#STREAM BACK DOWN AND THE REST OF THE ALBUM

[pjms]

♡ ✧˖° ♡ ✧˖ 🤍❗️my bff❗️🤍 ♡ ✧˖° ♡ ✧˖

[glitterycvm]

☆ JJK MEN GUILTY PLEASURES ☆

[•~featuring: Satoru, Suguru, Sukuna, Choso~•]

[•~a/n: ideas? and not proofread :)~•]

|| SATORU GOJO || ☆ hidden album ☆

satoru never hid anything from you. he was very open and wouldn't hesitate if you ever asked him if you could look through his phone. nothing was on there anyway. but there was one specific album he kept hidden from you. he wasn't ever going to show it you it, he was taking it to the grave. just imagine your reaction to an album full of lewd erotic pictures of just you...

stomach resting on top of a couple of pillows to keep you steady, your head being pushed down into the mattress as satoru rails you from the back. the firm grip he has on your hip roughens as he nears his release. while you babble about how good it felt and how close you were. satoru's thrust rapidly change from rhythmic to sloppy. "where ya want it?" he grunts, the edge of his orgasm growing closer and closer.

"b-back!" you mewl, the pitch of your voice trailing higher as you reach your own orgasm. the darkness covering your eyes as you fall into a deep state of pure bliss. satoru chuckles hoarsely, and mumbles something along the lines of "anything for my dirty girl-" he pulls out of you, your cum and lubricating his cock as he begins to jerk himself off, aiming for your back. as he does he swiftly grabs his phone from beside him. the sound of his fists hitting his abs rings in your ears as he feels his orgasm take over.

long pearly white strings of cum coat your back. satoru's breathing goes heavy, as he quickly snaps a photo of the dirty sight before. seeing you completely ruined but his own cum was so attractive to him. after, he helps clean you up, completely leaving you oblivious of his dirty little photo, which he will be jerking off too when you leave.

|| SUGURU GETO || ☆ seeing ur tears ☆

usually suguru would hate to see you cry. the sight of seeing you so distressed made his heart ache. he couldn't bear to see your tear stained face, glossy glass eyes, and tears still running down your face. it was cruel. unless it was because of him. suguru hates to admit it. he loves it whenever he sees you tearing up because his cock was hitting the back of your throat so harshly.

"mm- slow down!" you exclaim, suguru pounding your mouth harshly. "nah take it" he grunts coldly. gaze on you darkens as the grip his has on your hair increases, sure to keep intense tangles. the way the tip of his cock would hit the back of your throat, making you gag loudly every time, it was sure to leave your voice raspy the next morning.

the sensations of his cock hitting the back of your throat, and the gagging, alongside with the rough harsh grip he has on your hair. it was so overwhelming and harsh. and you loved it. but it also made your eyes fill up with tears. your glossy shiny eyes looking up at suguru so innocently as he abused your mouth. ohh it turned him one so muchh

suguru smirks cockily, "aw... are ya cryin sweetie?" he coos, mocking you with an overly caring yet sarcastic tone. you roll your eyes which only fueled suguru ego and encouraged him to increase his thrusts. "pathetic crybaby." he groans a finger sliding under your eye wiping away the tears that were streaming down your face. "oh ill be makin sure those eyes roll, alright." he mumbled while pulling out your mouth. let's just say you were sobbing by the end of the night.

|| RYOMEN SUKUNA || ☆ brat taming ☆

being a brat with sukuna usually never ends well for you. usually ends with you being denied an orgasm for hours upon hours. or you would be cumming every 10 minutes. no breaks or anything. he would exhaust you so much were you would be so cock drunk you could only think about obeying him. sukuna hated to admit it. but he loved it. he loved it when you be a brat. it made him feel so powerful. knowing only he could put you in your place.

you were on your knees, the cold hardwood floors sending shivers down your spine. you were giving sukuna head or at least supposed to be. but you decided to play a dangerous game. you stroke sukunas cock slowly, placing small kitten licks all over the leaky pink tip which was covered in milky translucent precum. your tongue traced the veins of his shaft. you looked up at sukuna, who looked down at you, catching on to your ideas.

he looked down at you, with a dangerous glare. "don't be a fuckin brat." he warns. you look back up at him, your doe eyes looking up at him feigning innocence. you continue with your activities, tracing the veins on his shaft with your tongue. they were a pretty muted aquamarine which was on the greener side. you could feel them pulsate with anticipation.

"y'think you're funny?" sukuna questions, bending down to get to eye level with you. "open ya fucking mouth" he commands, aiming his cock at your lips. you open your mouth and instantly feel it get filled. sukuna groans loudly as he feels your mouth surround him. not stopping for a moment before thrusting in and out, facefucking you harshly."could've had it easy and just do what I told you to." he say, watching as you gag on his cock. "always gotta teach ya how to be good." he groans, now holding a handful of your hair. "fucking slut, needa be put in her place." he grunts, thrusts getting more and more rapid. sukuna was sure when he was done with you, you'll be a brand new person.

|| CHOSO KAMO || ☆ panty stealing ☆

before you and choso had met. he had no experience with sex at all. he knew it was to reproduce. but that was it. he had some knowledge on how it worked, yet he never understood why humans were so infatuated with the activity. that all changed though when he met you. specifically when you showed him why humans loved the concept. he understood the desires. and now became addicted to your sweet cunt. he just couldn't get enough of your cunt milking his cock, or the delicious taste of your pussy. but you had a life to attend to. so you couldn't come help choso out whenever he needed to feel those waves of ecstacy you brought him. but choso had an idea. a very dirty one

choso gulped nervously, he knew this was wrong. it was so erotic, lewd and perverted. and you didn't even know about choso's antics. he walked into your shared bedroom, pushing away the strong rays of guilt he felt. he walks over to the dresser, contemplating if he could wait just until you came home. he huffs and places a shaky hand on the handle of the bottom drawer. he slowly pulls the drawer open, revealing rows of folded panties, nice and neat. but the one that caught choso's eye was the red lacy one you wore the first night you guys fucked.

choso grabs the panties shakily, holding them in his hand for a moment before walking over towards the bed. he felt so perverted for what he was about to do. he sits on the edge of the bed, hastily yanking his sweatpants off. he rubs the panty on his clothed cock, letting out breathy shudders from the sudden sensation. choso pulls his boxers down, freeing his leaky tipped cock. he rubbed a finger around the tip, collecting the precum and coats his whole shaft with it, imagining it was your saliva or your arousal. he begins to pump his fist up and down, panty still in hand. he imagined it was your walls that suffocated him so tightly.

choso groans loudly, getting lost in the pleasure he was feeling. your panty was practically soaking with his precum while he thrusts into his fist. choso imagined it was your delicate gentle hands wrapped around his dick, imagining the way your tongue would trace his veins and lick all around his tip. the sights choso saw in his head made him let out whiney whimpers. after a little while choso felt his release approach him steadily. mumbles of your name left his lips as the pace of his hands went quicker, his eyes closed shut. the overwhelming sensation of bliss engulfed him as he reached his long awaited orgasm. he grabs your panty and cums all over it. thick but steady spurts of slight opaque cream colored cum decorates your panty. choso lets out one last hoarse groan before hearing the front door close, accompanied with a sweet "Chooo im home!!" how was he gonna explain this to you??

dividers by: @benkeibear

[crystallinestars]

I like it when you sleep, for you are so beautiful yet so unaware of it

A short-ish fluffy drabble about morning cuddles with Aventurine inspired by this gorgeous official art of him on Twitter (click the link, I promise your eyes will be blessed). I've written enough hurt/comfort for him, so it's time for some fluff. This was supposed to be short, but it somehow turned into 3 full pages.

The title for this fic is actually the title of a song (and album) made by The 1975. Check it out if you're curious!

WARNING: Contains spoilers for Aventurine's real name!

Pale sunlight shone through the half-closed curtains of the window, illuminating the room in a dim light. You slowly woke up, retaining fragments of the dream you just had as you blearily opened your eyes. You couldn’t quite remember what it was about, but the feeling of serene joy it left behind was still palpable. Such dreams were very rare for you, but perhaps the recent good dreams could be attributed to the handsome blond man sleeping beside you.

Despite the mattress’s large size, Aventurine lay in the center, ignoring his half of the bed in favor of sleeping right next to you. He had pulled you close to him last night, joking that you might feel lonely in such a large bed. You knew that in reality, he did it because having so much space between your bodies made him feel isolated. That was how you found yourself sprawled in the middle with Aventurine, your hands still intertwined from when you went to sleep last night.

Glancing at the blond, you saw him resting on his back, the covers pulled down just enough to unveil the messy state of his black pajama shirt. With all but the top button undone, the two halves of Aventurine’s shirt bunched up to reveal his toned stomach, which slowly rose up and down with every deep breath he took.

Seeing him softly snoring with his hair in disarray and pajama’ shirt all scrunched up, was an adorable sight. Aventurine’s guard was lowered around you in this moment. He allowed you to see this vulnerable side of him that nobody else had the privilege to.

With a soft chuckle, you straighten out his pajama shirt and pull the covers higher to cover his belly so he would stay warm. Reaching a hand out, you gently brushed a few stray locks of hair from his face, smoothing out his bangs and marveling at how handsome Aventurine truly was. In the pale sunlight, his hair glowed a soft gold, making him look almost angelic. While asleep, his features had a look of innocence to them that was usually absent when he was awake.

During the day, he was Aventurine, the cunning and confident gambler who bet his very life for the sake of the thrill and higher rewards. But at night, he was just Kakavasha. A lonely and empty man who sought the comfort and love you had to give. Your beloved Kakavasha.

You had the option of getting up and starting your day, but a glance at the clock told you it was only 6 am, too early for your liking. In all honesty, you would much rather stay snuggled up in the warm bed with your boyfriend and sleep for a couple more hours, which is exactly what you did.

Letting go of Aventurine’s hand, you scooted closer until your body was pressed against his side, and loosely wrapped your arms and legs around him as if you were hugging a giant teddy bear. Aventurine remained peacefully slumbering, unaware of your movements.

Resting your head on his chest, you exhaled a contented sigh, relaxing against the warmth of your boyfriend’s body. The slow and even beating of his heart assured you that he was here, he was alive and in your arms, and before long, your eyelids began to droop as sleep claimed you once more.

…

Rays of sunlight streamed through the window, landing directly on Aventurine’s face and rousing him from slumber. With a grimace, he cracked open his eyes and squinted in the bright light, before raising a hand to block out the rays. 

Morning had come, much to his dismay. 

Aventurine glanced down at you. You were pressed against his side with your head resting comfortably on his chest, arms and legs securely wrapped around him as if you didn’t want to let him go. The blond man’s heart skipped a beat, expression softening into an endeared smile. Something about the way you held him made Aventurine feel loved and protected.

Still groggy but unable to go back to sleep, Aventurine chose to remain in your warm embrace for a while longer, unwilling to get out of bed to start his busy day. Peaceful and leisurely moments with you like this one were far too few for his liking. 

The blond wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you closer while you slept, and chuckled when you let out a soft snore. 

Really, you are far too cute, he thought. Glancing at your face, Aventurine’s eyes roamed over your peaceful expression. Out of everyone he was currently acquainted with, you were one of the few who showed your genuine feelings in front of him. None of your expressions were a mask, and he still wasn’t used to someone being so open with him.

Right here in his arms, you were more vulnerable than ever, placing your complete trust in him to keep you safe. To Aventurine, your trust was one of the greatest treasures of all. He cherished the fact that you allowed him into your heart and showered him in all the love you had to give.

As much as he loved the sight of your sleeping face, the Avgin had begun to miss your pretty eyes. Those eyes that looked at him with joy and love—all things Aventurine thought he would never experience with someone again. 

With a soft sigh, he lowered his head and kissed the top of your head, basking in your presence and breathing in the familiar, comforting scent of your hair. 

He tried his best to not wake you, but you had stirred awake regardless, woken up by his caresses. Reluctantly opening your eyes, your sight was greeted with the adoring violet gaze of your beloved.

“Sorry, did I wake you?” he murmured, voice a little hoarse from sleep. Aventurine's speech was uncharacteristically soft and gentle, showing a more tender side of him that only you were privy to.

“Yeah, but it’s okay. I’m glad I got to wake up next to you for a change,” you reply with a small yawn. Aventurine usually woke up before you so he could get ready to attend a meeting or prepare for another dangerous mission, which usually resulted in you waking up alone in an empty bed.

“Oh? Did you miss me that much?” the blonde couldn’t resist teasing you, a playful grin pulling at his lips.

“Very much so,” you agree without missing a beat, refusing to let his teasing fluster you this time. Plus, it was the truth—you did miss him. Letting out a deep sigh, you nuzzled your face into his warm chest, still feeling a bit sleepy.

Aventurine fell quiet at this, his playful expression softening into something more subdued, but it lasted for only a split second before his lips curled into a familiar smile once more.

“Hey, since it’s rare for us to wake up together, how about celebrating the occasion with a delicious breakfast? I can order anything you like, just tell me what you want to eat,” he offered, already reaching for his phone on the bedside table.

You groaned, not in the mood to think about breakfast or move from your warm spot in bed just yet.

“Not yet. Give me five more minutes. Please, Kakavasha?” you whine, tightening your hold on him.

Aventurine let out an amused chuckle and sighed, finding himself unable to refuse your request. Truly, it’s a good thing you were unaware of the power you held over him because he couldn’t ever say no to you.

“Alright, alright, fine,” he relented, abandoning his phone in favor of wrapping his arms around you to hold you close. “But I expect something in return.”

You only let out a muffled sound of protest in response, but otherwise relaxed into his embrace, keeping your head comfortably resting on his chest.

Despite his teasing, Aventurine also enjoyed cuddling in bed with you like this. Sooner or later, both of you would have to get up and start your day, forced to part from one another. But Aventurine was grateful for these five extra minutes. Every minute spent with you was a minute of feeling alive again.

Even though his time was precious, he treasured these little moments with you that brought him a sense of belonging and peace.

[hysteria-things]

smut req ?! 😱

matt is streaming and you're bored so you send him little dirty texts to get him riled up while you're sitting on his bed behind him. he turns off his cam and asks you to sit on him (you can do the rest 😓🙏)

PLAYING DIRTY

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dom!matt x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you thought little texts were harmless; you were only bored and wanted some entertainment. you’ll learn that this is the first and last time you’ll be doing something like this.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUT, swearing, teasing, spanking, fingering, orgasm denial, faux-sympathy

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 578

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: thank you for 800 i love you guys so much❤️

i’m on a high rn hope you like anon!

you’ve been sending matt some dirty texts out of boredom as you sit on his bed while he streams. he’s been reading them, but not replying. half of your messages are for jokes, but you also meant it.

y/n❤️

i’m horny

please respond🙏

matthew🫶

stop it i’m almost done

you sigh loudly, opening your hidden album and finding just the right photo to send. you know for a fact that this will win him over.

y/n❤️

[attachment: 1 photo]

😇

“damn, my face cam died. sorry guys.” matt lies, his voice gaining your attention. he turns his gaming chair to face you and motions you to come over. you bite your lip in excitement as you walk over.

you go to sit on his lap but instead, he pulls you so you're laying across his lap on your stomach. “before the stream ends i think i’m going to answer some comments.”

matt’s fingertips reach to the waistband of your leggings and starts to pull them down. you help him by shimmying until they’re at your calves.

he mutes his mic and slaps your ass, taking you by surprise. you gasp loudly at the impact. “you think you’re so clever.” he mumbles, rubbing to soothe where he spanked you.

he unmutes his mic and starts scrolling through comments to answer, leaving you exposed on his lap.

your eyes almost shoot out of your head when you feel two fingers stroke your already wet folds. he starts with up and down then circular motions, a soft moan escaping your lips as he does so.

this time, he grips your ass in a warning.

when you’re wet enough he slips the two fingers inside of you, curling them and moving faster. “shit ma—”

a hand covers your mouth firmly. you look at him with puppy eyes, his brow arching as he looks down at you.

your grip on the arm of his gaming chair and moan into his hand, trying not to be too loud. he reads out another comment. “‘is y/n still there? i saw her on the bed before.’ nah, she had to go home.”

he smirks and moves his fingers more rapidly. you breathe heavily as your eyes roll to the back of your head. the sound of matt’s fingers pumping can be heard, but it’s low enough to where only you guys can hear it.

“i think i’m going to get off for tonight. thank you guys for tuning in.”

matt says some other words before turning off his PC and smacking the same cheek again. you yelp into his hand, your pussy clenches hard around his fingers. “are you going to cum, baby? i can tell that you are.”

you mumble a ‘yes’ into his hand, but he pulls his fingers out and releases his hand from your mouth. “wha-what are you—”

he tuts, now rubbing a finger on your clit. “fuck.” you exhale, a lewd sound following. “please. i want to cum.”

“i know,” he says nonchalantly, pressing harder on your sensitive area.

he gets you closer and closer to your orgasm right until it’s at its peak, but then the fucker moves away again. you whine and try to inch back onto his hand. “poor thing wants to cum so bad but she’s not going to.” he fake pouts.

then, he grabs your chin so you can look straight into his eyes. “pull shit like that again and see what happens.”

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @hearts4chris @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss

[tired-teacher-blog]

Husband Izuku who still gets misty eyed whenever he revisits your wedding photo album because he just cannot believe that you're actually his.

Husband Izuku who secretly dreamt of a life together with you ever since your first date, but he would never admit to it.

Husband Izuku who has your bright smiley face as his phone wallpaper and takes every opportunity presented to show you off to whoever is unfortunate enough to be subjected to him twittering on for hours at times about his beautiful wife, you.

Husband Izuku who showers you with gifts, with or without an occasion, and who anticipates your reaction eagerly with a goofy smile and a glint in his eye.

Husband Izuku who never fails to mention you during interviews, mouthing a shy greeting and a quiet "I love you" your way because he knows you'd be watching.

Husband Izuku who often cooks for you despite him being terrible at it, but he's stubborn and determined to learn from his mistakes because his goal is to prepare something worthy of your taste, and you love him for even trying.

Husband Izuku who dreams of having kids with you but never pushes the subject because he respects your body, and knows that you're the only one who can decide if and when to do it.

Husband Izuku who is mostly careful with your body, so sweet and attentive with his gentle touches and soft kisses as he covers every speck of you while moving slowly and deeply into your heat.

Husband Izuku who -despite his innocent demeanor- can actually sometimes be a beast during your intimate times together, pounding you into the mattress or any flat surface he can get you on, and watching as your eyes roll back and mouth falls open when you start fluttering around him as shockwaves of pleasure ripple through you.

Husband Izuku who obviously loves filling you up with his pearly seeds everytime he's allowed, and fantasizes about the day he'll finally get you pregnant.

Husband Izuku who almost chokes up when you place his hand on your belly and murmur into his ear that he is to be a father.

Husband Izuku who effortlessly memorizes every pregnancy book written, and you find it astounding that he knows about the subject more than you do.

Husband Izuku who accompanies you to every single doctor's appointment even if he has loads of work stacked up and waiting, he just gets someone to fill in for him so he wouldn't miss being with you during your checkups.

Husband Izuku who spoils you with massages because he's confident in his skills to alleviate your sore muscles and just about any discomfort you might have.

Husband Izuku who relishes watching your belly grow gradually and adores the extra weight you've put on, he simply cannot take his eyes off of you and is mesmerized by your glow.

Husband Izuku who loves kissing your baby bump and talking nerdily to your unborn child about anything and everything, until he falls asleep with his head on your lap and his hand resting on your tummy.

Husband Izuku who stands by you in the delivery room, holding your hand and encouraging you with loving words all the way through the process.

Husband Izuku who is unable to stop the stream of tears rolling down his cheeks when holding your baby for the first time.

Husband Izuku who kisses you deeply and thanks you for the greatest gift he has ever gotten, calling you his hero for being so strong and brave until the end.

Husband Izuku whose phone gallery is now filled with pictures and videos of you and the baby, drawing strength from seeing your faces whenever things get inevitably tough for the pro hero.

Husband Izuku who watches over your little family like a hawk, and whose life mission is to give you the happiness you deserve in return for what you've given him.

[queenie-ofthe-void]

“Led Zeppelin? Never heard of them,” Steve lies, like a liar. Of course he’s heard of them, thinks maybe Hop’s mentioned them before. Doesn’t really know the band well, and probably definitely couldn’t name a song. But the comment serves its purpose, and the trap is set.

Eddie calls it the Zep Campaign. Every day they’ll listen to one album, and Steve will pick his favorite song from each. Eight days for eight albums. On the last day, they’ll narrow it down to one song to rule them all– because apparently even Led Zeppelin likes the Mordor books Dustin doesn’t shut up about. 

Each day, Steve struggles to pick a favorite. Day four isn’t bad– doesn’t mind a song that is actually called Rock and Roll, which is just a lazy title in his opinion– but they’re only half way through and the songs are all starting to sound the same. An endless stream of too-fast guitar melodies and weird, wobbly sounds he’s sure he’s never heard before. The vocals are his favorite part, but the lyrics are vague and confusing.

Long story short, he’s not a fan.

But this growing thing between him and this ridiculous metalhead is new, fragile. So if it’s important to Eddie, it’s important to Steve. 

“Stevie, we really don’t have to keep doing this,” Eddie concedes. It’s day eight, the final album, and he thinks even Eddie might be desperate to listen to something different. “You’ve listened to every other album and honestly this one is the worst. They were all on drugs, and this isn’t even their sound ya know? Like it’s not even real metal.”

And honestly, Steve does know. He’s been listening to this band for eight days and yeah, all the songs sound the same. But these ones are different. Softer. He’s made it this far, and he’s nothing if not persistent for the people he loves.

Sprawled out on the floor next to the boy he likes, passing a fading joint back and forth, he thinks he can suffer a bit longer. 

“No Eds come on, we’re halfway through anyways. Just flip it over and we’ll smoke while we finish.” Eddie huffs a sigh, but Steve can see the slight uptick of his lips, reminding him of why he’s doing this. He flips the record and crawls back, presses himself flush up against Steve’s side.

The next song is long, too long to keep his attention. They burn down their joint and Steve leans heavily onto Eddie’s open chest. He gets lost staring at the vinyl art. A guy dressed in a fancy white suit sits alone in a dive bar, the only splash of color against a dull background. The bartender looks gruff, like the rest of the bar, making the man stand out even more. He wonders if that’s how he looks posted up at the Hideout during Eddie’s shows. Wonders if he looks just as out of place in Eddie’s life as this man does, even though he looks comfortable there too. 

Eddie shifts his arms around Steve, bringing him back to the present. The song has changed and Steve feels the slow melody wash over him.

“Wait,” Steve cries out, flailing up and out of Eddie’s arms as he registers the new song. It’s soft with a steady beat. It’s got synth-- the sound Eddie told him he likes in pop music. This song isn’t loud and chaotic like the rest. The voice is soothing and the lyrics are mostly simple enough. It’s different, and he can’t believe it but–

All of my love, all of my love

all of my love to you, oh

“This one. I like this song. Like actually like it.”

Eddie sits up and stares at him. He can see the dramatic shock and annoyance on Eddie’s face. But it’s doing nothing to hide his broad smile and shining eyes. 

“Steven. Stevie. Baby, sweetheart, this absolutely cannot be your favorite Zeppelin song. Out of all the songs on all the albums and all the hours of poetic melodies I’ve forced upon you, you choose the most non-Zep Zeppelin song.” Steve laughs sweetly as he watches Eddie fail to keep the glee out of his supposedly annoyed voice.

The cup is raised, the toast is made yet again

One voice is clear above the din

“This song isn’t even metall!" Eddie screeches. He rants and raves, waiving his arms as he regales Steve with all of the reasons he should absolutely not like this one particular song. He's shining with happiness, dial turned up to a hundred and it's all aimed at Steve. He can't help but to gaze back fondly, enraptured in the adorably obnoxious spectacle.

"It’s all synth, almost no guitar because Page didn’t even write this one! He wrote all of them except two songs, Stevie, and of course that’s the one you chose. No one who knows good music even likes this album. It’s not even metal music and honestly I almost didn’t show it to you, that’s how bad it is!” They're both giggling, leaning falling slowly into the other's space. Facing one another, their feet tangled together, Steve twists and pulls on Eddie's rings. Just to touch.

“Well, maybe that’s why I like it,” Steve snarks, taking his hand. “Plus it’s a love song.” Daring to reach out.

All of my love, all of my love, yes

All of my love to you

Eddie’s smile dims a bit, softens at the edges as he grows serious. “It’s not a love song Stevie, not like that.” He’s looking at Steve but he isn’t. Looking past him into the back of his thoughts. “The lead singer, he wrote it for his son. His kid died of some kind of bad illness while he was on tour. Didn’t make it back in time.”

He pauses, and Steve waits. Knows Eddie has more to say, hoping his patience will pay off. Eddie’s sight refocuses and he heaves a heavy sigh. His eyes glisten as they lock onto Steve.  

“My mom used to sing it all the time. While she was cooking, or putting me to bed, or pulling weeds in the garden. She’d sing it constantly. Hell, she didn’t even know all the words, but she’d still try and sing the interludes– ya know, the music between the lyrics.” He laughs lightly, a stray tear just barely hanging on. Steve tightens his grip around Eddie’s hands and presses a kiss to his knuckles. A silent sign of gentle support and encouragement. 

“Sounds like a love song to me,” Steve whispers. Leaning forward, he presses a kiss to his forehead and pulls Eddie into a tight hug. 

All of my love, all of my love, to you now

“A love song just for you, from both of us.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I've always headcanoned that Eddie loves Led Zeppelin, because he plays guitar and loves metal and reads Lord of the Rings so of course he would.

[little-diable]

I'd rather be with you – Spencer Reid (smut)

I won't lie, I love a good enemies to lovers Spencer fic. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: The reader and Spencer hate one another, at least in the moments where they're not tangled beneath the sheets.

Warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected sex, shower sex, oral (m), face fucking, bickering, love confession, enemies to lovers

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader (2.3k words)

Her necklace bounced off her naked chest with every thrust, with every moan leaving her as if it was her last. Her necklace bounced off her naked chest with every jerk of his hips, forcing his cock even deeper into her. Her necklace bounced off her naked chest with every call off her name, with every tug on the small pendant dangling between her breasts. 

The necklace was a reminder, a reminder whenever Spencer’s eyes snapped down to it, momentarily distracted from the case they were working on – just for a second or two, though seconds too long for a man with a brain like Spencer‘s. She was his nemesis, the one that has taught him what it means to hate somebody, but yet, in the moments where he fucked her on the nearest surface, he couldn’t remember the hate she elicited inside of him. 

“Spencer? Shit, I truly fucked your brains out last night, huh?” A dark chuckle left (y/n) as she leaned back against the table, arms crossed in front of her chest. A growl left the smart man, murmuring something under his breath she couldn’t pick up on. And yet her smirk didn’t waver, glued to her lips. 

Before Spencer could reply with snarky words rolling off his tongue, Derek had stepped into the room that had been assigned to them. His eyes were focused on his phone, speaking to Penelope with a bright smile – a sight that left (y/n) fawning over the two. Whenever she watched Penelope and Derek interact, she felt some kind of hope burning inside of her, a kind of hope that left her praying that somebody will eventually treat her with this much love and respect. 

“I’ll talk to you later, babygirl.” Derek hung up the call before his eyes first found (y/n)’s and then Spencer’s, smirking at the two profilers. “Good to see that you didn’t kill one another while I was gone. Hotch wants you two to visit the unsub’s childhood home again.” 

“But we’ve been there this morning?” Spencer cut into the conversation before (y/n) could ask the same question. An annoyed huff left her, very well knowing what he was trying to do, taking away the focus from the woman he couldn’t stand, the woman he had always detested, hated since the first case they had worked together. 

“Hotch wants us to go through the photo albums again, maybe we’ve missed something, and why not send our two superbrains to go through the pictures. It’d take the rest of us way too long to do it.” (Y/n) had already reached for her jacket before Derek had finished his sentence, watching with amusement glistening in his eyes how Spencer followed her out of the room, probably already plotting over a new chance to finally murder her. 

……

“Oh fuck, fuck, Spencer.” Her moans echoed through the foggy bathroom, back pressed against his front as he fucked her closer and closer to the edge. The warm water kept streaming down their bodies, washing away the reminders of the past day, of their arguments, and their bottled emotions. 

His teeth left marks on the spot where her neck met her shoulders, drawing pained whines from (y/n). She couldn’t speak up, couldn’t remember how to speak, fully distracted by the feeling of his cock nudging her swollen spot with every thrust. She was putty in his hands, allowing him to do as he pleased. No matter the spiteful words she wanted to speak, riling him up even further, she kept quiet, not daring to push Spencer away when she was so very close to her release.

“Look at that, did I finally manage to shut you up?” His words were rough, dripping with a mean undertone that momentarily managed to rip her out of her state.

“Fuck you, Spencer, don’t act as if–” her rambling was cut short by the feeling of Spencer pulling away, leaving her empty. (Y/n) clumsily turned around in his grasp, staring up at the man with wide eyes, wondering what was about to happen.

“Onto your knees, it seems like you still haven’t learned your lesson.” She struggled to drop to her knees, holding onto him as the water kept cascading down his back. Spencer forced his cock into her mouth, making her choke on the air lingering inside her lungs. He fucked her mouth with moans clawing through him, sounds that left her swollen bundle of nerves pulsing. 

Spencer had always been rough with her, taking the upper hand she claimed around their team, stealing his title of being smarter than them all. He had detested her from the start, jealous of the way she managed to interact with the team, how she seemed to know how to handle every situation, no matter her high IQ. Perhaps it truly was jealousy that had pushed him away, not understanding how someone with an IQ almost as high as his didn’t struggle to with simple interactions like he did, how she made it seem so effortlessly easy. 

“You act as if you’re so much better, as if you don’t give a shit about me. But let me tell you something, doll,” a groan left Spencer as one of her hands found his cock, holding onto the part he hadn’t pushed down her throat just yet. “You are nothing special.” 

Spencer was too far gone to pick up on the hurt expression tugging on her features, no longer focusing on the sounds he made, on the way his cock rested on her tongue, all she could focus on were his words, the spiteful insults. Her heart skipped a few beats, unsure how to react, not understanding what he was trying to tell her. 

“They don’t see through your pathetic games, you’re nothing but an imposter, but trust me, I always win, every single game.” His cock twitched in her mouth, about to cum down her throat, about to force her to swallow his every drop. Perhaps she deserved being treated like this after the things she had said today, the way she had made fun of him - whatever it had been, (y/n) was now paying the price.

He came with a moan, head rolling back, hand gripping her hair. (Y/n) didn’t dare move, unable to stop thinking of the words he had spoken, of the insults he had thrown his way. She barely noticed how he pulled away, how he reached a hand out of her to take, pulling her back to her feet. 

No further words were spoken between the two, she didn’t give him a chance to fuck her again, to push her over the edge. She left the shower before he could touch her again, quickly redressing herself to find her way to her hotel room. 

……

The sound of somebody softly knocking on her door forced her eyes away from her book. She needed a few seconds to snap into motion, wondering who wanted to speak to her that late in the evening, wondering if it was Hotch to tell her that they had a breakthrough with their case. But the sight of Spencer waiting in front of her door left her frozen in her movements, looking at him with raised eyebrows and confusion swimming in her pupils.

“Can I?” (Y/n) stepped aside, allowing him to find his way into the room, walking towards the bed she had been laying on moments ago. They were engulfed by an uncomfortable silence, looking at one another to try and figure out what he was doing, why he had found his way to her. 

“It’s late Spencer, what are you doing here?” Her voice had an unfamiliar undertone to it, urged on by the uncertainty she felt, still focusing on the angry words he had spoken earlier. He cleared his throat, gaze flickering down to his slender fingers, fumbling with them as his mind kept racing, trying to speak up, trying to say the words he struggled to speak out loud. 

“I haven’t met many people who have an IQ that’s way above the ordinary, well, at least not normal people who aren’t killers. I am not used to feeling intimidated, but I am used to being the one people make fun of, I am used to feeling alone and to being the outsider. But it had never been like that with the team, they’ve accepted me and the way I am, I didn’t have to prove myself like I had been forced to do before meeting them. But then you joined the team, and suddenly I was once again back to being caught in a fight of proving myself. For the first time in years I no longer feel like I fit in.” His words made tears well up in her eyes, slowly sitting down next to the rambling man with her hand finding his warm one. (Y/n) squeezed his hand, encouraging Spencer to keep on speaking, to let go of the bottled up words he had tried to swallow down for the past months. 

“Hating you is so much easier than accepting that you’re everything I’ve always wanted. Hating you is so much easier than forcing myself to accept that I don’t have any reason to be jealous of you, than accepting that you’re perfect for me. You’re everything I’ll never be.” A shaky breath left Spencer, once again allowing the thick silence to wrap itself around the two. She needed quite a few moments to speak up, to see through the information he had just dumped on her.

“I knew that there was some kind of jealousy that left you to treat me like that, and I guess I gave in, I played the game instead of trying to figure out why you acted like that. I am sorry that I make you feel like that, Spence. But fuck, you truly have nothing to be jealous of. You’re so much more than just a smart brain, and whoever won’t see that must be blind.” Their eyes met, making a small smile tug on Spencer’s lips before he titled his head down to softly kiss her. The gasp leaving (y/n) allowed him to deepen the kiss, hand letting go of hers to pull her into his lap. 

“I am sorry for being such an asshole who is heavily crushing on you.” A laugh broke through (y/n) at his words, forehead falling against his. 

“I am sorry for being such a bitch who is heavily crushing on you.” (Y/n) found herself being pushed down on the mattress, with Spencer laying half on her and half on the mattress, lips locked in a loving kiss. One of his hands started to wander, finding its way under her shirt, down to her panties.

“I owe you at least two orgasms, don’t I?” She couldn’t reply, interrupted by a moan as his fingers pushed her panties aside, finding her pulsing clit. Spencer moved his fingers just the way she needed him to, touching her like he had done numerous times before. Her heart was pounding, mind hazy and filled with lust, purely focusing on Spencer.

“I want to cum on your cock, fuck me again, please Spence.” He shuffled around, pulling her panties down before he freed his hard cock. Neither of them wanted to waste any time, set on properly fucking, needing to feel one another close. (Y/n) watched him spit into his hand, lubing himself up before he pushed into her. 

(Y/n)’s moans spurred him on, arms finding their way around his neck, tugging him down for a greedy kiss. He fucked her ruthlessly, though without any anger guiding him, allowing his heart to finally give into the love he felt for her. No longer were they speaking hateful words, no longer were they set on making one another pay for their teasing, fucking like lovers for the first time. 

“I love you, so fucking much.” His words left (y/n) gasping in surprise, eyes rolling back into her head the second his skilled fingers found her bundle of nerves. Her sounds made him feel as if he had ascended to heaven, engulfed by the sounds no human had ever been fortunate enough to hear. And even as she spoke the loving three words he had just spoken, Spencer couldn’t stop himself from staring down on her.

Spencer picked up his pace, fucking her into the mattress like a mad man, set on leaving marks that would stay for eternity, never fading, always renewed by his wandering fingers and lips. He marveled at (y/n), hoping that he’d never part from her again, he wouldn’t survive being away from her, needing her like a shot of insulin to save his heart. 

“Fuck, feels so good.” His cock stretched her perfectly, forcing her walls to adjust as he kept pounding into her, not holding back with his lips pulled into a smirk and his eyes staring down on her. She clawed her fingernails into his skin, drawing blood from the marks she left, leaving Spencer torn between a hiss and a moan.

The second he added more strength to his touch, rubbing her clit faster than before, she gave in, tumbling over the edge without another warning. His name left her over and over again, guiding him through his own high. She felt him paint her walls white, heard him choke on his moans, saw him collapse on top of her.

And for the first time since they’ve started sleeping with one another, neither of them felt the need to escape, to hide away from the other.

[shubblelive]

— NOT MUCH LONGER

summary : wilbur has always been dedicated to his viewers, sometimes too much. his fans are aware of this, you are aware of this, and he is aware of this. so when you go multiple days without seeing your boyfriend because of how hard he's working you take matters into your own hands, not realising that thousands of people are there watching you do it.

genre : fluff

warnings : mentions of eating/food, a few swearwords, wilbur not taking care of himself, very small panicky moment

pairing : cc!wilbur soot x fem!reader

pronouns : she/her, reader is called wilbur's girlfriend/wife

featuring : cc!wilbur soot

requested : Could you do a fic where the reader isn’t a very public person (in regards to the internet) and one day, wilbur’s streaming and she goes in and brings him some food and kisses him, not knowing he was live, and when she notices, she just gets all red and embarrassed and wilbur goes out of frame with her and its just all fluffy, and the chat goes craaazy

word count : 1.3K

note : hi lmao. i know, i know it's been nearly 2 months since i 've posted anything. school really caught p to me, i was so stressed out i was crying like multiple times a day for a few weeks. i wanna thank you guys for your patience, i have one more week of classes before spring break and then exams are right after that so i am really unsure of how much free time i'm gonna have until like mid-november.

There was a lot of things that you loved about Wilbur. Of course there was, the two of you had been together since university, nearing on 5 years. Knowing for someone that long, though, and there were obviously aspects of your boyfriend that you were less than fond of. There weren’t a lot, but the main one was the fact that he was a major workaholic. 

You were completely understanding of how important his job was to him. He had been doing it longer than you’d even known each other and you’d never want to do anything to make it seem like you were anything less than supportive. 

But the last couple of weeks had been driving you crazy. 

He’d be out all day filming for twenty different videos or in the studio - that was fine, you had your own work and hobbies to keep you occupied. But then he’d get home and it was straight to editing, or writing, or meetings for merch, album art, new videos. It had gotten to the point where you hadn’t even seen him in two days. You knew he’d been home, you vaguely heard the shower running while you were asleep, so tired you couldn’t bring yourself to lift your head. Clothes had been added to the laundry hamper, and water glasses had been added to the sink. He’d messaged you, of course. You were high on his list of priorities, it being a no-brainer that whenever he got a free minute he was texting you to let you know where he was going, promising that he’d be home soon.

When you got home from work, you were pleasantly surprised to find his docs at the front door, neatly kicked to the side so they were out of the way along with the rest of your collective pile. You put your stuff down and practically floated around the house, searching for your boyfriend. Not in the kitchen, though the dishes had been done for you, left to dry. Not in the living room, though there was a coat draped over the back of the couch that you picked up and deposited in the bedroom (also empty, but his side of the bed was rumpled like he’d fallen straight on top of the blankets). 

You were walking down the hallway when you finally heard him. He was talking softly, not outside of the norm for him. His office wasn’t soundproof, and you often heard him through the walls as you went about your day, whether that was laughing loudly as he streamed, or the muffled sound of him strumming his guitar, trying to write a new song. He was being quiet, probably editing a video. You knew he had his own room in the group office, just for him to edit, but he liked to bring them home sometimes. 

You went back into the kitchen to dry the dishes for Wilbur and you noted that there weren’t any new plates added to the pile. You knew that Wilbur had eaten while he was gone, he’d texted you every time they ordered food, but you also knew that it had been a couple of days since his last home cooked meal. You, admittedly didn’t have much in the pantry, but it was made with love, which was the thought that counts. 

That was the thought on the tip of your tongue as you knocked gently on the door, a plate of mac and cheese and a glass of water in hand, smile breaking out at the sight of your boyfriend at his desk. 

Wilbur’s viewers had always been aware that he had a girlfriend. He mentioned you for the first time after you guys had been together for a year, and since then you were a sporadic presence in his online life, maybe a mention every couple of weeks or months. They didn’t know anything else though, not even your name. His viewers, over the past couple of years had developed their own nicknames for you. It started from one of the first streams you were mentioned in, someone in chat asked if you were Wilbur’s wife. He’d laughed, said no, and then tried to say you were not his wife, and instead pronounced it “wiff.” It got slightly out of hand over the years, with most people lovingly referring to you online as wiffleball. Wilbur had apologised profusely for the slip up, but you found it too funny to actually care. It was definitely weird for you to see, though, the phrase ‘Wiffleball’ randomly trending every couple of months. 

So, they didn’t know your name, and they definitely didn’t know your face. Wilbur was usually on high alert for even your footsteps outside the door, let alone you wanting to come inside. He’d yell that he was live, and you’d wait dutifully at the door for him to come outside. It was more for your sake than his, but he cared just as much about your right to privacy as you did. But today, he was so preoccupied with the fact that he hadn’t seen you in nearly three days that he completely forgot to. 

The monitor with his own face in it was tilted away from the door, and you were so entranced by the smile on his face that you didn’t notice until it was too late. He was standing to meet you, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “Hi, lovely, I’ve missed you.”

“Missed you too, Wil,” Your hands were on his arms the second you placed the food down, and you were right about to kiss him properly when you saw a fast movement out the corner of your eye. His chat was whizzing by so fast that you almost couldn’t read it. You backed out of frame immediately, almost out of instinct, wide eyes meeting Wilbur’s. “You’re streaming?”

“Fuck,” Wilbur made sure that you were definitely out of the frame before putting his stream back on the loading screen and going back to check on you.

Your breathing was much faster than usual and he could all but see your heart jumping out of your chest. “I am so sorry, darling, I was too busy being happy to see you that I completely forgot that I was even streaming. Are you okay?”

Your hands found Wilbur’s shirt, clenching it between your fists and burying your face in the fabric across his chest. His hands were securely on your back as he held you while you calmed your breathing. You weren’t crying no, he could tell you just needed to slow your breaths down and you’d be alright. He was whispering reassurances in your ear and within a few minutes your heart had calmed down. “I’m alright.”

“I’m so sorry,” Wilbur launched immediately into apologies again but your vice grip on his shirt stopped him.

“I’m alright, Wilbur.” You strangely were alright. What you could see on the chat were all nice things, they were all so excited to see you. “Never want to go back on your stream again, but I’m okay with them seeing me.”

“You don’t have to be okay, love, if you’re not. I’ll get the VOD taken down when I’m done and edit you out and say something about not circulating the video, I am so sorry-”

“I’m fine, Wilbur.” You pulled the fabric closer to your chest, the movement effectively silencing him. “Like I said. I am still good not showing up on your streams and stuff, but you can leave the video up. I’m alright with it, I promise.”

He softened at your determined face. “I love you,” he said in place of another apology. “I love you, and I am still sorry that I forgot to tell you. No more until you say so, I promise.”

“Thank you,” you said earnestly, loosening your grip on his shirt. “I’ll let you finish up now, do you think you’ll be a while?”

Wilbur kissed you softly before sitting back in his chair and looking up at you full of love. “Trust me, I definitely won’t be much longer.”

[allyeardepression]

@jegulus-microfic | march 7 phase | words: 644

tw: transphobia, anger issues, swearing

When Walburga finally passed away, Regulus and Sirius took their partners to check if there was anything worth keeping in the house they grew up in.

As they entered a shiver went down Regulus spine, all the horrible memories coming back. He wanted to leave as soon as he saw the family portrait hung on the wall across from the entrance. There were four figures painted on it - Walburga, who looked terrifying even in a painting that was supposed to warm her image; next to her stood Orion, haughty, with a mustache covering his mouth; they both had one of their hands each on the shoulders of their children - Sirius and someone Regulus never was.

"Love, you're shaking," a soft whisper came to his ear as a hand reached his back, squeezing lightly in a comforting gesture, calming him down a little. "They're gone, nothing's going to happen, I've got you," James murmured into his hair, kissing him there a moment later.

Feeling a bit less stressed Regulus nodded and smiled at his fiancé, taking his hand. James smiled, too, squeezing the hand lightly.

As they went through the Grimmauld Place lots of expensive, mostly useless shit was found - some swords, ancient piano, silverware made of real silver, Dior plates (why? just… why?) and paintings by famous painters such as Rubens, Monet and some others. Reaching second floor Regulus immediately went to scratch off the name tag on his old room’s door.

"This bitch! She could have just left it, but of course not! It would be too much of a disgrace to the family if anyone noticed!" he yelled, as the tag fell to the floor piece by piece. Regulus started banging on the door, angry to the point that tears of frustration started streaming down his face. "You could’ve just tear it off and not put another one on, but of course you’re too envious for that! I hate you! Do you hear me?! I!" bang. "Hate!" bang. "YOU!" Regulus may have acted a bit psychotically, but who wouldn't in his situation? His own mother was being transphobic towards him even from her grave.

When he calmed down few minutes later, James approached him, kneeling by his side and whipping the tears away. "Better?" he asked Regulus and he responded with a small nod. At that James pulled Reg to his chest and held tight, whispering sweet nothings to him.

***

A few hours after Regulus' breakdown, they had packed up all of their old clothes (most of them were to be sold and the rest would be given to their future children), grabbed some of the nicer things their parents had left behind, and sat in the living room with tea and an old photo album. As they flipped through the pages there were comments like ‘Don’t you have any normal pictures? Like, from a bathtub or a playground or something?’, provided mostly by Remus.

When Regulus turned another page James gasped and Remus whistled. In the photo, he sat at the Christmas Eve table with freshly cut short hair, wearing a black suit and matching tie.

"Your inner Sirius awoke that year, huh?" his brother-in-law asked with amusement.

"Oh, his inner Sirius awoke to the point he even wore a binder to piss them off further. And I, as an ally, acted like I didn’t know who they were referring to anytime someone used his deadname. Mother told me to stop then, remember Reggie?" his brother asked, turning to him. "She said that it was just a phase" they both laughed at the memory. Yes, Walburga almost had a stroke as Regulus walked down the stairs in one of Sirius’ old suits and a new haircut. She was so stunned she forgot to punish him after everyone went home.

"Well," Reg said, smirking smugly "I guess it wasn’t just a phase, mother."

[stylescine]

Harry styles and y/n getting married in Italy and y/n have a bit of a baby bump around 2 weeks pregnant with their first child together

this is just pure fluff and i love harry with a pregnant reader.

reader is around 3 to 4 MONTHS pregnant here!

Masterlist | Request

Words: 1.3k Warnings: just fluff

This was without a doubt the best day of her life.

Harry and Y/N had decided to have their wedding in Italy almost two years ago. The country had always been special to them. They had spent countless vacations there and she had been able to look over his shoulder when Harry was writing most of his album on the beach or in their shared home in the countryside.

They had tried out every gelato shop in close proximity and had made friends with a lot of locals a long time ago. Italy almost seemed like a second home at times, especially when the pressure and pain of every day life seemed unbearable.

Together they had arranged everything in an instant via phone calls and e-mails. It wasn’t easy to plan a wedding from so far away but that didn't take away from how beautiful it was in the end.

The wedding was a success and without a doubt the most beautiful day of their life. They were officially married now, on paper, and in front of all their friends and family. Now it was time to celebrate and celebrate they did.

But there was more than just the wedding to celebrate. Harry and her had been trying for a baby for a while. And then one day, she held the pregnancy test in her hands, sitting on the bathroom floor with her back against the bathtub and tears of joy streaming down her face. She could hear Harry cook downstairs, the TV playing in the background, and she knew that he would drop everything as soon as she would tell him.

Y/N told him as soon as she had been able to wipe her own tears and made the way to the kitchen. "I need to talk to you, darling," she said softly and Harry turned around in an instant.

He was wearing a big hoodie and sweatpants as he always did when he was relaxing at home. He had been home for a few months and they had used that time to focus on planning their future and their family.

"What is it, love?" Harry smiled, leaning against the counter behind him.

"Here," she whispered, her voice suddenly failing her. She could feel the heat climb into her cheeks as she handed the pregnancy test over to Harry. They had shared countless moments in the bathroom with a negative test in their hand, but they didn't give up and now? She was able to make them both the happiest people on this earth.

It took Harry a moment to realise what was happening as his eyes focused on the stick in front of him. "Two lines mean positive, right?" His voice was quivering and Y/N stepped closer, placing her hands on his arms. "Yes, darling," she whispered and her fiancé's eyes filled with tears in an instant. The pregnancy test was discarded quickly and Harry's arms wrapped around her. He picked her up with ease, holding her close and burying his face in her neck. "Oh my god, I can't-"

His words were lost against her lips when she turned his head and kissed him. "We're going to have a baby," she laughed, the tears rushing into her eyes again. She was sure it wasn't just the hormones this time – this was the genuine happiness she had been chasing after for so long.

Today, on their wedding day, it was hard to hide the baby bump by now. Her dress still looked absolutely perfect, the curve of her stomach definitely didn't take away from it.

Harry seemed to think the same as he approached her from behind, arms wrapping around her as his hands rested on her baby bump. "How are you two feeling? I hope you aren't too tired to dance yet."

Even if she was, Harry would take no offence in it. Ever since they had found out about the pregnancy, they were even more careful with their lifestyle and Harry tried to help her wherever he could. He was understanding of her mood swings and food cravings, always on track to help her where he could. Even if it meant running to the grocery store in the middle of the night to get her pickles.

"We're good. Not too tired yet," she replied and turned her head to the side to get a better look at her husband. A loose curl was hanging onto his forehead, but she couldn't contain the heat she felt in her tummy at the sight of him. How was Harry able to look this perfect all the time?

"Maybe we could check out the cake together?" He suggested as soon as Y/N had turned around to face him. Harry was wearing a black suit, all traditional. His nail polish matched her own and the ring on his finger seemed like it had always belonged there. "I think our little prince or princess would like that too," she agreed with a smile, interlacing their fingers and heading to the table filled with cakes and cupcakes.

Their wedding wasn't extremely big, but there were a good amount of family and friends here anyway, so they had made sure to have enough food for them all. And maybe Y/N would eat more than just one piece of cake now, given the circumstances.

Harry grabbed a piece for her first and then a plate for his own. "Let's go outside, shall we?" He asked and she agreed in an instant. There was a balcony overlooking the ocean as part of their venue and they had wanted to take a few pictures there later.

It would also provide them with a bit of privacy before the dance.

Harry opened the glass doors for her and she stepped over the threshold with her dress, careful not to trip. In front of her, the sun was starting to set on the horizon and its light was reflecting off the water ahead of them. They had chosen a location by the ocean on purpose. It would make for great pictures and the memory of celebrating here alone would make her feel all warm in the future.

She leaned her back against the rail of the balcony, slowly starting to eat away at her piece of cake. "It's so delicious," she hummed, actually holding back a satisfied moan.

Harry's lips turned into a pleased smile and he leaned forward to press a gentle kiss to his wife's temple. "Of course it is. You decided what it would taste like," he teased and continued to eat his own piece of cake then.

He was glad they were able to get a bit of time for themselves. It was great to celebrate with their families and friends, but he also wanted to talk to his wife alone every now and then.

His eyes wandered over her dress, down to her belly. He placed a hand on top of it, thumb moving back and forth gently. "I can't wait to start this next chapter with you, darling," Harry whispered, leaning closer to place a soft kiss on her lips.

Y/N couldn't hold back her own smile. They had been together for so long and now finally having a child and being married seemed like the right step to make into their future. Of course, they would have to navigate Harry's career and a child, but she had no doubts that they would manage it perfectly.

"Me neither. And I'm glad it's you I'm doing all of this with," she replied, placing her plate down on a nearby table before she reached out to cup Harry's cheek with her hand. He kept a bit of a stubble at the moment and it looked so good on him.

"I love you, H."

"I love you too. And our little prince or princess." Harry's eyes filled with tears, but she didn't worry about it.

Those were definitely tears of joy.

[waldau]

dust — jeon wonwoo | 919 words | fluff, hurt/comfort

stream dust till it creates a black hole in your heart! 10/10 recommended!

gender neutral reader. warnings: none.

wonwoo comes home from a long but productive day in the studio only to find you lying on the bed of your shared bedroom with your laptop to your side and his sweatshirt in your hands.

you're curled up on yourself and facing him, but you haven't registered his presence yet.

his first instinct is to defend himself — he hasn't done anything wrong. that he's aware of. your house was not a mess when he left this morning. he woke up at the same time as you, and because you were going to be late for work, he managed to help fold your bedsheet, prepare breakfast while you showered and keep your stuff ready so all you had to do was grab them and dart out of the door.

he'd called you in the afternoon to check in on you after the hectic morning you'd had, and you'd sounded fine. tired, but fine. your presentation had been due but you seemed confident enough that it would go well.

did it not go well?

he takes a step forward and calls out your name. he just wants to hold you in his arms and know that you're okay, even if you might not want to tell him what's wrong.

you look at him and let out a sad noise. he can't take it anymore.

"can i sit next to you?" he asks, only taking his place next to you when you nod. "hey," he says, resting a hand on your back.

"hey," you say, but your voice breaks and it sounds like you've just pronounced the eighth letter of the alphabet. wonwoo swallows a smile and rubs his hand up and down your back.

"did me being here in spirit help?" he asks, pointing to the sweatshirt in your hand. you look at the piece of clothing in your hand and tighten your grip on it.

"please don't...break up with me?"

wonwoo frowns. that's not what he expected you to reply with. he tries to rack his brain for reasons why he'd ever do that.

"did you cheat on me?"

his question shocks you enough to get you to sit up straight, looking at him. "how could you think i'd ever—"

"because that's the only reason i'd break up with you."

you blink. "oh," you say, "so it's fine if i...i don't know, finish the last of the cookies we saved?"

he gives you his most unimpressed stare, only because he knows it always makes you smile. you push the sweatshirt away and reach out for him, and he's more than happy to be held by you.

"i don't want our relationship to be like dust," you say after a while.

wonwoo tries to decipher your metaphor, not that you speak often in them. he lifts his head to give you a questioning look when his mind comes up with nothing.

"i was listening to fml."

right. the album's just come out a couple of days ago, and you promised you'd listen to it when you got the time.

"is it so bad that you're down?" he asks.

you let out a watery laugh at that. it's enough to reassure him to lie down again.

"it's the opposite of that. it's pretty good, actually," you say, resting a hand in his hair, lazily tousling it.

wonwoo's train of thought has reached its final stop. "baby, you're going to have to help me out here."

you sigh, almost into his hair. "i heard dust."

"so what if you— oh."

"yeah, oh."

wonwoo's consumed by an intense surge of affection for you. he tries to pull himself into you even closer, only paying the slightest attention when you push at his shoulder and complain about not being able to breathe.

"baby," he says, feeling his voice take on a tone he knows you're going to chide him for, "you do know i had nothing to do with writing that song?"

he feels you nod.

"you also know i'm not the one who sang anything on that song?"

he can almost hear the gears turning in your head before you mumble a soft, "shut up, wonwoo." and then, "you're going to break your glasses if you hold me like that any longer."

"don't care." but he rolls away when you push his shoulder. "do you seriously think i'm going to break up with you some day?"

you shrug. "sometimes. bad days."

"why don't i ever hear about them?"

you sigh. "it's stupid. not worth your time."

wonwoo shakes his head. "you don't get to decide that, baby."

you look at him with a small smile on your face. "that's the third time you've called me that today."

"i'll say it again if you want me to."

when you say nothing, he rolls back next to you, mindful of your laptop. it's been a while since you've just hung out, doing absolutely nothing together.

"hi, handsome."

he closes his eyes at the compliment. "i was thinking."

"oh, no."

he pinches your side gently. "it's raining outside."

"is it?"

"do you want to go out?"

"in...the rain?"

"i was thinking we could film a video to this song. so you don't feel sad the next time you hear it."

your eyes widen with what he can only call love, before you wrap yourself around him tightly.

"i love you, wonwoo, i love you, i love—"

"i love you too, baby," he says, holding you closer to him. loving you is the easiest thing he's done.

[mysteryshoptls]

Happy Winter Holiday Gift Calendar 2023

These are all the messages that you get from the boys when you log in during the Winter Holiday Campaign from 09 Dec 2023 to 31 Dec 2023! For those that want to read them again, you can find them in the Album, under GIFT CALENDAR 2023.

"How will you be spending the day?"

HEARTSLABYUL

Riddle

I think I will go to the library today. There were someone's scribbles all over the book I borrowed yesterday, you see. It disrupts my focus, so I plan to find a replacement book. Seriously... It's a terrible crime to deface a book like this.

Ace

Today? Well, it's snowing outside, and I got no club practice, so maybe I'll check out on my streaming service a movie or show that catches my eye. I can stay warm and cozy in my room, all while munching on some snacks. Don'tcha think we deserve lazy days like this sometimes?

Deuce

I'm going to try to finish the assignments I got today, before the day ends. That's what an honor student should do, right? But... The first question is already a tough prac app question...? Right! Just gotta hunker down and get down to it!

Cater

Maybe I'll surf Magicam for some 'cammable spots that're only available in the winter. Stuff like diamond dust, or hotels made from ice... Knowin' they're only limited to the season really gets me psyched up!

Trey

It's pretty cold every day now, so I think I'll stock up on lemonade-ginger syrup. It'll warm you right up if you drink some. What, according to the Queen of Hearts' Laws, we can't have lemonade after 8 o'clock? Well, this has ginger in it, so it's a completely different drink, isn't it?

SAVANACLAW

Leona

No plans worth mentioning. What, not what you were expecting? Well, too bad. The campus is completely covered in snow, so the best thing for me to do is just to get back to my dorm room and relax while solving some chess problems.

Jack

The track team has practice today. But since it's supposed to snow in the afternoon, it may just end up being indoor training. It takes a while or the body to get limber in the winter. That means we need to extra thorough in our warming up exercises.

Ruggie

Obviously, I'm gonna be workin'! Today, I'm at a cake shop, and tomorrow I'm waitin' tables at a restaurant... The holidays are coming up, so 'tis the season for a ton of high-payin' temp jobs to fill my pockets, too! Shishishi!

OCTAVINELLE

Azul

As always, I will be awaiting everyone's visit to the Mostro Lounge. On a cold day such as this, we usually receive orders for dishes that are more common in the winter season. I'm sure today will be a rather busy day.

Jade

I thought perhaps I would make a herbarium. The atmosphere this time of year tends to be dry, so it is the perfect opportunity. How would you like to join me? No need to worry, I will show you how everything is done.

Floyd

Yesterday I saw someone wearing these boots lined with fur, and it looked kinda fascinating, so I thought I'd try to find some in town. I wonder if it's hard to walk in? If I find a good pair, I think I'll buy 'em and try 'em out.

SCARABIA

Kalim

Today, we have travelling salesmen from the Scalding Sands coming. I'm planning on buying a ton of stuff for the holidays! It's so exciting to think about what kind of treasure I might find! You should bring some friends over and check it out, too.

Jamil

There's no club activities today, so I plan to look into a few things. My family will be going on a trip over the holidays, you see. Tourist attractions, climate, local cuisine, souvenirs... Never a bad idea to gather too much information, don't you think?

POMEFIORE

Vil

I intend on picking up the spring coat I had on order. I'll also look for accessories that go with it while I'm out. Hm? It's too early to think about spring attire? If I wait to prepare everything for after it starts to get warmer, then I'll completely miss out on the season.

Epel

Snow's piling up again today, so I'm plannin' on clearing the magical shift field with the rest of my clubmates. Didn't bother me none, but the other guys were all dog-tired... Pathetic, ain't they?

Rook

I plan to check on the houseplants we are cultivating in the Science Club. Fufu, I wonder what sort of expressions they'll have today? I do hope there'll be some changes from yesterday that I'll get to enjoy.

IGNIHYDE

Idia

Obvi, just been hyperfixating on my online games, like always... Rather, why would you think I'd go out in cold weather like this in the first place? I recently overhauled the internet speed in the dorm, so it's crazy fast now lol. Gonna actually pull an all-nighter, it's been a while!

Ortho

It'll probably be a game day with my roommates, since the new game that I ordered online arrived. Physical games might take up more space, but I just can't help but want to actually collect my favorite games, y'know?

DIASOMNIA

Malleus

It's chilly today. The best thing to possibly do on days like this is to warm my room and enjoy some frozen treats. Perhaps I'll invite Lilia and the others later. Fufu... I suppose it's not a bad thing to be the one making preparations for them once in a while.

Silver

I will be practicing my swordsmanship with Father after this. I thought I would finish up my assignments beforehand, but... Before I realized it, I had fallen asleep and my notepad was completely blank. What should I do...?

Sebek

I plan to read the book I ordered from the Mystery Shop the other day. It's a book that I've been eagerly awaiting. Grandfather was the one to recommend it to me, so I must read it over and over again and tell him my thoughts on it!

Lilia

We have band practice today. However... When it gets cold like this, my fingers get numb and hard to move. Hm? Naah, I already have the songs memorized. It's really only about staying in rhythm with the other members!

OTHERS

Grim

Brrr, it's cold～! Hey, henchie! Today we're gonna stay cozy under that "ＫＯＴＡＴＳＵ" thingie. We'll have some snacks and play some games together... Myaha! Today's totally gonna be a blast!

Requested by Anonymous.

[cindylcuwho]

¡ purely nonsense , prologue ♥︎ !

“ ⭒.‧ i don’t even know , im talking nonsense ‧. ⭒ “

01 — 02 — more to come 🥥

* ⋆ . · ⋆ y/n laid on her stomach, her left thumb mindlessly scrolled through tiktoks, occasionally doubling tapping to heart entertaining videos.

after seeing the fifth edit of herself, which used similar clips to the ones before, she closed tiktok and opened twitter in hopes of better entertainment.

always wanting to be in touch with her fans, she regularly viewed her mentions and right now was no different. many fans were tagging her in late album reviews, random photos and mindless tweets, the occasional hate tag, and some begging for a collab with varies of different artists.

one mentions caught her eye. well, multiple, actually. the first three began the in similar ways, “ @ y/nsmusical omg ?!! “ . she refreshed the page, thinking that twitter was just glitching and showing the same tweet over and over. though the mention didn’t go away, in fact more popped up.

she clicked on the top one and it led her to a 45 second clip of three random strangers that shared the same face.

. ⭒ ☆ ━ ☆ ⭒ .

“growing up, i had the fattest crush on marge from the simpsons” the guy wearing a sky blue hoodie with ‘fresh love’ printed on the front joked.

the camera switched, showing off the blonde version of the guy before, except he was wearing a plain white shirt. “can we be honest? homer would be a huge sma—“

the other two began bursting out laughing, not letting him finish the sentence. the blonde giggled along with them, “what, i thought dad bods were in right now?”

“nick, no!” one of them cried out, still laughing. “as if any of your celebrity crushes are any better?!” ‘nick’ defended.

the one wearing a backwards pink trucker hat moved his mic closer, staring nick dead in the eyes. “are you calling mine –who is a grammy nominee and an it girl since childhood– as bad as a yellow cartoon?!“

“yours hasn’t changed since you were eleven, chris! its time to move on, buddy!” blue hoodie guy snorted out. he looked at the camera with a shrug, “he’s been obsessed with y/n carpenter since.. i wanna say a little before girl meets world and that ended, what? 2017?”

chris jumped up and down his seat, “why’re we name dropping?? matt, stopp!” he exclaimed. “damn, not even gonna deny the allegations, christopher?”

chris looked down at the table, a rosy blush creeped on his cheeks as he thought of the words.

“there’s nothing to deny.. y/ns influence is probably the reason i’m the man that i am, and you know what? she’s still doing great things and thriving.”

nick gasped, “oh!,” he tapped on the table, reminded of something, “she’s supposed to be releasing an album hella soon– are you gonna be streaming?”

chris smirked, “of course, anything to support my girl.” nick and matt let out an ‘ooo’ at their younger brothers sudden boldness.

“your girl?” matt scoffed, challenging his brothers attitude. chris nodded, arms crossed. “y/n doesn’t know you exist, kid.” he reminded.

“she will, and then we’ll get married and i’ll star in the reboot season of girl meets world. that’s been the dream.” chris listed off his plans. “marriage before the first date is crazy,” nick stated.

the three began changing the subject, which was when the clip ended.

. ⭒ ☆ ━ ☆ ⭒ .

y/n exited the video tab, a small smile rested on her face. she knew there was definitely fans that stuck around from her younger acting years, fans that were other influencers, and definitely fans that believed they could steal her heart, but the cockiness from this ‘chris’ guy was undeniably kind of attractive.

‘who is he?’ she wondered. though intrigued, y/n was too lazy to go on another deep google search about someone so she stuck to what would have the best and quickest response.

tweeting out to her fans.

her thumbs tapped for a minute, before hitting ‘tweet’, knowing there was no turning back.

. ⭒ ☆ ━ ☆ ⭒ .

within seconds people were already responding with numerous answers.

↳ @ y/nsemails : OH MY GOD WHAT

↳ @ nessabarrett : your future husband apparently ⁉️ ↻ @ynsmusical : damnit thought i had a chance to relate to ylm

↳ @ sturnstar : which one of yall snitched 😭

↳ @ beybayboo : search sturniolo triplets on youtube !! ↻ @ynsmusical : finally a real answer 😻😻

↳ randomuzer : oooo chris is in trouble 😮‍💨

↳ user123 : pls don’t lower your standards to some youtuber 🤢🤢 ↻ @ chrissbaby : calm down she was just asking who he was ..

↳ @ lilnasx : industry baby reference 😌 ↻ @ y/nsmusical : ofccc ur always on repeat ❣️

↳ @ grlm33tswrld : WAIT OMG WE NEED A SHIP NAME ↻ @ lo0kingaty/n : no we do not !!

↳ @ billieeilish : did we just find whose house your sock is at ?? ↻ @ y/nmusical : shh you’re leaking my music thats illegal 😞😞

. ⭒ ☆ ━ ☆ ⭒ .

sturniolo triplets. well yeah it made sense they were, they had the same face how did that not click?

youtube was immediately opened, the display showing off their channel that already had a pretty decent amount of subscribers.

somehow, innocently wanting to know who this random guy is turned into binge watching his and his triplet brothers youtube videos.

y/n wouldn’t deny, they were definitely funny– and quite loud. chris’s energy in the 20 minute long videos matched hers, partially confirming that her influence truly did influence the man he is today.

she was laughing at whatever nonsense chris was saying, nick and matt obviously did not care with the expressions on their face. the moment got cut short when her phone began to ring, her good friend billie calling.

“hey!” she spoke. “hey, would you mind coming to the studio real quick? it’s for the album.”

y/n sat up on the edge of her bed, praying nothing was wrong with it. it was supposed to come out within the following month. what if all the files were deleted? or even worse, what if songs were leaked.

“i thought today was my day off?” she rested her phone on her white nightstand, putting it speaker on so she can slip on a random pair of socks.

“it is- but don’t worry, we just need to record some extra vocals, nothing too big and we’ll be out of there within 20.” billie reassured.

she nodded, already walking out to her car. billie had already hung up, letting y/n hook the bluetooth from her phone up to her car to play music.

her right hand rested on the stick shift, her left currently swiping through apps. she was about to swipe up on instagram, but something told her not to.

she had to be in the studio within ten minutes, this would only take a couple of seconds, right? typing in the search bar, his account was the first to pop up.

y/n debated with herself in her head. there’s no real point in doing this, this puts him in a 50/50 spotlight and could cause rumors on top of rumors.

rolling her eyes and ignoring the doubtful thoughts, she pressed the button and exited the app, going back to spotify to play her favorite playlist as she drove.

‘ y/nsmusical began following christophersturniolo ‘

— ꒰ 🍒 ꒱ dedicated to , and idea created by @freshloveee :)

— ꒰ 💭 ꒱ was so excited to write this- sorry that the ending kind of drags on, i didn’t know how to end it lmaoo! how we feelin’ though ? (comment if you wanna be added to a taglist- i might do one for this)

[fruitr0llup]

“no matter what.”

im nayeon x fem!twice 10th member reader; fluff

warnings: a HINT of angst if you squint, talk of disbandment

w/c: 747

a/n: i don’t like this fic but i’ll post it anyways </3 NOT PROOFREAD !!!!

-

it was saturday, and today was one of the days where all of the girls had an off day. they were rare, so most spent it with eachother, doing fun things around seoul, but a select few, including you, decided to stay at the dorm and rest.

you lounged on your bed, keen on spending your day off rotting in bed. you had scrolled through your phone for hours now, and honestly you were getting kind of bored. you were thinking of going to bother Mina, who had stayed behind, but figured she’d probably tell you to leave so that she could continue playing her game.

so instead, you kept scrolling, mindlessly wandering the internet. that’s until something caught your eye. It was an article on Jeongyeon’s interview with Bazzar earlier that week. You skimmed through the interview, curious to see what the older girl had said.

You stopped when you came across a question asking “Can you believe twice is in its 10th year?”

You felt your heart pang. No, you couldn’t believe that twice was in its tenth year. You couldn’t believe that you had spent ten years with these girls, who used to be strangers to you. it all felt so surreal.

you continued to read, wanting to know what Jeongyeon replied. You felt another pang in your heart reading what she answered. She replied, “How many more albums can we release as twice in the future? We can’t be active as twice forever. Of course, it would be nice if we could, but there will come a time when we each have to walk our own path. It’s not a given that we can prepare an album together like now.”

You set your phone down, getting lost in your thoughts. You hadn’t thought about what it would be like without twice. without your members. you’ve spent every waking hour with them since sixteen, and a world without them feels unreal. but Jeongyeons right, you can’t be twice forever. you’ll have to move on eventually.

just the thought makes you tear up. and in seconds, you have tears running down your face, ugly crying. you grab the tissue box by your bed and try to clean your face up, but failing as the tears continue to stream down your face.

you hear a knock on your door, “y/n-ah, are you okay?” it’s nayeon. she must have heard your wailing.

you sniffle, using all your strength to muster up a reply. “y-yes, nayeon un-unnie” you said through sniffles.

“y/n, you’re clearly not. i’m coming in.” she opens the door, revealing you sitting in your bed, your face red, tissues spewed everywhere, and snot running down your nose. her eyes soften instantly. “oh baby…” she walks over to you, sitting on your bed and pulling you into her embrace. “what’s wrong?” she asks, stroking your hair.

“what are we going to do, unnie…” you mutter. nayeon pulls away, looking at you softly.

“what do you mean?” at that, you start spewing out words. you express how you’re not ready for the future. how you don’t want to grow up. how frightened you are at the fact that it’s already been ten years, when it seemed like only yesterday you all debuted. and how scared you are that you’re going to lose all of them. your best friends.

nayeon looks at you with a pout. she takes your face in her hands and wipes your tears. “it will be okay, y/n-ah.” she says, stroking your hair.

“unnie, i don’t kn-know what i’m going to do without you g-guys..” you say, sobbing.

nayeon sighs. of course she’s thought about disbandment. she wasn’t ready for it either; none of them were. so she tells you what she had been telling herself. “y/n, no matter what happens. no matter what path we choose to take. we are always going to be twice. a silly disbandment won’t break our friendship. we’ll always have eachothers backs, and support each other in whatever we decide to do.”

you nod, hugging her again. she lays down on your bed, putting your head on her chest. “go to sleep, y/n… you’ve had a long day..” you nod, wiping a stray tear.

the two of you sit in silence for a while, before you speak up. “i love you, unnie…” you say, hugging her tighter.

nayeon rubs your back with her hand. “i love you too, y/n.”

you fall asleep, with nayeons comforting embrace assuring you that no matter what life brings you, you’ll always be together.

you’ll always be twice

[imaginesig]

“If they call me a slut, you know it might be worth if for once”

Lewis Hamilton x singer!reader

yourusername

liked by lewishamilton, user1, y/nhq, and 402,038 others

yourusername: my muse <3

tagged lewishamilton

lewishamilton its an honor love

user1 when will I find someone to call me love

lando.jpg your own jpg account when??

yourusername I'll stick to my day job

user2 anybody else bothered by how quickly she goes from man to man

user3 right? like I swear she's had about 7 "muses" in the past 3 years

user4 she's literally done nothing wrong?? how dare a women date more than 1 person in her life??

carlossainz55 so new music when?

Charles_leclerc the Ferrari playlist needs an update

yourusername update loading 🔄

user5 oh please be a new album!!

load more

lewishamilton

liked by roscoovescoco, yourusername, user6, and 183,829 others

lewishamilton: race weekend with my loves

tagged: mercadesamgf1, roscoelovescoco, yourusername

landonorris interesting order

yourusername we all know Roscoe is the real star here

roscoelovescoco listen to the lady 🙌

mercadesmhf1 we love having the Hamilton family in the paddock

yourusername ahhh love to be there!!

lewishamilton 💚

georgerussell63 always a good time with these two in the house

yourusername ahhhh Georgie 🫶🫶

user1 "Georgie" 🥹😭

Load more

tmz_offical

liked by user9, user1, user3, and 937,273 others

tmz_offical: just days after the end of the season, f1 driver Lewis Hamilton is spotted out with young girlfriend Y/n L/n. The couple is notorious for keeping their privacy, making paparazzi pictures a rare instance. Click the link in our bio to see what else was taken during their night out on the town.

tagged lewishamilton, yourusername

user1 no wonder they keep private, I would too if ended up trapped in a relationship with a slut like her

user2 didn't she and Dylan O'Brian break up right before they got together? Didn't think he rebound guy would last this long

user3 I could never imagine dating someone that much older than me

user4 fr someone tell her to take it down a notch, her sluttiness is showing

User8 the one sided hate is mid boggling

user5 the negativity is DEFINING

user6 right, y'all can't stand to see a women happy, healthy, and unbothered

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y/nupdates

liked by lewishamilton, user5, user9, and 749,934 more

y/nupdates: Y/n seen outside the studio with her producer after radio silence all winter!!

tagged yourusername

user1 she's cooking

user2 she's entering her reputation era I can feel it

user3 fr, after that one tmz post blows up and her comments are flooded with negativity, she locked herself away with her love, and is now seen for the first time in awhile leaving the studio

user4 I CANT HANDLE THIS RN

user5 not the slut trying for a comeback

user6 how about you lead by example? Leave and don't come back 🫶

user8 you know the records gonna slap when @/producer sprinkled her magic

user9 I need them and Taylor+Jack to release something

load more

yourusername

liked by user5, lewishamilton, y/nhq, and 394,028 others

yourusername: "Slut!" out now on all streaming platforms!! The rest of the album, "Amor Omnia Vincit" out this Friday!

when I originally sat down to create this new album I didn't image I'd write half the songs that made the final cut, but I did. This has been a very therapeutic experience for me.

Thank you to this album, my amazing team, and my lovely muse for keeping me going in the difficult time <3

tagged: y/nhq

lewishamilton you are so Shawn Hunter coded

lewishamilton I love you dear

yourusername I love you too darling

user1 they are so domestic I'm crying 🤭😭

user2 lets all start a thread of our fav lyrics from "Slut!"

user3 "if I'm all dressed up, they might as well be looking at us" WE KNOW THIS COUPLE ALWAYS BRING FIRE FITS

user4 very obvious but "if they call me a slut, you know it might be worth it for once," just hits so hard, like this is an issue she's dealt with for so long but Lewis makes it all better bc their relationship trumps everything

user5 piggy backing off of @/user4 's reasoning, "the sticks and stones they throw froze mid air"

user6 "IN A WORLD OF BOYS HES A GENTLEMAN" 🔛🔝

user7 I'm still not very her admitting that all the negavity around her dating has affected her so bad that she told Lewis "I said it might blow up in your pretty face"

scuderiaferarri we will not apologize for the people we'll become when this drops ‼️

Charles_leclerc we've always been #1 y/n stans

lewishamilton you red fuckers can take two steps back that's my title

carlossainz55 I thought you were her muse?

lewishamilton I'm both

user8 ok possessive king

youruserame for me and me only 🥰

load more

lewishamilton

liked by georgerussell64, your username, user1, and 789,739 others

lewishamilton: SO, SO, SO PROUD OF YOU LOVE!! Watching you work through a rough patch with such grace was beautiful. Thank you for allowing me to be apart of it and listen to these songs+more. I'll be your muse forever if you'll have me <3

tagged yourusername, y/nhq

yourusername forever and always <3

lewishamilton <3

user1 that water look very ~aquamarine~ to anyone

user2 he def knew what he was doing

lewishamilton I had a message to send 🤷🏾‍♂️

user2 LMAOOO HES SO PETTY

yourusername sassy man epidemic isn't a joke

user3 I love that she left like people wanted and wrote a whole song to shut down the hater but also put her and Lewis's relationship on the pedestal it deserves

producer such a sweet album!! Some of the best love songs out there!!

Charles_leclerc Vigilante Shit is my new pre-prix anthem

yourusername watch out @/maxverstappen1

maxverstappen this is where the dutch anthem falls silent 😔

carlossainz55 wasn't ready for Dress

yourusername but...

carlossainz55 its my fav

user4 I love that lewis posted for the whole album when Y/n didn't, but she's replying to comments in his section when he isn't

user5 they really are made for each other huh

roscoelovescoco amazing work mom!!

user5 I will never get over the mom

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yourusername

liked by landonorris, Charles_leclerc, user5, and 937,039 others

yourusername: surprise!! Since this album taught me what it was like to write and create in such an intamate space with very few people/outide influence I wanted to celebrate it with 3 small shows in Monaco, London, and Ottawa!

tickets on sale at 12 pm eastern this friday, see ya then ;)

tagged y/nhq

landonorris do friends get discounts??

yourusername everyone on the grid plus any serious significant others get VIP entry courtesy of me and my team 💖😘

y/nhq we'll be reaching out soon to select the show

lilymhe you don't understand how excited this makes me!!

yourusername well I couldn’t celebrate without my girls (and their men too ig 🙄🤚)

oscarpiastri thanks a lot y/n

alexalbon anybody else feeling loved??

lewishamilton completely 🫶

user1 this will start world war 3 I can feel it

user2 this is the eras tour all over again

user3 except that was selling stadiums, these are small venues

user4 any f1 driver want to link up for a show?? you'll never have to speak to me ever again

user5 I regret to inform you babe, but I think this is the reason she said serious significant others...

user6 official tour soon?? Please mother??

yourusername oh so very soon...

load more

lewishamilton

liked by your username, georgerussel64, landonorris, and 379,268 others

lewishamilton "got lovestruck went straight to my head" <3

tagged yourusername

user1 crying throwing up

user2 quoting her song?? that's about him?? I'll be resting my eyes on the highway if anybody needs me

user3 my toaster looks like a fun bath bomb

yourusername "got lovesick all over my bed" <3

landonorris beautiful show, beautiful couple 🧡

yourusername 🧡

scuderiaferrari maybe we're colorblind but that doesn't look like Mercedes green

mercadesamgf1 watch your back

georgerussell64 👀

georgerussell64 slayed so hard

yourusername an honor from the meme king?? I'm not worthy

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liked by Charles_leclerc, user9, lewishamilton, and 930,393 others

yourusername thank you to everyone who came out to a show this weekend!! I had a blast sining new stuff, covers, and old pieces with you all- the love I experienced was unreal!! I cannot wait to see what happens in the future 💖

To all those close to me, our relationships mean the absolute world!! Special love to Lewis who held my hand through my darkest time, showed me what a true relationship was, and gave me a perfect little boy (I love you Roscoe). Darling, its been a wonderful experience being with you <3

tagged y/nhq, landojpg

lewishamilton love you so much angel <3

georgerussell64 definitely gave me and Carmen the night of our lives!!

alexalbon the show was so amazing I almost forgot you flirted with my gf in the invitation

yourusername stay mad

lilymhe 🥵

Roscoelovescoco can I come next time??

yourusername I'll see what I can do...

landjpg thank you for photo creddits and well as the opportunity to photograph these unique shows

yourusername you didn't not dissapoint 👏👏 thank you for doing it

Charles_leclerc I had an amazing time!!!

carlossainze55 you should hear him try to speak, voice complelty gone

yourusername that's the kind of energy we all need

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[bloompompom]

Trending Now! Beloved, international pop sensation was spotted getting hot and heavy with the lead vocalist of Devil's Paradise, Eren Jaeger, at an after-party, sparking rumors of a secret fling. The unlikely couple has yet to comment publicly on the status of their relationship, but their scandal-worthy PDA alone implies they must know each other very well. 

Ha! That couldn’t be any further from the truth.

♡ pairings: rockstar!eren jaeger x popstar!female reader, eren jaeger x historia reiss ♡ content: ~7.2k word count. enemies-to-lovers, jealousy, suggestive themes, lots of explicit language (they like f-bombs sorry), slut shaming, mentions of alcohol. reader discretion advised. ♡ previous chapter | next chapter | series masterlist

★ Chapter Four ★

One step forward, and a million steps back.

It felt like the world had started up again when the creative director clapped his hands, calling for a five-minute break. The resounding sound echoed through you as everyone began to buzz around like flies.

You blinked, hard, snapped from whatever trance you had to be in—the one that gave you that glossy, no-thoughts-behind-those-eyes look the camera loved.

You blinked again when an assistant shoved a hand in front of your face. He offered to help you to your feet, as you were still on the floor, looking more or less comparable to a prowling jungle cat. Or better yet, you felt like you had been spilled and splattered, just waiting for someone to come and clean you up.

You declined his hand, politely. He took you by the elbow anyway after one of your heels wobbled underneath you. 

“I mean it: five minutes.” The director looked down at his wrist, checking a watch that wasn’t really there. “Four minutes and fifty-nine seconds now. Fifty-eight, fifty-seven—”

Cool silk hit your shoulders as another assistant draped a robe over you, pathetically thin for such a frigid studio. She even held the sleeves out for you, one at a time, ensuring you had to move as little as humanly possible, as if you were something made of glass. As if you would break.

You cinched the robe’s ties around your waist. When you finished, a water bottle landed in the palm of your right hand. The assistant that tossed it to you, the third one in the last thirty seconds, and reminded you to stay hydrated.

And yes, they were always this fussy over you. And when it came to photo shoots, they were always extra fussy. This one was for your upcoming single, so it had to be perfect.

Pieck was off by herself in the corner, her back turned to you. Curiously, you made your way over to her, cracking and twisting the bottle’s lid to take a sip as you went.

If you were to be honest, it was more than a sense of curiosity; the painfully optimistic part of you hoped she would allow you to have the rest of the day to yourself. It was your week of vocal rest, after all. 

But, of course, there was never a break with Pieck. Even for those measly five minutes, you couldn’t power down your brain because you found her crouched over her iPad. Devil’s Paradise (Eren specifically) was on the screen. You could see it from feet away. 

You had caught her doing this before, stalking the band like some obsessive fan girl. She called it studying, but you called it useless. ‘Eren is about as deep as a kiddie pool,’ you had told her. Shallow and superficial. Why try to keep digging when you could already see the bottom?

You let out a groan loud enough to catch her attention. “Can’t I go one day without seeing Eren’s stupid face?” Then you took another swig of water, felt it trickle its way down your throat, like it could wash the taste of his name off your tongue. 

Pieck didn’t reply. She just returned to watching the live stream. You didn’t need to see her face to imagine her scowl vividly. 

Devil’s Paradise, the band that came out of nowhere, the underdogs, who won their category’s Best Album Award, were now everywhere. You were sure this was the first of many, many performances they would have to do—tons of interviews, too. 

Oh, the interviews. So. Many. Interviews.

Your eyes fell on Mikasa next, and your face softened. It was only slight, no greater than a flicker, because the camera soon panned to Eren beside her. She smiled brightly at him, and he returned it, looking just as sparkly. You tried to think if you’d ever seen him smile like that—that big—before. Only for the cameras, for your faux relationship, but you weren’t dumb enough to believe those flashy grins were genuine. But this smile was. It was the kind that made your eyes squint and your mouth open wide enough to let a laugh slip through your teeth; you could hear it when he sang. It bothered you. 

“I don’t know how she’s friends with him,” you grunted, gesturing toward the screen. “Let alone how she puts up with him on the regular.”

Speaking of fan girls, there were more than plenty there. Cramped and piled atop one another, pushing and threatening to tip over the barrier around the stage just for the chance to touch Eren. You weren’t sure if it made you want to laugh or vomit in your mouth.

“All you do is complain about Eren.” Pieck looked at you from over her shoulder. “Eren this, Eren that. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were an old married couple.”

She knew that would get under your skin. Defensively, you sucked in a breath and complained, “Well, I don’t know why you have to watch this, and right now of all times.”

Simultaneously, you and Pieck said, “It’s literally my job.” She said the phrase all the time, and after the years spent together, she was easy enough to predict. Still, it made her huffy.

“Can’t you do it somewhere else?” You eased your voice. “Please.”

She opened her mouth to say ‘no,’ but before she could, your newest intern popped in. Pieck told you that partnering with a local college for an internship opportunity would look good for your image. Always with your image. But you could admit it was nice to have a fresh face around, even if her only job was to run and get your coffee. 

“Levi Ackerman texted you,” she quietly interrupted. 

You reluctantly flopped your hands in the air. “One day. Just one day. That’s all I ask.”

It was rather dramatic, and Pieck quickly consoled the frightened student. “It’s nothing you did.” She glowered at you. “She’s just in a mood. You can ignore her when she’s like this.” 

Still hesitant, voice shaking—you almost felt bad about it—she briefly explained what you already knew. Eren had texted you last night requesting (demanding) the jacket you ‘stole’ because it was a rental. You were tired and brushed it off. But now, it was apparently Levi’s turn since it was his duty to return it, not Eren’s. 

You waved it off with, “The jacket’s at my place, draped over the chair. You can’t miss it. It’s the only black thing there.” Otherwise, your living room was entirely white. Pristine. 

“Oh, no,” Pieck interrupted, like she had another bright idea of hers locked, loaded, and ready to fire. “Don’t make the newbie do your dirty work.” 

You wanted to correct her, but you couldn’t with said newbie standing right beside you. 

“You should do it,” Pieck urged. “Maybe even post a photo of you two together or something. You know your name trends whenever you’re with him. It’s advertising for your new single.”

You grumbled, so low that it was practically incoherent, even to yourself. Just angry, childish noises.

“I thought you’d want to see your boyfriend.” Pieck’s urgent eyes jumped to the intern, then back to you. You were blowing your cover. The last thing you needed was for some college girl to go around spreading gossip and telling the world you were snotty to Eren. If anything, you’d prefer the opposite to leak. Maybe then you could finally dump him. 

So, you smiled even though it physically hurt while you replied, “You’re right. It’s a nice excuse to spend some time with him.” You didn’t know which was worse, saying you wanted to see Eren or admitting Pieck was right. You sweetened the smile when you turned to the intern. “We’ve both just been so busy.”  

She gave a wary smile of her own, but it was enough for you to believe she bought it. Pieck patted her back, then told her to run off before she could realize the truth: that you and Eren were not, in fact, dating, and it was more like you were uncordial acquaintances. At most. 

In actuality—and this was something you’d never tell Pieck—the faux-lationship had been tolerable since the award show. You could at least hold a conversation, though limited to the same discussions you’d have with the stranger doing your nails. So—thoughtful pause—where did you say you were from? Oh, I have a friend from there. Like a toddler taking their first steps, it was fumbling and awkward, but you were still managing to get somewhere. 

You returned home, pouted a bit because you desperately wanted to stay, then grabbed the jacket and tucked it beneath your arm. You hadn’t touched it since that night, after you slipped it from your shoulders and questioned why, in that moment, you wanted to take it with you. It was strange, like it didn’t belong, so you didn’t touch it. 

You drove yourself to Eren’s place. You didn’t mind it, actually; not just the moment of solitude and silence, but the drive itself. You didn’t venture to this side of the city often. You had almost forgotten how beautiful it was. Ocean waves glimmered in streaks of sunlight. Lush greenery splattered the horizon with hues of summery pinks and yellows, every bloom fresh. And from Eren’s doorstep, there was only the wispy sound of palms tickling your ears. All of it stood in stark contrast to your life in the city.

You found his house easily enough thanks to Levi. He forwarded you the address, telling you he made sure the right people knew to expect you—at least, that was your interpretation of ‘no one should cause you any trouble.’ Which made it sound a whole lot like someone was going to cause you trouble, but you had a feeling Levi enjoyed being cryptic. 

It was this loft-style home, constructed from stacked stone and clean, walnut-colored wood. When you said ‘loft-style,’ that didn’t mean it was small by any means, but it was still the right size for one. Frankly, you were shocked by it. You would have guessed he’d buy something more boastful after suddenly plunging head-first into fame. 

You didn’t announce your arrival beforehand. You didn’t know you were supposed to. And as was the rightful consequence, Eren didn’t answer on your first knock. Or your second, for that matter.

“‘No one should cause you any trouble.’ Yeah, right,” you huffed.

The house had these giant windows on every wall, and still, you couldn’t peek inside because of their tint. Not that you were about to go through all that effort over a jacket.

When you knocked a third time, it was with the blunt of your fist. You waited out another impatient moment, then quickly realized that driving out here was useless. You couldn’t wait to tell Pieck that you were right. 

Just before you turn away, a camera, smack in the center of the wall, caught your attention. You didn’t know how you missed it, but you debated going on as if you had, plopping the expensive jacket on the ground. After a pause, you decided to give Eren one last chance because you were a nice person. You pressed one of the buttons, then another, unsure of which would ring him. 

The only thing you knew it did for certain was trigger a blinking red light, prompting you to ask, “Eren? Can you hear me?” 

You announced yourself and displayed the jacket for the camera. Could he even see it? God, you felt silly. Frustrated, too. It seeped into your voice when you said, “I’m here with the jacket you needed so desperately.”

Finally, there was a sign of life.

“What?” It wasn’t accusatory, but disoriented. Eren’s voice sounded muffled through the microphone. Even so, you knew he was far too groggy for two o’clock in the afternoon. “Why are you here?”

“I said,” you stressed, “I have your jacket. The one you’ve been bothering me about. Tell me you haven’t forgotten already.”

“I didn’t mean you had to bring it, like, now.”

“Well, Levi did.” There was a long, long pause. “So, are you going to let me in?”

Eren didn’t reply. You couldn’t believe it—well, maybe you could, knowing him. 

You darted a hand toward the button again. Before you could make contact, the quick swing of the door startled you. You jumped back as Eren made himself comfortable, leaning against the door with his arms folded across his chest. He looked like he had just rolled out of bed. You called him out for it.

“You look like crap.”

“I feel like it,” he replied, his voice as monotone as ever. 

You believed him. Greeted by the afternoon sun, his fluttering eyes could hardly stay open. The feeling was almost visceral. Just by looking at him, you could practically feel a throbbing in your temples and the ‘I’m never drinking again’ wretch of your stomach. Thinking about it now, the last time you said those very words was the morning after you met Eren. 

Still, he hadn’t snatched the jacket from you or slammed the door in your face (yet), so it couldn’t have been that awful. Perhaps you were a welcomed distraction to his wicked hangover. 

“So,” you drawled, forcing the jacket into his hands, finally ridding yourself of the damn thing. “Here you go.”

Eren looked from the jacket to you.

“You really came all the way here just to give this back?” His eyebrow raised as he spoke. It matched the snide curl of his lip. “Huh. You ought to be more careful. Someone might get the impression you actually wanted to see me.”

“Good one,” you said, faking a laugh. “That definitely won’t be an issue.” You took a pace back, then another. “Now, if you’ll excuse me—”

“You’re the one who begged me to let you in.”

You didn’t beg.

He caught you mid-spin, ready to flee down the steps and back to your car, off on your merry way.

“You don’t have to act shy about it. You’re allowed to check the place out, if you want. We are dating, after all.”

Sarcasm or not, you despised the sentence, and you definitely weren’t ‘acting.’ But despite how good it would feel to ignore him and strut back to your car, a part of you—a very, very small part—wanted to see the inside of his house, to learn what Eren Jaeger was about. Though you were already sure you had a pretty good idea. 

Of course, you didn’t want to admit your curiosity; you couldn’t bear to say the words, ‘Sure, I’d like to come inside,’ let him hold the door open for you and everything. So after a short pause and a flagrant eye roll, you stepped past him, tossing back, “Maybe you’re the one who should be more careful. Someone might get the impression you actually like me.” 

“I wouldn’t go that far.” His face went dull again, so fast that you must have made up whatever brightness you thought was there. You frowned but continued inside anyway.

Eren excused himself to freshen up, and by that, you meant he said he’d be right back after you asked him if he had just woken up.

“Have you even brushed your teeth yet?” you playfully asked.

“No,” he said. Your nose wrinkled. “What? I wasn’t expecting company. I just told you: you woke me up.”

“You should really take that up with Levi then.”

Once you could no longer hear his footsteps, you used the brief interlude to poke your head around. 

If you hadn’t seen the unweathered exterior, you would have thought the house was built years before it existed—walls with lots of character, black and white diner tile in the kitchen. Of course, like the outside, everything was crisp and brand new, down to every slick, black beam above your head.

It only made the punches of retro color bolder; you kept glancing over to the couch. Its pretty rust color caught your attention, the back of it neatly tufted though covered by a strewn shirt. None of the furniture appeared to be made within the last decade despite remaining in immaculate condition. Someone lacking a keen eye might glaze over it, but you recognized that none of this was easy to come by.

Both fittingly and stereotypically, Eren had some guitars displayed on the far wall. That was where he found you when he returned. You didn’t turn to look at him, only talking once you knew he was near. 

“Do you actually write your own songs, or is that just another bullshit marking tactic?”

Eren chuckled. Despite the crunchy delivery, he could tell you searching for a legitimate answer. “Yes, I actually write them.”

“I wish I could do that,” you hummed. “My name’s always listed beside my co-writer, but really, I barely get any say. Maybe changing a word or two, but that’s it. That way, I can honestly say I helped, as if that even mattered.”

Was your team really that desperate to keep you in line? Eren couldn’t imagine that was something you requested—to sacrifice your income, your ownership to a co-writer… just to be called generic.

He had no idea what to say now.

Choosing to take the optimistic approach, he said, “Well, it seems to have worked out for you so far. I mean, you’ll probably perform at the Super Bowl someday, right?”

You laughed at that, no more than a huff through your nose. “Is that your measure of success?”

He shrugged innocently. “I mean…”

It was the definition a ten-year-old would give, but you supposed he had a point, even if it was rather boyish.

Whatever was happening between you right then was snuffed out. Silence ensued. You kept your eyes busying over the guitars to avoid the building tension. 

Only when Eren spontaneously asked, “So, you don’t have a single song you’re passionate about? Or one that you’re proud of?” did you realize he was still stewing on your conversation.

“My dad always said passion projects were a waste of time,” you said, noting the wistfulness in your voice. 

“Every one of our albums is a passion project.”

Your eyes flickered to him, thinking you had offended him and this was about to turn into another argument. He only continued. 

“But I get it—the whole disappointed dad thing. My dad’s a doctor, so you can imagine how he felt when I told him I wanted to sing.” You chuckled a little at that. “But he gets it now, as much as he can. I’m not sure he would if I didn’t make something of myself. A parent’s love can be a bit conditional, can’t it?”

Eren’s words lingered in your mind. You tried to make sense of them, picking apart what he had shared with you and why. You let the sentiment hang heavy in the air. You didn’t allow it in. Your guard was as high as a watch tower, and you wouldn’t let him coax you into dropping it any time soon. You learned the hard way that he wasn’t the handle-with-care type. He liked to push his way in and mess up what wasn’t his. You bet he was also the guy who left hotel rooms in ruins, too, attributing it to his ‘rockstar lifestyle.’

You reached a hand toward one of the guitars, stopping short of touching it in case he was particular about them. When he didn’t stop you, you ran the tips of your fingers over the smooth wood. 

He was still at your side when he asked, “Do you play?”

You didn’t know when he became such a conversationalist. After a longer than necessary pause, you decided to answer. 

“More or less.” 

Based on his pause, you realized your answer wasn’t going to cut it. 

“I’ve been teaching myself. Only in my spare time, which, as you know, isn’t much.”

Before you even finished talking, Eren had started to take the guitar down from the wall.

“Show me what you can do.”

Your throat tightened. You scanned over his face. Once, then twice, and you couldn’t find any indication he was screwing with you.

You couldn’t remember the last time you even held a guitar; it had to be months ago. If Eren were to discover how rusty—no, how bad you were—he’d undoubtedly add it to his growing list of ways to embarrass you.

Your feet didn’t follow after him, but your eyes did. He made his way across the room, then expectantly turned to look at you. 

“It’s fine. I couldn’t.” You were stumbling over your words, trying to think how to crawl out of this hole you had dug. “Besides, I’m not even supposed to be here. I should probably get—”

“Yeesh,” Eren remarked. “Do you always talk this much when you’re nervous?”

“I’m not nervous!” It was a half-lie. You stopped toying with your fingers and proved it to him (and yourself) by waltzing right on past him. 

You sat on that pretty, vintage sofa—its fabric softer than you predicted—and waited for him to hand you the guitar. You didn’t let him lay the strap around your shoulder; you could manage that yourself.

“Good. Because it’s not like I’m gonna make fun of you.” He sounded just about as convincing as you did. A smirk dug into the corners of his cheeks. “Much.”

What did you say earlier?

Once you had adjusted the guitar comfortably in your lap, you slid your hand higher on the fretboard and felt the strings against the doughy tips of your fingers—a sensation you hadn’t experienced in a long while.

You looked up at Eren like you needed his permission. You stared at one another for a strange second, then eventually cleared your throat to ask, “What am I supposed to play?”

“I don’t know. Anything.”

That’s the problem—I don’t know ‘anything,’ at least not off the top of my head.

If your memory were a vault, you would have thought it had been raided and left barren, without even a penny left. Everything you had learned, everything you had taught yourself, vanished. You clammed up, the same way you did when someone asked about your favorite song or movie, and without fail, it was as if you had never consumed a piece of media in your life. How silly of you—able to sing for thousands upon thousands of people, but you couldn’t bring yourself to play the guitar in front of a single person. 

You were shrinking by the second. Eren must have sensed it, too. You expected him to ridicule you, but he only added, “Just show me what notes you know.”

That brightness was back. The very same that you swore you saw earlier on his face, you now heard in his words. His voice lifted, like he had thrown in a dash of sugar to help the bitter, ho-humness go down easier. You wouldn’t call it gentle, he wasn’t capable of that, but he did seem genuine. Truthfully, he had seemed genuine—maybe authentic was a better word—from the moment you entered his house. You didn’t know how to feel now that you recognized it for what it was. 

You sucked in a deep breath and told yourself you were only humoring him when you strummed a note. Another, too, as you learned the guitar, trying to remember how it was supposed to feel in your hands. It wasn’t like riding a bicycle, though; it felt entirely foreign. 

Your discomfort bled through you and onto every note like ink to paper. Everything felt wrong, down to the way you held Eren’s guitar, as if you were afraid of it. The more rigid you were, the more delicate your touch, the worse it sounded.

Eren let his head fall to one side. “Okay, I know you can do better than that.”

Perhaps it was his attempt at encouraging you, but it had the opposite effect. Your face was stricken with heat, your voice bordering into the embarrassed, whiny territory when you admitted, “I’m scared I’m going to break it.”

“Why would it break?” He gave a short, disbelieving laugh. “C’mon, just play it.”

You brushed him off with a tiny ‘fine, fine’ and started to play what little you could recall. Then, surprisingly, it came back to you. Slowly, but it did—up until you tried to hit an F chord. You were actually trying this time, too, but it was less like a hit and more like a weak swing. Even when you were alone in your bedroom, you hadn’t nailed it yet, couldn’t get your fingers in the right spots, or make it sound right despite pressing down so hard it made your fingers sting. It would take time to build the finger dexterity and strength—time you didn’t have.  

After another good try, Eren blurted out, “You have to do this,” like he couldn’t hold it in any longer. 

He came in closer, not sitting on the couch but walking around the back of it. With eyes fixed on your hand placement, you didn’t need to look to know when he stood behind you, to feel it when he leaned in closer.

Eren touched you without an ounce of hesitation, no different than if he had done it a million times before. He took your hand into his and adjusted one of your fingers a little to the left. Then he wrapped his fingers over yours, pressing them down on the strings harder than you had. You didn’t feel it, as if your fingers were numb. In fact, it sort of felt like your entire body went numb.

“There,” Eren said. He didn’t take his hand off yours, maintaining the same amount of pressure as he instructed, “Now strum.”

It reminded you of when someone was so awful at dancing they’d have to stand on their partner’s shoes. But you did as you were told, and already it sounded cleaner than a moment ago. And the second time sounded even better. Eren’s hand was slow to leave yours, but when it did, the note still held.

Singing was second nature to you; you had done it since childhood. But learning a new skill as an adult was another beast. You couldn’t help but think how much better you’d be—how practicing would suck less—if you had someone to teach you. Just to help you jump through the beginner’s hurdles like this and get your feet off the ground. 

Whatever! That didn’t matter now. You were delighted by the whole thing, so much so that you strummed and strummed, practicing your new riff as if Eren wasn’t there, not thinking anything of it when he came to sit by you. You were busy thinking about the guitar in your hands, how you wanted to spend the rest of the day with your guitar back home, if you could find it. You prayed it wasn’t Pieck texting you when you felt your phone buzz. You ignored it for now, already scheming ways you could sneak lessons into your schedule without her noticing.

You kept on playing, long after you thought you would. You went on, waiting for Eren to cut you off, but he never did. Once you realized you were still strumming away to your heart’s content, you finally stopped.

“That was better.” You heard the excitement growing in your voice. “That was totally better, right?”

Embarrassingly enough, Eren couldn’t give you an answer. And if you were to ask him what he was thinking about just then, he couldn’t tell you that either. He couldn’t remember a damn thing, not a note of it. He couldn’t even tell you if your finger placement was correct or not because your hand had already returned to your side.

A cold wave of panic rushed over him as he blanked on what to say. Whatever he told you besides ‘I don’t know’ would be a lie, so he just hoped he would say the right thing because he wasn’t sure what was going to come out, honestly.

“That was—that was good.”

His voice wavered, but you didn’t deem it worthy of another thought because you were too focused on your little win for the day. You couldn’t even suppress the grin on your face. That may have been the first compliment Eren had ever given you, if you were excluding the backhanded ones, which you were. 

The thought skipped through your mind, and what followed was the same nausea you get on a rollercoaster, that whooshing feeling and all. 

You couldn’t bear to look him in the face any longer, so you dropped your gaze and willed yourself calm. You tried to ignore how close the two of you were—how close you had been for some time now. You tried to look anywhere else, even tried not to be obvious about it, but you could only think of his knee against yours. You hadn’t noticed it before, and now it was the only thing you could feel.

When you met his eyes again, you found they were already staring back at you. You half expected him to pull back and crack some snide comment. You expected him to do anything besides the one thing you—way down deep inside you—really expected but couldn’t admit. 

Your heart started to thump faster, louder, ringing in your ears. When your phone vibrated again, you didn’t hear it. 

You couldn’t stand Eren. Everyone knew that already; you had drilled it into their heads dozens upon dozens of times. To even reiterate it now was redundant. But that didn’t cancel out your attraction to him. It didn’t work like that, unfortunately. You could deny it as much as you wanted—and you had at least three times in the last minute. Such passion-fueled emotions lived on the same spectrum. Both could exist at once, even if they were at odds with each other. Whether you liked it or not, lust wasn’t like a light switch; you couldn’t just flip it on and off whenever you wished—and yes, you were still working to accept that little, annoying fact. 

Eren didn’t need to know that, though. He couldn’t because that would mean he won.

Why was it then that you couldn’t move or breathe? Why weren’t you recoiling back from him as if he were the pest you believed him to be? Your silence was deafening; you were sure it told him everything he needed to know.

Your brain was screaming at you, desperate to know what the hell you were doing, but your body—well, that was a completely different story. For once, the heat at the back of your neck was almost pleasant. It wasn’t fizzing with anger but burning a path down your spine. It kindled the crests of your cheeks with… excitement?

You gripped the neck of the guitar tighter. 

Nothing about Eren had ever seemed so simple, but right then, he was. Simple and close and beautiful. No fuss, no antics, no bullshit. Just green eyes that melted from piercing to soft somewhere between when you picked up the guitar and now, you didn’t know when. Maybe that was him, beneath all his peacocking. The real Eren. 

You went back to that night, when you first met. How could you not? You thought you had forgotten most of it (minus you-know-what), but you were flooded with the memory, the very same feeling eating away at you bit by bit. 

It was different now; you weren’t rattling off sleazy flirts, and he wasn’t flexing, both literally and figuratively, but you could still feel the warmth of the firepit on your leg; how your suffocating dress and his hand on your thigh made your chest go tight. You could even remember how he tasted, the slurry of spirits on his breath. He’d taste different now, and you found yourself craving it without knowing it, yearning to discover what you had missed out on. 

“Maybe you should get that,” Eren said, his voice all quiet now. 

You blinked a few times, gathered yourself—blamed the concerning slip-up on your need for a vacation—but still had no clue as to what he was talking about. He must have read it on your face because you watched his eyes flit past you, to your buzzing phone. How long had it been doing that?

You swallowed down the thick feeling in your throat, only acknowledging Eren with a small nod before reaching for your phone behind you.

Mikasa had called; you just missed it. While you thought of a reason for her to call, you noticed she texted you a few times earlier. Big picture-wise, all of this was out of the ordinary but certainly not outlandish. But your opinion flipped, almost as quickly as your heart sank, when you saw a message from Jean—through Instagram. He wouldn’t have your phone number because, unlike Mikasa, if there was a reason for him to reach out to you, you couldn’t think of a single one. 

You spent more time debating which to open first, the message from Mikasa or the one from Jean, than it would take to read them both. You went with Jean; it, understandably, piqued your interest more. 

It was the wrong pick. The message only read, ‘Have you talked to Mikasa?’ Useless outside of sinking your heart even lower than before, like it had left your body entirely and splat on the floor. 

Mikasa texted again. You swiped to open it. 

You read her text chain backward, but out of convenience, you will recite them in chronological order:

Hey, is now a good time for me to call?

?

I need to tell you something important.

Insert missed call here.

Eren and Historia were out together last night. I thought you deserved to know, just in case it leaks.

Anger struck you like a shard of ice, leaving you frozen. You hadn’t flinched. You weren’t even sure if you had blinked yet. You just sat there, staring at your phone screen—Eren couldn’t see it from here. There was no need for a rash decision; you only needed a second to compose yourself before—

“What’s wrong?”

In any other circumstance, it would have been the polite question to raise. Two words, two syllables. That was all it took for you to snap.

Perhaps you should be grateful Eren was right beside you, within perfect strangling proximity. Screw your composure, it wasn’t the time for it. You might as well get the inevitable argument out of the way.

“What’s wrong?” you barked back. It teetered on a scoff or a laugh—something of the sort. “You’re seriously asking me what’s wrong like you don’t know. You were with Historia last night. People saw the two of you together.”

Eren got this brittle look on his face, his lips gone tight. Where you would expect him to lie, he only went silent. Somehow, that felt even worse. It was the coward’s way out. 

You slithered out from beneath the strap and set the guitar on the cushion beside you. It didn’t need to become collateral damage. Unwilling to sit next to Eren for another second, you sprung to your feet and stood over him—looked down on him.

“One thing,” you seethed. “That was all I asked of you—”

Eren interrupted like the pedantic son of a bitch he was. “Technically, you asked two things of me.”

You continued as if it was nothing more than radio static. “You’re the reason I’m stuck in this mess, and you couldn’t be bothered to do this one tiny, little thing for me, could you?”

Then he laughed. He laughed!

“Because of me? You can’t be serious.” He sat himself a bit higher in his seat. He wouldn’t stand quite yet; he was trying to stay calmer, cooler, than you. It was another competition to him, but you could see through it. “I think we both know you were just as much a part of it as I was.”

You weren’t in the mood for splitting the blame, and you weren’t about to back down, either. He was the problem, not you. Right or not, you double-downed on your stance. You were emphatic about it, even as you paced around the room.

“If you weren’t you—if I had kissed anyone else—then it wouldn’t have mattered! I’m only here because I chose the worst possible person.”

Your logic was shaky at best, and Eren knew you knew it, too. You could tell by the way his eyes narrowed, trying to make sense of something nonsensical. He took a long breath, then stood from the couch. He didn’t come any closer, and he talked to you with his hands, palms to the floor. It reminded you of a hostage negotiator.

“Look, no one important saw. It’s not like we were out at an event. It was just a party.” He spoke like a hostage negotiator, too. But as he said the words, something must have clicked in his head. His demeanor changed, his voice sharp. “You said it yourself, you know. ‘Just don’t get caught with her in public.’”

You made this sound, one you couldn’t describe, through clenched teeth. It was some combination of a groan and a shriek. An exasperated, fed-up sound, with your hands curled like you wanted to wring him out.

You both knew that wasn’t how you meant it. What you were talking about was just the two of them, in the privacy of their own homes. Anyone at that party could have snapped a photo and sold the story for who knows how much cash. It wasn’t that unbelievable, considering the obvious.

You didn’t like your words being used against you. No, not just that, but twisted and manipulated. Rules bent but not broken, all so Eren could weasel his way out of it. That wouldn’t be happening. 

There was nothing left to say that would be productive, but you weren’t finished with him yet. You still had this little ball of hate in you, festering, and you wanted to spew it at him. 

“Are you even listening?” Eren asked.

He was across the room from you, over by the couch. You dragged your eyes back to him. When you did, you noticed that shirt again. It meant something to you this time; no longer thrown over the couch out of laziness but evidence of last night. Had Historia torn it off him in the throes of passion as they stumbled off to his bedroom? Or did they just fuck right there, where you were sitting minutes before?

“That’s why you look like shit then—you were up fucking Historia all night.” You weren’t even there, but you were trying to piece the night together as if you were. “Is she still here?”

Eren glared at you with this dead look behind his eyes. You could practically hear him say, ‘You can’t be serious.’ He didn’t need to utter a word.

Eren dropped back to the sofa, resting his elbows on his knees. “I don’t know why any of this matters. None of this is real.” He rubbed his hands over his eyes. “I want to be in this situation as much as you do. Believe me.”

Your jaw dropped. His lack of an answer said enough. But you wanted to hear him say it, so you repeated, “Is she still here?”

He didn’t lift his face from his hands, but it didn’t hide the mutter he gave under his breath. “You drive me fucking crazy.” He looked up, shook his head, and snorted like your question was ridiculous. “No, she’s not still here. She left last night.”

You sneered, “Fucked her, then kicked her out like the gentleman you are. That’ll really win her back, won’t it?”

Eren opened his mouth, presumably to defend himself, but he cut himself short. Then, to your surprise, his expression let up. And was that a smile you saw?

“Wait a minute.” He leaned in knowingly. “Are you jealous?”

You weren’t even going to entertain the thought. “No, I’m not fucking jealous!” 

His eyebrow furrowed in delighted curiosity. “Really? Because it sort of seems like—”

“Stop trying to make this about you! I’m not jealous. I’m pissed off because you made a promise, then went and broke it. Now you can’t even apologize.”

How he spoke about this infuriated you. It was as if this was all just a big joke to him, like it was nothing to him—like you were nothing to him. 

Eren sighed and stood up again. He took a few steps toward you before saying, “I’m sorry that I didn’t think a pinky promise actually meant something.” He looked pleased with himself, even crossed his arms. “Happy now?”

You wanted to yell back. Tell him how you would never go back on your word, even for someone as scummy as him. It wasn’t the pinky promise that mattered but the underlying mutual respect. Or lack thereof, you supposed. But to explain it to him would be futile. He wouldn’t understand, anyway. He wasn’t even worth the spent oxygen. 

And there you had it: the Eren you remembered. The Eren you knew he was from the start.

“Well, you have your jacket back.” You barely had the voice to say it. You weren’t hurt. No, you wouldn’t let that happen. You just didn’t know what you were feeling, that was all. “There’s no reason for me to stay any longer.”

You wanted the last word. You at least deserved that, so you scampered out the door before Eren could say anything—before any tears could break your waterline.

Once you were back in your car, you were shaking in anger. It prickled through you like hot needles and made it hard to hold your phone still. 

You indulged in social media as much as the next person, but you knew your limit, and you certainly knew where and what to avoid. Above all, you never read the comments on those exploitative, tabloid-y posts.

But you chose to throw yourself into the lion’s pit today. You needed to know what people were saying about Eren, about Historia—about you. You just had to. 

Regarding the happy couple, there wasn’t anything new or egregious. You could sweat that off, at least. You only wished you could say the same about yourself. 

You couldn’t even process what you were seeing because it only felt like a nightmare. All of these accounts, ones dedicated to Devil’s Paradise and Eren, his dumb face in profile picture after profile picture, relentlessly bashing you. It was all recent, too, within the day.

To think, this whole thing with Eren—the fake relationship, the fighting, the hurt—was to ‘save your image.’ To stop you from becoming the slut your team made you out to be. But you’d seen that word, amongst others, used against you more in the last few minutes than in your entire life. You saw enough to realize that none of this had been worth it.

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