Tumgik
#but im down to only one can of fish left...
lunar-fey · 8 days
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eating only 3 chocolate chip cookies a day for a week is good and healthy actually ^-^ <- coping with not being able to afford food
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brainrotdotorg · 9 months
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imagine a dashboard for alligators. what do you think that would look like
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🍏gatoridae Follow
Controversial opinion. If you're doing nothing but eating meat, what are you even doing. Remember to include bugs, fruits, and legumes into your diet in order to help aid digestion of the meat that you get from snakes, fish, and mammals.
Just because we have the reputation for eating lots of meat, that doesn't mean we have to stick to it.
🥒biting-you-biting-you Follow
counterpoint: fuit yucky
🪵blog-from-a-bog Follow
wdym reputation of eating meat. i float lik ea log thats what im known for
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🌿swamp-ass Follow
asked dad if i could go and steal some Floridian guy's lunch and he said "we have prey at home" girl we have been doing shit ALL DAY i am an awesome 600 pounds and I need some meat left on me to deathroll with. let me get a quick snack that i don't need to kill mmmmmmm burgers I want people food soooooo badddd....... i know they shouldn't feed it to me but I have such a lovely smile oh please oh please give me your burger.........
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🥗aliali-seeyoulater Follow
mom says it was cold the season she laid me so i have to be a girl. because girls are always born from eggs laid during cold seasons.
cope and seethe mother first of all, second of all, the reason i am transgender is because you kept me too fucking snuggly warm in the nest.
#i guess if you wanted a daughter you should have. idk. made a shittier nest? #thats not really my fault man
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⛰fuckyeahhugesnout Follow
You'll never guess how I just learned that we have the honor of being the "loudest reptiles in the world"
🫑teethem Follow
Yeah yeah, the 90 decibel mating bellow, we've all heard it.
🤢ch0mper Follow
we've all heard the what
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🩲gaytorrr Follow
this guy asked if i wanted to see his gator hole and i said fuck yes. why this boy take me into a 65 foot long hole in the mud at the bottom of the lake
6,421 notes
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🏞daily-clawsitivity
✨Remember to take it easy sometimes!✨We thrive in slow-moving waters!✨Even though we can run fast, we get tired fast too-- it's okay to let yourself take breaks!✨Let yourself relax, that's how we made it this far as a species.
mud-rocks-deactivated20140706
Yeah, imagine telling your prehistoric great great great great great great great great great great grandpa or something to calm down and relax when he should be doing nothing but deathrolls. the longevity of the species should be your only goal. It's irresponsible to encourage your fucking species to fall behind even more than it already has? Have some pride, you're not a crocodile.
scalesssss-deactivated20150310
jesus christ calm down
alidile-crocogator-deactvated20140709
Okay, this post has a lot of misconceptions in it. There aren't as many differences between crocodiles and alligators than you think. It's really harmful to think that we have nothing in common with each other. So what if they're carnivores and we're closer to omnivores, or their snouts are more U shaped while ours are V shaped. We're both badass miracles of nature that have no reason to be pit against one another all the time.
Don't listen to guys like this. It's just hateful and small-minded.
stop-jawlock-androll-deactivated20140911
crocs are like. like them shoes that float right
wetlandia898 Follow
i wish i was a crocodile because i could have a virgin birth and i wanted to see what it would be like to eat an immaculate conception.
bigchallengesrealblog-deactivated20190412
welcome to the no notes gator/croc discourse post.
🦖l8rg8tr-z Follow
omg this is the post.... i can't believe i would see this naturally on my dash
🎍taildraggers Follow
Uh are we just going to ignore the virgin birth reply orrrrrrrrr
🐊gator-heritage-posts
gator heritage post
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aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa Follow
hgwiow h
hsfhjs
howw ws i nbevyrboy tyopingssaog oo vd wi hhrth rh thrre cl alawas ?>>
🌴a-l-g-t-r Follow
lmao this idiot never learned how to use their tail to type
#/j lol yeah its kind of hard at first #actually i'd say cut your losses and forget how to type bring the laptop back to the dumpster its not worth it
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🐍bellowbellowmygoodfellow Follow
am i fucking stupid. i just learned theres another species of alligator other than just me and the guys in my swamp. and i said "oh wow I didn't know that! which one of the two are we haha" and my buddy just stared at me like I was a fucking idiot. how am i supposed to know if no one ever tells me this . WHICH AM I
🍖meet-eat3r Follow
there are only 70-80 mature chinese gators in existence while there are 750,00-1 million mature american gators . do the math.
🐍bellowbellowmygoodfellow Follow
i could have just hatched you don't know me.
20,570 notes
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🍀gatortears Follow
a group of queer gators in church call that a congregaytion
#reblogging this one bc none of you appreciate me
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👞makemeintoshoesdaddy Follow
I'm seeing the no notes gator/croc post circulate again and ha ha yes it's very funny, but we are NOT starting gator/croc discourse in 2024. lets leave that shit in the past. i know that's not what the post really ended up being about but i am soooooo sick of it.
🌾clawstothewalls Follow
okay, so the one with a fetish for getting turned into handbags is gonna talk down to us now.
👞 makemeintoshoesdaddy Follow
Not to be a pedant but its Shoes Actually. It even says so in the name. Shoes.
2,663 notes
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2tarbell · 1 month
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does twee have a job??? i know you mentioned her being pogue turned kook, im wondering if she’s kept a job she had as a pogue 🤭….
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TWEE!READER who is a cart girl! she started the job right before her father came into money and wanted to keep it. mainly because she misses the pogue lifestyle and working makes her feel less guilty about now living in a nice house.
she receives a lot of tips because the players think she’s the cutest thing! rambunctious and teasing, having inside jokes with all the members. in her little cart girl uniform, tight polo and pleated skirt. her striped socks and maryjane’s. hair always done up in some cute style. she’s a natural born people pleaser and can happily stay afloat in the midst of these golf playing men. but only because she doesn’t entertain their foul intentions, too naive to assume anything bad.
but she actually met rafe after her shift ended, parking the cart back in its ‘home’ and gathering her things. he’s just leaving when he passes her by, having been in the carolina sun all day golfing with his boys. they’ve since left and he found himself lingering just a bit more, hoping to catch that cute cart girl he saw at the ninth hole.
he’s handsome, that’s the first thing she notices. and her mind races, hoping to maybe see him on her shift tomorrow. the daydreaming causes her to trip. thankfully, she caught herself before eating shit, not without attracting the attention of the cameron boy, though. his hands shooting out to her shoulders and steadying her.
“you good?”
she smiles sheepishly, smoothing down her hair. twee nods and looks down at her shoes, frowning at the scuff on the leather of her new shoes. goddamnit. when she looks up at him again, eyes squinting in the setting sun, rafe feels his own smile twitching at the corner of his lips.
“sorry— was just… thinking…” she trails off slightly.
rafe actually huffs out a laugh, and she becomes more embarrassed than before. her grimace makes his grin soften.
“don’t worry ‘bout it, yeah? s’all good.”
her little grin is adorable and rafe trails his eyes down her body when she turns to retrieve something from her cart. miles of smooth skin disappearing underneath that short skirt, he can just barely see the lace edge of her panties, until her dainty hand reaches back and pulls the skirt down a little.
“glad you caught me then—“
his eyes snap up back to hers when she turns around with what he assumes is her purse, smirking and crossing his arms. her playfulness isn’t lost on rafe and he finds himself reciprocating, flirting.
“oh, so it’s a habit of yours to trip into eligible bachelors?”
she giggles and rafe knows he’s in.
he sets his jaw, noticing her looking up at him through those dark lashes. she leans back against the cart and crosses one ankle over the other. rafe’s eyes are drawn to the movement and trail slowly up her legs. when he meets her eyes again, she has a knowing smile on her cute face.
“bet you, uh, get a lotta these dudes in trouble, huh?”
the way she cocks her head to the side, an innocent gleam in her eyes, makes his shorts feel just that much tighter. her voice is soft and unsure when she replies, “whaddaya mean?”
rafe shrugs, smiling lazily and scratching his ear. “pretty thing like you workin’ here… dunno, ‘m sure it makes it hard to focus on golf…”
her huff paired with an eye roll makes his chest swell. he can see the smile she’s biting back and chuckles, fishing his phone out of his pocket.
“y’know i— i gotta see you somewhere other than here, if you wanna…” he mumbles lowly, holding the device out.
“y’gonna get me fired, rafe…” she teases.
his name has never sounded so good. rafe places his other hand hand over his heart, grinning at the giggle she lets out at his dramatic gesture.
“i promise, kid, swear on m’life. just one date?”
he’s putting on the works, he knows; charming smirk and narrowing eyes. but, twee is just a girl, in every sense of the word. so when she walks off after giving him her number, hundred dollar tip the handsome boy said was ‘all f’you’ tucked into her bra strap and a promise to text him her work schedule, she can’t hide the smile growing on her face.
rafe can’t hide his either, shaking his head and stuffing his phone back in the pocket of his golf shorts. walking out to his truck, he can’t think of anything else but the apple hairclip she was wearing and that little grin that made his heart stutter.
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hughjackmansbicep · 8 days
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Idk if you’re taking requests now but can you please write a Logan x reader who likes flowers🥺 like someone gives her a flower and she gets very happy so he decides to buy bouquets for her to see her happy
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Contains: Logan Howlett X F!Reader
Warnings: Uhhhh none??? Cuss words???
Word Count: 1.08k
a/n: omg my first request!!!! been waiting for one :DD i hopes you like hope i delivered well...... im so bad at making endings i never know how the fluff to do it rahhhhh !!!!! enjoy enjoy feel free to request friends i find this sm funnnnnnn
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Unbeknownst to you, Logan took note of everything about you. He’d watch the way your eyes sparkled when you'd walk through the garden; he’d admire the way you carefully hand-selected flowers for whatever bouquet you were making that week; and even though he always seemed annoyed when you'd make whoever was driving pull over so you could pick the wildflowers on the side of the road, he secretly adored it. So when one of the students made a beeline for you, roses picked from the garden in hand, he took extra notes seeing something so simple make your entire week.
“It was just the sweetest thing!” You boasted about the flowers for the thousandth time; Logan didn't mind though; he could listen to you talk all day long. You could've been reciting War and Peace to him, and he'd still be utterly infatuated with every word that fell from your tongue. The two of you were sitting on a bench in the garden as you rambled on about those darn roses when Rouge had appeared holding a vase with the most gorgeous floral arrangement. “These were just dropped off for you.” She spoke, holding the bouquet out. “Oh my! Did they say from who?” You were grinning from ear to ear as you admired the flowers. “Nope! Card didn't say either.” You fished for the folded-over cardstock; opening it just left you with even more questions. ‘In a room full of art, I’d still stare at you’ was all that was printed on the card—no name, no initial, not even a hint of who might this be from. You looked up, giving Rouge a warm smile and thanking her before heading inside to set up your new arrangement.
You'd just finished cutting and placing your new flowers in a vase when Logan waltzed into the kitchen, “Who do you think they're from?” He asked, taking a swig from the bottle in his hand, “Not sure, but whoever they're from, they certainly know my favorite flowers.” You smiled down at the flowers, thankfully paying no real mind to Logan. His face was completely flush as he tried to mask the smile making its way to his lips with a quick swig from his beer. He just silently nodded in your direction before yelling a quick goodnight to you as he swiftly made his exit out the kitchen.
This continued on for weeks, your secret admirer sending flowers to you, sweet notes attached to all of them. You had saved every single one, keeping them locked in a small wooden box under your bed, and every week when new flowers would arrive, you'd cut a few off from your last bouquet, pressing them in books to also savor. You had interrogated every single person in the mansion about these mystery flowers, but to no avail, no one would confess. You didn't mind though; while it was frustrating to not thank your secret admirer, you appreciated the gifts nonetheless.
“I just wish whoever was doing this would say something.” You exasperated. You were sprawled across your bed staring at the ceiling as Logan sat at your desk picking at his fingernails, something he only did when he was nervous. “Maybe they're scared?” Logan offered, and you flipped to your stomach, looking over to him, "Well, they need to nut up and just tell me, I'm starting to run out of books to press these damn things!” His eyes go wide hearing you've been saving the flowers sent to you, your brows furrowing in confusion at his reaction. “What?” You ask, cocking your head to the side, “N-nothing; I think Charles is calling for me.” He practically runs out of your room after that. 
You 100% knew Logan was the one sending you all these floral bouquets; he made it so painfully obvious, but you weren't going to say anything. Honestly, you wanted to see how long he could keep his little act up. How many more arrangements were you going to get before he finally fessed up? Your answer came 2 months later, when you received a bouquet. The note attached was just coordinates and a timestamp of 7:26 p.m. Punching them into your phone, it was a botanical garden just a couple miles away, a smile creeping onto your face as your cheeks flushed red.
You stood at the beginning of the path in the garden at 7:26 on the dot, your heart a jackhammer in your chest, your breaths shakey and laced with anxiety. It had to be Logan, but what if it wasn’t... Your thoughts were racing in your head, making you feel dizzy, your stomach tying into knots as your heels clicked down the path. Each step closer, you could feel your body tense up like cement was coursing through your veins, hardening with each passing second. 
Rounding a corner to the center of the garden, you spotted an oh so familiar face holding a bouquet of your absolute favorite flowers, the goofiest smile planted on his face when he saw you coming around. “I fucking knew it.” You whispered to yourself; Logan nervously laughed, of course hearing what you said. “Surprisee…” He drew out, opening his arms up to you, wasting no time. You ran over to him, being engulfed in his oh-so-large arms that you loved. “I just saw how happy you were receiving those roses from that kid; I couldn't help it; I love seeing your smile.” He bashfully admitted, and you smiled up at him, planting a big, sloppy kiss on his cheek in response.
“I wanted to tell you so many times, but I wanted it to be special, y'know, because you're special.” His face was burning red as he spoke, “I notice everything about you, from the way flowers make your heart skip a beat to the way you rebuke the societal norms of appointment times.”
"God, I hate that everything is set in 5 or 10 minute increments.” You sighed against his chest, shaking your head. He laughed just at your dramatics, “Exactly why I had you show up at 7:26.” 
The rest of your evening was spent admiring the garden and teaching Logan about every flower you both came across, and of course he listened to everything, absorbing every minute detail he could. If your words were gold, he'd dress himself in them every day; he'd tattoo every sound that escaped from your mouth. You were as precious as rubies to him, and god, he was never letting you go.
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gatorbites-imagines · 3 months
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can i request for power bottom Butcher (the boys) overstimulating subtop male reader until he's basically crying and shaking? :3 bonus points if reader has powers (but is not a sup)
Billy Butcher x Supe male reader
Ficlet
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This lit something in my brain, but I am also tired, so the writing might be kinda messy. I didn’t have any specific powers in mind, but spiderman was in the back of my mind, so kinda based off that.
It’s been hard to get in the smut writing mood for a while, so im tryna dip my toes back into it. Hopefully it’s still good even though I’m rusty.
not proofread 🤞
The motel room was hot and humid, sweat running down the side of your forehead and into your hairline. You could taste the salt whenever you licked your lips, the dingy mattress under you soaked from all the sweat and other bodily fluids that had left not only you but Butcher as well.
The yellowed sheets were streaked with dirt from his heavy boots as he crouched above you, your chest shuddering as his strong hands grasped tightly at your calves. If it wasn’t for your healing factor, dark bruises would have dug into them a while ago, but they faded as soon as Butcher left them on you, making him grumble something about supes and their stupid powers.
You were the only one naked out of the two of you, body glistening in what little light passed in through the blinds, your hair a mess and eyes wet from unshed tears. Butcher had only kicked off his pants, even dragging them down and off, leaving his boots on before he had clambered up onto the bed and shoved your legs up by the knees.
Amazon position, you think it was called, something you had only seen online once or twice. But here was Butcher, smirking down at you as you grip at the sheets, tearing the cheap covers like tissue paper as you panted and moaned. There was something feral in his eyes as you tried to hump up into him, but the way he held your legs and pressed his weight down on you made it almost impossible, even with your super strength.
“B-Butch” you pant out, eyes blinking up a storm as you try to find the words, tongue feeling thick and useless, leaving you floundering like a fish out of water. You two had been going for hours, or rather, Butcher would push and pull at you, put his mouth on you, or jerk you till you were almost there. But then he would pull back, patting you on the head and telling you “Be good” before doing something else.
It could be anything from scrolling through the few channels on the cheap motel tv, to him going out to smoke a cigarette, or leaving to just wander the area or going to the store. The last one he had done before he came back to climb on top of you as he was now, his sturdy body bearing down on you so deliciously.
You were so close, close enough that it made you feel like you were about to cry. Something Butcher could easily tell, if the growing predatory smirk on his face meant anything. A warbled cry left you as he pulled up and off you again, a slick wet noise sounding as his hole pulled off your cock. You didn’t need to look to know that your length was a deep pained color, your balls so full and heavy that they felt almost as tortured as your cock.
Butcher laughed, voice heavy and dominant in the way that made your brain feel like mush melting out of your ears. Your bottom lip drew up and wobbled as you tried hard not to beg or cry, vision growing so blurry with tears even as Butcher’s hand reached down and patted your cheek. “Come on pup, you can take it, can’t ya?” he laughed, his voice so deliciously taunting and cruel that it made you throb, precum pouring out of your slit and down your sensitive aching shaft.
“Ya wanna be good for me, I know you do. My little supe” Butcher purred, leaning down just enough to ghost a kiss against the crown of your head. His satisfied tone made the tears spill over, a shaky sob leaving your chest as you dug your fingers into the mattress, a loud rip ringing out throughout the motel room.
The tsk that left Butcher made your heart ache, another pitiful pained sob leaving you. But this time it was not from the gut aching need to cum, but the very idea that you might have disappointed him. As his hand cradled your face more surely, you couldn’t help but nuzzle into it, kissing at his callused palm as you whimper out broken slurred apologies.
The silence felt heavy and loaded, but in the end, Butcher just sighed like one would sigh if they found out their pet had chewed up the carpet. “Can’t expect a supe like you to control himself. But ya did good enough, good boy” he rumbled out. And before you knew it, that tight wet heat was swallowing up your cock once more, punching the breath out of your chest as you keened, lost for words as Butcher started riding you like he was punishing you.
“come on boy, cum for me, show me what a supe like you has to offer” he growled out in that hot purred way, his weight slamming down on you as he worked his knees. You felt dizzy, sweat pouring off your body as you gasped and let out noises closer to a bark than a moan, the noise punched out of you every time his weight fell on your own.
It was almost enough, but there was something missing, even Butcher seemed to realize this. So, as you cried out tears of edging and sensitivity, Butchers strong hand grasped your chin, pressing his thumb and fingers into your jaw to make it unhinge and hang open. Your vision cleared up just enough to see him purse his lips, and watch as he spat into your mouth.
You couldn’t even tell if his spit had hit your tongue before you came, a noise coming from deep inside your chest as your entire body shook, jolts and quivers rushing through you as your entire lower body burned. It felt like you were underwater, his deep voice nothing more than a pleasant hum as he presumably praised you, his body pressing down on yours more insistently until you could only imagine he had finished too.
You felt like a well loved toy when he rose up off of you, standing on the ruined torn mattress as you spread out like an unfolded piece of paper, silent tears still running down your cheeks as you shivered from the aftershocks. A shaky whimper left you as you sensed Butcher getting off the bed and leaving to somewhere, but he was back before you could start crawling out of that blurry but pleasant spot you were in.
Butcher pressed kisses to your sweaty hair as he wiped you down, his voice low as he rumbled more praise and words of affirmation, even though he knew you couldn’t fully register what he was saying yet. His beard tickled as the kisses traveled down to your cheek, before they pressed against your own, Butcher leaving a sweet lingering kiss on your bitten lips.
Easily Butcher picked you up, moving you to the second bed of the motel room. There was no saving of the torn monstrosity that had been the bed he had played with you on all day, with the large rips and the stuffing spilling out. Hed remember to leave extra cash for it when you two left.
With a sigh Butcher shrugged off the rest of his clothes, crawling into bed beside you, letting you melt into his hairy chest as Butcher scrolled through the few channels on the tv. He settled on some Spanish telenovela, a loving huff leaving him as he felt your hands sticking to his chest as you lost grip of your powers. With a last kiss to the top of your head, Butcher settled back, letting you take all the time you needed to come back to earth. After that, he would get some food and drink in you, and a shower, you both needed that.
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crimsonbubble · 1 year
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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!!
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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?"
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seeingivy · 1 year
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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despairots · 1 year
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!
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━━━━━━━━ 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.
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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.
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[name] when they keep getting teased and literally cannot deal with it.
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norman-fucking-reedus · 6 months
Note
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
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“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.
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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★
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cl3fairyyy · 6 months
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routine : part 2 || edward nashton x GN!reader ⋆⭒˚。⋆
summary || you and edward finally go on a date
warnings || eddie is a liiiittle more stalker-y in this one, smoking, mentions of drinking, mentions of edward following reader home and just overall being his strange little self, this fic does get a little suggestive (no actual smut) so please MDNI!!!! i think that's everything, if i forgot anything i am so sorry </3 this fic is mostly just fluff with a side of awkward first date small talk
word count || 4.5k
notes || i am so sorry for the long wait on part 2!! been having the worst writers block of my life and my job has been taking over my life atm </3 but it is finally here!! i had so much fun writing this one, definitely thinking of doing a part 3 if u guys want it :)) apologies if at any point eddie is too OOC, he's definitely a little more confident in this one hehe. also this pic of paul is EXACTLY how I imagined him looking while writing this
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You arrive back at your dingy apartment later than you had planned and, admittedly, a lot tipsier than you had wanted to be.  
You shove your key into the crappy broken lock that your landlord refuses to fix and jiggle it around for several moments until you finally hear a click. Opening the door, you sway on your feet a little before stumbling over to the couch, kicking the door shut behind you; when you plop down on the velvety throw you use to cover up the horrible cracking leather of your equally horrible sofa, you sigh and throw your head back, allowing a smile to play onto your face.  
He had asked you on a date.  
You keep replaying the interaction in your head, mentally swooning at how Edward had lit your cigarette for you, how he had been so close that you could smell the laundry detergent on his clothes. You giggle like a schoolgirl, hugging one of your cushions as you fish around in your bag for your phone. You have to suppress a giddy squeal when you are greeted with not one, but three messages from a random number, one you can only guess belongs to Edward. You feel dizzy unlocking your phone, and you don’t know if it’s the alcohol or your nerves.  
Hi, it’s Edward. I hope you have a lovely rest of your night.  
I really liked talking to you today. You’re a very interesting person.  
Are you okay? It's late, did you get home safe?  
It takes everything in you to not dreamily sigh like you’re in a fucking rom-com. He's concerned about me, you think, typing a reply with a lopsided smile on your face.  
hiii yes im fine!! just made it home : )  
im vry drunk lol  
Immediately the grey typing bubble pops up and you launch your phone across the room, scrambling to the fridge to open the half-empty bottle of slightly too expensive rosé that you have been saving for the next time you rewatch Fleabag.   
You hear your phone ding twice and gingerly pick it up from underneath the coffee table, your hands shaking.  
Oh, good to hear that you’re safe haha. I was about to head back to the bar to see if you were okay.  
That was a joke by the way.  
You can’t stop a smile from spreading across your face. You take a swig from the bottle and begin typing.  
yea im sure it was lol  
it was nowhere near as interesting after u left. u were in such a hurry too are u ok??  
Edward’s cheeks grow red when he reads your second message. You think he’s interesting? Are you hinting that you would’ve preferred if he stayed?  
Wish I could have stayed for a bit longer haha, just had some work at home that I couldn’t get my mind off, so wanted to take another crack at it.  
Obviously, he can’t tell you that his work isn’t just some simple tax fraud, but a potential money laundering scandal that ties all the way back to Maroni and your own boss. He knows at this point, though, that you’re too polite to question him.  
u sure do work a lot!!!! idk how u havent burnt out yet.   
try to get some rest if u can : ) its not like the work wont be there tmrw!!!!  
Edward smiles. You are so lovely to him; the idea that someone like you could show so much kindness to him makes his heart swell and his eyes fill with tears. A few run down the tip of his nose and plop onto his phone screen.  
I know, I know. Sometimes it feels like I can’t switch my brain off haha. It’s been in overdrive since I got home.  
He cringes at himself. Is he meant to text so formally? You're pretty much the only contact in his phone besides his landlord and the office. He glances down at his screen, noticing that you’ve read his message but haven’t started typing an answer, and immediately begins to panic.  
Of course someone like you couldn’t like him. He was a fool to think you were any different than anyone else in this shithole of a city. You’re probably still sat with your colleagues at that shitty bar, reading out his messages and all having a good old laugh at him. Everyone get a load of Nashton! you're probably saying, and he feels sick to his stomach.   
soso sorry my phone just died out of nowhere!!! i srsly did not mean to leave u on opened  
honestly i get u i can be like that. its probably worse for u tho bc ur so smart lol  
whats been sending the brain of eddie into overdrive tonight??  
Edward shakes his head at how silly he’s being. It would be funny if he didn’t feel so pathetic. He reads your messages over and over until his eyes burn; no one has ever given him a nickname before. Eddie. He rereads the nickname, trying to imagine how it would sound coming out of your mouth. His mind begins to wander, picturing you lying beneath him, bare chest heaving as you moan that name to him. Eddie.  
He's snapped out of his thoughts when his phone lights up again with a notification from his news app. He attempts to push down his building arousal before it completely clouds his mind, and scrambles for his phone to send you a reply.   
It’s a little embarrassing, but... I have been thinking non-stop about the conversation we had outside.  
I really would like to take you out, if you’ll let me. If you’d like to pick where we go so you feel more comfortable, I’m happy with that. I’m sure you know much nicer places to go than I do anyway haha.  
You squeal at your phone, kicking your feet in the air like a goddamn teenager. You hastily type a reply, and soon enough you’ve made plans for Sunday to go to a lovely downtown jazz club that plays live music. It's one of your favourite spots in the whole city.  
You fall asleep fairly quickly after throwing yourself on your bed still fully clothed. You don’t think twice about how bad your hangover will be when you wake up, instead picturing your date with Edward and just how lovely he is.  
Edward, on the other hand, stays up all night, his thoughts rife with anxiety. You'd had one conversation in a loud bar, and now he’s expected to keep you entertained for an entire evening? What if you didn’t find him interesting? What if he ran out of things to talk about? What if you stood him up entirely?  
He shakes his head, trying as hard as he can to shake the thoughts from his brain entirely. He opens your social media, which he has found himself doing every time he seems to be on the verge of a panic attack recently. He finds his favourite picture of you, a candid photo of you in a coffee shop mid-laugh, your eyes sparkling and cheeks rosy. He loves your smile in this picture.  
He hopes he can make you smile like that.  
Saturday goes by painfully slowly for you. The dragging hours aren’t helped by your awful hangover that seems to have convinced your brain that any slight movement will have you vomiting. You cringe rereading the messages you sent Edward the evening prior, hangxiety hitting you like a train.  
Eddie? Seriously?  
You have one conversation with the guy and have already started throwing nicknames around- you're in shock that you didn’t scare him off with how forward you were being. If he brings it up, you can always blame it on how drunk you were, which isn’t exactly a lie.  
He doesn’t text you until later in the evening, just a simple message confirming that you’re still on for tomorrow. You wonder if he’s as nervous as you are, if his anxiety manifests itself in the way he chews at his lower lip the same way you do.  
When Sunday finally rolls around, you wake up extra early to give yourself as much time to get ready as humanly possible. You would never admit it to anyone, but you’d picked out your outfit the night before and laid it on your desk chair, your nervous excitement barely allowing you to get a wink of sleep.   
Edward had offered to pick you up, but you really do not need him seeing the shithole you live in the first time he sees you outside of work. You both agree to meet outside the bar, and since it’s in walking distance from your apartment, you decide against getting a taxi.  
Gotham is strangely beautiful in March, the last moments of winter finally coming to fruition. The sun is just beginning to set when you step out into the chilly air, casting an orange glow on the old buildings and warming your cheeks against the cold.   
Edward’s heart races as he clumsily stumbles out of the subway station. He's almost twenty minutes early and grasps a cluster of lilies in one hand, the other of which he uses to steady himself against a lamppost. The lady from his favourite podcast whispers soothingly in his ear as he attempts to block out the loudness of the city and steady his breathing.  
“You are strong, and you are worthy. Be the change you want to see.”  
He closes his eyes, taking deep breaths before finally grounding himself. Edward is all too aware of how he must look right now: sweaty, clutching a bouquet of flowers while standing alone outside a bar. He glances at his watch. Still ten minutes until your meeting time.  
He tries to ignore the lump in his throat and the stinging in his eyes. You will show up. You have to.  
Edward jumps slightly when his phone chimes in his pocket. His heart drops when he realises it’s a text from you.  
so sorry!!! running a few mins late :/ decided to walk today and ofc that’s the day that every traffic light in the city decides to break LOL  
The light-hearted tone in your message doesn’t do much to comfort him. He types a short answer and sends it, trying to focus all of his energy on his podcast and not crying from how utterly terrified he is.  
Ten minutes after your initially agreed upon meeting time, Edward hears a voice shouting his name. He looks up to be met with the image of you practically sprinting down the street towards him. You pull to a stop in front of him, smoothing your hair down and smiling bashfully up at him. Christ, you forgot how tall he is.  
“Before you say anything, I am so sorry. First there was the traffic light thing, then one of my old college friends stopped me in the street and decided that she wanted to update me on every single day of the past three years of her life.”  
You breathe in heavily through your nose, your hands on your knees as you try and keep yourself from keeling over. You make a mental note to begin using that gym membership you keep renewing. Quitting smoking would probably help, too.  
You look up when Edward hasn’t responded for several moments, and his cheeks are very pink.  
“Look, you have every right to be pissed at me. If you want to cancel-”  
Before you can finish, Edward interrupts you by thrusting a bouquet of flowers into your hands.  
“Th-these are for you. I, um, remembered you mentioning lilies were your favourite flower, so...” He stumbles over his words, talking just a little too fast. 
You're quite literally lost for words. You examine the flowers, your cheeks growing warm; it's a lovely spray of pink, yellow and orange lilies, tied together with a cream ribbon. They’re a little crumpled, but nothing that can’t be fixed with a little plant food. You smile at Edward.  
“Oh, Edward. They're gorgeous, really, thank you. No guy’s ever gotten me flowers before...”  
A small, lopsided grin spreads across his face.   
“I can’t imagine why anyone lucky enough to have you wouldn’t get you flowers.”  
You flush at that, and loop your arm around his, leading him inside. You manage to find a nice booth in the corner, away from the stage and speakers that surround it while Edward heads to the bar. You anxiously drum your fingers on the table and scroll through your phone, not really paying attention to what you’re meant to be reading as your mind replays what Edward had said earlier.  
Edward watches you from the bar, admiring the high flush on your cheekbones and the way your outfit hugs your body. By the time he’s ordered and heading back to your table, you seem a little more relaxed. You smile at him gratefully as you accept your drink and try not to make your staring too obvious.  
He looks handsome. He's wearing such a basic outfit, just a simple button up shirt and some smart slacks, but there’s something about Edward wearing something so casual and making it look so good that has you crossing your legs under the table.  
“You look lovely tonight, by the way.”  
You smile shyly at him, tracing your finger around the rim of your glass.  
“Thank you, Edward. I have to say, you clean up pretty good yourself.”  
He laughs, and you don’t miss the way it sounds like it's one of disbelief.  
“Well, I don’t know if I’d say that.”  
You roll your eyes playfully, taking a sip of your drink.  
“Well, I would. You look really handsome.”  
Edward shakes his head, a bashful smile on his face as he looks down, taking a sip of water. The pair of you sit there for a few moments in awkward silence, trying to think of something to start a conversation with. 
“So-” 
“You-” 
You lock eyes and both laugh, cheeks red. You wave your hand. 
“Sorry, you go.” 
Edward averts his gaze, fiddling with his collar. 
“I, um, was just going to ask how you found this place? I’ve never even heard of it. Well, I suppose the fact I don’t drink and don’t listen to jazz music doesn’t help, but...” 
Edward finds himself trailing off, kicking himself for how utterly awkward he is. The way you smile at him, unfazed, doesn’t help. 
How could someone like you ever find any interest in someone like him? 
“It’s a funny story, actually. My old roommate was on a date with this absolute dick, and she needed me to come save her. So, what happened was....” 
As you tell him the grandiose story of having to pretend to be your roommates' partner who caught her cheating, and how you had to run away when her date attempted to fight you, Edward can’t help but admire the way your eyes light up as you gesture wildly with your hands, the way your laugh comes out as an adorable snort when you attempt to do an impression of her very flustered date.  
You are so beautiful. He wishes he could capture this moment in a bottle and replay it every day, for the rest of his life. 
He doesn’t realise how much he’s staring until you clear your throat a little awkwardly, clearly finished with your tale. He can feel the warmth on his cheeks. 
“Ah, well, I do hope you don’t have some secret boyfriend who’s going to jump out on me like that.” 
He bites his lip after saying whatever the hell that was, but to his complete disbelief you laugh. Not a pity laugh, not one of discomfort, but a genuine laugh, one that’s just a little too loud, one that disturbs some of the patrons around you. 
You clearly don’t care, your head thrown back as that smile, that lovely smile from his favourite picture spreads across your face. Even as you speak, uncontrollable giggles escape you. 
“Oh God, can you imagine? Lucky for you, I’ve been single for a while, so don’t worry about my secret boyfriend coming in and trashing the place.” 
That makes Edward laugh, much to your pleasure, and just like that, the tension in the air has dissolved. You can see Edward’s tense shoulders visibly relax, and the next few hours are spent under the warm light of the bar’s lamps, your conversations hushed and filled with longing glances, and it feels like you’re the only two people in the world that exist. 
The two of you step out into the bitter cold of the evening, hands fumbling for your respective cartons of cigarettes. Your shivering hands are somehow able to summon a flame from your crappy old lighter, and the alcohol in your system, as well as the way Edward looks at you with such adoration in his eyes, warm you from the inside out. He offers you his arm and you take it maybe just a little too enthusiastically as you walk through the city streets. 
When you look up at Edward, he’s already got his eyes on you, the tip of his nose pink from the late winter air. You can feel the flush spreading across your face, quickly averting your eyes to the sparkling lights of the skyscrapers. 
Edward retracts his arm from yours, and you look up at him again, confused and somewhat offended. He’s shrugging his parka off his shoulders and draping it over your own before you can even comprehend what’s happening. 
“You’re shivering. You might not feel cold because you’ve been drinking, but I can see the goosebumps on your arms.” 
He says this so matter-of-factly. Does he not realise how romantic and thoughtful his actions are? He opens his mouth to speak again, but you interrupt him. 
“Thank you.” 
He offers you that adorable lopsided grin that accentuates just how round and soft his cheeks are. 
“It’s really no problem. I don’t want you getting sick.” 
Maybe it’s the alcohol. Maybe it’s just how perfect the night has been. Maybe it’s the way he looks at you like you’re the most beautiful person he’s ever seen. Before you can second-guess yourself, you’re removing the cigarette from between his lips and replacing it with a kiss. 
He's stiff at first, unsure, before you feel a hesitant hand on your face, thumb caressing your cheek. He pulls away first, pressing his forehead to yours, and you can practically see the stars in his eyes. 
“...Wow.” 
You suddenly feel bashful, pulling away from him completely and taking a drag from your cigarette. 
“Sorry, I-” 
“Why are you apologising?” 
You meet his gaze again, his glasses fogged up, but not enough to conceal the way his brow knits with worry, the apprehension in his eyes. 
“I don’t know, I- I should have asked first.” 
He takes your hand in his own, his smile so comforting that you feel all your worries melt away almost instantaneously. 
“You don’t ever have to worry about asking me something like that. The answer will always be yes.” 
He kisses you again, softly, and you can taste the tobacco on his tongue, making your head spin. His other hand comes to rest on your hip, squeezing it reassuringly as he takes your breath away. 
You pull away first this time, readjusting his glasses which have slipped down his nose. 
“Do you want to come back to my place?” 
Edward’s face goes entirely red at your suggestion, and he stumbles over his words as he tries to string together a coherent sentence. 
“I- um, well...” 
You smile patiently, and he returns it somewhat hesitantly. 
“I’ve- I’ve really enjoyed our night together, and I, just, um... I like you so much that, ah, I don’t really think we should rush anything. You’ve had a bit to drink, and I would hate to take advantage of that.” 
Your eyes sting at his rejection as you attempt to muster up a tight-lipped smile, nodding stiffly. Edward’s smile drops. 
“Oh dear, I’ve upset you, haven’t I?” 
When you don’t quite meet his eyes, he sighs and gently holds your hand, giving you the chance to push him away. When you don’t, he pushes a little further, holding your chin between two fingers and tilting your head up to meet his gaze. 
“I’m not lying when I say I like you. I really do, and I would hate to rush something as important as... that... especially when you’re intoxicated. I don’t want you to have any regrets. You're too special.” 
Your heart leaps at his words, and you give Edward a small smile. It was never about him, or his comfort. He’s worried that you’d regret sharing yourself with him. 
“I... yeah. I guess I’m just used to guys only expecting one thing out of a date. I really like you too, Eddie.” 
He presses a chaste kiss to your lips, offering you his hand. 
“Let me walk you home?” 
You nod, leaning into his side.  
Edward, of course, knows exactly where you live, but feigns ignorance as you take the lead back to your apartment. He'd know your building anywhere, thanks to his tendency to follow you home after work to ensure your safety, but being in front of it now, with you by his side, feels so fresh and new that it’s almost as if he’s seeing it for the first time. 
It's falling apart, of course. Every building in Gotham that isn’t owned by someone extremely wealthy is. Crude graffiti adorns the crumbling brick walls, and he feels you stiffen up beside him when you notice a couple of shady guys, probably dealing drops, only a few feet away. 
“It’s not exactly... the best area. Will you at least wait for your cab in my apartment? I really don’t want you getting mugged, or worse.” 
Even with his impressive height, you’re worried Edward could be a target. His smart clothes definitely don’t help. 
Edward can hardly believe his luck at finally being able to see the inside of your apartment. Of course, he’s seen it from outside your window when he’s perched on your fire escape late at night, but this is different. This is intimate. Even though he’d turned down your offer for sex, you’re still revealing such a personal aspect of yourself to him. 
You trust him. 
You lead him into the rundown building, apologising for the elevator that has been broken for months. He already knows that, but nods anyway.  
“That’s okay. Five flights of stairs won’t do me any harm.” 
When you finally make it inside, he perches somewhat awkwardly on your couch, his height making the piece of furniture appear ridiculously small. You curl up on the other side of the sofa, giving him his space as he books an Uber home. 
The silence is thick, but comfortable. Edward is so engrossed in his phone that you’re finally given the chance to really study his features. The curve of his strong nose that holds up his glasses, the roundness of his cheeks, the softness of his jaw. The warmth of the numerous lamps scattered around your apartment light up his face with a soft glow that makes him look almost cherubic. 
Edward glances at you, clearly feeling your intense gaze. He doesn’t seem anywhere near as nervous as usual, his smile relaxed. 
“You okay?” 
You prop your head up with your hand and nod, content. 
“You’re so handsome, you know?” 
His cheeks grow pink, his smile a little more shy. His voice is a whisper when he speaks. 
“Thank you.” 
You lapse into another comfortable silence as he returns to his phone, the smile never leaving his face. His phone chimes and he stands reluctantly. 
“Cab’s nearly here...” 
You walk him to the door, and he lingers for a moment. 
“Can I-?” 
You don’t give him time to finish, tugging him down by his collar and pressing your lips to his in another soft kiss. His hands find refuge at your waist, pulling you closer to him. You run your hands up his sides, and he reacts with a delicious shiver to your utter delight. Gathering your nerves, you tease his lower lip with a nibble, and he chases your mouth with a soft groan when you pull away from him.  
You grin at his flustered state, his cheeks red and glasses fogged up, his sandy fringe ruffled beyond repair. You press one more lingering kiss to his lips before unlocking your door. 
“You said your taxi’s nearly here?” 
A chuckle escapes Edward, an octave lower than what you’re used to, and your knees go weak at the sound. He runs his hand through his hair, adjusting his glasses. 
“You are so cruel.” 
You glance down, immediately realising what he’s referencing, and giggle giddily. 
“You’ll just have to wait for next time, I guess.” 
He sighs, a dazed smile on his face. 
“So, you want me to take you out again?” 
You roll your eyes playfully, standing on your tiptoes so that your mouth is on level with his ear. You run a hand down his chest, your voice a sultry purr. 
“I thought that much was obvious.” 
Edward breathes out heavily through his nose and you smile innocently at him before kissing his cheek. The tension is shattered by the loud sound of his ringtone and you both jump back, the spell broken. Edward smiles apologetically at you when he answers the phone before panic spreads across his face. You can faintly hear a very angry man shouting at him on the other side of the line. 
“Yes, yes! Sorry! I’ll be right there! Sorry!” 
The other caller hangs up and you snort, pushing him gently out the door. 
“Don’t let me keep you any longer from the most awkward ride home of your life. Are you gonna tell the driver you left him waiting so long because you were making out with your colleague?” 
Edward stumbles over his words, the flush on his cheeks somehow deepening.  
“I, ah, will not be doing that. Christ, I’m going to have to tip him even more than I was planning to, aren’t I?” 
You giggle and Edward laughs too, giving you one last quick kiss before practically throwing himself down the stairs. 
You close your door, sighing dreamily like the protagonist of a cheesy rom-com. You shoot Edward a quick text and sink onto your sofa, your heart thrumming. You'd gotten him to open up. You're going to go on another date. You kissed him. As far as first dates go, you’d chalk that up to being pretty successful.  
The rest of your evening is spent texting back and forth with Edward, and when you finally roll into bed your brain is clouded with thoughts of him, his smile, the feeling of his lips on yours. You’re so focused on the image of Edward’s silly flustered smile after you kissed him for the first time that your rational thinking completely skips over one minor detail that you’ll have completely forgotten by the time you wake up. 
How did he know what floor you live on? 
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peaterookie · 8 months
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Lupin Week 2024 Day 4: AUs and Mythology
Goemon's face looks like he's seen a ghost.
ahhhh god ok my stupid stupid silly au i made a year ago.... this will be a bit long so get ready
tldr: lupin died, the gang is alive. goemon finds lupin but he's a shark merman!? and lupin remembers nothing!!!
long version:
so this AU follows upon the story of shin lupin, which basically, the gang gets killed off by zenigata because he rigged an island full of explosives.
instead of them all dying however, lupin decides to knock the gang unconscious and find a way for them to escape off the island safely, leaving only him in the island to die.
the rest of the gang had no idea how they escaped and assumed that lupin had sacrificed himself for them. they woke up adrifted on the ocean until they eventually got picked up by a ship where the invisible captain from new adventures returns. but ah ill spare the details for another day
---
2 years have passed and the gang just kinda separated to do their own thing. we'll only focus on goemon cuz he's the featured character of this comic.
goemon decided to escape the life of crime that has burdened him for years living as a part of the lupgang. he's mostly a wanderer now and tries to do good and help people along the way
funnily enough, goemon is not the first person to find lupin, but I'll talk about this later. but goemon is definitely very mixed about seeing his friend who he thought was dead for years. he doesn't know whether to be happy or worried.
---
lupin, at the brink of death after the explosion, plummets down the ocean and wakes up one day, feeling like he's been rebirthed!
essentially, lupin became a merman because right before he could die, his body (i mean what's left of it 💀) interacted with a magic crystal that has the ability to grant life to a living being.
It's really rare, but it exists in clusters deep in the ocean floor or- deep under the rocks of an island :) you can say im bullshitting, which i am but i dont think exploding an entire island down to every rock has happened before, so it can kinda make sense why something so coincidental about these crystals could happen. (I AM TOTALLY MAKING EXCUSES I JUST WANTED TO MAKE LUPIN A MERMAN.)
and so these crystals used whats left of lupins body and reassembled him back, and idk other essences of the ocean to make him a merman!
the memories of his past life have definitely been buried deep inside his brain to the point he can't remember any of it though, so he thinks that he was born under the ocean and has lived there for his entire life. other than that he retains almost everything about himself, down to stealing stupid shit and messing with humans just for the fucks of it. he's kinda seen as like a nessie.
---
anyways, y'know how i said goemon wasn't the first one to meet lupin? that's because lupin has met zenigata before!
living a life with only fishes around means lupin's kinda lonely and likes to stalk humans sometimes. the interaction with him and zenigata did not end well though, and lupin has no idea why zeni wants him dead so much.
after that he's way more cautious around people that look like zenigata- hatted big men with guns. its gonna be fun once he sees jigen.
ok what else... i think that's all i want to reveal now. will i do more of this? maybe. maybe not. kinda embarrassed of this because of how silly it is but i hope you people find this interesting! byebye
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gorgeys · 1 month
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heyyy i've been thinking about this specific scenario w our queen for a while now and id love to see you writing about it if possible bc ur amazinggg
so basically ive been thinking about maeve and reader being in the beginning of their relationship but maeve is still very closed off and hates any sign of vulnerability so when reader notices that and tries to help maeve process her emotions in a healthier way than w drugs or just bottling up like she always does she gets really defensive and fight w reader about it but then maeve realize that it was a shitty thing to do n apologize to reader because she really wants this to work its just that old habits die hard
basically angst w happy ending bc im a sucker for hurt/comfort
never let me go ★ queen maeve
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Queen Maeve x fem!reader
Maeve has her walls up, but you help her break them down
Warnings: angst, hurt/comfort
Word Count: 2960
Note: thank you sm for the great request! i'm not the best at writing this hurt/comfort stuff but i really tried!! i hope you enjoy!
you stuffed shredded chicken into a searing pan of sauce.  if someone had walked in, they would have assumed you were cooking for a family of six. but no, the pan was piled high just for your girlfriend who had a never-ending appetite and claimed she'd rather eat your food than the meals at any restaurant.  that boosted your ego quite a bit considering maeve had literally dined at the most expensive and renowned restaurants in America.
some nights she'd come up behind you while you whipped up one of your classic dishes and wrap her arms around your waist.  she'd leave little kisses behind your ear and tell you how much she missed you, leaving a stupid smile on your face.  then she'd rest her head on your shoulder and ask you to tell her everything about your day because her day was "boring as usual."  you didn't consider being a crime-fighting superhero boring by any means, but you got the hint that she didn't want to talk about it.
but then other nights you wondered if the meal was all she came for.  it was nights like tonight, where she sat silently at the kitchen table with a beer in one hand and an empty bottle beside her, that left you worrying. whenever you glanced back at her, she always seemed to be blankly staring off into space, as if complicated thoughts were clouding her mind.  you had tried giving her space but you couldn't get rid of the feeling that something was wrong.
she only makes her presence known when she gets up from her chair, opens the fridge, and reaches for another beer.  upon noticing, you release a tired sigh that catches her attention.
"maeve, do you really need another?" you ask without turning around.  "i mean, you're gonna finish the whole case."
she closes the fridge behind her.
"i can just go out and buy some more," she says with a simple shrug.
"no, maeve, that's not what i mean," you say.  you half turn to meet her eyes and just look at her for a moment, wondering if she'll catch on.  from the little twitch of her eyes, you think she does, but she still doesn't say anything.  she just stands there and stares back at you, her hand wrapped around the neck of the bottle.  you sigh once more.  "is something going on?"
"what? no," she quickly says with the slight furrow of her eyebrows as if it's a stupid question. she doesn't sound one bit convincing.
"right," you say, fully turning around and dropping the wooden spoon into the pan. you lean your back against the edge of the counter.  "so you just sit in silence, drinking like a fish for no reason at all?"
she scoffs and laughs as if you're being absurd.
"since when do you care how much i drink?" she asks with her usual satirical smile.  you know that smile well.  it's the one she always displays when the conversation is teetering on something uncomfortable.
"since you started drinking like a middle-aged man going through a divorce."
"oh, come on, y/n" she says, waving you off.  "it's just cause i can't really get drunk like a normal person.  i need a few more."
"a few more?" you ask with raised eyebrows.  "maeve, you drink enough to kill a couple racehorses.  i mean, the only people i've seen drink that much are people trying to forget things."
her smile falters and you take it as a sign that you're headed in the right direction.
"if anything's going on, i want you to know that you can talk to me about it," you say sincerely, taking a step toward her.  "i'm always here for you, no matter what."
you catch her rolling her eyes before she turns away from you.
"god, stop with all the sappy shit," she says sharply.  she slams the beer on the tabletop rather hard.  "i'm fine, okay?" she says, borderline shouting.
"then talk to me, please," you say, placing a hand over your chest.  you know you sound a little pathetic as you plead but you hope it gets through to her.  "because it's so hard to guess what you're feeling when you just sit there not saying anything.  i can only imagine the worst."
she audibly groans before she sits back in her chair.  her eyes lock dead onto yours and she ignores the desperation written all over your face.
"i have shitty enough days already, the last thing i wanna do is come here and talk about my fucking feelings like i'm in kindergarten.  i deal with enough children at vought already," she says, crossing her arms and staring daggers into you.
you press your lips together out of frustration.  she's a grown woman but she's acting like an immature teenager.
"well you can't just keep everything to yourself," you say, matching her posture and crossing your own arms.  "i know it's a lot to carry between the seven and vought and having to save everyone in this whole shitty city, so don't feel like you have to carry it alone."
she laughs at you and it only feels like a punch to your gut.
"god, i didn't know i was talking to my fucking therapist," she says, overenunciating her words and practically spitting at you in the process.  "do you come up with these lines yourself or do you steal them off inspirational pinterest boards?" she asks with a derisive smile.
"maeve," you sigh, growing tired of this game that you're playing.  she's usually awful at these touchy conversations but she's especially defensive tonight.  you take another step toward her. "all i'm asking is that you have a real conversation with me.  i mean, i feel like i'm talking to a stranger half the time because i don't know a single thing about you.  you wanna talk about the bachelor for an hour but can't tell me a thing about your day or what's actually bothering you.  it's like pulling teeth with you."
you take a final cautious step toward her and place one palm on the table to support your weight. you're standing just inches away from her.
"stop shutting me out.  it's hurting both of us," you say, more softly this time.
"you mean it's hurting you," she says, punctuating her words by slamming her fist on the table, causing you to flinch and jump away from her.  you look down and notice she's cracked the wooden surface.
you've never been seriously scared of her strength before, but you are in this moment.
"i'm doing just fine, actually. you just want me to have a break down so you can feel better about yourself and your small, meaningless problems," she says, rising from her chair.
you scoff out of disbelief.
"do you even hear yourself right now?" you ask, throwing your hands up in the air.  "i'm your girlfriend, not some villain you have to fight.  i'm not praying on your downfall.  all i wanna do is help you."
she laughs and shakes her head while you huff.  it boils your blood when she treats you like this, like some ignorant outsider, not someone who cares so deeply about her.
"oh, okay y/n, so let's just hold hands and sing kumbaya and maybe all my problems will disappear," she says, the typical sarcasm dripping from her tone.  it's quickly replaced by venom.  "you can't do anything to help me.  you're stupid for ever thinking you could," she yells, before falling back into her chair and opening the beer bottle with the flick of her thumb.
once again, you just stare at her, wondering if she'll recognize the insanity behind her words and the visible hurt they've inflicted on you.  but no, she just takes a long swig from the bottle, letting you know that nothing you've said has pierced her tough exterior.
finally, you've reached your limit with her.  you know this is going nowhere.
"well fuck me, maeve, for trying to help," you say, spinning around and turning the stove off.  she puts her beer down, a little surprised by the abrupt change in your usually understanding nature.  "you can make your own dinner and go back to your bougie penthouse and drink yourself to death up there, okay?  i'm not fucking doing this tonight."
she only watches as you, with glossy eyes, stomp toward your bedroom and slam the door behind you.  she doesn't make an effort to stop you, but instead sits there almost dumbfounded by the way she's tipped you over the edge.  she had never seen you like this before.
she stays at your now cracked kitchen table for quite a while, downing her third beer and contemplating if she should go in and talk to you or leave like you asked.
even if she did push aside the embarrassment and work up the courage to knock on your bedroom door, what would she even say to you?  that she has blood on her hands from all the people homelander's killed and she can't take it anymore?  that when she closes her eyes, all she can see are those screaming, terrified, innocent people?  that that's why she's broken inside?  no, those are her burdens to carry, not yours, she thinks.  she can't scare you away now, not this soon.
"fuck," she curses as she stands up from the table, eyes locked on your bedroom door.
she wants to be in that bed with you, her head tucked in the crook of your neck as you sleep soundly.  she wants to fall asleep to your perfect, soothing smell and the soft sound of your breathing like she usually does.
but no.  no matter how much her heart hurts, she can't bring herself to your door.  she can't let you see through her like that.  instead, she throws the bottles into your trash can and walks out of your apartment.
xxx
for the next few days, all maeve can think about is you.  she thinks about you opening your apartment door for her, close to midnight, after a long night of crime-fighting.  you're in your cute plaid pajama pants and maybe your oversized queen maeve shirt that she stole for you from vought tower.
she thinks about watching netflix on the couch with you, cuddled under your favorite soft blue blanket.  she thinks about the moment you slump against her shoulder as you begin to doze off.
she even misses your texts.  she misses your "have the best day, baby!!" texts.  she misses all the heart-eye emojis you send her.  she misses the cute impromptu pictures you take, especially the ones you take of yourself kissing random queen maeve billboards or posters around the city.  she misses your "i love you <3" texts.
and it's during a boring seven meeting where she keeps checking her phone, hoping for a text from you, that she realizes that she can't lose you.  she desperately needs you and every day that she doesn't see you feels like a pointless one.  she can't carry on with vought or the seven or saving people if she doesn't have you to come home to.
so maybe, to make this thing between the two of you work, she needs to change.  maybe she needs to open up, because losing you is not an option.
that's the sentiment she repeats in her head as she knocks on your apartment door, waiting impatiently to see you for the first time since your fight.
she hears the pitter pattering of your bare feet from behind the door before you swing it open.  and there you are, in all your glory of messy hair and sweatpants.  you don't say anything, so maeve sends you a weak smile.
"hi," she says awkwardly, looking almost embarrassed to be in her current situation.
"hi," you reply, more coldly than she's used to.  though she understands after everything she said last time.
she stares at you for another beat, soaking in every part of your presence.  relief floods her body just seeing you.
"i, um, i bought you a new table," she says, raising the cardboard ikea box she had tucked under one arm.  "i'm sorry about what i did to your other one."
you open the door wider so she can come in and set the box down in your kitchen.  when she walks back to you, you still have one hand on the door edge, holding the door open.
"is that all you came to do or..."
she can't read your blank expression.  do you want her to leave or stay?  it doesn't matter.  she has to be brave right now.
"no," she says, standing awkwardly in your living room, her fingers playing with the hem of her sweater.  she nervously looks down at the floor for a moment.  she reminds you of a shy school girl that's trying to work up the courage to ask out her crush.  "can we talk?"
you close and lock the door and notice that maeve's already invited herself to sit on your couch.  so you sit beside her, your body turned toward her and your elbow resting on the top of the couch.  you watch as she sits there stiffly, as if she's never been there before, with her hands tightly folded in her lap.
her gaze nervously flickers from your face to her hands every few seconds.  you can see the gears in her brain spinning in overdrive as she tries to find the right words.  although the air is slightly tense and awkward, you would sit there for hours if it meant maeve would finally share herself with you.
"y/n," she finally says, abruptly raising her head to look you in the eye.  your heart jumps a little. "being a hero isn't all it's cracked up to be.  i've...seen terrible things," she says before taking a deep breath.  "i've done terrible things."
you realize that this is the moment.  this is the moment where she's finally going to let you into her life.  her whole life.  so, you shelve your anger and gently rest a hand over one of her wrists.  you give her skin a soft, encouraging squeeze that tells her to continue.
"and...the guilt is the worst part.  i-" she pauses to take another shaky breath and then press her lips together.  you can see that tears are beginning to prick the corners of her eyes.  "i don't know what to do," she admits, her voice cracking.  your heart cracks along with it.
"and i guess..." she continues.  "i didn't want you to have to worry about that.  i didn't want to scare you," she says, looking back down at her hands.
"maeve," you coo, resting your other hand on her shoulder.  a pout naturally finds it's way to your lips.  seeing her this emotional almost makes you want to cry with her.
"and i'm so sorry.  because...not telling you made everything even worse.  and i just don't want to lose you," she says, a tear rolling down her cheek.  her hand immediately rises to wipe it away.  "i don't want to lose you because of something stupid like this."
"maeve," you say, your hand leaving her shoulder to push a strand of hair out of her face.  "it's okay., it's not stupid.  i get it, you're not used to doing...this. i know it's hard for you."  you gently hold her cheek in her hand, forcing her to make eye contact with you.  "but you could never scare me away.  i promise.  i'm with you because i want to know all of you.  all the bad stuff too."
"but, y/n, it's really bad," she says, pressing her lips together to prevent herself from breaking down.
you're leaning into her and holding her face with both hands now, your foreheads almost touching.
"maeve, you're a good person," you say.  you sound so sincere that maeve can't help the silent tears that start to flow rapidly.  that was everything she needed to hear and more.  "i know that.  you know that.  whatever is going on, it's not something that we can't overcome together.  if you let me in, i'm going to help you as much as i can, okay?  i'm always here for you," you say.
she nods in your hands and feels her body flooded by an overwhelming sense of comfort.
"i need you, y/n.  i need this to work. and i wanna be better.  for you," she says, finally bumping your forehead with hers.
"i know.  and i know it's scary to tell me all this stuff but i promise, it's going to get easier.  if you trust me, there's nothing we can't do," you say, a little smile finding it's way to your face.  you know it sounds cheesy and it's something maeve would have made fun of you for under typical circumstances, but in the moment, it feels right.  "and you know i love you, right?"
she instinctively wraps her arms around your shoulders, engulfing you in the tightest hug you've ever received from her.  she familiarly tucks her head into the crook of your neck, inhaling that smell she missed so much.
"i love you so much," she whispers into your skin and you melt in her arms.  you hold her just as tightly, your fingers rubbing up and down her back.  "i missed you."
"i missed you more," you say.
"i'm never letting you go again," she says, squeezing you to her chest even tighter, and you laugh softly.  she's telling the honest truth.
though fear still lingered in the back of her mind, this feeling sure as hell beat any alcohol.
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addisonnie · 2 years
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hinge and uhaul
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summary: college!au. when all else fails…one must look for love on hinge!
an: hi! back from hiatus and of course it would be for a clump of pixels because i am down astronomically bad! this is the first part of a possible series! so let me know if a part 2 is warranted.
warnings: cursing, reader has 0 rizz shes literally a mess, reader also rambles and lots of this is just her inner dialogue because why not. also not very edited and possible tense shifts because im the worst!
part 2 ———————————
Tinder is a soul-sucking vortex. 
A nightmarish flurry of shirtless mirror selfies, conservatives, and men that look like they’d hit on your mom after walking you to the door. Switching your profile settings from ‘men’ to ‘everyone’ seemed like the best option; It wasn’t. The best option would’ve been to delete your account and light your phone on fire after receiving the fourth “you send?” message in a row.
Hinge is a smaller soul-sucking vortex. At least you can deny their comments before you embarrass yourself by matching with a douche like that. Your account is set to ‘show me everyone’ and you can only hope that ‘everyone’ includes at least some good ones. Swiping and clicking on dating apps seems to be more of a game than it is actual match-making, a time-passer of sorts. 
Your roommate, Dina, huffs loudly from her lofted bed across the room, “would you get your sorry ass off of that app? It’s sad listening to you moan and groan about all the losers!”
You roll your eyes, “my soulmate could be the next person!”
No. No. No, again. Oooh…yes? 
You swipe through the girl’s page before deciding not to match with her, because who’s Hinge bio states that they’re still in love with their ex? Dina cheers while you huff and slam your phone onto your desk, spinning idly in your chair. The television on top of Dina’s purple mini fridge is playing a random episode of Bob’s Burgers and, for a moment, you forget about your ever-growing dating app addiction.
It’s not that you’re addicted per say. You just spend most of your downtime sitting in your bed and judging people’s profiles, when yours surely isn’t up to par either. Hey, at least you don’t have a picture of you holding a fish.
The rhythmic buzz of your phone quickly draws your eyes away from the cartoon on screen, your hand dramatically reaching for your phone.
Hinge: Ellie liked you! Tap to see the comment she left.
Ellie. That’s a cute name…fairly normal too! Surely she didn’t leave some weirdo comment about how your hair looks like it smells good. Your fingers fumble to tap on the notification and you feel a blush rising to your cheeks as you click on Ellie’s like.
She left her comment under a picture of you taken at a local museum. A big cheesy grin is painted across your face and there’s skeletal remains of some random dinosaur behind you, Dina is crouched under the jaw of the creature pretending to scream while she gets eaten. Hopefully this isn’t one of those situations where Ellie asks ‘if your friend is single.’
Nope. She left a simple comment. I love dinosaurs!!!
You smile as you quickly click on Ellie’s profile to see her. There are a couple pictures of her, and good god is she hot. Flushed, you quickly match with her.
But what do you say? This is life or death. You need this woman. 
Hey!
You’re hot
Do you want to have vicious lesbian sex with me?
Okay. Jesus, you are not good at this. While you mull over the keyboard attempting to decide what to say to the ever-attractive Ellie, another message comes in.
Hey, pretty girl!
Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Your fingers are fumbling over the keyboard, your heart is beating, you’re planning you and Ellie’s wedding. You wonder if she likes lace or prefers the classic look?
Hey! What’s up?
Nothing really. Just playing some guitar!
Guitar? She just gets hotter. Did she also save puppies from a burning building? You wonder if she would want roses at the wedding. Hopefully not, too basic.
Ooooh guitar you say? Whatcha playing?
It’s a few moments before she responds and you’re biting the nail on your thumb awaiting her reply.
Whatever your favorite song is.
A heavy sigh escapes your lips as you smile and rest your head in your hand. 
Why don’t I tell you that over dinner?
It takes Ellie a few minutes to respond this time and you’re sure you’ve managed to scare her off at the mention of an actual date. Her reply comes just as you go to turn your phone off,
How about you give me your number and we can talk more about this date?
————
Giving your number to Ellie was perhaps the best decision made in your life thus far. She constantly sends text messages of whatever she’s doing, wearing, eating, or strumming on her guitar. It’s been about a week since you first exchanged information and you’re slightly worried that Ellie no longer wishes to go out on a date. You’ve tried to ‘accidentally’ bump into her on campus multiple times, but she manages to just barely slip away each time. 
You’re sitting at your desk attempting to finish an essay when your phone rings in your lap. Ellie’s contact appears lit up on the screen and you just about scream when you grasp the phone between your fingers.
“Hello?” You’re already blushing.
“Hey, you! What’re you up to?” Ellie’s voice is loud into the microphone and you can make out multiple different voices on her end of the line.
“Nothing important,” you close your computer quickly, “why, what’s up?”
She takes a moment to answer as you hear her yell something to whoever else is in the room with her, “me and some friends are at a bar…will you come? Live music and stuff. Plus, I still haven’t taken you on that date!”
“Yes!” Okay, you probably should’ve tried to sound less excited. “Ehem…yes. Text me the address?”
You hear Ellie laugh before she happily responds, “will do! Text me when you get here and I’ll come out front to meet you.”
—————
Dina and her friends surely shop at Hookers R Us because where else would anybody find a skirt so goddamn short. 
“D. Dina. My cheeks are hanging out the bottom.” Dina rolls her eyes and tugs on the hem of the mini denim skirt.
“Well if you wore it down here,” she tugs the denim again, “instead of up to your tits like a grandma would…maybe it would be longer.”
Several shirts are thrown toward your perch on Dina’s desk chair, “what’s wrong with the shirt I have on?”
Dina’s boyfriend. Jesse, interjects, “because I don’t like it.”
“Okay, fashion police. How about this one?” You hold up a form fitting black top and Dina nods vigorously, “yes. But no bra. Show off them ladies!”
————
The Uber barely comes to a full stop as you clamber out of the backseat. Grasping for your phone, you text Ellie.
Here! :)
Was the smiley face overkill? Too much?
Cominh!!!!!
*Coming. Not drunk, I swear.
You think you’re the one doing the coming as you watch Ellie stroll towards you in the parking lot. If she was hot on Hinge, she’s ten-thousand times hotter in the dingy lighting that casts a magical glow upon her. She’s wearing a pair of baggy jeans and a white wife-beater, an old worn out flannel is unbuttoned over the top and rolled up just above her elbows. Her raggedy jeans are cuffed to the top of her converse and— wow is she a walking wet dream.
“Hey! I’m glad you came.” She doesn’t wait for an answer as she pulls you straight in for a hug, her calloused hands resting on your hips. You feel her finger tips touching the uncovered skin below your top, the contact makes you shiver.
Ellie squeezes you a little tighter before pulling away, leaving her arm draped over your shoulder, “c’mon, warmer inside.”
You let her lead you into the bar and through the slight crowd congregated near the entrance. A small group of people stand huddled next to the bar and Ellie leads you straight to them as she leans down to speak in your ear, “those are my friends.”
You nod and shamelessly nudge your body to be tucked further into her side, blushing profusely when you feel her arm tighten around your shoulders.
“Guys, this is the girl I was telling you about! And these are my friends I mentioned on the phone.” Ellie smiles while she introduces you to everyone and as much as you enjoy the domesticity of hanging out with her friends, you much prefer the nook you’ve found nestled under Ellie’s toned arm.
———
Her face leans down by your ear again, “wanna drink? I’ll get you one.”
You smile up at her, “would you shoot me if I said I want an espresso martini instead of the beer you’ve been nursing all night?”
She giggles into your ear and her breath fans across your face, “one espresso martini, coming up!” 
She pulls away and salutes you before turning around and marching to the other end of the bar, waving her arm to grab the bartender’s attention.
“So you’re the lucky lady? I’m Abby, Ellie’s friend.” Damn, she is buff as hell. Her toned arm stretches across a barstool to shake your hand.
You stare at her open palm, “I’m sorry, I don’t know why I did that. Who still shakes hands? I’m done drinking for the night.”
She cracks a smile when you laugh and shake her hand anyways, “nothing wrong with a good ol’ handshake.”
You speak with Abby while you wait for Ellie to return with your martini. She’s leaning up against the wood and speaking to the bartender as he pours the concoction into a glass. How she manages to look so appealing at all times is an enigma. Her short hair is pulled half-up into a bun while the rest barely skims the top of her shoulders, the botanical tattoo on her forearm sticks out from under her rolled-up sleeve and—fuck. You’re drooling.
Double-fuck. She caught you staring.
You blush when she throws a wink your way, turning back toward the bar to grab your drink. 
And then she’s in front of you once more, “malady.”
She slides in between your legs while you sit atop the cushioned barstool (which you’re pretty sure makes a fart noise any time you move) and rests both of her hands on your hips.
Lifting the drink to your mouth, you hum happily when the flavor covers your tongue, “good?”
“Really good. Superb.” Ellie chuckles and leans in toward you, placing a kiss in the hollow of your collarbone, “c’mon, there’s some more people I want you to meet.”
————
You’re not exactly sure how you ended up in this position but good god do you wish you could die right here and right now. Ellie is leaning up against the poster-covered wall of the bar with you pulled tightly to her chest. Your back is pressed against her front and one of her arms is wrapped around you, long fingers splayed across your lower stomach. She’s talking animatedly to the guy standing in front of you two and in all honestly you can’t focus on what they’re talking about while you feel the tips of Ellie’s fingers rest upon the skin under your skirt. 
It’s innocent. She doesn’t realize her fingers have traveled just south of the top of your skirt, but you’d be lying if you said the feeling of her calloused fingertips below the belt didn’t make you squirm. Her auburn hair tickles the side of your face as your head rests back in the crook between her neck and shoulder. And even better—her cheek presses to the top of your head when there’s a lull in her current conversation.
Hearing the man she was speaking to bid his goodbyes, you turn in her arms. The one that was previously grasping a beer bottle quickly swaps to rest in the back pocket of your skirt instead, her other hand squeezes your hip.
“Hi.” She smiles at you.
“Hi.” You press a kiss to her cheek.
The feeling leaves Ellie warm and she squeezes you a few times before ultimately deciding to cut to the chase and lean in. It’s a sweet peck, a little tipsy kiss that leaves you buzzing and floating outside of your body. The bright, crooked smile she gives you after pulling away punches the air from your lungs and Jesus Christ— now you understand the U-Haul lesbians because in this moment you are well and truly fucked. If this woman, this stranger, asked you to pack your shit and move in, you would.
And the look she gives you as she brushes a stray piece of hair behind your ear tells you she might just feel the same.
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zyonsay · 10 months
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Be my Boyfriend OP81
Fem aligned people may read but not f3tishize my work!!
Summary: The morning after a night out you wake up with a certain someone in your bed
Reader: Male
Warnings: Smut, Unprotected sex (Wrap it before you tap it babes), Choking, Spit, Oscar in the wild, Beautiful brown eyes like a baby cow
Now playing: "Art Deco" by Lana del Rey
AN: I've written smut before but THIS feels like the first time I've written real smut.
Also i meant hickory as in the color hickory, not hickory wood. I am not stupid i swear! *falls to knees*
Can anyone tell that im obsessed with his eyes? I AM NORMAL I SWEAR *falls to knees again*
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Your head was aching badly, you had just woken up from your deep slumber after a long night out. The hangover was creeping up on you as you sat up on the bed. There was a man sleeping next to you. Wait. Theres a man sleeping next you-?
You risked a closer look and realized it was your friend Oscar, who you'd been sleeping around with recently. Thank God it wasn’t some random stranger. He was snoring quietly and looked peaceful, you decided to let him sleep a bit longer.
The floor was cold, and the sun hadn’t reached through the window yet, you carefully made your way down the stairs and into the kitchen. A hot cup of tea would surely make you feel a bit better. Just in case the sleeping man upstairs woke up, you heated enough water for two mugs. There were still a few dirty plates in the sink, so you decided to wash those and tidy up the kitchen.
Soon after you were greeted with two beautiful brown eyes. “Morning”, he was rubbing his eyes, and his soft hair was a mess. “Morning sunshine”, you chuckled while he tiredly walks down the stairs. Oscar groaned as his head hurt from the hangover. As soon as you two landed in your bed the day before, he was out like a light. Obviously not before you rearranged his guts though.
You fished out a pack of tablets from the cabinet and dissolved two tablets in a big cup of water. You offered Oscar the cup, which he eyed skeptically before drinking half of it. The medicine tastes awful, but you traded the glass for his mug and downed the rest of the disgusting liquid. Grabbing your own mug, you pulled Oscar towards the couch in the living room. You both quietly sat there, exchanging looks and taking occasional sips of your tea.
Once you were done, you placed the mugs on the coffee table. Oscar gently pulled you into his lap, holding you close. He felt warm and cozy, almost like your bed upstairs. You could’ve stayed like this forever, except… well. Oscar’s morning wood was pressing against you painfully. Feeling a bit cheeky you purposely grind against it, earning a low groan from the man in front of you.
He was now looking at you with a slight grin.
“Let me help you with that.” You carefully slid off the couch and knelt on the carpet in front of Oscars spread legs. His eyes observed you closely and only a small hint of tiredness was left in his expression. You carefully took off his shorts, appreciating his grey briefs. Offering him a mischievous look, you palm him through his underwear. Oscar groaned loudly at the contact, furrowing his brows while his face flushed.
You then pulled his boxers down, only enough for you to take his dick in your hand. “Fuck.”, he bit his lip at the feeling of your cold hands against his member. His stunning eyes were closed, and you took the opportunity to take him into your mouth. Oscar moaned loudly at the wet feeling, throwing back his head.
You swirled your tongue around the tip of his cock while jerking the rest. The scene before you was one you’d love to have on a polaroid picture. Oscar spreading his legs, trembling with pleasure and his head tipped back while begging for more.
Pushing his dick further into your mouth you gagged as it hit the back of your throat. He looked down at you with a flushed expression, sliding a hand into your curls and gently pushing his cock fully into your wet, warm mouth. You began bobbing up and down, enjoying the sight in front of you. He tasted slightly salty, slightly sweet but most importantly perfect.
You knelt there, your hands roaming his thighs, occasionally giving them a light squeeze. His body tensed and relaxed in a comfortable rhythm while you did your best to bring him pleasure. Oscar was a nice guy. He was more than that, he was the perfect guy. You'd known him for a long time now, though only recently you two agreed to hook up from time to time. Promising yourself to not catch any feelings was pointless, and you knew it from the start.
Oscar was a moaning mess by now and rambled on about how good it feels and how close he is. A sweet, tight feeling had coiled in his stomach. His body began tensing up and only a few moments later thick white ropes of cum shot down your throat, you weren’t going to waste a single drop. The feeling of your swallowing closing around his cock had Oscar moaning even louder.
After sucking him off, you collected yourself and straddled the heavily breathing man on your couch. “Take this off”, he tugged at your shirt. You did as you were told, meanwhile Oscar got rid of his own t shirt. He ran his hands over your bare chest, playing teasingly with your nipples.
You reached behind him and gave his ass a firm squeeze, before kissing his neck. As much as he likes the dominant you, today he had other plans. He pushed you backwards, making you gasp. He smiles at you smugly, before kissing and nibbling your neck, while one of his hands went under your shorts to caress your thighs. You groaned and mumbled under him, enjoying the attention. Your own hardness was now pressing against Oscar’s stomach as he was leaning over you. His body was the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen, you couldn’t resist touching him. He moans softly, the feel of your hands is like heaven to him.
His lips moved along your neck to leave the occasional hickey, while he shifted his free hand to your inner thigh, massaging the soft spot there. “Feel good?”, you nod eagerly while he grins at you. His sweet lips felt like velvet to your skin, you could melt right there and then. Oscar reached for the waistband of your shorts before whispering: “Can I take care of you?”, you struggle to form words and just let out a loud whine. “Words, darling.”, groaning you muster up a weak ‘please’, which appeased Oscar.
He then gently lifted your legs, taking off the last pieces of clothing covering you, now leaving you sprawled out bare in front of him. Oscar carefully took your dick into his hand, then licked a long stripe up your length. Your breaths felt heavy and warm, you gripped Oscars shoulder. He slowly took in all of your length, sucking in all the right ways. He held onto your hips and caressed them softly while humming. The vibrations made you shudder and tense.
He reached up and tapped your mouth with two of his fingers, wanting you to wet them for him. You gladly sucked on them, coating them generously with saliva as you whined. Oscar then retracted his fingers again, making you pout at the loss. But that quickly turned into gasps as he slowly pushed them into your greedy hole, making scissoring motions. Squirming and whining filled the living room, heating the atmosphere. His raspberry lips looked so perfect around your cock and his soft, longing touches lit a fire in you.
Oscar decided to add another finger, making you whine at how well he was stretching you. His big brown eyes searched yours, his deep gaze looking right into your soul. You could get lost in those beautiful hickory colored pools.
With the pace of his fingers and his mouth, the cord inside you strained until it snapped and you were swallowed by pleasure. Cum splattered all over Oscar’s face. He smiled smugly as he wiped it off his face and put it in his mouth, savoring your taste.
Now it was your turn to push him over; you gently laid your hand on his chest while he gave you a questioning look, wondering what you'd do next
You slowly sunk down on his cock and winced at the full feeling. He didn’t give you any time to adjust as he already began thrusting up into you at a brutal pace. He made sure to watch every little shift in your expression.
Your body was shaking, but you managed to whisper: “Let me ride you.” Oscar smirked at your request, halting his movements. His hands found their way onto your hips as you bounced on his dick. You leaned down while keeping up your pace and pressed a hasty kiss to his forehead. ‘Feels so fucking good.’
Oscar smiled sweetly, almost innocently, but the next moment he has his hand wrapped around your throat, pressing tightly. He began fucking into you again, making you spill curses and moans. Of course, he was a very loving person but when it came to bedroom activities he seemed almost merciless.
There was a warm feeling pooling in your stomach again, indicating your incoming climax. With his other hand, Oscar took your dick in his hand and began pumping it. Another intent, deep look from him made you feel even warmer than you already did.
Your second orgasm hit you like a freight train. You clenching around his cock had Oscar seeing stars as he came in you. Hard.
Both of you were a sweaty, panting mess, his cock still inside you while you ride off your high.
He grabbed your chin and pulled you into a sweet kiss. Oscar looks at you intently.
“Do you want to be my boyfriend?”
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sturniolo04 · 2 months
Text
Boys Trip
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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.
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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.
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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".
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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
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crow-ur-beloved · 2 months
Text
various jrwi headcanons because the worms in my brain (potential autism) wont shut up. no real plot spoilers except for one, but its marked :]
the suckening:
shilo is like vampire immunocompromised, which added to the pile of reasons his mom used to keep him inside the castle because she didnt want him to immediately get 37 different diseases and Die. (if vampires can have allergies then id like to think they can also get sick. i dont actually know if thats possible in the vtm system but i dont care they can in my heart)
genderfuck/genderpunk afab emizel. i feel like thats the only label he'd use, if he had to have one. i dont think hed label his sexuality because he wants to be an enigma. but he Definitely likes men.
bizley said in the qna something that can Only let me think of shilo as aromantic. maybe aro And ace... i dont remember what he said exactly aughhgh i wish i did...
shilo fidgets with his hands like all the time. his mother and uncle tried to get him to stop and sit still because it wasnt very princely and whatnot but my boy needs a fidget toy. i think hed go craaaazy with an infinity cube
i feel like me saying arthur bennett is a bisexual doesnt even count as a headcanon like i think thats just a given. i feel like itd be more surprising if i said i thought he was straight. all beautiful beautiful vampire men have to be lgbtq. its the law actually
arthur never officially broke up with mary. mans just Left one day without warning. probably left a note that said "sorry. -arthur" on it. i doubt he had it in him to say goodbye to her face or his reasoning for it (he thought hed inevitably hurt her because of what he is and what he did to the people he loved in the past, because bad luck seems to follow him everywhere... oughh he makes me ill). he definitely used finding a new lead on anya somewhere else in the country as a good reason to dip. at least, as good a reason as it couldve been for him.
maybe controversial but i 100% think arthur and magnus had a one-night stand at the beginning of their relationship, before magnus met jerome, and they never talked about it again and pretend it never happened. cannot explain how real this is to me.
riptide:
ftm chip who 100% innately knew he was a dude since the moment he could think. like when the black rose pirates picked him up, he got confused when they started referring to him as a girl at first. probably never got The Talk from them, so was Very confused when he hit puberty. Reuben reluctantly helped him steal to pay for top surgery.
since tritons live at the bottom of the ocean, they would have eyes that are far more sensitive to light to allow them to see better since little light gets all the way down there. gillion was Immediately blinded by the sun when he surfaced and still gets headaches from how bright it is in the oversea, but they've gotten better the longer he's been up there. tritons are built to adapt to all kinds of conditions, so his eyes have slowly been getting a darker bluish-purple the longer he spends above the ocean; they were originally more of a light blue-grey.
in tandem with the last one, chip thinks hes either going crazy or a bad friend because he Swears gill's eyecolor is different than last week but how could that be possible, thats not just something he can do, right? why would he be able to do that???
if gillion gets knocked onto his back without warning he does that thing that sharks do where they get paralyzed for a bit when they get flipped upside down. its scary because he can see everything but cant do anything. he also definitely forgot to tell chip and jay about this fact and scared the Shit out of them the first time it happened around them.
gillion can also change his sex like some fish can. its the reason he can lay eggs. i think this makes it safe to say genderfluid/nonbinary/generally trans gillion tidestrider is highly possible and even probable in this headcanon. what im saying is t4t fish n chips.
not to headcanon all my favs as trans but i cant help it. it is the highest honor i can bestow upon them. anyways. mtf jay ferin. ava always knew and was the first person jay came out to. jay was also 100% named jayson after her father and went by jay most of her life anyway as a nickname and just decided to stick with it instead of picking anything else. may was always very openly-supportive of her. jayson was as supportive as a generally strict, overbearing, unsupportive-in-everything father can be. jay totally came out to him and the first thing he said to her was something like, "as long as it doesnt interfere with your navy training," and may promptly kicked him under the table and made him say something nice.
kiras trans too btw. she came out before jay and helped jay discover she was trans. and that she liked women.
(spoilers for 109 and beyond) chip can't entirely remember what he looks like. everytime he focuses on the illusion of hiding that hes practically just a skeleton now, it changes just a bit. freckles in the wrong places, the wrong shade of orange for his flame tattoos, too much light in his eyes, too much muscle on his arms. jay notices it but cant bring herself to say anything. she knows the illusion is meant to keep everyone from worrying, but, everytime she sees something off about it, she just remembers what he really looks like underneath, and that somehow feels worse.
blood in the bayou:
all these bitches gay as hell. kian is pan. rands got a lot of internalized homophobia. rolan probably too. its the 80s, man.
apotheosis (haven't finished it yet so idk how true these'll be lol):
agender rumi. godbless.
also rumis a theater kid. he got the lead in every musical he auditioned for because he could literally just shapeshift. theyd make up a new identity and appearance for every role and get to know everyone on the cast and then mysteriously drop off the face of the planet as that person when the production was over and nobody would know it was them.
peter has actually tried All Kinds of things. weed. yoga. multilevel marketing schemes. you name it, big chance hes done it at least once and didnt like it. he doesnt know how he ends up in the situations to try it, either.
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