#you don’t want to see it because you know it’ll make you feel gross but you just want to see how far it does and what it’ll look like

[peachcitt]

me: listening to tma again will just make me sad and frustrated especially in s2 because jon makes every bad decision possible

s2 jon: (spies on his coworkers’ houses)

me: fucking freak. tell me more

[sister-lucifer]

can we get gross pervy dom toby content 🙏

Some Gross Pervy Dom Toby Content 

Toby Rogers x Gender Neutral Reader

Genre: NSFW 

Summary: There is really no plot to be summarized, Toby’s just a horndog and he chased you down. good fuckin luck  

Content/Warnings: Dubcon/Noncon elements, implied stalking, horror elements, Toby being creepy, Toby smells you and touches you in the weirdest manner you can possibly imagine, NSFW with minimal (mostly implied) plot, no real sex happens just fucked up shit, no seriously this is nasty as fuck i’m getting put on a list for this 

Like my writing? I take requests! NSFW or SFW for any fandoms in my bio (request rules + masterlist in pinned post)!

Also, please reblog! it’s free, takes two seconds, and really helps me out 

Feedback is encouraged and appreciated:)

Not fully proofread! Let me know if you see any errors!

A/N: Just to avoid confusion, in my headcanon Toby has a stutter as well as but separate from his tourette’s; i’m writing his stutter, not his tics! thankies!

also READ THE FUCKING WARNINGS THIS ONE IS NASTY

Staring down the barrel of a loaded gun would fill you with less dread than staring up at the lanky boy who’s currently towering over you. 

You don’t have to look at him to know there’s a twisted smile filled with crooked, chipped teeth spread across his face, hazel eyes scrunched at the corners as he grins like a madman. You don’t want to look at him, really, but you can’t stop yourself before you’re slowly craning your neck to see. Slowly his face comes into view, and it’s even more unsettling than you could prepare for. 

His messy brown hair flicks up in all directions and partly obscures his eyes, and yet they seem to glow in the dim light of the sunset. One of his arms is above you, folded against the wall, while the other cages you into the corner. Besides his fingers drumming restlessly, he’s not moving, but his entire body is trembling with….excitement? His chest is heaving like he’s struggling to breathe, and the uncomfortable feeling of his warm exhale fanning over your face makes you shudder, and…oh god, is he drooling over you? Shit—

You press yourself hard against the wall, face burning hot against the cool air of the drafty abandoned building. Something tells you you shouldn’t take your eyes off of him for too long, but in your peripheral vision you can see through the broken windows. There’s nothing but trees in all directions, and the sky is rapidly darkening with each passing second. You’re watching any chance you had of escaping in the daylight slip from your fingers. Everything is becoming much too disorienting much too fast, thoughts racing and overlapping and screaming at you to do something, but you can’t. All at once you’re trying to figure out an escape plan, how to appease your captor for long enough to execute an escape plan, and how you even got here in the first place. 

The last thing you remember is running from him, the branches of the thicket grabbing at your pants and arms as if trying to hold you back. You had no choice but to run into the old hospital, but now you’re wishing you’d simply kept going. 

You must’ve moved too much for Toby’s liking, because he suddenly grabs onto your arm with a grip that feels strong enough to snap the bone in two. You yelp in pain, a second gloved hand quickly clamping over your mouth. The echo of your cry rings loud in your ears, and for a moment you wonder if it’ll ever go quiet again. 

“You…you…” Toby stutters, and your eyes widen at the sound of his voice. You aren’t sure what you were expecting to hear, but he just sounds so…normal, like any other nineteen year old boy, except if it were anyone else in any other scenario a mere couple of syllables wouldn’t strike such fear into you. 

“You ran a loooong t-time…” He scolds, but his grin doesn’t falter. He brings his hand away from your mouth to shake a finger at you, seemingly trusting you not to scream. 

Not like it would matter. You made him chase you pretty far in. 

In an instant his hands are on your waist, slipping under your shirt and eagerly grabbing at the soft flesh he finds beneath. You have to bite your tongue to hold back another yelp. 

“Oh, ooohh but it w-was worth it!” Toby slurs with a drawl, “I’ve f-finally fooouund yooouu, aha…” 

He sounds so proud of himself. Something about his tone is almost childish, deceivingly so. He truly thinks he’s done something amazing. 

Your heart skips a beat when he suddenly freezes, face going void of all emotion, and you wonder if you’ve truly angered him. If you did, would that be the mistake that ended it all? 

Fortunately, it seems he was just changing gears. You panic when you realize he’s leaning in towards you, but he moves past your face to practically bury his nose in your neck, taking a long and deep breath. He lets out a faint laugh as he breathes out, and it feels like a horrible sensation crawling down your spine. The only thing you can do is grab onto his arms, nails digging into the dirty and worn fabric of his hoodie. It’s practically caked with dried mud in some areas and you can feel the dry cracking beneath your hands. 

“I m-missed your…your s-smell…” Toby whispers. You’re confused for a moment, and it takes a few seconds for it all to set in. 

‘Missed?’ 

He’d…smelled you before? 

He ‘missed’ you… 

“I-I should have…should have visited m-more…I-I got ssso busy, b-but I didn’t forget you, I-I promise…” 

He keeps talking, but it starts to fade out. Only a few words matter, anyways. 

There’s an incredibly brief moment of clarity that flashes through your mind, a split second flicker of understanding that you hadn’t just been misplacing or losing things, that you weren’t imagining all those noises or shadows that you told yourself were childish things to be afraid of, and it nearly floods your brain before it disappears as quickly as it appeared. Maybe you purposefully pushed it out, at least for now. There was too much going on to process the past. If you were lucky enough to get out of this alive, you could reflect then. 

You’re frozen for a few moments as Toby’s idle hands begin to wander, as they always do. He’s at least considerate enough to feel you up through your clothes, but that doesn’t stop you from sucking in a harsh breath through your teeth when he roughly gropes your ass. It forces you to push yourself into him as you try to get away from the aggressive grip. You can feel him laugh with his chest pressed flush against yours. 

He takes the opportunity to wrap his arms around you, and it’s become painfully obvious that he’s much stronger than he looks. You’d never expect someone so skinny to be able to manhandle you like this. 

He sways slowly from side to side as he holds you, one unsteady hand toying with your hair in a gesture that, on Toby’s end, seems as though it is meant to be sincere. 

“Th-There’s so much I want t-to do to y— to do with y-you…so little time…” He goes on muttering to himself over something or other, but you can’t understand him as he trails off. 

He seems preoccupied with his own thoughts, distracted enough that you begin to squirm. He doesn’t react, continuing to quietly rant about nothing while stroking your head. You struggle again, a bit bolder this time. Nothing. 

Maybe you actually had a chance, you just had to slip away. Hell, maybe you’d get lucky and run the right way on the first try; for all you know you’re only a mile away from a highway, that could be your lifeline. You just had to slip away— 

“Stop it! Stop doing that!” 

…Easier said than done, it seems. 

Hearing Toby yell, seemingly allowing a genuine flash of anger to overtake him as he slams you back against the wall, chills you to the core. He was unpredictable, bouncing back and forth between the extremes of whatever emotion he was feeling, making it impossible to plan around his potential actions. 

His hand splays out across your chest to keep you pinned to the wall. He’s applying much more pressure than he needs to, and he knows it. His smile twitches as you struggle to recover from having the wind knocked out of you. 

When he reaches back for his pocket, you expect him to pull out a weapon; maybe a knife, or even a small handgun you somehow hadn’t noticed. 

But no. He returns with something much smaller, and your brows furrow in confusion as you struggle to make out the shape among the shadows that have quickly taken over your space. 

“What’s t-the matter?” Toby asks, “Never seen a-a condom before?”

He snickers cruelly at the way your mouth hangs open in reply. 

“Whaaaat? I-I’m trying to be nice…don’t be a bitch.” 

“N…Nice?!” You choke out in reply, and this time Toby’s jaw drops. 

“Oh, it does speak!” He exclaims with genuine excitement. “Good, good…s-so good…” 

He holds the corner of the wrapper in his mouth so that his hand can be free to fumble with his belt. The sound of the buckle clanking as he slips it off makes your stomach flip. Your gaze flicks quickly back and forth from his pants back to his eyes, and he hasn’t stopped staring at you. You haven’t even seen him blink. 

His tongue runs over his glistening teeth as he prepares to speak again: 

“I h-hope you squeal for me, pretty thing…When we’re done here, I’m t-takin’ you with me…” 

[pombeom]

okay never rlly done this before but here me out, txt fic inspired by "guess" by charli xcx and billie eilish. i dont have a member preference but i based it on tae (›´ω`‹ ) HERE ME OUT roomatetyunx reader. txt and reader's friend group decide to go out for dinner/clubbing. reader has secretly been liking tae for a WHILE, and THIS WAS THE NIGHT. and reader puts on a very VERY short skirt/dress (they know what they were doing) and purposely leans down when tae is behind them *evil laughs*

(also imagined it as afab but idrc)

sorry i dont have anything else to add but you now have the reins (๑˘ꇴ˘๑)

guess | taehyun fic (nsfw)

nsfw, mdni!

pairings: domroommate!taehyun x subtease!reader

warnings: soobin present at the start, lots of mentions of underwear, teasing, fingering, scissoring, wall sex, creampie, squirting, messy sex, taehyun is kinda kinky, panty stuffing, mentions of exhibitionism, they both have sex while standing up, taehyun gives orders and reader follows, nicknames (baby, slut), unprotected sex, lots of dirty talking, am i forgetting something??

a/n: thank you so much for your request! decided to go with taehyun cos i could envision your request so clearly. you guys are such teases istg but im all here for it 🤧

Being Taehyun’s roommate isn’t for the weak. The way he’s come back after his daily workouts in his compression shirts with his hair pushed back made your knees quiver every time he would walk in through the door. You swore it was a secret you guarded with your life but everyone around you seemed to know of your little crush. Your friends managed to catch on as soon as they witnessed your head swivel whenever he’d walk past, staring a little too longingly in his direction. 

“Y/n you should just tell him at this point. I can’t watch you drool over him any longer, it’s gross,” Soobin advises you on your way out from class. 

“No but what if doesn’t feel the same way?” 

“Trust me. He does. And if he doesn’t then that’s his loss. I’ll bag you up if he doesn’t want you,” his wink had you reacting with a disgusted scowl.

“Anyway, we’re meeting up for dinner this Saturday. One of our friends has had to cancel last minute so there’s an extra space in the reservation. Wanna come? Taehyun’s coming too you know. Maybe you can finally tell him how you feel.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“Oh come on. We’re heading the the club after. It’ll be fun.” 

“Fine. Only because you insisted.” 

“You don’t need to lie to me. I know you’re only coming cos Taehyun’s coming.” 

“Shut up.” 

By the time Saturday evening rolls up, you had planned your outfit and gone through your confession speech multiple times. You finished your hair and makeup and slipped into a black mini dress that was slightly too short but it hugged your figure so well that you wanted to show off as much as you can. You pair it with a black kitten heel, preparing for your time at the club later that night. But most importantly, your needy cunt was exposed through the black lace underwear you wore under your tiny dress. 

Feeling a sense of feigned confidence, you step out of your room, heading into your shared living space where Taehyun was waiting. He’s sat sprawled across the armchair, taking up the entire seat as he manspread whilst scrolling through his phone. Upon hearing the clacking of your heels, his head jolts up taking in your presence. He eyes your naked thighs, feeling the sharpness of his gaze lasering through your legs making your knees go weak. 

“You look nice,” his compliment has your confidence crumbling as you instantly resort back to your usual shyness. 

“Thank you,” your voice comes out more strained than you wanted but this was a reaction to the current wetness building up in your folds as you begin to notice the way his shirt clings to his body, looking almost see-through under his brown jacket. 

“You ready to go?” 

He follows you to the door when suddenly you pause.

“Hang on. Just need to fix my heels. The strap is a little loose.” 

You arch forward, bending down to reach your shoes as the back of your dress rides up. You felt exposed as your underwear was evidently wet but you sought the thrill of provoking a reaction from the man behind you. Even as you were still bent down fumbling with your straps, you felt his gaze staring heavily into your core, past the black lace fabric. 

“Ok, I’m done. We can go now.” 

You hand barely reaches the doorknob before you’re being pulled back into his chest. 

“You think it’s funny to tease me like that?”

“Mhm?? What do you mean?” 

“Playing dumb won’t work on me.” 

“I don’t get it. What are you talking about?” You kept egging him on with your masquerade of innocence, each step getting him a little further to your desired goal. 

“You’re still gonna keep going with that? Even after you flashed your underwear to me?”

“What? I did that? Really? I bet you don’t even know the colour of my underwear.”

“Oh baby, I don’t even have to guess. I saw that black lace with my very own eyes. That little bow was cute too.” 

You hadn’t noticed until you felt his breath against your neck but he has inched closer to you, his arms slowly crawling up your legs, grabbing onto your waist. Your cheeks burned from the closeness you had been longing for. 

“You wanna tell me you did that on purpose or are you gonna keep pretending that you flashed me by accident?” His voice grumbled, echoing through the chambers of your mind. 

Your breath was shaky and unstable as you managed to answer his question, “It was on purpose, Taehyun.”

Before you knew it, his lips came crashing onto your, sucking the life out of you. The lustful kiss had you moaning into his mouth as his tongue darts into yours, claiming you for himself. 

“I knew it. Now take those panties off.” 

Lifting your dress up, you slip your underwear down, letting it fall to the ground as the wetness begins dripping down your legs.

“Shit, look at you. Fucking drenched already. Bet you’ve been dreaming of this: wanting to strip naked in front of me just so I can get a look at how much of a slut you are for me. Am I right?” 

“You’re righ- ahh!” 

His fingers circle your entrance before you get then chance to finish, teasing your hole. Before long, he pushes in 2 long fingers, struggling to keep going in your tight, clenched pussy. 

“God, are you a virgin? You’re so fucking tight.” He groans as he manages to get his fingers deep into your core, feeling the tightness squeeze his digits. 

“Mhmm… I am. Wanted your cock to be the first inside me.” 

“Fucking hell. You’ve been waiting for me all this time huh? Guess I’ll have to give you everything you’ve dreamed of.” 

His fingers scissor you walls, stretching you out in preparation for his cock. The way your muscles are pulled sends shock waves running down your leg, almost losing sensation in them as you’re on the verge of collapsing, gripping onto Taehyun’s shoulders for support. 

“I want your dick in me. Now!” You demand. 

“Why so desperate? You’ve been such a tease and you won’t even let me finger your cunt. But ok, I’ll give it to you. Just don’t expect me to go easy.” 

He unzips his trousers, pulling them down along with his boxers in one go. He strips himself of his jacket, remaining only in his white form-fitting t-shirt. 

His cock springs up onto his stomach. The tip is red while his length is girthy and long beyond average, the veins matching the ones that run up his forearms. He teases your hole by pumping just the tip in making you grind against him, hips rolling as you force yourself onto him. 

He pushes your back up against the wall, controlling your movement before slamming straight into your gummy walls, your moans shrieking out from surprise. 

“Fuck Taehyun! Keep going like that!”

His movements are controlled and precise, making sure to hit the g-spot with each pump. Your moans become uncontrollable with the increase in speed, crying as he slams into your repeatedly, abusing your cunt. 

He then lifts up your thigh, holding it against his waist, allowing him to hit different angles making your mind feel fuzzy at the new sensation. 

“Fuck. If you keep clenching round my cock like that, I might cum already.” His grunts are disheveled and all over the place as he begins to lose control over his speed, rutting into you like some dog. 

“I’m gonna cum too. Please. Please come in me.” Your whispers are the only sound that comes out you as your voice has cracked with all the screams you let out.

He spills his spurts inside you, coating your walls in white as you feel his dick throbbing inside your trembling pussy. Your orgasm hit like the ocean onto the rocks, the speed at which you came leading to a spray of liquid to shoot out. Your eyes instantly shut, feeling exhausted from being fucked out to your climax. 

“You squirted?” 

“I guess I did.” 

After letting your body cool down from the intensity, you pick up your panties, getting ready to slip them back on, when Taehyun’s voice hisses at you, grabbing your underwear from your hands before shoving them up your stretched hole, pushing it in deeper and deeper until it remains stuck in your sobbing cunt.

“Let’s see how you tease everyone else looking like this.” 

“But Taehyun, it was only meant for you. I can’t go out like this. Let me out them back on, please” 

“Only for me huh? You only want me to see you in this state?” 

You nod frantically, “You’re the one I like Taehyun.” 

“The little brat likes me. Well I like you too. Your pussy was made for my cock and you take it so well. But you still deserved to be punished for teasing me like that. Keep the underwear stuffed in your pussy and go put on another pair.”

Following his orders, you head back to your room, picking out some pink panties, feeling the black lace slipping out. You push it back in and secure it in place by hitching the pink pair up high. You waddle back to Taehyun who was now fully dressed again. Your legs feel uncomfortably shaky as you walk but his arms hold your waist, supporting you. He bends down checking that you’ve followed his orders, grinning with satisfaction as he catches a glimpse of the pinkx

“Good girl. Now no one can guess what you have going on under there but me.” 

[boydepartment]

hiii can you do enha finding out you have a crush on them from one of the members

“R U FR?” - enhypen reaction to finding out you’re in love with them

a/n: i am so sorry this took a million years BUT HERE IT IS :3 I ALSO DIDNT KNOW HOW TO TITLE THIS SO I HOPE PPL READ THE ASK LMAO

warnings- nothing- fluff, reader uses she/her

MASTERLIST

🥯jungwon… he was working on some lyrics for a song that he wanted to write. he never really took part in something like this directly so it was new to him. and he was struggling.

“jay… i don’t know what to write, it’s a love song! i’m struggling.” he leaned his head on the desk and watched as jay messed with the different knobs on his guitar.

“ask y/n she’s like in love with you.” jay mumbled without thinking, he shot his head up and looked at jungwon who also shot up.

jungwon slowly turned to jay, “are you… being honest with me?”

his older brother sat awkwardly, “ummm if i said yes?”

almost immediately jungwon got up and called you asking your location, if he had to run to you he would. and he was going to.

🥨heeseung… he sat on his back in the practice room singing to himself. he took up extra practices for the next upcoming comeback and you had left a couple hours ago after dropping him off lunch. he was so thankful for you and it made him smile to himself. around 4am riki walked in and sat down next to heeseung.

“dude it smells like body odor and noodles in here what the fuck did you do?” riki asked between laughs

heeseung sat up and rolled his eyes, “it smells like noodles because y/n dropped me off food.”

riki scoffed, “when did she drop off the food? i didn’t see her.”

heeseung leaned back again, “couple hours ago, around 1am.”

“1AM???? damn she really is in love with you hah!” riki froze right after the words came out of his mouth. god he spoils everything.

“wh-what??” heeseung looked at him wide eyed, ears pink.

riki immediately got up and ran out, leaving heeseung to sit in the practice room alone blushing.

🥐jay… you had a rough couple weeks due to family stuff and jay felt bad. you were a really close friend of his and he hated seeing you so upset. to make you feel better jay started cooking you your favorite meal. he was in the kitchen cooking and planning out his day so he can drop it off to you while it’s still warm. he was mumbling to himself when jake walked in.

“is this dinner?” jake asked, sitting on the counter. jay looked at him.

“1 get your ass off the counter, and 2 no, it’s for y/n, it’s her favorite.”

jake looked at the food, “this is a lot to give her.”

jay nodded, “i’m hoping it’ll last her a few days, it’s been rough for her lately.”

“i’m sure her just seeing you will make her feel better, she talks about you all the time yaknow?” jake said mindlessly, ass still sat on the counter.

jay nodded and hummed without thinking. jake thought he was ignoring him so he wanted to test it, “she’s in love with you.”

jay’s eyes widened and he almost dropped the wooden spoon, he looked over at jake and smacked him with it, “that’s not funny and i told you get your ass off the counter!”

🧇jake… he was waiting for you to come over to the dorm. you needed help on an essay and jake had free time so he offered to help you. he also loved to keep his skills sharp so he lived vicariously through your university work. he was frantically cleaning his room when sunoo walked in.

“oh you’re finally cleaning your room?” sunoo spoke leaning on the doorframe, arms crossed.

jake looked up at him, “yeah y/n is coming over, it needs to be clean i don’t want her to be grossed out by me.”

sunoo scoffed, “she’s seen you laugh so hard snot comes out of your nose and she’s still in love with you.”

jake stopped mid throw, his paper ball not landing in the trash, “wait what?”

sunoo laughed, throwing his head back, “oh nothing!” before walking to his own room. jake was suddenly hyper aware of his messy room and the time. you were going to arrive any minute and he was sweating nervously.

🥞sunghoon… he was getting dressed up to meet you for coffee. you were actually in town for the week so he wanted to see you again. you had been busy with classes and work and just life in general. so sunghoon wanted to take you out for froyo, he was buttoning up his coverup and putting on cologne when heeseung entered the bathroom.

“do you have a date today or something?” heeseung looked at him, eyebrows rising.

sunghoon shook his head no, “just taking y/n out for ice cream.”

heeseung now looked at him funny, “are you sure it’s not a date? she likes you a lot yaknow, like love love.”

“what? what do you mean!?” sunghoon flipped around to look at him, “do i look okay? is it too much? should i change? wait she’s in love with me?!”

heeseung left the bathroom after tapping him on the shoulder and a small good luck.

🍞sunoo… you and sunoo were having your monthly movie nights. it used to be weekly but since he became an idol he gets busy a lot. but you were willing to wait the once a month for these movie nights and for him. you were knocked out on the couch in the dorm and sunoo walked to the hall closet to get you an extra blanket. jay walked past him but stopped, jay knew you were going to confess to sunoo today. he was the one who told you to

“did y/n talk to you yet?”

sunoo smiled to himself, “we always talk, why?”

“so are you guys together now or?”

sunoo looked at him a little confused. jay yawned and stretched a bit, he was half asleep as he started walking again, “she was supposed to confess how she’s been in love with you for years. guess she forgot to.”

sunoo walked back quickly to you practically shaking you awake after that. he loved you just as much as you loved him, and sleep was not going to get in the way of that.

🍰riki… you were in the shower in the dorm. on the way home from a cafe it started pouring which led to you getting soaked. riki knew you were bad with the cold so he immediately shoved you in the bathroom with a change of warm clothes. not wanting you to get sick, then he walked to his room to make sure it was tidy and had enough blankets for you both.

jake was already in his room though, “what’re you doing in here?”

jake looked up, “looking for the ipad, where is it?”

riki blinked, “i need it you can’t have it right now.” he started rearranging the blankets on his bed. jake looked at him, jaw agape.

“what the hell for what?! give it!”

riki looked back at him, “you’re acting like you’re the child.” jake started searching riki’s desk.

“hey! cut it out! me and y/n are watching a movie after she gets out of the shower!” riki said and smacked him with a pillow.

jake stopped and his grin widened, “ohhhhhhhhhhh okay then never mind, if you and your girlfriend wanna watch a movie then i’m good i’ll just use heeseung’s pc.”

riki’s ears turned pink, “she’s not my girlfriend…” never in his life was he going to tell you his feelings for you.

“what really? i heard her talking on the phone the other day about how much she was in love with you? huh… maybe i heard wrong.” at that jake got up and left and almost immediately you entered the room. you looked at riki who was pink all over.

“ummm are you okay? do you have a fever?”

[gold-dustwomxn]

mystified

part 4

summary: after sudden attacks on women around town, you take a self defense class. ellie, your long standing crush is the instructor

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4

cw: violence, alcohol consumption, smoking weed, smut mdni!!!!

oral (e receiving), strap (r receiving)

angst fluff and smut

a loud chiming paired with vibrations has you jumping up, hand pressed flat against your racing heart. your rude alarm blares into your ear as you groan into your pillow. shit never fails to scare you half to death time every single time. as you lay in your bed and wipe away the sleep from your eyes, your mind floods with ellie ellie ellie. you’ve been with her practically everyday and you can’t seem to get enough of her. she’s the first thing on your mind when you wake up, and the last thing on your mind before you fall asleep.

ellie🌿🗡️: Morning babe. I hope you have a good day. Try to pay attention in class instead of texting me. I’ll see you later🖤

me: good morninggg💗 i’ll try my best for u 🫡 try not to get injured at work again

you giggle and feel those butterflies in your stomach again. it’s pathetic how giddy she makes you feel from a simple text.

dina🤍: are u and ellie coming to the party tonight? istg if u say no

me: uggh idk. u know I hate those college parties

dina🤍: cmonnn u guys never come out. youve both been holed up in a lesbian fuck fest for like 2 weeks straight

me: LMAO stfu. fine I’ll ask ellie if she wants to go

ellie grudgingly agrees to go to said party for your sake, and because she’s been neglecting her friendship with jesse just a little bit— too preoccupied with wanting to spend as much time as possible with you, and you her.

she decides she’ll stay sober for the night so she can drive and keep an eye on you. as you walk into the party hand in hand, you’re flooded with an overwhelming stench of alcohol and weed, strobing lights and music so loud that you feel the bass thumping in your chest. it’s too fucking crowded and hot. you need a drink to loosen up.

“well, well, well, would you look at who the cat dragged in.” jesse smirks at the two of you, receiving a double eye roll from both you and ellie. “who the fuck speaks like that anymore jesse?” ellie says with a laugh. “just good to see you alive in the flesh and all.” dina giggles and attacks you with a warm hug.

she steals your attention away from ellie, fiddling with your shirt with a goofy smirk. you laugh and narrow your eyes, “what is it?” dina leans in closer to whisper, “so, what’s the deal with you two.. are you official yet?”

you look at ellie to make sure she isn’t watching and whisper, “no, we haven’t.. labeled anything? I don’t know.. I mean, I do wanna make it official, but I don’t wanna scare her away, you know? kinda just letting it play out and see what happens.”

she looks at you, unamused. “stop being a pussy, you guys have been in love with each other for years. It’s not like she’s some random girl that you just met.” you roll your eyes, “relaxxx, it’ll happen when it happens.” dina laughs and shakes her head, “whatever you say. I need another drink.”

as she walks over to mix a gross concoction of god knows what, your eyes drift back to ellie who is preoccupied, deep in conversation with jesse. your eyes wander over every inch of her, biting your lip. her muscles are pulled taut against her flannel, jeans tight around her thighs, intoxicating green eyes glowing from the flashing lights in the room. one drink has you so fucking horny, it’s ridiculous.

ellie catches you staring and raises an eyebrow, “you good, babe?” she chuckles. you look away, trying to save face. “yup, I’m feeling good. can you come with me to the bathroom?” she nods with no hesitation, innocently thinking that you just want her to stick close by.

as soon as the door closes, you pull her tightly against you by the loopholes of her jeans and slam your lips into hers. she freezes for a moment, caught off guard, but quickly catches up, slipping her tongue into your mouth with a groan and sliding her hands down to squeeze your ass.

she then tugs at your hair, pulling your head back, breathless and takes a look at your glossy eyes, and down at your swollen lips. “what do you think you’re doing, huh?” she rasps out, smirking. you lean in, placing wet, needy kisses on her neck, pawing and squeezing at her biceps, “I wanna go down on you so bad right now.” you practically whine in her ear.

she chuckles, “right now? in here?” she looks around the bathroom, scrunching up her face. “we’ve been here for like a half hour, babe.”

you cup her through her jeans, watching her breath get heavy, “c’mon, don’t you wanna feel my mouth on you?” you pout.

she removes your hand and pulls you tight against her, brushing your hair to the side, placing a kiss on your neck. you whimper as she licks a slow stripe up to the sweet spot behind you ear, giving it a small suck.

“you’re gonna be a good girl for me and wait until later.” she whispers into the shell of your ear, making you shudder. you mentally curse her for having more self control than you, while ellie mentally curses herself because she’s horny as fuck now, but loves teasing you. “ugh, fine, ellie.” she chuckles and pats your cheek, leaning in to give you one more lingering kiss.

dina being dina convinces you to take multiple shots of tequila with her while ellie stands with jesse watching the both of you dance, laughing in amusement at the two of you.

as the night goes on, you start to stumble. ellie grabs onto you, “hey, baby, I think it’s time you lay off the drinks now, huh?” she chuckles at you. you wrap your arms around her neck and nod, “mhmm, I’m getting tired. can we leave soon?” you slur out. she nods, wrapping her arms around your waist, “yeah, we can go now.”

after you say your goodbyes to dina and jesse, you walk behind ellie, trying to make your way through the sea of bodies to head out.

all of a sudden, you feel a hand squeeze your ass and you gasp, stumbling into ellie. you turn around and see a guy grinning, reeking of booze. “don’t fucking touch me!”

ellie turns around and takes in the scene, her face morphing into one of rage. she places you behind her and shoves him hard against his chest. “back the fuck up,” she grits out.

he laughs mockingly. “oh, what, is this your bitch?” time seems to stop for a moment, a chill traveling down your spine as you watch her face drop, making you suddenly feel stone cold sober.

ellie punches him square in the face, making him stumble back. people begin to move out the way, circling them, whooping and hollering as if it’s a fucking show.

he lunges at her, trying to hit back. she catches his wrist and twists his arm, as she elbows him in the face, making him fall down and grab his now seemingly broken nose.

your jaw drops as you watch ellie climb on top of him, knee to his chest as she throws punch after punch. “ellie! stop!” she doesn’t hear you, doesn’t even seem to be present in her own body.

jesse hears the commotion and runs into the room. he grabs ellie, trying to pull her off of him “ellie, stop! you got him! you’re gonna get arrested if you don’t stop!”

ellie stands up, chest heaving as she flexes and shakes out her aching hand, knuckles bloody. she looks at you, her gaze softening with guilt as she takes in your upset demeanor.

you look around at all of the people staring, and grab ellie’s arm. “c’mon, we’re leaving. now.” she looks at you as you swiftly walk ahead of her to her car. “I’m sorry-“

you cut her off, “ellie, what the fuck?! you can’t just go around beating the shit out of people like that.”

she huffs and throws her arms up in the air defensively, looking as if she was about to speak, but stops herself.

“you looked like you were gonna kill him.”

she scoffs “I wasn’t gonna kill him.” you turn to look at her, “well, if jesse hadn’t been able to stop you, who knows what would’ve happened.”

she looks down at her tattoo and rubs the skin, “guys like him need to learn that they can’t get away with shit like that! and... and seeing him look so fucking proud of himself… looking at you like you were a piece of fucking meat.”

you observe her digging her nails into her tattoo and realize where her mind is drifting off to. you stop walking and grab her face, speaking softly. “look at me. I’m safe and you’re safe. I understand that you wanna protect me, but you can’t lose it like that, okay? you need to learn to walk away unless it’s absolutely necessary. I don’t want you getting into trouble.”

she looks between your eyes and nods, grabbing gently onto one of your wrists. “okay. I’m sorry,” she whispers.

“It’s over now. everything’s okay.” you nod at her slowly and lean in to peck her lips. “c’mon, let’s go back to your place so I can clean you up.”

“you don’t have to-“ you cut her off with a semi-serious glare and she nods.

on the drive home, she rubs your thigh softly and takes small glances at you. she chews on her bottom lip anxiously, thinking about how you’re able to ground her. her chest tightens with shame— you shouldn’t have to deal with her issues.

ellie stands between your legs as you sit on top of the sink, cleaning her knuckles gently with deep concentration. she watches you and thinks about how she’s falling for you, hard. she’s never felt this way about someone before and she’d be lying if she said it didn’t scare her a little. her thoughts are interrupted as you finish and kiss the inside of her wrist. she gives you a soft smile when you look up at her and leans in to kiss you, “thanks, babe.”

ellie plucks away at her guitar as she smokes a joint while you lay there sipping on water and watch her in comfortable silence. unbeknownst to you, her mind races, picturing the look on your face after she basically bashed that guys face in.

she doesn’t think she deserves someone good and sweet like you. the idea of letting you go fucking crushes her, but it’s better to let you decide if you wanna end things now before the two of you get more serious, as if you’re both not in deep already.

she takes a hit of her joint and places her guitar to the side, laying a shaky palm on your thigh. “hey... I’m sorry about earlier.” you shake your head, “it’s okay, I promise. I’m not upset anymore.”

she looks down for a moment before looking back at you, “it’s just... you don’t deserve to have to deal with my bullshit. I understand if you don’t wanna… do this anymore.” she gestures between the two of you and fidgets nervously with her fingers.

you sit up quickly and grab her hand, stroking her knuckles. “is that what you want?” she looks at your teary eyes and shakes her head immediately. “no, no, it’s not what I want. but I want you to do what’s best for you.”

“ellie, I really like you. I’m not afraid of baggage, you don’t have to push me away.”

she looks at you, unconvinced. “I’m a fucking mess, ___. I don’t know if you’ve picked up on it yet, but I’m not the easiest person to be around sometimes.”

“and you know what’s best for me?”

“no, I’m not saying that. I just-” she throws her hands up, trying to figure out how to convey what she’s feeling.

“you’re not some broken, cold hearted person, ellie. I can decide for myself what’s good for me. you’re good for me.”

“I don’t wanna hurt you,” she whispers, eyes tearing up.

you inch closer to her on your hands and knees and give her a soft, lingering kiss.

“then, don’t.” you whisper against her lips and pull back.

she looks back at you in silence for a few moments in a daze, completely enamored with you.

you give her a teary smile and let your words settle in for her, “plus, it’s kinda hot seeing you like that. you still haven’t taught me more self defense moves like you said you would, you know.” you laugh trying to make her feel better. she lets out a weak chuckle and shakes her head.

“no, but seriously,” you place your palm on her cheek to keep eye contact, making sure she takes in your sincerity, “I lo- like you.. a lot and I wanna be with you, okay? we all have our issues. you’ll have to stick around if you wanna see mine,” you smile. ellie’s ears perk up, wondering if she was just imagining that you almost said you love her. she chuckles and nods, “okay,” she whispers, “so does this mean you wanna be my girlfriend then?”

you look at her in mock offense, “is that how you’re gonna ask me?”

she laughs, “okay, okay.” she clears her throat and straightens out her back. “___, would you like to be my girlfriend?”

you can’t help but laugh at her attempt to be serious. “yeah, I’ll be your girl.”

she gives you a wide grin and cups your face, giving you a passionate kiss.

you both pull away breathless. “you know.. I think we should consummate this relationship.”

she laughs and raises an eyebrow, “oh yeah? and how’s that?”

“well.. for one, I didn’t get to do what I wanted to earlier.”

“mhmm, you are right about that. go ahead baby.”

as ellie lays on her back, you kiss along her stomach down her v-line to her inner thighs, each kiss making her muscles tense up.

“c’mon, enough teasing.” she huffs, breath heavy with glossy eyes.

you shake your head in defiance and she grabs onto your jaw. “be good.” she says sternly, but strokes your cheek gently with her thumb.

she watches you lick a stripe up her wet folds and her eyes roll back, letting out a shaky breath.

“s-stick your tongue out, baby.”

you flatten your tongue and she takes a fistful of your hair, slowly bucking her hips against your face. “jesus.. fuck. love your fucking mouth so much.”

looking up at her with doe eyes, you moan, and she grunts, “s-so perfect for me. making me feel so good, baby.”

you bob your head up and down with her thrusts, and suck hard on her clit, making her whimper unwillingly. “oh fuuuuck. good fucking girl, don’t stop.”

she grips your hair tighter and grinds faster against your face, head falling back into the pillows and swallowing hard. “gonna cum.. fuck!”

finally her body seizes up, her hole clenching around your tongue as her arousal seeps into your mouth. “holy fuck.” she breathes out shakily. “fuckin-“ she grunts, “swallow all of it.” she holds your head in place, rocking slowly as you happily lap up every inch of her cum. “yeah.. good girl.” you pull back and brush your fingers over her thighs with a love drunk smile.

she pants and looks down at you with furrowed brows, swiping her thumb across your glossy lips, spreading around her slick and your saliva before sticking her thumb into your mouth. you suck on it and she closes her eyes, sighing.

you climb on top of her, kissing her deeply, both of you moaning into the kiss. “wait,” she pulls back.

“what?” you whine at the loss of her lips against yours.

she chuckles and sits up, opening her nightstand drawer and pulls out a box. “how would you feel if I used this on you?”

you examine the unopened box and your eyes widen when you see what’s inside, making your thighs squeeze together. “yeah-yes.” you stutter.

she laughs and traps you with her legs to flip you on your back, “yes, what?”

you yelp and giggle, “you can use it on me.” she grins and leans in to kiss you.

after ellie coaxes multiple orgasms out of you with her mouth and fingers, she gets up to grab the strap, adjusting the harness around her. “okay, you sure you want it?”

you swallow hard in nervousness and excitement. “y-yeah I want it. just go slow.”

she leans down and gives you a soft kiss. “of course, baby.”

ellie lubes up the dildo and strokes the shaft before settling between your shaky legs, giving them small kisses. “you nervous?” you nod, “mhm, a little.”

she caresses your thighs and gives them gentle squeezes, “it’s okay, I’ll be gentle and if you want me to stop just tell me, okay?” you nod, “okay.”

as she slides the strap up and down your folds, you let out a whimper and spread your legs further apart. she has to bite down hard on her lip to hold back a moan.

“you ready?”

“yeah,” your breath gets heavier in anticipation.

she slowly inches her way in while rubbing small circles on your clit, eyes focused on your face. when your eyes start to tear up, she leans down and peppers soft kisses all over your face. “you’re doing so good for me, baby.”

as she bottoms out, you both moan in unison. “you okay?”

“y-yes, you can move.”

ellie starts out with a slow pace, rolling her hips into you, gradually going deeper and harder with each thrust. she feels her own arousal pooling as she watches your face twist in pleasure and the view of your cunt sucking her in.

“fuck, ellie, g-go faster please,” you moan out. ellie smirks at your words, "my pleasure, sweet girl."

she wraps your legs around her waist and starts to increase the pace and vigor of her thrusts, pounding into you hard and fast. you can feel every inch of her as she slides in and out of you, filling you up with such intensity that has you moaning uncontrollably. she groans “you look so fucking good like this,” leaning down to kiss you messily, panting into each other mouths.

she watches you with heavy lids, drunk off of the sounds of your moans and the wet sounds of your cunt. “feels good, pretty girl?”

“mmph. so good, ellie. so good.”

as she starts to increase her pace even more, you grip onto her shoulders tightly, pulling her chest to yours, sinking your nails into her skin.

“taking me s-so fucking well baby, knew you could do it.” she feels herself getting lost in her own pleasure as the base of the strap bumps against her clit just right.

your body starts to tremble against hers, with ellie having to work harder to thrust in and out of you, your moans turning into high-pitched whimpers, and she knows you’re close.

“el-ellie! fuck, I’m gonna-” she holds onto you tightly and watches you as you slip into ecstasy, and can’t help but moan herself. she thinks you’re absolutely breathtaking like this. and that view alone is enough to make her eyes roll back, triggering her own orgasm. her hips sputter as she slaps into you, leaning down to kiss you sloppily.

she lifts her head and lets out ragged breaths, her eyes glazed over, “you did so good for me, baby.” she kisses your forehead gently.

leaning on her elbows, she stares down at you, eyes mapping out every inch of your face, completely infatuated.

“I lo-“ she stops herself, it’s too early to say I love you. or is it? you’ve known each other for years, and she could’ve sworn you almost said it earlier. she decides against it, not wanting to ruin the moment.

you run your hand through her hair and brush your nose against hers, “say it,” you whisper. she looks between your eyes and swallows thickly.

“I love you,” she whispers shakily.

you lift your head, slotting your lips against hers in a slow, passionate kiss.

“I love you, too.”

tysm for reading ily all 💗💗

taglist: @me-and-your-husband @fireflyels @cinnamonmilf

[seeingivy]

my love, mine all mine

actor!eren x f!reader

**part of my method acting series

content: HEAVVVYYYYY ANGST. does contain one part where a man is being icky/hitting on a girl in a gross way. viewer discretion advised. protect your peace.

an: ok yall. chapter is named after a mitski song we know it's not good. don't hang me at the stake now.

songs mentioned: my love, mine all mine by mitski

previous part linked here

--

“This is disgusting.” you mutter, as Armin leans over and takes a picture from what might literally be the worst angle ever. 

Connie Springer, human menace, has been sleeping on your shoulder for a majority of the flight to Seattle. And drooling on your hair in the process. You make a mental note to kick his ass when he wakes up for being responsible for the globbed up hair you'll have when you see Eren again. 

“He’s been sleeping for almost the entire flight. And he slept all day before the engagement too.” Armin murmurs, flicking the picture in between his fingers as he waits for it to develop. 

“Typical.” you respond, readjusting so his head falls on your shoulder more comfortably. 

You lean your head against his as he continues to snore against your shoulder, the desperation, the anticipation of what you’re going to do sitting heavy in your head. You’ve run through it a hundred times, the words stringing together in your head. 

You’re staying with Eren for the weekend. His birthday falls at the end, but he’s too busy to see you guys, so you’ll take him out the day after. 

After making ten very aggressive phone calls to the Seattle Aquarium and throwing a nice amount of money their way, they agreed to close off the aquarium for the weekend, so that you and Eren could have it all to yourself. 

So that you could drag him there after he was finished on set and lie down flat on the cold floors to just watch the fish swim above you. So no one else is there when you tell Eren that you still love him, so you’re both surrounded in your own little fishbowl. So that he understands you never did stop loving him. That you won’t ever. 

You pause. The guilt sits deep in your stomach, eats at the smallest parts of your conscience and corrupts it. The desperation, the anticipation - it sits heavy in your mind. But the doubt, the guilt, and the anxiety does too. 

You either get to have Eren forever or you lose him for good. Because Eren is dating another girl and it comes down to something really simple. 

If he likes her more or you. 

“You okay?” 

You look over at Armin and his perceptive blue eyes are peering into yours, his forehead scrunched up near his hairline. 

“I-I have a dilemma, Armin.” 

“Do tell.” he responds, propping his elbow against the armrest and leaning his cheek on his hand. 

“I….I want to do something. But it could hurt someone.” 

He frowns, squinting his eyes at you in confusion. 

“I feel a certain type of way. And I want to tell someone. But being honest means I could hurt someone else. Sh-should I still do it?” you ask, cracking your knuckles between your fingers. 

“Will it hurt you if you won’t say it?” Armin asks. 

Yes. 

It’ll hurt you if Eren goes on thinking that you don’t love him the way you do. That walking away from him wasn’t the biggest mistake of your life. That him pulling away kills you, because all you want to do is keep him close. 

You can’t keep it all in, regardless of what the outcome will be. And for all it’s worth, you have the feeling that when you’ll see him, it’ll get the better of you, that it’ll be a matter of when you tell him, not if. 

“Yes. I-I don’t think I can keep it in Armin. I’ve been sitting on it for a while.” 

He brings his hand down on yours and squeezes. And then his blue eyes are shimmering, in the pale fluorescents of the plane lights, and you can’t help but smile back. It’s surging through you - the want, the need, the love you hold for him. 

And there’s only three more hours till you’re there. 

“I can’t believe you’re finally telling Eren you still love him.” he asks, so nonchalantly as he slides the picture of you and Connie, fully developed, into his wallet as he turns back to you.

“Am-am I that obvious?” 

“I mean. You feel a type of certain way? We’re going to see Eren? It wasn’t that hard to piece together.” 

“No. You’re just perceptive.” 

Armin brings his hand down on yours again, squeezing hard, as he smiles at you - so bright and cheery that it makes you excited. 

“God, ‘Min. Why are you so excited? You’re kind of supporting me being a homewrecker right now.” 

“I-I don’t know. Hyla, I’m sure she’s great and all, but I just don’t think she fares up well to what Eren needs. Not like you do.” 

You can feel your cheeks burning at his admission, the compliment and the implication solidifying in your mind. That Armin, Eren’s best friend, thinks it should be you. That you’re good for him. He’s quiet for a few minutes, sliding through the pictures of Jean and Mikasa - the one’s she posted of Jean and her hugging on the ground, minutes after he proposed. Equipped with a caption, that brings you to tears. 

the one place i’ll always find myself returning. jeanboy, it’s you and me always. 

“What do you think love is, Y/N?” 

“That’s such a loaded question to ask me on a dingy ass flight to Seattle, Armin.” you deadpan. 

“No, no. Just think. What is it?” 

You rack your brain, long and hard. And they all come to mind - your parents, Falco and Colt, Eren, Jean and Mikasa, Levi and Hange. 

Levi and Hange. The love letters Levi wrote to Hange, that he gave you when you wrote invisible string for the vow renewal. Maybe the first time you figured out what love might mean. That it was sharing every little part of yourself and every feeling you’ve had - ecstatic, overwhelmed, happy, sad, bored, and soft. 

“Knowing each other. Love is knowing each other, Armin. And-he’s pulling away. I-I don’t want him to leave because there’s still so much more of him I-I don’t know yet. I could have a lifetime and it still wouldn’t be enough.” you murmur. 

He smiles, leaning his head against yours, as he talks again, his soft voice murmuring into your hair. 

“Eren’s known one thing since he met you. And it’s that he wants you around, wants to know more of you, that you’re the best person he’s met. He picked you to be his co-star, called you almost everyday he wasn’t with you, ran into my room and talked to me what it was like to kiss you after you guys wrote New Year’s day, you’re just it for-” 

“Wait, what? He did what?” 

“Huh? What part?” 

“The New Year’s Day thing. You-you knew that we kissed?” 

“Yeah. He told me and Marco, like fully woke us up. Said that you guys were practicing the kiss after you wrote the song and that we both needed to kiss someone immediately so we could understand how he felt.” 

You snort. 

“I don’t remember it being that way. I like totally froze up when he kissed me the first time. We-we had to do it a few times to get it right.” 

“Well, it’s always been you for Eren. I bet you could aim wrong and he’d still come and talk about how kissing you is divine.” 

“Divine?” 

He freezes up, eyes wide, as he realizes his choice of words. 

“Armin. Did Eren say kissing me was divine?” 

“No. No- we don’t talk about that stuff. It’s- long story, you-you don’t want to know.” 

“No. No, now you have to tell me. We’ve known each other forever, it’s-it’s not weird. Quit being all shy.” 

“Y/N.” 

“Armin! Please. We-I want to know. Please, I won’t tell him and I won’t think much of it.” 

“Okay, well. When I started dating Annie, you and Eren had already been together for like a year. And I wanted…to know how to…” 

“To?” 

“Have sex.” he murmurs. 

You bite down on your lip to avoid laughing and he turns his face, cheeks glowing pink, as he whispers profanities at you. 

“You’re so rude. I’m not talking about this.” 

“No, no! Armin, you’re just so cute.” 

“Quit calling me cute.” 

“Sorry! It’s just. You and Eren are so sweet, you’re like brothers. Giggling like little high schoolers about sex.” 

“We were highschoolers. And you’re acting like you and Mikasa are any different.” 

“Yeah! But you guys know we do that, I just never thought you and Eren talked about this stuff. So what did he say?” 

“No. This is breaking bro code. I’m not telling you.” 

“Armin! Please! You brought it up now it’s going to bother me forever. And-and you and me. We’re cool like that. We can talk about sex because we’re two grown adults.” 

“Y/N.” he responds, in a warning tone. 

“Pretty please! I’ve always wondered what Eren thinks about me because he-he’s so reserved and-and it’ll help me. When I tell him, to-to know how he felt about me. Help me not back out.” 

“You’re annoying. You-you can’t just use that against me to get me to tell you.” 

“Fine. You’re right. I’m sorry.” 

He groans, leaning his head against the chair, and clenches his jaw. And then Armin’s turning his head, voice all quiet as he whispers. 

“You tell another soul and I will kill you.” 

“Okay, okay. I promise ‘Min.” 

“I-I asked him about it. Because Annie and I were going to….I wanted to make it special. And-and I’m not the type to really, really take initiative when Annie does it first but I-I wanted to.” 

“Uh huh.” 

“And then I asked him, like. What it’s supposed to feel like. Having sex for the first time. Because, I mean. Isn’t it awkward? And I had heard it hurts for the girl so-” 

“I’m trying not to like bite down on my own hand right now. You’re like a little angel.” you coo. 

“Shut up. Anyways, Eren said that the first time he-he felt bad. Because it did hurt you and that he just held you after till you felt better. But the second time, he said it was like nothing he ever felt before. That he understood why people do a bunch of stupid shit when they’re in love because it feels divine.” 

You swallow hard. 

“Armin. He-” 

“You’re it for him. I hope I got that through your head. Now just go tell him. And quit making me tell you secrets, you’re breaking every sacred code I have as a man right now.” 

“Okay, okay. Sorry, I didn’t mean to mess with your divine brotherhood.” 

He flicks the top of your head as you link your arm with his and squeeze hard. And flutter your eyes shut, with him on your mind. 

--

“Connie.” 

You reach forward and shake his shoulder, as aggressively as you can, in the back of the car. 

“Connie.” 

He’s slumped over against the window, fast asleep, despite the fact that he slept nearly the entire way here. 

“CONNIE.” 

“Huh?” 

His eyes flutter open, deeply filled with sleep as he registers where he is, holding his hand out to grab you. 

“Con. We’re here. And why the fuck are you so tired?” 

“Shhh.” he responds, pressing his finger to your lips as he tumbles out of the car, leaning the majority of his body weight on you as you both walk towards the house. 

Not Eren’s house, the one you stayed at when Ricky locked you out, but the townhouse on set since Connie needed to be back as soon as possible. You switch positions with Armin, him taking the responsibility of lugging Connie, as you both walk up to the door. 

You nervously reach up to brush the tangles out of your hair and rub the tiredness out of your eyes as you knock on the door, putting on your best smile. 

Eren. 

Or not. The door swings open and a short girl answers, a bored look on her face and a martini glass secured in her hand. Despite the cold weather, she’s dressed up in a mini skirt and her hair is all clipped up in rollers - clearly from a makeup team by the way they’re placed. 

“Can I help you?” 

“Um. I’m Y/N.” 

“Okay?”

“I mean. We’re here to bring Connie back. He-he’s supposed to start filming again today. And we’re visiting for Eren’s birthday.” 

“Oh. Okay fine.” 

She swings the door open as you and Armin hold Connie upright, loose greetings falling out of his mouth as he waves at the twenty people that are in the room, their names falling out of his mouth. They’re all lounging around on the sofas and in the kitchen, heads pushed together in their own conversations or on their phones. 

“Connie. We-where are you supposed to go?” 

“Uh. Right. We-we can just go to my room.” 

He drags you and Armin up the stairs, even more people crowding the area, as you shuffle past and make your way up. Connie shoves you both into his room, the two of you falling on his sofa, as you watch him shut himself in the bathroom immediately. 

“Should we try to find Eren maybe? I think Connie’s like sick or something.” you whisper. 

“Yeah. But it might take a while, there’s like sixty people in here.” 

“I don’t understand how anyone lives here. Lana and Eren staying in a house off set makes way more sense now.” you respond, as Armin pulls you up and you drag yourself through the halls. 

You both amble down, observing the mess all around, as you read the names on the doors. You’re both holding hands, hard, so you don’t lose each other in the bustle of people and the sweat hanging in the air. And nearly six paces down, you find the door with Eren’s name scribbled across the door. Armin lightly knocks as you both peek your heads in, to find Hyla - fast asleep in his bed.

You swallow hard, pushing hard on Armin’s hand, as you both quietly shut the door behind you and walk back down the hallway. 

She’s sleeping in his bed. 

“Let’s just see if anyone knows where he is, yeah?” 

You nod and both push down the hallway again to the crowded room you entered in, nervously watching the swarm of people in front of you and nitpicking on which one to ask. Despite the chill in the Seattle air outside, the inside here is sweltering - the mix of people certainly being a fire hazard and responsible for the itching warmth in the room. 

One of the girls, lazily leaning over the counter, beckons for the two of you to join her, which you awkwardly accept. 

“Who are you guys?” 

“I’m Armin. And this is Y/N. We’re friends of Eren’s, we were looking for him. Is he around?” 

“Ah. Eren and Lana are probably busy with the Bear.” she says, turning her shoulder and snickering with the people around them. 

The bear?

“Well. We’re going to his birthday dinner tonight. You guys can see him then, the bus leaves at like six.” she mutters, shuffling off to the other side of the house and walking away. 

“Okay. Thanks.” you respond, awkwardly rubbing your hands against your arms and turning to Armin. 

Right on cue, loud music starts blaring overhead and you and Armin instinctively reach to cover your ears, Armin signaling that the two of you should just go outside. You both leave the sticky, hot room and walk out, kicking the rocks as the music blares on inside. 

“God. Levi would have an aneurysm if we ever did something like that to the townhouse.” you mutter. 

“I think I had an aneurysm standing in there.” 

“What should we do?” 

“It’s only four thirty. Let’s just…walk and get coffee. It’ll be six by the time that we’re back and we can meet him at dinner.” 

“Okay. Sure.” 

--

Two hours later and you’re seated at the most awkward table, in the history of awkward tables. Maybe even more awkward than the thought of the Thirteenth Disciple of Jesus, Ryomen Sukuna, being at the Last Supper. 

You and Armin are across from the two empty seats - because Lana and Eren are late. Armin’s stuck next to a weirdly rowdy crowd of people, with Connie at the center, who suddenly has a random burst of energy and has been screaming for a better part of the last hour. And on your left, you’re stuck next to Hyla and Myka, who are way too inquisitive for your liking. 

“So like. Can I ask you a question?” Myka asks, leaning into your space. 

You shake the glass of water in your hands, perspiration leaking down your elbow, as you give her a nod. You nervously twiddle with the straw in your mouth, biting it into oblivion as she starts talking. 

“So. I listened to dorothea. And then I listened to lacy. And I was just wondering what happened between you and Historia? Because your song was really sweet but she makes you look like a bitch.” 

You swallow hard. 

“Ah. I don’t know, we used to be really close when we were younger and filming Attack on Titan together and stuff. I think we just grew apart. And-you know. Songs are more about their meanings, I-I don’t think lacy is about me and dorothea isn’t necessarily about her.” 

“Okay but like. What actually happened? Don’t like beat around the bush.” Hyla states, her tone biting as she swirls her own straw through her glass. 

It’s the first time you’ve ever heard her talk, with your own ears. Seen her with your own eyes and interacted with her in the flesh. 

She’s scary. Freakishly high cheekbones, slicked back hair, and siren like eyes that pull back to her hairline. A pointed nose, a sharp jaw - and unlike Lana, there are no soft features, no soft expressions to offset the harshness on her face. 

“She obviously doesn’t like you. And honestly, it’s fucked that she projects onto you so hard. If she wants to be successful, she should just work harder.” Myka states. 

“Historia’s busy, Myka. Got other things on her mind.” she states, making a snipping motion with her fingers. 

“Sorry, what?” you ask. 

“Oh, you know. Scissoring. Because she’s gay.” Hyla states, the ice in her glass clinking against the straw. 

You freeze. And swallow hard to think hard on what to say next. 

A topic that you don’t personally broach, and never have, but one people can’t seem to stop talking about. 

Maybe you’ve had your suspicions. And you push them down and let Historia be. The longing glances at Ymir when she was putting on her harnesses, the way they were attached at the hip - entirely different than the way you and Mikasa were and more like how you and Eren were. 

People suspected. It was a hot topic of conversation, especially after Lacy dropped and the people thought the lyrics were…homoerotic. People were stuck trying to figure out if Historia wanted to be you or date you. 

You don’t comment on that. She’s entitled to whatever she is and trying to figure it out for her does her no service. 

“So what are you going to order?” Myka asks, leaning over to look at the menu. 

“Probably the spicy brisket ramen?” 

“Ugh. Ramen has so much sodium. That’s how you get fat arms.” she mutters, flipping her eyes through her own menu. 

You swallow hard as you shove your face into your own menu this time, probably drawing blood on Armin’s ankle by the way you’re jamming your leg on his foot. He lifts his own menu as well, the two of you whispering behind them. 

“This is what my worst nightmares look like.” you whisper. 

“If he doesn’t show up in five minutes, we’re leaving.” Armin responds, giving you a nod. 

You both drop your menus to find Hyla staring at you two weird, which you two return with less than peachy smiles and lift your glasses to drink together. And right on cue, Eren and Lana are speed walking to the table from the entrance of the restaurant, absorbed in their own conversation. 

Lana takes the seat across from Armin and Eren takes the one across from yours - Lana’s eyes bulging out of her head when she sees the two of you while Eren’s too absorbed in the conversation he’s having with Hyla. 

“Ok, I’m here. Quit whining.” he says, leaning his hand against the back of Hyla’s chair. 

“Only you would be late to your birthday dinner, Eren.” she responds, giving him a smile as she leans forward to kiss his cheek. 

“My birthday is tomorrow, so technically, I’m early.” he responds. 

Lana elbows Eren in the side, which he rolls his eyes at before turning his head back to Hyla, who's pointing at the menu. 

“Eren.” Lana repeats.

“Huh? What?” 

He lifts Lana’s drink on instinct and takes a sip, putting it down as he glares at her. 

“It’s non-alcoholic. Calm down, Lana.” 

“No. Eren.” she responds, grating her teeth as she gestures her eyes over to you. 

And then Eren looks over, his eyes bulging out of his head this time when he sees you. Except his shock goes farther than Lana’s because when he moves his hand off Hyla’s shoulder, he accidentally knocks his glass across the table, the cold liquid drenching the front of your shirt and your skirt. 

“Jesus, Eren. What the fuck is wrong with you?” Myka asks, snickering as she looks down at you. 

Armin’s quick to respond, yanking his jacket off and placing it on your lap, drying the wetness on your legs as Eren stares at the two of you and then immediately turns to look at Lana. 

“Y/N. Armin. What are you guys doing here?” he asks, jaw clenched against his skull. 

“They’re surprising you for your birthday. Such sweet childhood friends you have.” Hyla says, giving the two of you a sickly sweet smile. 

“Um. I-I’m going to go to the bathroom, my clothes are really wet.” you mutter, beckoning Armin to stay as you quickly speed walk to the bathroom with his jacket wrapped around you. 

The second you make it into the bathroom, you shut the closest stall shut and lock the door, hanging Armin’s mostly dry jacket on the ring as you survey the damage. Eren’s drink - bright blue in color - has left a big mark on the front of your white shirt, but is virtually invisible on the black pleats of your skirt. 

You instinctively grab for the tissues and wipe down the front of your shirt, which only makes the stain worse. And you don’t know why - why this entire thing is so humiliating, but you can feel tears burning in your eyes and your throat itching with insurmountable heat - as the stain doesn’t lessen, the blue splotch staying. 

The door swings open and you hear an immediate knock on your door, shiny black shoes visible from underneath the stall. 

“Hey Tinky-Winky. You okay?” Lana whispers, her voice soft as she leans her head against the door. 

“Y-yeah. Just, um. Trying to get the stain out, that’s all. I’ll just wear Armin’s jacket.” 

“Okay. I-I’m waiting for you out here when you’re done, okay?” 

You lift your head to the ceiling, hoping that it’ll push the flaming tears back into your eye sockets as you try to quiet your sniffles and shove Armin’s black denim jacket over your clothes. You open the door to find Lana, sweet Lana, leaning against the door with a smile on her face. 

She looks different. Her cheeks are fuller and rosy pink, her short hair growing out to her shoulders. And you don’t miss the soft bags around her eyes, the tiredness sitting in her frame. She opens up her arms, which you quickly sink into, her hands in your hair. 

“I missed you.” 

“Yeah. I missed you too, La-La.” 

She pulls back, her arms resting against your elbows as she talks. 

“What are you guys doing here?” 

“Surprising Eren for his birthday. We-we missed him.” 

She brings her hand to your cheek, cupping your face. 

“He misses you too. Lots.” she says, giving you a smile. 

You give her a smile back as you wrap your arms around her neck, breathing in her sweet flowery smell, as the door swings open again, only for Eren to be leaning against the door frame. You pull back and look at him - brown hair, green eyes, and no smile - staring back at you. 

“Y/N. You-you’re okay?” he asks, shutting the door behind him. 

“Yeah. Hi Eren. H-happy birthday.”

He breaks a smile - the first one you’ve seen today - and opens up his arms, wrapping them around your frame as he leans down, lips close to your ear. His right hand is firm on your back and the second one is cradling the back of your head, firm around your locks of hair. 

“It’s tomorrow.” 

“I know that, Eren.” 

“Okay, sweetheart. No need to show off.” 

At the sound of your nickname, you’re only wrapping your arms around his neck harder, standing on the tips of your toes, in any attempt to be closer to him. His smooth, laundry smell, his skin soft to the touch, and his hair perfectly tousled against your hands. 

“Y/N?” 

“Hm, Eren?” 

“As much as I like holding you, I am technically trespassing in a women’s restroom right now. I just wanted to see if you were okay.” 

You pull back, nervously reaching up to tuck your hair behind your ears as you nod, giving the two of them a look. 

“Okay so. I’ll go first. Lana, come out like five minutes after. Eren, give it like seven. Not ten, because the timing would be suspiciously perfect.” 

Eren squints his hand at you, his forearms clutched across his chest, as he glares. 

“Or we could all go back together.” 

“No. No, no. That’s weird. Just wait. I-I’ll see you two out there okay.” you respond, giving the two of them a smile and a thumbs up as you push out of the door. 

You nervously duck back to the table, buttoning Armin’s jacket up as you slide in next to him, squeezing his hand under the table when he gives you a questioning look. You shake your head as he gives you a nod, the two of you clear and focusing back on the dinner at hand. 

“Y/N. Are you hooking up with Sukuna? He’s hot.” Myka asks, leaning into your space. 

You spit your water back into your glass as you start choking on the parts that went down, Armin’s hand comforting on your back. 

“Um. No, never in a million years. We’re just friends.” you respond, giving them a smile. 

“The Promiscuous video was really hot. You’ve never looked better.” 

You turn your head to find the guy seated between Connie and Armin leaning over, holding his hand out to you as he talks. He has short black hair and cold, steely eyes. 

“Vinh.” 

You place your hand in his, thrown off by the clamminess, as he smiles continuing. 

“I mean. Some part of it has to be real right? That whole bit where Sukuna’s like on the floor crawling after you walk away, when he pretends to pass out when you blow him a kiss, and when you throw the water on him just to take his shirt off after...you can only fake chemistry like that to some extent.” 

“Ah. I’m an actress. That’s my entire job. And the song is called Promiscuous. We-we obviously leaned into a little bit. It doesn’t mean anything.” 

“That’s music to my ears then.” he says, smiling. 

You know that smile. It reminds you of Ricky. 

“Vinh, stop it. And Connie, you’ve had enough to fucking drink.” Eren says, glaring bullets at the two of them. 

“Eren. Shut the fuck up.” Connie responds, clearly irritated with Eren. The two of them hold their eye contact, for too long, as you look at Armin. 

“Connie. I will beat it out of you again if I have to.” Eren responds, which makes Connie drop his gaze. The group laughs as Eren scoffs, his knuckles white against his glass.

You’re thrown off by the sudden hostility, Eren’s demeanor entirely different from what he was in the bathroom. Granted, he was still a bit off-putting in there, but the fact that he’s…purposely picking a fight with Connie is entirely unlike him at all. 

Connie gets so irritated that he storms off, leaving the table all together, as everyone murmurs what a buzzkill he is.

Connie’s always been the life of the party. Even insinuating he’s a buzzkill is downright ironic. 

“So. How is filming for the movie going? Which one is this again?” 

“Don’t Worry Darling.” Hyla responds, swirling her fork around her plate. 

“I’m really excited to see it, you guys. I’m sure it’ll be great.” 

Hyla twists her straw in between her fingers as she looks in between Lana and then you. 

“Lana Banana.” 

Lana curls up her nose at the term, tilting her head over to look at her. 

“You’ve just been so busy lately. You’re not really looking fit for your part anymore. I think Y/N should take it. Don’t you think, Eren?” 

Eren swallows hard as he looks at you, eyes flitting between you and Lana, as he stays silent. And the beat goes on for too long and no one talks, so you bite the bullet and do it for them. 

“I uh. Don’t have time for that actually. Danny and Sareen lined up a four day only show in New York City for me the week of the Institute Awards. I’m supposed to close for that award show, so I-I’ll have a lot of rehearsals leading up to it.” you respond, dissolving the loaded question so Eren didn’t have to. 

“Well our next movie. You should definitely join, everyone here loves you. Vinh especially.” she says, smiling. 

“Oh! I-I’ll see about that.” 

“Don’t you think Y/N and Vinh would be cute together, Eren? She’s clearly into that whole bad boy thing since she liked Sukuna.” 

“Oh, I don’t-” 

And then Eren’s leaning into her space, lips a few feet away from hers, as he smiles and tucks her hair behind her ear. And then he presses a kiss to the top of her forehead, her cheeks turning bright pink. 

“Do you want to get out of here? Just you and me?” 

She gives him a giddy smile as she nods, putting her hand in his, as he drags her out, arm secured around her waist. He gives Lana a look over his shoulder as he leaves, which Lana ignores as she gives you and Armin bright smiles. 

--

You settle into the bed, Lana at your side, as you reach for your phone. 

you: everything good? 

armin: yeah. connie isn’t even here he like never came back. also his room smells like pop rocks LOL

you: so THIS is why he’s sleeping all the time. 

armin: everything good with you? 

you: yes. i’m sleeping with lana. 

armin: okay. sweet dreams. don’t think about stuff too hard. 

you: speaking of stuff, i don’t think i’m going to do it anymore, armin. 

you: i thought that eren and hyla would be more like…me and ricky. but he actually likes her i think. 

armin: yeah. i think so too, i’m sorry y/n. 

you: our time just passed i guess. better to keep him around as my friend than not at all, right? 

armin: it’ll pass, y/n. it-it goes away. talk to ymir. about hisu. she can help you better. 

You turn on your sheets to find Lana next to you, already sprawled over the majority of the bed, and dead asleep. Her expression looks so tired, her deep breaths indicating that she’s already fully out, despite it only being five minutes since you’ve been here. 

And she looks soft. Her jaw isn’t as sharp anymore, a little bit of fullness in her cheeks, but the same pointy nose. 

It’s pretty. She’s pretty. 

You bury your head into your own pillow as you flutter your eyes shut, trying to will away the image at dinner. Except you can feel it in your space, the thought of them together, like you’re being poked. 

“Y/N.” 

Poke. 

“Y/N. Wake up, sleepyhead.” 

You flutter your eyes open to find Eren, big green eyes staring at you, with his jacket pulled over his head as the source of the aforementioned poking. On instinct, you reach forward and make contact with his nose, which has him falling against the wall and groaning. The sound is so loud that you both look over at Lana, who is unbothered by the sound and still dead asleep. 

You jump up and cup Eren’s hands in your face, fingers soft and feeling for his nose in the dark. 

“Eren. What-what the fuck was that?” 

“You’re asking me that? You’re the one who just punched me in the nose!” he whispers. 

“Are you stupid? I’ve had like three different run-ins with people stalking my house. I-I learned self defense.” you whisper back. 

His face softens and he brings his hands up to where yours are - still resting on his face - as he removes them and drags you towards the door. There’s a jacket on the desk, which he’s holding open for you and gesturing for you to put on. 

“What are we doing?” 

“I-Armin told me you want to take me to the aquarium the day after my birthday. But. I-I can’t. I’m busy but I still want to spend time with you so, let’s go.” 

“Where? It-It’s like almost eleven. Aren’t you filming tomorrow?” 

“Please? It-it’s my birthday? One hour to my birthday?” 

You roll your eyes and nod which has Eren pulling the hood over your hair and carefully zipping the jacket up as he gives you a smile. The two of you tiptoeing through the townhouse as you sneak out. His hand is locked in yours, pulling you hard, as he pockets the keys to one of the cars and drives you out. 

He’s driving along the roads, nearly empty, as the moon shines light on the puddles in the road. The car comes to an abrupt stop at a small house and when you get out, the breeze and the smell of salty air envelopes your nose as you march up together. 

“You have a beach house?” 

“Not mine. It’s a friend’s.” 

You nod as the rocks crunch underneath your feet and Eren pockets his keys, shoving the brass into the door and dragging you in. The lights are open and there’s a decent amount of giggling getting louder as he pushes you through the house, a confused look on his face. 

“Why are you guys still awake?” 

You turn your head to find two people - a guy who can’t be much older than you holding a little boy - frosting cookies over a granite countertop. 

“Eren!” the kid says, shaking his arms and leg in his hold until he’s dropped.

The boy runs over to Eren, wrapping his arms around his legs as he excitedly laughs, the sound so loud it pierces your ears. In a good way. 

“Teddy. Why aren’t you sleeping, little man?” Eren asks, crouching down to pinch at his cheeks. 

The other man, from before, takes your side as he responds to him, giving Eren a knowing look. 

“Nightmare, Eren. I’m Landon, it’s nice to meet you.” 

“Y/N.” 

“Ah. The infamous Y/N. It’s very nice to meet you.” he responds, smiling as he holds his hand out for you. 

“Are you here to play with me, Eren?” Teddy asks, jumping up and down against Eren’s legs. 

“Not exactly. But I do have a friend I want you to meet.” 

Eren looks up, a smile on his face, as he gestures for you to crouch down next to him, Teddy standing in front of the two of you. 

“Teddy. This is my pretty friend, Y/N. Can you say hi?” he says, emphasizing each word slowly. 

Teddy gets embarrassed when you smile at him and immediately buries his face into Eren’s shirt, the back of his neck entirely red as he nervously shakes his head against Eren. 

“Teddy. Just say hi, she’s really nice.” his voice soft, coaxing Teddy to say hi again. 

You smile as he turns his head, brown eyes peering into yours, as he awkwardly shuffles in Eren’s arms, his hands knotted together behind his back.

“Hi! I’m Y/N. It’s very nice to meet you.” you say, flickering your eyes quickly up to Eren who's beaming at you as he waits for Teddy’s response. 

“I’m Theodore.” he responds. 

“Theodore? Since when do you go by Theodore, little man? Trying to impress someone?” Eren asks, reaching forward to pinch his pink cheeks and lift him in the air, which has him giggling like no other. 

You laugh as the two of them keep laughing together, leaning against the countertop where Landon’s leaning, the half frosted cookies in his hands. 

“So how do you know Eren?” you ask. 

“We have a mutual friend. And he keeps coming around, to play with the kid. Uninvited, mind you.” 

“We’re sorry to intrude. Though, he dragged me here and I had no idea. So it’s his fault.” 

“Sounds like him.” he says, dusting off his hands as he walks over to Eren, scooping Teddy out of his arms. 

“Okay, Teddy. Say bye to Eren and Y/N now. It’s bedtime.” 

You walk up to Eren, who’s hunching down so your faces are close to each other as you both wave bye, the silence filling up the room as you step back and away from Eren. He gives you a soft smile as he places his hands flat on your back and pushes you through the open door, the sand and ocean glimmering under the light of the full moon. 

Eren swipes a guitar case and a blanket off the patio as you both discard your shoes and pad into the sand, a few feet away from where the waves are crashing. Eren hands you the case as he places the blanket flat onto the sand and lies down on it, tapping the spot next to him and beckoning you to join him. 

You cross your legs and sit instead of lying down, his head a few feet away from your knees. His green eyes focused on the moon, shining above, bathing you in the pale light. You open up the case, a beautiful acoustic guitar lying in the case and start strumming aimlessly against the strings, not missing the way Eren smiles at the tune and closes his eyes. 

“Can you sing me something?” he asks. 

“What do you want to hear, almost birthday boy?” 

“Invisible string.” he responds. 

You smile as you switch the chords, fingers strumming against the strings as you quietly sing, watching Eren’s closed eyes and his soft smile. His dimples on display, the freckles underneath his eyes, his soft, soft hair. 

It’s only then that it stings. That you hold all this love, all this big, real love for Eren. That at one point, you felt it together at the same time but that he’s moved long past that. 

As you finish, Eren’s shooting up, swinging the strap of the guitar off of your neck and slipping it around his own. He’s tapping the ground in front of him, beckoning for you to lie down in front of him now, his fingers soft on the guitar. 

“What song is it?” you ask, head turned to the side away from him and focused on the crashing of the waves, how they roll perfectly, rise and fall to crash against the sand. 

“New one.” 

“Hm. What’s it about?” 

“Marco. He-he gave me this Maya Angelou poetry book on my birthday a few years ago, the birthday where you gifted me the vinyl. There was a quote in it that just made me think.” 

“What was the quote?” 

“Just like the moons and the suns, with the certainty of the tides, just like hope springing high, still I’ll rise.” 

The wave rises. And it crashes. Again and again. 

“Sing, Eren. I want to hear it.” 

Moon, tell me if I could Send up my heart to you? So, when I die, which I must do Could it shine down here with you? 'Cause my love is mine, all mine I love, my, my, mine Nothing in the world belongs to me But my love, mine, all mine, all mine 

You shuffle away from the tides to look at him, his eyes focused on the strings and his fingers plucking so softly. Eyes focused on his lips. The lips, that could end you here and now. 

“The moon is blushing up there, Eren. You’re writing love songs about it.” 

“The moon is my muse. I can only write songs about her.” he whispers, his hands making their way to your hair, to tuck your flyaways behind your ear. 

You feel your cheeks burning, the image of Eren - seventeen and whispering in your ear about how you’re his moon, how you have a pull on him - on the forefront of your brain. 

“Y/N. You-you don’t remember what it means?” 

“Huh? What are you talking about?” 

“This.” he responds, his fingers switching to the other side and tucking your stray hairs behind your ears. 

You feel your ears burning, when you remember. The secret signals that you and Eren came up with. And the tucking the hair behind the ears, it’s- it means he wants to kiss you. You shoot up and Eren swings the guitar off, knees hiked to his chest as his green eyes look at you, expectantly. 

“You-you can’t, Eren.” you whisper, the thought of dinner still in your mind. 

“Why not? Do you not want to?” he asks, whispering back. 

“That’s not fair to her. You can’t.” 

“You-you heard me right? Nothing in the world belongs to me, except my love. And-and you're the only thing that's really mine. You-you still do, right? Belong to me?” he asks, his voice wavering. 

“Eren.” 

“Please. Please, I don’t want to beg. Don't make me. Do you still belong to me?” 

He brings his hand up to your face, warm against your cheek, which is ice cold from the biting wind, and you lean into it. The warmth, in his hand, his eyes, his honey sweet voice. 

“Yes. Yes, I do.” you whisper. 

“Y/N. You- don’t get confused. You know what this means right? Us?” 

You give him your best smile and nod, your fingers tingling. It means he still loves you too. 

He leans forward, eyes closed as he kisses you, warm and soft. The sensation tingles all the way down to your stomach, makes your cheeks burn, and your brain prickle. And you relax, the familiarity of this, so delicate, so unchanged from the time he kissed you last that you can’t help but smile into his lips. 

You lean against his shoulder and look up, at the moon above you two, his arms wrapped around you. 

“Moon looks pretty tonight, doesn’t it?” you ask. 

“Always has.” he responds, his lips soft in your hair as the warm tears fill your eyes. 

“Happy birthday, Eren.” you whisper, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. 

“Thank you, my moon.” he responds. 

And you stay there, to watch the sun rise. On the two of you, together, for the last time. 

--

Eren tucks you back into bed with Lana as the sun peaks up, though it’s a battle in itself. Because Lana’s all starfish on the bed, her limbs tangled over every open space on the bed. But Eren’s rude and he’s just flopping her around, until he makes space, pressing a kiss to your forehead before leaving. 

And hours later, the sun is sinking down, with Lana nowhere to be found and Armin reading at the couch to the side.  

“Hey.” 

“Jesus. It’s almost sunset, you’ve been sleeping all day. Whatever Connie has is rubbing off on you.” he mutters, reaching over to hand you a water bottle.

“Sorry. I slept late because-” 

Because of Eren. 

You jump up and take the seat next to Armin, excitedly telling him everything that happened last night. And he’s smiling so bright, blue eyes glimmering that you’re both excitedly hugging each other and squeezing hard. 

“Well. He’s been out all day, but he should be back tonight. Let’s go to dinner before we leave,  yeah?” 

You nod, jumping up to the bathroom to get ready, the smile on your face aching your cheeks as you reach for the toothpaste. You peek your head out the door at Armin. 

“‘Min.” 

“Hm?” 

“Do you have toothpaste? 

“There’s some in Connie’s room. Just go grab it.” 

You take your toothbrush and bustle through the hallway, past the crowds of people walking through. You’re lucky you never have to mourn the frat house experience. You’re fairly certain you’re living it right now.

You swing into his room, the smell of candy overwhelming, as you push forward and open the door. Only to find Connie, leaned over the counter, fixing up three lines of white powder with a credit card. 

“Connie. What are you doing?” you ask, your throat burning in your neck. 

He turns his head and his eyes nearly boggle out of his head as he quickly swipes the powder into the sink and the excess on his hands against his pants. He’s smiling, too big, too synthetic as he grabs your hands. 

“Y/N! Nothing! You- it was a joke. It’s not what it looks like, I swear.” 

You swallow hard as he presses you into a hug and the dots connect, your eyes burning. 

Connie’s doing drugs. It’s-it’s why he sleeps all the time and then suddenly has intense energy out of nowhere, why his nose is red, why Eren told him to stop drinking. 

Eren’s words from dinner ring in your head, of how he said he beat it out of Connie, and sit in a bad way. 

Eren beat Connie up for doing this?

You pull back and press your hands to Connie’s face, to take him in. His skin is burning hot to the touch and there are beads of sweat matting his forehead, his entire demeanor so anxious, so jittery and nervous that it sets you off. And all you can think of is sweet Connie, so excited and energetic doing this in his free time that it makes you eyes burn. 

“Connie. Are-are you okay? Why are you doing this?” 

He freezes. And at your words, his entire demeanor changes and suddenly he’s on the floor softly crying, his head in his hands. You join him on the floor and put your hand on his shoulder. 

“Connie. What’s wrong?” 

“I-I just wanted to be the best, Y/N. I wanted to be the lead for once, I-” 

“Connie. You, you’re-” 

“Do you know how fucking tired I am of all of this? I-I can’t do this anymore. You- I’m done. I have to quit, I have to-” he says, shaking in your arms as you wrap your arms around him, tears streaming down your eyes. 

“He couldn’t even let me have this one thing, Y/N. Eren just had to be the best.” he spits out, his chest heaving up and down as he mutters out more words, a long list of profanities directed towards Eren. 

“Connie. You- we can go. Armin and I are leaving in a few hours, you-you should come with us. We-we want to help you.” 

“You don’t get it, Y/N. Wherever I go, this thing follows me. That people know my fucking name when I walk down the street, when I go to the beach, when I’m at the doctor. We’re never getting fucking out of this. This is our life now.” he responds, cheeks straight on your face. 

You reach for your phone on the counter as it buzzes, Armin’s name flashing across the screen. Connie’s still lying down flat on the floor, his tears falling straight onto the floor. 

“Y/N.” 

“Armin.” 

“Are you crying? I-I’m sure it’s a misunderstanding, let’s just go-” 

“It’s Connie. Can you come here? It’s- he’s not okay.” 

“Okay, okay. I’m running.” 

And a few seconds later, Armin’s pushing into the bathroom and his eyes are boggling at the sight of the two of you and his face falls when you explain. And then your phone starts buzzing on the counter, the notifications constant. You lift it and scroll, eyes flitting through the letters. 

mikasa: don’t panic. we’ll figure out a response, okay? 

jean: call us as soon as possible okay? ill kill him next time i see him

nobara: i’ll fly out to see you. are you still in new york?

levi: Call me when you get a chance. Hope you’re okay. Hange is going to talk to him. 

sukuna: On your side. Whatever you do. 

“Y/N. You- there’s something you have to see.” Armin says, dragging you out and handing you his phone. He rushes back into the bathroom to Connie, as you scroll through the tab on his phone. 

It’s a video of Eren and Lana, with chunky headsets and microphones in front of their faces. You recognize the backdrop immediately - one of the WBS’s most popular podcasts, called Life in Love. 

You press the clip and tilt the phone, eyes focused on Eren and Lana as they start talking. 

“The person that you’re most associated with, Eren, is your co-star, Y/N L/N, from Attack on Titan. Can you comment on that, on what it’s like to have your first love be something so public?” the interviewer asks. 

“First love is a funny way to describe it. I-I know that a lot of people like to assume things and we’ve never really said it publicly, but we never did actually date. It was a whole thing we did together, while we were filming Attack on Titan. Method acting.” 

“Can you elaborate?” the interviewer asks. 

“It’s like that thing with Ricky James. I mean, we’re all actors, we’re all part of the entertainment industry. And we do things, pretend a little, to make our art feel more authentic. The reason Y/N and I act so well in Attack on Titan, and win awards from it, is because we do it outside of it too. It’s like we’re acting all the time. You can turn it on and off.” 

“So are you just friends, then? I mean, Y/N has an interesting track record with her own friends, like Historia and Jean and Mikasa that many people have pointed out before. Is that something that you can corroborate? That she’s a good friend?” 

“She’s a good friend of mine, we-we laugh about it sometimes. And as for the stuff about her other friends, you know. You’re in competition and if you have something you really want, you-you’ll do anything to get it. That’s something I can admire. There’s only one person who ends up on a pedestal and if you have to kick people off to get there, that’s what it is.” 

You jump off the bed and rush back into the background, where Armin is crouched next to Connie, his hand on his head. 

“Connie.” 

“Y/N. Hey, you ok-” 

“What were you saying about Eren?” 

“Huh?” Connie asks, eyes deeply lidded and his breaths becoming more labored. 

You put your hands on his shoulders and shake, as aggressively as you can, as the tears stream out of your eyes. 

“What did you mean? What did Eren do?” 

“What he always does. Put himself first. Even if I’m the thing at stake.” Connie mutters, his hands shaking in your hold. 

Armin gives you a pained look as your tears flow harder, your hands still on Connie’s shaking frame. 

“Y/N. Get ready. We-we should leave.” Armin says, hands on his phone as he calls the car. 

“Okay. I-I need a few minutes. And we’re taking Connie with us. I-I don’t care if he gets fired or whatever, he-he’s not staying here, Armin.” 

Armin presses his hands on your shoulder, squeezing hard. 

“I was going to say the same thing. C-calm down, Y/N. Okay? I’ll be back in a few.” 

--

You wait in the kitchen as Armin lugs Connie’s bag down, swirling the glass of water in your hands. Your eyes are focused on everyone in the room, a smaller group, ambling around the room. 

“Hey.” 

“Oh. Hi Vance.” 

“It’s Vinh.” he responds, giving you a smirk. 

“Sorry.” 

He scoots closer to you, his hand firm on your shoulder, as he leans down, a smile spread on his face. 

“So, would you ever think about doing it with me?” 

“Excuse me?” 

“Faking it. Except, we can do all the real things too.” he says, securing his hand around your face and leaning closer to your lips. 

You push his hand off as you put space between you two. 

“Why would I ever do that?” 

“Don’t act like you’re above it. Eren, Ricky James. I don’t see how I’m any different. Or if you have any dignity to preserve.” 

You feel your throat dry, at the impact of Eren’s words solidifying in your mind. That him saying that your relationship wasn’t real only furthers all that hate you received after you told everyone the truth about Ricky. 

That you were fake. And it meant now that people were going to start doing it again - start nitpicking every little thing, your relationship with Mikasa and Jean, with Eren and use every mistake you’ve made against you. 

And for guys like this, it’ll just make them think this is okay. That you’re easy, that they’re entitled to what you’ve done for others because you’ve done it before. 

“It-it’s really different.” you respond, running out of the kitchen. 

You quickly duck out of the room as you see Armin dragging Connie down the stairs and make your way over to help him, the itchy, dirty feeling of the interaction you just had being pushed to the back of your mind. 

You and Armin lug Connie to the back seat of the car, letting him lie down flat against the seats, as Armin reaches for the last of the stuff to put into the car. Connie’s still twitching in the seat, eyes pressed shut and sweating. 

You place your hands on both sides of his cheeks, the tears filling your eyes again. 

“Connie. I-I think we should take you to rehab or something, you-you’re not okay.” you whisper. 

He’s quiet, still shaking in your frame as he opens his eyes and looks at you. And the tiredness, the red and the pain mixed together has your heart flinching in your chest, cutting deep. 

“I hate myself for it. I didn’t want to be like this. That asshole who is high when his best friends are getting engaged.” 

“They won’t be mad at you, Connie. We-we understand.” 

“But I don’t understand. I wanted to remember it, Jean and Mika, they-they’re special. I-I wanted to remember it.” he says, his voice cracking as the tears start spilling down his face. 

“Con.” 

“I hate myself for it. I really, really do.” he says, so definitively, so sure of himself that all you can do is squeeze his cheeks in your hands as he falls asleep. 

You brush your fingers through his buzzed hair one last time as you step out of the car, only to see Armin and Eren arguing near the bags by the door. You walk up, which stops them all together, as they both focus their eyes on you. 

“Eren. Can I talk to you?” 

He tilts his head towards Armin, who's still standing there, fists clenched. You give him a nod as he walks away, rolling the rest of Connie’s bags towards the car. 

“Did you want something?” he asks, eyes squinting into yours. 

“Yeah. I-I want to know what happened. You and I- we.” 

“Y/N.” 

You reach for his arm, for his fish tattoo right above his elbow and squeeze. 

“Eren. It-it’s not true, right? There’s an explanation for this? Because we-we can help you. We’re taking Connie and leaving and you should come.” 

“That’s not a good idea.” 

“Eren. Whatever it is, we can figure it out. Just come with me. Or if you need me to stay, I’ll do that too. We can figure out how to tell the truth about it all. I won’t leave.” 

He rolls his eyes, green eyes glaring into yours as he responds. 

“Y/N. What part of what I said was a lie?” 

You swallow hard, the acidic feeling in your mouth burning. 

“Like almost all of it? You and I were real. We loved each other. And we still do.” 

He places his hands on your shoulders and squeezes, as he drawls his voice out, each word stinging more. 

“Do we?” he asks, his look so harsh it stings and the tears rise to your eyes. 

Yes. You do. 

“Yeah. What-what about yesterday? On the beach?” 

He sighs, pushing his hand through his hair as he falls out of your hold, putting space between you two. 

“I asked you if you knew what it meant when I kissed you. You clearly didn’t understand what I was trying to say.” 

“And what did it mean, Eren?” 

“That was a one time thing. For-for fun. It didn’t mean anything like that, I-I was just thanking you for coming down all the way for my birthday.” 

You pale. 

“You and I spent hours talking on the beach. About-about it all and-” 

“We did other things too.” he responds, his voice biting. 

You feel your cheeks burn with embarrassment, the understanding registering. That you spent hours on the beach talking, but amongst that there were other things you did too. The pale purple on his neck is proof of that. 

“But-but you said all that stuff before. Sang that song, called me the moon and-” 

“You’ve always been into that fluff shit. We always say corny shit like that before we do stuff.” 

You pale, every memory of Eren whispering soft words against your skin as he kissed you souring in your mind. Because of the insinuation that none of it was real. That he just did it because he knew you liked to hear it, not because he meant any of it. 

“Excuse me?” 

“You know. The whole “we’re fish together thing” and the songs and all that.” 

You stare at him, at his forehead crushed up in frustration and his green eyes, cold and soulless as they stare at you. You look down at his fish tattoo, and cross your arms to cover your own, glaring back at him. 

“You’re a fucking liar, Eren. You-” 

“Y/N. I’m a fucking actor. My entire job is to pretend like I like you, do you really think I am so incapable of keeping the act up when the cameras turn off?” 

“It doesn’t make sense. There’s no reason for you to do that.” 

“There is. I want to win Best Actor in a TV Series.” 

“And what does that have to do with us?” 

“Levi said that this role, if I did it right, could make me the fucking best. And you-you had no experience. I had to make sure that you actually liked me so that I didn’t have to carry you in every fucking scene. So that your acting wouldn’t bring me down.” 

"Eren."

"Why did I win an award for the Thank You scene? Because you actually fucking liked me, because you were able to cry and act in the scene. You're a good actor, but you were never that good."

“But what about after? You-we were together when we weren’t filming.” 

“You went on your tour. Got distant. Did I ever once make any effort to talk to you when you stopped? No, I didn’t. You broke up with me on that balcony because your team wanted you to date Ricky James instead of me. Did I stop you? No. You know why? Because who you date doesn’t fucking bother me, not in the slightest.” 

“You knew. We-we understood each other. That’s why we broke up, because it’s fishbowl and-” 

“Who the fuck would be okay with that? Seriously, if it was all in earnest, you think I’d just let you do that?"

“Then why the fuck are you writing depressing ass songs at the Met Gala and then taking care of me after the whole thing went down?” 

“Y/N. You’re so fucking naive. That’s what you have to do. I act on the screen and I make people interested in me after the fact. I write songs about you, make it seem like you’re the one who broke up with me, so that people stream the songs. So that people talk about them. So that they’re popular. And then I save you after the fact, because at the end of the day, you and I still have a show to fucking finish and I can’t exactly leave you out there in the rain, can I?” 

“Eren.” 

“Think about it. After you were good and fine with Ricky, did we keep talking? Did it stay the same? No. I had no interest in putting effort in after that, because I was dating another girl. And I still am by the way.” 

“Eren.” 

“Get it through your head. You- I had to help you. In whatever way I did. Your parents weren’t famous and you had no ins. I have to do something to offset that if you’re my co-star.” 

"No part of real to you? Not even one?"

"It-it's fun to pretend sometimes. But that's all it is, Y/N. Pretending. Faking it."

You feel a hand on your shoulder, squeezing hard, and turn to find Armin, his jaw clenched against his head. 

“Are you serious, Eren? How can you even say that to her?” 

“It’s the truth. She should try it sometime.” 

You choke back a sob, your chest heaving up and down, as Armin lets go and pushes Eren, the irritation sitting in his chest. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you? Why are you doing this to Connie? To Y/N?” 

“Armin. We filmed one show together when we were kids. Don’t get mad when I don’t have the same loyalty that you all feel for each other. It was fun, but I still have a career outside of it.” 

“Eren. You loved Attack on Titan. And us, you-you wanted to go back to it so many times after we stopped filming and went on hiatus.” 

“Yeah. Because I was in a show that was actually good. Not shitty movies that were flopping. That-that had nothing to do with you guys.” 

“Eren.” 

“You guys should leave. I’ve had enough.” 

Eren reaches for the last bag, grabbing Armin’s polaroid camera on top before pushing the last bag into Armin’s hands. And when he extends his hand to hand Armin the camera, he pulls back at the last second and lets it fall to the ground, with a resounding crack. 

All you see is red.

“Eren. What did you just do?” you ask. 

“My bad. I broke it.” he spits out.

Armin swallows hard as he looks at it, the camera that’s documented every portion of your childhood, every up and down and in between for the past seven years, now broken in his hands. Levi and Hange's vow renewal, every birthday, everyone messing around in between takes and- he just broke it.

You crouch down and put a hand on Armin’s shoulder, his tears falling straight onto the floor, over the camera. And pick up the pieces with him, the jagged edges hard in your hands, as you carry them over to the car. 

You look back one last time, to see Eren with his hands in his pockets, illuminated by the moonlight, you take one last look and sit in the car. And then get in the car and let your tears flow freely. You lift Connie’s head and place it in your lap as Armin puts in the directions. And on your right, your phone buzzes and you pick up. 

“Hello?” 

“Hi! This is the Seattle Aquarium! We just wanted to know what time you would be coming by for your friends birthday tomorrow so we can set up?” 

You swallow hard and hang up, cursing the stupid aquarium and the stupid fish that got you caught up in this in the first place. 

You slide to Eren's contact - the picture of you two staring back at you - and block the number. And make a mental note to get your tattoo removed. 

--

“Hello.” 

“You’ve sat idle for three months now. And I’m not letting you sit around any longer. It’s-you have to defend yourself. This-you’re better than this. They’re making a mess of you.” 

“Let them. Is there really anything I could say to stop them? No and-”  

“Watch the link I sent you. Quit talking back with your shit excuses and remember why you even did any of this in the first place. And then call me back when you’re thinking straight.” 

The line goes flat as the notification comes, the link in your messages. You open it up, a clip of Hange’s getting their triple threat commendation. Their speech, the one that got you involved in all this shit in the first place, ringing in your ears. The only reason you wanted to be a triple threat in the first place. 

To anyone watching at home, in their living room in their rundown pajamas, this is a sign to never ever give up on your dreams. Because that used to be me, and it can be you too. Never let anyone stop you from becoming the triple threat you are meant to be. To let that fire run wild and true and let people see the real you.  

The media made a shit show out of you, in the three months that followed. So much so, that you don’t even show your face in public. Because it snowballs so fast, the entire drama around Don’t Worry Darling, around you and Eren and Hyla becomes the only thing people talk about. 

And the narrative is simple. You're quickly written off into something you’re not. That you faked your relationship with Ricky James and Eren Jaeger for publicity, that you leached off of their fame to be famous yourself. That it’s all you care about. 

Hyla goes on the record and brings up the night you and Eren shared on the beach. And quickly gives you your reputation as a home wrecker, as a people pleasing attention seeker who likes people who puff up her ego. 

People like Jean and Mikasa, like Connie and Sasha - who are still famous and good for your image, but not famous enough to over shine yoU. Not like Historia, who you so quickly discarded and then opened a full on competition with when you released your records. 

That at the end of the day, all you are is a small town girl from Canada, with a sick need to be at the top of the pedestal. To have people clamoring around you, praising you, because of your inferiority complex. That you're easy, that you have no feelings, that you're not even a real person.

The words churn in your mind, the thought angrily swirling with every other feeling. And the push, the support in a moment like this solidifies your plan in your mind. To let that fire run wild and true and let people see the real you.  

The real you. 

you’re right. i’m in. 

on my first flight out. we’re going to bury this asshole in the ground. 

And in the most perfect way, you’ve got the best person at your side helping you. Always known for upstanding honesty, truth, and for digging people into holes when they deserve it. For burying them with art, with carefully chosen words and songs.

It’s what makes her the perfect right hand to your revenge. Historia's always had a flair for the dramatics.

--

next part linked here

an, again: sukuna reputation era? sorry. girls do it better. (im just kidding, he'll be part of the reputation era but our best baby girl historia will be too). there is just something so insane about them ALL using historia as a piece of evidence against y/n and then her being right at her side. also no one hang me at the stake please.

taglist:

@k0z3me @kayleegomez @yihona-san06 @bsenpai @sweetenertea @mykyoon @violetmatcha  @rebeccawinters @cutiejg @bokutosthings @bookwrmm @mblrrr @wheredidmycrowngo @somethinginyoureyes7 @chilichopsticks @okaystopwhore @you-always-made-me-blush @itzmeme @firelordazulaaaa @whoami-72 @g-ghostly @intimacywithceline @erensmoodygf @cocomellxn @princess-ackerman @jaegerfiles @cacapeepee @squirrelspoetry @rui-0836 @moonmalice @invisible-mori @sofiasber @bbybeeb @timetobegone @tee4str @ttokki2 @leave-rae-alone @ec3lipsy @officialsimpp @gojojang @yookayyo @lordbugs @multiplefandomthings @iobeyfandoms @camilo-uwu @justanotherkpopstanlol @mel-star636

[bloodiedrogue]

FEED ME

SUMMARY: You ride Astarion's thigh and he lets you drink his blood. That's it. That's the fic. It's horny as all hell.

PAIRING: Ascendant Astarion & Spawn Female Reader

WORD COUNT: 1,519

WARNINGS: 18+ sexual content, thigh riding, praise/degradation, orgasm denial (if you squint), penetrative sex (reader receiving), blood sucking, spit kink, allusions of religion.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Honestly this is just so gross I apologize I literally have no excuse other than I'm going to hell probably. :')

MASTERLIST

-

Patience has never been your virtue. 

In fact, it’s something you’ve sorely lacked your entire life, believing you deserve to be treated in a timely manner regardless of circumstance. Because of this, it often feels like an uphill battle when you’re forced onto Astarion’s thigh, dripping with sweat, begging for release as you grind against the fabric of his trousers. 

“Patience, pet,” he always says, holding your face —tightening the grip he has with rough fingers that make you whimper at the thought of your own prolonging. 

Every time, you have to fight the urge to clench your jaw and grind your teeth. To showcase displeasure in the face of God as he graces you so slowly and intimately. Allowing you to pant against his chest and lock your arms around his neck as he trails soft patterns into your flesh. 

Deep down, you know it’s a gift. To be able to touch him in any sort of way is an act bestowed. An act meant to be cherished, so you wait. Telling yourself it’ll be worth it in the end as you listen to the whispers that flutter against your ear.

“That’s it, keep going.” 

His voice is like a hymn. Every verse of instruction, spoken like a blessing, forces you to hold your breath and shift your weight further against his leg. Feeling the pressure build so slowly you can’t help but whimper in frustration, you hear him laugh. The reverb of his torment rattling against your aching hands that gently thumb his throat, seeking more. 

Barely above a whisper, you beg. Pleading through the desperate buck of your hips, you ask for indulgence. For absolution. For him to pity your starving cunt as it continues to brush against him, unable to pass that final threshold. 

All he does is laugh again. The wicked tone piercing your flesh like a knife as his fingers dig into your hips, forcing you further down. “You’ll get what you’re owed,” he tells you then, grinning —bearing his teeth tauntingly. “Once you take it.”

At that point, it feels like he’s punishing you. Forcing you to take penance —to perform your devotion in a way that he enjoys.

You’re not sure you’ll ever understand it. Why he does the things he does. Why, without fail, he prolongs your needs to feed and fuck —to feel him fully firm inside the walls of your sex. 

Even now, as you try to distract yourself from the agonizingly slow speed at which you ride his thigh, feeling him give you that little extra push as you grind further down, all you want to do is lean forward and sink your teeth into his flesh. To suck the wound and lap away the crimson blood that’ll pool within your mouth. 

It makes you hungry just thinking about it. Starved. Filled to the brim with every desire he so effortlessly dangles in front of your face. As if you’re a malnourished dog and he’s offering himself like raw meat.

You lick your lips and think of what he might taste like. How his blood compares to that of the people he feeds you. Would it be warm and sweet like honey? Would it thicken against your tongue, allowing you to savour its flavour before it slips down your throat? Or would it feel more like a cool glass of water? Refreshing and light —easy to gulp down? 

“Mm, I see someone’s getting a bit hungry.” 

A part of you wants to narrow your eyes to showcase your displeasure, but you don’t dare. Instead, all you do is close your mouth, realizing how slack it is as a pooling of spit collects at the corners. 

It makes you embarrassed. Feeling the drool that slips down the edge —watching as he reaches to wipe it away with a huff, calling you pathetic. Telling you that only good girls get their fill. 

“I won’t give you what you don’t deserve,” he says, leaning in, staring into your eyes as they instantly twitch away, averting their gaze as your mind begins to shift. Focusing on the feeling of your core, aching with heat as you tremble through distracted movements still thinking of his taste. 

Feeling you falter, he forces you to look at him again. Gripping the bottom half of your face, his nails dig into the plush of your cheeks, commanding you to keep his gaze. 

“Look at me,” he says. 

There’s a force behind his words that quickly reminds you of the position you're in. That despite being physically above him, in all other cases you’re actually far below. Lower than the dirt he walks on, meaning you shouldn’t take this moment for granted. 

Realizing this, you nod your head against the placement of his hand, feeling it loosen ever so slightly as you take a deep breath, preparing to move. Jutting your hips forward, you then start with languid motions.

Getting the feel for what you like, you test out different weights, dropping your hands towards the top of his thighs to further support yourself.  As you do, you feel Astarion’s hands begin to slide out of their original places. The one on your hip moves to cup your ass while the other, still remaining firmly on your face, begins to stroke your cheek. As if to further coax you through the snapping of your pelvis as it starts to rock in place. 

Both gestures work to encourage you. Somehow, despite their subtleties, you feel the support they offer each time you grind against him, feeling that imaginary band begin to pull further apart. As he palms your backside, giving it a little rough tap here and there, the only thought behind your eyes is that of his prior instruction. 

That you need to take to receive.

Pushing your hands further into his legs, you let out a heavy breath that quickly tails out into a moan, making him smile and stroke the base of your cheek so lovingly you almost whimper in response. “That’s it, darling, keep it up.”

You nod, unable to form coherent thoughts as your folds brush against the fabric; the texture serving as that extra push you need to keep yourself going. To motivate the motions as you push and pull, feeling it continuously build until your mouth is split open again he’s ripping you off of him. 

It leaves you disoriented, being quickly tossed to his other thigh ass first, watching as he palms the fabric that rests over his cock before allowing it to spill out. 

Once it’s on full display, you look back up at him with such desperate eyes that you’re almost surprised when he wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you back, praising you all over again. Telling you what a job you’re doing as he maneuvers your legs around his waist and begins to slide in. 

It’s slow but smooth, the way he slots himself into you. Immediately, feeding you a piece of that hunger you crave, you’re rewarded with a quiet hum of approval as you rock your hips against him, feeling the way he juts inside in response. 

It leaves you breathless upon impact. The weight of your torso leisurely bouncing on his cock, forcing you to wrap your arms around him again. Almost instantly, they take hold of his throat with the crook of your arms, allowing him better leverage to push you up only to pull you back down as he grunts through each movement —groaning as you provide him with enough impact going down to hit that spot that has you twitching around him.

By then you’re both moving in perfect tandem. As he offers you your earned pleasure, you begin to moan his name in prayer, repeating it as a thank you for his benevolence.

In response, he smiles through a heavy breath and maneuvers his wrist to his lips, never breaking eye contact as he drives his teeth into the base of the flesh, forcing the blood to enter his mouth before he reaches for your chin. 

Once he’s had his fill he presses a thumb to your lips, applying the smallest amount of pressure as he continues fucking into you, watching with bated breath as you open up wide for him, granting him the access he needs to feed. To take your cheeks in his hand and angle your head back so that he can slowly release the blood into your mouth. 

As soon as it hits your tongue you can feel yourself become sated. While he drives himself further, snapping his hips in timed sessions, you can barely focus on the sweetness of his taste. How it tickles your tongue going down but still manages to ease all the previous aches of hunger. 

Looking up at him, you smile with blood stained teeth, deliriously laughing through the final pumps before both of you are coming together, twitching against each other’s flesh as presses both hands against your spine, willing you to have your fill as he offers you his neck, continuing to fuck you through your orgasm. 

-

@poohxlove @gaiasmight @sassy-stupid @novarex @v-gremlin @sapphiccloud @lipstickghoulie @kuroitsukyo@jjfchk@idiotsatan@bluestuesday@bloopthebat@art-by-greenie@heneralmoon@sukunababe@dreamingaboutyousworld@ranfithegood@haniscrying@liadamerondjarin@the-lake-is-calling@marina-and-the-memes@rookieoftheyear@zraloci-cpr@kaetmo@snickerdoodle-daydream@wowowwild@d1anna@raswiet@conniesbbymama@venus-wrts@demonicthorns@kihten@deadglamsheep@sanscas@spammypasta@leighsartworks216@rose-gold-blue@p1ssmagg0t@hellish-writes@ghostinvenus@otayz@sexysquatch@sleepyeclair@colorful-anxieties@alina-exe@ilana-the-lasagna@lillifer@girlwiththepapatattoo@y2cade@acelin-ginsberg@pinkuranium@catrad0rable@scarletrosesposts@qwnamidala@itsrosebabe@bunnyperi@queenofcarrotflowers-s@tatumadams20@spkyxszn@chlort@f3v3rs@awkwardwookie@joy-the-reader@warm-milk-with-honey-blog@vertigocrime@iyis@wildpiper@pebblethestone@tillywasneverhere@bex-03@kaetmo@revemiya@staticspouse@itzagothamcitysiren@djarinsmixtape@when-the-night-came@epicy0n@bababahannah@sleepyred1703@lotus-99@lofcompass@r4d10h34d5@vampninjaz@itsmekalou@offbrandhand@yikes-buddy@konenichi@rainonarden@oceanbluesixeyes@bodtyworship@maydayitsjay@greasyslimebucket@yeeteth-the-raven@fantasyfairysworld@allexthakatt@flowersaretheshit@morglyne@thespectacularspaceace@cephiss0@use-your-telescope@furblrwurblr@kloverfield@angelofthorr@writervaul-t@starved-kitten@minixluvr@crowley--aziraphale@sapphicwren@alionera-blog@jennithejester@dezedrol@thisisew@saladalpaca@applepiewithbacon@httpbiohazard@aurasyn@nerdoodles@kingpinthedevil@itzkawaiix@domainoflostsouls@silverskylan@uminootome@helpidkwhatimdoingwrong@deadlyinfernos@blackbirdswhispers@sarahskywalker-amadala@writingmysanity@f3v3rs@jayjones03@quietlyebbie@optimisticprime3@eyes-for-daze@sunnytalia3@megoshh@maddiedott@cappsikle@mostbeautifulnightmare@lynnlovesloki@simpytheshrimpy69@astarion-archive@smaranshakthi@autistic-deer@shadowfeart@freckled-petals@candied-lavender@hp-art-studio@ghouligan@satelliteapotheosis@waywardwitch-hel@pandimoostuff@mythoughtsofinsanity@ilovelovelylove@oneandonlyizabelle

TAGLIST NOW CLOSED!

[retroellie]

Bloody mess

Summary: Period pains suck and Daryl only knows one way to help you

A/N: I'm on my period and very Horny for Daryl rn, so hey :) Have a acute little period smut. Also, i want to start writing blurbs because writing full fanfics is so time consuming and i have some many ideas but not enough time to write them yk? So, expect short fics coming up!!

Warnings: NSFW, Cunnilingus, period sex, blood and just gross descriptions

Word Count: 2.2K

You don’t know how you ended up in this situation, with your hands tangled in Daryl’s hair as he went to town between your thighs. You just came home from work to find the kids at Rositas house, the house was empty and the shower was basically calling for you. You were in extreme amounts of pain, you had gotten your period that morning and throughout work you were on the verge of just collapsing so all you wanted to do right now was lay in bed and hope the cramps stopped.

The nice hot shower you took helped some, the dull ache in your stomach ceased for only a couple minutes before it came back and twice as bad. You could do nothing else but put on some underwear with a huge pad and one of Daryl’s black shirts, just lay there until it felt better. You were laying there with your eyes shut and a hot water bottle on your stomach, it was useless even trying to sleep because the pain would wake you.

You thought all hope was lost until you heard the front door open, at first you thought it was the kids so you attempted to cover up some but the footsteps you heard were much heavier than your goofball niece and nephew. The footsteps go louder as they make their way into your room, the door creaking open to reveal the culprit of the noise. It was Daryl, he was coming home from a long day at work and he was exhausted to say the least.

The first thing he saw was you with a towel underneath you, a pair of black underwear and his shirt. At first he thought you were genuinely dying with how sickly you looked but he eased up when he saw your little eyes peek over at him and he saw you were just fine… maybe not fine but you were alive.

“Hey….” You said weakly, hand attempting to block out the sun from your eyes.

“Hey. Are you good?” He asked, making his way into the room fully to set his things down.

You shrugged, moving your body so you were laying flat on your back and you could get a better look at him. You weren’t sure why but the way his black shirt tightened around his chest and how his arms were far too big for it had your stomach fluttering. Maybe it was your hormones craving to be touched or it was simply exactly what Daryl did to you when he came home from work, all sweaty and worn down.

“Hmm, it’s my period. came early this time and it hurts like a bitch.” you replied, hand placing the hot water bottle on your stomach. The pressure of it slightly makes you wince.

Daryl felt terrible, he knew it wasn’t his doing but still hurt to see you in such pain. Not to mention Daryl had seen you take out hoards of walkers by yourself, he’s seen you get shot too many times and you can take a stab wound like it’s a simple scratch so seeing you like this… in pain and broken down simply because your body is fighting against you, Daryl feels awful. He didn’t know what to do to make you feel better but be there for you and even then, that won’t stop the pain.

However, Daryl sometimes hears his coworkers talk, although they talk in such disgusting ways about women he tends to take in the information and learn from it. One time he overheard his coworker saying how period cramps can be helped with orgasms, he’s not sure if that’s true or not but if it’s the only thing to help you in this moment… he’ll eat it like a hungry man. It’ll also benefit him, he loves coming home after a long day at work and just makeout with your pussy.

“‘M sorry bunny…” he said, climbing onto the bed below you and rubbing your feet comfortingly.

You smiled, hand still gripping onto the hot water bottle as it burned your skin. Daryl continued rubbing your feet, making his way to your calves and your tired knees. The warmth of his fingers felt nice, the roughness of them giving you a slight tingle that led to your heart. You closed your eyes, taking in the pleasure of being touched.

“Ya know I heard orgasms help cramps.” He stated, causing you to let out a laugh.

You weren’t expecting it, it was random and caught you off guard. You guys had sex a lot, any chance you got Daryl would be inside of you but you never let him do anything to you in your period. Not that you think Daryl would care but it was messy and you were honestly embarrassed by it, I mean you literally have blood coming out of your vagina… you don’t expect him to want to get all bloodied up for you. You thought he was kidding but the look on his face was serious.

“Really?” You asked, sitting up on your elbows to face him.

“Yeah, why not.” He stated.

You furrowed your brows, cocking your head to the side like that was the most goofiest thing you had ever heard anyone say. Daryl just ran his hand closer and closer to your underwear, hinting at what he wanted. You obviously didn’t stop him but you did recoil back abit, your thighs slowly inching together as he got higher and higher.

“Ya don’t have to do anything’, just sit back and look pretty for me.” He grinned, watching your facial features change as his arousing words sent shivers down your spine.

“But it’s gonna be messy…” you said, hesitating on whether you wanted to do this or not.

Daryl gave you the stupidest face you’ve ever seen a person give you, he looked to say “really you dumb bitch.” With only his eyes. You were serious though, you were honestly hesitant because you were embarrassed by it.

“When has a little blood ever stopped me??” He asked, his face still with that stupid look on it.

Daryl has been bloodied before, so bloody you couldn’t even recognize him and every time you could end up fucking him silly. This way you can get him all bloody without the harm towards him plus you could ease up those fucking cramps you were experiencing.

You opened your legs again, inching open so Daryl knew he had the right away. As soon as Daryl even thought you were giving him the okay he did not hesitate in getting started immediately. He damn near ripped your panties off, seeing your cunt glistening with a mixture of blood and your wetness. Daryl has eaten cooked dogs before and even fucking worms so he was going to eat you like a fucking steak dinner.

He sat on his knees above you, stripping himself of his vest and his shirt attempting to throw them on the dresser but missing completely. As he did so his eyes were trained on your cunt, he was so ready for it and he was so excited that you actually let him do so. He then bent down, eye to eye with your cunt as he slowly started kissing his way up to it. He kissed the insides of your thighs, not leaving a single spot unmarked, he even left a hickey here and there.

Your legs were already shaking, mostly with excitement but nervousness was also seeking through your body but you didn’t feel it for long before Daryl shoved his face in your pussy. It was so unexpected that you let out almost a pornographic moan causing Daryl to chuckle on your pussy. He started slowly, lapping up the blood that was seeping out of you slowly. You could already feel your cramps stop, instead your stomach was filled with a knot that was deep inside you.

Daryl licked up your cunt, teasing your clit as he licked anywhere but the bundle of nerves. His hands held down your thighs as they started to close around his head, giving him a perfect angle to eat your pussy nice and right. Daryl had all day to make you feel good and he was going to use it all up, hoping that maybe the neighbors could hear your pleas and moans.

“Daryl…” you moaned, the words basically imprinted on your tongue from how often you say it.

He was only egged on by your moans, his lips suckled down on your clit. You were right when you said it was going to be messy, the white towel you had placed down is now red, Daryl’s upper half is soaked with your blood and his hair was covered in it too. You got so lost in lust and pleasure that you didn’t care about the mess anymore, you just grabbed a fist full of his hair and pushed him closer onto you.

Daryl’s tongue continued lapping at gout pussy, sucking and licking until you were going completely insane. His hands made their way up to your tits, lifting up his black shirt you wore to squeeze the flesh that was there. You were getting lost in ecstasy, so high in the clouds that you forgot you were even bleeding in the first place. That was Daryl’s plan all along, making sure you forgot how your body was literally shedding itself of old tissue, which honestly fascinated the hell out of Daryl.

“M so close Daryl…” you moaned, gripping onto his hair harder.

Daryl looked up, peeking up to see you high in the clouds. Your back was arched, your eyes shut tightly and your hand making sure his hands stayed massaging your tits. He thought you looked so beautiful, so angelic and so fucking sexy, he could stay like this forever if you’d only let him. Daryl knew how to make you cum and he knew how to do it well too so he took his free hand and stuffed two fingers inside you, pumping them in and out while his tongue worked in your clit.

The knot in your stomach grew tighter, becoming so unbelievably tight it became so uncomfortable as if you didn’t cum it would quite literally kill you. Your hips started to grind against his face, holding his head in place as you did so. His nose was now deep inside your slit, his tongue still lapping your bloody cunt and his fingers going at a slow and teasing pace.

“fuck… shit…. Daryl I’m cumming!!” You screamed, his actions only picking up in pace.

Just then the knot in your stomach exploded, your juices spilling out of you, mixing in with your blood. You continued to grind on his face, this time your thrust was jagged and jumpy. Daryl tongue fucked you through your orgasm, shoved his fingers in and out of you even through your walls were contracting against them. You came with a loud scream, sounding as though you had been being murdered.

After your hips had stopped bucking violently and the only thing you felt now was the soft aftershocks of the mind shattering orgasm, leaving your body shaking softly, Daryl was working his tongue on you still. He lapped up all the blood and cum that had been left behind, taking it all in and tasting the metallic sweet taste it left behind. You were sensitive now, overstimulated and every time his tongue touched your sensitive bud, your hips would jolt up and your thighs would attempt to close.

When Daryl was finally done with you, making sure your cunt was clean and rid of all juices, he pulled away from you. His face was dripping with you, blood marked his entire face almost and it was damn near dripping off of him. You looked into his lust blown blue eyes, seeing his softness in them which honestly turned you in more. He just did the most disgusting thing and his eyes are still so soft when they look at you, how can someone so rough and scary be so angelic to you.

You don’t know what came over you but for some reason you had the violent urge to kiss his bloodied lips. You sat up still looking him right in the eyes as you grabbed him by his face and pulled him into a rough kiss. You could taste yourself on his lips, lapping your juices up and taking them into your own mouth. Most would be disgusted at what you were doing, all of this would be horrific to them but not you. You found what he did so fucking attractive and he did it all for you, well maybe his self just a little.

“Do you feel better?” He said pulling away from you, seeing how your face was now covered with your own blood. You just smiled up at him, leaving soft kisses along his jaw.

“I mean for the most part… I think I might need another orgasm though.” You joked, sucking and licking at his neck now.

Daryl chuckled lowly, eyes closing as you created small love bites on his neck. You wanted him more than ever now and he was gladly going to give you everything your little heart desired. He just pulled you off of him, laying you down so your head hit the pillows and readied himself for the long, messy night that was to come.

“Anything for my bunny” he said before moving in between your legs once again, ready to overstimulate and fuck you until you were begging him to stop.

[divine-misfortune]

VOID PLEASE WHAT THE FUCK YOU CAN'T JUST POST THAT AND DIP PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE (respectfully) MORE???????

911 I’m being threatened -

This is all manipulative and gross so it’ll go below the cut so big cw. Very dubious.

Also @0-miles-away to make sure you get to see this too-

Phantom’s cute and Dew cant get enough of him. There’s this spark of pure innocence in those eyes, he almost feels guilty just looking at him sometimes. And I’m sure Dew tried to curb his appetite for him, did his damndest to be satisfied with those little touches and chaste kisses because he does truly enjoy Phantom’s affections but at the end of the day…Dew is a demon, it is in his nature to sin. Lust and greed come to him so easily. An intoxicating mix that is too good not to get drunk off of.

There are lines he toes, ones that he pushes against, and other’s he likes to blur entirely because Phantom just doesn’t know right from wrong yet - and Dew was keen on teaching him that lesson before anyone else had the chance to paint a perfectly blank canvas.

Pecks turn to real kisses, and kisses deepen gradually until Phantom lets Dew’s tongue into his mouth without any little sounds of protest like he had in the past. It almost seems to make the little quint weak in the knees to be kissed so hungrily and unfortunately for him it only spurs him and his devious nature on. When Phantom starts to fold, it’s easier to convince Phantom to lay down and let himself be kissed dizzy on more than one occasion and surely it’s accidental that Dew’s knee finds itself pressed between his thighs a couple times. The little gasps and surprised mewls Phantom makes, trapped against his lips, oh it could drive the holiest of men to sin.

Dew wants more, and he’ll get more.

He takes to dry humping immediately and he gets so wet so fast. He smells like raw temptation. It only takes a little coaxing after that for Phantom to be willing to lose his clothes piece by piece but gives absolutely no protest to Dew touching him. Phantom even pleads a little for Dew to keep sucking on his nipples while he drags his bare cunt against his denim clad thigh.

It’s a good long while before Phantom lets Dew touch him there. Weeks of white lies and small amounts of pressure to feel the tight velvety grip of his cunt wrapped around his fingers. Phantom winces and grabs his wrist and tells him that it hurts but Dew is known to be convincing, and Phantom is known for blindly trusting him. The only real resistance he’s met with is when he goes for his own zipper, open thighs pulling shut, head shaking, Phantom is saying he’s not ready for that. He doesn’t want to lose his virginity yet, and despite Dew’s prior successful manipulation he can’t get him to budge an inch.

But his naivety is easily twisted and Phantom believes him when he proposes a workaround. It’s not technically losing his virginity if Dew never fucks him. Can’t argue with that logic.

Phantom trembles for him, knees pulled up to his chest, holding himself open so Dew can pour generous amounts of lube directly into his twitching hole before he starts working the blunt and awkward silicone inside of him. He squirms and whimpers and keeps begging Dew to wait, it hurts, don’t push it in anymore, but it’s okay starlight, just a bit more. Dew is practically shaking with excitement and anticipation when he sees the silicone jutting out of his pussy, he can’t help but touch the toy. Plays with it as if it were Phantom’s cunt. Not as warm or wet as he is, but Dew’s poor cock is aching to slip inside.

The vision of Phantom spread out for him like that is burned into his mind for the rest of eternity, jaw gone slack, face gone flush. Stretched to what felt like the limit to accommodate both flashlight and Dew. And now that he has him, Dew can’t hold himself back anymore. Restraint reaching its end. He pins him to the bed, knees pushed up past his shoulders, he just has to immediately jackhammer into his cunt while mindlessly babbling that he can’t wait to fuck him raw. Promises Phantom is gonna love having a cock in him too much to ever be empty again.

Pulls out and cums on his belly, paints the entire little trail of hair on his stomach white and drags his fingers through it to smear across Phantom’s tdick. Make it messy as he jerks him off.

“When you really let me put it in - ‘s gonna be right there. Gonna empty my balls that deep inside your cunt, look at how deep you’re gonna feel me. Know you’ll love how my load feels in you.”

And I truly don't think Dew would be willing to share, not till he gets to take his prize. Can't risk anyone getting the chance now can he? We all know that people like Swiss and Rain and Cirrus would chomp at the bit if they knew.

Makes Phantom promise to keep this their little secret, and he does, because he's a good boy that listens to Dew, and Dew only wants what's best for him doesn't he?

[thearchercore]

As a film major undergrad and then entertainment business major post grad. The artistic elements of the F1 movie drive me insane AND THEN THE FINANCIAL AND MARKETING ASPECTS TOO!!

Apple is pretty notorious for just blowing huge amounts of money on shows and films that no one watches. So, it’s not even the $300 million budget that surprises me . It’s how little anyone seems to understand what this film is about or who it’s even for!! AND I CANT EVEN TELL WHERE THE MONEY FOR THIS FILM HAS GONE EXCEPT ON BRAD PITTS PAYCHECK BECAUSE THE TRAILERS COLOUR GRADING IS SO BAD IT CANT POSSIBLY BE ON POST

Maybe it was just a terrible trailer but the reason films like Rush and Le Mans 66 (Ford v Ferrari in some countries) is that they had something for both racing and non racing fans. 

Both based on true stories, with a compelling emotional core, recognisable actors (appeals to non racing fans mainly). Beautiful cinematic shots of cars going fast appeal to racing fans because those are views that you don’t usually get watching an actual race. 

the fixed cam shots of the drivers in the cars do nothing!! Because non racing fans will find them boring and racing fans would just rather watch a real race. Not Brad Pitt fucking about in an F2 car (which racing fans on Twitter have picked up on already!) The jet shots in top gun maverick (same director) worked because, hey people don’t usually see that sort of stuff, especially not from a pilots POV,  but we see fixed cam POV shots from car races all the time!! AND HOW ARE YOU DOING AUDIO FOR THAT??? is just going to be Brad Pitt breathing heavily the entire time??  

The exaggerated noises and car movements are fun to watch because F1 cars don’t move like that anymore! We don’t get to hear that classic WHOOOSHHH. hell even Michael manns terrible Ferrari movie was FUN because the story was interesting and the shots of the cars driving very fast around very scenic parts of Europe is entertaining. 

F1 (2025) is not based on a true story and the trailer was way more focused on the cringe “car for combat” line rather than what might actually make for an emotionally compelling story. An old racer thrown aside by the sport being dragged back to help an up and coming racer because that’s the only way he’s able to get back in a car. For the first time in his career He’s now the number 2 driver.

But it seems like we will get none of that and if we do the writing will be…uh bad!

ALSO THE TWITTER MARKETING!!! Who is that for!!! The only people who are interacting with that are already your target audience (F1 fans) they know the movie exists, they’ve already made up their minds about whether they are going to see it or not. And if non f1 fans see it they’d just be confused about it being a real f1 team and likely just ignore it. If this is your early marketing what on earth are you going to do next!! You can’t get Brad Pitt to do stunt drives for promotions cause he’ll probably die!! You are relying on name recognition to get non f1 fans to go the theatre and sign up to Apple TV for this and you didn’t even say FROM THE DIRECTOR OF TOP GUN MAVERICK in your trailer when that was the second highest grossing film of 2022 and had pretty much universal critical acclaim!!!! 

Brad Pitts old ass was also a terrible choice for this movie. Micheal Fassbender was right there!!! He’s literally done Le Mans, had an entire Porsche YouTube doc about his training and hypercar race attempts. And at 47, is a very believable age to play “retired driver but still young enough to come back” and he’d likely have been able to a lot of drives/stunts himself. 

I also dread to think how the real drivers are being included in this. I get wanting authenticity but these boys may look like models and actors but they are not!!! If anything I feel like it’d just ruin the emersion of the film because how jarring it’ll be to see real drivers, with their real names in a fictional movie!! 

This movie makes me crazy, it’s only been 1 trailed and some BTS info and I’m already like this. Watching the actual film ( which I do encourage people to pirate btw don’t give Brad Pitt money) is going to kill me 

i will be very surprised if they do pull it off because every move they've done so far was just objectively bad. naming it f1? awful. the ip will get lost in search engine tools because Real F1 will overshadow it. the trailer? no plot. brother is building a car for combat as if the FIA would allow anything like that. the closest we got was mclaren putting spikes on their car this year.

the trailer showed us zero plot, introduced zero stakes in the story. okay you're building a car, why? why do you want to win? what is the driving force of the story? the emotional core? why do i want to root for brad pitt's character if my driver is an actual character in the story??

so far the only people excited for it are real f1 fans that are going to see it to see max verstappen walk in the background in IMAX for 4 seconds. and those people take it as a joke, a hatewatch even.

they all know the f1 drivers can't act... like this whole thing seems so insane to me i cant believe how its an actual thing that's being filmed lol

and dont get me started on how the filming is taking two years (also bc of the strikes last year). two teams have completely different name. cars look different. suits look different...... like if they're fixing all in post god bless that team bc they'll be using more VFX than marvel

[cloudrumble23]

Evan woke up gasping, his shirt plastered to his back and his hair stuck to his face. He rubbed the tears from his eyes quickly to focus on the clock. 5:48 a.m. An ominous feeling spread through his entire body, but he took comfort in reminding himself that nothing bad could happen while Fredbear was watching over him.

The fabric of his plushie was worn and stuffing was sticking out between some of his joints, but Evan couldn’t bear to part with him long enough for proper repairs to be done. Father always said it would take a few days to fix the plushie if he wanted it done properly, and Evan would never accept a poor repair job, so instead of giving up the bear for repairs, he just kept Fredbear as he slowly deteriorated more and more each day.

He didn’t feel too bad about it though; Michael had done the exact same thing to his Foxy plushie, and he’d had his toy much less time than Evan had. Evan swapped out the destroyed plushie with his own, but Michael hadn’t seemed to notice, even as the original plushie’s head fell off somewhere, making it impossible to repair the poor fox.

The vest was coming a bit loose, but Evan ignored that. Fredbear didn’t need the vest anyway. It wasn’t his identity any more than Foxy’s hat was, and besides, no one remembered that Foxy even normally came with a hat. He squeezed the small bear, humming softly to himself as he waited for 6 a.m. to arrive.

Evan walked cautiously down the hallway to the kitchen, his guard still up from his unpleasant night’s rest.

“You stink,” Elizabeth complained. She was already in the kitchen eating her cereal while Michael was pouring his own bowl.

Michael rolled his eyes. “Welcome to reality Lizzie. People sweat and have body odor.”

“You never stink in the morning,” she retorted as Evan set Fredbear on the counter before climbing on it to reach the cabinet.

“I put on deodorant. Ev, get off the counter. I can get that for you.” Michael grabbed another bowl from the cabinet and filled it with cereal as well. “I’ll get Evan some when I go to the store, okay?”

“You better,” Elizabeth grumbled into her cereal.

“Plus, it’ll be fine. He’s probably going to shower before we leave for school anyway.”

Elizabeth scowled at that. “But then I won’t have time to do my hair.”

“Then I’ll do it.” Michael rolled his eyes again. “You talk like you have a terrible life, Liz.”

“Maybe I do!” Elizabeth snapped, shoveling more cereal into her mouth.

“Good morning to you too,” Mother said, yawning as she walked into the kitchen. “Are we having cereal for breakfast today?”

“Yes Ma’am,” Michael said, grabbing Evan around the waist to drag him from his spot on the counter. “I was planning to go to the grocery store today to pick up a few things.”

“No nonsensical things we don’t need now, Michael. You know how your father hates that sort of thing.”

“Of course,” Michael’s voice sounded stiff, but he maintained his politeness. “Do you want some cereal as well?”

“That’d be lovely, darling.” She sat down beside Elizabeth. “You children are so wonderful.”

Evan felt himself finally starting to calm down. Today was a good day. Mother and Michael were both in a good mood, a rare occurrence, if he was being honest with himself. Elizabeth’s mood was always sour, depending on who she decided to blame for her problems, but she was manageable. He just hoped they didn’t see his Father before school. That was the one thing that could ruin the peaceful moods of his mother and brother before they left for school.

“Do you want to go to the store with me, Evan?” Michael said abruptly after they’d all finished eating. “So you know where to look for deodorant next time?”

“I guess so,” Evan replied quietly, hoping that was the right answer.

It must’ve been, because Michael smiled faintly and ruffled his hair. His expression faltered, and he made a face though. Michael wiped his hand on his pants. “You really need to shower before we leave though, Little Man. Lizzie was right, no offense. You are kind of gross this morning.”

Evan shrugged. He didn’t want to explain the nightmares, assuming it would put Michael in a sour mood. He didn’t want to ruin the moment.

“Fredbear’s not looking too good lately either,” Michael mused. “Want me to stitch him up for you?”

“Huh?” Evan blinked up at his brother. “Fredbear’s fine.”

“His stuffing’s going everywhere-“

“He doesn’t need anything. He’s fine!” Evan scooped the little bear into his arms, and Michael raised his hands in surrender.

“Fine, fine. If you change your mind, let me know. It would only take, like, 30 minutes, tops.”

Evan didn’t reply to that. Instead, he changed the subject. “I’m going to go shower.”

“Okay.” Michael almost sounded disappointed. But that didn’t make sense. Normally he was happy to be rid of him. Especially so near his birthday, when his friends would be coming over all the time.

On the walk to school, Elizabeth wouldn’t stop gushing about how wonderful her hair was. She practically begged Michael to make it a more regular occurrence, but Michael just shrugged. Evan could see the smile on his face though. He knew it was only a matter of time before Elizabeth got her way.

“Mike!” one of Michael’s friends tried to call him over, but Michael ignored him.

“Come on, you two gotta get to class,” he said softly, putting his hand on Evan’s shoulder to direct him away from the other kid. With a startle of surprise, Evan saw a faint frown on Michael’s face. Maybe he’d had some kind of fight with his friends? Evan couldn’t ask about it, just in case.

“You can’t ignore us forever!” one of the boys shouted angrily while Michael guided Evan in the direction of the store after school.

“Just keep walking,” Michael muttered. He seemed very tense, and Evan wasn’t sure he could do anything to reassure his brother. He just did as Michael asked, hurrying along so they could get out of range.

A few short minutes later, they were walking into the store. Evan felt odd. He’d never been to the store without his parents before. Normally, he and Elizabeth only came when Mother was looking for something specific, or when Michael was sick, and Father was going to the store instead. Being here with Michael was… different.

“They don’t get it,” Michael whispered, seeming to forget who he was talking to.

Evan blinked at him, but Michael didn’t elaborate until after they’d filled the basket with necessary groceries and Evan’s deodorant.

“Everyone expects so much from me,” he mused. “My friends seem to think I have to give them every second of my attention. Mother thinks I have to be responsible all the time. Father…” Michael shook his head. “Even Uncle Henry assumes things. It’s awful, Ev.”

“Maybe it’s just because they like you so much,” Evan said quietly, hoping not to upset him.

“Nah. They expect me to disappoint them. Aside from my friends, anyway. It’s just so stupid. All this shit I have to put up with.” Michael froze. “I mean- Just forget I said that.”

Evan giggled involuntarily, surprising them both. “You’re not seriously apologizing for saying ‘shit,’ are you?” Evan asked. “Kids say that all the time at school.”

“Yeah, but if Mother or Father catches you saying that-“

“Who’s going to tell them?” Evan blinked innocently up at Michael.

He groaned. “I forgot how insufferable you are.”

“Only when I can be.” Evan grinned, feeling secure in his behavior. “Let’s get home. I have homework to do.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me.” Michael shook his head, but the faint smile Evan had seen that morning returned.

“Want to watch T.V. with me?” Michael said when he walked into the kitchen.

Evan guessed he was finished with his own homework, considering his confidence in the way he sat beside Evan at the counter.

“What are we watching?” Evan replied, continuing his notes while Fredbear observed them both.

“The Immortal and the Restless,” Michael said with confidence. “And, it’s not even scary, so you won’t wet yourself when we watch.”

Evan shook his head disparagingly. “I got scared watching a movie with you one time-“

“It gave you nightmares, Ev! I got in so much trouble for that, you know.”

“Then why offer to watch something with me again?” Evan asked before realizing what he was implying.

“I-“ Michael sputtered. “C’mon, man.”

Evan put his pencil down and stared at his brother. He wasn’t getting angry, which meant Evan could actually ask serious questions without fearing consequences for it. “You spend all your time making fun of me, and teasing me, and scaring me, and making me miserable. Why should I trust that you actually want to watch something with me?”

Evan expected a lot of potential reactions to his comments. Yelling, maybe. What he didn’t expect was for Michael to crumple in on himself. “I… Look, it’s not…” Michael swallowed harshly. “I can’t say anything to justify my past actions. You have every reason to be weary. But maybe I’ve changed, Ev. I want to spend time with you. I’m tired of pretending all the time, and I-“

“You’re not kidding,” Evan said softly. “Were you exaggerating this morning, then? When you said it would only take 30 minutes to fix Fredbear?”

“What? No. It’s a bunch of little fixes. You just gotta have the right thread. And if we hurry,” Michael glanced at the clock nervously, “I know Father has thread in his office.”

“You…” Evan blinked. “You’d do that for me?”

“I gotta prove my point somehow, don’t I?” Michael jumped up from his seat. “I’ll be right back.”

Evan turned back to his homework, no longer able to fully comprehend what was happening here. Was Michael genuine? Was he really trying to be a better brother? Evan honestly had no idea, but the best way to find out was to wait until the summer, when Michael was always really nasty usually. For now, though, he’d settle for help repairing Fredbear.

Michael returned, out of breath and a little bit shaky. “We only have a few hours before Father is supposed to be home.”

“Lucky you said it wouldn’t take very long,” Evan said softly, expecting a contradiction.

“Still frightening to think about,” Michael replied. “Okay, I got this.” He threaded the needle and looked at Evan expectantly. Reluctantly, Evan handed his brother the battered gold bear.

Michael set him up gently on the kitchen counter, tucking the stuffing back where it belonged as he started his row of stitching. Evan knew the seams had been originally on the inside of Fredbear, but Michael had tried explaining that he couldn’t fix Fredbear like that. He’d rolled his eyes actually, saying that doing it that way would take a sewing machine and a trip to the workshop, something Michael was not willing to do without permission.

So Evan had to accept that the repairs would be visible, but at least Fredbear would be ready to fight off another night of terrors.

Evan didn’t mean to fall asleep against Michael’s shoulder while watching the show. In his defense, he didn’t have a clue what was going on, and Michael was too busy watching to explain it to him. Evan ended up giving up on the show to study his brother’s face. It surprised him how energetic Michael seemed while watching the screen, but then, Evan guessed this was one of his rare moments where there weren’t expectations dragging him down.

He stirred as Michael carried him upstairs. Confused, Evan blinked sleepily at his brother. “What-“

“Shhh, go back to sleep,” Michael said softly. “I just want to make sure you’re not going to have nightmares.”

Evan always had nightmares. That was the general idea of everything going on. He hated the idea of disappointing Michael, especially after how nice the day had been, but he couldn’t control his dreams. Not now and certainly not ever. He couldn’t even remember a time when he didn’t have nightmares every night. But he had a feeling Michael wouldn’t be swayed in this, so he just nodded against his brother’s chest and closed his eyes again.

Evan didn’t have any nightmares that night. Or at least, they weren’t nightmares he remembered. He woke up that morning with Michael curled protectively around him, like Michael was afraid of something happening. Evan wasn’t particularly worried about that, though.

For the first time in years, he felt content and safe.

[cursedonyx]

Hogwarts Legacy Characters React to Being in a Haunted House Attraction

Sebastian Sallow

This boy doesn’t know the meaning of the word fear. Not in the sense of ghosties and ghoulies, anyway. He’s more frightened of things that can actually hurt, like Anne’s curse and Solomon’s abuse. Considering he willingly sought out tombs and catacombs to explore that are full of inferi, a haunted house is a walk in the park for this ballsy lad. He might jump if a scare actor pops up but then he’ll laugh and tell them ‘you got me!’ He treats the whole thing as a game and relishes any puzzles he comes across. He’s most often found joking with Ominis about everything, but this is partly because he's extremely protective of his best friend. Even though he knows he’s more than capable, he’ll keep an eye on him all the same.

Sebastian absolutely wants to go again the second he’s out, and might complain if he’s not allowed.

Ominis Gaunt

Shockingly, none of the visual scares work on our prince of snakes, and he soon gets used to the cacophony of spooky noises that surround him, they don’t bother him. He does find it a bit disorienting if there’s a lot of noise, and though he complains that he’s bored or finds it pointless, a very well-placed sound-effect will have him leap Scooby-Doo style into the closest person’s arms. He’s grossed out if he has to touch anything nasty and will avoid it at all costs. Everyone follows him through the hall of mirrors because to him, it’s just a hall.

He does end up enjoying it more than he’ll admit out loud, because after growing up in the house he did, what true fear can be found in a haunted house? It’s nice to be scared safely around his friends.

Garreth Weasley

Similarly to Sebastian, Garreth has a good time in haunted houses, but he’s very easily startled or spooked. He’s the first to scream at a jumpscare and he’s absolutely terrified of anything resembling a scary white lady with long black hair. He can and will bolt if he sees this. To cover his nerves, he makes loud, crass jokes and puns, which will either help calm everyone down or piss them off.

He and Sebastian might get into a dick-swinging contest about who’s the least scared, but when Seb suggests they go through alone, Garreth is not keen, but he’ll do it if he’s sufficiently egged-on, and he will shit bricks. It’s harder to be brave when there’s no one to show off for.

Leander Prewett

Leander is the type to boast about how ‘not scary’ these types of attractions are when he’s in the queue, but the moment he’s inside, he’s holding onto Garreth’s hand for dear life and more often than not is hiding his face in the back of Garreth’s shirt. Credit to him, he’ll go through the whole haunted house, but it’ll take a lot for him to actually feel brave enough to peek at his surroundings. He’ll probably regret it, because with Leander’s luck, he’s going to come face to face with something terrifying. The only time he’ll not cling onto Garreth like a life-raft is if he’s in there with people who are more frightened than he is – seeing other people more scared than him brings out the true Gryffindor bravery in him and he’ll lead them through, even if he needs a very strong drink afterwards.

Amit Thakkar

Perhaps surprisingly, Amit loves haunted houses. He knows they’re all pretend and are full of actors, not actual things trying to kill him, so to him they’re very much a game, a way to experience danger without actually being in danger. He’ll still shriek like a banshee at every little thing and might even run away at times, but the only thing he’ll outright refuse to do is crawl through a small space. He’ll have to be immobilised and pulled through if the group comes across one, because he absolutely will not do it under his own steam.

Andrew Larson

He’s a nervous giggler, and is cackling pretty much all the way through. He feels safest if he can hold onto someone and will probably form a chain with Garreth and Leander. That said, he’s not above taking advantage of how unnerved everyone is and he might try a few of his own scares, like running his fingers over the back of someone’s neck and pretending he didn’t, or blowing puffs of air on someone. He’s not particularly subtle and will probably be caught out quite quickly, but he’s such a sweetheart that everyone forgives him.

Duncan Hobhouse

Similarly to Leander, Duncan will boast to everyone that haunted houses don’t scare him, but he’ll only boast about that when there’s no chance of him being within fifty miles of one. He’ll come up with all sorts of excuses to avoid going, but if he’s forced, he’s going to be bawling from the moment he sets foot inside. Chances are he won’t make it to the end and has to be rescued by the staff before he has a full-on meltdown. Ominis, naturally, will take every opportunity to scare him more and make him leave so he can enjoy the rest of the attraction in relative peace. One could term this cruel, if it wasn’t for the fact that Duncan had been planning to do the exact same thing but meaner to Ominis until his cowardice got the better of him.

Natsai Onai

Natty can take or leave a hunted house. She enjoys the experience, but she’s had one too many scares in her life to take any real enjoyment out of being deliberately scared for fun. What she likes is the camaraderie with her friends as they all go through together, and she’ll be the first to make fun of herself for screaming at a spider when an axe-wielding maniac is chasing them down a hallway.

She’s also a bit of a mum-friend – if someone’s really struggling, she’ll do her best to comfort them and show them that haunted houses aren’t that scary, so she’ll probably be part of the chain with Garreth, Leander and Andrew. She’ll hum nursery-rhymes from her childhood when she gets nervous, and the others find this both endearing and comforting.

Poppy Sweeting

This little hellion will scare the actors. Poppy is a feral nutbucket and she delights in the chaos of the average haunted house. She will happy charge ahead by herself, shriek and wail at the actors to make them back off then go running back to the group with a huge grin on her face. On occasion, Garreth might pick her up and point her at something particularly scary, like a whirling-limbs-shield.

Poppy’s laughter is genuine in a haunted house. She loves the décor, the aesthetic, and the efforts the actors put in, and her enthusiasm is infectious. She and Sebastian will probably run off ahead together at some point, find some masks or bandages, then jump out and scare their friends.

She will actively try to save any real spiders she finds, and chances are her pockets will be full of them when she leaves.

Imelda Rayes

Imelda will probably affect great boredom going through a haunted house, complaining loudly about how dull everything is. She’s got a keen eye and great reactions, so she’ll probably spot a scare coming a mile off, most of the time. A skeleton would pop out and she’d yawn and go ‘seen it before!’ but then she’d turn around and come face to face with a scare she wasn’t expecting and scream the place down. Being used to yelling across a quidditch pitch, Imelda’s screams are quite something to behold, and Ominis learns very quickly not to stand too close to her for fear of going deaf.

Once out, Imelda will be the one giving a blow-by-blow of what happened inside, laughing with everyone about which bits scared whom and doing impressions of everyone’s reactions.

Masterlist

[mynameismckenziemae]

Unbroken

Part 5

(previous part here, next part here)

Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x You

Summary: You and Jake have the conversation that’s been a long time coming. Bradley feels terrible and makes it up to you.

Warnings: Warnings: 18+ MDNI! Smut, oral (f receiving), etc.

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

“You were pregnant?”

You nod, tears filling your eyes at the hurt reflecting back at you in Jake’s.

“The summer after high school? That’s what happened? Why you changed so much?” He asks, tears starting to fill his too.

You nod again.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He asks, voice breaking.

“Bradley, will you help me get supper on the table?” Charlie asks, coming up the stairs with Cash.

Bradley nods but hesitates at the door. “Em…Jake, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay, you had no way of knowing,” you assure him with a small smile.

You take Jake’s hand and lead him to the steps, away from the broken glass.

“Em, why didn’t you tell me?” Jake repeats.

“Because you would’ve been on the first flight home,” you sigh, knowing what he’s going to say.

“Damn right I would’ve,” Jake responds, confirming the exact reason you didn’t tell him.

“But you were in the middle of flight school, I didn’t want to distract you from that, Jake. I couldn’t. My dreams were circling the drain and I wasn’t going to see yours do the same.”

He just shakes his head, knowing it’s not worth the fight. “Can you start from the beginning?”

So you do. You tell him the same thing you told Charlie and Bradley.

“Stupid fuck probably didn’t put the rubber on right,” he shakes his head when you tell him that you were safe, making you laugh.

“Fuck, Em,” he says shakily, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and crying with you when you tell him that you lost the baby.

“Atta girl,” he squeezes your shoulder when you tell him how you slapped Chet stupid.

“I planned on telling you when you came home, but by that time I couldn’t even think about it without feeling like I was suffocating. I didn’t talk about it, I just pushed all those feelings down, along with most other feelings. I started seeing a therapist about a year ago and it’s really helped,” you say.

“Makes sense why you haven’t dated since,” he nods. “Why did you tell Bradley and not me? I assume Charlie knows too,” he sighs.

You hate how much this is hurting him.

“I told Charlie the night before the wedding. Don’t be mad at her, okay? I asked her not to say anything because I wanted to be the one to tell you. I’ve been meaning to when you got back from the honeymoon but you’ve been so happy and we’ve both been busy and…I’ve just been avoiding the conversation,” you admit. “Telling Bradley was unexpected. We were starting to, uh…get intimate-“

“Gross,” Jake grimaces.

“I’ll spare you the details,” you laugh. “But I haven’t been with anyone since Chet and I got nervous. I ended up telling him everything. God, he probably feels horrible. I never told him you didn’t know. How did it even come up?”

“He noticed Charlie’s not drinking and I told him there’s a chance she’s pregnant but it’s too early to tell,” he answers and you nod, Charlie told you she stopped taking her birth control. “He asked if I thought it’d be hard for you to see Charlie pregnant,” Jake answers and turns to you. “Will you be okay if she is?”

“I will,” you assure him with a smile. “I still struggle with the guilt and the ‘what if’s’ but that has nothing to do with you and Charlie. I’m so happy for you guys.”

“Thanks Em,” he says, watching the sunset. “It’ll happen for you too.”

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

“So you and Bradshaw, huh?” He asks a few minutes later, breaking the comfortable silence.

“Yeah,” you can’t help but smile. “I really like him, Jake. I didn’t think I was capable of feeling this way about someone anymore.”

“He’s a good one, Em. Speaking of, we should probably put him out of his misery,” Jake says, rising.

“Yeah, let’s go,” you reply, taking his outstretched hand to help you to your feet.

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

Charlie gives you a hesitant smile as she walks past you to find Jake. You nearly laugh at the look on Bradley’s face when you meet his eyes. He looks like he’s going to throw up, cry, or both.

“Emma, I’m so fucking sorry. I wasn’t thinking-“ he starts but you reach up to cup his jaw before shushing him with a kiss.

“It’s okay, really,” you promise when you pull back. “I never told you he didn’t know or to not say anything. That conversation was a long time coming and I’d been putting it off far too long.”

He still looks unsure as he nods. “Alright.”

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

“So whatever happened to Chet? He never came back after that ACL tear, did he?” Jake asks as everyone finally starts to eat.

You shake your head and fill Bradley in. “2 plays into his college debut game, Chet tore his ACL. He had to have surgery and missed the rest of the season. Ended up getting academically suspended by the end of his freshman year.”

“Chet always was dumber than a box of rocks,” Jake mutters.

“Ain’t that the truth,” you agree. “He moved back and began working for his dad at the bank over in Bishop. He started dating Lydia Hughes, and got married about a year later,” you laugh.

“Wait, he married Lydia Chlamydia?” Jake asks, horrified.

“She didn’t have the best reputation,” Charlie tells Bradley who’s bewildered by the nickname.

“No, she didn’t, and for good reason,” you say. “Chet caught her in bed with his dad before the ink on the marriage certificate was dry.”

“What?!” Jake exclaims before bursting into laughter.

“That’s why they divorced?! Oh my God! Okay, that makes sense why his dad picked up and left too,” Charlie says, laughing too.

“Yup. It was all pretty hush-hush at the time,” you smile, taking a sip of your beer. “Not gonna lie, it felt pretty damn good to hear he got what he had coming.”

“Still not good enough,” Jake mutters. “He’s a dead man if I ever see him again.”

“Hear hear,” Bradley agrees, clinking his bottle to Jake’s when he tips it Bradley’s way.

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

“You sure you don’t mind giving Bradley a ride back to his place?” Jake asks, yawning from his place on the couch.

You bite your lip as you share a look with Charlie.

“She doesn’t mind, trust me,” Charlie laughs.

“Gross,” Jake shudders before he stands up to wrap you a bear hug. “Love you kiddo. Please, please don’t keep something like that from me again, okay? I’ll always be here for you.”

“I won’t,” you promise. “I love you too.”

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

“My place first?” You confirm the earlier plan as you shift the truck into reverse.

“Still want me to?” Bradley asks, looking like a kicked puppy.

“Yes!” You laugh. “Please stop beating yourself up.”

“I’ll try. I just feel terrible,” he sighs.

“Don’t,” you reply, reaching over to place your hand on his thigh. “You can make it up to me when we get to my place if it’ll make you feel better?”

“I think that’d make me feel a lot better,” he sighs as your hand begins to circle higher on his thigh.

“I think so too,” you agree, barely brushing your fingertips over his erection straining against his jeans.

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

“I didn’t tell how you good you look yet,” Bradley murmurs as his hands slide over your hips. He brushes your hair aside before kissing the back of your neck as you try to unlock the front door. “Couldn’t keep my eyes off you all night.”

You drop your keys as you shiver. He inhales sharply and his hands tighten as you press your ass against his hard-on when you bend to over pick them up.

One of Bradley’s hands slides below your belly button as you straighten up and he pulls you back further, groaning softly into your ear when you begin slowly grind your hips.

“Feel what you do to me?” He breathes, his hand moving down further, but not yet touching where you want him most. “I’m constantly fighting this around you,” he punctuates it with a gentle thrust of his hips. “Shit, even when I’m not. When I hear your laugh, see your pretty smile, read your texts. I’m crazy about you, Em.”

“I feel the same way, Bradley. I can’t stop thinking about you,” you admit breathily while you attempt the lock.

He takes the keys from your trembling hands and unlocks it as his lips find your neck again.

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

The two of you make it inside and you lead him to your bedroom. He’s kissing you before the nervousness can creep in.

“No underwear?” Bradley rasps as he pulls your leggings off after laying you down, already ridding you of your shirt and bra.

You shake your head and fight the urge to cover yourself as he rises to stand at the foot of the bed to take in your naked form.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, his eyes on yours; not on your body.

“Thank you,” you say, giving him a shy smile.

He whips his shirt over his head and unbuttons his jeans, pushing them down before crawling over you and capturing your lips in a deep kiss.

You gasp and he groans when his cock settles between your legs, only the thin fabric barrier of his boxer-briefs separates you.

You whine when he pulls away, but it’s only for a second before he latches onto your nipple, teasing the other with his fingers.

He sucks gently before asking, “Do you like more of a soft touch here? Or rough?”

Your hands fly into his hair as he grazes his teeth over the sensitive bud and pinches the other. “Just like that,” you answer with a gasp.

He does it again and again, alternating with soft caresses and rough touches. You’re soaked and he hasn’t even touched below the waist.

“Please, Bradley,” you beg, panting when the want between your legs becomes unbearable.

“What do you want, honey?” He asks, not giving you a chance to answer before capturing the other overstimulated nipple with his mouth, flicking it with his tongue before releasing it with a pop. “My mouth on your pretty pussy?”

You nod eagerly, sighing in relief as he begins to his way there.

“You’re sure?” Bradley asks, pressing his lips to your trembling thighs.

“I’m sure-oh,” you moan, back arching as he licks into you for the first time.

His answering groan is downright sinful. “You taste so fucking good,” he murmurs against you.

You look down at him and whimper; eyes closed in bliss, hands gripping your hips, his tight ass flexing as he ruts into the mattress, trying to find friction.

He’s enjoying this as much as you.

“Oh, just like that,” you sigh; His mustache brushing your clit as his tongue fucks you. “Bradl-I…I’m gonna-“

Your hands find his hair again, tugging as your orgasm washes over you with a satisfied hum; Bradlwy making a similar noise between your thighs.

“Good?” He asks, sounding out of breath.

“Uh huh,” you reply, sated.

“Mmm, good,” he rumbles and lowers his head.

“Wha-again?” You ask, jolting when he finds your clit again, this time with his tongue.

“Mhmm,” he hums against you, his hips flexing into the bed faster.

“Oh…oh God,” you gasp when he brings his hand up and presses a finger inside as his tongue mimics on your clit what it was doing earlier to your nipples.

“Fuck,” he breathes, strained, and he pushes another finger in. “You’re so tight.”

You mewl when he curls them, zeroing in on your g-spot with the same rhythm as his hips.

Fireworks burst behind your closed lids and your ears ring when he gently sucks on your clit; an earth-shattering orgasm hits you so fast and hard it takes your breath away.

You’re so wrapped up in it that you don’t even notice the way your thighs are squeezing Bradley or his guttural groan that follows.

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

“Wow,” you whisper, trying to muster up the energy to open your eyes.

“You’re incredible,” Bradley murmurs as he kisses his way back up your body.

“I haven’t even gotten you off yet,” you laugh breathlessly as he lays beside you.

“Uh, you did actually,” he replies, embarrassment lacing his tone.

“I-what?” You ask, opening your eyes to his flushed face.

His eyes flick down and yours follow to the wet spot staining the front of his boxer-briefs.

He came just from eating you out.

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

A/N: Is it getting hot in here?

As always, any interaction is appreciated but I love hearing what you think in comments/reblogs!

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[rabbitblackx]

Can you write a headcanon where the female S/O was wearing their mask because they have a skin condition (flaking, acne, rash, etc.) and are too ashamed to show their face. But somehow the slashers made them take it off.

But since I wanted Freddy Krueger in it, it can be an S/O wearing his fedora because of her condition on her head or hair (balding, thinning, etc.)

Include: Jason, Bubba, Michael, and you can add Ghostface and Brahms if you want to.

Thanks

Okay! I got eczema on my face and eyes so I relate to this🥴

Slashers with a Fem!Reader that’s wearing their mask because of a skin condition

Includes: Bubba Sawyer, Michael Myers, Jason Voorhees, Freddy Krueger, Ghost Face (Danny Johnson) and Brahms Heelshire

Bubba Sawyer

Why were you wearing one of his masks? You were so pretty!

Bubba muttered and sputtered gibberish to himself, shaky hands touching you all over. You gripped the mask you wore, making sure he wouldn’t try and take it off

“My face looks terrible, Bubba. Don’t look at it. It’s embarrassing.”

Bubba whimpered. Why would you say that? That wasn’t true at all! You were the prettiest lady he had ever seen

He was heartbroken to hear that you were insecure about your condition. He nearly wanted to cry! He wished he could tell you what you looked like in his eyes

It took awhile, but Bubba finally managed to pry the mask off your blotchy face. Tears pricked your eyes, and you look shamefully down at your lap. He chittered softly to you, cupping your cheeks and rubbing his thumbs over them. Though you couldn’t understand him, you could tell he was trying to comfort you

“Thanks, Bubba.” You sobbed

Bubba kissed you softly, stroking your hair with bloody fingers. It was so silly of you to hide your flaws from him. They were what made you so beautiful to him. There was nothing in this world that would make Bubba stop loving you

Michael Myers

Michael glared daggers into you. How dare you take his mask? You slowly looked up from your spot on the couch, with him looming over you

“My skin’s real bad. I don’t want you to see it.” You deadpanned

Michael reached for his mask, where you then slapped his hand away. You both kinda just stared at each other in shock after. You couldn’t believe the nerve you had to just do that to Michael fucking Myers

“I put cream on. It’ll only be for a little bit until it makes it look better.”

Michael ignored you and reached for his mask again, earning another slap. He gripped your wrist and shoved it away. With a cry of protest coming from your end, he yanked the mask off your face by its matted hair

“Michael!” You scolded, shielding your blemishes with a hand

Instead of putting the mask back on his own mug, Michael tossed it to the floor. He sat down next to you on the couch, taking in your feminine features. Every time you tried to cover up, he roughly yanked your hands away. He made you look him in the eyes, made observe his emotionless expression. It was an expression that was plain and simple. He simply did not care

Michael couldn’t give less of a shit about your flaws. Your skin was blotchy, flaky or blemished? So what? You were you, and he actually liked you. Don’t go messing that up by stealing his mask again

The man cradled your cheek for a brief moment, before standing and ruffling your hair

“Hey!” You yelped

You turned and watched as he walked out of the room, fixing the mask back over his face. A crooked smile met your own, knowing that his rough gestures were actually his love language. Though Michael would never admit it, he thought that you were quite pretty

He wouldn’t ever let you know that, but you still had a hunch anyway

Jason Voorhees

So you were on your time of the month, and felt as if your face had flared up much more than it actually did. Jason felt so helpless as you sat there on the couch with his hockey mask on your face

“Don’t look at me! I feel like a big gross swamp monster!” You bawled

You held the mask in place, tears seeping out of the many breathy holes. Jason had placed your favourite snacks and blankets all around you, hoping that they would cheer you up. Alas, they did not

His mother never prepared him for anything like this

Not knowing what else to do, he plopped down on the couch next to you. As you cried into his mask, he carefully wrapped his arms around you. Jason pulled you into his lap, and pressed your head into his chest. You continued to cry, your shoulders shaking with each sob. You pulled at his heartstrings, causing him to tighten the grip he had around you

Slowly but surely, your crying soon simmered down. You rested against his warm body, relaxing with an exhale. You finally took the mask off your face and wiped your tears

“I think I’m losing it.”

Jason shook his head, stroking your hair and cuddling you close. Like Bubba, he really wished he could tell you how beautiful you were to him. At the end of the day, there was nothing he would change about you

Freddy Krueger

Freddy thought you looked so cute wearing his fedora like you were now. But when you told him it was because you were insecure about your hair loss, it made him confused

“You still have hair, don’t ya? Look at my head!”

Freddy lowered himself down to show you his burned scalp. You giggled sadly, adjusting his fedora on your own head

“Yeah, but it’s different…” you murmured

He didn’t know why you thought you had to hide from him. Like, seriously, just look at him. Compared to Freddy, I think you looked fine, okay?

“Don’t be stupid, princess. You’re beautiful.”

His kind words made your heart skip a beat. A blush dusted across your face as you rubbed your arm shyly

“Thanks.”

Freddy smirked, locking eyes with you in a wholesome moment

“Now give me back my hat.”

You laughed and rolled your eyes, slipping the fedora off and throwing it at him

Ghost Face (Danny Johnson)

Danny thought you were so weird. But at the same time, that was what he liked about you. He stared at you with his arms crossed, playfully narrowing his eyes at you. You were shrouded in his ghostly mask, successfully hiding your blemishes

“What are you doing?” Danny asked

“My face is all gross. I don’t want you to see me.” You replied

He sighed, a frown meeting his sunken features. “Babe, that’s crazy. You know I like ya.”

You adjusted Danny’s mask on your face, holding it in place. “Even though I’m ugly as shit?” You brooded

Danny scoffed. “You’re not ugly as shit, but you sure are dumb as it.”

That was his way of flirting. He said it because he liked you

You rolled your eyes before yanking the mask off, coming over to him and wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Thanks, Danny.”

You still didn’t meet his eyes, shy about your face. Danny didn’t care. He planted gentle kisses all over it, smiling like a dork. He snaked his own arms around your waist, pulling you closer

“Yer one pretty lady.” Danny grinned

You giggled like a schoolgirl before going in for a deep kiss

Brahms Heelshire

“Why are you hiding your pretty face?” Brahms asked in a childlike voice

“‘Cause it’s not looking too pretty at the moment, Brahmsy Wahmsy.”

Brahms begged you to take his mask away from your face. You just kept on telling him that you didn’t want him to see your flaws at that moment. You were suffering from a rather bad flare up

“Please? I’ll be good—I will. Just let me see your pretty face?” Brahms asked, his voice slowly growing more and more deep with each syllable

You bit your lip from behind the mask, hesitant hands coming up to slip the porcelain away from your features. Brahms hated that you were so shy about it like he was. He didn’t want you to feel like that, knowing how it was being burned and all. He thought you were being so ridiculous. You were perfect just the way you were

“I told you it was bad.” You said as you set his mask in your lap

Brahms gazed longingly into your eyes. Oh, you. Why couldn’t you see how stunning you truly were? This man definitely thought so

“I think you’re beautiful.” Brahms uttered

You smiled sadly, leaning in for a kiss. Brahms quickly followed, and smashed his lips onto yours. The kiss was tender and loving, your hands weaving through his dark curls. When you pulled away, Brahms stared at you as if you were an angel

“Thank you, Brahms.”

[hotluncheddie]

Memories of somethin' even smoking weed does not replace.

wc: 3.3k | cw: alcohol, weed | rated: E | part: 2/2 | tags: pre/post s4 au, handjob, hurt/comfort, raised catholic steve harrington

part 1 | ao3

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00:20 January 4th: Basement 

It’s nice, Steve thinks, down here in the basement. Where theres a hazy cloud of smoke from a group in the other corner, cigarettes and weed mixing. Where Steve can relax, let his mind wander to how it smells the same down here as Eddie’s hair had when he leaned towards him on the staircase. 

His mind floats there. In the pews, thinking about Eddie. It makes Steve’s knees itch. 

He slipped down to the basement because he had to. Too many people up there with solid plans of how to get out. Too many who already made it, visiting Hawkins like a novelty, a little trip to some place you can associate with the past, separate from the present. 

They kept trying to draw him in, upstairs, wanted to get to know the guy with the good aim. Some of them don’t even know about King Steve. He’s just some guy, too some, up there. Steve doesn’t know what’s worse. 

It all made Steve start to fidget, uncomfortable. He doesn’t have a plan to get out, doesn’t think he could even if he did. Hawkins isn’t a novelty, not to Steve, it holds his leash. He knows he’s tethered to the place, anxious and afraid to step too far over the thresholds. Knows it’s a little pathetic. But he can’t escape the fear that it’ll all fall apart, crack open and gape and he’ll be locked out. Fail those people who he can’t. Loose the barely there grasp he has on their attention already.   

But, even in the muddy swamp of his thoughts, he’s enjoying his spot in the corner, on an empty sofa. 

He’s definitely feeling the beers now, feels floaty and heavy at the same time. But he also downed a cup of water before sneaking away. So, it’s not taken him too far, not lowered his inhibitions enough to remind him of flower faces and underground fortresses. 

It’s more, just, suburban wallowing. A familiar tipsy sort of buzz. A burning in the back of his throat as his brain jumps from brown eyes to varsity hoodies and back to long dark curls. 

He does the breathing exercise a nurse taught him. Breaths in, holds it, breaths out, sinks into the couch. 

He’s okay. Robins okay. She’s having fun. He’s here and it’s okay. 

‘What was that about not liking attention Stevie, hm?’ Eddie asks as he sits down next to him, handing over a plastic cup and knocking their knees together. 

Steve starts, tries not to show how his heart rates gone up. How Eddie’s fingers brushing his own makes his blood fizz. ‘What’s this?’ He asks, clearing his throat, blinking to clear his head. 

Eddie wiggles his eyebrows, all drama and mischief. ‘Eggnog.’ Then he taps his nose. ‘Special eggnog.’

Steve raises his, takes a sniff. He almost asks Eddie why he’s down here but that would be stupid, and make Eddie leave. He’s not drunk enough to do the first and, also not drunk enough to admit how his chest caves in a little at the thought of the second. ‘Where’d you even get this?’ He settles on. 

‘Fridge. Said it goes off tomorrow so, figured I’m kinda doing them a favour.’ Eddie smiles. He speaks so easily, deep and lilting and musical, drawing Steve in with every breath. 

Steve shifts on the couch. Lets their knees touch, slide together. It’s heady, and viscose, like swimming through stained glass. Steve wants more. Steve decided to take, wants to take. Can kneel and see what he gets given. Smooth wooden pews. A basement at a party. 

Steve downs some, it’s sickly. It’s strong. That buzz seems to double. 

He steps into the robes of who he used to be, who kissed Nancy in the girls bathroom. Who’d whisper in girls ears at parties, make them moan. Blow a kiss up at the stands at baseball games. Did it all, like it was nothing. 

He sucks air in through his teeth, wincing at the taste. ‘This is gross Munson.’ he says, laughing. He reaches over and pours the rest of his cup into Eddie’s, pushing their shoulders together and feeling the heat radiating off of Eddie’s bare neck. ‘Plus, if I drink any more my dick won’t work.’ He doesn’t think, just says, low and murmured. 

The rosary beads are back, circling his throat, Steve thinks he likes the way they bite. 

‘Is that so?’ Eddie ask, smile obvious in his voice, gleeful and surprised. Speaking almost in Steve’s ear. 

‘Yup.’ Steve turns his head fully to the side, so close to Eddie’s face. Lets his eyelids droop, licks his lips. ‘What about you, King Freak, that never happen to you?’ He’s pushing, treading from shallows into deep muddy depths. 

‘Do not fucking call me that dude.’ Eddie shoves him lightly, the way girls used to, push just so they can pull him back in. ‘But yeah, obviously I do know, it’s science man.’ 

Steve slouches back next to Eddie on the sofa. Still close, still sharing body heat. ‘Dude, man, what’s up with that, bro?’ Steve teases, set alight. 

‘What’s up with that, bro?’ Eddie slides a hand down his face with a groan. But Steve can see he’s fighting a smile, hiding it behind his palm. Eddie’s rings glint in the lamplight. 

Steve thinks he could get used to this, being so close to Eddie. Watching his face split in half with his grin. Wide open, pink and white. Steve wants to taste. 

Eddie looks at him, incredulous, but his eyes are sparkling. ‘For a smart guy, you’re kinda dumb when you drink.’

Steve smirks, but something in him feels porcelain and breakable. ‘Dunno how I fooled ya into thinking ‘m smart. But ok.’ He says, smirk falling, he swallows, remembers again who he is, who he is now. 

‘Well you’re the only person on this sofa with a diploma.’ Eddie says, something hard in his eyes, but eggshell thin. 

‘Technicalities.’ Steve moves in closer again. As if reaching out.

Steve sees it now, they’re hard-soft. Church wafers before the spit. So similar in their differences. And Eddie knows. 

Eddie doesn’t say anything. He stands slightly to pull at the legs of his jeans and put his cup on the floor. When he sits back down Steve notes that they’re definitely closer than before. Hip too hip, shoulder to shoulder. He can feel Eddies bony elbow and the muscle on his thigh, weed-cigarette filling his nose, along with something warm, something Eddie. His eyelashes are long and thick. Steve swallows. Fiddles with his empty cup. 

‘Your question before, about attention?’ Steve starts, shifts so he can look up at Eddie’s profile better, take in the line of his nose. ‘I still like it, attention. Just, only when it’s from, certain people.’ And Eddie turns to look at Steve, eyes a little guarded, but Steve takes a chance, glancing at eddies mouth, for just a second, licks his lips. Watches as eddies lips curl up at the corners. 

Eddie stands and Steve feels sticky, hot and cold. But Eddie turns towards him, reaching into his jacket and pulling out a perfectly rolled joint. 

‘You wanna come outside? Help me smoke this?’ Eddie asks. 

Steve looks at it, looks up at Eddie. ‘No.’ Steve looks at Eddie’s handcuff belt buckle. ‘But I’ll come outside with you.’

Steve looks back up through his eyelashes and Eddies eyes are hungry. 

00:59 January 4th: Eddies Van

‘Shut. Up. Harrington.’ Eddie says into Steves lips, tugs at the back of his hair and Steve feels his eyes roll back on a moan. 

Nancy used to do that to him sometimes. He doesn’t want to think about Nancy. Eddies hands are bigger, stronger. Nancy seemed to get flighty if Steve ever let go too much, unmoored and untethered, she didn’t like to swim in the deep end. 

They’re in the back of Eddie’s van, Steve leaning against the side, legs sprawled out in front of him, Eddie in his lap. 

He can just hear the the music coming from the house still, its muffled but, they’re not that far, Eddie’s right, Steve supposes. 

He also doesn’t really care. He just wants. Smells varnished wood, and incense. 

‘Make me.’ He goads and his insides light up at the dark fire enveloping Eddie’s eyes. 

‘I knew you’d be dangerous.’ Eddie murmurs to himself. 

Steve desperately wants to know what the fuck that means. But Eddie just stubs his blunt out and pinches the end to save it for later. ‘Hold this’ he taps it against Steve’s bottom lip and Steve opens immediately. Tongue darting out to wet his lips, taste Eddie on them. ‘Don’t let it fall, okay Stevie?’ 

Steve nods, rock hard. An intense, soul crushing need to be good has him clamping his lips tightly around the joint, ear ringing. 

The clack of his belt being undone makes Steve close his eyes and breathe deep through his nose. Eddie palms Steve’s cock over his jeans, eyes hooded and dark. 

Eddies nimble fingers go for his fly, he lifts one of Steve hands to rest on his shoulder. Gets his cock out of his boxers so fast Steve feels himself sink, the van melting away until it’s just Eddie. Just Eddie in his lap and the smell of smoke and ash. Steve holds on for dear life. 

He lets his other hand come to Eddie’s hip, thumb stroking where his t-shirt sits at his waistband, dipping to feel skin. Eddie’s hand on his cock is making him feel desperate, but he doesn’t make a noise, just feels his eyes wet. 

‘That’s it, staying so quiet, take what you need.’ And Steve’s lets his hand roam. He wants to feel, touch skin. He strokes Eddie’s neck, fingers trailing over his torso, searching up under his shirt. Slips his hand around to Eddie’s back pocket and squeezes. Eyes rolling in his head again over Eddie’s lean lines, his sharp edges and soft parts. The hand twisting his dick so perfectly. He’s not gonna last. 

He opens his eyes again and Eddie’s bore into him. Dark and big and eating him whole. His mouth is open, slack, relishing in taking Steve apart. Steve whines weakly in his throat, Eddie’s hand comes up and grabs that handful of hair again, tugging once. 

Steve tips over the edge, spilling into Eddie’s hand. Shuddering through his orgasm with a muffled groan, his hands still squeezing what they can reach of Eddie. One hand under his t-shirt, fingers in ribs, Steve wants to crack Eddie open, reach inside. 

Eddie tucks him back in his boxers. Takes the joint from his lips and places it behind his ear. Steve’s breathing still not back to normal but he leans in for another kiss. Needs to feel tongue and heat and know that this is really real. Really happening. 

That it’s not Steve of ’84 or ’85, that he made it to ’86. That he survived, that he didn’t nail himself on a cross and leave the rest up to fate. That he chose, he offered and took. 

Eddie kisses back holding his jaw with a clean hand and sucking on Steve’s lower lip. Steve goes for Eddie’s fly but his mouth gets pulled off, Eddie pinching him at the chin. 

‘S’all good sweet thing. Can’t cum when I’m crossfaded, mind gets all muddled and I can’t focus enough.’ And he says it with a smile, like it’s no big deal, just a fact. Steve feels his insides churn with need. 

He needs to repay the favour. That’s how, how he can show it. Show how he needs, how he wants. How his hearts is just begging to be ripped out, bloody and still beating. And he can give that over, he can. He wants to. 

Eddie pecks his lips again and moves off of Steve’s lap, tossing the hanky into a corner. 

‘I gotta find Rob first but, uh, you wanna come to mine? Hang out? My parents aren’t home.’ Steve asks, maybe he can still fix this, keep it. His voice is higher than normal, still breathy. He clears his throat, swallows, tries to feel the van under his feet. 

Eddie’s settles across from him, holding his lighter. He looks over with a little lazy smile. ‘Ah, sorry toots, that’s a little too close to romance for me.’ 

Steve tries not to let his cracks show, but he knows his valleys can open, sometimes the maw in his chest can’t be close quick enough. ‘What’s wrong with romance?’ He asks, his bandaged up heart lodged in his throat. 

‘Just not something I do, it’s no stress, I’ll just see you around Harrington, yeah?’ And it’s so casual. So final. 

Steve swallows and nods and checks his fly is done and slips out the back door. Hopes his cracks weren’t too blatant, too ugly. 

He aches. He needs to confess. 

6:15 July 15th: Hawkins General, Room 136

Eddie was finally healing. His blood had been drawn and his skin had been grafted, he’d taken his meds and even attended a couple government mandated therapy sessions. 

He’d admitted in them that yeah, he didn’t trust easy. But no one other than Wayne had shown him they cared with such consistent acts of kindness. Everyone else left him in the dirt. So no, he doesn’t trust easy. 

They’d said you have to give people a chance to be kind to you, and if they do fuck up you’re always within your power to leave. But that sometimes kindness goes both ways. 

Eddie knew that. But that doesn’t mean it wasn’t still terrifying. 

Even more terrifying because Eddie had a face for the kindness. A place he aches to send his own, packaged and pretty and waiting to be unwrapped. 

See, Steve Harrington was kind. Steve Harrington gave Eddie some of his blood, he’d helped the nurses change his bandages once or twice when the staff numbers were too sparse during a shift. Filled his water cup and cut his ugly but actually pretty good hospital meatloaf for him. 

He’d kept Eddie squeaky clean, no chance of being kicked in the dirt, left dead in a ditch, whatever metaphors works best. 

Steve was good. Eddie knew it. He did. But that doesn’t mean he’s not scared. 

Because Eddie wanted to be kind back. He hoped holding Steve’s hand though getting his blood drawn, and letting him nap half curled on Eddie’s bed were enough for now. To let Steve see. See that he always wants to stroke his hair if a nightmare hits, not just when they’re fresh from hell. That he always wants to hold his hand, not just when there’s needles involved. 

It’s actually, like, all the time that he wants to hold it, it’s really bad. Terminal. 

The first time Steve filled his water unprompted Eddie honestly thought he heard a church bell ring, like, how can someone be so good? 

And, even worse maybe, is that Steve Harrington was also a dork. 

A genuinely silly guy. Cracking jokes unprompted just to get someone to laugh, someone to groan which makes someone else laugh. And he sits amongst it, this happy little chaos he’s created, and he beams. 

Eddie thinks about it sometimes. That night in his van, at that random house party he can’t remember. He only remembers Steve, where Steve was, what he was doing, how he looked. Eddie thinks about that. 

Thinks about his face when Eddie said he couldn’t hang out, how he seemed to masking tape himself back together, disappointed and fragile. But Eddie just couldn’t take anything further. Couldn’t risk letting Steve see him. 

Sometimes Steve follows Wayne to the hospital chapel. He doesn’t ask, but he wants to. Wants to know who Steve prays to, what about, why his knuckles are still bruised when most of his other injuries are healing. Why he never talks about his parents. Why he hates the colour red. Where he goes when he zoned out and his whole face mangles into a frown, into an aching maw, Eddie wants to know, if just to help a little, ease his pain. 

Eddie thinks about Steve, as he knew him and as he knows him now. About people being kind, about a therapist saying it goes both ways. And Eddie thinks he wants to be brave. 

For Steve Harrington, Eddie can be brave. 

‘Look what I snuck in for you today, fit for a king, no?’ Steve slips two Yoo Hoo’s from the inside of his jacket. Coming to sit in the plastic chair by Eddie’s bedside.  

(Covered in crochet blankets that Robin brought over the moment she clocked that Steve fell asleep here sometimes. Steve likes to stick his fingers through the holes while they watch tv. Eddie likes to watch Steve’s fingers.) 

He looks tired, Steve, deep purple stains under his eyes. But Robin said he’s brighter when he’s here, knowing Eddie and Max are alive, getting to see them. She said it was like he forgets when he’s not here, ghosts clouding his vision. Maybe it’s just more distracting here. Eddie doesn’t know. He just knows Steve’s here now. That he brought him chocolate milk and that he’s smiling. 

Eddie holds the drink up to the light with two hands, opening his eyes wide, like it’s something holy. ‘Ah, the stuff of angels.’ 

Steve snorts and reaches up to open it for him. Eddie’s heart clenches. 

Steve is kind, and good and brave. Eddie can try and be half that, for Steve. 

He takes a sip, watching Steve do the same. ‘This kinda reminds me of eggnog.’ He muses, heart rate picking up. 

‘I’m not putting whisky in it Eddie, Wayne would skin me alive.’ Steve says, flat. Beaming when Eddie snorts. He’s so wide open, so eager, and bright. 

‘I know that.’ Eddie says. ‘Just, I guess it’s you then, reminding me, of eggnog.’ He tries, hiding behind his riddles.

Steve looks confused, glancing between their drinks and Eddie’s face. 

He needs to spell it out, Steve deserves his plain honesty, Eddie takes a deep breath. 

‘I’ve been thinking.’ Eddie starts. 

‘Dangerous’ 

‘Shhh!’ Eddie fights down a grin. This is serious. He, ugh. 

‘I’ve been thinking about uh, changing opinions’ Eddie tries again, folding his hands in his lap and squeezing the pads of his fingers with his nails. 

‘Oh yeah?’ Steve’s still wide open, still pleased and bright. 

‘Yeah, first is that maybe, ah, maybe I do want to try romance. Now, actually.’ Eddie forces. Holding his breath. 

Something flickers across Steve’s eyes. half hopeful, half guarded. He turns his head, but his eyes stay trained on Eddie. 

Eddie flounders, for a second. Aware suddenly of where they are, how this is maybe not the most romantic place to talk about it. Them. But, Eddie also doesn’t want to wait any longer. He’ll be able to leave soon, he just, he wants. Needs Steve to know, before everything changes again, while he’s between worlds and mostly healed and Steve it here. Steve was smiling. 

‘Maybe I’ve found someone who, who deserves it.’ Eddie takes a deep breath. ‘Who I couldn’t be there for before, but I want to be here for now.’ 

Steves eyes soften ‘Oh.’ he whispers, fighting down a smile, looking down at his lap. He fidgets, pulls at his jacket, takes another swig of his drink. 

He moves his chair closer to Eddie. Won’t look him in the eyes but he grabs Eddie’s hand that’s sitting on top of the bedsheet, linking their fingers together.

‘Wheel of Fortune’s almost on’ Steve’s says, looking ahead, still not letting his smile fully bloom. He’s squinting. It’s ridiculous. 

Eddie grins. ‘Yeah, right right, of course’ He squeezes Steve’s hand and grabs the remote. Vows to not let go unless he has to, vows to keep Steve safe, help his bruises heal. Show him romance and kindness and love. 

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written for Lex’s Spicy Six Winter Challenge! run by @thefreakandthehair and using the prompt: 'spiked eggnog'. it’s finished! ty again for organising!!!

Tag list (open): @pearynice @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @scoops-aboy86 @chickensinrainboots @cheesedoctor @marvel-ous-m

Also tagging: @museumgiftshoperaser @kas-eddie-munson @ellietheasexylibrarian @sofadofax @i-amthepizzaman @estrellami-1

title from 'stick season' by noah kahan (edited slightly to fit better)

[thatdesklamp]

Sometime in Summer, Before 2004

set in ‘intrinsic warmth’ canon, because I needed to write something happy and I thought I should share it <3

Satoru can’t believe you don’t remember when you met him.

“This means you hate me,” he says to you, one day, in the Chapel. It’s mid-July, hot and sticky, and the weight of the heat in the air has made him lazy.

He’s got a white shirt on, and he’s pretty sure he’s got some sweaty patches there—if he was with someone else, Satoru would put in some effort to hide them, because someone else would probably think it was gross, but it’s you, and so he doesn’t need to. He likes that about you: it’s one of the many things he likes about you. You know him so well that he doesn’t care about things like that anymore. After all—Satoru flattens his hair down over his forehead—you don’t care about his new haircut, which he hates more than anything anywhere at anytime ever.

Satoru’s lying on his back with his hands behind his head, staring up at the ceiling with hazy eyes. His sunglasses are crooked on his nose, and he pushes them up.

A few days ago, he’d used Limitless to try to throw a pillow at you, but he’d overshot it and accidentally blown a hole in the ceiling. He does feel bad, just a little, mainly because you haven’t stopped talking about how cold the winters are going to be. Satoru would like to tell you that you can just get close to him for warmth, but he hasn’t mentioned it because he’s such a good friend.

He thinks about that, maybe more than he should. He would like it if you could get over your whole touch thing, because he wants to be able to touch you. Sometimes, in the winter, he’ll see you shivering on your own, this huge divide between the two of you, and he just wants to put his arm around you and stop you from being so cold.

You’re always telling him how much of a heat radiator he is—my space heater, you say sometimes, which Satoru likes, because he likes it when you say things to him like that, like you’re staking a claim on him, that he’s your best friend, and it’s not only that you’re his—and so he figures that you should just shuffle closer sometime, and it’d be fine. Satoru hasn’t ever really touched you, and so he doesn’t know what it’s like: and he knows nearly everything in the whole world, so he wants to find out what it’s like at some point.

“You hate me,” he says again, when you don’t respond to him. Satoru looks over at you, pouting. “Why do you hate me?”

You’re cross-legged, leaning against the wall of the Chapel, flicking through a Vogue magazine. You roll your eyes and tut.

“I don’t hate you.”

“Yes, you do.” Satoru makes a big display of being really, really sad. He does this sometimes, because sometimes it’ll prompt you to say something a bit more overt, in terms of your friendship with him.

Satoru tells you all the time how much he likes you, how much of a good friend you are to him, how cool you are and how amazing you both are—but you’re more reticent with your feelings, and so he has to treasure every single time you say something like that.

He doesn’t think you know that he does it on purpose, but at the same time, you have these crazy psychic powers that you can always find things out about him. Satoru often thinks that you can read his mind—you can just look at him, and you know exactly what he’s thinking. It’s kind of spooky, but he’s okay with you having those superpowers, if it’s just you.

And it’s not like you’re going to use it for anything bad. You’re too cool to do that, and you like him. Which is really cool. You like him.

Except he’s pretending you hate him, which is funny.

“I don’t,” you say. You stop reading the Vogue—success! Satoru has claimed your attention—and start fanning yourself with it. “I just don’t remember everything in the world, Gojo.”

“It’s not everything in the world! It’s the first time we met. That’s important!”

“I remember the second time we met. That was more impactful, anyway.”

“How?” Satoru doesn’t understand that at all. “But you’d just met me! How was that not impactful?”

“I didn’t know you’d want to talk to me again,” you say, shrugging. “So, when you did, it was surprising. That’s what I remember.”

Satoru makes a face, scrunching up his nose. “Of course I’d want to talk to you again.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“Course I would!” Satoru groans and then sits up, making a heaving sound. He pushes his glasses into his hair and pulls up the bottom of his shirt to wipe his sweaty face. “Agh. Too hot. Too hot, and you don’t remember when we first met, and I’m too hot!”

He looks over at you, feeling a bit petulant. You’ve stopped looking at him, and you’re focusing back on the magazine. You’re not even reading it properly—he can tell, since your eyes aren’t moving. Weird. Satoru groans again, to get your attention back, and you press your lips together.

“Hebi-Hebi,” he says. “Hey. Hey. Look at me. Look at me.”

You do. Satoru grins.

“You’re so mean to me,” Satoru says, and he rolls over to his stomach to get a bit closer to you. “So mean. How are we going to celebrate our best-friendiversary?”

You choke. “What?”

“It’s a thing,” he says, grin widening. “I’m pretty sure it’s a thing. When we became friends!”

“Shouldn’t that be when we became best friends?” you ask. You tilt your head against the wall, seeming to actually consider it. “There’s a difference between a friendiversary and a best-friendiversary, surely.”

“Oooh. Yeah, maybe.”

“So we should remember a date for our best-friendiversary instead.” You hum, thoughtful. “That would be nicer, since that’s more important.”

“So you’re saying we’re best friends?” Satoru asks, goading.

You raise your eyebrows. “Of course we are.”

You say it like it’s obvious. Satoru feels all glowy inside.

“Of course.” Satoru drags out the words, feeling how it sounds in his mouth. “Of coouurse. Of course we are! And you know what?”

“What?”

“Best friends,” he says, waggling his eyebrows at you, “should remember when they first met!”

You blow a burst of air through your lips, clearly pretending to be unamused. For all of your psychic superpowers about figuring out his thoughts, Satoru thinks he can read you pretty well too. It’s funny when you pretend to be all aloof and not like him, when it’s obvious that you actually really really do.

“You’re so annoying,” you say to him. Satoru laughs, and your lips twitch.

Ha-ha! Another success!

Satoru likes it when he can make you smile. It doesn’t happen all that often at all, and so when he manages it, it’s a huge success. It’s one of the best feelings in the world, he thinks, when he can make you smile. It’s only trumped by the times when he can make you laugh, which then is only trumped by the times you call him by his first name.

Satoru is Satoru, but you only ever call him Gojo. Which, yeah, is his name, but it’s also his name to everyone else—everyone else in the world thinks of him as Satoru Gojo, from the Gojo family, heir to the Gojo technique, which is really cool sometimes, but also really annoying and kind of not cool.

But to you, he should be Satoru. You’re the only person that he’s ever met that he’d want to call him Satoru. And so, when you don’t, he feels strange. You tell him often that he needs to get used to not always getting what he wants, but Satoru doesn’t think that he should have to, not really. In his opinion, everything would be better if he could get what he wanted all the time.

“So mean to me,” Satoru says again, without much gusto, because the day’s getting even hotter and he can’t really summon the energy to play out your usual routines.

You seem to be getting tired, too. You’re watching him with a funny look on your face, but your eyelids are drooping and you keep blinking all slowly, the way you do when you’re sleepy.

“Sure,” you say, yawning.

“Can’t believe you admit it.”

“Mmhm.”

“Can’t believe—” Satoru stifles a yawn: he caught it from you. “—that you don’t remember. I remember, Hebi-Hebi.”

“You should tell me, then.” You shuffle down until you’re lying next to him. You’re on your side, looking at him with a faint smile playing across your lips. Satoru feels glowy again. “Remind me, about the first time we met.”

“Should I?” Satoru asks, not caring about hiding his smirk. “Would you like that?”

“Maybe.”

“Then,” Satoru says, as he turns onto his side too, so you look like two mirror images of each other, if someone was looking down from the Chapel ceiling, “I’ve just got to, haven’t I? If you’d like it, then I’ve got to do it.”

Your lips press together, and then all of a sudden you’re smiling, big and wide, the way you barely ever smile in front of him. Satoru feels his stomach swoop. He loves it when you smile. My best friend, he thinks. Mine.

“I guess you have to,” you whisper, and you’re almost shy, almost hesitant. You know that you don’t need to: Satoru, surely, by now, has made sure of that. He’s spent his whole life trying to make you happy, all of his life that he’s enjoyed living. He doesn’t think that there’s anything he wouldn’t do for you, if you wanted him to. He’s certain you know that by now.

“Then I will.” Satoru brings up a hand between your bodies, and he loves how you don’t move away from him, the way you do to everyone else. You trust him, more than anyone in the world. This is what he loves, too: just as much as you are his favourite, he is yours.

Satoru rests his head on his arm, and settles in for a story; you’re watching him, with soft, affectionate eyes, and he is more happy than he ever has been. He keeps thinking that, when he’s with you. And, every time he sees you, he thinks it again. Here you are, listening to him, devoting your attention to him wholly, and you’re the best person he’s ever known.

“So,” Satoru says, so determined to keep your eyes on him, to keep your focus for ever and ever and ever, “it was a few months before my seventh birthday, and I didn’t know that I would be meeting my favourite person in the world.”