#it’s called method acting sweatie

[maple-unfortunate]

#196 #/r/196 #r/196 #its called method acting sweaty

[predestinatos]

you mean everything - MV1 ೀ⋆｡🌷

summary: max needed a wedding date and you were used to being his fake partner.

tags: max verstappen x fem!reader, fake dating, friends to lovers, max is so whipped, fluff, a bit angsty maybe?, mentions of alcohol

word count: 2k

notes: i've been writing (and thinking) so much about max... my period is coming please give me a break i'm sensitive. also would love to get some feedback if possible so i know if it's worth making a series out of this!!!!

"If you want to make it believable at least hold my hand" you half-whispered to Max, who was buttoning his blazer while getting out of the car, you behind him.

"Sorry, I'm not used to this with you" he said chuckling. His sweaty palm held yours tightly, and the feeling of it was odd. Knowing Max for so long meant that these romantic gestures felt almost cringeworthy to you both, and you both had to put up award winning performances every time you played this game.

The game in question being fake-dating. It started as a funny joke where you both thought it would be great to test out the Get A Champagne Bottle For Free At This Restaurant If You Propose theory (which worked, by the way). From then onwards, you used each other as dates whenever asked by annoying family members, creepy coworkers, or just because you felt like lying.

The talking wasn't hard - you both felt comfortable in that part, lying with words coming off almost dangerously natural - but when it came to acting the part, both of you felt awkward, like kids who found relationships absolutely repulsive.

This time, though, the performance would last longer than usual: it was a wedding. Max's friend's wedding. Max could've just gone along, or bring a friend (even you as a friend). Yet he had told his friend, after one too many shots on his Bachelor's Party, and after being chosen as The Guy Who'll Take the Longest to Settle, that he had, in fact, a girlfriend. His friends didn't believe him, so he showed a picture of you two together - a selfie really, nothing much. And they still said they didn't believe it. So here you are.

You couldn't blame him, even if you wanted to. You agreed to use each other as a fake partner for as long as you could in as many situations as required, although when it all started none of you ever thought it would lead to wedding attendances.

So now there you were, Max's hand on yours, entering the small church. His eyes locked with the groom, who waved and called for you to sit near the altar.

"So you ARE real" he said, nervousness laced in his voice even as he tried to lighten the mood himself. You giggled at the irony of it, nodding as you said your congratulations.

"Just wait until the guys see this" he continued gesturing towards the bench where 3 other men around his age sat. Men you had seen before in some Instagram pictures, men you spent the previous night trying to memorize basic information about so you didn't sound suspicious.

Max's hand now fell on your waist almost instinctively - it wasn't instinctively, he told himself once he noticed its positioning. And if it was, it was only because he took this so seriously, almost as a sort of method acting. Sitting down next to his friends, he noticed how all of them seemed surprised at your presence, and something like pride filled his chest. He loved winning, loved being right even if he was lying; but most especially, he loved how jealous other men seemed to be over the fact that he was (at least in their minds) dating you.

He couldn't deny - though he tried, really - that you two looked good together. His rougher features mixed with your softer ones gave you both an aura of near unreachability, which yes, was pretentious of him to think but he thought nevertheless.

The ceremony was quick and endearing, a smile spread across everyone's faces at the shared loved between the bride and the groom. As the crowd clapped, Max leaned into you, "don't tell me you're crying". "I am, just to think that I'll have to keep pretending to date YOU for the next 10 hours" you replied, his mocking smile recognizing the joke.

The reception hall was beautifully decorated with shades of soft green and violet orchids. Max tried not to think about how much it matched the shade of your dress, how you looked like you had come to life from a classical novel. He tried to feel like anyone but Mr. Darcy as you felt so much like Elisabeth Bennett to him.

Sitting down next to him, you found this part easier - mingling and socializing was something you enjoyed more than he did - especially with alcohol in the mix. It's a wedding, you thought; this is what weddings are for.

So you drank the wine with the main course and sipper champagne to celebrate and ordered a few cocktails when it was time to dance and talk - and you felt it on your body almost as much as you felt Max's hand occasionally sitting on your thigh, but not even close to how strongly you felt his thumb caress your skin as he did so. Truth was, he too was drunk; his eyes looked smaller and his cheeks were flushed, and the amount of times he ran a hair through his dirty blonde hair had caused it to look messier. As you looked at him, you felt he never looks as attractive as when he is like this - loose and carefree, his shirt sleeves rolled up and a smile on his face when he notices people laugh at his joke.

"I have to admit I didn't think it was true" his friend said when Max left to go to the bathroom. He looked drunker than the two of you combined, his words hard to decypher, like a riddle. "He's been talking about you for months now and we never saw you for real so we thought you didn't exist" he laughed, and you laughed back before it registered.

"Months?" you asked him, eyebrows furrowed yet attempting to remain composed. You shouldn't have asked it - a supposedly month old girlfriend wouldn't be surprised but you were his fake month old girlfriend and you weren't understanding it anymore.

"Yeah. He talks about you so much all the time I think even we started to date you" he laughed again, yet this time you didn't find the joke so funny. You were frozen in your seat, merely blinking as if trying to put the confusing puzzle together, the pieces not quite fitting the way you thought they would.

A touch on your shoulder unfroze you, almost like magic, like a disney film come to life. You turned around to find the groom, somewhat sober, smiling at you while also looking somewhat concerned. "He's calling for you... And he's also absolutely wasted" he said, pointing to the door of the hall.

"Shit" you cursed, getting up from your seat at a speed you couldn't believe, worry filling your heart, making you forget the conversation you were just having.

Opening the door to the garden outside, you found Max sitting down against the wall, shirt partly unbuttoned and disheveled hair. When he saw you, he grinned, such genuine happiness laced with tipsiness.

"Lightweight" you mocked as you crouched in front of him, trying to balance yourself on your heels, somehow managing it despite your own drunkness.

"You're laughing at my mis- Shit- my misery" his throat bobbed up and down, exaggerating his own agony with a hand on his chest and another on his forehead like a Shakespeare character.

"I have to admit it's quite fun sometimes" you bit your lip as you fixed his hair as best as you could, hands brushing through its soft, blonde mess.

"You're so– you're so sweet" he said, his words dragged and messy. He brought a beer bottle to his lips but you stopped him before any liquid touched them.

"I think that's enough of that for tonight" you grabbed it and placed it behind you, sitting in front of him.

"See now... Now you're being mean" his hand grabbed a strand of your hair and played with it softly as he pouted.

"Okay big boy I'm gonna get you some water" you say, getting up once again, yet his hand stops you, grabbing your wrist tightly.

You looked at him, startled. His drunken state is visible, and it felt frustrating that you had to be the one sobering up for him. The music vibrated through the wall he leaned against, somehow tickling him, making him giggle.

"Stay," he managed to say, eyes half closed, "I'm so glad we're- Fuck things are spinning so much" his hands rushed to his eyes and his head hung low, "Ah fuck. I'm so glad we're datin- Fuck, no, oops-" he continued laughing despite how sick he felt, the whole situation sounding hilarious when filtered through alcohol.

You giggled along with him, mostly because you wanted to see if you could convince him to move, scared he might feel worse or pass out on the cold floor if he doesn't do so. "Fake dating. Fake dating, I know. I knowww" he continued, his words dragged and his finger pointing at you before poking your nose with such innocent sweetness you were taken aback.

"Max" you tried to sound more assertive but found it hard to do so, your own intoxicated state making the situation lighter than what it actually was. Your heart racing was a symptom of it, one you wouldn't feel if sobriety was an option, you thought. Max's eyes wouldn't seem to stare at you differently were he sober as well, and the way he scanned your features, his gaze staying on your lips for longer than expected, wouldn't affect you in the slightest had you not drank some alcohol.

"I like it when you say my name" he looked up at you innocently, pleading, almost.

"Want me to say it again?" you asked, smiling. You complied with these demands because you knew they were childish whims of an intoxicated man, his happiness a priority in times like these. Upon his nod, you started saying his name, half teasingly, half reassuringly, the leaves rustling in the garden behind you.

"Max... Max!! Max Max-"

He shouldn't. It would complicate things, and he liked when they were simple, clean and organized. He knew he shouldn't even when his whole vision spun and his brain convinced him that he should do things he would never do otherwise. But every time he refrained from saying something he would stumble across all his words and trip and fall and his head would only hurt more, and it seemed as if he could only focus if he kept listening to you and talking to you and looking at you.

The lights shone behind you in a way that made it feel as though he was dreaming, like you were a mirage, too good to be true. Maybe his friends were right - you weren't actually real. He wanted to be sure, in that moment. That you were real and that he wanted you as much as he thought. And though he shouldn't, though it was a terrible idea, he couldn't help but lean over to kiss you.

He tasted like champagne - bubbly and slightly sweet, his movements sloppy given his state, yet you couldn't help but drink it all in. Part of you - a big part - reciprocated the kiss, felt his fingers on the side of your neck, pulling you messily towards him, and tried to steady him, guiding him gently with your own lips.

It was odd, how this felt so right yet the fake hand holding didn't. As Max kissed you, that thought entered his clouded mind - did it feel wrong because it was fake and this was real? Your skin felt so soft, so much softer now he could touch it freely and unapologetically.

"Fuck-" he started, pulling away, his head resting against the wall once again as he stared at you, noticing how it hasn't hit you yet; what you just did, how it affected everything. "I fucking love you" he shrugged as you fixed your hair, pausing with arms raised for a few seconds before smiling softly.

"You're drunk" you replied, looking at his own grin, the gleam in his eyes making him appear both innocent and guilty of so many things.

"I'm drunk and I fucking love you"

"Max..." you started, and he said your name back to you with such tenderness you couldn't believe his lips tasted of alcohol earlier and not something sweet.

"We'll talk tomorrow, okay?" you continued, waiting for the silence to swallow you both.

#max verstappen #f1 #max verstappen x reader #formula 1 #formula one #f1blr #f1 fandom #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #max verstappen fluff #max verstappen x you #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen fic #f1 fluff #f1 x reader #formula 1 x you #formula one x you #formula one x reader #formula one x y/n #formula 1 x reader

[xob1tchs]

(i completely understand if you don’t wanna do this, no pressure babe) but can i have a fic where readers on her period n mentions that apparently orgasms help w cramps (kinda as a joke) but ethan’s more than willing to they fuck??

THANK YOU THANK YOU 🙏🙏

we’ll be so good

fem!reader x ethan landry

warnings; fingering, mentions of blood, period sex, unprotected sex, dirty talk, slight dumbification, pet names (babe, baby, angel) unedited so spelling & grammar errors.

a/n; this is the title inspo, bc ethan is lowk the weeknd coded 🫣 and babe…i can write u anything u want xx

You’re curled up in Ethan’s dorm, face buried in his blanket, body drowning in his hoodie paired with a pair of boy short panties, eyes screwed shut as another wave of cramps washes over you. You groan out in pain, flinching when the door opens, rolling over to see a sweaty Ethan slip inside. He’d left for the gym after his last class, texting you to let you know his dorm room was unlocked, and you’d taken the unspoken offer graciously. Periods are always more manageable when you can cry and whine in Ethan’s bed, earning soft coos and praises in return.

He tugs his shirt over his head, tossing it to the overflowing laundry basket m, before he tugs the door to their wardrobe open “cramps bad again baby?” he questions, riffling through the heaps of close in search of a towel, you hum and he clicks his toungue, sighing “i wish i could help babe” he mumbles.

You hum again, shifting to sit up on your calves, hand between your legs to keep you stable. You let your eyes wander, gaze darkening as you watch the taut muscles in his back flex as he continues looking, and you feel a familiar feeling stir in your tummy “well actually maybe you can” you mutter, head tilting as you recall an article you’d read among your search for more effective methods than pamprin and warm compresses.

He turns to look at you, brows raising in curiosity, tossing a towel over his shoulder. Your fingers anxiously toy with the fabric of sheets, but the ache in your abdomen is over ruling any embarrassment.

“orgasms can help with cramps”

Ethans eyes fall hooded, and he tilts his head at you, lips parting as if he’s about to respond – but only silence fills the air in the room.

Now nerves are setting in, and you feel heat rising up your neck, ready to let the ground swallow you whole “but that’s silly- and kind of gross right? i don’t actu-“

“since you’re on your period does that mean we get to do it raw?”

Your words are cut short, mouth falling open, eyes widening as you watch Ethan toss the towel to the ground; already padding across the room to stand infront of you.

His fingers trail across where your breasts poke through the fabric of his hoodie, to the hem against your thighs, before he’s tugging at it gently — your arms instinctively raising, letting him drop the fabric to the floor “let me help you” he says softly, hand’s cupping your hips, smoothing up your sides, gently skimming over your breasts until the reach your shoulders, squeezing in reassurance

“o-okay” you stutter in a breath, back hitting his mattress with a thump, stomach falling flat against your rib cage as his fingers wonder down your bare skin the the hem of your panties “but- i can take these off” you grip his wrist, eyes widening at the thought of your boyfriend taking your period diaper off.

He chuckles, to strong for you to to keep in place, fingers hooking in the elastic of both your panties and the dark material of your so called period panties, tugging them both down with a shake of his head, letting them fall to the floor by his feet “you act like i don’t change the trash when you’re on your period – stop over thinking” he mumbles, fingers trailing down your pelvis, reaching the best between your legs, pulling your lips apart revealing your pussy to his view.

he sucks in a breath, pressing his thumb to your swollen clit, cooing when you squirm under the pressure “should I prep you? stretch this little pussy out with my fingers? hmm?” he mumbles, fingers already trailing down your folds, teasing your core.

You feel heat spread across your face, face turning to look away from him, hips twitching when he slips it in to the first knuckle, curling as he toys with your aching walls “tell me you want it baby” he tsks, chuckling at your poor attempt to slink down, hoping for his fingers to plunge inside of you.

“I-i want it e” you whine, blinking away any self doubt, lips parting in a frown.

“that’s good baby” he hums, stuffing three fingers in at once prompting you to whine out, jaw falling open at the sudden stretch, pussy walls contracting around him. Crooning out a praise “so tight, always” you gasp at his words, hips jerking when he spreads his fingers, stretching you open.

Your back arched off the bed when his thumb presses to your clit, rubbing in harsh circular motions, your thighs clamping around his wrist “feels good” you cry, thighs resisting as he pushes at the, burning from his strength as he forces them wide open.

“you’re so sensitive, so cute” he smiles down at you sweetly, eyes shining with adoration as he watches you writhe below him,. His smile on widens when he slips his fingers out and you cry his name, pleading for him to keep going, he ignored you, fingers gripping the waist band of his sweats, staining them with the maroon liquid coating his fingers. They fall to his ankles, underwear not found – that makes you clench around nothing, eyes round and amazed when his cock stands straight up against his pelvis, tip below his belly button.

He grips his cock around the base, hips rolling forward to tease his tip against your cunt, ghosting over your clit; gathering a mix of wetness and blood “ready for me baby?” he mumbles in a gentle tone, cock slipping past your lips, protruding at your whole softly.

You whine, skull digging into the mattress, legs spreading impossibly wider “yes yes, please I’m ready” your answer is punctuated with a swift thrust, cock plunging into you in one motion, pussy stretching around him with a delicious burn.

You grips the meat of your thighs, tugging ass a little over the edge of his bed, before he pulls almost completely out save for the tip, and thrusts back in, quickly setting a fast and deep pace.

He fucks into you, balls slapping against your ass loudly, your arousal and blood creaming out around the base of his cock, dripping to stain the carpet. Your hands grip his comforter and sheets harshly, eyes rolling to the back of your head, mouth hanging open as a never ending string of moans and whines flee free. He’s completely sheathed on your cock, gummy and swollen walls clenching around him with a death grip, swallowing his cock back up with every thrust.

You always enjoy sex with Ethan, but the period hormones have gone straight to your pussy, creating an immense pleasure, mind muddled with the thought of Ethan and his cock, fucking you until you can barely breath. You croon, eye lids fluttering as you struggle to keep your eyes open, palm reaching to press against his abdomen “it’s too much, it’s-it’s! I’m gonna cum babe, e please” your words slip out a jumbled mess, eyebrows frowning as Ethan fucks into you even harsher, dark eyes focused on the way drool has begun to slip past the corners of your mouth.

His hand trails flatly down your thigh, until his fingers reach your pussy, and his fingers begin to toy with your clit, making you cry out in shock “that’s right baby, cum for me, want you screaming on the cock angel” he practically growls, a chuckle following when you gasp out, breath falling silent as your real ease washes over you, your hips twitch and jerk, pussy gushing mixed wetness around him, making an absolute mess as he makes shallow and gentle thrusts, fucking you through your high.

When you come down, you swear you’re seeing stars, mind a mess as Ethan pulls out, man handling you into a straddling position sitting; sitting you back down on his cock, causing your over stimulated pussy to clench and spasm “threes the charm yeah? know you can give me more than that” he kisses your temple, and you can only slump forward into his chest, humming in a mindless agreement.

#scream iv #scream 6 #ethan landry smut #ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry x you #scream smut #🖤 ; lex talks 2 anons! #my inbox 🫧

[golden1u5t]

first, i wanna say i love your work!! it’s so good and even if this request gets lost in the sea i wanna first say how good ur writing is!!

can u do one where reader is in the bau and really stressed out and s2 spencer-ish tries to help her out and he’s being so cute! also if u wanna add some smut about him telling her that he wants to make her feel good 🙇‍♀️💁‍♀️

this post is 18+

you and spencer were sharing a hotel room for the duration of the case. you sat on the end of your bed with your head in your hands, you were extremely stressed out and spencer's constant talking wasn't helping you in the slightest bit.

"for god's sake- spencer, please shut up!" you sat up and looked over at him. you were immediately filled with guilt when you saw his face, he looked like you'd just told him you killed his pet fish. "i'm sorry, spence. fuck- i'm sorry, i'm just really stressed out right now."

you turned back around and fell back on your bed, you put your hands over face and sighed. spencer got off of his bed and stopped in front of you, you took you hands off his face a stared at him with a confused expression on your face.

spencer swallowed the lump in his throat and looked down at his fingers, he wanted to help you relax but the only method that stuck in his head was to give you an orgasm. spencer had liked you for a while now but he was too scared to ever admit it or act on it.

"spencer, what are-"

it was now or never.

"did you know that or- uh- orgasms can help rel-relieve stress? they release the-these hormones called dopamine and oxytocin. it's been prov- um- proven that they do help release stress." he looked back at your face, his skin was coated with a deep blush.

you sat up and tilted your head, you couldn't believe that spencer was actually in front of you telling you about orgasms. "what are you trying to say, spence?"

he wiped his sweaty hands over his pants and lowered himself on his knees in front of you. he looked up at you and put his hand out but dropped it back into his lap.

"i-i want to help- help you, make you feel bet-better. please?" he mumbled. you smiled down at him and ran your fingers through his hair, spencer leaned into you and looked up at you with pleading eyes.

you hummed and nodded your head. "okay, baby. go ahead, make me feel better."

you laid back on the bed and sighed. spencer unbuttoned your jeans and pulled them down your legs, along with your panties. he put your legs over his shoulders and pulled you to the edge of the bed.

he whined when he saw your cunt, he didn't waste any time with leaning forward and using his tongue to swipe through your folds. his eyes closed when he tasted your slick, he used his thumbs to spread your folds so he could wrap his lips around your clit.

you let out a shaky breath and moved your hand back into his hair, you crossed your legs behind his head to keep him from going anywhere. spencer shuffled forward to bury his head further into your cunt, he let go of your clit and started to press his tongue into your hole.

"fuck, baby. you're doing so good for me." you gasped. the praise only pushed him to do more, he pushed his tongue all the way inside of you and used his fingers to play with your clit. spencer’s whines vibrated through your body and help you to get closer to your orgasm.

your grip on his hair tightened and you pulled him further into your cunt. your arousal gushed out into spencer’s mouth with each thrust of his tongue and he absolutely loved it, he was drunk on the taste of you.

spencer started to subconsciously roll his hips into the air, his cock was hard and straining against his pants. eventually his jaw started to ache so he replaced his tongue with his fingers.

the change caused your back to arch, his fingers reached deeper than his tongue and they pressed against your g-spot with each curl. your orgasm was approaching embarrassingly fast, your legs were starting to close around his head and your moans were increasing in volume.

spencer took one of his hands away and reached down to palm himself through his pants, he groaned when he felt his cock twitch in his palm. he wrapped his lips around your clit once more and gently sucked.

your grip on his hair was nearly painful as you came, legs tights around his head as you nearly screamed his name.

hearing his name fall from your lips had spencer’s lips parting as his cum soiled his pants. he pulled his fingers out of you as you settled back down, your legs falling down and your grip on his hair loosening.

you both tried to catch your breath, spencer rested his head on your thigh and you ran your fingers through his hair and lightly scratched his scalp.

needless to say, your stress was gone thanks to spencer.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x fem!reader #sub!spencer #fem!reader #bau!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfic #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x fem!reader smut

[seeingivy]

the third act

actor!eren x f!reader

**part of my method acting series

an: my eyes are burning, my wrists hurt, my head is pounding. this ended up at 14k. i hate how i wrote this chapter but enjoy yall juice.

songs/media referenced: jessica chastain and oscar isacc on the red carpet, because I liked a boy by sabrina carpenter, look what you made me do by taylor swift (++ music video), and the grudge by olivia rodrigo

previous part linked here

--

You stand nervously on the porch, rubbing your sweaty hands against the pleats of your dress, as you ring the doorbell, the anticipation of the door swinging open making your stomach turn over in waves. 

And without a beat, Grisha and Carla are opening and standing by the door, bright smiles on their faces as they welcome you in. Carla opens her arms first and all but tackles you in the hug, the warm smell of vanilla permeating off of her skin. And Grisha, who has always been more awkward like Eren, gives you a soft squeeze on the shoulder as you hand them the flowers, and shuffle in. 

You note all the pictures on the wall - Eren and Zeke swimming in a pool, Grisha and Carla’s wedding, one of all four of them hugging - as you finally spot Eren, settled on the couch with Zeke. He immediately turns his head and gives you a bright smile, all but jumping up to greet you. 

Eren takes your hands in his and squeezes three times, knowing all too well of your nerves. 

Of having dinner with his family, who you’ve known since you were fifteen, but as their son's girlfriend for the first time.  

“Hey. You look pretty.” 

“Thanks, Eren. You too.” 

He curls his nose at the compliment as he wraps his arms around you, pulling back to tuck your hair behind your ear. You squeeze back and muster your best, most confident smile for him in response. 

Carla calls you from the kitchen and he gives you a soft smile as he beckons you to join her, returning to his spot on the couch between Grisha and Zeke. You take her side - she’s snipping the stems off the flowers you brought in - as you lean against the counter, eyes focused on Eren. 

“Thank you for the flowers. How have you been, Y/N?” 

“I’m good, how are you?” 

“Doing good, sweetheart. We’re really excited to come see your show tomorrow, Eren has been going on and on about how amazing you are in concert.” 

You feel your cheeks burn at the compliment as you wave her off, turning around to hand her the vase. 

“I’m really glad you’re all coming. It’ll be nice to see everyone again. It-it feels like forever since I’ve seen you.” 

“You have Levi to thank for that. Of course, he casts me in a show with my son just to kill me off in the first episode.” she remarks, a soft laugh falling out of her mouth. 

“Levi is a sadist. For killing you off in the first episode AND for making us such a big part of that scene.” you respond. 

Eren suddenly storms out of the room, heavy footsteps running up the stairs, as Grisha starts laying into Zeke at his side. You turn to your side and watch Carla’s face fall, her hands clutched on the crystal vase. 

“He’s also a sadist for casting Zeke and Eren as estranged brothers.” you murmur. 

Carla gives you a smile, albeit one that doesn’t meet her eyes, as she turns to your side, her hand giving your cheek a pinch. 

“Eren and Zeke. They-they’re just both sensitive. And there’s a lot of hurt there, for Eren especially. He likes to bury it down deep, argue when he knows he can’t hold his own.” 

“I know it’s a touchy subject. He only brings Zeke up when he’s really hurt.” 

Like during Historia’s scandal. 

“I’ll go check on him. He just needs a little talking to.” she responds, making her move to walk past. 

“Can I? Check on him?” 

She turns, giving you a smile and tucks your stray hairs behind your ears. Like mother, like son. 

“You’re sweet. Sure, his room is the first one up the stairs, to the left.” 

You give her a smile and walk up the stairs, making your best effort to be quiet as you pad up the stairs past Zeke and Grisha, who are still arguing in hushed tones on the couch. 

You press a light knock on the wood as you push the door open, to find Eren lying on his bed, face turned towards the windows. He’s sitting in the dark, but the lights of the city below are enough to illuminate the room brightly through his big, glass windows.  

You lean onto the bed and drape one of your arms around him, your chin resting on his shoulder as you look at him. At his dimples, his freckles, and his green eyes filled with tears. Angry, hurt tears. 

“Hi Eren.” you whisper. 

A weighted sigh leaves his chest. 

You reach forward and swipe the sole tear off his face, before pressing a kiss to his cheek. And squeeze his shoulders - your secret signal that you’re here and you’ve got him - as he nods, turning over to your side. 

“You want to tell me what’s wrong?” 

He pouts, reaching forward to pinch the softness on your cheek. 

“Not really.” he whispers, his voice straining in his throat. 

“Okay. Well, quit pinching. You’re ruining my makeup.” 

A soft smile spreads across his face at your annoyance as he brings his other hand up, now squishing both of his cheeks in his hands as he pushes them together. He’s laughing lightly, at your voice all jumbled from the squishing. 

“St-stop.” 

He lets go and abruptly stands up, grabbing your hand as he pulls you up to the window, the little people walking the streets of New York City beneath you two. And then all of a sudden he has his arms wrapped around you from behind, his cold face on your neck as he buries his skin into yours. 

“Eren. We should go back down soon, your mom and dad are probably waiting.” you murmur. 

“I don’t want to go. We can just stay up here and I’ll just tell them I was too upset.” 

“But I want to see them. They invited me over as….you know. I-I don’t want them to think I’m just messing around.” 

“You can say the word girlfriend, Y/N. You’re my girlfriend. And they’ve always liked you. Calm down.” 

He presses a kiss to your neck, the city lights mirroring on his face as you look at him in the reflection of the glass. You’re both quiet as you watch the cars pass, the honking sounds almost muted as they reach your ears. 

“I-I wanted this to be nice for you. Your family was so nice to me when I visited and Coco had all those games he wanted to play with me lined up, I just- I don’t want you to think they don’t care about you.” 

“I know they care, Eren. And I know that stuff with Zeke is complicated, but you-you shouldn't get so worked up over it on my behalf. I understand.” 

“I don’t know. I don’t want you to feel like we’re all soulless and that there isn’t any love in the room. Your house is so warm and I love it there. I want you to love it here too.” 

You turn around in his arms, hands flat against his chest, as you look at his tired eyes, expectantly looking at yours. 

“Eren. There’s so much love in the room.” 

He sighs, pressing you into his arms into a hug, as he murmurs into your hair. 

“Point it out to me. I’ve always had a problem noticing it.” he murmurs. 

You smile against his shoulder, recounting it all. 

“Your parents opened the door without a beat. Meaning…they were waiting by the door for me to show up. Because they were that excited for me, your….you know, was coming over. And-and they have all these framed baby pictures of you up, all these little memories hanging in your house. They’re all coming to the show tomorrow and-and your mom called me sweetheart, which just makes my heart tingle because she’s your mom and she said that to me, you know?” 

“She’s not special. I call you sweetheart, too.” he deadpans. 

“But she’s your mom, Eren! It’s special to me that she calls me that, that she likes me. You love her so much, I want her to love me too. To trust me with your heart of all people, when…when there are so many fish in the sea. To want me as her daughter and not anyone else.” you murmur, whispering out the last part so it's almost unintelligible. 

He hums against your hair, his hug only getting tighter as he lifts his hands to cradle the back of your head and angle it up, so that you’re looking at him. He’s staring so intently, his eyes so wide that it sends a shiver down your spine. 

“What are you thinking?” you whisper. 

“About the love in the room. It’s in the palm of my hands right now.” he says, squishing your cheeks in his hands again. 

You roll your eyes in response as you shrug out of his hold, only to pinch his cheeks this time.  

“I find it ridiculous that you can’t refer to yourself as my girlfriend BUT you can full on admit that you want to be my parents' daughter in law.” 

“Shut up. You’re so annoying sometimes.” 

He smiles as he wraps his arms around you again, his laugh filling up your ears. And Grisha and Carla push the door open - clearly to check on Eren - and suddenly they’re both giving you warm smiles and thumbs up before shutting the door again, satisfied with the fact that Eren was nestled into your arms and laughing. That he wasn’t angry and wound up anymore. 

You feel a hand on your shoulder, shrugging you out of your slumber, only to find Falco - wide blue eyes staring into yours as you try to gain your bearings. 

“Huh, what?” 

“Sorry.” he responds, a sheepish smile on his face. 

You place your hand directly on his face and slam him back down onto his pillow, pushing out a great string of profanities at him as you do. 

“What’s your problem? Can’t let a girl sleep?” 

“Hey! I was doing you a favor.” 

“Yeah, thanks for being a pain in my ass.” 

He frowns, reaching forward to smack your cheek as you start smacking his hand off, the two of you play fighting in the tangled sheets of your bed. 

“You’re always so annoying, Falco. Get out of my room.” 

“You were saying his name in your sleep! I just wanted to wake you up in case you were sad!” 

You both pause in the air, your raised hands releasing at the mention of him, like a bad omen was whispered into the air. You give him a tight lipped smile as you nod, leaning back onto the plush of your pillows as he joins you, your pair of eyes focused on the dark ceiling above. 

It’s Falco’s night to sleep with you. They all take turns - Colt, your parents, Falco - because more often than not, there’s something haunting your dreams. It’s the fight you two had outside the house before he left. It’s Connie crying. The camera smashing. And when you can’t will yourself to sleep, every shred of self-preservation goes out the window and you end up on social media. 

Scrolling through pages and pages of the same thing. Of the interview, of how you made an entire career off of people who were more famous than you, of how you had to be the one on top. 

How you were a homewrecker, a slut, not pretty enough to be a lead, an overrated popstar, who didn’t write her own music, who could barely keep her own in a role, who at your core, was nothing at all. 

Falco’s hand curls around yours under the sheets, warm and soft, as you turn and place your free hand in his hair, carding your fingers through the tresses of his hair. 

“Y/N?” 

“Yes, Falco?” 

“Can I say something really messed up?” 

“Please.” you respond, fighting the smile on your face. 

He smiles as he turns his face towards you, the pillow deflating under the weight of his head. 

“I know everything that happened sucked, like literally every person on the internet making fun of you and all the interviews and people commenting on your looks and-” 

“Get to the point.” you deadpan. 

“I’m glad you were home for the past few months. And indefinitely too, not like you had somewhere else to run off to.” he murmurs. 

You press your temples against the pillows, his words hanging in the air as they twist into something unruly in your chest. 

Another one of your regrets - leaving your family out here alone, prioritizing your career over them. His words keep company with every other mistake you’ve ever made. 

Sometimes it’s hard to tell if you even done anything right. 

“I’m sorry, Falco. I-I’m going to come right back after the awards show. And I’m not going to take any roles or concerts and stuff at all after that. I-I need time to just be here and rest after…everything.” 

“Good. You’ll finally have time to learn Rocket League properly.” he responds, smiling. 

You take the spare pillow and smack it across his face, eliciting a laugh from him as he lifts his own and returns the favor. 

“It’s a stupid game. I refuse to play it.” 

“That’s just because you suck. And plus, I can carry you. That’s what I had to do with Eren too and he was worse than you.” 

He immediately backtracks. 

“Sorry.” 

“It’s okay, Falco. He was important to you like was to me too. You-you can bring him up.” 

You’re both quiet again, the thought of him on the forefront of both of your minds. 

“You know he said he considered me a brother? That we weren’t just friends, that we were like family.” he whispers, tears in his eyes. 

“Falco.” you murmur. 

“Sorry. I-I know that that…this entire thing is worse for you than it is for me. But I just-” 

“No. He-he made you part of it too, Falco. It-it’s okay to feel sad about it.” 

“I just don’t understand why, Y/N. Who does all that stuff? Is being famous really all that?” 

“To some people. I-I guess it’s all he’s ever known, you know? His parents were famous, his brother was famous…it makes sense that it means so much to him. He-he doesn’t care about the things we do.” 

“I-I don’t like not talking to him. I….I really did think of him as my brother you know.” 

“Well, that doesn’t matter. You have a real brother.” Colt says, shuffling into the room and face planting Falco into the mattress. 

You both laugh as he flops onto the bed, clearly woken up by both of your talking.  

“Yeah, well you’re annoying. He said I was cool.” Falco responds. 

“He’s always had a horrible lack of judgment. First, for liking you. Second, for entertaining any of your crap for a second.” Colt says, pointing at the two of you as you frown at him. 

“Jokes on you, Colt. He didn’t even like me.” you respond, matter of factly. 

“That wasn’t the burn you thought it was.” Falco murmurs, eliciting laughs from both you and Colt. 

You scooch to the side and open the space to your left as Colt climbs under the covers, leaving you nestled between the two of them as you all argue over blanket hogging before falling asleep. 

--

You stand by the door as you watch the five of them trudge out of the car, an instant and harsh reminder of the entire life you lived, the one you’re about to be perpetually stuck in again, refreshing in your mind. Of the pain you’ve buried quiet and deep, suddenly raw. 

It’s easy to pretend like it didn’t happen - when you’re at home and you turn your phone off. When Colt makes fun of you and Falco forces you to play board games with him, getting so irrationally mad whenever you win. 

When you can pretend like he doesn’t exist. That you’re not famous and that no one knows your name, that this is all you’ve ever known. Board games, family dinners, the patch of grass in the backyard under your fingertips. 

But when Danny, Sareen, Sukuna, Historia, and Jean are walking up the pavement, smiles on all of their faces illuminated by the moonlight, albeit not full ones, you know the small bubble you’ve sheltered yourself in for the past three months is going to shatter. 

And you’re going to be in the thick of it. 

Danny and Sareen reach you first, both planting a kiss on your cheek before sliding in, dragging their bags behind them. They spare no greeting, which you’re sure is no thanks to the grave you’ve been digging for yourself. 

“Hi Y/N.” 

“Hi Jean.” you respond, mustering your best smile as he opens up his arms and pushes you into a hug, hands rubbing up and down your arms. 

“You good?” 

“Trying to be.” 

He gives you a smile as he pulls back, his eyes soft as he looks at you. 

“Mika misses you. She’s very annoyed at your whole vow of silence, never leaving my house, hermit crab thing. You could at least respond to the Tik Toks she sends you.” 

“Sorry, I- I don’t mean to-” 

“Y/N. I’m just joking.” he says, tone soft as he gives you a smile. 

“I miss her too. Why isn’t she here?” 

“Danny and Sareen think her hysterics aren’t conducive to the situation. I agree.” he responds, giving your shoulder a squeeze as he follows in. 

Sukuna makes his way over next, hands fixed behind his back as he gives you a smile. And the fact that he’s already hiding whatever it is behind his back, is enough to piss you off. 

“Hi doll.” 

“Hi pervert. Why are your hands behind your back?” you mutter, rolling your eyes at him. 

“Got a gift for you.” 

“Is it a sex toy? Because I’m about to get you registered as a sex offender if you think you’re being funny.” 

“Unfortunately, not.” 

He removes his hands from his back and holds it in front of you - a tub of ice cream with your name scribbled on the top. 

“Really, Sukuna? I thought you wouldn’t buy me ice cream if he stopped texting me.” 

He sighs, giving you a hug - which feels awkward coming from him - before pulling back and fixing the hair hanging by your shoulders. 

“He did worse than that, doll.” he says, placing the tub in your hands as he walks past where Jean’s calling him. 

Which leaves Historia - who you haven’t talked to in years besides three pestering phone calls, the last one being the only reason you’re even letting any of them shatter your bubble right now - staring at you, with her bright, blue eyes. 

“You look horrible.” Historia states, matter of factly. 

You snort. 

“Never one to coddle, were you?”

“Nope.” she responds, smiling as she links her arms with yours and presses a kiss to your cheek as you walk in. You feel warm at the fact that she came all this way, that she’s standing by your side as you brace the wolves. If you can even get yourself that far. 

You settle in at the table as the five of them talk in scattered conversations - Danny and Sareen talking about stylists, Sukuna and Falco arguing about god knows what, Colt and Jean talking in hushed tones. 

You take a deep breath as you slide into the seats across from Danny and Sareen, ready to face the wrath of ignoring them for three months, of letting interviews and podcasts and everything in between go on and on without making any effort to defend your name. And forsaken the years they’ve poured into your career without a second thought. 

“We should have reached out to Historia and told her to call you earlier. Didn’t realize it would be this easy to rile you up.” Danny states, sliding a folder over to you. 

“Wasn’t that easy. I-I’m still on the fence about going out there again and all that.” you respond, as Jean and Sukuna take the seats next to them, Jean’s foot finds yours under the table and he gives you a light tap as he smiles at you

You give him a smile back, his small move of reassurance helping ease your nerves in the room. Historia must sense them too because suddenly her hand is in yours under the table, cracking each of the knuckles in your fingers. 

“You don’t want to defend your name? At all?” Sareen asks, an irritated tone falling out of her mouth. 

“I don’t think I’m strong enough for that. There’s so much they’ll ask, so much they’ve already said that I don’t think-” 

“That’s all the more reason to do it. He’s talked over you for months now, he does one interview and then all his little minions make it a point to bring you up in some way or another after it.” Danny states. 

“I know that. I just think-” 

You pause, the frustrations, the signals in your head getting worked up. You’ve thought about it all, long and hard. And every feeling of hurt, every memory of the past seven years gets tangled up in it. And you can’t decide. 

There’s so many reasons to do it. To embarrass Eren the way he embarrassed you, to drag his name through the mud the way he so callously did yours. To whatever shred of humanity is still in him, to make it ache, to hurt him in the one place you know it’ll stick. Take the one thing he cares about - his fame - away from him. 

But there’s so many reasons not to. Why would you embarrass Eren the way he embarrassed you? How does that make you any better than him? There is no part of you that can relish in hurting him. When you still love him. 

“It’s complicated, that’s all. And….and it’s Eren, this type of thing isn’t easy for me.” 

“Y/N.” 

You turn your head to Historia, tilting your head expectantly to the side as you wait for her to talk. Her hands are soft on your shoulders, squeezing lightly as she talks. 

“That’s not your Eren.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“The Eren you’re talking about. The one you’ve been in love with since you’re fifteen. He-he isn’t that guy anymore. He’s not the one who encourages you to be better, who pushes you out of your comfort zone, who writes love songs on pianos with you. He-I don’t know what happened to him. But don’t mix up the two.” 

“Historia.” 

“He may look, sound, even smell and feel like the Eren you knew. But that’s not who he is. We’ve known Eren forever. Would he really smash that camera? Would the guy you love do something like that to Armin?” 

You pale. The smashed pieces of the camera are still a gut punch. And you know Armin has yet to buy a new one, his own feelings mixed up in his hurt as well. 

“Don’t mix them up, Y/N. He let Connie do drugs. And let Connie come back too, when he knew what happened.” 

You and Armin put all of your energy into getting Connie out of there, only for him to return to that godforsaken set a week later. And any efforts the two of you had to stop him were only met with the harshest words back. 

You can’t tell what’s worse. Eren breaking your heart the way he did or Connie being so unwilling to accept your help, that he’d insult you both to get you out of his hair. That Connie was already that far gone. That Eren let him get there.

“Y/N. He-he’s really not the same anymore. And he hasn’t been for a while. I think even you know that. And it’s time for you to let him go. To stop protecting him and start thinking about you.” Jean says, hands folded over the table. 

“You’re really going to let him do this? Drag your name in the mud? Because everything you’ve done is a result of your hard work. You’re the one who acted in the show, you’re the one who wrote all those albums on your own, back to back with-with no break, Y/N. You’ve poured your blood, sweat, and tears into this. He doesn’t get to take that away from you.” Historia says, words laced with venom. 

You turn your head to Sukuna, the only person who's been uncharacteristically quiet this entire time. 

“Any advice for me?” you ask, the tone hopeful. 

“You’re a smart girl. Think hard on what you think you should do. Quit looking to us for answers.” 

You roll your eyes at him, dissatisfied with his always vague answers. 

“I’m on your side whatever you do, doll.” he counters. 

“Sleep on it. We’re here tomorrow morning, whatever you decide.” Sareen and Danny state, definitively. 

You give Danny and Sareen a smile as your parents show them to their rooms down the hall, Colt and Falco dragging the two boys up the stairs. Much to Falco’s dismay, Sukuna has taken too much of a liking to Falco and is insisting that Jean sleep with Falco and not Colt. (Falco’s scared of Sukuna and is sweating at the thought of sharing a bed with him.)

You take Historia to your room, her bag dragging behind her as you point out the bathroom to her. She gives you a smile and pads out twenty minutes later, her head wrapped in a sock. 

“Nice hair, George Washington.” 

“Shut up. They’re heatless curls. And I’m shocked you even know who that is considering you always sucked in history.” she responds, giving the walls one look before crawling into the sheets with you. You quickly shut the light off, everyone’s thoughts from earlier ruminating through your head. 

Her hand finds its way to yours under the bed, giving yours a squeeze as she lets a sigh out. 

“The empty spots on the wall?” Historia asks. 

“Yeah. I-I came back and his face was everywhere. It kept making me cry.” you respond.

She shuffles to her side, head facing yours as you mimic her motions. 

“Armin told me what he said. You know, I really do mean that he’s not the guy you were in love with.” 

You swallow hard, thinking back to Eren on the beach, how that was your Eren. About how wrong they all are. 

The waves crash in the distance as the stars glitter above, your head resting against Eren’s lap. His hands are in your hair, one of his favorite places for his hands to be, as you both watch the waves rise and fall in the periphery. 

“Up.” 

You look up at him, as his eyes looking down at yours. 

“Am I a cavewoman? What happened to please? Oh Y/N, sweetheart, please sit up.” 

He rolls his eyes as he brings his hands down from his hair to your cheeks, his fingers soft on your skin. 

“Y/N.” he says, drawing out the syllables with a voice so sweet it makes your cheeks burn. 

“Huh?” 

“Sweet, sweet love of my life. Please sit up. I want to look at your pretty eyes, your sweet, perfect face, and hold it in my hands.” he says, a smile on his face. 

You can feel your face turning what you’re sure is red as you scramble up and Eren readjusts so you’re closer to him, your face in his hands. And then he’s looking into your eyes for so long, the moon shining bright on his face, that you see his eyes are filling with tears. 

“Eren?” 

“Not crying. It’s the salt air.” he sniffles, eyes pained. 

“It’s okay if you are. I-I just want to know why.” you whisper. 

“Nothing. You’re just here with me, after so long. I-I just missed you a lot that I’m still feeling like I miss you. Preemptively, for when you’ll leave next.” 

You smile as you shuffle into his arms, resting your head against his as you run your hands through his hair now. 

“I missed you too. I’m not going anywhere, so don’t worry about that.” 

You feel him tense under your touch, his arms around yours squeezing you harder. 

“Y/N.” he says, tone in his voice warning. 

“No, Eren. I-I’m staying. I made the mistake of leaving you once already and I-I learned my lesson.”

He pulls back only to pull you in for a kiss, so deep that you can almost feel it. The longing, the same one you’ve shared pouring out of him and into you. It’s strong enough to bring tears to your eyes. 

“Anywhere, huh?” he says, a deep sigh leaving his chest. 

“You’ll have to drag me out by my hair if you want me gone. You-you’re stuck to me, Eren.” 

“Okay, sweetheart. You’re stuck to me too. I wouldn’t want you anywhere else.” he responds, half smiling. 

And when he pulls you in for a kiss this time, it goes further. His hands are hovering over your heart, your hips, all over your body. 

You remember what happened next. And that the sweetness before was only a precursor for that. And it stings, so hard, the betrayal sitting so deep that you have angry tears in your eyes. 

He isn’t your Eren. Or maybe Eren just isn’t who you thought he was. 

“You’re right. I-I’m going to do it.” you say, giving her your most confident smile, even though you’re both confined to the dark. 

“Good. I’m by your side, however you want me to help. It would be a gut punch to everyone if I was the one helping you, considering their one proof that you’re a self-absorbed pedestal climber is that you stopped being friends with me.” 

She’s broached the elephant in the room. The one that’s been bothering you for years, but even more so since she was the one who called you first. 

After months of radio silence. 

“Historia.” 

“Yes?” 

“Why did we stop being friends?” 

She pauses, realizing her mistake all too fast. 

“We didn’t stop being friends, Y/N-” 

“No. I want to know and you’re going to tell me. Quit being so bitchy about this entire thing because you’ve actually hurt me more than you think. You owe me this.” you respond. 

The silence hangs in the air. 

“Did you listen to lacy, Y/N?” she whispers. 

“Yeah. I texted you about it, it was really good.” you respond. 

“Did you understand it?” 

You pause. 

“I think so.” 

“Then you should understand.” 

“Historia.” 

She sits up in the dark and you follow suit, both of you sitting crisscrossed in front of each other, the thickness in the room sitting heavy. 

“Look. Do you remember that line? In season two? I’m the worst girl who ever lived?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Levi and Hange didn’t write that line. I-I just said it. And if you really want to know why we aren’t friends, why I couldn’t stand you, it-it’s because I’m horrible. And it’s fucking embarssing that I am. I seriously am the worst girl who ever lived.” 

You reach for her hand, locking it in with yours.

“You’re not horrible.” 

“I am. I just- I couldn’t stand you, Y/N. You were perfect. You were pretty, you were nice, you were kind - there was no reason to hate you. You were a natural at acting. You wrote your first song and it was a fucking hit. Then you had a best selling album, a sold out tour. And on top of all of it, you weren’t some soulless popstar.” 

“You had those things too.” 

“You had a relatively normal childhood, before you willingly came into this. You have brothers who would die for you, friends who adore you, Levi and Hange basically treat you like you’re their kid, and you had Eren. You got love right on the first try.” 

You swallow hard. 

“I-I’m not trying to throw the Eren thing in your face. I-I just mean. You got to love someone in the open. Everyone praised you guys for it. There wasn’t any shame, there wasn’t any hurt, you and Eren just got to be together.” 

And then you realize it. There wasn’t any shame. 

“Historia. Is it because-”

“You know how fucking heart wrenching it is to have all these big feelings for Ymir and have to swallow them down because I want to have a fucking career? Watch her walk away because I’m too embarrassed to love her in the open but she isn’t embarrassed of me back? How agitating was it to watch you throw away what you had with Eren after I had to do that just because I’m gay and you can’t be gay if you want what we do?” 

You wrap your arms around her, stifling her sobs into your shoulder as she cries, chest heaving. 

“You just pissed me off because you did the same thing I did. Even when I told you to be better, both of you. And then it became this big thing in my head, so big that I didn’t even know what was happening.” 

“Historia, I’m not mad at you.” 

“See, that’s the thing. I stopped fucking talking to you and you wrote dorothea, about how you’d always have a spot open for me even though I don’t fucking deserve it. I’m over here talking about how jealous I am of you when people have ridiculed you for years, like you weren’t tired out of your fucking mind when you were doing all that, like you didn’t lose Eren too, like people didn’t strip you of everything you’ve done and embarass you for the past few months..” 

“It’s okay, we all do that and-” 

“You did nothing wrong. But it still hurt me. I-I’m the worst, Y/N. We-we were sisters and I did this.” 

“Historia. Shut the fuck up for like two seconds. This is what being sisters is.” 

“Huh?” she says, teary eyes wide as you reach forward and swipe her tears away. 

“Siblings, sisters. They-they tear you apart. You tear me apart just as much as I do you, Historia. I adore you but you make me feel ashamed sometimes, because I’m not as cool as you. You make me feel so lonely but you’re the only person I want to be around. And when you’re around me, I want to cry because I love you so much. Sometimes you irritate me so much I want to strangle you for being stupid. I want to be just like you but I hate it when people compare us. You’re the only reason I have confidence right now but I want to cry when I think about us when we were little because we used to giggle about stupid shit before going to bed.” 

“Y/N.” she says, weary tears spilling out of her eyes. 

“Why do you think I picked up your phone after you didn’t talk to me for months? Why are you sleeping in my bed next to me right now? Every shitty feeling you have about me is one I’ve had too, maybe even worse than yours. That’s what makes you my sister - not some do good, feel good shit that’s perfect. Being siblings, being sisters - we’re stuck together. Despite all the shitty, despite all the bad, there’s deep good. Which is why you’re here. Which is why I'm letting you be. So quit feeling sorry for yourself for like two seconds and just shut up.”  

Historia nods, sinking into your arms again as you run your hands through her hair, rubbing small circles into her back. 

You lost Eren. But you got Historia back. Everything you lose is a step you take. 

“Y/N. You really hate me too sometimes?” 

“Sometimes?” you repeat, sarcasm dripping from your voice. 

“Bitch.” 

You both laugh, too hard that you’re both smiling so hard it hurts. 

“You’re really annoying. You couldn't even text me after I wrote dorothea to say you liked it? And what the fuck is skin like puff pastry? I use La Roche Posay, my skin isn’t even that dry anymore.” 

“Okay. You just had to write the most high ground, mature ass song about me. You couldn’t write some fucking diss track about how I’m ugly?” 

“I’m not you. I don’t make fun of people for having dry skin.” you respond, the two of you lying flat against the sheets. 

You both talk into the night, only until Sukuna yells at you both to shut the fuck up, do you go to sleep. It’s your first night without a nightmare. And when you wake up, you’ve decided. 

It’s time to take back your name. 

--

You sit in the plane, rubbing your nervous hands against the seats of the plane, as you watch the city get smaller below you, your house somewhere in the expanse getting left far behind. Revenge sits heavy on your mind. Jean nudges you with his elbow, giving you a half-hearted smile. 

“Mikasa might kiss you straight on the mouth when she sees you again. Out of respect for my future marriage, I do ask that you respectfully dodge her.” 

You laugh, nudging him back. 

“I make zero promises. Also, barf. Future marriage? Since when are you so adult?” 

“What do you want me to call my wedding? A hangout?” 

“Obviously.” 

He rolls his eyes as you both focus on the view, the city lights shining beneath the plane. 

“Pick a date?” 

“Maybe after we finish filming season four,” he says. 

“That’s so long from now. What happened to ‘oh I can’t wait another second to spend the rest of my life with her’” you respond, mimicking his voice. 

“Quit it. I can’t actually. But we want things to settle before we get married.” 

You frown. 

“Are you postponing your wedding because of me? Because I’m about to stir shit up?” you whisper. 

You find out quickly that the combination of Historia, Danny, and Sareen - coupled with Sukuna’s willingness to do anything you ask of him - creates a monster of pettiness you could never dream of. 

“No. Not you.” he responds. 

He leans his head against the headrest, eyes focused on the fluorescent lights above. You mimic the motion, focusing on the little call lights and vents above the two of you. 

“I’ve dreamed about my wedding to Mikasa for years. Basically since I’ve known her.” 

“Gag. You guys are so sweet it makes my stomach hurt.” 

“I always imagined it in a specific way. Her dress is simple, because Mikasa isn’t one for theatrics, despite how hysterical she gets. It’s got a short train but she has a pretty, flowing veil. Her hair is long again, her cheeks are pink, and she looks perfect.” 

You smile, heart burning for Mikasa and her sweet love. 

“Levi and Hange are there, pretending not to cry. Connie and Sasha get too drunk during the reception, Reiner’s making some weirdly inappropriate speech but it’s sweet because it’s him. No one knows how he got the microphone, by the way. Annie and Armin are kissing in the photobooth and get caught.” 

“God. They’re doing more than kissing, that’s for sure.” 

He snickers. And then sighs before talking again. 

“You’re the maid of honor. And Eren’s the best man. You guys get to stand on opposite sides of us and sneak each other secret looks, ones only you understand while we’re getting married. Because all you both have is the fucking audacity, always eye fucking each other everywhere, even at our wedding.” 

You smile through the sting. Eren did love his prolonged eye contact. 

“And when we do our first dance, you both write us a sweet love song that puts into words what it’s like to love Mikasa. It makes it perfect. That I get to start my life with Mikasa on a high note and that our two best friends get to be a part of it.” he states, chest deflating. 

You swallow hard. 

“You both helped me sneak into Mikasa’s room so I could sleep next to her. Covered for us whenever Levi almost caught us, even if it meant you both got in trouble. Eren’s let me talk about her for hours on end, unlike Connie and Reiner who thought it was stupid. He even told me to tell her I loved her first, even though I was scared. Helped me plan our first date, how I proposed, I-” 

He stops, voice quiet when he talks again. 

“We’re not getting married right now, but not because of you. It’s because I’m having trouble getting over the fact that my wedding isn’t going to be how I’ve always dreamed it was. Because of Eren.” 

You wrap your arm into his and lean your head against his shoulder, which he returns by resting his head against yours. 

“Y/N.” 

“Hm?” 

“Give him hell for me?” 

“That’s a promise, Jean.” 

--

Eren hates red carpets. The flashing lights, the screaming voices, and his head being pulled twenty places at once as people scream his name. The novelty of it all - of the excitement, of the rush, of people so intently asking you questions and hanging onto your answers - is long gone for Eren. 

Luckily for him, he doesn’t have to talk much during the interview. Hyla talks for him. 

“Eren. How do you feel being nominated for Best Actor in a TV Series?” the interviewer asks, holding the microphone up to him. 

Hyla, who's hanging off of his arm, excitedly answers for him, cheeks gleaming as she talks. 

“So thrilled. This has been Eren’s dream since he was little, when he started filming Attack on Titan. I’m excited to see it finally come true for him.” she says, reaching forward to pinch his cheek. 

Eren gives a polite smile as he moves halfway down the carpet, eyeing Lana at his side who makes a gagging motion before they both turn back to the cameras. Except all the photographers in front of him - who were intently snapping pictures of him and Hyla - have all run to the other side of the carpet, back at the start and are making loud cheering sounds as the flashes go off. 

Hyla drops her hand from his as Lana walks up, lightly pushing Hyla to the side as she links her own arm in Eren’s. 

“Who do you think it is?” 

“Ten bucks it's Gojo. Maybe this time it’s a dog suit.” he murmurs, earning a laugh with Lana. 

“Dog-jo.” Lana states. 

“If you say Daddy’s home.” he sings, in a high-pitched voice, which has the two of them laughing. 

They both slide up and peer through the side of the crowd, the group of people on the carpet crowded to watch what everyone was so keen to take a picture of, paparazzi going as far as nearly climbing on top of each other, to get past the rope. 

And when Eren catches sight of what it is, who it is that has them acting up like this, the air gets tangled in his throat. And he’s crushing Lana’s arm into his. 

It’s you. Unlike he’s ever seen you. 

Eren gets it. The whole branding thing that Sareen and Danny leaned into. That you were a sweet lover girl, who wrote happy songs - about love, friendship, the sweetness that comes with it all. Which melted into everything, including how your team styled you. 

Always modest, soft outfits. Light colors - pink, purples, pastel blues that were willowy and warm, like you. Not bold, not daring, but familiar and soft. 

But the way you’re dressed now, you’ve done a full send to the other side. A dark, black dress, perfectly accentuating every curve of your body, matching with gloves that go all the way up to your biceps. And cover up your fish tattoo. 

Eren’s eyes are watering. To see shoulders he’s kissed hundreds of times, your neck that he’s left tons of marks on, those sweet eyes that kill him and the lips he’s kissed, only a few feet away from him and not in his dreams. 

He hasn’t seen you in three months. And what’s more, is every deep dive search he did of you on the internet - embarrassingly so - was only the barrage of hatred that people were sending towards you, not anything mentioning how you actually were or if you were even seen in public. 

Sometimes Eren thought you were dead. And he knows that if you were, it was his hands that killed you. 

You’re standing in the middle still, lights flashing against your glittery makeup, the softest of smiles on your face as you twirl around the carpet, which elicits a grandiose amount of cheers from the paparazzi as they start asking you questions. 

Are you performing tonight? 

Who are you here with? 

Where have you been the last three months? 

Eren’s sweating. Because the mix of emotions - of this entire thing - has suddenly worsened tenfold. You’re here. You’re okay. And you look beautiful. The way he’s seen you hundreds of times - in the confines of your bedroom, in hotel rooms, on the beach, but now out in the open. 

There’s another round of cheers as Sukuna, of all people, walks up next to you. And the next scene is enough to upset his stomach, to vomiting level, and enough to finally get Hyla to walk over and watch. Lana’s the only thing bracing him in the moment, her light nudges indicating they should walk away. 

But all Eren can do is stare. He’s sixteen years old, watching the girl he likes get kissed on the stage while announcing an award. And now he’s twenty two years old, watching the girl he loves - in his own sick and twisted way - all dolled up on the red carpet but millions of miles away from him. 

Sukuna walks up and gives you a bright smile, which has you leaning forward and cupping his face in your hands. You’re both smiling at each other so hard, so warm that everyone else around you is cheering. And deep, burning jealousy stings in Eren’s chest once again. 

He watches Sukuna pull you in, hand cradling the back of your neck and his eyes closed as he hugs you - knowing he’s surely breathing in that sweet, flowery smell you always seemed to emanate. And then you’re playfully pushing Sukuna away as you try to snap your own pictures, which only has Sukuna only moving closer. And the paparazzi cheering louder. 

Sukuna’s pulling down the edge of the glove, leaning down to press the longest kiss of Eren’s life to your skin, right where he knows your tattoo is, as he watches your cheeks burn pink and the crowd erupt. Sukuna’s hand now resting carefully against your waist, against the black fabric of your dress and Eren’s realizing that he truly, in earnest, is not strong enough for this. For the smug, knowing smiles on both of your faces. 

Eren knows that you know you look good. And that you know you’ve got their attention. 

And that you have to know, surely with full confidence, that you’re driving him insane. That Sukuna purposely kissed the spot on your skin that was proof that you once belonged to him. 

“God. She’s really leaning into the whole slut thing, huh?” Hyla states, which finally draws Eren - and Lana’s - attention away from the two of them. 

“God. You’re really leaning into the whole jealous ‘girlfriend’ thing aren’t you?” Lana asks, rolling her eyes as she drags Eren to the side of the carpet, as Sukuna and Y/N walk past. 

Except, the two of you turn your heads and bee line straight to where the three of them are standing, which has Eren’s palms sweating and his skin burning as you look at him. And the breeze pushes that flowery, lavender smell into his nose. That block in his chest, that’s been sitting there for the past few years, is paralyzing. 

The darkness around your eyes, they only accentuate how big they really are, the glitter dusted perfectly against your skin, and your lips - full and pink that Eren can’t help but stare. You divert your gaze and look at Lana, to his left. 

“Hi La-La. You look very pretty today. Pink is your color.” you say, the familiarity of your voice making Eren’s heart ache. 

Lana, albeit a bit shocked you’re even speaking to her in the first place, extends her hand, reaching out to hold yours. 

“Thank you, Tinky-Winky. You’re gorgeous. A vision in black.” Lana responds, giving you a smile which you blissfully return. 

Eren’s sweating. He’s in his own personal hell right now. 

“Nice dress, Y/N, Not your usual look.” Hyla states, each syllable harsh as it falls out of her mouth. 

Never mind. Now, he’s really in his own personal hell. 

“Pretty, isn’t she?” Sukuna asks, brown eyes glaring into Hyla’s. 

“So, you’re dating then?” Hyla asks, crossing her hands across her chest. 

The two of you don’t respond, giving each other knowing smiles, as Sukuna only leans into you more, leaving Eren entirely unsure of what’s unfolding in front of him. 

“Figures. You always did have a thing for sluts.” 

“Hyla.” Lana and Eren state, matching warning tones in their voices. 

“The only person I’ve ever dated is you. But I’m glad you’re self aware about what you are.” Sukuna responds, taking the bait. 

You walk closer, tilting your head to the side as you look at Hyla. 

“You might want to keep him under wraps today. He’s always had a thing for me in dresses.” you state, giving the two of them sickly sweet smiles. 

It’s the one time he’s seen Hyla stutter. Granted, the way you’re smiling at her, leaning into her space with your shoulders pushed back - Eren understands the feeling. He would hate to be the next person to piss you off. 

Eren pales. Any anger you have for Hyla must be tenfold when it comes to him. And he realizes why you’re here, in a black dress of all things. 

Revenge. 

“Of course, you would be the one to tempt him while you’re with another guy. You really are a whore you know that?” 

“It’s not my fault your boyfriend is dragging me to beaches and begging me to kiss him. Granted, I understand that kissing you is so revolting that it makes him vomit. I can empathize with the desperation, Eren.” you respond, giving the three of them a smile. 

Hyla’s so infuriated that she’s stomping down the length of the red carpet to where the rest of her friends are, which has you turning your gaze to Lana, who's smiling. You give her a wink which she beams at, as you return your gaze to Eren. You give him one last look up and down before you walk to the end, the cameras following you. 

Before Sukuna can walk away, Eren pulls him back by the collar, whispering in his ear. 

“Sukuna.” 

“What?” 

“How is she? Really?” 

Sukuna sighs, Eren’s pitiful green eyes nearly pissing him off. 

“Look at her. How do you think she is?” 

Eren deflates. 

“She’s going to give them exactly what they want, isn’t she?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Did you make any attempt to even stop her?” 

“Do you seriously think I could? After what you said? This is your fault, Eren. You made the wrong move.” Sukuna mutters. 

“Well, what the fuck was I supposed to do? Seriously, in earnest, tell me. Because you take the high and mighty ground here telling me I make mistakes but offer no other fucking option as to what I’m supposed to do.”  

Sukuna shoves Eren into the backdrop. 

“Watch yourself tonight. I’m serious. Don’t act like you didn’t know better when you know I warned you ahead of time. You dug your own grave. Now sit in it, Jaeger.” he warns, stalking off to the end where you’re waiting before the paparazzi catch on. 

The anger simmers off of Eren, the frustration building, as he storms right past, straight into the auditorium inside and takes his seat. He’s had enough of the red carpet. 

He leans over the seat, placing his head in between his knees as he pulls at the strands of his hair, trying to even his breaths as he tries to still the panic in his chest. He feels a hand on his shoulder, which he leans into. 

“Fuck, Lana. What are we supposed to do now?” 

He looks up to not find Lana, swallowing hard at the sight of Scott Clarkson himself, standing in front of him. With Danny and Sareen at his sides. 

--

You shake the microphone nervously in your hand, the familiarity and sleight of hands of performing coming back to you as you watch the stages move up and down - Historia directing the crew to perfectly place the props in place. 

“Your outfits are in the back room. You should change now.” the lady states, striking through something on her clipboard as you gesture for Historia to join you.

She nods as she runs up to your side, hand in yours as you both start nervously walking to the back. The outfits, they’re matching identical sets - blue for Historia and green for you. As you both slip your outfits on, you hold your phone out for Historia and swallow the lump in your throat. 

“What?” 

“Go on Twitter. I-I want to know what they’re saying about the red carpet. But I don’t-I need you to filter out the bad stuff. I need to know people won’t throw tomatoes at me when I come out there with you.” 

She nods, unlocking your phone and heads to the app. There’s a smile on her face as she scrolls, blue eyes wide. 

“Y/N L/N is trending. Along with the tags Eren Jaeger, Ryomen Sukuna, Revenge Dress, and Ryomen Sukuna can you fight?”

You snort, cheeks warm. 

“Anything bad?” 

“No. It’s all about how hot you and Sukuna are. They’re going feral for the tattoo kiss. And-and talking about how pissed Eren and Hyla look today. Eren especially, apparently he didn’t even do the entire carpet?” 

“Good.” 

She shuts your phone off and hands it back, wrapping her arms around yours as you give her your best smile. 

“We still have five minutes. I just don’t want to go out there. Your doppelganger is freaking me the fuck out.” she whispers, earning a laugh from you. 

“Imagine being me. She put on the beach outfit and a shiver went down my spine. It’s one thing to look like me but it’s even worse when she’s literally wearing my clothes.” 

“Danny and Sareen are insane for the tattoo decal. It looks just like yours.” 

You nod, facing the mirror as you rub your hands against the ink, the sight of it making your stomach turn. And something twinge in your chest for that memory, of those glittering awards, of performing next to Eren, only for him to be whispering in your ear as you got the ink. 

The two of you walk out as you take your spots on the stage, waiting for Historia to rise onto the stage first. And you thank the gods that Danny and Sareen pulled strings to make sure that Eren had a front row seat. 

--

The waiters move around the rows with trays, drinks rimmed with crystals on the edge and bright blue liquid in them being passed out. Lana excitedly reaches for two, nearly shivering in excitement in her seat. 

“Lana.” 

“It’s my night off, Eren. Don’t be a buzzkill. And god knows we can’t do this sober.” she murmurs, eyeing Myka and Hyla at the sides, phones up in the air as they optimize their angles. 

“Well, at least share them.” he responds, taking the second glass and letting the liquid burn his throat as it goes down. 

The lights dim as he leans back into his chair, Gojo and Geto taking to the stage to open the awards shows. The cameras all around are suddenly whirring, their loud voices booming through the speakers. 

“Who's doing the ensemble?” Lana asks, slurping through her drink. 

“Jujutsu Kaisen.” 

She nods, eyes focused on the stage revolving as they set up for Historia’s performance. 

“Why did you guys never do one for Attack on Titan?” 

“Levi and Hange got offered it for Season Three, but they want to save it for Season Four and the finale. Let’s see if we even make it there in one piece.” 

They both quiet down as Historia rises to the stage, for the opening performance, in a glittering outfit as she starts singing. Eren’s half focused on the show - mind running elsewhere as he scans the room from his vantage point to find where you were. To indiscreetly ogle you, in your pretty black dress. But the seat next to Sukuna is filled by Yuuji as he looks around the room for you. 

To grant himself the small joys in life. Catching the ends of your smile. 

Now I'm a homewrecker, I'm a slut I got death threats filling up semi-trucks Tell me who I am, guess I don't have a choice All because I liked I'm a hot topic on your tongue I'm a rebound gettin' 'round stealin' from the young Tell me who I am, guess I don't have a choice All because I liked a boy

Myka and Hyla snicker at his sides at the line, tears falling out of their eyes at the line. 

“Because I liked a boy?” Hyla repeats. 

“What now?” he murmurs. 

“Like that’s going to convince people she’s not a lesbian.” Myka states. 

Lana, clearly well past her tolerance after not drinking for so long, takes her drink and splashes it into Myka’s face, earning a good amount of protest as she runs off, Historia singing on the stage. 

“Okay, Lana. Let’s not end up on the front page of WBS today.” 

“What? She was pissing me off.” 

“Check yourself, Lana.” 

She rolls her eyes, leaning back in her chair to keep watching the performance. 

“Who called Historia a homewrecker?” Lana asks. 

“I mean. I’m sure someone must have at some point. Do they need a reason to say what they do about her? ” 

Lana shrugs as Eren watches Historia slide to the side, as you rise up on the platform, the microphone fixed in your hand as you sing. 

So that’s where you were. 

The crowd erupts into cheers as you strut into the middle of the stage, at you and Historia together again hand in hand, as you reiterate the chorus for a second time. With your eyes, razor focused on him and Hyla. He can feel the cameras moving to the two of them, trying his best to contain his shock. 

Now I'm a homewrecker, I'm a slut I got death threats filling up semi-trucks Tell me who I am, guess I don't have a choice All because I liked a boy 

Eren swallows hard. And then the music cuts out as you and Historia scutter out to the edges of the stage and the middle stage rises. Clearly a scene set up to look like a beach, there’s two people seated on the blanket in the middle, hands linked together. 

“Oh my fucking god. Eren.” Lana says, hand squeezing his. 

“What?” 

“It’s you. You and Y/N. On the beach.” 

He refocuses his eyes to the two people on the stage and feels his cheeks burning when he realizes. The girl on the left is one he knows all too well. It’s the girl Hyla picked to impersonate you during the Girlfriend skit. And the one on the left - a guy with short hair, green eyes, and the exact jacket he was wearing that night. 

“Do you still belong to me? Are you still mine?” the guy repeats, his voice sounding wimpy. 

“We shouldn’t. We can’t.”  

“Don’t make me beg. You’re the only thing that’s mine.” 

Eren feels the chill run down his spine. At the scene, the memory burning in his mind, as he rewatches it on stage. And everyone else gets to dig into it too, the way Hyla did when she found out. 

The guitar, the tattoos on their arms, the fact that it’s the same dress from that night, the same outfit he was wearing down to the details. 

He can’t even be mad. He deserves this one.The music starts up again and you walk out again, singing again. 

When everything went down, we'd already broken up Please tell me who I am, guess I don't have a choice All because I liked a boy Ah (A boy) Ah (A boy) Ah All because I liked a boy 

You give him a satisfying smirk, reveling in the shocked look on his face and his pink cheeks, as you wrap your hand in Historia’s, the two of you lifting them together in the air as they all start chanting your names back to you. 

--

“Can I talk to you guys?” 

Geto and Gojo look up from the cards they’re shuffling in their hands and give you a nod as they set the cues down, hands on your shoulders as they lead you to the other side of the stage. 

“I never got to thank you. For letting me take over your ensemble showcase. I know you guys are really proud of this show and the entire cast and I appreciate you letting me use the time.” 

Gojo smiles, giving your shoulder a harsh squeeze as he brushes it away. 

“We love drama. And you’re part of our cast now too. Even though we’re basically giving you the Junpei treatment.” 

You give the two of them a smile. 

“I actually appreciate it, though. This-this is important for me and you’re kind enough to support me.” 

“Sukuna gave us a very convincing talk. About you, your character - about what a big deal it was to you to take your name back like this. We all but had to listen. And power to you for how you’re doing it.” Geto responds, giving you a smile. 

“Sure you don’t like him? At least if he calls you a whore in public it won’t come out of nowhere. He’d definitely say it to your face first!” Gojo says, laughing. Geto glares and immediately smacks him in the stomach. 

“Ignore him. He was raised in a barn. By wolves.” Geto responds, definitively. They both walk away with smiles on their faces, talking in hushed tones as they head towards the stage. 

You readjust the ends of the beaded dress as you give yourself one last look in the mirror, hands nervously itching with the thought of the performance ahead of you in your mind. 

“Need help?” Marco asks, gesturing to your shoes. 

“Yeah, thanks.” you respond and he gives you a non-committal nod. 

You slip the garter belt over your knee before dipping your legs into the boots, Marco’s hands quick to steady you from behind the second you waver in the air. You give him a grateful smile through the mirror before turning around, hands firm on his arms as you talk. 

“I-I really appreciate you, Marco. I know you wanted to stay neutral with all the stuff that happened so I know that this is a big deal that you’re doing this for me.” you say. 

“I’m on your side. But you know, his too. We-we all grew up together and I just think if we all talked about everything we- ” 

“Did you try to talk to him?” you ask. 

You know the answer. Eren didn’t even bother to pick up his phone. 

“Yeah, but-” 

“Marco. I think we all know he’s long gone. He-he’s not our Eren anymore.” 

“We haven’t even had a chance to talk this through yet.” Marco responds, voice soft as he gathers your hair before placing it flat against your shoulders. 

“Can’t talk to someone who doesn’t want to talk to you first, Marco. You can’t help people who don’t want to be helped.” 

“I just feel like I could have tried harder. This couldn’t have come out of nowhere.” 

You place your hands on his shoulders and squeeze hard. 

“It’s not your fault. He was always going to be like this, nothing you could do would stop him.” 

He nods, halfheartedly, as the group of them all whistle as you walk out - the entire cast of Attack on Titan and Jujutsu Kaisen - on the side of the stage. 

“You look sexy, Y/N.” 

“Stop it, Mikasa. You’re making me blush.” you respond, giving her a wink. 

“Yeah. Stop it, Mikasa.” Jean grumbles, giving you an irritated smile. 

“She’s going to steal your girl.” Yuuji states, giving Jean an elbow to the side. 

“Not if I do it first.” Nobara says, giving you a big gleeful smile as she places a kiss to your cheek. 

You smile at them as you take your little spot on the cue, giving them all a thumbs up that they all return. And rise to the stage, for the second time, to end Eren Jaeger’s career. 

--

For the second time this night, Eren’s looking for you in the crowded room and finding you in the last place he wants to see you. On the stage, singing with that venomous look in your eyes. 

“Wait. Is she in Jujutsu Kaisen?” Myka asks, leaning over Lana whose cheeks are bright pink from the way she’s been downing the drinks every time they pass. 

“She must be if she’s in the fucking ensemble performance.” 

But I got smarter, I got harder in the nick of time Honey, I rose up from the dead, I do it all the time I got a list of names, and yours is in red, underlined I check it once, then I check it twice, oh!

Your outfit, following the trend of almost everything you wore tonight, has the hole burning into Eren’s stomach. And that look that you’re giving, that you’re directing towards him as you stare into his eyes, has his cheeks burning with embarrassment and shame. 

That and the fact that you’ve been walking his look alike on the stage like a dog. And made references to every hurt piece of him that he’s shared with you. His strained relationship with his brother, the fact that he was all but mediocre in the acting industry with only three awards to his name, and that he vomited when he kissed Hyla on that yacht in front of the entire world on stage. 

You’re coming for blood. He’s getting drained of it. 

He spots Lana to his left scrolling on her phone between the seats, eyebrows pushed together in frustration. 

“Is it that bad?” he asks. 

“Not good, Eren. They hate you. Love her. Everything in between.” 

“More proof, right?” Eren asks. 

“You bet.” she responds 

The world moves on, another day another drama, drama But not for me, not for me, all I think about is karma And then the world moves on, but one thing's for sure Maybe I got mine, but you'll all get yours

And each consecutive image you put on stage gets worse, only twisting in Eren’s mind in how he’s going to swirl his way out of this one. Identical, plastic models sniffing up lies of cocaine - clearly meant to be Hyla and her friends. His doppelganger, this time, very literally sucking the dick of fame. And the worst of all, the bridge. 

You stand in the center, the music slowing down as you rise into the air, above the crowd of people. And suddenly the light shines bright on them - on the cast of Attack on Titan and Jujutsu Kaisen - trying to crawl to the top of the pedestal you’re standing on. Showing that you’re above them all, exactly like he said you were. 

And what’s worse? The first person you kick off is Historia. 

I don't trust nobody and nobody trusts me I'll be the actress starring in your bad dreams I don't trust nobody and nobody trusts me I'll be the actress starring in your bad dreams

“I don’t get it. Why did she just kick Historia off?” Myka asks. 

“I think you should lay off the crack. It’s really degenerating your neurons in there. You already had so little to work with.” Lana says, placing her hands flat against Myka’s cheeks as she aggressively shakes her head. 

“That’s what Eren said in his interview. That Y/N would do anything, to get to the top of the pedestal. Use people to help her just to kick them off. It’s smart.” Hyla states, swirling the straw in her glass between her fingers. 

--

You lay against your seat, Reiner’s hands on your shoulders massaging into the taut skin as the anxiety builds of your last performance, of your closing act of the night. You’ve successfully tangled your way through the two you had before - virtually similar to your pop songs, but a little bit more aggressive. But the third. The entire nature of it - so unfamiliar, so unlike anything you’ve ever done that it has the waves of panic building in your stomach. 

“What’s the next award? It’s the last one, right?” you ask. 

“Best Actor.” Historia responds, tangling her ankle with yours under the chair. 

Levi and Hange walk out onto the stage, hands pressed together as they give each other sweet smiles, and the gold envelope glitters in their hand. 

“Fuck. He won, didn’t he?” you ask. 

“Huh? Why do you say that?” 

“Levi and Hange are presenting. That-that means Eren won.” you respond, Jean giving a deep heavied sigh as you all focus your eyes back up to Levi and Hange on the stage. 

They’re readjusting the microphones as they clear their throats, voices booming through the speakers of the auditorium. 

“The fact that we’re standing here is proof enough that a very talented actor has won one of the most coveted awards tonight.” Hange says, a wide smile spread across their face. 

You give Jean a smug smirk. 

“We won’t be mincing our words. This kid has been special to us since he was fifteen and while we commend all the other actors in this category, we’d like to take our time to comment on how far he’s come. We’ve had the privilege of seeing him from the start, how far he’s grown to where he is now.” 

“Eren. You’ve always been our sweet boy, straight from the start. So determined, so ambitious in what you wanted to do. Many people were quick to write you off as a straight off the bat from the work of your parents and your brother that came before you but…..your zest, your genuine want to be seen in your art has always stood out to us. We truly commend your dedication to your art, one you’ve possessed since you were younger than half of the idiots in our industry.” Hange says. 

“I’ve pushed you around kid. Farther than anyone else but only because you’re the one who could handle it. I know that you’re one to take what’s thrown at you and push it forward, to make your way out of it to do something great. I’ve never said it to you often, but I hope you know that we’re immensely proud of you.” Levi says, warm tears filling his eyes. 

“Read the card, Levi. Poor kid has been itching to have his hands on one of these for seven years now.” 

Levi smiles, even wider when he reads the name on the card and leans into the microphone. 

“The award for Actor in a Best TV Series goes to Eren Jaeger.” 

The crowd erupts into cheers as everyone stands, the lot of you included, as you all crane your necks towards Eren, who's stuck in his seat as Lana shakes his arm at his side, excitedly jumping up and down next to him. Eren gives her a nod as she pulls him up, wrapping his arms around her before walking straight onto the stage, the look on his face solemn as Levi and Hange wrap his arms around him next, pressing kisses to the sides of his cheeks as they hand him the award. 

The worst part? All you want to do is be by his side. Congratulating him on the first thing he told you in confidence, the one you’ve both held over your heads for years. 

Eren sighs as he looks down at the award, tears spilling out of his eyes as he looks back up at the crowd, eyes landing on yours. You swallow hard as he looks at you, for too long, before walking straight off the stage. 

Without making a speech. 

Levi and Hange are quick to follow, confused looks on their faces as they rush after him. Gojo and Geto are pushed onto the stage as they push send to commercial, the ushers at the side quick to lift you up and lead you back stage, for your performance - earlier than you expected. 

When you get backstage, Eren’s crying real tears - and arguing with Levi and Hange this time. 

“What the fuck was I supposed to do?” he screams, shoving Levi off to the side as he attempts to storm off, Hange and Levi catching the ends of his sleeve before he can. 

“Eren. Just calm down. We’ll help you. The moves you’re making are smart if you’ll follow them through and-” 

“No, Hange! Fuck this. I-I can’t do this. Do you know how humiliating this entire night has been for me? To have every fucking thing I’ve done thrown in my face just to win this now?” 

That’s your last straw. 

You tap on his shoulder and when he turns your way, you slap him straight across the face. He brings his hand up to his cheek, rubbing the pink spot as you feel your blood burn under your skin. 

“Are you fucking serious, Eren?” 

“What?’ he responds, shock apparent in his voice. 

“You got what you fucking wanted. You got the award you’ve been dreaming about. And-and you’re throwing a bitch fit back here about it?” 

“Don’t talk about things you don’t understand, Y/N.” he responds, murmuring under his voice as he makes the move to walk away, Levi and Hange opening their arms for him to move. 

“What don’t I understand? Make it make sense to me because it’s pretty fucking clear. You have everything you want and you’re still not fucking happy, are you?” 

“Is this what you think I want, Y/N? Do you think I enjoy you yelling at me? Do you think I like Hange and Levi being disappointed in me or even care about this fucking plastic in hand?” he spits, face a few feet from yours as he clenches his hands around the trophy, before dropping it onto the floor and letting it crack. 

“God. How many times are you going to keep breaking shit without any care in the world? The camera, the fucking award you picked over me, Connie’s fucking livelihood, my heart. All you’ve ever cared about is yourself. From the start.” 

“Y/N. That’s enough.” Levi says, tone firm. 

“No. No, he has some fucking audacity saying the things he did to me. That I’m not famous enough for you? Think long and hard, Eren. You’ve had every fucking card stacked in your favor - famous parents, real talent, two people who have fucking mentored you through the entire thing. The entire thing and you still couldn’t get this award until now. Where the hell do you get off telling me all that? I’m better than you. I’ve always been better than you.” 

Eren sighs, taking a deep breath as he turns back to face you. 

“You’re an asshole, Eren. Zeke stopped fucking talking to you, there’s a reason why everyone sided with me and not you and maybe it’s because you’re the fucking problem.” 

“Y/N.” Hange states, tone warning again. 

“You’re impossible, Eren. Who-who the fuck plays games with people like that? I-I fucking adored you, Eren. You were my entire world. Hell, you still fucking are. And the fact that you knew that, that you let me get that involved with you when you had no intention of seeing any of it through, of knowing me and loving me. You’re horrible.” you spit out, voice cracking as the tears spill out of your eyes. 

Eren takes a deep breath before walking, stopping short of the curtain, the grand piano sitting in the middle of the stage. And he turns back, the look on his face so pained when he talks again. 

“You want to know how I know our love wasn’t real, Y/N?” Eren asks, voice strained in his throat. 

“Please. I’d love to hear it.” 

“I had my suspicions. That you ended things with me because your team wanted you to end things with Ricky James. People had been whispering it in my ears for days. For months, that I wasn’t good enough for you. But I pushed past that, because I know you. I knew that you loved me. You released London Boy and my first instinct was to not believe it. You started dating him and I still thought it was fake. You filmed movies with Sukuna and did god knows what for all of it. I had faith that you loved me. You convinced me that you had faith in me.” 

You swallow hard, bile burning down your throat. 

“Our love wasn’t real because you never extended that grace to me. You didn’t have any faith in me like I did in you.” Eren responds, pushing past you as he walks off. 

You watch him walk off as Danny and Sareen hold your outfit for your last performance in the air, the flowy purple dress for your last song, You wipe your tears, head reeling, as they all but push you into the room, doing the motions for you as Eren’s words ring in your ears. And suddenly you’re on the stage, sitting on the piano bench, a few feet away from Eren - eyes rimmed pink as Lana rubs circles into his back. 

You place your hands on the keys, the tears still streaming down your face as you start playing the piano. And the second you start playing, you look to your right to see Eren’s head in his knees, sobs racking out of his chest, as you start to sing the song, fighting back your own. 

And I try to be tough, but I wanna scream How could anybody do the things you did so easily? And I say I don't care, I say that I'm fine But you know I can't let it go, I've tried, I've tried, I've tried for so long It takes strength to forgive, but I don't feel strong

All you can think of is Eren hovering over your shoulders, hands resting on top of yours as he moves your fingers, his silent cheers whenever you played the chords on your own. You fight the shake in your hands as you sing on. 

Ooh, do you think I deserved it all? Ooh, your flowers filled with vitriol You built me up to watch me fall You have everything, and you still want more

You shakily stop, piano pausing as you reach foward to wipe the tears on your face, granting you cheers from the crowd. Before you place your hands on the keys for the last time, finishing off your nightmare.

It takes strength to forgive, but I don't feel strong I try to be tough, I try to be mean But even after all this, you're still everything to me And I know you don't care, I guess that that's fine But you know I can't let it go, I've tried, I've tried, I've tried for so long It takes strength to forgive, but I'm not quite sure I'm there yet It takes strength to forgive, but

You finish as you look to the crowd, all of them standing in the air as you stand up from the bench, knees all but ready to buckle as they give you a standing ovation. And instead of Gojo and Geto walking out, to close out the show the way you rehearsed, Levi and Hange are standing on the stage again, solemn looks on their faces as they hold a golden envelope in their hands. 

You choke out your sob. 

No. 

This is not how you’re going to get this. 

“We’re back for-for something that’s been long overdue.” Hange says, hands shaking as they face towards you, wiping the tears off of your face as the despair sinks in. 

“Y/N. You’ve always been talented from the start. You’ve always been humble, down to Earth, and kind in a way that many people in our industry haven’t seen. It’s why we think you were such a fan favorite during the early years of Attack on Titan - you had extended grace and humanity to kids who were all but robbed of it from living in the spotlight since the second they were born.” Levi says, tone hollow as he talks. 

“And beyond upstanding character, a genuine love for those around you, your willingness to push yourself, to make yourself better through all facets of your art has always been admirable. You've always been ambitious but brave and kind despite it all. We’re immensely proud of you, kid.” Hange says. 

Levi opens the envelope, reading off as the crowd erupts into cheers. 

“Y/N L/N has been on our radar for her work since the second we caught our first sight of her. It was only appropriate that she won for the best of her works, hence the perceived delay in the commendation of this award. For her acting work - in the infamous “Thank You” scene of Attack on Titan, for her poise fully skilled dances on her Ribbons tour, and her mastery of the piano in her song the grudge, the Institute is happy to induct you into one of our most timeless awards - the triple threat.” Levi reads off, the crowd only getting louder as they both come to your sides, hands warm and hard on your shoulders as every part of your body aches in their arms and the cheers burn your ears. 

You follow Eren’s suit. And make no speech as you storm off the stage. 

You can feel your chest heaving up and down as you crouch to the ground, knees hiked to your chest as you push your head into your lap, tears staining the fabric of your dress. The air in your nose is bearing, eyes searing red as Levi and Hange are at your sides, rubbing into your skin as they whisper words that barely make it to your ears. 

You look up to find a crowd of people - Historia, Jean, Mikasa, and Marco - walking up to excitedly push you into hugs and press kisses to your cheeks as you feel your body get tangled in the crowd, your emotions, your mind entirely elsewhere. 

“God, Y/N. You’re fucking amazing, you know that?” Danny says, wrapping his arms around you as Sareen presses a kiss to your cheek. 

“So we’re thinking. You should do a residency tour. Maybe we can call it “the grudge” so you can perform that song at the end of each night. And people will love it since you used to always end the tours with New Year’s Day but now it’ll be this gut wrenching song you wrote about Eren.” 

“Sorry, what?” you croak out. 

“We’ll hit the big cities. Only the United States, fifteen nights in each. Then you can do your triple threat interview and performance at the next award show.” Danny states, already scrolling through the logistics on your phone. 

You sigh. 

“You’re fired.” 

“Huh?” they both say, laughing as they lean over to look at the phone. 

“You’re fired. Both of you.” 

“You can’t be serious, can you?” 

“Dead.” you respond, glaring into their eyes. 

“We’ll talk to you when you’re thinking clearly.” Sareen states. 

“No. No, you’re not going to talk to me at all. I”m-I’m done with you guys. You said I would get to stop running if I fucking did this.” you respond. 

“Oh, sweetheart. Surely you know we weren’t serious?” Sareen says, a shocked look on her face. 

You shove past them and the entire group of people as you move towards your little room in the back, locking the door and barricading your vanity against it. And you let the cries reach you, the air suffocate you you, the words, the cheers, the last seven years ring in your mind till you’ve cried out every last fiber of your being. 

His words ring in your mind. On the very first night, when you got tangled up in this in the first place.

“You’re next level. When your dream comes true, I’ll be right beside you. Telling you that I told you so.” Eren says. 

“Yeah?” 

“Oh yeah, Y/N. We’re best friends. It’s you and me till the end. We’ll be laughing about this when it happens to us.” 

You cry until you can’t anymore. And mourn that the one part of your dream you always wanted - Eren standing next to you telling you he told you so - was the one part you didn’t get to have.

--

an: guys isn't it so sweet!!! their dreams came true :DD

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 @lordbugs @multiplefandomthings @iobeyfandoms @camilo-uwu @justanotherkpopstanlol @mel-star636

#seeingivywrites! #method acting #eren x you #eren x reader #eren x y/n #eren jaeger #eren jaeger x you #eren jaeger x reader #eren jaeger x y/n #eren yeager #eren yeager x you #eren yeager x erader #eren yeager x y/n #aot #aot x you #aot x reader #aot x y/n #aot actor smau #aot actor au #snk #snk x you #snk x reader #snk x y/n #actor eren #actor eren x you #actor eren x reader #actor eren x y/n #eren angst #eren jaeger angst

[lovelauradee]

So, I am an American who had a business trip in Britain so I flew into London for a meeting and met some friends for a few days in the city after. The next week, our client wanted us to meet down at his place in Bath, and perhaps take us to Stonehenge after we concluded our business so that following Sunday, I hopped on a train south.

I had a private room on the train and not long after we departed, we stopped again at a random stop I can’t recall. I went to the bathroom as other passengers boarded, helping a cute brunette up the stairs to board the train. We passed some words, and she gave me a brief devious smile and called me a gentleman before complaining that she is dreading sitting next to some stranger in the main car that is likely to hit on her and make inappropriate comments.

I told her I had a roomette and that she was welcome to join me. I won’t bore you with the details but we spoke about life, literature, kids, and pretty quickly, talking turned to some heavy flirting.

She then told me that not facing the direction the train was moving might make her a bit light headed so she moved to sit beside me. She instinctively placed her hand on my leg, spreading her leg slightly, subtly inviting me to place my hand on her inner thigh.

Just then, the train attendant came to check our tickets as the train departed, we scrambled for our receipts awkwardly as if being caught in some act even though it was completely innocent. Feeling the weight of the moment and relief when he left, we immediately started kissing, her hand gripping my cock over my pants and my fingers massaging her pussy over her panties that were quickly becoming soaked with her juices. Her hand started desperately pulling at my belt and zipper, and she slid off her seat and put herself on her knees before as she pulled out my hard cock. Without hesitation, she started sucking and licking my cock from base to tip like a woman possessed, desperate to take and taste my cum flooding her mouth.

Instead, I lifted her up, threw her into the opposite bench, lifted her legs up, ripped off her panties and began to slowly but methodically devour her gorgeous little pussy. Her legs were shaking and her juices were flooding my mouth. She kept moaning and telling me she wanted to feel me inside her as she came in my face.

After she had cum, she told me she wanted my cock inside her. Her tone got serious, she asked me again if I had kids and if I came to the UK often. I said “no” to both and she replied, “good…I want you to put a baby inside me, then leave and never speak to me again”.

I told her I would fuck her and fill her with seed if that’s what she wanted but, since she already had a man, that a baby wasn’t necessary. She said “no, I want a fucking another baby, and I want it to be yours.”

With that, I grabbed her by the throat and forced my thick cock into her tight little pussy, resulting in her legs quaking again as she let out a moan of ecstasy and relief. We fucked all over the roomette, at one point stopping at another stop, her hand planted against the window and her mouth gapping as I pounder her from behind. The faces of people on the platform was one of awe as they saw her getting railed.

Neither of us cared who saw us, so we kept fucking and she came multiple times on my cock, gasping at me to give her a baby each time.

Finally, I lifter her up, sat back on the bench and let her slide down my shaft and ride my cock. She rolled her hips, insatiably milking my cock while whispering to me, “yes, give it to me. Give me all of it.” My shaft began to throb and convulse, and I looked up at her sweaty brow and she looked back at me with that devious smile as she felt me fill her with seed.

Seconds later, we had just gotten some of our clothes back on when we heard a knock at the door again. We invited the attendant to open the door as we sat by one another again, this time looking sweaty and exhausted but fully clothed as if nothing had happened.

He said that he received a complaint about noise and stopped by to see if everything was okay. We smiled, told him all was well as we all seemed to look at her panties on the floor at the same time.

Not long after, she sucked me back to hard, and we fucked again, this time, I held my hand over her mouth as I pumped her full of seed. The ride seemed to fly by as we laughed, fondled one another, and fucked…each time unloading inside her.

Before we departed, we exchanged numbers. For better or worse, she was not ovulating so we never had a baby, but we exchanged info and decided to keep up in case I came back to the UK so we could try again. She eventually told me she had a tumblr, and here she is.

This sweet little brunette you all follow and lust over, lovelauradee, is exactly the charming, gorgeous, and cum needy little slut you think she is.

I’m sure she remembers…

This may have definitely happened ;)

[slamminslamminmcgill]

listen to me LISTEN TO ME lalo.. with a breeding kink... i may be a basic ass bitch but (runs away)

OOO ok i got thoughtz :3 (if i kept this in my drafts for a month no i didnt)

warning: breeding rp, mild dubcon and misgendering (now hear me out 🥵)

anatomical terms: pussy/cunt

growing up gay in a cartel family, lalo was expected to find a wife and have children, something he had absolutely no desire to do. he could not fathom spending the rest of his life with a woman. and he loved his little cousins, sure, but he never wanted to be tied down with children of his own. he doesn't really like kids that much anyway.

THAT BEING SAID

he's VERY into breeding roleplay. it's cathartic for him to fuck with the idea of traditional gender roles especially bc he knows his family would be appalled. the shame makes it hotter >:3

and also the primal nature of it too bc mans enjoys ROUGH sex. grunting and growling as he pounds into you from behind. hot and sweaty and just desperate to fill you up and mark you as his.

also if his partner is transmasc he gets NASTY with it bc it feels more realistic when you're actually fucking a pussy yfm? it's method acting 😌

CALLING YOU MAMI TOO TO TEASE YOU FUCKING HELP ME (this is my one exception to my no misgendering rule i just think it's hot)

He's enjoying himself as he pumps in and out of you. "Oh, you feel so good, chiquito... I can't wait to knock you up."

You gasp when he says that, partly from shock and partly from pleasure. "Wh-... What?!"

He just repeats himself matter-of-factly. "You heard me. I'm gonna knock you up. And you're gonna carry my child because I told you to. And you do what I say, ¿verdad? (right?)"

You whine and shake your head, grabbing the sheets while he treats your body like a fleshlight. "N-No... No, I don't... Mmm, I don't want a baby, Lalooo..." You say, truthfully, but despite your protests, your cunt squeezes his cock even tighter.

He shushes you and kisses your cheek, "No, no, c'mon, yes you do. Don't lie. You want this. You want me to breed you. Feel how wet you are for me?" When you clench around him, he just laughs. "Aw, look at that! See? Even your body knows what it wants! It wants to get filled up. It wants what it was meant for."

It's so wrong. It's degrading. Your body being used for the most feminine, no, most objectifying thing possible. You know he's just bluffing. He's bluffing, right? He has to be. He doesn't even like kids. But oh god, he makes it sound like the hottest fucking thing in the world. It's another way for him to use your body for his own desires and fantasies. No matter what he threatens you with, you're always left a pathetic, cockhungry mess, going along with whatever he says.

"Don't you worry about a thing, mami. Just lie back and take it. That's it. You're gonna look so cute with a little Salamanca growing inside you, huh? And everyone's gonna know it's mine. They're gonna look at you and know that you're my cute little cumdump. You like that, mami? Heh. Of course you do. Now beg for me to cum inside you, whore."

#anon #ask #better call saul #better call saul x reader #bcs #bcs x reader #better call saul smut #better call saul imagine #better call saul headcanons #better call saul hcs #lalo salamanca #lalo salamanca x reader #lalo salamanca smut #lalo salamanca headcanons #lalo salamanca imagine #lalo salamanca hcs #misgendering tw

[butler-on-beale-street]

I'm not even sure this is a fic rec/suggestion/or just trying to clear the sad horny thoughts from my sad horny brain with another Austin lover, but like... Austin in long term relationship with a gorgeous plus size makeup artist gf who he loves more than anything in the world. She manages to get a job on the Elvis set without his help so they don't tell anyone they're together but Olivia figures it out, and keeps it quiet... until they call cut after scene where Priscilla leaves, and Austin kinda doesn't get up from the floor, still shaking and crying. Olivia throws caution to the wind and yells "GET HER! NOW!" and everyone's confused because what can a makeup artist do about it, but does it anyway and she immediately helps him... he realizes its her and starts clinging to her and begging her to never leave and everyone is just shocked😅 The sex once they're alone would be so desperate/clingy/ sweaty/hot af 😅💦

Oh. My. GOD. Method acting to the EXTREME. I LOVE THIS IDEA HOLY SHIT. Nonnie, well done. I’ll start working on this asap!

#my asks #Anna’s requests #nonnie

[gerrysherry]

Sexual Frustration ( 616 Moon Knight smut)

16+ or 18+ or whatever

actually tame as smut goes mostly mastrubation and pining. Oh and implied pool sex but implied ok? I call the inverse of PWP, "smut what smut?"

My first smut fic in years, be nice

Summary: Marlene has fallen for Jake and isn’t sure if acting on that is cheating or not, Jake has long decided that he can only have a stable relationship as Steven, and Khonshu  who can hear all of their thoughts is forced to play matchmaker.

“Hello, Steven” Marlene said as she embraced her lover. He wore the flat cap, the stupid jacket and stranger false mustache.

The man who liked to called Jake when in this costume pulled away: “let me shower and change into Steven real quick and then I’m all yours.”

“I want you now,” Marlene purred.

“Listen, lust is a hell of a drug but do you really want sweaty tired ol’ Jake when your boyfriend Steven is one switch away? And I told you, I’m a strict method acting kind of man, I need to change clothes to…” Jake started rambling.

“I want you as you are right now, just one kiss for comparison’s sake and then you’re free to go,” she compromised. Meet and in the bedroom and moon help me the mustache stays on during sex was not a line that worked outside of badly written smut.

“Why didn’t you just say so, lady?” he said and he gave her that little nod actors give each other before kissing on stage. she nodded back.

He kissed differently. He kissed differently. She knew his handwriting was different between selves but this was ridiculous. 

He pressed into her with a hunger that was nevertheless chaste enough to not involve tongue. There was a roughness to his technique, something down to earth and messy. He didn’t treat her like porcelain the way Steven did or have that hungry look in his eye that invited her to take him, maybe even hurt him a little that she suspected belonged to Marc. No this incarnation of her lover was all give, he gave exactly what was asked as he knew better than she knew herself. She tried to savor the difference.Then he pulled away.

“I need to shower,” he said in a voice more like Steven’s own. Her boyfriend disappeared out of sight. 

We have a perfectly good pool in the bedroom, Jake. She thought 

She made her way to the indoor pool, stripping off slinky night dress and panties. She  waded in, letting the lukewarm water caress her skin.

Settling in a nice nook she leaned back and idly slid a hand between her legs, idly she made little circles. It was better when Steven did it. Really. Now imagining any of them with their hand… yep that did it. Women are easy to please if you know where to touch. The problem was most men didn’t. But not Steven.

If that’s how Jake kissed, imagine what sex  with him would be like. Hm, would the fake mustache get in the way? He did eat with it on and bodily fluids couldn’t be much more acidic than coffee. Maybe she could encourage him to grow out his natural beard.

She had to substitute three of her own fingers for his two but she made it work. She was already wet from her first go round so it didn’t long to come the second time. Her body reacted on its own, throwing her head back and she had to bite down on her free hand to stifle a moan. Steven had talked her head off about involuntary bodily responses and how some soldiers came out of coma’s trying to shoot or putting doctors in headlocks or on the flip side how half of climax was something we barely control. The subject disturbed her no matter how much it intrigued Steven and they decided to never talk about it again.

She hoped he wasn’t wanking in the shower as that meant more delay to actual sex. Then again it was also exciting because it meant the mere thought of her could drive him over the edge. Lost in thought, she waited.

****

Jake peeled out of his clothes and stared in the mirror. When he was younger the reflection would move and Marc would talk to him that way. Now he just heard the others in his head. They had actually tested him for schizophrenia and he didn’t have that. Sometimes they said extreme PTSD caused this. Disassociation the doctors had called it.

“Hey, Jake is finally getting some action! Good for you buddy” the bright voice of Steven rang in his head.

“You aren’t jealous?” Jake asked.

“Nah, I’m you, remember? We’re good. This is just like Loomis and Crompton. I’m here to help, literally my role in this little farce we call our life.” Steven said but his tone belied a sneaking jealousy.

“If it comes to that, will you help me not say or do anything stupid?” Jake said, trying to get himself back into Steven’s good graces.

“Literally why Marc created me, Jake buddy.” Steven said.

“You want to take over?” Jake offered. They had to do it eventually, Marlene was waiting.

“Nah, I think you want that shower for yourself.” Steven said and did Jake’s reflection wink at him?

Jake nodded. Showers had that weird habit of being a mix of being either not quite warm enough or scalding. Jake fiddled with the knob for hot water before he found an acceptable temperature. His body flushed at the heat. He was painfully aware of being hard. He wanted to turn the temperature down and stop thinking these thoughts…

I'm her boyfriend too, damn it.

That’s right! Nothing to be ashamed of!

Er… would you mind sitting this one of Steven? Please?

I’ve seen you abuse yourself plenty of times. Why is today different?

Abuse myself? What are you, a Victorian crusader against Onanism?

I… I can call it the scientific term if you want…

Nah, I just want it quiet while I…

Hm.. quite, sorry…

He tried to not think of what he looked like or even the girl who made him feel this way just sliding his hand up and down. Finally, as the pace quickened and he found himself close, Jake allowed himself to remember and to imagine. To his dismay the memories he got were a heady mix of Marc’s exes, Steven’s current relationship with Marlene and memories of people he’d wished to get with but didn’t. Not all of them were women either. Through the lust filled haze Jake wasn’t even too bothered by it. Sitting there trying to catch his breath, think of anything but that pleasant all consuming blankness that had the bitter aftertaste of a blackout. He should clean this place up before it dried up and made some interesting black light friendly stains. Perhaps he should make it a cold shower before yielding to Steven.

****

“Took you long enough,” Marlene said.

“Sorry, had a lot of thoughts,” Steven said cagily.

He half walked and half swam to join her.

When she put a hand on his thigh, he leaned into the touch. When she snaked it over between his legs….

That’s when he started hearing the other two. No, just Jake. Marc was polite enough to not make his presence known. Even if it was a simple “oh please yes”. Jake however made the mistake of saying just that.

Jake dear, wait your turn.

I ain’t gonna get a turn, Steven, she only likes you

Ok just shut up will you, luv?

Silence.

“Sorry Darling, where were we?” Steven asked

“Here,” his girlfriend said and resumed the movement of her hand.

To Steven’s horror, it brought him no pleasure as the sinking feeling of being watched hung heavy on his heart. The fear he experienced many years ago that Marc would come and tear away whatever good thing Steven had found, that Marc wouldn’t share that he would take it away. Those days were long behind them, hell Steven was the legal identity now and Marc a blowback to a darker more savage age, but Jake, created late, was always the wild card.

Marc he could trust, but Jake? Not that he worried that Lockley was a secret murderer, Psycho style but cheating him out of his own sex life…. possible.

I can’t do anything with you watching!

But dammit I’m you, you’re me, we’re two parts of the same personality 

Don’t you dare quote Sheckley at me! out now!

Jake fled and Steven’s fleeting arousal with him.

Not to be deterred by small details, Steven kissed Marlene and said again: “Now, then, my thoughts are very loud tonight, how about we focus on you, eh?”

She nodded but behind the mask of anticipation and arousal, he noticed deep concern for his mental health.

***

“Hey, Khonshu old boy, how are you holding up?” Steven asked. He talked to the statue of Khonshu in the hall all the time. Even if it was a fake with no magical properties whatsoever/ Occasionally he even hallucinated a reply from the statue.

“Better than you. Do you know what it's like to see your adherents, who are a congregation of two at the moment, suffer when happiness is at their fingertips?”

“Er, no” Steven said.

“It’s like watching a sex farce. It was funny the first three times not it just gets in the way of everything. She likes you in all four of your aspects and is determined to bed you as Pathfinder. Why not yield to that?”

“It’s just wrong you know. What will people think if they catch her and Jake? That she’s cheating on her husband with the cabbie who crashes here sometimes?” Steven said.

Jake begrudgingly admitted this was a solid assessment of the situation.

“The robes make the man. When you are naked, who can tell you apart from Pathfinder?”

“Well when you put it like that…” Steven said.

His other two selves were laughing at him.

“Go forth and fulfill your desires. If only so I don’t have to watch them permeate your mind and fester like an untreated wound.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever beakface. Love you too,” Jake said as he switched to front.

The impression of a hand clapped to a face and voice: “Oh, Pathfinder! What will Embracer and I ever do with you?”

Jake was already out the door and into his shared room with Marc. It was the bed he slept in when Marlene was out of town. He hated the large bed if it was only him in there and besides it was safer if he would be Marc in the safety of his own room.

He put on his best street clothes, borrowing, with Marc’s permission, an old band t-shirt with the nice design and wearing the newer jeans. He didn’t even think about how silly he looked with the cap and the jacket but barefoot and going commando. He made his way back to the second floor master bedroom where Marlene waited.

****

“Oh Khonshu, am I selfish for wanting two men at once?” Marlene asked, facing the statue in the bedroom. After Steven came to terms with the fact the statue was a fake they made a few more. Now the house had four of them. One for each aspect of Khonshu. Steven had just talked to the one in the hall. Maybe she could have some luck with the one in the bedroom.

I do not think that should be your concern oh Marlene, daughter of Peter Alraune. Your father and Marc’s grandfather were beloved by me. I do what I can to help their descendants. I helped bring you together did I not? 

Great I’m going mad just like Steven 

Oh I’m sorry did you not ask for my advice, just now?

I’m talking to a statue

You are talking to a god!

You sound like a petulant child, but considering you’re Amun-Ra’s young boy son, eternally pre-pubescent, I am not at all surprised

You are truly your father’s daughter. Now really you want to bed two aspects of the same person. Do you think he is the first one to serve me, gifted of many minds?

He’s not?

No and that avatar had a perfectly good marriage, to an avatar of Thoth, I believe. It was centuries ago. He married all three of her, or them, I suppose.

Back when polygyny was legal no doubt

Quite! 

So you give us your…blessing?

Ha! You get your love of puns from your father. But I will also accept it as a form of worship. I am a fertility god after all….

Seriously?!

Yes! Now ready yourself  young Alraune, my avatar approaches

Marlene sat back down on the bed and tried to look as seductive as possible.

“Jake Lockley as I live and breathe,” Marlene said, in her best impression of a southern belle. She wasn’t going to accidentally call him Steven again. Jake chuckled.

“Got it in one, but don’t shout it from the rooftops,” He said.

“Why the hell not, everyone here knows you and Steven are one and the same.” Marlene said as  she turned to the side letting him see more of her body.

“Er…. We’re different roles sweetheart, with different parts to play, but yes… we share a mind, it's not like them horror movies.” Jake faltered. He had to be telling the truth, you don’t fake that kind of sincerity.

“Life rarely is. Is that a Pink Floyd t-shirt?” She asked to change the subject.

“Yep. Marc and I used to really like Dark Side of the Moon when we was younger.” Jake said. He sat down at the foot of the bed, still fully dressed.

“But not Steven?” She  asked.

“Nah he was classier than that. Salutatorian of the class of 69’. My memories of summer of 69 are quite different than his… not in an amnesia way just in a I remember girls and he remembers books way.” Jake said. She hated when  he tried to mask his condition, whatever it was.

“Your first love?” She prompted.

“Nah…. Marc’s and Steven’s first girlfriend, I was mostly just watching.” He said. Now that sounded abnormal. Until then he swore up and down these were roles. Now he tells her they not only had different ways of kissing but also different memories and could watch each other. Maybe one day she could whisper ‘like what you see?’ in Steven’s ear and catch whichever …. other guy was watching and get a blush or a rise out of them. She hopes that would be hot and not extremely embarrassing.

“Huh…” she says instead.

“Her name was Beth. It was nice, but she didn’t take the fact that Marc named the voices in his head very well and besides she went to Berkeley and we joined the Marines.” Jake said matter of factly. Steven talked about his exes with guilt on his face. So he did hear voices after all. But he wasn’t schizophrenic. She knew he wasn’t schizophrenic.  Her brother was a psychiatrist and both Peter and Steven said he didn’t have schizophrenia, so she trusted them both.

“I actually only had one previous relationship with my ex- husband. Erik Fontaine.” Marlene admitted, “we divorced because he didn’t want kids and wanted to live in one place all his life while Dad would go wherever the expedition took. Besides if I wanted to retire to a life of monotony it would be with you…. three.”

The gasp that escaped Jake’s lips made her want to hold him forever. If she learned anything about Steven and his alter egos is behind the posturing each was equally insecure and desperate for love.

“Listen I love the hat but…” Marlene said, making a gesture of removing a hat and bowing.

“I understand…. Can I…. Put it back on when we got to sleep?” He asked. He had the countenance of a young boy asking to bring his teddy bear on a road trip. Her little brother had said phrases like that as a kid. How could she say no to those eyes? Steven’s eyes?

She nodded. He placed it gingerly on the nightstand as if it were a glass and not a damn hat.

Marlene stifled a laugh. He stopped.

“That shirt looks good on you but it’ll look better on the floor,” she said. She needed to get him out of those clothes and into bed as quickly as possible.

“Ooh a classic! Never thought I’d be on the receiving end of that pick up line. Good one!” He said. He smiled in a way Steven never smiled.

He stripped off his jacket and shirt.

After a pause he slid out the jeans as well. She was interested to note that has naked underneath and that he was quite hard. Just the way she wanted him.

He hesitated but then moved towards, a hand tracing his face. Oh no she needed to stop him before he made a mistake.

“Oh and Jake?” She said, stopping him in his tracks.

“Yes, blondie?” He asked as he settled beside her.

“The mustache stays on,” she purred.

“Glad you like it, dear” Jake said and smiled that smile he had. He nodded. His hand left his face.

She nodded as well and kissed him. There was a hunger there she had only permitted herself when she wound up with Marc. Finally she pulled away.

“It won’t ruin if we fool around will it?” She said as she shifted to a better position 

“The mustache? Yeah it might… but Steven bought the things in bulk. I can ruin as many of them as I want. Now what do you have in mind, Lady?” Jake said and with each sentence the grin on his face widened.

“Well I thought you could put that mouth of yours to good use,” she said, gesturing vaguely at herself.

“Ah!” He said and shifted again.

Somewhere they both heard distant booming laughter. They ignored it not even suspecting that both heard the exact same voice.

Notes:

Edgar Loomis and Alistair Crompton are from Sheckley's "The Humours" and the earliest positive portrayal of DID in science fiction. Loomis who much more sexually experienced helps his new headmate Crompton deal with dating. The two were separated into different bodies by SCIENCE, finally together after they are legally allowed to share a body again. They have to constantly negotiate because like all alters/headmates they have widly different preferences in everything. Steven doesn't mention it but the last alter/headmate Dan Stack is a very similar to Marc because that would likely upset Marc.

Khonshu references Fatima/Ali/Paladin (past Moon Knight) and Hassan (past avatar of Thoth) who do eventually marry. They are OCs from "and they were moonmates" but they're canon to me.

Instead of worrying about DID everyone worried whether the moon boys had schizophenia

Ok so Khonshu's personality and the way the team Moon Knight communicate is more reminiscent of later comics but please it's funnier if I give them accurate DID symptoms and have Khonshu talk to Marlene.

Marc's spy grandfather is mentioned again.

#set in the 80s #and it shows #period typical ableism #moon knight fanfiction #moon knight comics #smut #winner of the best of of context line poll #my fanfiction #my writing

[wherethedeadneversleep]

Luke's Song

"Sam, Luke gave me these words to recite to Lucy. I want to run it by you first to see if she'd approve. I was dubious at first, but your son insisted this would be fine. It starts off like this: 'To the window, to the wall, till the sweat drop down my balls, till all these bitches crawl--"

Cas always talked a lot. That much hadn't changed about him over the years. Unless they were doing research or something similar, Sam often let Cas ramble on while he continued with his business. Right now, it wouldn't have been any different but the mention of Luke's name was unexpected. His eyes grew wide listening to the lyrics that sprang from Cas. He was thankful he hadn't been drinking at that moment or he might have choked on whatever he was drinking. Sam knew he had to interject at some point but he was unsure how to do it. He was even more surprised when Cas finished talking and looked at him expectantly. He cleared his throat, unsure of how to respond.

A small part of him wanted to laugh just thinking about Lucy's face if Cas repeated those song lyrics to her. However, this wasn't a laughing matter and Luke would be in for a surprise when he got home.

Awkwardly he reached up scratching the back of his head. " Cas, I don't think reciting Lil Jon lyrics to Lucy would be the greatest move. Think about it, man. Do you really want to talk about sweaty balls and bitches crawling on the floor to the woman who opened her house to you? And I'll give you another piece of advice. When it comes to taking advice from someone, stay clear of what Luke tells you. I love the boy to death but he's a teenager and teenagers find comedy in things we know shouldn't be said or done. He may think it's funny, but it's not worth the trouble. Respect the woman and her home, and watch your words. Otherwise, you could end up on her bad side. "

Castiel tilted the side of his head as he considered Sam's words. And here he used to be the one mumbling words of philosophy back where he came from, if only aided by drugs and warm bodies to help him cope in a dying world ruled under Lucifer's command.

"Though he's not human," he mused, "he acts very much like one. He's not as serious as Claire."

He paused. The name of his vessel's daughter's name hadn't left his lips in years. He knew she hadn't survived the apocalypse, nor did her mother. So many people died because of the virus, and many more became infected, blood crazed, and far worse.

"The flow of those words are rather… poetic," Castiel couldn't help but admire, shifting back to the present era. "I do want to know the rest of the lyrics one of these days. Maybe the less 'bitch-crawling' version. This Lil' Jon person is inspiring. He could've helped me motivate more people at Camp Chitaqua."

Though looking back, he admittedly was a mess. Coping with drugs, booze, and sex, was his way of survival. He didn't have to rely on such methods now, but he couldn't completely cut himself off from much of it. Much of his so-called sobriety was due to helping Lucy function, by being there as a partner. She'd lost one son by murder, and another to demons. He was her other half who understood what she'd gone through without thinking she was crazy.

"She is worth fighting for, Sam," Castiel admitted in a much more somber, gentler tone. "Much like I care about you and Dean… I care about Lucy. I want to do everything I can for her, even if I am no longer an Angel."

Sam had never been the one to advise because he often made the wrong choices according to Dean. Sam wouldn't lie and say that all the choices he made in the past were the right ones nor would he say that he consistently gave the best advice. The one thing was always true - Sam always did what he thought was right at the time and gave the best advice he could.

" Don't get me wrong, Cas. Luke is an awesome kid. " Sam pointed out. " Claire and Luke had many unexpected things occur in their lives. Luke knows he's different, but at a very young age, he learned how to blend in and just be a kid. Claire on the other hand, she's always felt differently about everything that happened within her family. " His face is slightly distorted because of everything that happened with Cas and his vessel Jimmy.

" I mean it can't be easy for any kid to know their father is gone, but at the same time you see his body walking and talking but it's not him, you know? " Just saying that out loud made him realize how hard it must have been for Luke and Marie when Lucifer was blown out of him. Admittedly, the issues with him and Marie were a bit more complex. Nothing ever seemed easy for them.

" Poetic? " Sam asked, raising his hand to rub the bridge of his nose. " Listen, I'll make a deal with you. You don't resist those words ever again to anyone and I'll get you a copy of the song to listen to. " Maybe this was going to be another one of those choices because after Cas heard the entire song maybe it would get stuck inside his head like a lot of songs did to people. But this was the most sensible thing he could think of off the top of his head.

He couldn't help but arch his brow after hearing the way Cas' tone dropped and the way he spoke about Luci. Now while he said the way he cared about her was much like the way he cared about him and Dean, it sounded like a little more than that to him. Was Cas falling for a mortal after all these years? Wait did Cas even know what all embodied into a relationship, besides what he had learned from the pizza man on TV? Then again this was a whole different version of Cas than he was used to. He shook his head, thinking it was best not to think too much about it.

" Sounds like to me you've found your place in this world. Isn't that what families do for each other? They are willing to protect those they care about? They want only good things for them? You're happy when they are happy even if you don't agree with everything going on in their life? " Again saying that out loud made him think about Dean. More than anything he just wished his brother could accept that he was finally happy and had the life he always wanted. Well, he almost had everything he could have ever wanted. A big part of him was still missing and that was his brother. Why did he have to give up one thing to have the other? Why was it so damn hard for him to be able to have both in his life?

" Cas .. " Sam started to shake his head because talking about Dean wasn't going to make things any better. If anything it would only make things worse than they already were. But leave it to Cas to open that bucket of worms. " Sure, he always looked out for me but sometimes you have to learn when it's time to step back and allow the people you care about to make their own choices. To not constantly be riding their back and demanding they are making the wrong choices. " One hand rested against his side while the other raised to rub his brow.

He knew Dean would never accept this life so it was a waste of time to even talk about it. But regardless of how hopeless and drug-addled Cas was, he knew he only had good intentions. " I'm not going to tell you that's a bad choice because it's yours to make and I'm not going to stand here and tell you to pick sides. Just know that if it comes down to it, what happened back in your world won't happen here. I won't let it. "

Regardless of what version of Cas this was, he was family ─ always has been and would always be so. Reaching out he placed his hand on Cas' shoulder. " The whole situation sucks, to be honest. I don't know if speaking terms are even in the cards for Dean and myself. Not after the way he disrespected my wife and son and in general my entire family. I get it he's not happy about me and Lucifer, but the choice I made was the right one. Even if he refuses to see it. "

If it wasn't for that choice there wouldn't be a single person left on the playing field called earth. A selfless act on his part saved everything and within that choice, he gained more than he could have ever imagined. He wished even for the briefest moment that Dean could see that he was truly happy and that there were actual grey areas in his black-and-white world.

"Well, when you're ready to see your brother, you know where to find me," Castiel said. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have an appointment to keep."

Even in the gentle haze of painkillers, he couldn't forget the group of ladies who were eagerly waiting for him at their local meeting spot. It didn't take much to convince a gaggle of lonely, desperate women to listen to his words of wisdom and spirituality, life, and whatever else he could conjure.

Castiel patted Sam on the arm and chuckled. "Keep the faith, Sam. You and Dean will work things out. I look forward to seeing Dean again, but let me know when you're coming by ahead of time. I, uh, might be preoccupied if you stop by unannounced."

#✦ — • VERSE • Where the Dead Never Sleep • #✦ — • CHARACTER • Sam • #✦ — • CHARACTER • Castiel •

[autobot2001]

Hiking Accident

@mediwhumpmay: field medicine @themerrywhumpofmay: hiking trail

With the issues, the medics have dealt with the past week during boot camp, Jasmine and Jolt decide to join the rookies, though they're more trained. Ratchet chose to stay behind in case soldiers who weren't going on the hike end up injured with the training they're doing. Jasmine and Jolt will join ten rookies and five higher-ranked soldiers. "Hopefully, you two being with them will catch anyone else refusing to eat or aren't staying hydrated before it's critical," Ratchet comments, "what's with this group of rookies?" He sighs. The two medics on the hike hope they are prepared and don't have to deal with serious issues.

Ten soldiers are going on the hike along with the Drill Sargent for the group, who is not liking that two medics are joining the group.

"You're so slow," a soldier complains. "It's called pacing." The others watch the soldier shove the 'slow' soldier. This results in the soldier to lose their footing and they fall down the small hill. "You're lucky we're not on a cliff!" The Drill Sargent scolds. The soldier tries to get up but feels pain. The two medics are worried about the soldier but also not pleased a medical issue has arisen. Seriously what is with these rookies? Jolt questions. "They're not going to be able to continue," the Drill Sargent observes, "the rest of you weaklings follow me!" The other soldiers follow the Drill Sargent.

The soldier who fell doesn't want to be touched or moved onto a stretcher to get to the medical cabin. The medics do need to get ab x-ray of the soldier's ankle and leg, but they need to help with the broken bone for the trip back to the medical cabin, as Ratchet will not be able to reach them in vehicle mode. The medics like the capsules they've been using. This time the method of carrying medical supplies allows them to have fast-acting pain relief via injection. This drug still takes fifteen minutes to kick in, which unfortunately results in the medics hearing the soldier scream in pain, but he won't feel pain when they reach the cabin to get an x-ray and treat the injuries. The soldier slowly feels less pain as Jasmine and Jolt carry the stretcher down the trail. All three aren't liking opening a groundbridge isn't an option.

The two medics are sweaty by the time they reach the cabin. They get a short break while Ratchet checks the soldier's vitals and their file. The soldier doesn't feel pain as he's moved onto the X-ray bed. He's worried about what his injuries will do to his military career.

"Good news is you won't need surgery," Ratchet starts, "but you'll be in q cast for six weeks. Full recovery is going to take three to four months." Ratchet knows the soldier doesn't want to hear this, whether they're a rookie or not. He won't add the possible timeframe for physical therapy before the soldier can get back to training. Lennox is informed, and arrangements are made to get the soldier home.

#transformers #transformers fanfiction #transformers Jolt #transformers Ratchet #themerrywhumpofmay #themerrywhumpofmay2023 #mwmday21 #mediwhumpmay #mediwhumpmay2023 #mediwhumpmay day21

[greenmp3]

so did anyone else not realize that in tombstone cas introduces himself as val kilmer because he said "i'm your huckleberry" earlier and that's what val kilmer said in the movie.......

#it's called method acting sweaty #also did he expect dean to introduce himself as kurt russell.... #worms

[sluttywonwoo]

the method || h.js

pairing: actor!joshua x actress!reader

summary: taking method acting to the next level

a/n: this was originally posted on my tom holland blog ( @wazzupmrstark )

warnings: swearing, smut (18+) additional warnings under the cut

word count: 4k

masterlist + ko-fi

additional warnings: simulation of sex and oral (f receiving), degradation, unprotected sex

Joshua’s breath was hot on your face as he panted in your ear, hips thrusting to meet yours. You moaned out, and grasped at the sheets on the bed with one hand, while the other came up to his head to pull on his hair. 

“Cut!”

You jerked your head up, and made eye contact with Mingyu, the director who was muttering something into his mouthpiece. You sighed and flopped back onto the bed as Joshua rolled off of you onto the other side, chest rising and falling dramatically as he tried to catch his breath.

“Are we in trouble?” you whispered

Joshua cracked a smile and pushed sweaty strands of hair out of his face. “I dunno, do you think we are?”

“I can’t imagine that he called cut in the middle of the scene for a good reason,” you said. “You haven’t even cum yet.”

“Well, if this was real life we would’ve stopped rolling like fifteen minutes ago,” he joked.

“I think you’re giving yourself too much credit.”

“Fine, twenty minutes ago.”

You laughed and let your head rest up against his shoulder, letting your mind wander as you both waited for the director to prompt you. 

You’d shot several sex scenes in your acting career- as a woman in Hollywood it was an almost unavoidable chore- but this one felt different, though you couldn’t put your finger on why. The production standards were the same. Small studio, intimate setting. Only a few crew members were present to make it more intimate and less awkward. Lines, blocking, everything memorized. But why wasn’t it clicking? Usually by now you’d be wrapped and onto the next scene, but this one had already lapsed its scheduling block and pushed everything back by at least an hour. 

The chemistry between you and Joshua was undeniable, at least according to everyone around you. They told you so all the time. Had they been lying to stroke your ego?

“This isn’t working,” Mingyu said to the both of you as he approached the bed. “You’re too stiff.”

“Sorry-” Joshua started to apologize, but was immediately cut off.

“Not you.”

You stared up at the man above you, eyes wide with embarrassment. “Fuck, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, it happens,” he assured you. “Just don’t get so in your head about it. You’re overthinking it when you need to be in the moment.”

You pursed your lips and nodded. He was right, you realized. You had a tendency to overthink things, and Mingyu had picked up on it during the first week of shooting. It’s why he was always pushing method acting on you. 

“That way you don’t have to think twice about it,” he’d reasoned, “because then you are the character.”

You’d mulled over his suggestions, but decided against it. You’d acted your entire life without method, you wouldn’t need it now. Thankfully, Mingyu was a patient director who recognized your natural talent. He didn’t force the method on you and bend you to his will, though you suspected he was tempted to. Instead, he was willing to work with you to get you to open up and push your boundaries without crossing them. 

“Okay, I’ll try.”

“Do you need a break?” Joshua asked softly.

You shook your head no even though you were on the verge of tears. The scene wasn’t working because of you and everyone on set felt like they had to baby you because of it. God, you hoped no one would start a rumor that you were hard to work with. People in the industry talked, and you still had bills to pay. 

“Let’s go back to those first few shots and take it from there,” Mingyu said and clapped to get everyone’s attention. 

“Are you sure you’re good?” Joshua pushed again as he situated himself on top of you for the reset. 

“I’m fine,” you assured him and set your jaw.

You were determined to get it right this take.  No holding back. 

You heard Mingyu call action somewhere in the background and prepared yourself for the feeling of Joshua’s lips on your neck. 

As soon as he pressed a kiss to your jaw you arched up against him and gasped. Joshua fumbled, caught off-guard by your reaction and nearly lost his balance. You kept going though, and let your eyelids flutter shut as if you were in the throes of pleasure. 

“Oh, Eric!” you moaned his character’s name lowly, a whimper at the edge of your voice. “Please don’t stop!”

Joshua continued to rock his hips forward like he was properly fucking you and cursed under his breath, rattling off his line shakily. 

“You like that, baby?”

“God, yes!”

Your head fell back onto the pillow, leaving your collarbone exposed for Joshua to mark up like the script called for. When his teeth sunk into your skin you whined desperately and took that as your cue to pull his hair. As the scene went on, you instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist, pressing his body closer to yours. 

If the studio lights weren’t so hot on your skin, you might have been able to convince your brain that this was actually happening. Your body, on the other hand, was already sold on it. Every time his pelvis connected with yours your pussy clenched hopelessly around nothing. You felt the familiar ache of emptiness start to grow as the cameras continued to roll, making your performance all the more authentic. You hoped Joshua couldn’t feel the pulsing, but you were right up against his abdomen. There were very few layers in between the two of you, which made any sort of arousal hard to hide.

It was then that you realized you weren’t the only one who was trying to hide your state. Even though both of you were donning modesty garments, the hard thing pressing against your inner thigh was unmistakable. No big deal, though. You were a professional. These things happened.... sometimes.

You glanced up at Joshua to see that his eyes were screwed shut in concentration. His jaw was clenched tightly like yours had been at the top of the take and his muscles were tense with anticipation. You took another moment to admire him like that before continuing with your line. 

“Harder,” you begged.

“Fuck, y/n,” he grunted coarsely in response, replacing your character’s name with your own.

Both of you froze in place, staring at each other in shock. Mingyu called cut and Joshua was immediately off of you, apologizing profusely.

“Y/n, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what happened, it just slipped out-”

“It’s okay!” You reached out to comfort him but he flinched away from your touch. 

“I’m so sorry,” he apologized again, “about... the other thing too.”

“Joshua, don’t worry about it. It happens.”

“I am worried about it,” he mumbled. 

You chuckled lightly. “I can tell.”  

His cheeks were burning red and he wouldn’t meet your eyes. You wished there was something you could say to make him feel better, but before you could try the production team was on top of you both to touch up your makeup and adjust the props. 

“That was great guys,” Mingyu exclaimed, clapping Joshua on the back. “There’s a lot we can use from that take, and we can dub over the last part if we need to, no worries.”

You cringed internally as you watched Joshua swallow his pride and nod. 

“Thanks, bud.”

Mingyu turned to you. “Alright, let's do some shots for the oral scene and then come back to this one in a few.”

Anxiety bubbled up in your stomach and your hands began to sweat. They wanted to do the oral scene right now? 

“I thought we were shooting that on Friday,” you blurted out.

“We switched it to today and moved today’s other scenes to Friday, since we’re already here and behind schedule for those,” he explained. “Is that okay?”

You smiled tightly. “Perfect.”

“Atta girl. So Joshua, you can just lay on your stomach with your head in between her legs- I assume you know the drill. And y/n, lie on your back towards the end of the bed there. Do you know your lines?”

“I think so.”

“Good enough. We’ll stop if we need to, but we’re already short on time so we should get started.”

Joshua stood from the bed and stretched his arms over his head, rolling his neck as he walked around to the other side. 

You pressed your legs together nervously, wishing you’d had a chance to freshen up. Your co-star’s head was about to be down there in a matter of seconds and you hadn’t had any time to assess... the situation. You had probably already soaked through your nude thong, that was embarrassing enough, and if there was a smell? You would die on the spot. You took a deep breath and tried not to think about it, reminding yourself that you and Joshua were professionals. There was an unspoken agreement that anything that happens on set stays on set. 

The familiar static of a megaphone crackling to life jolted you out of your thoughts. “Remember, these shots take place right before the main love scene, so nothing needs to change. Keep that same energy from the last take, okay?”

You gave Mingyu a thumbs up and Joshua did the same. The sounds of the crew shuffling around faded into the background as he situated himself on the bed in front of you. He looked up at you and gave you a look as if to ask is this okay? You gave the tiniest nod and braced yourself for his touch. With permission granted, Joshua put a hand on either one of your thighs and waited for his cue. 

He was uncharacteristically quiet. It was usually impossible to get him to shut up in between takes, but you could tell he still felt bad about what had happened a few moments earlier. You smiled softly and put your hand on top of his to try and reassure him. You weren’t sure whether or not it helped, and before you could say something to him Mingyu called action and he was back in character. Funny how the crew always seemed to get their shit together at the worst possible times.

You watched as Joshua leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on either of your thighs before spreading them apart and burying his head between them. The camera panned up to your face to record your lines along with some moans for good measure. Joshua licked rhythmically at your skin where your thigh met your pelvis to simulate the pace of the sex, keeping time for the both of you like you were performing a dance number. 

“Eric, I’m close,” you panted, just barely remembering your line. 

Joshua groaned in response, sending a shiver down your spine. You were trying not to writhe around on the bed too much, but it was proving to be difficult. Joshua’s nose was quite literally pressed up against your clit and every time he moved his head your vision went a little blurry.

Thankfully, the sequence was almost over. You yanked on Joshua’s hair as if to get his attention.

“Eric.”

“Yeah?”

“I want you.”

He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. “Like...?”

“Yes, idiot. I want you to fuck me.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice,” he said and kissed you passionately. 

His nose was wet and you could taste your arousal on his lips. It was time to move to another country and change your identity. 

“Cut! That was perfect guys! Get ready for the next sequence.”

“You’re wet.” Joshua whispered as soon as you broke away from the kiss. It wasn’t a question. 

“I-”

“This whole time I thought it was just me, but it’s not, is it?” 

You shook your head slowly, heat rising to your cheeks. “I’m really so-”

“Don’t be.” He winked. “It happens.”

You smacked his shoulder. “Fuck you, Hong.”

“I’d rather you do it.”

“I can tell,” you quipped back.

“You’re one to talk,” he said with a smirk and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. 

“Whenever you both are ready,” Mingyu yelled impatiently. 

You and Joshua traded sheepish looks and got back into position. You wondered how much of that the mics had picked up. It was probably better not to think about it.

The ache had turned into a dull throb by the time Joshua was back on top of you, and it took everything in you not to grind up against his thigh as he situated it in between your legs. 

“Go ahead,” he said, as if he could read your mind. 

“Go- what?” 

He shrugged as if it were a completely normal thing to offer. “If it, you know, helps make the scene more believable.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“Only if you’re comfortable with it, of course.”

You swallowed hard and nodded, eager to relieve some of the pressure. You barely registered Mingyu shouting action in the distance. You were already too busy discreetly grinding on Joshua underneath the covers.  

“Fuck, baby, you’re soaked,” he said, voice strained. It wasn’t one of his lines but it’d work. 

“All for you, Eric.” Joshua.

The bed creaked as you arched your back and let out a pornographic moan, earning a few more dirty words from your scene partner. You looked up at him and bit back another moan, not wanting to overdo it. He just looked so fucking hot like this. His eyes were a couple shades darker than normal, gleaming with lust, and he was smirking confidently like he’d just won a gold fucking medal.

He leaned down closer to your face so that the mics wouldn’t pick up what he said next. “Can I finger you?”

“I-I want more,” you admitted. “I want you.” Joshua raised an eyebrow. “Please?”

“Should we give 'em a show?” he whispered in your ear. “Go full method?”

“Don’t call it that.”

“Why not? That’s technically what it is.”

“Oh Eric!” you cried towards the camera before turning back to him. “Fine, but don’t tell Mingyu about this.”

“I was planning on posting it to my Instagram story, actually.”

You rolled your eyes. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you were accidentally live-streaming this right now.”

“You think you’re funny, huh?”

“I do.”

“Well I-”

“God, just fuck me already,” you hissed and pulled him into a kiss. 

“Don’t have to tell me twice.”

Joshua was just a co-star to you, at least, in theory. It didn’t matter that you were both single, or that every single scene together felt as natural as breathing, or that your heart did a little somersault whenever he said your name. It was strictly professional, no matter how many times you had to remind yourself of that fact. 

But as he pulled your thong to the side and ran a thumb along the inside of your thigh underneath the sheets, it was easy to think otherwise. 

“Are you sure about this?” Joshua asked as he lined himself up.

“Yes! Fuck, yes!”

“Love the enthusiasm,” he chuckled.

“It’s my line, dumbass.” 

“Right.”

You gasped and gripped his arms tightly as he began to slide into you. He was bigger than you expected, but to be fair you hadn’t known what to expect. You’d gotten as close to naked as possible in front of each other, but never fully naked. And technically you still hadn’t. Even though you were sharing perhaps the most intimate human experience possible, you had no idea what he looked like underneath the blanket on top of you. 

“I’ve got you,” Joshua promised through gritted teeth.

He stilled to allow you to adjust to before going further, hips stuttering involuntarily when your cunt clenched around him. 

“Sorry,” he said.

You felt him tense up above you, clinging on to the last shred of self-control he had. 

“It’s ok,” you whispered back. “You can keep going.” 

You wrapped an arm around his neck and pulled Joshua into a kiss as he bottomed out, using it as an excuse to let out a strangled moan into his mouth so that the mics wouldn’t catch too much of it. Joshua sighed in relief and buried his head in your shoulder, mumbling profanities about how good you felt on his cock. You felt so god damn full with him buried to the hilt inside of you like that- your mouth watered at the thought of spending an afternoon seated on his lap rehearsing lines together while you cockwarmed him. But you were getting ahead of yourself. This could be a one-time thing for all you knew, and you wanted to enjoy it while it lasted.

After a few seconds more like that you tapped his arm as a signal for him to move. He understood immediately and was more than happy to comply. It didn’t take long for him to build up to the pace you’d kept in the previous takes, but by then you were both sweating with the effort it was taking to maintain composure. 

Each stroke somehow felt deeper than before, like he was slowly splitting you in half. He was angled perfectly on top of you so that the head of his cock brushed against your g-spot every time he rammed into you.

“Don’t stop,” you recited in broken whimpers.  

“You like that, baby?”

“God, yes.”

In between your scripted lines Joshua took the opportunity to throw in some of his own. 

“Look at you, fucking yourself on my cock like a slut,” he growled low enough for only you to hear. “Taking it like such a good girl.”

You let your mouth fall open in both shock and pleasure. Joshua Hong was a gentleman. He literally had a reputation for being Hollywood’s golden boy. You had never expected to hear such filthy words coming from his mouth, but they sounded angelic. You weren’t sure if you’d last if he called you a slut again. 

All you could do was lay there and hold him close as he fucked you into oblivion. At first you had tried to rock your hips up to meet his, wanting to contribute to the team effort of course, but his stamina far outmatched yours and you couldn’t keep up. Joshua didn’t seem to mind doing most of the work, though. In fact, making you feel good was what was getting him off. Seeing you blissed out beneath him, sweat gathering along your brow as you bit your lip and held back moans was obviously doing a lot for his ego. 

“Wish you could say my name,” he muttered, “let all of these people know who’s making you forget your lines right now.”

Fuck, your lines.

“Harder, Eric,” you squeaked, hoping that was the one you were supposed to say. 

He suppressed a knowing smile to feed his line back to you. “Fuck, angel, like this?”

“Yes, just like that, just like that- shit!” 

It was a good thing that the scene was scripted as a rough sex scene and not a romantic one, because the way Joshua was railing you right then was far from romantic. 

He grabbed at one of your breasts, rubbing your nipple over the pasty. “Fuck these,” he sighed in frustration, “wish I could actually see your tits. You have great tits.”

Peak romance. 

The scene was blocked in missionary, but you found yourself wondering what he felt like in different positions. Your walls clenched at the thought of Joshua taking you from behind- you didn’t even want to think about what it would feel like to ride him. 

“Can you stop doing that?” he hissed. “We have like five more lines of dialogue to get through before I’m supposed to cum.”

“I can’t help it!”

“Are you close?” 

“What do you think?” you whispered back. 

Instead of responding, Joshua’s fingers found their way to your clit and began to rub circles around it with his thumb. You squeezed your thighs tighter around his waist, trying not to tip over the edge just yet, but you were fighting a losing battle. Your body tensed in anticipation and the burning in the pit of your stomach intensified to the point that you couldn’t stand it anymore. 

“I’m gonna cum,” you warned, skipping about three lines ahead. 

Joshua’s eyes widened in surprise, thrusts faltering for just a second before he snapped out of it and was back in-character. “Cum for me,” he said loudly for the mics to catch, then, “cum for me, y/n,” only for you to hear. 

You cried out as you let go and came hard, trembling and grasping for something to hold while your orgasm rippled through your body. Joshua helped you ride it out and offered you his hand to steady you. You gripped it firmly as the aftershocks washed over you. 

“Joshua,” you moaned quietly, a mix of exhaustion and arousal causing your voice to shake. 

“Fuck,” was all he could manage before giving in to his own orgasm. 

You had always thought Joshua was pretty, but fuck, nothing compared to how he looked as he lost himself inside of you.

The realization of what the two of you had just done dawned on you as you came down from your high and all of the cameras came back into focus. Everyone in the room... had just watched you fuck your co-star. And it was recorded from multiple angles. And it would soon be immortalized in a film released to the entire world. You would have to deal with the implications of that later.

“Fantastic take, you two!” Mingyu shouted at you and Joshua, then turned towards the rest of the crew. “We can wrap for the day after we strike the set. Y/n and Joshua meet me in my office for a quick debrief after you get out of wardrobe.”

Joshua rolled off the bed and shimmied into the boxers he’d thrown on the floor in previous shots as soon as Mingyu walked away. You watched him disappear behind one of the set pieces and figured he had gone on to the meeting without you until he reappeared a few moments later with something in his hand.

“I’m really sorry,” he said and handed you a damp washcloth to clean yourself off with. “I wasn’t planning to cum inside you. I didn’t expect you to say my actual name-”

“I thought that’s what you wanted,” you reminded him smugly. 

“It is! It was, I just-”

“Don’t sweat it, Hong. I’m on the pill.”

“Well, it’s not just that. I still should’ve asked permission.”

You smiled and rolled onto your side, placing the washcloth on the bedside table. “I appreciate that.”

“How are you feeling though,” he asked, “are you okay?”

“Never better, thanks to you.” You gave him a weak thumbs up. “And sorry for finishing before I was supposed to.”

Joshua smirked. “I’ll take it as a compliment.” 

“It only happened because you played dirty!”

“I have no idea what you mean,” he replied with feigned innocence, bringing the thumb that had been on your clit up to his mouth and licking it clean. “And you have no evidence.”

You groaned. “You’re so fucking annoying, you know that?”

“Only because you insist on telling me just how annoying I am every chance you get. But I don’t think you thought I was annoying a couple minutes ago, did you, baby? Or should we rewind the tapes to check and see?”

“I-”

“Come home with me tonight?”

You snapped your head to the side and gave him a look of confusion. 

“You mean...?”

He nodded and leaned in closer to your face so that his lips were almost touching yours. “I want to taste you properly.” You gulped. “And I want to have you all to myself. Without the crowd.”

“Meet me in the parking lot in twenty minutes.”

posting this in celebration of my other ult bias’s birthday <33 hbd bby- anwyay lmk what you think i always appreciate feedback!!

forever tags: @haven-cove @tantofaz123-blog @lee-hjyjn @ateez-star @baesgyus @likexaxdaydream @sunniesoobin @thefairwhitelight @pretty-thoughts @yutayoongi @redamancygnf @hoe4wonwoo @i-might-be-in-love-with-hao @camrenrodrigoswift1

joshua tags: @kyukyuhunnie

add yourself to my taglist here

#the method #joshua hong x reader #joshua hong x female reader #joshua hong smut #joshua smut #hong jisoo smut #seventeen smut #svt smut #seventeen x reader #svt x reader #seventeen x female reader #actor!joshua hong

[myafterlifeisbetterthenyours]

Can I please have have some headcanons for Imp and Stolas With a moth demon S/O who was a plague doctor when they were alive but they died from the Black Plague, they still have the plague doctor uniform, old medical textbooks and an old briefcase full of flowers, herbs and old medical tools and equipment?

Stolas x plague doctor S/O

You had tried your best in the living world.

Witnessing the horrors of the plagues, seeing countless die, only able to save a handful through faith.

You gave it up for the scientific method.

An apothecary you were, using the bounty of nature to help those who were suffering. And living through what people now call the Black Plague, you saw suffering everywhere you went.

Apothecary, it wasn't a rare job at the time.

Using flora to help people just made sense.

And you used those medicines to help those with real illnesses.

But you had rejected faith, choosing medicine and science.

And for that decision, you were maligned by those in power and shunned by most.

And then you died.

And landing in Hell, as sad as it might sound, was probably the best thing that had happened to you.

In Hell there were no regulations or expectations on medicine or the study of medicine.

And with thousands of ailing demons and veritable mass of native flora, you could explore every possible exploit to your hearts content.

For example, you'd just spent the last week studying if the native "Hellweed" had any medicinal uses.

And well... they did make an excellent pain killer. They just had a bad habit of stopping ones heart.

So, there you were. Walking to your study in your full doctor regalia. You'd chosen roses today to full your mask, you'd always had a fondness for them.

Entering your office, you placed your case on the counter, walking out the back of the building, stepping into your large Greenhouse.

Inside you had a wide variety of flora, each one with a specialised for a specific purpose.

You began tending to your plants, meticulously trimming and collecting the parts that were useful to your studies.

As you did such, you heard the telltale sound of your front door opening. This wasnt unusual, being a doctor had many coming to you for help.

Finishing up your work when they started calling out to you, the unknown patient quickly becoming frustrated, demanding to speak to you now!

So entering your office, you came face to face with a rather tall white bird demon.

It was clear by her attire, she was someone of note. Speaking in a thick British accent, speaking in a rather belittling manner, acting as though it were an honour to even be standing in her presence.

You played nice, quickly asking why she was there.

The lady quickly explained, her husband, the Prince, was ill. And had been for several months.

They'd seen every doctor on Pride and nobody has known what ails him. So, she came to you, hoping you could help.

Gathering everything you may need, you quickly followed the Princess.

The ride to there estate was brief, the ride with Stella being a rather chilly one as she seemed uneasy to even be in your presence.

Arriving at the palace, you were quickly whipped away to a bed chamber where you found the Owl laid out in bed, in a utterly dishevelled state.

He was both dusty and sweaty, he looked absolutely exhausted, and given his rather uncomfortable expression, he likely hadn't eaten in many days.

You greeted Stolas, the two of you having a pleasant back and forth before you became all business.

You asked about his symptoms, the owl groggily telling you he couldn't sleep, could barely eat and felt like something was squeezing his lungs.

Thanking him for his cooperation, you quickly consulted your journal. It was a large leather bound book, a deep record of your entire Afterlifes work.

Finding the most likely cause, you began asking him about his garden, the Prince seeming to take pride in his large garden.

From that he told you he had a number of Carnivorous plants, and that's what was causing his strange illness.

He had a fungas in his lungs. A nasty one too. And if you didn't act soon, he'd likely Die.

With this information, Stella demanded you get to work, telling you they'd pat any fee.

After that you quickly got to work. Luckily, Stolas' garden possessed much of what you needed, including the progenitor of the fungas.

You having half the staff occupy it as you took what you needed. And so, with everything you needed, you began the treatment.

The treatment mostly required Steam and a variety of tea.

So, you ended up basically locked In a steam room, the owl needing to breath it in 24/7.

The two of you spent a week in that steam room, you being responsible for supplying him with tea made from the carnivorous Plants roots.

The tea helping his immune system fight the fungas as well keeping his breathing strong and steady.

Meals were brought in regularly by a small chamber, ensuring you could eat while the steam remained constant.

And while at first Stolas barely touched his meals. Over the course of the treatment, he steadily regained his appetite, eating a little more each day.

You found the Prince to be quite pleasant. The two of you bonded over your mutual appreciation for nature and domesticated plant life.

Eventually, you had to remove your mask, something you wouldn't usually do such, your mask filled with a variety of pleasant flowers to purify the body and keep you healthy.

But now maskless, the owl made a variety of comments on your appearance, actually making you blush once or twice.

The two of you became very familiar with one and other, the two of you spending the week getting very close.

You shared many secrets, the Owl revealing many of his insecurities about his marriage and being a worthy father to Octavia.

You, in turn, told him all about yor life during the plague, telling him about learning to be an apothecary and all the struggles you faced from the church and in Hell.

The two of you had a rather warm moment, granted you were basically in a steam room so they were all warm moments but it was rather touching.

Again, mostly because Stolas liked to curl up when going to sleep, often times laying across your lap as you gently stroked his hair.

It was just over a week by the time the treatment was finished, and then came the nasty part.

Inserting a a breathing tube into his nose, the owl began coughing up chunks of the now dead fungas, the tubes providing a steady flow of oxygen even when he was desperately hacking up chunks of dried mush.

It took 17 hours before he coughed up the last or the fungas, finishing with a particularly nasty chunks.

Now with his lungs finally clear, the owl was totally changed.

The Prince felt better then ever, lungs working at full capacity for the first time in months. Needless to say, Stolas was overjoyed, as was his family.

Although there seemed to be a distinct difference between there daughter and Stella's reaction. The princess far less excited then there daughter at his recovery.

Then it came to your payment.

You spent good long minute thinking about it. Being royalty, there was little they couldn't get you.

But youd gotten quite close to Stolas over the last week. So asking for money would feel weird, but you did need something else.

In return for services rendered, you asked for unrestricted access to his garden. Allowing you to harvest what you wanted when you wanted.

And so, true to there word, that's just what they allowed.

You found Stolas' garden to be quite vast, the Prince having a wide variety of flora. He had virtually every native flora youd read of, as such, you had access to any plant you could need, allowing you preform a vast variety of new experimental treatments.

Even after the steam room, the two of you had quite a friendly relationship. The two of you still talking often and seeming to share a strong bond.

You quickly found the two of you spending lots of time together.

It began with you exploring the gardens.

Being Stolas' garden, it only made sense that he accompany you. Showing you around and exchanging knowledge on plant life.

And while you did that regularly enough, you found yourself being called upon, usually for medical purposes.

Some day, Stolas would have a sore throat, or sore joints and then sore eyes. Each time, you checking him for seemingly none existent condition.

This would happen multiple times a month, sometimes a week. The two of you spending a good bit of time together after each meeting.

You quickly caught on, waiting a while, before on one of your check ins, you really played up it up. You made up an incredibly fake and silly disease, telling him the symptoms before having him confirm its existence, telling him confidently, 'As a Goetia, of course he knew what it was.'

Telling him you'd likely have to stay another week week treat it. And suddenly, and rather dramatically, the owl was suffering every symptom you described.

The owl really playing it up.

And thats when you called him out on it.

You explained about the fake disease and how he seemed to blindly agree if it kept you there.

After a few failed cop outs, he confessed.

He admitted that that week in the steam room was one of the best of his life. He had never felt such a connection. Such intimacy with another being. Never even with his wife.

He confessed he wanted to be with you, he wanted to keep you close, to keep that connection with you.

You were a little surprised, naturally, never having expected a demon Prince to try to court you.

Youd be lying if you said you didn't have a deep affection for the Prince. The owl seeming to form a warm little spot in your heart. A rare feat for any demon to achieve.

It took a few moments, you having to really face your true feelings for him. But after some internal reflection, you could honestly say you had a deep affection for him.

So, you told him the truth. You had a deep affection for him in turn.

The owl was overjoyed, getting all poofy as he excitedly pulled you close and thanking you profusely.

"Oh thank you, thank you darling. I promise you won't regret this!" He told you, absolutely radiating a joyful glee.

That was the beginning of a very deep and intimate relationship.

Much of your relationship was spent under the guise of plant care. You often spending great lengths of time together in his garden.

He would also often come to your office for such "Visits~", the two of you having many such meetings, at least when you weren't actually talking about your mutual appreciation of flora.

Your relationship was well hidden and regularly maintained.

And initially you believed it to be secret, until one day Stella came to you. She asked you to provide her with a poisen that could kill a high ranking demon without leaving a trace.

She told you if you did this, she was willing to overlook your current "relations", with her husband.

And so, with little choice, you gave her what she wanted, swearing never to speak of it again.

Afterwards, you made sure to provide Stolas with lots of long acting antidote as well as exposing him to trace amounts of the poisoning to build up an immunity to it.

Something he was initially reluctant to, but you convinced him it was for the best.

And so, you developed a very simple arrangement.

You didn't let Stella see you together. You didn't do it on her bed and you most definetly didn't let anyone else know about your affair.

But now, now that you were essentially free, your relationship grew exponentially. The two of you become very romantic, even more so then before.

If that was possible.

You actually had a surprisingly good relationship with Octavia. Without her parents constant fighting, she was much more hospitable.

And in a surprising twist, the girl seemed to mesh well with her Gothic vibe, the girl finding your attire kinda awsome.

As such, the two of you got along quite nicely. So much so, you actually got to teach her a fair bit about being an apothecary, something she seemed to have a real passion for.

But your relationship with Stolas was a so wonderful, you and Stolas having such a simple yet loving relationship, the two of you loving each other unconditionally.

#helluva boss #headcanon #x reader #helluva boss headcanon #helluva boss x reader #helluva boss stolas #helluva stolas #helluva boss stolas x reader #stolas #stolas x reader

[bay-did-nothing-wrong]

Have you seen that trend where girlfriends walk in naked while their boyfriends are gaming? What about that with the boys and their gf’s?

Lol, I love it, let's see then.

Synopsis: The Turtles' S/O Internet-memes them, and the results are immediate.

Genre: Fluff, crack, implied smut

Word Count: 667

Leonardo

It's 4 AM goddammit! Why hasn't he come to bed yet? That's one of the few nights you could actually sleep over and he was over in the dojo doing katas. You understood he found comfort in his training, in the routine, but you hoped some good ole loving would do too, or so he'd said.

You weren't falling asleep without him, that much was clear, so you just grabbed your phone from the bedside table, and it didn’t take you long to find something interesting.

You're not coming to bed, huh?, you though, we'll see...

-

You could hear the sounds of sharp blades slashing through air, and silent breaths, but that is all. Well, you're gonna have to change that.

As you passed the threshold to the dojo, making your best effort to move as silently as ever, you saw just his shell and those quick, precise methodical movements that he told you to NEVER EVER call choreography ever again. But it did look like dancing...

A smirk worked itself onto your face as you undid the knot of your towel, vaguely aware in the back of your mind, that his brothers or his father could easily walk in at any point.

Pull, and throw.

One of his hands stopped it's previous movement, and caught the towel as it flew his way. You could hear a small sniff sound, and he knew it was you.

"What is it, pet-oh!"as he turned his eyes fell on you, immediately widening.

"Come to bed, Leo." your head fell to the side, exposing your neck - one of his favourite spots - acting all coy and innocent.

Before you could process he'd moved, arms were placed at the back of your knees and at your back and you were being hauled back to the bedroom.

"How can I say no?"

Mission accomplished.

Raphael

That stupid old bag! How many hours can he spend punching this poor ole thing? What is he hoping for, he couldn't possibly grow more massive!? You're gonna have to intervene.

Luckily, Raph was easy to distract if you knew how.

"Hey, Raph?"

"What, Shorty?" he was sweaty, and out of breath, but at full alert. Good.

A towel flew at the back of his head and he had to stop his routine to catch it.

"What the -?"

"You seem sore, wouldn't you like something softer to slap?"

You played him like a fiddle. In no more than a second he'd grabbed you by the thighs and your bare back was pressed against the cool concrete wall.

"You got any ideas?"

Oh, many.

Donatello

There he is staying up all night, on some invention or another, hunched over, laser-focused. His work was difitely important, not just in general, but for his family's survival and life underground. But he worked fast enough that getting a good night's sleep every once in a while would not hurt his schedule in any significant way.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Barefooting the cold concrete floor wasn't a great idea but you're halfway to the lab now, but going back would mean risking being seen, and you were not yet ready to be seen naked by your boyfriends family.

"Hey, Don."

"What is it, comet?"

Towel - yeet.

"Wha-" towel - fall, chair - turn, and get ready to rumble.

"So, I've got a thing I need some help with..." you giggled coyly.

"Wha... Did-d you not bring spare clothes?" oh my god.

"I have clothes, Don." Okay, take two, "I've just found myself a bit lonely."

"I think Leo is still awake you could go talk to him while I finish here."

"Oh, my god, Don! I need my back thrown out, and I'm not going to ask Leo!"

As your arms were up, and your eyes were rolled back into your head the soft fluffy towel encompassed your body once more, and you were lifted in the air.

"In that case, we've got work to do."

Fucking finally!

.

.

tagsgsgs:

@turtle-babe83 @mysticboombox  @aurora-the-kunoichi @remmushound @shadow-ninjas @tmntspidergirl

#tmnt #tmnt 2014 #tmnt 2016 #teenage mutant ninja turtles #teenage mutant ninja turtles 2014 #teenage mutant ninja turtles 2016 #leonard #raphael #donatello #leonardo imagine #raphael imagine #donatello imagine #leonardo reader #raphael reader #donatello reader #leonardo x reader #raphael x reader #donatello x reader #tmnt imagines #tmnt fanfiction #tmnt fanfictoin #tmnt x reader #tmnt reader #fluff #smut #tmnt fluff #tmnt smut #request box

[absurdthirst]

Kinktober 2021: October 15th

Day 15: Gun Play || Collaring || Masturbation

Dave York

It had started out as a one night stand. Fucking in the back of his SUV in the parking lot of a bar because neither one of you could wait until you got back to his place and you weren’t fucking in that disgusting shithole of a bathroom.

One night turned into him seeking you out again, specifically coming to you - to this bar, to find you and drag you back to his place again. For sex that was sweaty and pleasing and exhausted you both by the time you finished with one another.

Then came spending the nights with him. Not going back to your car or your apartment if you followed him over to his place. Sleeping in his bed and waking up to find him hunched over a laptop with a cup of coffee waiting for you.

After the second time, it was obvious that Dave preferred…..a certain way to sex. There were hints of his preferences. Tightly controlled men usually love to be in control in the bedroom as well. It’s a way to feed into their need to control the narrative. So you hadn’t been surprised the first time he asked you if you would let him spank you.

That opened the door to a much different world than you were ever aware existed. You knew about it, but you had never dipped your toe into that particular pool but Dave opened your eyes. You learned it wasn’t about sadism or not really wanting to hurt or humiliate your partner. It wasn’t supposed to be something that you feared and flinched away from when you broke the rules. It was so much different than you had ever realized.

He was methodical, explaining the relationship of a sub and a dom. His job was to pleasure, provide comfort and discipline when needed but there needed to be trust between the two of you. There was never a time where you couldn’t say no to him, nor would he want you to.

Thoroughly going through things that were possible and noting your limits, both soft and hard - after you learned what that meant - to make sure that he never violated your trust. It seems so easy on the surface, what little you had read, but it was so much more involved in that.

The signals for in public when you weren’t acting the way that you wanted. Subtle signs that you were working on his nerves and if you didn’t correct yourself, you would be punished. Depending on how bratty you were feeling would determine if you listened to him or not. All punishments were both pain and pleasure, one of Dave’s specialties and he would administer the aftercare afterwards that makes you feel safe and secure

To the outside world you were a normal couple. You didn’t call him sir in public, just honey like he calls you baby. If there was anything said, it was that Dave seemed to be more relaxed around you. Less of a hardass that the former military member is known for being when he has his hand around your waist.

“Are you ready?” You look up from your makeup table to find Dave staring at you. Dark eyes running over your exposed skin and he arches an eyebrow even if he doesn’t comment. The dress you had chosen for tonight was supposed to be a nice mixture of tasteful and sexy appeal and from the look on his face you wouldn’t be wearing it for long when you get home from this D.C. cocktail party.

“Just finished.” You look at your reflection and smack your lips together. Minimalistic jewelry, just a pair of diamond studs you have in your ears. Dave prefers for your neck to be bare and to be honest, you think his hand is the perfect necklace so you normally don’t wear anything else.

Dave hums, watching you in the mirror shaking his head for a moment and you are disappointed. Quickly checking your appearance to see what you have missed. “You are missing something.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a box.

“Dave.” You start and he lifts a finger, smirking at you while he opens the box and shows you what's inside.

“I designed this for you.” Your breath catches at the necklace. It’s gorgeous, knotted metal and an infinity symbol in the middle of it where it would sit at the hollow of your throat. Your brow furrows when you see the clasp. It’s not a regular clasp or even a lobster clasp, instead there is a small tool.

“It’s your collar.”

You gulp, eyes flickering from him to the necklace and you reach out hesitant to let your fingers run over the precious metal and you can’t help but admire how exquisite it is. Your collar. His words play over in your head again and again. It was obviously meant to be discreet but it was his collar to put on you. You see the tiny initials on the back of the infinity symbol. D.Y.

This is serious. His offer of this gift is not something to be taken lightly. Collaring is very sacred. It’s basically as precious to you as if he had gotten down on one knee and proposed to you with a diamond ring. His devotion to you is etched in this necklace and by your wearing it, it will signify your devotion to him.

The clasp is a locking one. Only Dave would be able to remove it from your neck. It would be something that only you and he will know the significance of unless you tell others and none that you really know are associated in the community.

“Put it on me.” Pride and happiness flashes on his face while he takes the collar out of the box and slips it around your neck. The little tool in his hands to lock it around your neck. His growl makes a shiver run down your spine and he kisses the nape of your neck.

****

His hand stays on the back of your neck, squeezing gently every so often and to the rest of the world it looks like Dave is just being a touch more handsy than he normally is. Instead of literally counting down the minutes that he can make excuses and drag you away from this party. Get you alone and spend the rest of the night making your body ache so sweetly and your cries ring out throughout the room you shared.

“What a lovely necklace.” You smile and reach up to touch the collar, feeling his hand flex around the back of your neck possessively when Barbara comes up and coos over your new jewelry.

“Isn’t it?’ You agree as you turn your eyes up at Dave adoringly. “He spoils me.”

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