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sweeterthanficstion · 2 months ago

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— coast2coast (pt. one) || l.s.k

pairing: life guard!leon kennedy x surfer!fem!reader

tags: surfing au! set in malibu, 1998, i wrote this with re2 leon in mind but re4 leon works too, featuring claire (and chris in later parts!), UNEDITED!! so far only fluff (unheard of...) i'll add as i go!

oh actually, my shitty attempt at knowing anything about surfing despite learning everything through youtube, google and malibu rising by taylor jenkins reid (what started this whole thing). i am NAWT a pro --- so if any of you guys actually know a thing or two abt surfing hit me up!!! i'd love to learn more!

summary: Summer is a fickle thing, sticky-sweet and fleeting, gone before you're ready. You've learnt to love it while it lasts. For you, every summer has been the same—surf, sand, salt-water tides and the hot Malibu breeze. But this summer brings a new sort of challenge, a spotlight your not so sure you're ready for, as well as a boy with golden hair, eyes as blue as the waves, and a way of making your heart rattle between your ribs like it’s desperate to break free.

word count: 2.6k

a/n: AHH HI! i'm so excited to post this one!! it's currently summer here in australia and i've been down at the beach nearly every weekend, so it was only inevitable that my fixation on surfer!leon came back full force. i have this big story all set up in my head, but i was too excited to wait to finish writing it so i'm posting it in parts!! ++ oh also i had no idea corral beach was an actual place in malibu so my version is fictionalised. just. take everything in this fic with a grain of salt i have no idea what im doing lol

i also thought it'd be really fun idea since i'm so busy nowadays, that if you guys are interested at all, you can send in little ideas for blurbs for surfer!leon, and i'd love to write them! i'll figure out ways to fit them into the story, just as little extras, but obviously no promises on writing all of them!! i'll likely just pick the ones i think fit best into the plot. i just think that'd be AWESOME!! <3

playlist⭑masterlist⭑AO3 ⭑ series masterlist⭑next part (coming soon)

California is exactly how you’d left it. Exactly how you remember it. Nothing has changed between the sand beneath your toes and the palm trees lining the scorching hot tar roads, their shadows stretching long and thin like sleepy cats in the afternoon sun. The salt-kissed air wraps around you, sticky and warm, a gentle reminder that time moves slower here. Or maybe it doesn’t move at all.

That’s the thing about California. A time capsule—sun, sand and sky.

June, July, August, Summer melts in your mouth like a sticky popsicle, one into the next, so quick you forget what it tastes like before it’s even passed.

No matter where you are in the world, what waves you're chasing, whether it be in Oceania, the Pacific, the Atlantic, summer melts, fickle and eager.

You’ve learnt to love it while it lasts.

“Another fish and chips!” One of the waitress staff calls from the front—Bunny’s Seafood Diner has been around for as long as you can remember, a weathered little gem perched off the coast of Corral Beach, Malibu. A quick and convenient right turn off the PCH, it’s a lighthouse for road-tripping families and sunburned surfers chasing their next ride.

You flip the fryer around your wrist with a practised flourish, “On it!” You call back, before you dip the metal back in the bubbling oil, the familiar sizzle of golden fries accompanying the bustle of the late afternoon rush. The kitchen smells of salt and grease and the faint tang of fresh-caught fish, a scent so familiar it clings to your skin like a second layer.

Claire breezes past with lazy grace, bumping her hip against yours. “Heading to the surf after?” she asks, her grin as wide as the beach outside, like her mouth was made for holding sweet oranges on hot summer days. She’s balancing a seafood basket in one hand and a plate of fries in the other, weaving through the bustle with the ease of someone who’s done it a thousand times before.

“How’s the forecast looking?” You ask back instead, tossing the crispy fries into a basket lined with deli paper.

“High tide in twenty,” Claire winks over her shoulder at you, side-stepping a counter corner like it’s second nature. “It’s gonna be perfect.”

You can’t deny that does sound perfect. After a shift as long as the one you’ve worked today, a surf might be all you need to feel alive again. You look back up at the foggy old clock on the wall—ten minutes left, five if you can sweet-talk your manager. You end up counting the minutes in your head, that familiar itch to feel the sand under your feet and the sun on your skin insatiable.

By the time the clock hits four, you’re halfway out the door, ready to trade the smell of fried seafood for the briny tang of the ocean instead. Claire is hot on your heels, boards tucked under both your arms as she chases you across the tar road that burns under your bare feet, down the splintering boardwalk, and onto the powdered-sugar sands of Corral Beach.

The sun has already dipped far past it’s zenith, and the world feels washed in gold. Golden rays stretch out across shimmering waters, painting streaks of honey over the horizon, the heat settling into a balmy hum that sticks to your skin in a way you can only love.

You follow the shaded path of sycamore trees until the beach opens up to surfer’s paradise—a long stretch of sand, waves that swell and crash, aching to be carved into by hungry surfers. The path curves past a weathered wooden bulletin board, been there as long as you can remember, and you think it might be older than Bunny’s, if that’s even possible.

“Wait!” Claire stops in her tracks, and you are helpless but to comply. Your eyes stay glued longingly to the beach while Claire’s squint at the array of flyers pinned up—some faded, some fresh. There’s a yoga class, a missing dog poster, and the usual surf report stapled to the corner, its ink smudged from damp fingers. But her eyes zero in on something bright and bold and new.

“Here we go.” She plucks a flyer off the board, turning it toward you like she’s struck gold. The words Corral Beach Annual Surf Comp are printed in big, blocky letters, accompanied by a grainy photo of a surfer carving into a wave.

“Oh, no,” you groan, already shaking your head.

“Oh, yes,” Claire says, a grin spreading across her face.

Claire’s been singing the same song since you were fifteen and cutting through waves better than most kids your age here on Corral Beach. That you should be out there winning trophies and medals and 10k cheques instead of cleaning out the back of the greasy old fryer’s in Bunny’s.

“C’mon, you have to do it!” She bugs on, waving the flyer around like some magic wand.

You laugh, ducking under her arm as she tries to push it into your face. “Claire, come on.”

“I’m serious!” she insists, jogging to catch up with you as you head toward the water. “You’re out here every day. You’ve got the moves, the skill—everything they’re looking for.”

It’s not like you haven’t thought about it. You’ve been surfing since before you could walk. You’d grown up right here on Corral Beach, knew these waves better than yourself. You’d watched your parents chase waves like it was their religion—Bali, Costa Rica, Australia, it was their entire life. Something they loved that was inevitable for you to love too.

“I’m just not the competition type,” you shrug, gaze drifting out to the waves curling in the distance. It’s not that you don’t want to—well, okay, maybe it is. The idea of standing out there, under the scrutiny of judges, crowds, and strangers, feels about as foreign as the first time you stepped onto a board. Surfing, to you, is about as religious as it is to your parents. An outlet, an art form, the ocean calms your restless soul when you need it most. Putting a score to something like that just doesn’t feel right.

“You’re one of the best surfers out here.” Claire presses, she does it so effortlessly. Poking and prodding, always enough but never so much as to push you over the edge. “Half the people in those comps are just there for a shot at a new wetsuit.”

You meet Claire’s gaze, hesitate, the memory of your dad paddling out at dawn or your mom teaching you how to duck dive flickering in your mind. “It’s not about that. My parents taught me how to surf before they taught me how to say mom and dad. They’d enter comps now and then, but it was never about winning. It was about the waves, the adventure.”

“And you don’t think that’s in you too?” Claire asks, raising an eyebrow as she shields her eyes against the sun.

“Maybe it is,” you say finally. “But that’s their story, not mine.”

Claire’s gaze softens for all of a second before she snorts, shoving your shoulder with her own. “You’re so full of it. You’ve got more talent in your pinky than most people out there. Just think about it, okay? It could be fun.”

You do nothing of the sort.

The second your feet are in the water, you forget all about the comp, all about your job and any other worries on your mind. Salt water seems to have that sort of effect on you. Wasting no time, both you and Claire paddle past the surf, straddling your boards in the ocean, watching as the other surfers before you take off one by one with each new wave that rolls in.

It doesn't take long before the first wave in a gorgeous set comes in, Claire’s all but primed for it. She takes off, gets into position, and pops up on her board, carving into it like it’s breathing. You follow suit as the next one comes in, and just like that, you fall into the rhythm of the ocean.

Wave after wave, you don’t stop until the sun is cotton candy pink, purple, gold. Most of the other surfers have dispersed by now, and Claire’s traded shredding the bigger waves for wading through the calm waters with her back pressed against the flat of her board.

You, on the other hand, feel like fate is decidedly on your side. You watch as another set rolls in, the first crashing just out of reach. It peels exactly as you’d hoped, slowly to the right, so when the next one rolls in right after, you paddle with it, catch the feeling of the tide underneath you, and like it's simply second nature, get to your feet.

This is where you feel most alive. There is not a second to spare for the other noise in your head, not about the past nor the future nor anything in between other than right here and now. Nothing but the instinctual insistence of how much longer can you stay on? How much longer can you keep your balance? Lean left, right, forward. Better, longer, more, more, more.

And when you’ve finally completed your balancing act, you dance up to the nose, hovering there on the tip of your board, arms out to steady yourself like sails catching wind, and then you close your eyes and let the crash of the wave topple you off.

It’s only once you’ve resurfaced, board nowhere to be seen, that you realise you didn’t feel the familiar tug of the leash around your ankle. By the time you drag yourself to shore, breath heavy and hair clinging to your face, you see it—the measly cord trailing behind you, frayed and snapped clean.

You huff a sigh, not surprised. It had been old crap for a while now. So had the board, but it carried enough summers in its scars to mean something. A history you weren’t quite ready to part with.

Claire’s already gathering her things by the time you meet her on the sand, shaking out her towel and tossing it into her worn tote bag.

“What happened to your board?” she asks, her tone casual, but her raised brow suggests she’s caught the fraying leash.

You lift your ankle and let the cord dangle, the sad state of it all the explanation she needs.

She winces, offering you a sympathetic smile. “Ouch. Guess it’s finally time for a new one?”

It’s only when you’re halfway up the beach that you spot it again. Your board? Your board!

It’s leaning lazily against the base of a lifeguard tower, looking as though it had simply wandered off and decided to wait for you all this while. Relief blooms in your chest, and you call to Claire that you’ll catch up.

It’s only when you’re closer that you notice him.

He’s standing by the lifeguard tower, a red rescue can slung casually over his shoulder. Blonde hair catches the light, tousled and damp like he’s been in the water himself. His broad shoulders are framed by the white-and-red uniform shirt that looks a little too crisp for someone who spends their day in the sun.

You can tell he’s new. There’s a hesitation in the way he stands, like he’s trying to look comfortable in a place he hasn’t quite claimed yet. But there’s something magnetic about him, the way he surveys the beach with quiet curiosity, like he’s soaking in every detail.

And you don’t mean to stare, but you’re caught in the moment, the way he looks like he belongs there despite it all, carved from the same sun and salt as the beach itself.

You’re still staring when his eyes meet yours.

They’re blue, impossibly so, the kind of blue that reminds you of the water when it’s so clear you can see straight to the bottom, the kind of blue you could fall into and forget how to breathe. His mouth quirks into a smile—easy, natural, like he’s been doing it all his life.

For a heartbeat, the world shifts, tilts ever so slightly, like the two of you are caught in some half-remembered dream. Something stirs in your chest, familiar yet unnameable, like déjà vu soaked in sunlight. You freeze, caught like a fish on a line, just before his eyes crinkle at the corners, and he lifts a hand in a casual wave.

“Hey,” he calls out, his voice carries over the sound of the waves, warm and low, and you think there’s a hint of the coast in it—just not this one.

You blink, salt-sticky and sun-drunk, realizing belatedly that you’re still rooted to the spot. “Hey,” you manage, shifting your weight on your feet.

He doesn’t move, but his attention is all yours now, quiet and steady, as though nothing else on the beach exists, like you’re the most interesting thing he’s ever laid eyes on.

“Nice ride out there,” he says, nodding toward the water, his voice dipped in easy admiration. “That last wave—you made it look easy.”

A laugh bubbles out of you, unplanned but genuine, a flush to your cheeks at the notion of being watched and noticed. You hope he mistakes it for sunburn. “Easy? You sure you weren’t watching someone else?”

“Nope,” he says, the smile widening just a fraction. “Definitely you. The board gave it away.” He says, nodding towards the board that’s still propped against the lifeguard tower like a loyal dog.

“Ah,” you say, realising. “So it was you.”

He shrugs, sweet and boyish in his sincerity. “Figured it deserved better than drifting out to sea.”

You glance down at your battered shortboard, the paint long faded from years of sun and surf. The edges are chipped, and the wax is uneven, but it feels like a part of you. “Thanks,” you say, meaning it. “Guess I owe you one.”

And before you can really think it through, the words escape you all at once. “You surf?”

“Not like that,” he hums, tilting his head toward the waves. Not like you. “Still trying to figure out how to make it look as easy.”

“That’s how it starts,” you say, a grin pulling at your lips despite yourself. “You’ll get there.”

He shrugs, a bit sheepish. “We’ll see. I’m mostly here for this,” he hefts the rescue can with a crooked smile. “Started lifeguard training last week. Figured I’d better get to know the locals.”

“Locals, huh?” You arch a brow, a subtle quirk to your lips. “And I’m one of those?”

“Definitely,” he grins, his voice sure now, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “You’ve got that look.”

“What look?”

“Like this is where you belong.”

The words hang in the air, sweet and sticky like the heat of the day. For a moment, you don’t know what to say.

“Well,” you manage, recovering with a nod toward the tower. “Welcome to Corral Beach. Try not to let it chew you up and spit you out.”

He laughs then, and it’s warm, golden—like sunlight filtering through the trees. “I’ll do my best.”

He steps back, making space for you to collect your board, though his gaze lingers, like he’s reluctant to go but knows he should.

“See you around?” he asks, the question carrying a hopeful edge.

“Maybe,” you say, the word feeling light and easy as you turn toward the parking lot.

You don’t look back, but you feel his eyes linger, and it leaves a quiet sort of thrill in your chest, like the first rush of catching a wave.

likes n reblogs r very much appreciated <3

#spilled ink ₊˚⊹♡#IM SORRY IF THE ENDING FEELS UNFINISHED #AS I SAID I GOT SUPER EXCITED TO POST #updates will be slow as usual so im sorry about that!! that's why im hoping blurbs will be enough to fill the space in between if anybody #is interested of course #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #resident evil fanfiction #leon kennedy fanfic #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy fanfiction #sweeterthanficstion #coast2coast #surfer!leon

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crimsonbubble · 2 years ago

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Hello! Hope you're having a wonderful day/night.

I'm not sure if you're taking requests but...

Just came on here to ask if you could write a Professor!Miguel O'Hara x Student!Reader type au?

Please and thank you for listening! 🤍🙌🏼

cw. nsfw, gn college student!reader, professor!miguel, age gap (reader 20s, miguel 40s), forbidden relationship (?), manhandling, fingering, oral (m receiving), cum eating, praise, degradation, cockwarming, spanking, one use of 'daddy' *not proofread, just pure horny

[IM SOREY I GOT TO THIS SK LATE AAAAAAAA 🥹🥹]

MINORS DNI!!

another day, another class. college seems to be keeping you swamped with essays and assignments, but a certain someone's class made the workload that tad bit easier.

Mr. Miguel O'Hara, your biochemistry professor. you knew you weren't the only one with your eyes on him. he was tall, incredibly handsome, and made paying attention worth it when he'd turn his back to the students. if you asked anyone in your class, you'd all unanimously agree that Mr. O'Hara is undoubtedly attractive. you've imagined things that would haunt you till the day you died.

being bent over his desk or being sat on his desk while his hands curl into your spots. clutching at his broad shoulders as he kissed and bit at your neck, pressing the pads of his fingers insistently into the spot that had you seeing stars. slotting your lips together as you come undone, trying to muffle the sounds from being heard by others. hearing him coo out praises as he made you writhe and shake on his desk.

tears streaming down your cheeks and saliva dripping down your chin as he held your mouth at the base of his cock. letting out a rumbling groan as you choke and gag on him. pulling you off his cock so he can lean down and capture your lips in a sloppy tooth and tongue-filled kiss.

"gotta be quiet, honey. can't have others hearing us." "that's it, just like that. being so fucking good for me." "oh you filthy little slut, look how much of a mess you made."

even with all the eyes that linger on him, he has his eyes on you. you've piqued his interest when you first popped into his class and he almost didn't want to admit that he looked forward to the days when he got to see you.

it was when he had bumped into you at the coffee shop near your college that set your relationship into motion. you had stopped by there during your break between classes, needing a little pick-me-up. Miguel simply needed more caffeine to keep him awake for his next and final class of the day. you two decided to get a table together and chat, and yes, Miguel did insist on paying, meaning he paid before you could even get your wallet out of your bag. he ushered you off to a table with a soft tut and waited for your drinks.

as you bonded over drink blends and classes, your alarm for your next class rang. Miguel sighed and checked his watch, before getting up along with you. he quickly scribbled something on a napkin and gave it to you, giving you a soft smile and winking quickly as he left. you grabbed your stuff and rushed off to your next class. you fishes the crumpled napkin out of your pocket and nearly dropped your drink as you read the note over and over.

even with such a simple note consisting of his number and a small "text me when you're free? ♡" made your heart flutter and a familiar warmth spread across your face.

In the following days, Miguel made an effort to slip in some inconspicuous praise at any given time. when you do good on an assignment, when you ask questions in class, and of course when he has his thick and heavy cock buried between your thighs. he never holds back on praise; you deserve it. but that doesn't mean he doesn't know how to discipline.

he's a college professor, of course, he should know. so he's not partial to having you cockwarm him while he grades assignments and essays. if you've managed to catch him at a bad time, yet still insist on pushing buttons, he won't hesitate to pull you down over his lap. he'll tug your pants down just under your ass and leave it rosy, hot, and stinging. though he immediately follows up with soft caresses as he lifts you into his lap properly, gently soothing your skin as you sniffle lightly.

"you're okay, sweetheart. I'm almost done, then you can have daddy's attention, yeah?"

#bubbly speaks <3 #ash answers #bubbly writes <3 #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara imagines #miguel o'hara imagine #miguel o'hara headcanons #miguel o'hara x reader smut #miguel o'hara x gender neutral reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara x you #spiderverse x you #spiderverse x reader #spiderverse x reader smut #spiderverse x y/n

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buntobeans · 8 months ago

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spilled ice cream is a great wingman - venture x brother’s best friend reader

Nsfw utc. this is FILTHY FILTHY!!!!

Thanx venture’s burrow for this image..

amab sloan

afab reader but is referred to with gender neutral terms (or at least as gender neutral as spanish gets)

you guys are both adults, just to clear up if anything seems uncomfy! i envision Sloan to be around 23 and you’re 21 :))

this is FILTH

like DESCRIBED FILTH!

wrote this on a plane sorry if it’s delulu or uncomfy or grossly described. I think I’m also sick.. also barely edited SORRRYYY also there’s like a severe lack of lube here sad face wahhh wahh ouchie

More italics needed but.. WOMP WOMP!!!!!

i spent way too much time on this

i’ve taken like two classes of Spanish but hoopefully I’ve got it right.. I used the masculine form for some words because I wasn’t sure if I should just make a female reader but— hey anyone can read, regardless of their bits n bobs— let the punana in your heart be your guide <3

OK NOTES OVER!! LOVE YOU E-KITTENS!!!! IM GOING HOMEEEE AND SEEING MY DOG!!!

How the hell did you get here?

Your thighs twitched as you struggled to clamp them shut, but the assured little hushes of Sloan’s voice and their large fingers prying your legs apart strayed you away from doing so.

You opened your mouth and closed it, akin to a fish out of water. Forgetting what you were going to say, your words died on your tongue, shifting into small little whimpers as Sloan rolled their thumb over your swollen clit.

“Doing so good, cariño.” They murmured, tenderly kissing your earlobe. “Mierda. Always dreamed of seein’ you like this.”

“Sloan!” You bounded up to your brother’s best friend as they plopped down the couch of your living room.

“Hey!” They gave you that gorgeous, million dollar grin with their chipped tooth that you’d grown to find so attractive. Sloan instinctually opened their arms for you to leap into, giving you a small affectionate hug. “¿Qué onda? How’s it hangin’?”

“It’s good!” You cheerily piped. Your brother groaned at the sight of you unceremoniously interrupting his time with his best friend, but you ignored it— perhaps you stuck out a tongue at him and gave him a little side eye, but in Sloan’s eyes, you weren’t doing anything wrong! They’d defend you!

Your brother’s best friend. Sloan Cameron. The two had been friends for a while, so it was common for them to come over to your house to chill with your brother. Naturally, you found yourself acquainted with them, popping in to occasionally annoy your brother or include yourself in their conversations. While your brother was most irked by it, Sloan didn’t seem to mind in the slightest, instead treating you like a little sibling, often fondly smiling at you and ruffling your hair.

Oh, how you longed for those eyes to gaze at you with a different kind of affection.

You had the biggest crush on your brother’s best friend. You couldn’t help it— Sloan was so darn attractive with their messy brown hair and skin decorated in the occasional freckle, large frame walking around your house in shirts with the sleeves sloppily cut off, highlighting their muscle, and baggy cargo pants. You soaked up all the attention they’d give you like a sponge, eagerly awaiting them to come over to your house and hang out with your brother so you could brush your fingers with their larger ones while handing them snacks under the guise of showing them hospitality.

But they never seemed to notice. So you kept your pining for sweet Sloan a secret, tucked away in the corners of your heart for your silly little crush to never come to fruition.

“I’m going to the store to get some beer,” your brother announced, grabbing his keys and slipping on his shoes. “Need anything?”

“Hook me up with some ice cream!” Sloan yelled as your brother opened the door.

Your brother left the house and it was eerily quiet, Sloan and you being the only presences in the home. You pulled yourself out of Sloan’s arms, suddenly flustered by the proximity— but, of course, missing their warmth.

“We have ice cream. I bought some recently.” You piped up, hopping off the couch to skitter to the kitchen.

Over your dead body would you admit you’d bought the ice cream with Sloan in mind.

“Ooh, sweet! Haha. Pun intended. What flavor?” Sloan asked, eyeing you as you opened the freezer. They let out a little breath as they watched you bend over to find the sweet treat.

“Vanilla.” You answered, taking out the tub of ice cream, opening it, and sticking a spoon in it. It wasn’t like you’d documented Sloan’s favorite flavor in the archives of your mind… not at all.

You eagerly took the tub and ran over to Sloan on the couch.

“It might be a little bit melted because it sat out but—“

You let out a yelp as you stumbled, the ice cream going flying. Panic set in as you realized you were falling.

“Whoa, whoa! Hey there.” Sloan’s arms wrapped around you.

You swore all the oxygen left your body. Their arms were so big, so warm— you gulped, not daring to meet their eyes in fear of the chipped shit-eating grin they might be wearing on their stupidly gorgeous face.

What you did look at, however, was their shirt.

A mess of ice cream coated their body, and you internally screamed.

Mortified, your heart dropped. “Oh my gosh, I’m so so sorry— I didn’t mean to drop it at all oh no no—“ Hot tears of frustration pooled in your eyes as your lips tugged into a frown.

“Hey, hey!” Their voice cut you out of your rant and meltdown-in-progress. “It’s okay. Everything’s fine. It’s just a little ice cream.”

That was a TOTAL lie. They were practically drenched in vanilla.

You wailed in embarrassment.

“Ay, está bien. Don’t worry! I can just take it off.”

You gulped. You punched yourself in your mind for the lewd thoughts running rampant in your brain, searching for anything to distract yourself with, anything to reply with—

“Y-Yeah?” Fuck. You stuttered. “If you give it to me I can wash it—“

Stupid! Stupid! You were totally feeding into this! Thoughts of Sloan shirtless attacked your mind, and suddenly the room was way hotter than you’d recalled a minute ago.

Sloan chuckled and your soul left your body as you watched them peel their shirt off, showcasing their toned body. They made a show of it, too, confidently lifting their shirt off their body. Holy fuck. Their body was no joke. Accompanied with a bit of chub, they proudly displayed a set of prominent abs. Tattoos of runes, sigils, and ancient gibberish you couldn’t understand (or maybe your head was too clouded to read) were scattered across their body. Their bellybutton had a little piercing and a line of hair trailed down their chest to a place you quickly looked away from before your eyes could meet.

“Like what you see?” They chuckled. You cursed yourself internally. You were practically drooling over them!

“No— I mean yes— I mean—“ You were so close to slamming your head against the wall.

They handed you their shirt and you shakily took it, nervously clutching it like a lifeline to ground you to your surroundings. Thank GOD you were washing it, because you were practically sweating buckets into the fabric from your clammy hands.

“So..? You gonna get off my lap, or..?”

Oh, just kill me already, you thought. Bury me alive and don’t let anybody see my body. Especially my brother. He’d probably laugh his ass off.

You mustered the courage to stare at Sloan. They were so close to you, almost brushing their nose with you and—

Oh.

“There’s something.. poking me..?”

It was Sloan’s turn to be flustered. Heat rose to their cheeks as they gazed down, met with their little “problem”.

“Dios mio,” they gasped. “Don’t pay any attention to that. Lo siento, I am sooo soo sorry—“

You gulped. Was this really happening? No, but— what the hell? Had Sloan really gotten turned on from you sitting in their lap?

Gods. And they were big. Their hardness pressing against you— it wasn’t a joke. You struggled to pick up the pieces of your mind as thoughts flitted about— what would it feel like— what would it be like inside you—

“..Do you need help with that?” You squeaked out before you could even register the words in your mind.

Oh, you’ve really done it now.

Sloan stared at you with wide eyes, cheeks heated.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so fucking sor—“

“You mean that?”

Your hands unconsciously curled further into their shirt. You wanted so desperately for a distraction, to leave this awkward situation, but a tinge of hope and an indescribable pull left you staring helplessly into their eyes.

You nodded. A small nod, but a nod nonetheless.

“…You don’t want this.” Sloan laughed nervously. So you weren’t the only horribly mortified one here. It was almost relieving. Almost. “Do you..?”

Fuck it.

“..I like you. I want this with you. I always have. I mean, I want not just this.. I want you as a whole, I want Sloan Cameron—“ You squeezed your eyes shut as you spoke, too afraid to see their expression. Every moment they didn’t respond to you felt like a century. Your heart dropped with each passing second, wholly terrified of their response.

“..Que lindo..” They softly murmured. Their hand reached under your shirt to gently stroke your hip with their thumb, and you shuddered at the sensation. Their hand was big. And warm. You’d spent too much time staring at it, wondering how it would truly feel against you.

“I’ve always thought you were cute.” They finally said. You opened an eye to peek at them. They were looking away, expression unreadable. “Your excited little smile.. the way you always greet me whenever I come here..” They chuckled anxiously. “Heck, it’d be a lie to say I just come here to hang out with your brother.” They were flustered. You could see it. It was your first time seeing this expression on Sloan, but you prayed to whatever deity that existed that it wouldn’t be the last. You held your breath, hanging onto their every word. “Why do you think I choose your house to hang out with him..? I like.. seeing you.. ah,

demonios, I can’t do this at all..”

Their shirt dropped from your grasp and onto the couch as you stared at them, agape. Were you dreaming?

“So.. are you gonna get off my lap, or are we gonna.. canoodle? Ah, that was stupid of me.. idiot Sloan.. who even says canoodle..” You laughed with a mix of bewilderment and adoration as Sloan spoke, wiggling their eyebrows at you.

Before you knew it, you were kissing them. Kissing them like there was no tomorrow. Savoring their lips. Like this would be the last time you’d ever experience their lips at all. Oh, but you knew it wouldn’t be. You knew you’d have so many more moments like this with them.

Sloan’s hands roamed aimlessly over your body, slipping under your shirt. You let out a soft whimper at the sensation, noting the way goosebumps appeared on Sloan’s skin at the sound and the way they were touching you got more possessive; the way they were touching you got greedier.

“Sloan.” A kiss. “My room is much—“ Another one, this time they missed, landing their lips on the corner of yours. “—Comfier than this—“ You threw your head back like a drowning person gasping for air.

Sloan’s brain was too fuzzy to fully comprehend your words, but they seemed to understand the notion, hoisting you up in their arms by your thighs. You let out a yelp at the sudden sensation of being lifted off the ground. Their discarded shirt covered in ice cream that was probably melted by now (with the help of your ever-growing body heat) was long forgotten on the couch as Sloan mapped a course to your room, their lips never leaving your face.

“Abre la boca.” They ordered. You looked up at them, dazed eyes confused by the sudden Spanish. “Ah.. I mean, open your mouth.” You obediently complied, allowing them to greedily shove their tongue into your mouth. You surely would’ve fallen if it weren’t for their big arms keeping you up.

Their energetic tongue seemed to have a will of its own, messily dancing with yours, rolling over your teeth and mixing their saliva with yours. It was like they were trying to explore every inch of your mouth, charting all the places that had never been reached by anyone else. It was unlike anything you’d ever experienced— if there was one thing you knew for sure tonight, it was that Sloan Cameron’s tongue game was insane.

You only understood you were in your room when the sheets hit your back, Sloan atop of you. Their kissing never ceased; your mouth was starting to cramp, but hell, your mind was full of joyful delirium. You’d kiss them for eternity if you could.

You whined as their chipped tooth caught on your lip, the slight stinging sensation surprisingly pleasant. Sloan apologetically sucked on your lip, leaning back to stare at you.

Your lips were a mess. Drool leaked everywhere, and they weren’t too sure if it was from you or them— maybe both— but they were too aroused to care. You made them feel like a horny teen all over again. You, splayed out on your bed, legs quivering, shirt slightly riding up from the sensation of being practically thrown down by Sloan; you looked like a cute little present, one Sloan was itching to unwrap.

“Can I take this off?” Sloan was too impatient for you to answer the question that they themself had asked, fingers eagerly working to strip you of your clothes. You would’ve laughed at their eagerness if it wasn’t for the burning need you felt for them in the moment, instead opting to gaze up at them dumbly.

Sloan sucked in a breath as they gazed at your shirtless figure. You were even more stunning than they’d imagined. Those nights of rubbing one out to the thoughts of their best friend’s cute sibling faded away as they registered that you were truly real and there, under them.

They wanted to ravish you.

They nearly whined, large fingers palming your bra-clad breasts. With shaky hands, they clumsily took your bra off. It took Sloan longer than it should have, them constantly kissing you like they couldn’t be away from your lips for two seconds and them fumbling with the bra strap and trying to stop themself from ripping it off entirely. But damn, if it wasn’t worth it. You looked absolutely beautiful. Sloan’s eyes roved over your body like a hawk to its prey. You shivered, entertaining the possibility of being swallowed up by them.

Their cock pulsed with need at the sight of your bare chest, aching to be relieved. It was almost painful, but Sloan was determined to make this pleasant for you, even in their lust-clouded haze.

“Mierda. So pretty.. I want you. I need you.” They moved their mouth down to greedily attack your breasts, rolling their tongue around your left nipple. They occupied the other with their hand, alternating between gently scratching the bud, flicking it with their thumb and forefinger, and cupping your breast. You squirmed in their hold and they let out a gentle hum of comfort to try and still your movements, which, admittedly, did nothing but make you wetter than you already were.

“Sloan..” They momentarily stopped their ministrations to soak up that heavenly noise, but quickly resumed when you let out a whine of protest.

“Mm?” They mumbled against your breast, stopping their sucking and tongue-prodding to dot kisses down your stomach. “What is it, cariño?”

You shakily sighed, fingers tangling in their hair as you watched them with glazed eyes.

“‘S not enough, I need more.” You protested softly. Sloan’s eyes softened at the sensation. A hint of their teasing nature sparked up and they thought about making you wait for the reprieve you so desperately desired, but they squashed the whim, deciding instead there was plenty of time for that later. Later, when you two were more prepared.

They pulled away from you and groping your tits and you groaned with disappointment, to which they chuckled softly at.

“C’mere.” They shifted on the bed so they were laying down. “Take your pants off.”

That sounded appealing. You gulped, scooting over to them, and obediently stripped yourself to your panties, to which Sloan let out a low whistle at.

Your panties were so cute. Did you doll yourself up in the hopes they’d see you like this and fuck you silly? Sloan sighed dreamily at the thought.

They pulled you onto their lap with ease, and you prayed that your wetness wasn’t soaking through your underwear and onto them. You bit your lip as Sloan hooked their fingers in your panties, slowly pulling them down. They let out a breathy sigh as they stared at the wetness coating your panties. It was them that you were so drenched for. Them. Sloan Cameron.

Fuck, they were so lucky. You were just the cutest.

“On my face.” They said softly, staring at you with love.

“What?” You sputtered. Sloan tossed your panties aside (as much as they enjoyed them) to who-knows-where in your bedroom, occupying their hands with grabbing your thighs. They marveled at the sensation, squeezing gently.

“On my face.” They repeated. “Sit on it.”

You stared at them incredulously. “You want me to sit on your face? But what if I’m too heavy?”

They chuckled, the sound rippling through your body.

“I think I have more than enough strength to handle you sitting on my face.” They said, a bit cockily. You gulped at their brazenness, casting a gaze to the muscles you’d been ogling over earlier.

The offer did seem tempting…

“But what if you, I don’t know, lose air? What if I suffocate you?”

“Suffocating between your thighs sounds like an honorable death.” They flashed that chipped tooth grin at you that you had grown to adore so much. “Sloan Cameron— died because they were too devoted to eating some pussy.” You snorted at their inability to stay serious even when extremely horny, knowing arguing with them was useless.

You shakily clambered atop them. They licked their lips as your sopping wet cunt entered their vision. You hovered over their face apprehensively, but Sloan wasn’t having any of it— you squeaked as they pulled you down onto their face.

You felt your brain turning to mush as you felt Sloan’s face between your legs. Their nose brushed your clit just perfectly, tingling your spine; it was like their face was made for you to sit on— a.. rather odd way of saying you were meant for each other. You gripped their hair in an attempt to steady yourself, but all hopes of regaining some sense of clarity were dashed as you felt them inhale you.

“You smell so good,” they moaned out. “I wanna taste you, I wanna taste you.. amor, oh, mi amor..”

You let out a keen as they ran their tongue along your folds, lapping up your wetness. They sighed like they were in heaven at its taste; You were everything they imagined and more, so much more.

You squealed as they traced your tongue around your entrance prodded their tongue at it.

“C’mon.” They shakily breathed out. “Move for me. You can do it.”

You gulped, knowing nothing but the feeling of their mouth buried in your cunt. The vestiges of embarrassment faded away as you first grinded on their face, replaced by a wave of overwhelming white-hot pleasure.

It was too quick, how you lost yourself in the sensations of their mouth. You let out soft sobs of ecstasy as Sloan ate you out like a starved human. They made no move to stop you from tugging on their hair as you ground yourself against their face, basking in your enjoyment and rather enjoying the pain.

“Sloan, oh, oh, I’m so clo—“

“I’m home! I brought your dumb ice cream!” Yelled the familiar voice of your brother. You immediately snapped out of your lusty trance, eyes widening to the size of dinner plates. You stared at Sloan like you’d been caught stealing from a cookie jar— they looked back with the same ‘oh shit’ gaze.

Your brother made his presence known in the living room, setting down the spoils from his trip to the grocery store with a loud, annoyed grunt.

“Where are you two?! Why the hell is Sloan’s shirt on the couch..? And is that ice cream??”

Fuck. You’d forgotten the shirt.

Sloan looked up at you. You looked back, face full of embarrassment, looking to them for help.

“Say something!” They urged you.

“What do I even say??”

“I don’t know!” They whisper-yelled, panic palpable.

You groaned in annoyance. It took every inch of your willpower not to squeeze their face from where it was with your thighs, but they’d probably enjoy that.

“Sloan went home!!” You yelled quickly, trying to sound normal— as if you hadn’t just been given the best damn head of your life.

“Without their shirt?” Your brother yelled back.

You looked at them for an answer. They pursed their lips and creased their eyebrows at you to as if to say “I don’t know!”, but all it did was send ripples of ecstasy through your body. You managed to silence a moan at the sensation of their pursed lips on you, and their eyes tinged with a rekindled fire.

“T-Turns out we had ice cream!!” You yelled back. “They spilled it and just went home without it! Th-they said they were tired!”

Your brother groaned in annoyance, mumbling a “That sounds like something Sloan would do”. You sighed in relief, though it was short lived as Sloan’s lips closed around your clit. Your eyes nearly rolled into the back of your head and you had to stifle the loudest whine— with limited success, as it came out like a little grunt. You slapped them from where you were, though it was light, your head too consumed with pleasure to truly do any damage.

“Keep moving,” Sloan murmured against you. You moaned softly at their breath against the sensitive bundle of nerves.

“Are you crazy?” You whimpered.

They raised an eyebrow at you, as if asking you to really answer that question. Yes. Yes, Sloan Cameron was batshit insane. And yes. You loved them. And the idea was turning you on far too much for you to admit.

You slowly continued rolling your hips across their face, gasping quietly at the sensation.

“Yo, are you sick up there?! You sound awful! Like, more than usual!” Your brother yelled. You cursed under your breath. Of all the times your brother had to show a semblance of care (even if it was backhanded), why now?

You gripped Sloan’s hair tighter, trembling with each roll of your hips. Drool fell from your mouth and onto the bed.

“Yeah, I’m fine! I’m- uh- I’m naked-!” You screamed. You cursed softly under your breath. Your tone was far too shaky to even sound believable.

Sloan giggled against your skin. You squealed, kicking what you could of their body lightly with your foot. They let out a quiet “oomph”, which did little to help you, as it blew air against your swollen clit. You threw your head forward, nearly burying your face in the bed. You really dug yourself a hole with anything you did.

“Ew!” Your brother blanched from the living room. “So I bought all this beer for nothing?”

Please leave, please leave, please leave-

“I’m not gonna waste this. And I definitely don’t wanna see you naked! I’m gonna go to a friend’s house and drink this!!” You sighed in extreme relief. “I’ll probably stay over! Don’t burn down the house! And clean up that shirt and fucking ice cream!” Even better. He’d be gone the whole night. You felt almost giddy at the thought.

You halted your movements, which Sloan pouted at, until you heard the door click shut. You almost burst into tears in relief.

“Thank goodne—“ You trailed off into a loud yelp as Sloan flattened their tongue against your clit. Any possible words escaped you, torn from your mind as Sloan endlessly abused the sensitive bud.

Their hands squeezed your thighs, nails gently scratching small marks into it, heightening your pleasure.

“Close— I think ‘m— Sloan— Sloan!!” You shrieked, clenching their hair and tugging. They moaned into you at the feeling, speeding up their movements to help you reach your peak. You assisted, grinding faster against their face, your imminent release the only thing in your mind.

You cried as you felt yourself cum, digging your heels into the sheets. Your whole body seized up in the most intense orgasm you’d ever experienced, and you collapsed on them, exhausted. Your thighs ached, but you couldn’t imagine how Sloan felt.

..actually, you could. They were beaming, licking off the traces off wetness you’d left on their face like it was fine dining. You were thoroughly embarrassed by the picture, but it was so addicting to stare at.

You panted softly, burrowing your face in their neck. You could feel yourself sweating, the heat in your body doing little in terms of leaving.

“Good?”

“Way too good.. What ab’t you?” You murmured into their neck. They blinked, as if the thought hadn’t even crossed their mind.

“What about me?” They looked just like a clueless puppy. You wrapped your arms around their waist, absentmindedly squeezing their stomach.

“This whole thing started ‘cuz you were hard.” You mumbled, gently raking your nails across their body.

They groaned in embarrassment. “Oh, right.. umm.. don’t worry about it.”

You pouted up at them. They cooed internally at the sight; you were just the cutest!

“No. You pleased me.. I should please you back..”

They sighed with a soft little chuckle. “I pleased you, and by pleasing you, I was pleased. Wait, does that even make any sense?” They hummed, thinking.

You still weren’t satisfied, fingers tugging at the band of their pants. Sloan gulped nervously, feeling heat spread through their body again. Their large, clammy hands covered yours, dwarfing them.

“Honestly, cariño, you really don’t have to—“

“But what if I wanna?” You asked softly.

Sloan let out a sigh.

“I can’t argue with that.”

You eagerly slipped their pants down along with their boxers decorated with assortments of puppies on them, admiring their built legs. You traced the trail of hair from the bellybutton piercing on their stomach down to where their pubes peeked out. You mewled softly, taking in the sight of them.

Your eyes trailed down.

“Oh.” You mumbled.

Sloan laughed nervously. Was that a good “Oh” or a bad “Oh”?

You were taken aback. By no means was it not long, but what you were impressed by was.. the girth. Sloan’s cock was thick. You gulped at the size, but were determined not to let yourself be intimidated.

You spat in your hand, slowly wrapping a hand around them. Awed by the way one hand barely fit around their length, you slowly pumped your hand. It was like you were entranced.

Sloan was weak. They were on the verge of crumbling. You looked so adorable, so fucking innocent, staring at their cock oozing precum with fascination, quickly looking up at them with each stroke to gage their reaction. You were so, so, eager to please them, and they felt like they were going to cum embarrassingly quick.

They felt like they were in some porn— except nothing they were feeling was an act— you were really there, with them, their skin was on fire, oh, they loved you so much. Oh, they felt depraved. Your hand on them was bliss. Pure bliss.

When you licked the tip of their cock, they almost came immediately. They cursed and willed themself to hold out a little longer.

You were thoroughly enjoying their reactions; Every shake, every shiver, every keen was addicting to you. You wanted to draw more from Sloan, discover more, feel more. With them.

You gave a vein a little kitten lick and they pulled on your hair. You gasped in surprise, sending more of their length down your throat. You gagged on it, hot tears forming in your eyes, but oh, seeing them keel over was so worth it.

You absentmindedly cupped their balls, giving them a soft squeeze. Sloan grunted. They were so, so close.

“Mierda, mierda.. te quiero, ah..”

You understood the gist of what they were saying, and let out a muffled “wuvvvyoutoo” against their cock, to which they finally threw their head back with a loud groan.

They came. Hard.

You gulped down a bit, pondering the salty taste. You pulled back, the rest coating your mouth. Sloan looked at you.

You were absolutely filthy, their cum coating your face. They reached out a thumb to wipe your mouth, but you licked it off your lips, just like they’d done when they ate you out.

Sloan gulped.

Yeah, you would never be their best friend’s sibling again.

Just you.

You plopped into their lap, too exhausted to say anything. They sighed, absolutely lovesick, caging you in their arms. They peppered your face with much more innocent kisses.

“I love you.” They mumbled softly.

“Mm.” You tiredly leaned into them, finding entertainment in tracing your hands along their tattoos. “..love you too..”

They smiled softly, nuzzling into your neck.

Sloan was whipped.

so like i kinda fell off at the end 😺 but yeah this is FILTH! if you read this far you’re a SINNER!!! A FREAK!!

plsplspls tell me if it’s not as gender neutral as it can b and if I can fix anything with sloan or you !! love you mwah

sighs I need to write sloan putting it in and becoming absolutlyelyl pathetic

#sloan cameron x reader #sloan cameron #overwatch x reader #sloane cameron #venture overwatch #venture x reader #venture x you

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cheolinnie · 7 days ago

Text

Coach-nim

Scoups x fem!reader

TW: age gaps (reader is 20, scoups is 28),

Usage of 'oppa', so if its cringe js replace it w/ smth else

Reader is a little bratty 😮‍💨

We won the game, and by a fucking long shot too; but what's he doing?

Giving everyone but me attention.

I scoffed as i watched him at the bar across the pool, laughing loudly and seemingly having a jolly good time with some of the other coaches. I took most of the winning shots... so why wasn't he praising me?

My gaze left him for a moment, only for it to be met with another, his dark eyes carrying a clear hungry look as he watched me, He seemded older, but it was always a little hard to tell with asain men.

I smiled; well, only one way to find out.

Leaving the group is was sitting with, along with the extremely dull conversation they were having about some boys they were eyeing, I made my way over to the bar. I have a cute bikini top, my bottoms covered up by a thin fabric, with strangers gazing slowly down my body.

"Hi" i smiled, and he did the same. He's cute with a pretty smike, but he didn't really reach Seungcheol in terms of sexiness.

"Can i get you anything?" he offers, and though i may be underage in South Korea, im sure as hell not in South Africa.

"A cosmo would be nice," I say, batting my lashes subtly. He nods slowly, giving my order to the bartender. "Thanks..."

"Kun." he holds out his hand, and me, being the "eager for attention from him" girl I was, took his hand and placed it on my bare thigh.

"Y/n. Nice to meet you oppa."

Kun quirks up a brow, but he doesn't remove his hand. "How old are you?

I was about to lean in, bring my lips towards his ear, nut im stopped by a rather large arm planted infront of my face, his callous hand slapping hard on the bartop.

"Too young for you, so fuck off."

I let out a soft laugh. That's a little rich coming from the 28 year old who absolutely adores fucking me.

Normally in a situation like this, the other guy would go running for the hills. unable to handle Seungcheol's dominating sneer- but it seems Kun was the daring type.

"Seems a little too young fo you too though, no?" he smirks up at him, crossing his legs over the other.

Seungcheol was visibly pissed now; his hand gripped the edge of the bartop, his knuckles hinting a bit of white. He slowly turns to face me. Bending down to my face, placing one hand on my hip as his lips brush my ear.

"I want you in my room, naked and cuffed," I gulp as he slowly moves his face to glare into my eyes. I feel a pinch in my side, making me gasp. "Now princess."

He pulles me up from ym seat with more force than needed, and there;s a quick, sneaky pat on my ass before i hastily leave. I wait until i'm up the stairs and out of sight to take off into a sprint towards seungcheol's room; I've already pissed him off, and although i wanted rough sex, i didn;t wanna deal with a red ass tommorow morning.

Seiping the extra key card he had given me when we got the hotel yesterday, i make haste in ripping my bathing suit off, tossing it somewhere in the room before scrambling for the handcuffs in his suitcase. Digging though his underwear, i fish out the leatcher cuffs, and jump on the bed.

"Hey coach Choi!"

My eyes widen when i hear soemone greet outside, the person unitentionally telling me he was close. Making quick work of the cuffs, i lay flat on the bed, waiting for him.

A beep is head, and the door opens. I take a deep breath, already ecstatic, not to mention completely soaking for him.

"That was fast." I say, and he sticks his tongue into his cheek, something he only did when he was pissed off, He practically rips his shirt off, a couple of the buttons flying somewhere in the room.

"He was nothing but a smart mouth," he scoffs, and begins to unbuckle his belt. the sight makes me instinctively rub my thighs together, already craving for some sort of friction,

Seungcheol smirks as he tosses his belt to the side. "I hope you know you're not getting any prep after that stunt."

I let out a loud gulp. i wont have a red ass tommorow but i sure wont be able to get up form bed till lunch time.

Seungcheol only smirked at my reaction, his body now rid of his clothes as he makes his way closer to the bed and crawling between my legs and looks down at me. "oh princess," he coos softly, running his knuckles along my cheekbone gently.

It was the only softness i was going to get tonight.

He smiles deviously he lowers his head, brushing his lips agaisnt mine. "I'm gonna make u cum so hard its gonna hurt."

Not even letting me take a breath, he plunges into me fully, bottoming out with a grunt and pleased look as what he sees. I let out a loud scream, my eyes rolled back, nails digging into his shoulder blades and my legs wrapped around his waist.

He pushes himself up to sit back in his heels, and sliding out slightly, before grabbing a hold of my thighs and I'm harshy pulled agaisnt his hip. My back arches and he hasnt even started really fucking me yet.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

a/n: lmk if yall want a part 2

a/n: honestly not my greatest work 😔

#seventeen imagines #scoups x reader #choi seungcheol #scoups imagine #seventeen #seventeen x reader

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seeingivy · 1 year ago

Text

it's time to go

actor eren x f!reader

**part of my method acting series

an: im sweating.

songs/media mentioned: happiness by taylor swift and it's time to go by taylor swift (not mentioned but name of the chapter!!)

previous part linked here

You take a deep breath in as you stand at the shining bright doors of the building, the reflective mirrors at the front showing you your small frame in comparison. You brush down the ends of your dress, ridding your palms of the sweat accumulating as you push through the doors.

There’s a receptionist sitting at the front, with short black hair who is diligently typing away on the computer. You can see the issue of Vogue, the one the Attack on Titan cast did for season two, placed in a placard at the top of the desk. And when you look around, you see that every Vogue cover you’ve done - the one of you and Sukuna, for your albums - is displayed everywhere.

Then again. This is a big deal. Surely it’ll be their biggest feature of the year.

“Alright. Your interview should be up the stairs, in room eleven. They’ll start set-up at twenty and then the interview will start at half-past.” she states, handing you a shiny key-card.

“Would you happen to know if my request regarding the piano was approved?”

“I believe so. It should be in the room.” she responds, smiling.

“Thank you!” you respond.

You walk up the stairs and find the room, a few workers shuffling around the set. They all give you polite smiles as you walk straight onto the stage, an expensive brown couch on the left and the grand piano you requested on the right.

You take your backpack off and pull out the box, filled with polaroids all tagged to perfection for your interview, as they all start adjusting the microphones and cameras into place. A shorter, older woman walks up to you, shaking the microphone pack in her hand as she gestures for you to stand up.

“Hi! Thank you so much for helping me out today. I’m Y/N.” you respond, clipping the pack to the back of your dress.

“No problem. I’m Leila.”

You pause.

“I know you. We-we’ve met before, right?”

Her face widens in shock as she nods, a bright smile spreading across her face.

“Yes, that’s right.” she murmurs, voice quiet.

“It was…god. That was years ago, back when we were doing press for season two. We filmed a video for your daughter, she was asleep and she was a really big fan, right? How is she doing?”

“She’s doing good. She’s still a big fan of your music.” she says, smiling as she loops the wires through your ears, shuffling your hair behind your ear as she readjusts.

“That’s sweet. I’m so glad she enjoys it, that-that’s very special to me that she does.” you respond, cheeks warm and something stirring in your chest.

You take her in full, trying hard to wrack your brain for how she used to look. She’s definitely years older now - five to be exact - but you can’t pinpoint any. No wrinkles, no tiredness - still the same woman you knew.

But you’re miles away from who you used to be, having aged what feels like eons. You think back to the interview, the compliments you and Eren gave to each other stinging in your mind.

Eren. I wouldn’t be standing here if it wasn’t for you. Not only because you took a chance on me after our first screen test, but every other hiccup along the way was only something I could swallow because of you. You-your steadfast determination and belief in me is something so inspiring, so warm unlike anything else. You’ve always been a safe place for me, somewhere I can always run to when I need someone. I’m so glad we can always be fish together.

Y/N. You’ve always been able to sense my feelings - my happiness, my frustrations, my pain - without me having to tell you. And you always, always know how to say the right thing to bring me back down to Earth from it all. You make me a better person and I love you for it.

You’re sure you're crying as you look back at Leila, her eyes wide as she reaches forward to wipe the tears. The deep feeling, the sadness sitting so deep in your chest that you’ve been trying to ignore, is suddenly too overwhelming, too loud for you to swallow.

“I’m so sorry. Was it something I said?” she asks, her look frantic.

You take her hand in yours, squeezing three times.

“No. It’s me. I just remembered that interview. What Eren and I had said to each other and it made me a little sad, that’s all.” you respond, wiping your tears against the back of your hand.

Her face deflates.

“I’m very sorry for what happened. To the both of you.”

You sigh.

“Thank you. I-I appreciate that.”

“This industry is not kind. To anyone. And having seen how you two were as kids, how genuine, it’s sad to see what they’ve said to you both. You know that most of it, if any, isn’t your fault. People- they’re cruel. You’re a very brave girl for still coming here.”

You swallow hard. And hope she still thinks you’re brave at the end of your interview.

You sit down on the couch, anxiously tucking the ends of your hair towards the back of your ears, as the interviewer walks in, a bright smile on her face. Leila leaves, giving you a thumbs up as she walks away.

“Y/N. Congratulations. I’m Layla. Thank you for finally coming down for your interview.” she states, taking her seat on the couch next to you as they adjust the microphone in front of her. She has a blue box in her hands, which she tucks behind the couch.

You don’t miss the snub she makes at you for postponing for months on end. You became a triple threat months ago. And your interview - about your career, about your work - was supposed to happen ages ago.

“Thank you for waiting until I was ready. I can promise you-you won’t be disappointed with what I have for you. What’s that?”

“It’s for you. We’re saving it for the end of the interview.” she states, giving you a smile.

You nod, as you brace your knuckles against your own box, the director coming over to give you both directions and stage you properly against the cameras.

“Hello everyone! My name is Layla Ray and I’m here with Y/N L/N. After a great deal of anticipation, Y/N is finally here, seated with Vogue, for the infamous triple threat interview. We’re going to go through the highs and lows of her career and ultimately discuss what comes with such a great title. Y/N, how are you feeling?” she asks, giving you a bright smile.

You swallow hard.

“Thank you, Layla. I’m doing okay. How are you?”

“I’m great, thank you for asking. This interview has been a long time coming. Six months to be exact. Any particular reason why?” she states, adjusting her tone to be quieter, matching your tone. You can tell she’s a skilled interviewer - the excitement from before dying down as she brings the energy lower.

“I-I wanted to be sure of what I wanted to say here. I want to be honest when we talk about my career and that requires self-reflection. I needed the time to do that. And I-I brought things here to share so I had to put those together too.” you state.

“We’ll go back to the start then. What drew you to the industry - acting, singing, dancing?” she asks.

You pull out your first picture, the one you ripped off of your wall. The paint is still stuck to the tape on the back, the picture of you, Falco, and Colt at your popstar themed birthday party. Colt and Falco have excited smiles on their faces, a sparkly pink crown on top of your head and your hands are clenched around the microphone, at the bottom. You can hear Eren’s words ringing in your mind.

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

“This is me at my fourth birthday party. It was a popstar themed birthday party my parents threw for me. I performed a little show for them and my brothers, did karaoke, the whole thing. I-I saw Hange’s speech a few years later when they became a triple threat and it-it basically cemented this as my dream.” you respond, holding up the picture before handing it to Layla.

She’s smiling, running her fingers over the picture.

“This must be a surreal moment. A dream come true.”

You wish.

“Let’s talk about Attack on Titan. How did you find out about it, what was it like being cast, and on a set for the first time?”

“I found out about it through a flier at my coffee shop. I kind of showed up on a whim and did a chemistry read with my co-star. I got the role later that week and was flown out to be with them all. I-I was overwhelmed when I got there at first. I didn’t know much about the set, the terms that you’re supposed to use, they-they had to teach it all to me, like I was a five year old. A fish out of water moment.”

You nervously walk to the other side of the set, where Eren’s sitting in the makeup chair. The team is brushing through the ends of his brown locks, his eyes fixed on his script in front of him, as he murmurs his lines under his breath. You reach forward and snatch the paper out of his hands and tuck it under your arm.

“Good morning to you too, Y/N.” he responds, eyes wide as he smiles at you.

“Sorry. Good morning, Eren.”

He smiles.

“I was joking. Did you need something?”

“I have an embarrassing question. Can you come here?” you murmur, cheeks burning pink.

He quickly hops off the chair, giving a sympathetic nod to the makeup team, as he wraps his arm around your shoulder, his face close to yours as you talk in hushed tones.

“What’s wrong?”

“What’s a hot brick?” you ask.

“Huh?”

“Hange. They-they asked me to bring them a hot brick. And when I said what, they were like…You do know what a hot brick is, right? And I got so embarrassed I kind of ran away and now I don’t know what to do.”

Eren pauses as he registers, which is immediately followed by him smiling and leading you towards the back of the room. He picks up one of the charged batteries of the walkie talkies and places it flat in your palm.

“A hot brick is a fully charged battery.”

“Oh. Right. Th-thanks, Eren.”

He puts his hand on your shoulder.

“It’s only like your sixth day on a set. I didn’t even know this stuff until the end of my first movie. You-you aren’t behind, I promise.”

“Okay. Thanks, I guess.”

“I’ll help you. Before the rest of the cast gets here. Teach you all the terms and the secrets and stuff. You’ll be a natural.”

“Really?”

Eren gives you a nod, the smile on his face drawing your eyes to his dimples.

“Thank you, Eren. Really.”

“It’s no biggie. I’ll help you with anything you want. Just ask, okay?”

“One of our most overwhelming questions that we received was what was it like filming with your cast? Your show - along with Jujutsu Kaisen - were really the first of their types to have such a big child actor presence on them.”

You smile, pulling out your next three pictures. The first - it's a picture of you and Bertholdt, holding a World’s Greatest Dad mug in front of Levi, who has the most annoyed expression on his face. The second is of you and Historia - tying Reiner’s hair into two tiny ponytails. And the third - you and Marco, hugging each other so hard that your cheeks are pressed together.

“It was the time of my life, really. I-I went to sleep every night with a smile on my face. They were genuinely such good friends of mine and this experience, these memories - they’ll always be special to me.”

“Do you have a favorite memory?” she asks.

“Hm. I-we were all kind of immature at that age. I still am. Anything related to dirty jokes, especially when Erwin or Hange were involved is a surefire favorite. Sometimes I’ll remember them and still burst out laughing.”

The teacher stands at the front of the makeshift classroom, the lazy energy enveloping the room. The warm haze of the summer has the ends of your hair sticking to your neck, the cold desk soothing your burning skin - preventing you from listening to whatever the physics teacher is saying about the solar system.

You look to your right to find the same sentiment shared by everyone else too. Eren’s eyes are closed, his chin resting against his desk as the sweat rolls down the side of his face. Connie and Sasha are sharing a cold drink between them and Jean’s nearly turning pink as he fans Mikasa - the only one who looks relatively comfortable right now.

You kick Eren’s leg.

“Hm? What’dya want, sweetheart?” he murmurs.

“Jean is fanning Mika. You could do the same.” you groan.

You feel a light breeze on your neck as you turn your head to see Eren, leaning against his arm as he fans you with the book. You take it from his hand, giving a head shake as you turn to your side, the two of you facing each other on the aisles. You instinctively place your feet on top of his, the two of you looking at each other.

“I was kidding.”

“I know. I don’t mind though. You’re looking a little hot.”

You smile.

“Just a little?”

“Shut up. You know exactly what I think about how you look.” he says, rolling his eyes.

You bite back your smile.

“And that’s why the answer is Uranus.” the teacher says, metal pointer smacking against the board.

You look up at Eren, the two of you so incredulous - from the heat, from being stuck in here for three hours, from how stupid of a word it is - that you both burst out laughing. And then get in trouble together.

“What the hell was so funny that your teacher had to take you out of class?” Levi asks, arms crossed against his chest as he stares the two of you down, hours later. Hange and Erwin are trying to mimic his intimidated stance, but all you and Eren can do is laugh.

“Um. You don’t want to know, Levi.” you respond.

“It’s stupid. We’re sorry.” Eren states.

“No. No, I want to know what was so funny that you laughed so hard you pissed one of your nicest teachers off.”

You and Eren give each other a look.

“It-it’s inappropriate. We’re really sorry, okay? We’ll go and apologize right away.”

You and Eren stand up, linking arms together as you move to walk away. Except Levi’s moved in front of you two, an entirely different look on his face.

“Do I need to have a talk with you two?”

“What?” you ask.

“A talk. About sex.”

You and Eren turn your heads to each other, eyes wide. And you immediately start back tracking.

“Levi. Ew- oh my god. What’s wrong with you? You’re so disgusting. And-and-and a pervert.”

“Y/N. Do we have to have a talk? Are you being safe? Why are you guys making dirty jokes in class that you can’t tell me?” he repeats, eyes burning into yours.

“No! Oh my god Levi! It’s not like that.”

Levi looks back at Hange as you look over at Eren, who's pouting at you.

“What, Eren?”

“You don’t have to act like you’re soooo repulsed by it. That’s not what you sounded like-”

You smack your hand over his mouth, cheeks burning.

“Eren. Shut up. This is not the time or the place to be bringing THAT up.”

He smirks, clearly delighted by how embarrassed you are, before pressing a kiss to your palm where you’re covering his mouth. He turns back to Levi, Hange, and Erwin.

“Levi. We’re sorry. The teacher said Uranus and we thought it was funny.”

“Uranus? What the fuck is so funny about Uranus?” Levi asks.

You bite down on your cheeks to stop yourself from laughing in Levi’s face - his very angry face. Luckily enough for you, you're not the first one to break. And neither is Eren.

It’s Hange. They’re smacking the back of Levi’s back as they ask him to say it again, the four of you - Erwin having joined you - as you all goad Levi on to say it again. And you laugh so hard that by the end of it, you’re on the floor - screaming for them to stop as Eren rubs circles into your back.

Your chest twinges, as she hands the pictures back, and you tuck them back into the box.

“The success after season one of Attack on Titan was pretty tremendous. You guys essentially became house names overnight. How did that feel, especially given your background? Nepotism runs deep and heavy in what we do and you seem to be one of our only outliers, here.”

“It was horrible.”

A shocked look spreads across her face.

“I’m grateful for it all. Don’t get me wrong. But my life changed overnight. I-I went to school and I wasn’t treated as the same person anymore, by people I grew up with. There were people hanging around my school, waiting to take pictures of me, and-and anyone who had a chance of understanding me, they were all miles away. Filming.”

“Did you feel that often? Comparing yourself to your co-stars?”

“Originally, no. I-I was just happy to be there. But people, I mean. They talk. It-it kind of cemented that idea in my mind. I didn’t think it was weird that I was the only one who wasn’t filming until someone pointed it out. And-and someone always pointed these things out.” you respond.

Colt snatches the phone from your hands, an irritated look on his face as he slides it into his pocket. After a six hour phone call with your new publicist and producers - Danny and Sareen - all you could do was aimlessly scroll through social media, their words swimming through your mind as you considered your options.

“Quit reading that shit.” he says, making an effort to storm out of your room. He hangs by the door when he reaches it, his hands pressed against the frame.

You shuffle under the blanket, pulling the soft fabric over your head. And a few seconds later, Colt’s pulling it off, expression a bit softer than before.

“I-I just don’t get why you read it. What’s the point?”

“I dunno.”

He slides onto your bed, putting his cold legs next to yours under the blanket as you complain.

“In my meeting with Danny and Sareen. They-they’re the new producer and the manager that reached out to me. They were saying all this stuff about how I can’t drop the ball anymore. How if I have people paying attention to me now, I-I have to keep it going.”

Colt frowns.

“I-I don’t know how this stuff works. What does that have to do with you reading a bunch of people saying rude stuff about you online?”

“I told them I had time to decide, figure out what I want to do next. They said I should look online and reconsider. That if I want to be a triple threat, I-I should trust them.”

“Do you?”

“Yeah. They-they’re right. And they seem like the type to push me in the right direction, like Levi and Hange. I know they’ll do whatever to help me be the best. They want what I want.”

Colt shrugs. And you know he doesn’t understand.

“Let’s talk about season two. You made history this season - by being nominated for Best Actress in a Lead role among many others, becoming the most nominated actress in Institute history in one night. How did that feel? To-to do that so young?”

“That-that was a win. It came after something really, really intense for me actually. I-I had all these feelings about what it was like to be famous. Building for months. And-and I got them put into words for me right before that happened. It was kind of like going from a really low low to the highest of highs. I-Intense is the word I’d use for it.”

“Could you elaborate? On that?”

You swallow hard.

“Being famous is like living in a fishbowl. There’s-there’s glass in between you, the viewers, and me the person. And it may seem like you can see me, that you and I are the same but the glass is always between us. You enjoy on the other side, smack against the glass, sometimes even put your rods out to wring us out. We-we’re stuck there, that’s all. I realized that and found out I got nominated minutes after. But that’s this job for you. You’re at the bottom one minute and the top the next.”

Her eyes flutter down to your tattoo but she doesn’t make a point to mention it.

“Let’s discuss music now. Following winning Best Actress in a Drama Series, your impressive albums and tours started. You released your debut album, followed by lover girl, and then ribbons. This-this was an insane feat on your part - most artists take four to five years to produce albums at this pace. What motivated you during this time?”

“My manager and my producer are pushing me at every step.”

She smiles.

“That’s some support system.”

“That’s not the word I would use for it.” you respond, voice cutting.

She nods.

“That’s right. Following your last performance, rumors were flying around that you had fired Danny and Sareen, your beloved manager and producer. Is this true?”

“Yes.”

“Why, if I may ask?”

“I just told you. They were pushing me at every step.”

You sigh, looking down at your hands, knotting your fingers together. One of the first things, you could come under fire for, is talking about them, so bluntly the way you are.

“I looked up to them. My previous example from my mentors - Hange and Levi - was perfect. Almost too perfect. Because of them, because of how willing they were to support me, to defend me, I thought everyone was like that. I thought every person who was willing to be on my team was taking into account that I didn’t know much about the industry and pushing me in the right direction.”

“And that wasn’t true for them?”

You take a deep breath.

“I think they used that to their advantage. That I had a blind faith in them. That I wanted to please them, to please other people. I didn’t know that it wasn’t normal to put out three records, to do world tours that fast. I didn’t know that it was insane that I forgot to eat some days, I didn’t know that it was crazy that they were waking me up after two hours of sleep to put me to work. I-I thought that it was all part of the hustle.”

“How do you feel about it now? Having fired them?”

“I-I don’t regret what they’ve done for me. I-I am thankful to them. If anything, I’m more embarrassed of what they did make me do. Why I didn’t think twice on things they asked me to do, songs they convinced me to write.”

She looks intrigued. She knows she’s getting into the good stuff.

“Songs like?”

“London Boy.” you respond.

“That brings us to Ricky James. Are you saying that you didn’t write London Boy?”

“No. No, I wrote it. But I was asked to write it the way I did. Write a love song about him.”

“Because?”

“Press. It’ll get people to talk. People get bored of the same thing over and over again after years.” you respond, repeating Danny and Sareen’s words, about Eren.

You sigh.

“It’s embarrassing to admit that I did that. Pretend just to get people to listen to my music. I-I am ashamed of it.”

“It’s okay. We-we understand.”

“I don’t think you do.” you whisper.

You can feel the tears pricking your eyes.

“I-I regret it. It’s a horrible thing to do. Especially when, when you have real love and you give it up to pretend. And it’s humiliating to pretend, to see people coo over you and a guy you barely even know. But when you’re famous, when people are telling you this is what you have to do, when this is what everyone does, it doesn’t seem like much to give up. I-I could feel the shame crawling in my skin when I look back at it now.”

You swallow down the regret, thick in your throat.

“How so?”

“The night my album premiered, Ribbons. In the past, all my best friends, they-they’d come to listen with me. Throw me a party, press kisses to my cheeks. I turned them all down that year. It’s one thing to pretend to everyone you know. It’s another thing to do it to people who know better. Who know what you’re doing. I didn’t want to pretend in front of their faces. ”

“Speaking of that night. Could you speak on this?”

She sides the picture, the one the paparazzi took of you on the curb before Lana got to you, towards you. You pick it up and look at it - at your eyes pinched shut and your drenched hair.

“It’s simple. Ricky James started liking me. Asked me out. I said no. And then he locked me out in the rain.”

You see the discomfort spread across her face as she slides the picture back.

“I’m very sorry that happened to you. But you came out of it at the top, with your hit featuring Lana Price. Was she part of your support system during that time?”

You smile.

“Yeah.”

“Can’t sleep?”

You look up from the shelves you were currently pawing through to find Lana, rubbing her knuckles into her eyes, as she walks over to where you’re standing.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you. I just wanted water but I couldn't find the glasses.”

She smiles as she wraps her hand around your wrist and leads you to the other side of the kitchen, taking a glass out of the correct cabinet and filling it up for you. You both lean against the counter, illuminated by the fridge of the kitchen light in the dark kitchen.

And suddenly you’re crying again, wet, warm tears falling down the length of your face. At the thought of where you were four nights ago - running in the rain until she picked you up. You aggressively wipe the tears off of your cheeks as she catches on. And Lana, despite this being the second time having met you, is quick to pull you into her arms, the sweet strawberry smell of hers filling your nose.

“You smell like candy.”

“Don’t go biting me now.”

You laugh, pressing against her arms harder as your tears fall onto her shoulder, trying to muffle your sobs by clamping your mouth shut.

“Eren told me. About Colt.”

She pulls back, wiping the tears off your cheek as she talks, softly.

“You’ll get better at doing this. Protecting them. I can almost guarantee it.” she says, giving you a smile.

“How do you know?”

“Because I did it. Which means you can too.” she responds, placing her glass of water in your hands.

“It’s not that simple.”

“Yes, it is. I’ll help you. Eren will help you.” she responds.

“You’re already doing enough for me. Both of you. I’m intruding on your house right now.”

You feel two hands, warm, around your neck, accompanied with a light squeeze. And then Eren, his voice still raspy from sleep, whispering in your ear.

“Y/N.”

“Yeah?” you whisper.

“Say that again and I’ll kill you. What’s mine is yours.” he responds, sliding his hands off of you as he pushes the fridge door closed and opens the light.

Lana groans.

“God. Would it kill you to put a shirt on, ugly?”

“Would it kill you to brush your hair, you hag? Or maybe not wake me up in the middle of the night?”

“That wasn’t even me. Y/N woke up first!”

“It was your croaking that woke me up, Lana. You sound like a toad.” he mutters.

You laugh, which breaks the two of them out of their argument, and has soft smiles spreading across both of their faces.

“You guys are like siblings.”

Lana comes over, hands cupping your face.

“My sweet, sweet Y/N. Please don’t insult me.”

And then Eren’s behind you, arms slithering around your waist, his voice warm in your ear again.

“That’s the meanest thing you’ve ever said to me, princess.”

“Quit flirting, Eren. You’re such a manwhore.” Lana says.

“Princess was her nickname on set, dumbass. Because she’s a pop princess. I’m not flirting.” Eren responds,

“Wow. So you’re too good to flirt with Y/N. You think you’re better than her?”

“What?” Eren asks, leaning off of you.

Catching on to what Lana’s trying to do, you turn around and look at Eren, trying to hide your coy expression.

“Do you really think that, Eren?”

His eyes go wide, hands on your shoulders.

“No! No, oh my god! I don’t think I’m better than you. If anything, you-you’re better than me. I’ll flirt with you all you want. I swear!”

You and Lana stare him down for a few seconds before you burst out laughing, a pink spreading across Eren’s cheek as he grumbles, an irritated look on his face as he shoves past Lana.

“You guys are annoying. I’m going back to bed.”

“Aw, Eren! Come back! Flirt with her!” Lana says, teasing him on.

“Don’t stay down here too, Y/N. You’re going to lose brain cells.” he murmurs, shuffling away.

You turn back to Lana, who's filling your glass with water again. She has a soft smile on her face, eyes warm as she hands you the water.

“This type of stuff…it really helps.” she says.

“This type of stuff?”

“Good people. Who want to take care of you. Make you laugh after you cry, all that cheesy stuff.”

You hum, leaning against the counter again.

“Lean on Eren. Don’t get so jumbled up on what it means and how he’s feeling because he just wants to be there for you.” she says.

“I’m trying to. I guess I just feel bad.”

“I would have benefited a lot from someone like Eren, if I knew him when I was younger. When I was-”

You quirk your head to the side, beckoning for her to elaborate.

“For the longest time, I thought that this is just how guys were. Assholes. Dicks. That it was a matter of finding one who was relatively nice, good enough. That real guys, they’re never like this.”

You frown.

“My dad was an asshole. Ricky was horrible. My brother was the only person who was nice to me but we just- we lived so far and with the jobs and stuff we grew apart. And when I had to deal with things on my own, things I was too young to even understand, I-”

She pauses. Swallowing hard.

“I would have benefitted from knowing Eren earlier. Guys like Eren, like your friends Jean and Marco. Eren’s helped with a lot of my shame and made me better. I-I owe a lot to him really. I know we said what we said earlier, but he is like my brother. He’s always protected me. Overwhelmed me with kindness under insults.”

You smile.

“He’s a good guy. Always has been.” you whisper, heart warm at Eren being Eren, still.

“So let him. Overwhelm you with kindness. Be there for you. You have no reason to be ashamed. And every reason to be scared. Quit feeling bad and just let him. He’s the person you’re comfortable with here.”

You smile, leaning your head against your shoulder.

“Dunno. You’re pretty cool too.”

She laughs.

“Yeah?”

“You know what would be cool. If you guys went to bed.” Eren says, shuffling into the room again.

Lana groans.

“All men have is the audacity. You just ruined a really sweet moment.”

You smile at Eren, which he returns.

“Can Lana sleep with us?”

He stops smiling.

“Huh?”

“You sleep on the left and she can sleep on my right!” you respond.

“Y/N.” he whines.

“Please? It’ll be like a sleepover. I can’t have bad things on my mind before I go to bed if you’re both there.”

“No thanks, sweet girl.” Lana says.

“I’m trying to lean on you guys! Give in.” you respond.

They both groan as they agree, the three of you shuffling towards Eren’s room. You settle straight into the middle of Eren’s bed, as they both shuffle around - loudly talking in Eren’s bathroom.

“Ew, Eren. Why did you just kiss my cheek? I’m not Y/N, idiot.”

“That was for you, Lana Bear!”

“What pervert spirit possessed you at this time of night? And you know how I feel about that nickname after what Hyla said to me at dinner, so shut up.”

“I didn’t mean it like that, Lana. And I just wanted you to know I love you too. You’re like a sister to me.”

You hear Lana smack Eren.

“Were you eavesdropping? Asshole. I was lying. None of it was true.”

“Okay, Lana. Sure thing.”

“I’m serious!”

You shake the memory from your head, as you pull out the picture for her to see, one of you and Lana that Eren took. You’re both on his couch, your hands tangled in the bowl of popcorn - glaring at the camera. Eren was blocking your rewatch of High School Musical.

“Speaking of support systems, one of your most talked about relationships is that with your co-star, Historia Reiss. After seemingly dropping songs about each other and making up and breaking up, there’s a lot of speculation on what happened. Anything to share?”

You smile.

“Historia and I are friends. And friendship is complicated. You just got to witness ours first hand, that’s all. Everything between us - it’s water under the bridge, if there ever even was one. We’re just really similar and we butt heads. We still love each other at the end of the day.” you say.

“Well that’s lovely to hear. How about Ryomen Sukuna? The two of you are all anyone talks about these days, especially after how cozy you two were on the red carpet.”

You snort. And pull out the polaroid - of you and Sukuna, of him kissing your cheek at the awards show. And in the background, Nobara and Maki are pretending to gag.

“We’re not dating. And we won’t ever. We’re just really good friends.”

“Friends kiss each other on red carpets?”

“These ones do!” you respond, smiling.

She laughs, nodding as you tuck the picture back into the box. She swallows hard, rubbing her hands against her palms as she asks her next question. The one you know she’s been itching to ask.

“Look. We’ve talked about your career at great length - all but caught up to the night that you became a triple threat. But there’s one person that we haven’t discussed yet, maybe brought up in passing but haven’t broached. Who I think is relevant.”

You smile.

“Eren.”

“Eren.” she repeats, nodding.

“What do you want to know?”

“I mean, everything. How did it feel to know that you finally got him back for what he did to you, the way he dragged your career through the mud. I mean you basically had him hanging his head between his knees by the end of the night, after you ended him. Throwing his relationship with his brother in his face, the songs you wrote, I mean- that. That has to be liberating. To do all that and come out as a triple threat at the end.”

You can feel the tears spilling down your cheeks as you take your last picture out, one of you and Eren at Levi and Hange’s vow renewal. You’re leaning your head on your palm, looking up at him as he smiles down at you. And you swallow the hiccups as you respond.

“In what world did that night seem liberating to you? Making a joke out of the love I shared with someone? I sobbed my way through the entire last song. Didn’t even make a speech. In what world was that liberating?”

You see the shock spread across her face.

“I just thought-”

You smile.

“Since we were fifteen, all people have done is speculate about me and Eren. Are we dating? Are we in love? Are we real? Are we faking? And therein lies the issue, because I think the people, the fame - it came between something really real.”

She stops, nodding.

“Something real? Are you telling us that Eren Jaeger lied in his interview?”

“I don’t know his truth. Maybe it was fake for him. But I was there too.....And it was real for me.”

You look down at the picture, fiddling with it in your hands.

“I-I’d like to sing my song, if I could. I-I think it’ll help explain how I feel.” you say.

She nods, gesturing to the piano. You sit at the seat, sneaking out the vinyl sleeve from the inside of the bench and pull it out. The album cover is a picture of the cast from season one of Attack on Titan. You and Eren are front and center, smiling at each other instead of the camera, everyone’s heads going in different directions. Jean and Mikasa are looking at something to the left and pointing, Ymir is smiling at Historia who is disgusted at Connie and Sasha plugging their fingers in each other's nose.

“This is my fourth and final studio album, called The Lucky One. And this is my first song on the record, called happiness.”

You brace your hands against the keys, playing the tune into the air as you sing. The feeling sits deep in your chest. Your realization was simple. That Historia’s statement - that your Eren wasn’t the Eren that existed anymore - is true. You just chose to focus on the wrong part of it.

You loved Eren and he made you happy. He burned you down, hurt you in the way that only he knew how, but loved you, made you whole in only the way he could too. There's a deep hurt.

But there was great happiness. It’s why you forgive him. Why you choose to move forward, and hold whatever love you did have close.

Past the blood and bruise Past the curses and cries Beyond the terror in the nightfall Haunted by the look in my eyes That would've loved you for a lifetime Leave it all behind And there is happiness

There is happiness In our history Across our great divide There is a glorious sunrise Dappled with the flickers of light From the dress I wore at midnight Leave it all behind Oh, leave it all behind Leave it all behind And there is happiness

You wipe the tears off of your face as you turn back towards the camera.

“Eren Jaeger is the love of my life. He’s everything you want in the person you want to spend the rest of your life with and more. He’s kind, he’s sensitive, he’s all too willing to understand you. Too willing to meet you where you are, as you are, and look past all the bad parts of you.”

You stifle your sob, the tears pouring out of your eyes. You glance back at the picture of you and Eren at the piano. And the memory sticks out in your head.

“I love you.”

You look over at Eren, his green eyes gentle and heartfelt as he takes your hand and squeezes three times.

“Eren, you-”

“I love you. The three squeezes - that’s what they’ve always meant.” he whispers, his hand warm in yours as me mimics the motion you’ve done a hundred times.

You swallow hard.

“Eren Jaeger is the love in the room. He gives people a chance, even when he shouldn’t. He’s supportive, so incessantly adamant about his belief in you, that you believe in yourself too. He loves hard, he loves soft, and everything in between.”

“He’s the best person I’ve ever met. Until he wasn’t anymore. And I-I don’t know what they did to him. If they pumped him full of drugs, if they told him something about this industry that I’m unaware of, if-if it was something about me. But this Eren Jaeger, so full of love that it was almost spilling out of him, doesn’t exist anymore. He was real. But he’s not like this anymore.”

You swallow hard.

“This career, the way we live in our fishbowl. It-it’s so cruel. You all enjoyed watching me ruin him. You all enjoyed watching him ruin me. You liked that we spent our entire lives loving each other and maybe loved it even more when it came crashing down. It was interesting to speculate on, to talk about. You saw the softest love in us. In him. And then gutted it out of him like he was a fish.”

You take a deep breath.

“And with that, I quit.”

The interviewer sits up, hand on your shoulder at the piano bench as the shock spreads across her face.

“You’re quitting music?”

“I’m quitting all of it. I don’t want anything to do with this. You already got to have him. You don’t get to have me too.”

You give her a smile as you turn to the camera, before walking straight off of the set and into the waiting room outside.

You sit on the bench outside, swinging your legs as you watch the people around you move. They’re all rushing to air the tape, which you expected. And making flash copies of the vinyl you gifted them, getting ready to post them online as the interview goes out.

Figures.

The only person who comes to your side is Leila.

“HI.” you say, cheeks burning from the tears and your eyes swollen.

She hands you the blue box, the one they hid behind the couch at the start, and shakes her head.

You give her a strange look as you open up the box, filled with a large stack of letters. You reach for the one at the top, opening the pages to find Eren’s messy handwriting scribbled on the pages.

Dear The Institute (I don’t know if you’re a person or like someone specific I’m just writing a letter to the address Levi gave me), My name is Eren Jaeger. I’m fifteen, the son of Carla and Grisha Jaeger. I’m going to be in a new show called Attack on TItan. But that’s not why I’m writing to you. I want to tell you about my friend, my best friend. Her name is Y/N L/N. She’s going to be my co-star in the show. You haven’t heard of her yet but I promise you won’t forget her. And I’ll make sure you won’t. Because I’m telling you now, she’s the next big thing. And you’re going to make her a triple threat. I’ll spend this entire time convincing you until you do. But she’s amazing. It won’t take much. You will hear from me again, Eren Jaeger

You pull another page out, opening up the crinkled pages, the block sitting in your throat.

Hi (Can you tell me your name? It feels weird to call you The Institute. Like that’s almost dystopian.) It’s Eren, again. Y/N is going to perform her song, New Year’s Day at the award show tomorrow. It’s her first one and it’s perfect. Like genuinely, who the fuck makes a hit song on the first try? And even after making something great, she’s trying to be better. She doesn’t like to play the piano, but she tries anyway. Every time I try to teach her, she’s hanging on the ends of my words, trying over and over again until she’s satisfied. She works very hard. I’m asking you to not overlook that. See you soon (and when’s your birthday? We’re basically becoming friends at this point.) Eren Jaeger

You flip the pages, again.

Good morning/good afternoon/good evening (covering all my bases, I don’t know where you live), Now, don’t start discrediting what I’m saying as biased because of the rumors. Granted, they are true. I adore Y/N with my entire heart. I love her with every fiber of my being. But that doesn’t discredit any of her work or how I’m vouching for it. Because she truly is amazing. Her new movie is coming out on Saturday and her album on Sunday. Quit being assholes and give her this award already. She deserves it. Really. My deepest apologies (for calling you assholes and for bothering you all these years), Eren Jaeger

And again.

Hi, We broke up. And we don’t really talk much anymore. But the fact that I’m still writing this to you should be proof enough for you to at least CONSIDER her as a triple threat. Like seriously. We aren’t even dating and I’m still raving about her work (because it’s that good). Her new movie comes out soon. She is all things great. The sun, the moon, the stars and everything in between. The light in the dark, every cheesy thing you can think of. Art is a reflection of who you are. And her art has always been the best. For the love of god, give in already, Eren Jaeger.

And the last one, despite being the shortest one, is what hurts the most. Dated for the day after the awards show, what you assume is barely hours after Eren was sobbing during your performance.

Dear The Institute, Thank you for listening. And for making her dream come true. Best, Eren Jaeger

You hold the letters close to your chest as you cry into the box, nearly twenty or thirty pages you still haven’t read. Of Eren, his messy handwriting, and his endless love for you.

His words ring in your mind. They don’t make any sense and none of it does. You didn’t have any faith in me like I did you. Your parents weren’t famous and you had no ins. I have to do something to offset that if you’re my co-star. I’m not lying to you when I’m trying to make you feel better or tell you that you’re great. Maybe Hange and Levi are, but I’m not. I’ve always thought you were great.

You sit up from the bench and walk out the door with the box in your hand. You find Falco and Colt standing on the curb against the car, soft smiles on their faces as they push you into the car. And take you where no one gets to touch you, suck you dry, push you too hard, take what you love most away from you ever again.

Your most haunted memory sticks out to you as you drive away. As you feel the physical weight of this life be left behind on that piano and let him go.

The waves continue to crash, Eren’s hand raking through your fingers as you both look up at the moon, shining above you.

“Y/N.”

“Yes, Eren?”

“Have you ever been skinny dipping?”

You curl your nose in disgust.

“When would I have time to go skinny dipping, Eren? And if I did, you would have known.”

Eren turns on his side, a bright smile on his face.

“Let’s do it.”

“What?”

“Skinny dipping.”

“Eren. Quit being ridiculous.”

He rolls his eyes.

“I just turned twenty-two. Like fifteen minutes ago. I am the pinnacle of seriousness.” he states, putting on his best Erwin-like tone.

“Eren.”

“Come on. It’s like a quintessential experience. We don’t get those - prom, memorizing your crush’s classes and waiting outside them, going on a date in the city. Let’s do this one.”

You nod as you both trudge to the shore, hands locked together as you quickly lose your clothes and run into the water, biting cold against your skin. The Seattle cold does nothing to help, the two of you shivering in each other's arms as you hold each other in the water.

“Ttt-this was a sss-stuppid idea, Er-rren.” you shiver, glaring at him.

“It-it’s ff-un.” he responds.

You groan as he pulls you into his arms, your face flat against his neck as you guys hug in the water. You can feel his heart beating under your ear and you pull back to find him smiling at you, his hair matted against his forehead. You reach forward and push it out of his eyes.

“Thanks.” he whispers.

You nod, giving him a smile. He’s all but grinning at you, the smile on his face so big that it’s throwing you off.

“Eren. What?”

“Nothing. You.”

“Me?”

He nods, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“Just trying to remember this moment. You and me - being real people.”

“You sound like a crazy person.”

“You’re not a pop star. I’m not an actor. You’re Y/N and I’m Eren. We’re skinny dipping. And I love you.”

You turn your head to the side, confused by his sentiment all together.

It makes sense to you now.

Almost a year and a half later and you’re nervously running your sweaty hands against the pleats of your black dress. You half debate walking in, even though you flew all this way. If there’s still a place for you in this townhouse, even though you all but grew up here.

You can hear a loud chatter on the inside, voices talking over each other as you think hard, every regret of yours running through your mind. You wonder if they replaced you already, if your doppelganger is walking around in there.

As always, this is what brings you back to them. All of them. And you hate it. Because as always, they are the only ones who understand. They are the only ones who feel it too.

You’re fish. On the same side of the glass, separated from everyone else.

You supposed that’s what it does to people. That being fish, to some extent, was something everyone related to - not just you and Eren, Mikasa and Jean, everyone else who was famous.

This tears down things that were a resolute fact - bringing you to places you never thought you’d return, to people you didn’t think you would ever need anymore. A fishbowl - separating you from everyone else on one side of the glass, with everyone else - normal and whole - on the outside.

Fame can do that to people. But grief can too.

The news clip rings in your head.

Marco Bodt, best known for his time as a recurring character in the drama series Attack on Titan, died on Friday, five days short of his twenty-fourth birthday.

You brace yourself and knock on the door of the townhouse. Eren’s the one who answers.

next part linked here

an: lol. so does "passed down like folk songs, the love lasts so long" still apply if he's dead....thoughts? also the lucky one tracklist

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 @justanotherkpopstanlo l@mel-star636 @fvckingeetar @ttalgi

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sturniolo04 · 8 months ago

Text

Boys Trip

Bsf!Nick x Bsf!Chris x fwb!Matt x Bsf!Nate x Bsf!Fwb!Fem!Reader

Summary: in which you, the triplets, and Nate take a boy's trip to Boston.

A/N: If you don't like the preadded name in my stories, you can either add your own name or not read it; it's up to you :)

It wasn't abnormal that you and the triplets took trips to Boston to visit their family and friends. The trips only lasting a week, but this trip was different you guys were taking advantage of summer and staying in Boston for almost the whole month of May.

"boys trip boys trip boys trip"

Matt chants as we are standing in the kitchen in their Boston house.

'"oh my god you guys are so loud"

you state as Nick rolls his eyes.

"it's not even a boy's trip Mara is here"

nick states so matter of factly, looking at Matt and Chris.

"she's one of the boys"

Chris chuckles ruffling your hair.

"oh for sure i am"

you reply as you playfully shove Chris' hand away.

we had already been in Boston for a couple days and today we are planning on going to lunch and the aquarium with your best friend, Madison Beer. You were getting ready for the day, when you heard a scream come from upstairs which you followed to pin point who it was.

"NICK"

matt screams, hitting him with his belt several times.

"OW OW OWW"

"ENOUGH"

he exclaims as you laugh at the scene.

"what's so funny?"

matt asks as you shake your head like nothing is funny, as he continues to rant.

"Nick no one was up here; i almost took my dick out because I had to pee"

"WOAH MATT"

"well it's true sorry Mara"

Time skip

you guys finally met up with Madison and went out to lunch and went back to her hotel room since she was only in Boston for a show there for her tour, which we did end up going to.

"can i open you letter"

chris interjects as you all are sitting in the hotel room.

"sure i guess so"

madison giggles as she hands him the letter as he proceeds to open it, all of us staring at him.

"oh you have to read this i cant read cursive"

"there is no way chris"

nate laughs

"here give it to me let me try"

matt exclaims grabbing the letter out of his brother hands and then staring it at a long time.

"okay give to me matt"

you exclaim standing up off of the couch you were sitting on with madison reaching for the letter.

"no Mara i got it dude"

he states laughing extending his arms out of your reach.

it wasnt unknown you were bestfriends with the triplets, madison and nate but everyone but you and matt saw the unique energy you two had around each other specifically. As you and matt continued to playfully bicker about reading the cursive writing madison and nick just looked at each other to see if they are seeing the same thing

"god i feel like im third wheeling"

chris huffs out

"what the fuck chris"

matt exclaims as you and him look at chris confused

'what is that suppose to mean"

you question as he look everyone esle.

"nevermind"

chris chuckles

" lets just get going yeah"

nick finally states as they all head to the aquarium.

Spending the afternoon at the aquarium with everyone was a completely normal day, right? Not quite see every since Chris making that comment in the hotel, everyone starting picking up on your guys energy, meaning you and matt's. If we wanted to say that going to the aquarium was literally a date for you and matt you could literally say that truthfully.

"oh my god look at that matt its so cute"

you exclaim pointing to the fish as he smiles at your actions

"here i got this for you"

matt states handing you the turtle hat putting it on your head

"oh how kind of you"

you giggle. It wasnt until you all left the aquarium that you were walking side by side with madison that she finally wanted to as you for herself. See madison was close with the triplets but she was extremely close with you you guys told each other everything.

"so Mara be honest with me"

she causually states laying one arm around your shoulders as you two walk down the street back to her hotel

"okayy"

you trail off responding looking at you twos-in-sync footsteps on the sidewalk

"whats up with you and matt"

she quickly asks wanting to see you reaction

"what nothing madison why"

you giggle at the question, then proceeding to look at her with a 'realy' expression painted on her face.

"what madison we are just friends"

you states defensively shrugging your shoulders.

"dont bullshit me you like him dont you"

she giggles quietly knowing the triplets are right behind the pair, shaking your shoulders playfully.

"oh my god madison no nooo we are just friends"

you giggle embarrassingly

"okay whatever you say princess"

she states simply not believeing you.

After a couple days pass in may and after the conversation with Madison, you and the triplets decide to go over to nates house and end up taking a nature walk on the trail behind his house, which brings you to now. Chris was rambling on about some story he remember that happened to him when he was younger.

"and i recorded it-"

chris trails off in his story

"what why would you record that chris"

you question

"no god Mara i obvisouly didnt record my penis"

chris defends himself

"dont say that so loud"

nick exclaims

"PENISS"

matt screams out as you giggle along with nate. You guys kept on hanging out on the trail behind nates house until it got late and eventually went back to nate's house to play some random game they wanted to play

"okay if it closes on your finger you have to take a shot of lemon juice"

chris explains to everyone sitting at the table

"im not doing that"

you huff out in response to the dumb idea

"boo youre no fun"

nate complains

"come on mara if im doing it you have too please"

nick begs shaking nudging your shoulder.

"no"

you state coldly.

"at least just one round"

matt says trying to persuade you. you sigh out which is a way matt knows he convinced you as you sat back down in your chair.

"it shouldnt hurt should it"

you nervously ask

"mara it is a kids game it shouldnt"

chris chuckles out setting up the game for the first round. You guys start playing the game and there were have ten teeth left to press on the game piece and it was now you turn to choose out of the ten. You deeply inhale and exhale selecting a tooth for the toy to immediately come toppling down and crushing your pointer finger, leaving a burning and pinching sensation to your finger.

"OW THAT FUCKING HURT"

you exclaim actually in pain standing up causing my matt to flinch beside you from your sudden reaction as you tried to not let the tears welling up in your eyes come to the surface.

"no it didnt you big baby"

chris states causually.

"Im not playing this stupid game anymore"

you state walking away to go upstairs. Matt sensing your pain follows you up. Which the boys thought was an abnormal reaction considering Matt and Mara are "just friends".

It was now the last day you and the triplets were spending with Nate before you and the triplets had to head back to LA and you guys decided to go out for lunch and then watch a movie at his house later that evening.

"dude no its not like that we are just friends"

matt exclaims to his brothers as he rolls his eyes

"seriously matt i know and i know mara you two like each other"

nick states so matter factly as he crosses his arms over his chest.

"dude you gusy are so fucking annoying we are not into each other like that jesus fuck"

matt exlcaims again finding a seat on one of the benches outside of the diner you guys were eating lunch at.

"so you are telling us you dont like mara at all matt"

chris states so over his brother oblivion.

"i uh- she is just- okay fine maybe I do like her i mean its not like i haven't known her my whole fucking life and I literally spend every second of the day with her to the point were she drives me mentally insane."

he huffs out not realizing you and nate finally came out to where they were

"what are you talking about stupid"

you question taking a seat on the bench next to matt ruffling his hair. As chris and nick share a look.

"uh nothing stupid- are you guys ready to go"

matt responds standing up walking to the van

"whats up with him"

you ask his brothers as chris just shrugs following his brother and nate to the car.

"nick"

you trail off looking up at him

"he's just you know matt it has nothing to do with you he is probably just in a mood."

he quickly rambles out grabbing your hand to pull you up off of the bench.

You guys made it back to nate's house and you all were currently sitting down watching a random movie and matt ever since this afternoon at lunch has been giving you the cold shoulder. You continuedly tried to ignore it but you just could shake the feeling of being offended and genuinely hurt that matt was giving you the cold shoulder.

You kept wondering if you did something wrong or said something wrong. Like what could you have possibly have done to upset him this much and more importantly why does it hurt so much that he is ignoring me, don't get me wrong I love his company but I also love that he has literally become my safe space. You and matt had been through so much together and that's when it occurred to you that you might actually like your best friend.

"hey are you not watching the movie anymore"

Nate exclaims and questions you as you stood up and walked over to matt standing in between his legs as he shifts his gaze upwards to you.

"can i talk to you.. now"

you question him as he simply nods his head as you remove yourself from in between his legs leading the way out in front yard.

"whats up with you matt why are you not talking to me now"

you question as he doesnt respond

"matt"

you sigh out tearing up because of all the feelings you get inside are now bubbling up over the surface.

"what did i do"

"mara nothing nothing just- you did nothing i promise"

he huffs out stepping closer to you placing his hands on your shoulders

"then what is it"

you softly ask. gazing into his eyes scanning his face for an immediate answer.

"i just im so in love with you mara it hurts i-"

he trails off as your hear flutters with pure joy at hearing your bestfriends feelings are mutual.

"i just didnt know if you felt the same"

he sighs out

" do you mara"

he question looking into your brown orbs as inching his finger tips into the scalp of your hair on either side of you face

"yes matt i do"

you giggle out as you shift your hands to grip his wrists as he link your guys lips together, matt shifting his hands to your ass picking you up and twirling you around.

"its about damn time"

nick exclaims as nate and chris agree with him as they all three are spying on the pair through the window.

Taglist

@mintsturniolo @adirtylittleheart @wh0resstuff @spicymuffins03 @aaliyahsturn

#sturniolo imagine #sturniolo triplets x reader #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo fanfic #chris x reader #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nathan doe #madison beer

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lovelyjj · 1 month ago

Text

Relax

jj maybank x reader

you can read the request here

Your relationship with JJ was new and exciting. You have only gotten together just recently. You were still getting to know each other. JJ was good to you. You’ve had sex with each other once and you were craving to do it again.

The château was quiet. John B went fishing and so JJ was left alone in the house. You came by in the afternoon wanting to see your favorite person. JJ was in his room watching TV. You knocked on the door and entered the room.

“Hey baby, missed you,” JJ got up to hug you.

“Missed you too J,” you smiled.

JJ kissed you with an urgency. It was hungry and messy. You kissed him back with passion and he stuck his tongue in your mouth. It made you dizzy. “Wait J slow down,” you breathed over his lips.

“I’m sorry baby, Im just crazy about you.” JJ panted.

“You make me so hard.” JJ pressed his clothed erection to you and you gasped. You felt his hard length against your stomach.

“Need some relief my love?” You teased.

JJ let out a whimper and you swear you died and gone to heaven. JJ sat against the headboard on the bed and you sat next to him.

“Can I?” you gestured to his sweatpants and he nodded.

You look his hard cock out and it was leaking. It was red and engorged. You spit on your hand and started stroking it. JJ let out a groan at the contact. You started jerking him off with both hands.

JJ was seeing stars. He couldn’t believe his girlfriend was so good to him. You twisted your hands around his length. You applied some pressure. You gave JJ a handjob. He was just about to cum when you stopped and he let out a whimper.

“Want you inside me now,” you whispered. You quickly undressed.

Since you and JJ only had sex one other time you were nervous. You were tight and tense and all wound up. You were laying on your back and JJ was hovering over you. He lined his cock at your entrance and tried to push in.

“I need you to relax baby,” JJ urged you.

“This isn’t gonna work if you don’t relax,” JJ explained.

“I know i’m sorry I’m trying,” you took a deep breath.

JJ tried to push in again and this time you opened up a little. He entered you painfully slow so you let out a whimper.

“Shhh just a little bit more,” JJ cooed.

“You’re so big J,” you whined.

“Shh I know baby, taking me so well.”

JJ pulled out and then entered you again and again. His cock filled you up deliciously. You could feel your walls stretching as you took his dick. “Fuck Y/N,” JJ panted.

The sensation had your eyes rolling back in your head. JJ pounded into you. It felt really good. He had you seeing stars. Both of you were enjoying it. You’ve never felt this connection with anybody else before.

JJ was a passionate lover. He made sure you were comfortable and okay. He made love to you in a way that made you feel alive. He was your everything. JJ’s thrusts got sloppy and your walls started to squeeze him like a vice.

“Let go f’me baby,” JJ cooed.

Your orgasm washed over you and you came undone. JJ followed quickly after. By the end of it both of you were breathing hard. JJ cleaned you up and then pulled you into his chest.

“Couldn’t imagine life without you, I love you so much,” JJ gushed.

“I love you too,” you whispered.

“I think i’m addicted to you,” JJ spoke huskily in your ear.

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despairots · 2 years ago

Note

could you do a story where miles from earth-42 and our miles are twins and we cant decide which one we like better as we like both of them? you can write the story however you want to!

━━━━━━━━ if i were you, i’d do me.

earth1610! miles morales x gn! hacker! reader x earth42! miles morales. fluff and if you like squint really really hard you’ll find angst. 18 and above please dni, unless your my moot or something… i forgot to change my requests to open but u can send me requests (only abt atsv) just like be patient cuz im daydreaming and shit 🙏

pls ignore the title its nothing suggestive i was braindead and was listening to my saved audios on tiktok this was thw first one on my saved so el oh el 🤕 i gotta keep my writing grind up. keep in mind that earth 1610 miles will keep beinf spiderman and earth 42 will keep being prowler. if y dont know sliver wolf from hsr, switch her up cuz reader is heavily based off of her

this’ll be left on a cliffhanger cuz like idk i just dont wanna make another part and sometimes things are better off with cliffhangers since you guys have creative minds you can come up with your own scenarios

where in a dimension, earth42 and earth1610 miles morales are twins, may look the same but have completely different hairstyles and different personalities also another weird, interesting fact, you’re a sucker for twins, especially them.

interesting fact about you, specifically you, is that you almost got caught by the government when hacking into their system to steal some information.

and of course, them having connections to spiderman, told him to go after this hacker who causes a lot of trouble for the government.

miles morales obviously being under that mask and friends with this hacker who knew that you hated authority (yes, you’re an anarchist), didn’t bother doing anything, probably just telling you to stop messing with them.

on the other hand, his twin bother, myles morales, encourages this behaviour. polar opposites but two cuties, and you, who got roped into romance with them.

“[name], what’d i say about hacking the government?” miles scolded you as you chewed on bubblegum with your feet propped onto your desk, holographic screens in front of you.

“i don’t know, me forgot.” you nonchalantly shrugged, spinning your chair to go back to your screens and swiping left to play the weeknd.

miles spinning you back and placing his arms on your arm rests, too close to your liking.

you smirked with a light scoff, “your brother likes it.” miles rolls his eyes at the mention of him, “i don’t care what he likes.” he snapped back, obviously lying.

miles leaned back with a sigh, “god, what am i gonna do with you?” “maybe get off my ass.” you muttered, not knowing if miles heard that, to which he did.

“i’m sorry, what?”

you jumped at that, quickly shooting your arms up and trying to find excuses, opening your mouth like a fish.

your voice’s overlapped eachother, unable to hear his twin brother opening the door to your room, mask off and everything.

he looked at you who kept stumbling on words.

miles spider sense went off and looked at the entrance, seeing the one guy who encourages your behaviour, “what - what did you tell them?” myles smirked and shrugged.

“i didn’t say anything, bro.” he placed his claws on your bed and sat down on it, “i am not your bro.” miles chuckled and sat down on your bean bag.

“um actually-“

“shut up.”

“cope.” you playfully stuck your tongue out at miles who smiled and rolled his eyes, god you loved his smile. i mean, what?

you don’t love them, boo, you hate them.

“dude, tell [name] that if i don’t catch the ‘hacker’ i’m gonna get my ass kicked.” miles and his brother made eye contact, “i hope you do.” myles replied with a playful tone.

miles threw his hands up, “you guys are actually evil.” you laughed at his comment, “we’re actually vigilantes.” myles pointed out, patting his brother’s shoulder (the bean bag literally beside your bed).

you smiled at the two with light pigment on your cheeks, “i really wanna kiss you guys—“ you paused your sentence with embarrassment, realizing you were saying your thoughts out loud.

the two paused and looked at you, blinking, “eso es adorable, amor—“ “get out.”

“¿qué dijiste, amor?”

“i hate you guys. kill yourselves. espero que te resbales y te caigas en tu próxima misión.” you rolled your eyes and buried your face into your hands as the two twins looked at eachother.

“you don’t mean that, amor.” you groaned at the nickname the two labelled you. it made you want to giggle, twirl your hair and kick your feet like a schoolgirl.

you blushed when you felt an arm sneak around your neck, hugging you against your chair with their head beside your ear, “te gustamos los dos, ¿verdad, amor?”

god, you couldn’t choose between the two.

[name] when they keep getting teased and literally cannot deal with it.

#kaz. 💫#earth 1610 miles morales #earth 42 miles morales x reader #earth 1610 miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles morales #earth 42 #earth 1610 #earth 1610 miles #earth 42 miles #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman into the spiderverse #miles morales x reader #42 miles #42 miles morales #1610 miles #1610 miles morales

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norman-fucking-reedus · 11 months ago

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So… Scud riding fem!reader’s strap-on?

YES YES YES YES YES FUCKING YES

UGHH When I tell y’all Scud fucking LOVES to ride. It puts so much power into his little hands he doesn’t even know what to do with himself

FOR THE FIRST TIME IN FOREVER IM GONNA ACTUALLY WRITE THIS OUT BC yall dont even understand the way this consumes my brain. Bottom Scud is for life I’m sorry hes my baby and my baby deserves to be fucked

“Fuck I almost forgot what the apartment looks like!” Scud sighed heavily as the door creaked out, kicking off his shoes and stretching as he walked over to the couch, dropping himself down onto it. You shut the door behind yourself and toe off your own shoes, leaving them in a messy pile right next to Scud’s.

You peeled off your coat and hung it up, keys following suit before you padded into the tiny kitchen “Do we have any food?” You groan as you open the door, fridge mostly empty and stuffed with mainly leftovers.

“We can get some takeout, fuck, I’d kill for a burger right now” Scud spoke as he moved onto the floor, banging on the shitty TV to boot it up and plugging in his PS2 controllers. “We don’t have enough money” You frown slightly, walking into the living room and plopping down on the couch, legs on either side of Scud’s head. He almost purred contently when your fingers began scratching his scalp.

Scud easily turned into putty at the faintest touches, slumping against you as you massaged his head. “Mmh, can we smoke a bowl?” He muttered, and you’d be crazy to deny.

“I think we only have a little left” You said as you leaned over the arm of the couch, grabbing a grinder and Scud’s bong. You tapped whatever remains were left in the gringer into the small glass bowl, reaching down to fish out the small bag you bought to better preserve the bud. “When’s Blade paying us again?”

Scud shrugged, fingers tapping and flying against his controls as he played some fighting game, leaning himself comfortably against your leg as he spoke. “Hopefully soon. I should asked for a raise” You stick a few sticky nubs into the grinder, twisting it around a couple times until it was finely grinded up into keef.

“Like he’d ever give you one” You snort, snatching a lighter and half dranken waterbottle off the coffee table. You pour the rest of the water into the bottom of the bong, sticking the long bowl inside and holding it steady by the long neck, gapping your lips through the whole at the top, flicking the lighter and bringing the flame down onto the small bowl on the side, inhaling until the water started to bubble and smoke started to form, swirling up and filling the long bong, your lungs shortly after.

It was a huge hit, the smoke turning a slight yellow color as it was built up and burning your chest where you held it in for a few seconds, exhaling a cloud of smoke. “Hey no fair!” Scud snapped his head around and pouted at you, because he wanted you to shot gun that right down his throat.

“I’ll give you the next one” You comb fingers through his hair as he whines softly. You bring the flame back down to the bowl, inhaling and watching the yellow-ish smoke form inside and climb up into the neck, down into your lungs.

You held it in for a few seconds as you tilted Scud’s head back, pressing your slightly agape lips against his and exhaling your hit into his mouth, smirking softly at his tiny moan as he inhaled.

Scud sighed around his exhale, staring up at you from his upside down position. “What?” You mumbled, cupping his face with a small smile. “That make you happy?”

He nodded, leaning up to kiss you before turning his attention down to the bong in his lap, not wanting to knock it over. You handed him the lighter, and glanced over at the clock.

“We should just order a pizza” You murmured, rising to your feet and stepping around Scud who was mid-rip. He followed you with his eyes, taking a massive hit and coughing out, exhaling a huge cloud that fogged up your small living room more. “I thought we didn’t have money?” He croaked out, beating on his chest a little.

As he said that, you rummaged through your purse, fishing out your wallet and opening it, raising a brow. “I’ve got ten bucks”

Scud pats his pockets, digging through them and pulling out a few crumbled ones. Better than nothing. You took the bills out his hand and grabbed the landline, plopping back down on the couch as you clicked through the numbers, eventually landing on the local pizzeria.

Stoned, showered, and stuffed, you watched with half lidded eyes as Scud needily bounces on your strap, loud moans and whines coming from him.

“Feels so fucking good, mommy feels so fucking good, want her to fuck me so hard” Scud babbled, sobbing as he totally fucked himself stupid, fingers curling into the cushion of the couch. You watched, rocking your hips steady against the small vibe pressed to your clit, throbbing from all Scud’s sweet little sounds. “You don’t need my help pretty boy, you’ve got it” You coo, sliding your hands across his hips, running them up his shirt and wrapping them around his throat, squeezing tightly. He wheezed out a gasp, clenching around you and whimpering the best he could in your grip.

You pulled him down for a hot and sloppy kiss, Scud breathlessly panting into your mouth as his back arched, rolling his hips down and up against you. He was a complete mess, choking on his moans and grunts as he started to ride your dildo harder and faster, rocking his hips back and whining desperately. “Good boy. Ride me like the dirty little whore you are, hear how disgustingly wet you are for me baby?”

“Y-yes, love b-being so wet for mmngh!–mommy, always s-so ready for her” Scud gasped out his words, your grip around his throat still so blissfully tight that he was starting to become lighthead, shifting himself a little before grinding back down, a loud and choked off whimper tearing from him. “There! Please, please fuck me there- need mommy to fuck right there” Scud desperately cried, bouncing on the spot with all the strength in his body. You gripped his hips and thrust up into him, Scud heaving a groan as he caught his breath. You ruthlessly pounding into him from underneath, watching Scud’s pretty face twist and turn in pure pleasure.

His fingers tightly gripped the couch cushions, toes curled and his head rolling side to side, so utterly destroyed. “Ohh fuuck” He bit down on his spit-soaked bottom lip, loud moans and whimpers escaping past anyway. Each hard jab of your cock was sending him flying off the edge, his own cock twitching and oozing a mix of cum and pre-cum, the tip turning a cherry red as it start to swell up, painfully hard.

“Gonna cum aren’t you, Scud? Or do you need mommy’s help with that too?” You ghosted your hand near his cock.

Scud trembled like a leaf in your lap, “Can’t do it by myself– I can’t–“ sobbing as he pushed back against your thrusts, the head of your strap bumping the bundle of nerves inside him. “Need mommy to help, need her so bad” He rambled, continuing to rock back against you. His face was soaked with tears, sweat, and drool as he was almost riding you again, loud drawn out moans tearing from his chest as each snap of your hips took him further and further. “You poor little thing, begging for help cause you can’t get yourself off on my cock?”

You started to slow your hips, rocking into him at a quick but lazy pace. Scud whimpered and desperately pushed back against you, chasing the blissful build of his orgasm. “Hnnghh– I need- I can’t- Ughhh fuuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck” Scud was so entirely gone, so very far gone. It felt like there were a million bees buzzing against his body, tossing his head back with a loud, broken and shaky sob of sheer pleasure, only a few more hard bounces before his jaw went totally slack, eyes rolling into the back of his skull as his untouched cock spasmed and twitched lewdly as he came, warm shots of white painting his shirt and landing on yours.

Scud slumped down against you, dropping his head onto your shoulder breathlessly and overfucked. He twitched slightly, and whined when you slipped yourself out, leaving his hole to feel uncomfortably empty.

You combed fingers through his hair, kissing his sweaty face and holding his limp body flush against yourself. “Wanna go to bed?” You whisper, kissing his cheek and letting your lips linger there. Scud nodded, but groaned when he realized that meant he had to get up. “Comfy” He mumbled, snaking his arms around you and squeezing, burying his face in your chest.

"We need to change, babyboy" You kiss the top of his head, feeling his sticky cum starting to seep through the fabric of your shirt. Scud whined, arms tightening.

You sighed, tired, high, and a little hungry again. Scud was starting to feel really heavy in your lap, pressing his whole weight down onto you. The clock in the kitchen ticked, and an idea crossed your mind, grunting as you pushed yourself up onto your feet suddenly, Scud flailing and scrambling to wrap his legs around you, eyes wide at the change in position. "Bed" Was all you said, hoisting him up and carrying him into your single shared bedroom.

When you went to drop your boyfriend down onto the bed, trying to get him a clean shirt, he tugged you down with him, rolling you onto your back and straddling you once again, staring down with a flushed and needy face. "Wanna go again, wanna ride mommy again" He huffed, grinding back against your strap. His skin burned, and the fabric of his shirt was uncomfortably sticking to his skin, leading him to pry it off, tossing it somewhere in the room.

You did the same, nothing wrong with sleeping naked, and moved a hand down to steady your dildo, holding it so that Scud could lower himself down, drawn out moan leaving his lips. Being so full of cock made him happy, especially when he could feel the hot drag of silicone against his walls.

Scud lifted himself up and almost immediately dropped back down, a shaky groan coming from his chest as he wasted no time eagerly bouncing his hips against you, whole body on display. You ran your fingers across his bare legs, up his jutting hips, and across his tattered belly, tickling his scars under your soft touch which made him giggle. He wasn't really one to feel insecure. Your fingers danced across his sensitive nipples, a tiny whimper in response.

“Such a spoiled little brat, aren’t you?” You coo as you watch Scud’s nude frame grind against yours, his cock bouncing and smacking against his abdomen. Scud whined and nodded, rolling his hips. It was true that he was very spoiled as saying no to him was genuinely the hardest task of your life. You could deny him, but never flat out refuse. In the end, Scud always got what he wanted, and right now, he really wanted to cum again, leaning down to needily kiss you.

You took the chance the place your feet on the bed, thrusting upwards into Scud who moaned into your mouth, gasping against you as you pounded into him. “Feels so good, mommy makes me feel so good” He slurred out breathlessly, moving to bury his face in your soft tits. He whimpered as you nailed his sweet spot, his cock rubbing against where it was sandwiched between your bodies.

Scud simply moaned and clung to you, dragging his tongue over one of your nipples and sucking it. Each rough snap of your hips lurched him forward, his hums vibrating your tit and his cock leaking all over your stomach.

He groaned and squirmed ontop of you, his hands squeezing the squishy flesh of your chest, pressing his face into their warmth. “Gonna cum, feels so good ‘m gonna cum” Scud babbled, his words muffled. You pressed his front closer to yours, making him rut his tender cock against you which each hard thrust. It was all that Scud needed to totally fall apart, whimpering out sobs as ropes of cum spurted from him, landing on both your stomachs.

You dropped your hips and completely pulled out of Scud, running fingers through his hair when he whined at the loss. “You made a mess of us both, Scud”

“M’sorry, just felt really good” He mumbled, head now pillowed on your chest, one of his hands mindlessly fondling a soft breast. “Can we take a bath?”

You smile softly, even though you had both just showered an hour ago. “Only if we make it bubble one”

｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★

#scud frohmeyer #scud fanfiction #scud #scud x reader #scud blade 2 #hes my babygirl #norman fucking reedus #normanreedus #norman reedus #the walking dead #daryl dixon #the walking dead daryl #daryl fanfiction #daryl dixion imagine #twd daryl #twd

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