#also: Catoru | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

seeingivy · 7 months

Text

the met gala

actor!eren x f!reader

**part of my method acting series

content: the end contains some possibly triggering content. toxic man moment/unsafe situation so dni and protect ur peace if you need to.

an: fan service to the highest t. you want laufey? i'l give you laufey. you want sukuna? ill give you sukuna. did you ask for catoru gojo? no but i'll give it to you anyways. and the end is a nice yummy lil eren little fdklsfjdksljfkdlsjfkdsjk. also I changed real life met gala lore idgaf if they don't do real perfomances there bc they do now

songs mentioned: death of a bachelor by panic at the disco, seven by taylor swift, promise by laufey, and dorothea by taylor swift

previous part linked here

Eren waits for it in nervous anticipation. Because despite everything Hyla and Lana say, he knows for a fact that you won’t be staying silent. That Danny and Sareen wouldn’t let this slide and neither would you.

And it eats at him while he waits for the real response, beyond that video Connie posted of you, Mikasa, Connie, and Jean dancing to Girlfriend and your tweets about how much you loved the song.

He’s positive that a forty second video can’t be all you’re doing. People loved it and thought it was funny. But surely that can’t be it.

“I can’t believe all your friends sided with her. I thought you were close with Connie.” Lana mentions.

“I was. Before you did that.” Eren responds, clenching his jaw. He can feel anger surging through his blood, every minuscule fraction of frustration building even more - like it had been for the past three days since the awards show.

It's irritating how quick things crumble down. He figures this is what Sukuna was talking about. Because the last time he talked to Connie was when Mikasa called him and it was nothing short of irritating.

Eren’s phone rings in the middle of the night and he’s nearly scrambling out of his bed because he thinks it’s you. Nine hours after the awards show and you’ve finally gotten the chance to respond.

Except he sees Mikasa’s name flashing across the screen, accompanied with her contact picture which is you and Mikasa sleeping.

“Mika? What’s wrong?”

“What the fuck is wrong with you Eren?”

“Mikasa. Okay, I can ex-”

“You can explain? You can explain why you just humiliated Y/N in public? Are you serious?”

“I-I know it’s bad and she hasn’t picked up my calls and-”

“Eren. Is there something wrong with you? Because I don’t even recognize you right now. You would never do something like this, let alone to her of all people.”

“Did you just call me to yell at me Mikasa? You don’t think I feel bad enough about it already? You don’t think I would have stopped it if I had any idea it was going to happen?”

He hears the line get quieter and Mikasa murmuring over the phone, only to be met with Connie talking to him now.

“Hi Eren. It’s Connie.”

Eren sighs, the fact that Mikasa’s so put off she won’t even talk to him sitting wrong with him all together.

“Hi Con.”

“You okay, man?”

“Yeah. Yeah, is she okay?”

“Mika? You know her, she gets mad so fast and-”

“Not her.” Eren whispers.

“Oh. No, no that’s why we called. She won’t talk to any of us. We called to see if you would know what to do because we’re coming short on ideas.”

The words die on Eren’s tongue. The first line of defense when you get like this is always him, because he can always get you to talk.

Could always get you to talk.

“You tried Levi?”

“Yes.”

“Her brothers. You need to fly Falco and Colt out now. I’ll pay for the tickets. Get the shin ramen from the store, it’s her comfort food - put half of the spice packet in because she can’t eat it too spicy, make sure you boil the egg for six minutes because she likes it when it’s still a little runny, and chop ONLY carrots and green onions for the vegetables. And put on Spy Family, it’s her favorite show. Her favorite episode is nine, I think. It’s called Show Off How In Love You Are. ”

“Okay, that’s all great man. Really. Thanks.”

“Connie?”

“Yeah?”

The thought crosses his mind so fast and suddenly he's asking it.

“Do you hate me?” Eren asks, the whisper in his voice sounding so pitiful that he’s almost embarrassed.

“No, Eren. I could never. Just, I have to be here because she needs us right now. You get that.”

“No, no I do. Take care of her, please. Tell me how it goes.”

“Yeah man. Sure.”

Connie hangs up and the guilt eats at Eren.

Eren hears the resounding pounding of footsteps - only to be met with Myka, Hyla, and two other people he’s literally never seen before - standing in his bedroom.

The first thing he learned quickly about filming with these people? They have no concept of personal space or time.

“What?”

“Ricky and Y/N. They made a music video. Put it on.” Myka states, the group of them crawling onto Eren’s bed as he starts pulling up the video.

The thumbnail already has him sick to his stomach. It’s you kissing Ricky’s cheek. The video starts with you and Ricky’s hands, playing the piano together, and it takes Eren all but three seconds to realize that this is the horrible, gut-wrenching response he was waiting for.

His first cue? Not only are the two of you playing the piano together, but you and Ricky are wearing matching, beaded bracelets with each other’s names on them. Like the ones you and Eren have, the one he keeps on him at all times.

The camera pans up to the two of you and Ricky starts singing, which earns him a nice list of profanities from Lana at his side.

Do I look lonely? I see the shadows on my face People have told me I don't look the same Maybe I lost weight I'm playing hooky with the best of the best Put my heart on my chest so that you can see it, too I'm walking the long road, watching the sky fall The lace in your dress tangles my neck, how do I live?

His second cue? The dress you’re wearing in the video, the one with the lace, is one he knows all too well.

“Okay so, Eren. I have to find a dress to wear for the album premiere tomorrow. And it's my first album and it's special and I want it to be perfect. Something kind of soft and casual, since it’s just going to be just fans. Can you help me pick?”

Eren nods as he flops back onto the soft plush of your bed, eyes focused on all the little pictures and knick knacks littered over the walls of your childhood bedroom. Participation awards for sports, signed letters from your teachers, and pictures of you and Colt doing karaoke.

“Ew, Eren. Don’t look at those.”

“What do you mean? You were such a cute baby.”

Eren hopes your kids don’t inherit your messy hair genes as you walk up to his side and look at the picture - of you and Colt with little pink microphones in your hand and the little plastic crown on your head.

“You know, you still do that.”

“Do what?”

“Everyone else holds the microphone at the top, their fingers nearly wrapped around the wire. You’re like the only person I know who holds it at the bottom - like you’re doing in the picture.”

You roll your eyes as you gesture to the dress, asking for his opinion. Eren stands up, grabbing you by the wrist, to spin you around in the air. And he loves the sound of your laugh and how you berate him immediately after.

“Eren. Be serious. What do you think?”

“Perfect. Wear this one.”

“But it’s black - it doesn’t really fit the vibe that I wanted to go with.”

“Good point. No one should see you in this but me. Try another one on.” Eren states, placing a kiss on your neck before walking over to your bookshelf.

"You're no help." you whine.

"I'm biased. You look good in everything, sweetheart."

He’s running his hands against the spines of your books, clearly bent and broken from reading them so much as you try on the next dress.

“Love?”

“Hm?” your voice comes out, all muffled from the sound of the closet door.

“How many times have you read the Goblet of Fire? This spine is demolished.”

He feels your limbs wrap around his neck and a kiss on his cheek as you lazily murmur into his skin.

“Lots. Cedric Diggory was my first love.”

“Oh? Really?”

Eren turns around and makes it a point to pointedly glare at you, which you return with the sweetest, cheesiest of smiles as you tease him on.

“Oh, of course. I’ve always had a thing for Hufflepuffs.”

“Would you look at that? I’m a Hufflepuff too.”

“No, you’re not. You’re a Ravenclaw, Eren.”

“I was expecting you to say Slytherin.”

“No, I feel like that’s a cop-out answer. You’re intelligent, creative, and clever. Ravenclaw.”

Eren smiles as he brings his hands down to your wrists again, spinning you in the air again. He brings his hands up to your hair to tuck your hair behind your ears before responding.

“Nope. Very pretty, but too formal for something small like this.”

“I appreciate the honesty this time, mon chéri. I only have one more, so it better be the one.”

Eren leans forward, pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

“What was that for?”

“I love it when you speak French to me.” he whispers.

Eren watches you roll your eyes as you disappear into your closet again. He settles into the seat at your desk, flipping through the song lyrics in your bound notebook.

And he doesn’t miss the polaroids you have taped into certain pages - the one of the two of you at the vow renewal on your invisible string page and one of him at the piano on the New Year’s Day page.

“Okay, Eren. Good?”

Eren turns around to find you shyly smiling at him, hands tucked behind your back. It’s a soft white dress, with a lace neckline. Eren thinks it makes you look like an angel. He makes it a point to stand up just so he can push you onto the bed behind you and lean right over you.

“Eren.”

He leans forward and starts peppering kisses all over your cheeks and your face, leaving longer lingering ones in your neck that leave you in a fit of nervous giggles and saying his name so softly it only sets him off more.

“It should be illegal-”

Kiss.

“To look like this.”

Kiss.

“You’re doing this on purpose.”

Kiss.

“Doing what?”

“Trying to drive me crazy, love.”

“Am not, Eren. It’s just a dress.”

“It’s never just a dress with you. Be serious, Y/N.”

He watches your eyes go wide, a soft pink dusting your cheeks. Your hands are resting on his face and he swears they’re shaking, your arms trembling along with them. Eren brings his hand to your cheek, softly brushing across the skin once.

“Hey. What is it?” he whispers.

“You said my name.”

“I say your name all the time.”

“No, no. You always call me love or sweetheart.”

“Do you like it when I say your name, Y/N?”

He watches the blush spread across your cheeks again as you nod, the sweetest smile on your face.

“I like how you say it. Y/N.”

“I love your name. Though, it’s missing something.”

He watches you frown, the confused look spreading across your face.

“What’s that?”

“My last name at the end.” he responds, pressing a kiss to your lips.

“Ew, Eren. That was so corny.”

He brings his hands down to the side of your dress, where the zipper lies and starts pulling down. He watches the shock spread on your face, immediately pulling back.

“Are you crazy? Falco and Colt are still here even if my parents aren’t.”

“Falco is sleeping over across the street. And Colt is definitely at a party and pretending not to be. Who takes limes and salt to a study session? He definitely needs those for the drinks, silly girl.” he responds, sliding the dress off your shoulders and burying his face in the crook of your neck, leaving lazy kisses all over your skin.

“Eren.”

“Hm?”

“Chelseaiswatching.” you murmur.

“Huh?”

“Chelsea is watching.” you whisper.

“Who the fuck is Chelsea?” he asks, the panic laced in his voice.

You point over his shoulder and he immediately rolls his eyes when he sees her, bringing his hands up to pinch your cheeks.

“Are you being serious? You can’t kiss me back because your stuffed animal is watching?”

“Eren. It’s weird, I’ve had her since I was a kid. And my dad bought her for me.” you whine.

“And you think she’s going to narc on you?”

“No. It’s the principle, Eren! Don’t do inappropriate things when kids or kid-like things are present.”

Eren stands up, making it a point to pick up your stuffed animal and bury it in the back of your closet before he returns, hands on his hips.

“Okay. Anything else? Do I need to put tape over your posters of Loid Forger doesn’t watch us doing it?”

“Now that you say it, it’s actually-”

“Too bad.”

And well after being tangled in the sheets together, Eren pretends not to be offended when you pull on a hoodie and immediately get out of bed and reach for your notebook and your pen instead of cuddling with him after.

You crawl back in the bed next to him, where he immediately rests his head in your lap and starts groaning. You reach forward to push the messy hair out of his face and make a mental note to cover up the purple skin on his neck later so Colt doesn’t hang you at the cross whenever he comes back.

“Did I get you that inspired that you can’t hold me right now?”

“Basically. You’re my muse, Eren.”

“What’s the song called, Y/N?”

“Dress.”

“Clever. I wonder what it’s about.” he responds, pressing kisses along your thigh, consecutively going higher with each kiss.

“Eren. Are you serious? It’s only been like ten minutes.” you respond, the nervous jittery feeling growing in your stomach.

“It’s like vitamins. Can’t go without it.”

“Do not refer to it as vitamins. And you can technically go without vitamins, if you’re like really healthy.”

“Quit being a know-it-all. You know I meant like medicine.”

“Eren.” you respond, a warning tone in your voice as you keep scribbling your lyrics out.

“You get two minutes to finish what you’re writing and then I’m throwing that book out the window.” he responds, his breath on the inside of your legs tickling you.

Eren knows you’re trying to drive him crazy and not in the way he likes. And it’s working. And Ricky’s all too agitating singing voice doesn’t make it any better.

The death of a bachelor Oh oh Seems so fitting for Happily ever after (woo) How could I ask for more? A lifetime of laughter At the expense of the death of a bachelor

Eren watches you and Ricky dancing through the streets, while Ricky sings on and on about happily ever after, and he can’t help but slam the computer shut and all but push the group of them out of his room. And when he closes the door, all he can do is cry and hope they can’t hear him.

You peek out the window and count seven black cars and fourteen different people standing on the block, anxious faces craning up with shining black cameras in their hand. You feel a hand on your shoulder and know the ice cold hands can only be Ricky.

“Hey.”

“How many?”

“Fourteen.” you groan, giving him a frown as you yank your shoulder out from under his hand and walk past him.

You head to the vanity, where you’re going to place your last finishing touches on your outfit. Ricky’s quick to follow and lean into your space, with a smirk pressed on his face.

“Ricky.”

“Yes, babe?”

“Ew. Do you need something? Or are you all up in my space for fun?”

“For fun! You smell really good.”

You make it a point to lightly shove him back, which you both laugh at as you clip on the sparkly necklace, making it a point to not move suddenly at all from this moment forward.

It would be infinitely embarrassing if you ripped the first designer dress you wore. Especially when you have to return it later.

Ricky swings his hand around you from the back and holds a cupcake in front of your face, a glimmering blue candle lit in the middle. You give him a questioning look in the mirror.

“Baby’s first Met Gala!”

You snort as you blow out the candle, taking it from his hands and pulling the wax out.

“You’re welcome, by the way.” Ricky says.

“For?”

“The cupcake! And getting you invited to the Met Gala.”

You smack his shoulder, giving him your angriest look, before you both laugh.

“You’re a prick. I got invited all on my own.”

“Yeah, yeah. Keep telling yourself that.” he responds, sarcastically.

“What flavor is the cupcake?”

“Chocolate.”

“Eh. I like vanilla.” you respond, swiping the frosting off the top with your finger. But before you can lick it, Ricky reaches for it first and swipes it right off your finger.

“I mean, I was going to eat that, Ricky.”

“I only like the frosting of the cupcake.”

“Well, I only like the frosting too. Especially when it’s not the flavor of cake I like.”

You hand Ricky the rest of the cupcake and grab your purse as you head out. You press the button on the elevator and both slide in when it opens, the anticipation of the fourteen people waiting outside for you and the hundred more who will be at the event sitting on you. You must be making some weird face because Ricky catches on to it super fast.

“Just relax. It’s just paparazzi, not flying to the moon.”

“I know that. I just feel like I’m not entirely here at the moment. And they’re all going to ask me about Girlfriend and you and Eren and I just-”

You still haven’t encountered the press after the entire thing, despite most of the tabloids writing things in your favor. Because rehashing the worst thing that’s ever happened for you in the two seconds the paparazzi talk to you and have it become a whole convoluted story is not something you’re ready for.

After the entire thing went down, you retreated to your room for one day. One day. With full intentions to mope for the rest of your life, because you would never live this down. And because the entire ordeal was so overstimulating, so stressful that you need to rest.

Until Danny and Sareen dragged you out by the legs and forced you to film a music video with Ricky. Then go to his debut of the song and the music video in Times Square. And then they granted you your beauty rest, but then that stupid voice in your head got the best of you and you couldn’t help but watch what everyone said about the entire thing after the event.

People thought the entire Girlfriend thing was really tasteless. Because it was. Ricky did a bunch of interviews, where he just talked you up and how the entire thing was ridiculous in his opinion. They thought it was sweet of Ricky to come to your defense with Death of a Bachelor and that your official debut as a couple was one for the books.

You’ll take a win where you can get one.

Everyone sided with you, which was nice. Fans wise but also from your real friends. Connie, Marco, Mikasa, and Jean were at your side the entire time, which you appreciated.

Connie was the one that convinced you that “you had the opportunity to do the funniest thing ever” and filmed a video of you, Jean, Mikasa, and him dancing to Girlfriend and posted it.

Which was your favorite part of the entire thing, not because of the song, but because they were there for you through the entire thing. That Connie could make something mortifying funny for you. A bad memory a good one. A true testament to his support.

Unlike some people. People’s inquisitive eyes leave no stone untouched and now rumors of a fallout between you and Historia are flying around, when she’s the only one to not publicly come to your defense. And you get it, she doesn’t have to. What you don’t understand is why she won’t return any of your calls.

Ricky reaches down and grabs your hand, locking his fingers in yours as he gives you a smile, bringing you back down from the thoughts.

“I won’t leave you, okay? Danny and Sareen said I should handle all those questions anyways.”

“And if Lana comes up to me?”

“Spit in her face. She’s really annoying.”

“And if Eren comes up to me?”

“I’ll give you a big kiss.”

“Ew. Don’t do that.”

“I love it when you act disgusted by me.”

You snicker as the elevator rings and the door swings open. You’re immediately flooded with a mound of flashing lights as Ricky grabs your hand and drags you through the crowd into the fresh air. And it only gets worse outside because not only are the cameras outside bigger, but the reporters are louder.

Are you and Ricky official?

Eren and Hyla are rumored to be dating. Do you have any comments on that, Y/N?

Can you tell us anything about your upcoming record, Ribbons?

Ricky ducks your head into the car first before sliding in himself, tapping on the seat ahead of him as the car speeds off. You let go of Ricky’s hand, wiping the sweat against your dress, immediately freezing when you remember you’re supposed to return it at the end of the night.

“Now was that so bad?” Ricky asks, giving you a winning smile.

“Literally, yes! I wasn’t expecting them to be in the lobby.”

“Cmon, you nailed it. I was there, wasn’t I?”

“Quit trying to flirt, Ricky. You suck at it.” you grumble, which he laughs at.

The car comes to a screeching halt and you give Ricky a weary smile as he walks out first, making it a point to open the door for you on the other side. You wrap your arm around his as you both walk the carpet, giving glimmering smiles every time you walk a few paces.

You make mental notes of those standing on the steps behind you and you catch sight of them. Eren and Hyla, in the center of the carpet. Eren’s lifting his hand to twirl her in the middle, with consecutive clicks from the cameras. And you can see Sukuna right behind them, pretending to gag with Maki and probably ruining all the picutres.

You smile, making it a point to sit with Sukuna later because he’s so wildly unserious that it’s probably the only thing you could tolerate on a day like this. And it would really piss off Eren.

Mikasa and Jean are smiling at you from behind the ropes, Mikasa giving you a sweet smile and mouthing that you look great. She points at a spot towards the left and you nod, signaling that you’ll meet her there after.

Out of the periphery of your eye, you catch sight of it. The giant cat in the middle of the runway. You tap Ricky on the shoulder, pointing it out to him.

“Oh god.”

“At the Met Gala? That’s so unserious.” you respond.

“Ten bucks it’s Gojo.”

“That’s such a lame bet. I know for a fact that’s Gojo. He’s the only type of dumbass to show up to the Met Gala dressed up as a big white cat with blue eyes.”

You both lean closer together, making a point to make sure the paparazzi are taking pictures of you two all close to each other. The head of the cat pops off and surely enough, a very excited Satoru Gojo is now running in circles around in the middle of the carpet. And blocking every girl standing on the side.

You don’t miss Geto standing ten paces behind with Shoko, the two of them very loudly declaring that they, in fact, do not know or associate with that man.

“You owe me ten bucks.”

“I never agreed to that, Ricky.”

Ricky leans forward and plants a warm kiss on your cheek, earning a nice symphony of cooing from the photographers on the other side.

“Oh?”

“We both got it right. So we both get a reward.” he responds, tapping his left cheek.

You roll your eyes as you stand on your tiptoes to give him a kiss on the cheek and consequently wipe your glittery lip gloss off his face after. You give the cameras a smile and wrap your arm around his again as you walk farther down the carpet towards the interviewers.

“Y/N. You look gorgeous!”

“Thank you! So do you.”

“Is there anything you can tell us about your third upcoming album, Ribbons? What’s your favorite track on the album?”

“Thank you for asking! I think Ribbons is a mix of a lot of feelings I’ve had lately - specifically good, warm, and positive feelings. I-I think that being negative is something that’s really easy to do, especially when you’re in my position, but I try to keep my music feeling like sunshine on a nice day, because who likes to focus on the bad when you can just be the good. My favorite track on the album is seven, a song that I’ll be performing inside later today with one of my best, best friends who I wrote it with.”

“That’s sweet. Are any of these positive feelings a consequence of your new beau, Ricky James?”

And right on cue, Ricky’s on your side, tilted eyes glimmering in the camera.

“I know for a fact they are. She loves to write songs about me.”

“That’s a bold statement coming from you, Ricky.” you respond.

“I’m a bold guy.” Ricky responds, giving you a wink.

“Speaking of writing songs, Y/N. How do you feel about songs being written about you? Songs like Girlfriend?”

The reporter looks way too excited at this part now. You look at Ricky before answering, who gives you a subtle nod. The answer you practiced with Sareen and Danny.

“I think it’s flattering.”

“Really?”

Ricky slides his hand around your waist and smiles, finishing off the rest of the answer for you.

“Oh, it’s totally flattering. I mean, I’d be really intimidated if I was comparing myself to someone like Y/N here too. She’s quite literally at the top of her game, in every sense, and it’s easy to feel less than when you’re comparing yourself to a future triple threat. So we get the thought process behind it.”

“Ricky.”

“It’s true, Y/N. Personally, I think they should pick London Boy from her discography as the song selection. But that’s just me.”

You smile at each other as you give the interviewer a polite nod, giving each other a thumbs up as you walk around the floor. You finally get to stop near Jean and Mikasa, who are very obviously already wine drunk, from the way their cheeks are tinted pink.

“Wow, Jean. It hasn’t even been two hours yet.” you respond, placing your hand flat against his cheek to see how much his skin is burning.

“I hate this type of shit.” Jean responds, grumbling.

“Jean. How drunk are you? Don’t tell me you’re imagining cats walking around are you?” you ask, feigning concern.

“Huh? That cat isn’t real?”

“You’re actually seeing cats?!” Mikasa asks, catching on.

“THERE’S A REAL CAT HERE, MIKA. LOOK.” Jean says, pointing at Satoru who is now lying face down on the red carpet.

"Jean."

"Y/N. MIKASA. I'M SO SERIOUS I SWEAR THERE'S A REAL CAT. IT TALKED TO ME EARLIER. IT TOLD ME I SHOULD HAVE DRESSED UP AS A HORSE WITH IT."

“Oh, sweetheart. We should go inside, you’ve had too much. You always do this, Jean.” Mikasa says, shaking her head as she leads him in. Mikasa turns her head over her shoulder and gives you a wink, before she walks straight into the venue.

Geto and Shoko come up to your side after they catch you staring at Gojo - who's now doing the worm in his cat suit on the floor - as they both give you polite hugs. The three of you stand against the wall to watch him take the spotlight away from anyone who was hoping to have it.

“Can you believe you’re married to that guy?” you ask Geto.

“Please don’t remind me. It pains me everyday.”

“He wore the cathead to my house the first day he got it. I was hosting a vigil for one of my neighbors.” Shoko states, placing a cigarette between her teeth.

You snort at the thought of Gojo, in his fully exuberant energy, trotting into a room of people mourning with the cat head on.

Megumi and Yuuta join the group of you as you now watch Yuuji - whose actually dressed in a nicely styled suit - have a dance off with Cat Gojo on the red carpet.

You nudge Megumi in the side.

“Can you believe you’re dating that guy?”

“We’re breaking up.” Megumi responds, earning a laugh from the group.

“I can’t tell what’s worse. The fact that they’re dance battling at the Met Gala or that Yuuji is horrendously losing to Gojo wearing a twelve pound cat-suit.”

“Yuuji losing.” you all respond in unison.

“I think Cat Gojo is going to haunt me in my dreams.” you respond.

“Get this, Y/N. It’s not Cat Gojo. It’s Catoru.” Yuuta responds.

“Don’t tell me he trademarked it already.”

“He did.” they all respond in unison.

"Geto. Shoko. When you burn that thing in the flames of hell, I want a video." you state.

"That's a promise, kid." Geto responds, with Shoko giving an affirmative nod.

You turn to your left to find Ricky standing at your side, with his arm wrapped around John. Historia’s ex-boyfriend. You give the group of them a polite nod as you walk away and join Ricky at your side.

“Y/N. This is my friend, John. He’s been looking forward to meeting you.”

“Hi. Y/N.” you respond, making every effort to emphasize the flatness in your voice.

“John. Nice to meet you.” he responds, holding his hand out which you refuse to touch.

“Play any chess games lately?” you ask, making a pointed reference to Historia’s song.

He glares and you watch the smile on Ricky’s face drop. You give your best, sickly sweet smile as you wait for a response.

“That’s right. You acted in Attack on Titan so you must be friends with Historia.”

“Very good friends.” you respond.

“Okay John, we’re going to go in. I’ll see you in a sec, yeah?” Ricky responds, hands increasingly hard on your biceps as he drags you a few paces away.

“Ouch, Ricky. Get off.”

He’s leaning close to you, whispering in your ear earlier like you two were when Satoru came in, except this is nowhere near as fun as last time.

“What’s your problem?”

“What’s yours? He’s not a good guy, Ricky.”

“I’ve made every effort to be friends with your friends. You could and should be doing the same for me, Y/N.”

“And I will. For your friends who aren’t groomers, Ricky.”

Ricky glares at you before giving you a smile and pressing a kiss to your forehead with the paparazzi so close, before dragging you into the venue with him. You settle into your seat next to Ricky, craning your neck to see where the rest of your friends are sitting, all the way on the other side of the room.

You turn to the girl sitting next to you and whisper in her ear.

“Hi. I’m Y/N.”

“I-I know who you are. I’m a big fan.”

“I’m really sorry to ask you this then. But you see that guy right there, pink hair, those two little scars near his eyes. Could you go and switch seats with him? He’s sitting in between Megumi Fushiguro and Yuuta Okkotsu, so I can at least promise it’s a better seat than this one.”

She looks over and gives you an affirmative nod. You squeeze her shoulder as you watch her stomp over, Sukuna turn back to give you a questioning look, before letting the girl take his seat and striding over to sit next to you with two cups in his hands.

He sits on the chair to your left, making it a point to spread his legs as far as he can on his chair, and glare at Ricky as he sits down.

“What do you want, doll?”

“Nothing. I got bored.”

He shrugs as he places the second cup in front of you, which you pick up. And then immediately spit back up, because it’s just straight vodka.

“Shit. My bad, doll. That’s mine.”

“You’re drinking straight vodka? No chaser?” you ask.

“Imagine doing this shit sober. I’d drive myself half insane.” he murmurs.

You switch the cups and drink yours again, pleasantly surprised by a warm, sweet latte.

“Sukuna. How’d you know?” you ask.

“Eren told me.”

You look over at him, giving him your best glare.

“As if you’d talk to Eren.” you snort, craning your neck to find him on his phone, next to Hyla’s who is fixing her hair.

“We talk. It’s just not pleasant.”

“Yeah. My preferred coffee order is just so horrible to talk about.”

“You wouldn’t believe it. Poor guy mopes about you so much it even makes me depressed.”

Ricky taps aggressively on your shoulder, leaning over into your space.

“I’m going to go sit with John.” Ricky states, angrily.

“Okay?” you respond.

“Okay? That’s it, Y/N?”

“Do you need a formal, written invitation? Or does she need to hold your hand and walk you there so you don’t get lost?” Sukuna responds, glaring at him.

Ricky gets irritated at Sukuna’s response and storms off, which just has Sukuna moving his chair so that you can both prop your legs up on it. You’re both switching off on sharing your drinks - mixing Sukuna’s alcohol with your latte and watching all the performances.

“Are you performing?” Sukuna asks.

“Yeah. With Marco, right before Eren.”

“Real cute. Is it that same fluff shit you always write?”

You smack him hard on the shoulder.

“Asshole. That fluff shit is Multi-Platinum, dumbass.”

“I get that. But I’m saying, you should write something more serious than that. Instead of penting up all that rage in your forehead, you should write it in a song. Quit letting real stupid girls call you stupid in songs.”

“I can’t. My record doesn’t really like the idea of that.” you respond.

“So? You’re the artist and it’s your music. Write whatever you want. Don’t be a chickenshit.”

“It’s not that simple, Sukuna.”

“No. It literally is. You’re just chicken.”

“It’s not about chicken, Sukuna. My record was the one who took a chance on me and to some extent, I have to follow that. And they’ve made me Multi-Platinum so far so who am I to not listen to them?”

“God. You’re pathetic.”

“And you’re an asshole, Sukuna.”

“Do you want to kiss now?”

You reach forward to smack his face, which elicits a laugh from him.

“You never change, do you Sukuna?”

“Best thing about me, doll. You should learn to piss people off like I do. It’ll actually relieve some of that tension. And flirting is good for your health.”

“We can’t all afford to be feather rustlers like you.”

“You could. I’m sure people would eat it up - the whole sweet girl saying her mind type thing. I’ll give you lessons on how to talk your shit sometime instead of letting idiots like that do it for you.”

He points over at Ricky, whose glaring bullets at the two of you. You give him a gesture, which he completely ignores as he turns over to whisper in John’s ear.

“Out of all guys, you had to pick that one? When you tweeted that you were charged with murder, I thought you were being serious and got really excited for a second.”

“Danny and Sareen picked him. That’s not my fault.”

You feel a tap on your shoulder and see the usher, signaling that it’s time for you to perform. You nod and turn to Sukuna, who's already getting up from the chair. He presses a kiss to your cheek before you walk off to the other side where Marco’s waiting.

Eren’s sitting towards the end of the bench, hands pressed under his legs, when he watches you take the stage with Marco, a glittering smile on your face.

And in your billowing, white dress, there’s only one thing Eren can focus on. The fish tattoo, right on display. He instinctively reaches for his own, hidden under the fabric of his clothes, and thinks about how your sweet, flowery smell was always overwhelming, even in a disgusting tattoo parlor.

And when Eren catches sight of Marco at the piano, Eren knows you’re a temptress to everyone and not just him. Exhibit A? You convinced Marco to sing in public with you.

“Hi everyone. My name is Y/N.”

Everyone breaks into a loud applause and Eren thinks that the wolf-whistling in the corner is Mikasa, who he’s convinced is shit-faced by the way her cheeks are glowing pink.

“Thank you. Um, can we just take a minute to give a second round of applause to my sunshine boy, Marco, here? He’s not a big singer and I’ve all but forced him to do this with me, so let’s all give him some love.”

The crowd claps again and Eren knows for a fact that the wolf-whistling this time is Jean, who is actually plastered.

“This song is off my new album, called Ribbons, and it’s called seven. The idea of this song kind of came up randomly. I told Marco that it was kind of sad that I don’t have any of the childhood friends I did when I was a kid anymore. And Marco just responded by saying, ‘what do you mean, we’ve been friends since we were seven?’ And long story short, I jumbled out a nice mess of lyrics with Marco and Armin produced it after that and the song was finished. We hope you like it!”

Marco starts playing a soft piano tune, accompanied by your light strumming on the guitar, and some part of it is so familiar, so you that it makes Eren’s heart ache. Not that Eren’s a big hater of your new, more pop songs like London Boy, but Eren’s always enjoyed your soulful, soft songs like this more.

They remind him of the soft parts of him that you only shared with him, when you used to be next him when he slept at night.

Y/N: Please picture me In the trees I hit my peak at seven feet In the swing Over the creek I was too scared to jump in But I, I was high in the sky With Pennsylvania under me Are there still beautiful things?

Eren fights the urge to snort. Of course, there’s still beautiful things. You’re standing right there.

And Eren knows he’s way too sensitive for this because hearing your soft, echoing voice when he’s about to sing a song about the last time he kissed you has him pushing his face into the table. Because there are tears in his eyes.

Y/N: Sweet tea in the summer Cross your heart, won't tell no other And though I can't recall your face I still got love for you

Marco: Your braids like a pattern Love you to the moon and to Saturn Passed down like folk songs The love lasts so long

When you both finish, Eren watches you give Marco a big hug and a kiss on the cheek as you both walk off together. And then Eren’s trailing up to the stage where Historia’s waiting, the orchestral suite setting up their instruments and he feels his hands shaking at his sides. Historia gives him a smile, which he appreciates as he takes the front stand.

He hates it up here. He knows that flowery scent in the air is you. He manifested it by thinking about it and now it's suffocating him.

You lean against the wall with Marco, hands linked together, as you watch Eren readjust the microphone to his height and Historia sit at the piano. You make a fleeting second of eye contact with her and give her a smile, which she halfheartedly returns.

Eren’s hair is shorter, he’s cut it from the last time you’ve seen him. And he looks kind of tired, though you’re sure you look no better.

“My name is Eren Jaeger. This is my new song, Promise, that I co-composed and wrote with my friend, Historia.”

You lean your head against Marco’s shoulder, who is giving you a warm squeeze on the shoulder, as you listen.

I made a promise To distance myself Took a flight, through aurora skies Honestly, I didn't think about How we didn't say goodbye Just see you very soon

You pinch your eyes shut as you feel the breath constrict in your throat and tears warm in your eyes.

“You okay?”

“It’s Eren. Of course, I’m not okay.” you whisper.

No matter how long I resist temptation I always lose It hurts to be something It’s worse to be nothing with you I’ve done the math There’s no solution We’ll never last Why can’t I let go of this?

As Eren goes on and on, that soft voice that’s lulled you to sleep hundreds of time is haunting you. And Marco’s reflexes to wipe your tears away fast are the only reason that people don’t catch on.

When Eren finishes, his green eyes meet yours and he gives you a painstakingly long look, before walking away.

You don’t see him again that night. Or for a while. You figure it's better that way. Being in the same room but not talking is like nails on a chalkboard.

You lean over the counter, scrolling through the set of pictures Ricky just took, as you wait for the timer on your computer to count down.

Ricky circles his arm around your shoulder, as you both watch the seconds on the timer run out and the little display of confetti go around the screen.

You refresh the tab on your Apple Music and you see it - your name and album cover displayed in bright colors right at the top banner.

“How does it feel?” Ricky asks, watching you refresh your Spotify on your phone and watch the songs turn from grey to white, meaning they're now able to be played.

“Good. I hope Historia calls me after she realizes that dorothea is about her.” you murmur, the notifications on your phone buzzing from Reiner, Levi, and Mikasa. You open Levi's first.

levi: We love the record, kid.

you: it's been out for five seconds.

levi: Just shut up and take the compliment, sometimes.

you: I love you, levi. give kisses to hange. i'll call you guys tomorrow.

“She will. Just relax.” Ricky states, as he watches you push up on the counter, legs dangling in the air after putting your phone down.

He reaches for the lowest drawer, pulling out a dark black box and placing it flat in the palm of your hand.

“What’s this?”

“A gift, before you go on tour. And I wanted to ask you something.”

You nod, encouraging him to go on, as you look at the bracelet - a chain-linked, chunky silver bracelet with a heart charm right in the middle.

“That’s custom made. From Tiffany, because it’s your favorite right?”

“Yeah. Thank you, I really appreciate it.”

“Well, I’m really proud of you. Ribbons is a great record and I’m sure you and I will be competing for Record of the Year in a few months.”

You smile as Ricky leans closer, hands on both of your sides of the counter.

“I think you’re really great. And-and I know we’ve been pretending but some part of this became really real for me and I think it did for you too. So I think we should quit playing around and do this for real.”

You feel your throat dry as Ricky smiles at you, so excited and earnest, that you almost feel bad. For how you’re going to shoot him down.

“Ricky. Oh. Um. Listen. You’re really great. I-I really like you. But I-I don’t know if I can do that right now.” you respond.

“That’s okay. I don’t expect anything from you and I’m willing to be patient and all that. We’ll figure it out.” he responds, yanking the chain out of the box and reaching forward to secure it around your hand.

“Listen. I-I don’t know if it’s all that. It’s just, I don’t. I like you Ricky but not like that. I just can’t do that right now.”

Ricky leans back in confusion, dragging the necklace off your hand as you give him your most sincere smile. And you can’t help but feel bad for not liking him back. When he’s helped you out more times than you can count, with red carpets and defending you when he didn’t have to.

But you can't help these sort of things.

“Listen. I-I can go home. I’ll take the trash and then leave so you can be alone, yeah?”

“Okay. I appreciate that. Thank you for being honest.”

You breathe a sigh of relief.

“Of course. And thank you for taking it well, I still appreciate what you’ve done and have a lot of love for you.” you respond, squeezing his shoulder as you walk past.

You take the half filled bag of trash and walk out to the garage to swing the door open. There’s a decent amount of rain pouring down and you quickly scamper out admist it. You throw the bag over your shoulder and quickly run over to the chute to throw it down before running down to the door.

Except when you reach for the handle, it doesn’t pull down. You jam it down, more aggressively this time as the heavy drops start matting your hair to your forehead. Giving up on the door, you run to the other side and rap your knuckles against the window, where Ricky’s back is still turned.

He turns around and gives you a look, half opening the window.

“Hey. Sorry, I accidentally locked the door on the way out.”

“That wasn’t an accident. That was me.” Ricky responds, glaring at you.

“Huh?”

“That was me.” he responds, again.

“Listen, I can’t really hear you and it’s really cold outside. Can you just let me in?” you ask.

“Sorry, Y/N. I really like you but I just don’t know if I can do that right now.”

"Ricky."

He closes off the window and walks away all together.

You can feel the panic setting in your chest - at the fact that you’re standing in the pouring rain in Seattle and you don’t know where to go. And that Ricky, nice and sweet Ricky, just locked you out.

You hunch over on your knees, yanking your phone out of your pocket to call Mikasa. She picks up on the first call and you can hear her and Jean screaming through the speaker.

“TOP TEN ON THE CHARTS I KNOW THAT’S RIGHT.” they both scream, the sentence going over you’re head.

“Mika. Mika, wait.” you whisper, the tears starting to fill your eyes.

You’re thrown off by the screeching of tires and doors closing and you march over to Ricky’s side door. You lightly crack it open and spot seven paparazzi cars, parked straight on Ricky’s porch.

Meaning. Not only did Ricky lock you out of his house in the pouring rain but he made sure to call the paparazzi so they can catch you the first chance he got. You quickly shut the door and run to the backside of the house, into the back streets by Ricky’s neighborhood. And the panic's starting to make your legs shake.

“Mika. You’re not still in Seattle, are you?” you ask, the panic laced in your voice.

“No, babe. We’re in Tampa right now for Armin and Annie’s thing. We left a few days ago.”

“Do you know anyone who is? This is urgent, Mika.”

You hear Mikasa murmuring over the phone and suddenly Jean’s on the line, his voice more firm and collected than Mikasa’s. You can suddenly hear her panicking in the background, talking to a third voice you can’t identify.

“Marco says your options are Eren or Historia. They’re both still in Seattle, though I think Eren’s closer to where you are. Call us when you’re safe. Immediately, Y/N.” Jean says.

“Okay.”

You can hear the sound of raised voices from the direction you came and you quickly hunch to the side. You try your best to wipe the wetness of your phone as you scroll for Eren’s contact and dial.

He picks up on the first ring.

“Y/N?” he asks, voice raspy like he was sleeping.

And at the sound of his voice, months after the fact, when you’re soaked to the bone in the rain, you can’t help but cry.

“Eren?” you ask, voice breaking.

“Y/N. What is it?” he asks, voice suddenly louder.

“I need your help.”

"Are you okay? Are you hurt?"

"No. No, I'm not hurt, but I could be? I don't know, Eren I-"

“Say the word. What-what is it? I-I’m there. Just tell me what you need me to do, love."

“I need you to come get me, Eren.”

“I’m coming. Stay exactly where you are and on the line with me.”

next part linked here

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

lmk if you want to be added to the taglist by either commenting on this or the masterlist <3

350 notes · View notes