#in this au these four had a foursome probably

[evita-shelby]

Birds of a Feather

After the chaos that ensued following Tommy’s sudden elopement with his own brother’s lover, the new couple find themselves in America and in company of Tommy’s new associates, the Nelsons of South Boston.

Perhaps Gina Nelson marrying Michael Gray won’t be so bad when Jack and Eva Nelson are cut from the same cloth as Tommy and Heaven Shelby.

A Tommy Shelby x Heaven Lavey ft Jack Nelson x Eva Smith moodboard for @call-sign-shark

[cyberdragoninfinity]

Howdy! I got a question about le Pizza AU: what was Paradox and Bruno's dads like when they were alive? :O This has been on my mind for a long while!

YES oh this is a great question, been itching for an excuse to talk about the Pizza AU College Polycule

SO for the purposes of the AU, Bruno's dad (Johnny) and Paradox's dad (Malcolm) are both sort of the equivalent of the "original" human PDox and Antinomy in the 5D's timeline, so that's a fun space to think about and play around in.

Johnny Borrelli was just this vibrant, endlessly enthusiastic guy, so fun to be around, really kind of an emotional core of the Iliaster polycule imo. Huge fan of cooking and formula 1 racing, just kind of this big friendly jock, and a really sweet dad too ;___; idk if he was actually in college like the other 3 Stars or just hung around campus while working at an auto shop and trying to pursue a professional racing career (to middling success.) I think he and Zone met in high school and that's the catalyst to everything.

Malcolm Sinclair (lmao) was a more subdued, bookish kind of guy and probably a little bit of a weirdo (slash pos.) He majored in Physics and before he died he was working a pretty decent researcher job at a lab in town. Bit of an absent-minded professor type, quiet but quick-witted and hard-working, big fondness for museums and sci-fi and time travel fiction (which definitely rubbed off on Paradox as a child, beheheheh). He met Zone because they had a shared course or two in the same part of campus and hit it off.

Their presence definitely helped balance out the Iliaster foursome and their Collective Weirdguy Magnetic Field. I think both of 'em, Malcolm especially, helped Aporia feel welcome into the group, being a latecomer and all (and also like. the youngest of the four dfshghfg he's their pet college freshman he does tricks)

i like them sooooo much 🥺

[underthetree845]

How to Say "I love you"

Chapter Four: The Stars in Your Eyes

Chapter Index

Armin/Reader

Cws: AFAB reader, Reader is Eren's twin sister, modern high school au, getting lost

About 7.4k words

Summary: Armin and Reader continue to follow Hannah and Franz on their date, and are thrown into a situation neither of them could have ever dreamed of. 

The only quality time you really ever spent with Armin was at the bookstore. Since he first brought you there when you were twelve, the rest of your friends hadn’t really shown much interest. If they did, Armin would usually try to divert the conversation or come up with some excuse as to why he couldn’t bring them there that particular day and suggest a different location. If anyone questioned where you two sometimes disappeared to, he would just say you were going to study or read at the local library, since it was unlikely that any of them would follow you there anyway. It wasn’t to be a gatekeeper or anything, he just felt a certain need to preserve the hidden little part of the world you two shared. Sure, it was a public bookstore, literally anyone could walk in at any time, but in a way, it felt like a safe haven. You made an effort to go there with Armin frequently, and had even managed to make friends with the owner. His name was Louis, and he was quite old. He looked to be around the age of Armin’s grandfather. It was strange, both men got the same glint in their eyes when they looked between Armin and yourself. 

Those aisles, dusty wooden shelves, hand-woven rugs, that old-fashioned cash register, you could probably paint a picture of it just from memory. Even if the bookstore did close down one day, you knew it would always hold a very special place in your heart. 

Outside of that bookstore, sure, you would talk to Armin when you sat next to each other in class or occasionally drop by his place to return a book or visit briefly, but outside of that, Eren and Mikasa were almost always a part of the group. Not that you minded your little foursome, it was quite nice to have a close circle of friends that you trusted so deeply, but you sometimes found yourself wanting to spend time with Armin and only Armin. Were there things he ever held back from saying because of the presence of your brother or Mikasa? Did he ever want the same thing? 

-

Those were the thoughts that fluttered around your mind as you strode next to the boy, glancing over at him every so often and keeping a safe distance from your target. 

You had to take a selfie sometime today, no way you were passing up the opportunity to capture Armin in a bucket hat. Where did he even get it? 

“Looks like they just got their ice cream,” Armin voiced, eyes trailing the couple in front of him, “and they’re stopping to sit at that park bench.” You nodded, observing the situation quietly as your pace slowly came to a halt. 

“That means their date is almost over,” you whispered, your heart sinking ever so slightly. You didn’t want it to end quite yet. Although it was selfish, part of the reason you were happy about Hannah and Franz’s date was because you got to spend so much time with Armin. “He seems really into it, make the evening memorable!” you messaged Hannah quickly before tucking your phone back into your pocket. 

“Y/n…” Armin began softly. You looked over and noticed that his gaze was placed longingly on the ice cream stand. 

“Yes, Armin?” you questioned, a fond smile growing on your lips at his shyness. 

“Um… I…” he mumbled. Armin looked down at his hands with pursed lips, fidgeting his fingers around themselves. 

“Do you want to get some ice cream?” you suggested, taking one of Armin’s hands in yours in an effort to ease his nervous habit. 

“Well, only if you want to,” he replied. A fuzzy feeling grew in his chest at the unspoken intimacy of his hand in yours. You’d done it many times before, it was a special little gesture that he associated with you. No matter how much it made his heart flutter, it also made him feel safe, reassured. 

“Well, I do,” you said, bringing your hood over your head and taking a step forward. 

Now that you knew both Hannah and Franz had each asked one of their friends to follow them, you and Armin had little reason to worry about one of them calling you out. 

You both lowered your facemasks once you reached the stand, eyes widening at each tempting option on the menu. The place had quite the variety for being a small little ice cream shop at the edge of a park. You’d never actually been there yourself, but the amount of times Sasha had recommended it to you was getting ridiculous. She'd be happy to hear you'd finally gone.  

“So which flavor do you want?” Armin questioned, turning to glance at you as your eyes scanned over the text. 

“Hmm, probably a double scoop of this one,” you replied with a point. “What about you?” 

Before Armin could answer, the man inside the little shop took notice of the customers at his window and strode over with a wide grin. 

“Hello there kids!” the man huffed, “What can I do you for?” He looked to be about middle-aged, there were a few pictures of some kids taped to the back wall. His hair was black and curly, a few gray streaks coming from the side. He had a scruffy beard and joyful eyes, an apron tied to the front of his wide frame. For a moment you couldn’t help but wish you had an ice cream vendor for a father instead of a doctor. 

“I’ll take a double scoop of this please, Sir,” you said with a polite smile, pointing to the flavor on the menu. 

“Cone or cup?” the man asked. 

“Cone please,” you replied, and he set to work with his scooper. 

“And for you, lad?” the man questioned, glancing up at Armin with a friendly smile. 

“Oh, um… could I please have one scoop of strawberry and one scoop of coconut in a cone, please?” the boy asked, a slightly anxious smile on his face. You gave his hand a squeeze and he glanced at you with a thankful expression. 

“Of course,” the man smiled, “there you go, and there you go.” He handed you both your orders and rung up the total. This time, it was your turn to surprise Armin by handing over the money. 

“Y/n! I can pay for my own,” Armin pouted, and you had to stop yourself from squealing at how cute his bottom lip looked jutted out like that. 

“Oh please, you paid for dinner. At least let me do this. Please, Armin?” you insisted, giving him the best puppy dog eyes you could muster. 

God. Not that look. It made him weak every time. Armin felt his heart rate increase and had to look away for a moment. You were too cute for words, he couldn’t help but give in. 

“Okay…” he trailed off, slightly flustered, “thank you.” 

“Mhm!” you hummed, handing the money over to the man and having a taste of your treat. 

“I’ve been seeing so many young couples lately,” the man sighed, looking down thoughtfully as he wiped the counter with a rag. He wore a slight grin on his lips, his voice wistful. 

“O-oh no! We’re not-” Armin stammered, a slight tint coming to his cheeks. 

“He’s not my boyfriend!” you chuckled nervously. A small part of your heart felt stabbed at the reminder of what you’d always known. “Oh, I see, my mistake then,” the man replied with a slight bow of his head. “Either way, you two seem to get along very well, and I hope you have a nice evening.” 

You and Armin both voiced your thanks as you walked off, still half-flustered by his assumption. You could have sworn you heard the man chuckle when he thought you were out of earshot.

-

“They’re getting up,” you noticed, watching as Hannah and Franz rose from their park bench smiling and laughing to each other. You wondered if they would become an official couple after this date. Would they tell their friends or keep it a secret? If they didn’t want anyone to know for the time being, you were more than willing to seal your lips, and you knew Armin wasn’t the type to expose their secret either. 

First of all, Armin was just a trustworthy, good-natured person in general. That was something you’d picked up soon after meeting him. Second of all, the two of you already kept quite a few secrets between each other that not even Eren and Mikasa knew about. 

For starters, the bookstore was one of them. It was the perfect little hideaway that the two of you could always count on to escape to. 

You knew about the secret note tucked in the back of Armin’s book, the one from his parents. 

You knew the secret ingredient to Armin’s grandfather’s marvelous stuffed sourdough recipe, although that was more like a secret between the three of you. 

You knew that Armin had never really gotten over his fear of the dark. He would always squeeze your hand a little tighter or walk a little closer whenever you turned into a dark street at night, which to be honest made you feel safer too.

He didn’t cling to your nightshirt like he did when you were kids, which you enjoyed profusely teasing him for, but he still preferred to have a salt lamp on his desk or a wall plug-in nightlight to illuminate the way. Armin just felt uneasy at not being able to see what could be there. He was embarrassed, but you found it endearing. 

He knew plenty of your secrets too; like the reason your mother couldn’t find her green dress shoes for your cousin’s wedding that day (they were buried in the muddy part of the woods out back). In fact, they probably still were to this day.

He knew that you’d kept a small collection of rocks and seashells in a sewing box underneath your bed because Eren would make fun of you for it. 

He knew that you’d always fall asleep the fastest if someone ran their fingers through your hair while you dozed off, although he wasn’t sure if you knew that one yourself. 

On a deeper level, you and Armin shared things that weren’t what you’d call secrets, but things that came with an unspoken promise to not talk about with just anyone. 

You shared each other’s thoughts, guilts, anxieties, sorrows, joys; you confided in each other. It was like an invisible force pulling you in. The way his cerulean eyes stared back into yours, tinted with trust and compassion, made it impossible not to want to open up to the boy. It was almost like Armin had become a part of you. He felt the exact same way. 

-

“Wait, isn’t the bus stop the other way?” you tilted your head, eyes following Hannah and Franz as they began to stroll in a direction that definitely wasn’t the way to the bus stop that would take them home. 

“Maybe they’re taking the long way?” Armin squinted his eyes. Surely Hannah and Franz would have told you if they’d planned to go to a third location, right? 

Just then, both of your phones vibrated and you each dug around in your pockets to read the message. 

“Just going on a quick little walk, it won’t be long, you can wait there! <3” the message from Hannah said. 

“This will be fast, we’re just going on a walk. Best if you wait there since there aren’t any other people in this area, it would be obvious if we were being followed.” Franz typed. 

You and Armin looked at each other for a moment, contemplating the unexpected situation. “So I guess we just wait here?” Armin asked, replying to Franz’s message and slipping his phone back into his pocket.

"I guess so,” you replied, doing the same and leaning back on the bench you were seated at. 

-

The orange and pink swirls of the sky slowly faded into a dim blue, and before you knew it, the sun had almost completely set. Minutes passed like hours as you awaited Hannah and Franz’s return. 

“Do you think they got lost?” Armin turned to you anxiously. His arms were crossed and his leg had been bouncing for the last seven minutes. He was definitely worried. You wondered if he’d worry about you like that if you got lost. 

“Everyone who lives in Paradis knows this park like the back of their hand though, how could they be lost?” you replied, your worry bleeding through the feigned smile you had placed on your face. Armin frowned at this. He didn’t want you to try to hide your emotions just to make him feel better. 

You both decided to message Hannah and Franz just to make sure they were okay. You at least wanted to see them get on the bus to go home, it had been over twenty minutes since they disappeared between the trees. 

After another five minutes of no reply, you shot up from your seat and balled your hand into a fist over your chest. 

“That’s it, I’m going to look for them,” you declared, slinging your small backpack over your shoulder. Armin stood up next to you and placed a hand on your shoulder. 

“But Y/n, what if they come back and we’re not here?” he protested. 

“And if they don’t come back? What if something happened to them?” you insisted, your brows furrowed as you stared at the ground in front of you. 

“I don’t want you wandering the park alone at night,” Armin’s tone was firmer than you expected. 

“So come with me,” you placed a hand on top of the one he placed on your shoulder and you heard his breath stutter nervously. His eyes bore into yours as he mentally contemplated the idea before letting out a sigh. 

“Okay, but if we don’t find them in under a half hour, and they don’t message us, then we come back and tell someone so they can help us find them,” Armin exhaled, removing his hand from your shoulder. 

“Okay!” you grinned, taking a step forward and pulling the boy along, “Thank you, Armin.” 

-

Every crossroad you came to looked exactly the same, and the trees only seemed to get closer and closer together. Your hope of finding Hannah and Franz quickly slowly faded, as did the last bits of daylight in the sky, and now you had a completely new problem to deal with. 

“So how many times have you been through this park to say that ‘Everyone in Paradis knows it like the back of their hand?’” Armin questioned, his tone laced with irony. 

“Apparently, not enough,” you sighed in defeat, turning a corner only to be faced with the same rock you had left a third pencil mark on ten minutes ago. “This is getting us nowhere,” you groaned, crouching down and resting your forehead on your palms. 

“Don’t worry too much, we’re bound to make it out eventually,” Armin tried to reassure with a gentle smile as he took a pencil from his bag and added another hashmark to the rock. It seemed to taunt you. 

“Is your phone still not showing any service?” you asked, checking your own phone screen before slipping it back into your pocket. Your worry had subsided as much as it had grown when you found that you had lost cell service. That was likely the reason Hannah and Franz hadn’t been replying to you before; their phones weren’t receiving anything. 

“Unfortunately,” Armin sighed. He stood up and looked at your curled up form on the ground. “Hey, really quick, why don’t we change our voicemails to say that we’re lost in Fritz Park so that if anyone calls us, they’ll know where we are?” he suggested gently, placing a hand on your shoulder. 

“Oh! Great idea!” you popped up from your seat. Armin was happy to see that hopeful glint back in your eyes. “How did you know to do that?” 

“Just reading online,” the blonde replied, not being able to help the small smile that tugged on his lips. He was happy to be able to impress you, at least a little. 

-

After a little while longer of wandering along the path, it seemed you two had taken at least one correct turn, because this time, after rounding the third corner, instead of the rock, you were met with a cobblestone plaza of some sort. 

There were four street lamps in each corner, a small kiosk with two vending machines, and little green weeds growing between the gray stones. There were six brown benches total, four on each side and two in the middle back to back. The trees seemed to create a sort of barrier around the square, only parting to mark the beginning of more paths. 

“I think I have enough left for one water, at least,” you voiced, strolling up to the vending machine and opening your wallet. Both you and Armin had chugged your bottles after roller skating earlier, and not bothered to buy new ones. To be fair, you didn't think acquiring more would be this much of an issue.

Armin watched from behind as you slipped the coins into the vending machine, the glow of the cold light from inside illuminating you with a hazy glow. The machine was old, it whirred as it ran and the bottle landed at the bottom with a thump. The little metal flap squeaked as you swung it and reached your hand in, feeling the cool plastic hit your fingertips. You cracked the lid open and tilted your head back as you allowed the refreshing liquid to flow into your mouth. You closed your eyes with a sigh. It’s probably close to eight by now… you thought, estimating based on the last time you checked your phone, someone is bound to look for us soon. I told mom I’d be back a little after dark, but I didn’t tell her where I was going specifically. I hope she calls me. 

You opened your eyes again and removed the bottle from your lips. After screwing the cap back on, you were about to throw it in your bag before you noticed Armin closing his wallet and putting it away with a dejected sigh. 

“Hey, aren’t you going to buy water?” you questioned, tilting your head as you looked at him. 

“I don’t have enough…” he trailed off, zipping his bag closed and looking up at you. Your heart panged. If he hadn’t gone out of his way to pay for your dinner, this wouldn’t have happened. 

“Here, you can finish mine,” you offered, reaching the bottle out without a moment of hesitation. 

“What? I can’t do that,” Armin refused, feeling his heart suddenly hammering harder.

“Of course you can. Come on, you need to drink something,” you insisted, pushing the bottle into his chest. Huh? Why are his cheeks going red? you wondered. 

He hesitantly took the bottle from your hand and twisted the cap off. It was only when his plush pink lips made contact with the rim of the bottle that you realized why he seemed so flustered earlier. 

D-did I really just… your mind stuttered as you took a half step back, make him indirectly kiss me?! 

You felt your cheeks bloom with heat while your veins ran cold. It was like your thoughts were stuck, replaying the same moment over and over. Your haze only lasted for a moment longer before you blinked and shook your head. 

Come on, what are you, a child?? All you did was share a water bottle. Even if it does classify as an indirect kiss, it was completely necessary to our survival! you took a deep breath and prayed that Armin wouldn’t be able to read through your expression. 

“H-here,” he said meekly, handing the bottle back and making an effort to avoid your eyes. He left a little bit at the bottom, how considerate. You wordlessly took the bottle from his hands and slipped it into your bag, fumbling for a moment before looking up at Armin again. The silence was deafening. 

Armin’s cheeks burned as he looked at the ground. 

Why am I making this weird? I was going to say something… what was it? his brain raced a mile a minute. You were going to die if this lasted much longer. 

“Oh yeah! I-I had an idea!” Armin stammered, snapping his head up, a shaky smile on his lips. 

“Great! Tell me,” you replied. The relief washed over you like a cool wave on your skin. 

“Well, s-since it’s the trees that are blocking our signal, I figured if we reached a point of higher ground, some calls and messages might go through,” your heart jumped with hope at the idea, and he spoke as if it wasn’t the most flawlessly ingenious solution to your problem anyone could think of. “We might even be able to find an online map of the park.” 

Armin had always been able to do that, give you hope. Even when it was you picking him up off the ground, his unwavering spirit, even if you had to polish it sometimes, is what always made you believe that you could keep moving forward. 

He made you believe that there was something in this world worth living for, beyond just doing it for other people. Living to be by Armin’s side was motivation in itself, but he had shown you possibilities you would have never even considered before. 

Armin had grabbed your hand and taken a leap into the pages of his books. He told you about cultures from around the world; thriving ones, dying ones, the ones in the little corners of the maps that no one could see. He told you rich stories of history, you looked forward to whatever new history fact he had to share on Tuesdays, the day after his weekly museum subscription email was sent out. 

There was a period in your life, sometime last year probably, that you took an interest in astronomy; the study of the stars. Around the same time, "coincidentally," you began to notice books on constellations and star maps in Armin’s bookbag and scattered around his room. Your heart fluttered whenever he made the effort to share some of the information he just “happened” to pick up recently, or when he passed you little folded notes in class with tidbits of knowledge on the subject. You were touched by the amount of effort he had put into learning more about a topic you were interested in. In fact, you still sometimes received messages whenever Armin came across a new astronomy fact once in a while. 

Armin liked it because it reminded him of you. 

His eyes always sparkled the brightest when he got to tell you about the sea. “A huge lake filled with so much salt that merchants could spend their entire lives and still not collect it all.” Sure, you had been there a few times before, but the opportunity came rare with the flow of your life and the distance it took to reach the shore. 

Armin fuelled your curiosity for what the world had to offer. He made you want to try things, experience things, and you wanted to do it all with him. 

He made you dream. 

-

The burning in your legs grew less bearable with each step you took. You wanted nothing more than to find the nearest rock, plop yourself down, and never move again. Armin’s voice was the only thing that kept you going. 

“We’re almost there, I swear. I’m sorry it’s taking so long, Y/n,” he huffed slightly, taking another determined step uphill. 

“Don’t worry about it, I’m good,” you exhaled, and internally cringed at how obvious your lie was. Would you have to spend the night here? Were Hannah and Franz okay? You were tired, your feet hurt, your hair was a mess, and you were practically wandering through the park at night with no cell service and nothing but Armin’s phone flashlight to light your way. You wondered if anyone was looking for the two of you yet. 

Okay no! you thought to yourself, Stay optimistic! We’ll be fine. We changed our voicemails and chances are that we’re likely to get cell service when we get far enough up. Probably. I trust Armin. 

“My parents used to take me here,” he stated, a reminiscent tone in his voice, and your ears perked up. His parents? Armin didn’t talk about them often, he always said he didn’t have many memories from when they were alive, which was believable because he was pretty young when they passed away. “There’s a really pretty view,” he said quietly, turning off his phone light as you stepped out into a clearing. 

“What vie-” you were cut short when it felt like the breath had been whisked from your lungs. Armin didn’t even need to point out the view in front of you, or rather above you; it was too spectacular not to notice. 

A simple “Wow” dropped from your lips as your footsteps slowed and you soon stood in the middle of the grassy clearing. Your eyes felt glued to the sky, afraid that if you looked away for one second, it would all disappear in a single moment. 

Your knowledge of astronomy bubbled to the surface, and you found yourself drawing constellations with your eyes. Shiho, Dragon’s Tail… the Crane… Pleiades… huh. I remember more than I would have guessed, you thought as you studied the twinkling lights above you. 

It seemed like the longer you stared, the more stars appeared in between the ones you had been previously staring at. You had seen starry nights before, but never like this. 

Armin had been silent since you made it to the top, and you looked over to see him gazing at the stars, lost in his own thoughts. He said his parents used to take him here. You wished you could’ve met Mr. and Mrs. Arlert, just once, to see what kind of people had brought such a wonderful boy into the world. You wanted to see what Armin was like when his parents took him here. 

Maybe that’s what was bothering him. 

“Hey, ah…” you said quietly. The silence felt wrong to break. “Wanna check for cell service?” you suggested, pointing to your phone as you took it out of your pocket. 

Armin’s eyelids fluttered for a moment before he understood what you were saying. 

“O-oh! Yeah, let’s do that,” he agreed, bringing his phone to his face and tapping the screen on. 

As you were checking your connection, you looked ahead of where you stood and were surprised to find that you were on the edge of a cliff. Its rocky side led down to another field, where a few mountains were visible in the distance. 

“I didn’t know this park was right on the edge of town,” you expressed, letting your hand fall to your side as you took a step closer to the edge. 

“Yeah, it is,” Armin said as a small smile pulled on the corners of his lips, “This is also a really good place to watch the sunset.” 

“Hmm, we’ll have to come back then,” you replied, and noticed as Armin twitched his eyebrow. “With a map, though,” you added, and Armin let out a chuckle. Watching the sunset here with Armin would be dreamy. If you’d decided to search for Hannah and Franz a little bit earlier, maybe you would’ve gotten to. “Hey, I’ve seen a view almost like this before, don’t they set up the summer festival somewhere close to this side of Shiganshina?” you asked as your eyes scanned the distance. 

“Mhm,” Armin nodded, stepping up to stand beside you, “it’s held in the area just left of here, good eye.” 

“Thanks,” your shoulders raised a bit at his praise. Honestly, to you, him knowing the fact was even more impressive. He’d probably be wonderful at Jeopardy. “I’m looking forward to your grandfather’s booth this year. Any new recipes?” 

“You know he likes to keep it traditional,” Armin sighed with a light smile, “I’m also looking forward to it.” You grinned, not being able to help feeling giddy at the feeling of familiarity between you two. You had developed a level of friendship that could only be reached through the many years of life you both shared together. 

Even if it hadn’t exactly been planned, or gone to plan, you were happy to have spent an entire evening with Armin. You were flattered that he bought you dinner, running into him was certainly an unexpectedly pleasant surprise, especially given the circumstances. Hiding in the back corner behind the wall made you feel close to Armin. You felt special, hiding together, sharing a secret that no one else knew. Roller skating was fun, he looked so cute wearing skates, and you loved when he would stumble and grip onto your arm for support before pulling his hand back with a bashful smile. 

Everything seemed so easy with him. Laughing, sharing a meal, trekking through the forest late at night, talking, even to the point when you said things you didn’t even realize had slipped out before Armin was already reacting. 

You were able to repay your roller rink dinner debt by covering the ice cream, which to be honest you would have been happy to do with or without being in debt to the blue-eyed boy. 

Thankfully, paying for the ice cream didn’t put you out enough to not be able to afford a water bottle, but it was just enough that that’s exactly what you could afford; one. The image of Armin’s soft lips pressing against the bottle right after yours had been permanently imprinted in your mind. 

You looked to your left and found that Armin had taken his bucket hat off and was currently stuffing it in his bag. It had been part of his previous disguise, but now it had probably just been making his head hot. 

The moonlight reflected nicely off his blonde hair, it stood out an awful lot at this time, when everything else was dark in contrast. 

“Were you not getting any cell service either?” Armin asked, zipping up his bag and letting it slide off his shoulder onto the wispy grass under your feet. 

“No luck,” you sighed, doing the same and looking around. “Do you think we’re going to have to sleep here?” 

Armin pressed his lips into a line and gave your surroundings a once-over before focusing back in your direction. 

“Hopefully not,” he concluded, “maybe if we stay up here a while longer our phones will connect and we can call our families for help.” Although you could’ve said the same thing yourself, hearing it come from Armin did comfort you a little. 

Without cell service, you could still call the police, but your town didn’t exactly have the most prestigious law-enforcement system; everyone knew it. You weren’t likely to get an answer from the SPD (Shiganshina Police Department) this late at night, Chief Roeg was usually too occupied lighting a smoke out back to be bothered with the phone. Marlowe had told you himself that his internship at the police department had led him to be disappointed in their lack of conduct. 

Contacting the big city police wouldn’t do you much good; they would have trouble getting the SPD into action too, and if they did send some of their own officers and dogs to find you, it would take them quite a while to even reach the park, in which case you and Armin would have to sleep here anyway. Plus they’d be unfamiliar with the area. 

Honestly, waiting to call your families or the local park rangers was the best bet. 

“Then let’s wait,” you stated, bending your knees and allowing yourself to fall back into the grass. It was just as soft as it looked; if you stayed like that too long, you might actually fall asleep. 

You felt Armin stare for a moment before tentatively lowering himself next to you and resting his hands by his sides with his palms up, eyes up facing the same way. 

He was your golden boy, and as brilliant as he looked on a bright sunny day, with the sun shining through his hair, in his eyes, and radiating off his smile, you had always thought the night made his features stand out more. 

The soft white light from the moon lit him up in an almost ethereal glow. His skin seemed velvety and smooth. His hair looked so soft, especially with that gentle breeze blowing through it. Armin’s expression was content, peaceful. His rosy cheeks and pink lips added a certain layer of warmth to his face, all the more complementing those striking blue eyes. 

Maybe it wasn’t that you specifically preferred Armin to be lit up by sunrise or sunset or the gentle glow of the moon, maybe it was just that the nighttime seemed more fitting for him. He could calm the rage of emotions inside of you, he made you feel serene. Armin was soft, kind, never overbearing, but still shining and beautiful in his own way. He was always so willing to help others and be there to support those he cared about. He stood out amongst the darkness of the world, steady, comforting, bathing it in his light without even trying. He was like the moon. 

There was certainly a sun inside of him, he just hadn’t let it out. For now, he was just reflecting its light. 

You had been thoughtfully gazing at the boy for the past few minutes, so when Armin finally turned his head to look at you, it caught you off guard. You knew you hadn’t exactly done anything wrong, but you were still embarrassed to have been caught staring at him, so you looked away; a pink blush creeping up into your cheeks. 

There was silence for a moment before Armin grazed your fingers and took your hand in his. Your heart jumped; this was the first time he had initiated the hand-holding. 

Armin stared at the sky as he tried to calm his heartbeat. At this rate, you would be able to feel it through his palm.

“Is it how you remember?” your voice rang across the breeze, and he sunk into the back of his mind. 

“I… I think so,” Armin replied with hesitancy in his voice, “to be honest, the details are fuzzy, but I’ll never forget the first time I looked up and saw all those stars in the sky. At first I actually thought it was magic!” You giggled softly. 

“I’ve never seen stars like this before,” you sighed, “the closest I’ve gotten is the roof of my house.” Your eyes sparkled as you looked up. 

“Eren told me that you guys used to go up there as kids on the clear nights to try to get a glimpse of the stars,” Armin said as a breeze blew over you both, “do you still go?” 

“Hmm, not as much anymore. In fact we haven’t for quite a while,” your heart sunk a little at your words, “I’d like to, but Eren and Mikasa don’t seem like they have time to sneak onto the roof late at night. I don’t want to bother them with something like that, but it’s not the same when you go alone.” Armin sucked in a breath before he spoke. 

“I’ll go with you,” he squeezed your hand gently, causing you to look over at him and find yourself meeting his gaze. “Th-that is, if you want. I’d be willing- no, I’d want to.” 

Your expression brightened and you gave his hand a squeeze in return. “I’d like that too,” you smiled softly, “I know it’s just the roof of my house, but that place is very special to me.” 

It was special to you because it was a place you and Eren had bonded. It was a place you could go without having to worry about your parents bearing over your heads. They had always forbade you from going through the skylight in your room, which was fair. Knowing how you two were as kids, you would be hurt by something much more complicated than just falling off the roof. There was one time your mother had asked you and Eren to drop off a small package at the post office for her on your way to school. Somehow, that resulted in the neighbor’s cat being dyed green, and that package was never delivered. 

If there was one mistake your parents always made, it was telling you and your twin brother not to do something. 

Ironically, the night you two first dared to climb onto the roof, you didn’t realize it would latch behind you unless you wedged something under it, so you got stuck. That’s what the flat rock sitting on your dresser now was for. 

You were both too terrified to make noise and get the attention of your parents, plus there was a chance they wouldn’t even hear you anyway. 

You and Eren had resorted to making your way around to the front of the house, jumping down onto the balcony, and praying that this wasn’t the one night your father had remembered to lock the door. 

Sure enough, all you ended up having to explain to your parents in the morning was that you were tired because you were “-just playing a lot with Armin yesterday.” They had no real justification to not believe you.

Your roof was also special to you because it was the place you believed you and your brother had truly connected with Mikasa for the very first time. 

It was a nice place to escape to after a long day, and one of the best places you had to cry when you wanted to be alone. It was also comforting to know that if you stayed up there long enough, either Eren, Mikasa, or the both of them would eventually find you and provide a nice shoulder to lean on. It was also a very nice place for talks. 

“This place is special to me too,” Armin’s voice was barely above a whisper, “I remember running up the hill holding my mom’s hand, then my dad would swoop in from behind and pick me up, spinning me around while we all laughed.” 

Your heart broke a little at his memory. No kid deserves to lose their parents so young, not like Armin had. But despite having every right to shut the world out, he still shined brighter than anyone you’d ever known. Even if other kids knocked him down, he always picked himself back up and never let anything make him stop dreaming. 

“It sounds… happy,” you said lightly, disappointed in yourself for not quite knowing what to say. Little did you know, Armin’s heart swelled at your sincerity, and a small smile tugged on his lips. 

“It was,” he exhaled, “My grandfather doesn’t even know about this place. He knows that my parents used to take me to the park to stargaze sometimes, but he doesn’t know about this exact location. I’ve never shown it to anyone before.” 

“I guess you just showed me because it was a dire situation,” you concluded, “sorry about you having to expose it.” 

“I don’t mind,” Armin replied, “I’m happy I got to share this with someone like you.” His eyes shone as they reflected the night sky, twinkling so beautifully above you. It made you think about how big the world really was, how much of it there still was to see. 

“‘Someone like me?’” you repeated, turning on your side to face him, “What does that mean?” You rested your head on your hand and looked at the boy curiously. 

Armin copied your position, and soon you were staring at each other face-to-face. 

“You’re my… closest friend too,” he said softly, you could feel his breath on your face. “You’re special to me, Y/n.” 

If he was your moon, you were his stars. He had never met anyone that shined so effortlessly. You touched the soul of everyone you knew, reaching out to the farthest corners, never leaving anyone behind. There were so many different layers and sides to your personality, each one unique and stunning in its own way. You knew Armin from the inside out. You knew exactly how to reach inside of him and light up his darkness. 

When did your faces grow this close? Neither of you remembered leaning in. 

The thin, wispy stalks of grass surrounded you and blew gently in the breeze. The wind was fresh and crisp, gently carrying along puffs of clouds in the sky. Like a painting, the stars and moon swirled together brilliantly above you, hung like teardrops, bathing you both in their cool glow. 

You paid little mind to the scenery, too enraptured by the boy in front of you, your faces barely a whisper apart. The blonde hair on Armin’s head framed his face nicely, and it was almost too tempting to bring your hand up to run your fingers through it. His eyes seemed to be embedded with the stars themselves; they provided a better view than the constellations ever could. 

The longer Armin stared at you, the more he wondered how someone like you could ever choose to be friends with him, to call him your closest friend, to reach out your hand. You never gave up on anyone, and didn’t hesitate to help those in need. You were the bravest person he knew. Yes, Eren and Mikasa had also stepped in to defend him countless times, but you provided safety on a deeper level. 

You were the first person to step into Armin’s bubble. He didn’t think he’d ever meet anyone who he shared such a rooted connection with. It felt like you were a part of him. 

He felt his heart rate pick up at a pace twice as fast. And as if all that wasn’t enough, Armin thought with a gulp, you’re absolutely beautiful. 

With each passing second, time seemed to move slower and slower in a way you’d never experienced before. An invisible force drew the both of you in like magnets, inching closer and closer together. Your breaths mingled, neither of you entirely sure what to make of the situation, but neither of you wanting to stop. “Armin, you-” you whispered, before a vibrating sound came from your left sweatpants pocket. You stared at each other for a few more seconds before jolting apart and sitting up with your legs out on the grass. 

You squinted before turning down the brightness of your phone screen and reading “Mikasa” underneath her profile picture. As much as you were relieved that the cell service seemed to be back on, you internally groaned before answering the phone. Not the best timing, Mikasa, you thought as you put the phone up to your ear. 

“Hello?” you answered, being met with a few seconds of silence afterward as if Mikasa couldn’t quite believe she was hearing you speak. 

“Carla! She answered!” Mikasa called. You heard a “Seriously?! Did she finally?” from the other end in what sounded like Eren’s voice. 

“Y/n is that you? Why haven’t you come home? Are you hurt? Is Armin with you?” you couldn’t answer Mikasa’s flurry of questions because just then, your mother snatched the phone and asked you a very similar string of questions as you tried to get her to calm down. 

Armin had barely moved since you pulled apart, he was glancing between you and the grass, fidgeting with his hands in his lap. 

You noticed his cheeks were flushed a deep shade of red, but to be honest you probably weren’t much better. Your heart still thumped as you beckoned Armin over so he could speak into the phone too and reassure them of his safety.

The two of you shared shy smiles and soft blushes as your mother’s rambling seemed to fade into the background. Whatever just happened, it was mutual; you could feel it in your bones. Armin didn’t know what to make of the situation, but he knew he had to experience being that close to you again someday.

Chapter Five: Without Words

[ficsforeren]

Blissful Ignorance - Chapter 1

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Eren Jaeger X Female Reader

Genre: Pornstar AU, Smut, Fluff, Light Angst, Romance, Humor

Series Summary: Over the last four years, you’ve become a rising star in the adult entertainment industry. Yet, you can’t seem to forget one of the actors you met in the very beginning of your career — Eren Jaeger. You might even say you’ve got a bit of a crush on him with how often you watch his videos. When you’re hired by Bellesa Films to shoot a sex video, they allow you to choose your partner, and without hesitation you request Eren Jaeger. And while the sex is bliss, like nothing you’ve ever experienced before, you’re ignorant to the truth behind your years-long crush.

Chapter Summary: Broke and desperate to earn some pocket money, Eren Jaeger decided to do a part-time job in the sex industry by helping his older brother, Zeke, direct a porn movie. Little did he know that it would be a start of his romantic journey with you, a pornstar who was about to film a foursome right before his eyes.

Content Warnings: foursome, threesome, sex while being filmed, cream pie, sex with other people present in the room, rough unprotected sex, blow job, cunnilingus, face-sitting, squirting, fingering, hand job, orgasm denial, overstimulation, deep throating, heavy swearing, use of a leash and bondage, incest, dub-con, cum eating/cum play, degradation, praising, pet names, sex toys, choking, humiliation, spit play, tongue piercings, slapping, spanking, dacryphilia, public sex, female and male masturbation, 69.

Word Count: 12k

Poster art by the most talented @rainbuniart (follow her on Twitter)

Eren Jaeger never dreamt of becoming a pornstar, but then again, maybe none of them ever did.

Just like everybody else, if you had asked him twenty years ago what he wanted to become in the future, he would say, “I want to be an astronaut!” Or perhaps a doctor, just like his father Grisha was, that would’ve been a lot more normal. Even until now, four years after he made his first professional sex tape, he’s still not sure why he keeps thrusting his dick inside someone’s cunt for a living. Money is obviously the first reason, and, well, getting paid to have sex is still a lot better than, say, having to earn a doctoral degree in engineering just to have his application declined by an old man working in NASA. It’s not the worst job in the world, being a pornstar. And with his 8.3- inches long cock and a face pretty enough to surpass forty percent of the females working in the sex industry, Eren can go a long way.

Except he doesn’t want to go a long way. He doesn’t want to keep fucking strangers or sex dolls or his own fist just so other people can cum all over their keyboards. But he's not brave enough to quit and find a normal job either. What if it doesn’t work out and he has to go back to live with his grandmother again? Those days after he graduated from high school, doing part-time jobs ranging from delivering pizza to playing small, unimportant roles in porn movies, Eren doesn’t want to do it again. He was poor, broke enough that he couldn’t even afford to have a cellphone. If it wasn’t because of his brother Zeke who frequently invited him over to work with him on set, he would’ve probably had tears for breakfast, sweat for lunch, and air for dinner.

Now, he gets paid ten thousand bucks a month, gets to cum at least five times a day, and motorboats a new pair of tits every twelve hours. So what if he has to suck a fat man’s balls every once in a while? People in prison do that all the time and they’re not getting paid for it. Life isn’t so bad for him, is it?

But of course, we always tend to crave what we can’t have, not appreciate what we do have. Eren wants to be better. He really does, he just doesn’t know if it’s the right path for him to take. Or maybe he just doesn’t know what the fuck he wants to do with his life. He just goes along with it as if he had no other choice. It’s always been like that for him.

Switching off the light on his nightstand, Eren heaves the heaviest sigh as he lies down on his bed. His arms are folded underneath his head, the ridges of his abs look pasty underneath the moonlight that seeps through his window. Today was rough. He had to have sex with two different girls this morning in the middle of the woods. Sure, he got to keep his jacket on, but he was freezing his balls off—literally. He was forced to get an erection quickly with almost no stimulation at all, had to have constant control over his ejaculation, and had to maintain his erection every time his co-star’s makeup was getting fixed. And if they had to fix their make-up for thirty minutes? Eren had to wait for thirty fucking minutes with his fingers around his dick and his testicles turning blue. Honest to God, it was torture.

“I want to quit,” he mumbles to himself, vacant eyes fixated on the ceiling with only darkness greeting him in return. Not a second after, his phone screen lights up, casting a white glow to his pale walls. With boredom in his eyes, he slides his thumb across the screen. Petra Ral, his manager, just texted him with an offer of a new gig. He snorts, talking to whatever deity he believes in by casting ice daggers to the ceiling. “I said I want to quit, you obnoxious fuck. See, this is why I don’t go to church. You never listen to me.”

His phone screen flashes again and this time his eyes widen in shock. He’s invited to shoot a forty-five minutes long video with Bellesa Films, a studio he has never worked with before—only because they’re a huge player in the industry and Eren’s acting skills suck ass (yes, pun intended). But that's not what causes his heart to palpitate.

It’s the fact that you are his next co-star.

Now, to be clear, Eren never gave a fuck about who he’d be working with. Shit, he never even went as far as remembering their names. It wasn’t like he was going to moan it during sex or anything. But you… You’re his favorite actress, aren’t you? And not just in the entertainment industry, you’re his favorite actress in the whole world. Sure, Florence Pugh is talented but can she give a lap dance to her man as you did to Jean Kirstein in the video you shot together in Belfast? Barbara Palvin’s beauty is unworldly but Eren knows for sure she’s not going to look as pretty as you were in your frilly lingerie with your tongue darting out as you waited for Armin Arlert to shoot his cum all over your face. You’re the prettiest fucking thing in the world but he adores you more than just your appearance.

Eren likes to think that you’re an angel, sent down from heaven to save his poor, poor soul (and wallet too) and bestow him with your beauty and grace. Of course, the only right way to worship that angel is to have one hand around his cock, the other one massaging his balls, and his lip bitten to suppress his moan as he watches that angel’s pretty mouth gets fucked by a BBC (funnily enough, Eren doesn’t know that BBC also stands for British Broadcasting Corporation, so when he followed BBC News’s official Twitter account, he was disappointed that he didn't get to see some deep-throating action on his timeline).

Except he doesn’t do it. When he watches your video, he doesn’t have his hand stroking his shaft. He doesn’t imagine himself being in your co-star’s position. He only watches it to see you, to see the way you act around your partner, the way you pucker your lips in a preparation for a kiss, or the way you moan, “Ah, yes, that dick feels so fucking good.” He only watches it to prove that you're lying.

Because you don’t smile like that, do you? Not in front of him, you don’t. You don’t moan like that either. You’re exaggerating it, performing as you should. But Eren knows. He knows exactly how you look when you feel good. He still remembers perfectly the way you moaned his name, moaning it in a way that doesn’t sound similar to any other noises you made with everyone else. He can still feel the way your walls clenched around him when you cummed hard on his cock, your toes curling in pleasure that was so intense, you cried out his name in this beautiful, sultry whine. He knows you. He remembers you.

And whenever he slept with someone else, both for his job or just for fun, Eren would close his eyes and imagine you in their place. It’s a shitty thing to do but he’s a shitty person to begin with so what else is new? He would try to recall the way you whimpered his name or the way you said, “Kiss me. I want to feel your lips on me,” a moment before he released his hot seeds inside you. To anyone else, it would just be a line that you’d probably practiced in front of your vanity mirror a few times. But that wasn’t it, was it? Because he knows you rarely kiss your co-star, as you would find it too intimate. You only kissed back, never initiated it. But with him, you seemed so desperate for it.

“Fuck,” he breathes out, immediately punching down numbers to his phone. “Petra? Yeah, hi, about that offer. I’m in.”

“You’re sure?” A feminine voice speaks from the other line. “I’m still bargaining since you don’t get paid as much as she would—”

At this rate, he would even pay the studio to let him have this job. “It’s fine. I’m in.”

“Err… Okay. Whatever you say. I’ll text you the address. Don’t be late this time, Eren, or I swear to God, you’ll have to fuck a horse on your next gig.”

“I won’t, I promise.”

***

Eren may be a half-assed pornstar, but today he’s a perfect gentleman who stays true to his words. He’s not late for the appointment. He’s three hours early.

Dressed casually in a washed-out denim button-down shirt with his long sleeves rolled up to his elbows and three of his top buttons unfastened, Eren stepped down from his car with his wayfarer sunglasses sitting low on his nose. He combined his outfit with a pair of dark jeans and high tops sneakers, looking like a high-class fashion model who tries to blend in by dressing up as your typical college student on his way to seduce his professor to raise his grades (which he would definitely be doing if he was enrolled in one—he’s a slut, no matter what universe he’s in). He had his long hair tied up neatly in a ponytail at first, but he changed it into a messy bun before he climbed down his Ford, not wanting to look like he’s overdressed for the occasion, even when he probably had sprayed half a bottle of his Bvlgari perfume this morning (on his neck, his chest, his armpits, and his… nether region, just to be safe).

“Looks like somebody is excited,” the female director for the day, Hange Zoe, greets him with a handshake and a smile too wide to be natural. Eren almost looks down, afraid that he's popped up an erection (because, frankly, he had been thinking about you in that unlined lace plunge babydoll you wore on your latest video on his way driving here), but thankfully, Hange continues with her words before he’s dumb enough to do it. “I thought you were one of the staff until I saw how pretty you were. None of my stars ever arrived this early.”

“I, uhh…” Eren scratches his nape, his blush blooms beautifully on his strong cheekbones. “I was dropping my niece at her school this morning and—well, it was closer to get here than to go back to my house—apartment, so, umm,” he clears his throat, “I just… I went here.”

Hange presses her lips tightly in a white line to keep her smile from breaking. “Well, I hope you fuck better than you lie. Have a seat, Eren. Can I call you Eren?”

With his face practically bursting into flames, the boy sighs. “Yes, you can call me Eren.” He takes a seat on the edge of the bed as requested, facing the director who sits on a wooden chair with a cup of brewed coffee being held in one hand. The king-sized bed he’s perched on has square pillows with the words Bellesa House written on them, and Eren knows, from the way the room is set-up—with lightings and three cinema cameras directed toward the bed—it’s going to be the place where he gets to embrace you later on—in two hours and forty-eight minutes, to be exact, not that he’s counting (he just… glances at his phone screen every two minutes).

“Well, since you’re early, why don’t we start with your interview?” Hange suggests with a smile and Eren nods. It’s not like he has something more important to do. His only plan for the next two hours and—he takes a peek at his phone again—forty-seven minutes from now is just daydreaming about how soft your lips must feel against his (and how hard he’s going to fuck you later, obviously, but he tries not to think about it as it would be awkward to explain why he has a raging boner in a room full of people munching greasy hamburgers for breakfast).

“My interview?” Eren frowns. “I thought you were going to give me the script.”

“Oh, we don’t do that here, love.” Hange takes a sip of her coffee before she hands it over to her assistant, Moblit. “Okay, I’ll start asking you questions now,” she says, not noticing that Eren still has his forehead creasing in confusion. “We’ll start rolling the cameras on three. I want you to relax, okay? Just act casually like how you normally do. What I need to see right now is your honesty. You’re as handsome as a dream, honey, but you can’t lie to save your life so don't even try.”

“Hange,” Moblit chastises firmly, nudging her with his elbow. “You can’t say that to an actor.”

“Oh, shit, yeah.” She winces. “Sorry.”

Eren can’t even utter a word. Partially because he thinks it’s true. He can’t act for shit.

“What I mean is right now I want you to be yourself,” she clarifies, glancing at Moblit for approval. The second she sees him nodding, she breathes in relief. “Treat me as a friend, okay? We’re just two besties in our underwears talking about boys—or girls—you know, whatever your sexual prefer—”

“Girls. I like girls.”

“Okay, girls then.” She beams at him, making gestures at the cameraman behind her. On her count, Eren straightens his back, preparing himself for the camera.

“Hi, welcome to Bellesa House,” Hange says, speaking with her professional voice from behind the lens. “How are you today, Eren?”

The boy probably can’t lie to save his life, true, but in front of these cameras, he somehow feels more at ease, as if it’s something that makes him feel at home. “I feel great. Never been better actually.”

Hange can see it too, the way he lets his taut muscles unwind, his legs stretched out casually as he speaks. “Thank you for being here.”

“Thank you for having me.”

“So I assume you already know your co-star for today.” Eren nods with a sheepish smile forming faintly on his lips. “This is going to be the first time you’ll be seeing her again in like, what, three years?”

“Three and eleven months,” he blurts out, which he quickly corrects with, “Not like I’m counting or anything.”

Hange and Moblit secretly smile to themselves, finding his honesty to be adorable. “Are you nervous?”

“Nervous? Do I look like I’m nervous?”

“You kinda do, yeah.”

“I’m dying, actually,” Eren admits with an awkward laugh. “I don’t think I’ve ever been this nervous in my four years working in this industry.”

“Why is that?”

“I just…” He looks down as he places both hands on his lap, making a steeple out of his fingers. “I’m a huge fan of hers. She’s a fantastic performer and she's just... She's so beautiful.”

Eren seems like he wants to say something more so she waits for a few more seconds before continuing. Changing his mind at the last second, he nibbles on his lower lip, sitting rigidly on his seat like a thirteen-year-old boy facing his crush—which, in a way, he is because mentally he’s thirteen.

“Yes, she’s very beautiful,” she says, “And you’re a very handsome man too.”

His timid smile only adds more beauty to his face, another shade to his personality. “Thank you.”

“I was informed that she was your first partner on the screen?”

“Yeah,” he admits it bashfully. “And I still feel sorry for her.”

“Why?”

“Well, I mean, it was my first time.”

“You think you were bad at it?”

He pauses for a good two seconds before he answers with a feeble nod. “I just… I didn’t have any experience in, you know, performing in front of cameras before, so… I’m sure she didn’t enjoy it.”

“Is that so? I don't think she'd ask to film together with you again if she didn’t enjoy it."

“Huh?” Eren blinks, lifting his face to read her expression. “She asked for me?”

“You’re adorable.” The director titters at the sight. “Yes, she chose you to be her partner today.”

“She—” He swallows thickly. “She did? I thought her agency decided to film with me.”

“Honey, didn’t your manager tell you about this? Here at Bellessa House, we let our performers choose who they want to have sex with. This is why I’m doing this interview with you. I want to know why you both chose each other.”

Oh yeah, shit, Petra did mention something like that, Eren remembers. He was just too busy drowning in excitement to actually let her words sink in. “She chose me…” he’s mumbling to himself, still somewhat baffled. “I can’t believe she chose me…”

“Yes, she did. I’m sure she enjoyed her first time with you.”

Eren’s skin contains enough melanin to stop his blush from becoming too apparent, but even so, he still turns as red as a ketchup bottle. “My ears are buzzing right now.”

“Don’t explode just yet,” Hange chortles. “Seems to me you have a little crush on her.”

“I have a huge crush on her, it’s insane,” he says, his mouth running on its own. He’s dizzy with anticipation, engulfed by elation that he can no longer remember the three cameras that record his reaction from each side of the room. Right now, he just sees Hange as someone he can finally pour his feelings out in the open. And boy, only God knows just how much he wants to let his emotions break free.

So, when Hange asks him, “Can you tell me what you like about her?” He just lets himself loose.

“Every time she looks at me, I just—” His thoughts are running too fast for his lips to form the words, but his eyes are expressive, filling all the blanks as they gleam full of wonder. “You see, when I have a girl that actually gives me eye contact that really makes me feel like I can believe her when she says the things that she says, I’m all about it. It brings back memories of my younger days when I didn’t have to lie about what I felt, you know? Cause, like—” He pauses to catch his breath. “In this job, we have to lie to each other almost every second because we don’t always get to work with the people we want to work with. So when you actually get that feeling of this person who just really wants to be around you, it kinda sticks with you. And you want to keep feeling that. It’s addicting, you know? To be wanted for who you are and not this persona you display every time you’re on camera.”

“You feel like you can be yourself when you’re with her?”

“Yeah…” Anyone who sees him right now can tell that he’s lovestruck, even when he, himself, hasn’t realized it yet. “And I feel like… she can be herself when she’s around me too. Or, at least, I hope so.”

The way he speaks so softly, the tenderness in his gaze—they morph Hange’s mischievous grin into a smile full of warmth. “What was it like the first time you saw her?”

“Oh, man…” He chuckles, his hand unconsciously moves back to his nape, a habit that shows whenever he gets embarrassed. “It’s a funny story actually.”

“Can you tell us about it?”

Eren can barely keep his smile to himself as he digs back into his memory. He’s repeated this one scene so many times in his head, jerked off to it more times than he has ever had sex in the last four years, which, to his dismay, is saying something.

It was at the beginning of spring, just like any other love story, he supposed (bold of him to even call this a love story) when you walked into his life. Perhaps he was just an idiot whose brain was only able to process things slower than normal people did because the second you walked past him, it felt like his entire world turned into slow motion. He was twenty-one at that time, but he was gawking at you like a twelve-year-old finding out that he just had his first wet dream.

Speaking of his wet dream, you were her. The girl who showed up in his dream. The girl who said absolutely no word and just straight up took off his pants and went down to her knees. That girl—that fucking goddess who graced his dream(s)—had your hair, the same curve of your lips, your eyes, your nose, your tits—your eyes. He meant eyes. Fuck, he’d said that. Well, she had your face and your body. And if that girl had spoken a word, Eren knew she would’ve sounded like you. You were the girl of his dreams. Literally.

Or, maybe you weren’t, but at that moment, he decided to make you one. Who cares, right?

“Done drooling yet?” His step-brother, Zeke, asked him, and when Eren took a second longer than necessary to answer, he slapped a thick bundle of his script against his head.

Eren groaned, rubbing his skull to soothe down the pain. “Jesus, what the fuck is that?”

“The script you should be handing to our lead.” He smacked him again, just for fun, before he pushed it to his chest. “This is the first time I’m taking you to my workplace and you’re drooling all over my carpet. Shame on you.”

“What, I can’t appreciate a pretty girl?” Eren snorted as he took the script in his hand.

“Oh, you think she’s pretty? Do you?”

“Yeah, speak louder. I don’t think she heard you yet.”

Zeke actually screamed out your name, garnering attention from literally everyone in the room. Panicking, Eren slapped a hand over his mouth. “I’m going to fucking kill you, you stupid monke.”

Zeke licked his palm, leaving Eren with no choice but to retract his hand in disgust. “You’re here as my assistant for today, so, please, for God’s sake, please actually do your job for once.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?! I never—”

“Hey, Director, I think I heard you calling my name. Is there something wrong?”

Eren spun around so fast, he felt like he was a fucking ballerina. There, standing right before him, was the prettiest angel he’d ever seen in his life, no matter how corny it sounded in his head. Your voice was even more beautiful than he had imagined, and you looked so damn adorable with your eyebrows stitched together in curiosity, your face slightly painted over with concern. You were staring at Zeke before, but then you shifted your gaze toward him and Eren swore, he felt like he received enlightenment. The world was suddenly ten times brighter. You were shining, blinding his eyes. You were basically the sun and he was just a tiny speck of dust about to be blown away by the wind. His existence didn’t matter, not to you, not to anyone else, but yours meant the world to him.

“Hey,” you tossed him a polite smile, which caused him to gulp. “Is that for me?”

Eren looked down at his body, trying to figure out what you meant. What were you referring to? Is she talking about my dick—

Zeke smacked him on the head again, using his bare fist this time. “Her script, you idiot.”

“Oh my God, are you okay?” You checked up on him, landing a hand on his shoulder before you directed a scowl to his brother. “Did you really have to hit him that hard?”

“Jesus, not you too.” The blonde man rolled his eyes. “I’m literally gonna pretend you both don’t exist in my life until the cameras are rolling. Try not to flirt and memorize the script for me, yeah?” Then he walked away just like that, exchanging conversations with Colt Grice, the actor you were going to work with for the day.

“You all right?” You asked him again when you noticed Eren hadn’t said a word. He had his eyes on you, staring at you like you were the hardest equation to solve. You tilted your head to the side, practically holding a neon sign above your head that said, “HEY, LOOK AT ME! I’M SUPER CUTE!” which forced him to look away with a blush painting his face.

“I’m—I’m fine,” he said, moving the script toward your direction. “Here’s your, uh, your thing—the script—your script.” Oh my God, I’m gonna kill myself, he thought to himself. There was literally nothing more embarrassing he could have done than stammering out his every word.

Except he pushed the script a little too far and he accidentally grazed his knuckles against your chest.

He gaped, eyes shaking in horror as they blatantly stared at your boobs. This is it, isn’t it? He screamed in his head. This is the end of my life. The end of the fucking world.

He expected you to scream at him, probably even slap him in the face just like how the girls behaved in those hentai mangas he read (he was broke, okay? He couldn’t afford to jerk off to a playboy magazine). But to his surprise, you were laughing at him. Taking the script off his frozen hand, your smile was as angelic as the rest of your features. You introduced him to your name, offering him your hand. “May I know your name?”

He answered your question by restating your name then he shook his head and said, “Eren. I’m Eren.”

“Eren…?”

“Jaeger.”

“Oh, no wonder you two seemed close! You’re Zeke’s younger brother?”

“I’m his younger step-brother,” he felt the need to clarify. “You?”

“Uhh… I’m his actress for the day?”

Sometimes, sometimes, Eren wished he could just shut the fuck up. Literally every word he said just made him look ten times dumber. “Ah, yeah… Of course, I knew that. Sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing?”

Cause you’re so pretty and I’m so stupid. “Cause you’re pretty stupid.”

There was a moment of silence before your mouth shaped a little, “What?”

Then he blinked. He blinked again. And he blinked again.

Then he combusted into flames. “I—” He was so traumatized by himself that he lost the courage to speak. “I’m an idiot, sorry. I will just… go.” And he did. He just fucking walked away with one hand pressing against the side of his temple, his brain trying to find the quickest way to die without exuding more pain than he already felt.

Eren had always been awkward with girls, but he had never been this awkward.

This was just painful to watch.

But, of course, God was not on his side that day—just like any other day, actually. Because by the time they started shooting, a staff member came by to inform them that one of the extras couldn’t arrive on time. “Jesus fucking Christ,” Zeke groaned loudly into the air. “Eren, come here!”

And just like that, he was upgraded from being an embarrassing and fucking cringe director’s assistant to a super embarrassing and fucking cringe extra on set.

“So we were in a club and we sat on a couch,” Eren recites his story to Hange. “The main guy—Colt—was sitting right next to me, and she was on the stage, and she was stripping. You know how strippers always look sexy in the movies? Well, I don’t find them that way in real life. I just find them awkward, and like… I don’t know, it’s just a massive turn-off for me. But when I saw her on that stage… God, it was like a life-changing moment for me. She was the one who regained my faith in strippers. She was… She was breathtaking. So gorgeous. I actually went back and watched that scene a few times more and I got a massive erection the whole time. I was like, if I had dollar bills, I would’ve given her all the fucking money I owned.”

His rambling only stops when he hears Hange giggling from behind the camera. Then his face catches fire. “Wait, this is just between us, right?” Eren panics. “You’re not gonna show this interview to her, are you?”

“No, of course not,” she says, assuring him with a sweet smile. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

***

“So, Eren said he really enjoyed that performance of you stripping.”

“He did?” You gasp, a palm rising to your mouth to cover your gleeful grin. “Oh my God. It was so embarrassing for me to do that ‘cause I’ve never really danced in front of people before. I was so nervous about it.”

“Was him being there one of the reasons why you were nervous?”

“Honestly? Yeah,” you admit meekly. “More than anyone else.”

Just like Eren two and a half hours ago, you’re now sitting on the edge of a king-sized bed but in a different room. You’re dressed casually in your favorite shirt that showcases your curves and a pair of denim shorts that ride up your thighs. You have your hair cascading to your shoulders as you remember well how he said you looked even more beautiful with your hair down. You’re doing your interview with Hange, just like he did, while Eren is still locked up inside the other room, not allowed to see you just yet.

“Was there an attraction which added to the nervousness or…?“

“Yeah, definitely,” you answer, giggling lightly as you feel heat creeping up your cheeks. “Whenever I felt his eyes on me, I couldn’t concentrate on what I was doing. He was sitting on the couch in front of me, right there next to my co-star whom I should be focusing on, and I kept telling myself to don’t look at him right now. Just focus on the script, you got this.”

The waves of laughter that depart from Hange’s mouth indicate that she’s satisfied with the actors she hires today, as you both are so head over heels for each other. “You thought he was cute?”

“Oh, Hange,” you dreamily sigh. “I thought he was the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.” And your smile speaks nothing but sincerity, just like your eyes. “But you know what really attracts me to him? It’s his smile. His little crooked grin and his personality—that combination for me—it’s the first thing that pulls me toward him. And his eyes… God, have you seen his eyes? They’re gorgeous. But, yeah, his smile and personality are what make him so much more attractive to me. He can be everything at once. Shy and confident, brave yet timid, loud then quiet. He’s adorable. Even from the very first time we met when he was still so awkward around me, I already thought, like, oh, I think I have a crush on you.”

“Wow.”

“I know, right?” You feel bashful now that you say it out loud. “This is bad, please don’t let him know I’m fangirling over him like this.”

“Are you his fangirl?”

“Big time.”

“So you’ve watched his videos?”

“Every single one of them, yeah. More times than I’d like to admit.”

“Have you ever touched yourself when you watched it?”

“Hange!” You gasp before you both trade laughter. “Off the record, though—and I mean it, Hange, I want you to delete this part.”

“I promise I’ll delete it.”

“Okay, well then, yeah, you got me.” You throw your hands in the air before you raise your legs and hug your knees to your chest, burying half of your face behind them. “Yes, I’ve touched myself several times to the thoughts of him. How can you not, though? He’s Eren Jaeger. There’s a reason why he’s so popular among the ladies.”

“He told me the story of your first meeting with him. He said he messed up real bad.”

You giggle, your chest warmed by the thought of him still remembering your first encounter. “Yeah, you’d think with a face like that he’d be all suave and smooth with the ladies, but no, he was just like… this shy boy next door. He’s so charming. And whenever he smiles, you can just feel like a little…” You gesticulate, trying to find the right words.

“Butterflies in your stomach?” Hange offers.

“Yes!” You almost shout in agreement. “Yes, exactly. I’m like, hmm, baby, do it again.”

“You’re now one of the most popular rising stars working in the industry. You could’ve chosen literally anyone you wanted, but when we asked you, you immediately requested him without even having to think about it for a second.”

“Yes, it was a clear choice for me. I’ve always wanted to do this with him. We haven’t had the chance to hang out much because we’ve always been busy with our own schedules, but our first time on screen was… This may sound corny, but it was… magical, to say the least.”

“You don’t hear the word magical often when you talk about sex in the adult entertainment industry.”

“Yes, exactly! I thought we really hit it off. We have good chemistry with each other, and like I’ve mentioned literally a thousand times before, he’s really adorable. He’s so sweet and gentle to me. You know when you meet somebody and you just, kind of, know—like, you feel that pull and you’ve got that mental connection that you can’t find with anyone else. I feel that way when I’m with him. And when he took me to bed, the only thing I could think of was… Oh, this feels right. So, I’m just trying to take it a step further now.”

“Toward what? Getting married?”

“Hange!”

“Okay, one last question before we get on with the show,” your director chortles as she dodges the cushion you threw at her. “Tell me the story of your first time together. Tell us what happened behind the scenes.”

“Oh, shit, okay. Wait, let me prepare myself.” You clap both palms to your cheeks, hoping it would soothe down the burn. “Okay, so, it happened around three months after we first met.”

***

It was in the middle of a hot, summer night when you met him for the second time four years ago. The weather itself was sweltering enough to drench your clothes with your sweat. You could only imagine just how uncomfortably hot it would be when you had to perform a foursome in about forty-five minutes from now. You were holding your script in your hands, your eyes running over your lines, remembering the positions they wanted you to do, as your stylist worked on your hair, doing a final touch on your make-up. You were reciting lines to yourself, mumbling under your breath, when suddenly, you heard Zeke screaming, “Oh, fuck me senseless!”

You observed from the vanity mirror, listening to him grousing and yelling at a female staff, though he didn’t particularly direct his words at her. “Out of all fucking days, he just had to have his hernia acting up today, huh? Fuck this. I can’t reschedule again. I already have five other jobs lining up, I’m not gonna waste my time just because Mr. Bertholdt fucking Hoover can’t show up on set.” He pitched his voice higher, whining mockingly as he imitated Bertholdt’s German accent. “Oh no, my intestine is bulging out, boo fucking hoo!” To say that Zeke was upset was an understatement. He was pissed. “We’ll change the script. Let’s just shoot a threesome.”

Another staff member raised a hand, interrupting him. “But Sir, we’ve already paid the actors to shoot a foursome.”

“Well, tell them to return half the money.”

Porco Galliard, one of the lead actors for today’s shoot, bellowed. “No fucking way, bro, a deal is a deal.”

“Oh my God, then somebody please be helpful and find me a new actor now! I need him to show up on set in five minutes!”

Eren was filling in as his assistant for the day too, but you hadn’t had the opportunity to say hi as you were dragged toward the changing room the second you arrived on the set. You had noticed him stealing glances at you, and the way he immediately looked away with a hand rubbing his nape whenever your gaze met in the mirror. He was adorable.

“Dude, chill,” Eren said, moving closer to where Zeke was standing with his fingers buried in his hair, yanking at his roots in frustration.

“I can’t just chill, you idiot,” his brother spat back—literally spat back, as you could see Eren wiping something off his face with his thumb. “Go make yourself useful for once. Find someone to replace Berholdt before I go insane. I don't have enough money to pay for another session of therapy, fuck me.”

Eren sighed. It was so unrealistic to have someone agreeing to a gig that fast, but an idea popped up in his head. The brunette chewed on his lip, contemplating his decision. Should I really do this?

You stayed mute on your seat as you kept your eyes on him through the mirror. For a brief two seconds, you saw Eren glancing at you again before he turned around and whispered in Zeke’s ear.

“Ha-ha, very funny,” the bearded man snorted. “You think my job is a joke, don’t you?”

“Shut up and just hear me out for a second!” Eren dragged him to the corner of the room where they could speak in private. You could see their limbs moving as they hissed at each other, but they were out of your hearing zone.

“I know it’s insane,” Eren uttered, his cheeks reddened by his own offer. “But I really feel like I can do it.”

“You’re telling me you want to be a pornstar,” Zeke repeated back to him, staring flatly at him. “That’s what you’re saying.”

Honestly? No, he didn’t. But he had read the script that he was supposed to hand over to Bertholdt, and he knew that there were a lot of nasty, nasty things they planned to do with you. And he wanted it. God, he wanted to be with you so bad, he didn’t care if he had to fuck you in front of twenty strangers in the room just to have a taste. Of course, he could try and ask you out on a date like a normal person, but with the way he acted during your first meeting—all stupid and awkward and just downright embarrassing—would you really say yes to him? He’d been staring at you like a creep too. You must have felt disgusted with him.

So Eren thought, if he couldn’t have you that way, at least he could try and have you... well, this way. Taking a deep breath, he said, “Well, it’s not my dream job but—”

“Eren.” Zeke placed both hands on his shoulders, sighing exasperatedly. “I love you, I do, but for the love of God and everything holy, please shut the fuck up.”

Yeah, it was probably too far of a stretch to be asking his brother this so suddenly but Eren was desperate. He wasn’t proud of his next tactic, but he knew for sure this was the only way to win his brother’s heart. “Brother,” he called him with a little pout, and he could see Zeke turning stiff. Eren rarely called him ‘brother’. It was always “Dude,” or “Dipshit,” or “Stupid fucking monke." Even having his little brother call him by his name was already something to be grateful for and today, right at this moment, Eren—practically with tears in his eyes, Zeke’s delusional mind said—called him, “Brother.”

And with those puppy eyes too, my God. “W-what is it?” Zeke swallowed.

“You can use me,” Eren convinced him, trying to look as vulnerable and innocent as possible, just like how a little boy would ask his brother to play ball with him when it was raining outside. “I swear, I won’t let you down. I never did, right?”

Oh, Eren had let him down many times before. It was a wonder Zeke hadn’t called the police on him yet. His little brother was a demon, Zeke knew that for sure, even in his good days, he was satanic. But right now, Eren looked nothing but an angel to his eyes. Fixing his glasses, Zeke turned away from him. “It doesn’t matter if you want to or not, Eren. You don’t have what it takes.”

And when Eren lost his patience, they started yelling at each other again. “Dude, why are you like this?! You’ve never even seen me in bed! Go ahead and call my ex. I’m sure she’d say that I’m a beast when it comes to fucking ass.”

“First of all, eww,” Zeke made a face. “I did not need that information. Second, having sex in porn is different than having sex in real life.”

“How is it any different?!”

“For starters, you need to hold your erection for a long time—”

“How long? Thirty minutes? Forty? Fifty? I've done it. Give me a fucking viagra and I can hold it for three hours.”

“Jesus Christ.” When Zeke prayed to his Lord to give him a chance to have a heart-to-heart moment with his favorite little brother, he should’ve stated his prayer more specifically because this conversation he was having here right now? This wasn’t it. “Look, even if you can, I still can’t hire you.”

“Why nooooooot?” Eren was whining, maybe he would’ve even stomped one foot on the ground, throwing tantrums like a child, if he didn’t remind himself that he was a fucking adult trying to land himself a gig in the sex industry. "Look, I’ll even do it for free."

"That's not the problem."

"Okay, I'll pay you then."

This is getting ridiculous, Zeke groaned internally. Eren didn't even have a penny in his wallet to begin with. "No."

"But why—"

“IT'S BECAUSE YOU HAVE A SMALL DICK!”

There was silence and Eren was sure that the whole room could hear him (you couldn’t, though, they were still too far away for you to catch on their words). “You think I have a small dick?” Eren questioned him, his voice suddenly turned deep.

“We took a bath together when we were kids, Eren. I know what your dick looks like.”

“I was five.”

“Pretty small dick for a five-year-old. I’m sure it hasn’t changed much.”

“Yeah?” Eren took a final stride toward him, closing whatever the gap between them as he unfastened his belt. Unbuttoning his jeans, he hooked his fingers around his waistband and his underwear and tugged them forward, far enough for Zeke to be able to take a peek inside his pants. “Go on then, have a look.”

From your point of view, as you were still eyeing them from your vanity mirror, it looked so fucking weird because they were yelling and spitting at each other’s faces before, and now Zeke was blatantly staring at whatever it was that was hiding inside Eren's pants, gawking at the sight. Then they both looked into each other’s eyes and suddenly, Zeke turned around and clapped his hands in the air, “Everybody, get the cameras rolling!”

Once you and Pieck Finger—another actress they hired to be Bertholdt’s partner for today—have finished with your make-up, you both stepped into the bedroom where you were going to shoot three different sex scenes with the boys. And by boys, you meant Porco Galliard and—

Eren Jaeger.

“So, Eren,” Zeke said, rotating on his heels to face him. “You’ve read the script, right? You've memorized all your lines?”

Eren nodded, a faint blush still painting his cheeks whenever your eyes met even in a fleeting second. “I’m paired with Pieck first, and then…” His gaze drifted toward yours again, his face turning a shade redder as he croaked out the words, “W-with her.”

Zeke smacked him on the head. “Stop blushing, you idiot.”

“I wasn’t—I’m not blushing!”

His older brother left to take a seat on his director's chair (it was really just an old wooden chair, but Zeke insisted it to be called one), positioning himself behind the camera once he was finished with his final briefing. The story was simple. You, Pieck, Eren, and Porco were four college students hanging out in your dorm. You and Pieck were dressed in skimpy clothes—tight tank tops and shorts that do absolutely nothing to cover the bottom half of your ass. Porco had the most basic white tee thrown on him, combined with gray sweatpants and the perfect slicked-back hair. Eren looked sharp, wearing a red flannel shirt and a pair of dark jeans. He had rolled up his sleeves to his elbows, allowing you to notice just how protruding his veins were. He must have been lifting weights, or maybe he was really good at sports. Either way, his whole attractiveness just increased by tenfold.

Zeke was still conversing with the cameraman about the angle they were planning to use when you approached Eren and tapped him on his shoulder. “Hey.”

Eren noticeably gulped at the sight of you tilting your head up to meet his gaze. He was so tall, tall enough for you to have to stand on your toes just to capture his lips in a kiss. Your height difference also gave him a nice view of your cleavage. “H-hi.”

“So, we meet again.”

“You remember me?”

“I tend to remember guys who were brave enough to call me pretty stupid during our first meeting.”

He looked like he was about to pass out. “I swear that was not what I wanted to say.”

“What did you want to say then?”

“T-that I was stupid and that you…” He did it again. That thing where he scratched his nape as he cast his gaze downward. “You looked pretty.”

Your lips curved beautifully into a smile. “You think I’m pretty?”

With the way you were leaning in close, trying to see the expression he tried to conceal, you just looked a hundred times cuter than before. It left him dizzy, leaving his mouth running beyond his control again. “I do. You're so pretty, I can't stop myself from thinking about you all the time."

His sudden honesty, the way he blurted his sentence and looked like he was about to explode right after, caused your heart to throb harder than it ever did. And you felt overwhelmed by it, leaving your thoughts blank for a moment before you turned yourself to the side, landing your gaze at the staff who ran back and forth on set, trying to assure everything was in order.

“So, umm…” You cleared your throat. “Your name’s Eren, right?”

The way you called his name—God, he wanted to hear it again. You made his name sound ten times prettier. “Yeah.”

“It’s a pretty name.”

“T-thanks.”

“Are you from Germany?”

“Umm… No.”

“Oh, sorry. I just thought I heard a hint of a German accent in your voice when I heard you talking to Zeke. I took German back in college—well, before I dropped out anyway. But I must have heard it wrong.”

He could feel it, feel the way his heart just fell a little harder for you. “Well, my grandparents are Germans, yes, but I was born and raised here in the states.”

“So you do speak German then.”

“Whenever I’m with them, yeah. They can’t speak English so I had to learn their language to talk to them. It’s something I’ve picked up ever since I was young, as I was raised by my nana. I think I learned German first before I knew English. Why?”

So, he’s over six feet tall, looks like a model, smiles like a fucking angel, has broad shoulders and the most stunning green eyes I’ve ever seen in my life, probably has washboard abs too, and he speaks German, you thought, looking up at the ceiling. You really do have your favorites, huh?

“So, Eren. Have you done this before or is this your first time?”

“My first time having sex with a stranger? No,” he admits it rather diffidently as if it was something to be shameful about until he remembered that you did it for a living. Then he straightened his back, trying to be respectful. “But yes, this would be my first time performing in front of people. And, well, being recorded too.”

“You’ve never recorded yourself having sex for fun?” You teased him with a naughty twinkle in your eyes. “Such a shame. Would’ve paid to see that.”

His fingers reached his collar, tugging on it as he felt like it was choking him. “H-how about you? How long have you been doing this for a living?”

“A couple of months. That time when we first met? That was my second gig.”

“It was?” His voice rose in surprise. “Wow, I never would’ve thought. You were so good at it.”

“At what? Having sex?” He almost choked at your words. Wanting to tease him even further, you slid your hand up his arm, feeling the way his biceps tense underneath the fabric of his shirt before you wound your hand around his neck. Pulling him lower, you whisper alluringly in his ear. “In a few minutes, you’ll get to see just how good I really am.”

Eren choked. He really was choking on his own spit this time, and you walked away with little giggles breaking past your lips, joining Pieck who was already sprawling on the bed.

“Dude, pull your shit together,” Porco said as he walked past him. “If we have to re-do takes just because you keep blushing like a fucking schoolgirl, I’m gonna kick your ass.”

Eren honestly thought he was going to mess up a lot too, probably enough to get himself fired in the first ten minutes. But surprisingly, everything went smoothly. Zeke always prioritized getting a clear shot of your expression or Pieck’s, alternating between taking close-up shots of the way Eren’s cock was sliding in and out of Pieck’s cunt or Porco’s tongue circling your clit. The director knew well that Eren’s decision on filming the scene wasn’t because he was certain that he wanted to join the sex industry, which was why Zeke was being as careful as possible to not film his face.

It worked well for Eren, because that meant he didn’t have to act much. He delivered a few corny lines at the beginning, acted shy when both you and Pieck were taking turns in seducing him—which in his case, took zero acting skill as he was indeed very embarrassed about it. Then he kept his dick hard while Pieck continued to edge him by giving lazy strokes around his shaft—which, again, took zero acting skill but massive talent, Eren would argue, as it was very hard (again, pun intended) to stop himself from ejaculating too quickly. Because although he had zero interest in Pieck, her hands were very pretty and they curled around him just right. The sight of you rubbing your pussy against Porco’s face wasn’t helping him either.

Foreplay was torture for him, but fortunately, Zeke asked them to move on to the next part of the script. Both you and Pieck settled yourselves on the bed, facing each other as you both went down on all fours. Eren, no matter how much he wanted to protest, was directed to position himself behind Pieck, while Porco stood on his knees behind you. From where he was kneeling, Eren could see your face clearly. You had a smile plastered on your lips when you told her, “Sorry, I gotta borrow your boyfriend for a while.”

“Are you my boyfriend, Pokko?” Pieck asked the blonde man with mischief misting her slanty eyes.

Porco, stroking himself to maintain his erection, reciprocated with a snort. “We’re fucking engaged, Pieck.”

Both you and Pieck laughed and Eren felt a bit left out. He didn’t know these people, he only knew you and so he kept his eyes on you, focusing on your cupid’s bow lips, memorizing how pretty they looked when you grinned, or laughed, or giggled in such a juvenile way. He felt like he wanted to ruin you, turned that titter into a breathless moan of his name. And your eyes—the way they gleamed, the way they twinkled, the way they stared back at him—he wanted to see his reflection on them.

Fuck, she’s looking at me. Eren felt his breath catch in his throat.

“You okay there, big boy?” You asked him, biting the corner of your lower lip to keep yourself from grinning. Was it a form of seduction in your case, Eren didn’t know, but man, you looked like the sexiest devil he could only dream of visiting his room at night.

Eren nodded, it was the best he could offer you right now and you smiled again. That cute little fucking smile. he wanted nothing more than to feel it on his lips.

On Zeke’s cue, Eren and Porco entered you and Pieck at the same time, pushing you both forward and forcing your lips to meet. You moaned when you felt Pieck’s mouth parting yours, her slick tongue plunged and plundered. Eren sank his nails a little harder on Pieck’s hips as he pounded his hips faster, encouraged by the pretty sounds of your whine. Eren had watched his fair share of porn, but damn, none of those girls ever sounded as sensual as you.

How are you going to sound when you moan my name?

You broke away from the kiss, letting out a little, “ah, ah, ah,” with every thrust Porco gave you. Eren’s eyes darkened. Jealousy gnawing at his chest like a hungry wolf.

It should’ve been me. It should’ve been me. It should’ve been me.

He punctuated each of his thoughts by driving his cock harder inside Pieck, forcing her to mewl in response, her toes squirming in pleasure. The sight of her drowning in rapture stole a giggle out of your lips again and Eren’s jaw hung slack on his face, eyes hungrily absorbing every bit of your lewd expression.

“Feels good?” you asked Pieck but you kept your eyes on Eren’s viridian ones, as if you were asking him instead.

He grunted in response, slamming his hips forward until Pieck fell face first on the bed, wailing, “Ah, fuck yes, right there!”

You were biting on your lip again as you watched the muscles in his stomach flex with every movement. Funny how he could barely maintain your gaze longer than three seconds before, and now he was staring down at you like you were his prey. He wanted to ravish you, devour every inch of you, and it showed vividly in his eyes. He gathered Pieck’s hair in one hand, bunching it together in a messy ponytail before he used it to keep her in place, tugging on her roots as if he was pulling on a dog’s leash. Pieck rose back to her hands again, her elbows shaking as she maintained her weight and the pressure of Eren’s forceful thrusts on her palms and knees. He never let his gaze falter away from yours as if he was showing you what he could do, what he was capable of, and what he was planning to do to you later. Your skin burned in anticipation, your stomach somersaulted.

“Ah, harder, baby,” you keened with a sense of urgency. People behind the camera would think you were encouraging Porco with your words but you didn’t even pay single attention to your co-star. None of you did. The world, right now, only revolved around you and him. You were urging Eren to go faster, telling him to fuck her harder, commanding him to show you just how strong and virile he could be in bed so you could imagine him doing the same thing to you.

Pieck finished first and she cummed with a broken whimper escaping her lips. Eren could feel it, could feel the way her walls flutter around his cock, clenching him tightly. You could see how intense Pieck’s orgasm was from her face, and it sent a wave of pleasure coursing through your veins too as if your body mimicked hers in reflex. Your brain kept thinking about Eren driving himself to the hilt inside you.

Ah, I want to cum, you both thought at the same time, two pairs of hazy eyes locked together.

I want to cum inside her.

I want to cum on his cock.

“And cut!” Zeke’s voice rang like a clap of thunder, striking you both and slapping you back to reality. “Good job, everyone. We’re gonna take a ten minutes break before we shoot the next scene.”

Pieck was panting hard when Eren pulled away from her, his cock twitching in his hand, still eager for some heat and friction. Porco did the same, sliding out of you before he went to Pieck’s spot, checking on her face with gentle fingers. “You okay?” he asked, and she smiled in response, completely fucked-out. Her fiancé helped her get up from the bed, casting a menacing glare in Eren’s direction before they both stepped down the bed.

Red bruises were forming on Pieck’s porcelain skin, a shred of evidence that he was holding her too roughly before. “I’m… I’m sorry,” Eren told him awkwardly as he jumped down the bed, stepping away to give them some needed space. He wasn’t sure how to behave around them, now that he knew they were a couple and not just co-stars sharing a scene.

“It’s fine, you were just doing your job,” Porco replied, but he did it through gritted teeth. There was anger, clearly, though not as intense as his jealousy. But Porco and Pieck had been working in this industry for a while. They knew how to keep it professional.

You stepped down the bed when your stylist called you over, wanting to fix your make-up before the next scene. As you walked past Eren, still nude with sweat coating your skin, you let your hand glide from one side of his waist to another, tossing a little inviting smile over your shoulder that left him stunned on his feet.

“BRO!” Zeke slammed both hands on his shoulder, making his body jolt in surprise. “That was some real good fucking you just did!”

“Oh, umm…” Eren was disoriented, still couldn’t detach his eyes away from your naked hips as they swayed side-to-side with every step you took. “Yeah.”

“I never doubted you for a second, bro,” Zeke giggled, almost a bit femininely which came out as nothing but disgusting. “I can't believe I came up with this whole idea. I'm a genius.”

If Eren was listening to him, he would’ve responded with, “Bitch, shut the fuck up, you tried to push me away by saying I had a small dick.” But he wasn’t. He knew how the next scene was going to go, and he was so excited, his brain turned haywire.

The next scene started with the four of you sitting on the bed, not a single fabric was latched onto your skin. You were perched on Porco’s lap, while Pieck was on Eren’s. The two boys were watching your mouth move against Pieck’s in a frenzied kiss before you broke it off. Slanting your lips against Porco’s slightly rougher ones this time, you let Porco taste the cherry flavor of Pieck’s lip gloss. His fiancee, on the other hand, had her tongue in Eren’s mouth, her fingers clawing down his chest before she moved them up to trap his jaw and angle his face to the side. You did the same with Porco, kissing down his neck as you guided him to his right so he could mesh his lips with Eren’s.

Porco kissed him with the rage he was holding inside, making it look like intense desire in front of the camera, when the truth was, he wanted to make Eren pay for what he did to Pieck. The taller male groaned when he felt Porco’s teeth sinking into his lower lip, hard enough to make it bleed. He took a handful of Porco’s golden hair, yanking it back so Eren could dominate the kiss this time.

The foreplay didn’t take longer than three minutes before you and Pieck pushed the boys down to the bed at the same time. With a sultry gaze, you kissed Pieck one more time, crooning, “He’s all yours, baby,” as you switched positions with her. Pieck climbed up Porco’s chest until she was hovering above his face, her palms glued to the headboard as she rubbed her clit on his tongue.

You didn’t just head straight into the game like what the script told you. “Hey, handsome,” you greeted Eren with a coquettish smile, turning down the volume of your voice to avoid getting picked up by the camera. If you weren’t filming right now, you would’ve let your mouth form the words you wanted to say, teasing him over and over, edging him both with your lines and the obscene sway of your hips.

Eren looked wrecked beneath you, his eyes were dazed as he kept them plastered to your face. His lips, red and bruised by Porco’s violent kiss, were parted in such an inviting way.

“Hey,” he rasped, his hand sliding up from the dip of your spine to the spot between your shoulder blades. You knew he was on the verge of saying something, maybe praising you with his words just as much as his eyes were. To stop him from ruining the scene, you lowered your head and captured his lips.

And God, they were soft.

Despite how rugged he looked and how gruff his voice sounded, Eren’s lips felt just as smooth as Pieck’s were, if not more. Even the way he kissed you, so delicate and tender, like a prince’s first kiss which almost stole a laugh from your lips because what kind of prince would do something as filthy as foursome porn?

His hand rose to gently frame your face, lips parting yours ever so slowly. You thought he would consume you with his kiss like any other man did, but Eren was patient in savoring every caress of your lips against his. When his tongue delved inside your mouth, he relished the feeling with a content sigh, his eyes closed shut in bliss, his hand moving to tuck your hair behind your ear so he could see you better.

You both were taking your time in memorizing each other’s touch, tongues slow-dancing in the hot cavern of his mouth that you completely forgot what you were supposed to be doing.

“Cut!” Zeke shouted, freezing you both. He called both of your names, causing you two to turn flustered. You already knew what he was going to tell you. “Guys,” the director said, “You’re spending years just kissing each other like you live in a fucking Korean drama. Get back to the script, we don’t have all day.”

Eren blushed hard enough for his heartbeat to ring clamorously in his ears. He raised his hand to his face, hiding his bottom half behind the back of his hand as he tilted his head to the side. “I’m—I’m sorry,” he told you in a murmur, cheeks scarlet and burning. “I got… carried away.”

Usually, people would apologize for being ‘carried away’ after they folded your body in half or shoved their cocks too far down your throat. But Eren was apologizing to you for kissing you romantically as if it was some form of sin or something you despised.

When it was, truly, everything you ever wanted.

So you leaned down closer to his ear, making sure that your every word grazed his lobe when you whispered, “Kiss me like that again when no one is around. I want you to make me yours.”

Eren’s heart jerked violently inside his rib cages, his flush now spreading down to his chest.

“In three, two, one… Action!”

“You’re so cute,” you commented under your breath before you smashed your mouth against his, making sure to leave Zeke satisfied with the passion you showcased to the camera.

His thoughts were fogged, leaving him delirious until he felt you lowering yourself onto his length. “Ah, fuck,” he moaned, possibly for the first time that night, and he only had his tip inside you. He was quite vocal, it turned out, with his moans and little grunts sounding whinier than you had expected they would be. Your stomach churned and twisted when you realized how much effect you had on him. He wasn’t like this with Pieck before. You wondered if he was ever like this at all. Because now he seemed like he was a thousand times more sensitive, more honest, more expressive.

And God, did he look beautiful.

Sex was always just about money to you. It was never about pleasure, it was never about satisfying your partners in bed. You only ever orgasmed once in your three months of filming, and that was only because you had to finger yourself till you squirted all over your co-star’s face. You never reached your high when you got fucked, never felt like you were even close to bursting in ecstasy, as you were always too focused on getting your job done, on making yourself look pretty on the screen, on performing like you were getting the best sex of your life just to get more viewers and job offers.

But tonight… Tonight you wanted to let loose. You wanted to stop thinking that you had cameras filming you from every angle. You wanted to feel him and let him feel you until you both were flying on cloud nine until you were shaking as you climaxed hard on his cock, until he emptied himself inside you and left your cunt dripping his semen down your thighs when you climbed down the bed.

And you knew he could give it to you. If you had this much effect on him, his on yours was only ten times worse—or maybe better? You wanted him, needed him to give the best fuck of your life. And you wanted him to moan your name as he did it.

You were tight. Even after Porco stuffed his cock inside you, you were still so fucking tight. Your breasts bounced, hardened nipples almost grazed his face as you leaned forward to support yourself with both hands on the headboard. You rode him fast, the bed squeaking underneath you. Eren clamped his mouth eagerly around your bud, moaning around it as his large palms settled on your behind. Squeezing your ass cheeks firmly enough to leave purplish bruises by the morning, he urged you to rock your hips harder. “Oh, fuck, Eren,” you gasped out and you could feel him twitching inside you almost instantly. You never called out your partner’s name in bed and you weren’t sure if it was wise for you to do it, knowing it would make everything feel much more intimate. But Eren moaned in response, and he moaned so beautifully it made you want to do it again, crying out his name so wantonly until it drove you both to the edge.

“Goddamn,” he breathed out with his head thrown back, exposing the column of his throat which you quickly painted over with the shade of your lipstick. “Ah, you’re so—“ You slapped a hand against his mouth, startling him at first before he turned into a whimpering mess. You wanted to hear it, every bit of his praise that threatened to fall out his lips, but you couldn’t afford to ruin the scene again. You were a performer, and that was what you should be doing. You need to perform for the audience.

You didn’t have much time. You were only supposed to ride him for a few minutes before you traded positions with Pieck, as in the script, they were the ones who were paired as lovers. It was only natural for them to have more scenes together than he was with you. This only made you grow desperate. Made you turn possessive. Made you roll your hips harder as you sobbed out his name.

“S-so good,” you panted, watching the way his lips savored your nipple, tongue flicking obscenely against the puckered nub. “I want you deeper inside me, Ren.”

Ren. The word echoed so wonderfully in his ear that it felt like it was invented solely to douse him with joy. No one had ever called him like that before and it was supposed to feel weird, but Eren loved it better than his own name. He loved it even more as it was spoken only by your voice.

But it ignited the flame inside him and he snapped.

Fuck the script, he thought.

Instead of letting you climb off his lap to switch position with Pieck once more, Eren grabbed you by the waist and brought you down to the bed. He raised both of your legs in the air, pushing them forward until your body was split in half. He rammed himself deep as his fingers slipped between your strands, guiding your face upward to meet him in a frantic kiss. “Oh—God—” You choked out, the walls of your sex stretched wide to accommodate him and Eren shivered in the throes of pleasure.

“I’m gonna make you cum,” he promised, switching from pliant nipple to pliant nipple like a metronome, biting just hard enough to increase your frenzy as he drove his cock rapidly in and out. When he returned his lips to your ear, he added, “I’m gonna make you cum so hard you can only picture me when you do this with someone else.”

You could feel it, the way he unraveled the loops inside your stomach one by one, making you lose control of your body. “Fuck me from behind,” you begged him, knowing that it would only intensify your pleasure. “Please—I want it—”

A huge part of him wanted to be selfish and kept you in your place so he could commit every bit of your expression into memory as you reached your high, but he’d fucked up his scene once and he knew he wouldn’t be doing anyone a favor by repeating the same mistake.

With a suppressed growl, Eren flipped you over to your stomach, not letting you catch a breath before he propelled his cock inside you once again. You were pushed forward, your head almost knocking against the headboard with every thrust. Eren was vigorous, and his desire to claim you for himself made him dangerous.

Usually, at this part of the scene, you would be screaming, “Oh, yes! Right there, baby, fuck me just like that!” knowing your watchers would like it better when you were vocal, not caring if it was just an act. But right now you couldn’t. Every drive of his hips knocked the air out of your lungs, leaving you incapable of doing anything else but having your lips parted in a silent moan. You gasped out his name, thighs quivering when you felt your orgasm building up fast. “Eren—” You blindly reached out one hand behind you to seize his wrist, “Ren, I’m—”

He suddenly leaned forward, filling the dip of your spine perfectly with his sculpted chest. He was panting hard, his hot breath fanning the sensitive spot below your ear. He whispered your name once, and then— “Du bist der schönste Engel, den ich je gesehen habe.”

You lost it, feeling like the world suddenly disappeared underneath your feet. Pleasure ripped through you in a way you felt all the way to your bones, leaving you with no strength. Eren wrapped an arm around your front, holding you still right before you toppled to the bed. His long fingers caught you by your jaws, angling your face to the side so he could place his mouth over yours to muffle his deep grunts. “I’m gonna cum,” he told you, his hips stuttering as he landed his forehead on your shoulder.

“Kiss me,” you pleaded in a whisper, “I want your lips on me. Please.”

He groaned, seduced by the yearning in your voice. Circling one arm around your waist and another one holding you tightly around your throat, Eren brought you up until you were standing on your knees. You had your spine glued to his chest, one arm winding around his neck for support. Your mouths collided as a turbulent wave of pleasure hit him like the storm. With one final thrust of his hips, he shot his seeds deep inside you, moaning heavily against your mouth, eyebrows sewed together as he embraced you close enough to suffocate you. You could feel him shuddering, his hips still moving slightly as he rode his orgasm.

“Fuck…” he breathed out, lips lingering on your shoulder. “That felt so—”

“And cut!”

“Oh my God, I’m actually gonna fucking kill him.” You could hear Eren grouse in a subdued tone, which stole a giggle out of your mouth. You both broke away as Zeke walked closer to the bed. You felt his essence trickling down your thigh, mixed with your own slick. Eren watched the way his cum coated your skin, gulping at the sight before his brother smacked his head with his script.

“Stop doing that!” Eren exclaimed, rubbing the pain away from his skull. The beast who was with you a moment ago suddenly converted back into a five-year-old boy, flinging his temper around.

“Follow the damn script, you dumbass,” Zeke said, slamming the script to his chest. He tossed his glare towards you, scolding you just the same.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized before he could utter a word, slightly bowing your head.

“Look, guys,” Zeke sighed, a bit wearily. “I’m all about sweet romance in real life, okay? Go ahead and ask my wife. She’ll tell you how good and romantic I am during our lovemaking sessions.”

Eren made a face at this point, sticking out his tongue in disgust while mumbling, “Eww, what the fuck,” under his breath.

With a flush creeping up his cheeks, Zeke fixed his glasses and continued with, “But we’re making porn, all right? People don't want to see romance. They want to see passion.”

“Was I not passionate enough?” Eren opposed.

“You shut the fuck up. I’m talking to the real pornstars here.”

The younger man rolled his eyes. "Fucking monke."

“I’m sorry,” you spoke on Eren’s behalf, though you found his little pout and protest to be adorable. “It won’t happen again, I promise.”

“It better be. Follow the script, okay? Appreciate your screenwriter. Oluo had his dick in one hand and a pen in the other when he wrote this. Don’t disappoint him. Also,” the director gestured his hand toward Pieck and Porco who were sitting awkwardly on the bed. “You kinda forgot these two existed,” Zeke finished before he strode away. “We’ll take a ten minute break. I need to cry in the bathroom for a sec.”

Pieck had an impish smile written on her lips, eager to tease you about whatever it was that happened between you and Eren before. Porco looked like he was ready to hang himself dead after what he just witnessed.

“Oh my God, guys, I’m so sorry,” you said with a wince, blood rushing fast to your face.

“I don’t know what the hell just happened,” Pieck said, about to break into giggles. “But damn, that was intense. I almost fingered myself while watching you guys. That was hot.”

Porco grimaced. “I feel like I just watched my parents have sex.”

“I’m sorry,” you and Eren both said in unison before your gazes met and you exchanged sheepish smiles.

Porco, noticing the tension, grabbed Pieck by her elbow. “Let’s get away from here before they start fucking each other again.”

As they climbed down the bed and made their way to their stylists, you could faintly hear Pieck ask, “Why do you never fuck me like that, Pokko?”

“Hey, I’ve always wanted to fuck you like that, you know that. I just thought you wouldn’t be into it.”

“Why wouldn’t I be into it? I love romantic stuff.”

“Hard to figure that out when every time we’re about to have sex, you’re so eager to ram a plastic dick inside my ass.”

“Oh yeah, true, I like that one better.”

“What the hell are they talking about?” Eren asked with a frown and you laughed. He spun his head around to see your face contorted in joy, his own lips mirroring your smile, just as delicate and sweet.

“So, umm…” you began, drawing your bottom lip between your teeth again as you looked down, feeling somewhat diffident to stare at him in the eyes after what just happened. “That was fun.”

Seeing you act shy made him feel just as abashed but Eren took the lead by reaching out his hand, carding his fingers through your strands before he tucked your hair behind your ear to get a clear view of your face. “Did it feel good?” His gaze softened as he asked the question.

It warmed your heart. “It did. I’ve never felt that good before during filming.”

Eren’s stare drifted down to your lips. He pressed his thumb against the corner of your mouth, stopping you from chewing on your lip. “Don’t do that.”

“Huh?” You blinked before you understood what he meant. “Oh, sorry. It’s a habit of mine. I used to bite my lip until it got all swollen whenever I felt nervous.” You didn’t mean to reveal something personal about yourself, and it made you feel mortified. “It’s weird, huh?”

“No, it’s…” Eren glided the pad of his thumb across your lower lip, entranced by how soft they were, how sweet they tasted, how beautiful you were. “It’s hot.”

“It’s hot?”

“Yeah, uhh—” He retracted his hand, scratching his nape as he averted his gaze. “Whenever you did that, you looked so sexy, I couldn’t—I couldn’t think of anything else but—” He stopped himself.

“But what?”

He turned a bit jittery before he let out a harsh breath, and the next thing you knew, your mouths met again. He kissed you until his lips were numb, kissed you until he couldn’t think straight anymore, kissed you until you had the hardest time trying to open your eyes, too drowned in the sweetness of his kiss to step back into reality.

“But to do this,” he finished his sentence when he broke away, pressing his forehead against yours as he closed his eyes and breathed in your scent. “You are—”

“Excuse me.” Zeke popped up right beside you, startling you enough to have you jump out of your skins. Your director stared flatly at you both. “Do you guys need anything? A condom, probably? With the way you’re eye-fucking each other right now, you’re gonna get your eyeballs pregnant.”

“I’m—I need to fix my makeup.” You hastily jumped down the bed, your face sizzling hot.

Eren, while strangling Zeke with one arm, shouted before you could walk too far. “I meant it!”

You turned around just enough to catch his smile. “Meant what?”

“The words I said to you.” He tapped a finger to his ear, referring to the time he whispered his line to you in his native language. You were a mess, your face aflame as you quickly pivoted on your heels, marching away from the spot.

Du bist der schönste Engel, den ich je gesehen habe.

You're the prettiest angel I’ve ever seen.

***

Eren’s leg bounces up and down the floor, as he waits restlessly in the silence of the room they keep him locked in during your interview.

When you first arrived on the set, he could hear the sound of your heels clicking against the marbled floor, could feel the way his heart rate just escalated to the roof when your melodious voice echoed faintly through the hallway. He placed one ear against the door, catching the words, “Oh, I’m not allowed to see him until we’re filming the scene? Oh, gosh…”

“Yes. Why, is there a problem?” He could make out Hange’s voice.

“No, it’s just…” Your giggles sounded as pretty as they were nervous. “I’m so excited, my fingers are shaking.”

His flush crept up his face so fast, it left him woozy. Eren was this close at throwing himself on the bed and screaming his feelings into his pillow (until he realized that he wasn’t in his apartment and he shouldn't… act like a thirteen-year-old girl in public).

So I’m not the only one who feels this way, he pondered, sighing dreamily as he rested his skull against the door.

Your interview takes a while and Eren spends the entire time thinking about how to impress you at the first glance. Should he enter the room with his chin tilted up high? Girls dig cocky guys, right? Or should he greet you with a sexy “Hey, baby, you missed me?” Maybe even throw a wink?

Ugh, that sounds so gross, he groans to himself, actually giving himself chills. Groggier than ever, he starts to grind his teeth against his thumbnail. He knows that he should just be himself but being himself means he’s going to act like a fucking lovesick idiot that he is. But you found him cute like that, didn’t you? So should he do that? Keep acting like an idiot? That is not reassuring in the slightest.

And how would you behave around him? How would you look? Do you wear your hair down? Are you dressed in a cute pair of lingerie that makes you look like an innocent little princess like in that video you did with Armin? God, Eren would love that. Actually, you can literally be dressed in a stupid hot dog costume and he would still want to ravish you just the same.

But what if you’re already naked when he walks into the room?

The mental image of you… lying down on the bed… your smile inviting... maybe you'll bite the corner of your lip, turning docile at the sight of him staring at you…

“I’ve missed you, Ren…” he imagines you saying with your hand sliding down the sheets. “Come here and make love to me.”

Oh shit, he can already feel his blood rushing south. Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit—

“Mr. Jaeger?”

“Fuck me!” Eren screeches as he jumps to his feet, his heart rising in his throat. To say that he was startled would be an understatement. “Shit, man, you scared me.”

Moblit is just as surprised, if not more. Peeking his head through the door like a scared little deer, he says, “Uh.. I’ve knocked twice.”

“Right, sorry, I was just—” The brunette clears his throat, taking a deep breath and hoping that the male assistant wouldn’t notice the way his cock is already straining against his jeans. “Never mind. What’s up?”

“They just finished the interview, so, umm… Whenever you’re ready.”

“I can just go to her room now?”

“Yeah.”

“She’s waiting for me there?”

“Yeah.”

“Naked?” Eren can’t help but ask, but the second Moblit sends him a judging look, he quickly adds, “Just ignore me. Let’s go.”

He follows him to the hallway as Moblit explains the procedures. “Hange and I, along with two cameramen will be there in the room during filming but we’re going to give you a few minutes to greet each other before we start shooting. Of course, we’ve set up a few cameras in the room to record your conversation but we want to make it look as natural as possible, so we’ll give you some time alone.”

“Umm… Okay, cool.” Eren’s not sure if it would be better for his heart or not. Probably worse.

They meet Hange on the way to your room. She beams at him, reaching out her hands to fix his collar like how a mother would do. “Who’s ready to have mind-blowing sex?” She chirps, teasing him with a filthy grin.

“S-shut up.”

“You don’t have any reason to be nervous, you know,” she comforts him, patting his cheeks like a child. “She’s just as excited as you are. Just be yourself and show her a good time.”

Her assurance only adds more load to his chest. Hange notices the way he balls his fingers into fists, fixating his gaze to his feet. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know, I don’t think I’ve ever felt this way before,” Eren mumbles timorously. “I’m probably nervous because I’m too excited about it but, like… Everything they told me about how great I am in bed just goes right out of the window right now, and I’m here thinking what if it’s all lies? What if I’m not as good as they say I am?”

“God, you’re so adorable, it's annoying.” Hange groans in the air before she slams both hands on his shoulders, squeezing them tight. “Eren, the first time you held her in bed, you gave her one of the best fucks of her life. Now, you don’t hear this from me, but—” She stood on her toes, whispering in his ear. “She touched herself while watching your videos.”

She did what?!

He can't believe it. His brain actually refuses to believe it. You, touching yourself while watching his videos? Just like he did every night to yours? That's insane. But eventually, the thought sinks in and the second it does, Eren’s jaw drops low on his face, his mind stops functioning. Well, it does help in reducing his anxiety, but now, all he can think about is the picture of you fucking yourself with your fingers, moaning, "Ah, Ren, please, I need you inside me,” preferably with tears coating your eyes.

If Hange squints her eyes enough, she could probably see the way his soul is leaving his body. "I see you're having fun with the mental images I'm giving you."

That slaps him out of his stupor. “She—did she really—she did?”

“Several times, yeah.” She pushes him toward the room, bidding her final farewell with a playful kick to the back of his knees. “So, go in there and have some fun. You both deserve it.”

Eren stops right before your room, facing a double door with his damp palms pressed against the side of his jeans. You got this, he chants in his head. You got this. Just be yourself. Just be an idiot like you usually are, it’s fine.

Taking another deep breath, Eren curls his fingers around one of the doorknobs and pushes his body forward—

Only to have his head knocked against the wood. Stepping back with his nose turning red and throbbing from the pain, a confused frown breaks on his temple. The door is locked.

“Why is it—” It rattles hard as he tries to unlock it, pushing his body forward against the door a few times before he hears your voice calling from inside the room.

“Try the other one,” you tell him, and Eren stiffens, pausing for two seconds before he moves his hand to the other knob. The door opens with a click.

Hange’s laughter rings from the end of the hallway, followed by, “Oh my God, he’s an idiot!”

Yeah, Eren thinks, maybe don’t be too much of an idiot.

***

Next Chapter

Hi, there! Thank you for reading the first chapter of the mini series I've been working on with Sandra from @smfics. I'm in charge of chapter 1 and 2, and she will take over and write the next two chapters. So if you guys haven't followed her blog, be sure to click that button 'cause we'll be posting chapter 3 and 4 over there! I hope you guys enjoyed it ❤️

Huge thanks to my best girl Lisa @imjustsomebodyelse for translating Eren's words for me LMAO I'm so sorry I had to bother you with this. I love you, baby ❤️❤️❤️ I hope you enjoyed the little pokopiku scene I threw in here hehe

Tagging:

@l6ffys @vivi-et @halparkebitch @fwess @littlemochi @thebeardedmoon @didiyogo @coyloves @erenbean @tehehebri @justasketch @infnteen @naiomiwinchester @spiderlingh @doyochii @ahornyenby @aengelren @sakurashell @the-princess-button @resonancesoul @blrqt @cacapeepee @persyhange @jaegersdiary @erentoes @trashgremlin36 @meed18 @j0livi0ni @snowflake-201 @jaymihawk @eva-gates @claudevonstrukesblog @sofijaeger @rinsie @blanccofiie @ereninbunu @natanialora @khinjito @ackersune @watermelon-online @tropicsoda @damselofblueroses @alexackrman @bblgumz @jurrasicpork @erenjaegercult @holycandypizza thank you for reading, lovelies ❤️

[georgiapeach30513]

About boys trip, im thinking all of them😂 Ransom, Steve, Jake, Bucky, Sam, Ari, Curtis, and Frank, Beck, James, Carter, Blade, Chris, Owin, Beau, Joshu, like alll offf theeem. Ransom and his Qs to Curtis hut also him and his bestie Steve. Ransom bickering with Jake, frank opening up a littlel, beau and carter talking about tani man Ad Burd-dee, owin recalling to beck that he will always protect Aster and does not care beck is her moonman, joshua giving guys psychological speech, and Ari and Chris just being them😂 you know the famous Drysdale craziness

Oh this is going to be a HOT mess! So there will probably divergents of all these conversation or groups. So we have got Ransom, Beck, James, Blade, Carter, Chris, Steve, Joshua, Bucky, Sam, Jake, Ari, Curtis, Owin, Beau, Frank...this is going to be a BIG ass Air BnB they're staying in....

🖤🖤🖤🖤

Beebs and Butts

Summary: no good can come of this

Pairings: a lot

Rating: 😂

Warnings: language, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 2.5K

Desperate Lives AU Masterlist

The Boys Are Back in Town Masterlist

“Whose idea was this?” Ransom asks as soon as he walks through the door. The caravan of the younger men hadn’t quite made it to the cabin, and Ransom is just confused. “No good can come of this. They will know.”

“Know what?” Steve asks looking around the large house. “What is there to know?”

“Gee, I don’t know Steven,” Ransom answers sarcastically. “Maybe that you and Bucky have shared his wife. Maybe that we have had a foursome with our wives. Do you remember how that shit got started?”

“You took some edibles and was drinking, you got horny and you mentioned how I was tied up and watched you and Kitten. And you wanted to see Steve’s face when he got to see her?” Jake pipes up, speaking rapidly.

While Bucky and Sam laugh Owin runs down the hallway with his dads. “You did WHAT with Mrs. D?”

“Make it stop. I haven’t had edibles or alcohol,” Ransom’s voice groans while Ari just nods his head at him.

“Nice. Thankfully Frank, Beau, and your son aren’t here,” Curtis responds. “I’m glad you,” counts on his fingers the amount of people involved in Ransom’s shenanigans. “Six? Yeah, the six of you worked things out. It’s good for you.”

“Nothing good can come of this. I’ve got four son-in-laws coming, all of which have children with my daughters. I know how men get when they’re drunk. I am that man.”

“Mr. D, at least they won’t be cumming…eh?” Owin tries to make a joke elbowing at Ransom’s arm.

“You realize that your sister’s husbands will be here, too?” Owin’s face falls flat. “And Beck, and Joshua.”

“What does my son have anything to do with anything?”

“Bucky,” Steve taps him on the shoulder. “Your son…Aster…” he gestures his hands around. “Like, he’s my son-in-law but how do you think he became an expert in couples and sex.”

“That is my daughter!”

“Well…they were friends. She wanted Owin and Joshua to be her Man of Honors,” he turns to glare at Owin who holds his hands up.

“Hey, uh uh, me and Az kissed. She vomited and said my pee pee would be too big and hurt her. And she didn’t want to see it. She has, but she had no desire to see it sexually. It’s different.”

“I’m going to bed. Wake me up when this is over.”

“Ransom Drysdale, you will enjoy yourself.”

“This is going to be hilarious.”

“This is going to be chaos. I agree with the man.”

“Tell me about yours and my wife’s relationship!”

“No!” “Ugh!” “Why does he always ask that?” “Curtis you need to just tell the man.” “Why does it matter?”

____________________________________________

“Why are you and Beau so close?” Joshua asks Beau. A few had went outside to sit around the bonfire. And he had spent a ton of time watching Beau and Blade. “Aren’t you and Harry like ride or dies?”

“Harry has two wives. He’s a busy man.”

“I am. I really am,” he gives Joshua a big smile, but he only cocks up an eyebrow.

“You didn’t answer the first question.”

“We’re not in a session,” Beau starts to speak but Blade just holds his hand in front of him, halting him immediately.

“Interesting,” Joshua’s hand rubs over his chin and he gives them a devious smile. “Do you always follow orders Beau?”

“What?” Harry starts laughing and leans forward. “What is this? Did Blade find a way to be married and still be a whore?”

“Blade would you consider yourself to be a whore?”

“Would you, Joshie? You know, I did model my college years after you.”

“How so?”

Blade normally would never dare speak any of this. Blade normally is sober, and most people leave his bedroom life alone. “Well, I had a few best friends.”

“Don’t talk about my wives.”

“Two of them gave me a sexual awakening. Told me not to be pining after some girl who cheated on me. Taught me how to treat women in times of intense sex.”

“You’re talking about my wives!”

“Another, she couldn’t stay away. The only one beside my own wife to see my penthouse bedroom. Now this sweet little girl if I recall wanted to know everything about different types of sex. She had a crush on a psychiatrist that specialized in sex therapy, and she worried she wouldn’t be good enough for him.”

“You’ve moved on to his wife,” Harry groans, but he can’t believe the show. His eyes darting between him and Joshua, and even a few looks to Beau who just snickers.

“We taught each other so much. I respect the woman. She loves sex, and she wanted to show me. Taught her how to give the best blow jobs. How to ride dick.”

“Ehh,” Joshua shrugs. “Her blow job wasn’t great. I had to help her out a bit,” Blade’s face only falls. “I get it, you were young. I’m still lost on modeling the college years like me.”

“You had that one friend that you had the best sex ever, until you met your wife.”

“Man…Az, she needed me. She liked douche bags, and look what she got. The perfect moon man for her neurotic self.”

“Man,” Blade slaps his leg. “I can’t even try to be mad at you. You’re like Joshua fucking Barnes. I mean, you’re no James Rogers but girls fled to you! They wanted whatever you were dishing out. I wanted to impress James. I wanted to be you.”

“Yep, that’s creepy. Come by for a session, I can teach you some things about pleasuring your wife,” he goes to stand up, extending a hand to Blade, and his head flicks towards Beau, “His, too. Have a nice evening gentleman.”

“How the fuck did he know that?”

“You couldn’t keep a straight face,” Blade looks back at Joshua and then to Beau, “He just insulted me twice. I pleasure both our wives.”

“And I just lay there like a dead fish. Thanks.”

“Wow…this is amazing,” Harry nods his head. “I have…”

“Shut your mouth! I don’t want to hear anything about my sisters.”

“I’m waiting on Iris.”

“You’re never getting my wife!” James cackles from the porch. “That is property of James Carter Rogers.”

“It’s weird that him and Carter have the same name and they’re best friends,” Harry goes to lean back, nursing his beer more. “What’s up with that.”

“His egg donor is a narcissist, and her maiden name was Carter.”

“Oh…okay, that makes more sense.”

____________________________________________

Frank throws a horse shoe at the post, and reaches over to grab his beer. Jake can’t help but stand there and watch him. “Quit staring.”

“How come…I mean…I don’t even know.”

“I don’t like the crowds. I tend to keep to myself.”

“That’s not…you’re a good dad,” Frank turns and looks at him odd. “You love Iris still. Great with her kids. You created a life with a new woman, and you’re son has never got into trouble. How come you didn’t have more?” Frank only shrugs. “I didn’t enjoy splitting my time. One was enough. Plus Ye…she’s crazy. She needs my time.”

“Uh…Beau…and then I had Mary, and Iris came about every other weekend, and uh…yeah. But thanks…I think.”

“Frank! You and the puppy, let’s play some poker. Ransom and Steve had some edibles!” Ari looks outside to see his baby brother. Ari never tells him enough how proud he is of him. “Come on, this’ll be funny.”

_____________________________________________

“Don’t do it.”

“You don’t do it. Take your hand off that phone.”

“You first.”

“But I really want to,” Carter pouts at his best friend. The two had already got a good buzz, and his finger hovers over his wife’s name in his phone. “I always FaceTime her when I’m out of town.”

“How do you do it?” James looks at his phone, tapping on it to see a family photo of them.

“I gotta go to the bathroom,” Carter goes to stand but James pulls him down and both men start hysterically laughing.

“Where were you going?”

“The bathroom,” Carter starts giggling uncontrollably, “I gotta go.”

“Why?” James screams out. His hands pleading for an answer.

“I wanna see her titties.”

“That escalated.”

“You asked how I did it. Phone sex.”

“Ransom!” Chris screams. “Carter is trying to have phone sex with your baby.”

“Oh like you’re innocent. You’ve got pictures of Lucy’s genitals in your shop,” Carter and James high five each other and Chris is now the one laughing.

“That is pictures of my art.”

“Story’s pussy is my rose petals,” he smirks and pounds his head on the table. It takes a moment too long for James to catch it, and then he starts screaming laughing.

“That picture behind your desk! I thought it looked…”

“Familiar?”

“I’ve never seen her pussy. Her tits yes, but a kid is always sucking on it. She’s like my sister. But…that picture of the rose is Story’s pussy?” Carter nods, throwing his head back and laughing. “Behind your desk? Who painted it?”

Carter points at his chest and tries to calm down to tell him more but he struggles. “There’s one in the vault that has her fingers in it.”

“You win. I’ve got a tattoo shop. You’ve got a…her spread pussy you turned into a rose and just popped it behind your desk. Wow. Genius. Amazing. Beck! How do you deal?”

Beck just shrugs. “You mean you didn’t do anything on the space ship?”

“I had pictures.”

“I gotta go.”

“If you go, then I gotta go. And, no go,” James shakes his head at Carter, “We’re stronger than this.”

“You may be, but I’m not. I’ve never gone to sleep without her. I gotta go.”

“Pussy whipped!” James screams after him.

“Every last one of us are pussy whipped,” Joshua walks past slapping his hand on the table. “Alla us. Not one of us better. But I ain’t even mad. Your father-in-law is laid out on the pool table tripping. He’s talking to Curtis.”

“Yeah, I’m good. I gotta call Ris.”

____________________________________________

“Why won’t you tell me?” Ransom whines staring up at the ceiling. He twists his head over to look at Curtis who lays beside him on the pool table and the rest of the men just are dying laughing in the room. “I’m too old for this shit. The room is spinning. If I sit up I’m gonna vomit.”

“You throw up on me, I hit you.”

“Don’t change the subject.”

“You changed it.”

“Were. You. Her. Dom?”

Curtis’ eyes clench closed and he starts laughing. “Why. Does. It. Matter?”

“Just blink if you were,” Ransom slings his head over with a groan, “I knew it! What did she call you?”

“You’ve been married for over forty years. Why do you need to know this?”

“Morbid curiosity. You were there for her when I couldn’t be, man. And that’s my woman. I’m her baby. And she pets me. I like her titties,” Curtis is now the one turning to look at Ransom with his eyes wide. “We have a good, safe, sexy as hell, sex life. Still jumping on the bed. Still making her cream herself. I’ve had her stuffed…”

“Ransom!” Steve yells. “Shut your mouth. That mouth gets you in trouble, and I don’t have a Kitten titty to put in it.”

“I do love her tits. Were you her Dom?”

“Oh. My. God!” Frank screams walking down the stairs. “I was going to bed, now there’s a bonding of Ransom and Curtis. Yes. He was her Dom. Geeze. Gotta listen to this shit for decades. Just fucking tell him.”

“I was her Dom. Ari help me up.”

“Wait…wait a damn minute,” Ransom sits up on the pool table and looks at the two men. His eyes blinking slowly, “Your husband is here. Ain’t none of us with our…Steven! TJ and Sammy are here together. Ari and Curtis get separated and so does TJ and Sammy if I have to be without Kitten everyone else is gonna be without their person. Carter and James just…poof.”

“They’re going to take a ragging from the rest of the young pack,” Steve sighs. “They’ve been FaceTiming their wives.”

“Curtis! Let’s go to bed buddy, I claim you, so we can talk,” Curtis groans, and pulls Ari in for a kiss. “That Little Princess will get pissed. Cut it out. Imma tell her you two wouldn’t quit touching.”

“No!” Both men shout. “She’ll cut our balls off.”

“Good.”

_______________________________________________

“Where the fuck is Harry?” Blade asks sitting up on the couch. He looks at the counter of all the alcohol and sighs. “Who gave him Hennessy? Dammit. I’ve gotta find his sorry ass. He can’t hold it. I know that’s what happened.”

“I need someone to snuggle with. Any takers? Someone who gets nice and cold?” Owin looks around the room and not one person volunteers. “Fuck you all. Sammy boy! Let’s go.”

“I didn’t volunteer.”

“Didn’t ask. Your mine tonight. You are not allowed with TJ. Maybe he should go with Carter and James,” TJ groans. “What?”

“Carter is making a special call to Story. As many times as I’ve seen her tits, I have no desire anymore.”

“I thought you were gay.”

“Yeah. So? Made out with her a few times. Showered with her. Pretended to be her boyfriend. You know gay bestie shit. So no need to see her perfect tits.”

“They are nice,” everyone turns and looks at Joshua. “What? Emy said if she gets implants she wants them to look like Story’s, she agrees. Damn, anyone can see she’s got great tits.”

“Has your dad said something about her tits?” TJ beams at Joshua. Settling down to look at him.

“I guess. Maybe. I don’t know.”

“Ree is gonna love this! Other than Carter, your dad…her crush.”

“Yeah,” Owin settles down beside Joshua, “nobody has better lips than Emy.”

“If you like big big tits…Lo. Geeze, I can see what attracted Blade to her.”

“Az has great legs.”

“And Iris’s ass. Man…there’s some hot women in this group. Eva’s arms. I’d let that bicep choke me.”

“Christopher! That is my sister.”

“Lucy’s talked about her need for that too. I just grab harder to her hips. And pound into her.”

“Lucy’s hips,” Sammy straightens up when Chris scowls at him “Bisexual. I’ve always…well you know.”

“You dreamed about fucking my wife? And you never did?

“She’s just a kid.”

“Pft…I’m older. I’m surprised that chihuahua didn’t catch on to that.”

“I touched her boobs though. She caught me staring. I just want to lay on them.”

“They are nice beebs.”

“Shut up!” Blade huffs walking back in with a passed out Harry. “Everyone to bed. No more beeb and butt talk. None.”

Masterlist

[gointothevvater]

St. Cecilia's OC Interactions

-JD @vicekings: They first met after the SnB reunion concert, and he’s been a longtime fan of hers, and they hit it off pretty quickly. They have literally the sweetest relationship while also being just... Thirsty as fuck any time they're together. They're really good for each other, and there's even an AU where they have a kid together!

-Seonag @fishklok: There’s art of them sharing a kiss under the mistletoe, but I’m not quite sure of how their relationship would go, though I’d really like them to have one. I think they’d be a good match, considering St. Cecilia’s so bold and Seonag is so reserved! (Also a triad with the two of them and Magnus could be really, really fun, lol) 

-Olive @thatwritingho: They've had at least one threesome (Possibly two, and possibly a foursome) together, and I can see them being really good friends once Olive gets over her initial shyness.

-Vektor @deth-of-a-king: He was assigned to be a guard for her for a while during her season four stay at Mordhaus, and despite their polar opposite personalities, they get along pretty well! They’re basically the embodiment of the “someone will die... of fun!” meme.

-Ro @needsmorezass: They shared a kiss under the mistletoe, but I think the’d be better as friends, probably drinking and lovingly talking shit about Pickles, lol.

-Miranda @kawaiibaphomet: They modeled for Dethklok’s Dethfashion line together, and I can see them being good friends! 

-Nikki @frienderbender: St. Cecilia’s kind of a mentor/older sister figure to Nikki! They’ve done some modeling work together and they just have a really fun, funny dynamic! 

-Nita @chordsykat: Nita likes St. Cecilia’s hair! That’s their only interaction! 😂 But I think they’d get along really well! 

-Tamika @little-murmaider: As long as they can avoid the subject of Abigail (And subsequently, Magnus), they get along pretty well! Though I’m honestly not sure where they would have met at all! 

-Bailee @dynamesvirtue: Bailee interviewed St. Cecilia in @dethkomic once! Ceelie’s a total gossip, I bet these two would have such a lot to talk about! 

[daemoninwhiteround2]

Hello dear darling, I hope you are well <3 I was wondering if we could get Dick's POV from that omegaverse foursome where DickJay and TimKon are trapped by villains? The one where Jay & Kon are comforting each other and Dick and Tim were about to tear each other apart in a less fun way? If not, maybe some more of the Trapped Together AU, but only if you're up to it <3<3 <3 Take care of yourself

Ahhh, this nameless foursome fic that haunts my dreams, my sweet summer love

Kon knows approximately three things about Red Hood, and one of those things is that he's seriously tried to kill Tim on multiple occasions. Tim might have moved past it but Kon doesn't have the family pressure to get along so he doesn't have to forgive and forget. He can trust Red Hood exactly as much as Hood deserves, regardless of how nicely his thighs fill out his pants. Kon's fully aware that Red Hood probably has Kryptonite stashed away somewhere and could probably kick his ass without it, and so in the most respectful way possible, damn.

Ok, so, yeah, tagging along on Red Hood and Nightwing's stakeout isn't exactly Kon's idea of a good time, but if it means getting to spend time with Tim, Kon would do a lot more boring and stupid things. He's passed the childish stage of "peacocking but I don't know why so I'm going to call it getting territorial". He's accepted that Tim isn't into him--and Kon gets it. Tim's gorgeous, and so smart, and so strong.

Annnd tragically into blondes.

(Kon's actually thought about dying his hair. It's got that bad. Cassie sat on him while Bart patted his head and told him exactly how stupid he would look, which took a surprisingly long time considering Bart and subjective time. Turns out Bart had a LOT of stuff to get off his chest. It actually ended up being a really nice day even if Kon kind of maybe cried a little bit for a while.)

So, Kon's made his peace with being in love with his best friend. He's not going to be that asshole that wrecks a perfectly good thing, so he's just going to let his feelings run their course and be supportive about whatever stunning, clever blond Tim settles down with.

Doesn't make this any easier. Kon's good at repression--all superheroes are--but the way Tim looks when he's being Red Robin, swinging through Gotham totally confident, totally in control, a complete badass, lit by the flash of streetlights and neon ads...

If Kon was standing, his knees would go weak. As it is he feels a rush of empathy for Clark and his weird four-way UST with Batman, Lois, and (gag) Luthor.

Finally, something happens that draws Kon's attention. Gotham's got enough lead in its existing building material--no wonder everyone here is nuts--that his vision is really spotty, but there's something about one of the crates in the warehouse that keeps on itching at his brain. Sight is useless, hearing is useless, so he closes his eyes and hopes that the three actual detectives aren't looking at him as he takes what he hopes is a discreet inhale.

As an omega, Kon's really good at understanding and identifying different scents. As a Kryptonian--even just half a one--he can smell really, really well. And when he inhales...

Rooftop. Sun-baked concrete even now still retaining traces of the heat. Keep going.

Tim. The material of his suit, his sweat, the shampoo and conditioner he uses. He smells so good--fuck! Concentrate!

Nightwing and Red Hood. The same, mostly. Suit and sweat. Different products. Red Hood uses something sweeter, which is kind is a surprise, but ultimately useless.

Gotham. Bleh. Gross. Generic city smell--gas and concrete and piss. Useless.

Warehouse. Metal. Rust. Salt. Wood.

And that crate... Fuel. Distinctive fuel.

His eyes snap open. "There's Intergang weapons in those crates--I can smell the fuel they use."

They'd found a stash of these weapons a couple of months back: cannibalized alien tech that could shoot a beam of energy that broke down the bonds between atoms. The explosions were horrific. And bloody.

Nightwing calls them over. There's no way they're letting these weapons fall into the hands of some Gotham gang.

//

It's a trap. Of fucking course it's a trap. Kon floats, half worried that they're going to electrify the floor or something. He can probably break out of here - he doesn't see any Kryptonite - but he'd rather not be juggling three unconscious bodies when he does. Bats many be human but they're dense with muscle.

There's a hiss as some gas is released into his and Hood's tank and Kon swears when he turns to see that Hood's stupid helmet has been cracked so whatever fear Joker pollen gas bullshit is flooding the place is definitely going to affect him and

And it's not fair! Tim is stunning, and Kon's absolute favourite combination of "can kick my ass" and "smart but a dumbass but smart". He's so amazing and Red Hood could have ended that before Kon had grown up enough to pull his head out of his ass to realise what he'd lose!

He drops to his feet, stalks forward and pulls Red Hood close. He's not sure what he's going to do, tell at him maybe? But when he pulls Hood in close he gets a proper whiff of him and.

And he smells so good.

Like, like something warm and thick and juicy and good and Kon wants it in his mouth and coating his throat and sliding down into his belly to warm him from the inside out.

So he kisses Hood, slow and steady, curls his hands in Hood hair and his legs around Hood's waist until Hood gets with the program and growls and starts kissing back. He grabs Kon's ass, really digs into the muscle, and Kon purrs at the squeeze. Hood laughs into their kiss and hauls Kon closer, until Kon's core presses up against the cup of Hood's armour.

Sensation zings through Kon, bright and electric, and he's so wet already. He wraps himself tighter around Hood--gravity means shit when you can fly--and grinds right where he's all achy and so, so empty up against Hood's cup.

Their kiss turns wet, filthy, and it's so good but it's not enough. Kon wants a cock in his throat but he wants a cock in his pussy and a cock in his ass because he's so empty and Hood smells so nice and maybe he'll finger Kon while he facefucks Kon but it won't be enough. Kon wants them in his bed--no, in his den, in his nest, him and

And Tim.

Hood breaks off to bite down Kon's neck and Kon shudders, reaches out with his hands and explores the solid, perfect lines of Hood's shoulders. But that's not enough, but he's not willing to pull away from that almost-good-enough pressure, so he reaches out with his TTK and slides three mental fingers deep into his pussy as he sends several more sliding over Hood's body.

"What?" Hood gasps.

"What?" Kon gasps, when he discovers wet, plush folds instead of the balls he was expecting to play with. "Oh, ok, we can share then!"

They'll share Tim and whoever's not tied can get fisted. Or, Kon's got a heap of knotting toys, ones big enough to stretch his pussy out and leave it all pretty and gaping after, Hood will look so lovely with one of those in him.

Tim's going to knot both of them so much he's going to make all their holes go slack and useless and creamy with come. They'll be too fucked out for any other alpha.

Kon leans back far enough so he can get his hands on Hood's chest, which is just as thick and delicious as his back muscles. He's going to be so tasty when his milk comes in. Tim and Kon can help, they can put a toy so big in Hood's pussy that he won't be able to close his legs to get up and then they can play with his tits, suck on his nipples until they're all nice and puffy and red.

There's a dull thud, and then their cage shakes enough that Hood staggers. Kon stabilises them with his TTK but looks up from measuring Hood's chest with his hands--they could probably get him in a bra, right? He'd be so pretty in a cage bra.

Tim slams into the glass--huh, there's a bit of blood there. Is Tim ok?--and it fractures but stays whole. Kon locks eyes with Tim and he's kind of ... Tim looks weird.

But weird in a good way. Kon's legs squirm against Hood's back. He wants to find out more about this weirdness.

Hood slides a hand between Kon's thighs and rubs up in the perfect place. Even though his tights, it's enough to have Kon's eyelids fluttering as his eyes roll back.

Tim snarls and Kon whimpers as he gushes slick so much that it leaks through his uniform and gets on Hood's hand.

Hood chuckles. "Slut," he says affectionately.

Kon shudders and clenches his thighs, as though that'll help.

Tim's eyes widen and he darts to the side just in time to avoid getting hit by Nightwing. Nightwing isn't fast enough to pull the blow and smashes into the fractured glass wall.

It comes shattering down and Kon is flooded with alpha.

He and Hood whimper.

Tim and Nightwing snarl and pounce.

[jincherie]

four’s company | rapline [m]

✘ — pairing: boxer!rapline x male!reader ✘ — genre: smut!, boxer au, poly au ✘ — wc: 6.4k ✘ — rating: 18+ ✘ — warnings: minor injuries (occupational hazard kind), smut: mxm, light (accidental) voyeurism, light hand kink, baby boy reader, sub/bottom reader, dom/top members, foursome, anal sex, protected sex (don’t forget to wrap ‘em, lads and ladies!), fellatio ✘ — notes: part of a fic exchange within the ghostie network, i’m sorry it’s late!!!!! please accept my humblest apologies!!! @bangtanloverboys​ here you go!! i hope it’s not too shitty!!!

If accidentally walking in on your three crushes in a heated moment, not once, not twice, but thrice isn’t enough to capture their attention, then you don’t know what is. You’re about to find out that you’ve had their attention for a while, though.

— posted; 02.01.2021 || masterlist

For what is far from the first time tonight, you feel the weight of a certain gaze.

Well, to be more specific, it hasn’t just been one gaze you’ve felt on you tonight. More like… three. 

You know who they belong to, unfortunately. It’s the same three people that you found in an… interesting situation earlier. On that was, no doubt, not meant for outside eyes. 

Well, you say that, but you feel like that’s just because you, yourself, are mortified. To be honest, the three boxers you found locking lips and making out in the locker room didn’t seem to be all that ashamed about it.

In fact, when they caught you in the motion of fleeing, they’d had the audacity to grin about it! 

Utterly humiliating. You haven’t been able to bring your gaze anywhere near them all day. To make matters worse, you couldn’t even flee to the safety of your home or anywhere similar, because there is a match tonight and you’re needed as a qualified first aid officer. 

Which brings you to the current predicament; sitting ringside and attempting to avoid the gazes of the three boxers seated on the side adjacent. Try as you might, it’s actually a struggle to keep your eyes on the current match. It’s a rookie night, and you feel extra bad since one of the people in the ring is actually a close friend. 

Though, perhaps you should demote Jungkook from ‘close friend’ status considering he is the reason you started working here and subsequently, had the opportunity to stumble upon a certain scenario this morning. Were it not for him and his stupid, pleading puppy eyes, you wouldn’t have a particular embarrassing image burned into the back of your eyelids.

You know that despite his rookie status, Jungkook is quite a naturally talented boxer. Perhaps that is part of the reason that your brain thinks it’s okay to let your eyes stray from the match instead of watching attentively as you’re expected to. The subconscious certainty that Jungkook can handle himself seems to be your undoing, because in a moment of inattentiveness your eyes manage to reach the area you’d been trying so hard for them to avoid. 

As you’d both feared and expected, they are in fact already looking at you. Well, one of the three. It is the piercing gaze of the club's current lightweight champion, Min Yoongi, that bores a hole into you right now. The two accomplices to his side aren't joining him in drilling their eyes into you across the room for now, instead leaning into each other as though they're whispering amongst themselves. 

There's something about Yoongi's eyes, dark and piercing, that seem to always root you in place no matter where you are. His expression, as it usually tends to be, is unreadable. It's a certain kind of neutrality that graces his features, thin enough that you can tell there is something behind it but too opaque for you to be able to discern exactly what. 

You don't even realise you're trapped in his gaze until the sounding of the bell snaps you out of the spell that seemed to be cast over you. Your head whips back around and you see the referee signalling the end of the bout, and just beyond him Jungkook is standing slightly bent over as he offers a hand to his opponent on the canvas. To your alarm, it is only now that you notice the blood dribbling down the man’s face. The reasonable crowd that has gathered is still cheering (Jungkook was quick to rise as one of the fan favourites) and it’s a wonder you can hear the referee’s call above the ruckus.

“Medic!”

That’s your cue. 

x – x – x 

 “You look kind of on edge, man. Are you alright?”

You’re almost too busy staring into your coffee in a borderline dissociative state to hear Jungkook as he calls for your attention. It has to be about the thirteenth time in the past half hour, but you can’t find the energy to be ashamed about it. Mostly because all of your shame and embarrassment are focused on other areas right now.

It had happened again. 

Is it just your luck? You don’t know whether to dub it as rotten luck, because you feel it would be a bit of an insult to the boxers you’d once more found in a suggestive situation.  But considering it good luck feels kind of sleazy, because although you’re embarrassed as hell, all things considered what you walked in on wasn’t a bad view—

No, that thought is stopping there. Any further and you’ll only incriminate yourself and you’ll have to dose yourself with another fresh shot of shame. 

Realising that you still haven’t answered the concerned-looking boy sprawled in the chair to your side, you offer him a non-committal grunt. It’s the best you can do while you take another moment to form actual coherent thought. 

“I’ve never been better,” you say, and immediately Jungkook lets loose an abrupt snort.

“You look like shit, so don’t bother trying to lie. Are you having trouble sleeping again or something?”

You survey him for a moment, touched that he remembers the insomnia that had ailed you for a few months a while back. “Actually, I’ve been sleeping pretty good the past few months.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes, making you squint at him in question. “Oh, I’ll bet you have, considering the things you were saying in your sleep last time I stayed over.”

You simply look at him, wondering whether he’s going to be an ass and continue.  You don’t have to wait long for an answer.

“You were all like, ‘nngh, Namjoon,’ and ‘oh, Yoongi’, and then you said something about Hoseok too but I can’t quite remember, probably because it was so x-rated that my poor baby brain banished it from my memory—”

“Jungkook,” you cut him off, gripping the plastic spoon that came with your drink painfully tight. “Shut up.”

This is most definitely not the conversation to be having in the café barely a block away from the boxing gym where the two of you frequent, but Jungkook doesn’t seem to get the hint. Actually, you’re pretty sure he got the hint and he just doesn’t care enough to heed it.

“You really ought to do something about that crush of yours, bro. There’s three of them, so there’s three times the misery if you sit on your ass instead of—”

“Jungkook,” you attempt to warn him again, glaring slightly this time. You’ve scooped some of the whipped cream off of his plate of pancakes and hold the tip of the spoon back, threatening to fling it at him should he keep talking. 

“—doing something, you know? I’ve seen them practically undress you with their eyes enough times by now that I could fill out a diary with all the incidents I’ve witnessed. Plus, don’t tell me you haven’t noticed how often they ‘hurt’ themselves as an excuse to see you? I really don’t think you have much to lose, especially with an ass like yours—well, it’s nothing like the cake I’m serving, but still, it deserves some praise—ACK!”

Ah, so he has chosen death.

You discard the now-empty spoon onto a napkin, taking a long sip of your drink. It seems Jungkook has engaged his ape brain more today than usual as instead of wiping the cream off his face like any normal human would, he’s attempting to reach it with his tongue. His chances aren’t good, to be honest; though you reckon your mutual friend Jimin would be able to get it from that distance. Dude has a tongue like a lizard. 

“You have Seven Days,” you tell him, struggling not to let a smile through as the amateur boxer whines, unable to reach the cream.

“You have seven days,” he grumbles sulkily, reaching with a begrudging hand for a napkin. “Do something or I’ll expose your ass.”

You roll your eyes, ninety-nine percent sure that he’s kidding.

… 

That other one percent worries you a bit though.

x – x – x 

You take back what you decided earlier— something is definitely wrong with your luck.

“And how did you hurt your knee again?”

“I tripped on the stairs.”

Jung Hoseok, the club’s current star welterweight boxer, sits before you in your little medical office. There aren’t any matches on today, but you’re on shift because the club members are doing some of the more rigorous training; there is an important few matches coming up for a few members, and they all want to be as prepared as possible. As tends to be the occupational hazard, training can often lead to injuries that need to be immediately attended to. 

You can’t say, though, that this is the type you were expecting when you rocked up today.

Hoseok is beaming at you, all sincerity and sparkles. There’s a slight bit of dark regrowth in his hair that catches your eye as you survey him, the crimson ends sticking to his forehead lightly from sweat. He looks every bit earnest and honest as he sits in front of you, but you can’t help but suspect him just slightly.

Because you’re not sure any of the club members have ever made their way to your office for a graze that wouldn’t even phase a kindergartener.

“Well,” you say, trying to ignore what Jungkook had said barely a day or two ago that floats back into your head now. “The good news is, it’s not fatal.”

Hoseok lets out a great, dramatic huff in relief. “Oh, thank god. I was so scared this might have been the end.”

‘Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed how often they ‘hurt’ themselves as an excuse to see you?’

Is that what this is? An excuse to see you? A look spared for the man before you leads you to conclude: probably not. He’s a little too radiant to be seeking out lil’ ol’ you.

“Not this time,” you say, rummaging through your small box of mismatched bandages. Finding what you’re looking for, you turn back around and begin preparing it to place it on Hoseok’s knee. “You live to see another day.”

Hoseok shifts like he’s about to say something in response, but cuts himself off with a surprised laugh when he sees the band-aid you put on him. “Wh—you have Minions band-aids?!”

“I reserve them for special patients,” you say before you can stop yourself, promptly clamping your mouth shut a little too late. Your cheeks… you just hope the heat gathering there isn’t obvious.

Something shifts in Hoseok’s gaze as he surveys you for a moment, before hopping from the bed, testing his knee out like he’d sprained it instead of scratching it. The look is gone before you can fully decipher it and he’s back to grinning brightly once more. 

“Well, if that’s the case, I’ll have to come back often. Wouldn’t want them to go to waste.” Hoseok’s smile adopts a slightly cheeky edge as he makes his way to the door, lifting two fingers to his temple in a lazy salute. “See you later, doc!”

Then he’s gone before you can return the farewell, door closing definitively behind him and leaving the room in silence. 

Are you going crazy, or did Hoseok— one of the three boxers you’ve happened to walk in on twice now—just return your light flirting?

… God, you hope it wasn’t because of the minion band-aid.

x – x – x 

You wish that visit had been an isolated incident, but you had a repeat of it at least twice a week. Each time Hoseok would rock up grinning at your door with some other minor injury, all but demanding a minion band-aid for his troubles. You gave it to him, of course, but you still hope he doesn’t remember you as the minion band-aids guy. 

Surprisingly enough, it isn’t only Hoseok that has been cropping up more often in your day-to-day. You’ve had a few surprise encounters with Yoongi, who lately has taken to giving you a sly, unreadable look before turning away, leaving you in your own confusion. Sometimes you’ll get carried away watching him or one of the other boxers practice, and before you know it he has caught you staring red-handed and you’re forced to flee the room to escape the smug, intrigued look that slips into his eyes. 

It’s after such an occasion that you find yourself in the main locker room, attempting to multitask by looking for a box of first aid supplies hidden in the top shelves and giving your face a chance to cool down. It’s taken you so long to even find the damn box that your embarrassment has all but evaporated by now. By the time your eyes lock onto the scuffed white box peeking over the edge of the highest shelf in the corner of the room, you’re more than ready to snatch it down and escape back to the comfort of your dingy little office. 

Of course, it couldn’t ever be so easy for you. Not given your recent string of poor luck. 

You don’t consider your height to be remarkably anything, and normally you don’t have that much trouble reaching the cookie jar on the top shelf in your apartment but for some reason the shelves in this building are built to cater to giants, and try as you might you simply cannot reach. You’re literally about to abandon the last of your dignity and attempt jumping for it, when there is a light scuff on the floor from behind you and then a firm warmth pressing into your back. 

In all honesty, your brain short-circuits. For a second you think you might have even blacked out, because it takes at least three seconds for you to realise what is happening, and by that time the figure has already retreated back from your form. 

Somewhat dazed, you turn around to see one Kim Namjoon, the clubs leading middleweight champion and the third and final member of those racy scenarios you happened to walk in on oh-so long ago. In his hands is the box you’d been struggling so much to reach, and on his face is a look that somehow blends sheepishness and amusement into one attractive cocktail on his features. 

“Here you go,” he says, and for a shamefully long moment all you can do is stand and soak in the lovely timbre of his voice. By the time you snap out of it, a small smile has begun to curl on his lips. You pointedly avoid looking at the dimples that are beginning to show as a result. 

“Oh, uh, thanks,” you say, trying to make it as natural as possible as you reach and take the box from his hold. “Whoever put it up there seems to have a vendetta against me.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that,” he says, and there’s suddenly something a little secretive about the way he’s smiling. It makes you suspicious, and once more the words Jungkook prattled into your ear a week or so ago come rattling back into your brain. 

Is this something similar to what Hoseok had done? Did Namjoon put the box on a higher shelf?

“Are you calling me short?” For some reason, that’s what comes out of your mouth. There is a slight disconnect from what you said and what Namjoon had said previously, but he seems to make the connection. He tilts his head back and a rich laugh tumbles forth. It sounds nicer than you wish to admit to yourself. 

“Never,” he finally answers, grinning. “Though, feel free to come get me next time you lose against a shelf.”

Your mouth drops open in affront, but he makes a departure too quick for you to respond. His laughter echoes down the halls and you’re left reeling in your spot.

This isn’t what you expected to happen after walking in on a few intimate situations. In fact, this is quite the opposite.

What is happening?

x – x – x 

As the weeks go by, there are several big nights and several big matches. Hoseok and Yoongi, among a few others from the gym, emerge victorious. At this point you’re not too ashamed to say that you spent the entirety of their matches watching the way their muscles rippled as they dodged, swung and wove around the ring. If the last shred of dignity still clinging to you had disappeared, then you probably would have drooled like a dog. 

 The nights tend to go by weight classes, and the next upcoming night is to showcase the middleweight boxers. While Jungkook classifies for the class, as one of the newer recruits he isn’t the first choice for the match—much to his dismay.

It is approximately a week before this big match, in which Namjoon, one of the three men who live in your head rent-free these days, is participating, that you’re woken from your sleep and called into the gym.

It’s your night off, actually, so for you to be called in there must have been a pretty serious injury. You’re proven right when you enter the building and walk into the main room.

Before you can even assess the scene, Yoongi spots you and darts on over. He has a look on his face that you don’t think he’s ever sported before, and it fills you with a feeling of dread. It seems an appropriate feeling, considering what you see when you advance further into the room, towed by the frantic blonde who’d fetched you.

“Holy shit, what the hell happened?!” You dart forward, Yoongi’s grip slipping from your wrist as you move out of his reach. 

Namjoon is seated on the floor in a squat, cradling his left hand to his chest. A grimace twists his features, eyes glistening but face clear of tears. 

To your complete and utter surprise, the familiar tenor of Jungkook’s voice reaches your ears. You didn’t know he had stayed behind to practice tonight.

“We were leaving after practicing a bit later than normal, and some assholes drove past and picked a fight. I think—I think they were members from one of the rival clubs on the other side of the city but it was kind of dark and I didn’t get a good look.”

Your brows shoot up—that’s risky behaviour on their part, if it was actually members of a rival club that did this. Judges of this particular tournament don’t look kindly on foul play.

It would make sense if it’s true, though; a lot of local clubs tend to have boxers in the middleweight range, and Namjoon has emerged from enough matches victorious that he’s actually quite a threat. 

“Let me see,” you say, holding your hands out to Namjoon for him to rest his injured one in your hold. “Jungkook, go get the big tin box with the red cross from my office. Make sure it’s the one with antiseptic and bandages.”

You don’t even need to check he’s listened, because you can hear the frantic, obedient pattering of his feet fading away in the distance as you unwrap the blood-drenched towel from the hand in your hold. Namjoon’s busted up limb takes all of your attention the second you lay eyes on it properly, your stomach filling with an unpleasant, nameless cocktail of sensations. 

“Holy shit,” you say, unable to contain your wince.  “Tell me you didn’t get this from fighting them bare-knuckle.”

Namjoon has enough capacity for humour right now that he lets out a little huff. Yoongi fills you in before Namjoon has a chance. 

“No, though I almost did.” His expression is dark, the heat of his anger reaching you even when it’s not directed your way. “They were probably drinking before coming here, since they had a few bottles they threw into the mix.”

That explains the gashes you’re seeing on Namjoon’s palm— it seems he caught one of the bottles, though you’re not sure whether it was already broken or whether it broke on impact. Thankfully, from what you can see, the gashes and lacerations aren’t too deep and shouldn’t cause lasting damage, but they’ll definitely take a while to heal, and one or two of them look like they will need stitches. 

“Alright,” you begin, sighing softly. “I’ll do what I can to fix this up for now, but you’re going to have to go to the ER, because some of these will need stitches…”

You look up, reading the expressions of everyone in attendance and knowing that they have all reached the same conclusion regarding Namjoon’s immediate fate as a boxer.

“Sorry, Namjoon,” you start, watching his features crumble ever so slightly into a look of resignation. “This isn’t going to heal in time for next week, and you definitely won’t be able to train for a while.”

It’s just as you announce that, that Jungkook returns with your box of first-aid goodies. Hoseok, who has remained surprisingly silent the whole time this conversation has gone on, takes the box from his hold and delivers it next to you. Surprising all of you, Namjoon is quick to look up and pin Jungkook with a grin.

“Well, since I can’t participate—how do you feel about making your Big Boy Boxing Debut, Jungkookie?”

Your friend is rooted to the spot in shock for a solid few moments, before he snaps out of it and an excited if slightly nervous expression filters onto his face. 

“I will defend your honour, Namjoon!” he declares, saluting stupidly. “Count on me!”

Cheesy of him, but you can’t help the smile that tugs your lips. You just hope it’s not too late-notice for him, and that Namjoon’s injuries really aren’t that serious, as you surmise.

x – x – x 

 The week passes quicker than you anticipate, and before you know it, it’s the night of the big match—Jungkook’s first big match, that is. Namjoon had done his best over the days to coach Jungkook on the particular fighting styles of the opponents he normally faces, and to everyone’s pleasant surprise, Jungkook has picked it all up with ease. 

You’re more surprised to say that you’re not even that nervous, as you sit waiting for the match to begin. Jungkook stands in one corner, his opponent from one of the more renowned rival gyms in the other. You prepare to be on standby in case either boxer is injured enough to need aid, but cross your fingers that if anything at least Jungkook will be alright. 

In the blink of an eye, the match begins and the first bout kicks off. Jungkook’s opponent is slightly stockier, likely pushing the upper limits of the weight class, and is the first to make an offensive move. The familiar sound of cushioned gloves making impact rings in the air and you find yourself tensing in your seat as you watch the two interchange blows. 

It’s pretty much neck-and-neck for a majority of the bouts. Some of them go quick, and others seem to consist of the longest three minutes of your life. Still, the match goes on, and the night is filled with the siren song of the crowd and the ring of the bell.

After a night of close-call bouts and baited breath, Jungkook finally emerges victorious. 

Ever the fan favourite, the crowd that has amassed erupt into cheers as the referee declares the end of the final bout and Jungkook is held up as the victor. With the match decided, the club members that had been watching ringside burst up and swarm around the young boxer who brought pride to the gym on his very first big match. The three boxers that usually occupy your thoughts wriggle their way up there too, and it’s Hoseok’s bright tone that pierces the ruckus of the crowd.

“Drinks at ours to celebrate our victor, Jungkookie!” he caws, rubbing Jungkook on the back in something akin to pride. “Members of King Hit Gym, we better see you all there!”

You mightn’t be a technical member, but the way you suddenly feel three sets of eyes on you tells you that you’re still more than invited. 

x – x – x

It’s three hours since the end of the match, and you’re more than a little tipsy.

You can safely say that you haven’t ever been to the house where Namjoon, Hoseok and Yoongi live, but you’re nothing short of impressed. It’s a three-storey townhouse, with three rooms— presumably one for each of them, though from what you’d glimpsed on the way to the bathroom earlier only one of them appears regularly lived in.

It didn’t take you long to ponder exactly why, considering the things you’ve accidentally witnessed in the past month.

Most of your time tonight was spent celebrating with Jungkook as he made the rounds and received congratulations from the rest of the club members. Music thrums through the building, bass vibrating pleasantly through your chest every time you pass the expensive speakers in the living room.

You’ve paced yourself well, all things considered. All you had to do to avoid an early night ending in blackout drunkenness was steer clear of Jungkook whenever he made his way by the kitchen to refill— he’d learnt his mixing skills from Jimin, a verified alcoholic back in the day who spent his time in university trying to throw together his own signature cocktail with the same alcohol percentage as absinthe.

So you’re relatively proud of yourself to only be a little over tipsy at this point in the night. You can’t really say the same for the rest of the club members, though— even Jungkook has reached a point where he is stumbling and giggling. Which, of course, led to the event that splattered drink all over your shirt. 

You’re wandering up the stairs now, mind occupied with everything but what you’re doing as you absentmindedly seek the bathroom to clean your shirt. You haven’t seen any of the homeowners in a while, actually, which is kind of disappointing because you’re really longing for some eye candy right about now. They disappeared about ten minutes ago, and you figured it was just to socialise or maybe grab more snacks but you haven’t paid it much thought since then, and now you’re realising they hadn’t returned to the party yet. 

Reaching the top of the stairs, you pause for a moment to try and recall which room is the bathroom. There’s two of them, you remember being told, one ensuite and a main bathroom. There was also a third one on the first floor, but that was too far for you to attempt reaching it. Unable to remember which door is which, you simply decide to wing it and march on forward towards the first door to enter your line of sight. You’re pretty stable, but your head is kind of fuzzy, so your hand hovers by the wall as you walk just in case you stumble. 

Upon reaching the door in question, it takes you about a second and a half to realise the room you have reached is not the one you want, and another second for the shock to reach you.

Because, for the third time in a month, you have walked in on something you shouldn’t have. 

Except this time, you can’t seem to pull yourself away as fast as you should. 

It’s Hoseok and Namjoon tangled before you this time, in a position much more intimate than the last you’d seen. Their lips are locked, Hoseok straddling one of Namjoon’s thighs with one hand tangled in inky locks and the other rubbing over his crotch, where a prominent bulge makes itself known even to your eyes. Just when you remember that you should really be on your way, their lips break apart and Namjoon’s head tilts back, a sinful, velvet moan climbing from his throat as Hoseok leans to pepper it with kisses. It’s mesmerising, and you forget you’re even there as you watch the red-haired man’s hand climb up Namjoon’s stomach and then slip beneath the waistband of his jeans. 

You come back to yourself when you feel a familiar tightness in your own pants and a throb between your legs— of course, you’re hard. You’re too hazy-brained to even be ashamed of it right now. It does pierce through the fog, though, that you���re intruding on something you’re not meant to see. Like you’re trying to move limbs filled with lead, you start to drag your feet and turn around. 

You barely get a step in before you’re face to face with someone strikingly familiar, and your heart drops in your chest before kicking back into motion at double speed. 

“You always seem to enjoy watching, don’t you?” Yoongi’s question catches you off guard and puts you on the spot— before you can panic, though, his lips curl in a kittenish smile. “It’s alright, we already know you do, baby boy.”

Your heart stutters in your chest, stomach flipping giddily. Your eyes track it with surprising clarity as Yoongi’s hand— strong and sculpted and deliciously vascular, as you’d admired many times before— rises to caress your cheek, and he leans forward until his lips brush the sensitive skin of your earlobe.

“Why don’t you join us, this time?”

You find yourself nodding before you even realise it, but it’s definitely a decision you would make again any other day. 

You feel Yoongi smile against your ear, and then he is pressing a soft kiss to your cheek and pulling back. That same strong hand winds around your wrist and you’re tugged into the room, the door shutting behind you. The two on the bed barely bat an eye at the arrival of their third lover and an extra figure, merely smiling dazedly at the two of you. 

“Baby boy is finally gonna join us?” Hoseok asks, eyes lidded and dark to match the tousled look of his hair and clothes. His words are slightly slurred but the keenness to his gaze tells you he is still very much aware of everything he does. 

Yoongi hums in confirmation, coming up behind you to wind his arms lazily around your waist and rest his chin on your shoulder. “Mhmm. Don’t stop on our account— why don’t you give him a bit of a show to start, hm?”

Hoseok needs no further prompting, a grin all you glimpse before he is diving back to crash his lips into Namjoon’s, hand moving inside his pants and eliciting a deep, throaty groan. It makes your own cock throb in need, and almost as though he reads your mind, Yoongi's voice sounds in your ear once more. 

“You already hard, baby boy? Like what you see?”

Something about the husky quality of the boxer’s voice makes a shudder roll down your spine, a light whine slipping from your throat. Yoongi presses soft kisses to the skin of your neck as you watch the two on the bed undress each other between heated kisses. 

“Want me to touch you, baby boy?”

As though possessed, your head begins nodding before you even think to act on the urge. Yoongi requires no further prompting; he begins to kiss and suckle along the column of your neck while his hands move— one creeps up beneath your shirt to flick a thumb over your nipple, and the other slips down, down, down beneath the waistband of your pants and boxers, until that hand you admire so much is slipping around your cock and squeezing just enough to make you gasp out a moan. 

Pleasure and desire wind together to mix with the tipsy haze in your mind, and you’re more than happy to surrender yourself to the current situation. Slowly, you’re urged over to the bed, eyes still locked on the pair occupied there as Yoongi’s hand works magic on your length. You don’t even bother attempting to stem the gasps and moans tumbling forth because you know at this point it would probably be futile. 

Hoseok has now stripped Namjoon entirely and is making his way down his body with his mouth, pressing a kiss against every inch of golden skin he can reach. Namjoon is quite generously endowed, and you can’t tear your eyes away as Hoseok finally reaches the apex of his thighs and begins to lavish attention to Namjoon’s flushed cock. 

You can feel Yoongi grinding lightly against you as he strokes your own aching member, the two of you observing the show before you with rapt attention. At some point you’re rid of your shirt and the air feels cool against your flushed skin, your upper body leaning back against Yoongi contentedly. The noises spilling from Namjoon’s throat are downright sinful as Hoseok’s mouth sinks down on him with practiced ease.

It’s almost too much for you, really. Almost sensory overload. You’re urged ever so slowly to the bed, and as you sit on the plush mattress you happily oblige as Yoongi begins to undo and remove the jeans that are now uncomfortably tight. Your boxers follow soon after and then you’re joining the other two in their nudity. As though sensing the change in plans, Hoseok pulls off of Namjoon’s cock with a ‘pop’, licking his lips and ignoring the whine in protest that Namjoon lets out. “In a minute, bubs.”

Yoongi leans over to the bedside table to retrieve lube and something else you soon realise to be condoms as he tosses them on the bed between him and Hoseok. 

“Are you alright with this?”

You turn at the sound of Yoongi’s voice, eyes meeting his own— though heady and full of desire, they’re also determined. You don’t doubt that if you say no, he will stop things here.

“Yes,” you confirm, and you watch as a smile pulls over Yoongi’s face.

“Excellent. Now, lean forward, baby boy. This might be a little cold.”

Without question, you allow him to shift and bend your body as needed, knees digging into the plush bedding. Tilting your head up, you manage to meet the eyes of Namjoon, who is in a similar position to yourself, just in time for you to gasp at the sudden cold sensation at your ass. 

You’d think by now you would be used to the feeling of lube— you’re immediately distracted from that though at the sensation of Yoongi’s finger beginning to toy around your asshole. You allow yourself to relax as much as possible, turning your attention to Namjoon and Hoseok and simply enjoying the sensations Yoongi is eliciting. 

Namjoon’s hand raises, cupping your cheek and dragging down ever so gently. Hoseok catches the movement and lets out a coo, eyes boring into your own. 

“Wanna kiss him, baby boy? Go ahead, he’s good at it.”

You don’t need to be told twice, and neither does Namjoon. You find Hoseok definitely isn’t wrong as Namjoon’s lips meet your own, the kiss quickly turning heated as his mouth moves against your own. He swallows down your moans as Yoongi’s fingers begin to stretch you slowly, one by one.

You lose so much time in the hypnotic motion of bodies against your own that before you know it there is a gentle yet firm hand against your shoulder pulling you back from the man before you. 

“Ready, baby?”

You nod, and soon after hear the familiar tear of foil before the head of Yoongi’s cock is pressing against your hole. You take a deep breath in, allowing your eyes to flutter closed as he begins to press himself in and stretch you open bit by bit. The burn isn’t particularly painful tonight, and to be honest sometimes you’re partial to the sensation. 

By the time Yoongi is fully seated within you, you’re almost panting, soft moans escaping unwittingly. Through the fog of pleasure currently addling your brain, you hear similar noises in front of you and realise Namjoon must be in a similar state. Unconsciously, your hand stretches out, seeking contact, and manages to entwine with the large, warm one you identify as Namjoon’s good hand. 

As soon as Yoongi receives the green light from you, he begins to move. The sensations of him dragging against your walls are enough to almost drive you mad, especially at the slow pace he’s set. It isn’t long before he picks up though, and soon rough the slap of his hips against your ass is one of the many sinful noises echoing in the room, muffled by the loud music still booming beyond the bedroom walls. 

“O-oh, fuck,” you moan, barely coherent enough to respond to Namjoon’s seeking lips. Absently, you hear Yoongi’s soft groans and low murmured praises, and it makes your heart skip a beat. 

“Good boy,” he all but purrs, hand caressing down your spine before finding purchase at your hips. 

Time blurs and you’re wound so tight that it isn’t long before you feel yourself approaching that edge, your hand lowering to begin stroking your own cock again in an effort to reach your high faster. It’s one deep stroke that hits you in all the right places that is your undoing, and with a cry you’re cumming hard, spots appearing behind your eyes. 

The sudden tightness around his cock has Yoongi stilling, a low, drawn out groan sounding from his throat as he joins you in your high, throbbing inside you. Your arms are a little too weak to continue holding you, but he seems to be in tune enough that he notices and his own slip around you, easing you into his embrace as he adjusts on the mattress and hums into your skin. 

Namjoon and Hoseok aren’t far behind you, the two of them reaching their own end not long after. Namjoon flops against the bed, spent and Hoseok hops up to retrieve a bin and some wipes to clean up a bit before he too flops across the mattress, smacking Namjoon’s ass as he does and eliciting a brief whine in protest. 

“Well fuck,” you hum, staring absently at the ceiling. Yoongi snorts, pulling you closer, and like they all share a hive mind you’re very suddenly in the middle of a cuddle pile as the other two join in. 

“Beats just watching, doesn’t it?” One of them queries, probably Hoseok— you’re too tired to really discern it. 

“Mhm,” you respond, basking in content. “Four’s company, I suppose.”

There are a few hums of agreement, and then comfortable silence falls over the room. You find yourself smiling as you sink into the most content sleep you’ve had in a while, in the arms of the three boxers who have nestled their way into your heart one by one 

[strafethesesinners]

1 6 14 15 19 for john & coop??

Thank you so much!! Sorry I took so long to get to these!  (ship headcanons meme)

Real quick as a preface of these two, I’m sure most of y’all already know but just in case, I pretty much have two canons for them at this point. One where they’re enemies like in the game until John gets kicked out of the project which is what my one fic is about (which no, I haven’t abandoned I just haven’t updated since Sept. ajfkajlfdlakfjlsaj). The other one is just them hooking up before the reaping and stuff so like, maybe starting about four months or so beforehand and up until then.......(and then what? I don’t know yet we’ll see).

1. Who makes the first move and how?

In my fic verse I have a scene planned out after they get stranded out in the woods while they’re trying to get to Jacob’s Gate. They end up having a little bit to drink. (John gets way drunker than Cooper) they start talking about the uh tension that’s been going on between them and John ends up kissing Cooper. I won’t give the rest away.  In the pre-verse (not really sure what to call these aus tbh) this isn’t strictly canon yet but I have a little scene where Cooper pulls John over for speeding, they end up just flirting a whole lot, then Cooper gives John his number instead of a ticket (great police work there Coop). 

6. Who would they ask if they ever had a threesome?

So there are a vast number of y’all’s OCs that they would definitely ask but if we’re only doing canon characters, this would be Cooper’s list: Mary May, Adelaide (Xander maybe), Sharky, Pastor Jerome, Grace, Hudson, Pratt (Pratt and Cooper don’t get along but he’s still a maybe), Nick & Kim but only together (foursome), Bo Adams, Skylar Kohrs, Eli. (Cooper: “I know I’m forgetting some people but that’s the general list”) The only problem is all those people would say absolutely not to John or John would say no to them (John might be ok with Mary May but she certainly wouldn’t be ok with him). All except Adelaide probably, so she might be their only choice as far as canon characters go. I mean, they could do worse. 

14. When one has a cold, what does the other do?

John’s just the “so no head?” vine.  Ok say they’re a little bit farther along in the relationship and have feelings for each other. John still probably wouldn’t really do much. He might get Cooper some cold medicine or something and like, awkwardly ask him how he’s doing every now and then.  Cooper wouldn’t freak out or anything if John was sick, but he would feel bad for him and probably make him some soup or something. He might hang out at John’s house the whole time, because I think that once John realized that Cooper cared about how felt he would probably act much sicker than he really is. Trying to get Cooper to bring him food and water and stuff in bed. Wanting Cooper to stay there and cuddle him and watch movies with him etc. You can’t really blame him, he’s most likely never had anyone pay that much attention to his comfort and health before. 

15. When they watch a film, what do they choose and why? Who gets the final vote?

I don’t think John would actually even know what kind of movies he likes to be honest, so he would probably let Cooper pick them out. Cooper likes action movies and westerns the most, but he also likes scifi and fantasy. I feel like John would like some of them and others he’d probably consider extremely stupid and would probably say so and ruin the experience for Cooper. Like I think once he did start liking to watch movies he’d be the type to pick apart all the plot holes and like innaccuries and shit.  Cooper decides not to watch any more horror movies with John after they watch a SAW movie and John makes a lot of comments like “now that’s interesting” “hmm not a bad idea, but so impersonal” “I wouldn’t do it that way I’d (describes what he would do instead).”

19. Where do they go on their first date? 

So this would only apply to the pre-verse. Cooper would probably ask John for a drink at the Spread Eagle but John is probably not gonna go for that (although that might be a fun scene to write so...we’ll see) and if so then John will probably just have Cooper come over to his house for dinner. Which I guess would be something John picked up or Cooper would offer to bring stuff. 

[julemmaes]

C’mon, lick it // part two

Thomas Lightwood and Alastair Carstairs modern au

I DID IT, @tyherondaletrash FUCK YOU BITCH THIS IS FOR YOU CAUSE YOU DIDN’T LET ME LIVE THROUGH IT AND YOU’RE GONNA CRY THE SHIT OUT OF YOUR EYES

Everyone else, enjoy it!:)

Word count: 6,146

“I can’t believe those two are becoming old dudes.” Matthew sighed taped to Christopher’s side. They were in front of the entrance of James and Cordelia’s building ready to go and buy the noodles that the blond craved so much, but they had been there for more than five minutes and Thomas was beginning to suspect that soon they would all be going home.

“Leave them alone Math, they are not old.” Christopher replied yawning.

Thomas chuckled when he saw Matthew’s cautionary look, but he felt his eyelids heavy as well and in three seconds his mouth also opened wide and made a noisy sound.

“They just have a job that starts very early, unlike ours.” Lucie defended her brother and her best friend by trying to make it clear to Matthew that ordinary people with office jobs had to wake up at six, unlike people who worked in bars, like her and Math, who could go to sleep at the time the others were getting ready .

“About jobs that start very early.” Thomas intervened by smiling displeased, putting an arm around Alastair’s shoulders, who was rubbing his hands trying to warm up a bit. He found it ridiculous how his boyfriend so stubbornly refused to buy a pair of gloves.

“No. You’re not going anywhere.” Matthew snorted laughing, “And while I have not yet fully accepted your dyed blond there…” he continued nodding to Alastair with his chin, ‘It was just a phase.’ defended the guy, interrupting Math “…I would not want to stay alone with Mr. In Love and Miss. I Still Sleep With My Puppet. I could use real men.”

“The hell Math! It was supposed to be a secret!” Lucie whined, dodging Christopher who tried to stop her and hitting the boy on the shoulder. He snorted again, pushing her back to her place place. The Lightwood between them was holding back a laugh at the ease with which his friend had moved his cousin.

“Shut up, Lulu, everyone knows you’re still a child.” Matthew smirked, calling her with the nickname he knew only her father could use, looking in front of him and waiting for her to answer in kind.

“I’m sorry, but I also have to go in an hour early tomorrow and your mother might kill me if I’m late.” Alastair apologized by speaking quickly so that the bickering didn’t drag on, trying to look really sorry and not show how excited he was to finally go home.

“I’m too tired for a noodles party. Forgive me.” Thomas tried to save his boyfriend by directing Math’s anger toward him, and so it was, because it was as if Alastair hadn’t even spoken when Matthew turned to Thomas and was as disgusted as he had been before when he looked at James said, “No fuck you, I’ll never forgive you, asshole.”

“God, what am I gonna do now?” Thomas cried out in a desperate tone, Lucie slightly jumped at the sound, smiling broadly, “I will never recover from this terrible insult.” Lucie burst into laughter and when Thomas took Alastair’s hand in his starting to walk back to their apartment, Kit greeted them.

“Night night.” Lucie murmured with a half-smile on her lips, as if the fact that they were leaving weighted more on her than Matthew. Well this is really weird, thought Thomas looking at her, before turning and shouting over his shoulder, “Good night, everybody.” Alastair pushed him, as if to remind him what time it was (and that they had already screamed enough) and waved his hand in the direction of the trio, saying with a lower tone of several octaves “Night.”

“I hope you choke in your sleep, traitors.” Matthew cried as he stepped towards them, but staring at the window of James’ apartment. Then he looked at his wrist carelessly, “It’s only three damn, and we’re already so few.” Thomas chuckled interlacing his fingers with Alastair’s.

They walked for a while in silence, as they used to do when they came home after movie night. They lived only ten minutes from their friends’ apartment and driving to cover a so little distance and then not finding any parking was not a thing that tempted either of them.

Thomas was thinking about what he would cook the next day for lunch and was going to ask the other what was better between chicken and a omellette, even though he knew that Alastair would always choose meat over everything.

Alastair gripped his hand tighter, drawing his attention and when he turned around Thomas was grinning from ear to ear, Alastair’s gaze darted away, “Thank you.”

Thomas’ head tilted to the side, “For what?”

“For lying.” he shrugged “I know you don’t work tomorrow.” He kept on looking in front of him, if his cheeks were red only for the cold or even for the embarrassment Thomas couldn’t say. He smiled more widely. Sometimes it was so hard for his boyfriend to say simple things like thank you that he knew that when he did it for such petty things it was only because he was training for when he would really apologize.

“Ah, yes.” Thomas moved a hand in the air, “Of course. And then I’m dead on my feet, too.” he sent another smile his way, hoping to charm him, but Alastair almost seemed to refuse to look at him and Thomas realized that something was wrong because something in his tone seemed completely off when he replied, “Sure.” Alastair face scrunched up.

“What is it?” Thomas asked, curious to understand what was going on in his little head.

“I don’t know. Cordelia seemed distracted tonight.” he answered casually, kicking a bottle that was on the sidewalk, “And Matthew in desperate need of distraction.” he continued by squeezing his eyes when a bus lit up his face.

Thomas was happily surprised, it was not an everyday thing to hear Alastair speaking so friendly of his Matthew. Even when things started to go really well between the two them, Matthew had been hesitant and it had taken a couple of years and a move to convince him that they were made for each other, “Matthew is always in desperate need of distraction.”

“True, but tonight it was notably. Maybe with Christopher in a relationship he feels very lonely.” He hypothesized, finally looking up at Thomas’ face, whose eyebrows shoot up at the sound of his words.

“And since when do you care so much about Math, exactly?” Thomas asked sincerely interested in knowing what had changed in his vision of the blond boy.

“I’m not a heartless being, you know?”

“Still. You’ve never gotten along and it’s strange to see you worried about him.” Thomas said shaking his head still a little unconvinced.

“Oh God, I’m not worried.” Alastair exclaimed like he seemed disgusted just by the idea of it, “I’m just saying that maybe we should do something to distract him.” He said, trying to make it look like it was a normal daily thing he did, plan to cheer up Matthew, failing miserably.

“We?” Thomas asked, trying to get confirmation of what he had just heard, looking like an old man who found out that Santa really exists.

“If you don’t stop being so surprised about this, I’m gonna slap you.” Alastair warned him in a threatening tone as a shiver passed through his body. Thomas left his hand, hugging him, but keeping walking.

“As if you could reach me up here.” Thomas joked with a smirk.

“You’re… you-” the voice came out muffled, hindered by his boyfriend’s jacket, which pressed on his chin. Not that he minded, he was already feeling better than a few minutes before and could feel his fingertips start to regain sensitivity.

“Irresistible? Awesome? Too handsome for this world?” proposed Thomas hopefully, receiving a elbow straight to the ribs.

“Unbelievable.” said Alastair scowling, but still being slightly amused.

If to Alastair the others had seemed to be completely done with life and ready to sleep for eternity, Thomas was the exact opposite. He seemed to be kvelling out of every pore and the way he was jumping around, bouncing him around like a puppet, took a little of his concern away.

“Unbelievably handsome, you mean.”

“No, I meant you’re unbelievably stupid.”

“Ouch.”

Alastair shook his head, grinning, “Either way, if you don’t want to do something all together, you guys could always bring him out. You four could do a thing, like in the old days.” he proposed, shoving him off and putting his hands in the pockets of his jacket. Shortly after, he felt Thomas’ hand slipping into his own and smiled, holding his fingers hoping to warm up even more.

“A foursome thing you say?” Thomas asked, his eyes sparkling with amusement, “I didn’t know you were into these kind of things.” Thomas looked at him winking, but the smile died on his lips when he saw the grin on Alastair’s face.

“I swear to God, if you don’t stop talking shit, I won’t let you sleep with me for a week.”

Thomas scoffed, “You wouldn’t last that long. You’d miss me too much.”

“Two weeks, then.” returned Alastair, not at all frightened at the idea of actually spending two weeks without being able to sleep in Thomas’ arms.

“Wanna bet?” he asked him laughing, probably still thinking he was joking.

“You know I never back down.”

Thomas got serious, pulling his hand out of Alastair’s pocket and, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk, offering it to his boyfriend. “Deal?”

“Deal.” said Alastair without blinking, turning to him and shaking his hand.

“What does the winner get?” Thomas asked without letting go.

“Don’t know.”

“How about…” Thomas pretended to think about it, but the grin on his lips implied that he had kept that particular punishment for a special moment. And it had arrived. It wasn’t strange that they were betting with each other, “The loser does the laundry for a whole month?”

“Yes please. I hate doing laundry.” said Alastair, hinting at nothing more than no intention of losing.

“Oh I know, that’s why it’s gonna be so much better when you drag yourself out of our room to come on the couch because you’re gonna miss me too much.”

“Believe it all you want.” Alastair said, “And don’t think you’re the only one sleeping on the couch. We’ll do a day each.” he added. Thomas was quite gigantic, and he would certainly sleep all curled up on the couch, waking up with an absurd stiff neck, but he also knew that he would never let him sleep on the couch for two weeks. Even because Thomas would lose.

“Maybe we should seal it with a kiss.” Thomas leaned down, taking a step towards him so that now they’re faces were just mere centimeters apart. Alastair felt the hairs of his arms standing up and tried to convince himself that it was the cold, like every time they were out and Thomas insisted on touching him.

“You are insufferable.” he smiled, brushing his lips with Thomas’.

“And you’re irresistible.” Oh my god.

“What’s up with all your flirty little comments tonight?” he shoved him by the shoulder, always keeping him close to his body, not wanting to let him go yet. Their hands still clasped together.

“I studied the adjectives dictionary and thought I should share my new knowledge.” Thomas said, lowering the tone of the voice, looking at him as if his life depended on it.

“Stupid.” breathed Alastair, licking his own lips. Thomas’s gaze snapped down at the movement of his tongue and a guttural sound shook in Alastair’s chest, “I, for example, would have used witless.”

“Kiss me.” Thomas ordered him in a sensual voice and Alastair found himself thinking about what his mother would believe if they arrested him for obscene acts in public, if he had stripped him and taken him right there.

When they got home, the warm air that came from inside invaded Alastair to the bones and he closed his eyes beading of that familiar smell that was a mixture between his and Thomas’s.

He was about to take his shoes off when Tom looked out of the kitchen, handing him a black bag that smelled awful. He wrinkled his nose, slightly turning his head away to escape the smell. And here goes the dream, he thought sighing.

“Would you mind taking the garbage out?” he asked him with a hopeful smile, already wearing slippers. “It’s been there for two days and it’s starting to smell so bad that if a bear came into the house, I wouldn’t be so surprised.” he said seriously.

Alastair raised an eyebrow, taking back the keys he had just laid and the dripping sack. He wrinkled his nose again, “There are no bears in London.”

“Whatever.” he heard the other says as he closed the door behind him.

He started humming, thinking about the closing of the case he and Charlotte were working on right now. He’d been working for a little over a year at a law firm in the City, and this was the first major case she’d ever entrusted to him so far.

He went down the last flight of stairs opening the door to the back of the house, but heard a loud noise coming from the main entrance so, after having arranged the bag so that it could not be moved by the wind, he went to check what was happening.

Once again in the fresh air of a sleeping London, he saw a person trying to get up and stopped at the last step, hesitating, trying to see if it could have been someone dangerous or if they only needed help.

The figure before him grunted, swearing immediately afterwards and with a movement too fast for what seemed his physical condition, he stood, staggering.

Alastair was left breathless, and all he saw was red. A red that had tormented him for years and that occasionally appeared in his worst nightmares, “Charles.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, Alastair felt himself die a little.

It had been months since he had last said his name and years since they had seen each other.

He knew that he had moved to a small town near Basingstoke, but he had also explicitly asked Matthew not to tell him anything else and that time the boy had just nodded, without saying any jokes as usual.

He was wearing a suit and tie, and to unknown eyes he might have seemed fine, but (god damn him) Alastair knew him, and saw what was under the abnormal amount of alcohol he ingested. He knew that something serious had happened if he was in London. In front of the apartment he shared with Thomas. And yet, even though he knew it was something bad, he didn’t care.

He’d already given him too much, he didn’t even deserve a minute of his time. At the sound of his voice, Charles’ eyes snapped at him and Alastair felt compelled to step back, resenting him being so close. His hands started shaking and he stared at him with his eyes wide open. He knew he looked ridiculous, but he couldn’t hide the shock of seeing him there.

He was about to go back, inclined not to start a conversation with the boy who stood before him and Charles had such glossy eyes that to Alastair they could only remind him of all the times he had been forced to lock himself in a room with Cordelia, to spare her the sight of an alcoholic father. He nodded his head as a sign of greeting, his lips reduced to a thin line, turning and grabbing the door handle-

“Alastair.”

He closed his eyes and his breath became ragged. He felt his throat burn and he forced himself to wear the mask he had not touched in recent years and that had made him become someone he was not, made him become a monster.

“Alastair, I…” Charles took a step towards him, putting one foot on the first step, and Alastair’s back slammed into the frozen glass of the door when he tried to walk away. Charles halted, clenching his jaw.

Taking a deep breath, and another, then another, Alastair managed to talk, “What are you doing here?”

Charles seemed to relax, but he still came down the stairs, swinging before he grabbed the railing, “I wanted to see you.”

Alastair almost laughed, but he was able to detach himself from the door, carrying both hands in his pocket, closing them into fists, “How do you know where I live?” He asked in a dry tone, looking him in the eye.

“My mother told me.”

“You’re drunk.” Alastair stated, his gaze never leaving Charles’.

“I wanted to see you.” Charles repeated, as if those five words justified everything. As if he hadn’t made Alastair go through hell the whole time they were together and even after, when he tried to undermine his relationship with Thomas.

“It’s been four years.” his expression hardened.

“Rebecca left me.” one hiccup, and then Charles was holding back the vomit. Alastair turned his attention to the buildings around him, trying not to feel pity for the other.

Did she find out about your secret life and that you were lying to her all this time? , he wanted to ask him, but he just swallowed. He heard Charles sighing with relief and hoping he wouldn’t throw up, he turned to him again, “I didn’t know you were with anyone.” he said instead.

“Yes, because you didn’t bother to ask yourself how I was after you broke my heart.”

Alastair made a choked sound. He couldn’t believe it.

“I didn’t do anything. You built a life in a house of cards without thinking that the wind could blow too strong.” he told him approaching him enough to smell his cologne. The scent threatened to cloud his brain, bringing up too many memories.

Charles stood still, looking up at him, smirking, “How poetic you’ve become.”

“I’ve always been poetic, but you told me to be quiet because you were afraid someone might hear us.” Alastair raised his chin in defiance, and was satisfied when Charles did not answer him. He stood up straight and in a much less confident voice than he would have liked, he turned and pulled the keys out of his pocket, “Now excuse me, but I really have to go.”

“Sure, you’ve always been good at running away when things get tough.” Charles laughed, laughter devoid of all fun.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” He whispered looking at the wood and glass in front of him, trying to focus on the brown streaks and not on Charles, “I didn’t run away because things had become difficult. I left you because you didn’t see me.” he took a small break, “You didn’t want to be with me and that… What we had was anything but healthy, Charles.” He ended up holding his fingers around the keys.

“And that-” another hiccup, “Lightwood is good for you, isn’t he? He treats you well. Do you still push him around, like you used to? Do you boss him around?” Charles asked, with a tone that made Alastair realize he knew he had struck a nerve. “That’s why you’re together, right?” something in Alastair’s chest took life and a feeling that had been dormant for years came to the surface. A feeling he chose to ignore completely.

Alastair didn’t even look at him and opened the door, he growled, “Go away. And don’t come back, or I’ll call the police.” When he came into the house for the second time that night, the heat didn’t warm the frost in his bones, and neither did the cheerful tone of his boyfriend when, leaning against the back of the couch, he said, “Finally, I was going to come down and rescue you.” Alastair didn’t answer right away, he was looking for an excuse, whatever was good to justify the fact that he was out for ten minutes.

He couldn’t have started a discussion right now. Not that Thomas would be mad at him, no. He probably would have consoled him, but in that moment he just needed to be alone and think about what Charles had told him. Convince yourself it was bullshit.

Thomas realized that something had changed in his boyfriend’s mood because he asked him, “Hey, everything’s all right?”

Alastair quickly recovered, blinking and starting to undress, “Yes, yes.” he said distractedly. “I’m just tired.” he took off his shoes, entering the kitchen to get a glass of water. His throat was so dry that it was beginning to hurt.

“Are you sure?” he heard Thomas scream in a worried tone from the living room, then that spark in his voice came back, “Are you already considering how bad laundry would be, for a month?”

He drew two glasses before he thought it safe to speak without his throat, now no longer made of sandpaper, being torn. He came out of the kitchen, heading towards their bedroom, “Sure. ‘Night Tom.” Alastair said to him, rubbing his hand on his face.

“Good night, Alas.” he heard him say. A break, then, “I love you!” said loud enough for night bus drivers to hear it.

“I love you too.” he whispered before closing the door behind him.

Thomas kept tossing and turning on the couch. The blanket he had chosen was making his arms itch and he could not find a position where all parts of his body were on the cushions and his neck was not bent in an uncomfortable position. Changing the blanket was not possible because entering their bedroom risking waking Alastair up was not even an option.

In the morning he would have had an important trial and had to be rested. Thomas was going to throw everything on the floor and settle down, there, when the sound of something falling out of the apartment door and a muffled fuck drew his attention.

His eyes moved quickly to the end of the hall, where Alastair slept undisturbed, “What-?” Thomas stood up when he heard another noise and then someone knocking so softly on the door that for a moment he thought he had imagined it.

He walked slowly to the hall, looking for something to defend himself, in case whoever was behind the door tried to harm him. He looked through the peephole and almost sweared.

He only saw the red hair, but it was enough to recognize the figure of Charles Fairchild. He sucked in a breath taking his keys and opened the door glaring once more at the door down the hallway, pushing back every rational thoughts in a box and ready to do everything in his power to prevent Charles to get to Alastair. The blood already boiling in his veins.

As soon as he was outside the apartment, he regretted opening the door. Charles was obviously drunk.

Thomas clenched his jaw, trying to control his tongue, who threatened to spit insults at him every second he spent staring at the brother of one of his best friends.

“What are you doing here?” he asked in an icy tone.

Charles chuckled, closing his eyes with an almost relaxed expression, “Funny.” Thomas raised an eyebrow, “What?” he asked. “No, I don’t care.” he told him by raising a hand in front of him, blocking anything else he had to say.

He closed his hands in fists, carrying his arms behind his back, insisting not to hit him unless absolutely necessary. His eyes widened, shocked by his own thoughts, opening his hands and crossing his arms on the chest.

The others would have been ashamed of him, because he was not violent, he was the gentle one, he repeated himself in the head like a mantra.

Yet kindness was the last thing he could summon as he watched Charles stare at him with a half-open eye and smelled like beer. “You have to leave before Alastair hears you.” he ordered without so many words. Saying his boyfriend’s name in front of him left a bitter taste in his mouth.

“And why would I do that?” Charles asked, ridiculously, staggering forward.

One thought brushed Thomas’ mind, “Does Matthew know what state you’re in?”

“Matthew.” disgust transformed Charles’ face, “He doesn’t even know I’m back.”

Thomas almost flinched away. He could have never spoken of his brothers and sisters with so much hatred in his voice and he knew that the relationship between Charles and Matthew was anything but fraternal, but he did not think that the oldest despised Matthew so much. That’s why he couldn’t control himself when he said to him with a strong tone, almost spitting, “Go away.”

Charles looked him in the eye and with the more serious expression than he had until then, said, “Make me.”

Thomas grabbed him by the shoulder and pulling him he behind began to descend the stairs quickly. Charles was having a hard time keeping up with him, and a couple of times he went and slammed into his back, but Thomas didn’t feel anything, and he didn’t move a half inch. He heard Charles swearing again and thought that he had never heard him say a dirty word until that night, “Okay, okay, calm down. I’m leaving.” Charles said yanking his jacket out of Thomas’ grasp.

“If I see you even a hundred meters from this house, I swear to God, I won’t be so forgiving, and the next place you’ll find yourself is prison.” he warned him without a glance, as he dropped him to the ground just outside the building.

“You’ve become such an asshole Lightwood, you were so kind before.” Charles bit and stood up and rubbed his wrists, “I remember you playing in our garden with Matthew and Christopher.” he chuckled for the thousandth time, “And after a few years, James came along. How cute you were.” he said with a sincerely happy smile.

“I’m serious, either you leave in five minutes, or I call the police.” he warned him one last time.

“Funny.” Charles repeated.

A vein popped out in Thomas’s neck while he yelled, closing the distance between the two of them, “What?!” He asked, “What by God’s grace do you find so amusing in all of this?”

“You spend so much time following his orders, you’ve become just like him.” hissed Charles, a chill ran down Thomas’ spine.

Everything stopped, “What are you talking about?”

Charles puffed, like he was bored with that conversation, like whatever he was talking about, the whole world knew, “Alastair.”

Thomas stood motionless, “I still don’t understand.”

He was ready to hear some bullshit, Charles wasn’t in a position to have such a serious conversation, and he couldn’t think clearly. For that it took a while when the other resumed speaking, it took a few seconds to really understand what he had just said, “I know him. He doesn’t really love you.” he hiccuped and stopped, “That’s always been the case between you two. You going after him like a lost puppy and he putting up with you because having someone around him is convenient.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Thomas draw in a slow and steady breath, shaking his head.

“Oh my God, you’re starting to scare me.” Charles let out a disbelieved laugh.

Thomas couldn’t hold it anymore, “Go away.”

Charles raised his hands as a sign of surrender and began to walk backwards, looking much more sober than he really was. He smiled, “You should be careful. You could get burned.” Thomas didn’t answer.

And he didn’t answer him when Charles turned around and walked towards High Holborn and said, “Goodbye, Thomas.”

When he opened the door for the second time that night he sighed, hoping that Charles would not come back to annoy them because he didn’t think he could handle a mental blow like the one he just suffered.

They had overcome that problem years before, and Alastair absolutely didn’t need certain doubts to resurface, so he let a smile open on his lips when he heard his boyfriend calling him from the room in an alarming tone, “Tom?” sleep laced around his words, “Thomas, is that you?”

He crossed the apartment, opening the door slightly, leaning against the door frame. He forced the corners of his mouth to turn up, “Yes Alas, don’t worry.” he said, leaning his head against the wall, “I just heard a noise and went out to check that everything was okay.” he closed his eyes, tired from everything that had just happened.

“And was everything alright?” Alastair asked, raising on his elbows. His hair was all messed up and a particular tuft was pulled up, he kinda looked like a rooster. Thomas looked at him and chuckled, nodding, “Yes, nothing to worry about. It was just Petunia.” he murmured referring to the one-legged squirrel who always managed to sneak into the stairwell of their building.

They looked at each other for a while in silence. Thomas was deciding whether or not to tell him, maybe he should let it go. Their lives were going great now, they didn’t need to ruin their night because of this. He would have told him about it another day.

Alastair’s eyes narrowed, questioning, “Do you need anything?”

Suddenly, Thomas couldn’t control what came out of his mouth, and before he knew it, he was moving toward the bed, “It wasn’t petunia.” He sat down, never looking away from Alastair, whose eyes were focused on Thomas’s hand, who was holding the blanket between his fingers, “It was Charles.”

Thomas waited for Alastair to realize what he had just said. It gave him time to decide whether or not to talk about it, but the only thing he said was, “You just lost the bet.”

Thomas’s chest tightened in a press, his eyes threatening to water, “Alas.” his hand lingered between them, resting at the end on Alastair’s arm, who slowly escaped his touch, as if not to offend Thomas, “I don’t want to talk about it now.” he whispered finally, his eyes welled up, mirroring Thomas’.

“You met him when you came down to take the garbage down.” Thomas understood with horror, holding his breath. Alastair’s body fell all the way back on the bed, and he brought an arm to cover his face, but Thomas heard it anyway when he said, “I don’t want to talk about it now.” he took a trembling breath, “Please.”

“Alright.” Thomas laid down next to him, taking him in his arms, while Alastair set himself up so that his back was crushed against the other’s chest.

“I love you.” Thomas said in his ear, putting his cheek on his shoulder, “You know that, right?”

“Of course I do.” answered Alastair, staring at the void before him, “I love you too.” he said before closing his eyes.

***

“I don’t think you should go to work in your condition.”

“And what condition would I be in exactly, Thomas?” telled Alastair, anger flashing in his eyes.

That morning they woke up and very quietly did what they did every other morning. Alastair had gone to take a shower while Thomas was making breakfast, both were so thoughtless that they looked like two walking dead men. This was at least until Thomas had pointed out that he was not well at all and that he could not face hours of trial, even risking compromising the case.

“You’re obviously in shock from meeting Charles and going to court with your ex’s mother doesn’t seem like the best way to deal with it.” Thomas answered him by getting up from the stool and approaching Alastair, who in the meantime was tying his tie in front of the mirror they had arranged at the entrance.

“And let’s hear it, what would be the best way to do it, hmm? Sit on the couch in pajamas all day feeling sorry for myself?” he made a sound of exasperation, bending his tie and clenching his fist, trying to calm down. Thomas went next to him, taking the garment from his hand and placing it back behind his neck, smiling amused, with a raised eyebrow. “I’m not working today, and you know I would stay here with you. We could talk about it.” he told him, focusing on the knot instead of him, knowing full well how much he hated being looked at during these conversations.

“There’s nothing to talk about.” grunted Alastair, minimizing the matter at hand as usual.

“Yes, there is.” Thomas answered, walking away to see the final result. Alastair bit out a thank you.

“No, there isn’t.” huffed Alastair, “It just happened that Charles came back to see how my life was going and to make sure you and I were still together. This is what happened.”

“We need to talk about it because if he told you half the things he said to me, that means you’re gonna let the hate eat you up until it’s too much and you’re gonna convince yourself that what he said is true and you’re gonna walk away from me. And I’m not gonna let that happen,” Thomas said.

Alastair, who was in the middle of pouring himself a glass of water, stopped, laying it all in the sink and drew all his attention to his boyfriend, “What did he tell you?”

Thomas, seeing that he had finally gained ground with that phrase, did not miss the opportunity, “Will you call to get off work today?”

“What did he tell you, Thomas?”

“Will you call?”

“Yes, fuck, yes. I will call.” he answered exasperated, leaning on the table with both hands, staring out the window. “What did he talk about?”

“He thrust high school times in my face.” he saw Alastair lean even more, “He told me that I’m your dog and that you only play along because you need company, in a nutshell.”

“You know it’s all bullshit right?” when Alastair spoke his voice was pained, desperate.

“Do you?” Thomas asked again, “Because I know you, Alas. And I know you know I love you, but I also know that you’re probably wondering how it’s possible after everything you’ve done.”

“I love you too.” rushed to say Alastair completely forgetting what else his boyfriend had said, as if he were afraid that if he didn’t say it, Thomas would leave.

“I know.” Thomas approached him, putting his hand on his forearm, making Alastair turn to him, “I know, and everything that happened at school doesn’t matter. We’ve already had that argument. We’ve already solved everything.” he said with a hopeful look. But he saw in Alastair’s eyes how deep Charles’ words were already planted.

“Yes I know,” Alastair said despite everything, “All that crap about the child with a sad childhood trying to cope with it by taking it out on others. I do remember that one.”

“It’s not crap. It’s the truth.” he said to him as a reprimand, holding his arm slightly, “I chose to be with you. And I choose it every day because every day you give me a chance to see what a great person you are and how much you’re actually worth it. The others may not see you as you really are, but I do.” He touched his cheek, smiling.

Alastair looked at him for a few seconds, and then closed his eyes kissing him. Thomas was right, they had already addressed the subject too many times to return to it now.

“Now why don’t you call Charlotte and tell her you’re not going to work so we can get in bed and do nothing all day?” Thomas reminded him when they broke off, and he was still crushed against him.

“You are insufferable.”

“I made you coffee.” Thomas walked away from Alastair, approaching the stove, “Here.” said turning a teaspoon of sugar in the coffee. He offered him the dripping teaspoon, because he knew how much it bothered Alastair to waste even a drop of that gift of the gods, as he called it, “C’mon, lick it.” Thomas whined when Alastair stood still before him eyeing him with a look of pure love.

Alastair’s smile turned into something else, while with one hand he took the cup and the spoon from Thomas’s hands and with a sensual tone said, “I thought I’d lick something else actually.”

Thomas yelped when Alastair picked him up from the ground, with a bit of difficulty, and brought him into the room laughing. He threw him on the bed before jumping on his boyfriend’s body.

Yeah, fuck Charles.

taglist (if you want to be added just dm me and consider it done, same goes for the ones who want to be deleted)

@tyherondaletrash @clara-sm @cordelia-carstairs-owns-me @tessaherongraystairs @idontgetit-whydoihavetosaymyname @jamescordelias @grxceblqckthxrn @thecerridwen @stitch-kiss @alastairlightwxod @ahiretsinging @allofmywonders @tremendousheadachecollector @tlh-tea

[hotpodsummer]

REVEALS ARE HERE

Hello! Now that reveals are over, a masterpost of all of the gorgeous new fic! Thank you to everyone who posted in this exchange, commented, left kudos. You really made this exchange come alive! 

And By a Sleep, to Say We End the Heartache by laceblade for Srw 

No summary. (Ronan/Tommy)

And they were roommates?! by catpennies for bigpunktapes (biggayghost) 

Lovett was not supoosed to have roommates. This was not the plan. (Jon F/Tommy, Jon F/Jon L/Tommy)

Are You Writing Your Vows? We Don't Even Have A Date Yet. by Srw for Moreanswers24 

Ronan thinks that he's going to get a head start on writing his vows. (Ronan/Jon L)

But maybe we're the same by thetimesinbetween for swishandflick 

"One sec," Lovett says, already tapping at his phone. "Let me ask Ronan if he’s all right with me offering to let you drink from the source, or if he aiming for us to be, like, super super exclusive to the point where no other man can touch me."

Tommy opens his mouth, but Lovett is already hitting send.

Tommy's phone buzzes. Lovett has renamed their groupchat “bloodbag?” (Ronan/Jon L, Ronan/Jon L/Tommy)

close enough to touch by somehowunbroken for HereWeAreAtTheEnd 

They come together naturally, and when it all finally clicks—well, Tommy's pretty sure it's going to be amazing.(Jon L/Jon F/Tommy)

come do a friendly thing by kenopsia (indie) for catpennies 

Lovett shrugged. “I think it probably would have been a lot of fun to see Tommy’s face if he walked in on us in a four way post coital cuddle instead of coming back to change early enough to spook us sober. But it’s not like I still… think about it.”

“Clearly,” Emily said. She pulled her legs up to sit on her feet, feeling chilly suddenly. “Since neither of us are here thinking about it.”

(Ronan/Jon L/Emily/Jon F)

Despite the heat it'll be alright by okaystop for fizzy_smile 

It was hot. (Jon L/Tommy)

A Fitting Room for Changing by SelfRescuingPrincess for laceblade 

He's been holding onto these more-than-a-best-friend feelings for over a decade and a half but it always seems not quite right to verbalize anything specific. He second guesses himself and makes “Dear Diary” jokes instead because self-deprecation is safer. Or he straight up talks himself out of it because at this point it's been so long, and what would he even say? And what would Tommy say? What if he ruined everything? Realistically, Lovett should probably say something before he self-combusts, except the thought of losing Tommy- and the potential professional fallout- is ultimately unfathomable. Unbearable. Unimaginable. So, he’ll forget it. Bury it. (Jon L/Tommy)

Hallmark Moments by Moreanswers24 for celli 

Hallmark and Lifetime wish that they could write a relationship as captivating as the one between Jon Favreau and Emily Black.

But if Emily has her way, Hallmark and Lifetime are going to want to write about another relationship instead.

College AU. Pre-JonJon (Emily & Jon F, pre Jon F/Jon L)

here i am, rock you like a hurricane by fizzy_smile for ruthvsreality 

What is with that devilish glint in Dan's blue eyes? (Jon L/Dan)

home is wherever i'm with you by moonlitelupines for Laliandra 

He turns to Tommy and suddenly it’s the easiest thing in the world to lean in and place a kiss on his lips. Lovett hasn’t let himself think about kissing Tommy, a fact true even before he met Ronan. It felt like he was tempting fate by indulging in the fantasy. Because Lovett was sure that’s all it was ever going to be.

But, this isn’t fantasy. This is real.

~ Or, how an earthquake and a questionably functional elevator help Lovett, Ronan, and Tommy see what's been in front of them all along. (Ronan/Jon L, Ronan/Jon L/Tommy)

i want you to love me/i have everything i wanted by tealwall for waronchairs 

“I want to. Even if we don’t hit it off romantically, it would still be nice to third-wheel with you on the boys’ date.” (Jon F/Tommy, Emily/Hanna, Hanna/Tommy, Emily/Jon F)

No before, you are all I can see by swishandflick for kenopsia (indie) 

As fall rapidly swallows the last vestiges of summer, Lovett prepares to leave, and Tommy desperately tries to hold on. (Jon L/Tommy)

No One Knows Where They Belong by celli for whenlifehandsyou 

Jon and Emily are in love with someone else.

Lovett's going to figure out who it is. (Emily/Jon F/Jon L)

perfect use of an imperfect medium by earnestbros (departureboard) for hopefor46 

Human sexuality is complex! Lovett pleads with himself as he adds chips and guacamole to his order. There’s an entire universe between what you find theoretically hot and what you actually want to happen to your physical body.

OR

Lovett stumbles across Jon's porn search history, and he can't help but notice how much of it is Lovett-and-Tommy-adjacent. (Jon F/Jon L/Tommy)

Reach out and touch someone by hopefor46 for moonlitelupines 

Sometimes, middle school math teacher Jon Lovett's teachable moments are best suited for himself. (Jon L/Tommy)

Save Up All the Days by Laliandra for thetimesinbetween 

What you’re supposed to do is let your marker touch it, spend some time in each other’s company and let whatever strange energy that has connected you settle, find out what kind of mark effects you have, if it feels like something that could become a bond.

What Lovett does is dig out his one long sleeved henley and go to bed. (Jon L/Jon F/Tommy)

Shine a little light on me by whenlifehandsyou for tealwall 

It's been a real long pandemic. The foursome is finally alone together again after over a year apart. There's a lot of sex and feelings to catch up on. (Ronan/Emily/Jon F/Jon L)

Take Me Out to the Ball Game by HereWeAreAtTheEnd for okaystop 

When Lovett was growing up, he had always dreamed of playing professional baseball for the New York Yankees. Who knew a 5’7 jewish kid from Long Island would end up an MLB catcher? In spite of the antisemitism he faced and keeping his sexuality hidden, Lovett found dear friends in the Major Leagues, including Boston Red Sox catcher Tommy Vietor.

When the Yankees and Mets face off at a 3 game series at Fenway Park, Lovett is introduced to team captain and star pitcher Jon Favreau. Can Lovett look past Favereau's polished all-American persona or will his initial distrust and the Yankees/Red Sox rivalry keep him from finding something that could change everything? (Jon F/Jon L, Past Ronan/Jon L, Past Tommy/Jon F)

there's a spark in you by somehowunbroken for alotofthingsdifferent 

As it turns out, finding out you have a soulmate is nothing like it is in the movies. (Jon L/Dan)

this is our place, we make the rules by Sonni89 for earnestbros (departureboard) 

Sometimes it takes a truly ridiculous game to realize you’re all in love. Or, life’s fundamental question: can you gay chicken the gay one? (Jon L/Tommy/Jon F)

with the assist by bitterbeets (ginnydear), ginnydear for SelfRescuingPrincess 

Lovett loses a bet and has to wear a Lakers jersey all day. It causes quite the response. (Jon L/Tommy/Jon F)

You Matter to Me by waronchairs for ginnydear 

Five times Tommy and Lovett engage in non-sexual intimacy, and one time they don't. (Tommy/Jon L)

[secret-engima]

(Whispers) FFXV ten years younger AU; Noctis is like, 10yrs younger than C!Noct. How do you think that would work out???

HGFDSDHGFDS WAIT WAIT WAIT.

I’M CONFUSED.

Do you mean that Noctis is BORN ten years later and the plot still kicks off? Or that Noctis time-travels and ends up ten years younger. I’m gonna assume you mean the former so here we go. I’m sticking this under read more because I am going to RAMBLE LIKE CRAZY.

-The wedding is not a thing. Because Noctis is TEN.

-It is quite possible that he never got attacked by the Marilith, because by the time he was eight, Tenenbrae might have already been invaded.

-That or the invasion was delayed until Noctis got there, which means Luna would be 22 when she meets Noctis and Ravus is 26 so both are WAY more mature and comfortable in their own skin/morals by the time the invasion happens. Ravus does not beg Regis for help but instead helps with the evacuation, Luna is not dumb enough to stop and let the MTs take her, Sylva may or may not still die, but at least she doesn’t take a flame-thrower to the face (might still get stabbed by Glauca).

-Also Gladio is there because he’s like- 21 at this section of timeline and has taken his Crownsguard oaths. Ignis is there too.

-Imma go with my petty side and say that with two adult oracles, an adult Ravus (who was no doubt trained to be a deadly guardian of his sister), a Very Angry Gladio, and a semi-homicidal and reckless Ignis, Glauca has a Bad Day. Maybe dies, maybe not.

-Luna and Ravus escape with teeny Noct and Regis and take sanctuary in Lucis and denounce the Nifs for what they’ve done (Sylva too if she isn’t dead? Which she might be) and the world goes on something of a mass riot because the reason they didn’t attack the Oracles before was for fear of what the public would do if they found out.

-They’re called consequences you morons. You poisoned your cake now eat it.

-Luna and Nyx are a thing. Because Noctis is way too young to even consider it and Nyx finds this feisty Oracle woman who demands to be trained in the glaive with her brother to be Really Hot.

-Luna becomes the Glaive healer, using the Kingsglaive’s movements to disguise her own from the empire so she can still help people.

-If Glauca is still alive, he Glauca tries something as Titus and is murdered by one very angry Luna and one Super Angry Ravus who now has LC magic on top of whatever brand of magic male Nox Fleuret can use (yes I know oracle magic is a girl only thing but MAGIC, the boy has to get something even if its not healing based) because he joined the Kingsglaive.

-Ravus maybe becomes the new Captain of the Glaive? Either him, Nyx, Libertus, or Luche, who is not a traitor because I’ve grown to like him.

-Noctis loves his Shield and his Oracle Sister and Big Brother Ravus, Luna can feel destiny bearing down on them and often cries in private because Noctis is TEN.

-With the world rioting in fury over the truth of what happened in Tenebrae (which I HC in canon was never leaked because the two royals were being held hostage and the Tenebraen people either didn’t know or where being blackmailed into silence with the lives of their beloved royal children), the Nifs take some serious damage to their power base.

-Nifs offer a ceasefire with Lucis to begin “making reparations” with the Tenebrae line and Lucis two years after the invasion.

-Regis smells a rat.

-The rat looks like Ardyn.

-Still, he DOES have little choice but to accept, BUT with the Oracle’s healing and the world public on his side, Regis has way more leverage in this treaty, demands territories be returned and stuff (Galahd included).

-Nifs agree to the terms and come for the signing, Regis doesn’t send Noctis out of the city because as bad as his feelings are, Noctis is TEN and Ignis and Gladio are just young adults.

-The Nifs still pull their invasion nonsense because- well- NIFLHEIM. The Emperor is pretty power mad at this point and is like “if we crush Lucis the dissenters will shut up out of fear”.

-It’s pretty intense. Fire everywhere, traitors making trouble (NOT in the glaive, the Glaive were lured out of the city with leaked reports of a fleet to get them out of the way, it’s corrupt Nobles and disgruntled citizens that do this).

-Without Glauca there, Regis doesn’t die, but he DOES probably get injured and separated from his son, whom Ignis and Gladio take and flee the Citadel, trying to escape the chaos.

-In the chaos of trying to flee the city, they bump into a rookie Crownsguard who just took his oath like- a WEEK ago and he helps them evacuate the prince with his crack shot aiming skills and his knowledge of the city’s back streets (”I like to take photos of the alley cats okay????”)

-The four end up outside the city, separated from all backup, in a hotwired car that Ignis took (”Since when do YOU know how to hotwire a car?” “Since I thought the skill might come in handy now shut up and watch the road”).

-Insomnia doesn’t fall, but the Empire is freaking stubborn and starts a siege or something, so the bros can’t get back in, and since they encountered some Crownsguard traitors in the chaos so they don’t trust anyone outside their foursome and they’re being actively hunted by the Empire ... 

-Who’s up for a road trip?

-Also Regis probably thinks Noctis is dead because Angst and is furious beyond words and Luna smuggles herself out of the city to go wake up the Astrals and ask what to do now only to find out from a really vague Gentiana that the Chosen Lives so she’s off doing that solo adventure playing Hot-Cold with the bros as they run around trying not to get spotted by Nifs and figuring out WHAT TO DO. HELP.

(and this is the point where I could either make this a horrible tragedy about child kings and sacrificial lambs but I hate sad endings so I won’t so have some crack-flavored Fluff instead)

-Cor smuggles himself out to join the search but Ignis is doing his job a little Too Well so nobody can find these bros as they run around and Noctis ends up befriending Titan through the sheer power of his Cute and then Ramuh comes down to see because the Chosen isn’t old enough to take on his destiny except oh look. BBY. and his Granddadly instincts are roused for the first time in Millenia and so now the group has a doting Grandpa showing up at random to give advice and Smite People.

-Noctis continues to befriend just about Anything That Breathes as Big Bro Gladio, Brother Ignis, and his new Brother Prompto cart him around the wilderness of Lucis trying to figure out how to get safely back in Insomnia when there is a siege happening (the Siege is keeping the Glaives busy btw, which is why they aren’t out in force looking for Noctis).

-At one point Noctis gets separated from his bros in like- Lestallum or something and is wandering around freaking out when he bumps into someone. “Sorry,” he sniffles, trying hard to be dignified but also is so close to crying. The figure turns and ... looks at him. He doesn’t like that look.

-Noctis, who has been repeatedly told that he is in danger and needs to keep a low profile, starts to duck away from the man, afraid of being spotted, but then the man is in front of him, blocking his way and there are no other people around and Noctis is shaking and terrified, magic sparking under his skin as the man REACHES for him with a leer- and Noctis sobs and his magic reaches out instinctively in search of help-someone-please-PLEASE-

-A sword goes through the man’s chest, pinning him to the wall and suddenly there is a stranger there. A stranger with crackling, snapping magic that coils around Noctis, old and deadly and wounded but not- not evil. The new stranger turns and looks at Noctis, something cold and confused in his gaze, and maybe Noctis should be terrified of this man with red hair and tacky clothes and what looks like black makeup that’s all runny like he’s gotten it wet or been crying, but all Noctis can think is that someone rescued him, someone is HERE and that man has magic just like Noctis so he must be safe and-

-Ardyn feels like the wind has been knocked out of him less because of a scrawny ten year old cannoning into his waist in a desperate sobbing hug and more because- because-

-He hadn’t expected the Chosen to be a child.

-He had known, conceptually, that Regis’s son was very young but that- that was different from seeing it. From feeling young, immature magic latch onto his in desperation and needy trust and looking down at this tiny child who was already sobbing his heart out into the waistcoat of a MONSTER.

-The Chosen King is a child.

-And Ardyn can already feel two Covenants burning under the boy’s skin.

-The Astrals mean to make a CHILD their sacrifice? They will not even wait until he is grown?

-And Ardyn is not ... sane really, but no matter what he tells himself he still has standards and underneath the screaming of the scourge the old Healer King, the older brother who did more to raise his sibling than their father ever did, rears its head and snarls NO.

-Gladio, Ignis, and Prompto, who are all losing their minds over getting separated from Noctis, find him sniffling but content on the hip of a strange hobo-like man who smiles false smiles and says nothing with a great deal of words and somehow inserts himself into their group and never leaves. Noctis doesn’t WANT him to leave and the three are terribly astonished when Noctis blurts out that this poor man is sick and has magic like Noctis, but his sickness makes him tired and cranky.

-Ardyn is trying not to laugh to the point of tears over such a SIMPLE explanation of the Starscourge.

-Anyway to make an already stupid long ramble shorter, Noctis cutes his way to victory by melting the heart of the Accursed into going “Mine. My Nephew Now.” The Empire overreaches and gets it’s back broken by mass riots and Lucis’s defense and Altissia and Tenebrae both rising up in a bid for freedom, Ardyn gets medical help from a Very Confused Luna and they end up curing the Starscourge through the Power of Cute and the Power of Spite (aka Noctis and Ardyn) and then come back to Insomnia with a defected chancellor in tow who is now fully cured and mostly sane again and utterly devoted to his cute nephew.

-Regis is too grateful at finding his son alive and well despite prophecy to really care about the ex-Chancellor happily passing Noctis candy under Ignis’s exasperated eye every time Noctis looks the slightest bit Cuter than Normal.

[afaimsarrowverse]

Arrowverse: My 25 Favorite Fan-Ships

After doing my favorite Canon-Ships, here are my favorite Non-Canon-Ships of the Arrowverse. Like always . This is my blog, this is my list, it is in no way objective, everyone is entiled to their own opinion, so please don’t reblog or answer just to tell me how much you disagree with me. You can’t quantify love, well except with stupid lists like this, just because a ship is not on this list does not mean I don’t like it - except when it does - so…. yeah, here we go

  25. Snowbertallen (Caitlin Snow/Julian Albert/Barry Allen)

 Hinted at in: The Flash Season 3

 While I don’t really see Caitlin and Barry as a romantic pairing, both of them did work quite well with Julian and in a world where Barry couldn’t save Iris, I actually could see him ending up with those two instead. I always wanted to write a fic about that but never came around to, but this threesome exists in my Arrowmultiverse – read „Multiversity“.

 24.  Coldwestallen (Leonard Snart/Iris West/Barry Allen)

 Hinted at in: The Flash Season 2-3

 This is one of my ships, maybe a little bit guilty pleasure, and I can’t really see this happening in canon, but before I decided to bring Eddie back, I was toying with this idea as endgame for my A/B/O-Arrowverse, after all Leonard works very well with both of them, so yeah, I definifly loved this ship.

 23.  Kalex (Kara Danvers/Lex Luthor)

 Hinted at: Crisis on Infinite Earths, Supergirl Season 4-5

 I discovered this one for me during „Crisis on Infinite Earths“ and was like … why is this ship not more prominent, I mean after all there where some hints of it before. In any way their chemistry is great and it’s a shame that pretty much everyone has given up or fled the Supergirl-Fandom at this point so no one is going to write anything about them any time soon. But maybe someone will once try a Crisis-AU where they will be found.

 22.  Karry (Kara Danvers/Barry Allen)

 Hinted at: Worlds Finest, Invasion, Duet, Crisis on Infnite Earths, Elseworlds, Crisis on Infinite Earths

 I actually prefer them as besties, because they each have an actual True Love in their own universe, but like anyone else, I love them together. They are probably to simelar to work as a couple on the long run, but as female partners for Barry go, Kara is definitfly up there at the top.

 21. BloodArrow (Sebastian Blood/Oliver Queen)

 Hinted at: Arrow Season 2

 I discovered this while working on a Sebastian Blood Oneshot. I reread „Vengance“ and worked their relationship out and remembered how much I always regretted losing Sebastian at this point of his storyline, because those two had a connection. A better one than Laurel and Sebastian actually, and in many ways Oliver was more of an actual Love Interest for Sebastian than Laurel. Not that Ollie would ever go for this, but Sebastian might have. Who knows?

 20.  Tauriver (Tommy Merlyn/Laurel Lance/Oliver Queen)

 Hinted at: Arrow Season 1

 Back in Season 1 I shipped this, because I don’t really believe in love triangles between three people that geniunily love each other. So this would have been the obvious solution. If Oliver and Tommy would just haved shared Laurel or touched it other as well, well, that would have been up to them. I think that given it’s Tommy, Oliver might have actually gone full in for this.

 19.  Timekid (Wally West/Rip Hunter)

 Hinted at: Legends of Tomororw Season 3

 After I saw Rip and Wally do karaoke and get wasted together I was expecting a load of fics, but somehow this pairings seems to have eluded almost everyone. Maybe because no one really cares about Wally? Or because Rip was in bad standing in the middle of that Season? I don’t know, but for me this was a non-brainer.

 18.  Saramaya (Sara Lance/Amaya Jiwe)

 Hinted at: Legends of Tomorrow Season 2-3

 I really don’t know why everyone is going on about Kendra and Sara, when they could be going on about this ship were there is actual tension and actual chemistry there. And Doomworld. Don’t forget Doomworld. Where those two totally did it, you can’t change my mind about that.

 17.  Toliver (Tommy Merlyn/Oliver Queen)

 Hinted at: Arrow Season 1-8

 This ship kept coming and going in my mind, because aren’t Oliver and Tommy more like brothers and than like lovers? In the end I saw the potential for a romantic love between them and stettled on it as something that could have been very interesting if done right. I dabbled a little bit with TommyX in that pairing, but why not real Tommy as well?

 16.  Monwinn (Mon-El/Winn Schott)

 Hinted at: Supergirl Season 2-3, It’s a Super Life

 To bad Winn came back married to someone that isn’t Mon-El, because this is what should have happened, you know? Of course Kara is Mon-Els One True Love, but he and Winn were always great together, and given Winn is open minded and Daxamites are not hetero normative this was what we would have wanted after losing both of them in the same episode of the show.

 15.  Kanvers (Kate Kane/Kara Danvers)

 Hinted at: Elseworlds, Crisis on Infinite Earths, The one and only Season of Batwoman

 I figured out why certain hate groups afflilated with „Supergirl“ hate Kate so much (It took me quite some time to rap my head around this), it’s because Kate is Karas only canonical female love interest and those people just can’t stand that thought. Now sady as gone for good as Batmoore Kanvers was what I would have originally wanted for Kara after it became clear that Mon-El was not coming back to the show. I mean I love Kate, and Kara did flirt back, so why the hell not?

 14.  Irivarry (Iris West/Oliver Queen/Barry Allen)

 Hinted at: The Flash Season 1, Invasion, Crisis on Earth-X, Elseworlds

 While I stumbled over quite a few fics that include Oliver, Felicity, and Barry, I never really found this one, even though it’s much more obvious to me. After all this was set up way back in the first season of „The Flash“ and especially in Season 5 and a certain part of Season 7 of „Arrow“ I felt that it wouldn’t be too much of a stretch for Oliver to visit our favourite Canon-Pairing in Central City and crash on their couch indefinitly which would lead too many interesting things among them this threesome. And yes, again a fic I never got around to write.

 13.  Atomsteelwavevixen (Ray Palmer/Nate Heywood/Mick Rory/Amaya Jiwe)

 Hinted at: Legends of Tomorrow Season 2-3

 I prefere Steelatom and Vixenwave as bros, but as a foursome those four rock the libido and the Waverider. Given how much I do ship Atomwave and Vixensteel and that I also do ship Steelwave und Atomvixen that shouldn’t be a surprise, and you should know by now, that I do believe more partners make (fictional) relationships easier instead of more complicated.

 12. Captains3 (Sara Lance/Rip Hunter/Leonard Snart)

 Hinted at: Legends of Tomorrow Season 1

 Given that Sara and Rip, Sara and Leonard, and Leonard and Rip would not last together, my solution to this would be to get together as a threesome. Which was after all my endgame in my biggest Fanfiction-Verse and turned out to be a smashing idea.

 11.  Eobarry (Eobard Thawne/Barry Allen)

 Hinted at: The Flash Season 1-6 (so far)

 Fanboy Eobard might have come to hate Barry, but a part of him never stopped loving the scarlet speedster as we all know. What kind of love that was may have varied, but this kind was probably among it, and I think that if he would prove to Barry that he could change Barry would always give him a chance, because that’s after all who Barry is.

 10.  GreenAtom (Oliver Queen/Ray Palmer)

 Hinted at: Arrow Season 3-4, Legends of Tomorrow Season 1, Crisis on Infinite Earths

 A very underapprecaited ship that I love dearly. Ray und Oliver together have so much potential. I dabbled a little bit with that, but only few other ever did. Ray would basically be a better version of Felicity, having all what the fans love about their dynamic, but none of the issues that come with her. Also Oliver would date another hero, which is always a plus.

 9.      Elongflash (Ralph Dibny/Barry Allen)

 Hinted at: The Flash Season 4-6

 I frankly never understood why people did not ship them more and there are so little fanfics about those two, I mean it’s a classic love story really. Attraction first, misunderstanding leading to years of silence, meeting again and talking it out, becoming friend and eventually more. I did dabble with it a bit and wish others would have taken to that ship around Season 4 already and not only in the last couple of years.

 8.      Allenbert (Barry Allen/Julian Albert)

 Hinted at: The Flash Season 3

 For a long time I thought that that would be the reveal about Julians problem with Barry. Appearantly so did the actors. Or at least they wished it were. Their hate-love was so enjoyable and fans had their fun with this at least but could have had more fun still. Tom mentoned that was ready to come back to the show sometime back, and while I have little hope for that I still want it to happen so that we can get more interaction between them on screen.

 7.      Winniac-5 (Winn Schott/Brainiac-5)

 Hinted at: Supergirl Season 3 and Season 5

 I am one out of two persons in the world who ships this, but I ship it hard. I wanted Winn to have love, but after it became clear that the actress who played his Season 2 love interest wasn’t coming back, it probably had also become clear that Jeremy did plan on leaving the show, so the writers didn’t bother anymore, but Brainy crashed so beautifully with him so I picked him for that role. And even though I love Nia and Brainia I love Winniac-5 more.

 6.      Olivarry (Oliver Queen/Barry Allen)

 Hinted at: Arrow Season 2-3, The Flash Season 1, Legends of Yesterday/Today, Invasion, Crisis on Earth-X, Elseworlds, Crisis on Infinite Earths, Arrow Season 7-8

 As unlucky as Olivers love life is, maybe that’s the case because the actual love of his life happens to be a man, which he is not willing to admit to himself of course. I mean we all remember the joke about Barry wanting to date Oliver and agree on that probably being true, but Oliver cleary is kind of in love with Barry too. He has been very different with him than most if not all other males in his life so there definitifly is something going on there.

 5.      Coldflash (Leonard Snart/Barry Allen)

 Hinted at: The Flash Season 1-3, Legends of Tomorrow Season 1-2, Invasion

 Leonard flirts with everything that moves, but Barry has a special place in his heart and we all love that. Leonard ist a player however, and makes sure everyone knows that, but if there is one person out there who he would be willing to change for it would probably be Barry. If only they weren’t mortal frenemies and Leonard wasn’t – you know – dead.

 4.      Thallen (Eddie Thawne/Barry Allen)

 Hinted at: The Flash Season 1-3

 Barry und Eddie were crushing hard on each other, there is no denying that. They even had a moment onscreen where the tension between them was aknowleged (remember the sofa-scene?). I saw a pretty accurate joke about the Season 1 love triangle once which stated that Iris felt guilty about having feelings for Barry while dating Eddie, while Eddie at the same time was doodeling Eddie Allen in his notebook and that really nails it, doesn’t it?

 3.      Timecanary (Rip Hunter/Sara Lance)

 Hinted at: Legends of Tomororw Season 1-3

 Sara has many admirers onscreen and out of all her many suitors Rip is the one I would want to see her ending up with. If he wasn’t dead, that is. Rip kind of had a thing for her from day one on and during Season 2 she seemed to realize that she had feelings for him too, but sadly Season 3 ripped them apart (pardon the pun) in every possible way. But there is still fanfic. I just wish there were more of it with them as the main couple.

 2.      Atomwave (Ray Palmer/Mick Rory)

 Hinted at: Legends of Tomorrow Season 1-5, Crisis on Infinite Earths

 This is my Legends-OTP and I am still not over the fact that Ray is out of the show and so is this ship! When Iris und Barry got together on „The Flash“ even my brother was like: „Wait a moment … Barry und Iris are a couple, that means Mick still has a shot to get Ray next season!“ So yeah, no one could deny that their relationship was very prominent in the first two seasons. Sadly it faded in the backround when Ray met Nora Darhk, but in my opinion this would have been the much healthier endgame for him, which is why you find traces of this ship in pretty much all of my Arrowverse Fanfics.

  1.      Westhallen (Iris West/Eddie Thawne/Barry Allen)

 Hinted at: The Flash Season 1-3

 This is how you solve a love triangle, that does not need to be one, when all three parties have certain feelings for all the other members of the triangle: Just get them all together. I mean I love Westhawne, I love Thallen, and I love Westallen, but most of all I love Westhallen. Too bad poly is still a taboo in TV, and don’t get me started on the sin of killing of Eddie and never ever bringing him back not even an alternate version of him or something like that, but yeah in my heart those three were happy with each other and when Eddie died both Iris und Barry lost the man they loved. (And sometimes they got him back and other times they never lost him at all).

[gremlinkween]

Bad Moon Rising

Part 2: Mermen, Vampires, and Werewovles, Oh My! 

Summary: The reader finds and rescues a hurt merman who tells her that his name is Jim. She helps him without a second thought, but his presence might attract the attention of other supernatural creatures she never knew existed. This will eventually be a foursome (Jim Mason x Michael Langdon x Duncan Shepard x Reader) mythology/supernatural au.

A/N: I'm not dead! Instead of just saying that I was gonna do something, I figured my welcome back post would be the next revised chapter of BMR as an apology. I had some repressed memories come up and they were repressed for a reason so that rocked my boat real hard, but hi everyone! I'll get to the asks sitting in the inbox hopefully tonight, but it might have to be tomorrow. So for the new readers, the last one of the foursome is introduced, but we’ll get to actually see more of Michael and Duncan in the next part. There is an oc in here, Rory, that we’ll see more later. I’ve had him for awhile and he’s actually one of my fave characters ever. You can totally imagine Cillian Murphy for him. Again, if you want to be on the tag list, just hit me up and let me know what you think!

Warnings: No smut yet, sorry. There is blood, injury, mentions of mental illness, depression, crying, concern about having a total break from reality.

Word Count: 2.3k

Tagging List: @langdonsinferno, and @moonagecordelia and remember, my tag list is all sorts of messed up so please lmk if you want to be on it! either for this story or all my work! 

Previous Parts: Part 1

“I thought that vampires fed off of humans? Why did he go for you instead of me?”

“Well, yeah, vampires feed off of humans, but that’s not their only food source. Faerie blood is actually more nutritious and flavorful for vampires, just humans are more readily available and easier to hunt. He probably smelt my blood and sought me out.”

“… Wow, I mean makes sense, I guess?” It really didn’t, nothing made sense to her, but also Jim could tell her that the sky was actually purple and the ocean was orange, and she’d believe him at this point.

“You should probably take care of him.”

“Yeah, probably. Do I need something stronger than rope.”

He scoffed, “Yes, probably something more like a stake through the heart.”

She looked to the darkly angelic figure passed out on the floor. He looked helpless now, and she could see that the wounds that were on the cat adorned and tarnished his skin. He was hurt, and probably just looking for a way to heal himself. She felt bad, but on the other hand, Jim was in danger. So was she. This was fucked up. “No.”

Jim gave her a look like she might be insane.

“I said no. He’s just trying to survive like you. I’ll get like, chains or something. That should hold him?”

Jim looked at her with such bewilderment, she felt like she was the weird one in the room. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. It’s probably going to end badly.”

She was still looking at the vampire. Probably, she was thinking, but that’s not what she said. “I think it’s going to be fine.”

“…. Okay, if you say so.” Jim was still so unsure of this. “Just move him please.”

“Yeah, no problem.”

—————————

Moving the vampire that was nearly double her size wasn’t an easy feat, but she did it. Thank god for the hauls of fish she’s been lugging around her whole life or this might actually be impossible. She had him propped up against the support beam in the living room. That was the sturdiest place in her house she could think of, but you knew you needed to move fast. There was no telling how much time you had before he woke up, and she couldn’t imagine he’d be happy when he did. Now, the next problem was finding chains and a lock that was probably heavy duty enough. She figured the boatyard, but she’d really have to move her ass.

She grabbed the keys to her dad’s old beat up pick up truck and a jacket and hurried out the door. She was humming to herself in a tense song, a habit she did out of nervousness, and fumbled with the keys.

“Hi there, Y/N, a little la-” a familiar voice called, but with the night’s events, she was already under so much pressure, and she yelped and nearly threw the keys. “Didn’t mean to startle you.”

“Hi, Rory. Sorry, it’s been a night.” Oh Rory, the older Irish gentleman that ran the dock’s favorite bar to go to in the evening, and her next door neighbor. She had known him her whole life, a steady constant in this crazy shit show her life had been these past couple of months. She really wasn't alarmed with him being out so late. With his business, he always had been a night owl.

“I can see that,” his thick accent rang out with a chuckle, and she blanched for a second. “Dragging in buckets of sea water?”

“It’s an art project,” She answered maybe a little too fast and he cocked an eyebrow. “You know, for processing trauma. I read about it.”

“Okay then, Y/N,” he was unsure, but he was going to drop it. He knew grief made people do some strange things sometimes. 

“I’m going out for more things.” She didn’t know when to stop talking apparently.

“Well, good luck with that at 3 am. Just be careful,” he wished her well, “It’s a full moon, all the crazies are out tonight.”

She just chuckled uneasily, if she could only tell him. “Will do, you get some rest.”

“You too, dear.”

She was finally able to get the truck open and started, and she sped off to the boatyard.

————————————

The yard was desolate and particularly eerily this night. Mist from the water was creeping over the place and gave it an all too fitting gothic appearance. She really wished that the world would stop being so poetic for a change. She found herself pulling her jacket tighter as she walked in between the older and busted up boats, something making the hair on the back of her neck stand up on end. A presence was following her, but she was all too tired of the night's weirdness to give into the thought. Surely, tonight couldn't get weirder. 

She had to kick the door down to the supply shed, but she doubted anyone would really care. This was the forgotten side of town anyway. She found heavy duty chains and a padlock fairly quickly, a feeling of satisfaction filled her that was quickly overshadowed by something else. Her head whipped up to the door and then to the window. She saw nothing, but she swore she felt eyes on her. Very intent eyes. God damn it. At this point, she was just hoping for another human.

The best thing to do was just get the hell out of there regardless, she decided, and without actually breaking into a run, she moved as fast as she could.

Outside, she swore she hear footsteps of something. It was much too big to be a person, but she didn’t know what it could be. Could be anything. She didn't know, and she was getting tired of this one night getting so fucking weird. There was an idea trying to creep into her mind, one that she was trying to violently shut out. She actually might just give up if she was right.

There was a movement and then a soft growl. She blanched again, but sighed. Of course. No, of course this would be the night that even more insane shit has to happen. She turned to the boat she saw the movement coming from and her eyes widened, yet she was somehow not surprised. A giant wolf monster sat perched up on the cabin and she nodded. “Sure. Yep. This might as well happen. Let’s just get this over with.”

It glowered at her as it crept down and off the boat, but in the bright moonlight, she saw the deep wounds ruining the lay of the coat. It growled again and began to stand on this back legs, standing at it’s full eight foot height, but she held dropped the chains and held up her hands. “Don’t even think about it, buddy,” she said firmly and the wolf’s ears pitched forward, clearly curious about the lack of fear.

“I’ve got a hurt merman and a vampire I need to restrain soon or he’s going to try to eat the merman at home. I see that you’re hurt. I can take care of you, but I need you to stop being a dick.”

It looked like it was debating something it’s head before settling down on all fours and cautiously moved towards her before gently nuzzling into her neck, smelling and licking her, she figured that this was some kind of greeting that werewolves had, but he was being friendly, but she just rolled with it. It was that kind of night that was already weird enough. She scratched behind it’s ears and it practically mewled and she had to smile, that was pretty cute.

“Come on, let’s go. I have to get back before the vampire wakes up.”

He limped along with her, and she had to help the poor thing up into the bed of the truck, but he was behaving quite well. She covered him up, with one of the tarps she used for the fish, and hopped in. Hopefully, she wasn’t too late, and she felt worry pit itself in her stomach.

———————————————–

She had to make sure the lights on in Rory’s house were off before she uncovered the newest friend and boy from her truck and hurried him into the house.

The first thing she did was check to make sure that the vampire was still out and passed out where she left him. Thankfully, he was, and she was able to breathe a sigh of relief. She went back to the kitchen as the werewolf began sniffing around. “Go upstairs, it’s the room with the lights on.”

The wolf looked at her uneasily, but he relented and sulked up the stairs on all fours, looking over its’ shoulders at her.

She grabbed the chains and quickly secured the vampire to the post. There was a moment that nearly had her passing out, his nose flared a couple of times when she got closer, but luckily that was his only response to her.

She didn’t waste anymore time though, grabbed the medical box for the third time tonight, and she was running up the stairs. Once she reached the top of the stairs, she saw the large furry head pop out of the doorway. It was odd to have such a large creature in her house, but she didn’t think about that just yet. She sat the box down on the desk and she heard it growl softly.

“Come on, I know this is going to hurt a little bit, but,” the wolf cut her off with another, more aggressive growl.

“Uhhh, Y/N,” Jim called from the bathroom. “What was that?”

She turned around and went to the door. “I might have made another new friend tonight.” The wolf’s head popped into sight from the door to look at where the other voice came from out of curiosity, and Jim went white.

“That’s an alpha werewolf.”

She grunted as he pushed his way into the bathroom and began smelling and licking at Jim’s neck like he had done with her, and Jim couldn’t help the giggles that escaped his mouth and it only encouraged the wolf to tickle him more, but he eventually pushed him off gently.

Jim smiled shyly at the wolf before looking to her again. “Why was he growling at you?”

“I was just getting ready to stitch up his wounds.”

The monstrous animal’s ears pinned back at the word and Jim swatted his muzzle, startling the wolf.

“Be nice. She doesn’t know anything and you can’t talk in that form,” Jim chided with a small smile.

“You don’t need to rub it in!” She was almost defensive, but Jim was laughing.

“Werewolves don’t need stitches, particularly alphas. He’ll be fine by tomorrow night, you won’t even know that he was hurt.”

She nodded, but then stopped. “Why did he come with me then? If he didn’t need help.”

Jim’s eyes were practically shining with mischief. “He probably thinks you’re cute.”

She was bright red now and she looked at the clear amusement both of them had.

“Or he had other reasons, I’m just,” He had to think about it. He wasn’t sure about the human word for this. “Having my fun?” He had a little shy smile, and while she was scowling, her heart melted a bit at the expression.

“I didn’t realize I was opening my door to such jokesters,” but even she had to laugh.

She let out a yawn, and she realized how tired she was out. It hit like a freight train now that she didn't have a murderous vampire on the loose and she no longer had to play doctor. “Well, I think I’m going to be retiring for the night. Jim would you like a pillow or something?”

He cocked he eyebrow. Right, that makes sense that they wouldn’t have them in the ocean.

“I’ll go get one for you away.”

The wolf followed her out of the bathroom and crawled up on the bed for no regard to his weight as he circled like any dog would before settling down on the bed. She grabbed one of the extra pillows and returned to stuff it in the corner between the wall and the bathtub and Jim hesitantly rested his head against it before his eyes lit up.

“This is very comfortable. What did you call this?”

She chuckled, “A pillow. Goodnight, Jim.”

He smiled, “Goodnight, Y/N. Thank you. again.”

“It’s no problem.” With that, she left again for the bedroom.

She looked at the wolf, seemingly asleep, and she decided what the hell. She took her bra off and her pants, leaving herself in just a shirt and underwear. She crawled into bed under the blankets and tried to get comfortable, but sleep wasn’t coming to her at all. She was just replaying the events of the night.

So, at the beginning of the night, it was crippling loneliness and a solid crying session, then late night sailing on the boat …. Then she saved a merman …. Then they got attacked by a vampire ….. and then she picked up a werewolf ….. and now there’s a merman in  her bathtub, a vampire chained up in the living room, and a werewolf in bed with her. She sighed. This was…. weird. This was a weird night. This couldn’t have happened, could it? This stuff was made up. Oh god, she was having a mental breakdown. She was breaking and this wasn’t real. None of this was real.

She was starting to hyperventilate, panic gripping her, but then she felt a warm head, a very warm, very large, and very fluffy head nuzzle into her chest. A strong, furry arm ending in a hand with extremely long and sturdy claws wrapped around her abdomen and pulled her tight. An animal’s tongue licked her cheek and she had to laugh at how much it tickled. She heard the wolf make a noise deep within its throat in approval and she relaxed. This was real. It was very very real and she had the feeling that this wolf wouldn’t let anything happen to her.

Sleep soon took over, and for the first time in what felt like years, there was a smile on her face.

[gremlinkweenarchive-blog]

Bad Moon Rising

Part 3: Feeding Time

Summary: The reader finds and rescues a hurt merman who tells her that his name is Jim. She helps him without a second thought, but his presence might attract the attention of other supernatural creatures she never knew existed. This will eventually be a foursome (Jim Mason x Michael Langdon x Duncan Shepard x Reader) mythology/supernatural au.

A/N: Alright, we finally have significant interaction with all four of them, just not together yet. That’s coming next chapter. I’m .......... fairly proud of this chapter, so I hope you enjoy! And as always, feel free to leave feed back and/or ask for the tag list! This will stir a lot of feelings for Michael and Duncan, fyi.

Warnings: No smut yet, sorry, but there is hella tension. There is blood, injury, purposeful self-injury (for the reasons of feeding a vampire), reader getting hurt, staring death in the face and the aftermath of that, and someone being a little callous to that fact.

Word Count: 2.6k

Tagging List: @langdonsinferno, @ccodyfern, @michael-langdon-appreciation, @lovelykhaleesiii, @michael-langdon-owns-my-soul, and @moonagecordelia

It was a mystic ability that it seemed all Washington natives had they could tell where the sun was, even behind the layers of clouds that often blanketed the sky. She was no different, and even though there was barely any change in the light level, she could tell the sun was peaking over the horizon. She blinked sleepily, she hated that she could never sleep for more than a few hours at a time it felt like. She knew she should get up and get something today, but she was warm and comfy.

She grabbed the furry arm and pulled it closer as she snuggled into the bed. Then her eyes snapped open at the realization of what she was holding. She looked over her shoulder to see the wolf sleepily peacefully and her mind had to restart. Okay, so last night was definitely not a dream or a hallucination. Well, she was up now. She careful shimmied out from the bed as not to wake up her bed partner, and she peaked her head into the bathroom. Jim was cuddled into the pillow and snoring softly, making her smile softly. Alright, everything seemed to be going fine. She descended the stairs to the kitchen softly, catching a glimpse of the vampire who's head was still hanging low, and grabbed a banana, munching quietly as she leaned against the island. She was becoming acutely aware of eyes burrowing into the back of her skull and she whipped around nearly yelped to see that the vampire was very much awake and staring her down like a lion would a gazelle. He made no move to fight against the chains fastened around his chest, but he certainly looked like he was waiting to spring into action. 

"Hi there," she cautiously greeted and he met it with silence, just watching her every movement. "I'm Y/N...." She trailed off as he again, met her attempted conversation with silence. 

"Look, I'm sorry I knocked you and tied you up, but you were trying to kill one of my friends..." Again, silence. She had to admire his tenacity. She sighed, and was a little impressed that it was hurting her feelings a little.

She ate in silence until she heard and was just at the point that she had let it go, "You should have killed me when you had the chance."

It was amazing that this man made her jump twice in the span of ten minutes. Something about him was unsettling, but she wasn't sure what. Or more, where to start. Yeah, he was a blood-sucking vampire, but that wasn't it necessarily. She looked over at him. He was so still and controlled, like every movement he thought about doing it. There was something else though, it was just under the surface.

"I wasn't just going to kill you." She answered, earnestly. 

"Why? I was going to."

"We're not the same people. I wasn't going to kill someone that is just doing what they need to do for survival.... I just couldn't let you kill my friend." He was quiet again, and she wasn't sure where that left their conversation. Finally, he posed another question, "And what makes you so certain I won't kill you when I get out of this? I can't stay here forever."

"Well, I certainly hope that you have enough manners that you won't kill someone who could have killed you, but didn't."

He hummed.

She pursed her lips and got brave enough to venture closer to him. He was still heavily wounded, but the hairs on her arms and the back of her neck were standing up. He was staring at the ground now, but his eyes moved measuredly to meet her curious gaze, a silent and rude what being spoken with the gaze. 

"I thought vampires healed quickly." 

"I'm weak, I haven't fed in a week and a half." 

Now she hummed, and as he looked away, moving just as languidly as he did to look at her, she moved in jerk motions back to the kitchen. She tapped the counter with her nail, thinking about what she should do, and as her eyes flicked to the knife that she used for the skinning and gutting of the fish she caught for herself, she sighed deeply. 

She grabbed and a measuring cup from the cupboard and tried to get comfortable. She had to think about this, but she decided that cutting her ankle was probably the best bit. She remembered from that medical history class this was the most agreed upon spot for blood letting, and it would be the easiest to hide because man, would this cause lots of questions.

The position was less than dignified, measuring cup on the island and leg resting on that, as the rest of her was balanced on one of the stools, but it worked. She took a moment to breathe before slicing into her skin as fast and fluidly as she could. A grunt escaped her lips, but it wasn't the worst pain she's never felt. It was quiet, except the occasional sound of metal against wood. The vampire's interest was piqued now. She let the cup get most of the way full before grabbing the towel on the counter and applies pressure to the wound until the bleeding slowed down to a slow ooze. 

She grabbed the cup and approached Michael with uneasy and shaky steps. His eyes were fastened on the measuring cup and his eyes were darkening. He was inhaling the air to intake the scent of the blood. 

"Here, a peace offering. Now, please just don't..." She wasn't sure what she was asking for but his dark and red eyes fixed her gaze and he nodded for her to approach, a silent promise that he wouldn't try anything. 

There was a fire growing in her veins as she approach. She was scared and his lips turned up to a sadistic smirk hearing her heart beating like a rabbit's. There was something else here though. The way his eyes burned into her, the pure predator and prey dynamic here, was making a heat flare up in her core. She brought the cup to his lips and tipped it. He started greedily drinking the blood, his eyes keeping her gaze until his eyes rolled back in ecstasy, a languid groan sounded from him, then he was drinking down the hot liquid with even more fervor. His eyes fluttered open and with long and slow strokes of his tongue, he lapped what he could reach of the measuring cup. 

Taking it away slowly, she didn't even realize she was breathing hard. His eyes were still dark, and that dark smile was on his lips again as he licked them clean. "Thank you."

"Uh-huh," She said with a strained voice and left for the kitchen, trying to hide her flushed cheeks and arousal, but she doubted that he didn't notice. He could probably smell and hear her. She set the cup in the sink and stole another glance at the vampire and saw him watching her intently. 

She turned to go back upstairs to get changed, but as she got ready for the day, it hit her why he was so unnerving. She only saw him breathe to get the scent of her blood, other than that, his chest was stationary. He only moved out of necessity. There were none of the involuntary movements that came with being alive, he didn't even twitch his head or blink for that matter. He was totally and utterly in control of himself, and something about that just scared her, but also had an extreme power over her. 

She slipped out of the house without even looking into the living room, she didn't want to have to have anymore interaction with the vampire than she had to. It was too much to be in the presence of such an apex predator. 

------------------------------ The shopping went well, even if the new wound on her ankle had started burning half way from the trip. She wasn't too bothered though, but she was happy to be wrestling the groceries into the house. She set things down on the island and kicked off her shoes, but something mad her stop. Something wasn't right here, but she couldn't put her finger on it. She went through the small entry way off to the side of the kitchen that connected the stairs and the living room, and it clicked. The beam was broken, the chains were strewn around the floor and there was no vampire in sight. Fuck. 

Suddenly, she was forced to the wall with a hand clamped around her throat. "I'm sorry to tell you, but I'm not big on manners." 

She made eye contact with him, but she wasn't able to contain her fear like she did with the wolf. This was a creature hellbent on hurting her. 

He was smiling again, drinking in your fear. "You know, this morning I was planning on just ripping open your neck and then draining that little merman you have up stairs, but you just taste so goddamn delicious. I think I'm going to have to keep you around for awhile. I haven't had my own personal blood bag in such a long time." 

She whimpered, terrified of this creature now, truly and wholly. He didn't have an ounce of sympathy in his eyes, if anything, unbridled joy at your fear. "Know that I'm going to suck you dry just until you're about to die, then I'm going to kill your friend. We're going to have fun." 

You had no idea what to do, but from the lack of oxygen and his words had tears pricking your eyes. 

"Now, Michael," you didn't have time to respond before the vampire was forced from you and in the quick struggle, you were pushed to the couch in your living room. You grabbed your throat and looked up in confusion to see what they fuck was going on. 

"That's not very nice." 

What a sight it was. There was a man you didn't recognize pinning the vampire to the wall the same way he had pinned you. He was also naked as the day he was born. His arm flexed as his fingers tightened around the other's neck, his back was toned and that was by far the most pert and mouth watering ass you had ever seen. He was just hard muscle and part of you wondered if Michelangelo didn't carve him from marble. 

"Our gracious host spares your life, and this is how you repay her?" He turned to look over his shoulder to look at you, giving you a wink. "Hey there, sweetheart." 

You nearly hit the floor, you knew those eyes. This is the wolf that you shared your bed with. You could see the wounds, but they were practically all healed now. You found yourself thanking the universe for him now. 

He turned his attention to the vampire again, "Honestly, Michael. I know you were born in a barn, but this is a new level of rude for you. This nice girl does so much for you, even feeds you, and you have the audacity to want to hurt her like that? Shameful."

Michael's mouth is set in a hard and angry line, but not risking a fight. Seeing his hesitance, Duncan grins in his face.

"You're still weak from the fight, aren't you? You know I can snap your neck right now and there's not a damn thing you can do to stop me." Michael looked away from him, and she yelped from her position on the couch.

He looked over at her, "Too much, sweetheart?" He turned back to Michael, a cocky sort of anger lighting his eyes.

"Even now, she isn't keen on killing you. As I said, shameful." He did change his stance a bit, and she couldn't help but stare at his tight backside as he moved.

"If you promise to be good, I'll let you go, kitten."

Michael's nose flared at the comment and she was more than confused as to what that was about.

"I promise," Michael agreed through gritted teeth and Duncan let him go.

"That's a good boy."

Now, Duncan's attention was on her and he was smiling. She saw him now in all his glory, and her breath hitched. With a smirk, he moved towards her, crawling over the couch to her. She hadn't been intimate with anyone in over a year, and even then, she wasn't used to someone to forward. She sunk into the couch with a bright red blush and wide eyes.

"Hi, sweetheart." He asked, his face hovering just above her's and his voice was low. "We weren't properly introduced last night. I'm Duncan Shepard, next alpha of the largest and most powerful pack on the East Coast. What's your name?"

She hummed like she understood what the hell he just said to her, and then it hit her that he asked for her name. "It's, um, Y/N."

He grinned. "Y/N," he spoke like he was tasting her name in her mouth. "That's a beautiful name."

"Thanks," she squeaked out and he was smiling and biting his lip.

"God, what a cute omega you'd make."

"Thanks, um. Can you, Can you maybe put on some clothes?" She was bright red and she had just done 180s with her emotions and she needed some type of relief from this. Just a moment to process this. "I've got somethings up stairs."

Duncan was slightly taken aback, not sure how to take her comment. She certainly didn't smell like she wanted him off of her, but her eyes were practically begging, and Micahel let out an amused snort from somewhere behind the two of them.

"I need to go to the bathroom," she was bright red and he saw the storm of emotions and he nodded, letting her up and watched her as she ran to the long way to the bathroom avoiding Michael as much as she could. Once she was out of Duncan's sight, he turned to Michael and the eye contact they held screamed a thousand words and emotions, but no words were shared.

She ran to the bathroom and slammed the door closed and turned on the facet and splashed her face with water. Her breathing was irregular, and she was fighting back tears. She had been nearly killed, and then whatever that was with Duncan happened, and she was scared. Scared was the only word she had, and she was beginning to regret this whole thing.

"Y/N?" Jim cautiously asked, but concern dripped through his voice.

The young woman nearly jumped out of her skin, for a moment forgetting that the merman was in the room. "Yeah, hi Jim. Sorry."

"Are you okay?" He knew the answer, he knew the telltale signs of the beginning to breakdown, and he could see the bruise on your neck forming, but he felt like he it wasn't his place to tell you that you weren't okay.

"... I will be," She spoke carefully, "I will be."

Jim held out his hand and she stared at it for a moment before gingerly placing her's in the palm. He gently squeezed her hand and she felt the tension slip from her muscles. He offered her a small and kind smile, and she didn't know how, but she was pretty sure that was the most beautiful thing she's ever seen.

"You will be," he reassured her, and she believed him.

[chloes-yellow-cup]

2018 Fic Roundup

I was tagged by @lets-talk-appella​ and I'm a bit in awe at how much she's written in the past year.

AO3 Stats

Total Word Count: 319,663 (Holy crap, really?)

Total Hits: 34022 Kudos: 1375 Comment Threads: 295 (If this counts my replies, divide that in half) Bookmarks: 313 Subscriptions: 195 User Subscriptions: 81

FFN is a bit trickier as it breaks down Views/Visitors per month so with a grain of salt: 34930/16077

Links & Titles to 2018 Works: (These notes may get a little long winded, sorry!)

Candy Wars: - 3,391 words, T Established Bechloe fluff with a dash of Staubrey and Bella Hijinks. Inspired by a tweet. Takes place post retreat, pre-Worlds, added in my A Shared Lifetime series.

Getting Even - 11,377 words, M Inspired by Perdition by @morningsound15​ and actually the first thing I started writing, for all that I posted CW first. Established Bechloe in Beca’s sophomore year. Much smut and later added to my A Shared Lifetime series.

One Million Kisses - 4,450 words, G

Mitchsen AU oneshot from a prompt request. So much fluff, Drunken Mitchsen and handstands.

Nowish - 102,144 words, M Bechloe, Staubrey. Bellas Squared. My first multi-chap and I could spend a lifetime talking about it. It started out as a joke: Can I write a scene with a foursome? And I couldn’t just throw them all into bed (I mean, I could but I wanted to build it up a bit.) 8 chapters later I created a life and a universe that I fell in love with and changed my entire life, how I view these four characters and gave me amazing new friends.

Leap of Faith - 8,146 words, M Bechloe neighbor AU from @lilhan​ for her birthday. Fluff and smut.  Prompt: Your window was open and you live across from me so I saw and heard you in your underwear, singing and dancing ridiculously and I really wanna get to know you cause you're pretty hot and I might have a crush on you AU.

Third Time’s the Charm - 11,410 words, T Bechloe Disney AU for Bechloe Week 2018 (though I had the idea before then.)  Beca’s got this rule, and there’s this Disney Princess... Humor and fluff with appearances from Stacie, Emily, Cynthia Rose and my now inevitable Staubrey side pairing.

Unknown Number - 649 words, G Post USO Staubrey Angst. Part of my Nowish universe:  Idea: What if Beca had called Stacie while she and Amy were on their way to save the Bellas? First in a newly established Fic Tease series, in which I post small bits that I can’t wait to share. So far the things posted here are part of a larger, future, PP3 story, but I’m pretty sure I’ll start posting random scenes that might not end up anywhere else.

Tattoos - 11,991 words, M Second Fic Tease entry. After brainstorming with my beta, @tiny-maus-boots​, we came up with the idea of Aubrey getting the rest of the girls gifts. As I realize the impact this world had on my life, I decided to get them as tattoos because they’re just that important to me. And this chapter was born - though it could stand as a oneshot on it’s own, honestly.

They Had Time - 148,183 words, M My Bechloe endgame rewrite of the first movie. Back when writing Getting Even, I had originally thought of writing a scene or two that put Bechloe together in the first movie. It was horribly rushed and totally unpolished. After GE, I decided to maybe do a transcription of the first movie, giving both their thoughts on key scenes. Then Nowish happened and Time got put on hold until it was done. When I came back to it, I had a whole host of future threads that I could weave through Time that would pay off in Nowish. Including, but not limited to, the groundwork for the Rise of Staubrey™, coming soon to a story near you.

The Middle - 17,922 words, M Poly Bellas Squared Oneshot, post Nowish. (Pre Tattoos.) The girls have some downtime, Stacie gets bored and more fluff and smut ensue. (I sense a theme in my works here.)

Favorite Fic: This is like asking a parent to pick their favorite kid. Nowish, probably. It was so hard but I’m so proud of it. Getting Even because it started me down this path. All my Oneshots (Kisses seriously becomes more adorable to me the more I write Mitchsen.) are also precious angels.

Hardest Fic: Nowish and Time. There were so many pieces to both of these that I almost gave up writing them - many times. Nowish because putting together these 4 in a realistic way was... stressful. And Time because I had to get it right - both in terms of putting Bechloe together and to fit within my new AU.

Do you plan on taking prompts in 2019? This is always tentative - coming up with ideas off of prompts takes me a small eternity. Of course, coming up with ideas in general takes that long so... maybe, but don’t count on it to be quick, lol.

What was the best thing about 2018? Writing again for the first time in fifteen years. Finding a place - a home - in this fandom. Everyone has always been so welcoming and supportive. Making new and amazing friends that I can’t imagine not talking to every day. 

There’s too many to name here, but these guys in particular have been amazing in their support: @nailbiting-fangirl, @lilhan, @fandom-heaux, @kate-harper, @rejection-isnt-failure, @c-k-mack​, @lets-talk-appella​. 

I’d mention @tiny-maus-boots but she’s been my bestie for half my life, not just 2018.

What was the worst thing about 2018? I had some serious depression issues for the first half of the year but the unswerving support of Maus and finding my writing voice has helped (mostly) pull me out of it. Self doubt. Writers block. Smut block. Not enough time to write.

Any last thoughts for 2018? This has been a wild ride and thank you to everyone who has made this year so amazing.

Goals for 2019: Write the multitude of ideas currently sitting in my “To-do” list which includes, but is not limited to: PP2, PP3, College Smutshots, Post Nowish Smutshots, Diner AU.

MAN I’m wordy!  Thank you to everyone who took the time to read this entire ramble and to everyone who has ever sent me feedback here, on AO3 or FFN. Your support has gotten me through an emotionally difficult year.

I’m totally going to make @kate-harper do this now.