Tumgik
#simply the screen touch doesn't work
heavenknowsffs · 6 months
Text
my phone gets drunk at least once a month (gets drenched in beer by accident and stops working for 1 to 2 days) which is incresibly inconvenient but also nice because i can disconnect from social media for a whole ass day!
7 notes · View notes
star-sim · 4 months
Text
hello kitty meets batman (real not clickbait!) ☆ jake sim
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
☆ 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
Tumblr media
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.
Tumblr media
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.
Tumblr media
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.
Tumblr media
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.”
Tumblr media
2K notes · View notes
prettybean · 6 months
Text
THEY’RE PERVERTS (COD +18)
* just for fun 🤐 don’t take it too seriously
ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE
Tumblr media
Ghost
He doesn't even realize how his eyes wander over your chest every time you stand in front of him. He tries his best to keep his focus on your face, but as soon as you start talking, his gaze involuntarily shifts downwards. He fantasized about your breasts countless times: he'd help you aim the rifle, standing closely behind you, just to secretly admire how they press against the weapon.
After practice, he would rush to his room, desperate to relieve the ache in his groin, picturing his cock between your breasts.
Soap
He felt like a creep: every time you went to take a shower, he would sneak into your room and crack open the bathroom door. Your naked body was too tempting for him, so he would pleasure himself discreetly until you finished and got dressed. Obviously, you caught on. This guy couldn't keep his mouth shut and you heard him moaning outside your door multiple times.
The next time you bumped into him, you couldn't resist teasing him. "Hey John, feel free to jerk off in my bathroom next time too."
Price
He adores it when you dress up in seductive attire for him, and you enjoy the power you have to arouse him simply by revealing your skin slowly. Whenever you're away from home, he eagerly rummages through your drawer, caressing the delicate fabric in his hands before using it to pleasure himself. He longs for you intensely, and the scent of you drives him wild. He vigorously rubs your panties against his throbbing length until they become stained with his release.
You've noticed on multiple occasions that your underwear has gone missing, and you're well aware of your boyfriend's kinky side. Despite this, you choose to ignore it.
Gaz
His gallery is full of nudes of you. Every time you two have sex, Kyle feels compelled to capture the moment, whether it's him fucking you or just you in a revealing pose. He spends his days admiring the pictures, proudly sharing them with his friends, as if they were a work of art (with your permission, of course). The sight of your dripping pussy on his phone screen brings a smile to his face, making his day. He leans in and whispers in your ear, "Darling, let me take another pic, I'll do whatever you want”.
Alejandro
Alejandro has a strong attraction to your legs. The sight of them in your uniform makes him feel aroused. He frequently requests you to wear high stockings, and you happily oblige. As the stockings cling to your thick thighs, Alejandro becomes more and more infatuated with their smoothness.
He lovingly touches and kisses them, gently caressing, nibbling, and even licking them. "Mi amor, I need your thighs around my fucking cock".
Graves
He takes pleasure in humiliating you. He's so twisted that he may publicly lift your skirt, revealing your underwear to everyone on his team. Your flushed face becomes his source of satisfaction. Even when you're walking alone with Philip, he wouldn't hesitate to tug your neckline down, exposing your breasts.
Many times, he deserves a firm slap from you, but your love for him is too strong. He'd even have the audacity to say, "Damn, next time, don't even bother wearing panties."
König
He couldn't resist letting you know how much you turned him on. Every time you bent down to tie your shoe or pick something up, he positioned himself behind you, pressing his hard erection against you. Even when you were cooking, he couldn't resist rubbing his cock against your ass. You loved hearing how excited he got, so much so that sometimes you purposely put yourself in ambiguous positions for him.
"König, my phone is under the bed," you say, bending down to retrieve it. Without hesitation, he gets behind you and thrusts his hips against your slit. "Search better, Schatz," he says with a mischievous grin.
Keegan
He couldn't help but find your tears beautiful. It stirred something inside him. You were a sensitive soul, crying at the slightest provocation - whether it was pain, anger or even joy. Keegan always tried to be there for you when you were upset, offering comfort and wiping away your tears. But every time he saw you cry, he couldn't help but feel a certain arousal. He tried to hide it, but you noticed the bulge in his pants.
“Sorry baby, sometimes it happens”, but you didn't mind. In fact, you found it exciting. When he fucked you, your tears only made it better. And he responded by pounding you harder and harder, as if he couldn't get enough.
1K notes · View notes
pretty-toru · 1 year
Text
lovesick┆gojo satoru
୧ genre: fluff
୧ wc: 1.4k
୧ synopsis: megumi is sick with a common cold, and gojo is simply lovesick for you.
Tumblr media
Gojo Satoru convinces himself that he's not jealous.
How could he feel such a prickling and burning sensation in his lower tummy, slowly rising towards his heart making his blood boil and face grow hot just because you're nursing eleven-year-old Megumi back to health? The same little rascal that he had previously gotten into a spat with over something stupid and it doesn't help that the brat's sticking his tongue out and pulling down his lower eyelid taunting him.
But of course, you're too busy doting over sweet and innocent Megumi to notice. Too preoccupied with fluffing the pillows for the young boy to rest his poor head on, gently tucking him in with a cozy throw blanket, putting something on the platinum screen with the promise of brewing him a ginger-honey tea to make him feel better.
No matter how much Gojo tries to ignore Megumi, his facial muscles twitch and contort on their own in utter dismay and his Six Eyes zeroes in on the couch-ridden boy with his lips curling into a deep frown before sticking his tongue back at him.
"Come on, Satoru. Be nice to him, he's really sick." You say as you start the kettle and reach for a mug from the cabinet. Gojo's forced to acknowledge that Megumi wasn't faking the snotty nose and loud sneezes, but he still doesn't like the idea of losing to one smug child and giving him the satisfaction that he's secured his revenge which is your devoted attention. Maybe Megumi knew that his guardian would go a wee-bit insane being treated as a second thought but Gojo will never admit that it's working.
"Hey honey, you know what? I don't feel so good either. Here, feel my forehead." Gojo takes your hand and places it over his forehead to check if it's warm to the touch and he makes sure to do his best impression of looking pathetically sick—droopy eyelids, jutting his lower lip into a pout, and slumped shoulders to get your sympathy.
"Satoru, you feel perfectly fine. There's nothing wrong with you."
"I swear I'm not feeling well. My throat feels weird and scratchy, my body feels flashes of hot and cold, my head is pounding and it's killing me, and.." Gojo tries to convince you that he's experiencing every symptom he could think of and you knew he was determined to be sick. Between your "uh-huh" and "right" you decide to humor him as you follow his explanation and tried your hardest to hold back a smile when he throws in an exaggerated detail or two.
"Alright, you big baby. We can't have you feeling sick now, can we? Can't have the strongest sorcerer out of commission for long, hm?"
"Nope, that'd be very bad. As long as you drop everything and pour all your attention on me, I should get better in no time. No pressure or anything, but the world does kinda depend on it~" Gojo flashes you a toothy grin then quickly remembers that he's supposed to be sick and feigns a cough or two averting your knowing glance.
"Hmm, okay I'll see what I can do. Now come here, let's get you all nice and comfortable so you can get your much-needed rest and get well again." You lead him to your shared bedroom and reflect the covers back for him to climb onto the mattress and ensure he's warm and cozy as you pull the comforter over him. For someone who's supposed to feel horribly ill Gojo sure can't seem to wipe the smile off his face. "You seem a little too happy to be sick, don't you think?"
"Just glad that you'll be the one to help me get back my strength is all." Through his fluttering lashes, he sports the most innocent and angelic expression he can muster and you can't help the soft giggle given his stellar performance up until this point.
"Alright, if you say so. I'll get you something to eat, okay? I'll be right back."
As you're turning on your heel to head for the door, Gojo pouts and protests. "Wha- No sweet kiss to hold me over? You might be a while and I'll get lonely since you're not here to keep me company."
"Aw, sorry baby. But you know there's no kissing until you're all better. Can't get myself sick now that I have to look after you and Megumi, right? I promise you I won't be long."
"...Not even a forehead kiss? :(" He murmurs under his breath as he watches your back to him and eventually disappears into another room. Once Gojo's left to his own devices, he wonders how long it would take you to complete your task on hand. He fiddles with his thumbs and counts the passing minutes. One minute becomes five, five becomes ten, then ten becomes twenty and he suddenly cannot bear to be apart from you much longer and checks on you.
"Sweetheart, what's taking you so long? I thoug-" And there he stumbles across the answer to his own question. Megumi is being spoon-fed rice porridge by you because he claims that his arms are too weak to do it himself and you couldn't leave him starved in his condition. Gojo appears crestfallen and disgruntled in the throw blanket draped over his lanky body and with a small huff he grumbles, "So that's what you've been up to. Fine, fine I guess it's up to me to take care of myself, huh?"
"What's wrong with him? Is he sick too or something?" Megumi asks nonchalantly as he watches his mentor's dejected form return to his bedroom to sulk. You gently shake your head and offer the young boy a soft smile, but you do feel a little bad that your husband has been acting unusual lately hence his needy and clingy tendencies.
"He's just going through a phase, but don't you worry about him and focus on getting better, okay? I'll find a way to make it up to him."
Tumblr media
When you enter your shared bedroom with a platter of breakfast in your grasp, you found Gojo hiding under the covers in an attempt of giving you his silent treatment. You place the serving tray of food on the nightstand and situate yourself on the bed beside him, smoothing your hand over his covered shoulder as he's laid on his side with his face away from you. "Satoru, my love, I've brought you breakfast."
With a soft shrug of his shoulder, he responds with a strained hum but you know it's just him being melodramatic because he could never truly be mad at you. "Do you wanna tell me what's on your mind? I'm all yours if you come on out from under the covers."
Gojo shifts his body weight around and tufts of white hair start to peek as he gradually pulls the blanket down until you meet his azure gaze and he receives your sweet smile. "Hey there, is everything alright? Did I do something to upset you?" The tender warmth of your hand finds its home on his cheek with a gentle caress and he sighs contently at the familiar touch. You're patient as you wait for him to gather his thoughts, your fingers moving to his soft tendrils in soothing motions and he inches closer to you.
"You've never done a single thing wrong ever. You are perfect," he begins slowly. "I just missed you and ever since I got back from my mission you were too busy with the kids (Megumi and Tsumiki) that we haven't had any time together and I just wanna be with you." Gojo confesses as he's playing with the hem of your shirt, feeling a bit vulnerable to look you straight in the eyes. "Oh, and another thing... I'm not actually sick I only said that so you'd notice me more."
"Thanks for being honest with me. And I knew that you weren't sick. For someone who's supposed to be good at anything he tries, I'm glad that you turned out to be a pretty bad liar."
Gojo's face heats up at that and he unceremoniously buries his face in your lap from embarrassment, as muffled words of "Oh, so you knew. I thought I was pretty convincing" managed to reach your ears.
"Tell you what, how about we have ourselves a nice picnic this weekend? Just the two of us, I'll find someone to watch the kids. And I think maybe spending an afternoon in the sunshine will do us some good. What do you think?"
Gojo suddenly lights up at your proposal. "I think you're wonderful for planning the perfect date."
"You're sweet for giving me so much credit." Your soft laughter quickly melts his heart and he returns your affections, feeling a little more in love with you as you're both sharing a moment together. "I love you."
"I love you so much more, my sweet angel."
3K notes · View notes
meownotgood · 8 months
Text
WEEK ONE — masturbation + aki hayakawa, 18+, gn!reader, jerking off, pillow humping, sexual fantasies, edging, a hint of degradation, aki just can't help his feelings for you
kinktober masterlist
Tumblr media
Everyone knows Aki has a crush on you. 
It's as obvious as it could possibly be. He's always staring, always coming up with any excuse he can to slip away from work for a while and come talk to you. He leaves frequent gifts on your work desk: notes in his handwriting, flowers or snacks or souvenirs he got for you from Hokkaido. 
He's unusually awkward when your name gets brought up in conversation, he's jittery whenever you're around — The last time you tagged along on the division's monthly drinking night, Aki was practically a mess, choosing to drown himself in as much alcohol as he had the pocket change to order, simply to keep from losing it because you'd sat next to him. Of course you had to sit right next to him. 
You've kept him infatuated for forever now. The thing is, Aki doesn't care if he's obvious. You're so pretty, he thinks. He's thought so from the very beginning. You're pretty and interesting and smart and it isn't his fault; he really can't control how his heart flutters and his head goes dizzy every time you talk to him, it just happens. You just have that effect on him. 
He can't help but feel shy every time you call his name in that sweet voice of yours; so polite, sticking to Hayakawa-sir even though he's told you before that you can use his first name. You grin every time, and you explain, But you get embarrassed when I call you Hayakawa. He can't help it when his face turns red all the way to the tips of his ears because you're teasing him, giving him a hard time for how stuttery he's getting. 
You were particularly teasing today. Aki knew you must've been in a good mood from the moment he arrived at headquarters. You held him by his arm, you cooed praises into his ear for how hard he's been working lately. Told him if he ever needed a break, he could come to your office any time he wants to and you'd give him a massage or make him some coffee. You insist. 
Maybe that's why he can't sleep right now. 
He's tried to get some sleep this time, he seriously has. He hates when he's like this. When he finds he's unable to stop thinking about you, he'll try everything he can to wind down and make himself forget. He'll go for a run to try and get his energy out, take an ice cold shower, smoke until his lungs are burning to attempt to quell the noise in his mind, and yet tonight, none of that has worked. 
Nothing can chase away those thoughts of you, those memories of your pretty face and your teasing hands. Nothing convinces his heart to stop pounding within his chest. Aki tosses, turns. His sheets rustle and his mattress shifts underneath his weight. 
It's a real conundrum. He's felt hot all over ever since he climbed into bed. His face is warm, he's practically sweating. Turning again, he takes a quick glance at his alarm clock, the screen reads 11:54 which is several hours since he first attempted to sleep and a few minutes since he last checked it. 
You were touching him so much today. So much, more than he's used to, even for you. No-one else ever touches him like that, nobody ever hugs him, holds his hand, makes him feel wanted. He wonders if you know how worked up you get him, if you can tell his heart is racing, or know the reason why he's shifting is because his slacks are getting tight. 
11:56, now. Aki's head is spinning. 
This is stupid, wrong of him, even. He's not super close to you. You're just one of the Public Safety office workers. If he wants to be technical, he could be considered your superior, actually. A superior fantasizing about one of the little devil hunter assistants. He's terrible. 
Aki can't help but yearn to feel your touch elsewhere, everywhere. He needs it, needs you, warmth buds in his core and there's a steady ache between his legs. He was short on breath before, when you'd grabbed his arm and pressed real close, and even now, just from thinking about it, he's — 
Fuck. Aki twists, rolling from his side onto his back, he rubs his knotted up temple with his finger and his thumb. It's too much. You're going to be the death of him. 
His breath comes out heavy and shaking and loud in his ears. His chest rises up and down, his trembling fingers slip under the blanket, then underneath the waistband of his sweats, and his heart begins to pound faster in anticipation, hammering against his ribs.
He hesitates for a second. In the end, he gives in like he always does. Shame pools thick in the pit of his stomach, but it isn't enough to stop him from working his hand down — His palm brushes the soft fabric of his briefs, he gropes the shape of his cock through his boxers and he's already stiff. He sighs, he lets his head toss back. 
You'll forgive him for this, right? You'd forgive him for getting hard when all you did was barely touch him, and for using thoughts of you to get himself off, wouldn't you? He's just so lonely, so stressed out, that's all this is. You have to forgive him, you have to understand. Aki swiftly decides you would, because he can't wait any longer; he's been needy like this for hours upon hours now and at this point, it's far too late for him to stop. 
Aki pushes the blanket away, he tugs his sweats and his briefs down to his thighs at the same time, he hisses when his cock comes free. Slowly, he wraps his palm around, and he brings his thumb to the head, rubs it slow, feels himself throb steadily in his hand. 
He's already dripping, precum beads in droplets at his slit and dribbles down to dirty his knuckles, each of his fingers. There's wetness sticking to his palm. A disgusting sound echoes as he pumps himself, up and down nice and careful, his bottom lip drawn between his teeth. 
It feels so fucking good. Aki groans in pleasure, immediately forgets how perverted this is, he closes his eyes, thinks of you. He isn't the type to do this, he's never felt this way about anyone, he doesn't even touch himself because he's never had a reason to — but you've changed everything. 
You're the reason for this, and when he's got his cock in his fist, you're all he can think about. He imagines your touch, your voice, your warm breath on his skin. Aki tries to picture how it'd feel to kiss you, to press his lips on yours and have your tongue in his mouth. How it'd feel to hold you, to have you be the one to jerk him off. 
Your hands are so perfect; Aki's memorized the way they look, the way they fold when you're writing or grabbing his arm or holding your drink. They're dainty compared to his, they'd probably feel softer, so much gentler. Ever since a few weeks ago, he's fallen into the habit of using his left hand to touch himself as opposed to his right. It's clumsier this way, but it's easier to imagine his hand is someone else's, yours. 
Your soft hand around his dick, stroking him just like this — Aki doesn't know if he'd be able to last. If he'd even be able to look at you, let alone talk, let alone do anything but plead your name.
Your fingers are so pretty, you'd complimented him once, Aki remembers how you sat next to him and intently watched him sign paperwork like it was the most interesting thing in the world. He'd shaken his head and written you off then, but he wants to know if you'd compliment him again, if you'd still think so when his fingers are cradling your face or pushing past your lips. 
Would you still think he's as pretty — his fingers wrapped around his cock, his hair down and how you like it, his earrings you say you like so much glinting in the low light — if you saw him like this? 
He wonders if you'd tease him the same as you do at the office. Oh, Mister Hayakawa, you've been wanting this for so long, haven't you? You're so fucking dirty. How long have you been jerking yourself off every night to the thought of me? So damn needy, you just want me to take care of you, huh? 
Yeah, he's dirty, he's rocking his hips into his grip, he's whining and sighing soft gasps of pleasure, louder than he probably should be. He's pumping his fist faster as he pictures your face down between his legs; you'd look precious with your hair tucked back, your lips would feel as plush as he'd imagined and you'd stare up at him with such an innocent expression, your eyes practically sparkling as you take his cock in your mouth. 
He can't take it. Aki pants with weight behind every breath, he twists his wrist and squeezes, pumps even faster and thinks he just might lose his mind right here — and then, he takes his hand away. 
He lets go, his dick falls against his stomach and he keeps one hand in his hair and the other beside him, despite how badly his nerves are screaming for him to keep touching. He allows his breath to even out, stares at the ceiling and waits for his mind to clear.
He doesn't want to cum yet. Not when it's only been a few minutes. If he cums now, he'll probably get too exhausted to cum a second time. So he can't, not right now, not when he has more he wants to think about. 
Twisting over on his side, Aki brushes his bangs away when they fall messily around his face. He presses his palm to his forehead, feeling the sweat trickling from his skin. His fingers twitch. He debates what he's about to do for a few seconds.
He shouldn't, it'll be a hassle. But when he knows how good it's going to feel, he can't resist. Hurrying, he lifts his head and grabs his pillow from underneath, he adjusts, burying his face in the sheets when it starts to feel warmer. He situates himself on his stomach, pillow firm between his legs. 
Deep, slow rolls of his hips cause him to forget any of the sense he was still holding onto. He exhales hard, shakes even harder. Aki fists the sheets in a tight hand, he leans his head into his forearm, he grinds his aching cock against his pillow until his thighs are beginning to hurt.
If he was more confident, confident enough to tell you how he feels, maybe he wouldn't be in this mess. Maybe if you knew, you'd let him fold you over his bed and fuck you just like how he's been dreaming of, slowly and dizzyingly tender, enough to make him forget about everything else. Maybe. If he's good. God, does he even deserve it? 
Either way, it doesn't matter what he wants. He'll do whatever the hell you ask him to, whatever you'd be willing to give him he'd be happy with — He'd be content just fucking the space between your thighs, or having you talk to him while he gets himself off and humps his pillow like a pathetic idiot; anything you want, whatever you want. As long as you're there, as long as he can hear your voice and feel your touch, and not be so alone. 
The smooth cotton of his pillowcase is slick and wet with his precum. His cock is throbbing incessantly, pleasure spreads through his entire body and he doesn't care that his mattress is squeaking, that he's losing rhythm. He breathes heavy with every rut of his hips and imagines you're here, you're beneath him. 
Arms strung around him tight, you'd lock eyes with him and he wouldn't dare to look away. Feels so good, you're perfect, Aki, you'd praise, and he loves your praises, You wanna cum? Oh, but you can hold out for a little longer for me, can't you? 
Aki shivers. Of course. If you're the one asking him, he just has to. Especially when you call him Aki.
Aki, that's it, keep going. You're so sweet, so good for me. I belong to you. I'm all yours, forever and ever. Does that make you happy?
You're his, all his. You'd sound so perfect moaning his name as he bullies his cock into you. His first name, his and no-one else's, no extra politeness or honorifics. You'd say it softly as he slides inside, say it when you're begging him to fill you deeper, repeat it when you're telling him he's got to beg for you if he wants to finish. 
C'mon, Aki. Cum for me. Give me all of it. 
Yeah, Aki mumbles out loud to himself, his voice is breaking, he thrusts his hips with reckless abandon, I'll give you everything, oh, f-fuck, I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum… 
He shoves his face into the bed as much as he can manage to muffle his noise, his fragile moans and loud whimpers. His shoulders tense, muscles aching. A few more shallow movements and he's done; he chants your name over and over again as he finishes, cumming all over his pillow and his sheets, thick ropes of white dirtying the fabric, making a mess. 
Falling limp, Aki lays like that for a while, catching his breath. Everything begins to fade, working through to tiredness. He should get up and shower, wash his sheets and his pillowcase, but he's so exhausted he can't even manage to move. 
He feels warm all over again, just less intense this time. Aki realizes he was saying your name as he came. Embarrassing. He can only hope he wasn't loud enough for anyone to hear. 
He'll fall asleep now, at least, with warm thoughts of you to fill his head. A date with you would be nice sometime. Nothing too crazy. He'd take you anywhere you wanted to. He also wouldn't mind taking you back to his apartment and making you something for dinner, whatever you'd like. 
If you were here now, he'd hold you as close as he can get you, breathing soft and slow while drifting off silently, his arms wrapped secure around your waist.
He's almost asleep. But —
Ah. He'd forgotten he has to work at the office tomorrow. So he's going to have to face you, first thing in the morning. 
The next time he sees you, he doubts he'll be able to do much talking. But he'll get busier soon, there's a lot of devil hunting missions coming up. Who knows when Aki is going to see you next, so if he doesn't tell you his feelings soon, when will he? 
He's decided. Tomorrow, he's going to ask you out. 
Tumblr media
2K notes · View notes
luveline · 9 months
Note
hi! your stories are so captivating😍 Thank you so much for doing them!
If you feel inspired I would love to see a story of Spencer x badass reader where she physically defends him from an unsub and/or verbally from someone they are working with like a cop or something
tysm! ♡ 1k
Sweat drips into your eye. 
It follows a line down your cheek like a teardrop and hits your swat vest with a thud. Quiet has settled with the heat, a blanket encompassing everything, your one drop of sweat enough to give you away. The unsub stills at his computer screen, white light bouncing against his jaw. He looks up like he's looking for rain. 
He turns right first. He sees Spencer. 
"FBI," Spencer announces steadily. 
You point your weapon at his chest. "Put your hands up and stand against the wall." 
Cory doesn't look like he's going to surrender so easily. "You have three children upstairs," you say, though it's not true. The children sit outside in foil blankets, and with any luck they'll be taken somewhere safer before the arrest. "Three young children who love you. What do you want them to think of you now? Come peacefully." 
Cory's face rippled with rage quickly masked. He sits back from his computer and pauses. Then, slowly, he puts his hands against the wall. 
"Reid," Morgan instructs, at your left, his gun similarly trained. 
Spencer moves forward to handcuff him. It's not your normal routine but it isn't out of your jurisdiction, quieter arrests often mean you act as cops rather than full-fledged agents. "Cory Harrison, you are under arrest for the homicide of Tara Harrison. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say–" 
The handcuffs clink as they're whipped from Spencer's grasp, one cuff open, the other closed around Cory's wrist, the links brought unapologetic to the pale curve of Spencer's throat. 
Spencer grabs for his gun. Cory pulls the cuffs tight, forcing Spencer closer to his chest and choking the air from his throat. 
You reposition your aim. Another drop of sweat curves past your eyebrow. The basement humidity and your panic threaten to blind you. 
"Let him go," Morgan says sharply. 
"I'll shoot you if I have to." 
Cory scoffs at you. "And shoot through string bean?" 
You tense your finger against the trigger of your glock. "I have good aim," you say simply. 
You have no intention of firing. Cory has a standard issue pair of handcuffs to his discretion. He isn't big or muscled enough to kill Spencer bare-handed, not quickly, and he's on unsure footing. 
You step closer. Cory snarls. "Stay back. I'll kill him, you stupid bitch–" 
Men. Cory killed his defenceless wife with rohypnol and a rope and now he thinks he can win a fight against two agents trained extensively (admittedly one more than the other) in defence. He's lucky Spencer's in the way —you would've attempted to push his nose into his brain. As it stands, you hook your leg between his and Spencer's, your teammate more than aware of the manoeuvre you're about to pull. With one hand you pull the cuff links cruelly up against Spencer's neck but away, most importantly, allowing him the room to dive from Cory's grasp, and with the other you tuck your gun out of Cory's reach. His arms up, his stomach open, you pull your leg behind his knee and grate your foot down his calf.
He collapses to the floor. You stomp your foot into his groin. 
Morgan saves you the chore of cuffing him a second time. He reads the Miranda Rights by heart as you catch your breath, stepping back into Spencer's open hands. 
You relax at his touch. He's alright, he–
"Did I hurt you?" you ask, spinning on your heel. 
Spencer pouts at you, irked at being worried after. "Of course you didn't." 
"Your neck, I almost choked you like he was," you say, mindful of the agents and specialists flooding the room to secure the crime scene and any evidential material. 
Spencer lifts his chin. "Doesn't hurt." 
There's a rubbed red line up the column of his throat, but it could be worse. You finally wipe the sweat from your face, exhausted and ecstatic that you got the bad guy. 
"Come on," Spencer says.
You follow him outside. In the grass yard waits medical, parked along the entirety of the street stands law enforcement. Hotch nods at you as you return and you take it as a job well done, slouching against the side of a cop car to take a breather. 
"You okay?" Spencer asks. 
You grab for his hand without looking at him. His fingers are warm, neat as they slot through yours. "Why do they always pick on you?" you ask. 
Hotch's voice startles you, but you don't take back your hand. "They underestimate him," he says. "And you. Do you need anything? You're looking…"
"I'm fine." You're tired, too hot, and the short-lived adrenaline of a confrontation is crashing. "Thanks, Hotch." 
He trudges away. Spencer draws closer as you bend forward, his hand on your back. "Are you sure you're okay?" 
"No, I feel awful. I feel sick," you confess. 
He's the only person you'd ever admit it to. You crave his comfort. Spencer must read your mind (or more likely, the twitch of your sore back), his hand landing in the space between your shoulders as he crowds you. "That makes sense. High stress situations make us nauseous because of the fight or flight response. Our body's aren't good at keeping neurotransmitters where they're meant to be. Adrenaline mostly, but cortisol too. It's probably the norepinephrine that's making you feel sick." 
"How do I make it calm down?" 
"Just take a deep breath," he says, rubbing your back. 
You breathe in and out until the sick feeling subsides. Spencer prompts you into standing tall. 
"You know everything," you say fondly, touching his elbow. "Thank you." 
He nudges you. "Thank you for defending me." 
1K notes · View notes
nanamiluvs · 3 months
Text
can't keep his arms off !
pairing : wriothesley x reader
rating : fluff, very slight angst
wc : 550
tags : reader has no gender, reader is implied to be smaller than wriothesley in size, wriothesley is very clingy, wriothesley is touch starved, established relationship, hugging, kisses, physical touch as a love language, non-sexual physical touch, slight wriothesley angst
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷
wriothesley seems to have a problem with keeping his hands off of you.
Tumblr media
you didn't know when it had turned into this. as your relationship with wriothesley progressed, he became more and more comfortable with casually touching you. light touches on the small of your back turning into back hugs with his face pressed against the crook of your neck.
and now you were starting to wonder if your boyfriend is simply a wet, needy puppy who's going to die if he's not touching you.
he wants to have you sat on his lap as he works through the boring documents of his work, one hand carelessly playing with your hair and nuzzling his face against yours whenever he wants to just throw all those papers away.
he wants to have you lay ontop of his body or his body on top of yours as you watch your favorite show on the tv. he doesn't really care what's on the screen, he just needs to crush you with his weight or act as your personal bed. he uses your chest as his pillow when he's on top of you, arms wrapped around you to hold you firm to himself- he may or may not fall asleep in the position. the thing is, he wants you to feel the same way with him, to feel safe enough with him that you can't help but doze off with your body curled on top of his.
he wants you to hug him as tightly as you possibly can when he has you on the back of his bike, speeding up when you loosen your grip so you cling to him again. he's grinning like a little boy when he feels you press against him, knowing you trust him to such an extent.
trust is what matters the most for wriothesley. he's scared of trusting other people, yet with you, it's different, and that's what scares him even more. he's so scared of the thought that you may not return his trust, or not even love him as he loves you, that he can't help but search for your touch as a reminder. a reminder that no, he's just overthinking, you're there, you're not leaving him. nothing can stop the flow of his thoughts like feeling you physically. his hands reach out to you after his darkest nightmares, and only then can wriothesley calm down.
his larger frame wraps around you when he comes home late, too stressed from work- his only remedy caged in his arms now. wriothesley knows how to lie and how others can lie, thus wonders of words leave a doubt in his mind. but when he finally has you secured in his embrace, how can that not be real? you allow him so close to you, so intimate, you trust him and it almost drives wriothesley to tears when he thinks about it. you're there, he knows you're there when your arms creep up his back to return his hug, slowly patting him. there is peace and tranquility in moments like these, moments in which wriothesley is a little clingy.
wriothesley knows, but he also knows that there is no place he would rather be.
Tumblr media
608 notes · View notes
a-sapphic-love · 4 months
Text
🎧- e.w mindbreak
summary: in which ellie gifts reader an odd pair of headphones, and weird things start to happen.
warnings: MDNI!!!!, dom!ellie, sub!reader, manipulation, smuttt, mindbreak, hypno, bdsm, smoking blunts/ weed use, freeuse, exhibitionism, probably more that i forgot to list
✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩.✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩
my first ellie fic- enjoy! (tips and such are appreciated)
you're at work one day, humming at your desk as you finish up a task when your coworker ellie comes up to you.
you both don't talk much, but she's always been nice to you. its kind of weird, since she's cold to your other coworkers, but you don't think too much of it.
"hey, i got these headphones and customized them for my friend, but it turns out she doesn't really use them. your old pair broke, right? so i guess you could have these." she says, smiling. such a sweet gesture!
"oh, thank you! ive been wanting a new pair!" you say, returning the warm smile, and ellie hands you a box with some black headphones on them.
you're surprised when you open the box to find pink headphones, and they seem to be a little modified. ellie is long gone so you can't really ask, but you assume it's because the headphones were supposed to be for a friend of hers.
you put the headphones on, and they fit comfortably, so you decide to just start using them. you play some music, but are confused to realize something's wrong. there's an odd frequency playing.
so you just play a different song, except you keep hearing that same frequency. you stop playing the music to see, and think everything's normal again until you listen close and the frequency is still there.
you were raised by a family that was against waste, so you decide to just suck it up and use the headphones anyway. plus, after wearing them for a few days, you find every time ellie sees you with the headphones on, she just looks so excited. probably just really happy to see you using her gift.
however, odd things begin to happen. suddenly, every time you see ellie your panties get all sticky and you just want to follow her around like a lost puppy.
plus, you're getting worse and worse at your job. you start to forget things, or just simply ignore them. because now, all you spend your time at work doing is looking for ellie. she seems to already know you're getting dumber, and she helps with all the 'big girl things' you just can't do anymore.
"hi, angel, you need help right?" she coos every time you come find her to do something for you. "im so proud of you for coming to get me, i know you can't do it by yourself. it's okay..." and her gentle praise only makes your cunt leak more.
your boss sees how you don't really work anymore and gets angrier, much to ellie's advantage. one day, she takes you into the washroom and shows you a video.
one big, sparkly pink spiral is plastered on her phone screen, and she connects your headphones so you can hear the audio -
"you feel so good with your little pussy all wet, all you want are some orgasms right? you don't think any more, you only get dumber and dumber..." and the video trails off.
it feels like hours that you stand there staring at the screen, hypnotized. you feel her hands on your body, touching your nipples and squeezing your boobs. "you want an orgasm right? wanna cum so bad, but you can't do it yourself? come with me, ellie will help." she coos, and your horny broken mind only wants to listen.
ellie takes you to her house, something she's been wanting to do for a long time, "just had to make sure you were dumb enough," she thinks to herself.
she brings you into her room where there's a little cage all perfect for you, with your new favourite color: pink. she ties you up, all pretty, with an even prettier pink ball gag. you squirm a little, confused. you're not completely dumb yet, and ellie's annoyed by that fact.
luckily, there's a good solution. "it's okay princess, ellie will break that mind of yours, alright?" she says, teasingly. now that she has you all for herself, she doesn't need to keep up the nice act.
ellie leaves you to struggle briefly, before coming back with a small egg-shaped vibrator. she tapes it right on top of your clothed clit, before continuing to play hypno files.
you squirm, even though it hurts with all the tight ropes, at the feeling of the vibe. not only have you gotten soo much dumber, you're also needier. without really meaning to, you mumble a series of broken pleas through the gag. you don't care that ellie hypnotized you and is actively trying to break you. all you want is to cum.
ellie smiles when she notices you moving your hips, desperate for more friction. she presses down on the vibe before sliding her hands up your shirt to rub your nipples. the look in your big, teary eyes makes her clit throb.
"come on, know you wanna cum your brains out, so just do it. cum for me angel," she teases, and it sends you over the edge fast. finally, you break, her dumb little nympho toy.
she unties you quickly and removes the gag before taking all your clothes off. "good girls don't wear clothes if they don't need to... right, baby?"
"yes ellie!" you respond, nearly drooling from how good your last orgasm was- and how badly you want another one. ellie immediately takes her pants off when she hears how you say her name. she wants to fuck you soo bad already
shit, and the look in your eyes- like not a single thought passes through your head, ever. that's how she knows you're broken.
ellie lights a blunt fast, and you find yourself practically humping the floor at how hot she is when she smokes. the air in her room seems to get heavier, and it's greenish-yellow tinted. long puffs, and she takes a few hits before turning to you. "always wanted to do this, since the day i first saw that stupidly cute little face," she whispers, chuckling.
she takes a hit, and this time she blows it in your face. you cough, disoriented by the sudden sensation but you love every second of it. and you're happy to be obedient because maybe that means another orgasm- fuck, you just want to cum again.
lucky for you, ellie does too. she picks you up and throws you on her bed, kissing your pretty lips until you can't feel them. she stops momentarily, opening her drawer and getting her strap, a vibrator, and something else you can't see.
you realise what it is when you feel your nipple get pinched harshly, ellie put nipple clamps on you. you whine a little, but come to be... okay with the sensation. you just want to please ellie, after all.
and anyway, being so good for her pays off. you know for sure when she's 8 inches deep inside of you, stuffing your face inside a pillow with one hand and rubbing your clit with the other.
"you gonna make a mess, hm? you gonna make a mess for ellie?" she says, leaning over to kiss your swollen lips. "mhm, yesyesyesyes, 'm gonna make a mess for ellie, fu-u-uckkk, els," you whimper, and you know it's exactly what she wants to hear.
the base of the strap absolutely abuses ellie's clit, and it's not long before her movements become frantic and she gets even meaner. "yeah, you gonna cum your brains out again like a little whore? yeah?" she groans, slapping your ass harshly.
"say it, say you're a stupid whore for ellie," she says, when she doesn't hear a response. she's right about to cum, she just needs to hear you admit it.
"i-im a stupid whore for ellie!" you whine, having your third- or was it your fourth? orgasm since ellie broke you. it didn't matter how many you had, you just wanted more.
ellie nearly felt the same way. having her own little toy, it was too good just thinking about the possibilities.
after that day, ellie tried out all the things she'd been wanting to do. she brought you to work with her, except now you went so you could be the cum dumpster of the office, going under tables to eat your former coworkers out until they came all over your face.
she took you to the park, so she could humiliate you by making you hump random things. she took you to the library, so she could make you ask the female staff about books while controlling the vibrator in your panties,
even at home, ellie humiliated you by making you clean or do gardening outside with a skirt and no panties. anyone sensible would have been way to embarrassed to keep doing these things.
except you didn't really have a problem with your new life, because you always got orgasms, and that was all your dumb, broken slutty brain ever wanted.
✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩.✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩
this account supports palestine 🇵🇸❤️
do not buy any tlou games! neil druckmann, the creator, is a zionist who's funding a genocide! do not give him your money!
https://www.tumblr.com/sulfurcosmos/732456971539775488/how-you-can-help-palestine
474 notes · View notes
ssahotchnerr · 8 months
Note
omg the math homework one but aaron is the one who's bad at math (ok canonically he's probably very good at math) so you go over to his place one day and find him hunched over jack's math homework with his hand tangled in his hair trying to figure out a 3rd grade math problem. and jack has already lost interest and is watching cartoons on the TV while aaron is losing his mind. im thinking of that one incredibles scene where bob is like "THEY CHANGED MATH"
calling bullshit
just the image of aaron losing his complete mind over math 😭 omg <3 cw; mention of food, aaron is just 😭😒🤨🥰
you let yourself into aaron's apartment, takeout in hand. you enter into the usual scene - the lamp's lit in the corner, casting a warm, cozy glow. some laundry is perched on the chair, yet to be put away. jack's sprawled out on the couch, some show blaring in front of him. the only unusual thing, aaron seems to be absent.
"hey jackers." you stand beside him, brushing back some of the wispy hairs draped over his forehead. he doesn't acknowledge you too much, as his eyes are glued to the tv screen, simply murmuring a 'hi' in response. "where's your dad?"
"doing homework."
your nose crinkles in confusion. "homework?"
you receive a nod from him in response, and leave him be in search of aaron. you find him in the dining room, vaguely slouched over the table, frustratedly running his hand through his hair. it's quite disheveled, poking in all different directions. his tie is thrown exasperatedly onto the table as well, the top few buttons of his dress shirt undone, sleeves rolled up to his elbows.
"yikes." your tone is half laugh, half genuine concern. "difficult case?"
aaron straightens his posture, leaning his head back to look at you. his sweet brown eyes are heavily annoyed. "take a look at this."
you grimace slightly. "oh, i don't think i would be much help-"
"just, trust me. take a look."
you cautiously peer over his shoulder, expecting to come face to face with gruesome, murderous details of whatever case his team happens to be working on. but rather, you see multiple math worksheets - jack's name in his childlike, messy-yet-legible print in the corner of each.
you bit down onto your lip to refrain from laughing. "oh, this kind of homework."
"why the hell would they change math." aaron gruffs, tossing his pencil onto the table. "it's universal, isn't it? means the same damn thing everywhere. so who cares if you carry the number this way, or line up the problem this way."
"well, i mean-"
"this is third grade math, i'm a grown man and i've been sitting here trying to make sense of this new way how to do it. it's complete bullshit, if you ask me." a large exhale escapes him, his annoyance now heightening into slight anger. "and they say, this is the new simpler, easier way of doing it? again, bullshi-"
"okay." you laugh, placing a gentle kiss on his head. your hands wrap around him from behind, allowing you to soothingly run your palms along his chest. "how about you try and calm down. i brought food, so we'll eat, and you can take a break. afterwards, all three of us will sit down and figure this out. sound good?"
aaron releases another tense breath, relaxing back into his chair at your touch, and nods silently. you turn your head, placing a kiss on his neck. it's the closest skin of his you can reach, and his skin's warm from his aggravation.
not without giving him another kiss, you trail into the kitchen. but, you can hear him mumbling incoherently under his breath. "-everyone ends up using calculators anyway."
846 notes · View notes
toruvi · 5 months
Text
It's 3:04 in the afternoon when you're buried nose-deep in writing your research paper. And though you've been trying to focus on it for the last half hour, the only thing on your mind is literally all of the other things you need to get done. Clean your room, do the dishes, finish that late assignment (it's been almost a week now!) Shit. Too many things to do, and there's never enough hours in the day to feel like you can finish them.
You may or may not have been tipping over the edge of a breaking point for a while now.
But you've been convinced that it was hidden fairly well, at least from your friends. They don't press more than a simple "good luck with your paper" or "talk to you soon" when you tell them how busy you are.
However, your boyfriend definitely notices.
Levi isn't one to not speak his mind when something bothers him. In fact, he's pointed out several times in the last week that you shouldn't be overworking yourself. Out of anyone you know, Levi knows your limits the most. And he must see it where you don't, considering he's walked into your apartment with his copy of the key and is now standing over you, a paper bag in his hand as he glares down his nose.
"Hey," you mumble, turning back to your laptop screen in front of you. But the laptop is forced shut by a veiny hand, replaced with the plop of that same paper bag Levi was just holding. "Whats that?"
You pout when he slides the laptop down the dining table.
"Lunch. You need to eat."
"I'm not hungry."
"I know you are, don't fight me on this. Please just eat with me. Forget about your work for a minute."
He pulls out the boxes in the bag, revealing a couple of sandwiches. Fine, maybe you're a little hungry.
"You didn't answer my calls so I had to guess what you would've liked," Levi murmurs as he slides the boxes toward you. You mutter an apology, but he's not mad. He waves it off, simply telling you to eat and "stop worrying about shit for one damn second."
With anyone else, it might've pissed you off.
When you're absorbed in your work, it's hard to gather energy to talk to other people, let alone even take care of yourself. And yet, somehow, Levi is the one person who manages to read you like a book. For some reason, he's able to pick up on your bouts of silence and understand what you need. You always wondered how he can do that.
And though he's yet to say "I love you", you wonder if gestures like this are close enough to that.
He doesn't ask about work, merely sits with you and eats in silence. The brief moment of quiet feels good, comforting even. Especially in Levis presence. Despite his coarse language and tendency to maintain a glare most if not all times, you've always found him to be so... Stable. A steady wall to lean on when the world makes your stance tremble.
You really love that about him.
When you two have finished, Levi promptly cleans up the table. You assume it's okay to go back to work, but his hand lands on yours when you try to pull it back.
"You're done for the day," he says with a firm stare. The usual one he gives when he absolutely refuses to listen to any counterargument you might come up with. "We're gonna go for a walk, take you outside. Just get out of this shit and breathe some real fresh air."
"I'm not a dog," you grumble as he holds out his hand to you now to help you stand.
"Mhm," is all he says.
You two walk around the neighborhood, Levi having taken away your phone in an effort to keep you from too much more screen time. He'd return it if you really asked, but you're thankful for the restriction in all honesty.
Usually, Levi isn't the one to initiate an exorbitant amount of physical contact. It's you who tends to absentmindedly cling to his arm while you're talking. And it's generally you who comes up behind him to cover his eyes and make him guess who, despite the fact that he already knew just from the sound of your footsteps.
Most often, Levi does attend to little touches here and there. The back of your neck, the edge of your hip, the top of your thigh, along the line of your jaw. And now in this moment, it's when Levi steps up a little and takes your hand completely in his. It isn't anything new for you to hold hands, but it's rare for him to be initiator.
You appreciate that. Those moments where he's willing to be more brave about touching. It's calming, feeling his fingers between yours as your arms sway with every step.
"I'm sorry for being so short with you lately," you sigh, staring at the cracks in the sidewalk you step on. Levi always seems to make a subconscious effort not to step on them, even now.
"It's nothing. I'm always short with you, anyways..." He trails off quietly.
Your sudden snort startles him, obvious with the incredulous look on his face as you burst into a tiny fit of laughter. His brow raises in confusion.
"That wasn't even close to being a funny joke and you're still laughing?"
"It was funny to me! You're always funny."
"You're the only person in the whole world who thinks that."
"Must be why you're dating me, right?"
His hold tightens around your hand. "I'm dating you because I l-"
Levi cuts himself off and inhales through his nose, pushing his sunglasses up to hide his eyes as he recomposes himself. "I'm dating you for a multitude of reasons."
"You could be more specific."
"If you keep talking I'm gonna have fewer reasons," he clears his throat, hovering his free hand over his eyes to shield himself from the sun, leaving remnants of the summer's heat on his skin.
You smile, for the first time in a few days, actually. "I thought you were trying to make me feel better."
"Hmph." Clearly, Levi has nothing else to say.
426 notes · View notes
joelscruff · 1 year
Text
feelings on fire (joel miller x f!reader) 18+ PART FOUR
Tumblr media
previous chapters | kofi | ok babes, lemme preface this chapter by saying i'm not exactly sure how i feel about it. i wanted it to be longer and i wanted more things to happen but this week has simply been a clusterfuck for me and i wanted to at least get something out to you guys cause you deserve it. i hope yall like sexting and phone sex cause that's all this part really consists of, so if that's not your thing i'm sorry and i hope the next part will be more enjoyable for you. thanks for bearing with me 💕 chapter summary: joel is busy with work but that doesn't mean there aren't other things you can do without being in the same room. rating: 18+ explicit warnings: age difference (reader is in her 20s, joel in his 50s), innocent/inexperienced reader, corruption, praise kink (joel calls reader babygirl, sweetheart, etc), dirty talk, mentions of religion (reader’s family are very catholic), sexting, phone sex, mutual masturbation word count: 4.2k ao3
Now that you have Joel's phone number, it's ridiculously difficult not to text him constantly, especially considering he hasn't reached out since his first initial response. You'd replied to his first message with a heart emoji, something you'd almost immediately regretted but have had to come to peace with. You manage to keep yourself busy for most of the day, reminding yourself that he's at work and probably doesn't have time to be texting some shy and inexperienced college girl. It's not like you're in a relationship or anything; you've known the man for three days.
"Three days," you whisper to yourself, settled in your favorite spot in the backyard, near the pool. Three days and he already has his claim on you, the ghost of his touch still peppered all over your skin. You'd put on a bathing suit in case you decided to go for a swim, but also because you wanted an excuse to look at your body again, look at where his hands had been.
It's been so rare for you to ever look at yourself the way you do now, the way Joel has taught you to. You were almost ashamed of having a body to begin with, embarrassed by your legs, your breasts, and especially what lay inside your underwear. You'd been raised to view them all as taboo, despite them all literally being a part of you. The swimsuit you wear now isn't necessarily the sexiest thing, just a black one-piece you'd bought at the beginning of the summer with modesty in mind, but you find yourself feeling different in it, more confident. Mr. Miller likes this body. I like this body.
Your phone buzzes near your head and you scramble to reach for it, pushing your sunglasses down your nose and peering down at the screen. Disappointment floods you when you see it's just from your mom, but your eyebrows raise in curiosity when you read the contents of the message:
Will be home after your father. Don't tell him about Mr. Miller.
Your mother? Asking you to keep a secret? It's probably one of the most uncharacteristic things she's ever done; you have to read the message a second time to make sure you're understanding correctly. Why doesn't she want your dad to know? He was the one who'd attempted to defend Joel in the first place, wasn't he?
Almost like she knows you're going to question her logic, another messages comes in a few seconds later:
I will tell him on my own.
Interesting.
You swipe back to your "conversation" with Joel and feel your heart flutter at his one-word reply. God, you really are insatiable. You wonder what he's doing right now; lifting heavy things? Ordering people around? You certainly know that he's good at telling people what to do...
Your skin warms at the thought and you quickly shake it away, tossing your phone back into the grass and taking a few steps toward the pool. You plunge into the cold water just to soothe the hot ache you already feel between your legs.
--
Dinner is normal, although the secret hanging in the air between you and your mother isn't lost on you by any means. You definitely didn't get your ability at keeping secrets from her; she's flustered, quiet as she chews her meatloaf and awkwardly questions your father about his day. He doesn't notice anything is amiss though, just scarfs down his food and mutters something about paperwork before disappearing into his office.
"Why don't you want me to tell Dad?" you whisper as you help her do the dishes, watching as she scrubs a plate unnecessarily hard.
"Because," she hisses, eyes darting to his closed office door in the hallway, "Your father will want to ask him over for dinner again and I am not having a repeat of what happened last time." She makes a face at the thought of Joel's previous insult, "If we're going to help this man find his faith we have to take things slow, just like you said. I'll tell your father when the time is right."
You're at a loss for words at the way your lie has somehow already wormed itself into your mother's brain without a shadow of a doubt. She's genuinely convinced you're trying to do the right thing, turn Joel Miller into a God fearing Catholic. It makes you uncomfortable to think about how your lie has already gotten this deep; for a moment you briefly consider calling the whole thing off, changing the story, maybe even telling the truth.
And then your phone buzzes in your pocket.
"Whatever you say," you reply quickly, drying the last plate and backing away, "Um, I'm gonna go read in my room for a bit."
--
How was your day?
The text makes your heart positively soar as you flop onto your bed again like you had this morning, bringing your phone to your face and grinning like an idiot. He didn't forget about you.
boring. i missed you.
You don't care if you come across as clingy; it's how you feel. Your heart does stutter a bit when you hit send but all nervousness fades when he responds just as quickly:
Missed you too, angel.
You swallow around the sudden lump in your throat, heart pounding when his little speech bubble appears again to show that he's typing something else:
What did you do?
went swimming
What an image to put in my head.
You smile, feeling your cheeks warm. Your face falls however at his next message:
What did you wear?
You grimace, eyeing the ridiculously modest swimsuit hanging off your desk chair, still damp from earlier. Should you be honest or come up with a white lie, put a different image in his head? No, you've already lied enough for one day.
a one piece but i don't like it. it's not very me.
I'll buy you a new one. Tell me what you like.
He'd really do that? You bite your lip and weigh the options in your mind, thinking about the lingerie on those mannequins this morning, the things your roommates back at college wear. You want something you'll feel different in, something that makes you feel more like this sexy version of yourself Joel is helping you discover.
bikini. maybe pink or blue?
You got it. Maybe you can give me another fashion show.
You feel a surge of excitement, of intrigue. You'd wondered at the mall what kind of clothes Joel would want to see you in... he'd loved the dresses this morning - especially the white one - so you can't help but wonder what kind of swimsuit he'll choose for you. You're not completely sheltered; you know there are different types of bikinis. One of your friends had worn a micro sling bikini for Halloween last year as a part of her costume for a party she was attending - you'd taken one look and decided you weren't going.
Would Joel pick a bikini like that for you? The thought makes you feel a bit queasy, suddenly unsure if you'd even want to wear something like that. You want to look good for him but you don't want to sacrifice everything about yourself to do it. You stare at his message, wishing he wasn't just words on a screen right now.
where are you?
At a bar with my crew. But I'd much rather be wherever you are right now, babygirl.
You relax a bit into your sheets at the pet name; the word hasn't even come directly from his mouth but it has you acting like it has. Your body goes loose, that familiar throbbing starting up again in your underwear. You cross your legs and duck underneath the covers to type your reply:
i'm in my bed. i wish you were here
And what do you wish I was doing?
You stare at the text for a moment, biting down hard on your lip and trying to think of exactly how to articulate your thoughts in the best way. You've never done this before, never said or typed dirty things to somebody else. You figure texting is as good a medium as any to finally practice.
i wish you were playing with my pussy
The throbbing gets worse as you type the words. You cross your legs a bit tighter when you hit send, already nervous about what he'll say back. He doesn't waste much time.
You like when I play with your pussy, don't you?
Your cheeks warm as you sink even further beneath your blankets, legs parting slowly. You reach down to pop the button on your jeans, slowly typing out a response with one hand:
yes
The zipper of your jeans is down within seconds, your right hand carefully slipping past the open material and sliding down to cup where you're aching over your underwear. Your phone vibrates again and you hear a small whimper slip past your lips.
And you liked having those big fingers deep in there huh?
yes. it felt so good.
So full, right baby?
You circle your clit slowly with your index finger, mouth popping open at his words. The memory of the way his fingers felt inside of you, the way they'd pushed and prodded you so deep...
really full.
I'll do it again real soon, angel. Promise.
You whimper again, still tracing your pussy through your panties. Your brow furrows when the next message comes in a few seconds later:
I gotta head back now but I'll call you later. Stay up for me, don't fall asleep.
You frown. Oh well, you've gotten off without him a few times so far, what's one more time? You watch as the bubble indicating he's typing again pops up.
And don't touch that pretty pussy until I tell you.
Your hand freezes and you feel your lips turn into a pout despite the fact that he can't even see you.
:(
XO
"Meanie." you murmur at your phone, taking your hand out of your pants and tilting your head back to stare at your ceiling. You look down at the message again and can't help but feel your lips upturn; he's going to call you later... maybe meanie is too strong a word.
--
You prepare a little too much for your late-night phone call with Joel.
You take a long bath, soothing and relaxing with some lit candles and quiet music, all the while returning to your previous mental state of pretending you don't have anything between your legs. You're just a barbie doll down there, you tell yourself dubiously, there's nothing to touch or feel. That wishful thinking doesn't last very long however when you find yourself re-reading Joel's texts and feeling your pussy begin to pulse again under the water.
After your bath you comb carefully through your hair, counting each stroke to pass the time. You apply more lotion to your skin than you could ever need and then change into a pair of pajamas, just some simple sleep shorts and a t-shirt. You wonder what Joel would think of your old nightdresses, the ones you used to wear when you were a kid, still folded away in your dresser but probably much shorter and more revealing now. You take a quick peek at an old yellow one, lacy and faded; it practically smells of innocence and the bright eyed Jesus loving girl you once were, and you find yourself feeling sad. You shut it away again.
By the time you're freshly bathed and in bed your parents have already said goodnight and are settled in their bedroom down the hall. All you can do is lay back against your pillows and wait for Joel to call.
Nine o'clock passes; you decide to read for a little bit.
Ten o'clock; no big deal, you turn on the TV and quietly watch the beginning of a movie.
Eleven o'clock; you're about halfway into the movie now, feeling sleepy but still checking your phone every few minutes.
Twelve o'clock; the movie ends but you don't pay much attention to the conclusion, staring anxiously at your phone and waiting for it to light up. But still nothing.
It's almost one when you finally begin to face the reality of the situation. He never gave you a specific time, just said he'd call later, but how much later did he mean? Maybe he's already home now, in bed and asleep. He's probably forgotten that he even said he'd call. You're not that important. You're just some kid.
Tears well in your eyes when you finally turn off your bedside lamp and shuffle further beneath the covers, still staring at your phone. Please call, you think pathetically to yourself, or even text. Just do something.
You fall asleep with your phone gripped tightly in your hand.
--
You wake up to a light buzzing sound and sensation, your eyes squeezing together in confusion. You open them blearily and find yourself facing your bedside clock; 2:23am. It takes a few seconds for you to register that the buzzing is coming from your phone, and when you look down at the screen and see the name Mr. Miller, your eyes go wide. You answer it immediately.
"Hello?" you whisper, burying yourself under the covers again and trying to be as quiet as possible.
"Hey, babygirl," he says softly on the other side, his southern drawl melting smoothly into your ear, "I wake you up?"
"Y-yeah," you mumble, still blinking your eyes and trying to get some alertness back, "Sorry, I know you told me not to fall asleep."
He chuckles and it's the most beautiful sound, charming and gentle, "That's okay, sweetheart. I got back much later than I thought I would, it's my fault," you hear him grunt a little bit, like he's settling onto his couch (or his bed?), "You stay up long waitin' for me?"
You bite your lip, "Um, maybe."
"Aw, baby, I'm sorry," he murmurs, "Poor thing, you must be so sleepy."
"M'not," you say, but your voice betrays you.
"Shh," he whispers, "You go back to sleep, we'll try this again tomorrow."
You try to sit up but you're still half asleep and the blankets are so warm and inviting, "No," you say quickly, "No, I wanna talk to you. I've been waiting."
You can hear the smile in his voice when he replies, "God, you're so fuckin' sweet," he inhales deeply, "What I wouldn't give to have you in my bed right now, angel... all curled up and comfy in my arms."
You smile, eyes closing again as you settle back into the blankets and listen to his voice, "I want that." you murmur.
"I know you do," his voice is so soft and soothing in your ear, almost like a lullaby, "You want so many things with me, don't you?"
"Mm hm," you agree softly, "All of it."
"All of it." he repeats thoughtfully.
The line goes quiet for a moment, both of you just listening to each other breathe evenly. You know you should say something else, try and wake yourself up, but the longer you lie there with the phone to your ear the more tired you seem to be getting.
"Did you touch your pussy, babygirl?" he finally asks, voice still barely a whisper.
Your heart stutters, "No," you reply just as quietly.
"Good girl."
You hum at his praise, melting further into your pillow. You listen as he breathes slowly on the other end. You're starting to drift off again, you can feel it.
"I've got an early start tomorrow," he says softly, "But how 'bout I call you around seven or so, before I leave?"
"Yes," you whisper, "Please."
He laughs quietly, "Okay, sweetheart, you go back to sleep now," he exhales and seems to settle into his bed, just like you, "Sweet dreams."
"'Night," you mumble softly, leaving him to end the call as you fade quickly back to sleep.
--
You don't make the same mistake you made last night; you wake up promptly at six thirty and make sure you stay awake, washing your face and getting dressed for the day. You hear the shower going in your parents room and hope that miraculously both of them will have already left by the time Joel calls you.
No such luck. You can hear them both bustling around in the kitchen when your phone starts to buzz, and you quietly tiptoe back to bed and yank the covers up over yourself, hoping it'll muffle your conversation.
"Hi," you whisper.
"Mornin'", Joel replies; you can hear a smile in his voice, "Why are you whisperin'?"
You grimace, "My parents are still here."
"Ahh, the same parents who think I'm your guitar teacher, right?"
You bring a hand up to your face in embarrassment, "Oh my god, I forgot I told you that."
He chuckles, "So we're sneakin' around, huh? That what's happenin'? Is this gonna end with me gettin' shot?"
Your eyes widen, "I hope not!"
He laughs again, louder this time, "I'm kiddin', babygirl, don't worry. But you're an adult, you don't need their permission to see me."
"I know that, but as long as I'm under their roof they have rules, and I gotta follow them. Plus..." you make a face, "My mom doesn't like you."
He snorts, "Yeah, I figured."
"I kind of told her that um... that I'm... well..."
"What?"
"That I'm teaching you about God," you close your eyes, feeling your skin burn, "That you borrowed my hymn book and you're gonna help me learn how to play some of them."
There's complete silence on the line after you speak and for a moment you're scared he's hung up. You pull the phone away from your ear and look down at the screen; the call is still active. You bring it back up and he finally says something.
"Jesus, you're naughty," he mutters, voice suddenly dark, rough, "Lyin' about all that, just to see me?"
You swallow, "Y-yeah."
"Naughty," he repeats, "Naughty girl."
Another beat of silence. Then-
"Are you in bed?"
"Yes."
"Take off your panties."
You don't need telling twice, you're already throbbing just from hearing his voice change. You hold your phone against your ear with your shoulder and make quick work of hiking up your dress and tugging your panties down your legs.
"They're off," you whisper, voice shaky.
"Rub your clit," he says immediately, and you hear the unmistakable sound of his belt jangling on the other end, "'Til your pussy's all wet."
Is he...? He must be. You swallow tightly and do as he says, trying to focus on the task at hand and not on the fact that he's most certainly touching his cock right now while he talks to you. Getting wet isn't much of a challenge; as soon as your finger touches your clit you can already feel yourself start to drip.
"I'm wet." you whimper, rubbing your clit slowly.
"Already?" his voice is almost pained.
"Is it...is it weird that I get wet so easily?"
"No," he says immediately and you can almost visualize him shaking his head, "No, it's good. It's just 'cause you're so new to all of it," he groans, low and husky, "Fuck, I can't get enough of you."
You whimper again at his words, rubbing yourself a bit quicker and biting down on your lip. You can still hear the dull sounds of your parents from the kitchen below; you have to be quiet.
"Put a finger inside," Joel murmurs on the other end of the line, rough and scratchy, "Deep as you can go."
You bite down on your lip harder as you carefully push your index finger inside yourself, brow furrowing at the sensation. It's certainly nothing like having Joel's fingers in there and you immediately want to add another one, get that full feeling back.
"Push it in and out," he continues, "With me now, in..." you hear a dull slap, "And out," you follow along, eyes becoming hooded as you listen to what is most certainly Joel jacking himself off, "In....and out..."
He's pretending he's inside you. The thought alone is enough to make you moan, and you have to bring your other hand up to cover your mouth as you fuck yourself along to his pace. You add a second without being asked, whimpering pitifully into the phone and spreading your legs wider.
"Oh, babygirl," he whispers, "Those sounds you make..." he groans, low and deep, "Two fingers now, sweetheart."
"I'm already using two," you admit, still pumping them in and out; he groans again, even louder.
"Jesus Christ," he mutters, "Three then, baby. Add your third, that's it." You hear another slap of skin and the sound is enough to make your orgasm begin to build in your belly. You wish he was here with you, holding you, touching you.
"I wish you were inside me," you find yourself whispering, voice shaky and pathetic.
He groans again, "Which part of me, sweetheart? My fingers?"
You shake your head, "No."
"Say it."
"Your cock," you whimper, chest heaving as you feel yourself getting closer and closer, "I want your cock inside me."
"Fuck," his voice is even deeper in your ear, almost like he's right there next to you, "I know you do, angel. Want it so fucking deep, don't you?"
You nod ferociously despite the fact that he can't see you, plunging your three fingers in and out steadily and feeling your legs begin to shake, "Yes, Mr. Miller," you whimper, "I need it."
"You do need it," he groans, "You need this cock, babygirl. Can't believe you never had one before, can't stop thinkin' about it," the slapping is getting faster, louder.
"I wanted it so bad last night," you keen, eyebrows scrunching together in pleasure, "And when you didn't call, I thought maybe-"
"Oh, babygirl," he groans, "Don't think like that, don't ever-" he lets out a deep grunt, almost like a whimper, "Don't think for one second that I don't think about you, about that pussy. Can't wait to be inside you. Gonna fuck you so good, so right," he grunts, his voice becoming more and more strained, "Gonna be so deep inside that sweet little hole, you're gonna feel it in your fuckin' stomach."
Holy fuck. He's never talked this much before, never said things this filthy or graphic. It's too much for you to handle all at once, pussy tightening around your fingers as his words bring you over the edge.
"I'm coming," you manage to squeak out, then slap your hand back down on your mouth as you shake and writhe under the blankets, moaning pitifully into your hand and praying your parents don't hear you.
Joel doesn't tell you he's coming but the slapping sound suddenly comes to a complete stop, and the next thing you know he's groaning loudly in your ear, breathy and rough. You listen to him, closing your eyes and letting his sounds invade your whole body as you come, wrapping around you like another warm blanket. You've never heard him make sounds like this, depraved and guttural and loud. You can only imagine what he looks like right now, what his cock looks like. You know what happens when men come, you know about ejaculation, but the thought of Joel doing that... right now...
"Mmmhmmm," you moan into your hand and feel your eyes roll back, picturing Joel laying in his bed, hand around his cock, "Oh...fuck..." you fuck yourself with your fingers until it's too much, until the sensations are borderline painful. You move your hand away from your pussy and squeeze down on your thigh, trying to get your legs to stop shaking.
There's a few moments of heavy breathing where neither of you speak, both of you coming down from your orgasms and trying to catch your breaths. You open your legs wider and lay there like a starfish, eyes closed, chest heaving. You hear the door slam downstairs, followed by the sound of your father getting in his police car and your mother getting in her SUV.
"My parents just left." you mutter, still breathless.
Joel chuckles softly, "Think they heard you?"
You shake your head, "No way, they'd have already broken down my door if they had any idea what's going on up here."
He laughs again, "Hold on a sec, let me clean myself up here a bit."
You can't help but smile at the image of Joel being vulnerable like that, having to clean up his own mess instead of yours. You shiver at the thought and slowly sit up in bed, body heavy and sated.
"That was... a lot," you say softly, still trying to even out your breaths, "All that... that stuff you said."
You hear the concern in his voice immediately, "Was it too much?"
"No," you say immediately, shaking your head, "No, not at all. I just..." you feel your cheeks burn, "I wasn't expecting....I didn't realize how much you thought about doing that."
"Doin' what?" you can almost hear his smirk.
"...Fucking me," you whisper it, even though your parents are gone, "Putting your...putting your cock in me."
He groans again, softer this time, "I'll be honest, darlin'. It was all I thought about yesterday at work. And it's all I'm gonna be thinkin' about today."
You shiver, lips turning up in a pleased smile, "Really?"
"Really, sweetheart. And I know we're takin' it slow, and that's okay, but fuck if I don't think about how that pussy's gonna feel around me..." he groans again and you feel the undeniable sensation of yourself getting wet again; insatiable.
"What if...what if it doesn't fit?" you ask quietly, unsure just like yesterday, "I know you said we'll make it fit but..."
"It'll fit," he reassures you tenderly, "Don't worry, sweetheart. We'll go real slow, I'll be real gentle, and you just take it," he takes a breath, slow and steady, "You were made to take it, babygirl."
You hear yourself whimper softly, closing your eyes and turning your head into your pillow. God, you could listen to him talk to you like this for hours, just telling you everything he wants to do to you, everything he wants to teach you...
"When can I see you again?" you whisper.
"Well, that's what we need to figure out now, isn't it?" you can hear the hint of a smile in his voice, "When are these guitar lessons gonna take place?"
You wince, sitting up a bit in bed and leaning back against your pillows, "So you're okay with that? With me lying, I mean?"
"If that's what you feel you need to do, then it's okay," he says, and you can tell he means it, "I will probably have to actually teach you some guitar, though."
"I don't mind," you reply with a smile, remembering the way his hands had felt on yours when he'd first shown you those chords, the way you'd settled between his legs and he'd held you so close to him, "...As long as you teach me in your bed."
"Fuck," he murmurs, voice going dark again, "You are a naughty girl, aren't you?"
You can't help but smirk, "It's starting to seem that way, yeah."
2K notes · View notes
sceletaflores · 7 months
Note
Can you please please please write a smut FIC where reader and Mike is on the Night Shift and we end up thigh ridinggg!!!!
- ps we call him Mikey 😭😭😭
Body Language
.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.✧ ✦
Tumblr media
pairing: mike schmidt x afab!reader
word count: ofc it's 1.9k+
warnings: nsfw 18+
authors note: hi anon! thanks so much for the ask, i had so much fun writing it! hope you love it! mwah <333
.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.✧ ✦
“About time you finally show up.”
Were the first words Mike heard as soon as he walked into the security office of Freddy’s. He sighed loudly, shrugging his rain coat off to hang it on the back of the door.
"Don't start," he said gruffly.
Mike turned to face you, your body leaning against the opposite wall, arms crossed over your chest. You had a smug smile on your face. "I was starting to think you got too scared to come back."
Mike scoffed. "Don't get too excited," He deadpans. "I just had some trouble with the babysitter.”
You don't respond, only following him with your eyes as he walks over and sits down in the one office chair in-front of the monitors. Mike can tell you've been here for a while now, if the half-drunken water bottle and empty protein bar wrapper sitting on the desk is anything to go by.
He only just starts flipping through the different channels when you speak up again. "You're in my seat."
He doesn't look up from the screen when he replies. "You weren't sitting in it."
You scoff loudly, he can hear you push off the wall. The sound of your footsteps getting closer and closer as you walk toward him. "I was sitting in it for thirty minutes before you even got here."
"You sound like a child," He replies, swiveling around to face you. Your body is close enough to slightly loom over his seated form. "Just go get another chair from the dining room."
"No, I was here first. The comfy chair is mine," You press. "You go get a chair."
"Comfy chair" was definitely a stretch, the office chair was only slightly better than the dining chairs.
Mike stares at you for a moment before swiveling back to the monitors. "No." He says, completely dismissing you.
It's quiet for a moment, before you let out an exasperated sigh. "Fine." You state, with a small shrug before shoving between Mike and the desk and unceremoniously plopping down in his lap.
"What the fuck are you doing?" Mike asks loudly, raising his hands up to avoid touching you. You've already gone back to work, idly flipping through the monitors like this is normal.
"You won't move, so you have to share." You say simply.
Mike stares daggers at your back, slowly placing his hands on either side of the chairs arm rests. "You're crazy." He mutters, but the last thing he's going to do is get up and let you win this weird ass game you've decided to challenge him to.
He tries his best to ignore you, he really does, but after a while he can feel his heart start to beat ever so slightly faster. Mike's not proud enough to admit that you're definitely attractive. He'd always thought that, even though you drive him crazy 90% of the time. You have a gorgeous face, and an amazing figure. Of course he would never tell you any of this, you would never let him hear the end of it.
So he doesn't, but on his lonelier nights, he lets his mind run rampant with visions of you on your knees, mouth open and waiting for his release. Or you on all fours, moans pouring out of your mouth uncontrollably as he thrusts in and out of your dripping cunt, hitting the spot inside you that makes you light up like a Christmas tree. Or you on your back, hands gripping his hair so tightly because you can't handle how good his mouth feels sucking on your clit.
Those nights are becoming more and more frequent these days, and he can never refrain from shoving his hand down his sleep shorts and fisting his hand over his hard cock furiously until he ruins his boxers.
Mike's brought back from his thoughts running rampant in his head by the mortifying realization that currently, with you mere inches away from his crotch, he's hard as a rock. It's not helping that all he can see is your silhouette directly sitting in front of him. Your curves fully on display, in your form fitting shirt and tight jeans. He can't help the way his eyes scan down your body. Greedily raking from your shoulders to your waist that tapers down to the swell of your ass sitting pretty inches away from his growing bulge.
Worst of all, you just won't stop fidgeting. Tiny, unconscious movements that jostle Mike just enough to make him feel his dick scrape against the zipper of his jeans. All he can do is stare, sweating bullets basically white-knuckling the chair in order to stay still, scared to even breathe too deeply.
Then it all goes to shit in a matter of seconds. You knock the water bottle off the desk trying to switch monitors, and when you go to pick it up you scoot back just the tiniest bit, but it's enough to grind your ass directly over his dick.
Immediately Mike has his hands tight around your hips, jerking you back up into a sitting position as quickly as he can. His whole body going rigid against the chair in embarrassment, eyes wide and mortified.
You're still too, back sitting up straight as a board. He's waiting for you to say something, to laugh at him, but you're silent. There's an apology on the tip of his tongue, when suddenly you push the chair out from the desk, sending you and Mike flying backwards. In a flash, you flip to face him sitting directly over his thigh. Slotting your knee between his legs and the chair.
Your pupils are blown, eyes swallowed almost entirely by black. "How long?" You ask, softly. It takes Mike a second for your words to break through the fog clouding his brain, but he's just confused. He tilts his head to this side in question, not trusting his voice to sound anything but fucked.
"How long were you sitting here with this," You specify what you're saying by pushing your knee more firmly against his hard dick, making Mike's hands spasm on your hips and choke out a soft whine. "Before you planned on doing anything with it?"
Mike can do nothing but blink up at you slowly. You look almost predatory, staring at him so fiercely he swears you can see his soul. You still haven't moved, he can feel the warmth radiating between your legs against his thigh. His hands jerk almost unconsciously, trying to get you to grind forward. You smile, looking down at your position splayed over his lap and back up to his face.
"What do you want?" You ask sweetly. "Do you want me to move, Mikey?"
Your words hit him like a truck, he moans loudly, nodding his head frantically. "Yeah? You want me to move?" You ask again, tipping into his personal space, hands flat on his chest. You lean forward, breath puffing out over his ear.
"Move me then." You hiss, directly into his ear.
Mike lets out a guttural groan, eyes snapping shut tightly. He wants to, so badly but he just can't.
"Come on Mikey," You goad, your eyes glassy. "Move me."
Mike opens his eyes, looking down at his grip on your hips. Ever so slightly, he shifts you forward. Your eyes flutter closed, lips parting to let out a small moan. Turns out that's all the encouragement Mike needs. He grinds you backward before roughly dragging you forward again. It's absolutely lewd.
"Fuck, Mike." You say breathlessly, chin dropping down to your chest, going completely pliable in his hands letting him move you. He can only stare incredulously at you, beyond shocked that this is really happening. He's waiting to jolt awake home alone in bed with a soiled pair of boxers at any moment.
But he doesn't, you're actually here. Sitting on his lap grinding a wet patch into his jeans. Mike hardly knows what to do with himself. Your body is warm between his hands, alive in ways he never thought to be possible. "Jesus," He whispers to himself, sweat dripping down his brow. “Fuck…!” Mike grits out, wrenching his head up to stare at the ceiling. “I can’t look”
He feels you falter the slightest bit, hips slowing down a fraction. “Why not?” You ask softly, a hint of insecurity puncturing your tough exterior.
“It’s too much,” Mike admits breathlessly, chest rising and falling rapidly. “I can’t look or I’ll come in my pants.”
You let out a small shocked laugh, but it’s quickly drowned out by another moan. Your body trembles with pleasure. "Shit, faster…go faster," You mutter, taking it upon yourself to speed things up. Hips moving frantically on his thigh. Your knee is still slotted tightly to his now aching cock, he can feel every move you make. The friction feels amazing, it's taking everything in him not to hump up against your leg like a horny dog. The heat from your body feels scalding.
The absolute vision you make sends Mike's nerves quivering. He needs more. He brings his hands up to your face, tracing your bottom lip with his thumb gingerly. Your eyes open, looking back at him, not ceasing your movements.
"Can I?" He pants, hoping to god you understand what he's asking. It takes you a second, but eventually you nod. He tips forward and seals your lips with his. His fingers sliding into your hair to hold your head in place as he kisses you.
He takes control of the kiss, tongue brushing against your bottom lip. You part your lips willingly for him, letting his tongue explore your mouth. He greedily swallows your moans, groaning all the while.
You break the kiss first, only a string of saliva connects your lips before breaking under the pressure of gravity. Your lips are swollen and red, glossy from kissing.
“Oh god…” Your whimpers ghost over his lips, forehead resting on his. “Oh, god, Mikey…”
“Yeah,” Mike replies, voice deep and scratchy from lack of use, he rolls his hips up the tiniest bit. “Yeah that’s it…Fuck you look so pretty, so pretty for me.”
You nod, hips moving even faster than before, losing the rhythm you’d built up. Your hands fumble down to furiously unzip his hoodie, tearing the zipper down to reveal his plain white tank top underneath. Your hands greedily rake down his chest, nails brushing over his nipples making him whimper out moan.
“Fuck Fuck Fuck, Mike,” You whine, grip tightening into the meat of his chest. He can tell your close without you even saying it.
“Fuck yes, come, come on my thigh.” Mike begs, gripping your hips so tightly it could border on painful.
“Shit! Mikey, I’m gonna come,” Your eyes are screwed shut, sweat making your hair stick to your face.
“Do it.” He pleads, not taking his eyes off your face.
“I’m coming, I’m coming.” Mike can feel your nails digging crescent moons in his chest as you careen over the edge. Hips stuttering as you ride out your orgasm, he can almost feel the way your pussy trembles as you work yourself through the aftershocks, cut off little moans forcing their way out of your mouth. Your body finally gives out, tipping forward to lean on his chest, wet breaths puffing against his neck.
Mike follows suit, eyes dropping closed as he unloads into his boxer shorts making a second wet patch seep into his jeans. Hips twitching up every other second. He moans loudly into your hair, trying and failing to muffle his noises.
When you both come back down, it’s silent for a few moments as you both wrack your brains for what to say. As always, you’re the first one to speak up.
“So…” You say between panting breaths, he can feel you start to smile against his neck. “Same time tomorrow?”
Mike chuckles up at the ceiling, pinching your waist lightly.
“Fuck off.”
.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.✧ ✦
taglist!
@ebodebo @yuenity @mfdxz
767 notes · View notes
lokisgoodgirl · 5 months
Text
Peace [Loki x Reader]
A Link to my Masterlist is HERE Summary: After an outing to the Christmas Tree Farm goes awry, Loki does a little soul searching in his moccasins. (w/c 1.2k) Warnings: A tiny bit spicy. Like literally pepper. Fluff, some forestry angst(?) A/N: My contribution to the Secret Santa 2023 event hosted by the wonderful @fictive-sl0th - Merry Christmas @coldnique  ❤️ Request: Reader and Loki are burdened with a mission; finding the perfect tree. Unfortunately, our god doesn't deem any of the ones they see at the farm worthy so...
Tumblr media Tumblr media
You watched Loki’s frown deepen as he concentrated on the road ahead. A familiar sign flashed by at the roadside, finally. Tony had given you a loan of his cabin in Vermont for the week. But festive, it was not. Not yet.
You turned up the volume on the touch-screen, hoping that Elton would rouse Loki’s mood a little. Biting your lip, you glanced at the god out the corner of your eye. No change. The trip to the Christmas tree farm had not been a success.
“They were all too...bushy, unkempt” he grumbled, switching to fifth gear with an unnecessarily erotic yank. “Well that’s what pine trees do, my love” you replied, letting your eyes run up his chest, up his neck. Loki hurmphed. “-And the needles on them were so jagged. Dry. All arrogance and no substance." He tilted his chin upwards, the hard vein in his neck throbbing at the tip of an elegant turtle-neck jumper. The god let out an incredulous scoff. “My dear you could injure your delicate mortal hands. I simply will not allow it.” He paused, nodding sagely as you approached a bend. "Arrogant. Yes, that's what they were. No individuality, no...depth,” he growled, giving a haughty sniff. You looked out the window, taking a deep and silent breath. Placing a hand on his thigh, you felt the muscles beneath his jeans work, clenching. You gave him a consolatory pat. “I mean really,” Loki continued undeterred. “Once the various trinkets you like so much are added to the tableau it will look truly ridiculous. Pompous, in fact.” “At least they were green,” you murmured. The sound of Loki’s hair whipping as he snapped to face you rustled the air. “Yes,” he snipped. “At least they were that.”
Back at the cabin, you flinched as Loki threw the door closed behind him. He strode into the kitchen, dropping the car keys in a dish with a malevolent rattle. You walked to where he stood gripping the counter top, sliding your hands around his waist. He huffed gently, before his touch covered yours. “I’m sorry,” he muttered. “I ruined the Christmas ambiance, didn’t I?” “A bit, yes” you replied. He huffed again. The soft, nasal kind that denoted annoyance at himself. He spun to face you.
The fine knit of his sweater pulled against your fingertips. In seconds his lips sealed to your neck, longing kisses wet against the angle of your jaw. Loki pulled you against him, soft tongue darting teasingly against your lips as he sought entry. Your hands slid up his chest, toying with the high collar tight against the sharp slate of his jaw before you slid your fingers up. They tangled in his locks, tugging gently while he moaned into your mouth.
“Ah-” he gasped suddenly, timed with a well-placed squeeze of your hand against his cock.
It pulsed against your palm. You smiled. Fucking on Tony’s counter-top was most definatley on your 'Christmas ambiance' list. The smile fell as Loki touched your hand, pulling it gently aside. He gazed at you with narrowed eyes, a thoughtful glint sparking deep within them. His lip twitched as he straightened, towering over you. Rogue curls fell around your face, the scent of his almond and redcurrant cologne that clung to every strand making your mouth water. “I cannot be held responsible for diminishing the glimmer of Yule in that precious heart of yours,” he whispered gallantly, before clearing his throat. “I shall be back presently to right this most egregious wrong.” And in the swirl of a coat and the click of the latch, he was gone.
Tumblr media
Loki walked approximately fifteen steps before he admitted to himself that the soft leather moccasins were a bad choice.
He pulled the coat he was wearing tighter. The hem flapped against his knees as he walked. Unfortunately for Loki, he had neglected to pack alternative shoes in his pocket dimension. And furthermore, he could not abide a return to the cabin after such a flawlessly theatrical exit. A warming enchantment on his feet would have to suffice.
He walked, and he walked. And the forest grew thicker.
The god’s gaze darted between each majestic pine tree, stretching to the sky. Perfect, he mused bitterly. They’re all too perfect. If Loki had learned anything in past years about the power of this so called christ-mas, then it was that the festivities were a time for see the beauty in things oft overlooked. To celebrate that which was diminished throughout the other, more bountiful seasons. Loki could relate to that feeling. It was part of the reason he enjoyed it so much. He came to a clearing, shivering lightly as he stopped. Snow had begun to fall in silent flakes, resting atop already heaving branches. How far had he walked, he wondered. Loki looked up, closing his eyes to the bright, frozen sky. The god would never quite understand how he had found himself living happily on Midgard. In truth, how he had found himself living happily at all. It frightened him sometimes how much he saw his past-self as another. Like one of your documentaries, or a myth. Stories told as a cautionary tale with a flashlight under one’s chin in the dead of night. A fiction. And he would tell them gladly. But it was not himself of which he spoke. Not really. Not anymore. It frightened him, oh yes. Not that he would ever tell anyone that. No one but you.
But Yule is a time for honouring one’s past, he surmised. And so – the first emblem of the season he chose himself should reflect that. "Where are you?" he murmured quietly, spinning in a measured circle with his eyes closed. A flake of snow stuck to his bottom lip. He felt it melt against the warmth it found. Loki opened his eyes. He took a few steps towards the nearest tree. Tall, bushy, perfect – just like the others. But he trusted in the moment, however that worked.
His moccasins crunched, disappearing into thickening snow beneath his feet. Moisture soaked into the suede lining. The god shifted around the plump fir, pushing its branches from his path. "There you are," he whispered against the chill.
In amongst the tightly packed pine trees, sat a rather modest specimen. It was a fine tree. Noble, despite its diminutive state. A little tired. Lack of sunlight from those crowding around it had stunted its growth. Loki could see where its branches had fought for every scrap of light, twisting and adapting at strange angles. He ran his fingers gently across the vibrant spines. Plump, and luscious. None came loose. The tree was free of snow, shielded by the very branches which cramped his ascent to their level. He hummed an Asgardian chant, running his hand to the tip of the branch.
Loki waited for a response. He lowered his head, listening. It was ceremony. "This, I swear," he murmured in reverence. With the greatest care, he summoned the gentlest magic he possessed. The tree roots came away with ease, plucked from the moist soil like sponge from a greased tin. Willingly, he thought with a smile. And Loki cradled the small tree all the way back to the cabin. You were overjoyed, greeting him through the window and then at the door with a smile that would rival the brightest moon. That evening, you and he decorated the small tree with delicate ornaments. Loki was sure that he had never seen a finer Yuletide scene. And every day, in the bright winter light of the living room, and where you and Loki spent lazy nights celebrating by the warmth of the fire – that little tree grew. Love, space, freedom, faith. Loki pondered those words whenever he saw it. The god tended it every day with his magic, keeping the roots fresh in their temporarily home. And when the holiday ended, he would re-plant it. Somewhere it could continue its journey to its full potential in peace. Peace, Loki mulled as he brushed a strand of hair back from your cheekbone while you slept on his chest. Carols played. He inhaled against your hair, feeling your breaths rise and fall in time with his own. Peace.
Tumblr media
Secret Santa 2023 taglist: @joyful-enchantress @mochie85 @muddyorbs @holdmytesseract @simplyholl @lady-rose-moon @superficialdomina @cultofcarter @coldnique @give-me-a-moose @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @smolvenger @loz-3 @catsladen @acidcasualties @divine-knight-hand @glitchquake @nyxlaufeyson @fandxmslxt69 @holymultiplefandomsbatman @fictive-sl0th @smolvenger Tags (cont in comments)
@lokischambermaid @meowmeow-motherfucker @gigglingtiggerv2 @imalovernotahater @avengersalways @littledark11 @lokikissesmyforehead @thedistractedagglomeration @loopsisloops @morriggannlostinfandoms @marygoddessofmischief @xorpsbane @peacefulpianist @yelkmelk @wheredafandomat @mistress-ofmagic @ozymdias @your-taste-on-my-lips
425 notes · View notes
dolcezzatoru · 6 months
Note
Just seen your sfw & nsfw alphabet for gojo (my current obsession) and I think your grasp of his character is really good. I'm all for he's an all or nothing type. If you break through those walls he's all in. I was wondering if you could do headcanons for how he'd be if his f partner was a virgin and not very used or comfortable with being vulnerable or exposed.
hi angelcake, i wrote a lil bit of a fic instead (sorry) !! if this doesn't answer your question, shoot me another one and i'll write some delicious headcanons instead ♡ thank you for requesting, love ♡
Tumblr media
𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞?
gojo satoru x virgin f!reader
Tumblr media
“fuck, you’re so beautiful,”
satoru nips at your neck, the two of you grinding against one another on the couch. the apartment was cold, and the only light in the room was the low light of the television reflected against you and your boyfriend. it was playing some show you two stopped watching a while ago, the quiet dialogue between two characters on-screen humming behind satoru’s soft pants.
it felt good. satoru was a little needy; his hands running all over your body, pushing his own further into yours to try and be any closer than he was now.
it felt good, you thought. or it was supposed to.
anxiety started to pull you out of what was a moment of ecstasy. you became a little too aware of it all–how his body felt on yours, the way your hands rested effortlessly onto his back, how your hands were clammy, and your lips might be chapped, and your hair might be tangled, and-
“hey now,” 
satoru catches his breath and runs the back of his hand on your cheek.
“you okay?”
his voice was soft, gentle, and concerned. it was safe. he was safe.
“i’m…um-”
your voice trailed off as your eyes darted to anywhere but his face. you settled on looking down into his lap.
“sorry. yeah, i’m fine. sorry about that,” you said.
satoru shuffled a bit more to get a better look at your face. something about the light coming off of the tv made your eyes look more watery than usual. but you had a soft blush on your face, and your lips were pouted and puffy. you looked perfect. 
“we don’t have to go any further if you don’t wanna,”
“it’s okay, satoru, really,”
“have you ever…done this before, love?”
“um, sure–plenty of times,”
your lie must’ve been bad, because satoru saw right through you. he squeezed your hand in his and laughed when he answered. 
“ah, i see, i didn’t realize i was with an expert in the field”
he was joking to make you feel better, but your face definitely got hot. you looked up to see him laughing, not daring to let go of your hand as he searched for what to say next.
“oh, shut up, satoru, i don’t know,” you make a weak attempt at defending yourself, “i’m nervous,”
your honesty makes his gaze soften into yours. he finally lets go of your hand to wrap his arms around your waist, pulling you closer.
“we can go however far you want, okay?”
you nod as you feel emotions well up in your eyes.
“good to keep going, baby?”
“yeah, s’okay, satoru,”
he hums in agreement as he kisses you again, slowly working up to the pace you were at before.
it feels good. for real this time. you mean it when you think it, and you think it when you feel it. he feels good.
you stop a bit when satoru’s hand settles on the edge of your shirt, slowly lifting it. you pause as the cool air just touches the exposed skin, and satoru stops.
“is this okay?”
he’s whispering now, slowly speaking in front of your mouth as to not startle you, hurt you, or break you. simply treating you like he loves you.
you think on it for a fraction of a second, suddenly self conscious of anything you’ve ever done or been in your life.
and then you snapped back into it. satoru’s hand on your side, waiting for direction, while the other one was just underneath your jaw, holding onto your neck like he’d be lost at sea without it tethering you to him.
he was close, patient, and accepting. you figured no matter what the direction was next, he’d be okay with it. he’d listen if you were uncomfortable, if you needed to stop, if you felt self conscious; it all mattered to him in ways unexplainable. 
it’s because he did love you. he wasn’t doing these things like he loved you–it’s because already does. a lot, really. an unfathomable amount. it doesn’t matter if you wanted to fuck now or ten years down the line. it would be with you. you’d be together, and the details would just fall into place after that. he was sure of it, and you were just coming around to realizing that now.
“s’okay, satoru,”
he leaned in more to kiss you sweetly, nodding his approval for your consent as he carefully lifted your shirt off. he followed suit shortly after, taking his off with your help in solidarity. 
“god, you’re so beautiful”
this was the second time tonight he’s said that, in addition to the heaps of times the words have fallen out before today. it felt different tonight though. satoru could not be looking at you more when he said it. he said it like he was reciting a prayer–if he didn’t say those words it would kill him.
it made you bashful. you found yourself instinctively covering your exposed torso up and looking away. 
satoru took your wrists in his hand. 
you lean in to kiss him as he stands up to take off his pants, his erection suddenly obvious as his boxers try to contain it. naturally, your eyes point towards it. satoru’s quick to lift your chin to meet his line of sight.
“hey, eyes on me, sweetheart,” he smirks, “you okay?”
you’re at eye-level to his belly button, a soft white line of hair dancing down into his boxers. you hold his waist in your hands, using it to steady yourself as you rise to your feet.
“‘m okay, love, really,”
satoru kneels down to remove your pants and panties, pressing his face to your tummy to be close to you. he peppers a small parade of kisses across your waist as he gently palms your ass in his calloused hand.
he rises up to meet you again, taking your jaw in one of his hands. 
“are you still okay with this?”
his genuine care makes you melt a little, finding yourself clenching your thighs together at his sweet remarks for consent.
“mhm, please satoru, ‘m ready”
he leans in once more, kissing you a little feverishly than before, and holding your entire head in his hands as he pulls you closer to mold your body into his.
“sure, baby, just follow my lead,”
Tumblr media
517 notes · View notes
chaisshitposts · 7 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
𝐕𝐨𝐢𝐝 '𝐧 𝐕𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲
FULL DISCLAIMER.
yes the challenge name is corny, I don't care 😡 anyways, the challenge that I am about to propose does include things involving the the void, however, it is not centered around the void, because we as master manifesters are able to manifest drastically outside of it. this may be for everyone, but it's not for quitters. this is a lot to read, apologies in advance, but I recommend you read this in it's entirety anyways!
DESCRIPTION.
For this challenge, we will be combining a variety of methods to change our realities for the better, anyone can participate at any time. This challenge has no 'finish date' like other challenges, however, we will have a check-in a week after our start date to take note of progress. I do not believe that time limits should be put on things that we desire, however, it can motivate consistency and holding ourselves responsible on our goals and accountable of our own progress.
GOAL.
The main goal surrounding this challenge is shifting our mindsets towards obtaining our dream lives as well as keeping a mental diet that works in our favor. What I often find with these manifestation challenges are that folks give up too early on their goals when they see no movement in regards to their /main/ goals they are constantly seeking proof from, it's important to remember that time is simply a manmade illusion and that we are all different in various ways which is a beautiful thing we must remember. And there is always movement with our manifestations, even if we can't consciously see it.
Tumblr media
𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐏 𝐎𝐍𝐄
Just like one would do when constructing a void list, create yourself a list of things you desire, as well as affirmations you want to be true. Doesn't matter how long the list is or what words you use or what language you use. Just make a list. You can include things about your dream life, dream apartment, dream financial situations, how often you enter the void, how quickly you enter the void, self-concept, mythical things, desired appearance, any kind of revision, superpowers, supernatural events, personality changes, drastic health changes etc, whatever you like. When creating your affirmations please remember to use past tense (always/used to/ have been) or present tense (right now/currently/ right this moment/ right this second/instantly/immediately). Make your affirmations/afformations/askformations as detailed and as long as you want, your subconscious always remember each and every detail. I'd also recommend throwing in some manifestation rules for yourself.
EXAMPLES.
I love my body.
My skin is perfect in every way and will always remain perfect with everything I do.
I've always been pretty.
I always have hella money in my bank account.
Why am I so lucky?
Why do I always enter the void instantly after just thinking about it once?
Everytime I fall asleep, I always wake up in the void.
I am a master at lucid dreaming and can lucid dream whenever I want just by affirming for it once.
I love how long, shiny, and healthy my hair always is.
Everytime I breathe I get more and more handsome.
Why am I so good at manifesting?
Regardless of everything, I can manifest anything I want instantly after affirming for it three times and it instantly conforms in the 3D.
I have my dream bedroom right now with blue walls, hardwood floors, a wardrobe filled with clothes from my y2k pinterest board, my ideal gaming set up, and an LG touch flat screen TV.
I can shift realities as easily as I can breathe.
The more I obsess over my desires the faster they conform in the 3D.
Even if I have negative thoughts or doubts, I can still manifest anything I want instantly.
Everything works in my favor, the law is always on my side.
I already have my desires, every thought that affirms the opposite is an illusion.
Whatever I say works, all techniques and methods work instantly for me.
Doing nothing works, and doing everything works when it comes to manifesting.
𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐏 𝐓𝐖𝐎
Give that list a name. Any name ya want, doesn't matter. Ya could even just call it your 'Void List.' My own personal list has two names 'All That I Desire' and 'Void List'. Ya could also call it 'Dream Life,' 'I Want,' etc.
𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐏 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄
Create an affirmation that suggests you have everything on that list. Here are some examples, but do not use these to limit any other ideas you may have or what affirmations may sound most natural to you.
I have everything on [insert name list].
I manifested everything on my list instantly and easily.
I effortlessly have everything on my list.
Everytime I breathe something from my list manifests instantly.
I have my dream life.
I already have everything I want. Everything in my life is perfect.
I already have everything on [insert name list].
Regardless of everything, I have everything on [insert name list].
Isn't it wonderful?
I literally have everything on my list right now.
Everything on my list has already manifested.
My personal affirmation: Regardless of everything, I have All That I Desire.
𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐏 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑
Use Psych-K to affirm this affirmation for 10 minutes (at least), or just affirm for ten minutes without Psych-K. This can be done multiple times through each day, don't limit yourself to just a single session if you don't want to, do whatever makes you feel fulfilled. I would recommend trying to do this at least once per day.
𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐏 𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄
Outside of Psych-K or your focused affirming, I want you to use this affirmation whenever you think about anything you desire, whenever you have doubts about anything, whenever you have negative thoughts, or you can just robotically affirm this throughout the entirety of your day. It's okay to have opposing thoughts, but you need to ignore them, you cannot give them anymore attention, do not entertain them, and affirm your desires. Your umbrella affirmation is your backbone, it is your guardian angel. And if you have moments when you don't think you can stop those spiraling thoughts, take your umbrella affirmation or any other affirmation that benefits you and say it aloud with authority, over and over for 2-3 minutes. You can't say something aloud while simultaneously thinking another thing. Go RIGHT for your affirmation, we don't care about the old story anymore.
The most important thing for this step is to stop yourself from thinking the opposite of what you desire, and it's okay if you have a negative thought or two, but quickly catch yourself before you can spiral or fall back into the victim mentality. Remind yourself— no matter if you have negative thoughts, you always get what you want and everything's going to be okay. It's important to be gentle with your thoughts but also assertive when learning something new.
With robotic affirming, feelings don't matter at that time, it's simply for saturation purposes and eventually the feelings will develop on their own with robotically affirming. And if you're like me, you might just wanna flood your head with robotic affirmin' so you can stop negatives and doubts or whatever from even having the chance to come to the surface. However, if needed, feel free to affirm with authority, attitude, sass, or whatever makes you feel more powerful.
The more you repeat, the more likely you will repeat the affirmation without even realizing. I often find that robotic affirming often leads me to waking up and that affirmation is the first thought I think, that's just how saturating it can be. And with robotic affirming (affirming all damn day or at least when I remember to) and a decent mental diet, manifestations will start popping up on that very same day.
TIP: Feel free to look over your list whenever you want, as many times as you want. And if you have moments where you wanna get specific, just refer to your list and affirm that particular affirmation that you want to become true.
TIP: Just woke up? Affirm. Eating? Affirm. Have break time? Affirm. Have a moment to chill? Affirm. Taking a shower? Affirm. Using the bathroom? Affirm. Doing your make-up? Affirm. Getting dressed? Affirm. Getting ready for work/school? Affirm. Watching something you're not really paying attention to on TV? Affirm. Watching YouTube videos? Affirm. Affirm. Affirm. Affirm. Affirm.
𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐏 𝐒𝐈𝐗
(Optional) If applicable, and if you have trouble with robotic affirming or if ya just don't feel like it, try out recording your affirmation and looping it. There are multiple applications to be used such as Self-Pause and Parrot. I often do this myself using my bluetooth earbuds with the volume at a low enough level to hear them but not loud enough to distract me from other things. And because of who I am, I will often put overhead headphones over my bluetooth headphones to listen to music or audiobooks (that's a lot, ik but its like listening to subliminals but you can change what you're watching/listening to). Or you can play the looped affirmation at a very low volume on speaker from any kind of device while going about your day. And just because you're looping your affirmation in the background, it does NOT give you permission to affirm the opposite of your desires, you need to hold yourself accountable for the thoughts you are thinking. You control your thoughts, your thoughts don't control you.
If you do all of these things, monitoring your inner thoughts, and your inner conversations, you are bound to see or feel changes around you as well as inside of you, that's the law. Things change according to our own assumptions and how strict we are with our conscious thoughts. This way, not only are you simultaneously changing your thoughts about the void, but you are also manifesting what you want to change with the void in the first place simultaneously. With this in mind, you manifest outside of the void, a lot of things on your list, and when you do consciously wake up in the void, you'll be able to manifest the rest just by saying you've got everything on your list. It's foolproof with guaranteed success as long as you continue to hold yourself accountable and remain consistent.
Addressing Some Potential Doubts About The List Method or Why This Challenge 'Might' Not Work
Some of you may be wondering, how will my subconscious know what's on my list and how will it associate everything on my list with the name of the list that I give it? The subconscious remembers everything you do, even things that you don't consciously remember. It's constantly taking notes on everything that's said which is why, precisely, it's important to watch what you're thinking as well as what you're saying aloud. You know exactly what you mean when you're referencing certain things. And think of it like this, you are already aware that the void is within us, and when you're doing this challenge, you're constantly feeding this new information into the void that's already inside of you. The only thing you need to do is correct your conscious thoughts to think in favor of your desires. Also, there are various perks that come with this challenge— you're able to manifest all types of things all at once so you don't need to limit yourself to changing one thing at a time, the affirmations and desires in your list are immediately saved into your subconscious and all you have to do is repeat the umbrella affirmation you chose, whenever you feel particularly doubtful/negative about a certain subject you can easily go back to reread what affirmations you wrote OR you can just continue robotically affirming your umbrella affirmation, and finally, you are also practicing detachment from your goals because you've pretty much wrote them down, and may have consciously forgot about them, but kept affirming that everything on your list has already manifested. And yes, you may have goals you are consistently checking for in the 3D, but with this challenge you force consistency and saturation of the mind.
TIP: if you have certain affirmations on your list that involve shifting, the void, or anything like that— i.e. "If I say an affirmation 3 times in a row it instantly manifests and conforms in the 3D." Feel free to try it out during the challenge, but do NOT, I repeat, do NOT get discouraged if it does not grant your desired results immediately. Try to be unbothered and go back to affirming your umbrella affirmation. But if you can't do that and you end up having a moment where you're sad or pissed off, give yourself a second to feel that emotion and then I want you to be stubborn and go find that affirmation you want to become true and repeat it to yourself with authority for 2-3 minutes, say it aloud or in your head, whatever makes you feel it. After that, congratulate yourself for not giving up, because who knows, maybe your manifestation did manifest in the 3D but it's a little delayed and will appear later that night or even the day after.... Don't sell yourself short. If you want something badly enough, I know you are willing to do whatever it takes to get it.
TIP: Feel free to combine this with the lullaby method, SATs, mediation and anything else you can think of.
𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐂𝐋𝐔𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍.
It's okay to start this whenever you wish, but procrastination is our worst enemy, start right now. Have fun, get excited, shit's about to change in your life, I guarantee it. Make your list, choose your umbrella affirmation, affirm like a maniac, build your foundation, and make life easier on yourself. Results are guaranteed.
If you have any questions in regards to anything in this post, feel free to send in an ask, or if you want an immediate answer feel free to dm me with your questions! I will try and help the best way I can.
392 notes · View notes
mymelloii · 2 months
Text
Random Ren/Redacted HCs
---Minors/Ageless blogs DNI---
CW: Mentions of gore and stalking
_____
Ren has his eyes and mind on you 24/7, on the days you stay home so does he. Whenever you go out, whether it's with friends or to run errands he's always trailing close behind; far enough not to be noticed, but close enough to protect his angel.
-If you ever have the misfortune of coming across a creep during one of your walks, he'll promptly drag them into an ally way and give them the ass whopping of a lifetime before they can do any harm towards you. Typically he wouldn't even allow those types of people to approach you, let alone gaze at you, but on the rare occasion that someone does cat call you or even tries to touch you he'll bash their head into some good ol' concrete; without you noticing of course.
On the days you stay home are probably his favourites, he gets to watch you all day, doing your morning routine, while you busy yourself with your hobbies, or better yet watch tv/your preferred streaming service. As you lounge on your couch Ren is watches you through the camera he installed in your living room. Meticulously watching each and everyone of your reactions. Whenever you laugh so does he, if you start to cry or tear up, so will he. His emotions are practically interconnected with yours.
-His PC setup isn't anything notable, despite the fact he has 3 monitors, the first one capturing you, the one next to it being all open tabs of all your social media accounts, and the last one being work related or his screen saver of you. He has a simple wooden desk with a gaming chair, no RGB- though, he might have one of those mouse pads with a character that eerily resembles you.
Whenever he works, he loves having you on his main monitor; it truly makes him feel like your there with him. If he's alone, which is most of the time he is, he'll find himself talking to himself. Each topic of conversation is always about you, he's either commenting about how amazing you look today, or praising you for the littlest things. In his eyes everything you do is nothing less than perfection.
-Although he has a playlist of his own he loves listening to any and all of your favourite songs, doesn't matter what genre it may be he's all up on that shi. Extra points if it's romantic. He'll go on a daydream about you, imaging you, how whenever you listen to the song you can't help but to think about him and how your chest tightens up at the mere thought of him; as he feels with you. He knows every song in your playlist and all the lyrics to your favourite songs. Maybe one day you'll notice him and make a playlist just for him.
This one is less serious but as mentioned before on the 14DaysWithYou blog Ren had a red room phase. Though it was short lived I like to image that while he was selling the parts he obtained totally humanely that he often added a thank you note and one of those cute freebies you get whenever you buy from an Etsy shop. The note reading "Thank you for supporting my small business. Your patronage means everything to me! (*^_^*)" ITS SO DUMB DJKSDUVI
-In canon, he is extremely apathetic towards everyone with the exception of you. Which also makes him extremely accommodating towards your needs, he knows all your struggles even if you haven't voiced them to him yet. He accepts you and your struggles, no matter how big they may be; he'll always find a way to help you. This could be helping you with work, making or ordering special meals for you or simply listening to you vent. Whether it's mental or physical to him your health and happiness is his main priority.
Which leads me to that while he may be exceptionally caring, he's also remarkably jealous, towards everyone and everything that catches your attention. Now, he would never do anything that will harm you, but he's not above harming or black mailing others that get closer than he's comfortable with. Could be a coworker or a friend that is getting a bit too friendly with you which will enable him to scour every crevice of the internet to find any dubious rumors or photos including them. He'll also hack into their phone and go through their internet history and photos for more evidence against them. He'll then DM them through one of his burner accounts and present everything he found and threaten to leak all their information on multiple threads. Moth watch out 😨
-If the subject of your affection happens to be an animal or a stuffed animal he obviously can't go through those lengths. Although he would get jealous if he sees you cuddling with your pet instead of him he knows that the affection you feel is different and will opt to plopping himself next to you and proceed to get extremely clingy. He doesn't mind sharing you with any of your non-human companions as long as he stays yours.
_____
I haven't wrote in a while so srry if there's any run-on sentences + it's late so SPARE ME. Again these are all headcanons and if you wish to find canon content of 14DYW visit here, as well as to remember and respect the creators wishes and boundaries ^^
Side note I plan on writing more so if you have any suggestions please let me know! I haven't made a list of my do's and don'ts but please don't get offended if I don't take your suggestion!
297 notes · View notes