#the screen burned to touch by page two

[star-sim]

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

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

Jake Sim was many things.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

However, there was always one exception.

You.

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

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

me: yeah i can do it rn if you want

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

pretty girl: oh

pretty girl: are you sure?

Of course he was.

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

me: yeah i'll come over right now

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

Not that either of you minded.

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

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

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

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

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

Not a problem!

Because you had your boyfriend, Jake!

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

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

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

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

There it was, his favorite thing about you.

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

Okay, that sounded weird.

But it was the truth.

Your relationship could be summed up in a few words—

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

How could he not resist teasing you?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"How do I look?" you asked. 

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

"Beautiful." 

As always.

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

Except that got delayed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The corner of his lips begin to lift.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You mumbled a small, "Hi."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Ugh, Jaaaaakee!"

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

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

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

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

"No."

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

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

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

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

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

"You're just too addicting."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Except, one comment caught his eye.

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

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

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

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

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

So that maybe someone would see it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"She's like an actual Disney Princess."

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

You were excited to see how Vidcon would treat you.

Jake was fighting.

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

Did you have to look so pretty today?

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

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

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

Jake immediately wiped his expression clean. "Nothing."

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

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

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

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

"I literally smiled earlier!"

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

"Shut up!"

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

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

But Jake missed you right now.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jake almost snapped his phone in half.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Absolutely.

"I love her so much," another read.

Me too, Jake thought.

"I want her so bad."

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

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

And his wish came true a few hours later.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Hey, baby," he grinned. 

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

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

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

Vidcon Day 1: Over.

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

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

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

#HelloKittyMeetsBatman.

Interesting name, he thought as he clicked on it.

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

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

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

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

"Craziest crossover of 2024."

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

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

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

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

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

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

Family.

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

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

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

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

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

His chest was already throbbing but Jake played it cool.

He chuckled. "What for?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You were going to be the death of him.

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

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

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

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

As you did, you eyed him up and down.

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

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

"Ay, are you checkin' me out?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Shit, [Name], wait a sec—"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Was this how you felt when he teased you?

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

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

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

You little tease.

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

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

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

That should be him!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Its headline?

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

The worst part was the cover page.

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

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

Objectively, this was bound to happen.

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

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

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

Had he always been like this?

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

Why did he throw it all away? 

He agreed to keep things private. 

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

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

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

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

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

And they were surprisingly... supportive?

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

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

"I'm very pleasantly surprised."

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

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

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

"He doesn't deserve her."

And the nail in the coffin:

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

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

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

Were you ashamed of him? 

Of course you would be.

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

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

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

No, no, no!

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

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

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

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

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

Why did you keep your relationship with Jake secret? 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You had a few choices.

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

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

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

But you wanted to get out of there.

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

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

You were getting irritated.

You stopped in your tracks, turning over your shoulder.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That made his mind wander.

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

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

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

"What for?"

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

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

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

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

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

Jake stared at you.

Jakey.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Now, onto the video!”

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

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

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

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

The two of you shared a grin.

“Of course, girlfriend.”

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

[fvsm4x]

#NO NUT NOVEMBER [Gojo Satoru]

SUMMARY NNN the stupid challenge where couples spend the entire month of November without having intimate relations. Gojo agreed to participate, overconfident that it wouldn’t be difficult for him but rather for his wife, but now, after the first two weeks, he already felt like he was going to go crazy, while his wife seemed perfectly fine.

— C.W husband! Gojo Satoru x female reader , 18+ only , nsfw , bathroom sex , unprotected , dirty talk , creampie , pet names (sweetheart, good girl, baby/babe) gojo is down bad , mention of masturbation , fingering , oral sex , multiple orgasm , squirting , not proofread!

— Word count: 3.2k

Masterlist

Satoru sat on the edge of the bed, his mind consumed with a mix of frustration and desire. He couldn't tear his eyes away from the calendar hanging on the wall, its innocent pages mocking him with their untouchable dates. It had been a mere two weeks since he had agreed to embark on the infamous No Nut November challenge, and already he was beginning to question his sanity.

The challenge, a test of willpower and self-control, required couples to abstain from any form of intimate relations for the entire month of November. At first, Satoru had seen it as a playful way to challenge his wife's resolve, a chance to see just how strong her willpower truly was. But now, as he sat there on the edge of their shared bed, he realized that it was his own sanity that was being pushed to the brink.

"Honey," He called out to his wife as he approached her from behind.

Satoru couldn't tear his gaze away from her as she sat engrossed in her phone, completely unaware of the intense hunger in his eyes. The tight shorts she was wearing seemed almost too daring, the fabric struggling to contain the alluring curves of her ass, which seemed to spill out temptingly. Her see-through t-shirt, while playful and innocent in design, allowed a teasing glimpse of her side breast, igniting his desires even further. It was hard for him to look away; he was captivated.

"Have you eaten yet?" he asked. He knew that the answer was likely no, but his question had an ulterior motive. He wanted to delve deeper into the desire that had been simmering within him.

Satoru's finger twitched, fighting an internal battle against the irresistible urge to reach out and touch her exposed thighs. But in the end, his resolve wavered, and his hand began to slide up and down her thigh,

„Not really, I‘ll eat after I take a shower.“ she answered him.

He couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt for having such thoughts about his wife, especially when he had promised himself that this month, he would be in control. He had convinced himself that it would be her begging for his attention, yearning for his touch. Yet, reality has proven quite the opposite. The desires were burning within him, and it was Satoru who was struggling to resist the magnetic pull of her sensuality.

"Satoru~ look at this video," she spoke, bringing her phone inches from his face

With a soft groan, he tried to resist the urge to reach out and take the phone from her. He knew better than to give in to these temptations, but it was hard when she was being so damn provocative.

"Look how cute that cat is!" she continued

Satoru forced himself to focus on the screen, managing a half-smile as he watched the adorable kitten on the screen. „Yeah, that's a cute kitten alright.“

Her smile quickly turned into a frown,“Are you okay? You‘re usually always excited when you see cats.“

He took the phone from her, With a forced smile, he reassured her, "Hmm? Oh, yes, I'm fine. Just a bit...anxious, I guess.." He chuckled nervously, hoping she wouldn't notice the lie in his voice.

As Satoru focused on the screen, his other hand found itself inching closer to her ass, his fingers grazing the fabric that covered her. His eyes remained locked on the kitten, but his mind was elsewhere, filled with thoughts of how her body would feel under his touch.

Realization hit him like a lightning bolt, and he quickly withdrew his hand, snapping back to the present challenge that had tormented them for two long weeks. He couldn't risk caving in now.

She retrieved her phone from his grasp and set it down on the nightstand. Pushing herself up from the bed, she glanced back at Satoru,

"You're acting strange, Satoru," she said,

Satoru, his pulse still racing from their earlier near transgression, struggled to maintain his composure. He offered her a sheepish smile, hoping to ease her suspicions. "Just had a momentary lapse of concentration, [Y/n]. Nothing to worry about."

She watched him for a moment longer, clearly unconvinced, before eventually turning and making her way to the bathroom, leaving Satoru alone in the room

As soon as she disappeared into the bathroom, leaving Satoru alone in the room, his heart began to race even faster. The lingering scent of her presence seemed to envelop him, and he found himself unable to resist the allure of his desires.

He was left with a yearning he couldn't quell, and his arousal had grown undeniable, making his body ache with desire. His hardness was strained against the fabric of his sweatpants, aching for release.

His mind was consumed by vivid, lustful thoughts of what he yearned to do to her. The challenge, which had once been a playful test of willpower, now felt like an unbearable torment, an obstacle standing between him and the woman he desired more than anything.

Satoru stood up and walked towards the bathroom. His eyes were filled with lust as he peered into the steamy room where she was preparing for her shower.

[Y/n] had turned on the water, and the sound of it filling the bathtub was a sensual backdrop to her movements. As she removed her shorts and shirt, leaving her naked and vulnerable, the sight of her body sent shivers down Satoru's spine. He hesitated for a moment, trying to regain control.

His fingers twitched, and his pulse quickened as he watched her silhouette through the frosted glass. He knew he was teetering on the edge, and the challenge seemed like a distant memory in the face of this intoxicating temptation.

With a deep breath, Satoru stepped into the steamy room and closed the door behind him. He moved toward her, his heart pounding in his chest as he closed the gap between them. [Y/n] was just about to step into the tub, the water cascading around her in a sensual veil.

He reached for her, his touch electric, as he pulled her close, their lips meeting in a passionate, desperate kiss.

[Y/n]'s eyes widened “W-wait..what are you doing?!”she shouted, breaking away from the kiss

"[Y/n], I'm sorry," he breathed, his voice laced with a mixture of desire and apology. His hands, still trembling from their forbidden encounter, cradled her face. "I can't control myself. The challenge... it's too much.“ His fingers trailed down her neck, tracing the outline of her collarbone

"You're so beautiful... I want you so badly." he murmured, his voice heavy with longing. Satoru's lips found her earlobe, and he nipped at it, sending shivers down her spine. His kisses trailed down her shoulder and across her collarbone, igniting a trail of longing in their wake.

His other hand moved, cupping her breast, his touch tantalizing as he teased, rolling her nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

„A-ah- satoru..“ she moaned softly.

"Look at how you react to my touch," he growled, his voice thick with desire as he continued to tease her nipple. "You're driving me crazy..sweetheart" Kissing his way back up, he left a trail of hickies, marking her skin.

Their lips met in a fiery kiss. His tongue delved into her mouth, seeking out hers in a heated dance, laying claim to her with every fervent movement.

His other hand ventured down to her thigh, his touch electrifying as he slowly and sensually slid upwards, drawing closer to the core of her desire.

“Satoru..” she muttered as she broke from the kiss, her cheeks flushed,

“I need you..” he breathed against her lips, his hand finally reaching her core, as he slipped his finger into her folds, thrusting a single finger into her, groaning at the incredible tightness and wetness surrounding his finger,”You are already so wet..so fucking perfect.”

"Please," she moaned, the desperation in her voice palpable as her husband's thumb massaged her sensitive bundle of nerves while he continued to thrust into her. A second finger joined the first, sliding in and out of her drenched center, driving her wild. His other hand continued its sensual dance, gently rolling her nipple between his fingers.

"Tell me you want it," he muttered. His mouth opened, and he took her other breast into his warm mouth, causing her to gasp with pleasure.

"I w-want it," she moaned, her body quivering with arousal.

Satoru broke away from her breast, his fingers moving faster inside her, and his thumb continued to tease her sensitive nub. He leaned up, capturing her lower lip between his teeth and tugging it gently. "Say what you want,"

"I want... you, Satoru," she whispered, her words laced with yearning. Satoru lifted her, placing her onto the counter, rubbing his hardness against her thigh,

He stared hungrily down at her cunt, he saw the slick practically gushing out of her little hole, clenching around nothing.

„Please,“ she begged, as Satoru didn't waste any more time, thrusting into her faster as he found her G-spot. The relentless massage of that sensitive area elicited an almost involuntary reaction from her, her head throwing back as her inner muscles tightened around his fingers. Her moans grew louder and more passionate, filling the room.

"Don't stop!" she pleaded, unable to contain her longing, wrapping her legs around his waist, drawing him even closer.

"I won't," he assured her, his mouth finding her neck, where he pressed his lips and left a trail of sensual kisses, before gently sucking at the sensitive skin,

As Satoru felt the tightening of his wife's inner muscles and the trembling of her thighs, he recognized the signs of her impending climax. His fingers continued their rhythm, thrusting deeper, and gradually, he added a third finger to intensify her pleasure. Small tears welled at the corners of her eyes, evidence of the overwhelming sensation that pulsed through her, proof of the ecstasy they were sharing.

She clung to him desperately, her arms encircling his neck as she buried her head into the crook of his neck. Her breath came in ragged, uneven gasps, her moans punctuating each shuddering exhale.

Satoru held her close, his fingers continuing their relentless dance inside her, the sensation of her trembling thighs and the taste of her tears only fueling his desire to take her higher.

As her arms held him tight, her head nestled against his neck, Satoru's mouth sought out the soft skin of her earlobe, his lips tracing patterns along her ear. His teeth grazed her earlobe gently, eliciting a shiver of pleasure that coursed through her.

His thumb, still expertly playing with her sensitive nub, matched the pace of his fingers, ensuring that each motion, each touch, was a symphony of pleasure designed to drive her to the edge.

Satoru sensed her climax building, her body growing tense and shuddering beneath his expert touch. As she neared the peak, he intensified his actions, his fingers moving in a blur inside her, his thumb relentlessly teasing her swollen clit.

“A-Ah..!” Her scream of release echoed through the room, her body arching into his touch as waves of pleasure washed over her. Her inner walls clenched tightly around his fingers as she came.

„Let it all out sweetheart..good girl..“ Satoru whispered, as he planted a tender kiss on her cheek. He continued to grind his hard dick against her thighs. The fervent friction had caused a small wet patch to form on his sweatpants,

Satoru withdrew his fingers from her slowly, his touch leaving her hot and wet. He brought his fingers to his mouth and proceeded to lick them clean.

The surprising question broke the moment's intimacy. "Have you been pleasuring yourself, sweetheart?" Satoru asked, his eyes searching her face for an answer.

Her response was a deepening blush on her cheeks. She avoided his gaze, stammering, "W-what?!"

Satoru was insistent, his fingers slipping to her neck as he drew her closer to him. Their chests pressed against each other, and he guided her head to face him directly, their eyes locking.

"My finger slipped in so easily," he explained, "I want to know, baby.."

Her blush deepened, and her eyes finally met his in an intense and vulnerable gaze. She hesitated, then confessed in a soft voice, "Y-yes... when you're not here."

“You’re so lewd..so cute..” he whispered, his voice heavy with desire, before pressing his lips against hers. Their mouths met in a fiery kiss, and his tongue slipped inside,

The kiss was hot and deep, with Satoru's tongue exploring her mouth eagerly. His other hand caressed her thigh, as he made his way to her clit, where he began tracing slow, teasing circles around her now sensitive folds.

Satoru's mouth, broke away from the kiss and ventured lower, moving down her body. He kissed along her inner thighs and lower abdomen before his lips found her sensitive clit. With a soft, reverent kiss, he tasted her wetness, his tongue tracing teasing patterns around the pulsating nub.

He continued to pleasure her with his mouth, his fingers digging into her thighs to keep her firmly in place.

"S'toru... oh god..!“ She moaned, her fingers tangling in his hair, urging him on.

Satoru's mouth worked, his lips and tongue lavishing attention on her sensitive clit,"You like that, don't you?" he whispered against her, his voice husky,"You're so damn wet for me, baby."

"Yes, toru, don't stop!"

His lips created a tight seal around her sensitive clit, forming a suction that made her tremble.

His tongue danced over her swollen nub, tracing circles and teasing patterns that sent waves of pleasure coursing through her body. He applied just the right amount of pressure, each flicker of his tongue sending shivers down her spine.

Her moans grew louder and more desperate, and she could feel the pressure building inside her.

With a final flick of his tongue and a deep, pleasurable suck on her clit, she couldn't hold back any longer. Her body tensed, her back arched, and her fingers tightened in his hair as she let out a loud cry of ecstasy. Her climax washed over her and her inner walls clenched tightly around nothing but the air as her body convulsed with pleasure.

Satoru continued to pleasure her even as she rode the waves of her orgasm, not letting up until she had ridden out every last tremor of pleasure, leaving her breathless.

Satoru reluctantly pulled his mouth away from her clit and moved back up her body, capturing her lips in a deep, hungry kiss. His hand, still wet with her arousal, slowly made its way to his sweatpants. He could feel his dick throbbing with every heartbeat, and it was begging for release. His desire was reaching its limit, and he couldn't wait any longer.

With a deep groan, he pushed down his sweatpants, freeing his erection. It stood tall and proud against his abdomen, the head of his cock an angry shade of red and a bead of pre-cum glistening at the tip.

Satoru's eyes were locked on his wife, who was flushed with sweat trickling down her forehead. She took deep breaths, trying to regain her composure after the intense orgasm he had given her.

"I can't wait any longer, baby…please," Satoru pleaded,"Please..." He stroked his throbbing length, brushing the head of his cock against her slick folds, aching to be inside her.

She could barely find her voice, but she managed to whisper, "T-take me..‘toru"

Her words were like a trigger. Satoru, unable to contain himself any longer, positioned his throbbing erection at her entrance and slowly pushed forward, entering her with a groan.

The sensation of his hard length sliding into her wet, tight warmth sent shivers through both of them.

Her moans filled the room as she clung to Satoru's shoulders, her nails digging into his skin. "T-too much..." she whispered, her voice trembling, as Satoru continued to thrust into her,

Satoru's thrusts were relentless, driving deeper into her with each powerful motion. Their heated passion was undeniable, and he couldn't get enough of her.

His lips found her neck, trailing a path of fiery kisses along her sensitive flesh. He left a trail of soft, sensual nips and licks as he thrust into her. His mouth sought every inch of her skin, hungry for her taste. His tongue left a trail of wet warmth against her neck, her collarbone, and down to the swell of her breast.

Satoru's mouth enveloped her breast, his lips creating a soft seal around her sensitive nipple. His tongue moved in slow, sensuous circles, teasing and tantalizing her. He varied the pressure, alternating between gentle suckling and more insistent pulls. His warm, wet mouth and his tongue's delicate caresses sent waves of pleasure rippling through her.

As Satoru continued to move inside her, his other hand slid down to her sensitive clit. He began to rub it, increasing the friction. Her already tight walls clenched around his throbbing length, making it challenging to move.

"God, you're so tight," he murmured, the sensations overwhelming as he continued to rub her sensitive nub while still thrusting passionately inside of her.

His movements inside her remained steady and determined, pushing her closer to the brink. With every thrust and every rub of her clit, they could both sense their climax building, promising an explosive release.

And then it happened. With a gasp, her climax overtook her. It started as a pulsating throb deep within her, a sensation that quickly built into an irresistible, overwhelming wave of pleasure. Her body tensed, and then, a gush of her warm arousal sprayed out in a burst of ecstasy.

The sensation was unlike anything she had experienced before, and it coated Satoru's cock and thighs,

Satoru continued his relentless thrusts, unable to hold back any longer.

„Baby…can I please cum inside of you?“ he asked, kissing your cheek softly,“please..“

„Y-yes..“She whimpered

With a few more powerful thrusts, he reached his own climax, groaning with pleasure as he released inside her.

Satoru held her tightly, his arms around her, and he slowly pulled out of her. As he did, he noticed their mixed fluids, gently flowing from her tight opening.

Satoru gently lifted her into his arms, cradling her with tenderness and care. Her body felt delicate and cherished in his strong embrace. He carried her to the bathtub and lowered her into the filled tub. Her body slid into the water, and she let out a contented sigh as she settled into the comforting embrace of the bath.

He stepped into the warm water from behind, his body pressing close to hers as he sat behind her with his arms wrapped around her. Their bodies fit snugly together. He placed tender kisses along her neck and shoulder, while hugging her.

© fvsm4x ; DO NOT REPOST

#gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #fanfiction #fanfic #satoru gojo #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #gojou satoru x you #gojou satoru x reader #jjk satoru #jjk x reader #gojo saturo #jjk #[♡’—𝐟𝐯𝐬𝐦𝟒𝐱‘𝐬 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬｡•́] #[♡’—𝐦𝐝𝐧𝐢｡•́]

[iliektehhaxs]

So close, and yet so far

Aka: Johnny finds a new obsession in you.

Pairing: John “Soap” MacTavish/Reader

Rating: 18+

This was heavily inspired by this lovely ghost/reader camgirl fic, so I decided to throw my hat in the ring. I wrote this in two hours with no editing 🥴

You’re a sweet thing, honeysuckle, ambrosia. The kind of sweet that lingers in your mouth and leaves an aftertaste. He guesses that’s why he returns to your stream every day—like honey, and just as sticky. 

Johnny’s bored one day, absentmindedly palming his boxers as he browses for a good video. Not one to be picky, but something about today has him particularly on edge, not quite able to find his release. His usuals just aren’t doing it.

Then he finds an ad for a cam site and sees you on the front page. 

You catch his eye immediately, wondering what a cute lass like you is doing on a site like this. The link takes him to your stream and his cock hardens in his boxers, not quite believing what his eyes see.

You’re a dream in a pair of soft pink panties, the kind of girl he’d never believe would be working as a cam girl unless he saw it for himself. Legs spread, bright pink vibrator buzzing between your legs, nearly in tears as your back arches off the bed. A hoard of men throwing donations at the screen, hoping for your attention.

He watches for a while more, impossibly hard as your legs shake around the toy, writhing in pleasure. In the corner of the screen he sees a message that makes him throb in his hand.

Valentines special! Top donator of the day gets to hear me moan their name! <3

Thank fucking Christ he had his card number memorized.

Within a day he became your top donator, the emptiness of his wallet meaning nothing when it meant he got to see you spread open on camera, rubbing at your pretty cunt while moaning his name, shaking your hips and displaying your wet pussy for him to see.

“Johnny, Johnny—oh god—“

You sound like heaven in his ears, memorizing each and every sound you make when your fingers find your clit and rub. His hand matches your pace, thumb pressing against his leaking slit and nearly drooling when you grind yourself against your hand with his name on your lips.

You’re beautiful like this, makes him wish he could actually touch you. His cock twitches at the thought, groaning when he reaches down and plays with his balls in tandem.

A day to remember, he swears he’s never come that hard before. His head falls back, not giving a damn if his neighbors hear how loud he moans your name when his cum splashes on his stomach. It drips from his fingers, the slick of it echoing in the room as he vigorously strokes himself through his orgasm. His arm burns with exhaustion, the head of his cock blooming red, so sensitive it becomes damn near painful and yet he doesn’t stop, not until he sees your pretty cunt gush over your fingers. 

You make a mess of yourself, and so does Johnny. The cycle repeats the next day, when he returns for another session. This becomes a regular habit. 

You’re a constant in his life, the moment you go live he’s always the first to join. His pretty bird, his girl. There’s a possessiveness that seeps into every message he sends, lighting up when you read each one and get flustered at the sight. He can tell you’ve never been treated how you aught to be, can see it in the way your legs squeeze together with every donation. 

So he sends you a private message after a month, anxious for your response.

How much for a private session?

And when you give him a price, he’s over the fucking moon. The amount didn’t matter to him, just as long as he got to see you.

Truly a shame he thinks, his little bird going so long without a real man to take care of you. But it’s okay, because now he can lavish you with the attention you’ve needed for so long.

You seem so shy in private, so demure. He knows better of course, has an entire folder on his laptop of you being anything but a fucking angel, but it still shocks him how innocent you seem.

Hands adjusting your outfit, every detail fiddled with until it’s perfect, until you’re satisfied with how your lace fits on your body. A strap here, a crease there. He admires how well you get dolled up for him.

A message flashes on the screen, fifty dollars lighting up. Your eyes light up at the notification, looking over at the bold letters with a smile.

You look so hot today

Your laughter sounds as sweet as you look. “Thank you! I just bought this set.”

You press your tits closer, presenting them to the camera. “Bought it for you, actually. Do you think it looks nice?”

A siren call, he can’t help but be drawn to the view. Johnny licks his lips at the sight, the ambient light casting a soft glow on your exposed cleavage. It makes him want a closer look.

His fingers move quick as anything, not even looking at the screen, completely focused on your body.

$150: you look more than nice lass. let’s see some more.

Familiarity lights up on your features, groaning at the sight of that subtle little grin spreading across your face.

“Of course Johnny,” you whisper, the sound of his name like a melody between your lips. You adjust your camera closer, grabbing at your breasts. “Is this what you wanted?”

No, what he wants is to replace your hands with his own. What he wants is to bite at the supple flesh with his teeth and rip off the flimsy fabric that hides you away from him. 

His hand strokes against the bulge that grows in his boxers as he sends another donation.

$150: you don’t want to know what I want lass.

He loves the look in your eyes, how your pupils dilate when they read it over once, twice. Your lips caught between your teeth, you pull at your nipple through the fabric as you sigh in relief.

“Always a smooth talker…” you whisper.

He watches you from lidded eyes—makes him wonder how you got to this profession, knowing that some dirty talk is enough to have you squirming on camera.

Imagine if he was actually in the room with you, the things he’d say. The things he’d do.

The thought leaves him breathless. One day he’ll have you all to himself, but for now, he’ll settle for a screen.

#robo writes #call of duty #call of duty smut #john mactavish #john mactavish x reader #john mactavish smut #John soap mactavish #john soap mactavish x reader #johnny soap mactavish #John soap mactavish smut #soap x reader #soap smut #personally he’s not obsessed enough for my taste but IM LAZY XOXO #Johnny soap mactavish x reader #Johnny soap mactavish smut

[red-dead-sakharine]

Tickles - Part 3

Raphael x Tav, RaphaelPOV, soft!raphael, gn!tav, fluff, hurt/comfort, body worship Haarlep and Korrilla have some screen time mood music

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 & 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8

He didn't know how long he sat there, staring in the direction Tav had left in. Eventually he heard familiar steps next to him. Bare feet, with an audible sensual bounce to their pace.

"Don't." he warned.

"My, my, the sheets are so clean, did you even do anything with them?" he heard Haarlep's voice drone close to his right ear. He pushed the incubus away without even looking at them. Haarlep snickered. "Oh, it did not go the way you wanted, did it? Did Tav not let you have your way?" they teased. Raphael wrinkled his nose in annoyance - the incubus had no idea what they were talking about. Of course they'd think only of one thing that could happen in a bed. Admittedly, his mind would've went similar places before today. But what Tav had done was.... different. He could still remember their touch. Their gentle strokes. He ran a hand over his ribs, trying to capture the feeling. But it wasn't the same. He longed for more. He felt abandoned without their touch. Alone in hell. He never knew he needed this kind of... affection, but now he craved it like nothing else.

A hand snaked over his thighs, towards his still exposed crotch. He caught it and lifted it. "No." he told Haarlep, finally looking at the incubus next to him. His glare was murderous. He was not in the mood - ironically perhaps. He could have this anytime. That's what Haarlep was for. But he couldn't get what Tav had given him. He worried that he scared the mortal off for good. The thought of never experiencing their touch again filled him with dread.

Haarlep looked both surprised and confused, removing their hand and sitting back up from their prowling position. "What did happen in here? You're acting very strange."

Raphael scoffed and got up, pulling his pants back on as he did.

He wandered down to the pool, eyes set on a book near its edge. He picked it up and flipped the pages.

He knew this book, of course. Sometimes, when he got bored, he would flip to a random page and tell Haarlep to do whatever it said to mix things up. They had never bothered with the later chapters though. The 'post-encounter care' ones. He browsed through them, but didn't really find what he was looking for. It was all written in a way that strongly assumed there had been lots of action beforehand. Nothing really sounded like what his little mouse had done to him. He dropped the book with a loud thomp on a nearby table.

Raphael could feel Haarlep's curious eyes on him, before their voice intruded on his thoughts again, "Were you not interesting enough for your little mouse?" they taunted, "Did you just lie there and let them do all the work?" They laughed. Raphael shot them a murderous glare and the laughter seized, though a taunting smile remained. He frowned. He did just lie there, didn't he. But... that's what Tav wanted, right? They seemed happy to do what they did. Right? Should he have done something? Should he have... participated in some form? He didn't know. He didn't know what he could've possibly done with his face buried in the bed sheets and his mouse on top of him, caressing him. Doing all these wonderful things to him. What could he have possibly done in that moment? But Haarlep was right - Tav had done all the work. Was that right? Was that wrong? He didn't know.

He didn't know!

He roared in frustration and threw the nearest chair into the pool.

Haarlep took note and made themself scarce before they'd end up as an outlet for Raphael's violent frustration. Not the time to tease the master, evidently.

He kept thrashing in frustration. A wardrobe was incinerated, a table smashed in two. Another chair flew off the balcony. He tore through the bed; shreds of velvet flying through the room. A cushion was set on fire - burning feathers blew everywhere. He was frustrated with himself, angry at Tav for making him feel these feelings, angry at Haarlep for never preparing him for this kind of affection, angry at Hope, angry at Korrilla, angry at everyone and everything. Angry at the world. Angry at his father for whom he felt nothing but disdain. Angry at the hells. Angry at the heavens. Angry at this whole damn existence for making him the way he was.

Half a devil, neither here nor there. Better than his peers but not enough. Never enough. He had clawed himself far up the ladder, and yet - and yet - he could not escape his birth. His other half that had these disgusting mortal feelings and needs. That craved affection. Craved that softness Tav had shown him. He set the entire bed on fire, threw his bedside table into the flames for good measure. His angry screams echoed through the House of Hope, and everyone in earshot scurried away as best they could; knowing to stay out of his way for their own good.

Eventually he dropped to the floor amidst the destruction. Angry, frustrated, in pain, alone. Always alone. His mortal side wanted to cry. His devil one didn't allow it. So he screamed. And then he just sat there, doing nothing. Nothing.

The fires had burned out by the time Korrilla poked her head cautiously into the room. He still sat on the ground near the pool, surrounded by ashes. Like his heart. "Why were they even here?" he asked, not deigning the dwarf with a look. "They were looking for the little tiefling's contract." He narrowed his eyes, "Mol?" "Yes, that one." "Did they take it?" "No." He looked up at Korrilla, "No?" "No." she shrugged, "But they left something." He raised a brow at her. "The Archivist said they gave him this to give to you." she held up a small package, the unmistakable size and shape of a book, then dared to step closer to hand it to him.

He took the book and rotated it in his hands. It was wrapped in cheap brown paper. 'For protection, probably' he thought. His claws easily tore through the wrapping and he read the title on the cover, "A deep dive into the history of Cormyran poetry". His breath hitched and he gripped the book tighter. Why would they give him this? Not that he didn't understand the concept of a gift, no, he had just never received one. He sometimes called favors gifts when he handed them out, but that was not the same. And he had received offerings from clients and petitioners to sway him in their favor; but never a true gift. Given without purpose or hidden agenda. Just because.

"Should I... tell the Archivist to put it in the library?" Korrilla offered, trying to be helpful. "No." he pressed the book against his chest with one hand, while pushing himself to his feet with the other. Finally he had a look around, really seeing the destruction he had wrought. "Get the debtors to clean this place up." he ordered her and looked for his doublet. It had perished in the flames. No matter. He snapped his fingers an was well dressed once again. It was nice to have powers.

He headed for the exit. Visiting a few of his other clients would do him good; straighten his head. So that's what he did.

He kept the book on him the entire time.

Part 4

A day passed, and he felt like himself again. Suave and cunning and in control. He took a break, sitting outside one of Baldur's Gate's upper city taverns, drinking wine. Trying to go about his normal routine. He had just seen off a client here, who had signed a particularly satisfying contract, and he relished in his victory. Tav's book lay on the table in front of him. He hadn't even looked inside once, just carried it with him all day. He wasn't sure why.

Since he was taking a break anyway, he might as well have a casual read. Maybe the author was half decent. As he opened the first page, his eyes dropped to a hand-written note on the lower half:

From a tadpoled misadventurer, to an honest devil.

He stared at the words as if they were written in a language he did not understand. And maybe he didn't. Eventually he managed to tear himself away from the incomprehensible words and thumbed through the book. His brow furrowed in displeasure when he noticed a dog-ear on a page. Sacrilegious mistreatment of a book! He opened the page to get rid of the unsightly mark - and stopped. His eyes fell on the title on the earmarked page: "The cat and the mouse - dissection of an obscure lullaby" He frowned again and started reading the chapter, disagreeing with a lot of the interpretations the author had given. He scoffed, when he reached the end, and closed the book - leaving the earmark in place.

He stood up, finished the last gulp of his wine, and decided he would not so easily be defeated. He was Raphael, after all. Soon-to-be ruler of the nine hells! Whatever went wrong in the boudoir the other night, he would fix it. Tonight.

And so he went to prepare in his little retreat in the mortal world - the Devil's Den. He made sure his clothes were in order, and applied a fresh layer of perfume, combed his hair. When he was satisfied, he tucked the book away in a drawer of his desk - though before he left, he had one last look inside; read those befuddling words of a dedication again. Then he closed the book and the drawer and waited.

When night came and it was late enough for everyone to be asleep, Raphael sprung to action and teleported himself to the Elfsong Tavern. Right into the room, the tadpoled adventurers had rented. He heard a noise behind him and turned to see the dog, groggily looking at him, then alarmed. Before it could bark, Raphael used his magic to put it back to sleep. "Shhh," he whispered, and the dog went back to snoring soundly. Good.

He took a quick glance around the room to find his target. Everyone was asleep, well, almost everyone. The vampling looked up from his book, stared at Raphael for an appraising moment, smirked knowingly, pointed a finger towards one of the beds, then went back to reading.

Raphael looked where the spawn had pointed, and saw them. His little mouse, sound asleep. He prowled over to their bed and looked at them. Tav looked so peaceful and without worries. So calm. So soft. He noticed a book on the bedside table and read the title, "The Hells Unleashed". He knew the book - some semi-interesting read about the nine layers of Baator. Why would his mouse be reading this? He put the thought aside and focused back on his task. He had experienced what they had done to him the other night, it couldn't be that hard to copy those actions. Right? He looked them up and down, searching for a point of entry. Eventually he resorted to gently pulling their blanket off their torso and sliding a hand under their shirt. It couldn't possibly be that hard to emulate what his little mouse had done! He did his best, gently stroking their side, snaking his way upward.

Then everything happened at once. Tav's eyes popped open. There was a scream. They jumped back, hit their head on the bedpost. The dog woke up and started barking. Someone cast daylight. Everyone groaned, momentarily blinded. He froze. Tav moaned in pain. Something bit his leg. He growled and jumped up, kicking the owlbear cub aside. Astarion was laughing. The dog charged at him. Wyll plucked it off the ground mid-run, before it could jump on the fiend. Karlach rounded the corner, axe above her head and screaming bloody murder. He snapped and returned himself to the House of Hope.

This was the worst moment in all of history.

Raphael materialized in the entryway and just stood there, trying to make sense of what just happened. How in the hells did everything go sideways this badly? He blinked, confused, embarrassed, angry, frustrated, crestfallen. He was Raphael, future ruler of Baator! He had tied the threads of fate of countless mortals. Pulled the strings of many a plot, orchestrated such masterworks of mortal destinies... How could he fumble this badly in regards to his little mouse? What was wrong with him? Someone must have cursed him! Cursed him with some bad luck charm, or... or...

He remained there on the spot, mind reeling. Spinning his mental wheels. Not understanding. Not grasping what was going on, what made him so inept all of a sudden. Lost in thought, he did not know how much time passed as he stood there, thinking. Suddenly the portal to the entryway lit up. It finally pulled him out of his stupor. A moment later his little mouse appeared. Alone, and wearing their casual camp clothes.

He looked at them. They looked at him, giving him a smile. His mind was still swamped from what had happened, so it took him forever to say something. His mouse was faster.

"So that happened." they said, sounding casual, a hint of amusement in their voice. "You gave everyone quite the fright. Well, everyone except Astarion. It took him about five minutes to stop laughing." He kept staring at his mouse. How could he possibly start to explain that disaster? "What were you trying to do?" they sounded a little insecure, but apparently trusted him enough to come here alone and unarmed. 'Foolish', he thought. They were safe with him, of course, but not on the streets!

"I- " he tried to find the words, find his voice. He straightened up a little, got a grip, tried again, "I wanted to reciprocate, my dear. Was that not obvious?"

Tav laughed, "No. Not... not entirely." He frowned. They smiled. "You know, waking up to someone fondling you in your sleep is just a little bit creepy. You scared the living daylights out of me." Tav explained.

He frowned more, "That... wasn't my intention." he offered. It wasn't much. It was as if his mouse had an aura that prevented his brain from working, ever since they did those wonderful soft things to him. "I didn't mean to scare you. Not tonight, and... not the other night. I wanted you to stay. ...I didn't know how to convey it." he admitted.

Tav's demeanor changed a little, and they looked more at ease. "I was worried I had angered you." they explained. He shook his head, not comprehending, "But why?" They shrugged, a little lost, "You didn't say anything when I apologized for using Haarlep's body. And you were glaring and frowning at me. I took that as you not accepting the apology and being cross with me. And being on a devil's bad side is not where I wanted to be, so I figured it'd be better to leave, before you incinerate me." they admitted.

He shook his head and stepped towards them, "No, no, no, I wasn't cross with you! Well,... no. I wasn't. I was..." he paused. Should he admit it? He looked away, thinking. It took him a moment but he decided making himself vulnerable might be the only way to fix things. "I was frustrated with myself." He looked at Tav. Searched for judgement in their eyes, but there was none. They looked at him fondly, "Why?" "Because-" he took a deep breath. It wasn't easy to say this out loud. His inner monologue had been shut away tightly for a long time, but he felt it was necessary to share his thoughts with this one mortal, who has shown him so much affection. So much trust. He trusted them, too. "Because I enjoyed what you did to me. And I-- I didn't know what to do with it. And I," he paused, searching for words, "I hate that I enjoyed it so much. It is... soft. It's a weakness. This sort of thing has no place here in the hells." He stared at them, hoping they would understand. He could practically see the gears in their head turning, so he elaborated. "But I crave it nonetheless. I want ...more. I didn't want that moment to end. That's why I grabbed you when you tried to leave. I didn't mean to be harsh. I don't know how to..." his words failed him, so he just gestured at Tav, waving his arm up and down their form in a desperate hope they'd understand and fill in the blanks.

Tav needed a moment, but eventually they smiled at him and stepped closer. "Oh c'mon, you do know how to. You're the one who kept flirting with me, every time we met." He frowned, "That's different." "How so?" "It's talk. What you did was different. Nobody has ever..." he trailed off. It sounded ridiculous to admit it. He had lived for eons and never met anyone who'd treated him like this. Tav's expression changed to something almost sad, "Really?" He looked away and didn't answer. A pair of arms wrapped around his neck and he looked back at Tav. So close now. "First time for everything," they whispered in his ear, then kissed him on the cheek. He felt light as a feather all of a sudden, and wrapped his arms around his little mouse, pressing his face against the side of their head. Inhaling the smell of their hair. Why was this so wonderful?

"Do you want me to do it again?" a whisper in his ear. He took a breath; struggling internally if he should really surrender to this craving. He caved and nodded stiffly, his slight stubble scratching lightly against Tav's ear. His mouse chuckled warmly and pulled away from his embrace, only to take his hand, "Come!" they pulled him out of the entryway and towards the boudoir, grinning with pure delight. His heart got a little lighter with every step. They had seen him. Heard his thoughts and doubts, and didn't judge. Maybe having just one person to trust completely in this world, wasn't such a bad thing.

They came to a sudden stop. "What happened here?" Tav's voice was thick with concern. Ah. He looked around the boudoir. The ashes and fire damages had been cleaned up, but there was still a good chunk of furniture missing. The new bed was there - it was the most important piece, after all - and Haarlep stood over a collection of half-burnt books, looking them through and throwing whatever they deemed disposable over the balustrade of the nearby balcony. A chair was still floating in the pool.

He cleared his throat and used his best casual voice, "Like I said, I was frustrated." He could feel Tav look at him from the side. Haarlep looked up, their face lit up as they saw the mortal, "Ooohh, has the little mouse come for another round? Whatever did you do to him last time? I just need to know." "You never will," Raphael butt in, before Tav could say anything, "Now, out." Haarlep acquiesced and slithered out of the boudoir, winking at Tav in passing. The mortal looked a bit confused but eventually recovered and continued towards the bed, dragging Raphael along. "As long as this 'frustration' is never directed at me, we're good." they said, looking at him sternly. He returned the look, "Never." he assured them. They smiled, pulling him closer.

[mood music]

"Right then. Tell me," they leaned into him again and lowered their voice to a whisper, "where did you enjoy it most?" They pulled away a bit to look at him. He opened his mouth to respond, then closed it again and looked away, feeling his cheeks grow hot.

They ducked their head into his field of view, "Are you... embarrassed?" There was mischief in their voice. He glared at them. "The future ruler of the nine hells, embarrassed to say what he enjoys most." They chuckled, then leaned in again to whisper, "I'll find out eventually, so you might as well just tell me. It'll never leave this room." They looked at him again. His eyes flicked down, then back up to look at his mouse. He couldn't quite bring himself to say it; it was too embarrassing how much he melted under this mortal's touch. Tav searched his face for a while, until eventually a smirk crept on their features, "Ah!" they exclaimed, "I get it. The most embarrassing of places." and their hands glided down his sides, lifting up the lower part of his doublet, finding the brim of his pants. They looked at him as if to ask for permission. He just stared back, feeling his ears get hot. They smirked and slid their hands into the back of his pants. Warm fingers trailing over his butt, holding it lovingly.

He knew he was blushing violently, he could feel it. But he loved the touch of those soft hands on his rear. If he could shoot beams of adoration out of his eyes, he would do so right now. Tav's smile brightened. Maybe he was shooting adoration form his eyes. Maybe.

The hands wandered a bit, stroking his southern cheeks. Eventually they retreated back out of his pants, moving up to his doublet and starting to unbutton. This time, he had no patience and with a snap of his fingers his upper body was bare. The mouse chuckled. He left the pants on, but looked at Tav, and threw an inviting glance down. They smirked with delight and commanded, "Lay down." He complied. They crawled on top, lips meeting his. A moment of surprise, then he melted into it. He opened his mouth, greedily poking his tongue at the mouses lips to seek entry. They pulled back, kissed his forehead, "Slowly." they demanded. He exhaled in disappointment, but he complied. Another kiss, slow this time. Just kisses. Eventually a tongue at his lips, asking gently for entry. He acquiesced. Tav's tongue met his. He loved their taste. They explored his mouth, invited him to do the same. He did. Slowly. Slow was good. More time to savor everything. He began to understand. They gently sucked on it, and he moaned. He didn't care this time. Let the mouse hear how much he enjoyed what they did! He could feel them smile against his lips.

Eventually they broke the kiss, looked at him with such love and delight in their eyes, he wanted to drown in them. He grabbed their head - cautiously! He needed to be more careful. Not rough. Not like with Haarlep. Soft and gentle. Like handling a delicate flower. He ran his fingers through their hair, and they closed their eyes, clearly enjoying it. He felt proud. He made them feel good, this was his work! He let them go, and they moved on. Kissed his adam's apple. His breath hitched. A little lick followed. He clutched their shirt. A little suck. He clutched it tighter, gasping. He didn't know at this point, but it would leave a mark - something for him to admire in the mirror the next day. They moved on, kissing their way down his chest. Getting lost in the tuft of hair there. Running their face through it, dropping kisses along the way. He moaned. He didn't care to hold back. His hands rubbed Tav's sides clumsily. They didn't seem to mind his fumbling. Whenever they looked up at him, they smiled. He was elated.

They moved on downward. Kisses towards his bellybutton. Another lick. He shivered. Kisses down his happy trail. A finger pulling slightly on the hem of his pants, kissing the forbidden zone. He clutched the sheets. Hands ran up his arms, rubbing gentle circles over his muscles. A kiss on his biceps. He looked at his mouse - hoping his gaze conveyed what he felt. They looked up at him, smiling. Always smiling. Eyes shining. He knew no sight more wonderful.

They climbed back up, kissed his temple. Gently nudging his head sideways, "Turn around." He complied, his heart pounding with delighted anticipation. A tug on his pants, he lifted his body so they could come off. Kisses on his back - he fell back onto the bed. Kisses down his spine, hands on his flanks. He gripped the sheets again, knowing what would come. Looking forward to it. Hands on his butt, kisses just above, then trailing down each cheek. He moaned. The kisses morphed into licks. He shivered, burying his head in the bedding again. "What you do to me!" he mumbled into the cloth and heard a slight chuckle in response: "You have the most beautiful butt in Baator." He wanted to respond but another lick on his right butt cheek turned his brain off. Fingers gently ghosting over his thighs, outside, inside. His breath hitched. A kiss at the inside of his knee. Hands running down his lower leg, then up the other. A kiss on the other knee. Hands ghosting back up his thighs, over his hips. Another kiss, another lick on his butt. He whined into the bed. A gentle suck. He didn't know where up and down was anymore.

Hands and lips ghosting back up his body, kissing, licking their way towards his head. A kiss on each shoulder, a hand in his hair, a kiss on his neck, a nose gently nudging him to remove his face from the bedding before he suffocated. He complied. Another kiss on his temple. A kiss on his cheekbone. A kiss on his nose. He whined. It was bliss. He was being tormented with bliss! A head pressing into the sheets next to him to find his mouth. Gently making contact with his lips again. A body sinking down on top of his.

His hand found Tav's and he interlocked his fingers with theirs. The mouse's other hand still ran through his hair, soothingly stroking, caressing, combing through it. Their lips still together, kissing, gently touching. Eventually they rested their head next to his, lying on top of him, still a hand in his hair, the other still interlocked with his. He smiled at them, and they smiled back.

He could stay here forever.

'cause this was rapture.

👉 Part 5

#fanfiction #raphael x tav #tickles rds #bg3 #haarlep #soft!raphael #raphaelPOV #the gif would have fit better as cambion but the game did not like the change in body type at all #no comfort without hurt #raphael bg3 #bg3 raphael #baldur's gate 3 raphael #raphael baldur's gate 3 #raphael the cambion #rds #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate 3

[nayeonie99]

Nayeon x Sana / Cam Girl

Nayeon's POV

"Mmm". I heard from the speakers of my laptop. My hand was moving up and down my cock.

"You like watching me?". The cam girl gasped out while she was sliding two fingers in and out of her pussy.

Her fingers were glistening with her wetness.

"Fuck". I gasped out and started pumping faster. If you believe it or not, it was coincidence that I got onto her page.

I mean I'm a perv I won't deny that, but I'm not that much of a perv to watch some strangers fuck themselves on the internet in front of other strangers.

But this girl, which I've never even seen the face of, was just mesmerising to me.

Her voice especially.

She let out another moan and started to play with her nipples. I had to bite my lip while I was still pumping my hand up and down on my dick.

"I wish you could fuck me right now". She cried out and spanked her pussy.

I mean, everyone else watching right now felt probably exactly like I did in this moment. Totally turned on and desperate for her touch.

She gave you a feeling of being something special and that she is only doing this for you. Maybe that's why she was mesmerising me so much.

"Let's cum together". She rasped out and after a few seconds she reached her climax and so did I.

"Fuck, that was good. I hope you enjoyed it as much a I did. See you next time". She said and waved into the camera.

I was left staring at the screen on my laptop. My cum still sticking onto my stomach. I grabbed some tissues from my nightstand and cleaned everything up.

I was getting ready for bed when I heard my phone ringing. I picked it up and saw my best friend calling me.

"What do you want?". I asked and put her on speaker while I was putting moisturiser on my face.

"Hello to you to". She responded and I could literally hear her eyes rolling.

"Don't roll your eyes at me". I said.

"How did yo- Nevermind, I just called to ask if you wanna hang out".

"Sana, it's almost midnight".

"Please?". She asked with her cute voice.

I let out a sigh.

"Fine, but you come over. I already got ready for bed".

"Okay I'll be at your place in like 15 minutes".

"Alright". I said and hang up.

While I was laying on my bed waiting for her, I heard a knock on my door.

"Finally". I said when I opened the door and saw her smiling at me already.

"Aww did you miss me so much?". She asked sarcastically. I playfully glared at her and she smiled even more.

"So why did you wanted to meet?".

"What? I can't see my best friend ?".

"Yes you can. I just wondered because it's so late already".

"I just wanted to hang out a bit. Watch some movies, eat some snacks you know?". She said and sat down on my king sized bed.

"And I love your bed". She sighed and laid down on her back, lifting her arms up her head which made her shirt slide up a bit. I automatically stared at her exposed skin.

"Y-Yeah okay umm well, you can choose a movie already. I'll make us some snacks".

"Yeah okay". She said and I walked into my kitchen to put some snacks in the bowl.

When I came back into my room she was just staring at the screen of my laptop.

"So have you found something?". I asked and placed the bowl down on my nightstand.

I turned the laptop to the side so I can see, but when I saw what she was looking at I felt my whole face starting to burn with embarrassment.

"Omg this is so embarrassing, holy shit". I rambled and quickly closed the page where I was watching the cam girls live earlier.

"You watch cam girls?". She smirked and stared at me.

"I'm definitely not going to talk with you about that". I mumbled.

"Why not? It's nothing forbidden. It's not like you can get arrested for this". She said and giggled. I just glared at her and she stared at me.

"So...tell me. What do you like about cam girls ?".

"I don't watch cam girls. Only this one". I said and blushed even more.

"Why only this girl? Is there something you like about her? Have you watched other girls as well?".

"Why are you so interested in this?".

"Just tell me". She said impatiently.

"Jeez okay. I just like this one. I tried watching other girls as well, to see if I was just being weird or whatever. But this girl has something that mesmerises me. You know what's funny?". I asked and she just kept staring at me.

"I never saw her face but I feel like she is such a beautiful woman. I feel close to her, I don't know, it probably sounds weird to you...". I said and fiddled with my fingers.

"Why do you like her so much?". She asked and her voice turned a little raspier.

"I like the way she talks to me, the way she makes you feel like it's only the both of you right now and not like thousands of other people watching. Or the way she touches herself, so soft and gentle like she would break any second. But what I like the most about her is her voice". I said.

"Her voice?". She asked and I nodded my head.

"How come?".

"I don't know. I just love how her breath hitches when she hits this specific spot when she touches herself. Or when she tries to say something but it gets caught in her throat because she is too turned on to build full sentences".

"Sounds like you really like her". She said and I saw how she pressed her thighs together.

"Mhm". I hummed and she bit her lip.

"Have you ever thought about how she would look like?". She asked.

"No not really. But I just know that's she's beautiful. She has to be".

"Have you fucked yourself earlier watching her?".

"W-Why should I tell you?". I stuttered out and she smirked.

"So you did?". I blushed once again.

"What if you would meet the girl in person? What would you do?".

"Let's be honest here. I don't even know what she looks like, neither her name or where she's from. So I will definitely not meet her".

"But what if. What if you know her? What would you do?".

"I don't know. I've never thought about it".

"Would you fuck her?". She asked.

"I mean...I jerk off by imagining fucking her, sooo...yeah probably".

"It's actually really hot, knowing you jerk off by watching me". She said and slid her hand up my leg.

"Hahahaha yeah-Wait what?!". I asked shocked and stared at her with wide eyes.

"The cam girl. That's me actually". She said and smirked at me.

"Stop Sana, that's not funny". I said and pushed her hand off my leg. She sighed and stood up from the bed. I just stared at her with pink cheeks. She started taking her shirt off and my eyes widened.

"W-What are you doing? Are you crazy?". I said and stood up. She came closer and slid her hands under my shirt which made me gasp.

"Since you don't believe me by words, maybe you believe me when I show you". She pushed me down on my bed so I'm sitting on it.

"Now be quiet and watch me". She whispered in my ear and it made my whole body shiver. The next thing she took off was her black bra. Her boobs were perfect. I felt my cock starting to get hard, I couldn't take my eyes off her.

"You know...". She began and started unbuttoning her pants.

"The way you talked about me made me so wet". She said and I had to bite my lip.

She kicked her pants somewhere in my room and the only thing she was wearing now was her black thong.

"Do you recognise me now? My body?". She asked and climbed onto my lap. I couldn't find my voice, it's like the words were stuck in my throat.

"What? Cat got your tongue?". She asked with a smirk on her lips. I just nodded my head, which made her grin.

"You know you can touch me, right?". She asked and slid her hands behind my neck.

"You can actually do anything you want with me tonight. Everything you pictured while you were fucking yourself every time you watched me". She said.

"Anything?". I asked.

"Well look at that. She can speak". She said and smirked again.

"Shut up". I said and had to grin.

"Make me". She whispered in my ear and kissed the space under my earlobe. I turned us around and pushed her against my pillows, so her head is rested on them. I wanted to quickly take off my shirt but she stopped me.

"No, I want to watch you this time. Take your clothes off but slowly". She said.

I did what she told me and started lifting up my shirt. Since I didn't thought someone would still visit me this late I wasn't wearing a bra. So when I took my shirt completely off she was met with my bare chest.

I looked at her and the look she gave me made me even harder. I slid my fingers into the waistband of my sweatpants and boxers so I could pull them off in one tug.

My cock hit my stomach and I threw my clothes on the ground. I was completely naked now.

"Come here". She rasped out and her voice was just so sexy. I crawled towards her and hovered right over her face. She pulled me down so our chests were completely pressed together. My cock was sliding over her clothed pussy.

She grabbed my chin between her fingers so I was looking straight into her eyes.

"Kiss me". She breathed out and I leaned down to press our lips together. Her lips were so soft and fitted perfectly with mine. I gasped into the kiss when her hand wrapped around my cock. She sucked my tongue into her mouth and started pumping her hand up and down. I bit her bottom lip with my teeth and let it go.

I kissed down her jawline and neck, then took one nipple in my mouth and she let out a quiet gasp. I took her hand off my cock and pushed both of her wrists above her head.

"Don't move your hands". I said and she bit her lip while nodding her head.

"Good girl". I said and pecked her lips once more. I kneeled in front of her and slid my fingers under the waistband of her thong, to pull it down her long legs. She instantly spread her legs for me, which made me bite my lip as well. I leaned down on my chest and parted her legs even more with my hands.

"Fuck, you're so wet already". I groaned and parted her slick lips with my thumbs.

"Shit". She hummed out and bucked her hips up a little bit.

"Please". She begged.

"Please what?". I asked her teasingly and started kissing the insides of her thighs.

"Just do something". She said.

"I am". I said with a smirk on my lips.

"Eat me out". She said while staring directly into my eyes. With that said I dived right in.

"Oh my god". She gasped and clenched her hands into my hair. I told her to not move her hands, but honestly I didn't care anymore.

I just wanted her.

I sucked her clit in my mouth and slid my hands up her chest to grab both of her boobs.

"Fuck, this feels so good, please don't stop". She moaned out and started fucking herself against my tongue.

I started humming which made her feel even better and after a few seconds she came for the first time.

"Holy shit". She gasped out, her chest lifting up and down heavily. I kissed from her stomach up to her lips, to give her a kiss.

"My turn". She breathed out against my lips and pushed me down so I'm laying down. She grabbed my chin into her hand, kissing me again.

"Mmm, you taste like me". She said and kissed me again. My arms wrapped around her waist to keep her close.

"I can't wait to feel your cock inside of me. I had a feeling that you were big, but to be honest, I've never had a cock this big".

I had to smirk and she smirked back at me.

"I've never had someone who tasted this good". I whispered in her ear and felt her shiver.

"You make me so wet". She groaned out.

"Let me fuck you baby". I said and she bit her lip.

"Can you call me that again?". She asked and pushed me down again.

"Baby?". I asked and she nodded her head with a slight blush on her cheeks. I pulled her down for another kiss.

"Ride me baby". I breathed out against her lips and she nodded.

She slid the tip of my cock through her pussy, coating it with her wetness and then sank completely down on it.

"Mmm fuck, no one ever took me so well". I moaned out and grabbed her hips into my hands. She placed her hands on my stomach and started moving on top of me.

"Omg babe". She moaned out and threw her head back. I slid my hand up her neck to choke her. With my other hand I slid down between her legs to play with her clit.

"Fuck yes". She choked out and I started meeting her thrust.

"God damn". I moaned out because she got tighter with every thrust. I wrapped my arms around her waist and she pressed her head in the crook of my neck, moaning right into my ear.

"Does it feel good baby?". I asked and spanked her ass. She gasped out and nodded her head.

"Use your words. Let me hear you baby".

"Yes it feels more than good". She moaned out and clenched her hand into my hair.

"Are you close?". I asked and spanked her again.

"Y-Yes". She shakily moaned out.

"Cum for me baby. Cum all over my cock". I said and grabbed her ass into my hands, pounding into her so our skin was slapping together.

"Fuck Nayeon". She moaned out and climaxed the second time this night.

"Cum inside of me please". She said and sat up staring at me.

"I want to feel your cum inside of me, filling me up". She moaned out and with that said I couldn't hold back any longer and came inside of her. I pulled out of her and saw my cum leaking out of her pussy.

"How about we take a shower?". I asked her and she looked at me with pink cheeks. I stood up from my bed and turned around to look at her.

"Are you coming?". I asked.

"I already did babe". She said and winked at me. This time I was the one blushing.

"I-I can't stand up right now". She mumbled.

"How come?". I asked and smirked.

"Yah, stop teasing me". She said and let out a cute whine.

"Come here". I said and she crawled to the edge of the bed. I picked her up and carried her into my bathroom. We showered together and washed each other. I gave her some clothes of mine.

"You look really good in my clothes". I said and wrapped my arms around her waist.

"Yeah?". She asked and wrapped her arms around my neck.

"Mhm". I hummed and pecked her lips.

"So do you want to watch a movie now? Or do you want to sleep? We didn't really got to watching a movie after all". She asked and smirked at me.

"A movie sounds good". I said and she pecked my lips again. She grabbed my hand and walked with me to my bed.

And for some weird reason my heart hasn't stopped pounding since my phone rang and her name was showing on my display.

#twice smut #twice nayeon #twice sana #twice #kpop #g!p

[cevans-is-classic]

Deserving

18+ only, please. Sexual content, language, unprotected sex

You all know this was going to happen. This man is the loml and I couldn't leave this idea alone.

My Masterlist and My Chris list

“You can stop looking at me.” The computer lit up his face, blue light reflecting in his eyes and the reading glasses he wore tipped on his nose. His right hand tapped the pen he held against a notepad. 

You leaned closer. 

Chris raised a brow but continued looking at the screen. 

You tilted your head and squint your eyes at him. 

His jaw clenched, the muscle twitching before relaxing, and his shoulders loosening. His left hand clicked the mouse, eyes moving across the page he was on. 

Your hand creeped across the table, touched the lid of the laptop and started pushing it closed. 

Chris sighed. “May I help you?”

“Will anything important disappear if I close this?” 

“Yes.” 

The laptop closed, your finger tapping one, two, three over the apple logo. 

Chris closed his eyes, breathed in through his nose, then let it out in a long stream until he lifted his head to look back at you. “Shouldn’t you be at work? Bathing someone? Aggravating anybody that’s not me?” 

“Nope. Although-” 

He rubbed a hand over his beard with a heavy sigh. “What?”

Your lips quirked. “I’m trying to figure something out.” 

Another heavy sigh, the glasses appeared. He let the sound out and leaned back in his chair. “Sweetheart, I’m gonna say this once again — you give me heartburn.” 

Laughter chokes you as you drop your head onto the table and try to breathe without snorting. Chris had looked painfully serious, a look that told you he knew you were on your bullshit and would not play this game with you. 

Too bad he let a smile quirk the edge of his lips. 

“Subjectively speaking-” Immediately Chris groaned, “Subjectively speaking. I know what they’re talking about. I see it every day, get to critique it every night and am even allowed to view the total package — now and then.” You waggled your eyebrows. 

Not impressed it seems. 

“Is this going somewhere?” 

You grinned, all teeth with a wiggle of your fingers towards him, “Sexiest Man Alive, Baby, how does it make you feel? That hundreds and thousands of people think you, Christopher Evans, are the ‘Sexiest Man Alive’?” 

One brow went up, his arms crossed over his chest, biceps bulging under the long sleeve he wore, and the chair made a creaking sound as his weight settled in it. 

A thrill slithered down your spine. The look in his eyes meant he was going to play this game with you. You’ve activated his own bullshit button, and it was about to be a good one — you hoped. 

One hand moved to point in your direction, “First, we both know you still write fanfiction about me. I knew that hundreds of thousands of people out there had particular thoughts about me. You make that clear at least twice a month.” 

You open your mouth to retort. 

“Neh-” He tilted his head, fingers making a zipper motion before he pointed at you again. You smiled. 

“Second, I thought we agreed you wouldn’t make any comments on this aside from,” He grinned wickedly at you, “when you screamed my name while I showed you why I got ‘Sexiest Man Alive’.” 

A tendril of adrenaline morphed into desire, burning hot in your gut. Chris was grinning now, blue eyes flashing when you lean back in your own chair and tap your chin. 

Okay, he had a point. When you got to his house, the day after they announced it, Chris barred you from saying anything about it. He said he wanted to let it settle in his mind first and he needed to get through the photoshoot before he felt comfortable enough to joke about it. 

That lasted about twenty minutes. You’d kissed him with the sauce spoon still in his hand and jumped onto the counter when he backed you into it.

Of course, you had to celebrate it. Show him he’s worthy of the title, let him bend you over his couch and cry out that no one else gets to have him. That everyone can agree he deserved it, but you’re the one who gets to show it. 

(Downfall of him caving — you lost twenty bucks to Scott . You’d been egotistical and said a week, Scott said 5 minutes.)

(You met in the middle.)

(Kind of.)

Taking a deep breath, keeping your eyes on Chris, you rose from your chair and walked around the table. He didn’t hesitate to push his chair back and open his arms to let you crawl into his lap. 

Your arms hooked around his neck, your thighs on either side of his with his hands around your waist, keeping you from tipping as you leaned into his hold.

“Maybe,” He blinked, “I need to be reminded why you deserve the title.” 

You squealed when Chris stood up, his hands going from your back to your thighs to keep you in place as he walked through the house.

He snickered when you tightened around him, looking at the ground in shock — not fear. Why would this scare you? What is he going to do, drop you? (Again) — Chris reached the bedroom in record time. Plopping you on the bed in ahuff, then climbing over you, tugging you down and up to press against him. 

“Deal.” 

You couldn’t take a deep enough breath to keep your head from spinning when he drew you in for a kiss, his mouth opening over yours and tongue tracing to the curve of your bottom lip, behind your teeth, licking away the moans that stumbled out of you. 

Oh yeah, okay, you should be on your bullshit more often. 

Both of you groped and grabbed at each other, hands shifting clothes until Chris’s shirt was gone and he’d unbuttoned yours and pulled it off your shoulders. 

He pulled away to help you toss it aside, teeth flashing in a grin when he saw your top underneath. “I hate this thing.” 

You huffed, “I know.”

He kissed your neck, teeth nipping at your jaw, the line of your throat, over your collarbone and down, down, down until he could slip his head underneath your ‘Baby Daddy’ shirt. He skimmed bites across your stomach, making you gasp and twist beneath him. 

“Take it off.” Chris sucked the spot over your hip, biting at it until you gasped and pulled the top over your head. 

“Aggressive.” 

Another flash of blue eyes, “You bet, Baby.” He went back to work, moving up over your ribs, licking the underside of your chest before taking a nipple into his mouth and tweaking the other one with his hand. 

“Shit.” Sparks set off under your skin, your knee knocked into his when you jumped. A moan tumbled out, your mouth dropping open with it. Fuck, he liked to nip and suck you, rolling the opposite bud between his fingers before switching back and forth until you were a squirming mess under him, gripping his hair holding him in place until it felt like you’d stopped breathing. 

Alright, okay, point one for Evans. 

“Hmm,” He pulled off, “I love it when you do that.” 

“What?” Chris moved his head when you nudged under his chin, breathing warm against his neck as you undo his pants, pulled his zipper down and pushed at his pants until you could slide them down his thigh with your feet. “Smother you?” 

He winked, “Exactly.” 

Your pants came off next, Chris’s erection poking out the top of his boxer briefs. He rolled his hips to grind himself against you, your underwear rubbing into your warmth. The friction had both of you groaning, moving together as you breathed into each other’s mouth. 

Chris slipped a hand into your underwear, fingers spreading you, using your slick to circle your clit starting a fire down your thighs. 

“Ah fuck,” You bit his lip, tugged it, making him jerk over you and slide two fingers inside, “Yes. Okay.” 

Back and forth, he slid his cock along your inner thigh, fingers moving in and out, thumb circling, your mouths moved together as your nails followed the curve of his back down to the waist of his briefs and slid under to hold on to his ass. 

“Do me a favor?” You gasp, your heart thundering. 

“Yeah?” He slipped a third finger in letting you ride them, plunging them in and out and in with each snap of your hips. 

“Take your damn underwear off.” 

“Gladly.”

You both scrambled to pull the rest of your clothing off, crashing together again, your hands shoving at Chris’s chest to push him down letting you crawl over him and sink his length into you. 

“Holy fuck-”

“God damn-”

Neither of you paused, your skin on fire and aching for him to put it out. Chris groaned, knocking his head back and forward, his eyes opening and closing as if he couldn’t decide if he wanted to watch you or feel you. 

This — right here — no one could label this with a title of any kind. The roll of your hips, the snap of his beneath you, the way his fingers held your thighs, your waist, your ass to keep you moving over him. How it felt to lean back to let him fuck up into you and listen to the noises he made when he slipped into the moment. 

Chris was the ‘Sexiest Man Alive’ for many reasons, but this was one that only you got to know.  

“Chris-” You jerked forward, his knees bending, thighs pushing you closer to him. “Please-” it was right there. The edge was in sight and if he could keep you in place as you rode him then- then- oh- 

He lifted.

“Dude-” 

Chris laughed, buried his face in your neck and licked at your skin, “I’m going to kill you - why in the world-” 

Strong hands manhandled you to your knees, flipping you over, then back, “Come here.” He growled pulling into him his right arm wrapping around your middle and the left guiding your hips until you were flush against his chest and seated on his cock. 

“Ah fuck.” Your head fell back onto his shoulder. Chris wastes no time in rubbing over your clit, catching the bundle of nerves again and again as he uses the leverage of holding your hip to rock you over his cock. 

“Sexiest Man Alive,” He grunts, “How does it feel to know you have the ‘Sexiest Man Alive’ wanting you to come on his cock?” Your thighs are burning, blood rushing in your ears, knees locking as pressure builds inside you. 

“Chris-”

“Come on, Baby, show me how deserving I am of the title.” 

“You do.” Your hand covers his, moving it faster over you letting him focus on meeting your hips with his, “You so fucking do-“ 

You snap, “Oh holy fucking shit yes-” Chris keeps going, continues to roll your hips over him but moves his hands away from your clit when you twitch Your vision is fuzzy, white noise drowning out whatever he’s saying behind you. The only thing you could focus on that wasn’t the static running through your veins was Chris’s hold on you.

Electricity crackled through you, sweat collecting between your bodies. Chris held on tighter, squeezing you, opening your legs more to gain leverage and deepen his thrusts. 

Your thighs tightened. “Shit-” You threw a hand up, gripping the hair on the back of his head to jerk his face to meet yours in a messy, teeth cracking kiss. You didn’t move, wouldn’t dare to shift or slide out of place as your knees go fuzzy and liquid heat collects in your groin until- “Fuck. Fuck, yes- Holy shit.” 

Chris was grinning, huffing out laughter as your body went pliant. 

“That’s,” Gasp, “Fucking right.” Another gasp followed by a drawn-out groan. 

“Unbend your legs.” The movement jostled you, but let you lean forward and grip his calves. He cursed, his thighs tightening, hands holding onto your hips, tilting you up and forward until he could bounce you on him. 

“If they could see the view I got,” One of his hands came down to knead at your ass, “They’d know what the sexiest thing alive is.”

You didn’t have time to plan a response before a choked groan broke from his chest and his hips stuttered in movement. 

One breath, two breaths, three then Chris grunted a laugh — moving to help you off his lap and let both of you splay across the bed. Chris’s feet pressed into the headboard and you’d twisted to rest your head on his thigh and dangle your feet over the edge. 

His come was cooling on the inside of your own thighs. His heart was beating rapidly where your hand had dropped on his chest. 

He tangled his fingers with yours. “Did I state my case well enough?”

“Motion approved or whatever.” You smack your hand against his chest, squeezing his fingers. 

Chris ran his other hand over your hair. “I had an email I needed to send.” 

“Tell them you’re indisposed.” 

“Indisposed.” He kissed your fingertips. “An important discussion needed to be had.”

You turned onto your side, taking your hand back and using it as leverage to roll onto your front and rest your chin on his stomach. “Many details needed to be reviewed, ideas hashed out — if you will.” 

Chris turned his head to look down at you. “I’ll just say something came up.” 

An arched brow and one pointed look at his crotch had him shoving at you with a laugh. Chris followed your movements as you rolled away, tangling your legs together, pulling you into his arms and resting both of you on the pillows. 

“It’s a silly award.” You kissed his nose, “But you deserved it.” 

Chris kissed your nose and closed his eyes."I deserve a nap." 

“Its ten am.” 

“You’re the one who wanted to prove a point. That kind of rigorous activity takes a lot out of a man.” 

Deserving your ass. He deserves to get his nipple pinched.

#Chris Evans #Chris Evans fanfiction #chris evans x you #chris evans x reader #sexiest man alive

[vrmxlho]

SEASON OF LOVE - FAKE DATING

pairing: isagi x gn! reader

day 1 ← masterlist → day 3

what the actual fuck you thought. in fact, you were so pissed you didn't just think this but you actually voiced it out. "what the actual fuck is this?" you whispered.

your friend had just texted you with a screenshot from a stupid gossip page that had been on your back for months now. it read the following: why is pro footballer isagi yoichi trying to hide his new model partner? they're hot!

the hot, bright screen seems to be burning your palms with how tightly you were gripping your phone. the short hiatus author 'sly scoop' had taken made you believe that you were finally free from the nasty, untrue rumours being spread. but, god, were wrong.

you had been out with your acquaintance isagi purely as an accident. the two of you had just happened to have dinner at the same restaurant and had walked out together. sure, it seemed like a date. but it really wasn't. you barely spoke. heck you didn't even have each other's personal numbers. perhaps you were mutuals on instagram but really he was just a friend of a friend.

that didn't matter now. this had to be sorted out. so you called. of course, he'd pick up once he saw the forwarded message of the clipping.

"hey i just saw..."

"yeah i saw it too." he sighed. it wasn't the first time he was caught up in a petty dating scandal and it surely wasn't your first either.

but it felt different this time.

like this could actually cause some bigger scandal in the near future. after all, he was a world-class football player, and anyone who got caught up in their lives was bound to be bombarded with death threats from crazy fanatics or approached by journalists at every turn. you weren't up for it.

you already found it hard keeping up with all the flashing lights and cameras. how were you supposed to keep up with this? you didn't dare check your dm requests; you were sure they had already been flooded.

"so, should i call my manager to release a statement or should we do it together?"

"see, the thing is. i need to ask you for a favour..."

"isagi this isn't the time." you shook your phone as you spoke almost dropping it on your face. he didn't really seem to comprehend the gravity of the situation. this was not the right time for dating and you had to clear it up immediately.

"please date me."

"huh–"

"please be my fake partner, just for a while. coach has been pestering us to get into romantic relationships, apparently it'll improve our football performance." he said it all so fast you almost didn't hear him. but you caught the few most important words 'fake partner'. and you were definitely against the whole idea.

"no absolutely not!?" you said that almost as a question, you were so confused, why did it have to be you of all people. isagi was a world class footballer who could ask anyone to date him (fake date, really). so why did it have to be you? you had barely spoken to each other. he was just a friend of a friend, nothing else.

"please, it can't be anyone else."

"and why's that?"

"i already told the press that the rumours are real."

it was dark outside. you could hear the thunder clapping and lightning streaked the sky. yet here you were on your weekly date. it had been about a month since he dropped the news and you would be lying if you said you didn't sort of enjoy the attention. the publicity was good for your modelling and the dates were fun. but there was this sort of distance between the two of you. it felt scripted, and it was. but you wanted something more. maybe not an romantic relationship, but something that felt more real.

you wouldn't have minded if your script included kisses and holding hands. it wasn't because you liked him. just because.

you'd never tell him, of course. it would be deathly awkward and you feared rejection too much. so you stuck with looking at him a bit longer than usual, laughing more, touching his hand, brushing his hand often.

simple things really. not because you liked him. no not at all. it was just for fun. so that people would buy your story.

events came and went. his hand would always find itself on your waist, usually stiff and uncertain but this time it was firm. like he had gotten used to you. the ice had thawed. a quick peck on his cheek started making his cheeks burn up. you didn't understand why. was he getting used to you?

it was the first time you'd stayed behind for the afterparty. both of you had agreed that keeping up the charade was too much of a hassle so you'd make up an excuse every time. but you were stuck. a close friend of his had apparently told him to "stop fucking them and have a few drinks."

he was referring to you. little did he know that there was no "fucking" going on. but you didn't know if you wished there was, or if you were just tired with a foggy mind.

so you both obliged. he drank while you vowed to be the designated driver (it wasn't necessary, you had a chauffeur) but were soon coerced too. it wasn't long before you both started giggling maniacally, cheeks flushed, and bodies warmer than normal. it was a strange feeling.

your speech is slurred and you suddenly feel drawn to isagi. you're touching him again but this time it's not scripted.

you feel the warmth of his lips against yours as he leans in for a kiss. his breath is heavy with the smell of alcohol, but you can't help but be exhilarated. his hands are gentle as they cup your face, and you can feel the heat radiating off of him.

the intoxication in his kiss is evident, but you feel like you're being swept away in the moment. your heart races as his lips move against yours.

you can still feel the alcohol in his kiss, and it makes your head spin, you're getting more drunk just kissing him.

you're an alcoholic, you're having symptoms of withdrawal as soon as you part. so you pull him in, and apparently he's just as much of a drunkard as you are.

"fucking hell, i didn't mean fuck in front of us."

it was isagi's friend again. you didn't really hear what he said, it was all foggy in your mind and the only thing you could think of was the man you were kissing, there and then.

the next morning was just as much of a blur as the last night had been. you couldn't recognise your surroundings but you could smell a familiar cologne on the pillow you had slept on.

a figure approached the dimly lit room with a tray in its hands and when you looked to see who it was you were all but unsurprised. it was isagi, once again. you could remember hints of last night and seeing as you were laying in his bed you could figure out much of the rest.

"so, about last night."

"i don't want to fake-date anymore." your words came out much firmer than you wanted. you sounded angry, when in reality your stomach couldn't stop fluttering and all you could think of was getting back into bed with him.

"you want to break up?"

"no you idiot. i want to be with you. really. not scripted. not for show. but really, truly."

he smiled. a wide, beaming smile. the only smile ever. the smile. he was smiling at you.

#isagi x you #bllk isagi #isagi yoichi #isagi x reader #blue lock isagi #isagi #blue lock #blue lock x reader #blue lock x you #bllk x reader #bllk #bllk x you #blue lock headcanons #bllk headcanons #bllk anime #bllk imagines #blue lock imagines #bllk manga #isagi yoichi x you #isagi yoichi x reader #yuck #absolutely hate this #but i haven't posted in a while #(🎆) — season of love event

[shyvioletcat]

AELIN WEEK: DAY TWO 

~ Love Language ~

A/N: We all know that at least one of Aelin’s love languages is physical touch so this DEFINITELY counts. Okay, so this is a another part of I Wish You Would which was meant to be a oneshot but now it’s not. It’s not as good as the first, I will admit, but I think it passes. 

CW: Smut 18+, a couple of swears.

~~~~~

Rowan was steadily making his way through his third round of edits on his latest book. It was the fifth instalment for his current series and his deadline for submission was starting to get uncomfortably close. He’d been distracted or maybe it could be said one singular distraction instead, not at all an unpleasant one. Aelin was the best kind of distraction he could ever ask for. 

Since their… unexpected and explosive tryst at the pop culture convention they’d found more than enough excuses to be together. Some might call it strange how easily they slotted into each other’s lives. All that animosity turned into something just as burning and passionate, but with far better benefits. To Rowan it felt as natural as breathing to be with Aelin like this. He thought the feelings he’d been harbouring were one sided and that Aelin had truly hated him. When it came to light that all her petty quips and barbed words had come from the denial of her own feelings, that had been the best day of Rowan’s life. Since then they had barely spent any time apart, taking the time to explore many aspects of their new relationship. Some aspects they explored more often and thoroughly than others, frequently in his bed or hers. He wouldn’t deny that their chemistry was out of this world. 

With eyes fixed on the computer screen he startled as Aelin burst into his study, dressed in one of his hoodies and not much else from what he could tell. That golden hair of her’s was loose, but still messy, like she’d been running her hands through it. What caught Rowan’s eye was the open book she had pressed to her chest. It was one of his. 

“It’s me,” she said a bit breathlessly like she’d run from whatever reading nook she’d emerged from. About a week ago she’d turned in her very final draft of her latest book, she currently had all the time in the world to do as she wished. She’d chosen to binge read his books. “It’s me.”

When she repeated those two words and Rowan still had no idea what she was talking about he laughed softly. “What is?”

Aelin rushed forward, holding out the book so it flopped under the weight of all those pages. “This,” she pointed to the black letters on the cream coloured pages. “In here, this character is me.”

He might have been affronted by the physical disrespect being inflicted on his book if he hadn’t just been drastically called out. Rowan turned his office chair with a deliberate slowness, like he was trying to buy himself some time. An unasked for favour from his unconscious mind. “Huh?”

“Don’t play coy with me, Mr Three Time Orynth Bestseller Author Whitethorn,” Aelin was back to hugging the book against her chest. “I’m vain enough to recognise my own imitation.”

Rowan tried his best just to shrug it off. “Maybe your vanity is seeing something that’s not there.”

Turquoise eyes narrowed at him, but rather than arguing the point she started leafing through the pages of his book. And then she cleared her throat. 

“She stood there, blue eyes shining with ire as the bright light of the twin suns that caught the golden highlights in her hair. This woman was ready to fight and wouldn’t back down.” Aelin’s eyes left the page and they fixed on him. “Should I keep going or should I dive into the description of her stunning body?”

“You don’t even have blue eyes,” Rowan defended. “And every second female protagonist has blonde hair. More than that even.”

Aelin rolled her eyes, walking forward and pointing the book at him instead of an accusing finger. “My eyes are a shade of blue, you can’t fool me.”

“Fool you into what exactly?” Rowan said, tilting his head up to look at her.

“This is me.” Aelin all but slammed the book onto his desk. 

That move had her leaning forward a little, making the hoodie gape at her thighs. Rowan couldn’t resist, his hand reached out, fingers splaying across her soft skin. The touch weakened some of Aelin’s swaggering and she stepped a tiny bit closer so that his hand could slip just a fraction higher. 

“You can prove nothing,” Rowan insisted. “And don’t act like you haven’t done the exact same thing.”

The smallest hint of colour bloomed on her cheeks and she crossed her arms defensively. “No, I have not.”

Rowan grinned, his hand sliding down to the sensitive skin behind her knee. It made her squirm. Or maybe that was because he’d turned the tables on her. 

“You don’t think I’ve noticed your penchant for silver haired male love interests popping up in your books.” Rowan pulled on her knee, making Aelin stumble forward but he steadied her with the other hand landing on her hip.

“I’ll have you know,” Aelin’s mouth twisted as she tried to hide her smile, “that it is a very popular hair colour for male characters in fantasy.”

Rowan’s voice was full of humoured incredulousness. “Is it?”

Aelin was close enough now that he could rest his chin on her stomach, to look up at her face that was continuing to flush. 

“Yes.” She untucked one hand and started counting. “We’ve got Geralt, Thranduil, Legolas…” then her face brightened with a new thought. “One of your kick-ass women is named Ayla, how thinly veiled is that comparison?”

“And there’s the guy you straight up named after a tree with green eyes. But you did change the eye colour there, though,” Rowan added.

“But my point is,” Aelin said, choosing to ignore him now that she was thoroughly ratted out. “You did it too.” 

Rowan smirked up at her, pulling on her hip so she swayed. “I didn’t deny it.”

“You… no you just evaded.” Aelin poked him in the chest to prove her point. 

Rowan felt his expression turn smug, catching that hand before she could poke him again. “Just think, if you had read my books to begin with you could have figured out my crush a long time ago. You could have saved yourself a lot of frustration and all that extra brain power that went into that teasing of yours.”

“But that would have been a lot less fun,” Aelin’s voice turned sultry and she stepped closer on her own, her free hand reaching for his neck. “Okay, but consider. Would our first time been *that good without all that tension.”

She drew out the last three words.

Rowan nodded, kissing the fingers of the hand he still held. “You have a point. I did enjoy hearing how much you wanted it.”

He heard Aelin’s breath hitch and her cheeks turned a deeper shade of red. 

“I never would have gotten that out of you in any other scenario,” Rowan said confidently, squeezing her hip for emphasis. “You’re so godsdamned stubborn and I love it.”

That had Aelin grinning. She stepped out of his grasp and she waltzed over to one of his floor to ceiling bookcases running her fingers along the spines. “So, we both did it.”

“It would seem so,” Rowan said, swivelling in his chair to follow her movements. 

“Also seems like we’ve been falling for each other longer than we care to admit,” Aelin mused. “It’s got me thinking.”

Rowan leaned back as far as his office chair would allow him. “About?”

Aelin sent him a sly smile before she turned around completely and gave him the opportunity to admire her long legs. He was so distracted he didn’t notice she had a book in her hands until she started reading. ““Please,” she breathed, fingers digging into his lower back for emphasis. His low groan was his only answer as he hoisted her up. She wrapped her legs around his waist, letting him carry her not to the bed, but to the wall, and the sensation of the cool wood against her back compared to the heat and hardness of him pushing into her front.”

When she was done, Aelin just looked at him for a long moment. Then she very deliberately put the book back on the shelf, exactly where she’d got it from.

“So we’ve established that Celaena is me,” something mischievous glinted in Aelin’s eye as she referred to the character from the book she’d just read from, the prequel of the one she’d rushed in with in the first place. “Does that mean this is a little fantasy of yours? For me?”

Now it was Rowan’s turn to blush. “Um… maybe?”

Aelin laughed in triumph. “That’s a yes!”

Her laughter and his embarrassment had him out of his chair and closing the distance between them. He crowded her against the shelving and the laughing turned into giggles. That sound utterly undid him and he was powerless to stop the way his body was drawn to her. Aelin was looking up at him, her eyes wide and expectant—just waiting for him to just do something. 

“You eased your tension with your teasing and taunting,” Rowan said, leaning in a little further. “I had to find another avenue.”

He dragged his hand down the bookcase, right next to Aelin’s body but he made sure not to touch her. She watched fingers dragged over the spines, pages and wood, then as they stopped right text to her hip.

“So what will it be, Aelin?” Rowan said, bringing their faces within an inch of each other. “Will you go back and read my book, or shall I convince you to stay with me for a while?”

Aelin tipped her head up so that their lips almost brushed. “I might be able to be convinced.”

“How shall I do it? Words or with my tongue and teeth?” He accentuated that question by closing the distance and pressed a biting kiss to Aelin’s bottom lip. She’d had so much fun quoting his books, he might as well start quoting hers. That line had always been a particular favourite of his.

Her answering moan was beautiful, and it spiked the arousal that was already coursing through him. There would be no way in hell he’d be able to go back to writing without fucking her first. Aelin would take hold of every thought and moment, and he’d probably just end up typing her name over and over again. And it wasn’t like she didn’t already occupy every other waking thought, but with this need consuming him Rowan would be utterly useless. 

“Yeah, that,” Aelin said breathlessly. “Your mouth is what I want, Rowan.”

“Your pleasure is mine, princess,” he told her, another quote, which she traded in kind. 

“Do your worst, Prince.”

Aelin laughed breathlessly as Rowan brought their bodies flush, with a rough tug on her hips and his lips descended to her neck. That sound was cut short when his teeth dragged over her neck, replacing the soft press of his lips. Aelin moulded into him and Rowan used that to his advantage. With hands on her waist he guided her backwards, until her back was resting on the step ladder he used to reach the books on the upper shelves. Aelin had gushed over it when she’d first seen it, told him she was getting jealous of his library. She was about to enjoy it for an entirely different reason.

Rowan lifted her just a little, so she could perch on one of the flat steps. It took half a second for her to realise what Rowan was doing, and the way he dropped to his knees was the final confirmation. He ran his hands up and down Aelin’s calves, watching as confidence and lust spread through her—her chin lifted, a pointed foot leading her leg over his shoulder as her arms twined upwards to hold onto the ladder. She looked like a god ready to be worshipped. 

As promised, his tongue and teeth teased a course up her leg. Aelin’s composure was lasting but he didn’t miss the way her body shuddered when his fingers hooked into the waistband of her underwear and dragged them down her legs. As his lips travelled higher still, Rowan pushed the hem of his hoodie up. The tension between them went taut, Aelin waiting for him to do something and Rowan considering when he’d put her out of her misery. 

He didn’t have the care to wait. Three more kisses up her thigh and then Rowan had her moaning on his tongue. As often as they had found themselves in scenes like this, Rowan was still discovering how he could get Aelin to unravel under his ministrations. So he catalogued every sound, each little moan and sigh as he worked the apex of her thighs. Rowan made note of how Aelin’s fingers tightened in his hair when he flicked his tongue over her clit, the way her leg shook when he sucked hard.  And the way her whole body shuddered when he bit at delicate skin. 

“Oh, fuck me,” Aelin groaned. “How are—oh!”

A flat lick of his tongue had Aelin writhing and Rowan could tell she was close. He’d learned that much, he could feel it in the way her body was as tight as a drawn bow string. It wouldn’t take much more for her to break. And he needed it. 

He swirled his tongue around her clit and that was all it took. Aelin moaned, the sound coming from deep within her throat. Her body shook from pleasure, and she clung to the ladder like a lifeline. Rowan didn’t stop moving until she did, praising her with soft kisses on her thighs. 

“Gods, Rowan,” Aelin panted as he stood to his full height. “This might be my new favourite piece of furniture.”

Rowan might have joined in with her laughter if he hadn’t been painfully hard. Watching her come without him was both a curse and a blessing. It was as hot as hell but left him wanting her even more. Aelin must have caught onto his dilemma because this time it was her reaching out to pull him forward by his hips, no hesitation before her hand slipped into his sweats. His hand that slammed into the books by her head nearly sent them flying. 

“That feels good,” he groaned, loving the way her hand dragged over the length of him. 

“Where do you want me?” Aelin breathed, her lips hot on his neck. 

The bedroom was too far, and three out of four walls in this room were covered in books, the last had his desk blocking the way. It was hard to think straight with Aelin’s hands on him, but he needed to answer her question. There was an armchair in the corner where he liked to read. That would be his best option. 

Rowan gathered Aelin into his arms and carried her over to that chair, falling into it bringing her with him. They wasted no time, as soon as he was down Rowan slipped a hand under the hoodie, feeling the soft skin beneath. He groaned when he found out she wore absolutely nothing beneath, Aelin swallowing the sound with a kiss. 

She started moving on him, grinding down on his hard cock. Rowan’s head fell back, his breath falling into rhythm with Aelin’s movements. “I gotta have you.” 

“I know.” Aelin pushed off him, standing between his spread knees. Her hands gripped the bottom of the hoodie, pulling it up slowly. 

It was tortuous, watching the revelation inch by inch. Rowan palmed himself through his pants trying to ease some of the strain. When Aelin stood before him, utterly naked and beautiful, Rowan started to ask himself how he got so lucky. 

She lent forward, hands bracing on the chair arms. “Am I going to have to dash to the bedroom for a condom, or…”

“Desk drawer,” Rowan nearly barked. 

Aelin smirked at his tone, and while she strutted over there Rowan took the opportunity to get rid of his own clothes. He only got as far as ridding himself of his t-shirt and lost sight of her as he pulled it over his head. Just like magic, when his vision was a haze of black cotton, she seemed to appear right in front of him. The foil package was ripped open and the next thing he knew Aelin was kissing him, pulling his pants down just far enough to free his cock. 

“Ready, there handsome?” Aelin teased, always ready to unleash some of her sass. It was one of the things that he’d come to really enjoy about her. His brain was currently too lust addled to give that idea some proper thought. If he considered it for long he might say something that might be considered a little preemptive.  

“When it comes to you, always,” Rowan said instead.

Aelin went to lower herself into his lap when he stopped her, with broad hands on her waist. She looked annoyed and confused, until Rowan urged her to turn around. He kept one hand on her hip to guide her and the other ran up the bare skin of her back to the nape of her neck. Aelin arched into his touch, sighing heavily at the first brush of the head of his cock through her folds. 

“Please, Rowan,” Aelin gasped. “I know you need me.”

Those words were his undoing and he tugged Aelin into his lap, fully seating himself inside her. They both moaned at that blissful, intimate contact, the feeling was something Rowan would never tire of. Aelin lay back on his chest, a hand sliding into his hair to give her something to hold on to. Rowan wasn’t idle either, touching everywhere he could reach before resting on her breasts. 

“Gods, yes,” Aelin breathed as he started to play with her hardened nipples. 

“You’re perfect,” Rowan said onto her skin, twisting a bud between his fingers—just shy of pain.

His reward was a sudden jerk of Aelin’s hips and a sharp tug to the strands of his hair. Once she started moving, she couldn’t stop. Rowan timed his thrusts with the rolling grind of Aelin’s body—kissing her shoulder, her neck. Neither of them could keep quiet and the room filled with their sounds of pleasure. Rowan felt her inner wall tighten around him, making him bite down on the soft skin at the juncture on her neck and shoulder.

“Don’t draw it out, I won’t last,” Aelin told him. 

That was more than enough reason for Rowan to take what he needed, that of course included Aelin coming on his cock. A hand snaked over her body, down her toned stomach right to where he knew his touch would make her come undone. Rowan’s finger drew quick circles around her clit, making Aelin cry out over and over again until she finished on a throaty moan.

Rowan kept her steady, chasing his own high with languid thrust as he helped Aelin ride out hers. He let go, release rushing through him, his body sinking into the plush armchair as his cock stopped pulsing. Aelin was limp against him and the sounds of her soft breaths is what brought him back to the present. 

Aelin hummed, the sound was one of contentment. “I think I just got some inspiration for my new book.”

Rowan’s laughter shook both of them. “Will you dedicate it to me so when your next heroine gets laid in a library your readers know who to thank?”

“That’s not such a bad idea,” Aelin said. “Everyone should know just how lucky you are.”

With a hand on her chin, Rowan tilted her face so he could kiss her—long enough that Aelin was breathless when they stopped. He took a moment just to appreciate how truly lucky he was to have this beautiful woman to call his. A thumb brushed along Aelin’s cheek and Rowan kissed her again, then said,  “I’ll be sure to do the same.”

~~~~~

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#aelinweek #aelinweek2023 #rowaelin fanfiction #i wish you would #it's a oneshot is the biggest lie of my life

[multifandomimagin3s]

The Mercenary

A/N: So I received a lot of requests for a fic based on my Mercenary!Reader headcanons post, it's a bit short and sweet but I hope you guys like it ~

Warnings: Violence and strong language - am I making the reader basically a female deadpool? probably.

The tension in the room was so thick it could be cut with a knife. Price struggled to contain his anger as he peered at the screen in front of him, seeing Laswell was in a similar state herself. General Shepard continued, undeterred by their visible annoyance;

"I have hired someone who I know will help to get the job done," He drawled," They're efficient and while they may come from a questionable background, I can't afford for any more failures, Captain."

Price could feel his blood begin to boil - it was practically a direct insult to him, and to his taskforce. Since when did his team need any help to get a job done, and done right? It was practically a slap in the face.

"Sir, I understand your concerns - but is contracting a mercenary really the best solution for this?" Laswell interjected, " The last mission gave us valuable intel, we have leads on a few of Hassan's associates, I don't understand why we need to hire them when 141 have shown that they're more than capable of handling things as a unit."

"Granted that is true - but I'm not taking any chances here," Shepard gruffly retorted. For whatever reason, he really was dead set on contracting this Mercenary. Naturally, it made Price more than suspicious as to what his motives were.

"Captain," Price bit the inside of his cheek, as his eyes all but burned through the webcam at his Superior," The Mercenary will be touching down on base tomorrow, with an ETA of 12 hundred hours - see to it that they're debriefed on the mission before extraction."

----------------------------

"There's no picture here," Laswell flipped through the pages in the manilla file," Wait - there's one... but all the faces are blurred out..."

"Hm," Price folded his arms over his chest," Must mean that whoever Shepard hired must be considered dangerous enough to warrant that kind of secrecy..."

"There's 10 people in this photo - he could have hired any of them," Laswell separated the pages, spreading them across the table top," All we have is their callsign, not much else to go on..."

Price hummed. It wasn't unlike Shepard to only give out information he deemed "necessary" - whatever he chose to not disclose at the time usually came as a surprise after the fact, and typically it wasn't pleasant.

"I haven't seen this symbol before," Laswell turned the paper to face Price; there were two logos printed in stark black and white - one being the signature wolf emblem seen on KorTac operatives, and the other appearing to be some species of snake, gaping mouth open with sharp fangs prepared to strike.

"Serpentes," Price clicked his tongue," They're a subsidiary of KorTac, haven't seen any of their operatives in the field in nearly a decade."

"Why would Shepard hire from KorTac?" It was basically a rhetorical question and the both of them knew that. Shepard kept his cards close to his chest - his half-arsed excuse didn't sit well with either of them but the more they pushed the General, the further away they would get from finding out the actual truth.

"Haven't the foggiest," Price sighed, scratching his chin," But whoever he's hired, they better not be a fuckin' nutter."

-----------------------------------------------

You didn't expect to be 'best of buds' with the Task Force upon your first interaction with them - with everything you've heard about 141 from Shepard, and from your team-mates, you weren't anticipating the warmest of welcomes either. But it didn't put you off any - you'd been hired to work with them, so if you were to kill each other before you even got out onto the field, then what good would that be?

As soon as the hatch door of the helicopter opened, you were greeted by the sight of a bearded man dressed in the standard khaki army uniform - if you excluded the bucket hat on his head. You had to admit he was quite handsome - but you weren't so stupid as to let that drop your guard, especially when in a foreign area.

You swung your duffel bag over your shoulder, descending down the ramp towards him. His eyes flickered across the mask adorning your face, as if trying to burn through the material and see the face beneath. It was a natural response, you thought - even though you were dressed in what would equate to 'skivvys,' the fact he didn't know what you looked like and definitely didn't know your name was probably setting off alarm bells in his head.

"Captain Price," He grunted with a tight-lipped smile, holding his hand out for you to shake as if it pained him," And you must be the Mercenary."

"Yep," You replied, in a tone that was just a bit too chipper for his liking," Call me 'Copperhead."

"Like the snake? Very fitting."

"Yeah, well - we tried 'Black Mamba' and 'Australian Brown Snake' but the first sounded a like a sex toy, and the latter was too long."

Price almost choked on his own spit. It was kind of amusing to watch the man splutter to find the right words - if you were in his ranks you probably would have been scolded a bit for that, but you weren't.

"Right, well," He was quick to recompose himself but didn't meet your eyes," Follow me - the team are awaiting your arrival for a debrief on the mission."

-----------------------------------------

As soon as you stepped into the meeting room, three pairs of eyes locked onto you. You stuck out a bit like a sore thumb in comparison to the rest - the casual uniform for your regiment was a deep burgundy top, not unlike the military's, but paired with burgundy cargos with gold trims on the pockets.

"Boys, this is 'Copperhead," Price nodded to the group whilst keeping a slight distance between you both. You felt like rolling your eyes but restrained yourself - as if you'd kill him in his own territory when on payroll," Copperhead - Sergeant Gaz Garrick; Sergeant Soap MacTavish; Lieutenant Ghost."

Garrick and Soap seemed to practically lounge in their chairs, giving you a brief nod in recognition as their names were called. Their eyes were trained on you the entire time, showing that despite how relaxed they appeared, they absolutely hadn't let their guard down.

Ghost shifted slightly in his chair, dark eyes burning through the eyeholes of his mask. His posture was practically poker-straight, arms folded across his chest - he was clearly sizing you up.

"Copperhead? What's the craic there?" Soap enquired - he too had an unusual call sign, as he'd been told many times over the years.

"Hey, I got lucky - some poor fucker ended up with milk snake," You replied, dumping your duffel next to the door," Was a choice between Copperhead or Diamond Back for a while - both were a good fit but Copperhead stuck."

"Diamond back?" Gaz enquired with a confused expression.

"Because I have an amazing arse." Soap and Gaz snorted a laugh. Ghost, however, appeared to be unamused - well, it was hard to tell what he was actually feeling considering you couldn't see his face. But the gruff "fuckin' 'ell" told you what you needed to know. You smirked under your mask - he was going to be the most fun to wind up.

"Alright - enough of the pleasantries," Price interjected, coming to stand at the end of the room," Let's get to what we're all here for - the mission."

-----------------------------------------------

"So, the uniform," Soap enquired, leaning back slightly in his chair as he gestured to your clothing," Is that to go with the name or is that just standard issue for you lot?"

It was quite strange as to how quickly he started to try and make idle chat with you - while his comrade Gaz seemed to similarly be relatively relaxed in your presence, he still aired on the side of caution.

"Bit of both," You shrugged," Different uniforms for different missions - the red and gold is pretty much standard, goes with that old saying that people use to identify potentially dangerous snakes."

He looked at you perplexed. Ghost's deep voice piped up, and you noted how he rolled his eyes - whether that was directed at you or his comrades, you weren't entirely certain: "Red touches yellow - kill a fellow."

"Makes sense, you know," You half-hazardly gestured to the snake emblem plastered to your outer bicep," It;s kind of poetic, right? Although, it does also kind of give McDonalds vibes - good thing the tactical suits are less ugly."

"You're out on the field to kill - it's not a bloody fashion show," Came Ghost's blunt reply.

You smiled widely, eyes crinkling at the corners," Just 'cause I'm splattering people's brains across the wall doesn't mean I can't look sexy doing it - and trust me, I do."

"I couldn't give less of a fuck if you looked like Margot fuckin' Robbie under that mask," You could tell his blood pressure was rising by the second and it made you want to kick your feet in glee," You're a Mercenary and quite frankly it doesn't matter how good you are, if you get in the way or try and betray us, I'll take you out myself."

There was a beat of silence. Now, any other soldier would have probably curl up into a ball after having been gutted out by the Lieutenant - any normal person would have practically pissed themselves at the sheer sight of him. Soap and Gaz's eyes flitted between their comrade and you, as if torn between being engrossed in the dynamic between you both and preparing for Ghost to actually strangle you.

"Wow - have only known you for five minutes and you're already talking dirty to me," You cooed in a slightly mocking tone," You work fast, Ghost."

"Shut the fuck up, you tit -"

"When you said you'd take me out - did you mean with a sniper or like on a date? Because hey, we can see how the mission goes, I'm game for either -"

"I swear to fucking god-!!"

"Mission debrief is over!" Price boomed, pinching the bridge of his nose between his index and thumb," Soap - take Copperhead to their room, and all of you get the fuck out of here, now."

The room fell into complete silence, as Soap got up to escort you off to wherever on the base they'd decided would be fit for you. You sent a wink to Ghost's agitated form, chuckling as you picked up your duffel," Look forward to working with you, Dream Team."

Soap shook his head, fighting the smile about to crawl onto his face. He could feel the eyes of both his superiors burning into the back of his skull. He was no fool, and he knew that despite how jovial you seemed, you were a trained killer. So he wouldn't be letting you get too close to him.

Gaz left shortly after you and Soap made your swift departure. Ghost stared at the door, as if trying to shoot lasers through it and down the corridor to where you were.

"Lieutenant - a word?"

"Yes, Sir?"

"I want you to keep a close eye on that one," Price spoke lowly, as if you could hear through walls.

Ghost gritted his teeth at the prospect of having to work alongside you. As far as he was concerned, you were a massive pain in the arse and the fact that you couldn't be trusted just gave him all the more reason to dislike you.

"I've already read through their file - not much information, Laswell's working on it, but what's there is more than enough to make you watch your six."

"Affirmative, sir."

"As you know, pick-up is at 0600 tomorrow - until we know more about the Mercenary, we can't take any chances," Price shook his head in thought," God knows why Shepard hired them... if they're as dangerous as their file says, then we have our work cut out for us."

Thank you guys for reading! ~

#simon riley #soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #captain john price #call of duty #multifandomimagin3s

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Assistant Peter or Best Friend's Ex Bucky?

Everybody Talks

Warnings: unwanted touches, suggestions of more.

Please send in feedback if so inclined. Thank you all 💜

❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

"Rough night?" Peter sets down a steaming mug of coffee, the aroma drawing a sigh from your lungs.

You look up from your mindless scrolling and hide a yawn behind your hand. He smiles as he slides the cup closer and takes a step back, a portfolio under his arm. His youth irritates you as much as it piques your envy. He's always so chipper.

"Here you go, boss," he puts the leather folder on the other side of your desk, "this is the mock-up for the Winter spread."

"Mmm," you nod but make no move to take the folder, instead opting for the blonde roast with a touch of oat milk. He always gets it exactly right. "Thanks. Again, boss seems a bit... heavy."

"Sorry, habit," he shrugs and you notice the line of his shoulders, the way the line of his throat leads down below his collar, a hint at the broad chest that makes his buttons strain, "my old job was super strict."

"And we're not," you challenge, "Parker, you've worked here two years."

"It's gone fast, what can I say? And I still can't believe how lucky I am to have the best boss in the world."

"Calm down, you'll get a stellar reference you click on outlook and nearly purr as you have your first sip, "what is this?"

You look at the cup and give it a sniff.

"They had a new flavour in the lounge, sugar cookie."

"Ah."

"I know it's not the usual but we all deserve a treat from time to time."

"No problem, it's good," you set the cup down and rub your cheek as you cradle your chin in your hand, "thanks, Parker. You can get back to it."

He hesitates, lingering, "you sure you don't need anything else?"

"You know I didn't hire you to be my coffee jockey, you got enough on your plate."

"Yes, bo--" he stops himself and uses your name instead, "you know where to find me."

"Sure do," you say as your phone screen lights up and draws your attention. Another call from your husband. He can wait. Or rot for all you care.

❤️‍🔥

"Norman, I don't care-- No, no, I'm not one of your cronies. Or your son. Don't start that with me," you huff into the speaker, your screen saver bouncing against the walls of your monitor, "we talked about this already. You want to go, go. It will be alone. You've known about Paris all year. I can't miss it."

"Darling, you really are intractable. It's an anniversary gift and again, you want to work--"

"Yes, I do. It's my job. It's the same thing every year, Norman," you snap, "and don't begin to lecture me on work trips and family obligations, alright? How many nights have I slept alone while you're out schmoozing your business partners or late at the lab. If you want to talk about this, call Dr. Suzanne and I'll be happy to have her advise."

"Ugh, I do love your fire, dear, but it burns hot," he snarls.

"Oh shut up." You hang up and toss your phone on your desk and lean back in your chair with a growl. You don't know why you don't just go to the lawyer already. Well, you know, the same excuse as always. You're too busy.

You shake your head and roll forward, swiping away the idle screen and setting back to your itinerary. Before Norman, you weren't like this. You liked being home but he made work your only escape. It was an easy excuse not to be entirely alone.

❤️‍🔥

You're barely away as you slowly flip through the pages of the portfolio. The blue-tinted lighting of the editorial is lackluster. You don't recall giving Seasonal Affective Disorder as a theme. You scribble in your notebook and chew the end of the pen. You really don't want to have a whole new shoot but some of these photos are lit like shit.

There's a gentle knock and you lurch back in your chair. Most of the office is gone by now.

"Come in," you call over your desk as you rest your fingertips on the glossy page.

A bouquet of flowers enters. For a moment you don't notice the body on the other side. Peter holds the huge basket of petals in his arms as he angles through, his reddish hair barely visible over the top. He puts them down on the round table by the window.

"These came for you," he says as he faces you, giving a sniff to his shirt, "they smell nice."

"I can only imagine who sent them," you grumble, Norman's oldest trick. You're well past him buying forgiveness. "If it wasn't such a hassle, I'd have you dump them in the bin."

"If that's what you want--"

"Parker, no," you scoff, "what are you still doing here."

"I got a bit carried away planning for Paris. I didn't go last year so... I'm kinda excited."

"Yeah, I... guess I take it for granted," you roll the pen between your fingers and put it down, "you need to go."

"And what about you?" He counters.

"I'm headed out," you say as you close the portfolio, "promise."

He nods, his brown eyes warm and placid as he watches you stand. You give an awkward smile as your knee gives a pop. You're really starting to feel the long work days. He looks down, you assume because of the noise and you do too. Your wrap skirt exposes more than your knee but the top of your sheer stocking. You fix it quickly.

"Uh," his throat bobs, "yeah, I'll get going, boss."

You want to correct him but you're too embarrassed. You wait for him to go before you give yourself a thorough lookover. Everything else is exactly where it belongs. Great, just the young assistant seeing the grumpy old lady's thigh, no big deal.

🤛

It's rainy in Paris.

It hardly matters to Peter as you cross the airport with bags in tow and he babbles on about all the things he's read about. Lindy delayed her flight at the last moment and Howard always came early and left sooner. You try to be patient, try to remember when you were an intern in New York for the first time, but you're drawn thin. Norman didn't even say goodbye.

You get a taxi and give the Hotel's name. It's more expensive so the driver needs no direction. You tip him and Peter follows you out. He follows you up to the grand archway entrance and gives a noise of awe as you cross the lobby. You decide to give him Lindy's suite since she won't be there.

He gleefully takes his keycard and you check your phone. Yep, nothing. Norman's past hounding you. You're as infuriated as you are relieved.

"Here," Peter grabs your suitcase before you can, "I got it."

"They have bellboys--"

"I'm stronger," he winks as he wheels ahead of you, "this way, mademoiselle."

You could laugh at his little act. You trail behind him to the elevator and he lets you in ahead of him. The ascent has you slightly dizzy and you step off thankfully. You check your keycard and point him in the right direction.

You thank him, almost reaching for a bill from your wallet to give him, and catch yourself.

"Anything else?" He asks as he rolls your suitcase to stand against the wall.

"No, Parker, that's fine. Thank you."

"Peter," he says, "two years and you still call me Parker."

"I'm... sorry," you say softly, realising how you reproached him for simply calling you boss. "P- Peter, if I've been rude these last few weeks, I apologise. I've had a lot going on and it's not an excuse to take it out on you."

"Rude? No, like I said, best boss I've ever had."

You nod and let out a sigh, "well, I'll... see you tomorrow morning."

"Bright and early, mademoiselle," he grins, "have a good one."

He spins on his heel and strides out lightly. You close the door behind him and groan as it clicks, the hours in a plane seat twinge in your hips. You have to try to enjoy this trip, if only to spite Norman.

❤️‍🔥

"You can have Lindy's seat," you say as you lead Peter amid the crowds, "wouldn't look good to have an empty seat with our name on it. Especially in the front-- Maria!" You interrupt yourself as you great the silver-haired designer, "so wonderful to see you again. Thank you so much for the gift basket."

"Thank you for the editorial," she says in her lilted baritone, "oh my, have we traded in the old model?"

She tweaks a brow in Peter's direction and his cheeks redden as you peek over at him. You give a soft laugh, not enough to embarrass him.

"This is my assistant, Peter Parker. He's a photographer as well."

"Peter Parker," Maria drawls out, "what an... American name."

"I do happen to be American," Peter says dumbly.

"How absolutely adorable, I could spoon him up and eat him with a nice sorbet."

"Uhhh," Peter gives a squint.

"Don't let us keep you," you gently touch Maria's elbow, "we should find our seats."

She passes on as another voice calls out her name. You continue on to the crowded runway and edge along the front row. You sit and smooth your skirt, a vintage designer piece chosen deliberately for the event. An editor-in-chief can't look a mess even if they feel one. Peter looks good enough in a Gucci button up and slacks, hair tidy enough to seem as if he belongs. You can't help but notice the Louis Vuitton loafers.

"Are those new?" You ask.

"Oh, uh, have a friend who tends to hoard nice things," he shrugs, "and that dress?"

"Not new," you assure him.

"Still, it looks good."

"Comes with the territory. Everyone's here competing and in the front row, the press will be sure to get a couple snaps."

"Wow, is that Shaq?" He looks across the aisle, "I didn't think he'd be into fashion."

"Like I said, people come to be seen and they are seen," you say.

"Oh, right," he looks around and his eyes round. There's already a long lens aimed in your direction, "it hasn't even started yet."

"Yeah, there's really no start or end, it just happens," you say, "last year wasn't particularly great for us. Howard got a bit... tipsy so he's skipping it this year."

"Ah," he nods and smooths his shirt. You try not to pay attention as the fabric draws taut over his chest.

Another guest claims the chair next to you and you greet them, another editor, and settle in as seats begin to feel. The anticipation builds until the room grows dim. The runway lights up with shades of rose. The crowd quiets and Maria comes out to introduce her collection.

As the first model comes back, you make sure to keep your posture straight. You've done this enough times to be aware of every tick and move you make. You have a magazine to represent and right now, it's the only thing going right in your life. You watch the designs and give a thought arch of your brow, the colors are interesting but the cut doesn't quite fit.

You feel a tickle on your leg but keep your focus on the runway. Then the warmth spread across your leg and squeezes you through your skirt. You flick your lashes in shock as Peter leans over as he feels your thigh, "I like the colours..."

"What are you doing?" You withhold your chagrin as you move your lips subtly, focusing on keeping your composure.

"Just wanted to get your attention..." he whispers, "and the press. Imagine what they'll say."

"Peter, get your hand off me." You warn under your breath.

"It'll definitely piss Norman off, won't it?" He snickers as he leans even closer, retracting his hand, only to drape his arm over your shoulders, "an editor-in-chief with a younger man, too? The scandal."

"Parker--"

"This isn't appropriate."

"Don't worry, boss," he brushes his nose along your cheek, "it's not all for the press. I really am going to fuck you."

#peter perker #peter parker x reader #dark peter parker #dark!peter parker #drabble #ask drabble #dark drabble #dark!drabble #mcu #marvel #spider man #avengers

[brighteststar707]

glasses

For as long as he can remember, Saeyoung has seen the world a little out-of-focus.

As a small child, he used to sneak old storybooks back home to read out loud to Saeran at night. The stories provided them with an escape from their reality, a place they could imagine beyond their miserable bedroom. They had to keep the lights off, just in case their mother barged in and caught them still awake. He spent many nights squinting down at the pages of the book, trying to make out the words on the page.

Many years later, it’s what he attributes his bad eyesight to (along with staring at screens for most of his life). He wouldn’t undo it, even if he could.

When he managed to sneak outside, Saeran would point out things to Saeyoung that he couldn’t make out. Figures in the clouds that just looked like fuzzy blobs, pretty blossoming flowers in the trees that were just spots of colour. He would just nod along, not sure what he was missing. It just made sense to him that Saeran could see the pretty things in the world.

The real trouble came when his mother sent him out on errands. Signs in the shops were hard to make out, and he was paranoid of dark figures hiding in his peripherals. It wasn’t difficult to project leering faces onto the face of every stranger on the street. It felt like he had to work twice as hard to navigate the world. On those days, he’d return home with a pounding headache and his eyes burning.

When he saw Rika for the first time, he thought she was an angel. With her brilliant green eyes and her flowing waves of hair, he was sure he had finally found salvation. She introduced him to the church and he basked its beautiful stained glass windows and imposing structure. The places he frequented were never this grand. He was used to shady alleyways and corner shops. Going to mass felt like an indulgence.

Every Sunday without fail, he’s there, perched on in a pew in the back, at the edge of his seat so as to make out what’s happening up at the altar. V watches him and puts two and two together. After mass one day, he asks Saeyoung some questions. He has never given his vision much thought, until V asks him how far he can see and if he can make out certain details. Until he realizes that he can’t. That he’s supposed to.

He keeps thinking about it all the way home, and for the next few weeks after that. It feels like a strange vulnerability has been exposed, some weakness he didn’t know how to fight.

Just as he has started to forget the whole incident, V comes up to him before mass and offers him a small box.

“Now, obviously, we couldn’t get your exact lens strength without an in-person exam, but I’m hoping that these will be a help.”

Saeyoung opens the box to reveal a pair of wire-rimmed glasses with big round lenses. He hesitantly takes them out of the box, the frame pinched delicately between his fingers so that he doesn’t touch the glass.They feel too delicate for someone like him.

V urges him to put them on, so he very carefully slides them onto his face and blinks a few times as the world comes into focus for the first time.

He gasps. The sheer amount of detail he has been missing all this time is overwhelming. He can see the faces of the other churchgoers as they approach, Rika’s expectant smile as she stands of to the side watching. The leaves on trees that used to be green blurs and the details on the facade of the church that he thought was smooth. All those figures he was scared of now have faces. They’re tired, excited, teenagers, fathers, mothers. They’re no longer threats.

The clouds have real form to them, shapes and shadows just like Saeran had described to him. V gave him the beauty he though he wasn’t allowed to see.

Saeyoung doesn’t have the words to explain the magnitude of the gift he has just been given. Instead, he tells V a million thank yous and promises anything he can do to help him or Rika or the Church. As usual, V dismisses his offers, reminds him that he has enough to do. That he’s happy to help any way he can.

During mass that day, he sits comfortably and admires the stained glass windows and the images he didn’t notice before. He feels safer on his walk home, and hesitates a little before he takes them off again. He slips them back into the little box before going inside, and hides them under his pillow until he knows it’s safe to show Saeran. 

They’re his prized possession.

#there were a couple of people here speculating how he got his glasses so here's my two cents #There's something magical about wearing glasses for the first time #also i've got another one of these coming soon soo stay tuned? #been thinking about him lately and just the little things #mystic messenger #mystic messenger saeyoung #mystic messenger saeyoung choi #mysme saeyoung choi #mysme 707 #mysme seven #mysme luciel #my writing

[luwritesomething]

Billy Loomis: Headcanons.

Warnings: swearing, and maybe typos, and mentions of manipulation and (untreated) mental illnessess.

Author's note: i love billy, what can i see. i literally have no excuse. might think about doing a part two to this if someone requests it. also, did you know that the first time we see billy on screen, a cover of this song is in the background? since then, i can't stop thinking about him whenever it plays.

comments and reblogs are always appreciated! requests are open, especially for scream! hit that anon button and tell me your ideas. in the scream fandom, i write for billy loomis, stu macher, mickey altieri, chad martin-meeks, mindy martin-meeks, tara carpenter, anika kayoko, laura crane

i think i project a lot into billy because of the daddy issues and the anger.

BUT ANYWAYS,,,

i feel like billy started feeling emotions so much after his mother left. 

like,,, he still feels things, and he laughs, and he has a good time, and he feels sad…. but all those feelings have been weakened since his mother left.

but whenever he does feel strongly, it’s like a explosion. he gets really mad, he gets really sad, and if he likes something, he gets kind of obsessed.

i think that’s some kind of disorder but i’m not here to give him a diagnosis. 

also i feel like he dissociates a lot

but that’s already from a young age

i think his childhood was happy, but now when he thinks about it he remembers a lot of fights between his parents and a sense of emptiness that he’s never really gotten rid of

it’s weird, and he hates it.

his mother is such an important person for him, and her leaving just like that and not taking him with her hurt him way more than he’s ready to admit

he doesn’t like his dad (canon)

like, he really really dislikes the dude. probably hates him.

being angry is his fuel. it’s a constant in his life

i feel like he would relate to jd from heathers. like, a worryingly lot.

he dressed up as jd for halloween, too

it just fits him a lot

he’s a weird kind of popular boy. he’s very selective with his friends, he’s mysterious, doesn’t really like big parties and he can be really rude. but he’s also really charming and he has pretty privilege, so he’s used to getting away with everything

looks like the kind who wouldn’t take notes or pay attention during class but then aces his tests and all

he observes a lot, and in silence. he knows everyone’s names, even if he plays dumb, and probably has a lot of data about everyone around him stored in his brain. very analytic, our billy boy

he’s not a big fan of physical touch. he touches who he wants (his friends, mainly) when he wants (they are all big on physical touch and rarely ever don’t want him to touch them) and only when he wants. 

billy flirts for fun, and mostly because he’s bored. he learned by observing, if not he would have no idea how to do that.

he’s bisexual.

he truly did love sidney in the beginning. his misogyny ruined everything (canon)

he went to a therapist a few times when he was a kid, because nancy (mrs loomis) was worried about him being slightly different and more quiet than other kids. the therapist didn’t pay him much attention and said he was fine.

he canonical has psychosis. the psychotic breakdown came with his mother leaving and him finding out his father had cheated with his grilfriend’s mother.

billy learned to manipulate people from his father.

spoiler, and going back to a previous headcanon, his childhood wasn’t really happy. it takes him a while to accept that, and realize he’s been under his father’s manipulation for a long time.

billy has this black notebook he carries everywhere he goes. he uses it for everything — inside, he has the plans for the murder spree, the people he hates and why, important things he has seen and will use to get what he wants, his anger spurts… it’s all there.

he plans on burning the pages with the murder spree once it’s finished, to leave to clues.

i’ve seen it so much that i can’t remember if it’s canon or if we just made it up, but billy’s father has this cabin they used to go to during the summer and winter holidays. that cabin is his happy place, he loves it and talks about it a lot.

he likes all horror movies, but the fancy ones are his favorites. he thinks he’s better than anyone else, for that, and that’s why randy annoys him so much — randy has a really good taste with movies, so they collide.

probably knows how to cook, even if it’s just a few dishes. it’s not like his father is around too much, so he’s managed to figure it all out.

he’s probably alone in his house a lot, too. even if he enjoys being alone anywhere else, he hates being alone there. 

bitter flavors are his favorite. 

he genuinely enjoys drinking beer. i hate him for that.

he celebrates the fuck out of halloween. it’s always been bigger than christmas, anyways.

his color palette is very simple: white, blue and black. maybe even brown if you push him. and that’s it, the boy’s simple and stylish.

hates being called william.

plays in the football team to release anger. he expects to get a shitty scholarship that will pay some of his college studies and never come back to woodsboro. billy doesn’t care about what he’ll study. ideally, it would be film like randy did in scream 2.

also he’s probably very good at most of the subjects except for one of those a lot of people hate — biology or physics. something like that. 

i want him to be good at english and literature and to read a lot.

and i actually headcanon him as a voracious reader, especially horror novels.

his old time favorite is dracula, but he loves stephen king’s writer. 

will defend carrie with his life.

he’s supposed to have a car? or does he share it with his dad? whatever. he walks to school most of the times, he doesn’t like driving. he gets a lot of road rage and he doesn’t want to disconnect — that’s the word he uses for his dissociative episodes — whenever he’s on the wheel.

if you’re his friend and you don’t like horror movies, no you’re not.

he’d be so good with writing essays, no, i will not elaborate.

probably can’t see shit from very afar. he used to have very good sight but not anymore — that means, he’s slightly myopic. it’s not too bad, though, so he’s refused to get glasses.

he’s very obsessive with his special interests (aren’t we all?)

really likes knifes, but are we surprised? his father probably gifted him one after a few hunting trips together, and the boy’s a goner now.

most parents like him, again, because of his charisma. even with the bad boy vibes going on, he can put on the most perfect sweet boy act and that makes everyone fall for him. he just needs to feel motivated for it to work

he’s a good actor, therefore. i think he’s proven that already, though, even if he acts hella sus all the time he fools people into trusting him

LOVES the feeling of power. billy needs to be a few steps before you to feel in control and be able to relax about anyone. knowledge is power, and he will do whatever to have that power.

mastermind™

has no favorite color — he couldn’t care less about choosing a favorite color.

#billy loomis #william loomis #skeet ulrich #scream #scream 1996 #scream 1 #billy loomis headcanons #scream franchise #lu writes #writing #my writing #Spotify

[gender0bender]

(IDs under the cut) Tranny by Laura Jane Grace / Comme des Garçons: Poem T-Shirt (2002) byJunya Watanabe / Transsexual Fires by Patrick Skater /  Truisms (1977-79/2008) by Jenny Holzer / Running up that hill by Kate Bush /  Pecos Bill by Rian Fierros

Gender Envy.

First two images: text from an online copy of a book that reads “ It was 1985 and I was five years old, still young enough to think the lyrics to Madonna's song “Material Girl” were “I am a Cheerio girl." I stood in the glow of the television in my family's living room, watching her movements in stunned, silent awe. My parents liked music, but weren't fanatical about it. My father enjoyed country and in particular Willie Nelson, while my mother's favorite was Diana Ross and the Supremes. But something about this pop star spoke to me. Watching Madonna get into the groove, I was completely mesmerized. Her dirty blond hair was moussed and frizzed to perfection. Her neon and black clothes were ripped and torn to accentuate her curves. Her chunky bracelets and necklaces sparkled and jangled against her arms and neck as she moved to the beat. I reached out my hand and touched her on the screen. That's me, I thought, clear as day. I wanted to do that. I wanted to be that. This sense of wonderment was cut short by confusion. Suddenly I realized that I would never be her, that I could never be her. Madonna was a girl; a confident symbol of femininity, singing and dancing onstage in a short skirt and high heels. I was just a small boy, living in a ranch house on an Army base in Fort Hood, Texas.

Second image: A black t shirt with white text on it that reads “I don’t want to be your lover of companion I want to be you.”

Third image:  A picture of a passage from a book that says: What would you think if your belly was full of fire, your nose choking with smoke rising from a rage so blinding you could not turn left or turn right but just stand staring out into a world you knew was enemy, no firemen in sight? How would you be nice then, appropriate, outstanding? that I stood under the lights of the ballfield and waited for my name to be called with the other boys so I could run out onto grassy arena in my clean new uniform, run out there to play with the other guys, run out there through the cool evening air. But no one ever did call out my name, didn't call out. Didn't. And so I burned like so much after-game trash, in the back, under the stands, by the chipped tar, and my ashes formed into a mutant child.

Fouth image: A cinema billboard with rearrangeable letters that are arranged to say “sex differences are here to stay.”

Fifth image: A screenshot of a lyrics page that reads “ And if I only could I'd make a deal with God And I'd get him to swap our places Be runnin' up that road Be runnin' up that hill Be runnin' up that buildin' Say, if I only could, oh.”

Sixth image: 

#transgender #trans #gender envy #web weaving #queercore #fuck if I know! #my uploads

[sunwarmed-ash]

Gavin hc:

Man needs glasses but Refuses because of course he does, but he has a secret pair of readers for home use

Omg omg I love this SO MUCH, very Gavin

Here you go! Thanks so much for the prompt!!!

DPD

Gavin squints at the terminal in frustration. 9 hours staring at the damn computer screen was already giving him a headache and add on the fact he desperately needs glasses to be able to comfortably make out the information, his headache had turned into a full scale migraine. Enough that he had to go home for the day because he was about as useful as a dick flavored lollipop.

Hanks House

He's thumbing through Hank's paperback collection, trying to find something to read before bed. 

It's an impressive collection actually. Two overflowing 6 ft bookcases full of books as old as 1910 lined their shelves. A lot of people didn't read or collect paper books anymore. In 2040 everything was electronic. Even the boyfriends. 

He's at Hank’s tonight. He spends most nights there. The Lt. and his weird RoboCop partner-turned-boyfriend and he have created a weird sort of codependent family post revolution. And Gavin can't help but be careful for it. He's been lonely for so long. With them, even his worst inner demons cower from the light Hank and Connor bring to his life. 

He settles on an old favorite and tucks the book under his arm. He knows horror probably isn't the best genre to consume before bed but IT had a personal significance to it that made it alright. 

When he pads back over to the bedroom, he hears the shower is running. There's a conversation happening behind the closed door so Connor is probably in there too. Gavin rolls his eyes fondly, reading between the lines, before walking back into Hank's bedroom with his book. 

He opens the worn and time faded paper spine to the first page, smile spreading across his face as he reads the familiar dedicated scrawl.

He starts a few chapters in, because as good as the book is, the violent and descriptive hate crime always leaves a bad taste in his mouth. The best part of the book in his opinion is the creation of the friend group anyway. 

He's two pages in and he can already feel a headache coming on from his squinting. He exhales so loudly it startles Sumo awake and Gavin is now filled with guilt on top of his frustration. 

He stares at his backpack on the chair like it personally offended him. And it may as well have. It contained the infernal devices.

"Uggghhhhhh phck! Fine!" He shouts into the open air before leaning over to tear through the front pocket. Inside are the pair of reading glasses he under most circumstances would rather endure a crippling migraine or painful death than wear for even a second. 

Which is kinda dumb. They aren't ugly. The salesperson at the store was actually painstakingly thorough in making sure they found ones that framed and accentuated his face. But still. Glasses weren't cool. Never have been cool and never will be. At least that's what his brain and peers have reinforced for decades. He'd get contacts, if he didn't have such a phobia of touching his eye. It was a shit combination of bad genes and outcomes that results in him having to put the stupid things on just to enjoy his and Hank's favorite book. 

He's got them balanced on his nose and is fully engrossed in the beginnings of the rising action when Hank and Connor return to the bedroom. 

He wouldn't have noticed them, if Hank hadn't chuckled, breaking his concentration and causing him to yank them off his face. 

"Those are cute, when did you get those?" Hank asks, slipping under the covers and moving deeper into the bed to make himself comfortable. 

Gavin's cheeks are burning in his embarrassment. His secret was found out. But Hank didn't actually care and wasn't really making fun of him. That was the nasty version of Hank his demons constructed and played when he was feeling low. That wasn't reality. It helped ease the sting a little. 

Gavin still hasn't looked at Connor, but when he does, the man is staring right back. His mouth is open a little, looking over Gavin's face intimately before he lets out the breath he has been holding. 

"Put them back on."

Gavin, surprised, raised a challenging eyebrow. Connor wasn't being rude or bossy, more direct and desperate. Gavin's eyes fell to the android's crotch which he just now noticed wasn't covered at all and was very interested in something. 

Gavin puts the glasses back, grinning when it gives him the ability to see every single one of Connors' facilities shut down as he moves closer. 

"Keep them on," he orders now, hot and teasing as he's made himself comfortable on Gavin's lap. 

Hank chuckles again, turning in the bed happy to watch this particular scene unfold. Hell, so was Gavin. 

As the robots lips found his and his hand pulled tight in Gavin’s hair, Gavin couldn't help but think, maybe the glasses weren't so bad after all….

Send me more Gavin HCs and I'll see what I can whip up! I post new chapter to my WIPs every Sunday! and if you want more of these boys I have a jumbo fic called The Eden Club with lots of complicated emotions, love, and of course smut!

#max answers #tumblr prompts #dbh gavin reed #dbh gavin #hankconvin #the eden club #find me on ao3 #sunwarmed ash #links in bio #detroit become human #hankvin #convin #hank x connor x gavin #hank x gavin #hank x connor #gavin x connor x hank #gavin reed #gavin dbh #gavin x hank #gavin x connor

[secondjulia]

The Weight of Sand

Rated: G | Warnings: None | Ao3 link

He’d lost it! The pouch of sand was gone.

They were going to kill him! Neil was going to kill him!

A small, lucid part of Tom’s sleeping brain knew that the pouch of sand was not exactly the most expensive or valuable prop he’d ever worked with. It’s not like he'd stolen the elaborate battle robes he'd worn in Hell. Or Destiny’s book, which probably took ages to assemble, each of its carefully worn pages stitched together by hand and filled with the secrets of the universe, even though they were very unlikely to appear on screen. The pouch of sand was simple leather. The props wizards could probably sew up a new one in an afternoon.

But he had lost it!

Tom had been taking such good care of it — not because it was a valuable, delicate prop, but because it was Morpheus’ sand! Of everything he'd touched and held over these last months, all the dark fabrics that had weighed against his skin, his tools, even the ravens, everything that had turned him into the King of Dreams, this was his essence. This was Morpheus. It would be instantly recognizable to the fans. One of those small, iconic identifiers, so important for them to get right. The fans would never forgive him if it disappeared under his care.

And — the slice of Tom's lucid mind rolled its eyes — it felt important for Lord Morpheus, too. It is a part of me. 

Tom had now spent two years looking for the King of Dreams, but night after night, he woke disappointed. In his darker moments, in the longest, most exhausting days on set when take after take had gone wrong, Tom wondered if this absence was a bad sign. A sign that he had not truly been accepted as the embodiment of the Prince of Stories on Netflix. That he was inadequate. A poor choice for the task, as judged by the collective unconscious itself. The thought had driven him to work harder than ever, to reject any sub-par work on his part, to rehearse, to reach out and support his fellow cast members so they could all make the best possible adaptation of the best story, to try and try and try again. And, always, every night, to search for Dream.

But still, nothing. The absolute least he could do was find this fucking pouch of sand!

Even a couple of years into working on Sandman, Tom’s lucid dreaming skills hadn’t exactly taken off the way he’d wanted. So, while a small part of his brain knew he was being foolish, (the pouch of sand was still tucked safely into his bookcase on top of his Sandman box set — in the waking world), most of him was panicking. There was a lump in his throat, and his hands were shaking. Tears began to itch at his eyes. 

He tore apart the cupboards in his bathroom, which was actually the bathroom in his middle school that somehow had all his grown up stuff in it. (All his stuff except the sand!) When the cupboards were empty and he’d ripped back the shower curtain, looked into the soap dish on the wall, checked behind his shampoo, and lifted up the lid of the toilet tank, Tom stormed out of the bathroom and onto the rolling meadows of Fiddler’s Green — a place he had frequently found ever since he’d seen it rendered gorgeously in episode ten. It was usually a comforting place.

Not tonight.

Tears were now burning his cheeks. Tom sniffed.

“It is a heavy task,” a deep, quiet voice behind him said. A voice he recognized instantly.

Tom didn’t even turn around. He looked at his feet. “Where have you been?” 

He felt rude, but in a way that his sleeping self couldn’t seem to control. The air that stirred suddenly around him dried the tear tracks on his cheeks, but he still felt lost. As the tall shadow fell over him and he sensed the heavy presence close over his right shoulder, Tom felt like a child demanding answers from a parent who said they’d only be gone for a sec but had then disappeared for hours.

“I have many responsibilities,” Lord Morpheus said.

Tom turned and faced him.

The King of Dreams was taller than he was. His hair was wild, his eyes black with the infinite depths of the universe. Stars glinted deep within. Looking into this vast space struck Tom with vertigo, and he looked down quickly. But that was no better — flames licked at the edges of the Dream King’s long black cloak as if he had stepped out of the fiery core of the universe, the red hot engine of creation, and was dragging some of it with him.  

Tom shivered.

“I lost my sand,” he said, because this seemed like the most important thing to confess in the moment and because he could not seem to lie, not even by omission, not here where his fears were laid bare, and not to an Endless force that looked into the very sparks of his being. “Your sand.”

Dream nodded. “It isn’t you.”

Tom looked up sullenly.  “I know that.”

Oh, did he know that!

As he looked into the eyes of the collective unconscious of humanity — and so much more — Tom felt like a tiny speck. He watch galaxies rotate and meteors shower on distant worlds and great depths of endless void extend forever, all contained within a paper pale face above cheekbones that made him look like a chubby cherub.

How could he have ever thought he could capture such a force in his own form? His arms wrapped around himself, clutching at the soft terrycloth of the black bathrobe he’d fallen asleep in. His shoulders hunched and he pulled the robe tight as if trying to burrow away, to hide himself from the one he'd spent years searching for. His mind flashed suddenly to cold glass where he’d lain naked, feeling entirely like a trapped creature, exposed and defenseless. Here in the presence of the Lord Shaper, Prince of Stories, King of Dreams and the Nightmare Realms, Lord Morpheus, Dream of the Endless, Tom felt like he’d been stripped of all his pretense and hurled down, alone, powerless, and exposed.

Dream watched him for a long moment. “It is not you,” he said again. “But you have taken on a great responsibility. I wonder if you know how great, how important a task you have undertaken. To be the Prince of Stories, even a pale reflection in the waking world.”

“I know!” Tom said, and now he looked eagerly into those dizzying eyes and felt all traces of sullenness vanish. “I love Sandman! I know how important it is to everyone!”

“Perhaps.”

“I do!” he persisted. “I’ve read it all. Do you know how long casting takes? Well, this one took ages! I’ve had time to study. I know this material.” 

The Dream King smiled. “You are dedicated to your work.”

Tom tried to put on his most serious face to cover the giddy smile that was trying to creep onto his lips. Dream’s praise, spoken in a lulling voice that he could not possibly resist, filled him with warm glee. “I am,” he said. “I wanted to get it right.”

“That has always been important to you,” Dream said. He began to walk, clutching his spectacular robes to his thin body as if he were cold.

“This is especially important,” Tom said, walking with the King of Dreams.

"It is. And I must thank you for taking on the responsibility. "

"So did you…" Tom trailed off, feeling like he was peaking back stage to see a magician's trick set up. It seemed rude, but the question poured out anyway. "Did you give the story to Neil? Was that his responsibility? To help you bring your story into the real—I mean, the waking world to begin with?"

"All stories are highly collaborative. They are the work of lives and worlds before they are the work of words."

It wasn't really an answer, and Tom felt a bit of the sullenness creeping back up. He of all people should've known better than to expect a simple answer from Dream. 

"But is really your story," he pressed.

A harsh rumbling sound shivered in the air around him. Dream's laugh was a sad, broken thing. "I am Prince of Stories but I have no story of my own. Nor shall I ever. Not even this one."

“That's not true!" Tom protested. "Everybody knows your story! We're very popular, and we’re getting another season!” 

“I congratulate you," Dream said. "You did well at what you set out to achieve.”

“Do you know how many shows Netflix has cancelled? How many good shows Netflix has cancelled? We did really well! We had to have done.”

“Perhaps." 

"So… so everyone knows your story," he ended helplessly. For some reason, he felt responsible for this ancient eldritch being. Though he was tall and scary here in the Dreaming and spoke with the gravitas of universes, something about Dream made Tom want to bundle him up on the couch and bring him a cup of tea. 

They walked for what seemed like weeks on the soft grass of Fiddler’s Green.

"What you  have wrought with your labor is far more than a story about me,” Dream said.

"Yeah," said Tom. "It's a story about stories."

“Even those which you say are mine are not me. They are the world’s articulation of me. A dream shared among many. It is an important thing.”

“Yeah, I know. A thousand dreamers with the same dream can change the world.”

“But you do not need to rewrite the history of the universe to affect it," Dream said. "Your work is more important than a story about any being. I am only one part of the Dreaming — the part that can speak to you, that can think and put the realm in order. Dreams are much more. The sand is much more. It is the heaviest of my tools, and the story is even greater, a living connection within the universe. Everything else is a tool for telling it.”

Tom lowered his eyes again. He had lost one of his most important things. “I'm sorry I lost the sand.”

They passed a cottage that might have been the one his parents had taken him to as a child on summer holiday, except this one was overgrown and deeply shaded by dense forest. Then on his right there was the stage where he had first performed; shadows lapped at the edges and reached out dark tongues to ensnare him, and a thousand disarticulated eyeballs watched from the darkness. Tom shivered, and they walked on. They passed a supermarket and his high school and the scarlet set of Desire's threshold.

"You are also more than your tools," Dream said. "You must take care not to lose too much of yourself in them. Or to your labors."

Tom nodded. He wasn't sure he could do that. He wasn't even sure Dream could do that. Tom had, after all, read the entire series. Multiple times.

"The story that you tell is far more than yours," Dream said. "But you are the life and the world that precedes the story. The raw material before it is poured into the mould. You must care for yourself and your own dreams in order to do your work."

"I will try," Tom said. "I promise."

"I have tried to do my part, though you have not seen it. Much of the Dreaming flows beneath the surface."

"I… I think I could feel you there," Tom admitted. "Thank you."

"Hold out your hand," Dream said. 

Tom obeyed. 

Dream withdrew a pouch of sand, twin to the lost one. He took a small handful and let the grains fall over Tom’s palm. And though it looked like little more than weightless twinkles of light, the sand felt heavy in his hand. 

Tom's head swam, and he blinked hard. But the glittering sand and the figure beside him were both fading. And then his eyes shut all the way. Even in the darkness, he could feel the weight of sand falling against his skin.

When Tom woke, his eyes immediately went to the black pouch on top of his box set nestled safely in his bookcase. He breathed a sigh of relief. 

He was a bit annoyed by the sand in between his sheets, though. Had he spilled it? Oh, somebodywas going to be angry with him!

Or… maybe not, Tom thought as he got out of bed and grabbed the pouch just to make sure it was real. Maybe it was all going to be fine. It wasn't, after all, really about the sand. It was about the story.

#tom tuesday #tom sturridge #dream of the endless #the sandman #fanfic #my fanfic

[himbos-hotline]

Prompt: things learned in a nearly empty diner

There's always some reason [To feel not good enough]

Word count: 1,418 words Ship: Kenny Omega/ "Hangman" Adam Page Characters: Kenny Omega, "Hangman" Adam Triggers: None that I can instantly think of. Authors note: I thought I'd write an angsty little hangman and Kenny fic looking into just how their fued screwed them both up. Hangman learns that he'll never be home while Kenny learns that his touch still hurts. I wasn't sure how to title this fic if im being honest.

Read on ao3

Adam is sitting in a diner in the middle of Virginia and it should taste like home. It should feel like home but the anxiety buzzing in the air makes the building feel foreign. The coffee tastes different on his tongue, almost like the milk is turning sour as it washes past his teeth. It makes his stomach churn, twisting the half eaten pastry into a mushy lump that sits in the curve of his throat, it makes him cough into a napkin wincing as the rough paper rubs against a wound, turning the burning skin around it a soft pink mess. He dabs with the corner of the napkin, breathing a small sigh of relief when he sees nothing but spit-stained white. 

He doesn't know why he’s waiting. Kenny said he’d be here an hour ago, Adam double-checks his texts and triple checks that he has the right day, squinting down at his phone as if he’s interrogating it. Maybe he’s got the wrong time or maybe Kenny had simply woke up and forgot that Adam exists. It wouldn’t be the first time that Kenny had spotted Adam’s name flashing on his phone screen and chose to flip it over so Adam could ramble away to a robotic voice and find it strangely ironic that someone finally apologizes for Kenny. He looks through his phone, mostly doing it to keep his hands busy. Adam can feel anxiety growing up his spine like moss growing up a gravestone. 

The small bell tinkles above the diner’s door and almost like smelling a growing storm in the air, Adam’s eyes flick up from the screen and stare. Kenny stands in the doorway for a few seconds, scanning the mostly empty tables for Adam from behind tinted sunglasses.

The two of them make eye contact, quick and half-timid, before Kenny breaks it by wandering in and staring at the menu. His curls bounce when he walks and Adam hates the memory of how they feel rising under his fingertips. He makes a fist, grips at the coffee mug hard enough that he can almost imagine it cracking between his palms and how Kenny would worry seeing the soft-wood table being stained red. He watches Kenny’s lips move as he orders, they’re stained a soft pink and Adam washes away the memory of how they taste with a large gulp of coffee. 

His lips aren’t pink and they’re not memorable. They don’t taste of strawberries and cinnamon when someone leans in to kiss him and they don’t puff up in that perfect way when someone bites at his bottom lip, mouth dripping with lust. Adam is nothing like Kenny, Kenny is heaven and Adam is a lonesome man praying to a false God. 

Adam sighs into his coffee mug and rubs invisible crumbs off his lap as he listens to the mostly empty diner exist around him; there’s a couple talking behind him and Adam feels almost envious of the way the wives eyes gleam as she fiddles with a ring, A man leans over to share split-off bits of sandwich with his tongue son and Adam smiles at how the toddler grins around squashed bacon and sourdough. 

He meets the child's soft glare with a smile and an open-handed wave. Grinning when he waves back, large and open handed. He chuckles and ducks his head bashfully as the father smiles and ruffles his son's red hair. Adam nods back, a silent conversation between two strangers brought together by a child’s overwhelming innocence of the world. 

“You were always so good with kids.” Kenny sounds closer than what Adam anticipated, rocking back into his chair as his head whips back to facing front. Kenny’s standing with a travel mug in one hand, the other wrapped around the back of the chair as if he’s going to grab it and drag it somewhere else, away from Adam. He’s blinking down at Adam through the sunglasses and the small twirls of black hair falling over the corner of his eyes. Adam thinks he looks good, even in a disgustingly magenta shirt and eggshell blue suit. The jacket flatters his frame and Adam physically drags his eyes away, back to the child who's staring between the two of them with round, curious eyes. 

“Thanks..you uh..” Adam chokes on his own words in his brain, pushing his lips together as he flails his hand at the empty chair. Kenny nods and sits down but he doesn’t place his mug down. He leans his elbows against the edge of the table and cocks his head slightly. “You’re late.” 

“Traffic.” He replies simply, voice muffled by the trickle of coffee down his throat. Adam watches him swallow, hands itching to wrap around the collar of Kenny’s somewhat open shirt and drag him into a kiss across the table. He watches Kenny's adam's-apple bob steadily as he swallows and picks at his half-eaten pastry. “You wanted to talk to me?” 

Adam nods, pressing his chin to his chest just so he can crack his neck, it doesn’t work and a dull pain starts to well up just below the muscles. “Yeah..I wanted to check on you..after the surgery. Are you hungry I can..here.” He pushes the plate towards Kenny and it feels like a peace offering. Kenny stares down at the plate for a few moments; eyes narrowing slightly as he rips the pastry in half, placing half on a napkin and nudges it back across the small table. “Thank you..” He smiles and Kenny makes a small sound of confirmation. 

The silence is uncomfortable; prickling around the two of them like a frost encroaching on a garden. Adam twists and picks at the napkin between his fingers while Kenny stares out the back window, watching the rising sun over the Virginia horizon. Adam feels pressure building up inside him and suddenly the only thing in his mind is Kenny. His heartbeat is singing his name and his nose is making Kenny’s dollar-store body wash the only thing he can smell. He can almost taste it on his lips, he opens his mouth, lets his tongue dart across his bottom lip and…

“I’m going home.” Kenny beats him to the punch, shattering the silence and any script that Adam had clearly planned in his brain. His mouth opens and closes for a few moments, before a waitress comes up and stares at the both of them with a questioning eye. She refills Adam’s empty mug and Kenny follows her with his eyes until she disappears back behind the counter before he stares back at Adam.

“Home?” Adam mumbles, knocking the mug of coffee between his fingers. He watches the ring stain the light wood and Adam stares into the bright brown ring, using his finger to smudge it into his skin. “Where’s home?” 

Kenny stares at his hand, watching Adam fiddle with the coffee ring, tracing it around and around with his thumb. A stupid anxious tell that Kenny has always fallen in love with, he settles his hand over Adam’s fingers and almost like he burns him, Adam pulls his hand away. The two of them stare at one another, Kenny’s lips twitching slightly as Adam cradles his hand into his shirt. 

“I uh..” Kenny starts, his voice quiet under the slowly filling diner but in adam;s ears it's the loudest thing in the room. He tried to hold his hand again. Kenny’s fingertips had brushed across the top of his hand and it had hurt. Kenny’s touch only hurts him now and Adam wishes he knew why. “Japan..” 

“Kota.” Adam retorts, dropping his hands into his lap. “You’re going back to Kota.” He understands. An angel always has to return to heaven; the clouds call for their return in rainfall and Adam understands. He really does. Kenny will always go home. He’ll always return to his constant lover, the one who makes him golden. Kota’s arms will wrap around Kenny’s middle and with a brush of his lips, he’ll buff away the wounds and dents that Adam left behind. 

“I think you should go..” Adam says after a few beats of awkward silence. Kenny doesn’t argue with him, he simply nods and stands with a sigh. Adam tries not to watch him leave, staring down at the table as Kenny’s footsteps slowly fade away. 

Adam sits in the middle of a half-full diner, wondering if anything will ever feel like home again. 

taglist: @allelitesmut @homoeroticgrappling @dustinslovehandles @paradoxunknown @katries @mrsmatt @echoxshxrx @malewifemoxley @kass-the-kitten @itsnoosetome @racerchix21 @jacedoe @chuckstaylors @old-no7 @thekadster @mandiableclaw @tahiri-veyla

#kenny omega #hangman adam page #hangmega #curly boyfriends #mouse writes