#usually for these they almost never have microphones

[mey-rin-is-fabulous]

Fing Mamoru man

My thought process no that’s not him. Sota: Mamo chan me: No way that’s him is it? *checks enterstage article* It’s him

[bpmiranda]

If you’re willing to take requests for Hugh, could I request something where he’s a teacher/dbf/anything authoritative and gets jealous over the reader (younger but legal age obvi) going on a date with someone else and fucks her to prove her inner thoughts that older men do it better 😚 (no daddy kink though, maybe sir)

Better With Age (Hugh Jackman) nsfw

A/N: purely fictional, age gap, 18+ f!reader, actress!reader, jealous!hugh, dressing room sex

The flashing lights of the cameras never fail to blind you. It’s not something you have quite yet gotten used to, but fortunately for you, your mentor is always by your side to guide you through those moments when you find yourself dazed from the lights. “Right here, sweetheart,” Hugh’s voice calls you, you feel his arm around your waist as he moves you to the other side of him, blocking you from the flash of the cameras so you might regain the clarity of your vision for a moment. “Y’alright?” He asks into your ear and you nod, looking up into his green eyes and smiling.

“Thank you.” You laugh lightly, linking your arm through his as he leads you through to the next portion of the premiere, the portion you’re much better at than posing and trying to look poise - interviews.

“Hugh!” One of the reporters calls him and he brings you over with him. “Hi, how are you both doing tonight?” She asks with a big grin, glancing at her notepad briefly as she juts out the microphone between the two of you.

“I’m great!” “Doing great!” You both answer.

“How do you feel about this movie? How is it different from past romantic comedies you’ve done?” She asks him.

“Great question!” Hugh smiles, making the reporter blush. “I feel really good about the writing and the craft. It’s a delightfully beautiful love story wrapped in a thin layer of humor. It doesn’t completely lean on the comedy aspect to oversell the plot, and it’s got an excellent cast.”

Her eyes move to you and you feel anxious. “And this is your first debut in a big movie, correct?” She asks and you nod.

“Yes, I’m very blessed to have been able to land a role where I am allowed to be more myself than would be usual. It’s a tricky thing to tap into a different character, but Hugh’s basically been mentoring me from the beginning so it was very easy to play his daughter.”

Hugh tries not to let it show that it bothers him that you basically think of him as a father figure, and he chuckles lightly, patting your hand before placing a light kiss on it. “That’s very sweet. Do you feel the same, Hugh?” The reporter asks, moving the microphone to him.

“In a sense, yes, she’s a very talented young lady and she’s got great rapport with the rest of the cast. I do care very much for her, I suppose like a daughter, and I’m so proud to be here with her tonight.” Hugh said with a smile that made you turn away shyly.

“Thank you guys very much, have a great night!” The lady says and you two move along, answering similar questions, smiling and sharing laughs until you get into the theater.

Hugh escorts you to your seats where you are sat between him and the young actor who plays your love interest in the film. You greet him with a tight hug and he compliments your appearance, eyeing you up and down which makes you feel incredibly nervous. Hugh noticed and sucks his teeth subtly as he watches the young man’s hand linger a little too long on your waist. When you and he part, Hugh shakes his hand firmly as you are taking your seat between them.

“Is it always that exhausting?” You ask Hugh in reference to the carpet walk as you’re fixing the skirt of your dress so you can sit comfortably. Hugh chuckles as he lifts the armrest between the two of you so you might be more comfortable, he casually drapes an arm around the back of your seat.

“Yes.” He says with that grin that makes you flustered and you bite your lip to hide your smile as you turn away from him. “You did great though, sweetheart.” He says quietly into your ear. You look back at him, your noses almost touch as you smile kindly. “You’ve always been a quick learner.”

“Thank you.” You whisper, glancing at his lips as he inhales the scent of your perfume.

“My pleasure.” He murmurs.

You can’t focus on the movie. You keep glancing at each other, smiling and sharing bashful looks, while he moves closer to you. His arm falls from the chair to drape over your shoulders and you find yourself sitting against his side. You can feel his heartbeat, you can smell his cologne, it makes your mind fuzzy with desire.

Only when the theater lights come on and the audience is clapping for you do you realize how close you are to him and you’re quick to put on a smile, getting up and clapping as well. Hugh stands and smiles, clapping and gesturing at his cast mates sitting around him. “Shall we?” He asks, holding his arm out for you and you link your arm through it with a shy smile as he guides you out.

“How do you feel? Was it what you were expecting?” He asks as he waits with at the valet booth for his driver. His hand is still on your waist and you feel extremely aware of the paparazzi and onlookers.

“I feel good.” You say, moving to stand in front of him so his hand falls off your waist. Hugh looks down at you curiously and you shake your head with a small smile. “What’re you doing?” You ask quietly.

Hugh chuckles, running a hand through his hair carefully as he looks to see how close his driver is to him. “Do you really see me as a father figure?” He asked suddenly and you tilt your head to the side. “I guess I just felt we had developed something different.”

“Oh,” Your heart felt as if it were going to leap out of your chest as you heard what you had dreamed of hearing for months on end now. “Hugh, I-I never thought you would look at me that way. I’m younger than you, I just assumed you wouldn’t be interested.”

“How could I not be?” He asked incredulously as he lightly stoked your cheek with his knuckles. “I mean, look at you.”

Your cheeks feel warm as he is staring intently down at you, inching closer and closer until his driver appears behind you. “Ready when you are, Mr. Jackman.” Hugh pulls back and smiles appreciatively at his driver before he looks down at you.

“Want a ride?” He asks you and you hate that you have to say no. “Oh?”

“It’s just that the girls invited me for a drink tonight and we were going to take a car together.” On cue, your co-actresses are exiting the theater with their dates and one of them waves you over. “Can we talk tomorrow at the studio wrap up?” You ask him and he nods, kissing your knuckles before he lets go of your hand. “Goodnight, Hugh.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

The next morning, you’re incredibly embarrassed as the online tabloids are filled with pictures of you quite snug and intimate to the actor that played your love interest in the movie. You had one too many drinks and found yourself giving in to his compliments and his soft touches. There was no doubt in your mind Hugh had seen them when you arrived on set for behind the scene cast pictures and he was avoiding you.

Regardless, you knew you had to explain yourself and met up with him in his trailer. You knocked softly, nervously, and then the trailer door opened. Hugh was standing above you, shirtless in just his jeans and he smiled kindly at you. “C’mon on in, Y/N.”

His trailer smelled just like him. It made you dizzy with want, he always smelled so good. Each time you hugged or shared a scene together, his musk was all you could find yourself focusing on. “I feel like I owe you an explanation.” You said as he closed the door behind him.

“Not at all,” Hugh said with a light chuckle. “You and what’s-his-name clearly have a lot of chemistry. It was bound to happen.” You couldn’t help the small giggle that left your lips at him purposefully choosing not to say his name and he smiles. Hugh closes in on you slowly, giving you every chance to stop him as he invades your personal space. “You ever been with an older man?”

Your cheeks warm up from embarrassment and you shake your head gently, looking down at your converse shyly. “No, but I’ve always wondered.”

Hugh approached you slowly, pinning you between him and the vanity behind you, his large hands came up to your waist and you inhaled shakily as his nose brushed against your ear. “Wondered what, darlin’?” He asked in a whisper, his hands sliding up your blouse tentatively as you trembled.

“Always wondered how it might compare.” You murmured, letting your head tilt to the side as his lips pressed to your neck.

“I think I’ve got one more thing to teach you before we wrap up today then.” He said as he undid your jean skirt and pushed it down your hips, you stepped out of it with your sneakers still on, uncaring of how desperate you might seem. His lips connected to yours as you clasped your hands to his neck, humming contently into the kiss as he squeezed your ass. A soft moan left your mouth as he firmly grabbed your thighs and sat you on the vanity, pushing his crotch into you as you made out.

His fingers pushed your panties aside and he gently stroked your slit with the pads of two fingers, smirking against your lips as you whined quietly. “Hugh,” You moaned, gasping softly as he pushed those two fingers into your tight pussy. “Oh! Yes!”

“You’re so tight,” He groaned, feeling your walls squeeze his fingers as they contracted around him. “Think you can handle this, sweetheart?” He asked he undid his belt buckle one handed, his lips on your jaw as he took one of your hands and placed into his jeans. You wrapped your fingers around his thick, hard length and moaned at the feeling of him so heavy in your palm.

“I want to try.” You said before you bit his lip teasingly and he groaned, pulling his fingers out of you and licking them off which made you whine.

“That’s my girl.” He praised as he pushed your underwear aside and aligned the head of his cock to your entrance. You held tightly onto his shoulders as he pinned you down to the vanity by your hips and he entered you slowly, grunting as he realized you were going to be a much tighter fit than anticipated.

“Oh, fuck!” You gasped, an arm of yours wrapping around his shoulder and your hand pressing into his chest as he only pumped the tip in and out in an attempt to get you to relax for him.

Hugh restrained himself the best he could, groaning as you drenched him in your arousal, making it easier for him glide into you until you were stuffed by him. His cock throbbed inside you, your walls pulsed around him, your mouths meshed in a sloppy kiss while you held onto each other. “Tell me to stop if you must.” He says before he begins pumping out of you quickly and deeply, making your eyes well with tears from the sting of the stretch.

It was a feeling unlike any other. Hugh occupied every centimeter of you, stretched you out to fit around the entirety of his cock. Your arm around his shoulder tightened, anchoring you to him as you lightly punched his chest from the intense build up of pleasure forming in your lower belly. “Oh, Hugh! Yes, I’m-uh-fuck-so-so close!” You stammered as your head rolled back and Hugh took the opportunity to kiss your neck, suck light hickeys into your skin which only served to overstimulate you. “Yes, fuck!” Your legs shook violently as you came, your walls contracting around him as you cried out against his shoulder.

“That’s it, darlin’,” Hugh grunted, his hands holding you by your waist now as he fucked roughly into you, chasing his own high now that you had found yours. “Your pussy feels so nice and warm ‘round me.” He groaned, holding you close to him with one arm as his other hand pushed against the mirror behind you. And then you felt it, the burst of his load spurting into you all warm and thick, the feeling was filthy and you felt so messy as you were aware of your mixed fluids sticking to your thighs. “Fuck!” Hugh growled into the crook of your neck, breathing heavily as he milked himself in you. Your hands rubbed his spasming back muscles lovingly and you kissed his jaw, whimpering as he picked you up, still on his cock, and sat down on the couch with you on his lap.

Hugh kissed you, sighed against your mouth as you sunk further onto him with a faint squelch. “Mm, it was better than I imagined.” You whispered, biting his bottom lip and tugging gently on it which made him chuckle, his cock pulsed inside you.

“One of the many things that just get better with age.” He winked at you, lightly spanking your ass as he adjusted you so your thighs were supported on his forearms. “I can’t possibly get enough of you in the span of this afternoon. I’m gonna have to keep you under my wing, sweetheart.”

My first Hugh Jackman writing! Let me know what you thought:)

🏷️: @dontfeedthebigbadwolf @peterparkernotfound @httpsells @evasmlp @ayatotiddies @thatlittlered @seasonofthenerd @littlemisscantloveyouback @scorpiosaintt @simpingfor-wakasa @spencerswh0r3 @thatweirdtheaternerd12

[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.”

[babyleostuff]

── GOING (CRAZY) SEVENTEEN

SYNOPSIS: chan can't help but fall for their new director, no matter how many clauses in the contract prohibit him from doing so

🎵 CLOSE TO YOU - gracie abrams

𝜗𝜚 THEME: fluff, strangers to lovers / idiots to lovers, a whole lot of pining, svt being menaces, attempt at humour 𝜗𝜚 PAIRING: idol!chan x fem!gose director!reader 𝜗𝜚 WORD COUNT: 4.5k

“you’re going to be the youngest director they’ve ever had.” 

well, that was one way to make you even more nervous. 

you didn’t have to think twice when pledis offered you the job of being a gose director two months ago. of course, you were grateful for all the jobs you’ve managed to get over the past years; they were the ones that helped you kick-start your career and established your name as a pretty well-known director after all, but this - this could be your big break. working for a company as big as pledis, well technically hybe, was a dream come true, and it would look great on your CV.

though you wouldn’t lie - you were scared shitless to meet seventeen. 

they were a big, big group, and if they were as chaotic and loud in real life as they were on camera, then you weren’t sure how you’d survive the next few months. 

especially not with your crush on one of them.

“did you hear we’re getting a new director?” some of the boys raised their heads from where they were laying on the grass, while the rest ignored seungcheol as usual. “she’s going to be here today,” he continued, and flicked hoshi’s forehead to get his attention, “so please be nice, and try to act somewhat normal.”

the boys mumbled something in unison, too tired to talk. as much as they loved shooting gose, doing it after a full day of schedules was a nightmare. they’d much rather be in their beds than laying on the fake grass in a warehouse because it was too late to shoot outside.

“why the hell did they pick a sports concept for today?” seungkwan mumbled with his cheek pressed to the ground. “couldn’t they do like a,” he sighed, “sleeping concept.”

“yeah,” hoshi agreed, his voice just as drowsy as seungkwan’s. “carats would eat that up.”

wonwoo rolled his eyes, and turned his head towards chan so the boys wouldn’t hear him, though they probably wouldn’t have either way considering they were seconds from falling asleep. “if they’ll keep on whining like that i’m literally going to walk out of here,” he groaned, and rubbed his face to wake himself up a bit.

chan couldn’t agree more. he was tired, and hungry, and he was starting to get cold, the loose sleeveless shirt doing nothing to keep him warm, and all he could think about was bed bed bed, so hoshi’s and seungkwan’s whining did not help a single bit.

fifteen minutes later, with half of them asleep, and the rest barely awake, the filming crew started to gather up to set up all of the cameras and microphones, with the rest of the staff placing different props they’d be using all over the warehouse.

chan could feel his eyes drooping for the tenth time in the past few minutes, when he suddenly heard a quiet “uh-oh” over his head. before he could ask a simple „what?”, a sharp pain pierced through his shoulder. 

“i’m so, so sorry. i really didn’t mean to.” 

he exhaled sharply, and put his hand over the small red patch on his skin, that was pulsating from the hit. well, at least he was more awake now. “no worries, my shoulder has been through much worse than getting hit by a… um,” he looked around himself to check what exactly almost crushed his bones, “a medicine ball,” chan let out a strangled laugh. no wonder it felt like a dumbbell fell on his shoulder.  

but then he looked up, and the person standing in front him left him utterly speechless. 

chan wasn’t sure if had fallen asleep or if he was being delusional because of the sleep deprivation, but the girl had to be an angel. in the twenty five years of his life, he had never seen anyone as gorgeous as her, and he was not being dramatic. 

“are you okay?” you asked, and crouched in front of the boy you just managed to almost injure. you said you’d be able to carry all of the medicine balls yourself - clearly that wasn’t true at all.

wait a second… the eyes. the hair. the gorgeously sculpted biceps. you knew him, it was…  no it couldn’t. 

and yet, you found yourself crouching in front of the one and only lee chan. 

you didn’t consider yourself a big fangirl, but you were (obviously) aware of who he was. for some reason whenever you stumbled upon any content of seventeen your eyes were instantly drawn to the short dancer, that despite the lack of height stood out to you the most. and you weren’t going to lie - he was hot as fuck, and he looked so good while danicing that it was almost impossible for you to tear your eyes from him.

and now you almost killed him.

“i’m really, really sorry,” why wasn’t he responding? maybe the ball hit his head after all? what if he was pissed, and they would fire you? “please, say something.”

chan, on the other hand, was completely gone. “god, i must be looking so pathetic right now,” he thought. his band met tens of people on a daily basis - from stylists, interviewers, photographers, makeup artists, stage assistants - whoever you could think of, chan has already met them.

everyone but you.

“um, i’m um,” pull yourself together chan,” i’m cool.”

“i'm cool”?! he wanted to take the medicine ball that just hit his shoulder, and bang his head against it instead, because that had to be the lamest response he could have ever thought of. it wasn’t like the prettiest girl was right in front of him, nope.

“are you sure? do you need me to get someone to check the shoulder for you?”

and now you thought he was being a wuss? oh god, he really screwed up.

“no, no,” chan said quickly, and sat up a bit more straight to look like he had his shit together, when he clearly was not. “i’m fine, really, don’t worry.”

you nodded, though you weren’t sure if you could trust him. his shoulder was still slightly red, but thankfully it didn’t seem like anything was broken. injuring one of the boys would be like the worst way to start your new job. 

„okay, so um,” you pointed in the direction of the cameras, “i have to go.” 

“go?” the words slipped out of chan’s mouth. “loser, loser, loser.”  

“work,” you whispered, your throat suddenly dry. why was the air so stuffy, it was quite perfect just a minute ago. 

„uh, yes, of course,” chan said, matching your breathless tone. 

you took a last, long look at him, and got up to pick up the ball that fell out of your arms.

time to get professional again.

“i’d like you to meet the new director. as you probably know, she is going to be in charge of today’s episode.” 

this had to be the most awkward situation of your life. standing in the middle of a circle of people you barely knew was not an ideal situation, definitely not when it looked like you were about to be sacrificed in a weird kpop idol ritual. also the seventeen boys looked like they’d rather be anywhere else than there, so that in itself made you want to run out of the building. you didn’t know what to do with your hands, or where to look, or if you should say something, and if you should - then what? “what’s up?” “how is everyone doing?” “can you stop staring or i’ll pass out?” 

you figured it couldn’t get any worse than that, if it was officially your humiliation day - then so be it. “hel-,” 

“because we don’t have much time today, let’s just start right away.” 

well, there went your speech. 

you had to be looking like the biggest loser, standing there with a half-opened mouth, and an awkwardly raised hand.

as everyone started to take their places, with the boys gathering in the middle in front of the main camera, your eyes wandered on their own to find the only person that made you feel somewhat comfortable amongst the chaos, which was kind of ironic since you hit him with a ball and exchanged a total of three sentences. unfortunately, you quickly had to push away your thoughts about the boy with dark hair and kind eyes and focus on your work. 

you were sure everyone could hear your heart pounding, as you yelled your first, official “action.”

“dude, why do you keep staring at her like that?” vernon nudged chan’s arm. “you know you look like a total creep, right?” he asked with an amused expression. 

“i’m not staring,” chan said way too quickly for it to be true. his parents were right - he was a terrible liar. 

“uh-hu, sure,” vernon snickered, and shook his head. “then tell me why you’re suddenly so interested in the cameras that you keep gawking that way.” 

chan felt like crying. he was sure he wasn't staring at you that much. right? “i think seungkwan needs a hug, so could you leave me alone?” no one needed to know about his little infatuation with a girl he had just met, and though technically vernon wasn’t the one to walk around spilling people’s secrets, it was still embarrassing. 

“whatever you say,” vernon said, and got back to typing away on his phone. 

the truth was - chan couldn’t keep his eyes away from you. sure, at first the main reason why he paid attention to you was because of how pretty you were, but when the shoot actually started, and you fell into your element - he just couldn’t get over how attractive you looked behind the camera. your face was more often than not covered by the multiple screens from which you monitored the shooting, but from whatever glimpses he could catch - you looked absolutely mesmerising. 

and now he wasn’t talking about your looks, but about your attitude, and confidence, and how you carried yourself. 

“okay, let’s shoot the last scene, and we’re done,” you said, pointing the cameramen to where they should stand to get the perfect shots. 

and again, for what felt like the hundredth time that night, the boys positioned themselves in front of the main camera, with mingyu explaining the rules of the last game. 

“but the twist is, we’re going to have our eyes blindfolded, so we won’t be able to see the football or our opponents,” he said, showing the ball and thirteen blindfolds he was holding in his hand. “we won’t be able to see our teammates either, for that matter,” he added, earning a couple of laughs from the boys. 

after a quick game that you didn’t understand the rules of, they divided themselves into three teams, and started the game. 

for once, everything seemed to go on smoothly, and you figured that nothing would happen if you stepped out from behind the cameras for a moment, and stood aside with the rest of the staff to watch the guys play (or rather fall or bump into each other).

however, there was one thing you didn't see coming. 

somehow, by pure accident, chan managed to get the ball. "guys i have it!" he shouted, and immediately started running in the direction of the goal. or so he thought. 

you couldn't help but laugh quietly. the boy looked so adorably clumsy, kicking that ball like a child who had just learned to walk, and waving his arms as if it would help him with something.

chan, however, overestimated his ability to determine exactly where the goal was, because the moment he kicked the ball to score, everyone suddenly started shouting "stop". 

but it was too late.

he quickly took off the blindfold, and his heart sank when he saw what, or more precisely who, he shot the ball at. “shit,” chan didn't wait for his eyes to adjust to the light, but quickly ran towards you.

“i’m so, so sorry,” he said, looking at your face twisted in pain. “i didn’t mean to, i’m-” 

“i think i heard something similar today,” you laughed, and pressed your hand tighter against the spot where the ball managed to hit you. “it’s not as bad as it looks,” you added, seeing chan’s worried expression. 

“not that bad? i hit you right in the forehead!” 

“no need to make me feel even worse about this,” you sighed, sending him an apologetic look. “i think i’ll grow a second head from this hit.” 

chan groaned, and hid his face in his hands. “i’m a fucking idiot.” 

he hadn’t been on that many dates in his life, but he had never acted… like whatever that was. “i really didn’t mean t-,” but then a thought hit him, “oh my god, what if you have a concussion? or if i damaged something inside your head, or-,” 

“chan, i promise, the inside of my head is fine.” 

chan. oh, the way you said his name. he's never been more grateful for someone to call him by his real name rather than his stage name.

“are you sure?” he asked, worry filling his voice. 

“positive.”

“but please, if, god forbid, your head starts aching, go to the hospital, okay?” 

“i will,” you nodded, gently pulling your hand away from your forehead. chan could see a bruise starting to form, and he swore he had never felt that bad in his whole life. “you can say we’re even now,” you added with a small smile. 

now that he was sure you were relatively okay, he finally breathed a sigh of relief and looked around him to gather his messy thoughts, and that's when he noticed everyone, every single person, looking at the both of you. because of this whole mishap, chan forgot that you were literally surrounded by dozens of people who were now watching you like you were in a shitty sitcom. only the boys' looks were too amused for his taste, and now he was sure that they figured out his little crush that he had on you. 

“good job, brother,” mingyu snickered, when chan went back to the boys. “good job.”

“wake up on monday.” → “go for the shoot.” → “cry because i can’t have her.” → “go home.” → “cry even more.” “repeat.” 

that’s how the past couple months looked for chan. every single week he waited for the day when he could finally get on set and see you again. it was honestly heartbreaking how the only thing he was allowed to do was to greet you with a shy “good morning”, and bid you “goodbye”, but if he did anything else it could look suspicious to others, which he could not risk. still, those moments were the best part of his week. 

when the third month had passed since you came into his life, chan began to regret having met you in the first place. what was the point if he couldn't even ask you out for coffee? you were everything he was missing in his life - and he didn't even know you that well. chan couldn't count how many times he spent his time off stalking your social media to find out more about you, to get to know you better, because he couldn't do it any other way. and each time he felt his feelings turn into something more than just a small, innocent crush.

“you look so miserable right now, it’s almost pathetic,” seungkwan said, eyeing chan from head to toe. “can’t you just like go and talk to her? that would put us out of the misery of seeing you look like a kicked puppy.”

“you know i can’t just do that” chan sighed, looking at you with longing in his eyes. 

“why not?”

“because of our contract? we can’t get close with our staff, you know that,” he said, each word piercing his chest. knowing that you were so close, yet so out of reach was really hard. 

“and you’re going to let that stop you?” seungkwan deadpanned. “seriously. you like her. she obviously likes you,” wait, she did? “so please, just talk to her.” 

obviously he didn’t approach you that day. if, with a big emphasis on if, he finally decided to talk to you, he had to be ready so he wouldn’t look like an idiot like last time. though you probably already thought he was a creep (he liked one of your instagram posts from a couple of years ago by accident), so it couldn’t really get any worse than that. 

but seungkwan said you liked him too, right? 

“ugh, why does it have to be so complicated?” 

“chan,” suddenly he felt a featherlight touch of a hand on his shoulder. wow, no one has ever touched him with such gentleness, “could you stand over there?” 

“huh?” he turned around, just to come face-to-face with the person that made herself at home in his thoughts, and would not leave, no matter how hard he tried pushing her away. chan cleared his throat quickly and straightened his shirt. “where do you want me to stand?” good job, that was smooth. 

you pointed to the marker on the floor next to jun. “just for the beginning, then you can obviously, um,” the way he always left you speechless was starting to piss you off. he always knew what to say, and here you were - as awkward as ever. “you can move around later.”

“what should i say now?” chan thought, his brain panicking. this was his chance to finally say something, but as usual he couldn’t come up with anything that wouldn’t make him look stupid. “why is she always so well-spoken?” 

in the end chan just lowered his head and waddled over to the marker where he was supposed to stand, giving up at making a move. once again. 

two hours later went by, and you couldn’t shake off the feeling that something was off with chan. he didn’t joke, he didn’t smile, he didn’t laugh even once, and he didn’t really engage in the discussions with the boys. he was just… there. it was eating you alive that you couldn’t do anything. without his spark he looked so tired, like he hadn’t slept for days, and if it was up to you you’d halt the whole thing, and take chan far away from here because seeing him like this was unbearable. key word - if. 

“let’s take a break, guys!” you said, hoping that no one would question why, but you had to get chan out of there, at least for a minute. “uh, chan?” please, just don’t fire me for this. “could you come over here for a second. i, uh,” you should’ve come up with an excuse before you opened your mouth, “i need to fix your mic.” 

“is something wrong with his mic?” one of the staff chimed in, looking between you and the boy. “i can get it fixed.” 

“no!” you said in unison with chan. you bit your lip to hide the smile that was threatening to bloom on your face, and stole a quick glance at him, taking in the blush dusting his cheeks and neck. 

you cleared your throat, and tried to put on your most indifferent expression - you couldn’t blow your cover now. “no, it’s okay, i’ll do it,” okay, okay, we’re almost there, “but can we go outside for a second, i need some fresh air.” 

chan nodded quickly - way too quickly, and followed you through the set towards the door. 

“don’t stay out for too long, lover boy!” seungkwan yelled, and a couple of boys couldn’t help but burst out laughing. you even saw mingyu falling over seokmin’s lap in silent giggles, his whole body shaking. 

if chan was a blushing mess before, he had to be looking like a tomato, now. “i will kill them,” he promised himself. 

“i’m sorry for them,” he said once you made it outside. it struck chan that it was the first time in months that you were finally alone - not a single soul was breathing down his neck, and no stupid bandmates waited for the opportunity to make fun of him. “they are idiots sometimes,” he said, rubbing his arm nervously. 

“it’s okay,” you mumbled, suddenly very self-conscious. maybe you should’ve just stayed inside? what were you thinking? god, this had to be the epitome of your stupidity. “i guess that’s just their love language,” breath girl, breath, “like bullying, you know?” 

“tell me about it,” he snickered, and shook his head. why were his hands shaking so much? “so um, what about the mic?” 

“the mic?” 

“yeah, the mic,” he laughed softly, pointing at the small device. 

“oh, yeah. the mic.” 

it was now or never. 

“look, everything is fine with the mic i just…,” this was so so stupid. “i just wanted to…,” spit. it. out. “you know what, nevermind.” 

you officially hit rock bottom. now chan would not only think you’re lame but stupid, and a creep, because who drags someone out of a building to “fix” their mic just to tell them that the issue never existed in the first place. plus you couldn’t even get a proper sentence out. 

what you didn't know was that chan's heart was beating like crazy. he'd never seen you so nervous, but god - you looked so cute. the way your eyes shyly met his, how your cheeks were adorned by a faint blush, and how you constantly tucked your hair behind your ear even when there was nothing to tuck anymore. 

so seungkwan was right after all - you liked him as well. 

he had to do it. he had to do it now or he would never do it and he would never forgive himself for it for the rest of his life. maybe all he needed to finally confess his feelings to you was the knowledge that you also treated him as more than just someone from work?

“wait,” chan said, and grabbed your wrist as you took a step towards the door, “i need to tell you something,” he loosened his grip, and lightly ran his thumb over your skin. he saw your eyes wander from your joined hands over to his face, and god - he could get lost in them for eternity. “maybe this will be the biggest mistake of my life but i have to tell you this. i understand if you don't feel the same way as me, but," inhale, "i like you. i really, really like you,” he said and laughed because shit - he finally did it, after so many months. 

for a few seconds, there was a deathly silence between you, interrupted only by the sounds from the set, and chan felt as if time had stood still. sure, he was prepared for the possibility that you didn't feel the same way as him, but please please please. he wasn't sure how he would cope if you rejected him.

“i-i,” you stuttered. was this really happening? or was this all just a cruel dream? but the feel of his skin on yours, his gentle hold, the smell of his cologne, his hair blowing in the wind - it all felt so real. “is this some kind of joke?” you managed to mutter.

the corners of the chan's mouth turned down. "a joke? baby, i've never been more serious about anything as i am now," your breath caught in your throat hearing the pet name coming from him, but it seemed like chan didn't even realise he said it.

"do you have any idea how many nights i spent thinking about you? about what makes you laugh, and what makes you cry? i tried to figure out what your favourite food could be, so i could ask you out and take you to the best restaurant. if you prefer sunrises or sunsets, or if you pour the milk or cereal first, and what are your biggest icks and pet peeves. if this is your definition of a joke, then yes, i’m joking."

at this point chan was ranting, but he didn’t care. he needed you to understand how bad down he was for you, and if he had to make the biggest idiot of himself - then so be it. 

“and if this is all a dream then i hope i’ll never wake up, because i can’t imagine my world without you in it,” he said. 

“are you always this dramatic, lee chan?” you mumbled, looking at him with big eyes. so this was real, after all. the boy you spent the last months pining over was just as crazy about you as you were about him. 

chan breathed a sigh of relief, and shook his head. “when it comes to you? yes. i’ll be as dramatic as i have for you to understand how i feel about you.” 

you blinked, still in denial. “what about the contracts?” you asked, and reached out to push back a couple of loose strands of hair from his forehead. 

chan could feel his heart bursting as you slid your hand down from his forehead to cup his cheek, and he immediately nuzzled closer to your touch.“i don’t know, and i don’t care,” he twisted his head to place a gentle peck on your palm, “i don’t want to spend another second on thinking about what it’d feel like to be next to you.” 

one year later…  

“i still can’t believe you made bets on my relationship,” chan groaned, as he plopped beside you on the couch, but before he could make himself comfortable you were already snuggled into his side with an arm draped over his middle. 

“it was the only way for us to have some fun. you both looked so lovesick it was honestly disgusting,” seungkwan pretended to gag, which earned him a kick in his shin from your boyfriend, and a couple of laughs from the rest of the boys.  

“still, you guys are stupid.” 

“not more than you moping around for months,” wonwoo sighed. “talking about a slow burn,” mingyu added. 

“well at least i’ve got a girlfriend,” chan kissed your temple, and cuddled you closer, “and the closest thing to a relationship you have is with your dumbbell.” 

mingyu put his hand over his heart. “ouch,” he said, and wiped a non-existent tear from his cheek. 

it's been a whole year and the guys still loved to joke around about your slow burn of a relationship, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. each day with chan was a blessing, even the boys became such a big part of your life to the point where you couldn’t imagine it without the whole thirteen of them. 

lee chan was like a last missing puzzle piece that you were searching for to become whole. he was your best friend, your rock, your safe place that you’d search for in every crowd. 

“i love you,” you muttered into his neck quietly, so only he could hear. chan’s grip tightened around you for a second. “i love you too. so much.”

taglist (if you want to be added, check my masterlist): @jeonghansshitester @weird-bookworm @sea-moon-star @hanniehaee @wonwooz1 @byprettymar @edgaralienpoe @staranghae @itza-meee @eightlightstar @immabecreepin @whatsgyud @hyneyedfiz @honestlydopetree @vicehectic @dkswife @uniq-tastic @marisblogg @aaniag @daegutowns @carlesscat-thinklogic23 @embrace-themagic @ohmyhuenings @nidda13 @hrts4hanniehae @k-drama-adict @isabellah29 @f4iryjjosh @bangantokchy @mrswonwooo @bangtancultsposts @lllucere @athanasiasakura @onlyyjeonghan @haecien @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts @hannahhbahng @valgracia @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @mirxzii @hhusbuds @wonranghaeee @rosiesauriostuff @gyuguys @tomodachiii @veryfabday @lilmochiandsuga @asasilentreader @mrsnervous @bewoyewo @sharonxdevi @wondipity @gyuguys @raginghellfire @treehouse-mouse @waldau @wonootnoot @hellodefthings @dokyeomkyeom @sourkimchi @bbysnw @hoichi02 @aaa-sia @haneulparadx @minvrsev @zozojella @wonootnoot @kimingyuslover @wntrei @honglynights @jihoonsbbygirl@uhdrienne @bloodcanbehot@iamawkwardandshy@icyminghao@heeseungthel0ml@goyangiiwonu@bath1lda@ruurooozz@ny0sang@luuxian

[cosmosis]

MOVED TO @seratopia

miguel o’hara x reader (fluff) - can’t sleep

you just can’t sleep without your husband next to you (i hope my spanish was okay)

Maybe it’s your cycle, maybe its just the fact that you’ve been literally working all day for the past 3 weeks, but you’re tired as shit. The bags under your eyes are almost purple, your entire body hunches over like a zombie when you walk, you barely have time to think nor speak to anyone else besides your husband. The entire building is lowkey worried you’ll snap one day. 

Even Miguel is worried. Much how you like to do to him, Miguel’s been constantly ushering you to rest a little, borderline bribing you with nice takeout or some kisses to get you to sleep. But, to no avail. your sleep schedule is genuinely fucked. 

You’re cranky, hungry, and sleep deprived. 

At the moment, Miguel doesn’t really know where you are. Considering your current state, he thinks you’re out on a mission, or at least somewhere in the office. 

He’s already tried walking through the entire office just looking for you. He checked the cafeteria, gym, hallway, etc. muttering, “Where th’fuck are they?” But, you were nowhere to be found.

So, Miguel tries something different. He pulls up his watch, scrolling down to a button that he really only should be using for emergencies, but to Miguel, this is an emergency on its’ own. 

He presses the button, and suddenly his entire face is broadcasted to every single watch in the building. Dramatically, the emergency siren turns on, and all the spider-people are on their feet. 

“If anyone sees my wife, please report back to me asap. Tell her to come see me, I can’t find her anywhere.“

The whole office can see Miguel rub a hand over his face, visibly both annoyed and tired. Everyone starts looking back and forth, tilting heads and making sure that you didn’t just happen to be around somewhere. Once the camera turns off, though, nearly the entire building starts chuckling. 

It’s crazy how much Miguel’s face utterly lights up when he sees his watch ringing without your contact photo. Literally in a split second, he presses the button, opening up a microphone icon. 

“Miguel?“

Ugh, he just loves the sound of your voice. 

“¿Si querida?“

He hears you groan, possibly the sound of bedsheets shuffling, and it pulls at his heart. You’ve been so miserable lately, he just wants to see you back to your happy self again. 

“Come home, now.“

Just the tone of your voice alone put a worried frown on Miguel’s face. (He never likes to admit how much of an impact your emotions have on him.) An ugly, anxious swarm starts to build at the back of his head, making him impossibly nervous. 

Luckily, Miguel knows what to do. 

“Of course, hun. I’ll be there in 10.“

And he turns the watch off, sighing to himself after. He’s a little bit nervous now, fearing as though he did something to upset you, or that you had something serious to talk about when he came home. 

Every step Miguel takes to your shared home brought him closer and closer on edge, worry and theory swirling through his mind. His brain ping-ponged through every single possible reason why you’d want him to come home, especially in such a cranky matter. Maybe you were just tired? Maybe it was because he accidentally gave you a raisin bagel instead of a everything bagel?

By the time Miguel was at the door, his heart was beating erratically in his chest, hands the slightest bit shaky. Stepping inside, Miguel instantly beelined for your shared bedroom, gently opening the door. 

He sees you shuffle around in the covers, his heart secretly swooning. You’re just so cute when you’re half asleep; needy and cuddlier than usual. Already at the bedroom door, Miguel practically rips his shirt off, kicking off his pants and making his way over to where you lay. He presses a soft kiss to your forehead, gingerly swiping strands of hair off your face. 

“What is it, hun?“ He coos.

You toss and turn, barely mustering a frown onto your face. Your eyes are half-lidded, tank top almost falling off your shoulder until Miguel readjusts it for you. 

“Can’t sleep without you.“ You mumble, slowly scooting yourself over and draping your arms towards him. Miguel practically swoons, cooing and leaning into your touch. How could he resist such an offer?

“Awh, baby.“ 

He tangles himself into bed with you, breathing the biggest sigh of relief. It wasn’t what he thought it was. You just wanted snuggles. Miguel takes it upon himself to spoil you extra, ghosting his touch over your back and kissing the darling skin of your temple.

Like the thousands of times he has before, Miguel tangles his legs into yours, kneading his fingers into the skin of your raised leg.  

Within a few minutes or so, Miguel feels you knock out like a light, tiny puffs of air escaping your mouth while you fist the sheets like a baby. He sighs, staring at you for a few moments while you sleep. Affectionately, he rubs his knuckles against your cheek, smooching your forehead. 

Miguel pulls a blanket over the both of you, knowing very well that by the time you’re awake, it’ll be completely on the floor. Readjusting his position, Miguel doses off to sleep, allowing himself to completely let go of all the stresses he holds. 

After all, he can’t sleep without you either. 

© 𝒄𝒐𝒔𝒎𝒐𝒔𝒊𝒔.

[whatswrongwithblue]

Alastor Headcannons

Fem cat demon reader in a relationship with the Radio Demon

SFW

Rosie introduced him to you. Maybe not necessarily with the idea that you two would be romantic, but she saw similarities between you two and knew you would eventually hit it off.

Once you stopped constantly arguing, that is.

The man had been an Overlord for so long and had sworn off attempting romance for an even longer period, that he genuinely did not recognize his feelings for you as romantic inclinations at first.

He knew he liked you. Admired you. And enjoyed your company. Could talk to you for hours about anything and everything. So obviously that meant he wanted to own your soul.

That blew up in his face – almost literally.

He quickly found out there was nothing he could offer you, or do to you, including putting you in harms way, to force you into making any kind of deal with him. He couldn’t make himself do a damn thing to you. And that scared him and made him avoid you for a long time after that.

But when you two did eventually reunite, it was a lightbulb moment for him, and he pretty much immediately started pursuing an actual relationship with you.

PDA isn’t really his thing, besides hand holding and possibly a hand on the small of your back if he’s feeling extra possessive or wanting to show you off.

The biggest exception to this rule is dancing. He loves to take you dancing.

Surprisingly, he really doesn’t mind others knowing you two are an item.

Some might think he’d want to hide it, worried that others would see you as a weakness to exploit but honestly? Who would dare go after something the Radio Demon held in such high regard. Let them try, my dear.

In private, if he’s in a good mood, he’s quite the sweety.

His love language is definitely acts of service and quality time.

He’ll want to start each day relaxing, enjoying coffee and breakfast with you. He cooks. And throughout the day he really enjoys just being the same room with you, even if you’re both absorbed in your own tasks.

In private, if he’s in a bad mood, he’s very distant.

Don’t touch him and try not to interrupt his work.

He’ll still unconsciously show his affection for you by letting his guard down in these moments.

He’ll let his mask slip a little, show you how upset he is when he would never let anyone else know what’s capable of actually getting under his skin.

He’ll be in some disheveled state. Have his jacket off, or bow tie undone, or hair tied back. He’ll have his microphone across the room. Little things to show he’s still comfortable being vulnerable with you but still . . . best not push it because then he’ll get a little mean.

If you’ve accidentally hurt his feelings in some way, then the insults will start. He’ll call you annoying or dramatic, but he won’t raise his voice unless you do first. He rarely swears so when he does, you know he’s completely at his wits end with you or with whatever else has upset him.

He would never ever lay a hand on you.

If he’s really pushed to the edge, his power might be harder to control. Lights may break, his shadow will go nuts on the wall around you, and he’ll even take on a more demonic, imposing form, but you’ll still feel completely safe in his presence.

Have I mentioned how rare these arguments are? There’s a reason why he’s comfortable enough to be in a relationship with you, because 99% of the time, you understand each other perfectly and can calm the other one down.

At the end of a “no touch day” he’ll usually come find you and initiate some type of cuddle. Usually once you’ve already gone to bed.

He’ll slip under the sheets behind you, probably still a little damp from a shower, and either be the big spoon or, if you’re awake, rest his head on your chest while you stroke his ears.

Those ears are mighty sensitive. Not in a sexual way, but it always sooths his exhausted nervous system when he allows you to touch them like that.

That, and your purrs. No lullaby in the world is as potent as the mesmerizing sensation of your purrs when his body is laid close against yours.  

It took him a few months to admit it, but after the first time he told you he loved you; he says it all the time. His mother always told him you couldn’t overuse that phrase if you meant it, so you tend to hear it multiple times a day.

He isn’t fluent in Louisiana Creole, but he knows a few phrases, and will slip into the native accent of his youth and whisper them in your ears when he’s trying to sooth you if you’re the one upset.

He took decades to propose. You never pestered him about it, but Rosie did – and that probably made him take even longer to get around to it than if she had just let it alone.

Neither of you were super into the idea of a big ceremony but then word got out and half of Cannibal Town was asking about Save the Dates so you two decided that while the vow exchange would be short and sweet, the reception would be a fucking party.

NSFW

Sex had not been a part of this man’s life for a very long time.

He’d only been in two brief relationships, once as a teen, and once later to appease his mother, and neither one exactly went well.

Even his rut, which makes most other demons sex-crazed, used to just make him more aggressive and territorial. The physical aspects of it were easy to take care of in private, so he never had to seek out other outlets.

But then you came along and while it still wasn’t as much of a priority for him as it was for you, he still found himself enjoying and even desiring that kind of intimacy with you.

For the first time in . . . well, ever . . . he found himself initiating sex with someone, rather than the other way around, and you found yourself pleasantly satisfied whenever he was in the mood.

Don’t get me wrong, he could still be - and was often - very touch adverse, especially after a difficult day.

But if he’s happy and relaxed and you’re around . . . you two are going to end up under the covers.

He used to hate his tail. He’d even cut it off more than once, but it always grew back. But you liked it and he liked anything that pleased you. And then you started touching it during intercourse and he really liked that.

If the guy has one cum button, it’s you stroking his tail while he’s inside you.

It also really helps that you are so comfortable with your tail and you constantly let him touch it.

He’s definitely a top. Sex is just not interesting to him unless he knows you’re getting off, so it’s either mutual pleasure or your pleasure, but he doesn’t care for anything that involves just his body.

You enjoy going down on him, and it’s okay for him, at least for starters, but he rarely lets you do it for very long. It’s just . . . boring, for him. He’ll compromise and 69 if you’re really in the mood for that kind of thing.

He gets very excited when you’re in heat.

It’s the only thing that can -almost- always override his touch aversion on a bad day.

The idea of you wanting him that much, to the point of it being a near constant physical need for him to be inside you, really gets him going.

He wears out faster than you do, but even after he can’t get it up anymore, he has a multitude of other appendages (fingers, tongue, tentacles) and even some toys that he thoroughly enjoys using on you until you are finally sated.

He’s not one for dirty talk. It makes him uncomfortable, and he finds it distracting. He stays pretty quiet himself during sex, but he loves the needy little moans and whines you make.

He does bite.

And slap your ass.

He’s not usually one for restraints or whips, but he does enjoy marking you with his teeth and claws. Again, this man wanted to own your soul, so he’s going to enjoy leaving physical reminders all over your body that you are his.

His rut is much harder to handle now that he’s sexually active.

And he’s very different in bed when he’s in a rut.

That’s when he dirty talks.

And that’s when he really gets rough.

You have on more than one occasion been face fucked to the point of choking and tears.

And those shadow tentacles really come out to play during that time of year.

They’ll be wrapped around your body, your neck, limbs, etc. They’ll fuck your mouth, your ass, any part of you that his cock isn’t in. He wants you completely controlled and filled up by him when he’s fucking you in his rut.

And he can go for a very long time. Multiple times. You learned after the first year to just plan on taking a vacation that time of year because really, other than eating and sleeping, he pretty much demands that’s all you two do.

He can sometimes lose control of his power and his bodily form during sex.

You’ll know when he’s close to climax because those antlers get massive and his eyes tend to go black. And if he’s in a rut, he can get a little  . . . big.

Like, all of him. His entire body. But also yes, his dick gets larger then, too.

One time, you were just about to say you were getting stretched a little too much down there, and his weight was starting to crush you, when he literally broke the bed. That’s all hot and steamy in romance novels, but you just about broke your tail that night and ended up nearly impaled by the bed frame.

Another time, he got his antlers stuck in the backboard of the bed and that was even more embarrassing for him than breaking the actual bed had been because it took him so long to calm down enough to control the size of those things and meanwhile you had just been pinned beneath him and laughing hysterically at the very horny, very frustrated, very stuck husband of yours.

He’s a self-inflicted insomniac and doesn’t let himself sleep much, so after sex, he tends to pass out next to you and when he finally wakes up, he usually insists you join him in the bath or shower for some aftercare.

He’ll help clean any wounds that haven’t already healed, massage your overworked muscles, and verbally check in with you that he didn’t take things too far. Especially since after a rough rut-induced session, he gets awfully insecure about the things he did to you in the heat of the moment.

Of course, you’re always happy to ensure him that you really enjoy that side of him and you’ve never felt like he’d taken anything too far with you.

(P.S. These are some ideas I worked through on what this ace-spectrum Overlord man would be like in a committed relationship for my new OC wife x Alastor fic. I’ve been working on it for weeks now and am just about ready to start posting. It’s been very difficult writing him truly in character while also navigating meeting my OC, coming to terms with his feelings for her, and how he would behave as a partner/husband. For this post - so that it can be its own standalone work - I’ve changed all the wording to Y/N, with the only specifics being that Y/N is a cat demon. But if you really enjoyed this, I hope you’ll stick around for The Fire in the Sin. It’s going to essentially be all of the above turned into a novel, that’s half prequel and half current events for Hazbin Hotel.)

[ikarakie]

steve's favourite thing to do is interchange the names in songs with people's he knows. usually just as a bit of fun, like singing "gimme, gimme, gimme ro-bin after midnight!" to make her laugh in the car when she's had a bad morning. or, "i wish that i was dustin's girl!" in a horrific impression of suzie that makes the kid body slam him in retaliation.

so one day, when him and eddie are hanging out in his kitchen, amicably flitting around each other as they make food, he can't help himself. the drums start up from the radio in the corner and a smile spreads across his face, because he thought of this one weeks ago and has been dying to use it.

he whirls around and points at eddie, who's looked up at the sudden movement, with the business end of a wooden spoon. "oh, eddie you're so fine! you're so fine, you blow my mind! hey, eddie!" he takes a step forward, relishing in how munson's jaw drops to the floor. "hey, eddie!"

he does a sort of half shuffle, half dance around to eddie's other side, where he continues, jumping up and down and shaking his head back and forth with the beat, "oh, eddie you're so fine, you're so fine, you blow my mind!" he gets up in eddie's space, to where they're practically nose to nose, "hey eddie!"

"oh my god, what is happening?" eddie asks, trying his hardest to suppress a grin. steve continues to dance and sing like an idiot, abandoning the spoon on the counter to grab both eddie's hands and pull his arms back and forth in an attempt to get him dancing too.

by the start of the first verse eddie is half-heartedly bouncing along, watching steve with wide eyes and flushed cheeks. he thinks he's fucking beautiful like this- big blinding smile, full of energy- and takes a second to ponder the turns his life has taken to bring him here, in this moment. where steve harrington is singing a cheesy, upbeat love song at him, having replaced the name in it for his.

steve cups eddie's hands together and uses them as a makeshift microphone, belting out the lyrics to the chorus as eddie giggles along in the background. "-oh, eddie! what a pity, you don't understand," puts his best pouty face and places eddie's hand on his chest, over his heart. eddie's eyes widen. "you take me by the heart when you take me by the hand! oh, eddie, you're so pretty," really fucking emphasises the word pretty. because, damn. "why can't you understand? it's guys like you, eddie!" grabs him by the shoulders and rocks them both back and forth with each word. eddie's hand drops from his chest to circle around his waist, seemingly out of instinct, and fuck, he liked that.

eddie was staring at him now, sparkly eyed and hopeful. steve clasped his hands together at the base of eddie's neck, as he sung, a little less overzealous now, "oh, what you do, eddie, do eddie," as the gap between them got less and less. steve had to work to bite down the grin on his face.

"don't break my heart, eddie." he said, barely loud enough for them to hear over the music. eddie grinned, pressing their lips together as the chorus ended.

it was objectively bad, with the way they both smiled and giggled through the whole fucking thing, but god, who cares. to them, in that exact moment, it was the best damn kiss either of them had ever had.

until, that is, when eddie pulls back (very fucking regretfully) and realises something.

"we did not just have our first kiss to 'hey, mickey!' by toni basil." he whispers, in genuine horror. steve throws his head back with such bright laughter, still pressed against him, that it almost makes it worth it.

keyword almost, because then the menace leans back in, all coy, and replies, "i'm never, ever letting you forget it."

[gurugirl]

Just For Tonight | Ch. 1

Series Summary: Harry spots an angel in the crowd and he can't keep his eyes off of her. And, as if by some cosmic pull, he can't help but ask her backstage. But it's only going to be just for tonight. Or is it?

Chapter Summary: Y/n can't believe her luck when the famous Harry Styles invites her and her friend backstage after his concert is over.

Warning: 18+ only, smut

Word Count: 8646

Commissioned by anon (thank you!! xoxo)

Just For Tonight Masterlist

Almost 20,000 screaming fans, flashing and pulsing lights, percussion, string, vocals, bass, and ego with sex appeal dancing on the stage amongst it all. The entire floor of the venue, stage, walls, and all were vibrating and trembling along with the speakers that thundered with live music, and in the middle of it all the crowd danced and stomped along with the man of the hour. Harry Styles.

For Harry, tonight was a great night. When he performed it was usually pretty fucking great. But tonight, especially, everything was perfect. It was just one of those days that’s a good day for no real reason. The stars aligned, the moon’s gravitational pull balanced everything out, Mars was not in retrograde, and so on and so forth. Who knew what had made it such a lovely day? It just was and Harry was not one to question things like nature and science and destiny. He allowed it to bring him wherever it needed to take him. He was just a passenger on the ride of life.

And everyone in the building felt the same vibes. He just knew it. It had been a perfectly phenomenal day for everyone that he laid eyes on. How could it not? Every time he spotted someone in the crowd and smiled they screamed and jumped excitedly because they were also having a fucking fantastic day. So, okay, sure it might have had something to do with the fact that they were at a Harry Styles concert, and making eye contact with the one and only himself was bound to boost moods.

It was a thrill to wave or smile or call someone out and see their reaction. He loved the attention. Loved watching people swoon and cry out for him. He loved being loved and adored. And tonight, he was very much being adored.

When the song came to an end and the lights went down Harry picked up his Gibson guitar and stepped back up to the mic, signaling the song change. The light shined down over him as he stood gorgeously confident in his black custom Gucci suit sans shirt. His pecs and tattoos bared to the fans, a well-built body proudly on display. He had no reason to not show off. He knew he looked amazing. Not to mention it was also practical because his outfit and the hot lights were boiling.

He loved using old songs from his One Direction days and Stockholm Syndrome always got the crowd to go absolutely nuts. He stood bold and self-assured in front of the microphone as he strummed the guitar and started the song off. Looking at the fans in the center pit they went wild as his eyes roved the crowd, dimples carving into his cheeks at the reaction he got. He’d never get over it.

He began to sing and the sudden greatness of the situation was overwhelming. He knew the universe was giving him something very special at that instant as he strummed and leaned into the mic, belting the opening lines. He wanted to keep his awareness about him and not miss a moment. He was in his element.

And the reason he felt the atmosphere change, he was sure of it the second he laid eyes on her, was standing just right of center stage in the pit. An angel with long hair surrounded by a halo of glitter and the loveliest smile he’d seen in a long time. She wore a bodysuit with a flower pattern that hugged her curves with sparkles all over her skin and her shoulders, gleaming in her hair. Glossy pink and red sunglasses shaped like hearts on her face.

He couldn’t help but look at her as he sang and when he stepped away from the mic to let the fans scream the words he narrowed his eyes at the angel in front of the stage and gave her a quick wave, releasing one hand from his guitar to do so. Watching her pretty pink lips drop open wide when she understood he was waving at her she bounced a little and waved back. Harry’s eyes dragged down her frame again and he realized her tits were bouncing with her. He couldn’t help but notice it. They were supple and she was gorgeous. It was hard not to take her all in as she was.

She hadn’t realized it, until that instant, that he’d been looking at her. She figured that was impossible. There were so many other people next to her but the electricity that buzzed through her veins in that moment had her feeling like the only one in the audience. He continued looking at her through the song, his eyes finding hers as he sang and strummed. His smile deepened each time their gazes met and she felt like she was in a dream. Harry Styles was looking at her and grinning coyly each time his eyes landed on hers.

Y/n was an outspoken person. Someone who didn’t usually hold back with her thoughts and opinions. And even though having Harry looking at her and grinning was making the blood rush to her cheeks and her limbs tremble she knew she needed to call on her boldness to keep his attention. She had an idea before she’d even gotten to the concert that felt like something that would just stay an idea, would remain a little daydream fantasy. But now? She figured why not? She’d seen Harry prancing around at past concerts wearing sunglasses and hats the fans would toss up to him.

But she didn’t want to throw anything up on the stage at him for fear of hurting him or him not seeing it. She wanted to hand him the sunglasses. Maybe they’d even brush fingers. But with the way the stage was set up, she knew that was impossible. Security flanked the fronts and sides and she’d never be able to reach. Instead, she did the next best thing.

The next time Harry spotted her, which was only moments after she decided to enact her plan, she pulled her sunglasses off and pointed at him as she held them up. She was against the barricade near security and Harry’s eyes squinted as he looked at her hand and placed the mic onto the stand before kneeling down next to the man standing in front of the stage. He kept his eyes on the sparkly angel as he pointed at her and spoke to the man who nodded.

The transaction happened in a flash. The man smiled at her as she handed him the heart-shaped sunglasses and then suddenly Harry had them in hand and placed them on his face as he got right back to singing.

The crowd was raucous. Harry wearing cutesy, shiny heart sunglasses got everyone’s attention but Y/n was in awe that he was wearing her cheap dollar store find on his handsome face.

And when the song was over he pulled the sunglasses off and mouthed, “Can I keep these?”

Y/n nodded exaggeratedly and smiled as she bounced a little. It was the best night of her life; she was sure of it. The entire day had been amazing. From the moment she woke up to right then as she had Harry’s grin aimed at her it had been perfection. Even her outfit and hair were perfect. She knew it. It was just one of those days and she felt like it was all meant to be.

She danced and swayed to the songs, sang along with the crowd, and Harry kept giving her glances and cheeky smirks. He was definitely flirting with her.

“I can’t believe he’s keeping your sunglasses! What if he wears them after tonight and he’s photographed with them?” Y/n’s co-worker, Ady, was with her. She and Ady were loose friends. They got along well enough and both liked Harry Styles. So when Y/n scored two tickets and her best friend declined to go to the concert with her she asked Ady. She figured Ady would be willing given the colorful TPWK screensaver she had on her work computer.  

Harry began to interact with the signs in the crowd. Reading them aloud as he casually paced and laughed and made the fans laugh with him.

But as he walked toward the part of the stage where Y/n and Ady were standing Harry pointed directly at Y/n, “What’s your name?”

Her breath caught in her throat as she tried to keep calm and Ady squealed next to her, “Her name is Y/n!”

Y/n turned to look at Ady and they laughed together but Harry continued, “Her name is what again?” He cupped his ear and leaned in to hear better.

This time Y/n was quick to react, “Y/n!!” She shouted as loudly and clearly as possible.

Harry stood up straight and laughed, “Y/n. Lovely. And your friend’s name?”

Ady shouted her name and Harry nodded, “Is it just the two of you?”

Y/n and Ady nodded with wide grins and Harry sauntered around in the spot as he motioned with his arms, “Y/n, here, gave me a pair of sunglasses and is allowing me to keep them,” he spoke to the fans and then looked back toward Y/n. “And I just wanted to say, thank you, Y/n. That was so thoughtful of you to give them to me.”

She placed her hand over her heart as she shouted, “You’re welcome!” And Harry placed his hand over his heart and winked.

An absolute dream. The whole night had been. The attention she was getting from Harry was something she’d never forget. She was positive that he found her attractive based on the way he kept looking toward her and grinning. It was one of those things that happen in life that make you spark and give you a giddiness that you’ll wake in the middle of the night thinking of or suddenly become overwhelmed with while you’re loading the dishwasher. Something that you take with you and sew into your bones and inwardly smile and gush over. Something that can’t ever be taken away. A small moment in time that’s yours to take with you forever.

Harry did his usual end-of-concert routine, including the whale before jogging off stage. The lights brightened slowly and the sounds of chatter and concertgoers laughing and singing filled the venue.

Y/n wasn’t ready to leave the magic of the concert but all good things must come to an end. As she and Ady were about to file out behind the other pit fans the security guard who handed her sunglasses off to Harry approached her, “You’re both invited backstage. Harry’s invitation.”

There was no way she’d ever get over that night.

The area was set up in two sections. A handful of fans and other people were all in one spot, a large room with foldout chairs and tables along the wall, and then there was another room opposite the large one, where Y/n and Ady were asked to stay. The room was small with a couch and coffee table, a few armchairs, a TV on the wall, and a buffet with pitchers of water and juices lined up with glasses and napkins at the end.

Y/n sat in one of the armchairs and Ady poured herself a glass of green juice, “Sure you don’t want anything?”

“I’ll get something in a minute. Just need a second to process everything. That was so amazing, wasn’t it?”

The pair talked about the concert as a man walked into the room and filled a glass with water for himself. He greeted Ady and then Y/n, “Hi. I’m Tommy.”

He sat down and made small talk for a bit, “So, this is the special guest room. Did you get a personal invite from Harry?” His grin was cheeky. Y/n didn’t know what any of that meant.

“Yeah, he invited us backstage after the concert was over. I gave him my sunglasses.”

Tommy nodded and raised his brows, “Ahh… I see. Well, he’ll be done out there soon.”

Soon was thirty minutes later. Tommy turned the TV on and handed the remote to Ady before he left the room. They got to meet Sarah and Pauli before they noticed some of the fans leaving and the other room slowly growing empty.

And when Harry finally walked into the room it was as if time stood still. That cliché was happening in real time. He wore a pair of jeans, a white t-shirt with tennis shoes, and a big smile as he looked at Y/n before greeting Ady with a handshake and a hug.

Y/n stood abruptly as Harry greeted her in the same way.

He sat on the couch and urged Y/n to sit next to him as Ady took the armchair closest and they all talked briefly about the concert. He asked more questions about how they knew one another and if they were from the area, what they did for a living…

He was perfectly polite and attentive. The man was gorgeous up close and Y/n tried not to let her imagination get away from her as he spoke and she watched his features and looked down over his tattooed arm and muscular thighs under his jeans.

Harry laughed at something Ady said and then ran his fingers through his hair and looked at Y/n, “I’m really glad you came. You have good taste in sunglasses. And music,” he chuckled at his joke and Y/n laughed with him.

“But um… would you be willing to stay back with me a bit? If you want?” He looked directly at Y/n as he asked but she didn't assume the question was only aimed at herself and of course, she was willing to stay back with him so she nodded and looked at Ady to make sure she was good with it too.

Just as Ady was about to say something Harry interrupted, “I’m really sorry. I can only have one person stay back per the rules, and since you,” he looked over at Y/n, “were so kind to allow me to keep your sunglasses, thought it would only be fair.”

The sudden realization changed the atmosphere in the room. He was asking Y/n to stay back. Only her. Not Ady.

“Oh, sure. Yeah of course. That’s fine,” Ady smiled and looked at her friend. “Y/n you stay. I’ll go back to the hotel and see you later then?”

It was awkward for sure. Y/n felt a little guilty for being so excited at the idea of being able to hang out with Harry one-on-one but at the same time, it was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Even if Ady had said she would rather Y/n go with her she would have stayed with Harry. She was not going to miss whatever it was he had planned.

She was led into another room. One with a door that Harry closed behind himself. He watched as she looked around. It was what looked like a dressing room.

“Would you like a drink? Or something to eat?” Harry asked as he walked up behind Y/n and honed in on what she was looking at. The rack of outfits. He always had five to choose from for each show. Usually, there was one that was suggested but Harry liked making the final decision. Which also meant each outfit would be tailored the same day as a show regardless if he wore them or not. Now, the tailoring wasn’t much. It wasn’t as if Harry’s weight and size fluctuated all that much from show to show. But lately, he was bulking up a bit. His trainer had him working out for hours each day. Harry’s body was in the best shape it’d ever been in. So some seams were let out and there were a few little tucks and folds and bits that needed to be sewn last minute typically.

“What do you have to drink?”

Harry turned and opened up the mini fridge as he squatted down, “Let’s see. Beer, wine, tequila, whisky. I can get you anything you want, though.”

Of course he could.

“Tequila on the rocks? Is that okay?” She was feeling a bit uncertain. She didn’t know what to expect or what was allowed. She wasn’t sure what was going on in general. Her nerves were starting to erupt a bit at the idea that he might have her in his dressing room alone for something more than just a chat.

“Sure. I’ll have one with you.”

They sat next to one another on the couch and made more small talk. She was surprised that he stayed a couple of feet from her the whole time as he sipped his glass and asked her about her job, her family, a dog she mentioned.

When she’d finished her tequila she tapped at the glass with her fingernails and looked at Harry curiously, “So, um… should I be going now? What’s the plan?”

Harry laughed and gulped down the last of his tequila before clearing his throat nervously, “If you want to go you can but um…” he licked his lips and sat the glass down on the table next to his side and planted his green gaze on her pretty eyes, “I’m going to head to my suite in a bit. It’s really nice and big. Would you want to go back there with me?”

Y/n grinned and squinted her eyes at him, “What for? Are you planning on making a move on me or something?”

Harry sputtered out a laugh and his adorable dimples dug into his face. He hadn’t expected her to say it right then but he could tell she was a bold person. Knew from the start, when she got his attention with her sunglasses that she wasn’t shy and wouldn’t need lots of guidance. Which he preferred. Timid women were nice and all but Harry didn’t like to be the one to make the first move in most cases. He felt that wasn’t fair. He was famous and handsome and it was unlikely a girl would turn him down so he liked it when he was pursued a little. He liked it when the other person made the suggestions and led the way a bit. Felt more authentic that way.

“Do you want me to make a move?”

Y/n sighed and grinned back at him, “You’re not answering my question,” she turned to face him, the glitter on her arms rubbing off onto the couch. “Is that what this is? Because so far you’ve just made a bunch of small talk and you’ve listened to me ramble on about my boring job.”

Harry nodded. Fair enough.

“Okay. Yes. I wanted to make a move. But I feel like doing that in my suite gives us more privacy rather than here. It’s up to you, though.”

“There it is. So this was just a way for you to get me to come back to your room with you.” She smiled as she teased.

Harry laughed a breath out of his nose and nodded, “Yes, Y/n. I hoped you’d come back to my room with me. Will you?”

“Can I kiss you first and then make that decision? I need to know what I’m getting myself into before you get me all alone in your suite.”

Harry gulped and felt his chest get warm. Yes, she was perfectly bold. Exactly what he hoped.

He nodded, “Okay.” He scooted himself toward her body and she moved her hands up to his shoulders and laughed quietly at the absurdity.

Harry smiled and just before he could laugh with her he felt her soft, glossy lips on his and he melted. Her lips were warm and tasted like strawberries from the lip gloss she was wearing and her body was suddenly pressed into his.

When she licked over his lips Harry groaned as he opened his mouth to let his tongue slide out against hers. It all happened so fast and his head was spinning.

She determined she liked, no loved, the way he kissed. A little messy and wet. Plenty of tongue and small moans fell from his lungs. His lips were puffy and soft and she’d never imagined in her life that she’d get to feel his lips on hers but here they were licking and sucking and making out on a couch in his dressing room after his concert.

When she parted they both gasped and their expressions mirrored each other. Blown-out pupils, drooped lids, pink, wet lips, and harsh breaths inhaled into their chests.

“Yes. I’ll go with you to your room.”

They couldn’t go together. Out of necessity. She was taken in a separate car to his hotel and then ushered to the penthouse suite he was staying in.

And she understood the hullabaloo. She knew it was necessary. Not only had she been a fan of his since his One Direction days, and had seen how his fans were crazy, but she also got to see it with her own eyes all the young girls outside of the hotel waiting for him to appear.

His suite was just as posh as she thought it would be. Tall windows overlooked the city lights. The room she entered had tall ceilings, a piano along the wall, flowers on an elegant table, wainscoting wrapped the walls from edge to edge, large wooden doors with intricate carvings, a huge leather couch, and two wool woven armchairs on either side with a low-profile wooden coffee table in the center that looked antique. A huge flatscreen TV across from the couch, a chandelier above, expensive artwork adorned the walls, and a fireplace on the other side with another sitting area and plush pillows piled over the chairs.

Not wanting to wait another second to feel her lips on his, Harry pulled her into his arms and they continued right where they’d left off.

Wet lips and tongues gliding together slowly until Y/n pulled his elbow, “Let’s sit down.”

Harry followed her to the loveseat that faced the fireplace and gestured for him to sit as if it were her room. He nodded and sat, keeping his legs spread apart as he watched the pretty girl climb over him and straddle his lap.

The moment she sat down she felt him under her. He was rock-hard.

“You poor thing. Do you need help, Harry?” She looked at him innocently as he parted his pink lips and nodded.

“Yeah? What do you need then?” She dipped in to kiss him again as she rocked herself over him and he groaned at her moxy. She was quite confident. Harry was already in love.

“Anything. Whatever you want.”

She kissed down over his jaw slowly and heard his chest vibrate as she got lower. What did she want? Well, she wanted to look at him. Wanted to perceive his body up close without any clothes. Wanted to touch his skin and see his tattoos and kiss his pecs and his abs. She wanted to see him.

“Let’s get your clothes off. I want to see you, Harry.”

He was not shy about his body. He’d never been. He had absolutely no problem whatsoever hanging out naked in front of friends or wearing only briefs in front of his family. Though some would urge him to put clothes on, Harry didn’t care if anyone saw his schlong or his balls (well maybe he didn’t want his mom and his sister to see all that).

So when he began to take his clothes off and kept his eyes on hers she watched as he exposed skin little by little. His chest came into view. The laurels, the butterfly, the swallows… He was a god.

But then, when he stood to remove his pants she got to her knees and stuck her fingers into the band of his Calvin Klein underwear, and looked up at him, “Can I take these off of you?”

“Please.”

She smiled at the please. She was tempted to run her palm over the large bulge under the fabric of his briefs first but she decided she couldn’t wait any longer to see him. The moment she pulled the stretchy material down and his cock plopped outward toward her face she moaned as she looked at it closely. Continuing to pull his briefs down his legs, she kept her eyes on his hardened organ. It looked heavy.

“Harry…” she breathed out a moan and looked up at him in all his naked glory. It was even better than she imagined. “Fuck.”

Running her hands up his thighs she focused on the tiger tattoo and delicately kissed over the ink. The solid tissue under his skin was taut. He was strong. His thighs were thick with muscles. Good for a nice hard fuck with lots of stamina, she imagined.

“Can I touch your pretty cock, Harry?” She asked him as she looked up from her spot on her knees. Y/n was still fully dressed but she needed to worship his body for a bit first. It was very important. His build was perfection and he deserved the praise and attention for it.

“Yes, please.” He nodded.

She grinned and tilted her head, “I love it when you say please.”

She turned her focus to the thickened cock before her. He was so hard the foreskin was effectively pulled back revealing his engorged, pink tip. Smooth and pretty. She flattened her palms along either side of his dick over his trimmed pubes and let her fingertips reach up to the laurels at his hips before she grazed her thumb along his shaft.

Harry gasped as he watched her touch him and inspect him. He loved her attention.

“You’re so warm,” she cupped her palm under his shaft and lifted upward. “It’s heavy.”

She leaned in and pressed her lips over the laurels on his hips and sighed as his cock nudged against her chest. The man was incredible. A work of art. She smoothed her palms upward to his stomach and over his abs, tight and well-muscled. Masculine. Pretty.

Y/n had always appreciated how attractive and fit Harry was from afar. Making up scenarios in her head that allowed her to touch him and lick him and do ungodly things to him. Imagining he’d pluck her from the crowd and invite her backstage and then bring her back to his room and fuck her brains out. And she felt like her fantasy was now becoming a reality.

“I’ve always wanted to touch you and see you up close. You’re so sexy, Harry,” she purred as she brushed her hands down to his sides and around his low back as she looked up at him standing over her, “Can I put it in my mouth?” She directed her eyes to his cock and then back up to him.

“If you want. Is it easier if-“

“Just like this. Just need you in my mouth,” she wrapped her fingers around his shaft and lifted him upward, and licked the underside of his cock all the way to the tip. He tasted clean. She could tell he’d showered after the show. He smelled good and he looked even better.

Harry wasn’t sure what to do with his hands but he settled on putting his fingers at the back of her head gently. Not to push her or force her down but just to feel her in his hands and to touch what he could reach.

Kissing the ridge of his frenulum she kept her eyes upward on his as she widened her mouth and put her tongue out before gently wrapping her lips around his smooth tip. Harry’s mouth dropped open as he watched her take him.

She licked and sucked the tip as she slowly stroked him at his base. Pulling back she smiled up at him, “You’re so long. I don’t think I can take you all the way. I’m gonna do my best to make it feel so good for you.” With that, she put his tip back into her mouth and got to work.

Harry groaned and let out the smallest whine, “S’okay. You’re perfect. Just like that, angel.”

She smiled around him and moaned softly at the little nickname. Angel. She figured that was cute.

With her free hand, she brushed her fingers over his thigh and the fine hairs over his skin. There wasn’t any single part of him that wasn’t gorgeous.

Bobbing her head and getting into a good rhythm she found that she could take him a little more. He was still quite thick, though, and it proved difficult.

“You don’t have to… fuck, fuck!” Harry moaned. She felt so good around him doing it just like she was. If she couldn’t deep-throat him he’d still be the happiest man on the planet at that moment. “Don’t have to go so deep. I wanna taste too…” he panted his words.

She pulled back when she tasted his precome and kissed her lips down his shaft to his pubes, seeing flecks of her glitter in the thatch of hair that surrounded his thick base, and then looked up at him before shifting to stand up. She dipped in to kiss his butterfly tattoo, gently poking her tongue out as she went and then upward to his pecs. Using her tongue she lapped at the muscle and wet his nipple before kissing all around, feeling his hair tickle her lips as she let her mouth drag over his skin. She traveled to the other side, her hands on his ribs, kissing and licking at his pectoral.

She sucked his nipple into her mouth and moaned when he gasped in response. Up she ventured to his swallows just under his clavicle, kissing the ink over his bone and skin and then his neck again.

“You’re gonna make me come just like this. Holy shit.” Harry was so hard it hurt and her lips on his skin felt like magic. “Please. Let me lick you too. Take this off.” He pleaded as he plucked at the fabric of her bodysuit.

Y/n stood back and began to unzip the back as she watched Harry. The girl was gorgeous already. Her hair with glitter and soft lips, round doe eyes… but when her tits softly bounced from the fabric she had them trapped under he nearly fell to his knees.

Her nipples were already tight and hard and the flesh that surrounded them was indulgent. Plump. He watched as she pulled the material down her body until she was nude. She’d had nothing on under her bodysuit.

Harry reached to cup her breasts and the moment his palms found her delicate skin and felt her nipples pressing into his hand he leaned down and wrapped his lips around her nipple.

Harry Styles pink lips were sucking on her nipple. The Harry Styles (she repeated in her mind). She didn’t know what sort of good thing she’d done in life to deserve having this happen but she would not question it. She stuffed her fingers into his soft curls and cooed at him, “Feels so good, Harry. I love having your mouth on my skin like this.”

Harry squeezed and kneaded and licked and sucked. He peppered kisses over every inch of her breasts until Y/n was keening and her fingers were tight in his hair.

He pressed his lips to hers and pulled her toward the big bed, her back hitting the mattress solidly before he climbed between her legs and moaned at the state she was in, “Just need a taste. Is that okay?” He looked up at her, his hands smoothing from the inner bend of her knee up toward the top of her inner thigh, inches from her pussy.

“Yes. Of course, it is.” She was going to say more but the words caught in her throat as she watched him go in tongue first. Her cushiony crease was damp and tasty.

Pushing her deeper into the bed, he kept himself between her thighs before putting his arms under her hip and pushing his shoulders against the back of her thighs to keep her spread and open for him.

He began to lick and lap as he watched her eyes. The scruff on his face brushed at her soft skin and her pussy lips felt it too. But she was not going to stop him. She hoped she had scruff burn, or whatever the equivalent of a carpet burn from being eaten out by a man with an overgrown trim on his face was called.

Soft and wet and cushy. Harry was gentle with his licks and kisses. He was wetting his lips and tasting her arousal, swallowing it down, and digging in a little deeper when she started to pant and swivel her hips.

Suddenly the quick flicking of his tongue on her clit caught her off guard from the subdued licking and kissing he’d issued her at first. She moaned as she watched his pink tongue ravage her button. He was pushing into it, flicking it, pressing it down, lifting it up, and then… then he looked into her eyes as he wrapped his lips around her clit and pulled it into his mouth. Slurping noises took over the easy slushy sound of his tongue licking through her folds.

“Harry!” She craned her neck to see what sorcery he was performing, “You’re so good. Right there… yes!”

He had a few go-to cunnilingus moves. This one always seemed to get the biggest reaction the fastest. It also brought women to orgasm in record time. It took some practice but he’d suck the clit and continue flicking his tongue while applying pressure with his mouth over the pelvis.

And the way she was squirming indicated she was enjoying it very much.

He released her clit and then went back to slow licks and kisses up her crease. He stopped at her entrance and lapped at the slick spot for a moment before sticking his tongue inside as far as it would reach. Nuzzling in as close as he could get, he poked his tongue in and out and nudged his nose to her clit, rubbing back and forth.

“Fuck! Yes… Oh my god!”

Harry gently rocked his hips down into the mattress. His cock was throbbing. But he wanted her to come.

Y/n saw his motion and could tell he must be aching. And as much as she’d have loved to let him take his time and eat her out it could take awhile to get her to come from that alone. But she knew one thing that would satisfy her like nothing else.

“H…Harry?” She panted her words as he continued working at her pussy with his mouth.

He lifted his face, “What is it?”

“Would you… Do you want to have sex?” She wasn’t sure if that was where this was headed. Oral sex was great of course. But she’d seen his cock and his body was strong and lithe and she knew he’d be good at fucking. It was all she could think of. Having him inside of her, splitting her open, moving into her repeatedly…

Harry sat up, his chest red and his cock even redder, “Sure. I mean… I’d love that. But this,” he gestured toward her and then himself before putting his palm back on her inner thigh, “is only just for tonight. I just want to make that clear. I’m still on tour and… well you know.” His breaths were deep and ragged.

He hated to give the spiel right then, but it hadn’t come up and if there was one thing he learned in all of his years of having casual sex, it was to be upfront even if it put a slight damper on the mood. It was better than waiting until afterward.

She nodded and grinned, “Well yeah. I didn’t think you’d propose to me or anything. I know what this is. Just for tonight.”

Harry and Y/n positioned themselves on the bed into the pillows and Harry reached over to grab a condom but Y/n took it from him before he could open the wrapper, “Let me put it on you, big guy.”

Harry clenched his jaw and watched the pretty girl tear the wrapper and then straddle his thighs as she held his thick shaft in her palm so she could position the condom over his head before slowly rolling it down over his shaft, “Mmm… It’s tight on you. You’re so big, Harry.”

His eyes rolled to the back of his head. Harry was a big fan of having his ego stroked. Loved being complimented. Praised. Loved when his cock was fawned over.

When the condom was on, Harry grabbed her hips as she climbed over him, lowering her pussy against his condom-covered cock and slipping up and down his shaft to wet the condom.

Glitter was everywhere. On his torso, on her tits, his shoulders, her thighs. She was too far gone to worry about what that could mean for later. She just wanted to feel him inside of her. She ached to have him inside of her.

Their mouths met again as they moved slowly together. Y/n could feel Harry’s tight grip on her thigh and then as he moved one hand to cup her ass, he squeezed and bucked up gently.

She couldn’t wait to get him inside of her so she lifted herself to her knees and placed her hands on his shoulders, “Can I fuck myself on your pretty cock now? You ready to feel me?”

Harry moaned, “God yes.”

Harry was in awe of how she was speaking to him. Not shy and not over the top with how she was taking the lead either. She still allowed him to do things he wanted, but she took initiative and it was one of the hottest things he’d ever experienced.

She grasped the base of his cock and looked down to where they were pressed together as she placed him at her entrance. Harry’s rigid cock was thick and she felt how tight the fit was the moment she slid down over his crown.

Harry groaned and moved both of his hands to her tits and squeezed as she took her time sitting over him.

“You’re so hard, Harry. So thick. Do you feel that?”

Harry’s head was spinning. Y/n was exactly what he needed for the night. The perfect combination of sexy and bold. An angel who knew what she wanted and took it. “Yes, angel… god… gonna dream of this forever,” he looked into her eyes once she was finally seated over him, his dick pressed into her so deep she was sure there had never been anyone that had reached that far into her before.

She knew this was just for the night. Understood Harry’s reasoning and figured that’s what this was going into it. But this was something she’d never forget. She’d always look back on this fondly. And even though he was looking at her in such a way that felt far more intimate than it should, she wouldn’t allow herself to wonder what it would be like to see him again. Because that was definitely not going to happen.

When she began to glide up and down shallowly they both panted in shaky breaths. Harry was glad the condom was giving him the slightest barrier so he didn’t come immediately. Because her tits and her skin, the soft specs of glitter, her lips, and tight pussy were begging for his orgasm. Begging for his come. Everything about her was sex. A gift in the form of a glittery angel that was coaxing and urging an orgasm from him.

“You’re gonna make me come so hard. Fucking perfect,” Harry whispered as she slowly ground over him and pressed her clit into his pelvis.

She nodded and smoothed her hands up, one at the side of his neck, the other on his jaw, “Yeah? My pussy feels so good, doesn’t it? Nice and tight around you. I just know I’m gripping the fuck out of your big cock.”

She moved slowly over him. Gently riding herself on his dick and keeping her clit stimulated as they kept their eyes on one another.

Finally, she leaned in and pressed her lips on his neck and squeezed at the opposite side of his throat as she nipped his skin and drew her mouth upward to his jaw, “God it feels so good, Harry.”

It did feel good. The best maybe. She loved that she got to be in control a little. Loved how he was letting her take the reigns. But she did want him to fuck the life out of her. Put his strong muscles to work. To make a loud chorus of sex sounds and moans bouncing off the walls of the suite.

Stopping her gentle rocking and grinding she licked into his mouth slowly before pulling away, “I need you to fuck me so hard that I feel it for days. Okay? Since this is all we get, want to take you with me through the week.”

Harry let out a whimpered laugh as she removed herself from his lap. Harry followed her and climbed over her as she laid herself down on her back.

He would give her exactly what she wanted. Harry could fuck. That was for certain. He didn’t work out as hard as he did for no reason. And he was attentive so he knew he could at least make it fun. He hoped to give her an orgasm and that was the goal. But if she wanted it hard, wanted to feel him for days, he’d make sure of that.

He pushed himself between her thighs and pulled her hips toward him, elevating her bum off the mattress the slightest as he placed his fingers on her clit, “I’ll fuck you hard, angel. But you tell me if you need anything or you need me to stop. Okay?”

Y/n nodded and grinned at him, “Give it to me, Harry,” she moaned and rolled her hips upward, pressing her clit into his hand. Her thighs were angled upward with her feet flat on the mattress, her bottom resting between Harry’s thighs as he sat back on his haunches. This position would give him plenty of leverage to fuck into her hard and deep using his strong thighs.

Harry’s whole shaft was already coated in her as he lined himself up with her pussy. Removing his fingers from her clit he leaned forward and gave her tits an obligatory squeeze before he pushed his tip in, feeling the tight snap of her muscle expanding and receiving him.

They moaned in unison at the feel of him entering her slowly. He pressed in and slicked himself back out to the tip, watching the way she stretched around him, perfectly wet and aroused for him. And the next plunge he took wasn’t slow at all. She gasped as he slammed himself in to the hilt and held onto her hips, knocking her upward and making her tits bounce.

His pace was relentless and she knew it would be. He was strong and full of stamina. Each thrust and prod into her guts felt deeper and deeper and sharper and achier. She loved it.

She could barely get a single moan out with the way he was punching himself into her.

And just like she wanted, the sounds of sex surrounded them. Skin thudding together wetly, the smallest squeak of the bed rocked in time with his harsh thrust as he hammered into her, and their deep breaths and moans.

The view of her pussylips gripping him on each stroke was phenomenal. The smells, the sounds… The way her tits bounced and her mouth was dropped open. He knew at the very least she was enjoying it.

She moved her hand down her torso and to her clit while the other hand grasped onto one of Harry’s forearms where he kept a tight grasp on her hip.

Soaked. She was absolutely drenched. Her fingers slid over her throbbing button back and forth as Harry thrusted himself in and out deeper and deeper.

“This what you wanted, angel?” Harry asked the pretty girl who was quite clearly fucked out and flopping upward every time he plunged in balls deep.

Her tongue slid over her wet lips, “Oh! Fuck, Harry!” She gasped loudly.

Coming to a halt, he buried himself in until his balls were pressed into her bottom and he undulated his hips to punctuate just how deliciously deep he was inside of her.

She sucked in a sharp breath at the feel of his cock grinding into her, [TK1] “You’re fucking me so good right now,” her chest was rising and falling and Harry couldn’t help when he brought a hand up to her breasts to fondle and press over her nipples, thumbs gliding over the supple skin. She sucked in a sharp breath and stretched her neck, keeping her eyes on his, “But you can always go harder.”

Harry blinked and coughed out a laugh, “Really? You want harder? Can I spank you?”

Y/n nodded quickly, “Fuck yes.”

And that was that. Harry loved a good spanking (whether giving or receiving if he were honest). He pulled out from her sweet pussy and lowered himself over her to kiss her mouth quickly.

But the moment he pulled away she was sitting up and turning herself around to give him access to her ass. On her hands and knees, she looked at him from over her shoulder and noted the way he was taking her all in.

He whined and grabbed onto the globes of her bum and smushed the flesh in his hands. Smoothing his palms over the expanse of her backside he brought them down to the backs of her thighs and then back up, letting his thumbs drag inward and through her wet pussy crease before finally issuing the first harsh strike.

She jumped at the sudden impact but when his palm came down on the other side she melted into the way his big hands felt on her. The sting and the leftover burn. Repeated smacks on either side were interrupted when he slammed his cock into her.

“Fuck I need to be inside of this pretty pussy.” He continued smacking her bum as he drove into her with long and hard strokes, bucking into her with meaningful thumps.

Y/n grasped the blankets under her and kept herself steady but by the time he was finished bruising her backside, his hips began to rock into her at a jarring pace once again. She slowly began to slip forward from his force.

With the front of Harry’s thighs pressed into the back of hers he put an arm under her middle to keep her from slipping too far down. His other hand moved from her hip down to her bum and pulled at the cheek as he rutted into her, a steady clatter of bodies knocking together.

Y/n reached down to rub her clit again, pushing Harry’s arm out of her way. He breathed out a laugh but moved his arm, bringing his other hand to the other side of her bottom, pulling both cheeks apart so he could watch himself sink into her over and over again. Small bits of her white cream were smearing over his condom and he imagined what it might look like to fill her up with his come and fuck himself into her, pushing his own orgasm deep into her insides.

“Harry!” She managed to cry out. It was difficult to speak at all but she was so close and the way he was rocking his hips into her in heavy plunges was perfection.

“I know, angel! You gonna come?” Harry’s words were strained. He was holding out for her to come first. Wanted to feel the squeeze and the throb of her pussy around him.

“Yes! Keep going!”

Harry could feel her fingers brushing against his balls as she rubbed her clit rapidly.

“M’gonna come… please, Y/n! Come for me angel!” He was trying his very best to stave off his orgasm but the view of her taking him and the sounds of him wetly plunging into her were sending him over the edge.

Suddenly Y/n removed her fingers from her clit and brought her hand behind her to grab Harry’s and pulled it forward, placing his palm over the front of her neck, “Choke me.”

Harry groaned as he put one palm flat onto the mattress next to her and used his other hand to squeeze at the sides of her neck. His strokes became slower, his hips pasted to her, pushing inward deep and heavy and sticky.

She sucked in one desperate gasp before his grip tightened just enough that she began to feel that sparkly, wooly stupor she loved with being gently choked. She reached for her clit and all she could focus on were the sounds of Harry grunting and moaning softly into her ear and the feel of his cock lodged deep into her guts. He wasn’t pulling back, only fucking himself forward, deeper and deeper as she submitted to her orgasm.

Harry could hear her wet gurgle and feel the way she vibrated under his body as he rocked into her and then the pulse of her soft walls, wrapped around his cock, gripping him tight as she fell into the realm of stupor and ecstasy.

He let go of her neck and straightened himself out, putting his hands onto her bottom and spreading her as he began to pound into her, long, smooth strokes of his cock nudging into her insides, stretching and splitting her as she came with shaky thighs.

“Fffucckk!” He threw his head back, the image of her swollen, wet, fucked out pussy seared in his brain as he began to come into his condom, filling it up with warm liquid. He groaned loudly into the suite as his balls were being properly drained, wishing, imagining he was giving her his come, coating her insides with him where her body would receive, swallow it, and use it accordingly.

“Oh my god, Harry!” Y/n gasped. He had nudged himself in as deep as he possibly could and the throb of his heavy cock in her felt like decadence. She couldn’t wait to check out the marks his fingers left behind the following day. The little secret only she’d know.

They collapsed together into the bed, Harry pulling out and carefully taking his condom off, discarding it on the floor without much care.

“You’re gonna stay here with me tonight?”

She let her fingers slowly work their way up his abs and over the butterfly, “If you want me to. I don’t mind leaving.”

She didn’t want to leave and Harry didn’t want her to either.

“I want you to stay. I’ve got a wake up at 9 am for a training session so, we can get you a taxi to your hotel or wherever you need then,” he sighed and dug an arm under her shoulder, dragging her toward himself.

Closing her eyes and smiling into his shoulder she nodded, “That sounds great.”

It was a shame this was all only for the night. He’d been an excellent lover, but it was fair of course. He was a busy, famous, pop star. She couldn’t blame him for setting that boundary. She was glad she even had the chance with him at all.  This would definitely be something she’d never forget.

Feedback/Thoughts | Support Me! | Main Masterlist

Thank you for reading! I appreciate any support so remember to comment, reblog, & like 💕

Tags: @daphnesutton @michellekstyles @yousunshineyoutempter @tenaciousperfectionunknown @swiftmendeshoran @luvonstyles @tiaamberxx @lukesaprince @dirtytissuebox @closureesny @lhharrylilpumpkin @justlemmeadoreyou @itsgigikay @angelbabyyy99 @lllukulele @lanadelharry @novasblogofstuff @gills-lounge @damnasstyles @malwtilda @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @0oolookitsme @babybunharry @anothermannharry @love-letters-to-uranus @itjustkindahappenedreally @kelly-fushiguro345 @harrys-foxy @ssaama @onlyangellucifer @harryistheonlyoneforme @butdaddyilovehim-hs @reveriehs @lc-fics @mema10

[sugoi-writes]

In Every Sense - Part 2 to Scent Kink!Alastor x Reader

It's heeeeerrreeee~ Here are some warnings: we get some internal monolgues of Alastor hopelessly trying to seduce you, oral (f!receiving), light man-handling, begging, and some really just... absolutely raunchy filth. Please enjoy~ (please note, this is still overwhelmingly inspired by @hazelfoureyes so please please GO READ HAZEL'S CONTENT. IM BEGGING YOU. ITS SO JUICY)

Right. Where was he? Oh yes... this mess.

Alastor straightened himself out quickly, mess of his clothing and floor included. Your clothes, however, were discarded to his bed... probably never to be washed again.

After he freshed up, his eyes scanned and paused in his armoire mid-search. His taloned hands brushed against a silk top... not one of his preferred fabrics, but one he could certainly pull off. His fingers danced on it a moment more, before deciding it was worth changing it up.

Black, lattice-patterned top and tailored, wine red trousers... simple, but classy, right? As he tossed around the idea of a belt, he decided to skip that step. It would make the process of settling between your sweat-covered thighs take an eternity too long. That is... if he didn't devour you first.

Alastor threw his casual fit together, opting to keep his pointed, black dress a part of the ensemble. But should he try boots...? Would that be too much? Maybe it would be easier to kick off...?

He wondered over to his personal liquor cabinet, pouring himself a whiskey. He needed to get a pep in his step and to still his rambling thoughts. Though he usually preferred to take things slower, savoring the bite of liquor on his tongue... He instead took it as a shot, hardly reacting to the harsh intake. His shoulders hunched, huffing as he turned to look in the mirror. How ridiculous he must've looked...

Hair disheveled... eyes half lidded. His hands were sweating, the loose blouse serving as a juxtaposition to his too-tight pants. Maybe his shirt should be tucked? No, that'd look stupid without a belt...

How strange it was for him to fret... at least, fret over impressing another person. Moreover, trying to impress someone he pined for. He almost loathed the way you made him feel, and how his core seemed to clench everytime you walked by... but, there was no room for doubt now: he would make you answer for his obsessions tonight. Surely you would take responsibility, wouldn't you...?

Alastor's head shook, before he opted to tuck half of his shirt in. He saw this often in modern fashion, targeting the front corner of the shirt to show off or bring attention to his thigh and... well-- downstairs.

He quirked a brow, intrigued with this look. It was... messy. Not the neat-and-narrow hes accustomed to. And in a way, he quite liked it. Maybe with the disheveled top, your eyes would be distracted enough to be drawn below the belt...?

Hah, what a pun. It doesn't work anymore if you don't have a belt, right?

Alastor chuckled, absolutely tickled by the thought. Alastor pulled out a wine-colored blazer, which perfectly complimented his pants. Can't be too prepared for the hellish night, right? He paused, walking over to your discarded top again for one final sniff; one final tease before the real thing. He shuddered at the thought, already feeling a light twitch coming from below. 

With a resolute nod, he walks out from his room, heading towards the lobby. Maybe you would be retired for the night? Maybe he could catch you before your evening shower... He sought you out, his nose steering the way as his thoughts swam with visions of you. He would have you tonight, he thought, his hands summoning and twirling his microphone with a prideful flourish.

--

You hadn't known how it got to this point. You hadn't known how much liquor both you and Alastor had drunk, round for round... but, Alastor's plan managed to work. He caught up with you, just before you were retiring for the night... and now, you did manage to head to bed... just the wrong one.

You yelped as you were slammed against his bedroom door, hands flying to grip the collar of his shirt. The passion of his kiss made you weak, his own knees buckled. Your sounds mirrored the other's, hips rolling in tandem as the heat between your bodies danced and mingled with one another. Alastor was already getting carried away, hands grabbing at everything he could touch... your cheek, your ass, your waist... He needed more. He needed you to be absolutely bothered and sweating.

Alastor pulled away, licking a long, wet trail from your collar bone to your ear. You trembled as ghost-like kisses were placed along your jaw, pleased sigh his reward. Your head tilted back and to the side, allowing better access to the longing demon.

"Ahh-- Alastor!"

His name fell from your lips, bruised and hanging agape as your breath came out in labored puffs. Alastor groaned, eyelids fluttering as he inhaled once more. A shaky sigh soon followed, making your thighs clench together. He licked at the sweat that ran down your neck, swirling his tongue before kissing there again.

More... he needed more of this.

No words were exchanged as his lips wandered lower, your clothing coming down and off with his lecherous journey. You could only cradle and grab at his hair, trying to slow or stop his descent when he would kiss a particularly gratifying area... but your eyes widened as his kisses lingered on your lower abdomen. Your eyes met his candy apple reds, swirling with lust and intrigue.

"Mon cher, I simply cannot bear to wait... I must have you." He couldn't contain his raspy sigh as he took your pants off, sliding them down your trembling legs. You'd be lucky to have these clothes back after this night...

Once you were bare before him, he kissed at your mound, the smell of your hormones and sweat making his brow furrow with desire. His eyes nearly rolled back into his skull as you moaned, nodding feverishly," I-I... I don't-- fuck, Al... Don't stop..."

Al looked firmly at you, mouth hanging open, but not coming closer. You huffed, trembling as your cheeks flush.

"... Pl-please... keep going... I want this."

Alastor smiled up at you, toothy grin absolutely drunk with adoration as he lowered his head. He spread your legs apart, arms moving to lift you. You were pushed up until you sat upon his shoulders, suspended a few inches off the ground. You were shaking at the realization of how powerful he was; how easily he was able to sustain you with just his shoulders. It was a strength that made your abdominals clench in anticipation.

The moment his tongue ran up your slit, you saw the light, eyes widening from the feeling of his warm muscle. Alastor grunted as he started to gently lap at your core. Finally: something that distracted him from how divinely you smelt...

Now he had a new muse (and problem) to keep him up at night... the taste of your arousal.

Like a man starved, he began to lavish you earnestly, hands trapping your thighs around his head. He showed you no mercy as his tongue alternated between stimulating your clit and delving into your relaxed hole. You convulsed with his minstrations, one hand stabilizing you against the door while the other gripped an antler for deer dear life. You soon found your hips rolling into his face, his nose brushing your clit with every thrust. Your head collided with the door as your moans transformed into animalistic whines and huffs, unable to control the ravenous sounds he tore from you. Alastor wasnt any more refined, hungry like a tramp in heat.

His expression shook and strained with pure bliss as he took you in whole: touch, sight, sounds, scent, and taste. This truly was the thing that he needed most; to seek you in your entirety. He knew now that he needed to own your body by ways of physical desire and passion... something he only became keenly aware of recently.

Now, even if your soul would so pretty under his grasp... this seemed to outweigh that desire. This was the ultimate way to both have you, and for you to tie a metaphorical leash around his neck. He hadn't fully realized it, but he was completely and utterly yours, and after this display, you'd surely have him the same way...

His dignity be damned. You were too sweet to resist.

You held his fringe out of his face as Alastor groaned with every flick of his tongue, vibrations sending your nerves into overdrive. His movements, his reactions, and his blatant obsession with your scent had you seeing stars. You ground your face harder into Alastor's obedient tongue, forcing his inhales to be rapid and short. Had he breathed any harder, one would speculate he was panicking. But ahh, what a way to die again, but by your thighs and eager cunt...

"Sh-Shit-- Alastor I'm-- fuck, y-you're too-- Hah!"

Alastor's cock twitched and strained, unable to be freed as your noises grew in tempo and pitch: you were nearing your climax.

Yes.

Yes, cum on him; cum on his face.

He wanted to see your mouth hang open in a silent wail, riddled with ecstacy. He wanted to feel your legs snap his neck from the force of your grip. He wanted to taste the arousal on his tongue as it multiplied. And most importantly... he wanted to be fully engulfed in your scent as your cunt rode his tongue... At this rate, he would be making another mess tonight.

He would never wash his shirt again, aware of the cum dripping down onto the collar of his dress shirt... a notion that nearly made him squirm. Maybe he could convince you to let him keep your outfit, as a token of tonight's debauchery?

He had no more time to think as your orgasm overcame you. Both hands held his antlers as your frantically ground into his mouth, practically suffocating him as you sprayed his jaw with your release. Alastor could only take it, choking and sputtering but absolutely living in the moment. His eyes were fully rolled back, schelaras devoured by a deep, pitch color.

When oversensitivity started to make you quiver, you pulled away, utterly satisfied. Your hands went to smooth out Alastor's scrunched-up hair as he panted. You gave it a playful ruffle, apologetic for your behavior. You smile breathlessly down to the overwhelmed demon, about to thank him... Then, a shrill scream is ripped from your throat. Alastor's seering, hot tongue is on your clit again, hands digging in to the plush of your thighs.

"Mmph... more-- Please, let me have more, cher... need it-- need you!"

You whined as Alastor's pleas fell unto eager ears, head lolling. Alastor's tongue began to awaken a new vigor in you. You were more than happy to please the starved man below you... Maybe next time, you'd tie him up in your clothes, leaving him unable to do anything but take your passion, in every sense of the word...

[sciencebecameouraddiction]

title: dancing in the rain

author: sciencebecameouraddiction

fandom: hazbin hotel

rating: PG

genre: slight, baby angst/ major fluff

pairing: Alastor x Reader

summary: all hell had was acid rain, and all you wanted was the rainstorms you knew on earth.

Rain hardly ever was an occurrence in Hell. And when it was, it was acid rain. You sighed, looking out the window and watched the green acid pouring down on everything, missing desperately the rain storms that you had on earth. Being the youngest at the hotel, you remembered more clearly the burn of the sun on your skin, the cool breeze on a fall day and even the mix of the humidity in the air that felt like it would choke you but the reprieve as a rainstorm came and fell from the heavens.

“What has you so melancholy, my dear?” A voice asked behind you, shockingly quiet all things considered, toning down the announcer quality in his voice.

“Hey Alastor, just thinking is all.” You replied and smiled at him, not wanting to explain that the acid rain made you sad.

“Now, whatever it is that you’re thinking about is casting a dark shadow over your usually lovely face. So, tell me, what’s wrong? What kind of hotelier might I be if I didn’t ensure that all the patrons here were happy?” He said, the announcer tone coming back into his voice, which made you wince. Knowing that meant he knew you were lying so he was going to put on a show if you were. You sigh.

“It’s the rain.” You explain.

“The what now?” He asks, all effects gone from his voice except shock and a bit of confusion.

“The rain. I miss the rain. Not this rain. The rain on earth. The smell of the earth after a good rain storm, the way that especially in the summer when it was so hot, the rain was a cool reprieve. It always felt like…” You trailed off.

“Forgiveness?” Alastor finished, looking outside the hotel now too. You blink and look up at him.

“Yes. Are you sure you don’t read minds?” You chuckle, resting your head on your hand. You suddenly feel his microphone tap your head. You look up at him as holds his arm out to you.

“Come with me.” He says, not giving you time to feel confused. As when you take his arm you shadow travel with him to the other side of the hotel appearing at the door of his room.

“This is your room.” You say, confused now.

“Ever observant. A skill many would kill for I’m sure.” He smiles at you, but the sarcasm is evident as he holds open the door for you and you step into his room.

“Just a certified Sherlock Holmes.” You roll your eyes, taking his sarcasm.

“I never had the chance to read those books.” He mused for a moment, as he shut his door and walked around you heading to the forest area. You stayed near the door.

“I have the collection if you’d like to borrow it and read them.” You explain. “They are annotated though, so you’ll have to put up with my notes.” You explain.

“That would be lovely, dear.” Alastor says stepping on the grass and you watch as he takes off his coat and hangs it on a coat rack that appeared suddenly. He turns to you. “Aren’t you coming?”

“I-I guess?” You say, more like a question. You jog over to him and start walking next to him. “Are you killing me in your forest because I complained about acid rain?”

“Oh, no. Not you at least.” Alastor chuckles. “I want to show you something.” You look up at him skeptically.

“Hey Alastor, can you take smaller steps?” You ask having to jog to keep up with him. He looks down and hums seeing how you were almost running next to him.

“Good to know that if I had to catch you I could do so without breaking a sweat.” He says, as he walks slower and taking smaller steps, allowing you to actually walk, instead of run.

“Har har.” You say deadpanned and roll your eyes. You walk into a clearing that has a cabin in the middle. The whole forest felt like it was shrouded in the twilight of fall when lightening bugs gently floated around and the sky was a perpetual shade of blue, purple and pink. You finally looked up and around, seeing the trees, the bugs, the animals, the sky. Tears formed in your eyes. “Alastor, this is beautiful. It looks just like-“ You stop, your throat constricting as emotion overtakes you. You feel Alastor’s clawed hand rest on your shoulder.

“Just like earth?” He finishes, speaking softer than you had ever heard. You nod and look at him, watching him take everything in and then looking down at you.

“Come, let me show you something else.” He says, walking away and heading to the cabin. You walk in and suddenly feel at home. The decor is a little dated and you feel transported to the 1920’s, but it’s all homey. There’s a kitchen, a living room, a lounge and a hall way leading to what you assumed to be a bed room. You walk through the living room, taking it in but trying not to pry at the photos Alastor had in frames along the mantel of the fire place, you see at the back door there is almost like a deck, with a more modern porch swing.

“The porch swing is a nice addition.” You mention, smiling a bit at the modern accessory in what felt like a time capsule.

Alastor chuckles as he sets his microphone down and rolls up the sleeves of his shirt. He joins you next to the window. “You haven’t seen the best part.” He murmurs, unusually quiet and reserved. You don’t mention the change in demeanor though, wanting to savor the quiet and this almost more authentic view of the Radio Demon.

“What’s the best-“ You stop when you hear it. The start of a pitter patter of rain on the roof, that builds and when you look outside, it’s raining. “Is that?” You blink a few times.

“It is. Safe for you to touch as well. You won’t get hurt.” He smiles a genuine looking smile as he goes over to the record player and starts playing music. Your hand touches the door, feeling the coolness of the water slide down the glass pane. You can’t stop yourself as Alastor fiddles with the record player, you open the door, quickly closing it so no rain would get in the cabin and rush outside off the deck. Twirling in the grass as the rain poured down soaking you.

“What are you doing?” Alastor yelled from the door, watching you like you had gone mad.

“Dancing in the rain!” You yelled back, a smile feeling permanent on your face.

“You’ll catch a cold, get back inside!” He says, looking up at the sky and then back at you.

“No! Come join me! It’s amazing! This is exactly what I remember.” You say holding you hand out to Alastor. His smile looks more like a grimace as he takes you in looking like a wet dog. He looks back inside and waves his hand at something and you see towels appear and the record player is louder so you can hear it outside. He takes off his shoes and socks and places them neatly at the door but far enough away that when you come in, water or mud won’t get on them.

He walks out getting drenched almost immediately as you run up to him and grab his hand and pull him on the grass. You take both his hands and start trying to spin around in a circle with him, as you see his eyebrow raise. You stop and look at him, a little disappointed when he doesn’t spin with you and you start to let go of his hand, until his hand tightens and pulls you to him.

“We can dance in the rain, but we will be actually be dancing.” He says as he proceeds to guide you through a dance that was popular when Alastor was alive, morphing into an odd mash up of a swing dance and you dancing like you were at a rave. You both settled down and were now just slow dancing as the song had turned a bit slower. You watched as Alastor’s eyes were closed as his face angled up to the sky. You made a spit second decision, and rested your head on his chest, really it was like the start of his abdomen but it was as tall as you could reach. You didn’t see his head snap down to you and watch as you seemingly relaxed in his arms, drunk off the warmth he gave and the cool from the rain still coming down. His hand moved up, and grabbed your chin, encouraging you to look at him. As you did, you saw his eyes widen and his cheeks turn bright red.

“What’s wrong?” You ask quietly.

“I’ve never… done anything like this before.” He says quietly, and it breaks the fogginess you felt before.

“You don’t have to be scared. It’s just me.” You say, as if it’s the most simple thing in the world.

“Just you? Darling, just you is enough to have me go to war.” Alastor murmurs and then his eyes widen again, shocked. You realize that he is just blurting things out and there is no filter. You smile.

“Well, I’m honored that the Radio Demon would want to be in my corner.” You say as your hand reaches up to touch his cheek, stopping just a few centimeters away, allowing him to close the gap if he wanted to. He leans into your touch shaking his head.

“Not the Radio Demon, dear. Just Alastor.” He says, looking at you with a vulnerability you had never seen before. Your eyes widen and you smile.

“Even better.”

[kaliforniahigh]

You usually left Noah to his own devices when it came to recording, writing and producing. You knew he got very focused whenever he was in there with the boys.

But tonight, every single one of them has already left the studio, passing by the living room to bid you a quick goodbye before making their way out of the door. They all looked tired in their own ways, and you wondered how long it would take for your Noah to leave the studio.

You tried to busy yourself watching videos on your phone and scrolling through social media. But as the time passed, you realized it was close to 11PM and you haven't even had dinner yet. Your stomach was rumbling and your eyes were beginning to feel tired. So you made your way to the studio to check on your boyfriend.

Opening the door slowly, you saw him sitting on the chair in front of the computer. You could see the back of his head and his ever growing hair that you loved to grab on to and run your fingers through. He wasn't even moving, just blankly staring at the screen in front of him, and you knew it was time to try to get him out of here.

His broad shoulders were being hugged by his black t-shirt. You loved him in everything he worn, but a basic black t-shirt would always be your favorite.

You lingered by the door for another couple of seconds before you knocked, only loud enough for him to hear and turn around on his chair to finally land his eyes on you.

"Hi, baby", his voice was low and a little raspy, clearly tired after a whole day of singing and screaming into the microphone.

But what caught your attention were his drained eyes. You felt a little guilty for finding the sight before you completely adorable, but you couldn't help it. Besides, you knew he got extremely soft and touchy when he got tired, so that's why you made your way over to him, his arms already extending towards you to rest on your hips.

You got closer to him and ran your hands through his hair, he sighed in pleasure and encircled his arms around you in a hug, resting his head on your tummy. You could feel the ends of his hair prickling your skin through the fabric of your shirt.

"It's already 11PM, baby. You need to eat and go to bed", you told him in a small voice, almost a whisper. The room was quiet and despite the cold lightning, you felt a sense of comfort being here with him.

"Shit, I'm so sorry, honey. I didn't realize it was this late", he murmured into your shirt, but didn't move his head at all.

"I'll get something ready for us to eat, and then I'll be back to get you once it's done, ok?" you asked him, but he made a sound of complaint and you felt his arms tighten around you.

"Want you to stay here. Haven't felt you all day", he nuzzled his head closer as if to get his point across and convince you to stay. He never had to convince you to stay, your favorite place would always be with him.

You moved around a bit in his embrace and settled yourself on his lap, straddling his hip. The position didn't feel sexual at all in this moment. You were both craving some sense of closeness - him more than you - and the feeling of each other's body heat, so you decided to give him what he wanted before you would have to inevitably get up and fix you both something to eat.

You rested your head on his shoulder and he started to move his hands up and down your back.

"How was the studio session today?", you asked him, wanting to know if the reason he was staying here so late was because he was struggling with something, or because it was going so right, he didn't want to stop.

"Started good, but then we hit a brick wall. The guys left to clear their heads and I stayed here to try and sort it out", he mumbled into your neck. You knew that he felt more responsible than the other guys, and you always tried to tell him that this is a team effort, but you knew your boyfriend would always work himself to the bone regardless. And that'd when you would gladly step in.

"How about you also get out of here to clear your head? You can wait for me on the couch while I get dinner done", he knew why you were so adamant on him eating something. Having watched him go to bed without eating one too many times. The thought of you worring about him so much filled his stomach with butterflies. He loved being cared by you.

He finally nodded, realizing he wouldn't get anything done this tired and hungry.

You got up from his lap and he stood up after you, taking your hand in his and leading him out the door. Making your way to the kitchen, you thought he would situate himself on the couch and rest for a bit, even doze off for a while. But he followed you to the kitchen and made a personal home behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his head on your shoulder.

You smiled to yourself, knowing there was nowhere you'd rather be right now. From time to time you gave him a piece of whatever you were cooking - and he gave a hum of appreciation, telling you it was good - and from time to time he gave you a kiss on the neck.

Noah was forever grateful for your presence in his life, knowing that he needed you to bring him back down when his head got too far up in the clouds. He didn't know what he'd do without feeling the heat of your body and your delicate hands on his skin at the end of a rough day.

[yesihaveaobsession]

Sleek Black Dress

Alastor x female reader

Summary: After joining the rest of the Hazbin gang to a night out, Alastor gets jealous when sinners get too close to you.

A/N- Jealous Alastor? Yes.

The night at the bar was in full swing. Dim lighting cast a warm glow over the crowd, and the music pulsed through the air. Charlie and the Hazbin Hotel crew were out enjoying themselves, letting loose after a long week. You, however, were the center of attention. Dressed in a seductive black dress that clung to your curves, your heels clicked rhythmically against the floor as you moved. Your hair was styled perfectly, and your makeup accentuated your features, making you look both stunning and irresistible.

Despite the vibrant atmosphere and the fun Charlie and the others were having, Alastor was not far behind. He arrived an hour later, having debated whether or not to join them. When he entered the bar with his usual flamboyance, he scanned the room with his sharp eyes. As soon as his gaze landed on you, his usual smile faltered slightly. His eyes narrowed—not in anger, but in something far more complex—jealousy.

Sinners, emboldened by alcohol and the lively environment, began hitting on you. Their advances were less than subtle, with their hands lingering a bit too long on your arm or waist. You tried to deflect their attention politely, but it was clear they were not taking no for an answer. Their unwanted touches and suggestive comments made you uncomfortable, and you could feel a knot of anxiety tightening in your stomach.

Alastor’s anger simmered beneath his charming facade. He never even made it to the group, standing at the entrance of the bar. The heads in that section turned to look at him, but he didn’t seem to care. His gaze remained fixed on you, a storm of emotions brewing in his eyes. It wasn’t long before he was back at the hotel, doing a broadcast. The feeling of being watched was gone, and you had had enough of the drunks. You came up with a flimsy excuse and retreated from the bar, your heels clicking on the pavement as you made your way back to the hotel.

Upon entering the hotel, it was eerily quiet, with no sign of Alastor. Deciding to head to the Radio Tower, you made your way through the empty hallways. Each step echoed in the stillness, amplifying your sense of unease. When you reached the door, you could hear the low, persistent hum of radio static. Inside, Alastor was silhouetted against the control console, the microphone poised in his hand. The usual warmth of his old-timey radio tone filled the room, but tonight it carried a deeper, more ominous resonance. The familiar crackle of static seemed heavier, tinged with an unsettling weight.

His eyes, however, were not on his work but on you. The moment you stepped in, his expression shifted from professional to possessive. He abruptly cut off his broadcast, and the room fell silent except for the occasional beep of machinery. Alastor rose from his chair, his movements precise and deliberate. His gaze locked onto you with an intensity that made your breath catch.

As he approached, you felt a rush of fear and anticipation. Your heart raced, and you instinctively took a step back, your back hitting the cold, unyielding surface of the control console. The console’s edge pressed into your spine, and you could feel the chill of the metal through the thin fabric of your dress. The distance between you and Alastor closed rapidly, each of his steps echoing with a deliberate menace.

You could see the strain in his face, his usually immaculate hair slightly disheveled, adding to his imposing presence. His eyes, typically sharp and calculating, were now clouded with a dark, stormy intensity. The rapid rise and fall of his chest showed how he was struggling to control his breathing, each breath heavy and uneven. The sight of him, so tightly wound, made your own anxiety spike.

When he was inches from you, the heat of his anger was almost overwhelming. The scent of his cologne—sharp and sophisticated—mixed with the cold, metallic smell of the control room, creating an intoxicating but intimidating atmosphere. As he pressed closer, you felt the oppressive weight of his presence, making it hard to breathe.

Alastor’s expression was a mix of anger and something else—something deeper, more complex. “Tell me, who do you belong to?” he demanded, his voice a gravelly whisper that sent a shiver down your spine.

You swallowed hard, feeling the weight of his possessiveness and the heat of his anger radiating from him. Your voice trembled slightly as you tried to respond. “Alastor, I—”

“Don’t,” he interrupted sharply, his face inches from yours. “I saw them all over you, their hands on you. Do you think I can just stand by and watch?”

The fear and vulnerability you felt were almost overwhelming. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I didn’t want to draw attention, but they wouldn’t leave me alone.”

Alastor’s eyes flared with a dangerous light, his anger palpable. “You think a few excuses will make this any better? You think you can just brush off their advances and expect me to be fine with it?”

You could see the strain in his eyes and the tightness in his expression, making your heart ache. “I didn’t want to cause trouble. I was just trying to enjoy the night.”

He took a deep breath, his anger simmering just below the surface. His expression softened slightly, but his gaze remained intense. “You think I don’t care about you? I’m very fond of you. I see everything, and it bothers me when I can’t protect you. You’re mine, after all.”

Before you could respond, he stepped back abruptly, his demeanor shifting from aggressive to strangely calm. He grabbed his microphone, the familiar device now feeling like a weapon in his hands.

“I’ll be back,” he said, his voice colder than you had ever heard it. “Think about what you mean to me while I’m gone. Remember, you belong to me, body and soul.”

His gaze lingered on you one last time before he turned and started toward the door. The tension in the room was palpable, and you were left to grapple with the weight of his words and the depth of his possessiveness.

You knew what his departure meant. Alastor was not just leaving; he was giving you time to ponder the consequences of his jealousy. The way he said it left no room for doubt—when he returned, the confrontation would be even more intense.

[okay-babe]

Headcannons ~ Alastor with a reader who has a contract with Valentino...

tags: alastor x fem! reader, established relationship (in the final third of the post), cam star! reader, possessive! alastor, valentino sucks (as usual), mild angst, mild nsfw note: okay so I got an ask wanting to know my thoughts on Alastor with a reader who used to be in a contract with Valentino and has to interact with him, but I misread it as Alastor with a reader who is currently in a contract with Valentino and has to interact with him lol, so here's this! (The actual request should be fulfilled soon, my bad anon!).

♱. At first, Alastor definitely thought you were more than just a little foolish for having made a deal with an overlord like Valentino (bro does not understand the concept of victim blaming).

♱. In his mind, the moth is so blatantly rancid that it just doesn't make any sense for anyone to ever think otherwise, even for a moment.

♱. But then, as he gets to know you better, he starts to see things a little bit differently.

♱. "This is gonna sound stupid..."

♱. You told him one day while speaking on the topic of the overlord who owned your soul, a rare occurrence indeed due to the stigma your contract seemed to carry.

♱. "But honestly, Val was the first person down here to actually make me feel like I was... I dunno... attractive?"

♱. You groaned at the end of your sentence, burying your head in your hands,

♱. "I just... I didn't recognize myself anymore, the person in the mirror wasn't me, y'know? It's like one second I was a human, and the next I was, well, this!"

♱. You exclaimed, gesturing to yourself all the while.

♱. "In a way, his absolutely ridiculous insistence that he could make me into a star made me realize that just because I looked a little different didn't mean I looked bad..."

♱. You trailed off, hands stuffed into your pockets as you looked into the distance,

♱. "And then when I learned about everything he had to offer? I mean how could I have possibly said no? It felt like a win-win back then, or at least something close to it. He promised that no one would touch me, that all he needed was my pretty face and a camera."

♱. You looked toward your then friend with a sigh, a tired smile plastered upon your face,

♱. "I guess he kept that part of the bargain, huh? I just never really thought he would end up being so... awful."

♱. You cringed at the end of your statement, eyes going glassy for a few moments before you suddenly clapped your hands together, standing up abruptly immediately afterward.

♱. "Haha, anyways, you have to have like a thousand contracts right? There's gotta be some good stories there."

♱. As you urged him to speak further on his own experiences, Alastor couldn't help but reconsider his previous thoughts regarding your deal.

♱. Perhaps you weren't as foolish as he had initially thought.

♱. Honestly though, as time goes on and your friendship develops even further, Valentino's contract with you really doesn't end up being that pressing of a topic.

♱. Most of the time, any thoughts regarding the overlord go unsaid, and your business with him is considered yours and yours alone.

♱. That is, until you miss a photo shoot for Slayboy magazine (sorry) and the moth turns up at the hotel, clearly pissed off.

♱. So pissed off in fact, that he had neglected to consider the fact that it wouldn't necessarily be you who responded to his incessant banging...

♱. With a wide grin and an almost obnoxious flourish, the radio demon opened the door, leaning slightly on his staff as he regarded the moth with an amused hum.

♱. "Oh my, the vice demon himself here to visit our humble hotel? Why, to what do I owe the displeasure?!"

♱. He exclaimed, watching as the man's eye twitched slightly in response.

♱. "Where is she?!"

♱. He growled, moving to stalk past Alastor only to be stopped at the pressure of the overlord's microphone against his chest,

♱. "Ah ah ah,"

♱. He tutted,

♱. "You most certainly do not want to do that."

♱. His voice held a hint of warning to it, and a great deal of amusement, his eyes full of malice as he spoke.

♱. Valentino glared,

♱. "Fuck off you corny old bitch, this doesn't concern you."

♱. In response, Alastor simply chuckled, his bones popping and muscles splitting as he slowly began to grow in size, in no mood for the other demon's antics.

♱. "Oh but that's where you're wrong, you insufferable wretch."

♱. He said with an earsplitting grin,

♱. "Anything that involves my most esteemed employee very much does concern me."

♱. In reaction to the sight before him, Valentino snarled, but took a step backward nonetheless, not quite stupid enough to pick a fight with the radio demon on his own.

♱. "Ugh, fine!"

♱. He shouted,

♱. "But you tell that fucking whore to be on site in thirty or I'll find a way to kill her twice!"

♱. And with that, he was turning back toward his limo, ignoring the loud radio static that sounded from behind as he did so.

♱. Of course though, that was just about the only time that Valentino ever got away with ordering you around in front of Alastor, because soon enough, your friendship began to bloom into an extremely unexpected romance.

♱. And after that?

♱. Well, Alastor became a lot less tolerant of the idea that something like your soul belonged to someone else.

♱. He was constantly glaring daggers at the moth demon nearly every time he saw him, be it at an overlord meeting, or even the photo shoots you had in studios outside of the V's gaudy looking headquarters (he might love you, but starting a war with Vox by hanging around in that tower definitely wouldn't be a very smart move).

♱. Makes a show of helping you undress at each and every shoot that he does go to though, neatly folding your clothing for you before pressing a gentle kiss to your head.

♱. "Go on then, my dear."

♱. He would purr,

♱. "I'll just be here enjoying the view if you need me." (He's so corny).

♱. Absolutely despises the fact that your deal forces you to show your body the way that you do in front of a camera. Like not a fan at all.

♱. He doesn't really judge you for it knowing why you ended up making your deal in the first place, but he has absolutely killed an obscene number of sinners and hellborn fools that he witnessed viewing your content in public.

♱. "Al, they're not doing any harm!"

♱. You commented one day after the particularly gruesome murder of a random sinner, arms crossed.

♱. "Oh, on the contrary, darling,"

♱. He'd purred with a wide and unsettling grin,

♱. "I'm afraid they were looking a bit too intently at what's mine."

♱. Yeah you didn't argue too much after that.

♱. (Not like it would ever do you any good to anyway).

♱. Whether or not he actually tries to find you a way out of your contract though, is really entirely up to you in the grand scheme of things.

♱. He certainly isn't fond of it, the idea of another man owning you and all...

♱. But in the end he'll get over it if you really want him to... Just give him a few hundred years or so...

♱. (Yeah unless you can give him like a thousand spectacular reasons not to, he's going to try to find a way to get you out of that deal with Valentino).

♱. Still, in the meantime, he definitely makes your shoots feel a little bit less daunting (although if Val makes one more comment about how lucrative a photo set with you and the radio demon would be, you're worried Al might actually kill the guy).

[psuedosugu]

Ohhhh my golly I saw your Vox x daughter reader an it got me thinking now HEAR ME OUT….what if reader got bored on day an just went for a walk and somehow came across Alastor, now let’s say Alastor’s a lil confused like he never knew Vox had a daughter and readers like *sad sigh* “I’d be surprised if anyone knew” an Alastors all fatherly to her at first it was to get dirt on Vox without reader realizing but in the end he just liked hanging out with her. Eventually Vox noticed how his daughter is gone half the time but reader just convinces her dad that she’s always home and how HES the one always away. Change the ending how you see fit or do whatever you like but UGH I love your writing stay hydrated and eat wellll🩵

assjjjkkj thank youuu the amount of feedback ive gotten on this acc that ive only been posting on for like 3 days is insane, anyways this is such an interesting idea omgee

cw: reader having some emotionally absent daddy issues

fem reader

pt 1 here

ִֶָ 𓂃˖˳·˖ ִֶָ ⋆★⋆ ִֶָ˖·˳˖𓂃 ִֶָ

͙͘͡★ || so you had just gone out on an innocent walk, right?

͙͘͡★ || well, technically snuck out since your dad doesn’t like you going out by yourself.

͙͘͡★ || theres bad people out there! what if you got kidnapped or something?

͙͘͡★ || no one recognizes you, of course, since he doesn’t really talk about you let alone shows you to the public.

͙͘͡★ || you appreciate him for that, you guess, it must be annoying to not be able to go anywhere without a bunch of microphones in your face.

͙͘͡★ || you just wish he was around more! he barely makes any time for you and yeah, his work is super important and time consuming but you’re his daughter!

͙͘͡★ || lost in thought, you bump into a dude in the sidewalk.

͙͘͡★ || “whoops! excuse me, ma’am!”, he says in a weird, static-ish voice.

͙͘͡★ || your skeleton almost jumps out of your skin when you look up.

͙͘͡★ || the radio demon, the guy that your dad has had beef with since you were little

͙͘͡★ || you just stare at him with a “ :o “ look on your face, not knowing if you should run or not.

“little girl, are you, um, alright?” he stares down at you, slightly confused.

“im…uhhh…im okay!”

“you’ve heard of me, i suppose.”

“i guess…. my dad doesn’t really like you.”

“and who might your father be, hm?”

“yk the tv dude? the one thats, like, everywhere? yeah, that him.”

“hmm…interesting…i wasn’t aware he had a daughter…”

“well, he doesn’t really talk about…..”

͙͘͡★ || at this point you stop blabbing mid sentence, realizing you probably shouldn’t have said all of that to his sworn enemy.

͙͘͡★ || what if he does kidnap you and holds you for ransom?

͙͘͡★ || but he doesn’t do that, surprisingly.

͙͘͡★ || he asks you why you’re out alone so late and you shrug, saying that your dad wasn’t really there to stop you.

͙͘͡★ || you were naive and alastor was planning to use that to his advantage, not to hurt you, but to hurt vox.

͙͘͡★ || what would he think when he found out that his own daughter was buddy-buddy with his sworn enemy?

͙͘͡★ || he’d feel like a failure of a father, and thats what alastor wanted, to get under his skin.

͙͘͡★ || you guys walked while you told him everything, about him being away all the time, about you feeling lonely, while he nodded along

͙͘͡★ || you guys even stopped at one of those old timey bar places and bought you a milkshake!

͙͘͡★ || eventually you headed home, your dad hadn’t noticed you had been gone which figures.

͙͘͡★ || this became routine, you hung out with alastor and he gave you advice and stuff. you thought that if he had an ulterior motive it would’ve shown itself by now but no, it hadn’t.

͙͘͡★ || alastor himself had started to forget why he had even started all of this. he found himself enjoying your company and actually caring about you.

͙͘͡★ || after a while vox started to notice that he’s been seeing you less than he usually does.

͙͘͡★ || i mean, the tower is big but cmon! there were days where he would barely see you at all! where were you going?

͙͘͡★ || he confronted you about it at dinner one day.

“[name], dearest, i cant help but notice that i haven’t been seeing you around much lately. what’ve you been up to?”

͙͘͡★ || you pause, looking up from your food.

“i, um, dont know what you’re talking about.”

͙͘͡★ || he furrows his (virtual) eyebrows.

“is that so?”

“mhm!”

͙͘͡★ || vox is reasonably skeptical and resorts to spying on you through your smartwatch because of course you have a voxtech branded smartwatch!

͙͘͡★ || hes absolutely livid when he finds out who you’ve been sneaking out to be with and he’s waiting for you when you get home.

͙͘͡★ || you’re indefinitely grounded until he says so and he starts tracking where you go in the tower.

͙͘͡★ || he knows that its a violation of privacy and stuff but dont you see that he’s trying to protect you? alastor is dangerous! he doesn’t get how you didn’t see it earlier.

͙͘͡★ || alastor does succeed on what he set out to do, though. vox is distraught, feeling like a horrible father. he even vents to valentino about it out of all the people!

“-i mean, what kind of father doesn’t even notice their own child sneaking out in broad daylight every day? i should’ve paid more attention to her, im a failure!”

“mhm….yeah….”

͙͘͡★ || val obviously doesn’t give a shit.

͙͘͡★ || after not bumping into you for a while and seeing the up in vox slandering him online, alastor figures what happened.

͙͘͡★ || he’s glad that he succeeded in his mission to bother vox further but does miss talking to you.

͙͘͡★ || vox does vow to make more time for you and be a more attentive dad, so i guess some good comes out of this.

ִֶָ 𓂃˖˳·˖ ִֶָ ⋆★⋆ ִֶָ˖·˳˖𓂃 ִֶָ

i do requests!

check out my masterlist!

[doki-doki-imagines]

Hi I’d like to request a trope I’ve seen in different media. I think it’s called the Fake Out Make Out trope. It’s usually where 2 people are hiding, but there is no where to really hide so they lock lips to throw off the seeker or to avoid suspicion 😆 If you have seen The Winter Soldier movie, it’s like that scene where Captain America and Black Widow kiss, or you can just look up that scene 👀

Anyway I’d like to request that trope with Kenshi, Kung Lao, Raiden, Liu Kang, Bi Han and Kuai Liang pls? Can you make it where they are not in a relationship, but maybe afterwards they felt a spark lol 😆I hope this is acceptable!

Kenshi Takahashi: -He is tense. Even if Sento is strapped on his back, making him see more or less, Kenshi never lowers his guard. -You are his eyes, sunglasses hiding your eyes, light steps pushing you both forward. -Till you reach a bench, your target in sight while he talks to a mercenary. -You both sit there, the breeze caressing your faces, Sento perfectly hidden behind your bodies rolled in newspapers and behind a wonderful bouquet. -But then something catches your eyes and Kenshi notices it, he feels your body tensing next to him. "What is happening-" His tattoed hand already reached his katana when your lips locked with his. -He is shocked, his first reaction is to pull away, but your hands on his cheeks keep him in place. -You murmur something in between kisses "Act-" "Like a couple." -He doesn't need to be told twice, also because it has been a while since he had this kind of contact and it is so good. -Kenshi forgot how nice is a lips to lips contact. His hands don't roam much, but you feel them teasing the end of your sleeves, rising it up to feel your skin. -You are the one breaking the kiss, his lips follow yours and the sight makes you smirk. -"They walked away. While you weren't looking- I mean" He pinches your cheek as to punish you for your slip "While we kissed I dropped a hidden microphone towards them. And they didn't notice anything!! We are such a good couple Kenshi-" -You keep blabbering while you go back to the base, but Kenshi's mind is somewhere else. Just the cheer in your voice being registered making him happy by reflex. -Honestly, he wouldn't mind always working with you if all missions go like that.

Kung Lao: -For Lao spy missions are like a walk in an amusement park. He grew up in the middle of nowhere so everything is new to him. His eyes shine with joy and he has a smile plastered on his face. -So his partner always has to remind him that they are there to work, not to have fun. -But you don't say anything, his happy face doesn't make your enemies suspicious. -They enter the subway and you two follow, sitting in an empty wagon with your target and the suitcase filled with top-secret information. -But something catches their attention, maybe you are looking at them with a too serious face and you feel your cover dropping. -Therefore you go all-in, tapping on Lao's shoulder while he looks at the advertisements running on the screens. -"What-" You take his hat from his hands to cover your faces, lips locking leaving him breathless and, for once, speechless. -He doesn't question your action and reciprocates immediately, the joy of being kissed by his secret crush and the one of traveling around summed together. -His hands travel more, one gripping your waist the other running to the back of your thigh to lift it and lay on his legs, making you almost sit on his lap. -The privacy you tried to keep with his hat is totally useless. The wet smacks of your lips a clear sound of what was going on. -Then the subway stopped, your target walking away, a bit disgusted by the show. You wait a bit before breaking the kiss, prompting Lao to wake up from the daze to continue with your mission. -"Wait!? Did you kiss me just to hide us?" "Lao-" "Like good move, we should totally do it again-" "Kung Lao!" -Now you have a mission, but he will stay on the ball, so you better clear things up later.

Raiden: -He is really serious about the mission, eyes never staying still, muscles ready to react at any sudden movement of your enemies. -His steps increase and it's getting hard for you to keep up. -And all of sudden, while you are still inhaling hard you feel your body being pulled by your arm. The world spins around you till' your back hits the wall. -It was Raiden, pulling you into an alley, his index finger to his lips, telling you to stay silent. -And you do, until you feel steps, probably of your pursuers, coming closer to you. -You take Raiden's shirt neck in your hands and push your lips together, catching him by surprise. -His hands stay still on your shoulders, gripping them tight, your hands do not. -One ran down his back, the other grabbed the back of his neck, scratching the skin before a groan blossom in his chest. -The sound is delightful and makes you wonder how many other sounds you can pull from him. Like a perfectly crafted instrument under your hands. -Raiden is the first to pull away. He looks into your eyes for a second before lightly slapping your shoulder, like he wants to tell you "good job" "Nice decoy, now let's go." He walks now on the main street, you just nod still in a trance. Raiden's hand holding yours to keep you close. -For a moment you hope he'll never let you go.

Liu Kang: -You are in Shang Tsung's laboratory, trying to steal some documents that may help you heal people from Tarkatan. -You are no spy, no warrior, but Liu Kang made sure you understood that it was an order; you had to go with him. -You walk around, the place is a mess and documents are dirty and all the floor. "I hope we'll be able to find what we need-" "Don't distress yourself, dear. I'm sure we'll find something." -You search around the bookcase before you both hear footsteps. You turn back, eyes wide. -You don't have time to react as Liu already took the matter into his own hands, pulling into a small and dark storeroom, your chests pressing against each other. -"Lord-Lord Liu Kang, this is awful-" Your breath is erratic, anxiety having the best of you. "Don't worry dear. Nothing will happen we'll just have to keep sile-" He whispers before being interrupted by you again. "But I'm no good with that! I told you I wasn't a good-" -And then Liu Kang has a genius idea. His lips lock with yours. Not a simple peck, but a deep kiss like a movie's one. -You don't reject him. You totally go for it, hands on his hair and then in his back, caressing everything you can. Liu Kang for sure doesn't step back, if anything he turns up the heat. -Literally and figuratively. -You don't stop when outside is quiet, you stop when you need oxygen. Your lips connected by a thin trail of saliva, foreheads knocking against each other, and noses brushing. -He pecks your lips again and again. You try to regain breath but it is hard when your heart screams at you to kiss him again. -"Maybe…we should do more missions together." Liu Kang smiles, eyes closed before pecking your lips again. -He knew this moment was going to happen, but much later therefore he decided to quicken the times just a little…

Bi-Han: -You really didn't want to do this. Working as a spy is a pain and the pain increases tenfold if you have to do that with Bi-Han. -Thankfully he doesn't nag a lot, always covering for your misstep. Probably he had to talk to himself in the mirror before dealing with this mission not to snap at you every 5 minutes. -Obviously, Bi-Han will often correct you, but at least his voice won't drip superiority. Or better, it's still dense of superiority, but he simply talks less so you won't hear it as much as other times. -You are inside the enemy base when you hear footsteps coming your way. You are dressed in the enemy uniforms, kindly given by Bi-Han after punching an enemy soldier till he passed out. -He pulls you toward a corner of the hallway, a locked door on your side. "Kiss me." He orders. Voice low and barely a whisper. "What?" You see him lowering, trying to hide as best as he can behind your body. "I'm wearing Lin Kuei's uniform, they'll recognize me immediately." He grits his teeth. "Your head is so fucking hard, I told you to wear the uniform too-" -His rough hand grabs the back of your neck, pulling your head closer and locking your lips together. -The kiss represents him perfectly. It's rough and you feel him overpowering you even in his "weaker" position. It feels like he is teaching you how you should kiss, the hand that was before on the back of your head now is on your throat squeezing every time you try to pull away. -You pull on his bun, trying to reciprocate the roughness, but he bites your lips licking away the drop of blood spilling from the cut, before going back into your mouth. -The soldiers meanwhile walk by, some of them whistling, earning a killer side-eye from Bi-Han who couldn't keep himself. -The kiss breaks when he decides it. "Let's go." He says, finally standing tall next to you, still dazed. -He'll never bring the topic of the kiss back and he is happy knowing you won't either. -After all, it's impossible for you to guess what was the real reason he kept his uniform on, other to his blind loyalty to Lin Kueis, no? -Bi-Han should stop underestimating others.

Kuai Liang: -You dressed him up in modern clothing and you can see how uncomfortable he is in them. -"I'm sorry Kuai, but we had no other choice." You smile at him, sunglasses hiding your eyes. "I know. Please, call me Liang." He sighs out, trying to adjust the collar of the hoodie. -You walk fast, you know that your enemies will soon find you trying to steal the usb key you worked so hard for. -You go down the escalator when your sight cross with a suspicious man. He makes your skin crawl. -You turn around looking at Liang through your sunglasses "Kiss me." You whisper. "What?" "They are suspecting us. Go for it in three, two, one-" You throw yourself at him, your lips against his soft ones. Liang is the first to reciprocate the kiss, his lips already dancing with yours. -His hands travel a lot, always so near to your backside but never crossing that line. -The man finally looks away and you break the kiss, not before pulling his lower lip with your teeth. There is silence until you step on solid ground. "Walk fast, they'll soon understand who has the key." You look ahead, your breath stable as if you didn't just kiss your crush. "Shouldn't we talk about what just happened?" Liang finally walks next you, his steps quicker than yours, and therefore he almost surpasses you. "What? I was trying to keep professional. It looked like an efficient way not to get us caught." You wear your best poker face, hoping Liang won't notice the trembling at the back of your voice. "Well, that was a bit more than just a professional ruse." He now stands in front of you, walking backward trying to look behind your glasses, searching for your eyes. -You exit the building and point at a car where Johnny is waiting for you both with Kung Lao. "We'll talk about that later." Your voice is stable and it makes Liang sigh. -You sit in the back, your shoulders pushed against each other in the back of Johnny's sport car. -A whistle breaks the silence. "Trouble in paradise?" You made sure the kick you gave to his seat hurt his back.

[onsomenewsht]

now playing: Colorado

< track 2 || track 4 >

》 Alexia Putellas x Reader

》 words count: +1k

》 I'd choose the devil I know over the heaven I don't

The end starts with you finding the ring.

“Alexia, I swear to your good knee, if you’re not ready I’m gonna sell your Ballon d’Or”, your announcement resonating through the rooms. 

You’ve been ready for an entire hour now, beaming and excited for the opportunity to present with your teammates a special award named after your captain. The only thing missing is your perfectionist girlfriend still hidden in the bathroom.

When you open the door, you cannot believe your eyes.

Alexia’s tattooed back is exposed in the criminally low backless dress she’s in, sure, but her hair is still dripping wet and she’s fighting with a makeup brush. Clearly losing, her frown is a well known hint for you. 

She’s not ready and now you have to find your way on the black market.

“Need help?”

“No”

“Yes, vamos a llegar tarde” (we’re late)

“No voy a llegar tarde si ni quiero ir” (I can’t be late if I don’t wanna go in the first place)

Your chuckle filling the room is enough to make the blonde smirk, but you know her well enough to read the subtle lines on her face. Her worries are clear, the reasons to be discovered and a solution to be found.

Taking place behind her figure, you set your hands on her sides and plant a couple of strategically placed kisses on her back and shoulders. Her fitted form relaxes right away under your lips.

When your eyes meet in the mirror it's like a story is being narrated, an understanding of each other that goes beyond big words and great gestures but holds the deep love shared.

Your fingers move to untangle the blonde’s wet hair, taking the time to dry and straighten each lock just as she likes.

“Lo siento” (I’m sorry)

Shy Alexia is a version of her few people meet, her stance a lot less intimidating than the one she portrays on the field or in front of hundreds of cameras. 

“No tienes nada de que arrepentirte, mi corazón” (Nothing to be sorry for)

“I lost time in the gym and I lost time in the shower and I guess I just don’t wanna go”, the English sentence giving away how much thought she put into it. 

The catalan turns to look directly into your eyes for the first time all day, you realise. She really doesn’t want to go to this event, but your excitement and anticipation must have helped hide it throughout the week.

“Eres preciosa, mi amor” (You’re beautiful), she simply states, taking in the perfectly ironed black dress you’re wearing and the meticulously braided hair framing your face.

You smile at her, you love her.

“I know you don’t like the idea of this award, I know you don’t want us handing it to you with a carefully drafted speech”

“¡Lo escribiste!” (You wrote it, didn’t you?)

“Jana helped, all the team did”

Alexia’s eyebrow rises and you don't miss the fact she has a little bit more makeup on than usual, a sight she’s putting an effort.

“I supervised, don’t worry”

“No es reconfortante” (It’s no reassuring)

But her shoulders are relaxed, her frown no longer creasing her beautiful face. The blonde is calmer now and you take it as a victory she never actually asked you to ditch the all thing and hide together under a blanket with a mindless dating show in the background.

“Lo leerás?” (Will you read it?)

“Banned me to even come close to a microphone”, to be fair, it was a single accident and they should’ve not let the anchor’s line open when you just won a championship and your girlfriend’s literally glowing.

She bursts out laughing and you know she’s ready.

Almost ready.

“Take me the white heels while I finish esto”, her fingers moving somehow awkwardly around her mouth, “Y estamos listos!” (And we’re ready to go).

You place a soft but firm kiss on her lips, leaving for her shoes rack.

You’re looking for a pair of heels, one she hates to wear but well designed and a perfect fit with her dress. One she doesn’t wear much so it’s probably hidden in a box in the back of the closet.

That’s why you’re looking for a hidden box of shoes.

That’s where you notice a velvet little box.

That’s how you find the ring.

It’s a beautiful ring. Stunning cut, your precise size. A modest but expertly crafted gem complementing the simple band. It’s the perfect ring.

You don’t like shiny thing, Alexia could ask you to marry her with paper or grass from Camp Nou and you’re gonna say yes regardless.

But that’s exactly the problem.

You love her, you really do. You love her so much you gladly do whatever she asks, if she wants it enough to ask. You keep her love above your own and that’s fine, you’re happy with it. What she loves comes before what you love, naturally following immediately after anyway. 

And what she loves the most is usually you, so you never questioned it. 

However, when her love starts coming despite yours, you realise you can’t keep doing it.

The shift is difficult to perceive, coming at such a silent but excruciating pace that’s impossible to predict and devastating to take in.

The bomb dropped on you in the form of a tiny jewellery box that detonated when opened, shining ring inside.

“Està Narnia?” (You found Narnia?)

Closing the box and effectively concealing the ring from your gaze it’s a switch off. The silence that usually preempts a devastating explosion is coming after it, this one time.

“I’m ready!”

When she walks out of the bathroom, stunning as ever, you just stare. You never loved someone as much as you love her, that is obvious for a while now. 

You never loved and you will never love someone as much as you love her. 

Not even yourself.

“Estás bien?” (Are you okay?)

“T’estimo” (I love you)

Shining eyes almost give away all the meaning behind your words, but the captain fondly kisses you and it’s all good again.

Alexia takes the heels from your hands, when you manage to find them is not clear in your head, and sits on the bed. Your fingers intertwine as you bend on your knees and carefully tie the long white laces around her ankles.

“You good?”, she holds one of your hands and her stare is searching straight through your soul.

She has a ring hidden in a box, how long ago did she buy it?

“Let’s get you this award, mi corazón”

She wants to marry you, when will she ask?

Both your holds are firm and kind, she is calmed and ready. Now, somehow, she’s even happy to go to this event if you keep holding her hand like that.

If she asks, you will say yes.