#this show on the other hand. i have a meeting tomorrow with a guy to go over some issues. and tbh i might start crying. idek about what. but

[ckret2]

Chapter 69 (lol) of human Bill Cipher being a prisoner with terrible fashion sense: beach episode!!! Well, lake episode. Close enough.

And a few other people come to town.

Just after dawn, a sleek, nondescript black government SUV, now dusty from a long drive, parked in front of the Gravity Falls Police Department. Three agents in sleek, nondescript black suits stepped out.

As they left the car, Blubs came out to meet them, Durland trailing behind him. "Agent Powers, Agent Trigger! Good to see you again." He shook Powers's hand, then glanced at the new agent. "And you are...?"

"Agent Dale!" The rookie shook Blubs's hand next, beaming. "Very pleased to meet you. I was just saying in the car—you have a beautiful town here, just beautiful."

"Wouldn't stop talking about it," Trigger muttered.

Blubs chuckled. "Why, thank you. We're quite proud of it ourselves."

Durland said, "Say, Agent Dale—don't you agents usually have tougher-sounding codenames?"

"Agent Clyde S. Dale. Like the horse."

"Ohhh. Yup, that'll do it."

"Sheriff Blubs," Powers said. "I trust you have the requested materials?"

"Right inside," Blubs said. "We've got the readings on last week's gravity anomaly from McGucket's scanners, and reports on this weekend's power surge."

"No overlap between the incidents?"

"None anyone here detected."

"Hmm. Has anything else strange happened since we were last in town?"

Blubs hesitated. "Well—never mind all that." He quickly shifted topics, "Say, I like your 'honk if you want to be arrested' bumper sticker." ("Oh is that what it says?" Durland asked.)

Agent Powers said solemnly, "I can get you the contact information of the shop where I bought it. It's a very nice small business run by art students."

"Would you? That'd be delightful."

Powers paused before following the cops and his agents into the police department, glancing out at Gravity Falls' town square—the modest little main street shops, the town hall, the statue of the town founder, the distinctive water tower with the faded muffin graffiti, and the familiar mountains surrounding the little valley town.

And then he let out a long, frustrated sigh.

"Fine," he muttered grumpily, glaring at the town as though it were an old rival as annoyed to see him as he was to see it. "Let's just get this over with."

He followed Blubs into the police department.

####

"Attention, everybody," Stan said, standing in the entryway with his fists on his hips, Soos beaming behind him. "I've got some great news!"

Abuelita and Bill glanced up from one of Abuelita's soap operas; Mabel and Dipper craned their necks to see Stan from where they were having dinner at the kitchen table.

Stan announced, "It's finally time!"

Dipper and Mabel blinked. Bill said, "Great. I'll get the ritual daggers, you can set up the blood red candles. Dolores?"

Abuelita said, "I will put out the good sacrifice altar." Bill laughed in delight.

"Yeah, yuck it up, you two," Stan said. "We're going fishing tomorrow! I've got the bait, I found everyone's rods, Soos and I patched up the old boat, I even—" He paused at the sound of the vending machine opening. "Hey! Ford!"

Ford ducked in from the gift shop. "What?" 

Stan chucked a hat at him. "I made you a fishing buddy hat! See, it's got your name! That's pretty good!"

"Oh." Ford inspected the letters haphazardly stitched onto the hat. "Why?"

"Fishing tomorrow! Half the summer's gone by, and we haven't gone fishing once! The guys from the lodge probably think I'm too ashamed to show my face. But it rained this weekend, the weather's just cleared up, now's the perfect time for fishing!"

"Oh," Ford said again, trying to drag his thoughts from magical tapes to fishing. "If you'd let me know earlier, I'd have built another fish-summoning beacon like the one on our boat." (Bill glanced curiously at Ford at the mention of an invention he didn't already know about; then stubbornly refused to be interested and dragged his gaze back to the TV.)

"No beacons! This isn't fishing for survival, this is about the sport! Asserting our manhood! Just the skill, strength, and patience of three men—and some women and children—against the lake!" (Soos beamed at being included amongst the men.)

Ford considered that. He didn't assert his manhood very often; usually he just sort of let his manhood hang around minding its own business, like an old cat that wants to be in the same room as you without socializing. It sounded like an intriguingly novel experience. "Okay, great. What time?"

"I want everyone on the road tomorrow morning! By six thirty at the latest."

The kids groaned.

"C'mon, dudes," Soos said encouragingly. "It'll be fun! After about three hours, once you're awake enough to think."

"No griping, we've gotta be there early to get a prime fishing spot," Stan said. "Tomorrow's a lodge fishing day. We're going home with a haul so big they'll be embarrassed they kicked me out!"

Dipper asked, "You mean the lodge for the Royal Order of the Holy Mackerel, right? Why'd they kick you out?"

Stan sighed, "Once the town found out about Ford, they realized I'd spent the last thirty years attending lodge meetings under his membership. Since I'd never undergone the—" He rolled his eyes and made finger quotes, "'sacred angler initiation rites,' they booted me. And they said I can't try to join again, just because of that one dumb little white lie! And my extensive criminal record."

Ford hurriedly crossed the living room to avoid blocking Abuelita's TV view. (Bill looked through him like he wasn't there.) "Stan got a lot more out of my membership than I did—once I'd finished my initiation I probably only ever attended three meetings. I tried to petition the Mackerels to let him rejoin."

"How'd they respond?" Mabel asked.

"They kicked me out too."

Bill scoffed. "Big deal! The Fishmasons and all their subordinate organizations are just a big boring social club that got you hotel discounts three hundred years ago. The mystique around them is more interesting than anything they actually do."

"Figuring that out is why I stopped attending after three meetings," Ford said. "I joined to learn about the dark secret underbelly of Western politics—not sit around eating charcuterie and fancy nuts while everyone talks about baseball and makes fun of me for not knowing what a fly ball is. It's a stupid term! Doesn't the ball always fly?"

"Really, they aren't even worth joining," said Bill Cipher, the only person to have ever been kicked out of seventeen separate Masonic lodges in seventeen separate bodies.

Reminded of the fancy nuts he was missing out on at this very second, Stan set his jaw in determination. "Yeah, well, they're a big boring social club that'll rue the day they kicked out Stan Pines! Out the door, six thirty, on the dot!"

"I don't have an alarm," Bill said. "Hey star girl, wake me at five."

Mabel shuddered at the thought of setting an alarm that early. "No way. You can borrow my radio."

"Hold on, I didn't say you're invited," Stan said. "We've already got a full boat! Me, my brother, the kids, and Soos and his girl. Nobody wants to sit on the lake with you for eight hours."

"I wanna sit on the lake with Bill!"

"Nobody but Mabel wants that."

"Relax! I don't want to sit on a boat with you underpainted clowns either," Bill said. "I just want to sit on the beach! I miss sunlight! Sunlight without being forced to hike through half the valley on no food or sleep."

(Ford decided that was his cue to make himself scarce. He scooted into the guest room.)

"Well," Stan said, "we're not staying thirty feet from the shore, we're not leaving anybody behind, and we don't trust you to stay put on the beach without your dumb magic bracelet—so how do you expect that to work."

"I'll just stay with Dolores."

Stan and Soos stared at Abuelita. Soos said, "Abuelita? Do you want to come?"

Abuelita considered it. "Sure. The weather is nice. I can catch up on my reading."

"Yes!" Bill hopped off the couch. "Then it's a plan!"

"Hey, hold on," Stan said as Bill breezed past him, "I didn't agree to—"

"Hey star girl!" Bill leaned into the kitchen. "Need your fashion services! I need a swimsuit before tomorrow."

Mabel gasped in delight. "What kind?"

"Whatever exposes the most skin without getting me arrested. I'm absorbing as much sunlight as possible."

"With sunscreen, right?" Soos said.

Bill turned and gave him a blank-faced stare.

Soos hopefully repeated, "With sunscreen?"

"Don't need it."

"You totally do, dude. Not many people talk about this? But having more melanin doesn't totally protect you from sun damage, it just slows it down," Soos said. "Trust me on this. When I was like eight, I went to this water park—

"Uh-huh, and three days later you were peeling off flakes of your own dead flesh," Bill said. "It's cute how you think you know more about humans from 23 years of passively being one than I do from 500,000 years of actively studying them."

"Oh."

"C'mon, star girl! No time to waste!" Bill grabbed Mabel's hand and tugged her off her chair.

"Wait, my sandwich—!" Mabel grabbed the rest of her dinner off her plate and shoved it in her mouth as Bill dragged her upstairs.

Abuelita shot him a dirty look as he passed, but turned back to her soap opera.

####

Just past five in the morning, Bill crept by the guest room door. He glanced through the wall as he passed; good, both of the Stans were in bed and sound asleep. Bill wouldn't have had a chance to get up to his mischief if Ford had decided to sleep downstairs.

He snuck behind the vending machine; paused to squint toward the future and confirm that when he looked at the stairs, he could only see himself using them anytime soon; then down to the elevator; and down, down to Ford's study.

Bill sighed in relief when the elevator slid open and he saw that Ford had left his study door ajar. He crept into the room, feet socked, hands gloved—Ford was the kind of paranoid to actually check for prints if he suspected anything, and Bill's triangular whorls were very distinctive—and looked through the objects piled on the shelves and furniture for any concealed sensors or cameras. The coast was clear.

He idly scanned the nearby shelves for any sign of his stolen time tape, didn't find it, but didn't expect to. That wasn't what he was here for.

He knelt in front of a half-disassembled filing cabinet, flipped through the files in the removed bottom drawer until he found several folders together about curses and hexes, and flipped through them until he found the one labeled "Curses & Hexes (w/ ingredients)". Good old Sixer, left everything exactly where Bill remembered it.

He rifled through the pages—"aha!"—until he found the paper he was looking for and pulled it out. Handwritten at the top of a ragged-edged piece of notebook paper were the words "Reverse Sunscreen". Bill read through the list of ingredients—"Oh, pepper juice, not pepper flakes, right."—then put the paper back.

He glanced back and forth between the past and present to ensure he put the files back exactly where he'd found them—again, considering Ford's paranoia, he might notice any difference.

And then he returned to the elevator and headed upstairs.

The whole time he was in the study, Bill didn't let himself glance at the back of the room where Ford's shrine to him used to be.

####

"Heya, pal," Bill said. "It's been a while! Where have you been hiding all summer?"

Gompers blinked up at Bill.

"I guess we both look different than we did the last time we met, huh? I think your makeover went better than mine, though! You didn't fall as far as I did." He didn't have as far to fall.

Gompers accepted the backhanded compliment with utter indifference.

"But hey, why talk about the past! Let's let bygones be bygones. Here." Bill knelt, pulled one of Ford's nutrition pills from the folds of his beach towel, and held it out. "A peace offering! A little snack for you."

Gompers eyed it warily.

"Come on, you've eaten worse things than this."

He delicately ate the pill out of Bill's hand.

"Thaaat's right. Tell me how you like that thing later."

Leaning on his car, Stan—the only other person who'd actually been ready to go at 6:30—looked over Bill's shirt and trout slippers, and asked warily, "You didn't forget that humans need to wear pants, right?"

Bill got to his feet, shoved his makeshift umbrella-cane under the same arm as his beach towel, and pulled up the hem of the puma shirt he'd stolen from the gift shop to reveal his bikini bottom. It was teal with little puffy gold triangles painted on. "Cover-up dress. Your arbitrary fashion rules are different for beaches."

Stan considered whether a t-shirt counted as a dress, decided he didn't know enough about dresses and he might as well give this one to Bill, and grunted. "Fine, you're legal."

"Am I free to go, officer?"

"Never compare me to a cop again."

"Stop acting like one!" Bill trotted off to his ride to wait for the other humans to assemble.

There wasn't room for all eight beachgoers in one vehicle; the Pines piled together in Stan's car, while the Ramirezes (including Melody—honorary future Ramirez—and Bill—magic braceleted to Abuelita) took Soos's truck. So that Abuelita didn't have to squeeze past the front seats into the back, Bill and Melody were assigned the back bench; when Bill greeted Melody and she only responded with a vague mumble and an averted gaze, he scooted closer to the middle of the bench, spread his knees to take up more space, and smugly pretended not to notice how Melody squeezed herself against the door.

By the time the Ramirez vehicle parked at the beach, the Pines family was already out of their car: Stan was glaring up the beach with his fists on his hips, the kids were unsuccessfully searching Mabel's supply bag for Dipper's sunscreen, and Ford was lingering back at the car, pretending to check the contents of their tackle box but actually trying to shake the sudden memory of weightlessness and water in his throat. As Bill passed, Ford muttered, "I'm surprised you wanted to get this close to the lake so soon. Considering." It had been less than a week since their joint near death experience.

"Why not? Nearly drowning was the most fun part of that hike." (Ford wondered whether that was a red flag, an underhanded comment about how unfun the rest of the hike had been, or just Bill being Bill; and, for his own peace of mind, decided it was probably the third thing.) "Looks like you got something fun out of the trip, too." Bill snapped the shoulder strap of Ford's waders.

Ford shoved Bill's hand away. "As long as I have them, I might as well use them."

When everyone caught up with Stan, he was scowling at four men, ages ranging from 50 to 80, wearing fishing vests and hats with the Holy Mackerel's distinctive stylized fish symbol. "Eugene," Stan muttered. "Eugene and his goons wanted to kick me out of the lodge for years. Just because I have a grating personality and am generally unpleasant to be around! And tried to get the lodge to pick a local affordable housing fund as our charity for fundraising one year!"

Ford gave Stan a surprised look. "You never mentioned you worked with an affordable housing charity."

"Yeah. The Compassionate Angel's Fund For Gravity Falls Tourism Business Owners Who Are Behind On Their Mortgage Payments."

Ford snorted. 

Bill said, "I think you should've gotten away with it just for being funny."

"Don't even look at them," Stan instructed the group. "These jerks aren't worth it." The collected group studiously avoided looking at the Mackerels, except Bill and Abuelita, who didn't care.

As they walked up the beach toward the pier and veered around the Mackerels, Stan suddenly stopped, turned straight toward them, and said loudly, "Why, Eugene! What a coincidence! I almost didn't notice you!"

A tall, elderly man with a fishing rod over one shoulder and a black wooden cane in his other hand glanced over at the Pines/Ramirez party. "Oh," he said, with a voice like he'd found a fly stuck in gum on his cane. "Hello, Stan-ley. We haven't seen you out on the lake this summer."

Stan laughed loudly, as if Eugene had told a hilarious joke. "Oh, that! I was just waiting for perfect fishing weather! I'mnot about to waste my time out on the lake on a bad fishing day!" He gestured behind himself, "Besides, I had to wait until my whole family was free to come along."

(Soos elbowed Melody and whispered excitedly, "He called us his family!")

Stan clapped his hands proudly on Dipper and Mabel's shoulders—who looked like they hoped the sandy beach would swallow them whole—and said, "I don't see your family, Eugene, where are they?"

"Dead." With mournful dignity, Eugene said, "I outlived my wife and all three of my children. Remember? You ate potato chips during my daughter's funeral."

Stan opened his mouth, shut it, and said, "Was that the really boring one that went like an hour?"

Ford, who didn't always have the best social instincts but could tell when Stan had screwed up, started shooing the rest of the family away from the scene, elbowed Stan, and said, "Let's get to the boat. You wanted to get a prime fishing spot, right?"

Eugene looked at Ford. "Ah. You must be the real Stanford Pines?" he said. "So I'm assuming, anyway. Apparently it's hard to tell you two apart."

Stan scowled; but before he could retort, Bill pushed past him to butt into the conversation. "Is it ever! Listen, take it from someone who's made this mistake—you've got to count the fingers on these two, every time."

Eugene huffed sardonically. "So it seems." (Ford self-consciously hid his hands in his pockets and shot Bill a dark look as he shuffled off with the rest of the family.)

"Say, while I've got your attention—name's Goldie, by the way—I couldn't help but admire your cane!" He tapped the tip of his umbrella against Eugene's cane. "I'm in the market for an upgrade from this substitute I've been using! That's no blackwood, right? That looks like true ebony."

"Good eye," Eugene said, surprised. "Yes, genuine Gaboon ebony."

"Must've dropped a lot of gold on this thing," Bill said appreciatively. "You've gotta tell me where you got it."

"I'm afraid I don't remember off the top of my head..."

"That's fine! Look it up—" (he twisted around to speak over his shoulder as Stan grabbed his arm and dragged him away) "—I'm sure we'll meet again!"

About fifteen feet away, Stan growled, "What was that?"

"Networking. I've got plans for that guy," Bill said. "Hey, did you hear him? Gaboon ebony?" He laughed condescendingly. "Easiest way to make a guy look like a moron, start talking about 'true' ebonies. Didja know the word 'ebony' comes from Egyptian? And when they talked about 𓍁𓈖𓏭𓆱, they were talking about African blackwood. Wood so hard it sinks and you have to tool it like a metal! Gaboon ebony is a flimsy usurper!"

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"But you don't pretend you do, and that's what makes you better than that guy." Bill tugged Stan down by the shoulder. "Listen, Fisherman. I can't tell you where the fish are biting but I can tell you where they're swimming. It'll give you an advantage, but you'll need to do the rest."

Stan squinted mistrustfully at Bill. "What's the catch."

"The catch is you have to accept my help. Do you want it or not?"

"And why are you offering?"

"Because I think these lodge guys are a bunch of snobs. And they should've chosen your charity. It was funny."

That, plus Stan had been the most reluctant to let Bill live; Bill had to convince him he'd made the right choice.

Bill gave Stan directions to a bunch of fish he could see underwater by the Island Head Beast's right earhole; and then, his good deed for the day done, he headed off to claim a spot on the beach.

Ford had gone into Tate & Backle's to properly purchase the clothing they'd borrowed after the eclipse, and Soos was helping set Abuelita up with a low beach chair and a large umbrella. Bill smoothed out a patch of sand about ten feet from Abuelita so he could lay out his beach towel and dump his supplies for the day beside it. While Mabel and Melody got the boat ready, Dipper wandered around looking for sunscreen to borrow. He saw Bill's tube, snatched it without asking, and generously coated his arms, legs, and face. Bill fought back a grin and pretended not to notice.

He tossed aside his t-shirt and fish slippers, settled down on the towel in his bikini, carefully squeezed several horizontal lines of reverse sunscreen across the front of his abdomen and thighs, and drew a few vertical lines in between to break them up.

Ford trudged over from the bait shop to tell Bill, "I thought you'd like to know those ridiculous fish slippers were thirty dollars."

Bill laughed. "Whoa! Seems like a lot of money for some cheap novelty shoes! It's too bad you decided to trap me in a position where I'm too destitute and powerless to make my own purchases, isn't it?"

"All right, all right." Ford's gaze caught on the bruise-blue line discoloring the skin from Bill's left shoulder to his right hip—had he gotten injured during one of his hikes the past week? Or had that always been there? Ford didn't think he'd ever seen Bill's body shirtless, maybe it had always been here—but then he noticed Bill's lines of sunscreen and barked a laugh. "I suppose you're not planning to rub that in."

"Brilliant observation." Bill began smoothing down the lines with a finger, maintaining the pattern he'd drawn.

"You wanted to come out here to suntan? I'm sure you're already aware of the cancer risks from tanning."

"If I'm in this body long enough to get cancer, I'll welcome it." Bill lay down, laced his hands behind his head, and gave Ford an obnoxious smile. "Anyway, basal cell carcinomas are delicious. There's something kinda romantic about them, you know?"

Ford ruminated on that with thoughtful bafflement, shushed the voice in his head trying to point out that Bill was waving ever more red flags, and concluded that this was perhaps humans weren't meant to comprehend the romanticism of skin cancer. "Fine."

"What's everyone standing around for?" Stan asked, trudging up to Soos and Ford. "C'mon, we're burning daylight! Let's..." He trailed off, staring at Bill.

His bikini top consisted of two triangular red cups. Each cup had an enormous staring eye.

"See something ya like?" Bill asked dryly.

Stan quickly looked away. "Ugh. That's indecent."

"What is?"

"That—design!"

"What's indecent about eyeballs?"

"It looks like...!" He gestured vaguely but emphatically.

"What? What does it look like? Tell me what it looks like, Stanley."

"Never mind!" He turned away with a huff and muttered to Ford, "Can you believe him?"

"I honestly didn't notice anything until you pointed it out." Ford waved back at Bill dismissively as he followed Stan toward the boat. "Enjoy your sunburn."

"I will! I haven't had a good sunburn in centuries! That's one of the best features of earthling bodies!" Bill got comfortable and shut his eyes.

Soos finished getting Abuelita settled, headed toward the boat—but hesitated as he passed by Bill. Bill opened an eye a crack to glower up at him. "What?"

Soos mumbled, "You could've just told me you wanted to get sunburned. I mean—yesterday."

"But you didn't ask if I wanted a sunburn," Bill snapped. "You just assumed I didn't know how they work. And that's the point: you assumed I was stupid instead of considering that maybe you didn't know my plan."

"Oh. Uh... sorry." Soos rubbed the back of his neck. "I didn't mean to make you feel stupid."

Bill's irritation flared higher. He sat up. "I didn't say you made me feel stupid," he hissed, voice low, talking fast. "There's nothing that you could do to make me feel stupid. But that doesn't mean you aren't treating me like I'm stupid, does it?"

"Whoa—!" Soos raised his hands defensively. "Chill, dawg. I didn't mean—"

"What's the phrase, do ut des? 'Do unto others'? Your species's phrase. Don't treat me like I'm stupider than you and I won't have to return the favor—sound like a fair deal, Question Mark?" Bill stared up at him challengingly, brows raised.

"But th— I w— You..." Soos's protests that he'd been doing nothing but trying to do-unto-others Bill got jumbled all around under the force of Bill's spotlight glare. His shoulders slumped. "Sure," he mumbled. "Sorry."

"Good." Bill lay back down. "Get out of my sun."

Soos trudged away; and Bill took a deep breath, tried to get in a meditative mindset where he could shut off his mind, and focused on the feeling of sunshine on his body.

He'd just about managed to drop into a proper trance when Abuelita called sweetly, "Bill? Would you grab a bottle of water for me?"

His face twitched toward a frown as he was dragged back to full consciousness. Hadn't Soos left them close enough for her? Some grandson. 

"Bill?"

He tried to think of an excuse to stay where he was; then growled in irritation and sat up. "Okay, okay." He couldn't afford to offend the chef with access to the poisons.

The bag with the water bottles was right behind Abuelita's elbow; but maybe her joints were stiff. Bill knelt to unzip the bag. "Another bodice ripper?" he asked, glancing at her book. 

"A powerful sorceress queen has been captured by her enemies. She just learned they are led by her former apprentice."

"I can sympathize with that." Bill dragged the bag up next to Abuelita's knee so he wouldn't need to grab another bottle for her later. "Who's the love interest—guileless guard? Heroic rescuer?"

"The apprentice."

"Sympathy's gone." Bill glanced toward the boat to see what the rest of the household was up to.

They'd already reached the spot Bill had indicated and started fishing. Soos was excitedly reeling in his line; the boat listed to one side as everyone crowded around him to see what he'd brought up. Stan dipped a net in the water to scoop up his catch.

It was a boot.

Everyone's faces fell in disappointment.

Except for Ford's, who gleefully snatched up the boot he'd kicked off during the eclipse when he fell in the lake. He dumped the water out of his boot, switched places with Soos, and began fishing the same spot.

Abuelita said, "My grandson has been very nice to you."

Bill looked at her warily.

"Hasn't he?" She had a polite smile and daggers in her eyes.

He had the oddest feeling that this was going somewhere dangerous. "Yeah yeah yeah, sure he has," Bill said. "Nothing but nice. I think I'll take a little stroll, stretch these legs! See ya!" He stood to escape.

He only got a step away before the enchanted bracelet pulled tight around his wrist. He turned around to stare in amazement.

Abuelita had wrapped the slack of the bracelet thread around her hand.

Bill had made a severe miscalculation.

"So," Abuelita said. "Why are you being mean to my grandson." It was a trap all along. She'd agreed to be handcuffed to him so she could corner him for an interrogation.

"Whaaat," Bill said. "Me? No way! I'd never!"

Abuelita stared at him patiently.

"I don't even talk to him," Bill said, trying to think of a conversational escape route.

She raised a brow.

Got it. "He's just too nice, you see! I don't know how to talk to a guy that nice," he lied. "Makes things awkward!" How could any grandmother complain about her grandson being called too nice? "Yeah—not Jesús's fault at all. I don't hold it against him."

"Ah," Abuelita said, "you aren't used to people being nice to you?"

Sure, they could go with that, try to get him some pity. "Yeah! You know how it is. King of Nightmares, scourge of the multiverse—I'm not a popular guy."

"But you have friends, don't you? The scary ones you brought with you to town last year? Are they not nice to you?"

Bill hesitated, trying to figure out his story now. "Sure—they're nice to me. They're my friends! They love me! They'd do anything I say!"

"Oh. So, you're only comfortable with people being nice to you when you can control them." Abuelita smiled sweetly.

Swift, efficient, and brutal. Bill gaped at her.

"I'm glad you have nothing against Soos," she said. "And that you won't be rude to him."

Bill snapped his mouth shut. "Of course not." He gave Abuelita a tight smile. Played like a fiddle. Even though he'd been lying, she still managed to make him look like a loser. How embarrassing. "If you don't mind, I've got a sunburn to get back to."

"I'm not stopping you." She let the extra thread on the bracelet cuffs unwind from her hand and drop to the sand.

Bill trudged back to his towel, snapping as he went, "I hope this is one of those books you hate where the couple only gets hitched because they've got a baby coming."

"The sorceress has magical birth control."

"Course she does."

Bill flopped onto his towel again and stared at the sky. Ouch.

####

(I've been promising Agent Powers AND a beach episode for ages, and we finally get to them both at the same time. Let me know what y'all think so for!)

[ham1lton]

don’t trust the bitch in apt 33!

— part one of four.

pairings: max verstappen x reader.

summary: your new apartment in monaco is amazing. it’s close to your friends, family and work, it has incredible amenities and your neighbours for the most part seem kind. the only issue is your upstairs neighbour, who games all night and sleeps all day, and is insufferably loud while doing it.

author’s note: also this is a little longer than my usual smaus. the usernames might also be slightly different as this is an au!!also i am updating my taglist!

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liked by bestie1, bestie2 and 245 others.

yourusername: moving day done!! shout out to my sexy movers <3

tagged: apartmentrush.

view all 78 comments

bestie1: the pizza was soooo good 😋

-> bestie2: so yum 😋

-> bestie1: so good… we should come around again this week and have it again??

-> bestie2: yes….. we should….

-> yourusername: 🙄 fine. come round on saturday!

workbestie: so excited to see you at work on monday!!

-> yourusername: me too!!! i’ll bring the coffee <3

apartmentrush: welcome to our community!

-> yourusername: glad to be here :)

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liked by landonorris, max.fan1 and 1,728,982 others.

gamermax: just completed another successful 24 hour stream! thank you all for helping me raise money for the sassy animal shelter! also thank you @ landonorris for stocking my fridge up!

view all 234,793 comments

user1: ur so fine.

-> user4: was i the only one staring at his hands the entire stream????

-> user9: i mean. we barely see his face, that’s probably why.

georgerussell63: lando is trying to kill you! that’s why he’s an awful community president. all that redbull will have your heart exploding.

-> landonorris: not this shit again 🙄

-> georgerussell63: profanity on a public platform? another TICK against your name.

user7: is it truly a max post without a cat meme?

*liked by gamermax.*

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from lnorris4@rushapartment.co.uk.

to grussell63@rushapartment.co.uk, c.leclerc16@rushapartment.co.uk, lhamilton44@rushapartment.co.uk, ynln77@rushapartment.co.uk, mverstappen33@rushapartment.co.uk and 45 others.

subject: MEETING REMINDER.

thanks,

lando norris.

rush apartment president.

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you head upstairs to knock on this max’s door, dressed in your night clothes. your sleep mask across your forehead, your bonnet on and your skin still glistening from your skin routine. you knock on the door loudly. you hear swearing as someone falls over and then stands to open the door. the door opens to show a twenty something guy with a pair of streaming headphones on his head. he gives you an obvious look up and down before tilting his head in confusion.

“uh, can i help you?” he asks, his eyes meeting yours with a mix of curiosity and concern.

“you can start by keeping it down,” you snap, crossing your arms over your chest. “some of us need sleep.”

his eyes widen slightly, and he pulls the headphones down around his neck. “oh, i’m sorry. i didn’t realise i was being that loud.”

“well, you are,” you retort. “it’s three in the morning, and i have to work tomorrow. this is ridiculous.”

he runs a hand through his messy hair, looking genuinely apologetic. “i didn’t know anyone was in the apartment below. no one’s been there for a while. i’m max, by the way.”

“yn,” you reply shortly, not in the mood for pleasantries. “just please, keep it down.”

“i will, i promise,” max says earnestly. “i’ve got these noise-canceling headphones, and sometimes i forget how loud i’m being. i’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

you study him for a moment, still irritated but starting to believe his sincerity. “okay. goodnight, max.”

“goodnight, yn,” he replies, giving you a small, apologetic smile. “and good luck at work tomorrow.”

you turn to leave, feeling a mix of lingering frustration and unexpected intrigue. as you head back downstairs, you can’t help but wonder if he’ll actually keep his promise.

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•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

MEETING TRANSCRIPT.

[sound of murmuring voices and rustling papers as the meeting starts]

NORRIS: alright, everyone, let's get started. we’re here to address some noise complaints. yn, you had a specific issue?

LN: (angrily) yes, my upstairs neighbor, max, keeps making noise late at night. i've talked to him, but it hasn’t stopped.

RUSSELL: (salty) typical. this is why i should have been president. i would’ve sorted this out immediately.

NORRIS: (sighs) george, not now. let’s focus on the issue at hand. alex, any thoughts?

ALBON: (trying to smooth things over) well, it’s important for everyone to be considerate of their neighbors. but, you know, people have different schedules. maybe max can use quieter equipment?

HAMILTON: (working on his laptop, half-heartedly) yeah, yeah. quieter equipment. great idea. can we move on? i’ve got a deadline.

LECLERC: (confused) what’s going on again? can we just finish this? i want to go home and see my uh… friends.

TSUNODA: (munching on snacks) i brought these for everyone! maybe we can bribe max with food to be quieter?

LN: (exasperated) i don’t think snacks will solve the problem. i just want to sleep in peace.

NORRIS: (rubbing his temples) max isn’t here because he owns his apartment, and these meetings are mandatory for renters or new buyers. so, we’re kind of stuck.

RUSSELL: (grumbling) see? this is why lando’s presidency is a joke.

NORRIS: (angry) oh give it a rest, george!

ALBON: (egging them on) oh, come on, george. let’s not make this about the election again. unless you want us to go over our allocated time.

HAMILTON: (still working) can we wrap this up? i’m really busy here.

BUTTON: (chuckling) you’re always busy lewis.

RUSSELL: jenson why are you even here. these meetings aren’t mandatory for you.

BUTTON: (smirking) maybe i like the company.

LECLERC: (standing up) i’m leaving. this is pointless.

TSUNODA: (offering more snacks) anyone want some chips before we go? charles, you’ll need the energy when you go visit your ‘friends’ later.

HAMILTON: and let them know to keep it down, some of can’t work through all that noise.

LECLERC: (blushing) uh, yeah, sure... i’ll let them know.

NORRIS: (defeated) fine. meeting adjourned. we’ll try to talk to max again, but for now, let’s just… go back to our lives.

[sound of chairs scraping and people leaving, with no resolution in sight]

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new taglist: @23victoria @maxlarens.

— want to be tagged for any future works? join my new taglist!

[dumbseee]

prom queen.

when bakugo wants to invite you to prom, but doesn’t know how to do it.

bakugo katsuki x fem!reader.

warning: bad english/grammar :p / excuse any typos!

_

"just go for it! she won’t say no!" mina encouraged her friend, smiling from ear to ear after kaminari let it slipped that bakugo wanted to invite you to prom. the poor boy did his best to not meet the glaring gaze of his friend. "forget about it! i don’t know why dunce face said that, it’s not true!" he yelled, throwing a pillow at mina. "liar! i knew you liked her! do you think you’re slick with the way you look at her during class or training? you even proclaimed yourself her male partner for training, you don’t even let another boy approach her." she crossed her arms on her chest, looking at her friend with a knowing smile. bakugo was burning up and could feel the palm of his hands starting to sparkle from the sweat. as he was about to explode in the dorm’s living room, another voice calmed him instantly.

"we’re here!" you said, arms full of shopping bags and followed by momo and jirou. mina jumped off the couch and ran to them, while bakugo kept his eye on you the whole time. you looked so beautiful, with your hair styled in a high ponytail you even put some light makeup on and damn you looked so good. "oh my god! you went to buy your dresses for prom?" mina asked and you nodded, you seemed to notice the burning gaze of bakugo on you since you turned to look at the three men sitting on the couch. you lifted your hand to wave at them and only bakugo ignored you, turning his gaze away from you and back on the tv. you frowned and bite your lip, you didn’t know why bakugo was this way with you, you were convinced that he hated you. mina brushed it off and dragged you and your friends to her dorm so you could show her the dresses you brought.

prom was tomorrow and you still haven’t got anyone to go with you. of course, you had a lot of people asking you to go with them, and they were cute guys, but you always said no. why? because you were still waiting for someone to ask you for prom. "hey, y/n! can you help me take these boxes back to the storage room?" iida asked you, snatching you out of your reveries. "oh? yes, of course!" you smiled at him, making the class rep blush slightly, you got up and took the boxes on the ground, you started walking towards the exit, thinking that iida was following you. "i think we did a great job with the decorations, don’t you think iida?" when he didn’t answer, you frowned and turned around to look at him, you almost dropped the boxes on the ground when you saw bakugo, instead of iida, holding the boxes and walking behind you. "bakugo?" you asked, slowing down your pace. the blond swallowed before looking away, a slight pink colour colouring his cheekbones. "four eyes had other things to do." he mumbled and you nodded, you didn’t want to ask more questions and make him angry, he seemed pissed off enough to be around you and having to carry those boxes. "are those heavy?" you were surprised that he spoke up again, you turned to look at him, a questioning look on your face. "i’ll carry them for you." he simply said, carrying his boxes on his right hand to scoop yours with his left. "i-it’s too heavy! let me help!" you tried to snatch back your boxes but he dodged you with ease.

"hey y/n!" a new voice stopped you from voicing your concern again, you turned to face the person calling you and it happened to be awase. you couldn’t see it but bakugo’s grip on the boxes had tightened as he glared at the boy who ran to you, he was blushing and seemed extremely uncomfortable. he tried his best to avoid bakugo’s gaze but it was hard and the blond’s aura was suffocating. "u-um, are you b-busy? i wanted to ask you something." he was fidgeting with his hands while looking away. "for now i’m helping my class decorate the ballroom for prom, and i’m going to the storage room with bakugo, is it important?" bakugo knew where this was going, he wasn’t dense and could read the room. if it was anyone else, he’d have left the scene immediately, but it was you. and ain’t no way is he letting you go to prom with this idiot. "kinda, i was wondering if you had someone to go to prom with?" he rubbing the back of his head and finally made eye contact with you.

you smiled at the boy, your heart tugging a little when you thought about the fact that the boy you wanted to go to prom with was standing behind you, probably cursing you out because you were wasting his time. you signed softly before smiling at awase, about to accept his offer, even though you really didn’t want to. when all of a sudden, you felt a strong arm wrapping around your shoulders. you looked up, and blushed furiously when you saw bakugo, looking straight at awase with that hard expression on his face. "she’s going with me, now scram before i make you fucking explode." he spat, not once looking at you. awase left in a hurry, blurting out apologies. "thanks, but you didn’t have to do that." you said, a sad smile on your lips, now you had to go to prom alone while all your friends would go with their crushes. bakugo looked at you, lifting up one of his brow. "you didn’t have to pretend you were going with me, you know." you looked down and the blond lifted up your face with two of his fingers, making you blush again. his face was now inches from yours and you didn’t know where to look, his lips looked soft but his red irises were so beautiful from up close. "you’re going with me to that stupid prom, pretty girl." he whispered, your eyes widened while he grinned at you, taking a step back and walking towards the storage room.

of course, bakugo made sure to walk in front of you so you wouldn’t be able to see his red cheeks and how he was trying to catch his breath.

[obsessedwithhotmen]

✿⁎⋆ PAUL ⇢ *-ALL MINE-* ⇠ LAHOTE ⋆⁎✿

⇾ (Twilight) Paul Lahote x fem!reader

⇾ Summary: you had a few too many drinks at the bonfire.

⇾ Warnings: smut, drunk sex, raw doggin it, light spanking and hair pulling, dirty talk.

It started off with having no drinks, if Paul couldn’t get drunk due to his wolfie ways, than there was no point in you having drinks either, after all you didn’t want to have fun without him. Then slowly, after a lot of convincing from the girls, you had your first drink of the night - and then your second - and then your third. As the night went on, you started to lose count of the drinks you had consumed, all you knew was that Paul looked way too good while he was sat joking around with Embry, Jacob and Quil. He had come to the bonfire in a button up shirt -something extremely out of character for him - and his hair was slightly tousled from the rough housing between the guys. You couldn’t take your eye off him.

After some encouragement from Kim, you had went up to your lover and bugged him until he had enough and dragged you into the house and away from everyone else.

That was how you found yourself bent over the bathroom counter, hands trying to grip onto any surface possible, your hips being relentlessly thrusted into the solid surface as Paul pounded in you from behind. Shameless moans escaped your lips as Paul pressed harder against your back, forcing you further onto the counter, your breasts coming into contact with the icy cold surface. “Fuck-” Paul hissed, he stilled inside you, bending over your body so he could mumble in your ear. “Should’ve heard what they were thinking ‘bout you.” He started. “Wanted to beat the shit out of them.” He thrusted hard once, stilling once again. “But then I thought how much better it would be if I fucked you close enough so they could hear you.” He felt as you clenched around his length, thighs quivering at the thought of the other pack member listening in on you and Paul. “Yeah… you like that? Want them to hear your desperate little whining.” You frantically nodded your head, unable to give a response as a shockwave of pleasure filled your body when you felt his fingers meet your clit.

Paul let out a growl as he heard some of the guys groaning and telling him to quiet down, only stirring him up to do more.

He pulled away from your body, his chest no longer pressed up against your back, as he continued his relentless thrusting. “Paul!” You cried out, his fingers picking up pace the more he fucked into your tight hole. One hand moved down in order to grip onto Paul’s forearm, nails digging into his flesh as you attempted to pull his hand away from your sensitive bud, only enforcing him to continue.

“That’s right.. say my name.” He growled, his voice deep and intimidating, giving you a light pinch that earned a yelp from your quivering lips.

Your head lifted up from the bench and your eyes met his in the mirror in front of the both of you. “Say-” thrust “my-” thrust “fucking-” thrust “name!”

You were certain your hips would be more than bruised by tomorrow morning, but that didn’t stop you from biting your lip and back arching from the overwhelming pleasure. “Fuck Paul!” You slurred, eyes struggling to stay open and grasp his reaction.

His brows were furrowed and his jaw was clenched s he pulled out of your seeping hole, reaching a hand down to rub his tip against your clit and nudge your tight entrance. A smirk showed on his face as he watched you attempt to push back against him to fit his entire length into your already red and bruised cunt. His other hand moved up to your hair, gripping a makeshift pony tail and pulling you back so you were stood up and pressed up against him. “I can’t hear you.” He whispered tauntingly in your ear causing you to shiver at his tone of voice.

“Please, Paul! Need you so bad.” You whined, rubbing your ass against his rock hard dick. “Want you in me.” Your eyes began to water the more you grew desperate, wanting nothing more than for Paul to man handle you with all his wolf strength.

The man behind you was staring down at your ass, watching the way it moved against his pulsing dick. He let out a groan, “want, or need?”

Immediately you began sputtering out words, “need, need you Paul. Please fuck me, need you so much.”

Relief filled your body as he removed himself from you, and once again his dick was at your entrance. “Love hearing my pretty girl beg.” He grunted before shoving his cock past your clenched walls, receiving a drawled out moan in response.

There was no time to be bashful about your moans when Paul’s cock was hitting further than ever, brushing past your sensitive walls and pounding into your dripping hole. It didn’t take much longer before you feel the familiar feeling in your stomach growing rapidly, your moans only growing in pitch and volume before your entire body began to convulse.

Even as he watched your orgasm hit, he didn’t slow down, continuing after your orgasm had finished and your body was twitching at the sensitivity, only opting to slow down as he reached his own climax.

He stilled inside you, pressing as close as he could to your body, allowing for his seed to fill deep in your begging hole, brain clouded due to lust and not thinking of the repercussions.

You could hear his heavy breathing over your own, added with quiet growling and grunts, had your body not been so sensitive after the prior orgasm than you would have happily pushed back against him to continue the moment.

‘Finished yet?’

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

[coldfanbou]

It Started as a Rental

So to explain this piece, me and @i-am-lifeform24 were both struggling and decided to challenge each other with a concept decided by the other person.

Length 2.9K

Hanni X Mreader

Waiting outside the cafe, you look around, waiting for your date to arrive. You flick through your phone, looking through her profile again. “Hey? Is this you?” You look down at the petite woman in front of you, her long, straight hair swinging as she comes to a stop. It was your girlfriend for the night, Hanni. She held her phone up to you, showing your profile. 

“Yeah, that’s me. Let’s head inside,” You say, opening the door to the cafe and letting her in first. As you order and sit down, you think about your situation. It was a bit pathetic having to rent a girlfriend, but you thought it necessary. Your sister’s wedding was coming up, and you didn’t want to be the only one without a partner; you had bluffed your way into making your family believe you were dating. You just need to find the right woman to bring with you, and Hanni was the first profile you liked after a friend told you about the website for renting girlfriends.

“It’s nice to meet you,” you say nervously, trying to start a conversation. 

“Let’s get down to business before this date really begins,” she says politely, with a hint of amusement. Getting this part out of the way first is a lot easier. So, you hired me for five days, one of them being a wedding. I hope you're prepared to play the role of a loving boyfriend." She ruffles through her purse as she looks for something. “You saw my rate on the website; there is just the matter of extras that I personally provide.”

You give her a quizzical look, “Extras? What do you mean extras?”

“Well, most guys want to have sex, and that costs extra. The website might say sex isn’t allowed, but I’m willing to make some…under the table deals. There are limits to what I’m willing to do, and each thing will raise the price, so I just need you to fill this out so I can name a price.” Hanni hands you the piece of paper with kinks listed on one side and prices on the other. 

“Uhm, I’m not interested in this. I just need you for the wedding and these few days to get to know you.”

“Oh, well, that's alright then. I’ll just bring this along with me if you change your mind,” Hanni says, somewhat surprised. She grabs the paper and places it back in her bag. Let’s have fun these next few days.” Hanni puts her bag down and gives you a gentle smile as your drinks arrive. The next few days, you and her go out to different places, and you learn more about her. After your initial worry melts away, you begin to feel close to her.

The day before the wedding, you meet with Hanni again. As you walk by your cafe meeting spot, you find her munching on a piece of bread. She excitedly waves at you, “Right here!” She yells with a mouthful of bread. You take a seat beside her, feeling a little shy as you feel her kiss your cheek. “Did you sleep well?” 

You give her a nod, “Yeah, I slept well. Thanks for asking, did you?” 

“Mhmm! I dreamt of you last night.” She says with a giggle. 

“The wedding is tomorrow. Are you ready?”

“Ready as can be,” Hanni says, taking a sip of her coffee before returning to her bread. “I have my dress picked out and everything. She grabs your hands suddenly; you can feel the crumbs on her fingers as she intertwines your hands. “I’m really nervous about meeting your family. Do you think they’ll like me?”

“I’m sure they’ll love you, Hanni. Come on, we have a busy day ahead of us.” You say as you stand up, taking Hanni by the hand as you walk out of the cafe. Spending the day looking at clothes for the wedding, you can’t help but think about Hanni’s beauty and just how cute she was. Hanni lifted a dress off one of the racks, placing it in front of herself and imagining how she looked in it. 

“Do you think this is okay?” The dress she chose was a simple black one; it had oval gaps along the chest as a distinguishing feature. It wouldn’t attract any attention at the wedding otherwise. “I think I’m going to try it on,” Hanni says before scurrying to the closest changing room. She comes out a few minutes later wearing her chosen dress. You looked her up and down; she looked cute. If she had a different shirt under it, it would look better, and you told her so. Hanni pouted before looking around the store and finding a shirt she thought would look better. It had some slight frills that she liked, and as she came back out of the dressing room, you thought she was right. Her outfit was nearly perfect. “How about now?”

“You look great,” you gulp, “Really pretty.” You bring a smile to Hanni's face. She jumps toward you, wrapping her arms around you. You slowly wrap your arms around her, enjoying the hug until you feel her arms tap your side. You let her go, and she changes back to her regular clothes before you begin to search for your clothes. You’re forced to change into several outfits as Hanni hands you several different pieces of clothing, unsatisfied with each one. “Hanni! We’ve gone through so many clothes. Is there nothing that looks good?” You complain.

She brings you another outfit and kisses your cheek as she hands it to you. “I’m sure this is the one.” Her soft smile is enough to convince you, and you head back into the dressing room. As you come back out, Hanni claps her hands, her teeth shining, and she smiles. “That’s the one!” Hanni walks around you, looking it over one more time as she compliments it. As you head to the register, you pay for both sets of clothes. “I can pay for the dress and shirt.”

“No, I got it. Let me take care of it.”

Hanni looks at her feet for a second, and a small sniffle escapes her before she meets your eyes. “Thank you.” After you leave the building, Hanni spins around on her heel, beaming a smile to you.“We have everything now.”

“Yeah, I can pick you up tomorrow for the wedding.”

“No, no. I’ll meet you at your place. Just give me the address. I’ll be there early in the morning.” 

You nod your head. “Alright, that sounds good.” After you give her directions, you and Hanni part ways for the day. 

As you walk away, Hanni grabs your arm, turns you around, and presses her lips onto yours, having to stand on her tippy toes to do so. “There, now we can say bye. Get home safely.” She says with some concern in her voice.

“You get home safely, too.” 

Early the next morning, you wake up after hearing a knock on your door. Hanni is waiting in her wedding outfit. You blink a few times and rub your eyes as you stare at her. She had added a pair of thigh-high socks with a small bow design around her knees and a bow around her head. She gives you a simple smile. “Wake up, sleepy head.” She says cheerily. Today’s the big day, and we need to get you ready. I’ll make you breakfast while you get yourself dressed, okay?”

“Yeah, thanks, Hanni.” You say before kissing the top of her forehead. 

She playfully pushes you away, her small hands cupping your cheeks. “Stop!” She yells, a smile on her face. “You’re going to ruin my makeup. Go change already, mister.” She watches you walk into your room, looking over her shoulder to make sure you didn’t sneak up on her. When you come back out a few minutes later, Hanni is sitting by the counter with an omelet. “You…didn’t have very much in your fridge.” She says weakly.

“Today is when I normally go for the groceries,” You reply. 

Hanni pats the seat next to her, “Sit. Let me feed you.” You follow along, sitting next to her as she stabs into the eggs and brings some to your lips. “Say Ahhh.” You open your mouth and take in the freshly cooked eggs. Hanni giggles as she watches you chew. “How is it? Good?”

“Yeah, it’s good. Thanks, Hanni, you’re a pretty good cook.”

“You have to be when you like food,” she says with a chuckle. Now, eat up; we have to get there early.” Hanni takes the time to wipe your face. “You look very handsome in this,” she says as her eyes meet yours.

“You look beautiful too. I really like the bows; they’re cute on you.” You pinch Hanni’s cheek; it’s squishy. You finish breakfast before heading to the chapel, where you introduce Hanni to your family. She greets them well, making a good first impression. 

“I think they like me.” She says as she sits next to you on the bench. 

“Why wouldn’t they like you? You’re so cute and cuddly.”

“Don’t embarrass me!” Hanni slaps your hand away as you try to pinch her cheeks. She gives you a cute pout, her eyebrows furrowing as she tries to look angry. A few seconds later, she breaks, smiling and laughing, and she links her arm around yours. “I hope this part isn’t too long. I get antsy if I sit for too long.” Lucky for the two of you, it was a short ceremony, and you were soon off to the party.

You felt happy with Hanni by your side as you made your way to your seat. She attracted some attention as people asked how she ended up with you. It hurt your pride that they would ask that in front of you, but Hanni’s response made you feel warm and fuzzy inside. “Why wouldn’t I be? He’s kind and makes me feel safe. He makes me feel special when we’re together. I wouldn’t want to be with anyone else.” She’d say those words while she held your hand, sometimes holding your arm tightly. As you sat down with her, Hanni scooted her chair closer. “Some of your family can be very mean. Do we have to stay here for a long time? I’d rather just spend my time with you.” 

“Just a little while. They’re going to want to do a few dances.” Hanni nods her head, staying by you the entire party. When it was time for the couple dances, Hanni gripped you tightly; your hand and shoulder felt like they were going to be crushed. “A little looser would be great, Hanni.”

“Oh, sorry,” Hanni says as she loosens her grip. You stare into her eyes, knowing she’ll be gone after this. You can’t help but get a little teary-eyed as you look at her. Hanni tilts her head, giving you a confused look. “Don’t cry. There’s no way it hurt that much.” She says, wiping away your tears with one of her hands. “There, all better.” She places her head on your chest as the dance continues. Once it was over, you and Hanni took your leave, wishing everyone well before making your way home. “That was fun, wasn’t it?” She says as she kicks her shoes off. 

You take a seat on the couch, taking a deep breath before looking over at Hanni. She strolls over to you, her hair swaying as she comes to a stop in front of you. She places a hand over your chest and straddles you. You’re caught off guard by her actions. “Hanni?”

“Just this once, I won’t charge you,” You’re confused by her words, but your train of thought goes off the tracks when you feel her press her lips against yours. Her hands move down your biceps to your forearms before she places your hands on her waist. Her hands shift to your shoulders, holding onto them as you feel her grind against you.  

You hold your lips against Hanni’s, your hands digging into her. When you finally break apart, you stare at each other in silence. Hanni undoes the buttons on her dress and lifts it over her shoulders, leaving her in her shirt. You kiss her neck softly as she begins to lift her shirt; your hands snake under it, and you squeeze her modest chest through her bra as she throws it off. Your eyes move up and down her body, taking in her perfectly smooth skin and the clothes she was left in. All that remained were her bra, panties, and her thigh highs. You run your fingers along her spine, moving up toward her bra. You can feel her shiver. Unlatching her bra, you drop it to the floor. You lean in and kiss Hanni’s chest, leaving a trail of kisses as you move upward. She cranes her neck back, cooing. “Take your clothes off, too.” She whines. 

You stop for her, throwing your blazer and shirt off with haste. Hanni helps you with your pants, having to stand up to pull them off you. Now clad in only your underwear, you stare into Hanni’s eyes again. You both knew what you wanted. You leaned down and picked Hanni up. Carrying her to the bedroom, she wrapped her arms and legs around you, clinging to you as you kissed her neck again. 

You dropped Hanni onto your bed, on top of her, before you stripped her of her underwear. She was shaved. As your eyes wander upward, you notice her breathing heavily. You take the time to get rid of the last piece of clothing keeping you from one another. Crawling back over her, you press your lips against hers, your hands running up and down her thighs. You felt her thigh highs; the thin fabric was smooth to the touch, allowing your hands to continue gliding over her. Hanni spreads her legs slowly, and you take notice. You glance down and reach for her slit. Hanni trembles as she feels your fingers run along it. A gentle moan escapes her lips as you tease her.  Hanni holds onto the bedsheets as her mind becomes filled with the pleasure you’re giving her. 

Your fingers were becoming slick as you teased Hanni, your cock began to ache as you watched the petite woman enjoy herself. Your cock tapped against her belly. Hanni looked down and reached for it, her small hand struggling to wrap around it. You groan as her palm rubs against the head. “Don’t tease me anymore,” Hanni moans. She stretches her legs outward and pulls apart her lips. You take a step back, taking in every detail. “Please…fuck me.”  

You gulp and nod your head slowly. Aligning yourself with Hanni’s cunt you push the head in slowly, watching her reaction. Hanni cranes her neck, her eyes closed as she grips the sheets and lets out a deep groan. You hold onto Hanni’s waist, shuddering as you feel her walls squeezing your cock from all sides. You push more inside of Hanni, feeling her walls split apart as you move deeper into her. You moan her name, feeling her walls tighten around you as you do. 

Hanni grabs your wrists, gripping them tightly. “Keep going; I feel so full.” You thrust the rest of your cock inside. Both of you moan loudly, filling the room with the sound. Hanni wraps her legs around your waist; you can feel her feet trying to push you further inside.  You remain buried inside Hanni for a moment, allowing you both to catch your breath. You thrust slowly at first before picking up some speed. Hanni’s warm and wet walls rub the head of your cock as you push in, granting you great pleasure. Her moans are like music to your ears, but you can’t resist her lovely lips. You steal a kiss from her, muffling her beautiful moans. Her arms wrap around your head, keeping you connected to her. 

The rhythm of your thrusts breaks down as you go on; you can feel yourself nearing your climax. Hanni’s walls began to squeeze you tighter as well. You met her eyes and saw she was reaching her limit. “Hanni, I’m going to cum.”

“Me too,” She whimpers; her hands wrap around you tightly, and she pushes you in deeper with her legs. “It’s okay if you cum inside,” She whispers into your ear.

You give her a few more thrusts before cumming inside of her cunt. Hanni’s wall clamps down on your cock as you trigger her climax. You paint her walls white as her cunt greedily takes it all. 

Pulling out slowly, you stare at Hanni’s body. She had a thin layer of sweat over her. You fall beside her, staring at her. She turns onto her side, staring back at you. A soft smile forms on her face. “I’d love it if we could meet again.” She says with a hint of shyness in her voice. There’s a moment of silence between the two of you, “I…um, had a really good time with you these past few days. You weren’t like the others.” Hanni pauses again, “I meant what I said at the wedding. You’re really a good guy, and…” Hanni struggles to find the words. “Do…you want to meet again? I mean…without the website.”

You caress Hanni’s cheek, your thumb moving across it gently. She places her hand over the top of yours. “I’d love to go on another date.” Hanni gives you a sincere smile and moves closer to you, burying her head in your chest as you both drift off to sleep.

[undreaming-fanfiction]

The Corroded Coffin used to think they'd be the new Metallica or Judas Priest. But where their passion and hard work never lacked, their big break just never came.

What did come, however, was an unexpected change of their career path.

It started innocently enough - they went through yet another failed meeting with recording studios, they'd travelled pretty far and it was for nothing. Instead of going back to Hawkins and risking another one of Eddie's road rages, they decided to break into an abandoned house and drink their sorrows away.

That is, until their empty bottles started collecting themselves, something invisible touched Gareth's shoulder and the dusty floor started showing written messages.

Jeff wanted to flee. Gareth to faint. But Eddie and Freak just shrugged. Eddie gestured towards the approximate ghost location and said "by the power of I don't give a shit anymore, I compel you to sit down and stop it, we'll clean the bottles when we leave tomorrow."

The rattling stopped. There was a moment of silence when the Corroded Coffin actually thought it had worked, but then the ghost overcame its shock and physically threw Eddie, his bandmates and their things out.

They sat on the wet grass for a while and contemplated their whole exitence. Eddie was pretty shaken about the whole thing because he'd just managed to royally piss off a ghost and lived to tell the tale. But apart from absolutely terrifying...it was also fun?

And his friends seemed to think the same. Jeff patted his shoulder and said: "not bad for a first touch with the unknown, huh?"

They stayed in the area and tried again. They decided to tape over their promotional video - not so great, they had to admit after rewatching it - and started documenting their ghostly encounters. And maybe it was just the timing, maybe it was their interactions and personalities, but it worked. They showed some of their tapes to a local TV station and they got a cautious yes, more than they ever had with their music.

They got assigned a small crew, Fred with a camera and Chrissy for sound, wrote their own episodes and did plenty of research. And they got to try quite a lot of different approaches with their ghostly friends. Eddie was amazing at taunting the ghosts, making them appear if there were any present. Gareth had a wonderfully calming presence, managing to save the CC's ass several times. Jeff was the brains, he made sure they'd always know the history of the house and the probable identity of the ghost. And Freak decided to dabble in the occult sciences with a terrifying precision. There could never be enough salt in Eddie's van for all the circles he made.

It all went well until they learned of the Creel House in Hawkins. They went there, did their research and before entering the house, they ordered some pizza for dinner. They assumed it would be over by midnight, thinking it was just another sad story of an unresolved murder, but the ghost of Henry Creel was out for blood.

Oh, and he also controlled the spiders of the house. That was new.

To set the scene: The crew had fled the house about an hour ago. Eddie was crouching behind an old table, blocking Henry's barrage of kitchen knives, shouting "IS THIS THE BEST YOU'VE GOT?!". Gareth was behind the table with Eddie, but he went more into the wailing territory with "I DON'T THINK THIS WILL HELP YOU MOVE ON, HENRY!". Jeff had blocked himself in the pantry and kept trying to identify the triggering moment - "I think he's re-enacting the murder of his mother, guys! Does that help?!" (it doesn't). And Freak gave up on salt circles and was now tossing handfuls of salt around the house with a questionable technique but unwavering determination.

Suddenly, a car horn.

Then, a bitchy male voice: "Are you coming to get your pizza or what? I have other customers to get to!"

Eddie gritted his teeth as Henry added heavy pans to the mix and hit his shoulder. "We're a little busy surviving here! Ask Chrissy to pay you!"

There was a muffled and annoyed "ugh" from behind the door and then: "Is it Henry again?"

Eddie just blinked. Gareth was more ready to answer: "Sure is! He's not a fan of our exorcism!"

And the pizza guy didn't leave. He just huffed and said something that sounded suspiciously like "amateurs".

Eddie wanted to punch him.

But before he could do that, the front door opened. Gareth held his breath, half expecting a sound of knives hitting their target.

Instead, they heard a few more steps and then: "What the fuck, Henry?!"

A faint whispering reached their ears, but they couldn't decipher it. But the pizza guy could.

"I don't care they didn't get your permission, Henry. Yeah, it's annoying, but what are you going to do? If more people die in this house, it's going to get demolished. You know that. Yeah, I know the house is old, but it's great for your spiders, right? They'd be homeless. Do you want to make your spiders homeless, Henry?"

They dared to peek from behind the table, and Eddie had to pinch himself. Because in the middle of the dusty dining room stood one of the prettiest young men Eddie had ever seen, hands on hips and arguing with something invisible.

The man completely ignored them.

"That's what I thought. Now, apologize. No, they can't hear you, so get creative."

All four CC members stared as words formed in the spilled salt: "SORRY".

The pizza guy seemed to be pleased. "Good job, Henry. Now, let me get them out of here and I promise I'll get the Party to bring you some new spiders when they capture them outside, yeah? Three knocks, slide them in a glass behind the door. Got it. Take care, Henry."

Only then did he look at Eddie and the others and frowned. "That's your cue to leave. Get your stuff and go, now." And as they were quickly collecting their scattered notes and recording equipment, he added: "and say goodbye when leaving. Don't be rude."

Four rushed "Bye, Henry!" and "Sorry, Henry"s later, the Corroded Coffin was standing on the grass outside, feeling the setting sun on their skin and smelling fresh pizza. Gareth promptly paid for the delivery, and everyone proceeded to thank their mysterious savior.

"I'm Steve," he said after they'd all expressed their thanks, "and you're stupid. Do you really do this without anyone who sees and hears them? Do you just stumble blindly into haunted houses for a fun and stabby time?"

Eddie had to swallow down a very bitchy response of his own. "Sorry to stroke your ego even more, pretty boy, but a man of your talents is hard to come by."

And Steve, to Eddie's massive shock, just cocked his head and fluffed his hair, probably out of habit, but damn. "Well, consider yourself lucky because I'm open to job offers," he said with a wink that brought Eddie back into his teenage fantasies. "You need someone like me, and I assume you pay better than pizza delivery. Do you?"

Turns out, their producer was willing to get one more person on board, especially when they finished processing the leftover footage from the Creel house.

Steve was an amazing addition. He was snarky, self-confident, easy to look at and most of all, he was fun and compassionate. Watching him communicate with ghosts of kids and help them move on made Eddie's icy heart melt.

But one day they were on a site of an unfortunate teenage death, Steve was chatting with the ghost of a 17 year old girl like they'd known each other for ages, he was laughing, cracking jokes, and then:

"No, he hasn't kissed me yet."

Eddie turned around on his heel and stared at Steve, snickering to himself and talking to a misty figure next to him. And worst of all, they were both staring right at Eddie.

"Hasn't even asked me out, no. You'd think he'd be interested, but I guess I'm doing something wrong."

And Eddie's head short-circuited, and all the repressed fantasies from nights next to Steve in their trailer came back with vengeance. He howled and threw himself at Steve, kissing him right on that bitchy mouth. "Doing something wrong?! Steven Harrington, those shorts of yours are doing everything right, but how about you say something, huh?!"

Steve returned the kiss to the cheering of the CC guys, Chrissy's clapping and Fred's disgusted noise, and shrugged when they broke apart. "I knew you'd get it, eventually. Oh, and Heather?" he turned to the ghost. "You're the best wingwoman ever, in this life and after."

Four good things came from this ghostly encounter:

After the kiss, Gareth finally gathered enough courage to ask Chrissy out. She said yes.

The episode with Heather became the most watched episode of the CC's show.

Steve and Eddie remained in an equally blissful and teasing relationship for the rest of their lives.

And finally...

The TV station decided to design official merch for the CC's show: incredibly short shorts that said on the backside: "DOING EVERYTHING RIGHT".

[thinkingotherwise]

Bofurin my new beloved.

Ways of loving

- five ways to show love, between you and the Wind Breaker characters.

First are the more notable first years (Sakura, Nirei, Suou, Sugishita, Kiryu, Tsugeura) and our dear Kotoha.

Second and Third years

1. Words of Affirmation

Haruka Sakura - admitting love through phone when classmates can hear

You and Haruka were talking on the phone, you just had to talk with him about the depressing mood you found yourself in following the awful morning, knowing well enough that he could motivate you and make you feel much better. After talking almost the whole break your mood got a lot better and knowing that you would meet with him later on seemed to pick you up on its own.

Sakura didn’t mind you calling him and talking about your or his problems but there was always a moment he dreaded the most. No matter how many times you were talking on the phone he tried to go as far away from his classmates as he could. He loved you, he really did and wanted to tell you that even though it took so much confidence from him, but saying so in front of others was on a whole new level, which he wasn’t yet ready for. And so the whole time you guys were talking he was crouching behind one of the buildings to keep as much privacy as he could.

“Okay then, I’ll see you after school. Love you Haru.” You said sweetly and his ears coloured pink at the nickname you always called him.

“Love you more (N/n).” He replied trying to be suave with his wavering voice but then he heard the laughing and it wasn’t coming from his phone.

Sakura quickly stood up and looked back to be face to face with his whole classroom in the windows listening in on his conversation with you.

“Oh, I love you.” Kiryu started drawing out the words in a joking matter.

“Don’t worry (N/n), we will cuddle later on.” Takanashi said and started cuddling Kakiuchi who in return patted his head.

“No, love you more.” Suou joined in and later on a few more guys jokingly mocked the conversation they heard their class captain having.

Sakura felt himself boiling up, his face got all red and he wasn’t sure if it was because he was nervous and embarrassed or because he wanted to beat the hell out of the guys.

“Is everything alright, Haruka?” You questioned worriedly hearing a lot of voices from Sakura’s side.

“I-it’s fine, the idiots from my class were just listening in, clearly they want a beating.” He said firstly nervous but then his eyes darkened at the classmates.

“We will talk later, love you bye.” Sakura added and quickly hung up placing his phone back in the pocket.

He then turned fully to the guys.

“You better run.” He run up the wall and started climbing through the window to get to them as they started running away while screaming and yelling.

2. Acts of Service

Kyotaro Sugishita - doting on you during everyday activities

Filling the documents for your school club took so much of your attention that you didn't hear the people around you gasp and murmur about the moody boy standing in front of the clubroom. Only when one of your friends nudged you with their elbow did you look up and notice that everyone stared at the long-haired boy speaking to your club president.

You smirked at how uncomfortable Kyotaro looked and started packing your things. It was endearing that even though you told him he could wait outside, knowing that he didn't like socializing, he still came inside your school and even to your clubroom just to get you and walk you home.

"Can you just tell me why you are here?" Your president asked interrogating Kyotaro and you stepped beside them first turning towards you boyfriend in acknowledgment.

"Hi there Kyotaro." Then you turned towards your president. "I'll be leaving now, I'll fill the documents home and bring it to you tomorrow." You informed before grabbing Kyotaro's hand and pulling him through the halls and to your locker.

Changing your shoes Kyotaro held out his hands towards you to make it easier for you and you gladly took it. Leaving some books behind you closed the locker and followed after your boyfriend, outside the school and on the way to your home.

While walking home you got thirsty and when you reached for the juice you had in your bag you were saddened as you saw it was empty.

"Oh, it's empty." You looked inside the bottle looking at it as if it would make it full again.

A few seconds later a freshly opened bottle of tea appeared in front of you.

"Here." Your boyfriend held it in your sight.

"Huh?" You were slightly confused but when he took the empty bottle from your hands and replaced it with the new one you smiled at him.

He put the empty bottle inside his bag while you took a few sips of the tea.

"Thanks Kyotaro." You said and kissed the underside of his jaw.

Kyotaro's breath hitched at the action you just pulled. He grabbed your bag and went a few steps in front of you so that you wouldn't notice the blush on his cheeks. Your smile grew and you ran up to him to walk beside him towards your home.

Taiga Tsugeura - piggyback rides when you're tired

You were used to spending your evening with Taiga in the Muscle Power Establishment. You frequently went out with your boyfriend and most of the time it was to go to his favourite restaurant. You usually picked up one of their drinks trying to test each flavour, while Taiga was eating some high-protein meals after his training.

This evening, you had some blackberry protein shake and you sipped it through the straw. Your boyfriend sat in front of you finishing his banana pound cake as you listened to him telling the stories of recent events happening around the town.

You had your chin propped on your hand observing your enthusiastic partner. But even though his voice was always so energetic you found yourself slowly blinking more and more often with time passing.

As you started yawning, Taiga noticed your tired expression and sleepy gaze. He finished his food and started gathering his things.

“Come on, (Y/n), let’s go home.” His voice was softer when he stood beside you and you turned to him not even noticing when he came to your side of the table.

“Hmm.. oh okay then.”

The two of you said bye to the owner of the small restaurant and started your way home. Moving slowly you bumped into Taiga's side with every other step and he eyed you worriedly hoping you wouldn't hurt yourself. It wasn't common for you to be so tired after a long day and he was concerned if you would make it home.

As another yawn left your mouth you felt Taiga grabbing your hand and stopping before you. He smiled at you before squatting down.

“Go on, I’ll take you home.”

“You sure?” You asked looking at him and he sent another smile your way from behind his shoulder.

“Don’t worry, I can see you're tired. Besides, it’s like additional training for me.” He said trying to comfort you that he'd be alright.

You nodded and moved to his back. As you tried to position yourself more comfortably for him he stood up and bounced you on his back keeping a firm grip on your legs. Your hands immediately moved around his neck and your head fell on his shoulder.

"Taiga careful." You said near his ear and he laughed at your words.

"Sorry, sorry, are you comfortable now?"

"Yes, please tell me when you get tired, okay?" You asked but you knew he wouldn't tell you, still he confirmed with a nod and started walking in the direction of your home.

You felt so comfortable and warm leaning against his back that you soon closed your eyes. Taiga only noticed you fell asleep when he felt your head weighing on his shoulder. He squeezed your legs and continued towards your house with a smile, happy that he could help you when you were so exhausted.

3. Gift-Giving

Mitsuki Kiryu - giving him hair accessories and styling each others' hair

The fact that Mitsuki easily lost his pins was obvious to you and you were always carrying some spare ones in your pockets. In addition, whenever you were shopping and caught eye of some pretty hair accessories, that would suit him, you immediately bought them. With how many times that already happened, Mitsuki was used to receiving small gifts from you.

"Oh! These hairpins would match with the new cardigan Mitsu has." You muttered to yourself as you noticed the display in the shop you passed by.

Immediately you went in and looked through their accessories picking a few that you knew your boyfriend would like. With your hands full you went to the checkout and paid for everything, getting a small gift bag and placing everything inside.

You made your way towards your boyfriend's home with the package tightly held in your hand. As soon as you were close you sent him a message and when you rung the doorbell, the doors opened to Mitsuki who sleepily welcomed you and kissed your cheek.

Your smile grew and a small laugh left your lips as your eyes met his bedhair.

"Did I wake you up?" You asked as you sat down on the couch next to him.

His head fell on your shoulder and he shook his head.

"Not really, it was time to wake up anyway." Then his eyes followed to your hand and the small package.

"What's that? Did you find some new hairpins?"

"Yes." Your voiced echoed happily and he straighten up.

He took the gift you gave him and opened it checking the contents, he took everything out and laid it on the couch between you two. His fingers followed and touched each hairpin as he hummed to himself appraising them.

"Thanks, (y/n)." His lips met yours for a quick peck and you smiled in return.

"Would you like me to do your hair? We can use the new hairpins."

"Sure, babe. I'll go get the hairbrush." He said and quickly went to his room to collect the brush and comb.

When he came back he sat between your legs on the carpet. You then grabbed the brush from his hands and started running your fingers between his tresses as the hairbrush followed after. His hair was so soft and nice to touch you loved doing his hairstyles, especially after he confirmed that it felt really nice to have you play with his hair.

You spent the next couple of minutes pampering him and running your fingers through his hair styling it the way he usually wore it and putting a little too many hairpins in wanting to use as much of the ones you bought as you could.

4. Quality Time

Akihiko Nirei - thrift shopping together

You were searching through the aisles in the thrift shop looking for something that you or your boyfriend would like. It was like a habit of yours by now, every other week you'd visit some second-hand shop trying on different things and spending time together.

Moving to the next clothes hanger you noticed two colourful shirts, similar in style and kind of toned down on the patterns.

"They are perfect." You muttered to yourself and took them not even checking the size.

You then marched towards the changing rooms and knocked on one of the doors.

"Yes?" A familiar voice replied and you slowly opened the doors.

"I found the best thing ever, Aki look." Your voice echoed in the small fitting room and you shoved the two shirts in front of you.

Nirei straightened up after rolling up his pants he already noticed the shirts in the mirror but he still turned around and took one of the shirts, which was closer to his size, in his hands.

"It has nice colours, but why two?"

Your smile grew on your face as if waiting for that question. You bounced once on your feet as Akihiko took off his button-down to try on the one you brought.

"Well, it's pretty obvious. One is for you and the other one is for me." You said and he stopped when he put his hand inside the sleeve and your eyes connected in the mirror.

You observed his frozen posture and giggled as he stood in his T-shirt and half-dressed shirt. Hearing your words and giggles his face flushed red.

"Matching outfits." He softly whispered and you heard him only because of the close proximity to him.

"Yes, wouldn't it be cool?" You said as he slowly continued trying on the cloth.

"If you don't want to it's fine." You added and moved towards him to straighten the collar of the shirt and he watched your hands move.

"You look really good in this shirt, Aki."

He smiled at your compliment and muttered a small "Thanks."

"And I wouldn't mind if you were matching clothes with me." He added turning his head away from you trying to hide the red on his face but you could see it in the mirror making your smile grow fondly.

"Here, put on your jacket as well." You add taking the jacket he came in and he quickly put it on.

"Do I look like a bad boy in these clothes?" He questioned shyly looking at the mirror inside the changing room and fidgeting with the shirt.

"My handsome vigilante." Your lips touched his cheek and his eyes never left yours in the mirror while a small smile appeared on his face.

You then quickly put on the other colourful shirt and stood next to him, how lucky that it matched you perfectly. He showed you a double thumbs up meaning he also liked it on you.

"Come on my handsome bad boy, let's go pay for the clothes and go for some melon soda." You mentioned while taking off the shirt and he followed taking the clothes he chose and making your way towards the cashier.

Kotoha Tachibana - gardening together

Knowing how much Kotoha loved plants and you having a little free time decided to start gardening which seemed like a great way to relax and spent more time with her. She taught you a lot of things about the plants, including naming each plant you found cute and wanted to buy.

Every time Kotoha visited you, she knew you'd show off one of the plants you bought with her. But she didn't mind, she found your interest in one of her hobbies as a great and sweet gesture.

"Look at the lemon we bought last week, it already started to grow little lemons, so cute." You said excitedly bringing the big pot from the ground and holding it in front of you so she had a better view and didn't need to bow down.

"It seems like you're taking good care of it." She ran her fingers up some of the leaves and smiled at you.

"Of course, you were the one who taught me that."

You put the lemon down and took her hand walking a little further and onto the balcony.

"But the tomatoes are not doing that good." Your face fell and Kotoha thought she saw the imaginary puppy ears on your head drop down.

She stepped a little closer and crouched beside you examining the seedlings.

"Nah, I think they're good."

"They are nowhere as nice as the ones Umemiya-san has on his rooftop."

"Don't worry, you're doing great. Besides, I like your plants more." Your smile immediately got bigger and your eyes glimmered in happiness.

"Maybe don't mention it to Ume, because he'd be crestfallen." She added shortly after.

"Don't worry, your secret is safe with me." You saluted her jokingly making her chuckle.

After drinking some tea and talking about your days, Kotoha proposed to help you with your Chamaedorea, which needed a bigger pot. The two of you moved towards the balcony where you already had the soil and a bigger pot ready. She crouched beside you and started instructing you on replanting the greenery that was becoming bigger and bigger with each month passing.

"Here." Kotoha took off her glove and swiped the little patch of soil from your cheek as soon as you were finishing the replanting.

"You have a little dirt on your face."

"Thank you." You smiled brightly at her and patted the ground in the pot.

"No problem, cutie." She kissed the tip of your nose and you flushed surprised.

Yes, taking gardening as a hobby was such a good idea.

5. Physical Touch

Hayato Suou - handholding anywhere and everywhere, no matter who sees it

The most surprising thing about Suou after you started dating him was his touchiness. To say that this characteristic of your seemingly stoic and calm boyfriend shocked you is an understatement.

At the beginning of your relationship you were baffled and so so flustered whenever it happened. Of course, you just weren't used to it and as time passed by you became more confident in sharing physical contact with Suou.

You took every chance you got to cuddle with him on the couch, be it studying or drinking some new tea, and you especially loved holding hands with him or just playing with his fingers.

Now, the only thing you were still trying to get used to was PDA. You were still quite hesitant to show off your relationship, especially in front of big crowds but somehow you found yourself marching through the street hand in hand with Suou.

He was talking about this new tea blend that he bought and promised to make it for you as soon as you got back and you smiled at him saying thanks.

Suddenly your talk got cut off by some strangers that came to you.

"Hello, we are doing some street interviews in English and were wondering if you'd like to answer some questions." The girl pointed at the camera as she spoke to you.

Seeing that you instantly tried to let go of Suou hand and hide in embarrassment but he just chuckled at you and tightened the grip on your hand.

"Sure, no problem." He said confidently and you hit his biceps.

"Suou, why?" You whined and he patted your head with his free hand before turning back to the girl.

"So let's start." She switched to English and you tried to hide behind Suou but you only got to partially stand behind his left side while you became flustered at the thought of people on the internet seeing you.

Answering question after question Suou tried to include you too and when you got nervous he would caress your hand with his thumb while holding it tightly.

As soon as you finished and said bye to the two strangers you pulled on his hand and continued towards his home.

"You did really good, darling." He said leaning towards you and placed a quick kiss on your cheek making you shiver at the contact and you quickly hid your smile behind your free hand.

[targaryen-dynasty]

THE GREATEST TEMPTATION.

Modern!Aemond Targaryen x cam girl!Reader

"Keeping your boyfriend waiting for too long is always a dangerous game, and when he finally has enough, he deems it most fitting to give your audience a real show."

WARNINGS: SEXUAL CONTENT-MDNI; p in v, semi public sex?, rough sex, manhandling, size kink, possessive and jealous Aemond, kinda submissive reader

WORDS: 2.6 K

NOTES: This is an older story, and although I have edited it, I didn't want to change too much from my older writing. I‘ll now work on new stuff with Maegor, Aegon and Cregan. The movie „cam“ was my inspiration for this!

❗️𝐚𝐝𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

“Come on, guys, stop it,” you say, your hands running over the curve of your hips. A short riding crop is clasped between the fingers of your right hand while the ones of your left hand pull the thin strap of your lace thong to let it snap back against your flesh, making a show for the audience as you squirm at the impact. “You know, if you don’t get to the cum show, I’m going to have to go off cam to do it without you, so…" 

You kneel on your bed, sitting on your haunches with the ring light and camera positioned so only the parts from your neck down are visible for your viewers. 

“And nobody wants that, right?” your words are accompanied by a feigned pout as you drag the tip of the riding crop from the valley between your breasts down to your navel, dragging it around it slowly. “But seriously, guys, I need it, so hurry up.”

It’s a ping! that alerts you of a received donation, and you clap your hands in excitement upon seeing the bright red $450 popping up on the screen. 

“Ah, RoguePrince81, thank you so, so much,” you hum with a smile. “Alright, ten spanks for you.”

You turn around and position yourself closer to the camera to give them the perfect view of your ass, but before you’re able to start to deliver ten spanks to it, your boyfriend barges into the room. 

Learning from past mistakes, the camera isn’t recording more than your bed, Aemond’s presence remaining unknown to the viewers. With your microphone not muted, you can’t do more than mouth a ‘five minutes’ to him still standing in the doorframe. 

The pout on his lips is barely there, already gotten used to the way his girlfriend earns her money, though he doesn’t necessarily approve of it. Sighing quietly, he closes the door behind him and sits down in the chair at your desk across from the bed. 

You barely watch him, focusing back on the audience. One slap after another is served to your ass, and you yet again make a show out of it by moaning, squirming and wiggling your ass. 

“My butt’s gonna hurt tomorrow,” you whine. After the tenth slap, you rub your asscheeks, sighing an ‘and one for good luck.’ With the eleventh slap, you throw the crop aside.

Five minutes turn into fifteen, and with all your attention on the audience, you don't notice the set jaw and furious gaze of your boyfriend, a blaze of jealousy flickering in his eye. At least not until he stands up to approach you. 

Being quick to mute the chat, you turn towards him, sitting on your haunches and looking up at him. A crease has formed between your brows, knowing that you have kept him waiting for too long. 

It’s a fruitless attempt to calm him as you rub the palms of your hands over his thighs, squeezing them just slightly in the way you know he enjoys. 

“I’m not here to waste my time watching you fuck around with other guys,” he remarks coldly. 

The coldness of his voice makes a shiver run down your spine, a contrast to the heat growing between your legs. As your eyes meet his ice-like gaze, you swallow hard. “I know,” you reply, continuing to brush your hands up and down his thighs. “But you know I need to make money, Aem.”

He scoffs at your response. “You can make money in other ways,” he replies, his hands capturing your wrists tight enough to indicate his disapproval. “You don’t need to show off your body for strangers.”

Your heart is racing now, and you feel a flutter in your chest at his words. But you can’t deny that his possessive side only makes you want him more. “But this way is easy,” you shrug, trying to keep your tone light. “It’s quick and pays well… plus, I enjoy it, you know that.”

Aemond’s nostrils flare ever so slightly at your words, his jaw setting firmly. In one fluid motion, he pulls you up on your feet. He’s tall and strong, and his presence looms over yours. “I do,” he says. “But you’re mine, and I don’t share.”

Running your hands over his chest, you take a step closer and press yourself against him, and he uses the proximity to rest a hand at the back of your neck. “And I’ll only ever be yours.” You start to play with the buttons of his shirt. “But this is just a job, Aem. It doesn’t mean anything.”

His expression betrays no emotion as he regards you, but his grip on your neck tightens. “If this doesn’t mean anything, then this won’t bother you at all,” he states, using his grip to force you towards your desk. He pushes you over it, and with you having relocated all your stuff to film the bed, there’s not much left on it that topples onto the ground. 

Your hands fly to the desk to steady yourself upon impact, a gasp leaving your lips. Your heart rate picks up, your blood thrumming with a mixture of arousal and a hint of fear. The sudden manhandling sends a thrill down your spine. “Aemond,” you breathe, your voice trembling slightly. 

His breath is hot against your ear as he leans down, chest pressing against your back while his arms cage you in. It’s clear he’s the power right now, and it’s making you feel all the more vulnerable under his control. “What?” he asks, his voice soft yet commanding. “Do you want me to stop?”

With your body reacting to his husky voice, your hips press back against his. “No,” you answer softly, looking over your shoulder at him with wide eyes. 

His lips curve into a smug smile. “Good, because I had no intentions of stopping anytime soon,” he replies. Prowling toward the dresser, he grabs the laptop. “This will be the best show they’ve ever seen.”

Several pings! echo off the device, the viewer’s comments filling the chat box with messages you’d die to read right now. Aemond has seen you set everything up plenty of times before, and he knows all too well where to put the laptop so that it doesn’t show anything else than the parts below your faces, and quickly unmutes the chat. 

His outburst is nothing new, he’s confessed his jealousy often enough, but it’s the first time he willingly participates in one of your streams. It’s clear it’s his way to mark his territory, to claim you in front of everyone to show who you belong to, and his possessiveness does little to diminish the fire in your body, the ache between your legs only becoming more prominent. 

His hard bulge presses against your ass as he approaches you again, shoving you against the sturdy desk with his hands gripping your hips. It catches you by surprise and you release a choked moan at it. 

Nimble fingers hook under the thin straps of your thong, pulling it back enough the snaps against your skin have you wincing for real. “You’re even wearing my favorite lingerie, hm?” he taunts, large hands roaming over your asscheeks. “All this for some horny bastards and their dirty money?”

You shiver at his touch and the dominance in his deep voice, too zoned out to give him an answer. His impatience runs thin with how quickly he serves a slap to your ass, palm landing exactly where you have hit yourself before. The pain is sharper, stinging, and causing tears to brim in your eyes. “Don’t make me repeat myself.”

“Gods, well…” you whimper. “I… I have to make my viewers happy.”

“Is that the only thing you care about?” he challenges. “Making them happy? What about making your boyfriend happy, mh?”

Licking your lips, you look at him from over your shoulder again. “You know you’re the only one I care about,” you breathe out. “Only you.”

Aemond’s hand smooths down your back, his touch gentle but firm. “Do they know you belong to me?” he asks, a hint of possessiveness in his tone. “Nah, fuck this, go on and tell them now.”

“They… they know I have a boyfriend,” you admit. 

But it’s a sharp slap served to your ass that makes your head snap towards the laptop quickly, taking in a shaky breath before you address whoever’s behind the screen. You merely know them by their usernames, RoguePrince81, MrSunfyre, thereal_heir and so on. “I… I belong to my boyfriend,” you say, your voice clear yet laced with a tremble that betrays your submission to him. “And only him.”

Aemond’s hand runs over your asscheek in response, soothing the stinging pain. “That’s right,” he purrs, the possessive tone evident in his voice. “You’re mine, and I don’t like sharing.”

“All yours,” you whisper, though there doesn’t come a reply from him. You merely hear shuffling coming from behind you, and judging by the haste of the sounds, it’s clear he’s desperate and impatient. Aemond enjoys teasing, and maybe even punishing you, but there always comes the point where he can’t take it anymore himself. 

It’s the elongated groan of him that has you pushing your hips back, growing just as impatient and desperate, and it’s the cue for him to tug the lace of your thong aside, easing two of his fingers inside of you. You moan wantonly at that, yet the stimulation doesn’t last long enough for you to truly enjoy it, fingers withdrawing almost immediately after the intrusion. 

With his fingers coated in your arousal, he smears it over the tip of his cock and therefore mixes it with the few beads of precum. His hand glides up and down his cock with ease, before he eventually aligns the tip with your entrance. Sheathing himself inside of you slowly, allowing you to feel every ridge and vein of him, you quickly rise on your tiptoes to adapt to his height and make accommodating his size easier, although you’re all but used to it by now. 

A renewed wave of your arousal drips down your thighs at his intrusion, allowing him to slide into you with little to no resistance. As you both moan in unison, yours is slightly muffled by your teeth sinking into your bottom lip, reveling in the slight burn that accompanies the pleasure. 

Aemond seizes a fistful of your hair, pulling you back as his hips thrust into you harshly once as a clear warning. Brushing your sweet spot so expertly, you arch your back like a cat, pushing back against him with another muffled moan making its way past your lips.

“Oh, don’t act all shy now,” he coos, his other hand finding its way to the back of your neck. “Let them know how good I’m making you feel.”

His words make you nod meekly, and he takes it as a silent invitation to move, the pace starting slow but becoming much more intense in a matter of seconds until he’s recklessly driving his hips into yours. Aemond is always fairly rough with you, but the jealousy and possessiveness do make it even better. 

A breathless gasp falls from your lips in an attempt to catch your breath through his ruthless pounding, and your fists clench around the edge of the desk again, bracing yourself for the way his cock bullies your sweet spot and drives your whole body back and forth.

“Gods, please… use me,” you whine, eyes squeezing shut as you are overwhelmed by the different sensations overcoming your body.  

“Fuck,” he groans. “You like that? You like being used by me while those miserable bastards watch you getting split open by my cock, hm?” His words are punctuated by several harsh thrusts, knocking the air out of your lungs and causing his balls to slap against your sensitive clit, sending shivers down your legs. 

His thighs are heavy as they press into your frame, applying pressure to where your hips meet the edge of the desk. While it hurts, you barely have time to focus on the pain, overwhelmed by the soaring pleasure inside of you. The building tension inside of you spreads through your core, your walls fluttering as furiously as Aemond’s relentless onslaught on your cunt. 

“Don’t stop,” you whimper. 

“Or what?” he taunts. “You’re gonna come for me already?”

Despite him mocking your despair, he pulls your hips back a little and brings his hand down between your legs, dragging his nimble fingers over your clit to give you the last blow that’s meant to push you over the precipice. Every attempt to give him an answer dies in your throat at the sudden burst of pleasure, your mind hazy and your eyes glossy. 

Parting his legs and slightly bending them at the knees, he curls his hips in a manner that all but forces his cock into you at an angle that has stars dancing across your vision, prolonging the intense orgasm that ripples through your core. The tension you hold in your legs from the position causes them to shake uncontrollably, making your body rely on the firm grip of his hand now resting at your hip.  

His own orgasm nears with how forcefully you clench around and convulse all over him, his pace more erratic as he leans down to press his chest flush against your back, pinning you to the desk and planting a searing kiss to the crook of your neck. His thrusts grow sloppier thanks to the position, but that doesn’t mean they don’t fill you deeply enough anymore. 

Bringing his hand from your hair to the wall in front of the desk, the veins in his hand and arms bulge from the exertion. “That’s it,” he rasps into the crook of your neck. “Be a good girl for me and take everything I give you.” 

“Hm-Hm… yes,” you whimper, pushing back against him. Your body is pressed flatly against the wooden surface of the desk, his weight on top of you not allowing you to take any deep breath – yet the throbbing of his cock inside of you definitely makes up for it. 

A strained groan announces his orgasm, muffled by his lips pressed against your skin. A relieved moan leaves your lips as soon as his twitching cock spends itself inside of your still spasming walls. He keeps thrusting into you, though his thrusts become gentler and even slower than before due to his stamina decreasing, eventually stopping.

It’s unlike Aemond to pull out of you so shortly after, and you wince at the sudden loss, your assaulted core clenching around nothing to adjust to the emptiness. Turning your head to look at him, sweaty and heated cheek pressed to the cold desk, you can’t hide the blissed out expression that’s written all over your face. Aemond prowls towards the set up, picking up the laptop with the camera filming nothing but his chest, still heaving with ragged breaths.  

“Now, did you like that?” he asks as he walks back to you again, obviously speaking to the part of your audience that stayed for the show. “Then you’ll definitely love this.” 

Bending forward slightly, he points the camera to your cunt, blessing the viewers with the sight of his seed slowly oozing out of your cunt, running down your folds and quivering thighs. You stay still, too focused on the multiple pings! that bounce off the device, indicating that your little show has earned you a big deal of money.

“Is this the kind of cum show you expected, hm? I bet the fuck not.”

He then abruptly shuts the laptop with a thud, carelessly throwing it onto your bed. 

You push yourself back, standing on wobbly feet as you adjust your thong, holding onto the desk. You turn your head to look at him, the smirk on your lips matching the wicked one on his. “You know you’re gonna be a regular now,” you tease. 

“And I thought you’d never ask.”

[star-sim]

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

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

Jake Sim was many things.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

However, there was always one exception.

You.

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

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

me: yeah i can do it rn if you want

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

pretty girl: oh

pretty girl: are you sure?

Of course he was.

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

me: yeah i'll come over right now

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

Not that either of you minded.

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

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

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

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

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

Not a problem!

Because you had your boyfriend, Jake!

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

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

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

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

There it was, his favorite thing about you.

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

Okay, that sounded weird.

But it was the truth.

Your relationship could be summed up in a few words—

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

How could he not resist teasing you?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"How do I look?" you asked. 

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

"Beautiful." 

As always.

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

Except that got delayed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The corner of his lips begin to lift.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You mumbled a small, "Hi."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Ugh, Jaaaaakee!"

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

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

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

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

"No."

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

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

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

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

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

"You're just too addicting."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Except, one comment caught his eye.

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

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

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

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

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

So that maybe someone would see it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"She's like an actual Disney Princess."

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

You were excited to see how Vidcon would treat you.

Jake was fighting.

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

Did you have to look so pretty today?

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

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

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

Jake immediately wiped his expression clean. "Nothing."

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

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

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

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

"I literally smiled earlier!"

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

"Shut up!"

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

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

But Jake missed you right now.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jake almost snapped his phone in half.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Absolutely.

"I love her so much," another read.

Me too, Jake thought.

"I want her so bad."

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

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

And his wish came true a few hours later.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Hey, baby," he grinned. 

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

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

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

Vidcon Day 1: Over.

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

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

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

#HelloKittyMeetsBatman.

Interesting name, he thought as he clicked on it.

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

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

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

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

"Craziest crossover of 2024."

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

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

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

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

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

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

Family.

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

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

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

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

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

His chest was already throbbing but Jake played it cool.

He chuckled. "What for?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You were going to be the death of him.

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

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

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

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

As you did, you eyed him up and down.

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

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

"Ay, are you checkin' me out?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Shit, [Name], wait a sec—"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Was this how you felt when he teased you?

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

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

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

You little tease.

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

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

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

That should be him!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh.

Shit.

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

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

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

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

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

"Sh-Shut up, Jay!"

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

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

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

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

No one questioned him further. Probably out of fear.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jake slinked toward you, taking his own shirt off. 

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

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

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

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

"Jaaakee," you whined, squeezing his hands.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Nothing," you said simply.

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

"H-Hey—!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You're so cute, baby."

"I know."

"What's with you getting so bold?"

"You're annoying me."

"Awww, you love me so—"

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

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

"It's so pretty," you murmur.

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

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

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

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

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

"B-Baby, wait—"

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

"Just kiss me," you breathed.

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

Something in his eyes had changed.

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

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

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

"W-Where are we goin—?!"

"Back to my room."

You were in for a night.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Its headline?

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

The worst part was the cover page.

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

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

Objectively, this was bound to happen.

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

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

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

Had he always been like this?

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

Why did he throw it all away? 

He agreed to keep things private. 

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

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

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

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

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

And they were surprisingly... supportive?

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

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

"I'm very pleasantly surprised."

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

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

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

"He doesn't deserve her."

And the nail in the coffin:

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

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

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

Were you ashamed of him? 

Of course you would be.

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

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

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

No, no, no!

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

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

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

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

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

Why did you keep your relationship with Jake secret? 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You had a few choices.

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

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

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

But you wanted to get out of there.

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

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

You were getting irritated.

You stopped in your tracks, turning over your shoulder.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That made his mind wander.

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

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

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

"What for?"

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

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

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

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

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

Jake stared at you.

Jakey.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Now, onto the video!”

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

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

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

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

The two of you shared a grin.

“Of course, girlfriend.”

[nerdy-novelist017]

Denim (Benny Cross x Shy!Reader Smut)

Heyyyy, remember when i did that little poll forever ago and the majority of you guys wanted me to turn the ending into smut? Well, here it is 🤗 I just pray nobody who knows me IRL will read this, but i hope all of YOU guys enjoy this! 🫶

Benny x Bunny Masterlist

Word Count- 2.1k+

Summary- He nearly groaned at the sight of you, all sweet in your soft satin slip with his rough denim jacket dwarfing your small figure.

18+ Minors please do not interact!

******

Benny took a long, slow drag of his cigarette as he watched you from his place on the bed bend over to grab your slip dress from the floor. The trail of clothes leading into his bedroom were the result of his desires and fervor manifested by returning home to your sweet smile. After a particularly rough day with some new members joining the Vandals, his frustrations built and threatened to crack his carefully crafted persona of calm, his entire ride back home was filled with nothing but the dirty thoughts he had of bending you over the kitchen counter and releasing his anger. But upon entering his house, his senses were overwhelmed by the smell of something sweet baking in the oven. He found you standing at the kitchen island, adorning a flour-covered apron overtop one of your pretty little sundresses. You held a spatula in one hand, stirring it into the bowl of what Benny could only assume was batter, and the other was holding open a cookbook on the countertop, finger lightly tracing the words as you mouthed the instructions softly. 

“Hi, honey!” You greeted him with that smile that just seemed to melt away all his aggressions. “I’m baking a pie for tomorrow. I’ve never tried this recipe so I’m making my failsafe too, just in case.”

You were referring to another Vandals meeting happening tomorrow evening. A sickeningly sweet warmth bloomed in his chest and he knew he couldn’t fuck you there like what he’d planned. No, you were so thoughtful and kind. He wanted to make love to you, to show you that he loved you. That’s what you deserved. 

“God, you’re beautiful," he said as he watched the slip fall over your shoulders, gracefully laying over your body like water running over stones, covering your figure down to your mid thigh. 

He leaned his upper half against the headboard, one arm propped behind his head, the sheets pulled noncommittally over his bare hips. From the bed, he could see the blush tinge your nose and cheeks. He loved that he still had that effect on you, it filled him with a sense of pride that his words (among other things) could still garner a physical reaction from you. 

You grinned at him sheepishly. “That’s what I think about you.”

Benny had never been with a woman that called him beautiful before you. Sure, he’d been complimented many times, but called beautiful? That was something only you have ever told him. You found a lot of things beautiful, constantly pointing out flowers on the side of the highway or sunsets on the horizon. He loved seeing the world through your eyes. Sure, he appreciated the sunsets sometimes or your new dresses, but he only found them beautiful when you were on the back of his bike to enjoy the sunset, only thought the flowers were pretty when you placed them in your hair. Beauty was only a concept when you were involved. 

He watched as you began picking up the rest of your clothes, gathering everything in your arms, but then something caught your eye. Discarding the rest of your clothes on the foot of the bed, you bent, giving Benny a generous view of your chest before retrieving the item that gave you pause. 

He glanced down at it in your hands. His Vandals jacket. He quirked a brow as your gaze fluttered back up to his, a flirtatious glint in your eye. You turn from him and move to stand in front of the mirror above the desk. He watches intently as you slowly spin the jacket and bring it around behind you, sliding each hand through at a time before shrugging it over your shoulder. It was several sizes too big on you. Your fingertips barely grazed the ends of each sleeve and the hem of the denim covered your butt. You swiped at your hair trapped beneath the collar as you studied yourself in the reflection. 

You’re eyes locked with him in the mirror and you smiled. “You reckon I could be a Vandal?”

He nearly groaned at the sight of you, all sweet in your soft satin slip with his rough denim jacket dwarfing your small figure. “Bunny, I reckon you could take over that whole damn club tomorrow if you walked in wearing that.”

Your giggle sent a jolt through his stomach and he felt himself grinning like an idiot as he watched you turn from the mirror and do a spin for him. You were just too damn cute. 

“Now, you’re official,” he teased, blowing out a trail of smoke from between his lips, eyes unable to look away from you as you moved back to the bedside. 

“Not quite.” You fixed him with a mischievous look as you crawled onto the bed slowly, sliding a leg over his hips so that you were straddling his lap. “I still need something to ride.”

He smudged the rest of his cigarette out in the ashtray before his hands found the soft flesh of your bare thighs. You planted your palms over his chest and the sensation burned straight through to his heart. He leaned up to capture your lips. “I think I have something you could take for a spin.” 

He swallowed your moan, hands kneading up to your hips where he helped position you over himself. You had never been the one on top before, and your heart pounded at the intimidating idea. But because Benny always seemed to read your thoughts, he said, “It’s okay, baby. Just go slow.” 

Benny’s hands on thighs tightened, helping to guide himself to your entrance and you released a breathy moan of satisfaction when you felt his cock sink into you. He clenched his jaw tightly when you began to move slowly, hesitantly, his rough fingers tracing your soft skin with an almost reverent touch. “Fuck,” he groaned, his eyes rolling into the back of his head momentarily as you rode him.

Though he wanted to remain locked onto you, his eyes couldn’t help but roam over every curve of your beautiful body, illuminated by the soft glow of the bedside lamp. He marveled at how easily you brought him to his knees, at how you seemed to just control his every thought. When he came home to you standing in the kitchen, so innocent and unassuming, all the day’s frustrations and worries just melted away. You had the power to do that. And now, with you rocking above him, your eyes locked onto his, he felt that very same sensation of awe wash over him again. How did he ever get so lucky?

“You feel so good, Bunny,” he moaned as his head fell back against the pillow, his heart pounding in his ears. “Just–just like that.”

He took one of your hands in his, bringing it up to his face and planting kisses to your palm. With every movement you made, his thoughts spiraled further, his mind becoming hazy. Mine, the word echoed in his head as a fierce and possessive need that both terrified and thrilled him. He had never thought he’d want something so badly in his life, never thought he’d care so much. But here you were, in his bed, in his life, and he was utterly lost in you. Every kiss he pressed to your skin, every touch was a promise – a promise to do anything he could to keep you, to make you happy, to be worthy of you. 

At his praise, you felt confidence bubble within you, and you picked up the pace, driven by the need to please him, your hips grinding into his with a friction that sent electricity straight into your core. The sound of your shared breaths, the squeak of the bed springs both filled the room in a sweet symphony that drove you to the very edge. 

Your name slipped from his lips in a broken, needy sound that made your heart skip a beat. You could feel him straining beneath you, his muscles taut with desire. You leaned forward, your hair falling into a curtain around his face as you pressed a kiss to his jaw, watching as his eyes darkened with fervor, his control slipping. 

His hand slid up your back, beneath the Vandals jacket, pulling you closer, his lips finding yours in a searing kiss that made your head spin. He kissed you like he couldn’t get enough of you, like he was starving for you, his tongue sliding against yours with a hunger that sent waves of heat through your entire body. 

And in typical Benny fashion, he couldn’t relinquish control for long. Without breaking the kiss, he rolled you both over, pinning you beneath him, his weight pressing you into the mattress in a way that caused you to squeal lightly. Not of fear, there was never fear with Benny. He broke the kiss, his mouth moving down to your neck as his hand cupped your breast through your thin nightgown.

“You’re mine,” he growled, his voice clouded by a possessive rasp as his hand gripped the bare flesh of your thigh, positioning it higher onto his own hip. You responded instantly, wrapping yourself tighter against him. “Every inch of you.”

 Unable to speak, you nodded, your hands moving up to grip his shoulders as he entered you with deep, powerful thrusts that made you cry out in ecstasy. Benny didn’t hold back – he couldn’t – his movements were rough and demanding as he took you, each plunge sending a shockwave through you, a white blinding sensation behind your eyes. The intensity of it was overwhelming, your senses filled with nothing but him – his touch, his scent, the way he filled you completely. 

“Benny, please,” you whimpered, your words almost incoherent as your pleasure built to a peak. 

He buried his face in the crook of your neck, his breath tickling against your overstimulated flesh as his hand came up to interlock with your own, pinning it beside your head. He groaned, “I’ve got you, Bunny . . . I’ve got you.” 

His words were a promise, and they filled you with a warmth that went beyond physicality. And when the wave finally crashed over you, it was all-consuming, your body tightening against his as a cry escaped your lips. Benny wasn’t far behind you, his own release hitting like a storm, and he groaned against your skin, his body shuddering from the force of it. Your vision blurred with euphoria but you grasped onto the way he said your name so softly. 

Benny lowered onto his elbows, laying his upper body slack against yours as his labored breaths filled your ringing ears, his heart pounding against your own chest. For a few moments, you both lay there, each coming down off your passionate high, his hand still tightly wrapped around your own. He pressed a kiss against your temple as he whispered, “You’re everything to me, Bunny. Everything.”

You smiled as you brought your hands up to run through his hair. Benny rarely ever expressed his love in words. I love you, was not an expression he often used. Instead, he found other ways to emphasize his affections. They never ceased to fill you with a sense of belonging that you’ve never felt before. 

As the heat began to cool between you, he eventually pulled out, leaning up onto his elbows again, to gaze down at you with a lazy smile playing on his face. He brushed a strand of your hair from your face, his thumb grazing your cheek in a gentle caress. “You’ve got no idea what you do to me, Bunny.”

You shot him a teasing grin. “Maybe I have some idea.”

He chuckled, shaking his head before he rolled onto his back beside you, pulling you along with him so that you were draped across his chest. You rested your head there, listening to the rhythm of his heartbeat as your breathing slowed. 

After a few moments, Benny spoke up again, his low voice cutting through the comfortable silence. “How about we make a deal?”

You tilted your head up at him, your curiosity piqued. “What kind of a deal?”

His hand slipped beneath the denim jacket again to trace circles along your back as he mused, “Whenever you’re feelin’ low or like you’re not enough . . . you come to me, and I’ll remind you how wrong you are.”

Your heart squeezed in your chest at his words. He knew you struggled with confidence and to hear him wanting to actively help you in whatever way he could . . . well, it just made you love him all that much more. It was impossible not to fall in love with him every day when he said such things to you, when he made you feel like the most precious thing in his world. “And what about you? What if you need reminding?”

His eyes softened as they fluttered over your features. “Then I’ll come to you. You’re the only one who makes me feel like more than I am.” 

You leaned up, pressing a kiss to his lips, slow and sweet, sealing the promise. “Deal.”

You pulled back, a hint of mischief gleaming in your eyes, and you asked, “Do I have to wear the jacket though?”

He grinned, his arms tightening around you as he pulled you into him even closer. “Definitely.”

-Tag List-

@elizabeth916 @imusicaddict @jaiuneamesolitaiire @dudii4love @ironmooncat @beebeechaos @astrogrande @pearlparty @themorriganisamonster @sillylittlethrowaway @ughdontbeboring @penwieldingdreamer @charmingballoon @eugene-emt-roe @sunnbib @semperamans @groovyangelkisses @killerqueenfan @cynic-spirit @pomtherine @tranquilty @m00npjm @justsomewritingblog @thepassionatereader @rebecca-hvnstn @nethanybear @dreamlandcreations @buckysteveloki-me @simsiddy @zablife @sansaorgana @autumnleaves1991-blog @butler-trouble @lindszeppelin @wavyjassy @real-lana-del-rey @xcallmetaniax @lovenewfandoms @youngestxhearts @abaker74 @ateliefloresdaprimavera @thefallofthedamned @hottpinkpenguinreads @nctma15 @vendylewin @capswife @alexa4040 @pearlstiare @sweetestrose569 @18lkpeters @mrsalwayswrite

[sturn-saturn]

hey baby girl

pairing: fem!pregnant!reader x husband!chris

warnings: just cutesy stuff <3

a/n: i thought of doing this while watching shameless 😁

week 20: "hey, baby girl!" chris says as he holds up a camcorder. "so today, mama and i went to the baby doctor and we found out you're a girl!" your husband turns the camera to you and your hand is placed on your baby bump rubbing it up and down while the other is holding up your ultrasound pictures.

"we're so excited to meet you baby girl!" you smile kissing the camera goodbye.

week 21: "hey, baby girl!" you say holding the camera. chris is upstairs in your shared bedroom still sleeping. "as you can see, mama just woke up, i'm very tired but dad i have some errands to run so we can prepare for you to join us in 19 weeks. so the plan for today is to visit your grandparents, dads parents, then we're going out to target to look at some onesies for you and little socks to keep your tiny toes warm, after is the grocery store. i'll be sure to get some yummy stuff so i can keep you and i fed! alright baby girl, catch you later!" you say kissing the camera once again.

week 22: you and chris were on the couch watching coraline since it was your favorite comfort movie.

"hey baby girl!" chris says holding the camera up to face you both has his other hand is rubbing your belly gently.

"so right now dad and i are watching my favorite comfort movie because i wasn't feeling well today."

"her tummy was cramping but don't worry, it wasn't your fault. you're our baby girl, you could do no wrong." your husband says with a big grin.

"i'm hoping when you're older you enjoy this movie as much as i do. your dad and i actually watched this on our 5th date i believe." you smile.

"alright sweetheart, mamas gotta get her rest, see you tomorrow!" your husband says kissing the camera.

week 23: "hey baby girl! alright so we are in the car right now and todays plan is going to the doctor to make sure you're healthy and see how much you've grown. after that we need to find a bassinet for you to get a good nights sleep!" chris smiles at how cute he finds you.

"there are so any people who can't wait to meet you sweetheart. 4 grandparents, a bunch of aunts and uncles, our friends too!" he adds.

"you're so loved already, honey. okay we're here! time to go!" you kiss the camera.

week 24: "hey baby girl so today, uncle nick and uncle matt dropped by and got you some presents. they got you the cutest onesies, some baby bottles, and toys! we know you wont be able to play with toys until you grow a bit and get used to the new world but you are going to love them! also dad has something to say." you hand the camera to chris and get up to get a snack.

you over hear your husband talking to the camera and your eyes soften looking over at him.

"mama and i are gonna do everything we can to protect you. we will support you in anything you want to do. the only things we want from you is to be a good person and spread love. also you have to play lacrosse or hockey like me and your uncles did!" he laughs.

"chris what if she doesn't wanna play either of those?" you ask.

"well what every she decides to play she's gonna be amazing. she's half of you anyway. bye darling!" he yells kissing the camera.

week 25: "hey baby girl! we're currently at grandma and grandpas house for a little cook out with the family." you say showing everyone around.

"are you guys making a little vlog for the baby?" jimmy asks.

"we are!"

"mind if i say a few words?"

"not at all!" you hand the camera to jimmy and you use this time to rest your arms a bit.

"alright sweetheart. as you know, i'm your grandfather, your dads dad. i just wanted to let you know that i can't wait to meet you. you're my first grandkid! as much as i love my boys, i've always wanted a girl in the family and you're finally making that dream happen. i will definitely be taking you on fishing trips so get ready!"

jimmy hands you the camera with a big smile on his face. "you're gonna be a great mother, honey."

tears start to well in your eyes from the love you've received from your husbands family throughout the years. you thank jimmy and you kiss the camera goodbye.

week 40: "hey baby girl!" chris whispers. "today is a big day. mama felt some extra kicks last night and it turns out you're coming today! she's currently resting right now so she can use all her energy and strength to bring you here. keep this between us, but your moms a superhero." he smiles.

"chris?" you mumble. "come here."

chris comes over with the camcorder in his hand with a look of concern on his face. "what's up mama?"

you reach your hand for the camera and he hands it to you.

"hey sweet girl. i'm sure dads told you we're at the hospital right now waiting for you to come. it's currently 10pm and we're all super tired but this is all worth it if it means we get to finally meet you." you smile lazily.

4 hours later...

the doctors all finally left the room. they said that was the easiest delivery they've had to work through. chris is currently standing with your baby girl in his arms facing the window to see the city lights.

"hey clara." chris whispers rocking his daughter back and forth gently. "mamas resting again. the doctors told her she did a great job! i told you your mom was a superhero. in just 3 days you'll get to come home with us. how exciting is that!? grandma and grandpa are coming tomorrow to see you as well as your uncles. i love you baby girl. goodnight." chris kisses his daughters head before setting her back in her bassinet.

he relishes in the feeling of being a new dad before he drifts off into a good nights sleep.

taglist:

@sturniolos4life16 @hoeforchrizz @luckyscharms @emely9274 @chrispotatos @weirdratperson @simpson12 @ilovemenwithlonghairr @angeldvstee @pussypie456 @valentinasturniolo @chrissturnioloenthusiastforlife @cravingchrissturniolo @wonnieeluvvr @flouvela

[puck-luck]

code-breaker | jack hughes

warnings: pining!, unprotected p in v, lots of miscommunication but it is resolved duh, lmao uhhhhh jack fucking his best friend's sister maybe? kind of a big plot point fasho, a lame excuse for a squirt, cum on da body (chest), eating come, lots of banter, tiny TINY bit of angst and insecurity on fem!reader's part pairing: jack hughes x zegras!reader request: cappy's "sister of the best friend, lake house, etc. sister makes the first move and the guy tries to turn her down out of loyalty to the other boy and she gets a little hurt and insecure thinking he's rejecting her and she's like "am i really that bad?" with her voice craking and he's like fuck then... smut!" wc: 4327

Jack is here. 

Jack, who you’ve been in love with since your twin brother started hanging out with him when they were in NTDP together. Jack, the New Jersey Devils’ prized star, the number one pick. Jack, the most annoying and most attractive brother of the esteemed Hughes family from Michigan. Yes, that Jack is here– ‘here’ being your apartment that you share with your brother in Anaheim now that Jamie has moved out and away.

Jack is here. You are here. Trevor is not.

“I didn’t know you were coming,” you tell him awkwardly, still holding the door open and blocking the doorway. You’re all too aware of your lazy, solo-movie-night outfit as you stand in front of him. You’re clad only in a big shirt, one that normally reaches the middle of your thighs but has ridden up since your hands are raised and resting against the doorframe, and your favorite pair of panties. You did laundry earlier and showered, your big exciting thing of the day being that you could but on your favorite underwear and be lazy as soon as you finished the chore of folding your clothes. “Trevor’s in New York right now.”

“I know,” Jack says, a hand on his suitcase. The other is clenched by his side. “I have a meeting in LA tomorrow so he said I could stay here while he was gone.”

“Oh,” you reply, feeling silly. It would’ve been nice if your brother had told you that Jack was coming and staying here while he was gone, considering you’d made plans to be alone all night tonight. Trevor always does shit like this– he makes plans and then forgets to tell you until someone shows up or he has to leave to meet them. It’s frustrating. “Come on in, then.”

You move to the side, gesturing for Jack to enter the apartment, and he does. His suitcase rolls in behind him, just a little carry on, and he leaves it beside the door where he kicks off his shoes. 

Your hands make their way to the hem of your t-shirt, tugging at it. “I’ll, uh, go change into something more–”

“No, don’t worry about it,” Jack interrupts, waving you off. He clears his throat. “You don’t have to change on my account. I’m interrupting your night of–” 

He looks to the couch and the coffee table, littered with a bowl of popcorn and a bottle of wine that you had been drinking out of, straight from the spout. Your movie is paused on the screen, a silly Disney Channel movie that had come out when you and Trevor were children and still hadn’t lost its touch yet. You’re hoping that Jack doesn’t recognize the screencap, but Mel’s Lemonade machine fills the screen and if he’s seen Lemonade Mouth at all, he’ll know what movie you’re watching.

“Disney Channel and wine,” Jack finishes, pinching his lips to hide the amusement in his voice.

You frown, even though you want to burst into laughter with him. It is silly, what you’re doing, but you were supposed to be alone and who are you to be ashamed of your guilty pleasures?

“Don’t make fun,” you admonish, crossing your arms with a pout. “I thought I had the apartment to myself.”

“I’m not making fun!” Jack denies, holding his hands up in surrender. “I think it’s nice that you’re having a me-party.”

He’s referencing the other time he’s interrupted when you’re having a movie night on your own, when you watched The Muppets (2011) at the lake house because the boys were out on the boat and you had gotten a nasty sunburn the day before, so you’d stayed in. Jack had come back early because he was hungry, making the boys drop him off at the dock before going back out, and caught you red-handed with his favorite kind of pretzels and a half-full bottle of margarita next to the blender. 

You blush, glaring at him slightly. “Shut up, Jack.”

“No, this is perfect,” Jack continues, glowing a little as his shit-eating smile builds. He walks over to the couch and plops down, grabbing the bottle of wine and taking a swig before wiping his mouth. “I’m already dressed for a lazy night in, I shouldn’t waste it.”

You roll your eyes. “You’re such a dick,” you complain. “You know you don’t want to watch this movie with me.”

“Why not?” He challenges, another tilt of the bottle pouring the fruity liquid down his throat. He spreads his legs when he sits as all the boys do, taking up as much space as he can. 

“Because you won’t like it,” you say. “And because I wasn’t planning on having you here.”

“Were you planning on having someone else here?” Jack teases. “Popcorn, red wine, a movie, no pants… I think I see the writing on the wall.”

“No, God, shut up, Jack!” You repeat with a huff, returning to the couch and curling up against the opposite arm, far away from the boy. “Just be quiet while I watch my movie. If you’re good, I’ll let you have some popcorn.”

Jack wiggles his eyebrows at you, sticking out his tongue. You pull at the bottom of your shirt again, making sure that your panties aren’t visible when he looks over. This is already humiliating enough– you don’t need your long-time crush seeing your underwear, too.

You hit play and turn the volume up loud enough to drown out any comments Jack might make. You’re lucky the movie is short, because he’s an antsy boy who loves to talk, just like your brother, and you can tell that he’s anxious to start another conversation.

As the credits roll, you mute the television and turn to him. “What?” You demand, sitting in criss-cross-applesauce and shoving your hands into your lap to stretch your shirt over the space between your legs. 

“You really didn’t have plans tonight?” Jack asks. “It’s a Saturday night and you live in LA. You’re in your twenties. You didn’t want to have anyone over?”

You flush, but it’s less out of embarrassment and more out of anger. “Judgemental much, Hughes? Not all of us have people throwing themselves at our feet any given day of the week.” You grind your teeth, clenching your jaw and taking a deep breath. You stare at him, refusing to break eye contact. Jack shouldn’t be allowed to form opinions on your life. You know exactly what he’s insinuating– why aren’t you out there getting laid, Y/N? and it’s frustrating because it’s the same question you ask yourself whenever your friends text about their recent hookups or whenever Trevor brings a girl back to the apartment. 

More than anything, you don’t want Jack judging you. You know that your Saturday night plans are lame, but that’s why you wanted to be alone. 

Jack falls quieter, your reaction diluting his crooked, toothy smirk that he reserves for the people he knows well. “I’m surprised you don’t have– people. Throwing themselves at you.”

He’s awkward when he says it, too awkward not to make you suspicious.

He’s avoiding eye contact, picking at his nailbeds. 

“Would you?” You ask, directly to the point. You’re making a point, too– you’ve known Jack for years and he has never, not once, implied that he thinks you’re desirable. 

Jack says nothing, running his fingers through his hair and looking down. 

You nod to yourself and stand from the couch, still tugging at your shirt. You’re pulling it even lower now, the neckline dipping and stretching as you cover your legs up as best you can. “That’s what I thought,” you say quietly, a cold feeling washing through your chest and pressing down on the skin that your heart beats beneath. 

“I would,” Jack calls, just as you walk away. You’re positioned right in front of the door that leads to your bedroom when he says it, head hanging towards the ground so that he doesn’t see the frown on your face. 

His silence was a rejection and his afterthought is even worse. Nonetheless, you turn to face him. This time, it’s your silence that rings throughout the space.

“I would,” Jack repeats. “If, y’know. You weren’t–”

“Trevor’s sister,” You say, filling in the blanks and finishing his sentence. You nod, a tight, close-lipped, and pointed smile on your face. “You don’t have to explain, Jack. I realized a long time ago that my world would always revolve around Trevor.” Your hand is on the doorknob now, twisting it and cracking your door open. Your bed is right there and you can collapse into it in mere seconds, able to let your tears leak into your pillow silently as you remind yourself that you’re not as good as your twin brother once again, just as soon as you get these words out. “I know I can’t do or say the things I want to with the people I want to because they’re always thinking about Trevor.”

You could add, And why would you be any different? You know him best. Of course he’s the one you’re loyal to, but you decide against it. It’s too petty. It’s too mean. It’s too– real. 

You look at him one last time to bid him goodnight, already craving the following day when his meeting is over and he heads back to Michigan, far away from you and your un-desirability. The tight smile returns to your face, trying to smooth out your upset yet resigned features. It’s always the same thing. It’s not Jack’s fault, really, it’s not. You’ve imagined this conversation in your head many times and each time you think rationally, you know that this is how it has to be.

He’s Jack Hughes, for God’s sake. You’re just Trevor Zegras’ less successful, lesser known twin sister.

“Trevor would kill me,” Jack says on a whim. “Really. He would. He would stand me up and punch me, right here.”

You’ve got one foot in your bedroom and one foot out. Despite the ice piercing through your chest, you can’t find it in yourself to be rude and close the door on him. You turn to face Jack again.

He’s sitting forward on the couch, hands clasped in front of him like a prayer. He moves them when he talks, lowering them and spreading them and gesturing with them. He’s always done that, ever since you’ve known him– it’s another way that he calls attention to himself and takes up space. It’s part of the reason why he’s so charming– he knows how to use his hands, how to touch someone to politely get them to move or to pull them closer or to playfully shoo them away. 

“If I had a sister, I’d do the same thing to him,” Jack continues. “It’s just– we can’t go for each others’ family. It’s against the code.”

You nod, slowly, exaggeratedly just to show him how nonsensical that sounds. “You realize it’s not up to Trevor to decide who you go out with,” you say. “That’s kind of your choice, Jack.”

“It’s not that simple.”

You shrug, then look away. Outside the living room window is a dark night, leaves blowing with the wind. 

“It could be,” you say after a moment. You’re not surprised to hear how resigned you sound. You learned to live with this a long time ago, so you know that pointing out how easily things could change is futile. You say it anyway. “If you wanted it to be. But, I get it. I’m your best friend’s sister. Maybe if I wasn’t, you’d consider–”

“I have considered,” Jack interrupts. “I’ve– well, you’ve seen it. All the guys have.”

You’re lost. It’s like he’s speaking in code. “I’ve seen what?” You ask, monotonous and silently yearning for your bed. Your patience is growing thin.

“You can’t be serious,” Jack responds with a laugh. He buries his face in his hands, muffling the noise. “Are you?”

“I’ve seen what,” you repeat, straight-faced and not entertaining this sudden bout of humor from the brunet boy.

“How I look at you when you’re in those tiny little swimsuits on the boat, or how I laugh when you make one of your stupid jokes that aren’t funny to anyone but you and Trevor,” Jack says. “You really never noticed?”

Now he’s just dangling your hopeless crush in front of you. You assumed he had noticed sometime over the years, but this is overkill. He’s never felt the same– that much is clear. It’s cruel that he thinks he can lead you to believe otherwise as a means to further tease you for being alone tonight.

You shake your head. “I never noticed because you never did any of those things, Jack. You’re just saying that to say it.”

He’s up in a flash, coming towards you and placing a hand flat on your bedroom door to prevent you from closing it and ending the conversation. “I can’t believe you don’t believe me,” Jack says.

“I don’t think it’s funny that you’re making fun of the little crush I’ve had on you since we were kids. You don’t feel the same way and I’m not an idiot.” You move to close the door again, but Jack pushes it open again. 

“You– I’m not making fun,” Jack stammers out, looking surprised. He leans forward, narrowing his eyes. “You have a crush on me?”

Your jaw drops and your face flames with humiliation. You thought he knew that you liked him and that he was making fun on purpose– and now you’ve accidentally revealed your massive, well-kept secret to his face. This was never supposed to happen. “You didn’t know?” You hiss, covering the lower half of your face with your hands. 

“You have a crush on me,” Jack repeats, a smile spreading across his face. He steps closer, prompting you to back away.

“No. No,” you moan out, feeling positively ashamed and destroyed. Tonight is not turning out as you hoped it would.

Jack’s still smiling, closing your bedroom door softly behind him as he follows you into your room. 

You knock into the edge of your bed and sit, sinking into the mattress. Your hands are still pressed over your mouth as Jack kneels in front of you, prying your hands away from your face and holding them gently. 

“You have a crush on me,” Jack says for a third time, his voice soft and subtly optimistic. The corner of his mouth curves up into the tiniest of smirks and you swear your face couldn’t get any more red.

All you can give him is a frown and a devastated wobble of your bottom lip. 

“Well, this changes everything,” Jack says, regaining his ability to joke, it seems. His next question is rhetorical and makes you swallow hard. “Who gives a fuck about Trevor when you feel the same way I do?” 

“You’re– you’re serious,” you say, still a thread of disbelief sewn into your words. “You weren’t kidding. You actually– thought about it.”

“Thought about it?” Jack asks. “Fuck, Y/N, I almost told you right before you left last summer, but then you said you were talking to that guy.”

You roll your eyes– that guy had only been in your life for about a month and you had only mentioned him because Jack had mentioned a girl he wanted to see. You tell him such– “I only brought him up because everyone was talking about their romantic interests and who they were interested in, I didn’t want to seem like a loser. You had some girl, too, Jack.”

“Some girl– that was you,” Jack reveals incredulously. “I thought I was being so obvious.”

“You weren’t obvious at all!” You deny, mouth open in a scoff. 

“I thought that you mentioning that guy was your way of letting me down easy!”

“Yes, Jack, because I was going to reveal my feelings for you in a room full of both of our brothers. Good idea. You fucking idiot!”

Jack laughs aloud, throwing his head back. His face scrunches up and he smooths his face with his big palm at the end of his amusement. He fixes you with a look of glee and astonishment– something only hindsight can bring to his expression. “We’re so fucking stupid.”

You shake your head, laughing with him for a moment before he swipes a thumb over your cheek, which stills you. 

“Fuck,” he sighs, smile still gracing his face. “I can’t believe–”

“Me neither,” you say.

“Can I–”

“Absolutely.”

Jack’s rising up, kissing you and laying you back on the bed so that he can completely cover your body with his own. One of his hands cups your cheek, while the other grips your hip, atop your underwear but underneath the big t-shirt that is now riding up your body as you move. Your hand is on his bicep and his chest, clutching his sweatshirt. The strings dangle down into your space, brushing against your clothes and tickling you.

His hands memorize you like a topographic map, clutching at your dips and curves and anything else he can get his hands on. 

“Wanna take this off,” You mumble against Jack’s mouth, tugging at the collar of his sweatshirt.

Jack pulls back immediately, reaching behind his neck to grab the collar of his top and bring it above his head. He balls it up and drops it somewhere on the floor. 

“That, too,” you tell him, about his t-shirt, before he can bend back down and kiss you senseless again.

Jack chuckles and pulls it off, too, leaving him half-naked just like you. His chest is tanned and swollen from his recent workouts in Michigan since his shoulder surgery, something that Trevor had told you about but about which you’d never checked in. You’re gentler on that side of his body, especially as he comes back down into your space and you get to touch him. You run your hands over his muscles. You feel out the ridges of his body, trying to match his own confident movements as he feels you up.

One of your hands makes its way to his v-line, something you’d seen over plenty of boat trips. You’d always wanted the opportunity to touch it, to trace it, to watch it bend and flex as he rolled his hips. You’re being afforded that opportunity now and it is sweet.

“I thought you might like that,” Jack murmurs. “Caught you staring once. Was the same day you wore my favorite red swimsuit out.”

“I still have it,” you tell him, gasping a little when his hand slides up to your chest. He tweaks your nipple, then his hand retreats. 

“Mm, a treat for tomorrow,” Jack says. “I’m gonna have you walking around in that thing all day just so I can look at you. For now…”

He trails off, pushing the bottom of your shirt up and leaving your lips to attach his to the freshly revealed skin of your torso. He kisses up your body with each inch he reveals, between your breasts and up your neck. He pulls your shirt off, letting it join his own on the floor, and gets his first proper look at your tits.

“Been waiting to see these,” he continues, eyes fixed on your chest like he’s being hypnotized. He places his hands on you and squeezes, feeling your supple flesh between his fingers. You moan out at the sensation, the noise spurring him on. “Wanna know a secret?”

“Yeah,” you agree, nodding and tugging at his joggers, hoping he’ll get the hint and remove them.

“‘ve wanted to come on these tits since I first saw it in a porno,” Jack reveals, still mesmerized by your chest. “Thought about it a hundred times.”

You can’t help but laugh. “Come on my tits all you want, but you have to fuck me first.”

“Guess your Saturday night wasn’t so boring after all,” Jack says before he stands from the bed and tugs his pants off. He joins you again, wrapping your legs around his waist and kissing over your face. He grinds against you, his clothed cock sliding against your damp panties in a way that has you both keening into each others’ mouths. 

“Guess not,” is your reply, cut short by another moan when Jack’s hand claims your chest again.

You move without speaking after that, fueled only by the desire coursing through your veins after years of pining and aching for the other. 

Jack feels you out and eventually discards his own underwear before removing yours, returning to the missionary position that you had assumed as soon as you had first kissed. It’s sweeter this way– and you both need to see the other’s face, to feel their breath mix with your own. Your chests are flush together, your nipples scraping against the defined and broad swoops of his skin. You grind against each other for a few minutes more, his dick sliding between the wet lips of your pussy with nothing blocking it. He groans into your ear as your juices coat his length, eyes closed in a grimace that is completely charged by his pleasure.

“Condom?” is the last thing he asks, with you shaking your head and replying, “Pill.”

He lines himself up, mouth agape with a choked breath as he thrusts into your tight, wet heat. Your head finds the mattress beneath you, your back arching up as he fills you. You can feel his veins sliding against your walls, the blunt and weeping tip of his cock poking at your deepest parts.

He moves like a man possessed and fighting the beast– like he wants to let loose but at the same time, restraining himself. When you tug on his hair, the subtle waves that he’s been growing out over the summer and hiding beneath his hat in every picture you’ve seen, and whine out his name, Jack’s control vanishes.

He starts to piston his hips into your cunt, burying his face into your neck and letting out ecstasy-fueled whimpers each time you clench down. He curses in your ear, voice a little higher than it normally is, and the intimacy and vulnerability of the moment has your heart clenching. 

“J– J–” You chant, mewling as his cockhead drives against the back wall of your pussy in hard thrusts that make your head spin. 

“So good,” he grits out, kissing over your neck and catching your earlobe between his lips for a moment before dropping it. One of his hands is splayed over your hip, the other securely planted next to your head. “So tight.”

“Coming,” you warn, your fingers finding his bicep and clenching, fingernails digging into his skin so much that you won’t be surprised if you break skin. Your voice is high, too, octaves higher because of the pleasure you’re experiencing.

“Fuck, yeah, baby, come on my cock,” Jack pants out, the hand from your hip coming to rub circles over your clit. 

It sends a shock up your spine and has your hips bucking up to meet his, your entire lower half shaking as your climax approaches. Your eyes roll into the back of your head and your vision goes spotty when you do come, just seconds after his groaned encouragement. Your entire body tenses, freezing with Jack still inside of you, making it damn near impossible for him to continue pumping his hips. 

He slides from your opening as you’re coming, bringing some of the slick with him in a feeble excuse for a squirt. His dick bobs, hard and an angry red that might be the most beautiful color you’ve ever seen in your hazy, post-orgasmic state.

Jack comes up to straddle your stomach, stripping his cock quickly with a tight fist, chest heaving. You know he wants to come on your chest, having already given him permission, but your mouth opens and your tongue lolls out in an invitation that Jack can’t deny. He shuffles up further on his knees, his whimper sounding pained as his milky cum spurts from the tip of his cock and lands along the flat of your tongue and your lips.

His spurts grow weaker, although he’s still stroking his dick in a fervorous pace, whining a little more at the oversensitivity. His cum makes his way to your chest, just dripping down the length of his shaft and pooling over your tits. 

You reach up with one hand and trace your fingers through the seed, causing Jack to sway a little on top of you at the sight. His cheeks are flushed and pink, eyes blue and clear like he can’t believe what he’s seeing. Your fingertips brush your nipple, spreading the cum over it before you bring your hand up to your mouth and suck the remaining liquid off of your skin, swallowing it with a hum.

Jack is off of you in a flash, pulling you on top of his lap and joining your lips. The last of his cum, painted across your tongue in a thin layer, mixes with your spit as he kisses you. He’s desperate, filling your mouth with his tongue until you can barely breathe, tasting himself on you until it’s indistinguishable– where you end and he begins.

It takes a long time for Jack to finally pull away, for you both to come down from your highs and take a breath.

In typical Jack fashion, he can’t stop himself from joking around.

“Trevor’s really going to kill me now,” he says. “There’s a chance he’ll never let us be in the same room again.”

You laugh, knowing already that neither of you will be willing to let this– whatever this is– go just because your brother has something to say about it. “In that case, we’ll just have to sneak away.”

notes: I WANTED TO NAME THIS "BFB" AFTER THE VICTORIOUS SONG SOOOOOO BAD!!!!! but alas. it's best friend's sister. maybe some other time. blahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. well now wait that's a good idea...

[6esiree]

Gen Z Things With The Hazbin Men Pt. 2

Have this while I finish up the next imagine <3 No Zestial this time around, I’m sorry! I couldn’t find anything for him.

Alastor:

Tooth-Rotting Nicknames

“Go to sleep my little coconut-flavored icecream,” You say, wrapping your arms around Alastor’s shoulders from behind, making him jump. “Or tomorrow you’ll be tired, my sweet sugar pancake.”

“I do not understand your generation,” Alastor chuckles, his cheeks growing warm as the sound of you giving him a big smooch envelops his radio tower. “But very well, darling.”

He stands up from his seat and offers you his hand, thankful for his coat as it shields his wagging tail from your sight.

Lucifer:

The Squishmallows Are Watching

“Do you think the Squishmallows in my room ever, like, watch in horror as you raw dog me?” You say, your limbs tangled underneath the sheets with Lucifer’s.

“Why did that thought cross your mind?” Lucifer stutters, his eyes darting between you and the cute, innocent plushies discarded on the ground.

“I don’t know, but I think I’m going to start turning them around,” You say, and he can’t tell if you’re being serious or not. “I feel bad for them.”

Husk:

Are You Ovulating?

“I like ya hair today, dollface,” Husk says as you take a seat at the bar, winking at you when you blush at his compliment.

The smug bastard.

“Then why don’t you pull it back and forth?” You purr, his eyes widening, but just for a moment.

“Ya ovulatin’?” Husk arches a brow at you, leaning onto the counter, his tail swishing below in excitement.

“How’d you know?” You ask, but he just shrugs, mumbling something about, ‘Just a hunch.’

Vox:

The Pick-Up Line

“All the grip I lost on reality went straight to my pussy,” You say as you approach Vox.

“Excuse me?” Vox stutters, putting his phone down.

“I’m serious, like, do you want me to show you?” You grin, leaning onto his arm with an enticing smile.

“Is that supposed to be a pick-up line?” Vox asks before sighing and wrapping an arm around you. “It’s stupid but it worked on me—come on.”

Adam:

Getting Bullied On Stream

“Ban the guy who just said I’m the reason they created double doors,” Adam says midway into his stream, trying to focus on his game. “Like, what?”

You try not to laugh, but then another out-of-pocket message pops up on his screen, making you fold.

“Daddy, pay my student loans?” You repeat through tears, clutching your stomach as Adam stares in horror.

“DON’T CALL ME DADDY!”

Angel Dust:

A Temporary Break-Up

“Wtf, I can’t believe after all that shit they’re back together,” You text Angel, instantly piquing his interest.

“Omg who?” Angel texts you back.

“My ass cheeks LMFAOOO.”

As soon as he hears you busting your ass off from the other side of the hotel, he blocks you.

Sir Pentious:

The To-Do List

“Darling, what isss that?” Sir Pentious asks as he looms over you, curious.

You jump, but it’s too late to hide what you were holding: a To-Do List. You had several boxes checked out but one.

“Uhhh,” You say, shooting him a nervous smile as his face flushes upon reading what’s on it.

- Give Pentious 100 hickeys on his chest at 9 o’clock.

“Must we wait til then?” Sir Pentious asks in earnest, twiddling his fingers as he stares up at the ceiling.

Valentino:

Attracting Flies

“I don’t chase, I attract,” Valentino says, taking a long drag of his cigarette.

You slowly turn to him with a shit-eating grin on your face. Velvette notices and she tries to stop you, but she’s too late.

“What do you attract, flies? Because I know you don’t—“ Velvette grabs you before he can throttle you.

Saint Peter:

I’m Not Your Baby Daddy

“Hey! Uh, I’m sure you’re wondering why I’ve asked you to meet me here,” Saint Peter starts, nervously scratching the back of his neck.

“No, not really,” You shrug, taking a sip of your drink.

“Are you sure?” Saint Peter asks, coming clean when you simply nod. “Okay, I asked you to come here because—look,” He leans over the table, whispering the next part with a blush, “Why are you telling people I’m your ‘Baby Daddy’?”

“I was just bored,” You say, leaning in with a smile, your face mere centimeters away from his. “I don’t hear you complaining, though. Wanna make it a reality?”

He freezes, caught off-guard, but he doesn’t say no to you.

[flowerandblood]

The Lost Haven (4/16)

[ modern mafia • Aemond x niece • female ]

[ warnings: uprotected sex, drunk sex (with consent), incest obviously, smut, fingering, the angst, suicidal thoughts, description of cruel physical violence, bad, bad things ]

[ description: The vacation from eight years ago still haunts his memories and doesn't let him forget what happened between him and his niece, the daughter of his sister and Harwin Strong. Their paths separate and he immerses himself in his father's mafia world until the day she calls him for the first time since those events. Sexual tension, dark, dangerous, withdrawn, thirsty Aemond. ]

Author’s note: As promised, this is another, this time official modern version of The Fall from the Heavens. In this version, Daemon is not related to the family, but is simply Rhaenyra's husband and the leader of the second gang, Alys and Larys are also not related to each other, but Larys is Harwin's brother. I will partly refer to the original series, hiding some easter eggs, and some will be a completely new, fresh plot. As in every universe, only Aemond calls her Rhaenys and this is not her real name (she is unnamed character and the others also do not know that he calls her that). There will be a lot more brutality and angst in this version, so watch out. You can read this as a standalone story. Song used in this chapter: Every Breath You Take by The Police

Series & Characters Moodboard Aemond & Rhaenys Moodboard

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

Over the next few days, Daemon tried to get out of her what had happened and who had put the rape pill into her drink. To his fury, she lied that some guy she didn't know had done it, afraid of what would happen if her stepfather declared war on Larys Strong.

She figured this man wanted just that.

Chaos that he would be able to cash in on, using what was happening to destroy them.

"I do not comprehend you. From now on, I or your mother will be dropping you off and bringing you back from your classes at the University. No meeting friends or going out until you come to your senses." He communicated to her coldly and she replied nothing, not having the strength to stand up to him.

It wouldn't do any good anyway.

Although she should have been worried and terrified, she felt a strange kind of excitement and tension because her uncle, whom she hadn't seen for eight years, had really taken her out of there.

He had really helped her.

She closed her eyes, remembering the touch of his warm, broad hand on hers and his voice, so different from his childish one, deep and low.

Her heart beat harder at that memory, a pleasant, familiar warmth rippling through her lower abdomen.

She felt she had to write him something and after hours of thought she simply wrote the usual thank you. She couldn't stop the feeling of disappointment that spread through her body when he didn't write her back, even though she checked her phone once in a while.

For some reason, she had naively believed that something would now change between them, that she would regain contact with him, that his person would return to her life making her able to finally close this difficult chapter of her past.

However, he remained silent, exactly as he had done for eight years.

She thought it would stay that way until it turned out that her grandfather was organising his sixtieth birthday party with pomp and her whole family was to attend.

"No." She heard Daemon's voice standing in the corridor, overhearing in silence their conversation which he was having with her mother in his office. "There's no way I'm shaking that whore's hand."

"Daemon. My father is dying. You can only show up for a little while and then lock yourself in a hotel room. None of us like it, but I don't want to say no to a man who may not be among the living tomorrow."

Although no one seemed to be happy about it, they were all going to travel there and with each day approaching the event, she was panicking more and more.

She was going to see him for the first time in eight years.

He had no Facebook, Instagram or any other social media accounts: she had no idea what kind of person he was now, what he looked like.

She was afraid that seeing him would make her feel disappointed, that something inside her would finally snap, that the thought that all was lost would make her fall into a state she would never get out of again.

In addition, no one but her knew about what Larys Strong had told her.

Otto Hightower had ordered the murder of your father.

How was she supposed to look that man in the eye?

How was she supposed to look her uncle in the eye knowing he worked for him?

Driving there in their big, black Mercedes she felt like she was about to throw up, her heart pounding like crazy, making her head spin.

"Are you all right? You're pale. I don't want to go there either." Said Jace, glancing at her over his shoulder from the front passenger seat.

Daemon, who had been driving while her mother, following behind them drove the other car, looked at her in the reflection of his mirror, throwing her a piercing, menacing look.

He knew she was hiding something, he could feel it, and the tension between them grew more and more.

When they arrived, they were all searched: no guns were allowed inside.

This was to give the guests some sort of sense of security.

As they walked into the great hall, she was overwhelmed on the one hand by how many people were there, but on the other she was glad to disappear into the crowd. She felt her heart stop for a moment when she spotted Aegon talking to his mother – his blonde hair was pulled back, his jacket carelessly thrown over his shirt, sunglasses on his head.

She spotted Viserys sitting next to him, she spotted Helaena, she even spotted Otto measuring her with a focused gaze, but she didn't see him anywhere.

She felt a wave of disappointment at the thought that he would not come.

As they sat in their seats, searching for their name cards, she felt she was on the verge of crying.

He won't come because of her.

He would never forgive her.

They were served starters and drink, the loud music and the conversations of the people around her made her feel like she was at a wedding, only the guests were individuals she wanted nothing to do with.

She saw how tense Daemon was, looking around the room impatiently, throwing Otto Higtower a warning glance once in a while.

She saw out of the corner of her eye that someone had entered the room and froze, recognising him instantly – he was looking at her, his healthy eye wide open, his nostrils quivering with each of his deep, anxious breaths.

She was taken aback by how tall he was, how drawn and sharply defined his jaw and nose were, his pale, long scar running from his eyebrow arch to his cheek.

He was dressed all in black, in a leather jacket and turtleneck tucked into belted trousers, his short hair, although visibly styled in a hurry, looked elegant.

She wanted to get up, to approach him, to thank him for everything he had done, but as she rose from her seat he immediately turned his head away, something akin to disgust flashed across his face, from which she felt a squeeze in her gut.

She watched, feeling like an idiot as he took his seat next to Aegon and turned tense, thinking that she needed to get out of this place as soon as possible.

She walked out into the garden and headed towards the pier, wanting to be alone – she felt like her heart was about to leap out of her chest, burning tears squeezed under her eyelids, wanting to run down her face.

He couldn't even look at her.

He just pretended not to see her.

She couldn't say why it hurt her so much, why she couldn't let him go when he wanted it so badly: she felt there were years of unsaid words between them, wrongs that had never been made up for.

There had been no apology or explanation from anyone's lips, nothing to help her get back on the right track.

She sat on the wooden platform, staring dully into the black surface of the water, thinking about how it looked in the starlight as if it were some disgusting, dark, dangerous thick mass.

She had a feeling that if she jumped into it she would be all sticky.

She shuddered as she heard someone's footsteps, convinced for some reason that it was Daemon who had come out after her, unable to bear sitting with all these people alone. As she turned over her shoulder she froze, noticing him and stood up quickly, terrified by his gaze, piercing and cold, his eye wide open.

Her heart pounded like mad, her breath heavy in her chest as she watched him pull a packet of cigarettes and a lighter from his jacket pocket, his gaze fixed on her face.

"− what were you doing there? −" He asked finally.

She shuddered to hear that his voice was exactly like the one in her dream: cold, deep and low. She swallowed hard, overwhelmed by how close he stood to her, that he had come to her, that he smelled of some intense, masculine perfume.

"− what do you mean? −" She choked out with difficulty, unable to take her eyes off his face.

He took his time answering − he leaned with the cigarette between his full lips over the flame, its tip lit red and hissed as he took a drag.

"− what were you doing in that club −" He hummed. "− looking for a new experiences? −"

Something in the way he said it, mocking and amused, made her feel discomfort and pain in her chest. She furrowed her eyebrows, unsure of what she should answer to such a brazenly asked question, surprised by his directness.

His lips tightened in displeasure, something in his gaze changed – she had the impression that his iris had turned completely black as he puffed out smoke with his mouth, the smell of tobacco filling her lungs.

"− I don't like to ask twice −" He said coolly, making an unpleasant shiver pass along her back. She swallowed loudly feeling that her whole body tensed, ready to run away.

There was something about him that she feared, as if he wasn't fully human.

You don't even know what monsters lurk in the shadows.

"− I wanted to find out how my father died −" She said finally, wanting to see how he would react to her words.

To her surprise, he burst out laughing, however, it was a downright chilling sound that had nothing to do with genuine amusement. He tapped his finger on his cigarette, causing ash to fly to the ground.

"− and what did you find out? −"

She looked at him with big eyes feeling her heart in her throat, wondering if she should tell him, if she should confront him.

Will he kill her for what she says?

Will he hurt her family?

Despite the questions in her head, it seemed to her that her words had left her mouth without participation of her will.

"− that your grandfather killed him −"

He stared at her for a moment, surprised, his hand frozen in mid-motion to his mouth as he laughed again – this time it sounded like a low chuckle.

"− who told you that? − Larys Strong? − was he the one who dragged you there? −" He sneered making her feel a cold sweat run down her back.

How did he know?

Seeing the look on her face he grinned in a way from which she felt a shiver sweep through her − her breath caught in her throat as he took a few steps towards her, towering over her with an expression on his face from which she could read nothing, taking a drag on the remnants of his cigarette.

"− it was Larys who reported him − after the death of his father and brother, all the fortune fell to him − my grandfather just passively looked on −"

She felt as if he had stabbed her in the heart with his words − the real pain in her chest made her open her mouth wide, her eyes filled with tears of horror.

Larys had used her like a silly little girl.

He had planned everything.

"− did you know about this? −" She muttered, for some reason wanting to believe he had nothing to do with it.

The smile disappeared from his face, as if her question had frustrated him.

"− everyone knew −" He replied. "− he passed sentence on himself when he started talking with the police − his days were numbered anyway −"

His answer made her simply move ahead, bursting into a sudden, hysterical sob, as if everything she had held inside her for the past days, months, years, had poured out of her like a dark, viscous, thick wave that could not be stopped.

Everyone knew.

She sighed and squealed when she felt his wide hand clamp down aggressively on her arm like steel tongs, turning her violently back towards him, causing her pain. She tried to push him away, panting and whimpering, something about his movements, his brutality, the ache he was causing her gave her pleasure.

Some part of her felt she deserved it.

Some part of her wanted him to kill her, to strangle her with his own hands.

She sobbed when his hand tightened on her hot cheeks, wet and red from the tears that flowed down her face, forcing her to look at him − his wide-open eye seemed completely black to her, his lips parted in a heavy, drawn-out breath swollen with excitement and rage.

He was so obscenely close, watching her as if she were some pretty, interesting, expensive object, the smell of his perfume, his sweat and his cigarettes made her dizzy, everything around them seemed blurry to her.

"− don't you miss your favourite uncle anymore? − hm? −" He breathed out at last, his words on the verge of a hiss, his face so close that the tips of their noses rubbed against each other once in a while.

There was a kind of desperation and helplessness in what he was doing, in his words, in his gaze fixed lustfully on her lips, as if he wanted to bite her.

The person in front of her had killed the boy she loved and she knew it perfectly well.

"− I don't recognise you − God, I don't recognise you −" She mumbled at last, feeling the warm tears of grief run down her cheeks.

She closed her eyes, thinking that he could do whatever he wanted to her − strangle her or throw her in the water – she would let him do anything as long as she finally stopped feeling anything.

She squealed in pain as his fingers dug into her tender skin as hard as if he wanted to break her jaw − he took a loud breath through his mouth and shuddered as if something in her words had broken him.

"− good − because I don't fucking recognise myself either −" He hissed out in a trembling, dispassionate voice full of pain from which she felt hot in her heart.

A quiet sigh escaped her lips as his forehead pressed against hers, accepting at last that his brutality stemmed from a need for closeness, a need to take by force what he was sure she would never give him of her own free will.

Something in his words and in his gesture of despair made her hands, clenched until now on his jacket, rise higher, to his neck and to his face, running slowly over his jawline. He sighed and shuddered, feeling it, closing his eyes for a moment, the grip of his fingers on her cheeks easing.

She felt her nipples harden under the material of her dress, felt the space between her thighs swell and pulsate at the thought of what she wanted to do.

The moan that involuntarily escaped his throat when her fleshy, moist lips ran over his sounded sweet and innocent, the lick of his tongue that was his response made them cling to each other in a violent, loud, sticky kiss.

It had nothing to do with a gentle caress because it seemed to her that they were simply trying to devour each other − their hands clamped down on each other's bodies as if they wanted to merge into one, their slick tongues meeting again and again between their teeth, licking and teasing each other with loud clicks of their saliva, stripping this act of any sense of innocence.

They knew it was wrong and that's why they wanted it so badly, so when his fingers tightened on her plump buttocks, pressing her against the throbbing bulge in his trousers, she felt her sticky wetness run down her thigh, her hands clenched on his hair, letting him know he could take what he wanted.

"− it's your fault − it's your fault −" He panted into her mouth between deep, passionate, messy, hot kisses, his lips beneath hers swollen and wonderfully wet – he tasted of mint chewing gum and cigarettes, something forbidden, strange, terrifying.

He was a monster, and she wanted him to devour her.

There was no longer a lamp to light for her.

"− mghm −" She mumbled as she felt his hips begin to roll back and forth, rubbing deliberately against her lower abdomen, his tongue thrusting again and again deep into her throat, telling her that he could fuck her, he could destroy her, he could take everything from her, and she felt a wonderful heat in her lower abdomen at the thought.

She wanted him to do this to her.

She wanted to know what it would be like to feel him there, deep inside her.

What it was like to have someone devour you with every thrust of his hips, every loud sigh of desire that was wrong in itself, what it was like to experience fulfilment on the brink of revelation.

"− are you sure you saw her here? −" She heard Daemon's voice and froze, pulling away from him instantly.

They looked at each other with big eyes, pale and terrified, panting hard and quivering as if they didn't recognise each other.

Oh God, oh God, oh my fucking God!

"− I'm here − I'm coming −" She called out in a trembling voice and ran towards them, towards the light, seeing the silhouettes of her step-father and her brother standing just inside the entrance where two evening lamps were lit.

Back to the light, back to the light, back to the light.

Oh God, oh God, oh God.

Daemon furrowed his brow as he looked at her, his gaze fleeing to the side, far away to the silhouette of her uncle standing in the distance.

"Did he do something to you?" He asked coldly.

"N-no. No, I just thanked him for what he did for me. Let's go inside." She lied, stepping back into the hall, struck immediately by the loud music, Every Breath You Take was playing all around her, dancing pairs of businessmen, gangsters and drug dealers made her feel like she was about to vomit.

Oh, can't you see You belong to me? How my poor heart aches With every step you take?

"Mum, excuse me, will you show me what room I'm going to sleep in? I feel bad." She muttered with difficulty feeling like she was suffocating, her heart pounding like mad.

His tongue deep in her throat, his heavy breath smelling of cigarettes and mint, his swollen lips pressed against hers as if he had been dreaming of this moment for years.

This is your fault.

Rhaenyra stroked her shoulder, worried, and rose from her seat.

"Are you sure? There will be birthday cake and wishing soon." She said softly, but she shook her head, the words of the song echoing around her had her on the verge of crying.

Since you've gone, I've been lost without a trace I dream at night, I can only see your face I look around, but it's you I can't replace I feel so cold, and I long for your embrace I keep crying, baby, baby please

"I can't make it." She whispered.

She and her mother went to get her backpack with her things from their car, and then they walked to the hotel part of the manor − the lady at the reception gave them the right key, and her mother escorted her to her room wanting to make sure she could manage.

"Do you need anything? Shall I give you some pills for a stomach ache?" She asked, but she shook her head quickly, opening the door with her card.

"No, thank you. And I'm sorry. Have a good night."

"Don't apologise, my love. Sleep well."

As she closed the door behind her she turned on the light and saw that her room was tiny: it contained a small toilet, and beyond that a single bed, a desk with one chair and a wardrobe for clothes.

She pulled off her dress, washed her face and teeth, then changed into her pyjamas, which were really just an oversized white T-shirt and panties. The night was warm, so she turned off the light and opened the window, lying down in bed.

She tried not to think about what had happened, about how wonderfully he had kissed, about how she had never felt with any boy she had dated what she had felt with him, after years of separation.

She thought she was broken, that she was attracted to something that would help her destroy herself.

Even though her whole body screamed for her to relieve herself with her hand, to sink her own fingers into her warm folds, leaking with desire, she decided that she would not do it, that she would keep the remnants of her dignity before herself.

She fell asleep only hours later from exhaustion, dreaming of him, of him coming to her, of him taking the pillow in his hands, only to press it to her face.

She shuddered, terrified, seeing only darkness around her, hearing some noise. Only after a moment did she realise that someone was knocking on her door.

"− Rhaenys − fuck −" She heard his unclear mumble indicating that he was barely conscious and drunk. Her shoulders lifted in some subconscious defensive gesture, her lips parted in a terrified, accelerated breath.

Oh no, oh, God, no, no, no, no.

She heard a rustling and a thump, as if someone had fallen over, her hands clenched into a fist on the fabric of her duvet.

"− I want to go to sleep −" He muttered so that she barely heard him. She covered her mouth with her hand, feeling that his words, his request, what he subconsciously wanted was tearing at her heart.

He wanted to return to that moment, to fall asleep beside her as he had then.

It frightened her how well she understood him.

She stood up on trembling legs, feeling that they were as soft as cotton wool, and walked quietly to the door, pressing the handle slowly. She looked uncertainly out into the corridor, afraid of what she would see – his silhouette sat on the floor leaning against the wall, his head bowed, a nearly empty bottle of whisky in his hand.

He was not coping.

"Come." She whispered.

He shuddered and lifted his gaze to her, his stare soft and dishevelled. He muttered something under his breath, trying to get up, but fell over, collapsing to his knees, his bottle falling out of his hand, spilling its contents on the floor.

"− fuck −" He growled, wanting to reach for it and pick it up.

"− no − leave it − come inside −" She mumbled quietly, afraid someone would hear or see them.

His body was heavy and numb, making her help him up with great difficulty − he had to grab onto the frame of her door and lean against the wall to keep from falling over, and after a moment he slumped down on her bed, sighing heavily.

She closed the door behind him, swallowing loudly, and walked slowly towards him. He only flinched when she untied his shoes and pulled them off his feet, but furrowed his brow, displeased when she tried to pull his leather jacket off him.

"− you'll be too hot −" She muttered, slipping it off his shoulders but unable to pull it from behind his back, which was crushing the material. She squealed, surprised, placing her hands on his chest for balance as he drew her down with a sudden, sharp movement, causing her to fall against his body.

"− come here − God, you smell so good −" He exhaled making her moist insides pulsate greedily around nothing, a pleasant, tickling sensation filled her lower abdomen as his fingers ran through her hair in a gesture she might call affectionate.

He forced her to bend over so that her body clung to his − his thighs parted so that she could feel what was happening to him, how hard he was because of her proximity, while his lips clung to hers with a loud, messy click.

He smelled of alcohol, the taste of whisky melting on her tongue with each of his wet, hot, hungry licks − his hands slid from her neck down her back to her buttocks, slipping under her panties, his fingers digging into the soft texture of her skin.

"− tell me to leave −" He gasped out. "− tell me to stop −"

She moaned softly into his moist lips, knowing that she should do it.

But she didn't.

She felt his erection pulsate hard beneath her as she let the motions of his hands guide her body, rubbing against the bulge between his thighs, her weeping cunt all hot and swollen with desire, leaking with longing.

How could she let him do this?

How could it be so pleasurable?

She got the answer to her questions when his fingers slid deeper between her legs − she squirmed in his mouth, simultaneously terrified and delighted when the tips of his fingers found her hot, throbbing slit, slowly teasing her opening.

"− shhh − easy now −" He whispered in such a way that she felt a tickling shudder run through her lips, nipples and insides making her wetness begin to drip onto his hand, the circular motions of his fingers pressing wonderfully into her sticky folds began to be accompanied by the quiet clicks of her moisture.

She moaned into his mouth like a helpless little child − he hushed her as if he wanted to soothe and calm her, one hand placing on her head, combing his fingers through her hair, the other teasing her puffy little bud, once in a while running over her entrance, making wonderful waves of heat flow again and again through their bodies.

Their kisses became deep and lazy as they concentrated on the movements of their hips, rocking them so that they brushed against each other.

She shuddered and squirmed, shocked when she felt the tip of his middle finger sink between her fleshy walls, soaking wet with desire, sliding in and out of her with the sticky sound of her moisture, making her hips roll back and forth, coming out to meet him.

"− uncle − we can't − we can't, we can't, we can't −" She mumbled out, feeling his tongue thrust deep between her mouth with his sigh of pleasure, repeating the movements of his finger between her lips, her hands roaming over his cheeks and hair, stroking him tenderly as if she loved him.

As if she loved him.

"− we can − we will − we need to prepare you properly − shhh −" He gasped softly, making her body arch in a spasm of pleasure, a helpless, girlish moan ripped from her throat as his finger sank fully into the hot, soft structure of her throbbing cunt.

"− please − it's wrong − God, it's so wrong −" She whimpered, feeling tears of terror begin to run down her cheeks, her hands clenched on the material of his black turtleneck, her hips falling and rising on his finger, seeking fulfilment.

They both knew it wasn't enough.

"− shhh − I know, baby − I will take care of you − I got you −" He whispered as his free hand from her head slid down between their bodies, undoing his belt and the button of his trousers − she cried out loudly as she felt him slide them down along with his boxers, his fingers slick with her wetness pushing the material of her panties aside, directing her swollen, pulsing slit at the head of his cock.

"− please, Aemond, please −" She mewled, trying to pull away at the same time and spreading her legs wider, involuntarily allowing him to open her wide on his thick, long erection.

"− let me − I need you −" He exhaled, tilting his head back only to look again a moment later at their bodies, at what he was doing to her, at the way he was forcing himself deep into his niece's body.

The experience was wonderfully painful and pleasurable, as if something that had remained empty had at last been filled, as if she was at last whole, as if his body had always been part of hers.

Her walls offered him only apparent resistance, clenching against him in delight, his quiet, helpless moans were evidence of how good it felt.

She let him sink into her fully, sitting up on top of him, placing her hands on his chest, surrendering − she tilted her head back as his hips with deep, sure thrusts began to slam his cock into her body, his fingers clenched on her soft buttocks.

"− I − ah − mghmmm − G-God −" She mumbled out, bursting into sobs, parting her lips wide, leaning lower, letting him rub her with each stab where she needed it − her silky walls began to throb around his erection, soaking him wet, their breaths heavy and hitched, full of helplessness and vulnerability.

She felt strangely full, with each movement of his hips deep inside her body realising what they were doing and how sickeningly pleasurable it was.

"− thaaat's it − that's my girl − fuck, so good −" He exhaled, drifting off completely into the world of his fantasies, with steady, deep pushes building their way to fulfilment.

She thought in disbelief, panting heavily, that the experience of feeling him inside her was something almost spiritual, a revelation of sorts, her body rocking to the rhythm of his thrusts without involving her will.

What they were doing seemed both animalistic and natural to her, as if it was obvious that it had to end this way.

"− just a little more − please, just a little more − let me cum inside, baby −" He mumbled softly, his hands spreading her buttocks apart, allowing him to sink deeper into her fleshy core − she leaned over him and kissed him, their tongues colliding, licking each other in the most ungodly, perverted, lewd way imaginable.

"− A-Aemond − Aemond-Aemond-Aemond − ah! −" She whined into his mouth as he wove his hand into her hair and sank her face into his neck, feeling her warm moisture run down his thighs − her moans and cries of delight were muffled by his skin as her cunt squeezed and sucked him deep inside her in a stunning, overpowering orgasm that shook her body like a wonderful, hot, tickling wave.

She heard him sigh loudly and tilt his head back, clamping his fingers on her flesh, his body convulsing several times as if he had suffered some kind of attack when his hot seed filled her insides at last.

"− God − oh my fucking God −" He gasped out, panting heavily along with her, their hips moving for a moment more in a subconscious desire to prolong this feeling full of relief and warmth.

"− oh, baby −" He whispered, stroking her head and buttocks as if she were a small child.

For some reason unfathomable to her, she was not indebted to him, stroking his torso, neck and jaw, snuggled into him as she had been then, many years ago, feeling at peace, feeling safe, feeling good.

She felt his hand slide from her ass under his back, slipping his leather jacket out from under them, with which he covered their hips. His hand returned immediately to her soft buttock, as if he liked the feel of her silky skin under his hand, his soft manhood pulsing gently deep inside her.

She didn't mind.

"− sleep − don't worry − I want this baby −" He muttered and she swallowed hard, smiling involuntarily, wondering if he even understood what he was saying to her.

I want this baby.

His drunken alter ego was ready to become a father if it turned out that she became pregnant.

She sighed quietly and closed her eyes, focusing only on his scent, on his heart pounding hard beneath her breasts, on his broad hands embracing her body.

She thought, feeling a strange lightness in her heart, that she hadn't felt this wonderful in eight years.

[artdcnaldson]

ok remember when I said that last ask was the horniest thing I'd ever written? Well scratch that bc this is a new record. (Obligatory disclaimer if you don't like it feel free to delete/ignore it)

Imagine- if you will- tashi bringing you to one of arts games. And you're in a sweet little tennis dress and you sit next to her and watch art, not even paying attention to the game just taking in his form, the shine of sweat, the concentration on his face, the little grunts and moans. And obviously you start shifting around in your seat, because, what are you supposed to be??? Dry???? No! So, it's the last break and tashi takes you to the bathroom and makes you lean over so she can check on the situation, and your white panties are so wet they're basically see through (in an ideal world she would've banned you from wearing any just to torture you but unfortunately they're famous and with the press and everything it's too much of a risk 😞 ) and you're really hoping she'll help you out but she just goes "hmm" and takes you back to your seat. And the breaks not over, arts noticed that yall were gone and he's making eye contact with tashi and she just. Nods at him. And he's already winning but for the rest of the match he's on fire, practically wiping the floor with the other guy.

After it's over and he's won and done all the press and stuff, you ride back to their hotel, with tashi in the middle bc she's the only one who can be trusted to keep control of herself. You and art are practically vibrating, with desire and exhilaration respectively. So you get back to the hotel room and tashi tells art to go sit on the couch. Then finally, she gives you a little jerk of her chin and you scramble to put yourself over his knee bc you know that he's always antsy after a win but tashi will want to go over everything while it's as fresh as possible, so you just hang out there and let him play with your sopping cunt and ignore you, just feeling him hard against your stomach but satiated for now since he has something to do while he listens to tashis critiques. When she's done she'll give you further instructions and maybe reward you for good behavior.

(am I gonna become a smut writer this is kinda fun)

I’m so fucking obsessed. I’m on my knees. Anything to keep Artashi happy 😁🫵 just look at them

Rating: E(18+)

Warnings: SMUT (p in v, face sitting, fingering, mild mommy/daddy kink, mild dom/sub dynamics) that’s it that’s the story. Just porn without plot

your brain is just sooo fuzzy and mindless while art’s playing with you. The cute shorts you wore beneath the dress tugged to the side, his fingers stuffed inside of you, your own juices smeared down your thigh, spilling more with each slow thrust of his fingers. It could be a few minutes, or an hour. You just know that you lose yourself in the rise and fall of Tashi’s voice as she runs through her notes, in the warm pressure of Art’s thighs pressing against you.

You must’ve gotten too loud, because Tashi’s kneeling in front of you— holding your chin in her hand, forcing eye contact. “Baby, how’s Art supposed to focus when you’re acting like this, huh? Tomorrow’s match is important, he needs to hear this.”

You whine. Big mistake. Tashi meets Art’s gaze, makes a face you don’t understand. And then Art’s slipping his fingers from your warm, needy cunt. “Clean him up,” Tashi instructs.

You wrap your lips around his fingers, sucking on them, cleaning any evidence of your arousal off. You take them deeper, feeling the brush of his fingers at the back of his throat. You moan softly— Tashi grabs your hair and pulls you off.

“Do you have any critiques for Art?” She asks. You blink slowly. Critiques?? What was there to critique?? “You were at the game. Show Art that you were paying attention.”

You opened and closed your mouth a few times as you looked into Art’s eyes. God, he was so pretty. And then your eyes traveled down, and he was so hard in his shorts that it was tenting the fabric. You just wanted to mouth at him through them, make him feel good. “I— I don’t.”

Tashi sighed, almost disappointed, but not really. Tennis critiques weren’t what you were there for. “It’s a good thing you’re pretty.” She patted your thigh. “Go lay down on the bed.”

You obey so sweetly— hands by your sides, fisted in the duvet so you won’t be tempted to touch yourself. Your thighs rub together as you seek friction, need pulsing between your thighs, adding to the mess of wetness.

It’s five minutes (which you know, because you count) until Tashi and Art join you. Art’s down to the fucking obscene briefs Tashi makes him wear, straining against the fabric obscenely. And Tashi’s wearing fucking agent provocateur, so beautiful that you could die happy just at the sight of her.

“If you paid attention to the match, we would’ve been really sweet to you,” Tashi hums as she takes off your dress. The shorts are soaked so badly that she practically peels them away from your cunt. “But all you could think about was getting fucked, huh?”

You nod as she presses two fingers between your lips, pushing all the way until she hits the back of your throat and you gag around them. She stays like that, thrusting her fingers between your lips, smiling every time your eyes fill with unshed tears and your throat constricts. “It’s been a long day. Just let mommy and daddy use you.”

And you do, because that’s all you can really ask for. Tashi slips off her lingerie, putting on a show without even trying. She straddles your face, knees planted on either side of your head, and sinks onto your waiting mouth.

You moan at the taste of her on your tongue, hands eagerly grabbing at her ass to pull her closer. Usually she would scold you for being greedy, but it was the farthest thing from her mind while she was benefiting from said neediness. You eagerly alternated between lapping at her dripping center and giving her clit the attention it needs.

And then there’s Art. He pulls apart your thighs and pushes into the tight, wet heat waiting for him there. You moan against Tashi’s cunt as he sinks inch after inch after inch inside. He groans at the feeling of your pussy gripping him, pulling him in, in, in. His grip on your hips is so tight it feels bruising.

You lose yourself in the two of them— brain going fuzzy and empty. All you knew, all that mattered in the moment was Tashi, and Art, and how good you felt.

And Tashi’s moaning above you— relishing in your need to please. Even with her husband balls deep inside of you, even with your mind so fuzzy, you keep your attention divided so fairly. You were so fucking nice, she didn’t even have to take the reins— she just got to sit there and let you work her with your tongue.

You were in fucking heaven. Art wasn’t content just using— it feels better when you cum while he’s inside of you. He moves you like a pretty little doll, adjusting you just right. He puts your legs over his shoulders so he gets deeper, kissing your cervix with each deep thrust. His thumb presses against your clit, rubs in slow circles.

Tashi cums first— hips stuttering as she grinds against your face. You relish in it, licking at her center as she comes down, until the lightest brush against her clit makes her twitch with overstimulation. She moves off of you, kissing you with slow, sweet laps of her tongue. You give a shuddery gasp into her mouth.

“Is daddy making you feel good?” Her words are cooed against your ear. You nod wordlessly, only capable of pretty moans or needy whines. She turns her gaze to Art, who’s already close as is, without the attention of his fucking perfect wife.

“Close,” Art groans, meeting her gaze. Her lips turn into an amused smirk as she pushes his thumb off of your clit, and replaces it with her own lithe fingers.

Your back arches as she works you with her fingers, pulling you closer and closer to the edge. Art continues to fuck into you. Each thrust is accompanied by lead, near pornographic sounds— the squelch of your soaked cunt swallowing his cock, the slap of his balls against your ass, the fucked-out moans passing his lips.

Your climax overtakes you suddenly. Your back arches off the bed as you cum. Your pussy clenches around Art’s cock as he continues to fuck into you, and your release leaves an obscene, creamy ring around the base of him. Tashi’s lips are on yours, swallowing down the moans and cries falling from your lips as Art fucks you into overstimulation.

Art buries himself within you as he cums, spilling into you with a few shallow thrusts. You whine when he finally pulls out and some of cum dribbles out, making an even bigger mess of the duvet.

Tashi pets your hair sweetly, kisses your sweat-sticky forehead. Art leaves to grab a towel— you hear him dampening it in the fancy en-suite bathroom. “By the way, I thought you shouldn’t get to cum.”

Art laughs lightly as he returns, cleaning you up between your thighs. “I told her I’d throw the match tomorrow, it always works.” He kisses you deeply, and you moan against his mouth. God, he was a good kisser.

“I can always just stop believing you,” Tashi reminded him. “Maybe I was in a giving mood.” Art snorts, you meet her gaze through narrowed eyes.

She’s right where she belongs. Art’s head is on her shoulder, yours rests on her chest. You’re all just a tangle of sweaty limbs.

TASHI DUNCAN I WONT U SO BAD 😚🫵

Sorry to Art he truly is a racket and a dick in this fic

[exhaslo]

Hello! This is something kind of niche but I was wondering if you could write a Pornstar!Miguel x Pornstar!Fem!Reader, where he is a new pornstar and meets with her the day before their shoot. He’s like super sweet to her and they have an informal hangout/date to like be comfortable around each other. Reader tries their best to ease his worry him cuz he seems kinda shy, but the day of their shoot he’s a total freak in the sheets and it totally catches her off guard? Dirty talk, dom and all.

I love your writing so much and I know you’ll do a great job writing whatever your heart desires for this one! Thx in advance <333

No lie this sounds cute as fuck! Here we go!

Warning: MINORS DNI, Smut, rough sex, dirty talk

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It was another beautiful day. You were ready to receive your next paycheck, but first, you had to help the new guy. A soft chuckle escaped your lips as you walked into a popular coffee shop. You were actually excited for this secret meetup. Normally, it was informal to meet your coworkers before a shoot, but this new guy? Oh, he was your type!

You were a pornstar. It is a long story on how you got into the business, but you were good at acting. A little too good. As you waited in line, you let out a soft sigh. While the paychecks were nice, you were really ready for something new. Cue, your manager making you a teacher and setting you up with newbies.

"Two extra shots of espresso." You muttered, trying to avoid groaning at the thought.

Despite the struggle of your job, you were eager for tomorrow. The new porn star, Miguel, was going to be your next partner. You saw his file and the man was huge and good looking. He was the one who actually asked to meet you in person. It was cute how shy he sounded over the phone.

"(Y/N)?" Miguel waves slowly, sitting in a corner table. You approached him with your drink,

"Hi, Miguel!" You said with a chirp, "My god, you're so tall."

"Sorry," Miguel went to shake your hand before immediately sitting down towards your comment.

You sat across from him, admiring his features. The man chose to become a porn star than a model? He was going to be an instant lady killer! Hopefully his acting was decent.

"Thanks again for meeting me. As you can tell, I'm a little nervous with this being my first shoot and all." Miguel said. You smiled,

"It's no biggie. It's kind of fun breaking the rules like this. Why don't we just chat about ourselves, get more comfortable with each other? I'm sure it will help you out a lot." You offered.

Miguel took the suggestion and the two of you spoke for hours. There was a chemistry there and you sensed it. You were disappointed when you had to leave for the night. Miguel parted ways with and kiss to your hand. He was such a gentleman! You were already imagining the slow and soft sex he was going to give you tomorrow.

It would be different for sure, but you were looking forward to it. Hopefully, Miguel won't disappoint you like all of your other coworkers. It was frustrating to work in the porn industry, but could never cum in your own videos. You always had to fake an orgasm and pleasure yourself later.

"Let's not think of the negative! Just...look forward for tomorrow," You told yourself.

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"Alright, you know the rules. First shoot, newbie gets to pick the theme. We will go from there afterwards," Your manager called out to the crew.

You glanced at Miguel, seeing him nervously look around, "Hey, it's going to be okay. I promise I won't bite, unless you want me too."

"Haha," Miguel smiled towards you, "Is it okay if we do something simple?"

"You get to pick. Why not something that will get you in the mood?" You suggested and showed him the costume room, "Is there something you want to see me wear?"

Miguel looked around, his eyes sparkling at some of the outfits. He glanced back at you,

"I know what I want to do."

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"Mhm~ I don't have any money for this massage~ Is there any other way I can pay you?"

You laid against a soft bed, spreading your naked legs apart. Your gaze towards Miguel as you slowly rubbed your own clit. Miguel had chosen a massage sex scene. Something where he could feel your body to get you prepped. How kind and generous of him. You hummed sweetly, faking a moan as you dove your fingers towards your hole.

"No money? That's fine, I'll just have to massage one more place before you can leave."

You're eyes widen as Miguel removed his pants. He hovered over you, stealing your lips in a forceful kiss before his hands roamed your body. You pressed yourself against him, your hand heading towards his cock. Miguel grabbed your wrists, pinning them above your head before growling lowly,

"I'm giving the massage. Not you, chica (girl)"

For once, you felt a shiver run down your spine. What happened to the shy man from yesterday? You're eyes widen as Miguel's fingers started to enter your pussy. He started with one, stretching you out more than some of your coworker's dicks. You raised your hips slightly, wanting to help him get more access, but once again he pinned you down.

"Tsk, tsk, do you come onto all your massage therapists?" Miguel spat lowly, "Being such a slut?"

You shivered once more to his cruel tone. He sucked against your breasts while another finger entered your pussy. Miguel's fingers were wandering around your gummy walls, searching for that sweet spot. This was different. You're eyes widen once he curled his fingers, making you moan for real.

"That's right. Pay your bill in full." Miguel whispered.

You gasped lowly as Miguel pumped his fingers against that spot. He removed himself from your breasts, keeping you held down. His thumb pressed against your clit, causing you to squirm under him. Miguel just kept making eye contact with you. It was as if he wanted to watch you break because of him.

"What a slutty face. You like this kind of massage right?"

"Y-Yes." You whimpered, feeling your body burn with pleasure.

This was actually happening. You felt a tight knot growing in your lower abdomen. Miguel's fingers only went faster. It wasn't long until he entered a third finger that really made you break. You arched your back, moaning and whining as he wrecked your pussy with just his fingers alone. With one more curl, you finally felt that tight tension burst.

"You're getting my work area dirty, that's going to cost extra."

You were panting softly from your intense orgasm. Miguel withdrew his fingers, causing you to shiver slightly. You were feeling the need, the want. Your pussy was throbbing and begging to be filled. Miguel was the first person who actually made you cum. You gasped, forcing a smile as you saw him position his dick right against your folds.

He was fucking big! You spread your legs, teasing your entrance for him. This was just part of the job. Miguel grunted as he grabbed your legs, placing them over his shoulders. He bit against your inner thigh before pushing his dick inside you. You whimpered, arching your back as you pretended to be fine.

Miguel's dick was stretching you out. This was a first. His dick felt hot and strong. Once he was fully inside you, Miguel pinched your clit, causing you to moan and whine. He smirked, pounding the life out of your pussy, breaking you down even more.

"So fucking tight. You don't get much exercise here, do you?" He mocked.

You moaned in response, focusing a little too much on how good this felt. His dick beating against your pussy with each rough and wet slap of his hips. His tip kissing your cervix each time, threatening to remind you that this was his moment. You were his fuck toy. You whined, your eyes nearly rolling back as Miguel rubbed your clit again.

"You're going to have to come back. I'm going to have to remind this pussy that it owes me payment." Miguel grunted as he went faster.

You felt your growing orgasm once more. Miguel held your body down against the bed, pressing his dick further inside you. Your mouth formed an 'o' as you started to see stars. Whimpers and moans were all you were able to say as you cam hard against his dick. Even after a second orgasm, you still could not believe that this was happening.

"That's a good fucking sign. My little slut is finally relaxing," Miguel spat as he griped your hips tightly, cumming inside you.

Your body trembled as you felt his hot, sticky load fill you. With a pop, Miguel pulled out, leaving your pussy a mess. A mixture of your juices and his cum pouring out of your abused hole.

"Cut! Good job (Y/N), Miguel! I think that's going to be a killer!" You managed yelled out.

"Are you okay?" Miguel asked as he helped you up. You panted softly, regaining your composure,

"Y-Yeah,"

"I didn't go overboard, did I? You're not hurt?" He kept asking, giving you a towel to wrap yourself with.

"You did amazing. I'm the opposite of hurt," You told him as the two of you walked towards the showers, "In fact, you did something none of my other coworkers could do."

"I did?"

"Yes, and I would love to be your partner for ongoing shoots. If not, then...maybe we can meet outside of work?" You whispered the last part to him, feeling slightly embarrassed. Miguel just smiled,

"I would love that."

You watched Miguel enter the shower first, wondering to which part he agreed to. Unsure, you followed him into the shower, still daydreaming about his dick.

You found out afterwards that Miguel agreed to both.

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I hope you liked it!!! Not really sure how porn videos actually work, haha