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#college app advice
junkdrawertales · 10 months
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HEY TEENS APPLYING FOR YOUR FIRST JOBS: scout fundraising like Girl Scout cookies and Boy Scout Christmas trees COUNTS AS SALES EXPERIENCE. Put that shit on your résumés! It also counts for leadership and team-building. Don’t put it on if you’re 30, obviously, but if a teenager shows up with six years of sales experience with a reputable organization known for turning massive profit, that’s better than a blank CV! Go for it!
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bitegore · 2 months
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god i really forgot that every business management professor specifically is the most unpleasant human being alive for no good reason. i have two business classes with like econ and accounting professors respectively and those look fine and then oh my god if i have to go back to this class with this professor i think i might actually kill myself
#red rambles#she's not. *mean*. she is. um. fucking. i think condescendiing is the word#she made us do a kahoot in class on questions we didn't know explicitly because she knew we didn't know them. i hate kahoots#she went through the syllabus like we were children which. fine whatever every professor does that it's why i hate the first class#but she also kept going off topic to give us life advice. never give me life advice ill fucking kill you#im really not sure what else was my fucking problem but i genuinely felt like i was being psychologically tortured#also i have done one of the several assignments for the class already and they're babyshit but its going to be one of my most#busywork heavy classes and she wants us doing discussion questions every fucking week#and i have to download yet another fucking app for her class#and i need it for my degree plan but oh my GOD. i need to get the fuck out of it#im gonna try and find a different session of the class taught by a different professor and switch in#do you know how much i have to hate a class if im willing to eat two entire finished homework assignments to get out of it#eta. i take it with this professor or i take it with a different professor i know and already know i cant stand#who is also going to work us like dogs unlike this prof who is going to apparently treat us like we are 14 years old#i guess its not college if i'm not being forced to experience psychological torment for an hour and a half every couple days lol#ill just have to like eat something before that class and do my best to fortify myself before i go in and turn evil
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tote-bag-study · 2 years
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how to romanticize college and other helpful tips
hey guys!!! 
this is actually an assignment for my social media class i am taking this summer, but i thought it would be a good idea to share how to romanticize college and some other college tips to go with it. 
first...dorm room ideas
i recomend making a shared pinterest board between you and your roomates (if you chose to live with others) before you guys start buying your room decor. 
you need to start the romanticization of your college experience before you even sit down in a classroom and start taking notes. make your dorm room a space you enjoy. so decorate it exactly how you want to and make the space your own. don’t be afraid to have your interests as a part of your room decor. your part of the room is a reflection of you. 
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here’s some inspo for you guys
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i really like this one lowkey
now for fashion
if you haven’t found your personal style yet (me my freshman year of college) or you have a pretty set sense of style already, you need to be aware of what the weather is like where you are going to school. i go to school in northern indiana and had to learn (as a socal girlie) that sometimes you have to give up being fashionable when it comes to crazy weather conditions like extreme heat or snow (in my case). even when you have to sacrifice for the weather you should always try to look your best in your own style while still being comfortable in your own skin. i know the sweatpants are calling your name bestie....they do that to me too....of course they are amazing to wear to stay comfy, however, they shouldn’t be an all the time thing when it comes to outfits. 
TRUST ME!!! 
when you look your best you’ll feel your best and when you feel your best you’ll do your best. save the comfy clothes for long nights studying in the library. i’ll link some pictures to give you guys some ideas
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i really like the earth tones and levi’s rn
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also crop tops and baggy jeans are really cute
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i have way more outfit ideas on my pinterest board that goes with this post
now onto school bags!!!!
this last school year i had a tendency of carrying both a backpack and a tote bag. i would keep essentials like my wallet, keys, water bottle, the book i was reading at the time, and my makeup bag in my tote bag and leave all my school stuff in my backpack. for this coming school year i found something super awesome it’s the green wellness tote by typo. this thing is GIANT and can carry everything i would carry in both my tote bag and backpack while still keeping everything organized. it has huge front pockets and a removable pouch on the inside of the bag so i can hold everything. 
i mean EVERYTHING!!!!!!!! 
i’ll drop the link in the link section of this post. 
but you can’t forget to personalize your bag. i use pins, pocket bac holders from bath and body works, and keychains to personalize my bag and put my own unique twist. trust me when i say having hand sanitizer on hand is extremely important so make sure you’re carrying yours at all times. i personally like the bath and body works hand sanitizers and the pocket bac holders for them are super cute. they actually just put their fall and halloween stuff out and i’m a fiend for that kind of stuff. 
now for some study tips
first things first you are going to college to get your degree so studying is important!! i feel like the best way to study is to make it fun for yourself. have your study spot, have a couple good playlists, noise canceling headphones, a study timer app, and get to it. i’ve found for me using apps like notion (you get the unlimited version of notion free if you use a school email) to take quick notes in class and then physically writing them out and make them as aesthetically pleasing as possible. writing pretty notes makes you want to look at them more and actually study from them. 
a study timer is extremely important!!! especially if you keep a study planner/journal like i do. it spaces out your study time and holds you responsible for your studying. i use the pomodoro method and am an active user of the forest app. if you guys want to be friends on forest i’ll put my friend code in the link section of this post. it’s honestly such a helpful tool for holding yourself accountable. if you don’t want to purchase an app there are a ton of free versions of the app out there that work just as well as forest. 
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links
wellness tote: https://cottonon.com/US/wellness-tote-bag/1684455-04.html?dwvar_1684455-04_color=1684455-04&cgid=tote-bags&originalPid=1684455-04#start=4&sz=60
pinterest for this post: https://www.pinterest.com/rossejamss/get-into-it-yuh-college-edition/
study playlist 1: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/35MCxZePcfFVSBzlvDRynv?si=01af4965047344a4
study playlist 2: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3vCbBiJYlVROLcrbLypgUZ?si=2dd3ac8e5e2f463f
study playlist 3: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0T2AhgtKGHzyZ3qjTWdSBg?si=260eefe677b9498e
forest friend code: 6H4PQVYSG
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the-village-dunce · 9 months
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found a twenty on the floor today
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mzashleypie · 2 years
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Hey! I read your college advice post and noticed that you graduated from UT Austin, which has been my dream school since I can remember. I’m about to be a senior and I was hoping if you could give some tips on how to write a good college essay for UT?
Hey! This is going to get rambly so I apologize now lol.
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First things first, I was ranked 11 in a class of 600 and therefore in the top 7 and 10 percent of my class and was automatically accepted to UT. From what I've heard, they quite literally might've put my application in an accepted pile without reading any of my essays or extracurriculars.
Next, I was a very dreamy high schooler and wanted to go to the Ivy League and become some CDC researcher developing vaccines (this is a way more insane thing to say in 2022 than it was in 2014), but what did I choose to write about in my essay? The school library. I was called my library's mascot. I got to school every morning 2 hours before class to do homework and wait for the library to open. I worked in our "bistro" which was a stockroom where we sold coffee and did homework while I hung out with my friends. I had a stack of mugs and repaired my textbooks in the workroom. My librarian was like a second mother. I was in book club and anime club in the afternoons and decorated with the students for the holidays. I wrote the coziest vignette of community and home that I knew.
At the time, I didn't know that this is exactly what I was looking for in college. I wanted to be surrounded by people I didn't necessarily call friends, but just people who knew what it was like to be one of those in-between kids who didn't do sports, or band, or theatre, but loved to be consumed by stories. I applied to UT as a Biology major with a focus in microbiology and was accepted. I would graduate UT 4 years later as an English major with a certificate in Creative Writing with a focus in Poetry, but I feel like that conclusion would probably make much more sense than biology to anyone who read my essay.
I hope you write with passion and honesty on whatever your topic is and get in with the major you want!
And if you don't trust me, my fave May Gao does essay reviewing cheap or free for less advantaged students: https://www.collabadvising.com/essays
Going to add more about UT below, I swear I loved it, there's just a lot wrong with the way most schools work and I don't want you going in completely blind.
NOTES ON UT
Freshman classes are designed to weed people out of in-demand majors (CRUEL!!! but I was told this on multiple occasions faculty). Intro classes are notoriously difficult for calculus, biology, chemistry, and organic chemistry. You will probably fail your first test. It's okay (my roommate was our high school valedictorian and failed our first chem test and cried all night). I got back to back 32, 33, and 76 on chem tests and barely passed with a D. I survived. Fun Fact: former VP of the school got exclusively Cs in his intro classes.
Pick the major you want the most BUT if you are unsure or may want to double major, choose the major that is the most selective. This includes Comp Sci, any of the communications school, the business school, and engineering. These majors are extremely hard to once you are in and attempt to do an internal transfer. When I was trying to transfer into Moody for film, they told me they only accept 1 internal transfer A YEAR.
This school is a class divide. Coming from a working-class Hispanic family and from a not great public high school, I was absolutely broken by the amount of people with summer houses, no debt, loans, or work-study, who studied abroad multiple semesters, went out every night or even every weekend. If you are not White, Indian, or Asian, you will have to be active to find your people. There are tons of culture groups and clubs, but it's jarring when most of your classes are homogenous just because of who actually gets into UT.
Best of luck and feel free to message me here, twitter, or instagram if you have any other questions!
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tahdashi · 2 years
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how do i tell my parents that my bf wants to go on a trip for winter break 👍👍👍👍👍👍 and that i probably won’t come home until next year 👍👍👍👍👍 um !
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shcherbatskya · 2 years
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I don't mean to like...chime in on ur education also im not american so take me with a pinch of salt but. Your degree is gonna be specialised. Take classes you love to set yourself up for a degree you love. I spent like three years taking classes i hated bc my school told us we had to take loads of shit in maths/science and i just. Didn't thrive. If i'd taken the classes i wanted i'd have been more academically succesful and happy. And frankly had better prep for my degree. Don't listen to anyone who tells u not to pursue shit you love. Idk if you wanted another voice but yeah . As someone who was once in your position. Do what you love and end up in the right place by virtue of passion. ok. Best wishes <3
thank you sooo much hearing from someone who has experience with this stuff is really comforting so ty <3 i think it’s sort of drilled into your head from like. elementary school that you need to be Good In Everything ? and it’s sort of. a process to unlearn that and sort of just accept that i don’t need to be doing everything all at once? but yeah i really appreciate the input ty <3
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icarusgf · 2 years
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juniors get to suffer the way we did this year. idk about your school but for mine, the juniors deserve it they’re so annoying and snobby
i don't think i think of them as a group as annoying and snobby 😭 but there r def underclassmen that feel wayyy too entitled to leadership positions/admissions to certain colleges and i hope they get humbled 😁
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Single but in love
I still like someone that I met while I was in college nearly 10 years ago. They are single too, last we spoke. Through the years, I have never met anyone else who has made me feel the way I do around this person. I know I'm hanging on too much, and far too long. We see each other occasionally when I'm in town visiting relatives. I have tried my hardest to move forward, but I have never been in a relationship in my entire teen and adult life. I'm on many dating apps and I do message people I'd like to chat with more, in hopes of an in person interaction. I have not been on more than one date with the same person.
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love-emy · 1 year
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i had two friendship breakups in the span of like a week this last month and I ranted to my notes app
what if i posted it on here? i would change the names and everything but would yall be interested in reading it?
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ikiprian · 24 days
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Barbara Gordon's Coding & Computer Cram School is a popular YouTube series. Tucker Foley is a star student.
Barbara Gordon's Cram School posts free online courses for both coding and computer engineering. Think Crash Course in terms of entertainment, but college lecture in terms of depth. Hundreds of thousands of viewers flock to it— students who missed a class, people looking to add new skills to a resume, even simple hobbyists. It’s a project Barbara’s proud of.
Sometimes, when she wants to relax, she’ll even hop in the comments and spend an afternoon troubleshooting a viewer’s project with them.
User “Fryer-Tuck” has especially interesting ones. Barbara finds herself seeking out his comments, checking in on whatever this crazy kid is making next. An app for collecting GPS pings and assembling them on a map in real-time, an algorithm that connects geographic points to predict something’s movement taking a hundred other variables into account, simplified versions of incredibly complex homemade programs so they can run on incredibly limited CPU’s.
(Barbara wants to buy the kid a PC. It seems he’s got natural talent, but he keeps making reference to a PDA. Talk about 90’s! This guy’s hardware probably predates his birth.)
She chats with him more and more, switching to less public PM threads, and eventually, he opens up. His latest project, though, is not something Barbara has personal experience with.
FT: so if you found, hypothetically, a mysterious glowing substance that affects tech in weird and wacky ways that could totally have potential but might be vaguely sentient/otherworldly…. what would you do and how would you experiment with it. safely, of course. and hypothetically
BG: I’d make sure all my tests were in disposable devices and quarantined programs to keep it from infecting my important stuff. Dare I ask… how weird and wacky is it?
FT: uhhh. theoretically, a person composed of this substance once used it to enter a video game. like physical body, into the computer, onto the screen? moving around and talking and fighting enemies within the game?
FT: its been experimented with before, but not on any tech with a brain. just basic shields and blasters and stuff, its an energy source. also was put in a car once
FT: i wanna see how it affects software, yk? bc i already know it can. mess around and see how far i can push it
BG: […]
FT: … barbara?
BG: Sorry, thinking. Would you mind sharing more details? You said “blasters?”
Honestly. Kid genius with access to some truly wacky materials and even wackier weapons, she needs to start a file on him before he full sends to either hero or villain.
[OR: Tucker is a self-taught hacker, but if he were to credit a teacher, he'd name Barbara Gordon's Coding & Computer Cram School! He's even caught the attention of Dr. Gordon herself. She's full of sage advice, and with how she preaches the value of a good VPN, he's sure she's not pro-government. Maybe she'll help him as he studies the many applications of ecto-tech!]
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tieronecrush · 1 month
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BNBG (brand new baby girl)
frankie morales x curvy OF/cam girl f!reader
summary: frankie has been needing distractions from a hurdle in his sobriety, so he ventures to his frequented subscription service platform to take his mind off things. he sees the title of your page, intrigued immediately, and dives deep into your content. catching your attention on a livestream with his confident commands, frankie becomes infatuated with you and an avid viewer before he decides to DM you one day...and then ends up with a brand new baby girl.
wc: 11k
rating: E (very)
warnings: daddy kink!! **cover does not depict anything about the reader, simply vibes of softness**, vague descriptions of reader's body (plush, thick, curves, soft, etc. no definite descriptors used otherwise. picture her as you want but she is mid to plus size in my head 🫶), no age specified (only that reader started out of college, no specifications of when she went to school), discussions of addiction & drug use, childless frankie au, sex work, sex livestream, consumption of porn, unestablished relationship, online relationship, pet names (conejita, baby, babygirl, pequeña, bunny, etc.), gratuitous descriptions of frankie's dick, SMUT, male masturbation, female masterbation, sex toys, both frankie & reader have thoughts about the other (unprotected piv, fingering, oral, etc.), major dirty talk, d/s dynamics, some fluff sprinkled in <3, this might be lowkey problematic that frankie uses porn to cope (esp reader's porn) buuuuut hopefully it's hot
a/n: cover design & dividers by me 💋 this is an unhinged daydream of mine, hope y'all enjoy! huge thank you to my besties @kiwisbell and @northernbluess for beta-reading 💓
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The time on Frankie’s phone screen turns over to well past midnight. Bedroom pitched black save for the blue light illuminating his face as he scrolls on Instagram, unable to fall asleep from thoughts stirring. He wants to scratch the itch — to pick at the scab that’s been growing in his brain for over a year. Temptation runs hot in his veins. A craving, deep in his gut. A strong inhale or the rub of his fingertip against his gums. It would be fast.  And it would only last less than half an hour — he could manage it one more time, he was sober enough for that, wasn’t he? He indulges himself in other aspects now: drinking, food, lax with his once regimented workout routine.
Frankie can hear the voice of his sponsor, the one he listens to speak at his weekly meetings in the musty church hall. Sure, his sponsor’s got valuable advice for him, having been sober for decades now, but he can’t relate to Frankie. Not really. He doesn’t know the level of temptation he’s consistently faced with, doesn’t know the fucked up shit he’s seen that got him into the substance in the first place.
His sponsor tells him to get into meditation. That it helps him turn his brain off when he has a craving, redirecting the energy into himself and crushing the aching want for it. Or some spiritual bullshit that Frankie doesn’t understand.
And besides, he’s found his own means of meditation.
Exiting the social media app, he opens his browser and types in the website. The light of the phone illuminates his face enough for his saved login to work, bringing him into his plane of piety. Where he escapes at least three times a week, late nights like now and the occasional mid-afternoon or morning on his desperate days off. When the urge is too strong. When he’s formulating a plan of how to get his hands on a tiny baggie, he loses himself — distracts his brain here.
Scrolling through his usual subscriptions, nothing seems to be hitting the spot. One hand grips his phone, thumb gliding along the screen, while the other cups his hard-on through his boxers, palming himself as he searches for something to get off to.
That’s when he sees it — the perfect combination of words that draws him in by the title. Clicking the page, he’s quick to pledge his monthly amount, eager to get access to all that lies beyond the paywall. And what he’s greeted with, pulls a sigh from his lips in the quiet room, his large hand squeezing his cock through the thin fabric elasticated around his waist. 
“Fuck…” he mumbles to himself when he sees that there’s a live stream happening. A cosmic intervention for him, he thinks, a sign that he’s meant to satiate his vices with this.
With you.
The screen changes to a vertical view of you in front of the camera, iPhone seemingly propped up against something while you sit on your mattress. It’s so…delicate and soft. Those are the words he can think of to describe the backdrop that he takes in quickly. Billowing white comforter on your bed, pillows surrounding you. The first thought he has is that it looks like a bed he could easily sleep in — much more inviting than his. There are touches of blush pink, sky blue, and more. A complete rainbow of desaturated colors.
It all compliments you. Centered in the frame, the next sound you make drags his eyes back to your form as you move around. Another squeeze to his cock draws a longer sigh from his lips as he combs across the view of your body, scantily clad in a thong and a bra covered in cherries. The cups of the bra push up the weight of your breasts, spilling over the edge. His tongue runs across his lips to wet them, a new craving ravaging his mouth as he wonders what you would taste like with the skin of your tits dampened by his saliva.
The rest of your body is as softly lined and curving as your chest, waist swooping into your hips as you sit on your knees in front of the camera. Thick thighs spread with the press of your calves into the back of them, the inside of them meeting at the apex and providing cover for what he so badly wants to be shown. There’s a line of your stomach above the waist of your panties, supple skin glistening. Delicious, is all he can think to himself. You look so fucking delicious that it floods his mouth with saliva, enough that he feels the overwhelming need to push his boxers down, freeing his hard cock to rest against his stomach until he’s spitting into his palm and starting a slow, languid pace.
The grain of his palm drags against the length of his cock as he keeps a steady flick of his wrist. Not too fast, but not achingly slow. Enough to start stoking the burning coals in the pit of his stomach as he watches you on the small rectangular screen. Puffs of hot air leave his mouth, his jaw hanging open while he watches you shift to reach for something out of frame, the first look at your ass gifted to him. Rounded swell of curves with the fabric of your thong dipping between them. The slight jiggle of your cheeks makes Frankie moan quietly, taking the briefest moment to picture that same ripple in your skin from him fucking you from behind.
“Shit…” he grumbles under his breath, minorly increasing the pressure of his grip to squeeze his cock as his hand moves, desperate to mimic the feeling of someone — apparently you, despite not knowing anything close to your name.
Skin on skin catches on the base of his dick and he exhales sharply with his teeth bared, opening his palm to spit once again. It’s not enough, but he continues the slide of his wrist as he sets his phone down on the mattress briefly, reaching over to his nightstand, pausing once again to dispense a pump of lotion into the palm of his right hand. Wrapping the moistened hand around his cock again, he starts a faster pace before slowing down to drag out his pleasure longer.
Returning into the frame fully, he sees your face for the first time and coughs as his open-mouthed inhale seizes in his throat. His fingers circle the base of his cock, squeezing hard as he takes in your face. Perfectly primped with a layer of makeup, but he can tell you’ve got the kind of beauty that wouldn’t ever need changing or enhancing — effortless. Velvety skin, as silky as the rest of your body but with an added glow. Bright eyes that are shining with mischief and want, and a smirk that’s as playful; he finds himself shutting his eyes again, for a few lazy strokes as he pictures that face, and your plush, pliable body, on your knees in front of him. Eagerly awaiting his cock to fill your mouth.
Fuck, you’re really doing a number on him tonight. He needed this. His desperation for a high of any kind coats his open mouth with each labored breath.
Focused back on his phone, you show off the treasure that you dug for off-camera. A lilac vibrator, one that fits the length of your hand, with a swell of size rounded off at the tip and tapered in at the end. Leaning closer to your camera, Frankie groans when your tits bounce, spilling out of your bra with a tiny nip slip that he catches immediately. And it only makes him want to see more.
“Mm, c’mon, pretty girl, show me something here. M’fuckin’ dying…Necesito la distracción (I need the distraction),” Frankie speaks toward the screen, feeling pathetic as he barters with you in the one-way system.
As if you heard his pleas, you adjust your position, laying back on the mountain of pillows to prop yourself up and letting one leg fall open. Even in the lowered lighting of the room you’re in, presumably your bedroom, he can make out the wet patch covering your folds. He finds himself wondering if the act of getting off in front of a camera, in front of people watching live, is what gets you wet. Or if you have a fluffer like he’s heard they do in porn.
He’d wanna be your fluffer.
Or maybe he’d want to be the one to fuck you in the porno. At least both of you’d get to finish then.
“Think I need someone who knows better than me to tell me what they wanna see.” Your voice is saccharine, the slight fry in your voice jolts his hips into his hand, mumbles of curses slipping from his lips. “Anybody have any suggestions for me, chat?”
A low hum starts when you press the button of the vibrator in your hand, spreading your knees further to open your core to the view of the camera completely. Your opposite hand to the toy hooks into the crotch of your thong, pulling the small bit of fabric, practically a string with the amount it’s covering.
Frankie’s mouth waters as the speed of his hand picks up, the grip of his fingers not nearly as satisfying as the clench of a pussy, but he’ll make do. He has been for a year; you know what they say, no relationships for the first year sober. That, and he couldn’t find anyone that could take his mind off of coke long enough for him to get it up. So eventually he just let it be.
Now, though, he’s painfully hard. The quick movements of his hand send a shock of pleasure up to his brain, veins contracting with the extra effort to keep the blood supply to his cock. Thumb brushes over his tip, mixing in his precum with the other lubrication, a hiss from behind his teeth shot out from the stimulation. His gaze is glued onto his rectangular screen, huffing out deep breaths while you press the vibrator against your clit. There’s a quiver in your thighs that he notices, as if this is your first touch after teasing yourself, or someone else teasing you. Sensitive already.
Biting your lip, your eyes scan the screen as you read aloud, “FiveFingersAtFreddys said ‘Take your bra off please.’ Well, actually he said ‘Take your tits out’ but I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt, dude, and say that you actually do have good manners.”
He laughs, and it’s a first for him. Laughing at someone’s jokes as he jerks off, alone.
You comply with the request, taking the vibrator away from your clit to reach around and unclasp your bra. Tossing the material aside, you lean back into the pillows again and the next sight nearly makes Frankie come right then and there until he takes his hand away completely. Laid out, legs open and fingers pulling your panties aside, vibrator pushing into your clit and driving a high-pitched moan from your lips. All while you're bare from the waist up, cushioned torso melting into your heavy tits, pert nipples bringing them to a point. The form of a Greek classics statue, one with fleshy outlines carved impeccably from marble.
“La obra maestra (A masterpiece)…” Frankie whispers to himself, the squelch of his lotioned hand working his hard length bringing him back into his body, a moan slipping from his mouth.
“I think I need someone else to tell me how I should play with myself. M’so wet, jus’ wanna touch myself but I don’t know where to start. All seems like—like it’s going to feel so good,” you stutter out when your hips buck against the vibrator, a whimper echoing from your chest as you turn your attention to the chat again, awaiting intriguing instructions.
Maybe it’s sexual frustration, maybe it’s pathetic. Maybe it’s the intense fucking craving to replace his need for coke high with a need for an orgasm, but for whatever reason chosen, Frankie finds himself clicking on the comment box with his thumb, typing wildly with one finger. He takes a second to read it for spelling errors before he presses send. Too lost in it all now to care.
Your eyes perk up, smirk growing on your face when you read the influx of chat replies. One must have caught your eye because the vibrator is being left to the side again. Fingers hook into the waist of your panties, slowly pulling them off as you read aloud the comment that caught your attention.
“There’s a new name I see here…Maybe we should do what you want, Mr. FlyingFish. Consider it a welcome gift from me to you.” His heart is pounding in his chest, hand gripping tighter and twisting around his dick as he fucks his fist, mumbles of curses spilling out as he listens to you repeat what he desperately typed not a minute prior. It sounds dirtier coming from you, despite his best efforts at politeness, “You said ‘Please show off how many of your little fingers fit into your pretty pussy. Think a pretty girl like you deserves to fuck her fingers…’ Alright, FlyingFish, you’ve got me blushin’ from that request and that is difficult to do, sir. Thank you for calling me a pretty girl. I promise I’m smart, too. I’ll be sure to count ‘em for you.”
One finger slips into your dripping entrance easily, the other hand reaching for the vibrator and replacing it at your clit while your finger starts to fuck shallowly, “One finger…”
Whines of frustration crack over his small speakers before a bigger moan falls from your lips, a second finger slid into you alongside the first, “Oh, fuck…That’s two. Mm, how am I doin’? FlyingFish, d’you think I can get another?”
Frankie’s wrist flicks rapidly now, the direct address to him driving him mad as the sounds of his arm slapping against his stomach and thigh clap in his room and cut into the sounds your pussy is making as you get yourself off. He types as quickly as he can, strings of curses flowing from his mouth as the heat of his desire burns red hot inside of him. He’s so fucking close but he wants to watch you fall apart at the same time. Wants to be the reason you come.
“Oh, shit—you’ve got a mouth, FlyingFish. ‘I’d hope you can take another, otherwise, you couldn’t take my cock.’ Is that a promise, Fish? You saying you got a big dick for me to take?” 
You whimper and he’s edging himself, squeezing hard to stay together when you inadvertently use his call sign. The closest thing you have to his name, and all he can think about is you screaming it while he’s fucking you. He wants to tell you it’s a promise only if you follow through, indulging in the fantasy of actually getting to touch you only for a moment. But instead, his attention is completely drawn to a third finger stretching your cunt in full view of the camera, your wanton moans popping in his speakers and driving his forearm to burn with the strain of muscle as he attempts to fist his cock even harder.
“Fuckfuckfuck…Come for me, baby, please fucking come on those fingers,” he begs no one but himself, a blinding white heat licking the entire inside of his body as he balances on the edge. Waiting for you to fall first.
“Oh my god, fuck…” The last word is drawn out, pitching up at the end as your fingers fuck faster, squelching sounds of your wetness flooding his mouth as his brain pleads for a taste of your cunt. “I don’t think—I don’t think I can get a fourth. M’gonna fucking come—ah! Oh, fuck me, Fish…”
You barely whisper his name, or at least what is his name to you, but it’s singlehandedly what punches out his guttural moan, ropes of warm, sticking spend coating his hand as he keeps moving and spilling onto his stomach. It’s prolonged, the tension in his calves relaxing after he spills the most come he has in a while.
Airy, light, a rush of blood back to his head has his whole body tingling with a high. Satiating his cravings from earlier, dissolving the want, the need, for anything of the sort. Instead, it’s replaced with thoughts of you — the image of you laying fucked out on his phone, adding his own touch of imagination when he closes his eyes to see you as you are but covered with his come the same way he is. Normally, this is when the smallest bit of shame crawls up his spine and sits at the nape of his neck, but instead, he melts into warmth. Faced with your smile as you sit up and lean over toward the camera again, laughing to yourself as you end the live.
“Um, if you’re still here, thanks for that FlyingFish. Felt fucking good…And to everyone else, I’ll stream again on Monday night, same time as always. Night, everyone. Have a good weekend.” All he hears before the sound cuts out is your excited giggles, the brightness of your post-orgasm joy stretching a smile across your face. He’s faced with a black screen, staring back at himself in the reflection with the shit-eating, smug grin he has on his face.
Now he’s got plans for Monday night.
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Frankie hasn’t been able to get you out of his head. He’s hooked. Images of your sloping curves flash behind his eyes on the days when you’re not available to watch, his hips fucking his fist in bed, the shower, even on his couch with the blinds all open because he was that needy. Thoughts of you replaced his thoughts of the white powder, chasing after the different high he’s gifted by your voice, your body — all through a screen.
He’s caught himself rasping affections as he pictures you, hissed compliments as he comes and imagining what he’d say if you were in front of him. Letting him use your mouth or your cunt. He’s even gotten into a habit of imagining his head between your legs; the hardest he came is the one time he pictured you sitting on his face and all of the pretty sounds you’d make for him. Fuck, cariño, that’s so good. Mm, bonita, you’re such a good girl. Love doin’ what you’re told, don’t you, baby?
The fact that he doesn’t even know your name but is this infatuated isn’t lost on him. He knows he has an addictive personality, but this feels different. Like he was meant to find you for some reason. His sponsor would tell him it’s a call from the universe that this is all part of his ‘journey to sobriety’, but really, he just thinks that you’re fucking hot. And the tiniest part of him thinks you might like him watching too, even though you have no idea who he is.
Each time he watches you live, his thumb taps across the keyboard, responding to your requests and even adding in some encouragement. Virtually having conversations with you, he quickly became a frequent flyer (your joke, not his). You listen to him. Like the sweet girl that you are. Taking his suggestions — his demands when you beg — and showing off for him, a whimpering mess when he’s done with you.
At times, it feels like he’s the only one watching, or at least the only one that matters to you. With the amount of times his username falls from your lips, it’s easy to fall into a bubble of you and him. You’ve picked up the habit of referring to him as ‘Fish’ and it’s driven him mad, the closest thing to his name that he’ll hear you say. You give him material to think back about for days after. I love a man that knows what he wants, Fish. You can boss me around, Fishie. I always know what you tell me to do is gonna feel so fucking good.
All of this over the last few weeks has built up his courage, which is why he finds himself sitting on his couch with your profile open, the sun barely set outside. A random baseball game plays on his TV, but his focus is completely on his phone, writing and deleting a DM to you about ten times.
It has to be right. Friendly, but not stalker-ish. Flirty, but not creepy. Commanding enough to get your attention among what he imagines are countless messages in your inbox.
After another good ten minutes drafting a message, his thumb hovers over the ‘Send’ button for a few seconds. Squeezing his eyes closed, he lowers his finger and hits the button, anxiety washing over him as he opens his eyes to stare at the blue bubble.
No going back now.
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Standing at the stove, water boils over the side of the pot while you pour in the uncooked pasta noodles. A few drops hit your skin, mumbles of curses leaving your lips, “Fucking shit!”
You stir the pasta before reaching for the nearest kitchen towel to wipe the once-scalding water off of your hand. A deep sigh exhales, relaxing your shoulders as the ding of a notification draws your attention to your phone lying on the marble countertop next to you.
What you find on your lock screen sends a shock of excitement down your spine, the warmth of anticipation radiating around your body to tingle your fingers and toes.
[Direct Message:] FlyingFish
Quick to swipe up, the device unlocks with a scan of your face and opens a new notification when you click on it with your thumb. Subconsciously, your opposite thumb has ended up between your teeth, biting down on the skin as you hold back an eager grin while you wait for his message to load.
You’ve never had this reaction to a message before, actually, it was usually the opposite. Rolling your eyes, ignoring the men until the last moment. Only responding to keep them enticed and subscribed — all of which keeps more money in your pocket. That’s really why you started this whole thing anyway.
FlyingFish:
Hey
A puff of air exhales through your nose, a chuckle cutting the otherwise silent kitchen. Shaking your head to yourself, you can’t help but smile at your screen. Heartbeat fluttering, you internally kick yourself for having such a reaction to such a simple message. Not even knowing who this person is, you find yourself typing back a response.
Hey there Fish
Guess I never actually asked if I could call you that
You turn back to your task at hand, continuing to cook your dinner and attempting to put out of your mind all of your assumptions about this person messaging you. You’d guess it’s a guy, an educated inference based on the demographics of your audience, but everything else is a complete mystery. The one time he insinuated he had a big dick stuck in your mind, and based on his behavior, you’d like to assume he isn’t lying. An image of a man sticks out to you each time you whimper his nickname, on camera and that handful of times off camera and alone: tall, solid, and strong. Brunette, only because that’s your type. Rough hands and commanding touches. Someone to bend your stubborn will into submission. He’s confident, at least through the chat, and he seems to know what he’s talking about. Each time you see his username pop up, you can feel yourself start to get wetter. Since you started this whole gig, there hasn’t been anyone quite like him. It’s always people asking for more for them — Show us your tits. Say my name. Turn around so we can see your ass.
But with him, it’s the opposite. He asks for more for you, which you guess is what he gets off to, not that you mind. Bet one more finger would feel even better for you, baby. Curl your fingers, cariño. You reaching that special spot? Gotta get deeper for me, baby. Rub slower, drag it out. Promise it’ll be even sweeter at the end. 
Always polite but stern in his demands. Never too much, mostly not enough for your taste. He’s built up an appetite in you that you haven’t had before, a desire to please and to be good for him. All of it doesn’t feel like performing when he’s telling you what to do, it feels like he’s there, deep rasp in your ears as you picture thick fingers in place of yours and tight grips on your plush curves. Fingerprint-shaped bruises left behind and sore muscles in your thighs from holding yourself up as he asks you to come for him over and over and over.
A vibration against the hard surface of the countertop refocuses your gaze from a thousand yards away. Turning to grab your cell, you rub your thighs together in hopes of relenting the ache between them from your daydreams. Wet panties get caught in your folds, discomfort only momentary before you lean over the counter and open your legs, reading the mystery man’s response.
You can call me anything you want bonita
But I will tell you that Fish is pretty close to my name
Fish is close to your name?
What is it? Bass? Salmon? Trout?
Funny
Fish is short for Catfish which was my call sign with my Special Ops team
Ahhh a military man. You know I like a man in uniform
Oh really? :)
Don’t wear it anymore but does it still count if I was once a man in uniform?
Hmm
:( please?
I wanna be liked by you
Showing your cards there Fishie
Not trying to play it cool?
Once you get to know me baby you’ll come to find out that me and cool don’t really go together.
I doubt that’s true
So Catfish is your call sign? Who came up with that?
My buddies on my team
Said I couldn’t grow a beard for shit and that it looked like I had whiskers
So Catfish
Well I don’t wanna call you Fish if it’s mean like that :(
What’s your real name? If you wanna tell me
Are you gonna sell my identity and let someone tank my credit score?
Never
It wouldn’t benefit me much if your card gets declined every month
I appreciate the honesty baby haha
My name’s Frankie
I like your name Frankie :)
It’s nearly an hour of messaging back and forth, flirting intermingled with genuine curiosity about the other’s life, history and background. Frankie learns that you were struggling to find a job straight out of university and needed to make rent, so you figured it couldn’t hurt to try out selling content. You detailed briefly the time that you grew your following, telling him about your Instagram too, which he follows in that instant. The notification makes you laugh and you follow him back despite the profile being completely empty of any information besides his name. Not even a profile picture. He learns that you don’t speak much to your parents anymore, that your siblings live across the country so you don’t get to see them much.
He tells you about his family — no siblings, parents that live in another part of the state and refuse to visit him in the city — and his chosen family, the Special Ops guys. Laughter hiccups from your chest when he recalls a few of the better stories from them, telling you about each other them as if he was preparing you to actually meet them. He has that thought, briefly, about all of you out for drinks. How they would probably like you as much as he does; your charm and sincerity would hook them all just as it has for him. Frankie tells you all about his current hobby, fixing up an old, cherry red 1978 Jeep Cherokee. How the only other time he spends online is searching for car parts, watching Youtube as he works on the vehicle in his garage.
You make a cheeky comment that he must be good with his hands before sending another message immediately:
Would you wanna actually talk? Like on Facetime maybe
Frankie stares at the message, blinking slowly as if it will disappear. You’re asking to talk to him? Shouldn’t it be the other way around? I mean, if he knew that was an option he would have asked himself…
He wouldn’t and he knows he wouldn’t based on the way his stomach has dropped to his feet, his hands have gone clammy and his throat tightened. Swallowing hard, he whispers a small pep talk to himself to work up the nerve to say yes. He wants to see you, he always wants to see more of you, but the fact that you’d see him as well…he can’t cope.
Heat trickles across the back of his neck and up his cheeks, thumbs hovering over the keyboard as his brain completely wipes any thought to respond. Dropping his phone into his lap, both of his hands reach up, one grabbing the brim of his cap and lifting it from his head while the other runs through his hair to push it back away from his face. In the corner of his eye, he catches his left knee bouncing. Lips press together in a thin line, rolling the flesh between his teeth before he picks up his phone again and sends a message back to you with just his phone number.
Not even a minute later, his screen lights up with a list of digits strung together in an unfamiliar order. As if it were possible, he felt his stomach drop lower than his feet, deep into the ground below and burrowing away along with his confidence.
Shit, this was a stupid idea. He’s going to make a fool of himself and you’ll lose interest and he’ll have to think about you every day for the rest of his life and wonder what you’re doing, how you’re doing, even what your name is—
Fuck, he’s gonna miss the call.
Frankie decides that it is much more embarrassing to miss the call he just sent his phone number for than to potentially come off as uncool, so his finger swipes to the right to answer. Quickly, he turns off his camera before you notice, opting for the level of anonymity to remain.
“Hi, Frankie…” Your candied voice drips with sweetness around his name. He’s been imagining you saying it, trying to get it right in his mind over the past few weeks, but hearing it now he relishes in the fact that none of them were right. None of them sounded like spun sugar, like it did just now.
You fill the frame from your shoulders up, the same bright smile on your face that he’s seen at the end of each live, after he’s had his fun with you, but looking completely different out of that context. It’s a bit shy, demure in the way you're resting in your bed against your pillows, t-shirt on and fresh-faced. You look beautiful. And it makes him feel a bit silly that you can’t see his reaction.
“Hey, bonita. M’sorry I don’t have my camera on, jus’ nervous. Didn’t want you to hang up right away gettin’ a look at this mug,” he says with self-deprecating laughter at the end, watching as your brows knit together with a pout on your lips.
“You don’t have to apologize, Frankie. M’happy to do whatever you’re comfortable with. Besides, if your voice gives me any indication of your looks, you’d probably be making me way more nervous.” Teeth bite into your bottom lip as you hold in a grin, a hand coming into view to nudge at your nose. He’s seen you do it a few times on live, whenever you’re waiting in anticipation. For him, he’d like to think.
“Oh, yeah? Why’s that?” he teases, the smirk playing at his face evident in his flirty tone.
“You jus’ sound…nice.���
“Nice? That’s all? Why would that make you nervous, baby?”
A sigh slips from your lips, rolling your head back as he hears the smallest whine from you. His cock jumps in his sweats, already half hard from the flirty back and forth in your messages.
“God, you’re going to be a problem with all those pet names,” you say exasperated. Frankie laughs at his screen, feeling like an idiot sitting here alone and smiling like a fool. You’re cute when you’re mad.
“You can tell me your name and I can use that instead?” he propositions, licking his lips as he awaits the piece of information he’s been chomping at the bit to have.
“No! I mean, I’ll tell you my name, but…I like the nicknames. Keep them. Please.” Your words scramble out and it makes him grin wider, witnessing you as nervous as he’s feeling. When you give him your name, he repeats it a few times, rolling it around in his mouth, tasting the syllables on his tongue. Delicate, floral, sweet but a slight tang. Smooth as it rolls across his vocal cords, soothing the rising heat he’s feeling with a refreshing chill. Like peaches and cream.
The two of you chat back and forth for a while, pride swelling in his chest when you laugh at his stupid jokes or give him a compliment, despite being none-the-wiser to his looks. He’s quick to make you blush with his comments, telling you how beautiful he thinks you are. And Frankie’s thanking himself for keeping his camera off, because at times during the call, his eyes drift to your chest, blatantly staring at your perked up nipples through the thin fabric of your t-shirt. It grows his hard on, the softness of your breasts bouncing around as you restlessly squirm during the call enticing him to picture getting his mouth on them. He’d guess you’d taste the same as your name.
The next time you move, he watches your chest again before a sight in the background catches his eye, drawing a chuckle from his mouth. A stuffed bunny lays next to you in your bed, messy with age and love. A soft pink color with a red ribbon tied around its neck, he finds the need to ask about it prodding in his mind.
“Is that who films everything for you?” he jokes, watching your face twist with confusion before looking to your side and bursting out in a laugh. Returning your eyes to the camera, you shake your head timidly.
“No, unfortunately he’s pretty limited to cuddling.”
“He? Didn’t know you had a man in your life, baby. Feels like we shouldn’t be talking like this in front of him.” The sound of your laughter quickens his pulse, the melody trilling in his ears with comfort.
“Well, I guess if you could offer me more than cuddling, he could be demoted.”
“I think I can offer more, Conejita.” Frankie watches as something akin to excitement, but burning brighter, flashes in your eyes. You sit up more, one eyebrow raising in challenge.
“What could you offer me, Frankie?” It’s a loaded question. He could be polite, steer the conversation away from where he so desperately wants it to go, to be a gentleman. It would be easy to make a joke, to get you both to move on.
But he always wants to see where this could go. You’re the one who wanted to talk on the phone in the first place. And he would never suggest anything to make you uncomfortable, and he thinks that you know that. It’s like what the two of you do in your lives — a conversation, a back and forth that may end up benefitting both of you.
“Depends on what you’re lookin’ for, Conejita. I’m a man of many talents.” The words are slick on his tongue, silvery with enticement.
“Hm…” you ponder out loud, tapping your index finger against your bottom lip before turning back to the camera, “Can you cook?”
“Decently. Can’t claim I’m a chef, but I feed myself. And m’pretty good at a grill and makin’ some of my mamá’s recipes. Insisted on teaching them to me so they didn’t end with her.”
Grinning warmly, he feels his heartbeat kick up against his chest, thumping hard at the sight of you giving him that look. “That’s so sweet that she taught you. You can teach me, then someone else in the world will know her recipes too.”
Christ, you’re so fucking adorable. He doesn’t know what he wants more in the moment: to keep talking and simply listen to your voice, or to flirt his way into something more.
“She might be a better teacher than me, baby. Would probably be over the moon if you asked to learn since she had to force me a bit,” he laughs along with your quiet giggle, taking a deep breath when you bite down on your bottom lip.
“Are you a good teacher of other things?”
“I’d like to think so. Haven’t I taught you new things already, Conejita?”
There goes his heartbeat when you look away from the camera, smirk lifting your cheekbones as your demeanor goes shy, shrugging your shoulders as you lay back again, shifting to get comfortable.
“You have…And now I’ve learned how sexy your voice is, too. I’ll be picturing everything you type now to be said in your voice.”
Frankie breathes out a chuckle, a heat burning the nap of his neck, trickling down his back. He feels the effects of his blood rushing below his belt, ever-so-slightly lightheaded as he quietly palms his bulge in his sweatpants.
“My voice is sexy?”
“Um, duh. Are you kidding me? You sound all…rugged and raspy and deep. Like you could manhandle me easily,” you admit your thoughts easily, and he sighs quietly at the thought of having you in front of him to throw around his bed and mold you into the positions he dreams of getting you into.
“No tienes ni idea de lo que haría contigo (You've got no idea what I would do with you)...” he mumbles under his breath, hearing a soft whimper from you. One of your arms is slung across your front, pressing your breast into the other and he can take a guess as to what your hand is up to. “You want some help, baby? I bet you’re jus’ feeling so needy, aren’t you? Listening to my voice got you that worked up?”
“Mhmm…I need it, Frankie…” Your voice has the edge of a whine and he exhales slowly as he hears you beg for him. Not his call sign or a username. His name. Him. There’s no one else who’s making you feel this way, no one else striving for attention.
He pushes his pants down, pulling his hard cock out to start slowly stroking. You’ve left him aching, dripping precum that his fingers smear around his length to lubricate as he moves up and down in a teasing pace.
“Use your manners, Conejita. What d’you say?”
“Please. Please, Frankie. I wanna hear your voice, I want you to tell me what to do.” He hisses from behind his teeth as he squeezes his cock at the base, leaning his head back against his headboard before his focus zeroes in on you on his screen, asking for his guidance, his control to get you off. No one else privy to the sights he’s seeing.
“Good girl. Such a good girl for me, baby. Why don’t you take off your shirt for me? Let me see you, bonita.” Wetting his lips with his tongue when you move to prop your phone up on your mattress, an expert at framing yourself perfectly. The thin, worn fabric of your sleep shirt slips over your head, leaving you on full display for him — already pantyless. Whether you started the call with any on is a mystery to him, but now, he settles back to tell you exactly what he wants from you…what he knows will feel good for his conejita.
“Okay, bunny, lean back for me…That’s it, get comfortable. Good girl.” Looking into your camera to your side, a nervous smile plays at your lips, shyness overcoming you as you wait with bated breath for Frankie, who’s still a mystery to you, to instruct you. It’s driving him mad, how trusting you are of him without ever seeing his face. Such a sweet girl. His sweet girl.
“Show me how you like to play when no one’s watching.”
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When his phone dings one evening a few weeks later, Frankie pulls himself out from under the hood of his project car. A familiar fizz bubbles over his body, a Pavlovian response that’s been built over the last few weeks he’s been talking to you. There have been text chains, full of flirty sincerity, and more phone calls, all with his camera off but not all ending like that first one. There have been times when the two of you have had long conversations, full of laughter and learning about the other. A few calls have ended with you falling asleep, stuffed bunny tucked under your chin and pillowy lips parted slightly with deep, even breaths.
Admittedly, he’s grown attached. Maybe a bit much for…whatever this relationship or friendship is, but he can’t help the teenage giddiness he’s felt with every text chime, ringtone, or dial that he’s found you on the other end of.
He’s got a crush.
So immediately at the peal of his cell, he’s reaching for the rag on his workbench, wiping his hands clean of grease before reading over your message.
Conejita:
Hiii 😚
Are you busy?​
Grinning like a fool at the gray bubble, Frankie begins to type out a response before abandoning the message and clicking the phone button at the top of your name instead. Pressing the speaker to his ear, he runs a thumb across his bottom lip while he listens to the trill of the dial tone. Steps pace him across the garage, counting them in his head as he waits for an answer.
“Hey, stranger.” The line clicks on and your voice immediately draws a smile across Frankie’s face, hearing one of yours in your upbeat tone.
“Hey, Conejita. What’s up with you?” Even your presence over the phone calms his nerves, sparking kindling low in his gut that spreads down to his toes and up to the back of his neck. Frankie tucks his phone between his ear and shoulder as he wanders back over to the carhood, shutting it carefully. He retreats inside, washing his hands as he listens to you recount your day.
“...So then I got pissed off and left ‘cause she was being so unreasonable. And then I wanted to talk to you ‘cause, I dunno.” The intensity in your cadence slows down toward the tailend of your story of an argument with a friend of yours; Frankie chuckles, biting his tongue while you sigh deeply and he dries his hands off on a kitchen towel.
“You don’t know why you wanted to talk to me? Don’t get all shy on me now, cariño,” he teases you, receiving a frustrated huff on the other end. “Well, for what it’s worth, I agree with you. She sounds like she has a stick up her ass. And m’glad you wanted to call me, Conejita.”
“D’you wanna switch to Facetime?”
“‘Course, I do. Always wanna see your face, jus’ one sec…” Frankie climbs his stairs two at a time, reaching the landing as his screen lights up with the Facetime request from you. He answers it, camera off, while he changes out of dirty clothes and listens to you chatting about plans for the weekend. He mentions going out with the guys tomorrow night, and you make a jest that gets him laughing, both of you bantering back and forth before he settles back on his bed.
“Y’know, I am content to chat with you like this, Frankie. But I keep wondering what you look like…” In the small rectangle of his screen, you lean forward to fill more of it, cleavage exposed in your bralette. He’s been waiting for this to be brought up again, and feeling so much more comfortable with you, he can’t admit he hasn’t thought about it. But with that stronger connection comes the anxieties. What if he isn’t what you pictured? What if he isn’t your type? What if you don’t like him anymore?
Frankie thinks he’s decent looking enough — he hasn’t had much trouble pulling girls since he was a teenager, but not being the most commanding or charismatic in the room, he has had his bouts of struggle in the relationship department.
“Please, Frankie. S’not fair I get to hear your sexy voice and not know what you look like. Pretty please, I’ll give you something special if you do,” you bargain with a pout on your face, bottom lip protruding and puffy. He wants to kiss it away, bite down on the glossy flesh, work away your frowning moue with his own mouth. Wonderings of what you taste like.
Coming back into himself, he wears a proud, intrigued smirk that you’re blind to except for the way his words curl around his slick, silvery tongue, “Oh, is that right, bunny? What if I wanna know what the something special is to decide?”
“Not how it works, silly. Either you want something special or you don’t.” A stern shake of the head, sitting up straight as you raise an eyebrow at him.
He sits with it for a moment, thoughts warring on the inside. In the end, his realistic side barters that either way could end badly: he doesn’t turn the camera on and you get frustrated, ending it, or he does turn the camera on and you don’t like the look of him, ending it. A phantom whisper of your voice, bubbly and bright, reminds him that it could make everything even better, and that ultimately is what convinces him.
“Alright, alright. You make a convincing argument, Conejita.”
A beaming smile stretches across your face as you draw a leg up to your chest, resting your head on your kneecap while you hold back your excitement and anticipation. Frankie takes in the sight of you, astir on tenterhooks.
“Here goes nothing,” he mumbles to himself before his thumb is pressing the camera button, illuminating himself on your screen. He sees himself in the smaller rectangle in the corner, grimacing before he laughs softly and grins, awaiting your reaction with waves of solicitude raging inside.
You see him, your Frankie. Filling your phone screen. Finally.
A nearly inaudible gasp leaves your lips, blocked from the mic by your knee. Studying his face, you witness the lines next to his eyes deepening as he laughs, his shy smile growing on his face. Big brown eyes strike your chest, their sincere softness making you want to fall into their warmth and stay there forever. Like the comforting heat of a mug of coffee on a chilly morning. You note that your visualizations were correct, mostly. Brown hair, curling out from under the cap branded with Standard Oil that sits on his head. Wide set shoulders that extend out of frame, a build to him that screams he most definitely can manhandle you around in bed. His call sign makes a bit more sense to you, seeing patches in his short beard, admiring the one on his left cheek that is shaped like a heart. Simply endearing. The image of him in front of you sends a shock to your core, wet spot in your panties growing as you begin to imagine what the rest of him looks like.
Hot is all you can think. Frankie is fucking hot.
His voice cuts through your trails of admiration, joking around to break the silent tension, “So are you gonna ask me to keep my camera off now?”
As you swallow to recover some of your composure, shaking your head back and forth quickly before a genuinely eager smile paints your expression. Leaning closer to see more of his details, freckles across his neck and where his shirt exposes a sliver of his chest, the peak of his cupid’s bow shaded by his mustache, long eyelashes that reach toward his eyebrows. You drop your knee from in front of you, leaning an elbow on the surface of your desk and resting your shin in your palm.
“Frankie, respectfully, what the fuck? You’re so hot.”
A boisterous laugh rolls from his chest, the same shy smile returning with a blush across his cheeks, “Conejita, you’re the hot one between us.”
“No, no, I’m being serious. You’re like — Damn. Your smile. And you have pretty eyes, Frankie. And you’re just like…really fucking hot. I can’t even think of another word. You should be the one doing what I’m doing.”
“Oh, c’mon, you’re only seeing my face, baby.”
“Yeah, and? It’s a pretty face…Wanna sit on it.” Your giggle cuts through his speakers, and Frankie groans at the comment. Saliva coats your mouth as you watch the muscles in his neck tense, licking your chops like a prowling lion. If only he was in front of you right now…
“Diablita…eres una problema. (Little devil…you’re a problem.) Do I get my special something now?”
Another giggle and a mischievous smirk make Frankie’s brows stitch together in frustration, your shoulders shrugging as you toy with the strap of your bra, hooked under your index finger, “Actually, I think I wanna move the goalpost. Will you show me what I’m missin’, Frankie? I wanna see more.”
Desire burns bright and wild inside of you, ache building between your legs as your arousal drips from your panties and onto your thighs. You’d been picturing him — all of him — for weeks. Ever since that first message. But now, seeing him on your phone screen, your imagination is running wild with newfound information and attempting to fill in the blanks. He has to be big, thickness would be just right. He’s the quiet type, unassuming in his own looks, which means he has to have a virtually perfect dick. It's the rules of the universe. Undecided if he’s cut or not, but regardless, picturing your manicured fingers wrapped around it and tongue licking at his tip. Watching him come undone from you. Stomach tensing, those long fingers that you sneak a peek of when he adjusts his hat wrapped up in your hair. Rasping moans. What would he taste like?
Frankie shakes his head, a quick tsking drawing your attention back to the moment as he looks on with a teasing expression, “Conejita, I don’t think it works like that.”
“Okay, then no special something for you. Your choice, Francisco.”
He watches as you move the strap back up your shoulder, the soft snap of the elastic against your skin. Huffing out a frustrated breath, he mumbles, “No serías tan valiente si estuvieras aquí conmigo, mocosa. (You wouldn’t be so brave if you were here with me, brat.)”
Uncaring in whatever annoyances he was airing with you, you watch him sit up further in the frame, knocking off his cap and reaching for the hem of his shirt. Despite his words, he lifts his shirt over his head, looking back at the camera, bare shoulders and chest on display, “This is what you get for now, bunny.”
Satisfaction glows from your smile, biting hard into your bottom lip while Frankie watches your eyes search everywhere on your screen besides his own. A stern clearing of his throat breaks your trance, a commanding expression on Frankie’s face.
“You promised me something, Conejita.”
A deep pout replaces your grin, huffing in defiance as you slip your bra straps from your shoulders, “Can’t you please take the rest off? Show me what I wanna see, Frankie. Please.”
“Nah uh. Quit demanding, baby. Y’know that’s my job. Now tell me, what are you gonna do for me to get what you want?” His unwavering voice surprises you, despite hearing it for weeks. With the added heat factor of his looks, you crumble a bit quicker, clenching your thighs as you sigh and nod obediently.
“I’ll do anything, Frankie. Jus’ tell me what to do, I wanna make you happy.”
He grins on the screen, sincere softness peeking out, “Oh, baby, y’know it’s easy to make me happy. Jus’ gotta be a good little bunny, yeah?” He hums, licking his lips as he ponders what he wants from you tonight, a night he wants to fill with another milestone for the two of you. He’s only seen you use a small vibrator or your fingers on the phone with you, but he knows what else you have. He’s watched the video of you using it on your profile only about ten times.
“Get your pretty pink toy for me, Conejita. Y’know the one. And then get on the floor and you’re going to show me exactly how you use it.”
There’s rustling as you follow his instructions, stripping bare and suctioning the toy to your hardwood floors, propping the phone up for him to see it all. The hot pink dildo bobbles from you moving around it, glistening with lube that you applied — even though with one glance at your cunt, both you and Frankie know you wouldn’t need it. Straddling over the silicone, you slowly tease your entrance with it, whining before you make one more attempt to Frankie watching you with a smugness in his smirk.
“Please, Frankie, can’t you please show me your cock? I wanna picture it while I fuck myself. Wanna know if it’s how I imagined…Dream about it a lot.” He can read right through your tactics, but his dick can’t. It strains against his zippered jeans, throbbing under the fabric for some sort of relief. He squeezes his palm over it once, exhaling as he shakes his head, strong in his convictions.
“Be a good girl, and I’ll show you what you wanna see.” No more room for negotiations.
“Yes’sir.”
Frankie’s mouth hangs ajar while his focus trains on the apex of your thighs. Watching you slowly sink down, the bright pink rubbery toy disappears inside of you. Whimpers slip from your lips as you brace your hands on your thighs, fingers digging into the plush skin. Need burns brightly in his chest and below his belt, clenching his jaw while he imagines biting the meaty part of you, leaving teeth marks in his wake before settling his mouth at your entrance.
Your hips set a quick pace, desperate for the high you’ve been dripping for since getting on the phone with Frankie. A low growl followed with a disapproving tut clicks over the speakers of your phone.
“Slow down, baby girl. Not a race…” Frankie corrects, and the only response you have is a frantic nod, turning your movements to a drag. The toy fills you up, stretches you the most that you have ever been. Pain heats your feelings of pleasure, intensifying it all in the lightness of your limbs and head. The ridges of the faux veins of the fake cock impress into your walls, the tip of it notching at the spot inside of you that Frankie taught you to reach. It only skates by it, whines accompanying your frustrations.
Frankie, on the other end, listens to the squelch of your pussy around the silicone. The sound drives him to fully cup his erection through his pants, palming himself with heady breaths as your own moans for him drive the iron hot brand of need deeper into his skin. He can see your need for a change, your need to be given permission to chase that feeling that’s within reach.
“Lean back, little bunny. Sit back on your hands and use your hips…Show me more of that pretty pussy,” he instructs, cool and confident while his hips buck up into his hand. Being his perfect girl, you do as he says and change positions, gasping when you sink down onto the toy. Your cunt clenches around it, a satisfied smirk painting Frankie’s face. He knows he’s gotten you to hit that special spot. With the grip your entrance has around the base of the dildo, he wonders if you’ll pop it off of the floor on your next thrust.
“Oh, fuck…Frankie, wish you were here. Tell me—tell me what you’d do to me if you were here,” you beg, your hips still dragging at the new angle.
A groan escapes Frankie at your request, biting down hard on his lip and taking his hand away from his lap to deny himself the temptation.
“You love hearing me say all the dirty things to you, huh Conejita?” Without waiting for an answer, he continues, “If I were there with you, I’d would be—shit—I’d be devouring you right now. Fucking you with my tongue and my fingers, making you squeeze me and getting your come all over my face. Gotta get you ready for me, bunny. After, I’d flip you over. Get your pretty ass up for me, and I’d fuck you senseless. That’s what you want, isn’t it? Turn it all off up there and just let me take care of you…”
Nodding, your hips start to move faster as Frankie speaks to you. He doesn’t have the heart to tease you anymore, letting you start to take what you want for a bit. Your moans pitch up, tits bouncing with your nipples pebbled and the rest of your soft curves twisting as you rock back and forth on the toy.
“Yes, please. I want that,” you mewl, heavy breaths erratic.
“That’s right. My baby deserves it all,” he says with a sigh, his large palm squeezing his hard cock again, slowly unzipping his jeans and slipping his hand into his boxers to grip himself at the base. “I’d fuck you until that pretty little brain of yours was filled up only with thoughts of how good I make you feel. How good you are for me, pretty girl…Look at you go, bouncing on that toy. Rub your clit, Conejita. Slow, at least for right now.”
You follow his orders, supporting yourself on one arm. Slow circles against your clit have you shuddering with pleasure, a twitch of your tummy as you moan. Your eyes flutter shut, face twisting with overwhelming need. Frankie drinks in the sight, indulging himself in a few long strokes of his cock before he hears it.
“Daddy…” you breathe, near a whisper, but it’s audible to him. Lost in yourself, you don’t even notice you’ve let it slip until it comes again, “Oh my god, Daddy.”
The surprise of it shocks your eyes open, stuttering your hips as you narrow in on your screen. Frankie’s eyes grow dark, licking his lips as he holds in a loud moan. His fingers grip the base of his aching cock, holding off at the edge. So close to coming when he heard that word drip from your mouth like melted sugar.
He can tell you’re attempting to gauge his reaction, nervous settling in as you attempt to move on from it and continue fucking yourself closer to finishing. Frankie’s eager to take it in stride, clearing his throat before he gives it right back to you, opening that door that he knows won’t be shut any time soon. At least not by him.
“Yeah, that’s right, baby. Let Daddy tell you what you need, yeah?” He chuckles darkly, satisfaction thumping in his veins while you nod and whimper yes yes yes back to him, “Y’know, if you like that lil’ toy, baby, Daddy’s cock will feel even better. S’bigger than that fucking thing.”
“Oh, fuck, I need to—I need you, Daddy, please!”
“I know, Conejita, I know. Poor little thing jus’ needs Daddy to be filling her up, huh? You wanna know what my cock feels like inside of you, don’t you, pequeña?” He hisses with a buck of his hips into his fist, squeezing his eyes shut for a brief second.
“Yes, yes, please, Daddy! Please,” you choke on a breath and Frankie can see you twitch at your inner thighs from the full-on view of your pussy, your tell-tale sign that you’re about to come.
“Y’know the rules, Conejita. Better ask before you come.”
“Please, please may I come?” you moan, rubbing faster circles against your clit and grinding down on your toy.
“Oh, bunny, you can ask nicer than that. May I come…?” he leads, smirking devilishly when you nearly squeal from the way he’s holding you out on the edge. Teetering on the verge of that high that he knows well, he can see your legs faltering with a cramp.
“Please may I come, Daddy?” Your eyes open, heavy-lidded and lips parted with shallow breathing. Frankie gets lost in the sight, wrecked from his direction, his words, a sheen of sweat over your skin and the arousal coating your thighs. A fucking dream.
“Mm, come for Daddy, baby girl—” he’s interrupt as you erupt in a high-pitched moan, mouth wide open as you string together mumblings Oh fuck, Daddy, feels so good. Need you so bad…
“Good girl.”
Frankie hums contently, chuckling as a dopey grin finds your face, blinking through the orgasmic haze. Laying back, you slip the toy out of your pussy, leaving it to wobble in place and spreading your legs around it. One arm comes to rest against your forehead, breasts rising and falling with deep, recovering breaths. He’s blocked of the view that would make this moment even sweeter, licking his lips before he speaks up.
“Lemme see that fucked cunt of yours, bunny. Let Daddy see what belongs to him.” You sit up again, popping the toy off of the floor and laying it to the side to be cleaned later. Frankie hums as you part your legs more, the glittering of your come dripping on your thighs and across your swollen pussy. “Eres un buen oyente, pequeña. (You’re a good listener, little one.)”
“What’s that mean?” you ask, a long exhale punctuating the question.
“You’re a good listener, little one.” Frankie grins when you grow shy, inching your legs together before he tsks again, one hand coming into frame to motion for your lower limbs to part again.
“Y’know, it would look even prettier with my come dripping out of ya, baby.”
“Please.”
“What, Conejita?”
“Don’t tease me anymore…Can’t take it, Daddy.” You lips push out in a pout, subtle but he can catch the change in expression.
“Nah uh, no pouting, bunny. Who said that I was teasing? I’m going to make it happen.”
Sweetness slips from your lips in a giggle, leaning over to pick up your phone and hold him closer to your face.
“So, if I was a good girl, doesn’t that mean I get to see what I asked for before?” Wiggling in eagerness, Frankie feigns ignorance, scratching at his beard as he shrugs, acting as if he didn’t nearly come in his pants multiple times in the last few minutes.
“I dunno, Conejita. What did you ask me for? Gonna have to remind me.”
“Your cock. I wanna see it.” Your pout sneaks back, biting your lip. “May I please see your cock, Daddy?”
“I think I could do that for you, baby. Asking so nicely. Such a good girl for Daddy, yeah?”
“Always.” A giggle bubbles up from your tummy, biting down on your lip as Frankie takes you in, shaking his head in subtle disbelief. How the hell did clicking for one subscription get him here, having Facetime sex with you?
He obliges your original requests, moving to prop his phone up in front of him, stripping down his jeans first. The sight of his bulge waters your mouth, pupils widening in want at the outline of his cock. No tricks of the light, no chance of manipulation like some men in your DMs do. All natural.
And Frankie wasn’t lying. He’s big.
The reveal comes when he tugs his boxers down to his ankles, settling in front of the camera again. His heavy length rests against his lower stomach, precum dripping into his dark happy trail. Your eyes drag over the veins ribbing him, leading down to show off that he’s tastefully groomed. Swallowing saliva, you lick your lips as his large hand wraps around, slow strokes that gently shift the foreskin away from his tip. The end of his cock glistens with pebbles of precum, red and aching. Frankie hisses at the contact, the veins in his neck straining against his skin while he starts to fuck his fist.
“You look so pretty, Daddy,” you compliment sweetly, grinning at him as he laughs quietly back at you.
“Such a sweet little bunny. You think you can take me in your tight little cunt?” A long exhales concaves his chest, quiet moans as his hand picks up pace. 
You return his regular favor of talking him through it, detailing how good of a girl you’d be for him, telling him all that he would be allowed to do to you. The sounds Frankie makes has you dripping again, getting his permission to fuck your fingers, both of you driving each other to a peak, your second one taking the breath from your lungs as Frankie comes at the same time. Whimpers escape your mouth as you envy his hand and stomach being covered in his release, biting your tongue and crowding the screen as he shows off how much you made him come.
“Wish I was there to clean you up, Daddy.”
“Right back at you, Conejita.”
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A few days later, Frankie calls you after one of your livestreams, grinning like a schoolboy when you answer in only your underwear. You laugh as you set your phone down on the surface of your dressing, his childish smirk turning to a pout as he stares at your white painted ceiling. Calling out to him, you ask for one second while you tug a sweatshirt over your head, shuffling around before grabbing the device and relaxing back on your bed, bunny in your lap.
“Hi, baby,” Frankie coos, one side of his mouth lifting in a smile as he drinks in your cozy, drowsy demeanor. Cuddling with the toy against your chest, you grin back at him, curling up onto your side like a cat.
“Hi, Frankie,” you mumble back, exhaustion heavy in your eyes.
“You sleepy, little bunny?” A slow nod answers his question. “Alright, I won’t keep you up for long then. Just had a question for you.”
The vague proposition piques your interest, your eyes shooting open and the camera being brought closer to your face, “What’s your question?”
Frankie works his lips between his teeth, nerves crackling over his entire body. Realistically, he knows you’ll say yes, but there’s still that chance for rejection in the moment. His left leg bounces against his couch, hand running over his face as he takes a deep breath in, “I was wondering if you’d wanna come visit me here in Florida? If you don’t have time—”
“I would love to come visit, Frankie,” you agree immediately, a sincere smile growing on your face. Frankie mirrors your excitement with a goofy grin, the creases next to his eyes deepening and his dimple cratoring his cheek. “I’ll even book my flight right now, that’s how eager I am.”
Shaking his head furiously, he clicks his tongue in a tut, scolding you playfully, “Hey, hey. No, none of that. I’m not letting my baby pay, I’m the one who asked you to come.”
“But—”
“Nope, no buts. Except yours getting onto a plane and coming to see me,” Frankie laughs at his own joke, earning a playful eye roll as you hold back your own chuckle. “Oh, c’mon, that was funny, Conejita. I can tell you want to laugh.”
The two of you go back and forth while he books your flight on his laptop, showing off the confirmation number once it’s all gone through. Both of you wear shit-eating grins on your faces, sitting in disbelief.
Frankie can’t help the rush of anxiety, unable to tell if it’s solely from his excitement. All he can think about is having you in front of him, in the flesh, in person. No screens between the two of you, no broken signals or shitty wifi interruptions. Hearing your voice without the strain of speakers, getting to touch you, taste you, hear you, feel you all over him. There’s the flash of a vision of you laid out underneath him, making your little sounds that drive him crazy and digging your nails into his back…
“Gonna let Daddy spoil you while you’re down here, baby girl?” Frankie smirks as you stretch sleepily, biting down on your lip.
“You’re flying me out, isn’t that spoiling me enough? Shouldn’t it be my turn to spoil you then?”
“Think you know the answer to that, baby. Having you in front of me is spoiling me enough, I jus’ wanna take care of you.” 
The simple statement brings a smile to your face, shyly tucking your face into your pillow. The rest of the call relaxes you back to near sleep, listening as Frankie tells you all about what he’ll take you to do. Your drowsiness catches up with you, drifting off on the phone. Frankie chuckles quietly to himself, sitting with you for a moment silently before he goes to hang up.
“Night, Conejita. Can’t wait to see you.”
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aseaofyoongi · 1 year
Text
behind pixels 1 | jjk
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jjk x reader (f)
genre: sex worker au (jk)
rating: mature audiences only (strictly 18+)
summary: with rising stress, being caught touching yourself and no satisfaction for your own imagination you decide to take your friends advice of using a certain little app for assistance.
warnings: not another college smut au . . you guessed it lol; foul language; sensual/dirty talk; masturbation; computer sex; strangers to sex worker jk helping you out for the night lol (pls stay safe of the world wide web yall); mentions of sexual intercourse - but ofc there is none; cum eating. . she licks her fingers after.. yeah; open ending and no preparation for a pt. 2 so dont hate me.
next part: behins pixels the sequel
word count: 3,3 thousand words
posted: april 8th, 2023
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BunnyBoy98 is typing…..
Is this your first time
here?
Sorta.
You can’t sorta be
here for the first time.
It's a yes or no question.
I thought this site was
no questions asked. No
strings attached?
You against conversation
or something? Desperate
to get right to it?
Not desperate. . but that is
what we’re here for.
Right bunny boy?
Right.
There was a second of silence in between messages. For a brief moment you interpreted his quietness as a goodbye but he was still online. . Perhaps, he thought you to be too straightforward and that turned him off entirely and he moved on to the next user.
Still, there was a faint hope within you that he would reply so you sat in the dead stillness of your room, lights turned off to avoid recognition, door locked with only your undergarments to hug your body.
Typically, this wouldn’t be the event to make-up your Friday night however stressed induced days. . and the simple fact that you were in a torment of arousal twenty-four seven with no further satisfaction stemming from the guidance your imagination had on your fingers.
BunnyBoy98 is typing…..
You sat up on the bed in anticipation of his reply even though you'd never admit it to the stranger on the other side of the screen. He was about to help you get off, so you were definitely at the gates of desperation. It trickled all throughout your body as if a rain cloud sat right above you drenching you in its honeyed ardor.
Your skin turned to goosebumps as the chat bubble continued appearing and disappearing again and again.
Fine. But at least
tell me how you
found me.
I wasn’t specifically
searching for you.
Then who?
Anyone really.
Ouch. You know
I actually felt a bit
special for a second.
You still should. You’re
description helped me
choose you.
Be honest, was it
the tattoos?
If I say maybe would
you be mad at me?
Not at all.
Then, yes.
Plus your description
says you have long hair.
Who was the
runner-up?
Someone named Tae. But
I remembered a friend
visits him often.
So you found out
about us through
a friend?
Yes.
We can do either a
video call or messages.
Which do you prefer?
Video call.
If you’re up for it.
I’m OK with it
as long as you are.
I’ll call you in 5.
I’ll be here.
The rippling anticipation waved through you like electric currents rumbling your entire being right off its course. Though, BunnyBoy98 was a complete stranger you were minutes away from stripping yourself of every bit of shame and vulnerability right before him.
You couldn’t believe you actually went through with it.
And it all began about a week prior. When your friend had walked in on you in a . . less than ideal situation. You succumbed to the pleasure of your favorite toy, legs stretched wide and completely bare on your bottom half. Overcome in the feeling as you maintain focus on chasing your own orgasm. You remember hearing the hinges on the door creak but you weren’t expecting anyone so you remained painting a fervor image behind your eyelids. Envisioning slender fingers being pumped in and out of you repeatedly.
There were beads of sweat strolling down your body as you were in position; about to be catapulted into outer space. The atmosphere you set for yourself was serene and the only sounds that could be heard were your occasional whimpers and the music that played softly in the background. Everything drove you closer and closer to where you wanted to be.
Where you needed to be.
You were so close then a gasp inundated the air around you. A gasp that most certainly did not come from you.
“What the fuck?” You shot your eyes open and quickly saw your friend buried into a corner near the door. She faced the wall but you could only imagine the revolted look on her face, “can you lock the door next time?”
“Oh my,” you quickly pulled the covers over your sweaty body, “can you knock next time?”
“I did knock,” she yelled back, “but you were a little busy.”
“So you just barge in?”
“I thought you might have been dead in the toilet or something,” she shrugged and turned back around to find you sprawled in your bed, “oh, you’re done?”
“What do you think?”
“I mean don’t stop on my account. We all do it,” she sat across from your bed and began spinning around on your computer chair, “I personally like to meet Tae when I’m in the mood but you know this all works too.”
“Who’s Tae?” you questioned sitting up in the bed; wrapping your bed sheets around your figure tightly.
“He’s from this app where guys kinda help girls get off,” she said it so casually you almost didn’t fully decipher the words escaping her lips.
“There’s an app for that?”
“It’s the twenty-first century there’s literally an app for everything.”
You cleared your throat, “is it safe?”
“Are you interested?” she waggled her brows.
“No,” you scoffed, “did you need something?”
“I can’t come over just to spend time?” she shook her head, “I should’ve let you finish. Maybe you would have been in a better mood.”
“Fuck you,” you giggled.
“At least use this next time,” your phone dinged after she quickly sent you a text, “let me know how it goes.”
Her exit was barely audible. You were too preoccupied studying the link she sent for the app called ‘Eargasm An App for Women in Need.’
BunnyBoy98 is typing…..
I’m ready.
Can I call you?
Yeah.
You can call.
The ringtone echoing amongst your walls was taunting, and your nerves nearly fooled you into letting it ring. And while it took a lot of physical and mental strength to actually pick your hand up and move it towards the mouse pad you were finally able to press the green button lighting up your screen.
BunnyBoy98 sat up against a wall; glowing under blue LED lights. His black hair was long as detailed in his description and it sat right above his shoulders. Though it was hard to tell under the stark ambiance his eyes mimicked the tint of chocolate and his piercing stare was aimed at you on the other side of the screen. . Well, it was actually aimed at your dark screen. Though, it was selfish of you, as you hid cowardly behind your turned off camera you wished he would remove the black mask hiding the bottom half of his face.
“Hi,” he greeted.
“Hi,” you murmured, perhaps a bit scared that someone might hear this interaction play out although no one would. You made sure your door was locked this time and you didn’t even have a roommate. “Should I continue calling you BunnyBoy or is there something else you prefer to be called?”
“You can call me JK,” his voice was sultry, soothing, grave. Somehow a mixture of all three in one; it vibrated in your inner ear like some sort of an invasively soft tune, one you know you’d be replaying many times after tonight.
“Sorry about the dark screen,” you attempted to swallow down any ounce of nervousness, “I guess you can say I’m a bit nervous.”
“You don’t have to apologize,” his reassurance quickly eased your frazzled nerves, “though I’ll admit you did sound a bit more assertive over messages.”
“I tend to come off over-confident through texts,” you snickered, “it’s a natural flaw.”
“Confidence is sexy so I would say it’s a blessing.”
The word sexy sounded so enticing coming from his lips even as they were hidden behind that damned black cloth. You roamed through countless fantasies of the man sitting right before you, about the way he possibly looked without being covered; how his touch might feel on your scorching skin and the tone of his whispers closer in the proximity of your ear.
“You’re awfully quiet,” he voice was playful, but it was so hard to read his expression behind his covered face, “have you begun having fun without me?”
“No,” you mumbled, “I haven’t.”
“Good,” he said, “why don’t you tell me what you like.”
“Like during. .” you drifted off.
He nodded, tucking his hair behind his ear, “What else are we here for darling?”
“Yes. Of course,” you huffed, slapping your palm on your forehead undoubtedly astounded by your own stupidity, “Uh, I like. .” You gave it some thought but kept rounding the same corners leading to you cluelessness, “I’m not sure I know what I like.”
“Forgive me for being blunt but have you touched yourself recently?”
“That’s the exact reason why I ended up here.”
“You’re addicted to masturbating?” He whispered as if he was keeping some big secret.
“No!” you answered back quickly, “Not at all. I’ve just been a bit stressed lately and well. . something else happened.”
“What happened?”
“My friend kinda walked in on me,” you whispered.
“It happens to the best of us sadly,” he chuckled, a sound so beautiful and gentle it matched the soft tune of songbirds in the morning, “how about you begin by telling me about the last time you were aroused. Just walk me through whatever got you in the mood that day.”
You closed your eyes leaning your head against the headboard. Your thoughts traveled back to a couple of days prior when your body sunk into the mattress under the hex of your fingertips. You were stripped down bare but you recalled the way every inch of your body was covered in a thin layer of sweat.
“I had just gotten home after my classes,” a small white lie was the price to pay to save any once of dignity you had left in the eyes of the stranger before you — in reality, that very day and every other day you’d found yourself under the amorous touches of your sinful fantasies whenever you saw him, the boy employed at the campus student center.
You didn’t know his name and in reality he only lived in your mind in small flashes. The first polaroid was composed of his cheeky smile framed by indents of his round cheeks. While other snap shots focused on the way he always wore in a half up half down style or a bun; others were centered around the numerous tattoos inked into his right arm, especially the snake sitting right above his wrist and the patchwork tattoos on the dorsal side of his hand.
“Were you thinking about someone?”
“Yes.”
“What were they doing?”
There was a rush of heat traveling through you as you recalled the way you dreamt up his touch against your body, the way his fingers left behind trails of goosebumps on your skin.
“First he began touching me softly,” It was like your body was on auto drive and before you knew it you set the laptop beside you on the bed and began getting comfortable on the bed.
“Was he touching you anywhere specific?”
You hummed in response, “he drew all kinds of figures into my inner thigh, kept inching closer and closer and then he would pull away abruptly.”
“Did you enjoy him pulling away?”
“Yes, it made me want it more.”
“Ok, I’m gonna ask you to do a couple of things. If you don’t want to do something just tell me. I’m here for your pleasure.”
You nodded, then realized he couldn’t see you, “Yea, that’s fine.”
A strain of the jitters ate away at your nerves and you weren’t sure if you’d ever come down from that rollercoaster of anxiety. You were sitting at the peak in a single-person cart waiting to be plummeted down the valley of the tracks leading you to the finale; the culmination of an enticing ride.
“Are you naked?”
“Somewhat.”
“Take it all off.”
Even in the stillness of darkness removing your bra and panties made you feel entirely vulnerable. You were technically alone but JK was right there just a couple of pixels away.
“Close your eyes, doll. I want you to begin touching yourself just wherever it feels good,” he instructed and you weren’t sure if it was your mind playing tricks on you but you could’ve sworn his voice became more bass, “start high and slowly make your way down to your breasts. When you’re there let me know.”
His words were tainted with sin meanwhile he still sat back nonchalantly. You'd imagined he was satisfied in the way your soft whimpers overtook the air as you began pinching your perked nipples but you couldn’t tell for sure not while he still wore his mask.
“I’m assuming you’ve made it.” he chuckled.
“Yeah. Sorry.”
“You’re not very good at following instructions. Are you, doll?” he rolled up the sleeves of his crewneck, finally exposing the infamous tattoos he detailed in his description. They were like pieces of artwork adorning his entire arm, not a single spot was left visible—and as much as you tried to get a better look at them for some reason you found it impossible to focus on just one.
“Sorry,” you muttered once again, “I was caught up in the moment I guess.”
“You don’t have to apologize,” he offered, “but I need you to be vocal since I can’t exactly see you.”
“I’ll be more vocal. I promise,” you said, still toying with your nipples in between your fingers, “right now my hands are still at my tits.”
“Are you bored of that yet, doll?” the onset of his tumultuous utter; it was thunderous, like music for the soul, “you wanna aim lower?”
“Yes.”
“With the tips of your fingers I want you to move down your cleavage,” he said, “and stop right at your pelvis.”
Quickly, it felt like the evening had rushed by and the sun had been relocated right beside your bed. Though you complied with his command any form of coherent words became jammed in your throat incapable of rolling off your tongue.
The way your fingers slid past your folds earned a string of whimpers from your lips earning a satisfied titter from JK on the other side of the screen.
“Nice and slow, doll,” JK said, “be gentle but I want you to apply a bit of pressure every time your fingers meet your clit.”
JK’s voice was no longer muffled from the laptop’s static microphone. Instead in this version of your altered reality he was laying right beside you on your bed, and his fingers substituted yours against your cunt. His touch contained something yours simply did not possess, composed of a sort of spell that left you babbling moans. And as his fingers traced whichever incoherence they wanted into your clit you felt closer to your pinnacle.
“Fuck,” he stuttered, “I love the way you say my name.”
The bubbling daringness dazed with pleasure drove you to chant his name over and over in between your pants and obscenities. “You have no idea the things I would do for you to fuck me right now,” It was your best attempt at trying to break past his professional shell — His head fell back against the wall as his adam’s apple bobbed up and up, his eyes were shut tightly and his hands fidgeted with something off frame.
“You have no idea how much I’d love to fuck you but this is a contactless doll,” his breathing became uneven, “I’m afraid we could never meet. You could never know who I am and I could never know who you are.”
“N-never say never,” the contract enforced by the site was clear and simple, both parties must grant their consent to the meeting online without disclosing their identities. For safety measures you understood the implications of the rules applied but what of it when you genuinely just wanted to meet the dulcet stranger and ride along him for the wildest time of your life.
“Just focus on the feeling,” his voice was rugged; raspy as a result of the groans he sang into the air, “Focus on that shiver taking your back hostage and that very knot tightening in your core. I want you to only let your thoughts be consumed by that very feeling.”
You sat up using your elbow for support, still thriving to maintain the mental image of having JK near in curated colors. Again, you were in the presence of the man dipping the mattress beside you as he laid down with eyes to scorching their umber tone surrounding you in warmth.
“Now, finger yourself.”
The squelching sound of your finger pushing past your entrance had JK sitting up straight like he was intrigued by your facile compliance but you thought it was obvious that by now there was very little you wouldn’t do as long as it came from him.
“I wish I could see you doll,” he confessed, “I bet you look heavenly with your fingers inside of you.”
“C-contactless r-remember,” The motion living up to your satisfaction was hastened —you became divulged in the feeling of your walls on your fingers. You felt soft, warm, tight. All of the sensations combined to create a feeling so addicting your fingers developed a mind of their own as you drove themselves in and out of you with ease.
“Right. .”
“Fuck, this f-feels,” you swallowed to ease the desert developing in the back of your throat, “it feels s-so fucking good.”
“If I were there,” he mumbled, barely audible but your ears still perked up at the lulls of his voice, “First, I would serenade every inch of your skin. Your body would be the portrait I’d paint with my lips.”
“Mhm. .”
“I would cherish your body so well. Eat you out until your legs shake and fuck you until you’re a candid mess.”
“O-oh, fuck! JK don’t stop.”
“I would fuck you so well, doll.”
“I-I’m so close,” your arm became numbed yet, you kept fucking yourself with your fingers still succumbing to the fantasy of having JK in replacement of your own hand.
The temperature in your room draws beads of sweat on your body and the more you strive to reach your high the more scorching the temperature becomes. The creaking of your bed accentuated the speed of your movements, it was like a song featuring your constant moans.
“Until you’re babbling nonsense, and your headboard is marking up the wall and the neighbors finally know my name.”
JK’s words were laced with a delectable nectar, so sweet, a once off taste wasn’t enough and as you pleaded for more and he complied, continuing to fill your ears with sinful promises you crashed hard. Coming in spurts of white coating your fingers.
“I have a surprise for you,” you panted in between almost every word, “you ready?”
He nodded.
Call it post orgasm tipsiness but after sitting up a bit and adjusting the laptop to leave anything that wasn’t your mouth out of frame you turned on your camera for the very first time that night, pushing your glistening fingers which once invaded your walls past your swollen lips.
His hands rose to his hair and he slithered his fingers through it lightly before gripping his roots into his fists looking a fair amount aroused and frustrated. The tattoos you desperately wanted a peek of were finally on full display. After turning off your camera once again and JK began uttering praises your way, you began scanning the ink on his arm from his forearm up slowly. The artwork adorned his skin beautifully.
As you neared his wrists you noticed a very similar serpentine snake—one who you have stared at too often.
“Typically, things here are a bit different,” you finally registered his voice, “you would turn on your camera and I would provide more detailed assistance but I hope you still had a good time. I did.”
“Yeah,” your mind was in outer space, “I had a really good time.”
“Don’t shy away from visiting me again, OK?”
“Yeah,” you said, “bye, JK.”
Once the camera was off and you shut your laptop tightly, coming to the realization.
JK was him.
The boy, your boy from the student center.
-
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an: i was bored and im so sorry lol
reblogs, likes, comments, replies are always appreciated 🫶🏽
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levilxvr · 4 months
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Forget about him.
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PAIRINGS: levi x f!reader
WARNINGS: nsfw, phone sex, toxic relationships, cheating, masturbation
SUMMARY: your relationship with erwin hasn’t been going smoothly, and recently you find yourself crawling back to levi who’s pining for you. One day erwin is out for the night and you decide to give levi a call.
It’s friday night and you’re alone at erwin’s apartment again, slouching on his bed. You’ve called him six times in the last hour with no response, only to get a text from hange a few minutes ago saying he’s out clubbing.
Hange: I’m here with mikasa and the gang too. He’s at the billiard table.
Without you.
Lately something’s gotten into your boyfriend and he’s been acting distant, ignoring your calls and texts whenever he’s out. Your suspicion only grew when you heard he’s been out with a bunch of old college friends. Why hadn’t he mentioned them at all? But when he gets home late at night he always acts as if nothing happened, dismissing the miss calls and questions.
That wasn’t the biggest issue. The other thing that’s been weighing on your mind is the fact that a certain someone has been getting your attention as of late: Erwin’s best friend, levi. He’s always there for you when erwin is ghosting you, taking time to hang out with you during the weekends when erwin claims he’s ‘busy with group projects’ and ‘catching up with old friends’.
You hate to admit, it but over the past few months you’ve been growing more and more emotionally attached to levi. He’s always sweet and genuine with his words, providing advice and lending a listening ear when you need to let out your frustrations about erwin. On top of that, he happened to be hot as hell and god, you had to swallow your guilt whenever his face popped up in your mind while erwin was fucking you.
Which reminds you, when was the last time he even touched you? Screw the half hearted kisses and hugs whenever he felt like it. It’s been weeks since you’ve last had sex and the last time you did it wasn’t even that great. You noticed your boyfriend only fucked you when he wasn’t in the best mood, using you as a means of personal and physical relief. And it sucked because half the time you never even got to cum before he’s rolling onto the other side of the bed and falling asleep, not even bothering to ask how you feel or what you wanted.
He’d probably kill you if you brought up the subject of ending your relationship though, so you never really talked about it with him. But tonight, you felt like you were reaching your limit. You scroll through your phone app, heart sinking to the pit of your stomach when you look at the insane number of unanswered outgoing calls. What the hell was erwin up to?
Whatever it is, looks like that asshole was too busy out drinking and doing god knows what with god knows who.
You blinked back your tears and pressed the call button under levi’s number without thinking twice.
Levi had nothing to do during the weekends. He wasn’t much of a social bug and never let erwin drag him out to his silly parties and club nights because he knew about you..and he didn’t want to affect your feelings towards him by joining in with erwin’s shit.
Unbeknownst to you, he actually had the fattest crush on you. It all started a few months back when he sent you a text about erwin’s whereabouts and it turned into a full blown conversation about how he’s been acting weird as hell lately. Then you guys started meeting up on the regular when he’s not around.
And now..
He got out of the shower and threw a towel around his neck, quickly pulling up a pair of black sweatpants as he headed to his bed to pick up your call. His heart was pounding in his chest. every time he saw your name on his screen he felt like he was going to collapse, because of nervousness and also because of the fact that he probably shouldn’t be doing this when erwin is dating you. But fuck it, erwin’s such a lousy boyfriend anyways- and he wanted to prove it to you.
“Hey,” his low voice rings in your ears. No matter what happens, you’ve got the key to the front door so if Erwin comes back he won’t be able to enter unless you unlock it.
“Hey.” You didn’t expect your voice to come out so..quiet.
“Everything alright?” You could hear the concern in his smooth voice.
“Are you free to talk?”
“No shit, I wouldn’t have answered otherwise.”
You smiled at his snarkiness. Cute.
For the next half an hour or so you guys end up chatting about recent events, anything new happening, and of course, erwin.
“Tch, he thinks his ego is as big as his dick.”
“Pretty small, not gonna lie,”
“Oh yeah? Bet he lasts like thirty seconds.”
“Twenty.”
Levi laughs and you can't contain the silly grin that spreads on your face. He really is one of the cutest guys you’ve ever met. But the warmth in your heart dies down when you remember the situation youre currently in.
“I’ve been wanting to break up with him for months now, I just don’t know how and I’m scared of how he’ll react.”
“Hmm..he is quite difficult when it comes to relationships.”
There’s a long pause over the phone and you’re about to break the silence when Levi says, “I’ll tell you what. Why don’t you send him one of those silly breakup messages and I’ll drive over to pick you up?”
“It’s..not that easy, levi. I already told him I’m here.”
Hearing his name from your lips makes him melt. If only you knew how badly he wanted you. How he feels whenever your pretty face pops up in his mind, how desperately he wants to feel your body on his. It’s wrong, he’s well aware of that. But just physically being with you, admiring how perfect you are, it’s enough to get him hot and bothered, cock involuntarily hardening in his pants as he tries to control himself.
And fuck it all, because tonight he’s had enough playing around with his own stupid feelings. He sends a text to hange who confirms that erwin is still at the club, then closes all his tabs.
“Then let me help you feel better.”
“W- what?”
“You know..” he doesn’t know where the hell this sudden surge of confidence is coming from, but hopefully neither of you regret it in the morning. Seconds later his free hand is sliding past the waistband of his sweatpants, fingers brushing against his slowly hardening cock. The contact makes him let out a low groan and he adjusts himself while pulling his pants off.
“Levi, are you..” you hear the rustling of sheets in his background, followed by more soft pants over the phone as he presses a thumb against his tip.
You’re wrist deep in your shorts now, pushing past your panties as you palm the growing heat in your lower region. The line goes silent for a moment as you close your eyes and bite your lower lip, spreading your legs as your fingers ghost over your clit.
“Tell me,” he whispers while stroking the precum on his shaft. “do you think about me? When you’re touching yourself?”
“Mhmm, I think about you every day, levi.”
“What do you think about?” He’s rubbing his thumb over the sensitive slit of his cock, abdomen clenching when more clear fluid flows out. He lets out another moan when he realises how red and swollen he’s become- all because of you.
“I think about your fingers..” you slip a finger into your tight hole, using your own arousal as lube. “Inside me.” You barely choke out the last part, cheeks flushing red at the embarrassing confession. You’re slipping it in and out now, back arching when you imagine it’s his slender, veiny hand pressed against your core, fingering you while your other hand drops the phone beside you and grabs your breast.
Your voice sounds so sexy, it’s making levi even more horny. He can’t help but imagine the sounds you’d make when he’s on top of you, fucking your pussy nicely and making you feel so good like you deserve. His hand is stroking his cock more roughly now, hissing through his teeth as he squeezes the tip. Not yet, he thought, not gonna cum until she cums.
“What else do you think about?” He presses.
“I think..oh fuck- I think about your cock inside me,” you’re so close now, two fingers curling and thrusting against your sweet spot. He can tell by the way your voice has gone a pitch higher that you’re gonna cum soon. “Think about you cumming inside me while..fuck-!”
“Yeah? Thinking about me filling you up?”
“Yea, levi! Shit, i think ‘m gonna cum soon,”
“me too, pretty girl.” He’s letting out the loudest, filthiest moans he’s ever heard from himself, not even bothering to control them as he drinks in every sound you make. Soon you’re both climaxing, your pussy clenching tight around your fingers- his fingers, as you ride out your orgasm. Meanwhile levi’s cursing over the phone, mumbling how good you make him feel as he spills all over his hand.
Your legs are quivering as you recover from your high, fingers still stroking your sensitive folds.
“y/n..shit, we gotta do this more often.”
“..did you mean it? When you said I make you feel good?”
“Of course, baby.” You shiver at the way he says it. “Fuck, I’ve been wanting you since the day we met up at your place when that bitch was out at the bar.”
“Levi..”
There’s no turning back now.
“Forget about him.” He says. “Forget about erwin and come spend time with me.” There’s a sense of sincerity in his voice. And Levi’s the kind of guy who sticks to his word. He doesn’t fuck around with people’s feelings.
“okay-”
Your phone rings and you curse.
“fuck, he’s calling.”
PART 2
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cowboyjen68 · 1 month
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This might be random and unrelated but I'm a high school senior taking my final exams which in my country determine the next 4 years of my life. it's now 4 days to the start of testing and Despite prepping well and feeling confident I woke up today to an empty mind. The mocks I took today were awful and I can't really speak to my parents about this as we aren't on speaking terms due to my grades seeing a drop before this and college apps. I'm consumed by brain fog and lack of motivation and feel completely lost on how to get back to the way I was yesterday, feeling equipped to handle this. I'm sorry...Kindly advise
Good morning. I put on my Mom flannel today so this is perfect timing. This might sound like silly advice but it is practical and tested.
Eat more protein. IF you eat meat, make it a steak. IF you don't find the most protein rich non meat product you can and have some. Drink lots of electrolights like gatorade or a pedialight hydrating drink. Having that extra brain boost can help some of that fog and lowers tension.
Put away the books and give yourself a few hours to stare at the wall, take a nap, read something fun. Walk outside if the weather allows and don't take your phone. These all can help with a reset and your brain will get back to thinking mode.
You can't control the full out come of 4 years in one day or even in a week of testing but you can focus on each day and doing the best you can. Sometimes not performing they way you really are expected to can tell you a little about your path and open opportunities that perhaps were hidden behind the goals you have been presented with thus far.
You will be okay. Rest a bit and then, get back in the saddle and do your best to focus on each task at hand as you get them.
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bitchesgetriches · 9 days
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{ MASTERPOST } Everything You Need to Know about How to Pay off Debt
Understanding debt:
Let’s End This Damaging Misconception About Credit Cards
Season 2, Episode 10: “Which Is Smarter: Getting a Loan? or Saving up to Pay Cash?”
Dafuq Is Interest? And How Does It Work for the Forces of Darkness?
Investing Deathmatch: Paying off Debt vs. Investing in the Stock Market
How to Build Good Credit Without Going Into Debt
Dafuq Is a Down Payment? And Why Do You Need One to Buy Stuff?
It’s More Expensive to Be Poor Than to Be Rich
Making Decisions Under Stress: The Siren Song of Chocolate Cake
How Mental Health Affects Your Finances
Paying off debt:
Kill Your Debt Faster with the Death by a Thousand Cuts Technique
Share My Horror: The World’s Worst Debt Visualization
The Best Way To Pay off Credit Card Debt: From the Snowball To the Avalanche
The Debt-Killing Power of Rounding up Bills
A Dungeonmaster’s Guide to Defeating Debt
How to Pay Hospital Bills When You’re Flat Broke 
Ask the Bitches Pandemic Lightning Round: “What Do I Do If I Can’t Pay My Bills?” 
Slay Your Financial Vampires
Season 4, Episode 3: “My credit card debt is slowly crushing me. Is there any escape from this horrible cycle?” 
Case Study: Held Back by Past Financial Mistakes, Fighting Bad Credit and $90K in Debt 
Student loan debt:
What We Talk About When We Talk About Student Loans
Ask the Bitches: “The Government Put Student Loans in Forbearance. Can I Stop Paying—or Is It a Trap?”
How to Pay for College without Selling Your Soul to the Devil
When (and How) to Try Refinancing or Consolidating Student Loans
Ask the Bitches: I Want to Move Out, but I Can’t Afford It. How Bad Would It Be to Take out Student Loans to Cover It?
Season 4, Episode 4: “I’m $100K in Student Loan Debt and I Think It Should Be Forgiven. Does This Make Me an Entitled Asshole?” 
The 2022 Student Loan Forgiveness FAQ You’ve Been Waiting For
2023 Student Loan Forgiveness Update: The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly 
Our Final Word on Student Loan Forgiveness 
Avoiding debt:
Ask Not How Much You Should Save, Ask How Much You Should Spend 
How to Make Any Financial Decision, No Matter How Tough, with Maximum Swag
Your Yearly Free Medical Care Checklist
Two-Ring Circus 
Status Symbols Are Pointless and Dumb 
Advice I Wish My Parents Gave Me When I Was 16 
On Emergency Fund Remorse… and Bacon Emergencies
Should You Increase Your Salary or Decrease Your Spending? 
Don’t Spend Money on Shit You Don’t Like, Fool
The Magically Frugal Power of Patience
The Only Advice You’ll Ever Need for a Cheap-Ass Wedding 
The Most Impactful Financial Decision I’ve Ever Made… and Why I Don’t Recommend It 
3 Times I Was Damn Grateful for My Emergency Fund (and Side Income) 
Buy Now Pay Later Apps: That Old Predatory Lending by a Crappy New Name 
Credit Card Companies HATE Her! Stay Out of Credit Card Debt With This One Weird Trick 
Ask the Bitches: Should I Get a Loan Even Though I Can Afford To Pay Cash? 
The Bitches vs. debt:
I Paid off My Student Loans Ahead of Schedule. Here’s How.
I Paid off My Student Loans. Now What?
Hurricane Debt Weakens to Tropical Storm Debt, but Experts Warn It’s Still Debt
The Real Story of How I Paid Off My Mortgage Early in 4 Years
Case Study: Swimming Upstream against Unemployment, Exhaustion, and $2,750 a Month in Unproductive Spending 
That’s all for now! We try to update these masterposts periodically, so check back for more in… a couple… months??? Maybe????
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