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#probably because it was firmly established
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British Doctor Who fans every time American fans complain about the Amy intro:
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ectonurites · 6 months
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SUPER DARK TIMES (2017) DIR KEVIN PHILLIPS
#tragically had to skip the 'are you afraid of me' exchange i love at the start bc. this scene is Long#super dark times#josh templeton#zach taylor#sam edits#btw i'm firmly in the 'Josh didn't kill John' camp. bc to me THIS scene is the point that... makes the most sense as Josh's breaking point/#'villain turn' if that's what you'd want to call it. because this is really when Josh... sort of 'officially' loses Zach. from early on in#the movie it becomes clear how much Zach is like... an anchor for him—the way Josh is just fucking *chanting* his name in distress during#the Daryl accident. The way Josh begs Zach to believe him that it was an accident. The way Josh turns to Zach for answers/clarity/direction#Like even if we want to take a cynical approach and think of it as Josh just latching onto Zach in the Daryl situation because he was There#rather than that being an established thing w/ them... in the aftermath of that same incident Josh is still looking to/depending on him!#Josh self isolates at first... but after they talk & Zach tells him they shouldn't act weird Josh goes back to school. (yes#he lashes out there because He's Dealing With The Crushing Guilt but *all* of 'em are acting off then—Charlie specifically calls attention#to the idea they all probably are) Josh goes to the party just like Zach said they should and is *visibly confused* when Zach seems mad to#see him there. He goes to Zach's house to talk and you can SEE how caught off guard he is by what Zach says. Even though the script version#of this scene is VERY different from the final version I do think this one bit of description from it is... insightful: 'Josh seems sincere#almost vulnerable. But Zach is too focused to see it.' LIKE in this scene Zach is already convinced Josh has lost it! He's trying to act#more neutral about it (claiming they could just 'draw a line') but we saw his phone call with Charlie. Because of his own guilt-fueled#paranoia—something shown pretty clearly through the assorted dream sequences and like tht scene of him walking in the hall hearing people#gossip about Daryl—it seems like everything lines up too well! that '*of course* it's Josh and what if it's *been* Josh all along and well#then the role *I* played in the situation really isn't *my* fault because it was all *Josh* and...' etc. even if that's more subconscious#But like... this scene is really when it hits Josh! from the moment he asks if Zach's afraid of him now like... there's a shift. although#Zach says he isn't... i mean he fucking stumbles on the word 'afraid' (like... he hangs on the 'f' sound a moment too long to sound natural#its very subtle but like Noticeable). But Josh sees right through him. Zach doesn't trust him anymore. Zach thinks he's the bad guy. the#monster. Josh feeling like he lost the last person he had in his corner feels like the most realistic thing to... push him over the#edge. like that's a compelling tragedy to me—the idea that these two poorly coping with the Daryl situation in these separated ways where#they *aren't* talking/communicating ends up CREATING the feedback loop that makes everything get worse and worse.#But for that to be the case... it wouldn't make sense for Josh to have just randomly killed John before this scene. I think it's a more#interesting story if certain things really ARE just coincidences but it's that Zach's paranoia won't let him see that 🤷
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love-fireflysong · 2 years
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So many interesting title but this one -> mystery solving, totally catch my interest!!👀
fic folder over here buckos!
Oooooo that one! Unsurprisingly, one Ashley Brown is gonna be the main character in this fic if I ever write it lol.
The main idea behind this one is that Chris and Josh always like to try and surprise her with something for her birthday (whether it be a party or gift or whatnot) but Ashley being Ashley, she's always able to figure out what exactly that surprise is beforehand. It's like a game to her and she loves it, and is also at this point what she just considers to be part and parcel of her birthday in general now.
So when her birthday is coming up in a couple of short weeks, but Chris and Josh haven't even hinted at there being a surprise on the horizon this time? Oh you know this girl is obsessed now with figuring out what exactly these think they can try and keep secret from her.
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fairyhaos · 2 months
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◈ the worst day of the week // choi seungcheol
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seungcheol x gn!reader, 1.2k+ words
tags: requested by anon, fluff, established relationship, slight hurt/comfort, soooo domestic oof
warnings: pet names (baby), reader eats cereal at 2am
summary: everyone has days where they don't want to go to work. for you, it happens every monday, but fortunately, you have a lovely boyfriend who will do anything to make you smile, even on your worst days.
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“What are you doing?”
You flinch at the stern words that sound over your shoulder, and pause with your hand held midair. You can't turn around, frozen in place. 
“Um.” You swallow nervously. “Nothing?”
There's a tense silence, and you can hear your heartbeat thrumming in your ears as you breathe slowly, too afraid to make any more noise. The person is still standing behind you, a looming presence, and maybe, if you hold still for long enough, then they might end up going away—
Seungcheol sighs, and walks around the kitchen table until he's facing you. “Y/N. What are you doing?”
Your shoulders slump as your boyfriend's face comes into view, his hair all sleep-mussed and his eyes droopy with drowsiness. But his gaze is focused on you, the disapproving turn of his lips clear even in the faint light provided by the lamp in the corner of the kitchen. 
Weakly, you attempt a smile. “I'm having a bowl of cereal?”
Seungcheol blinks. A long, slow, unimpressed blink. “You're having a bowl of cereal at two in the morning?”
“Yeah. It's like… the new ‘it’ thing. Everyone's doing it.”
He raises an eyebrow. You slowly shove another spoonful of cereal into your mouth.
“No, they're not,” Seungcheol says, and with a sigh, tries to reach over and pull the bowl away from you. “Y/N, baby—”
“Hey, no, don't take my cereal away,” you protest, grappling for the cereal and tugging it towards you before he can take it away. Seungcheol frowns disapprovingly, and you wilt a little. “It'll go all soggy if I don't have it now. I need to eat it.”
“You need to sleep,” he returns firmly, and then sighs again. “Y/N, it's two in the morning, and you have work later. Why are you awake, and eating cereal? You don't even like this kind of cereal.”
He's right, and you don't, because it's the tasteless variety that grates irritatingly against your gums but you just needed something to do, because it's a Monday tomorrow and it's literally the worst day of the week and you don't want Monday to come. 
Well. Technically, it's already Monday. But thinking about it like that makes you feel even more terrible, the little worms digging even uglier holes into your stomach, and you grimace. 
So that's why you're awake now, shoving tasteless, soggy cereal into your mouth because you don't want to go to bed. 
Seungcheol regards you with sad eyes, like he knows exactly what you're thinking.
Knowing him, you think sulkily, he probably really does.
He doesn’t say anything, though, and just continues watching you with those sad eyes as you slowly eat your cereal. His gaze makes you feel strangely guilty, heart twisting weirdly in your chest as you eat, feeling like you’re doing something wrong.
By the time you finish, your boyfriend still hasn’t said a word, but he does pinch your cheek fondly and take the bowl from you once you set down your spoon.
“Do you want to talk about it?” he asks, and he's looking at you with those big, earnest eyes, the sincerity and warmth making his gaze meltingly soft even in the darkness of the room. When you hesitate to answer, his eyes seem to melt even more. “Do you want a hug?”
And oh, there's something about the way he says it that makes you begin to tear up, feeling so overwhelmingly comforted by his voice. 
“Oh, baby…”
Before you know it, he's gotten up from the table, walked over to you, pulled your chair back and enveloped you in a hug. 
He's wearing one of his oversized hoodies, and the material is soft under your fingers as you cling to his shoulders, burying yourself into the crook of his neck as he holds you securely. He just smells so much like him, all gentle and kind and willing to be there for you and all your worries and fears about the dreaded day ahead of you make you dissolve, kitten-weak, into his arms. 
“Shh, don't worry baby,” Seungcheol murmurs, still bent over you, hands rubbing secure circles into your back as you cry. “Don't worry. It's okay, shhh, don't cry, I'm here. I'm here for you.”
It only makes you cry harder, hearing the care in his voice, but Seungcheol doesn't seem to mind. He stays over you, hugging you, until your tears begin to subside, and then he helps you out of the uncomfortable kitchen chair, one hand around your waist and the other keeping your fingers interlaced with his own as he guides you out and up the stairs, back to your room again. 
He's gentle, the entire way, whispering words of comfort and pressing reassuring kisses to your temple as he helps you up the stairs. 
“There we go, that's it, I love you,” he says softly, when you make it up the final step. He squeezes your hand, once. “I love you.”
He's babying you, even more than his normal boyfriend-level of Doting™, but you can't even bring yourself to feel embarrassed about it, more focused on how nice it feels to be held by him, to be treated so delicately. And even when your nose is still running and your eyes feel all horribly swollen, Seungcheol still calls you beautiful, still says he loves you. 
“Here we are,” he says, smiling, as he tucks you into bed before moving round to the other side to climb in himself. “Rest, baby. You need to sleep now.”
You mumble something, incoherent even to yourself. Seungcheol just chuckles softly, pressing another kiss to your temple. 
“Rest,” he repeats, the word warm against your cheek as he kisses you again. “I love you.”
“Love you too,” you say, a little drowsy. A beat. “Still don't wanna go to work t'morrow.”
Seungcheol chuckles again. “I know, baby. But I'll be here when you come back home, you know? You won't be at work forever. I promise.”
“Mhm. Feels like forever, though.”
“Maybe.” Seungcheol is silent for a moment, thoughtful. “How about this. After work tomorrow, we'll go out on a date.”
You look over at him. “A date? On a Monday?”
“Just a small one,” Seungcheol says, and you can see his mildly embarrassed smile, even in the dimness of the room. “It'll give you something to look forward to, no?”
It certainly would. You can't help but smile, a blush creeping up on your cheeks because he just somehow makes you feel so loved even when he's smiling bashfully at 2am on the absolutely worst day of the entire week. 
“Yeah,” you say, and roll over to snuggle into him, rubbing at your swollen eyes until they feel a little better, relaxing into him with a contented sigh. “Thank you, Cheol.”
“Of course, baby,” Seungcheol says, and then presses another kiss to the top of your head, gathering you in his arms. 
You look up at him, and with your eyes, you trace the adoration on his face even in the darkness. You smile. 
“I love you.”
Seungcheol squeezes you against him, and kisses your forehead yet again, his lips as warm and soft as the gentlest of promises.
“I love you too.”
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fics tags: @jeonginssa @weird-bookworm @minhui896 @slytherinshua @haowrld @belladaises @moonlitskiiies @mirxzii @zozojella @kawennote09 @thedensworld @a-wandering-stay @abibliolife @doublasting @wonranghaeee @icyminghao @sweet-like-caramel @your-yxnnie @odxrilove @kyeomyun @crackedpumpkin @jeonride @kellesvt @sakufilms @eightlightstar @onlyyjeonghan @aaniag @amxlia-stars @raevyng @isabellah29 @kikohao
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alwaysmoncheri · 2 months
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hello! I hope you’re doing good! I would like to request a fic with tasm!peter parker or james potter if you prefer, but something where they’re making out and the reader ends up breaking his glasses? If that makes sense🫣
hi, my darling, i’m am doing very well! thank you for requesting, that makes complete sense! I’m totally watching tasm again after writing this <3
cw: fem!reader, making out, slightly suggestive (but not really), aunt may walking in, established relationship, fluff, 1.2k
<3
Peter’s mouth is on your neck while the bridge of his glasses rubs against the skin just an inch higher than his mouth. His hands stay firmly planted on your hips as you sit in his lap on his swivel chair. Your textbook and computer lay abandoned next to his on his desk in front of you.
“Peter, I have to study,” you mumble, but the sigh that escapes your lips makes your excuse less believable, “We have to study.” you add, trying you best to get yourself and peter back on track for a big exam tomorrow. Crazy for Peter or not, this test is important and you need to get a little studying in, but you can’t get Peter to keep his hands off you.
“No, we don’t.” Peter replies quickly, before biting your neck, causing you to let out squeak.
“Peter,” you practically whine, and the chuckle that falls from Peter’s mouth vibrates onto your neck, causing you to squirm in his lap. When Peter lifts his head from your neck, you’re pouting. Lips jutted out and eyebrows pinched together with pleading eyes. Oh, Peter could die right here with you in his arms. He pulls you closer, biceps and hands pressed into your sides and forearms into your stomach.
“You’re going to be fine,” Peter offers gently, pressing a much softer kiss to your cheek, allowing you to release the tension from your face, “You’ve studied plenty already.”
“But–”
“No, buts,” Peter shuts you down, gently rubbing your sides in an attempt to silence your worries. He wants to kiss you so bad, but he would never do it without your permission. And if you want to study, he’ll let you, but he doesn’t think you really do, “Kiss me?”
Peter hears you release a long, dramatic, sigh before shifting yourself in his lap so that you’re straddling him, his hands now stabilizing you by your waist. For a moment your face is expressionless and Peter can’t read you. He worries that you’re unhappy with him but when he sees a giddy smile creep onto your face, he instantly reciprocates and his worries melt away.
You lock your hands around Peter’s neck before leaning in to kiss him. At first, you kiss him softly, tenderly just because you love him. But when you lightly tug on Peter’s hair at the nape of his neck, he takes it as a sign to tug on your hips, pulling you flush against his chest and deepen the kiss. But when the bridge of you nose knocks into Peter’s glasses, you groan in momentary pain, causing his eyes to widen, hand reaching up to gently hold your cheek, the action asking if you’re okay. When you nod your head and meet his gaze, you notice his concern before it’s quickly replaced with frustration. Peter quickly tears his glasses on his face and tosses them towards his bed without sparing a glance in that direction. But when a soft crack echos from across the room, you snap your gaze towards the glasses that now lay broken at the bridge on the floor.
“Peter!” You gasp, shifting your gaze between him and the broken glasses, but no concern seems to be etched on his face.
“Don’t worry, I can get new ones,” Peter assures you, kissing the corners of your lips while his nose delicately brushes the apples of your cheeks, “I just wanna kiss you.” Peter whispers and you feel a rush of warmth spread across your face at his tone.
“Aunt May isn’t going to be happy.” You state, nervously glancing towards the door that Peter probably forgot to lock again.
“Shush, less talking, baby,” Oh god, you melt completely at the way his says baby and presses his finger to your mouth, before replacing it with his lips, “More kissing.” He adds in between a few quick, hard, presses of his lips on yours.
“Oh whatev—hmph!”
Peter kisses you long and hard, successfully getting you to stop talking. You feel hot all over when he kisses you again and again. And when you rank your fingers through his hair, lightly tugging on the ends, while simultaneously gently biting his bottom lip, Peter makes a sound between a gasp and a groan that makes you want to do it again just so you can hear the sound once more. There’s a kiss, another, and another, you’re so caught up in the feeling of his mouth against yours, carefully sliding your hands up and down his chest before lightly gripping a fist full of his shirt to keep him near you.
The way Peter touches you is like muscle memory, he knows how to make you gasp and what makes you shiver. When, his hands slip under the material of your shirt and caress your skin, your body reacts exactly how he knows it always does. Then, he lifts you up, your legs wrap around his waist, and with his lips still on yours, he gently lowers the both of you onto his bed. He seems so far away now and you can’t handle it. Before he even has the chance to lower himself further down onto the bed, you grab his biceps, which are tensed from holding himself up, and tug him towards you. Peter practically falls and suddenly the weight of his whole body is on top of you, Peter worries for a moment, breaking the kiss, but you make a noise, reminiscent to a childish whine before grabbing his jaw with both of you hands and pulling him back. With his lips on yours, his tongue slides into your mouth while your thumbs trace the outline of his jaw and his hand slides behind you back and into your shirt.
“Hey, do you two know where—Oh my goodness!” You and Peter are quickly pulled apart, turning your heads in the direction of Aunt May’s loud gasp. She stands just outside the bedroom with one hand still on the doorknob, her expression loudly displaying her shock. Peter stays on top of you for a split second, before May’s gaze shifts between his hand in your shirt and both of your disheveled appearances, “Peter Benjamin Parker!”
With that, Peter immediately jumps up from on top of you, quickly grabbing your hand to stand next to him. Both of your faces are flushed red from being caught, even if all you were doing was kissing. Aunt May stands by the door, both of her hands placed firmly on her hips, presumably awaiting a reasonable response while you and Peter glance at each other in search of something to say. When Peter’s gaze returns to his aunt, he finally opens his mouth to speak.
“Aunt May—We were just—” Peter pauses as he stumbles over his words, feeling pathetic under the eyes of both you and his aunt.
“Studying.” You finish with a somewhat convincing smile and when Aunt May turns to you, her gaze softens, but when she notices the broken glasses laying forgotten on the floor behind you, her questioning expression returns.
“And what happened to your glasses?” Aunt May asks, a triumphant smile crossing her face as she knows she’s caught the two of you red-handed in your obvious lie, “Were you studying when that happened?”
You and Peter hesitate, he sends you a nervous smile and the both of you bite your tongues, not trusting yourselves to speak. After a moment, the two of you nod, heads hanging low.
“Mhm, right,” May hums before sending Peter a look that says, ‘we’ll talk later.’ Then, she takes a few steps into the room, causing you and Peter’s eyes to widen, but May only steps around you to pick up the broken glasses before walking back towards the door, “Well, dinner is almost ready, you two better behave.”
“Okay, yeah, thank you, May.” Peter says, and you can tell he’s beyond flustered by the situation as he runs a hand through his hair, then brushes a finger along his bottom lip, “We’ll be down soon.”
May nods before sending the both of you one final look, this one a little more playful than the rest. She exits the bedroom and closes the door behind her, leaving you and Peter alone once again.
The both of you share a glance before breaking out in a fit of laughter. Peter falls back onto the bed, tugging you down with his so that you’re laying on his chest.
“I told you she’d be mad.” You tease, running your hand up his chest, eventually reaching the back of his neck, while leaving a gentle kiss on his jaw.
“It was so worth it.” Peter smirks before flipping you over and kissing your face
<3
masterlist . tasm!peter parker masterlist . taglist
thank you for reading, my darling! remember to like! reblog! and comment! i’ll give you a smooch if you do, ily! send requests to my inbox!
tags: @googie-jeon, @Kevia1000, @annoyingmidgetwhowrites, @averyhotchner, @marauderswhxre, @vixparker
alwaysmoncheri © ─ all rights reserved. please do not repost/translate/copy any of my work.
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caligvlasaqvarivm · 3 months
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Murder, Love, and Destiny: An Eridan Ampora Character Study
Warnings for things from Homestuck, like discussions of child abuse, mental illness, murder, suicide, etc. etc.
Because there's a huge wall of text after this point, I'm going to summarize what I hope to convince you of in bullet point format, and then hope you'll actually read the rest of the text before arguing with me about it.
Eridan is the least casteist highblood, if you ignore all the slurs.
Those are his emotional support slurs.
Pale EriKar was not only canon, but set up to be endgame.
Eridan is incredibly plot-relevant, thematically relevant, and was definitely originally intended to be brought back to life, alongside the other dead trolls.
He's Sad.
The first thing we have to establish is what counts as "canon" for the purpose of this essay. I am only counting the original comic up to Game Over, after which there's a general consensus that Hussie kind of gave up on his original planned ending, and slapped together something that most people hate. So I am immediately disqualifying Pesterquest, supplementary material, fanworks deemed canon, the epilogues, and Homestuck^2.
Moreover, we are taking Hussie's commentaries with a grain of salt, for two reasons. The first reason is that I firmly believe - and will be arguing - that the original plan was to bring Eridan (and the other dead trolls) back; therefore, Hussie (who has a track record of playing coy with future plot twists) can't speak too fondly of him, lest he give it away. The second reason for de-emphasizing Hussie's words is that, post-retcon, Hussie isn't very well going to say that he had plans for a better ending, and then didn't execute on them; to save face, he has to act as though his trashing of several prior plot threads, including but not limited to Eridan, was the plan all along.
Therefore, this essay will not be putting too much emphasis on Word of God, and will instead be relying on textual evidence from the comic itself, of which there is plenty. So without further ado:
Eridan is a Consummate Murderer.
The reason I'm starting with this point is that, far more than any other, this truth lies at the core of his being. Eridan is formally introduced to us with a murder, and he's haunted by an overpowering genocide complex. He outright describes to Rose at one point that "killin is all i evver done practically," and uses "murder" as an expletive (ie "swweet stinkin murder"). With a conservative estimate of 5 kills per week for 4 sweeps (Vriska looks VERY young when she has to start killing, and Eridan was likely a similar age when he began), both Eridan and Vriska easily have bodycounts above 2000 - the real number is probably even higher.
At this point, many raise an objection that Eridan is only killing lusii, but I believe we need to count his kills as troll murders, for three reasons: first, a dead lusus results in the orphaned troll being culled; second, one has to assume he has had cases of trolls trying to defend their lusii, or coming after him for vengeance; and third - and most importantly - Eridan HIMSELF is thinking about the orphaned trolls.
Compare Feferi: Go Home:
That should keep her happy for a while. At least until she dies.
To Eridan: Go Home:
That should keep her happy for a while. And make a freshly orphaned troll somewhere very sad.
So Eridan, to a much greater extent than even Feferi, is thinking about the orphaned trolls he's leaving behind, and considers his own actions to be murder.
Now that we've established the facts regarding his murders - a rough bodycount, and the fact that, by his own admission, he barely had any hobbies outside of it - we can move on to the effect that it's had on him. It's not very good!
Vriska's manipul8tions and murders had to be done for her own sake - if she ever stopped, she died. Therefore, much of Vriska's personality revolves around justifying her own actions so she doesn't have to reckon with her softer feelings, like guilt or kindness - which she expresses would be viewed as scandalous by others of her caste.
But if Eridan ever stops feeding Gl'bgolyb, everybody dies. The stakes he has riding on his shoulders are, at all times, the fate of all trolls, including all his friends. Given Dualscar's title was "Orphaner," it's implied that killing lusii for Gl'bgolyb has always been a violet blood's duty, and is seen as such by the others, which is why nobody expresses gratitude for his hard work even a single time.
Which brings us to our next point:
Eridan is Crushed by Anxiety.
If Eridan stops killing lusii, everybody - especially his friends, but everybody else, too - dies.
If Eridan ever shows guilt or kindness, he'll be considered "weak" by the standards of highbloods - he shares this with Vriska.
Eridan is expected, by aristocratic tradition, to take on the mantle of his ancestor Dualscar and finish his work. Dualscar met a comedically cringefail end, so this is a massive undertaking.
Before finding out that god tiering is an option - so, for nearly his entire life - Eridan has had to live with the expectation that he will outlive all of his friends. The lowbloods from culling or dying on the battlefield, the highbloods from old age, and Feferi from being killed by the Empress when she gets old enough.
(This is reflected in who he talks to the most - Feferi, who's the only one with a natural lifespan longer than his, Vriska, who's a highblood, Kanaya, who's practically guaranteed to survive into adulthood, and Karkat, whose anonblood allows Eridan to give him the benefit of the doubt.)
Also if he can't land his concupiscent quadrants he'll die from that too, but that seems pretty secondary to the rest of his concerns.
He can't even make friends with the other highbloods, because sea dwellers are expected to hate and antagonize them.
He had a free ticket into adulthood, but would almost certainly be expected to join the army and serve as a commander. That is to say, his fate of performing the role of a vicious, murderous sea dweller seems dreadfully inevitable to him.
NO WONDER he can't stop having emotional breakdowns. NO WONDER his chatlogs swing wildly from relentless self-aggrandizement to traumadumping. NO WONDER he's obsessed with murder and death and genocide.
Doc Scratch calls him a "vengeful boy on the path of nihilism," and it's not hard to see why: Eridan's entire life has been about living up to the role imposed on him by society, sacrificing his own time and sanity for everyone else, which he "nevver got any appreciation for anywway." And all he had to look forward to was more of the same, all his friends dropping dead one by one before him. For Eridan, there has never been any hope.
SGRUB could have been a way out for him, but a combination of his own terrible choices, spurred on by his anxieties, and his teammates' unwillingness to knock some sense into him, meant that he only wound up mired even deeper in his hopelessness.
We all know about how Eridan wouldn't stop killing the angels on his planet, provoking their aggression and turning it into a ball of death. How he was definitely not supposed to be doing this, and how his stubborn insistence on it led to his further ostracization from the rest of the group. The thing is, when we look at his angel-murders from the point of view that Eridan's entire life has been about murdering things or else Something Bad™ happens, it actually starts to become... kind of sad.
KARKAT: BETWEEN A TRIGGERHAPPY PRINCE WITH A GOD WEAPON BLASTING ANYTHING THAT TWITCHED AND A MILLION CRAZED ANGELS HE DELIBERATELY ENRAGED, IT WASN'T WHAT I'D CALL AN IDEAL SOCIAL HUB. KARKAT: IF YOU WERE LONELY WHY DIDN'T YOU VENTURE OUT MORE OFTEN? ERIDAN: wwell i wwoulda but nobody else wwas vvolunteerin to pick up the slack on angel killin duties
Killing the angels is something he feels like his has to do, because his entire life has been about killing things he doesn't want to kill. He's unable to break out of that mindset on his own, and his unpleasant personality has scared off anyone who might want to help. No one on the team tries to understand his thought process on a deeper level, not even Karkat, who just tells him it was an idiotic thing to do without addressing his underlying anxieties at all. Indeed, "nobody understands."
And this is really the root of why I think so many people get the wrong read on Eridan - Eridan is constantly contradicting himself, constantly denying his own feelings, constantly pushing an image that he doesn't actually believe in, and constantly insisting that he's fine with all the horrible shit in his life - that he likes it, even. After all, he can't admit to his guilt for his murders, or how much he doesn't want to watch his friends die, or how scared he is about the future - that'd be weakness!
CC: I can't look after you anymore. CA: I DIDNT EVER NEED ANYONE TO LOOK AFTER ME CA: i was totally fuckin fine my ambitions were noble
You see his contradictory nature with his stated love of history, which he only ever offhandedly mentions - because he's not actually that interested in history, it's just something that's expected of someone of his station. And you see it with his wavy accent, which he himself calls "weird" and drops when he's trying to be emotionally sincere. And you see it with his dumbass outfit, which is very clearly an imitation of Dualscar (with the only exception being the wizard-ass scarf, because wizards are his actual interest. I don't believe he likes fashion. I genuinely believe - and Eridan himself says so - that he basically has no hobbies outside of murder).
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Even being proud to be a sea dweller is pretty much an outright lie:
CC: You can't )(ave t)(e sort of affinity for "our kind" t)(at you profess if you've only spent, w)(at... CC: A few days underwater, maybe? IN YOUR W)(OL-E LIF-E!
One that he tells because he's SCARED OF THE OCEAN. Because he knows what lives in the ocean, because he's been feeding it his entire life. I see a lot of people who give Eridan an interest in marine life, and I'm telling you, that's just got no basis in canon. He's fucking TERRIFIED of the sea.
And for that matter, land dweller genocide. Eridan doesn't want to do it. Both Feferi AND his internal narration call him out for not actually wanting to do it. He outright states he wouldn't kill his friends.
CA: wwell CA: im not goin to vvery wwell kill you am i that wwould be fuckin unconscionable CA: wwhat kind of friend wwould i be
But he feels like he HAS to want it, HAS to believe in it, HAS to be talking about it constantly, because that's what's expected from him as a sea dweller, and a sea dweller is ALL that he will get to be. The mutation that puts a violet streak in his hair is damning. It's a fate he feels like he can't escape. Which brings us to:
Eridan is Not Actually Casteist, Well He Is But Not Like That, It's Complicated
Secondary title: Those Are His Emotional Support Slurs, Okay
In the exact same vein (haha) as secretly not wanting all the land dwellers dead, Eridan also genuinely doesn't feel like he's better than lower blood castes. Vriska and Equius obviously put quite a bit of stock into being nobility, and both have acted superior to Karkat for it. Feferi actually revels in her high status, and while she is genuinely well-meaning, she's not as interested in abolishing casteism as she is in changing the meaning of "culling" specifically (the hemocaste, aristocracy, and casteism still very much exist in a Beforus under her rule). Gamzee MIGHT be the only highblood less casteist than Eridan, but then again, as soon as he snaps, he does say a lot of casteist stuff to Equius, although it's unclear how serious he is, and he also proceeds to get really into his weird highblood clown cult.
Meanwhile, Eridan - despite all his slurs and talk of genocide - does not actually try to "pull rank" on a lowblood for being a lower caste than him with a single exception. That exception is Sollux... after he's already shown having entirely caste-neutral opinions on Sollux:
CC: But Sollux finally came t)(roug)(, and now I believe t)(e full c)(ain is complete! CA: man that guy CA: hes a fuckin drama machine it is fuckin pathetic CC: YOUR STUPID FIS)(Y FAC-E IS T)(-E DRAMA MAC)(IN-E T)(AT DO-ES NOT)(ING BUT W)(IN-E AND GLUB. CC: 38P CA: fuck SORRY CC: Anyway you s)(ouldn't say t)(at about )(im, )(e is a )(ero and )(e saved my life. CA: yeah sorry
CA: my feelins seem petty and meaninless noww CA: she had better things to wworry about than my ovverwwrought bullshit CA: like the dead guy wwho savved her CA: so forget it thanks anywway
It's only AFTER he's mad at Sollux for dating Feferi that he starts going in on Sollux with casteist rhetoric... which is treated as unrequited flirting and not serious casteism:
ERIDAN: hey finless this doesnt concern those wwith mustard sludge slippin through their vveins ERIDAN: its a matter for royalty only ERIDAN: so keep your mouth closed or ill slit you open ovver my next meal SOLLUX: w/e bro, not iintere2ted. FEFERI: -Eridan, please! I don't want to see any more dueling. FEFERI: Don't try to provoke )(im. It's not like I don't know w)(at you're doing! You keep trying to spark a rivalry wit)( )(im to get me to auspisticize between you two, and pull us out of our quadrant! FEFERI: It is t)(e oldest and lamest trick in t)(e book. It didn't work t)(en and it won't work now!
THEY don't even think he's being casteist.
In fact, directly contradicting this earlier argument he has with Feferi:
CC: T)(is is t)(e last time I will say t)(is. CC: W-E AR-E NOT B-ETT-ER T)(AN ANYBODY!!!!! CC: GLUB. >38( CA: pshh CA: hemospectrum begs to differ
He OUTRIGHT states his real feelings here:
CA: im the biggest fuckin idiot who ever lived CA: i cant BELIEVE i just opened up to you like a chump when i knew what was comin CA: i am one sad fuckin brinesucker CA: overemotional sappy trash youre right im not better than anybody CA: im worse than anybody CA: EVERYBODY CA: all the bodies
So the question of "is Eridan casteist" has an answer of "kind of, but also no." Eridan DOES espouse the rhetoric; he's constantly saying stuff that a casteist sea dweller "should" be saying. However, if you look at his ACTIONS, and the way he actually treats people, he doesn't actually care about blood color. He'll hit on anybody, and he's rude as fuck to everybody. The real problem with him is that he's terrible to talk to, not that he's discriminatory.
That's the thing about Eridan. Understanding him means looking past the way he presents himself, the lies he tells to himself, and even, at times, the way the narration presents him. His "overblown emotional theatrics" seem a lot less overblown when his problems ARE so real, deep-seated, and constantly causing him an unimaginable amount of anguish.
The problem is, the main people he has to bounce those problems against are Feferi, Vriska, and Kanaya, three of the people most comfortable with their privileged positions, for whom Eridan's genuine emotional distress seems like needless melodrama. Feferi loves being a princess, Vriska enjoys her noble privileges, Kanaya doesn't need to worry about culling. But for Eridan, his noble status, and the duties and expectations placed on him for it, have caused him nothing but pain - of course he would feel like nobody understands. Most of his closest friends genuinely don't, nor do they try to.
Because that's what he is at his core - a traumatized fucking child, who doesn't see any way out. Eridan is not a casteist genocidal sea dweller... he just wishes he was one, and tries to be one, because if he actually was one, he wouldn't feel so awful and scared and sad all the time. He'd be normal, like his friends.
The reason he constantly spouts anti-land dweller rhetoric and uses casteist language is to assuage this cognitive dissonance. That's why he has to come off so strong, present himself in such an aggrandized way, act like such a douchebag. They're his emotional support slurs. He doesn't actually believe what he says, which means he's a Bad Sea Dweller, which means he's Failing, which means Something Bad Will Happen, so he'd better get his ass in line and say something casteist!
And it's all made worse because:
Eridan is Dumb of Ass (and True of Word)
Oh my god you guys he's so stupid that it hurts.
Okay, that's not entirely fair. Eridan is clearly well-educated and book smart; he has some of the most elegant prose out of the trolls, and he's prone to going off on insane rants with it. (Actually, his language gets more flowery and showy when he's trying to impress a stranger, and gets progressively more laid back, chill, and even kind of "bro"-y when he starts talking to people he doesn't feel like he needs to impress.)
CA: at this point i find all her adorable black pixie dabblins to be prime kiddie playtime shit CA: all of her FRAUDULENT MAGICS cannot come close to posin threat to my mastery ovver the TRUEST SCIENCES CA: an wwith my empiricists wwand i servve as the righteous hope that wwill incinerate delusion and the deluded alike CA: my holy fire is the wwhite fury bled from the wwrath-wweary eyes of fifty thousand nonfictional angels CA: and wwhen theyre finished wweepin they wwill boww before their prince GG: wow what are you talking about
What I mean is this: his brain is so full of anxiety and cognitive dissonance and murder and death that he struggles to care about other people, which has devastating effects on his social skills. I go really in-depth on how his though process informs his behavior here. The question may have popped up in your mind already: if his casteism stuff isn't actually real, then what is Eridan actually like? The answer is, overwhelmingly, and discomfortingly, SINCERE.
This boy is gunning at 100% emotional earnestness 100% of the time, and it's deeply uncomfortable for others to deal with. He'll swing wildly from insults and derogatory language, to stating a desire to kill all land dwellers, to awe and amazement at his friends' prowess, to demanding that they do things for him, to traumadumping and venting, without missing a beat. Often in the same conversation.
CA: kan its hard GA: What CA: being a kid and growwing up CA: its hard and nobody understands
He's also specifically terrible at parsing hostility. Functionally, he interprets all hostility aimed AT him as either pitch/ashen flirting or "ironic repartee," and similarly views his own hostile words as verbal jousting, pitch/ashen advances, or even just factual descriptions of the world around him (ie calling Nepeta a "kittycat shipper cavve girl"). Hostility and aggression are just kind of his baseline, default state of being, and he basically has no ability to differentiate between good and bad attention. I talk more in-depth about his emotionally bereft upbringing (and shitty lusus) here, but suffice to say that our boy isn't getting any emotional support at home, and as a result, craves attention, no matter what kind.
This also means he's insanely gullible. For example, Rose calls him an idiot to his face, and then blows up his computer, sarcastically calling it "your first lesson in showmanship." Eridan proceeds to literally considers it that, blowing up Jade's computer after he's done talking to her. Furthermore, Kanaya sees him as a burden, insults him to his face, and pretty much just bullies him along with Rose for fun.
So she trains Eridan to become a powerful white wizard of hope to challenge her, as a joke.
And yet, in spite of all that, Eridan still has nothing but gratitude and praise for Kanaya:
ERIDAN: kan i been meanin to thank you KANAYA: For What ERIDAN: for all that trainin you did ERIDAN: i wwouldnt be the incredible holy wwizard i am noww wwithout your help KANAYA: But I Didnt Even Really Train You I Just Made You A Wand ERIDAN: yeah wwell thats all i needed i guess ERIDAN: i just needed for someone to showw a little faith in me so im sayin thanks i owwe ya KANAYA: Okay Then Youre Welcome KANAYA: I Hope You Use Your Magnificent Powers Of Light And Hope For Goodness And Purity And Lets Not Forget Science ERIDAN: dont wworry im all ovver that shit you dont evven knoww KANAYA: Uh Oh I Hope That Didnt Come Off As Too Sarcastic ERIDAN: wwhat KANAYA: The Thing I Just Said KANAYA: I Didnt Even Realize How Sarcastic I Was Being Its Starting To Become A Problem I Think KANAYA: Please Dont Take Too Much Offense ERIDAN: haha damn kan if thats your idea of offense bein made then i honestly gotta fuckin wworry for you ERIDAN: tell you wwhat ill givve you some lessons in dealin out the dark umbrage to repay you for your tutelage in the wwhite science
Like, he's in the middle of genuinely thanking her for believing in him, she makes fun of him to his face, and his response is to laugh it off and offer to teach her how to properly insult someone. It's honestly... kind of sad. Not that he doesn't deserve the ridicule, but what we're seeing here is a traumatized, emotionally neglected boy trying to communicate the best that he can that he loves and appreciates his friends, and receiving nothing but mockery in return.
It's really not a surprise, then, that he goes off the deep end. His entire life prior to the game has been shit; he got broken up with as soon as he entered the game (by someone who didn't even care enough not to use fish puns while doing it); he's ostracized and avoided for the game's duration; and then he spends the rest of his time on the meteor being bullied. He feels deeply hopeless and anxious about their situation because he literally doesn't know how else to exist, and his concerns are dismissed and mocked at every turn. When Feferi turns on him with intent to kill, that's his breaking point.
I see a lot of people say he goes grimdark, or succumbs to external influence somehow, but I don't think that needs to be true (nor is it) - he's just a deeply traumatized kid with almost no support network who's finally been pushed to the edge, despite displaying every possible warning sign and making multiple cries for help. Yes, ultimately, he's guilty for his own actions, but his killing spree - alongside Gamzee's and Vriska's - represents a cohesive failure as a team to address very clear problems in their midst.
So Feferi and Kanaya are sick of his ass. Sollux hates him platonically, Equius doesn't like him, and Nepeta thinks of him as a creep. Vriska is his awkward ex, and Terezi agrees with him when he calls himself pathetic. He never interacts with Tavros, Aradia, or sober!Gamzee. Is there anyone that treats him nicely?
Uh, okay, so I swear this isn't shipping goggles -
Pale EriKar Is Canon And I Can Prove It
So, I'm going to start this with a disclaimer: you can ship what you want to ship. I don't mind. I don't care. Headcanons are valid, death of the author, etc. What you do in your free time is up to you.
What I am attempting to argue in this section is that an Eridan/Karkat moirallegiance was heavily foreshadowed, one of the most heavily foreshadowed things in the entire comic, and - assuming that the original ending of Homestuck included all the dead trolls being brought back and redeemed - was going to be endgame. There's a torrential amount of evidence pointing to this, and very little of it is acknowledged even by the EriKar shippers, which is a shame.
At the very least, I'll be happy if I can convince some Karkat RPers to be extra nice to Eridans, because they are actually just friends who care deeply about each other. Canonically.
The first thing to note is that Eridan and Karkat, at least prior to SGRUB, talk all the time, to the point where Feferi feels the need to comment on it:
CC: You know, I'm not sure w)(y we never talk about our romantic aspirations. CC: We s)(ould more often. It is kind of -EXCITING! CA: shrug CC: Probably because you fill your gossip quota wit)( your nubby )(orned bro. CC: You leave not)(ing left to talk about wit)( your dear sweet moirail! CC: We are supposed to )(elp eac)( ot)(er wit)( t)(at stuff too, remember. CA: maybe CA: seems kinda CA: odd though
("Can you please stop having an emotional affair with Karkat" "Eh, I'll think about it")
The second thing to note is what the contents of those conversations entail. Sure, they "gossip," but it goes deeper than that, because they gossip about things that Karkat would NEVER gossip about with anybody else, because Karkat usually respects his "VERY GOOD FRIEND"s. For example, here Eridan mentions that Karkat has speculated on Kanaya's love life with him:
CA: you dont wwant to be our auspistice cause you dont wwant to get locked into that sort of relation wwith her i can respect that GA: No Thats Not It CA: yeah it is your real feelins run pretty awwful RUDDY methinks evverybody knowws it CA: especially that assblood karkat he and me havve you so pegged about that its upright silly
And it's not even a one-off thing, because here Karkat is again, mentioning Nepeta's crush on him:
KARKAT: OK, BUT TO BE FAIR, I'M PRETTY SURE SHE'S STILL OBSESSED WITH ME. KARKAT: IT'S A VERY UNFORTUNATE, VERY RED AND VERY UNREQUITED SITUATION I'VE BEEN TRYING TO TIPTOE AROUND FOR A LONG TIME, OK? KARKAT: HER DISINTEREST IN YOUR ADVANCE WASN'T A REFLECTION ON YOU AT ALL. KARKAT: COME ON, WE TALKED ABOUT THIS.
It's a situation he's been trying to "tiptoe around for a long time," and he tells ERIDAN, of all people? MULTIPLE TIMES? (AND HE ALSO TELLS ERIDAN THAT THE REJECTION WASN'T HIS FAULT???? WHAT??????)
So we've established that they talk frequently and about some pretty seriously sensitive topics. But did you know that they also talk about... their feelings?
See, the thing is, Karkat has always been weirdly nice to Eridan. Here he is in a memo near the very beginning of their game, when Karkat is at his most "rah rah, I'm the big bad leader":
FCA: i got a problem FCA: wwith feferi FCA: and im really kinda sittin here in bad shape about it emotionally speakin CCG: OK, WELL CCG: I GET THAT, I HEAR YOU BRO CCG: BUT THIS IS STILL NOT THE RIGHT PLACE FOR THIS SO I'VE GOT TO BAN YOU. CCG banned FCA from responding to memo. CCG: BUT SERIOUSLY JUST GET IN TOUCH WITH ME IN PRIVATE ABOUT IT, OK MAN? CCG: WE'LL GET YOUR SHIT STRAIGHTENED OUT.
Compare that to Tavros asking for advice later down in the same memo:
PAT: sINCE i DON'T KNOW WHERE YOU ARE NOW, bUT MAYBE HELP ME, PAT: aBOUT A THING THAT HAS TO DO WITH A GIRL, PAT: lIKE, PAT: a ROMANCE THING, yOU MIGHT KNOW ABOUT, CCG: YOU PEOPLE ARE IMBECILES. CCG: ALL OF YOU. CCG: I AM NOT POSTING THESE MEMOS TO COUNSEL YOU ON YOUR PAST AND FUTURE DATING PROBLEMS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! CCG: WHY ARE YOU ALL SUCH BASKET CASES. I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHAT TO SAY ANYMORE. PAT: sORRY, CCG: SHOULD I BAN YOU? WHAT'S EVEN THE POINT ANYMORE! ONE OF YOU STOOGES WILL BE RIGHT ON THE LAST ONES HEELS WITH ANOTHER SOB STORY. CCG: JUST CCG: HURRY UP AND TELL ME WHAT YOUR PROBLEM IS BRO.
He then proceeds to dispense no actual love advice; he just points out that Vriska can totally read this memo too, and then mocks them both when she shows up - thus making it clear that he is giving Eridan special treatment.
You see it again in his discussion with Eridan in [S] Kanaya: Return to the Core, where Eridan invokes a "pact" between them, and Karkat immediately plays nice with him, despite himself being extremely high-strung and stressed out:
KARKAT: RIGHT, IT'S POWERED BY SCIENCE, I FORGOT. KARKAT: OR HOPE. WHATEVER THE FUCK THAT MEANS. ERIDAN: i dont fuckin need this from you i take enough shit as it is from the rest a you dirtscrapers i thought you and me had a kinda pact or wwhatevver KARKAT: OK FINE, SHUT UP, I APOLOGIZE. I KNOW IT'S TOUGH BEING YOU.
That's definitely pity, which Karkat states to be the basis of all relationships besides pitch. But, sure, okay, Karkat is sometimes nice to his friends. He is, after all, the Friendship Troll, so that's not necessarily out of the ordinary. But how about the fact that it goes both ways?
That's right, Eridan "100% aggro 100% of the time" Ampora is actually really considerate toward Karkat's feelings, and basically nobody else's. Upon hearing that Karkat is distressed that Sollux has died, Eridan actively puts his own meltdown about his breakup with Feferi on pause:
TC: BeCaUsE OuR GoOd bRo sOlLuX JuSt kIcKeD ThE WiCkEd mOtHeRfUcKiN ShIt CA: wwhat the fuck do you mean by that CA: are you sayin hes dead TC: YeAh :o( CA: oh fuck CA: oh god fuck noww i feel like an asshole
He then goes on to chastise Gamzee for his shitty advice, demanding to be given the chance to comfort Karkat himself instead:
TC: BuT I ToLd hIm tO Be cHiLl TC: BeCaUsE ThErE Is a mIrAcLe cOmInG, i cAn fEeL It CA: that is the wworst fuckin advvice CA: wwhat an awwful thing a you to say CA: MAGIC ISNT REAL STUPID STOP BELIEVVIN IN IT TC: i'Ve gOt tO BeLiEvE At wHaT My hEaRt tElLs iN Me, EvEn iF It's a fAkE ThInG TC: HoNk CA: this is a lot a pointless fuckin rubbish and isnt no emotional help to him or me either for that matter CA: put kar on
Before finally giving up when Gamzee insists he's "too scared of Jack" to help, drinking some Faygo, and trying to ask past Karkat for help, because past Karkat isn't sad yet about Sollux dying. So, to recap,
Eridan's first instinct when in emotional duress is to go to Karkat.
Eridan feels like he knows Karkat well enough to know that Gamzee's advice would be useless (and is proven right by the fact that Gamzee and Karkat's moirallegiance fails for similar reasons).
Eridan is willing to shelve his own emotional meltdown for Karkat's sake.
Eridan demands to be the one to provide Karkat with emotional support.
And this is, again, not a one-off thing. In the memo Karkat opens right after Eridan and Gamzee have both turned murderous, after he's spent several minutes making death threats toward Eridan and insulting him directly, he goes:
CCG: I'M SO UPSET, I'M JUST COMPLETELY FREAKING OUT IN EVERY WAY POSSIBLE. PCA: yeah i knoww wwhat its like you wwanna talk about it
Eridan spends this entire memo under the belief that it's a completely run-of-the-mill conversation they're having:
PCA: i mean yeah obvviously i kneww you wwerent serious PCA: i guess i appreciate the effort youre puttin into cheerin me up PCA: i can alwways count on you for some good ironic repartee kar nobody else really gets our sense a humor CCG: UGH, NO PCA: are you busy PCA: you said youd try to make it to lowwaa soon wwell howw about it
Which implies that offering to listen to Karkat's feelings is also a completely regular thing for them.
But something magical is ALSO happening within this last memo, and to really explain it, I'll first have to be a little mean to the GamKar shippers (sorry).
So, canonically, GamKar doesn't work out for them, despite also being somewhat foreshadowed. In fact, they feature on Nepeta's shipping wall, which is actually, in my opinion, foreshadowing that it WOULDN'T work out. (Nepeta's ships being wrong, and shipping being something she needs to learn to outgrow, is a whole essay on its own, that I'm not getting into here.)
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But the thing is, the seeds for them not working out were also planted in the first - and only - real post-moirallegiance interaction that they have with each other, where Gamzee tries to calm Karkat down... and FAILS:
GAMZEE: naw brother, i was just about to all say for you to try and get your settle down on, maybe. GAMZEE: :o( ... KARKAT: OK KARKAT: OK YEAH KARKAT: I GUESS YOU'RE RIGHT. KARKAT: NO, YOU'RE RIGHT, I SHOULD RELAX. KARKAT: AND BREATHE. KARKAT: I MEAN, WHAT ARE MOIRAILS FOR, RIGHT? KARKAT: THIS IS HOW IT WORKS, I STOP YOU FROM KILLING EVERYBODY, THEN YOU RETURN THE FAVOR AND CALM ME DOWN AND I JUST KARKAT: BREATHE KARKAT: LIKE KARKAT: THIS... KARKAT: SNIIIIIIIIIIIIFFFFFFFFFFFFFUCK, THAT SUN IS BRIGHT. KARKAT: CALL ME CRAZY, BUT IT'S KIND OF HARD TO RELAX WITHIN A STONE'S THROW FROM, OH, I GUESS ONLY THE BIGGEST FUCKING STAR ANY MORTAL HAS EVER LAID EYES ON. ... KARKAT: BUT I MEAN, CAN THIS BE HEALTHY? KARKAT: AREN'T WE GOING TO GET BURNED OR HAVE OUR RETINAS SCORCHED BY LOOKING AT IT? KARKAT: OH GOD I THINK I'M HAVING A PANIC ATTACK.
But let's go back to that memo where Karkat is freaking out in every way possible. This is how he starts that memo - so upset about the deaths of his friends and terrified by Gamzee that he can barely string together a coherent thought:
CCG: WE ARE SO SCREWED. CCG: OH FUCK OH FUCK OH FUCK. CCG: GUYS, I AM TERRIFIED, I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO. CCG: I'M IN A ROOM FULL OF BODIES, AND I THINK I'M NOT SUPPOSED TO TURN MY BACK ON THEM? CCG: OH MY GOD, I JUST HEARD A HONK. ... CCG: FEFERI, I'M SORRY. CCG: IT WAS MY FAULT, I DIDN'T KNOW WHAT TO DO. PCC: Sorry for w)(at?? CCG: FOR CCG: I CCG: I CAN'T DO THIS CCG: IT'S TOO MUCH FOR ME, I'M SORRY.
In fact, he's so distressed that he bans Past!Feferi and Past!Gamzee almost immediately after they come in. But then Eridan comes in, and... I mean, first of all, just compare how long it takes for him to ban Eridan:
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But more interesting are the contents of their conversation. Over the course of talking to Eridan... Karkat completely calms the fuck down. Like he's entirely forgotten that he's shitting his pants with fear. In fact, he even starts critiquing Eridan for his dumbassery:
PCA: evven if i wwasnt compelled to think you wwere still bein flippant and ironic wwith me you cant exactly outright reject me can you CCG: WHY NOT PCA: cause youre future you PCA: doesnt count unless its present you til then its all fair game CCG: IS THIS REAL, ARE YOU BEING IRONIC OR SOMETHING, I CAN'T EVEN TELL ANYMORE CCG: THE PROBLEM IS, I CAN'T PUT THIS SORT OF BEHAVIOR PAST YOU AT ALL, SO I DON'T KNOW. ... CCG: YOU'RE KILLING ANGELS NOW, AREN'T YOU PCA: no CCG: YOU ARE KILLING FUCKING ANGELS, RIGHT NOW, IN THE PAST, WITH YOUR SHITTY GUN. I JUST KNOW IT. PCA: wwell uh PCA: therere just so damn many kar and theyre not gettin any less bloody pissed is the thing CCG: THIS IS WHY IT WOULD NEVER WORK BETWEEN US, MAN.
It's extremely funny. Over the course of talking to Eridan, he goes from:
CCG: OH GOD OH GOD OH MAN OH GOD CCG: NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO
To:
CCG banned PCA from responding to memo. CCG: ANYWAY CCG: THAT'S IT I GUESS.
Eridan isn't even trying to calm Karkat down. He still succeeds in doing so. This is because they are soul mates. And I mean that in the sense that the comic literally calls being moirails soul mates, which it doesn't do for the other quadrants:
A reasonable human translation would be the concept of a soul mate, but in a more platonic sense, and with a more specific social purpose.
That "social purpose" being that an even-tempered troll calms down a more hot-tempered one, and vice versa.
It also goes on to note:
But some pale pairings, as the one above [referring to a picture of Nepeta and Equius], will be strikingly obvious to all who know them.
But what's really interesting is the next page.
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And yet others will seem to have been hatched for each other.
Did you catch that? Let me zoom in.
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(Also, the blue and red cuttlefish to represent Sollux - Feferi and Sollux spend the whole game together, and even wind up talking about their feelings constantly in a pile - more on piles in a sec.)
In fact... in Eridan's first visual appearance...
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The crab has always been there for him.
It's also important to talk about the bottle of Faygo that's been photoshopped to be candy red, Karkat's blood color. The path that it takes actually directly mirrors Karkat's relationships with Gamzee and Eridan - it's initially something that Gamzee has, but winds up being ejected out of his life, and washes up on Eridan's shore. In fact:
TC: SnAtCh aN IcEcOlD, dOg TC: MoThErFuCkIn cHuG ThAt sHiT LiKe yOu aNd tHe bOtTlE WaS ReUnItEd lOvErS CA: are you recommendin a bevverage to me or somethin CA: is that wwhat this is TC: YeAh mAn SlAm A FaYgO CA: i dont havve a fuckin faygo you stupid fuck wwhy wwould i keep that disgusting shit on hand TC: ArE YoU MoThErFuCkIn sUrE AbOuT ThAt? CA: oh CA: oh god youre right i do CA: i totally forgot about it TC: YoU SeE MaN TC: MoThEr TC: FuCkIn TC: MiRaClEs TC: :o)
When Gamzee and Eridan discuss this exact bottle, Gamzee even likens it to "reunited lovers"; it's something that Eridan has had this whole time (after all, he was cheating on Feferi with the guy), but never realized.
There are a few miscellaneous things that don't really mean anything on their own, but put next to all this other stuff, is worth considering, so I'll list those now.
First, they both do the bonk:
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Second:
CG: ARE WE NOT FRIENDS ANYMORE BECAUSE OF STUFF I SAID. TA: eheheheh you LIITERALLY a2k me that every tiime are you jokiing. TA: ii cant even tell anymore. CG: IT'S A JOKE MORON. CG: HONESTLY I'M JUST GLAD NOBODY ELSE IS PRIVVY TO OUR CONVERSATIONS.
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Third, Karkat muses to his future self about how he misses his friends, especially the assholes, two pages before staring at a dead Eridan's ass (joking, he's definitely looking at WV, but it's still significant that this thought is being associated with Eridan):
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CCG: I MEAN, DON'T GET ME WRONG. CCG: I MISS ALL OF MY DEAD FRIENDS A LOT. CCG: EVEN THE ASSHOLES! I MISS THEM TOO. MAYBE EVEN ESPECIALLY THEM, IN SOME PERVERSE WAY. CCG: AND I SHOULD BE RELIEVED THAT THEY ALL SEEM TO BE HAPPY IN SOME WAY, EVEN IF IT'S BY FLOATING NEBULOUSLY THROUGH DREAM PROJECTIONS WITH THEIR FREAKY BLANK EYES. CCG: AND I GUESS I AM RELIEVED ABOUT THAT. CCG: BUT AT THE SAME TIME IT'S LEFT ME UNSETTLED.
Fourth, in the same conversation, he bemoans his failed relationship with Terezi, before Future!Karkat chastises Past!Karkat for his instability and mixed signals. Going back to the page on moirallegiances, an explicit function of a proper pale relationship is stabilizing a troll's other relationships:
The two partners in a strong pale relationship will serve to balance and complement each other's emotional profiles, and thus allow their other relationships to be more successful.
Of course, I don't need to tell you how messy and unstable Eridan's relationships have been.
And finally, Piles of Stuff™ are associated with moirails, and directly stated in-comic to cause an outpouring of emotion:
Standing near this pile stirs powerful emotions. The closer you stand to piles of stuff, the more freely the feelings flow. It is a law of reality.
So here's a seven-word tragedy for you: For Sale, Shitty Wand Pile, Never Used:
ERIDAN: at least i got the upright basic decency to hide my shitty wand pile somewwhere in the lab you wwont find it dont evven bother lookin KARKAT: WHY DO YOU ASSHOLES HAVE PILES OF THINGS, JUST STOP.
(Which he specifically tells Karkat about.)
So, yeah, what I'm saying is, there's just, like, a weirdly large amount to read into here. That Karkat and Eridan are probably soulmates or whatever. And that this is important because...
Eridan Is Plot Relevant (Well All The Dead Trolls Are But This Is An Essay About Eridan)
So. Now we are going to talk about themes. Yes, like we are in schoolfeeding again. I'm going to keep it simple, because "The Themes of Homestuck" is a whole essay on its own, and this one about just the shitty fish boy is already way too long.
I think it's fairly non-controversial to posit that the main theme of Homestuck is, "children should mature, care about each other, and throw off the shackles of their old society, because they will be responsible for a new world one day."
Up until Game Over/the Retcon, this is so prevalent and well-established that SBURB/SGRUB's coming-of-age themes will outright be commented upon by the characters, and the main villain is a child who deliberately stunted his own growth so he could go around kicking over other peoples' toys forevermore.
So, the thing is, with that being the theme of Homestuck, if ALL of the Alternian trolls don't survive to the end, the ending is thematically unsatisfying, because the message suddenly gains an addendum of "well, some kids just need to die," which totally sucks. Like, sure, Eridan was a violent, crazed murderer even at the best of times, but his permanent death within the canon ending kind of means that the comic is saying that people in his position don't deserve kindness or second chances. That position being a traumatized, emotionally neglected child, who was being bullied by people he considered his friends. It's a pretty terrible message.
It's even worse when you consider what other trolls don't make it to the end - Nepeta, the most outspoken troll against the hemospectrum (and Davepeta does NOT count, don't try to tell me the final culmination of Nepeta's character arc is being combined with some guy she barely knows and a bird). Feferi, who genuinely wanted the best for others, even if she was kind of a privileged princess. Aradia and Sollux also stay behind in the bubbles, even though their lives have pretty much been endless parades of suffering and being used by other people. Even Equius doesn't deserve it - he was kind of a casteist freak, but not irredeemably so, and the fact that he became kinder to Karkat over the course of SGRUB proved that he had the capacity to change. And Tavros, allergic to himself and being insulted by Vriska, is a terrible way to end his arc.
It's also really clear that, since half his friends are dead, Karkat just doesn't really have anything to do. His title is the Knight of Blood, and Blood is about bonds - romance, friendship. And yet, he ends the comic having never figured out what Blood was about, with no confirmed filled quadrants (sorry DaveKat likers, but within the comic itself, DaveKat is never confirmed), and most of his bonds nothing more than ghosts in the bubbles. It's a terribly unsatisfying ending for the most narratively important troll.
I think, then, that even if you don't agree that Homestuck should have ended with full revivals and redemption arcs for all the trolls, the essay is going to proceed on like you do, so, sorry, I guess.
The thing with Eridan, specifically, is that he's actually tied deeply into the plot and themes, and his return means more than just Karkat finally getting a date (although that's important, too). Eridan is directly intertwined with a prophecy to kill Lord English; he's set up to mirror Caliborn and Calliope; and thematically, his redemption would be the most clear instance of the "interrogating society" part of the theme of Homestuck, because Eridan is kind of the Society Troll. And also, he was definitely supposed to be Roxy's wizard boyfriend.
Just gonna get that last one out of the way real quick because it's a fast one, Roxy fucking loves wizards and is a hipster. Eridan is a wizard and is also a hipster. Roxy has a crush on a prince. Eridan is also a prince. Roxy wears a purple striped scarf. Eridan wears a blue striped scarf. Roxy uses rifles. Eridan uses rifles. Momlonde's introduction includes a passive-aggressive fridge battle that features a cameo of Eridan's quirk.
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Using the colorful MAGNET LETTERS, you recently left a succinct message, which may or may not have been directed toward anyone in particular. But you couldn't find the letter W, so you just stuck two V's together. Your mother then purchased a fresh pack of W's and left them there for your convenience.
Yeah. So. Uh. Not only did Eridan need to be brought back to date Karkat pale, but he also needed to be brought back to date Roxy flushed. Can you imagine how funny it would be. They'd get together within 5 minutes of meeting for the first time and Rose would lose her shit. Anyway.
Him being a parallel to Calliope and Caliborn is also a quick one - Caliborn uses Riflekind/Sceptrekind, and Calliope uses Pistolkind/Wandkind. Eridan's two weapons are rifles and wands. Lord English is described as an evil wizard and at one point is shown using Calliope's wand. Eridan is also an evil wizard who uses a wand.
Look, I'm not saying that Eridan is necessarily directly related to these two, nor am I even necessarily saying that he and Roxy HAVE to date, but I am saying that he's got Weird Plot Connections that make him bizarrely relevant to characters that only come into play well after his death - almost like the comic was setting up that he would be coming back. His reaction to Cronus supports this, which I go into detail about here.
There's other strange "Eridan's plot important" things, too - like the fact that he's completely unimpressed by Faygo, considering it to be "just soda," and seems to be the only non-cultist who's okay with it. Or the fact that he's actually been awake on Derse since before the game (but unable to hear the horrorterrors, maybe foreshadowing some psychic resistance?) which he casually reveals to Kanaya and which Terezi is aware of, hence he's included in the people she names are "in" on the existence of the game. Or the fact that the genetic code for Alternia's first guardian was written within the pages of four FLARP books, with the addition of a fifth code Gamzee wrote in Karkat's ~ATH book... but Eridan was the fifth FLARP player in the team, implying that Doc Scratch/LE influencing Gamzee caused him to usurp Eridan's part of the first guardian code, giving LE his way into the trolls' universe.
Individually, it's all kind of nothing, but it just paints a bigger picture of Eridan being weirdly relevant, especially when we get to the juicy stuff:
The Prophecy
ARANEA: The 8ard of Hope may seem a little jaded these days, 8ut he once had a deeply a8iding faith in magic, and dedicated himself to 8ecoming a great wizard. He 8ecame convinced he was hatched to defeat an extraordinarily evil magician, one he swore the angels foretold of. ... [T]his magician once somehow from afar tried to strike him down at a young age, so he would never have to face him. 8ut the evil spell was deflected, sealing the magician's spirit away in a series of unassuming vessels until he could find some other cunning way to enter our universe. ... ARANEA: 8ut at some point he 8ecame disillusioned with magic. If there ever was any truth to his far fetched vision, the legacy of defeating the evil magician would have to 8e passed on to his descendant, or if his descendant proved to 8e as much of a failure as he did, then perhaps on to some other Hero of Hope.
ERIDAN: i slaughtered enough angels to knoww my limits and wwhere i stand against the lord of all angels they prophecized
GG: im pretty sure hes from the future! CA: wwhy GG: because he said hes my grandson CA: wwhat the fuck is a grandson CA: is that some kind of pervverse human familial thing GG: umm yes ... CA: that gun i just gavve you is somethin of a hatchright to the kid CA: happy i could play a role in your dirty stinkin lineage GG: like an heirloom? i guess it could be ... CA: i kinda think thats wwhy i found the gun in the first place CA: but noww im forsakin it because fuck i just found a better destiny than my old crappy one wwhich i nevver got any appreciation for anywway
Jake is supposed to have been the one to defeat Lord English. (No, Jake defeating pre-LE Caliborn right before he gets sealed into Cal doesn't count! He doesn't even get the final blow in that fight, DIRK does.)
But Eridan at one point had that destiny on his shoulders. Aranea turbohealing Jake, and the resultant hope field, summons a bunch of angels, which are heavily associated with Eridan - yet another random connection that Eridan has with future plot events.
Jake was another character, alongside Karkat, who was kind of reduced to a joke by the end, despite the fact that he had literally, directly, been passed the destiny of defeating Lord English. It's hard not to see this as a consequence, at least in part, of removing Eridan from the story. By cutting him out of the fabric of the ending, several plot threads - including this prophecy - are left dangling in irrelevance. And so Jake, like Karkat, now has nothing to do.
Homestuck is generally a series where every prophecy does come true, which makes it kind of startling when several prophecies fail to - Feferi's to "unite the two races," Jake's to defeat Lord English, and Karkat's to bring "compassion, forgiveness, and equality among all bloodlines" in the Signless's place.
That last one is actually relevant to:
The Thematic Importance of EriKar As Soul Mates
Eridan represents the worst aspects of Alternian society. He's a sea dweller at the top of the caste structure, with free reign to murder whoever he wants, soaked in the blood of thousands of innocent trolls. He espouses the casteist rhetoric that their society is built on, calling for the deaths of all land dwellers and the oppression of the lower castes. And while he should be benefitting from his position of privilege, it has also done nothing but hurt him.
Karkat, meanwhile, is a pariah. A mutant who would've been culled on sight, who spent his entire life living in hiding, and most of the game in fear that he would be ostracized or worse by the rest of his friends if they found out about his blood color. He's also the second coming of Troll Jesus, and thus, more despised by the Alternian ruling class than a mutant normally would be. For most of his life, he dreamed of nothing more than finding belonging within the society that had deemed him unfit.
Their friendship is something that "should not be." The highblood and the mutant. The royal-v and the off-spectrum. The empress's sea dweller and the second coming of the signless. Eridan "should" see Karkat as a miscreant to cull on sight. Karkat "should" be terrified of Eridan's very existence.
But in reality, Eridan doesn't give a shit about blood color, and Karkat just wants to be accepted. Eridan just wants someone to care about him, and Karkat loves his friends. Aside from Feferi, Eridan is the only highblood who never comments about Karkat's mutant blood, and they were best buddies even before Eridan knew.
Eridan and Karkat getting together isn't JUST the two most undateable trolls on the team finally landing a stable quadrant. These two, moreso than any other pairing, represent the themes of Homestuck. Children growing up, caring about each other, and throwing off the shackles of their old society.
In the pre-retcon timeline, their team failed to do so. This led to Gamzee falling into his highblood clown cult, Equius letting himself and Nepeta die by submitting to his place in the hemospectrum, Vriska killing Tavros because she couldn't allow herself to show weakness, and Eridan completing his caste's dream of genocide. Karkat spent the entire meteor trip and beyond beating himself up about it, since he considered it all to be his fault.
But with the introduction of John's retcon powers, they have the chance to, one by one, redeem themselves. I believe that's how the original ending would have gone: Terezi would ask John to bring Vriska back, because she only feels comfortable fixing her own mistakes. Vriska would then have asked John to bring back Tavros, whom she regretted killing. Tavros would be there for Gamzee, rendering him an ally. Gamzee would ask John to bring back Equius and Nepeta. Equius would ask John to help him not make the same mistakes with Aradia, and Aradiabot would catch John by the wrist and demand he bring her back in time to before she died, allowing her to circumvent her own death and Sollux's guilt. Sollux would ask John to keep him from provoking Eridan, saving Feferi. And Feferi would be pretty ok with the way things were... but KARKAT would then pull John aside, and drop an entire book of mistakes he made on John's lap, and this would result in a finalized timeline where all his friends are alive and god-tiered.
Because all the trolls SHOULD have survived.
Vriska should've survived because people should be allowed to have second chances.
Tavros should've survived because caring about each other, and being willing to show kindness and mercy, are good things.
Gamzee should have survived because people mired in religious fundamentalism and cults deserve to be offered a helping hand.
Equius should've survived because people should be allowed to grow and change their beliefs.
Nepeta should've survived because she was the anti-casteism troll. Casteism is bad, folks! Not only that, but I'm convinced that she was originally going to give the Ultimate Self exposition, and Davepetasprite^2 had to be contrived in the canon ending in order to shortcut Nepeta's character development, ruining it in the process.
Aradia should've been allowed to stay with the rest of the team and live a life free of the control of evil uncles and shitty ancestors.
Sollux should've been allowed to stay with the rest of the team because we all deserve to heal and be happy.
Feferi should've survived so she could be in a kismesistude with Nepeta, and realize that casteism itself is bad, not just the definition of culling, and then used her Witch of Life powers to even out the lifespans between the next generation of trolls, which needs to happen or else casteism will just happen again as long-lived highbloods inevitably amass power. And, also, it would complete the prophecy Gl'bgolyb gave her that she was intended to unite the two races (dream bubbles don't count, because by that metric, Sollux did more than she did by establishing a connection between the trolls and humans).
And Eridan should've survived, because the harm society has done to us can be undone. We don't have to submit to the roles it imposes, to the laws it wrote, to the abuse it inflicted. We can be free.
I've seen a lot of people who believe that such-and-such character did SUCH awful things that they don't deserve a happy ending. Oftentimes, it's Eridan, but nearly all of the dead trolls have gotten this treatment. So, let me just ask all of you who have gotten this far and still hold that opinion one thing. Do you think that's what Troll Jesus would have wanted?
This is why pale EriKar is so important: for it to happen, Eridan has to make a choice between upholding the beliefs of his shitty society, or pursuing a happier, kinder future, one where he outright rejects the caste system. For it to happen, Karkat has to shake all his insecurities about not being good enough by Alternian standards, and take on the duty of creating something better than what he came from. If pale EriKar happens, it means Eridan and Karkat choose love, not fear. Compassion, forgiveness, and equality.
This choice - this pairing - is the ultimate representation of giving Alternian society one big middle finger. Saying, we don't need you anymore, fuck off! Saying, we reject you at your core; we will choose something better! Saying, we will create a new world, and it will be kinder than the one we came from!
Pale EriKar means LOVE WINS.
Thank you for reading.
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star-sim · 4 months
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hello kitty meets batman (real not clickbait!) ☆ jake sim
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☆ 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
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.”
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2K notes · View notes
witchywithwhiskey · 17 days
Note
Lloyd + 61. “did you really think that would work? cute”
cooped up on a nice spring day
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pairing: husband!lloyd hansen x female reader
warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), smut, piv sex, unprotected sex, creampie, cockwarming, choking, light bdsm, bratting, begging, teasing, dirty talk, light degradation, praise kink, referenced oral sex (f receiving), pet names (it's lloyd so there's a bunch), established relationship, fluff
word count: 1,800ish
a/n: thank you for sending in this prompt Eva!!! and it's so perfect for Lloyd!! i had a lot of fun writing this one—it has probably the brattiest reader i've written so far, so i hope you enjoy!!! ♡♡
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The view outside your husband’s office was beautiful in the spring—in fact, the garden was one of the reasons you’d fallen in love with the house and why Lloyd Hansen had bought it for you. There were so many flowering trees and so much flourishing greenery that you felt like you could stare at it all for hours while Lloyd worked.
And, in fact, that’s exactly what you’d been doing on that particular spring day. Lloyd had even opened the window so you could feel the warm spring breeze against your cheeks and smell the sweet perfume of the lilacs and honeysuckle from the garden. It was a beautiful day and you hoped Lloyd would finish working soon so you could go outside and enjoy the sunshine together.
It had been your intention when you’d strolled into Lloyd’s office in one of your pretty sundresses to entice your husband to go for a walk in the garden with you. You’d had designs about packing a picnic and spreading out a blanket beneath one of the leafy trees to spend the afternoon together. But Lloyd had insisted he couldn’t be pulled away from work—though that hadn’t stopped him from pulling you into his lap.
One thing had led to another and your plan to coax him out of his office had been foiled when he’d talked you into straddling his lap and keeping his cock warm while he worked. With the window open, it had seemed like the perfect compromise. After all, you loved being connected to your husband in such an intimate way, and with you able to stare out the window behind his desk, you’d been content.
For a while.
But your hips ached a little from sitting in the same position for so long, and your body was growing restless from having Lloyd’s perfect cock buried inside you for so many hours without anything in the way of satisfaction. But every time you moved your hips even a little bit, even to readjust yourself, Lloyd’s hand would press firmly against your lower back and he’d urge you to keep still. 
You tried to be good, you really did, but the sun was beginning to dip toward the horizon and you could feel the beautiful spring day slipping through your fingers, along with all your plans to enjoy it with your husband. A whine worked its way up your throat and you couldn’t bear to bite it back. 
“Lloyd, please, can’t we go outside for a little while,” you begged, your arms circling around his shoulders and squeezing him tight while you tried, and failed, to keep your hips from rocking in lazy circles. “You can work later.” Your last word came out on a whimper as you felt the delicious drag of his cock against your inner walls, a shiver racing down your spine.
“Just a little while longer, pet,” Lloyd rumbled distractedly, pressing his hand against your lower back and urging you to still your rolling hips. “You can be a good girl for your husband, can’t you?” He offered you a sly smile as he glanced at you out of the corner of his eye.
Huffing an impatient sigh, you let him stop your movements, muttering, “That’s what you said an hour ago.” If you sounded petulant, that’s because you were. You didn’t even try to hide your mood from your husband, who seemed content with ignoring his wife’s needs. 
As if Lloyd could read your mind, he gripped the back of your neck and towed you away from where you’d been draped against his chest so he could look you straight in the eye. “If you give me a few more minutes of peace and quiet, I promise we’ll spend the rest of the afternoon outside,” he said, his tone patient.
But you discovered in that moment that you were all out of patience of your own. You shot Lloyd a glare before you ducked forward and nipped his ear sharply with your teeth, using your cunt to squeeze his cock as hard as your inner muscles could, wringing a grunt from your husband. 
“I want to go outside now,” you hissed in his ear, knowing exactly what you were doing and knowing it was going to get a rise out of Lloyd. But that was exactly what you wanted.
Lloyd’s hand slipped easily from the back of your neck to the wrap around the front, his thumb and middle finger digging into your throat just beneath the cut of your jaw. He pushed you back enough so you could feel the full weight of his glower, but you only scowled at him harder.
“Did you really think that would work?” he asked, tilting his head to the side while he looked down at you. But you couldn’t even bring yourself to feel worried about the dangerous thread in his tone, not when your husband’s attention was finally fully on you. “Cute.” 
Then Lloyd was pushing you up by his grip on your throat, rising to stand with a dark look on his face that sent a shiver down your spine. You whimpered when you lifted off his cock, your body feeling unimaginably empty without him inside you, but your husband only snarled at your pitiful sound.
“You wanna go outside? We’ll go outside,” Lloyd muttered, spinning you around and bending you over the sill of the window behind his desk. It didn’t have a screen so your upper body hung out the back of the house, only your husband’s hand holding you around your throat preventing you from tumbling out into the garden. “How’s this, princess, is this outside enough for you?” Lloyd growled in your ear, curling his body over yours and pinning you to the sill.
But it wasn’t enough for you, not when your cunt was leaking with arousal and your inner walls were fluttering pathetically around nothing. “Need you inside me, husband,” you gasped out, squirming your hips beneath Lloyd’s bigger frame, like you could somehow find the tip of him and force him to drive his full length home.
“First you demand I take you outside, then you demand I be inside you,” Lloyd rumbled, his tone mean in that way that made your whole body clench and pleasure to flood your mind. “You’re needy today aren’t you, cupcake?” he asked mockingly, his free hand reaching between your bodies to grip his dick and slide the head through your soaking folds. 
You went weak and pliant beneath Lloyd when you were so close to getting what you wanted, your lips forming the first desperate words you could manage. “Yes, yes, so needy for your cock, husband, please give it to me, please, I need you to fuck me, oh god, Lloyd, please!”
With one furious thrust, Lloyd buried the full length of his cock deep in your cunt, the tip ramming against the end of you so hard that you shrieked in a mixture of pain and pleasure. Lloyd’s hand tightened around your throat, choking off the loudest of your sounds of pleasure while he curled over your body, his chest pressing to your back, his cock grinding deep in your cunt in a way that made your toes curl. 
“Good girl, angel, sound so sweet begging for your husband’s dick,” Lloyd rumbled, his free hand gripping your hip tightly while he pounded into you with short, deep thrusts, his thighs clapping against the backs of yours. “You didn’t need to be such a brat to get me to fuck you, just needed to beg for me.”
You were too far gone with pleasure to respond, but it occurred to you that Lloyd fucking you through the open window of his office was much better than the lazy picnic sex you’d envisioned for the afternoon. Glancing through the garden, you knew if anyone was around, they’d see the obscene tableau you painted, your husband fucking you over the windowsill, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. Not when the brutal thrusting of Lloyd’s cock felt so exquisite, your cunt clenching down on him as your pleasure grew.
“Fuck, fuck, buttercup, your cunt feels too good, you’re gonna make me come,” Lloyd groaned, his teeth sinking into your shoulder while his hand slipped between your thighs, finding your wet, slippery clit. “Come on your husband’s cock, wife, show me what a good girl you can be with my dick buried deep in this pussy.”
Your orgasm hit you with the suddenness of a champagne cork popping, leaving you awash in wave after wave of dazzling pleasure. A scream tore free from your throat before your husband cut it off with his choking grip. Your body tightened beneath Lloyd, your cunt gripping his cock so hard, it set off his own release. He rutted into you, muttering about your perfect cunt and how you were so good for coming on his cock. 
Together, you rode out your releases together, your bodies writhing against the windowsill until you were both finally sated.
Carefully, Lloyd helped you back inside, and he collapsed into his office chair, his arm banded around your waist pulling you down into his lap and keeping you connected. You leaned heavily back against his chest, your body feeling boneless from pleasure, a satisfied smile curling your lips. 
Lloyd pressed a kiss to your cheek, the bristles of his mustache tickling your skin gently and making you giggle softly.
“Will you be a good girl and let me finish my work now?” he asked in a low, delicious rumble. 
You stretched out your arms and legs, your spine curving and pushing your chest out so Lloyd could see the way your nipples poked against the thin cotton of your sundress. Grinning like the cat that got the cream, you relaxed back into Lloyd’s lap, humming in contentment. 
“I think I can manage for a little while, husband,” you purred, but you tilted your head and caught his eye. “But only for a little while.” There was a warning in your tone that made Lloyd chuckle. 
“I wouldn’t dream of keeping you cooped up on such a nice spring day, wife,” Lloyd murmured, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “At least, not for much longer.” 
True to his word, Lloyd finished his work soon after and, together, the two of you went out into the gardens for a late lunch. You ate the food you’d prepared for the picnic you’d planned, and then Lloyd settled between your thighs to devour you for dessert. 
You laid back on your picnic blanket beneath a shady tree in the garden of your home and let your husband worship your body. After all, it was what you deserved for being such a good wife, and his good girl, while he’d kept you cooped up for so much of the nice spring day.
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lighteyed · 10 months
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can it be easy this once? / steve harrington
summary: steve accidentally gives a stupid answer to your honest question. (best friends with benefits pining idiots to lovers, fem!reader)
unedited we die like men & title from the alcott by the national ft taylor swift hehehe enjoy
It started as a means of comfort after Starcourt, when he was bloody and bruised up but you took him home and got closer, closer, closer, until it turned into a mess of blurred lines and panting breaths, lips swollen for reasons other than being hurt, for better reasons, reasons that brought forth safety and relief for the two of you. You both tend to hunger for such things. It’d been good, easy, for a bit there. Lately it’d felt like the intimacy was threatening to choke you. Like you’d never met a form of  closeness you didn’t cling to. And God, did it feel like you were clinging. Craving an unwarranted change. Was it so unwarranted? You weren’t sure, you could never tell.
    The air in his room is hot and sticky with summer, the ceiling fan providing the barest relief, your bare skin providing the slightest bit more. You stare all around his room, taking in all the stark traces of him, though in truth it doesn’t betray much, just as he attempts to. It’s a plain room, plaid walls, matching curtains, his desk messy and cluttered, all the dresser’s drawers slightly ajar like he spent a touch too long shuffling through all his clothes to determine which outfit would be best, which, knowing him in the way you do, he probably did. You knew he wasn’t as secure as he liked everyone to believe. Steve Harrington tried his best, but sometimes you saw right through him.
     Other times he was harder to read. It was probably purposeful, layers of protection built around himself. Don’t love anyone, don’t let anyone love you, and you won’t get hurt. People can only hurt you if you let them. Steve wasn’t letting anyone anymore. Definitely not his parents, definitely not Nancy Wheeler, definitely not random girls who would inevitably end up disappointed with him. He swore it all off. He was a hopeless romantic who never wanted to be in love again. You understood it for the most part. Or you attempted to. It was hard when you were halfway (maybe more than halfway) in love with the guy, in his bed most nights, in his company most days, acting like a couple without being an established couple because he was too hesitant and you were too gentle to be pushy.
    He nudges you lightly, naked chest peeking up from his covers, naked everything else kept firmly underneath. “You okay? You’re quiet.” He sits up so he’s level with you, and you avoid eye contact by leaning down toward the floor to grasp for the shirt he let you borrow, a faded Spider-Man one he insisted was from middle school. You didn’t entirely believe him, but maybe it was just funny, and kind of sweet, to picture Steve sleeping in a Spider-Man shirt and keeping it a secret just for himself. You pull the shirt on over your head, and before you can do it for yourself, he reaches for your hair and takes it out from where it’s caught under the shirt. The familiarity of it makes you flinch. You can have sex with him all you want but God forbid he’s the slightest bit loving outside of that. It confuses you, the softness in the touches that aren’t in bed with him. If he holds your hand in any context other than bringing you as into him as possible while he slips himself in and out, you lose all sense of normalcy between the two of you. You can’t be normal when he’s holding your hand and stroking your cheeks and being kind, soft, adoring Steve, without being your Steve.
     “I’m fine, I’m just…” You reach for your shorts at the end of the bed. Steve watches you get dressed with his eyebrows scrunched together, confused. You’re not usually in a rush to leave after you have sex. Not that he wants you to. He likes that you stay until day sinks into night and he drives you home and waits to repeat it all again. Waits to see you, generally. And it’s not sex every single time. You drag him to see whatever’s playing at the Hawk and he makes you sit with him at Family Video on slow days when it’s just him on the clock and a single tumbleweed blows through the store instead of any customers. He drives you just about anywhere you ask and he lets you put on any cassettes you want in his car even if he hates what’s playing. It’s nice, the friendship part of all of it. If you had to give everything else up and just keep the friendship you’d be willing. He’d be willing. You consider it. “Nothing, just tired, probably gonna head home,” you smile at him over your shoulder before pulling on your socks and it’s half-hearted and he knows it.
    “What? You can sleep here, you know that,” he waves a hand around the room, trying to catch your gaze, but you avoid his eyes again. Descending light slants in through the curtains and envelopes him in gold. He glows, he’s so pretty. His hair is messy from where you heatedly ran your hands through it, but it still looks nearly perfect. The fact that he always looks so good infuriates you.
    “No yeah, I know, I wanna like shower and stuff too, and I left my new book at home and I wanted to do some reading,” you bluff calmly, standing up from tangled bedsheets and roaming the room in search of your sneakers.
   “That Stephen King scary clown book? I’ll take you home and you can come back and read it here, so you don’t get scared,” and he knows you won’t get scared and that you love horror far more than he ever could but he just really, really doesn’t want to be alone. Why would you go when everything’s right here? His parents aren’t home and something about you leaving makes him antsy and desperate. When you still refuse to look at him he feels himself, his confidence, growing smaller and smaller. “Did I- did I do something?” He doesn’t mean for it to sound as pathetic as it does.
   You whip around to face him, finally, finally, and touch a hand to his face. Relief floods through him at the heat of your fingers. “No, of course not, it’s all me, okay? I’m all sweaty and awful.”
    “You look beautiful, I swear,” he squeezes your hand and you feel like you’re drowning. It’s hard to breathe, your chest tight. “Are you sure you’re okay? You can talk to me, it’s me.” He scoots closer, if that’s possible. “You’re one of my best friends, we tell each other everything.” You look up toward the ceiling, inwardly groaning. Best friend.
   “You do this with all your best friends?”  
    “Well, no, Robin wouldn’t touch me even if she didn’t like girls-“ He feels himself starting to grin, teasing smile lilting at his lips.
     “Steve!” You’re laughing a little and so is he as you push his arm back. “You know that’s not what I meant.”
    “What’d you mean, then?” He’s still smiling, that entrancing, deliberately pouty, lazy smile. Vaguely smirky. You don’t know if it’s deliberate, a ploy to distract you, con you into staying, make you less prone to saying what you want to say, but you press anyway, even though he’s making you want to lean forward and endlessly kiss the smirk off his mouth.
   “I just think, I don’t know… you’re not seeing anyone else, right?”
   “’Course not, why, you got other plans after this?” He grins again. You roll your eyes. He makes it so hard sometimes.
    “Steve,” you whine, “I’m so serious right now.”
    “Okay, okay. No, you’re the only one for me.” He means it. It’s the worst thing you’ve ever heard. “Are you seeing anyone else?” He asks you like it’s the easiest question in the world for him to ask but honestly he’s shitting his pants a little. He’s not sure what’d he say if you said yes, I am, and I think we should end this, which is where he’s assuming the conversation is going. You’ve got we shouldn’t do this anymore written all over you in his eyes and he’s steeling himself for the heartbreak.
     “Does it look like I am?”
     “Does it look like I am?” He repeats back, and he reaches for your hand in that too intimate way of his, takes it all careful and slow. “What’s this about?”
     “I just, I just think, that, you know, I’m not seeing anyone, and you’re not seeing anyone, but we’re sorta… seeing each other, yeah?” You gesture between the two of you. He nods. He’s staring at you very intensely, waiting for you to get your words out. He’s still waiting for you to say you think this whole thing has been a very bad mistake, a miscalculated judgement on your part, you should go back to the way things were, so he’s not expecting what comes out of you next. “Shouldn’t we be, like, official, then?”
     And instead of throwing up all the ways he so badly would love for that to happen, he chokes out, because he’s stupid and speechless, “Official?” And the way he says it, like it’s a curse when it’s only his disbelief that you’d want that with him after all this time, makes you immediately go into panic mode.
    He quite literally sees the way you lose any sense of confidence in your question and he immediately tries to take it back as you stand from his side and start trying to force your words back in your mouth, too. “Fuck, forget I said anything,” you mumble, spying your shoes shoved under his desk where you’d comfortably kicked them off. You hasten to put them on as Steve scrambles up from the bed and starts dressing, matching your frantic speed.
    “Hey, wait, that’s not what I- I didn’t mean it like that-“
     “It’s fine, Steve, I get it, I totally do, this isn’t that for you, it’s fine-“
      “It is, it is-“ but you’re not hearing him, your mind is already elsewhere. It’s in your own bed in the quiet, alone with your thoughts and not with him, mercifully not with him. You need this one mercy, “I’ll drive you home, babe, c’mon, I’ll explain everything, please-“
    “I got it, it’s fine, I’m fine, you don’t have to explain, okay? I got it,” and you don’t just walk out of his house and down the block to yours, you absolutely flee. You take Steve’s heart with you.
      He’s pacing the floor behind the register at Family Video three days and three shifts later, practically clawing at the walls of the place, and Robin is pulling her hair out at the sight of him in distress this way.
     “What did you do?” She finally breaks, flipping her magazine shut.
      “What? How do you know it was me?” He stops pacing. He hadn’t even noticed he was doing it.
       “You’ve had three shifts and she hasn’t visited one single time. She always visits. And I know I didn’t do anything wrong, because I never do anything wrong, so, what’d you do?” Robin places her hand under his chin and stares at him expectantly.
      He huffs, his hands on hips. “Maybe she did something, Robin, did you ever think of that?”
     “Definitely not,” Robin retorts, waiting for Steve to be serious.
      He deflates. “Okay, it was me.”
      “I know that, now continue.”
      “We were, you know,” he tilts his head down and raises his eyebrows and widens his eyes.
     “Having sex, sure,” Robin bobs her head. A customer in the nearest aisle frowns and shuffles toward a different section further away from the two of them.
     Steve shushes her. “I wasn’t trying to say it so loud.”
    “Having sex,” Robin repeats, louder this time, not bothering to fight back a laugh at Steve’s exasperated expression, “continue.”
      “Well, after that, she started asking if, if I was seeing anyone, which of course I’m not, because, you know, I’m into her, obviously, so I told her I wasn’t, and she said she wasn’t, so she said maybe we should be official.” Steve hesitates to say the rest of what happened. He still can’t believe all he could do when you said the words was repeat them back to you with that stupid look on his face instead of giving you the biggest, loudest declaration of love in a big, messy, pathetic, devoted way, the way he pictures himself when it comes to you, messy and pathetic and devoted, and he replays that moment back to himself all day long, thinking of everything else he could’ve said to make you understand.
    “That’s what you want, isn’t it? She’s all you talk about all day long, you want to be with her, don’t you?”
    “Of course I do!” He snaps, dragging a hand across his face. “But when she said it I just couldn’t get the words out and she got, she got so sad and she left without me being able to explain anything and she hasn’t answered the phone which, yes, I’ve been calling, and I don’t know how to do this.” He’d never been good at school but he knew he’d get a Grade A in Pitiful.
    “Do what? Tell a girl you love her? You’ve been in relationships before, Steve.”
    “I know, but…” he sighs. “I’m different now, like, it’s not as easy anymore, for me, and I- I don’t want her to get hurt, and I don’t want to get hurt, it’s like, everything used to be my fault, and I wasn’t as good as I could have been, and I don’t want to break anything, I don’t want it to get fucked up, because it’ll be my fault, and I can’t do that again. Not to her.” He swallows, the words harder to come by than he would care to admit. “I’m a little… I’m a little in love with her, I think.” This is said quietly. It frightens him to say it out loud. He’s gone over it in his head, those words, so few of them, but they say so much, and it’s scary. He hasn’t said them to someone in years. The last time he did he got so brutally hurt he thought he’d never recover. But he had. So why was it still so scary?
    “A little bit?” Robin teases, but it’s all love for him, truly.
    “Alright, a lot in love,” he concedes. He wants to get used to saying it. He wants to say it to you. For real. Loudly. “I still don’t know how to do this, though. Not anymore.”
   “Come on!” Robin gets up from her stool and places her hands on his shoulders. “You’re supposed to be Steve Harrington. You were using those…” she pauses for a beat and then, “charms,” the word is said with the smallest hint of sarcasm but she persists nonetheless, “on tons of girls in high school and at Scoops! Now whip them out again for our very nice friend that you sometimes go to town with!”
   “When did any of those charms,” he says it with a matching sarcastic tone, “work aside from when I was sixteen and an idiot?”
   “You might not be sixteen anymore but you’re still an idiot, if that helps.”
    “It doesn’t but thank you for the encouragement.”
    “I’m just saying!” She exclaims, throwing her hands up and returning back to her seat. “Putting yourself out there is always gonna be scary, but you can’t let that stop you. You’d actually be an idiot if you let that stop you. Are you just never gonna see her again? No, because you’d go insane. It’s not like what you did was all that bad anyway.”
    “You really think so?” He perks up a bit, needing that confirmation that he isn’t a totally awful and irredeemable person. It’s easy for him to fall headfirst into that spiral of thinking. It was a trap set with the most accessible, perfect bait and he somehow always found himself walking straight into it without stopping to think if he was being fair to himself.
    “You’ve both been in bad spots, you reacted the way you did and she reacted the way she did out of what was most likely panic and embarrassment. She’s definitely not even mad at you. Probably just, again, embarrassed. If you explain I think it’ll all be okay, Steve, I swear.” Robin can’t take much more of this conversation circling around, as much as she loves Steve and wants to be there for him, she would love him even more if he acted on his feelings and allowed himself some happiness for once.  “So do you think you can you, like, maybe go tell her so she can keep visiting us at work? I need more company than just you and Keith and these customers with no taste,” she complains, glaring at the closed door that hides Keith, in all his absolute glory. The customer from before hears her comment and storms out. Robin rolls her eyes.
    “Right, yeah, tell her I love her, tell my best friend I love her,” he frowns, nerves creeping up the back of his neck. “Maybe you could just call her first and ask-“
     “Steve! I am not meddling in your love life like that when you already know everything there is to know!” She throws her magazine at him. “She said she wants to be with you, go be with her!”
    “Alright, alright!” He waves his hands dismissively. He begins to pace again, this time his eyes held to the clock. Robin groans. There’s still three hours left of their shift.
     You’re in your room wallowing, or doing what’d you call attempting not to wallow but failing at it miserably. You haven’t touched a single page of your book, mostly content to just listen to sad records and more or less stare at the wall. It was stupid, you knew, to behave in such a way over some guy. But it didn’t feel like some guy. It was Steve, after all. It all felt deeper than just some guy. You two had been through a lot together, more than most people have been, and if you’d just ruined your friendship with someone you always felt safe, felt at home with, over feelings you couldn’t control and probably would be better off not having, you were going to need some serious therapy.
     It probably was silly of the two of you to start this thing up anyway, you reason, fighting back your urge to do any further crying into a pillow. You try to focus on painting your nails a nice shade of dark blue but it reminds you of Steve’s old Scoops uniform and of that night (and all that nights that followed) so you stop in the middle of your second thumb and grab nail polish remover and start scrubbing away at your finished right hand.
“Fuckin’ ridiculous,” you mutter, the cotton ball in your hand soaked through with blue and your nails discolored and muddy. “I am ridiculous,” you say to yourself, shaking off your wet hand. Your room is filled with the smell of acetone and disappointment. You think about lighting a candle when your doorbell rings. You debate answering it before it rings again. And then again. And again, more frenzied this time.
    You open the door to a distressed Steve. His cheeks are red and he’s breathing like he can’t anymore. He’s not the multi-star athlete he was in high school, he realizes in this moment. “Did you- did you just run here from work?” You ask him, but he’s already too close to you, not answering your question, gazing at you because simply looking isn’t enough and has never been enough. He is gazing. He is flush with adoration. It’s hard not to bloom under that radiance. He makes you want to forget everything and go back to plush lips on hot skin and the quiet contentment that came alongside being with him in those first few months. You back up a little into your doorway but he steps up to you, following your steps. “Where’s your car-“
    “Forget that for a sec,” he says, and you stop talking out of surprise. “Just, just tell me if we do this it’ll be okay, and we won’t be terrible for each other, and we’ll be good,” because he needs to hear it, even if it’s ridiculous and he’s jinxing it before it’s begun he needs to know you’re right there with him. “Like, just tell me it can be easy this once. If you broke my heart I don’t know if I’d be able to handle it. ‘Cause I love you. I do. And I want this.” And you get it. He’s letting you get it. He’s letting you all the way in. You realize, flustered and basking in it, that he’s the first one to say those words. That you hadn’t even said them when you posed your first question. But he’s saying them out loud and it’s brilliant and beautiful. He is beautiful.
    It makes you want to weep, the love that swells here, out in the open. “Fuck, Steve, what type of girl do you think I am, breaking the heart of the guy I’ve been in love with since he started sneaking into my bedroom?” He smiles. He glows. It’s so beautifully Steve. Maybe it can be easy.
    When he kisses you, he proves it: the ease, the tranquility. He is fervent and burning. Everything is urgent with Steve. Especially kissing. He captures every bit of you immediately. His touch is light when he urges you out of your doorway and into your living room so he can shut your front door and quit giving the neighbors what he’s sure is the show of a lifetime. It is for him, at least.
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Fic things I will never have enough of/get over:
“Oh no, they’re hot.”
“Great, now there’s two of them.”
See above but with more swearing and feelings of dread and impending doom
BAMFs with swords
Old wise person causing 90% of the chaos
“They’ve never met in canon.” “Actually, they’re dating.”
“They’re mortal enemies.” “Actually, they’re married.”
The keeper of the braincell
Sharing one braincell but they lost it
The cinnamon roll goes feral
Tiny feral child and their supportive, enabling, non-parental background adults
“I’m your problem now”
“Welp, guess I’m a parent now”
Accidental world domination
Competence
Competence kink
Calmly sipping tea while everything behind them is on fire
Trying to be a good, supportive adult but you have no point of reference so you end up giving a sword to a ten-year-old
Time travel
Person A and person B start dating and when they tell everyone persons C-Q are confused because haven’t they been dating for like three years now and persons R-Z thought they were already married
*does something previously thought to be impossible* “What, like it’s hard?”
Platonic besties that will help hide the bodies
Fake dating
Accidental baby acquisition
Accidental baby acquisition but they’re a middle-aged to senior adult with like five thirty-something-year-olds that are now their children
Crossovers that shouldn’t work but do
“I need help” “I’ll grab the shovel” “Not that kind of help”
“I didn’t know where else to go.”
Well-written non-canon pairings for characters that have other firmly established canon pairings. Like, fully alters the entire story line non-canon pairings. But done in a way that feels like a reasonable possible outcome.
A protagonist with a million problems to solve still taking the time to be kind
Forehead kisses
Time traveller going apeshit and fixing everything preferably in as Mary-Sue a way as possible
OP character who is oblivious to the fact that they are indeed OP
Character who spouts off increasingly concerning details of their life while not realizing everyone else’s growing concern or the fact that they’re probably about to be mother-henned for the next decade
Character who chooses a parental figure and informs said parental figure of this new development with little to no forewarning
Strong, stoic character is actually the most chaotic one there
Everything in the chaotic portion of the alignment chart
Getting back at a bad guy in as petty a way as possible
Time travel with two or more time travellers who don’t realize they’re not the only time traveller
The guy everyone thinks is going to beat up all the bad guys sitting back and watching the person previously believed to be as strong as an uncooked noodle absolutely demolish them
Any situation where characters play hot potato with a position of great power. “Congrats, you’re king now.” “Not if you can’t catch me, I’m not.”
Unexpected language skills
Unexpected skills in general, particularly if they’re as niche as hell
Two extremely competent individuals who lose all brain cells when within a close proximity of each other
Fixing problems on accident
Fixing problems on accident while actively trying to cause problems on purpose
Surviving primarily due to spite
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seonghwaddict · 2 months
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mirror mirror — jung wooyoung
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in which wooyoung hates it when you call yourself anything less than beautiful.
bf!jung wooyoung x fem!reader. genre. established relationship. fluff. slight angst. smut. warnings. reader wears a dress, reader is a little insecure, explicit sexual content mdni, mirror sex, fingering, praise, soft dom!wooyoung, overstimulation, nicknames (baby, babe, babygirl, pretty girl). wc. 1.3k. rating. mature.
lilo’s notes. i’ll try to post as much as i can in the next few days as i likely won’t be online much for the two weeks after the next one!!
listening to. aphrodite by rini
masterlist.
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you came home from a long day out with your friends, shopping and whatnot. as soon as you stepped through the front door of the small apartment you shared with your boyfriend, he felt himself get dragged from the couch to the bedroom, pushed down to sit on the bed while you set some bags down in the walk-in closet.
“what’re you doing, baby?” he’d laughed, leaning back with his palms planted on the mattress.
“let me show you the clothes i got!” even though he’d been in the middle of watching a movie, he couldn’t say no to the excited look on your face.
you closed the door of the walk-in closet to change. he thought it was cute, really—he’d seen you naked many times yet you were still too shy to change in front of him. each time you stepped out of the closet you were wearing something new, some skirts, some hoodies. you’d twirl around, he’d tell you how beautiful he thought you were, and you’d return to the closet to change into another thing, face warm from his praises.
even though he gave different opinions on each clothing item, wooyoung knew he’d find you attractive no matter what you wore.
one time, you let him style you when neither of you had places to be due to a storm. his laugher echoed through the apartment as you wore exactly what he chose. a blue shark onesie he’d found stuffed into a corner of your side of the closet. it was silly and you hadn’t worn it in years, but he still thought you were the cutest thing he’d laid his eyes on.
the final thing you showed him was a little babydoll dress, the silky fabric a light pink. the hem was lined with little white ruffles and reached between the middle of your thighs and your hips. clearly meant to be used as a nightgown, the skirt flowed smoothly as you twirled around.
wooyoung stared, in awe by your figure. his tongue darted out to lick his suddenly dry lips, mouth opening to say something before closing again. he couldn’t believe he was so lucky to see you like this.
you, however, mistook his lack of words, hesitantly turning around to look at the mirror across from the bed with a frown, fiddling with the hem of the dress nervously.
“i think… i think it’s a nice dress.” your voice was quiet, meek, the corners of your lips tugged into a light frown. “it probably would look better on anyone else, though…”
wooyoung snapped out if his trance at that, brows furrowing as he looked at your face through the mirror before he came to the realisation that you’re second guessing yourself because of him.
“that’s not true, i think you look great in it. more than great, even,” he was quick to reassure you but you didn’t respond, only glancing at his reflection for a second before looking away with flushed cheeks. “come here, baby.”
his hands reached out to your hips, turning you to face him and pulling you to stand between his spread knees. his hands gave your hips a gentle squeeze, thumbs caressing the soft fabric as he looked up at you with the most tender of eyes.
“you’re the most beautiful girl in the world, you know,” he whispered, placing a quick kiss to the tiny bow between your breasts, “i don’t want you to ever think otherwise, okay?”
“but-“
“no buts.” he cut you off firmly, eyebrows furrowed before his features softened again. a wave of silence washed over the two of you, butterflies raging in your stomach with each caress of his hands. his eyes diverted from yours for a moment, an idea flashing in his mind as he caught sight of the mirror before looking back up at you.
“let me show you how pretty you are to me, baby.”
without waiting for you to respond, he turned you around once more and dragged you onto his lap. his grey sweatpants felt warm beneath your bare legs, the nightgown barely covering you as you leaned to rest your back against his firm chest. a shudder nearly ran through your body as he pressed tender kisses to your neck before resting his chin on your shoulder, eyes licking with your through the mirror.
“so lovely and all for me,” he muttered against your ear lowly, holding you in place with his hands on your thigh. “i wanted to rip this dress off you as soon as you walked through the door. though i’m sure you knew that, hm?”
one of his hands moved up, pinching the ruffles between his fingers and lifting the skirt to reveal you hadn’t put on panties when you changed into this. you opened your mouth to say something but he beat you to it, chuckling at how flustered you looked.
“it’s okay, babe, no need to be embarrassed.” he pressed a kiss behind your ear, lingering for a moment before reconnecting his gaze with yours. more hushed words left his plush lips but you had a hard time comprehending them, distracted by how one hand travelled upwards to squeeze one of your breasts through the dress while the other hooked your legs on either side of his.
before you knew it, you were a whimpering mess on his lap. he’d nudged the thin strap if the dress from your shoulders, letting it pool at your waist. you felt him everywhere. one hand between your legs and the other alternating between squeezing your breasts and reading your nipples. his lips busied themselves with whispering dirty praised against your ear, pausing to kiss, bite and suck at your neck or shoulders.
you whined his name as a second finger slipped into you, pushing in until his second knuckle, prodding at that spot that had you seeing stars, before pulling out again just to repeat it over and over again. his thumb circled your swollen clit steadily, wet sounds made by his fingers rubbing against your slick.
and when you finished in five minutes, you gasped and cried out softly, fingers digging into the comforter of your bed as you back arched off his chest. his fingers pulled out but he continued rubbing slow circles on your clit, helping you ride out your orgasm.
“there you go, babygirl,” a kiss against your temple and another below your jaw, “look at yourself.”
his hand left your breast to take ahold of your chin, directing you to face the mirror. your hair was dishevelled and eyes barely open, chest heaving with heavy breaths, nipples erect. your thighs twitched with each circle of his middle and ring fingers. you couldn’t see your core, covered by his hand, but the soft lamp light made the slick smeared at the top of your inner thighs glisten with each twitch. beautiful.
“see how pretty you are now?” he cooed softly, finding the way you twitch from the gentle overstimulation adorable. “who’s my pretty girl, hm? say it, baby.”
“i-i am.”
“that’s right,” you watched his reflection nod before both his hands moved to your waist, pulling the nightgown over your head and tossing aside. a kiss between your shoulders, just below the base if your neck. “so you know you’re pretty now?”
you respond with a nod of your own.
“that’s my good girl. now,” he lifted you off his lap and a moment later you were placed on the bed as he kneeled between your legs, nudging your shoulder to lay down, winking. “lay back and relax, baby, i’m not done with you yet.”
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networks. @cromernet @wonderlandnet @cultofdionysusnet
taglist. @ad0rechuu @sankatchu @mlink64 @yeosangsbb @seonghwasbbgirl @likexaxdaydream @dreamingofyeo
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bellaxgiornata · 5 months
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Underneath the Mistletoe
Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader Word Count: 4.8k
Summary: Tired of enduring the obvious pining between you and Matt, Foggy and Karen plan a way to get you and Matt to admit your feelings - or at least to kiss.
Warnings/tags: Nothing but holiday fluff and first kisses
a/n: Finally I managed to get a holiday fic written with everything going on here for me for at least one of my boys! This one grew longer than anticipated but I hope y'all enjoy! Feedback is always appreciated!
Matt Murdock One Shot Tag List: @pazii @shouldbestudying41 @kmc1989 @ebathory997 @mattkinsella @yeonalie @shiorimakibawrites @xxdrixx @wkndwlff @leikelle @pinkratts @lazyxsquirrel @1988-fiend @marvelcinematiquniverse @carstairswife @stilldreaming666 @kiwwia-wiwwia @willwork4dilfs @will-delete-this-later-probably @mattmurdocks6thscaleapartment @theetherealbloom @yarrystyleeza @dramaholic18
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Walking in step beside Foggy with her heels clacking along the sidewalk, Karen twirled the branch of mistletoe in her hand, her eyes transfixed on it as it spun. A soft laugh lightly fell from her lips as she shook her head at the fresh clipping. Glancing over her shoulder, she shot Foggy a questioning look beside her. The movement caught his attention and he shifted towards her, catching her eye in return.
“What?” Foggy asked. “What's with that look?”
Karen raised her hand, holding out the mistletoe towards him. One blonde brow rose up onto her forehead skeptically as she eyed him.
“I don't know, Fog,” she mused. “Do you really think this is going to accomplish anything tonight?”
Foggy let out a huff as he reached out, snatching the branch from her hand. He glared playfully back at Karen as Josie’s bar came into view farther down the block.
“Of course it is!” he exclaimed. “Because it's mistletoe , Karen! When two people stand under it, they are required to kiss.”
Karen rolled her eyes, waving a dismissive hand at him. “I know what it is, Fog,” she replied. “But do you think it'll actually get them to kiss? Or even go so far as to admit that they have feelings for each other?”
“It has to,” Foggy answered firmly. “Because I for one am personally tired of Matt making plans to come to Josie’s on specific nights after work, at specific times, just to run into our pretty new friend who often comes here alone because she's quite clearly smitten by our dear, frustrating Matthew. I mean, aren't you tired of watching all the obvious pining, too?”
Karen expelled an audible breath, a wispy cloud of water vapor forming in the air in front of her before it dispersed into the frigid night. Running a gloved hand through her hair, she nodded.
“Yeah, I am,” she agreed. “I mean it's so clear that she's interested in him with the way her eyes are always glued to him whenever he's around. Always smiling at him. And Matt is always finding ways to flirt with her. Or constantly inviting her to meet us back at Josie’s whenever he can–there's absolutely no way he can deny it, either. There's clearly something there.”
“So tonight we'll just…help them along,” Foggy told her, a glimmer of mischief in his eyes. “Right? Just to get them to stop dancing around their feelings with a little, festive nudge. That's all.”
Slowly, a devious smile spread itself across Karen’s lips as the pair came to a stop in front of the bar. Foggy shot Karen a conspiratorial wink before he opened the door to the bar, a burst of warm air wafting out immediately. He waved her inside before following after her, his eyes scanning the room for Josie. The moment he spotted her behind the bar he held up the branch of mistletoe in the air high above his head.
“Josie!” he called out. 
Behind the bar, Josie’s head darted up from the bottle of beer she was opening for a patron. When recognition dawned on her face at who had called for her, she shot the pair of them a flat look. 
“What do you want, Nelson?” she called back.
“Two beers and your permission to hang this up in your fine establishment,” Foggy answered her, waving the mistletoe above his head again. 
Josie eyed the branch for a moment before dramatically rolling her eyes. “Whatever,” she shot back, focusing back on opening the bottle of beer. “Just as long as you aren't expecting me to kiss you tonight.”
“Aww, Josie,” Foggy cooed, “you wound me so! And on such a magical evening no less.”
“Pay your tab and it'll be a magical evening,” Josie quipped back.
Beside Foggy, Karen threw a hand over her mouth as a giggle bubbled up out of her. Foggy shot Karen yet another playful glare before he led the way over towards the bar, eager to see how the night would unfold.
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“Ugh, it was such a good look on his face, too!” Foggy exclaimed, slamming his palm onto the small wooden table for emphasis. “I mean, when Matt dropped that line to the jury, you could just see the color drain from Samson's face! It was beautiful !”
A smile pulled at the corner of your lips as you glanced down at the bottle of beer before you. You'd made your way through the flurry of snowflakes outside once you'd left your office, walking all the way over to Josie’s just so you could meet up with the three lawyers you'd strangely come to befriend here over the past few months. 
The three of them often loved to celebrate their wins in court here, something you had quickly found yourself invited to as if you'd always been part of the group–or the law firm of Nelson, Murdock, and Page itself–instead of just having been the woman at the bar Foggy had once accidentally spilled a drink on before insisting that he buy you your next drink to apologize. After that night when you'd met his friends, you usually found yourself joining them at this little dive bar on a weekly basis. 
And it was no surprise to you that the three of them would be here again this evening because you'd seen them here only two nights ago when Matt himself had asked if you'd join them again. It was quite a confident gesture of him to invite you out to celebrate their win already that night, too, considering the trial hadn’t even happened yet–though confidence bordering on cockiness seemed the norm when it came to Matthew Murdock. Initially you hadn't been planning to come out tonight, but the moment his red lenses had focused on you from across the table and he had flashed you that charming smile on his handsome face, you knew you'd change your plans just to spend another few hours in his presence. You couldn't exactly resist the attractive lawyer who was always flashing smiles in your direction, and he often wasn't far from your mind whenever you weren’t here. 
But of course you'd never admit that. 
“It was pretty entertaining, I'll agree,” Karen replied.
Across the table from you, Matt shifted in his chair. The moment his knee brushed yours underneath the table, your hand tightened around your beer bottle. Inhaling a sharp breath, you sat entirely still in your seat, glad Matt couldn't see your reaction. Though you could feel the heat rising up your neck as your knee felt like it was pleasantly tingling from the brief contact with his. Across from you, Matt cleared his throat, one of his large hands rising from the table and tugging at the collar of his tie. You fought hard to not openly stare at his fingers as they pulled at the fabric, a tight smile slipping onto his lips.
“If only I could have witnessed it,” Matt added.
Internally you agreed. You could only imagine what it would be like to see Matt in action, delivering such powerful and impassioned speeches that you'd only ever drunkenly heard him recite in bits and pieces after the fact at Josie’s. You'd love to see him with his tie done up tight and his suit jacket on, his broad shoulders squared in that confident manner he had as he walked around the courtroom as if he owned it. Which you knew he must do in court because you saw him do it every time he entered this bar. 
And it never failed to turn you on.
You knew it was stupid and foolish, but you wanted him horribly; you always had ever since the night he held out his hand to you and told you his name. He was a beautiful mystery, always so observant for a man lacking one of his senses. And he was charming and flirtatious, which often threw you off even though you assumed it was just his personality. Admittedly you had a crush on him, one you were too afraid to ever confess because he seemed far too out of your league. 
“Hey,” Foggy said, cutting through your thoughts, “what do you all say to a game of pool tonight? Guys against gals?”
Attention shifting to Foggy who was sitting beside Matt, you noticed the way his eyes were darting around the three of you. Eyes narrowing curiously for a moment, you wondered what was with the look he seemed to keep shooting Karen. Out of the corner of your eye, you swore you saw Matt’s dark brow rise curiously above his glasses as if he somehow had also detected something strange in the way Foggy had suggested the game of pool. 
“I don't know,” you began slowly, eyeing the three of them. “I think maybe tonight I'll sit the game out. I'm pretty worn out from work today, I don't think I’m up for a game.”
Foggy’s eyes immediately went wide, his mouth falling open as he gaped at you. Your bottom lip slipped between your teeth awkwardly as you sent him a sheepish smile.
“Oh come on!” Foggy pressed. “It’ll be fun! I promise!”
“Sorry,” you muttered, shrugging lightly. “Not tonight for me.”
Foggy opened his mouth as if he was about to immediately protest, but you felt a hand lightly land on your shoulder. Glancing to your left, you spotted Karen shooting you a wide smile as her piercing blue eyes locked onto yours.
“That’s alright, Fog,” Karen said quickly. “You boys can play a game and the two of us can watch and chat. Right?”
“Oh, uh, yeah, sure,” you stammered out, confused about the way she was eyeing you while Foggy was staring intensely at the side of her head. “That–that sounds good.”
“Great!” Karen exclaimed as her hand released your shoulder and she slid her chair back. “Let’s go grab another table then.”
Brows furrowed together, you carefully pushed your chair back and rose to your feet along with everyone else. Reaching a hand out, you grabbed your drink from off the table before making your way around it. Though it didn’t escape your notice that Matt still seemed to be wearing a similar look of skepticism on his face. Clearly you weren’t the only one thinking the two seemed off tonight.
Silently you followed behind Karen as she picked out an empty table just beside the pool table and gracefully slid into the seat, sending you a friendly smile as she caught your eye. You returned the gesture, slowly slipping into the seat across from her as Foggy led Matt towards the pool table. Almost involuntarily your eyes flew over to Matt when you saw him set his drink down and begin rolling up his dress sleeves while you settled into your chair. You always did enjoy seeing his muscular forearms covered in those dark hairs, but unfortunately because it was December, he didn’t often roll them up. Though something above his head caught your eye as he was rolling up his left sleeve and you glanced up.
Eyes widening in surprise, you stared at the branch of mistletoe hanging directly above him. That was the last thing you’d have expected to find at Josie’s. She certainly didn’t seem like the type of woman who’d go hanging holiday decorations of any sort in her bar, let alone mistletoe . You were suddenly even more grateful that you’d decided not to play pool tonight so you wouldn’t have to avoid standing beneath it all night. 
“So,” Karen began, the conspiratorial lowering of her voice drawing your eye back to her as she leaned forward towards you, “there’s something I’ve been dying to know for awhile and we never really get a chance to chat as just us girls so I haven't had the opportunity to ask.”
Raising your beer bottle to your lips, you took a deep drink from it under the weight of Karen’s stare. You had a feeling you’d need the liquid courage for whatever question she was about to ask you. Swallowing the drink down, you soon cleared your throat, fighting to keep your gaze on Karen and not Matt as he let out a bark of laughter that had your stomach squirming. He always looked unbelievably handsome with a broad smile spread over his beautiful lips–a look you enjoyed seeing on him. It was difficult not to glance at the sight.
“What’s uh, what’s on your mind?” you asked hesitantly. 
Her dark pink lips curled ever higher as she leaned further forward, placing her elbows onto the table. Her head tilted a bit to the side, a few strands of blonde hair falling forward and framing her face. The angelic appearance wasn’t fooling you though and your stomach twisted nervously.
“Do you like Matt?” she asked bluntly.
It felt like your heart stopped as the sound of billiard balls clacking together on the nearby pool table rang through your ears. Your lips parted in surprise before you could mask your reaction. Despite the fact that you had a feeling she was going to ask you something along those lines, hearing the question aloud still startled you. Out of the corner of your eye, you swore you saw Matt’s head turn in the direction of your table. Though there was absolutely no way he could’ve overheard Karen with how quietly she’d asked the question, but that didn’t stop the heat from once again rising up your neck and reaching your face.
“Oh, well, of course,” you replied awkwardly, pushing a few strands of hair from your face as you focused on your beer bottle. “I like all of you. That's–that's why I'm always here hanging out with you three.”
Nervously glancing up from under your lashes, you saw Karen’s face twist into a look that clearly said that wasn't what she'd meant at all. You shot her a nervous smile, hoping she wouldn't push it. Though as you grabbed your bottle of beer and brought it to your lips for another pull, it was obvious she wasn't letting this go.
“I don't mean do you like Matt as a friend,” she clarified. “I meant are you interested in him? Romantically speaking?”
Nearly choking as you swallowed your drink, you covered your mouth as you coughed into your hand. You weren't getting out of answering this apparently. It didn't help that it seemed both Foggy and Matt were glancing at your table as you sputtered on the beer, both of them shooting you curious and questioning looks. Across the table, Karen continued to smile innocently back at you as she waited for you to recover.
A few moments later you did, trying to wipe your now clammy hands on the thighs of your dress pants. Your eyes dropped down to the sticky wooden table as you thought about how to answer. Surely she wouldn't believe you if you said no considering the knowing look she was currently giving you. And if you answered truthfully but quietly there was no way Matt should be able to overhear the conversation at least. Right?
At the thought of him, your eyes nervously darted over to the pool table. Matt was lining up a shot, bent in half over the table and angling the cue in his hands.
“It's sort of hard not to like him like that,” you replied softly, eyes still lingering on him. “I mean he's…sweet. And funny. And incredibly smart and self-assured. Confident. Obviously very handsome. But I mean he's…”
Your voice trailed off, your attention still on Matt as he remained bent over the pool table. Brows lightly furrowing, it seemed like he was taking longer than usual to make his shot. A glance at Foggy beside him had you thinking he'd noticed it, too. Briefly you wondered what he was doing until Karen’s voice broke through your thoughts. 
“He's what?” she pressed. 
Sighing, your attention returned to your almost empty bottle of beer. Unclasping a hand from your lap, you reached out and grabbed the neck of the bottle. You shrugged lightly, unable to meet her gaze.
“Too far out of my league,” you muttered. 
Drawing the bottle up to your lips, you finished the last of the beer. As you lowered the empty bottle back to the table, swallowing down your drink, you spotted Karen shooting Foggy a look. You couldn't possibly have been imagining it now, clearly they were up to something. But before you could figure out what, Karen spun back around in her seat and shot you a bright smile.
“Look at that, you already finished your drink. How about I get the next round of drinks before we continue this conversation?” she offered.
She quickly pushed her chair back before you could reply, her attention focusing on Matt and Foggy. Eyebrows drawing together, a nervous feeling swirled in your stomach, mingling with the alcohol. 
“You boys need another round of beers?” Karen called over to them. “On me this time, in honor of our win earlier today?”
Matt's head tilted a bit to the side as he focused on her. “Oh, I don't–”
“Of course!” Foggy exclaimed loudly, cutting Matt off as he clapped him on the shoulder. “And you know what? I'll come with and help you grab them.”
Before you even knew what was happening, Foggy was waving you over enthusiastically with a hand. That nervous feeling only grew in your stomach when Karen turned, glancing over her shoulder at you with that bright smile that was clearly meant to be hiding something as Foggy called out your name. 
“Why don’t you come keep Matt company?” Foggy suggested. “And you know, make sure he doesn't cheat to win this game while I'm gone.”
Matt audibly scoffed, shaking his head and countering the accusation immediately. But you weren't paying too much attention to their playful banter as you awkwardly rose to your feet and began making your way over towards Matt. Instead, your eyes were occasionally darting up and eyeing that damn bit of mistletoe that Matt was once again standing directly beneath. Which was why you intentionally came to a stop at the corner of the pool table, trying to keep some distance between you, Matt, and that little bit of mistletoe. 
Though what you hadn't accounted for was Karen stumbling in her heels behind you and accidentally bumping into you, pushing you the few steps forward where you tripped directly into Matt. His hands swiftly darted out and grabbed onto your upper arms, steadying you as you tried to catch your balance. And when you finally did, you abruptly realized your own hands had flown to Matt’s very firm, solid chest to stop your fall. Your face flamed from embarrassment and you quickly withdrew them from him, crossing them over your chest awkwardly. But Matt's hands remained on your arms, keeping you close as the warmth of them seeped through the sleeves of your blouse.
“I am so sorry,” Karen suddenly began apologizing behind you. “My heel must've caught on something along the floor. I didn't mean to do that!”
“It's alright,” you replied, your face still burning as you gazed at the handsome face before you. “But uh, sorry for accidentally running into you, Matt.”
His hands slowly began to release their hold on you, that charming smile returning to his face as he remained focused on you. With how close you were standing to him, you could feel your heart slamming harder in your chest. He was just so unfairly attractive.
“Don't worry about it, sweetheart,” he assured you. 
For a moment you stood there staring back at Matt's smiling face, almost feeling mesmerized by the expression on it. But a loud gasp from just beside Matt broke you out of your staring and caused you to glance over his shoulder at Foggy. Your pulse jumped when you caught him pointing a finger at the mistletoe hanging directly above Matt and yourself. Before you had a chance to move, finally remembering that you'd been trying to avoid the damn thing, the words were already coming out of his mouth.
“It appears you and Matt have found yourself beneath some mistletoe!” Foggy exclaimed. 
Before you, Matt's head cocked to the side as his brows drew beneath his dark lenses. For some reason the smile on his face only grew wider as his covered gaze remained fixed on you.
“We have?” Matt asked curiously. 
“Oh, yes!” Karen added from your other side, pointing a finger up at the branch hanging from the ceiling. “Foggy’s right!”
A light laugh slipped out of Matt, the warmth of it raising goosebumps along your arms as you felt rooted to the spot in front of him. You weren't sure if you should move or not; whether you should attempt to run away and come up with some excuse as to why he didn't need to kiss you. But it didn't help that part of you was hoping he'd somehow want to kiss you.
“I find it quite interesting that our dear Josie would put up mistletoe in her bar,” Matt mused aloud. “She doesn't seem the type.”
“Well either way,” Foggy cut in with an awkward laugh, “it's there! And you're both standing beneath it! So you know what that means! I mean it is tradition after all.”
Eyes growing wide, you openly gaped at Foggy and Karen as she came to stand beside him, a glint of something reflecting back at you in her eyes. Your lips parted as a rush of questions raced through your mind. Had they been the ones to put up the mistletoe? Were they doing it to get you and Matt to kiss? And if that was why they'd been acting so strange tonight– why ? Why would they want you two to kiss?
The sound of Matt clearing his throat brought you back to the moment. Your mouth was still hanging open as you focused back on him, noticing the almost nervous smile now spread on his face. Why did he look nervous?
“Fog uh…has a point,” Matt said, rubbing a hand across the back of his neck. “It is tradition for two people to kiss underneath mistletoe.”
You could feel your pulse jumping in your throat at his words as behind him you noticed Foggy and Karen quietly making their way over to the bar, leaving you alone with Matt. As your gaze fell back on him before you, your mouth opened and closed a few times while you struggled to form a coherent sentence until one suddenly blurted out of you. 
“You want to kiss me?”
Your eyes instantly grew somehow wider at the question, your hand flying over your mouth to keep any further stupid thoughts from coming out of it. An adorable grin tugged at Matt's lips at your question, a small chuckle slipping out of him. Behind your hand, your teeth clamped down onto your bottom lip in sheer embarrassment. 
“Well, if we're being honest,” Matt began, one hand readjusting the glasses on his nose, “then I should admit I've wanted to kiss you for weeks now. The mistletoe is just…oddly convenient.”
Swallowing hard, you tried to control your breathing which had begun to come in shallower at his confession. He'd wanted to kiss you for weeks now? That fact had your heart hammering heavily in your chest as nerves raced through your body. You could feel your stomach flipping anxiously as you stood there entirely unsure how to respond. 
“But we uh, we certainly don't have to,” Matt said slowly, breaking the silence that had fallen between the pair of you. “I don't want to make you uncomfortable and ruin things between us.”
Feeling your opportunity to let him know how you felt slipping away, your hand flew from your mouth, hovering in the air between the pair of you as a loud ‘no!’ flew from your lips. The way Matt tilted his head at you, his brows rising up on his forehead as that grin returned to his face, had your cheeks once more burning tonight. But you couldn't let this moment slip past your fingers, not with how long you'd been thinking about it. 
“I'd like to,” you admitted awkwardly. “I mean I–I’ve wanted to–to kiss you, too.” You paused when the grin on his face grew wider, your stomach somersaulting at the sight. “Because I…I kind of have a crush on you…”
“Yeah?” he asked, head still canted to the side. “That's fortunate for me since I have a crush on you.”
“Seriously?” you whispered in disbelief.
Matt nodded, that boyish and charming grin growing ever wider on his lips. The lips you suddenly couldn't seem to take your eyes off of.
“Mhmm,” he hummed out. 
“I never knew…” you murmured, voice trailing off.
As you stood there trying to wrap your head around what he'd told you, Matt took a step closer towards you, closing the small bit of space. He reached around you, his arm almost grazing yours as he leant his pool cue up against the table. 
“So about that mistletoe,” Matt mused, lightly placing his hands on your upper arms again as he leaned towards you, causing your heart to skip. “We should…probably kiss, right?”
Your eyelids fluttered as you stared back at him, your breath catching in your throat with every inch he seemed to be drawing nearer to you. It was taking your brain far too long to comprehend what was happening, let alone to form much of a response besides the quiet ‘yes’ that slipped out of you. 
Matt's right hand released your arm and instead came up to cup your cheek. Gingerly he tilted your head, bringing your mouth in towards his as he finally closed the last remaining distance between the pair of you. The moment his lips touched yours, your eyes snapped shut.
At first his lips merely brushed against yours in a warm, gentle graze. The feeling sent a rush of excitement through your entire body as your hands flew up, gripping both of his muscular arms to steady yourself. He pulled back only a fraction from you before your lips were chasing after his, desperate for more than that soft, teasing touch.
He obliged instantly as if he knew–or had maybe heard the faint whimper of protest you'd made–and dove back forward again, connecting his mouth to yours with a bit more tenacity than before. His hand cupping your cheek held you more firmly to him as his plush lips passionately moved against yours in a way that left you gasping for air in the brief moments your mouths parted before inevitably connecting again. 
For a while neither of you seemed able to tear yourself away from the other, entirely oblivious to the entire bar around the pair of you. Your fingers had curled around the fabric of his dress shirt, gripping tight as you tried to hold yourself up. It felt like you were losing yourself entirely in Matt the longer the pair of you kissed and if you let go, you were afraid you might actually lose your balance.
Which was why it took you a minute to regain your composure when Matt finally broke the kiss. He only moved back a few inches from your face, his warm breath brushing gently over your lips as they remained parted. It was a moment before your eyelids fluttered open, taking in the sight of his smiling face before you. His lips seemed pinker as they glistened with both your saliva, the thought of which had a heat building low inside of you.  
“Can I maybe walk you home tonight?” he whispered. 
“Yes,” you replied automatically.
“And can I take you to dinner on Friday night?” he asked next. “Would that be alright?”
You nodded slowly, your eyes focused on his beautiful mouth. “Yes,” you whispered back. 
Matt's smile grew a little wider as his thumb brushed along your cheekbone. Your whole body felt like it was trembling now, your legs fighting not to give out beneath you. Your hands tightened further on his dress shirt, wrinkling the material. 
“And can I kiss you again?” he questioned.
You nodded again, this time more enthusiastically. “Please,” you breathed out. 
An amused chuckle slipped out of him as he leaned forward towards you once more. Out of the corner of your eye, just before you'd closed them again, you swore you saw Karen and Foggy exchanging a high five at the bar. But you forgot about that the moment Matt's lips were back on yours, kissing you more fervently than before as he backed you up against the pool table behind you.
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sim0nril3y · 6 months
Note
How about one where they have a huge fight with lots of angst and groveling? I just love angst so much.
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Note: my looooooove, i hope that this was okayyy, i'm not super happy with it, but it's kinda angsty with a little bit of hope towards the end. Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Civilian!Reader Warnings: No mask Simon (It's my personal headcanon in his regular life he probably wouldn't wear it), established relationship, talk of sleep struggles, canon-typical swearing.
There had been so much of your relationship that had been so difficult in the beginning. It wasn’t like there was ever a conversation that you were officially together, it just happened. It was like you never wanted to leave and equally he didn’t want that either. You simply began sleeping over at Simon’s flat, keeping some spare clothes in your car. It was because the conversation never happened that you were left trying to figure out what Simon needed or wanted from you.
It was the little things in the beginning, taking his arm in public, wrapping yourself around it. Simon was simply shrug you away, as if unwanted. You were hurt by the exchange, but it was hard to talk to him about these things because… well, it wasn’t easy to talk to Simon most of the time.
You’d try and bring up these conversations with him. You’d try and ask him what he wanted. It all came to nothing. Emotionally he struggled to voice any type of opinion or need. When you would begin the conversation Simon would simply shut it down, when you’d accuse him of being unavailable emotionally, he’d call you dramatic.
This same little argument would come up every now and then, but finally you were sick of it all, you were sick of going in circles, you were tired of not being able to make any progress, you were just annoyed by Simon shutting you out. “Where are you going?” His voice boomed from behind you.
“I’m going home.” You told him firmly, turning to look at him. “You don’t want me anywhere near you in public. The only time you’ll touch me is in your home.” You fumed at him and Simon look bewildered for a moment. “And then when I try and talk to you about it because it bothers me, you just shut me out.” You announced. “So, yes. I’m leaving. I’m frustrated and I feel like I’m not being heard.”
Simon let out a gruff noise. “You’re being dramatic.” “That’s what you always say!” You pointed a sharp finger back in his direction. “I’m telling you how I feel and you’re not listening. How am I supposed to know what is too much with you, Simon? I feel like I don’t know anything about you!” The worries that had been buried deep down came tumbling out. “I had to convince you to go on a date with me. You wouldn’t tell me what you did for a job. You’ve never mentioned any family. I haven’t met your friends.” Then shaking your head, you continue. “And you haven’t asked me any of those things either…”
For a moment he looked frustrated, turning and rubbing his hands over his face. “You won’t talk to me… I don’t even… I don’t even know what we are.” You pointed out, voice lowering sadly. “I’m not expecting you to tell me everything… I just… I want to know if I’ll ever know anything.” Simon looked rigid, like he was frozen in fear. The way that he didn’t instantly jump to comfort you or assure you only increased you hurt feelings. Simply you nodded your head and said. “Okay… well, when you figure it out… you have my number.”
With a sharp turn you left the flat, tears beginning to fill your eyes and finally spilling down your face by the time that you reached your car. As you sat there you wondered if you should have just allowed things to continue, but that didn’t feel right for you. Of course, you didn’t want to make Simon uncomfortable either, feeling like he had to tell you things he didn’t want to talk about but if you were going to be more to him than a fling then you wanted to know more about him.
The next few days you didn’t hear from Simon and deep down you had convinced yourself you were never going to hear from him again. Maybe he just wasn’t ready for that type of commitment, or maybe you just wasn���t what he was looking for in a partner, too touchy, too dramatic. It hurt because you had felt like there was a real connection, something true and pure.
Late one evening you phone began to buzz beside you. Glancing down your eyes went wide as Simon’s name flashed across the screen. Shit… Shit, was this really happening? You had to shake yourself back to reality and answer in a breathless voice. “Simon?”
“Yeah…” His voice came back hard but with something lingering beneath the surface. “I…” He paused for a moment. “My mother’s name was Mary.” It was piece of information that you hadn’t been expecting and for a long moment the line went completely silent, you simply filled the space with. “That’s a nice name.” “It’s just a name…” A tiny smile tugged at your lips as you were reminded of the first conversation you’d had with Simon. “Come to the door?”
Stepping through your flat, prying open the door Simon stood there hoody drenched with rain, hood pulled up. “Haven’t fuckin’ slept in two fuckin’ days because I can’t get you off my fuckin’ mind.” His teeth were slightly grit, like he was mad with you or maybe himself for that fact. “I don’t know what we are but I know that I don’t want to lose you because of a stupid argument.”
Frowning you crossed your arms over your chest. “I struggle with opening myself up. I struggle with letting people in. I know… I know that is frustrating for you but that is just how I am.” Simon huffed. “I wasn’t expecting you to come bulldozing into my life. You turned my life upside down.”
“You could always ask me to walk away. If it was too much for you. If it wasn’t what you were wanting…” “Like fuck.” He grumbled, shaking his head. “Like fuck am I ever going to ask you to walk away. I’ve done countless stupid fuckin’ things, but that would… I’d never forgive myself if I didn’t put everything into this…” Then he took a step towards you, looking deep into your eyes with desperation and vulnerability. “I will try and do better. I will be more open. I can’t promise it will change overnight but I will try that for you… only for you…”
The second his hands clasped your face, bringing you forward to him a tiny whimper escaped your lips. “I can’t lose you.” Simon whispered. “Not now. Not ever.” Squeezing his eyes closed and pressing his forehead against your own. “Don’t give up on me yet.” There was a mixture of emotions that were bubbling around you now. “I don’t want to force you to be something you’re not uncomfortable being…”
“And I’ve lost too many people to let you walk away because I won’t hold your hand in public.” Simon replied shortly, opening his eyes and looking down into your own again. “We will figure this out, babe. You have my word.” Lips skimming against your own now, looking for silent permission. “Promise?” “Promise.” Your lips connected into a passionate kiss then. Maybe this could be the start of something different.
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Masterlist | Ask | 12-12-2023
742 notes · View notes
loafgeto · 6 months
Text
KINKMAS DAY THREE: BONDAGE WITH KENTO
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synopsis | you can’t seem to take your hands off your husband while he’s working on an important project and taking calls. so, what better form of discipline is there than to tie you up and fuck you until he can’t anymore?
contents | fem!reader, she/her pronouns, explicit language, established relationship between reader and nanami, husband!nanami. NSFW, restriction/tied to the bed, mentions of masturbation, blowjob, slight gagging, praising, fingering, teasing, dirty talk, overstimulation, unprotected sex (p in v), deep penetration, edging, creampie (a big one), orgasms and squirting multiple times, spanking, pet names, size differences, fluff?? at the end, not proofread!!
word count | 4k
notes | i want him to tie me up just like this 🤭
tags | @aydene @biscuitsngravie @homeslices @tiredkitten @get0sfav @erensflies @bleachisfood @witchbybirth (if you want to be tagged, just let me know!)
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you sigh out of frustration, rolling from side to side in your bed and scrolling through social media on your phone, seeking for something entertaining. your husband was currently occupied, working on a project and taking calls in his office. to say that you miss his touch wasn’t an understatement— in fact, he hasn’t even touched you in weeks.
kento’s a diligent worker at his company, earning respectable positions and receiving a plausible salary, so it’s expecting of him to take responsibility of large projects and completing stacks of unfinished documents. it’s another night where he’s working on something rather important— so important that when he returned home hours ago, he immediately engulfed himself in his office.
it’s difficult not to bother kento— since, this routine has been occurring for several days in a row. by the time kento finishes for the night, you’re already in a deep slumber after waiting for him. and by the next morning when you awake, he’s already dressed and about to leave the house. it upsets you, of course, because you want to spend at least some time with your husband.
there’s a distressful situation happening with the marketing of his company, along with many others which was why he was so preoccupied and strained. problems like that don’t necessarily fix over a short span of time.
you try to fall asleep— or, force yourself to sleep. but the ache between your legs and longing for him was tremendously bothersome, and your toys weren’t much of a help because they just weren’t kento. groaning, you decide to do something that you probably shouldn’t do. it has you leaving your bed, tiptoeing towards the closed door of kento’s office, having you quietly opening the door and poke your head in as he’s speaking with the secretary of his company.
kento’s eyes shift from his computer to you immediately, and his words trail off when you step inside. the way you’re dressed in a short silk dress, kento knows you’re wearing nothing underneath but an underwear. he knows he shouldn’t be distracted by such alluring sight of his wife, and he firmly tells himself to concern about the situations of his company. but he just can’t keep his eyes away when you’re slowly walking behind of his chair.
“hey baby,” you whisper, lowering your face to plant a kiss against his cheek and draping your arms around him. your husband acknowledges you with a smile and quick nod, directing you to his phone that indicates he’s chatting with someone. you gave him a frown, gently caressing his chest while keeping your face next to his.
“not now, sweetheart,” kento replies when pushing away his phone from his ear. he gives you a peck on the lips, hoping it’d be enough to strip you away from him. but he can’t deny enjoying the feeling of you raveling around him, acting so needy for him even when aware that he’s occupied.
but knowing you, you’re too touchy, continuously clinging onto him even when he tells you no more. kento rubs circles against the palm of your hand, feeling your soft and delicate skin that he realizes he hasn’t felt in what seems like a long time. your hands travel down his chest, towards his tight abs beneath the layer of his buttoned up shirt, and back up to his biceps.
you gradually move underneath his desk, facing him on your knees with a smile as he tries to remain stoic with his boss. kento can feel blood pumping fast to his dick, tightening beneath his pants and causing him to sweat a little. your gentle caresses on his thigh was sending him over the edge— he hates how you’re messing with him like this, but he doesn’t stop it.
kento knows he hasn’t touched you in weeks, or even felt you touch him like this. he misses it— more than you think. nearly each lunch break, he’s always in the bathroom, sitting on the toilet with his hard cock in one hand and his phone in the other, playing those lecherous videos of you he’s saved over the years. he’s never admitted such action to you before, not that he was embarrassed to, he just chooses not to. pumping his length, he always imagines it’s your hands. it’s aggravating because he doesn’t end up finishing and has to return back to his shift.
however, you’re under him now— giving him the sight he’s been thinking about for weeks. he holds his breath when he feels your hand brush over the bulge of his pants, nearly grunting from the way you smirk at his reaction. unzipping his pants, you free his cock and grasp it around your hands.
kento nearly gasps out loud, choking back his groan as he feels your small hands stroke several pumps on his length— his pre-cum leaking out already, being spread around his swollen tip with your thumb. he loves the way you look, the way you’re so small compared to him.
“are you still there, kento?”
“yes— i am, sir,” kento firmly replies, glancing down at you as you kiss his tip with your soft lips. it sends vibrations throughout kento’s body— making his cock twitch in your hands. you smile, almost devilishly. “i-i apologize, can you say that again?”
“i said…” his secretary continues to speak, but kento’s attention was already drawn away when he feels your warm mouth slowly take in his throbbing cock. you bob your head slowly, panties getting more soaked from kento’s reaction— your desire for your lewd imaginations to become true was happening; which is also why you’re here in kento’s office, bothering him even though he’s working on important tasks. “..i think if we discuss this tomorrow at the meeting, we can potentially see increase in sales despite the corrupt marketing.”
“yeah, yeah. sounds good..” kento utters past his low groans, not even knowing what his secretary just explained as his attention is occupied on the feeling of your mouth sucking him in, wet tongue drooling over his cock and your hand giving sensual pumps. his cock throbs in your mouth, making you moan at an instant.
“mm- i’m so wet, kento,” you whisper and gaze up at him once you pop his dick out of your mouth, pressing his redden tip against the side of your lips while still pumping his length with a hand. something in kento immediately snaps, mainly due to your expression and your words. he’s about to lean forward, when the voice of his secretary cuts him off.
“did you get that down kento?”
“uh yeah.. i did,” kento replies to his secretary, watching intently as you return your mouth around him— already bobbing your head to push his entire cock into your mouth. well, he didn’t write anything at all, let alone hear what he was supposed to write down. while his secretary proceeds to talk, kento mutes himself, finally letting out his groans. “fucking hell- sweetheart. didn’t know that mouth of yours could take my cock so well now.”
you moan as a response, bobbing your head faster and slurping his cock deeper into your mouth. kento grunts, a hand lowering to grasp your hair as his head falls back. “f-fuck.. shit.. you’re doing s’good, sweetheart,” kento praises, gently nudging his fingers into your head.
every bob of your head you make causes kento’s core to stir. the dirty and wet sounds of your mouth sucking and licking his cock gradually driving him towards his climax. watching your small mouth pulsate around him was enough for him to cum— and you know he’s almost there. especially with the way he’s moaning louder and ignoring the calls of his secretary annoyingly inquiring if he’s still there— to the way he’s gripping his phone hard enough that it’ll smash into pieces— to the gentle pushes on your head to nudge his tip against your throat.
you gag, almost slightly, mouth quivering from being unable to take him further in. you look up at him, nearly causing kento to bust. “c’mon princess, keep going. keep taking my cock into your mouth like that,” kento continues, gently caressing the side of your cheek. “fuck, i’m about to cum.”
with that statement, you push your mouth away before wrapping two hands around his girth. with your mouth open, you place his tip on your tongue, pumping his cock to catch his cum. kento groans, eyes squinting as he uses the hand once on your cheek to grip the armrest of his chair. he’s close, nearly about to ejaculate all over until you stopped.
“babe?” kento grunts, giving you a confused look as you pull away from him completely, releasing your hands around his cock. you give him a smile, indicating you’re not letting him cum that easily before standing up. kento’s expression turns to a state of disbelief, brows furrowing as he watches you walk away.
“good luck on your work, honey~” you stick your tongue out at him as you give him one last look, opening the door and exiting with a quiet giggle.
during the session of giving your husband a blowjob, you initially thought about edging him— since you know it’ll bother him more than anything, which causes him to be more distracted from his work. it’s happen before, not on many occasions, but during situations like this— most definitely. in your perception, it’s the only way to get kento away from his computer. besides, he needs a decent break.
after you leave, kento’s just sitting there, upset at how you didn’t allow him to cum. he sighs, already becoming defeated in this scheme of yours. kento’s already going mad at this point, he just couldn’t resist his wife at all.
with another sigh, he unmutes himself, cutting off his secretary who’s speaking, “i apologize, sir. i have to go now. my wife…” kento starts, hand traveling to his pelvic area. “my wife got into a small accident.. i have to help her,” he finishes the excuse, gripping his phone and ending the call before his secretary could get another word out.
kento sets his phone aside, quickly zipping his pants before stomping out of the office and towards the master bedroom. he immediately detects you laying on the bed, flat on your stomach, eyes on your phone and pretending to look at something. with the back of your head facing him, you’re unable to see him enter the room— though you hear the faint sounds of his footsteps.
“babe,” kento calls out firmly, but you don’t reply.
during moments like this, you typically ignore him, intentionally— but for fun, since you found entertainment in your husband’s whiny calls for your attention. however, you didn’t expect tonight to be different. severely different.
“you’re just going to avoid me like that after edging me?” kento’s question rings yours ears, causing you to respond with a short hum. you didn’t turn your head as you smile, only swinging your legs as an act to inform him that it was intentional.
you can feel the bed sink down slightly as kento climbs on, crawling towards your body and hovering over you. the least expected thing on your mind was that he’d grab your phone, gently tossing it to the side and grasping both of your wrists with one hand. you finally turn your head, lifting your gaze at kento as he pulls the dotted pattern tie around his neck.
“kento?” you raise a brow.
“disciplining you for distracting me away from my work,” kento responds, lacing the necktie around your wrists and then around one of the legs of the headboard. your eyes widen, feeling how secure your wrists were together with the headboard, and you watch as your husband slowly unbuttons his shirt. “and how you edged me earlier like that. y’know how that makes me feel, princess.”
“k-kento.. baby-“ you squirm, eyes lifting to your wrists bind to the headboard. somehow, this was kinky— being tied up while your partner gets to do anything to you. your legs quiver at the anticipation of what was going to occur next as kento slips off your panties, tossing them aside before positioning two fingers at your entrance.
kento doesn’t utter another word before pushing his fingers past your folds, sinking them into your heat and slowly thrusting them. your eyes widen at the sensation of his fingers spreading your velvet walls, moans plummeting from your mouth as your head falls forward to the pillows.
"w-wait! kento!” you gasp, yet your husband doesn’t stop at all, fingering your pussy from behind while still hovering his body over you. he presses soft kisses on your shoulder, nearing your ear with a short coo. “isn’t this what you wanted though, sweetheart?” he questions, his raspy voice causing your walls to pulsate around him.
right, this is what you want. what you both have been wanting for weeks now. you moan as a response, shutting your eyes as he prods his fingers far into your cunt, curling against your g-spot and stirring your core. kento never fails to please you, even when you don’t remember the feeling of his touch because of how apart you two have been. and once you do, it’s like you’re falling in love with kento again.
“f-fuckkk.. i’m gonna cum— soon, kento,” you manage to slip out, eyes rolling back as his fingers thrust faster, his palm slapping against your vulva. you couldn’t see your husband’s face, but it was flushed from the way you’re practically a mess underneath him already. his wife tied up in his favorite tie that he had received from you years ago, maybe he might like this more than he thought.
however, kento was pretty serious about disciplining you for such actions— he has his ideas, ways that’ll have you crying, even begging. he thrusts his fingers in a quicker pace when being notified that you were close to your orgasm, smiling wider when the pitch of your moans became clearer, solely just because of his fingers.
“i’m just getting started though,” kento replies, almost in a cunning tone. he’s passionate, especially in bed, and this new persona of his was quite appalling. but it’s likable, since it’s coming from your husband. your walls tense around his fingers as you’re about to cum, gripping the material of the necktie around your wrists, your face falls forward and all you can chant over and over is kento’s name.
“shitshit, ken’ i’m—“
your words pause when he stops, immediately pushing his fingers out just when you’re about to cum all over him. with a gasp, you whip your head around, giving your husband that similar expression he gave you earlier ago. kento smiles, eyes lowering to his fingers that were coated with your arousal ppl he asserts his attention to the tight bulge of his pants, cock still aching from being unable to release earlier.
“y’know how it feels now, baby?” kento questions, a hand lifting your dress further above your ass. you whine, nearly in disbelief because you thought of another outcome when you decided to edge him. but now, your husband’s giving you the taste of your own medicine. was it good? most definitely not because the ache of being edged is upmost unbearable.
“i’m sorry, darling- please-“ those words slip out as kento unzips his pants, holding his hard and throbbing cock in one hand. he gives his length several pumps, not even listening to your quiet cries for him. kento could already cum just from the sight of your pussy right there, but he wasn’t going to give in that easily.
kento lines himself at your entrance, rubbing your clit with the pad of his thumb which makes you whine and instantly shoves his cock into your aching wet cunt. you’re unable to fathom at how big he is, at how perfectly your walls spread to fit around him like it’s only for him— you came without telling him, tears welling the socket of your eyes as he groans and hovers his body over yours.
“already cumming? i just put it in, princess.”
“b-babe..” you can barely perform any audible words when kento starts thrusting his hips. he’s got you in the prone bone position, sensually fucking his cock into your gummy walls pouncing around him. a groan escapes past his lips when he feels you clench around him, slick walls glazing his girth that starts to form sloppy sounds.
the angle grants kento’s cock an imitable and deep penetration, stroking perfectly against your sensitive g-spot that’s steering you towards another orgasm. heavy moans of pleasure leave your mouth after each plunge of kento’s cock, the tears built in your eyes eventually streaming down your cheeks as your husband’s thrusts become rougher.
“my wife all tied up in her favorite necktie and already becoming a mess, what a sight,” kento comments, bucking his hips faster, ramming into your ass that starts creating sounds of skip slapping. he hadn’t felt the warmth of your pussy in what felt like forever— and he didn’t realize how much he misses it. he could dump all of his load saved up for you right now, but with the way you teased and edged him just seems to bother him a little too much.
“kento- p-please- slow down!” you manage to cry out, but he’s not listening to you, and you knew that for a fact because he just thrusts even faster. for a fact, even when he slows down, you know you’ll be pleading for him to go faster. the heavy drags of kento’s cock punishing your walls just happens to feel overwhelming, but a good overwhelming. your cries echo the room, along with the messy sounds of your wet cunt sucking him in.
“ngh- fuck, sweetheart. i’d give you all of my cum right now, but you don’t deserve it,” kento hisses, lowering his face down to press wet kisses on your shoulder. he can tell how much your womb is begging for his thick and warm load, after all— you love whenever he creampies you, stuff you in all that semen that fills your baby room to the brim.
“pl-please, kento! ‘m sorry, i didn’t mean to—“
“you didn’t mean to?” kento cuts you off, jerking his cock deep when you state your words, only causing moans to follow after. he slaps your ass just to hear you cry louder and tighten your walls around him. you want his cum, all of it— you crave for it that all you can think about being able to receive it is to apologize. “i’m—“
“stop apologizing. there’s no need for you to say sorry,” kento intervenes you again, pulling his cock out before shoving it back into your abused hole. at this point, you’re at the edge of sobbing because of how good it felt, how good his cock was since you also missed it so much. you missed kento— so, so much. “tell me. what’s a reason why my princess deserves my cum, hm?”
“i..” you pause as you’re seeing stars, overstimulated pussy and erotic cries only finishing the response to his question. you deserve his cum— because, well, you’re his lovely and beautiful wife. kento smiles, nudging his cock into your deepest parts, stumbling you towards another orgasm you can’t fight back. your grip around the necktie loosens as you’re unable to hold it much longer, all you want is for kento to fuck you endlessly, make you squirt until you can’t anymore.
every noise in the room is filthy: wet, sloppy, rough and loud. kento’s harsh thrusting causes the headboard to smack against the wall, making your quiet neighborhood possibly being able to hear what’s happening to you. the familiar knot in your stomach forms as you peak another orgasm. it’s too much to handle at that point.
“kento- you’re s’big— i c-can’t anymore!” you sob out, feeling him perch your hips up.
“yes you can princess, we’ve got all night. it’s why you drove me away from my work, no?” kento replies, slapping the side fat of your ass. he’s rambling again about you bothering him and his important work, however it’s true and you can’t deny that. “baby- oh god- i’m—“
“cumming again? how many times has it been already?” kento chuckles, guiding you onto your knees before pushing your hips back against his. he’s pounding you, his own climax he’s been withholding nearly about to unravel inside of you. for a fact, kento can control his own orgasm— despite at how it’s disturbing, especially when he wants to cum. but the night’s not over, and he’s not even close to being done with you.
the following hour consists of kento constantly pulling his cock out when you cry that you’re close, only to have you begging for him to let you cum when his redden tip is teasing against the folds of your swollen cunt. he’d flip you on your back as you’re still tied up before inserting himself back into you, thrusting roughly until you release your juices all over him again.
your mind is foggy and completely overstimulated at kento’s pace, and your tears have practically dried up since there’s no more left. all you can see is kento, your handsome husband, pumping his cock into you— along with his hair that’s usually styled up, covering his forehead due to the amount of sweat built up. you can hear his heavy breaths and moans, and your name in between them.
“i’m gonna cum now, sweetheart—“ kento groans, his body practically falling atop of yours as his thrusts become erratic. “gonna stuff your womb with all of it— ‘kay?”
“yes.. yes, kento-“ you whisper out, whiffing the scent of his hair as you’re unable to hold him close to you. “pleaseeeee.. give me all of your cum, baby.. i need it all—“
kento sinks his cock deep in your cunt, finally cumming and painting the walls of your womb with his massive load. there was so much coming out, practically making your husband quiver slightly as his body completely topples against yours. he holds you close as you’re moaning quietly at the sensation of the creampie before you’re both just panting.
your husband’s lips come in contact with your neck and down to your collarbone, and he leaves gentle pecks before he lifts his head to passionately kiss your lips. it’s more romantic than usual— you can sense his hand gently caressing your face, placing all the love he could barely give you during those past weeks. and you smile against his lips, causing him to smile too.
after, kento removes his cock from your hole, eventually watching the cum follow after and drip out, staining the sheets of your bed with the rest of your previous juices. it’s surprising to kento that he could last and control himself that long. would he do it again? definitely not, but it was an experience.
“are you still upset at me, kento?” your voice returns him back to reality and he rests his body on yours again, pressing his face into your chest.
“you think?”
“i won’t do it again, i promise.”
kento snickers, knowing damn well you will on another night like this. “it’s okay. i needed a break anyway,” he replies, raising his head to meet your exhausted gaze. he gives you another quick kiss before brushing his nose against yours. “i love you.”
“i lo—” you halt your reply, about to move your hands when you realized that you couldn’t. you forgot that you were still tied to the headboard. “you don’t get one back until you untie me.”
kento raises a brow, a faint smirk appearing in the corner of his lips as he leans his body away. “what do you mean? i never said we were done. we still have a long night ahead of us, sweetheart.”
well, shit.
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LOAFGETO. thank you for reading! please do not copy my work or publish in another media without my permission.
a/n: i’m so sorry guys, i’ve been so busy and i was rushing to complete this fic. IM SO SORRY IF ITS TERRIBLE I WAS RLLY RUSHING LIKE SO BAD. i’ll go back and proofread soon but rn i have sm other stuff to complete :( i hope you all have been well!! im almost on break so i will finally have my attention on my works and will update more<3 thanks for your support, likes + reblogs + shares are always appreciated.
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fleurriee · 1 year
Text
— a routine of kisses ; neteyam sully
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pairing ; neteyam sully x fem!reader
synopsis ; it’s routine for the two of you to tell one another i love you before succumbing to sleep, and neteyam can’t allow you to do so without uttering the words.
word count ; 1.8k
themes ; fluff, established relationship (mates)
warnings ; clingy neteyam if that counts but he’s cute so it’s kinda void??
author’s note ; i saw this & i couldn’t help myself so this fic is dedicated entirely to u, my lovely <3 @draiochtwrites​
main masterlist    request a fic!
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You and Neteyam had just begun settling down for the night, the two of you moving from one side of the tent to the other, ensuring everything was the way it should be before leaving it for the entire night. The both of you moved with fairly sluggish movements, drained from the day you had just had - Neteyam had been strenuously teaching the younger hunter’s, a task that should’ve been easy but had turned out to be more difficult than he could’ve imagined, whilst you had been with the children of the clan, spending your time teaching and playing with them.
After the day the two of you had, nothing could stop you from falling straight into your mat.
With everything finally where it needed to be, your tent tidy and ready for its own rest, you exchanged a brief look with your mate, your tired expressions speaking for themselves. Huffing with exhaustion, you slowly made your way over to the mat, flopping down until your stomach was flat against the material and your face was smushed down.
You heard a faint chuckle from somewhere above you, your mate no doubt finding your actions amusing and dramatic. The next thing you feel is Neteyam’s stomach pressed firmly against your back, his warmth radiating into your system and making you bask in the comfort he’s offering. A smile makes its way onto your lips, sighing in relief at finally being able to succumb to your dreams.
Now settled in place, you feel content enough to let your dreams take you away to another place, a world where everything is perfect and euphoric... not entirely far off from your life you experience now. Though, your dreams are slowly but surely starting to add new, smaller additions into them alongside yourself and Neteyam.
Your mate curls himself somehow impossibly closer into your figure, his tail wrapping around your thigh like it always does, the end tapping against your skin in its contented excitement . His breath fans against your neck from where his face is squished, the sensation having tingles sent down your spine. “I love you,” he mumbles, words almost inaudible if it wasn’t for the fact you were expecting such a declaration of love.
It’s some sort of routine the two of you had picked up back after you had first mated, the both of you always making sure to say I love you before falling asleep. It wasn’t anything you had planned, it was just something that happened naturally, and now, you were stuck in such a pattern.
Well, stuck was probably the wrong way to describe it, because it wasn’t like you were annoyed by it. Except tonight, you were simply too drained. The day had taken a complete toll on you, practically knocking you out as soon as your head hit the floor, so your only response to your mate was an incoherent mumble that you hoped sounded a little like the words you meant.
You’re too tired to tell, but unknown to you, Neteyam is suddenly alert, wide awake. His eyes had shot open, furrowed in confusion whilst his tail subconsciously loosened its hold from your thigh. Completely puzzled by the entire situation, he’s unsure as to why you hadn’t said it back. You always said I love you back to him before falling asleep, a part of his days he arguably looked forward to the most, because there was nothing more thrilling, more special to him, than hearing his mate declare her love to him.
It wasn’t as though he needed the confirmation that you loved him - he saw the way you looked at him; the way you acted around him; the way you kissed him; the way you spent your nights with him. No, hearing you say I love you was more of a euphoric feeling he wanted to drown in for the rest of his life, and the next.
Not hearing you say the words after all this time since you’d been mated felt off. Neteyam props himself up on his elbows, slowly beginning to lean himself over your worn out figure, eyes raking over your features as you attempt to sleep. His mind screams how you look so beautiful even when you’re not trying to, but it’s too late now - he’s overthinking.
“Yawne (beloved)...” he starts, words just a hushed whisper, hesitant. He doesn’t want to wake you from you peaceful slumber you’ve so willingly fallen into, but he can’t seem to help himself. With a gruntled hum from you as his answer, his brows furrow, carrying on and leaning just slightly closer to your face. “You didn’t say it back...”
You hum again, your mind too foggy and out of it to really understand what your mate is saying from on top of you. All you can sense is that his warmth once radiating into you has slightly started to diminish, and it has you craving for the feeling once more. Instead, you snuggle for face in closer to the mat, your body squeezing against the floor for comfort.
Neteyam needs more than a hum. “Y/n, you didn’t say it back.” This time, his voice is a little louder, wanting you to grasp every word he’s saying, and why he’s saying them. He needs you say it back. Leaning all his weight on one elbow now, he brings his other hand up to rest against your arm, shaking it gently to garner your entire attention.
He can’t sleep without you doing this for him.
Grumbling, slowly starting to come to and bear your surroundings, you turn around, now lying on your back. Your squint your eyes up at him, the lids desperately wishing to close but you will them to open. His face is only inches from your own, eyes repeatedly fleeting from looking into each of yours, a mix of worry and confusion evident. “What?” Your voice is hoarse already from having only fallen slightly asleep for just a few moments, hand rubbing your face tiredly. “Didn’t say what back?”
He’s quick with his words, desperate almost. “I love you.” Once the truth is out in the open, you realise your previous mistake of having not said the words that are so precious to your mate. A small sigh escapes your lips, eyes closing for a moment, licking your lips in contemplation. You knew it was routine for the two of you, you just hadn’t realised it meant this much to him. However, before you can even begin uttering the words he’s aching for, he takes notice of your expression, and mistakenly takes it for something else, eyes now pooling with plead for you to see his reasons. “You always say it back. What if something happens and you never said it back? I know you love me - I mean, we’re mates - but it’s ritual for us. You have to say I love you back. I need to know that you love me-”
Another sigh falls from your lips, this one accompanied by a tired chuckle from your mate’s antics. Instantly noticing that he’s isn’t about to stop in his ramblings any time soon, you reach your hand up to press it gently against his cheek. At the feeling of you close to him, his words trail off, eyes gazing down into your own. “Neteyam,” your words are softer than before, now that you know his problem. “Nothing is going to happen to either of us - we’re just going to sleep.”
In your attempt to reassure him, you can see that it does something within his system, but it’s still obvious he’s waiting for more. A pout forms on his lips when you don’t say what he wants you to, and despite wanting absolutely nothing more than to fall back asleep and not wake up until the sun was beginning to rise, you can’t help but take notice of how adorable he looks above you. Your hand snakes its way from his cheek to the back of his neck, a smile full of pure adoration caressing your features as you lean yourself higher to kiss his childish emotions away. Pulling back, you keep your lips close to his, whispering against them. “I love you, ma’teyam.”
You drop back down against the mat, keeping your eyes trained on his as he starts to smile wildly now that he’s heard you say it. Feeling your heart fluttering within your chest at the sight above you, you feel content that he can calmly fall asleep beside you now.
But, Neteyam clearly had other ideas, for you can still feel his lingering presence as he doesn’t move. When you open your eyes again, expecting to find him saying something else, you only find him smiling dumbly down at you, seemingly lost within his own world.
“What-?” You begin to question, brows furrowing as you think what he could possibly want now, when you’re suddenly cut off by an array of kisses pressed forcefully all over your features. Neteyam doesn’t pause for breath, continuously kissing one side of your face to the other - from your forehead, to your cheeks, to your nose, to your chin, everywhere but where you want him to be the most.
His hands now holding their grip against your waist, thumbs pressing light indentations within your skin, giggles tumble from your lips at the overload of sudden sensations. He doesn’t cease, though - if anything, it seems to spur him on, too caught up in the love he wishes to scream out for the world to hear. You reach your hands out to lay them against his back, repeatedly tapping for him to move. “Neteyam, stop!” You yell as quietly as you can, small laughs lingering within your words, loving the attention he has for you.
Not once does he stop, but he does slow down. This time, his lips linger against your temple, breathing his words into your skin, making sure they truly find their way home. “Ewya, I love you so much.”
If you didn’t concentrate enough, you were sure your eyes would spill over with tears. It’s painfully obvious how much he means those words, just from the seriousness in his voice, and when he pulls away, face inches above your own as your noses rub against one another, his eyes speak more than words ever could.
Everyday, you thank your lucky stars that Ewya had chosen Neteyam for you, not knowing what you’d do without him by your side, even when he woke you up simply because you forgot to tell him you loved him - a fact the entire clan already knew.
Catching your breath, a giddy smile upon your lips, you push a fallen braid back behind his ear so you can have the view of his entirety. So beautiful, you thought. “Nga yawne lu oer (I love you).” This time, you bring him down to you, smashing your lips together in an intimate, clashing kiss.
Now, you know to not forget the words next time. Although, if it always ended up like this, whose to say you wouldn’t purposefully forget?
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taglist ;
@bakugouswaif @andraga12 @draiochtwrites @teyums​ @neteyamslovrr @tinkerbelle05
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respectthepetty · 24 days
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Yak deserves all the praise for continuously checking in with Dee throughout the night during sex, but I also want to point out that Yak kept apologizing to a drunk and passed out Dee because he knew he was violating his privacy.
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He apologized when he was trying to figure out where Dee lived and even though he smiled when he picked up Dee's phone, he still apologized.
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Which makes me think that this conversation isn't all about Yak's dick.
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Yak is used to people being intimidated by him. He is a fighter. He is a scary guy.
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But Dee doesn't give a shit.
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Yak is annoyed that Dee doesn't know who he is.
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But how nice must it be to not immediately get the normal reaction from Dee that he probably gets from others.
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Yak doesn't threaten Dee with violence in the bathroom, but Dee, who is in the wrong, still argues with Yak as if he is the one who is annoyed.
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But, even then, Yak makes it clear that he isn't a mean man.
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Which is true.
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Yak is as kind as he can be in those circumstances. He apologizes to a person who is not awake to hear those apologizes. He carries Dee to his home. He fully intends to leave him once he gets into the place. He checks in throughout sex. And he asks if Dee is scared.
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Of his dick? Yeah, he directly asks that, but also of him, to which Dee sizes him up and firmly establishes that there is really nothing to be afraid of.
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Because feisty Dee is actually the scary one here when pissed off and the only reason he was "vanilla" was because he wanted Ter to believe he was vanilla, but Yak has proven to the gentle giant.
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But nobody ever gets to see that.
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Except Dee.
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