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{Fake It Like You Love Me} Azriel x Reader x Xaden Riorson x Cassian

*slowly creeps up from the depths of hell* Heeeeeeeey, glad you guys remember I still exist 😭😭 First off, THANK YOU for 600 followers. That's insane and I don't deserve you all so thank you so fucking much. SECONDDDD, here is another part of my Fuck Away The Pain series!! Sorry this has taken me so long to do, but I think you for your patience. As always, let me know what you think and feel free to drop a request if you have any!!! Enjoy! Title and series inspired by this song.

Part 1: {Show Me Where It Hurts} Part 2: {Dirty Little Curse} these do not need to be read in order to be enjoyed!

Word Count: 7,630

Warnings: Smut. Like... an alarming amount of smut. ACOTAR x FOURTH WING, Dom/Sub, MMMF, use of the nicknames "pet" and "sir", oral (M and F receiving), pet play, degrading, praise kink, choking, spanking, cum eating, unprotected sex.

Tagging: @lees-chaotic-brain @thelov3lybookworm @needylilgal022 @librafairy @cyrygher @agent-anna @blessthepizzaman @bubybubsters @highladyofterrasen7 @annabethgranger123 @acourtofbatboydreams @thatacotargirl @berryzxx @throneofsmut

Summary: It is just after the legendary snowball fight. Azriel, Cassian, Rhys and Xaden are in the sauna while you, Mor, and Feyre are inside the cabin. Once Rhys leaves, it seems that there is a vacant spot that needs to be filled.

~~~~~

“So, explain this to me again?”

“Every year, they have a snowball fight. They just keep going and going and going until there’s a winner,” Feyre explains. “This is the first time you and Xaden are here so I think they’re taking it easy.”

From off to the side of the cabin, we hear a shout and then a chorus of laughter.

“Maybe not,” Mor says, peeking out the window. “Cassian just decked Riorson in the face.”

I giggled, sipping my warm tea and curling my legs under myself. “Probably made fun of Cassian’s hair or something. Called him a wet dog.”

“You know damn well that animal will come in here and shake like one too.”

“And after the sauna? Yuck, it’s going to smell for ages in here,” Mor shakes her head.

“The sauna?”

Both of them stop dead in their tracks, exchanging a knowing glance. Feyre looks at me with a twisted smirk. “You don’t know about the sauna?”

“Should I be afraid?”

“Definitely,” Mor grins, setting down her cup. “After they get done, they all go into the sauna together.”

“Naked?” I dare to ask.

“Terribly so,” Feyre adds. “A few years ago, on my first trip to the cabin, I got Rhys kicked out because… well, he just couldn’t stop thinking of me.”

I damn near choked. Then I burst out laughing. I can imagine it. Rhys, Azriel and Cassian sitting in the sauna together. It must be some sort of rule they have. If one of them gets a little too hot and bothered, they’re out. But the thought of them all in there, Azriel and Xaden sweating… does some pretty magical things to my brain.

And the space between my thighs.

“Gods you are just as bad as they are, Yn,” Mor fake gags, coming to sit next to me. “Don’t get too excited. None of us have ever been in, and none of us ever will.”

“Really? That’s kind of shocking, honestly.” There hasn’t been one exception? “I know Cassian is a bit of a…”

“Male whore?” Mor fills in the blank. It makes me giggle.

“I don’t quite know everyone well enough to make those assumptions, but Cassian definitely gives off a certain… aura.”

“Oh please, he’d take it as a compliment,” Mor smiles, playing with some of my loose hair. “But no, not even him. Now, what I cannot believe is how you ended up with both Az and Riorson. That is truly a work of art.”

I can’t help the smile that blooms onto my face. “Some are just more blessed than others.”

Feyre barks a laugh, “I’ll say. You got lucky with those two, you know.”

“I know. We’re not like– together together, but they take very good care of me. I honestly kind of like it. It's all the best parts of a relationship without having to worry about if everyone is getting enough attention. They give me what I need, and I give them what they need.”

“Have you ever asked for more? To be in a real relationship?” Mor asks, curiosity getting the best of her. Feyre smacks her in the shoulder. “Ow!”

“Don’t be insensitive,” the High Lady reprimands.

“Don’t be silly,” I wave them off. “I’ve thought about it, but I don’t think that’s what I want. Sure, being in love is great and all, but why complicate it? We work flawlessly together right now, why change? If either of them brings it up, I’ll be open to the idea. But for right now I’m thriving. They are far too generous anyway. They constantly bring me gifts or invite me out to dinner. They’re doing enough for me. Far more than enough.” “Not to mention the world's best sex,” Mor wiggled her eyebrows at me. “What’s it like with the two of them? Are the rumors of the Illyrian true? What about Xaden, is he packing too? Gods I bet he is, isn’t he? Now, I am the last Fae in Prythian who’d want to be taken by two males, but… for the both of them? I might reconsider. Tell me, does Az-”

“Cauldron boil me,” Feyre sighs. “I’m getting a drink.”

“Ooh! Will you bring me-”

“No,” Feyre scolds, heading into the kitchen.

“Crony bitch.”

“I heard that!” Feyre shouts from the other room.

Mor and I share a laugh, snuggling in close together. “This is so fun.”

“Isn’t it?” Mor says, “You’re always welcome back, Yn. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen Az so relaxed. He looks… happy. And I can’t vouch for Riorson but he looks like he needs this too.”

“Yeah it’s been a stressful couple weeks for Xaden. There was a huge issue in his homeland and he nearly lost his life. His dragon is bonded to someone else in his squad, and her dragon almost died. It was scary. I’m just glad he’s okay. On the flight up here he was giving me all his strategies on how he was going to win.” There’s a loud cackle from outside and the sound of bodies running into each other. I looked over the back of the couch, seeing Xaden at the bottom of the pile, snow being shoveled into his face. “Guess they didn’t work so well.”

“They’re probably done now,” Mor explains.

“Sauna time?”

“Sauna time.”

The door opens and the four males clamber in, shaking snow from their hair and clothes.

“I’m gonna get you back for that Rhys,” Xaden grins, evil intent behind those onyx eyes.

“I’d like to see you try. Hey Mor, hi Yn. Where’s Feyre?” Rhys pats the top of Mor’s head, offering me a kind smile.

“In the kitchen!” She calls, the High Lord following the sound of her voice.

Cassian makes a b-line for the couch, shaking his head like a mutt. Mor squeals, I just shut my eyes and take the damage. When I open them, he snickers and sits on the floor, sighing loudly. “And that makes 181 wins for yours truly.”

“Then he must have cheated,” Mor gags, wiping off Cassian’s grime with the bottom of her shirt. “For fucks sake Cass you stink.”

“I’m a hard working male,” he begs to differ.

“Only thing you’re working is gonna be my foot in your ass,” Mor chides, standing up. “I’m going to shower, I smell like a dog.”

“You wish you smelled as good as me. Sorry to catch you in the crossfire, Yn.”

“It’s all good,” I smile, rubbing the few drops I got off on my sleeve.

But the look on Xaden’s face when he comes to sit next to me reflects anything but. He’s got a scowl directed at Cassian, but he makes quick work of masking it, planting a kiss on my cheek. A moment later, Azriel does the same thing.

“Should you be sitting on the couch?” I ask. Xaden’s hair a soaking wet mess, his clothes more the same.

“Trust me,” Azriel chimes in, “There have been far worse things on this couch.”

I blink at him, wondering if I would need to burn my clothes after this. He plops down next to me, slinging an arm over the back of the couch behind my shoulders.

Cassian looks between all three of us. Clearly seeing the size difference and taking notes about it. “I should probably keep my mouth shut.”

“That would be wise, brother,” Azriel grumbles, stretching out his legs. “Where's Rhys? Im fucking freezing and I wanna go in the sauna.”

“He’s in the kitchen with Feyre,” Mor said, rounding the corner from the washroom. She clearly didn’t shower, but she smelled much better. “And we all know what happened the last time the two of them were left alone here.”

“What happened?” Xaden and I asked at the same time.

“Nothing,” Azriel, Cassian and Mor responded in unison.

The dragon rider and I shared a look, a silent promise to ask Az about it later. We had a nice evening planned, dinner with everyone, and then they were going to let Az, Xaden and I spend the night in the cabin. We’ve never been here before today so it was a generous offer. I can tell how much this place means to all of them.

No one needs a vivid imagination to get an idea of what’s going to happen later.

“Fuck him,” Cassian pushes to his feet, binding his hair back with a strip of leather. “Come on, let's get started. He can decide later if he wants to join.”

Cassian and Xaden head out the door, but Az stays seated next to me. “Having fun?”

“Of course,” I reassured, patting his thigh. “Mor and Feyre are very kind. And this is a lovely cabin.”

“Good, I’m glad.”

“Looks like you two had a lot of fun,” I smile, resting my cheek on his damp shoulder. “You smell far better than Cassian.”

“Naturally,” Az smirked. “And yes we did. Xaden needed it, you needed it. It’s always just been the three of us every year, but it felt right to have Xaden here in the mix. You too, obviously.”

“Glad I could make the cut,” I joked, receiving a pinch on my ear.

“Brat.”

“That’s not even close to me being a brat and you know it.” “Don’t I ever,” he grinned, covering my mouth with his. Despite the chill coming from his body, his lips were warm and soft. Full of life, vibrance, and need. “By the sound of it, Rhys won’t be joining us in the sauna. We won’t be in there long, will you bring us some towels around four?”

I looked at the analog on the wall, the hands reading 3:22pm. I nodded, “Sure.”

He curled my hair around his fingers before standing, following the other two outside.

In the meantime, I hung out with Mor and we talked about random stuff. She tried to get more details about Az and Xaden, but I wasn’t willing to give them up. We played a few card games, had a snack and a glass of wine before she winnowed off the mountain and back to Velaris to meet some friends at Rita’s.

Just as I was curling up with a book, I felt a cool whisper circle my wrist. A strand of Azriel’s shadow wrapped around and around in a never ending bracelet. I smiled, looking at the clock. Just seven past four. I head for the closet, grabbing three thick, soft tan towels.

Damn, it's cold out here. How do they not freeze to death? I carefully step in their footsteps so my toes don’t get frozen off. There is a little stone path to the sauna and I gladly jump from stone to stone. With the towels under my arm, I knock on the door.

“I brought your towels, they’ll be out here on this chest,” I shouted, unsure if they’d be able to hear me through the thick wood paneling. There was a small jut out from the roof over the door, ensuring they wouldn’t get covered with snow.

“Will you bring them in?” Xaden calls.

I skidded to a halt, damn near knocking myself over. Did he just say what I think he said? “I thought no females were allowed in the sauna?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Cassian’s voice boomed. “We just need the towels so our bits don’t freeze off. You can close your eyes if you’re scared.”

Scared? I wasn’t scared, but I didn’t particularly care to see Cassian sprawled out with all his glory on display. Well, okay that's a complete lie. Ever since I first saw the Lord of Bloodshed, I thought he was… well… hot. He’s tall, all thick muscle and confidence. He knows he’s hot shit. I’d imagine if he were a closer friend that confidence might piss me off, but I think he’s funny. He knows what he’s got and he’s not afraid to show it.

“Are you going to bring them or not?” Xaden shouts.

Oh. Right. The towels.

I take a steadying breath and push open the door. A wave of humid, damp air blasts me in the face, instantly melting the flecks of snow on my hair and lashes. There isn’t a light save for a few windows to let some ventilation in. It's dark, but I can make out the three figures. Azriel and Xaden are to the left, and Cassian is to the right.

I keep my eyes on my boys and place towels in Xadens open arms. “Thank you, my dear.”

“Of course,” I smile, carefully avoiding any glimpses of Cassian in my peripherals. Just before I can reach the safety of the outdoors, Azriel’s hand wraps around my wrist, gently tugging me in front of him. His other hand curls around my hip, pinning me still. “Yes, my shadow?”

He all but purrs at the nickname. “Stay.”

Stay. Stay? As in… in here? With him and Xaden and Cassian? “You guys enjoy your time together.”

I tried to take another step, but he sat up, gripping my body to keep it positioned between his powerful legs. I trailed my eyes down his torso, seeing a bit of a surprise waiting for me. “I told you to stay.”

Heat flooded my body, a different heat than the one coursing through the sauna. I quickly glance at Xaden to see him exchanging a glance with Cassian across the way.

“I- I wouldn’t want to kick Cassian out just because you want me, Az. That’s rude,” I say, my breath hitching when he slides his hands under my thick wool sweater. He rakes his nails down my back and I momentarily forget that there is a third set of eyes watching.

“I don’t think Cassian would mind the show, would you, Cass?” Azriel looks around my torso at the Illyrian, and I have to force myself not to do the same.

There isn’t a verbal response from him.

Az roughly grips my hips, forcing me to sit down in his lap. His mouth attaches to mine before I can make a sound. I flinch momentarily when he bites down on my lip, his pace fast and aggressive. The sauna is silent save for the sound of our lips meeting.

Sweat begins to swell around my hairline, trickling down the back of my neck. He removes my sweater and tosses it towards the open door. I wasn’t wearing a bra, and the hot air coats my bare back. Azriel breaks the kiss, latching onto my neck and collar bone.

“Az,” I say, already breathless. “Wh-What are you doing?”

“Are you telling me that you’ve never thought about Cassian before?”

Shit. SHIT.

“I- well I didn’t- not in the way you think I would’ve I was just-”

“That certainly didn’t sound like a no, Yn,” Azriel looks up at me, a knowing glint in his eye. “Did you think I wouldn’t notice?”

“I- I didn’t think… I would’ve never thought that-”

“You have five seconds to tell me to stop. One.”

“Azriel I-”

“Two.” He pushes me back to my feet.

My knees buckle and it’s an effort to keep myself upright in the sweltering humidity. “Why would I have thought that you and Xaden would want-”

“Three.” He stands, towering over me.

I huff in annoyance. “Azriel, stop counting-”

“Four.” Az makes me take two steps back, advancing on me.

“Xaden will you please fucking-”

“Five.” His fingers wrap around my throat and push me back. Directly into Cassian. A second set of hands find their way onto my body. Cassian grips my hips, keeping me from falling. I am deathly still. I hardly breathe. I don’t dare make a noise. “You’d like it if Cassian joined, wouldn’t you?”

I don’t respond.

“She looks petrified,” Xaden points out very matter-of-factly.

“I like it when she’s scared, she obeys when she is. Isn’t that right pet?”

One word. One stupid nickname and I’m under his spell. Fuck, of course I want Cassian to join. I haven’t ever seen him without clothes, but he doesn’t leave much to the imagination. “I- I umm-”

“Just admit it and I’ll let you go,” Azriel demands, tightening his fingers for emphasis. It’s nowhere near a dangerous amount, but it makes my breath hitch.

“Yes yes,” I rush out, senses on fire.

“Yes what, pet? Come on, you know the rules. If you want Cass to join you have to tell him.”

Azriel releases me, and if it weren’t for Cassian holding me up, I would’ve keeled over. The combination of the restricted airflow and the density of the heat in the sauna was going to make a lethal combo.

And I craved it.

I quickly slipped under, fully ready to play with the three of them. I gently turn and look down at Cassian. His bronze skin is shining with sweat, hair still bound behind his head. I take a deep breath, swallowing. “Would you like to play with us, Cassian?”

His eyes dilate, tongue darting out of his mouth to wet his lips. “I thought you’d never ask, darling.”

Relief floods me and I smile. I am so thrilled he said yes. I look over at Az and Xaden, waiting for their command. I desperately need them to tell me what to do. This is already so overwhelming in the best way possible.

“Why don’t you be a good girl and welcome Cassian, okay?”

I don’t need to be told twice. Like he knows what I was thinking, his knees spread apart, inviting me in. I sink down to the floor and stare up at him through my wet lashes. “Messy or clean?”

A grin spreads across the Illyrians mouth. “Oh, she’s good. Messy, darling. I want to see you ruined.”

Cassian’s finger separated my lips and I sucked on his thumb. He pressed down on my tongue, and I swirled it around his digit. Meanwhile, his other hand fisted himself, and I couldn’t help but take a glance.

Cauldron boil me alive–

I delicately reach a hand out and replace mine with his. The warrior's head falls back and he shuts his eyes. My hand is so much smaller than… well, every part of him. I stroke up and down, gently thumbing the small slit at the tip. A few drops slide down onto my finger and I generously lick them off. He definitely tastes similar to Az, but nothing like Xaden.

The moment my tongue circles him, he cuts loose a moan deep from his chest.

“Fuck you’re so warm,” Cassian lifts his head, taking in the sight of me taking him in. I swallow around him, drawing more sounds out of him.

“I think what makes it so good is she loves doing it. Don’t you, Yn? You love being stuffed full,” Azriel comes up behind me, his presence stealing my breath away. Maybe it’s the added heat that makes my head dizzy. “That’s right, work him all the way down. Get him nice and deep.”

I push and push my head all the way down his cock, taking a moment to stay still, just emphasizing exactly what I can do. Cassian laughs at me, full on laughs. A mocking sort of sound that spreads goosebumps all across my skin. He bucks his hips, really testing how far he can push me.

“Oh, she’s good,” he grunts, head tipping back again. “Keep that perfect mouth moving, darling.”

My ears are ringing a little. Whether that be from the heat or the sheer overstimulation, it’s hard to tell, but I didn’t react right away. The next thing I knew, one of Azriel’s hands was fisting my hair, the other braced at the back of my head. I nearly choked when I was ripped away and then slammed down onto his cock a few times.

“You heard him, Yn. Take his cock like the good slut you are,” Azriel reprimanded. He continued to overpower me, making me work up and down on Cassian. I let my jaw go slack, along with my hands braced on Cassian’s thighs. I let out a content sigh as I was fucked on Cassian’s cock.

I rocked with Azriels movements. His grip singed my scalp and an ache formed in my jaw. It was familiar, ignorable, but present nonetheless. I was glad to have them doing all the work, it was far too hot in here to think clearly… even without the added exertion.

When Az decided I got the memo, he let go of my head and I continued the motions with steady practice. I closed my eyes, feeling every drop of sweat on my body. My thick, fleece lined leggings were beginning to soak through. Xaden’s calloused hands found their way to my waste and began to slide them off. With a pop, I pulled off of Cassian, giving my jaw a much needed break. Xaden peeled them from my legs, taking my underwear with them. But, before he let me sit back down, he laid down on his back, beckoning me to ease on top of him.

“Surely you’ll suffocate, it’s already unbearably hot in here,” I huff, catching my breath.

“Then I shall go doing what I love most,” the dragon rider replies. “Sit.”

I looked to Az, silently asking if this really was a smart decision. He just gave me a pointed nod with narrow eyes, a promise that if I didn’t listen he’d make working for my release miserable. So I obeyed without a second thought.

The moment his tongue curled into me, I sighed. Aimlessly, my hand worked tentatively up and down Cassian’s shaft, drawing a few sounds out of the General. “Let me fuck your throat, darling.”

There must’ve been a sparkle in my eye because I grinned, opening wide for him to do so. His length was thick. Almost too thick. And long. Fucks sake everything about him was big. I was up for the challenge. As it hit the back of my throat, I relaxed, letting his hands fall around my ears. It was gentle at first, his thrusts long and even. I moaned in tandem with the licks I was receiving from Xaden, my mind a melted, scrambled mess of ecstasy. With a particularly hard suck on my clit, I jerked the opposite way Cassian was going.

“Ah ah ah,” he chided, clicking his tongue. “You don’t get to run away from me. Take what you’ve been given. Be a good fucking girl, Yn.”

I glance up at him, throat too full to make any noise. A third set of hands– Azriels, so experienced and commanding, settled on my breasts, plucking and pulling. I could feel everything and nothing at the same time. My entire body was numb with pleasure, numb with exploration of the three of them.

Azriel. Xaden. Cassian. All three of them, the most powerful warriors of their respective worlds, all focused on one thing. One goal.

Me.

Cassian picked up his pace, the thrusts less deep, but far more firm. It was clear he was chasing his high, thick veins beginning to bulge in his arms… up his chest… in the column of his throat.

“She does such a good job at taking it,” Cassian praises. “Doesn’t gag, doesn’t complain. Look at all those pretty tears. All for me, darling? Do I fuck you so good you need to cry? It’s okay, I’ll lick them clean. Then make them spill down your neck again when I get to fuck your pussy.”

My heart thrashed in my chest, thighs shaking with the force of Xaden’s tongue against my core. I writhed my hips, breathing harshly through my nose every other thrust because that’s all Cass would allow. At some point Azriel’s hands left the mix. I couldn’t see him anywhere, but his presence remained. Those shadows replacing his skilled fingers.

My body was wound tight. I was already anticipating a fun night with just Azriel and Xaden. But now? With Cassian? A new fire had been set ablaze inside me. And it needed– no, demanded, to be let out. I tried to warn Xaden, I tried to ask for permission, but I couldn’t with Cassian’s grip on my head. I fiercely moaned, hips shaking so badly that Xaden had to lock me in place.

“You can let go,” Azriel commanded from somewhere behind me. I silently thanked him.

Like a crack of lightning, my release barreled through me. I came so hard my vision whited out, a faint ringing bounding between my ears. Moans of pure pleasure spilled out of me and right onto Cassian. The extra vibrations must’ve done wonders from him because his grip faltered, as well as his pace. His head slumped forward and his eyes rolled shut.

“Fuuuuck, whatever you’re doing to her, Riorson, you better not fucking stop. Keep her moaning like that. Fuck I’m gonna cum so hard. Want it, pretty pet? Want my cum down your throat, filling your belly?”

He released my head, bidding me to give a verbal answer. After what Xaden just did to me, I’m not sure that’s physically possible. “P-Please, sir” I sigh out, my voice in an atrocious state already. “Wanna make you feel so so good.”

The use of ‘sir’ must’ve really done something to him. He sat up, a corrupt, unforgiving smile creeping onto his cruel lips. “Sir? That’s a dangerous game, my darling.”

“She doesn’t mind a little bit of danger, does she?” Azriel grips my hair again, pulling my head back so I have to look up at him. I nod carefully, the strain in my neck almost too much. “Yes she does. Now get to it, I'm getting impatient.”

Bad things happen when Azriel is left uncared for. And who was I to make him suffer?

I stuck out my tongue, a silent beg for Cassian to slip back in. He did without further coercion. The first time my nose brushed the soft hair on his pelvis, I could’ve sworn it was an accident. The second time, I realized it wasn’t. I couldn’t breathe, a small panic settling in every crevice of my body. I tried to keep calm, but between a relentless Xaden under me and a ruthless Cassian in front, it was near impossible.

“F-Fuck fuck fuck fuuuucccckkkk,” Cassian shouted, the muscles in his thighs and abdomen flexing. “Gonna take it all? It’s gonna be a lot, can you handle it, darling? Yeah I think you can. I’ll make you either way. Stay niiiiice and still for me- oh fuck-”

At the last second, he pulls me off about an inch and the humid, sweat filled scent of air floods into my nose. I drink his release down. It’s thick and warm, salty and abundant. I hum around him as I swallow and swallow and swallow. My eyes fill with tears yet again and they escape down my cheeks.

Cassian shudders. With gentle laps of my tongue, I clean him up. He watches me attentively. I can’t help the smile that forms on my lips when our eyes meet.

“You…” he breathes heavily, chest swelling and falling. “You are a little devil, aren’t you?”

The Illyrians hand wraps around my throat and he pulls me to my feet, and off of Xaden. The way our tongues met could’ve moved mountains. He was not shy in showing how much he wanted me. I melted into him, straddling his thigh and letting my arms drop to my sides.

Azriel played with my hair, hands caressing my ass. Together, they brought me down, content to let me relax for a few minutes.

“You did so well, pet,” Azriel cooed, dragging his tongue over the shell of my ear.

“So fucking good,” Cassian murmured against my lips. “Such a good little girl.”

I could hear Xaden climb to his feet, the sound of his hand stroking his cock loud in the otherwise quiet room. “I will never, ever, get tired of making her cum on my tongue.”

“Should I have a taste?” Cassian asked, placing small bites on my throat.

“I actually had something else in mind,” I sighed out, getting lost in all the hands and tongues. He gave me a curious look, but I just smirked, easing onto shaking legs and turning around so my ass was in Cassian’s lap. “I want to play a game.”

“A game?” There is an obvious hint of danger in Cassian’s voice? “What kind of game?”

“I want you and Xaden to fuck me, and I want Azriel to tell you when to move and when to stop.”

I haven’t yet brought it up to Azriel and Xaden, but I’ve always wanted to do this. A game of red light green light. To give full control and power to him, making us work for our pleasure. I look at Azriel, gauging his response, but he just grabs my chin, bringing our faces level.

“Yeah? You wanna play a game? Want to be treated like a literal pet? Taking commands and performing tricks?” His voice is thick with desire, so low only we could hear it.

My heart skips a beat. I hadn’t thought about it like that before. But the idea is… it’s-

“Look at her face, Cass,” Xaden tilts his head mockingly. “She wants it so bad, don’t you, pretty girl? Would you like a collar, that way if you get lost they know who you fucking belong to? Gods she’s so red. Don’t be embarrassed, pet. We know just how much you love being fucked full of cock and cum.”

“Sit on his dick, Yn,” Azriel orders. “Now.”

Silently, I hover over his lap, letting Cassian guide my hips. At the first press of his tip, I gasp. A new thrill thrummed through me.

Azriel comes and stands in front of me, cupping my cheeks. “I know he’s big, but you’re gonna take all of him. And you’re going to like it because you asked for it. So, here’s your first trick. Sit.”

The Shadowsinger pushes on my shoulders, leaving no option but to take Cassian all the way. All. The. Way. My breath is lodged in my chest with no room to escape. I can’t think. Can’t hear. Can’t see. Can’t even begin to process what is about to happen.

“Oh, good girl Yn,” Xaden praises, still stroking himself. “Look at how pretty she looks, Az.”

Cassian grunts behind me, hooking my legs over his knees so the others can see him buried inside me. I cry out at the shift, feeling him go deeper and deeper. Gods, he feels like he’s everywhere.

“Cassian, why don’t you play with her nipples,” Azriel instructs, walking back and forth in front of us. “Xaden, give her something to suck on.”

“With pleasure,” Xaden grins, those onyx eyes narrowing on my mouth. I go to protests, but then I realize just how hard he is. How flushed his skin is. And I need to taste it, to relieve him of his torture.

He traces my lips with the tip, coating them in his slick. With a heady pant, I stick out my tongue to invite him in.

A hand cracks down on my thigh. I scream out, more in shock than in actual pain. Azriel’s hand was the culprit.

“Did I say you were allowed to taste it yet?” His eyes are swirling with lethality. I bite my tongue to keep myself from saying something stupid. “Well?”

“N-No,” I say meekly. “I’m sorry. May I taste it, Az? Can I please taste Xaden?”

After a minute of letting the question hang in the air, building suspense, he nods. Greedily, I take Xadens hips and bring his cock towards my mouth.

It’s such a glorious sound to hear when Xaden curses low. A deep rumble in his chest letting me know this is exactly what he needed. Without moving– fearful I’ll get another smack– I look at Az, awaiting my next instruction.

“Fuck her throat, Xaden,” Az says, eyes scanning out bodies. “Start fucking her nice and slow Cassian. Really savor her, make her moan just like Xaden did for you.”

At the same time, both of their bodies start sliding in and out of me. They find a rhythm instantly: Cassian fucks me forward onto Xaden, and Xaden fucks me back onto Cassian. It’s easy enough to let them do all the work, my bones and liquid at this point anyway. All I know is pain, pleasure, and unfiltered need for these males.

I moan deeply as Cassian hits that spot inside me. Xadens hip stutter, his head tipping back as Cassian hits it over and over again.

“Does that feel good, Xaden?” Azriel asks, gripping his hair at the root, whispering right in his ear. “To have our girls' mouths all around you?”

The dragon rider nods as best he can with Azriel’s grip. “Fuck yes.”

“Make her stop.”

“W-Why?”

“Because I told you to. Yn, stop,” Azriel demands. I instantly pull my mouth away from Xaden, even if it makes me want to scream and thrash and beg for it back. I need it, need to taste it, need to feel him cum down my throat. “See, she listens to me. Do I need to punish you too?”

“No,” Xaden shakes his head. “I’ll listen.”

“Yes you will.” Azriel gives a fake smile. “On your knees.”

Xaden sinks to his knees.

“Suck on Yn’s clit. Make her cum on Cassian’s cock.”

The sight of Xaden, on his knees, cock leaking continuously, does something to me. It gives me ideas for later. He helps push open my legs, even when the first brush of his tongue makes me see stars. Cassian has to wind his arms around mine to keep me from sliding off. I know he’s strong, but to be able to hold me still and keep fucking me is…

“Good boy, Xaden,” Azriel praises, brushing his hair away from his face. “Just like that, make our pretty girl cum.”

It’s not going to take long. His laps are so soft, so gentle, and it works far faster than I’d like to admit.

“Az- Az can I cum?” I ask, just to be cautious. I do not want to have this taken away from me. I can’t have it taken away from me.

“Yes, pet. Cum as much as you want.”

It’s like music to my ears. It’s building and building. In my core, at the base of my spine. Behind my eyelids. It’s fucking everywhere. My vision goes white and an embarrassing noise tears from my soul. I writhe on Cassian, driving him further and further inside me. Sweat is dripping off me in buckets. Fuck it is so fucking hot in here.

“Very good Xaden,” Azriel says. “What a good boy, making our pet cum so well. You can stuff your cock back down her throat. She looked so sad to see it go. Go ahead and cum, fill her up nice and full. Cassian, get up.”

Suddenly I’m on my feet being steadied by several pairs of hands. The way Cassian is looking at me, the way he’s breathing, tells me I’m in trouble. The glances passed between Az and Cass worry me. The next thing I know I’m on my knees and elbows, ass up in the air.

“Sit on the floor, Xaden,” Azriel commands. “Right in front of Yn. Yup, there you go, now just let Cassian fuck her onto you.”

A shudder runs through my entire body when Cassian slips back in. I swiftly take Xaden down, mainly because if I don’t I’m going to go crazy. The delicious, sweet taste of him fills me once again and I hum in content.

“Don’t hold back Cassian, chase exactly what you want. Fill up her pussy as much as you want, she can take it.”

“Fucking hell, Az. Are you trying to kill me?” Cassian chuckles, letting his motions pick up pace. Every snap of his body into mine sends waves of pleasure down my spine. It rolls through me and allows me to take even more of Xaden in my mouth. “I’ll never get over just how fucking tight she is.”

“Malek spare me…” Xaden curses. I get to watch Xaden fall apart and a new thrill fuels my motions. I lose all concept of time, I have no idea what is going on. All I know is Cass is fucking me like his life depends on it, and that Xaden is holding on for dear life.

I suck as hard as I can, pressing my tongue into the bottom side of his cock. I can’t pay attention to the most sensitive areas of him, mainly because Cassian if fucking me too hard to let me. Hopefully I can make him see stars anyway.

“F-Fuck Yn, I’m gonna cum,” he warns, knees falling open. “Oh fuck I’m gonna cum.”

“Give it to her, Xaden,” Azriel kneels beside Xaden, hand trailing over the muscles in his chest.

I watch the muscles in his abdomen clench with every breath. He scrunches his eyes closed and I brace for him, letting his hips rut as fast as he wants. With a long, drawn out growl, Xaden releases down my throat. I do my best to swallow it all, but between the angle and Cassian's relentless thrusts, I let a few drops spill out.

Xaden is throbbing on my tongue, his sounds of pure pleasure fill my ears, filling me with deep satisfaction.

“Can’t fucking take it anymore,” Azriel rips me off of Xaden and takes his place. I’m hauled up onto my palms, Azriel’s cock bobbing in front of me. Before I can take it between my lips, Azriel bends down to my level, licking the droplets of Xadens cum off my lips.

I went as still as a statue. Tingles spread from the tips of my fingers to my toes. I watched him swallow, his Adam's-apple bobbing. I was at a loss for words. If he wanted me to speak, it’d be impossible.

Thankfully I didn’t have to. He filled my mouth, not wasting a second.

“Xaden, will you go grab those towels?” Azriel asked, hands trailing over my shoulders.

“When I can move,” he responded, making the Shadowsinger and the General laugh. I swore I could feel the rumble of his laughter through his cock.

“Not gonna last much longer,” Cassian warns, adjusting his grip on my hips.

“Wait.” Azriel urges, “Give me one minute.”

Cassian stills, and I whine in discontent. A second later, his hand smacks my ass, undoubtedly leaving an imprint of his hand. “Don’t complain, pet. Or you won’t get anything at all. You should be grateful to be stuffed full of our cocks. That’s no way to disrespect a guest.”

Azriel is unforgiving as he fucks my throat, his pace fast and hard. To be fair, he has been waiting a long while for his turn. It doesn’t take long for him to start showing signs of nearing his high. He grabs both sides of my sweat-soaked head, and I feel drops from his own body–and Cassians–land on me.

“Want my cum?” Azriel asks, pulling me off. “Want me to cum down your little throat, pet?”

“Yes yes yes,” I slur my words together. “Please gimme all of it, need all your cum. Wanna taste you so bad.”

“Yeah you fucking do,” Azriel’s grin is sinister. He knows exactly what to say to make me squirm. “Drink it all up, slut.”

When he finally gives me what I want, I don’t dare waste a drop. I leave no mess to clean up as he cums all the way down. There’s nothing I can do but swallow, swallow, swallow.

I begin to lose some consciousness, the heat and over exertion finally catching up to me. I feel Azriel slip out, praising me and telling me how good I did. I think I nod, but Cassian resumes his motion and I forget about everything. I can only focus on him pounding into my pussy, getting so deep I have to let out little noises every time he does.

“She’s so fucked out,” Xaden says from… somewhere.

“Yeah she is, she looks so good. Limp and used. So fucking hot, Yn,” Azriel agrees.

I moan in response. It’s about all I’m capable of at this point. And it feels so good. Everything they did to me, every thrust from Cassian feels like I’m floating. I close my eyes and let him finish me.

As Cassian lets go, I feel him pin my shoulders to the ground, ramming his hips as hard as he can into me, filling me up nice and tight full of his cum. There's a big stretch, and then an almost immediate release. His warm slick flows out from around him and down the inside of my thigh. Tears or exhaustion and pleasure streak down my cheeks and fall onto the wood floor of the sauna.

Eventually, I’m laid on my back. I can barely open my eyes, but I feel a tongue lapping between my legs. I try to inch away, but firm hands keep me from closing my legs. I whine.

“Ah ah,” I hear Cassian chide. “He’s just trying to clean you up. Be still. Here, drink this.”

A cup is pressed to my lips and I hungrily drink down. The salty, briny taste is washed from my tongue and my blurry vision begins to steady. I look down, seeing Xaden between my legs, his curly head soaked with sweat.

Cassian’s thumb brushes my cheek, collecting a small tear. “Aww, poor baby.” I watch as he licks it from his digit. It… gets me going faster than I’d like to admit. Then his tongue trails the length of my cheek. I shudder, letting out a tiny squeak. “Told you I’d lick them clean.”

“Alright that's enough, Xaden,” Azriel says from up above. “Let’s get her inside and cool off.”

“I just couldn’t help it, her pussy looked so good full of cum,” Xaden winks at me, and I can feel a flush of my cheeks and neck. “Even after all we’ve done together, I still make you blush.”

“Zip it,” I glared at him, failing to keep my smile at bay.

Cassian lifts me up, hugging me close to his chest. We’re all covered in sweat, but I don’t give a fuck. I just want to take a nice bath, curl up with my boys, and sleep into next week. A cold burst of air greets me as we step outside the sauna.

“Is she doing okay?” Azriel asks. I think it’s him that brushes hair away from my face.

“Mhm,” Cassian responds, giving my body a squeeze. “She's gonna be alright?”

“Yeah,” Xaden added. “She always recovers really well. She’s not afraid to tell us what she needs. But by this point we know what she needs.”

“My only request is a bath.”

“See?” Xaden chuckles, then plants a kiss on my head. “Feeling okay? Not too lightheaded?”

I make a noise that sorta sounds like an ‘mhm’, but it kinda comes out as a garbled mess. All three of them give a laugh.

“That was… more fun than I thought it was going to me,” Cassian sighed contently, padding down the hallway to one of the bedrooms. I'm set gently on the bed, propped up against Cassian. I am way too tired to open my eyes, but my ears track them all around the room. I can smell the soft lavender wafting from the bathroom. Hallelujah.

“Yeah, I’m glad you joined,” Xaden agreed, his fingers beginning to braid sections of my hair. “We’re just waiting on the tub to fill up, pretty girl. Then we’ll get cleaned up and go to bed. You did such an amazing job, taking us all like that. And the game? We’re going to have some more fun with that, aren’t we?”

“Yes we are,” I nodded, peeking open my eyes to find them all huddled around me. Azriel smiles sweetly, cupping my face, stroking his thumb back and forth across my cheek. “Hi.”

“Hey,” he whispers. “Feeling better?”

“Yeah,” I nod, clenching my hands to get some of the tingling to go away. “It was so hot in there.”

“We even turned down the heat before you got in there,” Xaden explained, tucking some hair behind my ear. “Did you have fun?”

“I always do, did you?” I asked, looking up at Cassian.

“In the beginning I was a little unsure but… now I’m hoping you’ll send word any time you wanna play again,” He grins, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. “You were unbelievable.”

“Isn’t she something else?” Azriel looks at me fondly. “Baths ready, want to be by yourself or do you want one of us in there with you? Or… well, I guess we all can fit if that's what you want.”

“Well I’m certainly not going to wash my own hair,” I grin.

They all share a look, smiles creeping onto their mouths.

“I’ll get the shampoo,” Azriel winks.

“I call the conditioner,” Xaden stands, following Azriel into the bathroom.

I can’t help but laugh.

“Are they always like this?” Cassian watches as they root around in a cabinet, smelling the different bottles.

“Yes, they’re too kind to me.”

“I think it’s well earned,” he smiles, helping me stand. “Come on, let's go.”

I let him lead me in, making sure I get a good look at his ass. Damn. just… damn.

“I could ask Feyre to commission a painting, it’ll last longer,” he says cockily.

I give it a smack. With a helping hand from Azriel, I sink into the tub, and let the water cool off my skin. I lean back, wondering how I got so damn lucky.

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tryslora · 6 months

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On Writing Combat and Sex Scenes

Today I want to talk about writing sex and combat (and no, I do not mean combative sex). This post is inspired by a few recent events:

Once, a long time ago, I read a blog post that said “if you can write a combat scene, you can write a sex scene” and that was mind-blowing for me because while I was well-versed in writing erotica, I couldn’t write combat to save my life.

More recently, at Boskone, I participated on a panel about writing combat, and the research involved there-in.

Even more recently, I had someone look at me say, “You’re not a gay guy. How do you write gay sex scenes?”

So. Let’s begin.

I get it—sex and combat aren’t interchangeable. But at their core, they have some strong similarities which can be leveraged while writing. Both are intense, high drama, and can involve a lot of anxiety and quick thought. Both tend to narrow focus down to the moment and the current feeling and action. Both are heightened emotion and physical reaction. Both can involve actions that lie outside the author’s personal experience.

I started writing erotica when I was a freshman in college. I posted it online (does anyone remember rec.arts.erotica?) and was surprised (and pleased) by the compliments I received. Turned out my readers were not expecting the idea of emotion being entangled in their erotica. They were invested emotionally in how the stories went, and how my characters felt. Since I was writing from the point of view that made sense to me at the time, they were het stories from a female perspective, and they were very focused on the emotional connections and how the physical events heightened those emotions.

Male readers were surprised by the intensity of the feelings that these stories gave them (as opposed to pure arousal). It got me thinking about how I wrote, and why I wrote, and I tried to talk about it some at the time. I was eighteen. I was still a new writer. The internet itself was new. I wasn’t entirely certain how to frame it, but I remember getting one comment where a guy was surprised at how struck he’d been by the moment in the scene where everything shuddered to a halt due to an event in the story that interrupted the action, and I replied that that was because I wasn’t writing about the sex. I was writing about the character’s reaction to the sex.

Which has always been how I write. At the time, that was my only tool: put myself in the character’s mind, and write what they feel. If that’s affection and attraction and physical reaction, write that. Tangle it up, and hope the reader feels that entanglement.

Now, fast forward several years, and take a little side trip onto a tangent wherein I learned something very important about writing craft.

I was reading Syne Mitchell’s End in Fire, I think it was, and I kept having panic attacks. Now, I did most of my reading late, often when I woke in the middle of the night due to stress, or just because my brain refused to rest. I was in a rough place in life in general, with a lot of external work stuff going on and very small children. I wasn’t sleeping well. And it took me some time to figure out why I was struggling to read a book which I actually loved (and when I read it later in life, I enjoyed it greatly).

It was the sentence structure.

In order to induce the emotion of the scene, the sentences were short. Sharp. Quick. There was no time for the reader to breathe, much like there was no time for the heroine to do anything but act. The reader was caught up in the rising tension, to the point where my anxious, sleep-deprived brain, caught a panic attack from it.

The technique was brilliant.

Now back to our original timeline, wherein I read a post about how if you can write combat, you can write sex scenes. This post assumed that more people felt comfortable writing violence than sex. I was the reverse. I’d been writing about sex for over a decade when I saw this post, and it made a light bulb go off in my brain.

If writing sex was like writing combat… was the reverse also true? Could I improve my skills at writing battles by analyzing what worked when I wrote erotica?

So I tried doing just that. Back then, I found combat overwhelming. There was so much going on, and I was trying so hard to write good description that I lost all of the intensity. I was focusing on everything that was going on at the same time.

Thinking about how sex scenes were all intense emotion and narrowed focus, I applied that to my combat scenes. I wrote only what the point of view character experienced, and tied everything to their actions and reactions. I thought about how they breathed, how they moved, how they thought. I used those short, sharp sentences as they processed the scene.

That doesn’t mean I forgot about everything else going on in the scene. That’s impossible. After all, in any story the things the character doesn’t pay attention to might be as important as the things they do focus on. Stuff still happens, and there is still fallout. I needed to know what else was happening so that if the character moved from one place to another, or did something that put them in the path of a different part of the action, I could have them start processing it.

But it also meant that on the page, out of sight was out of mind. Everything narrowed down to the now. The immediacy. Suddenly my combat scenes snapped into focus.

During the panel at Boskone, all of the panelists had experience with different fighting styles (fencing, street combat, and of course, me with taekwondo). I spoke about how for me, that narrow focus is very real when I spar. I know there are some people who naturally see a move or two ahead while fighting; I don’t. I am stuck in act and react mode. Can I kick them now? Can I attempt a head shot? Oh, no, circle back and away or they’re going to hit me… that’s how my brain works during a sparring match.

It’s not like a total blackout—there should be a vague awareness of things around the character. Sounds in particular, or sometimes flashes of movement. Something distracting can catch the attention of the fighter, but the personal fight will always pull the character back.

Combat feels easy when I’m writing like that.

Of course, there’s still the question of writing about something if I’ve never experienced it. As someone did point out to me: I am not a gay man, so how does that affect writing sex scenes? I’ve also never fought with a sword. Brawled. Fought from horseback. I have, however, held a blade, shot a gun, shot an arrow, rode a horse. I have a vague idea of how these things work, much like I have a working knowledge of sex in general.

So yes, research gets involved. Sometimes research is observational, sometimes it’s reading (there’s so much good stuff out there). I highly recommend video for combat scenes—find things that have the feel that you’re going for, then put yourself in the place of the character you want to write about. Practice. Work through the ideas of how things fit together, and what your character will (and will not!) know during the fight.

If you need to, stand up and block the scene by thinking about how you would experience it. What can you see, and what is out of sight? If someone is coming at you with a blade, what are your options? How do height differences affect you? Yes, I have asked friends and husband to help me block scenes.

“Stand right there and show me what it looks like if you punch me. Okay, so if I do this then…” Yeah. It’s a thing. But it works.

When doing your research, remember that movie fighting (and hell, movie sex scenes) isn’t realistic. It’s meant to look good. For combat, if you can find re-enactments, or sparring videos, I highly recommend taking a look at those.

Anyway, the point is: I don’t have to have shot someone, and I don’t have to have had gay sex in order to write about them. What I do need to know is how it feels emotionally to do those things, and I can extrapolate that from what I do know. I need to know enough about the details so I can get it right, and that’s where research will help me. Also, use language to create emotion. Because emotions are where we grab the reader, and how we pull them into the scene.

Combat and sex aren’t so different when it comes to writing, and the personal experience. Now, go forth and write!

#writing #writing resources #writing sex #writing combat

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baptismbaby · 11 months

Text

✿ SMITTEN

soft!ellie x reader

summary: you and ellie have been together for three months. you felt it was finally time to take the relationship a step further.

warnings: fingering (r!receiving). that's it rlly. super sweet and has some fluff.

a/n: super short, I'm sorry!! it's hard writing fluff for some reason lol. sorry this isn't my best work:( brain was refusing to work with me on this one. rewrote it three times.

wc: 1.7k<3

Ellie Williams was in love.

Her heart was so full and she always wore a smile no matter where she went. She felt like the luckiest girl in the world. You met Ellie a couple years ago when you moved into Jackson. The two of you quickly hit it off and became close friends. Wherever Ellie was, you were there too. It became a thing in your friend group. If Ellie was nowhere to be seen, you were bombarded with questions asking if she was okay. The two of you always went on patrol together and very rarely went with anyone else. Ellie knew she had feelings for you for a long time but hid it from you. It wasn’t until a couple months ago when you finally admitted your own. You two were at your place watching a movie on the couch but not really paying attention. Instead, you were talking about old relationships and flings. When Cat was brought up, you let it slip that you were jealous of their relationship. Ellie kept prodding you to tell her what you meant by that but you refused until she finally kissed you. The next day, she was already bragging to Jesse and Dina about how you were finally her girlfriend.

Although the two of you have only been dating a few months, it felt like it was longer. The only change since entering a relationship with Ellie was that the two of you would kiss, hold hands, and cuddle. You were happy and comfortable in your relationship with Ellie but wanted to take it a step further. You were at your house with Ellie, who sat on the bed watching you pack your bag for the week. You practically lived with her at this point, only going to your place to exchange clothes.

“You wanna watch a movie when we get to mine?” asked Ellie, her head tilted and wearing a smile. You grinned back at her and nodded in agreement. “Good. I already have something picked out. I think you’ll like it.”

“And if I don’t?” you teased, sending Ellie a playful smirk. Ellie got up, pressing her chest against your back and wrapping her arms around you. You giggled as she picked you up and fell back onto the bed, your body now next to hers on the mattress. She crawled on top of you and gave you a quick, sweet kiss.

“I actually don’t know,” Ellie finally said. “I just wanted to kiss you.”

You smacked Ellie’s arm gently, shoving her off and getting back up. “You’re such a sap!”

“Mmm, not really.”

“Then what was that?”

“What was what?” questioned Ellie, trying hard to hide the smile growing on her lips. You rolled your eyes and decided not to answer, continuing to throw clothes in your bag. Ellie got up again and grabbed you. “Oh, you mean this?” Once again you were thrown on the bed, Ellie hovering over you and planting kisses on your neck as you laughed. You got quiet when she nibbled on your neck.

“E-Ellie?”

“Hm?”

“What are you doing?”

Ellie pulled away, her face red from embarrassment. “Oh, sorry. I thought you’d like that,” she mumbled. The truth was that you did like it but was unsure what to say.

“Don’t be sorry, baby. It was nice. I just wasn’t expecting it.”

Ellie grinned, leaning back down to kiss you. You kissed back, wrapping your arms around her neck and pulling her to deepen the kiss. A groan came from Ellie’s throat when you gently tugged her short hair. You pulled away and stared up at her in awe. “What are you doing?” she asked this time.

“I thought you’d like that,” you replied.

“I do-I did, I mean. Yeah, it was nice.”

Ellie was suddenly aware of the wetness in her boxers. You looked so beautiful underneath her, your hair sprawled out around your head. Ellie wanted nothing more than to undress you and fuck you right here but that was something neither of you have even brought up yet. Ellie refused to ask because she didn’t want you to feel like she was pressuring you, meanwhile you were afraid to ask because it made you nervous. You were planning on mentioning it today and thought now would be the perfect time.

“Do you think we could… um… try something new?”

Ellie’s heart skipped a beat. “What do you wanna try, babe?”

“I was thinking that… um,” you trailed off, suddenly realizing how embarrassing it would be to ask. Even though you trust Ellie and you’re comfortable with her, you felt shy.

“C’mon, tell me,” Ellie urged. “You know you can tell me anything.”

You pouted and hid your face behind your hands. “God, this is embarrassing!”

“Sex?” Ellie suddenly asked. You peeked through your fingers and shrugged.

“Kinda? I’m not sure if I’m ready for sex sex but other things, yes.”

Ellie grinned and rolled off to the side of you, holding herself up with her arm and using her tatted one to pull you closer to her. “You want me to start?”

You nodded. “Yes, please.”

Ellie leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, then your cheek, nose, other cheek until she made it to your lips. The kiss was slow at first, her tongue brushing against your bottom lip so she could put it in your mouth. It became passionate, almost sloppy and desperate as her hands traveled down your body and stopped just above the waistband of your sweatpants. “Take this off,” she whispered against your lips. You lifted your hips off the bed and shoved them down quickly, revealing a black lacy thong. You usually wore boy shorts. Ellie glanced down at your panties and took a double take, her mouth slightly open in shock. “Fuck, babe. You put this on just for me?”

“Mhm,” you replied.

“Such a sweet girl. You should wear these more often.” Ellie stuck her hand down the front of the lacy thong and rested it against your heat. She could feel your slick gathering all over her fingers before she even had a chance to dip them between your slit. She moaned softly, feeling her own cunt grow wetter. She placed her middle finger on your clit, eliciting a gasp from you. She chuckled at your reaction and started to move her finger in a circle, paying close attention to your facial expressions. You hid your face in her shoulder as soft whimpers escaped your lips.

“Hey, don’t hide from me,” Ellie cooed. “I wanna see my pretty girl.”

You rolled your head back and made eye contact with Ellie, her face slightly red and her lips upturned in a smirk. “Is this what you wanted, honey?”

“Mhm!” you whined, bucking your hips forward as she picked up the pace.

“Does that make you feel good?”

“Y-Yes, Ellie.”

“God, you’re so beautiful.”

Ellie’s lips collided with yours once again, another sloppy make out session as she teased your hole with her finger. She finally slipped one in, causing you to moan loudly in her mouth. She pulled away to listen to your sounds of pleasure. It was almost pornographic how filthy you were being, moaning out a string of cuss words and repeating Ellie’s name over and over again. The sound of your wet pussy combined with your obscene noises made Ellie want to ruin you. But she knew better than that, it was the first time the two of you ever did something like this. She didn't want to rush anything. She was fine with moving slow. She loved you so much.

Ellie stuck another finger in, your tight cunt squeezing around her digits as a knot built in your stomach. You could tell you were close but wanted to hold on for as long as you could.

“E-Ellie,” you moaned.

“Yes, baby?”

“I-I’m about to-”

"Let go, baby," Ellie interrupted. "Cum for me."

As the feeling in your stomach grew stronger, your climax getting closer and closer, you couldn’t help but to say the three words you haven't said to Ellie yet. “I-I love you!”

Your orgasm finally hit, your legs trembling and your back arching. Ellie talked you through your orgasm, mumbling praises and saying how much she loved you. She took her hand out of your panties and laid down beside you.

“You don't know how long I’ve waited to hear you say that,” whispered Ellie. You looked over at her, a smile growing on your face as you tried to catch your breath. Ellie wrapped an arm around you and pulled you closer. “You did so good, baby. Do you feel okay?”

You nodded, still unsure if you could even speak. Your throat felt sore. You tried to raise up to get water but quickly laid back down again, your body too weak to move. Ellie chuckled. “You need something, honey?”

“W-Water," you responded, your voice slightly raspy. Ellie looked around until her eyes landed on the water bottle sitting on your dresser. She reached over and grabbed it, opening it up for you and raising your head up so you could get a drink. She set it back down once you finished.

“M-Much better,” you said after clearing your throat. “That was really good, Ellie. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

The two of you laid there silently, holding each other close and thinking about what just occurred.

“Ellie, I meant what I said,” you vocalized. “I really love you.”

Ellie smiled, her tummy fluttering at your words. “I love you too, dork.”

You huffed. “Hey, don’t call me dork!”

“You're my dork,” Ellie continued, ignoring the soft blows to her shoulder. “You wouldn't be so mad if it wasn't true.”

“Oh shut it, Els,” you laughed. You rested your head on her shoulder and held her tighter. You wanted to ask if you could return the favor. You wanted to make Ellie feel good too but you were getting drowsy, your eyelids growing heavy. You gave in and shut them, falling asleep a couple minutes later. Ellie’s smile never went away. She couldn't stop thinking about you admitting you loved her too. She was one lucky girl.

#ellie williams #ellie williams x you #ellie williams tlou2 #ellie williams x reader #tlou2 #ellie williams smut #ellie x fem reader #the last of us #the last of us part two #Ellie williams fluff #soft!ellie williams

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sweatervest-obsessed · 7 months

Note

okay so i'm thinking post!prison reid and reader break up bc he's not ready to be in a relationship after everything that happened in prison. they just don't get back together bc when spence is finally ready it's been a while and they both think it's too late and no one makes a move and they remain as friends UNTIL jj's love confession brings some feelings back onto the surface - reader finds out about it and (cue jeid and their weird, longing glances🥲) has a whole it's all really over moment and then there's distance between her and spencer until there's a confrontation about it and BAM a love confession and second chances😁😁

THIS IS SUCH A MESS but i hope you get my point</33

Um yeah so, absolutely. Some angst for you indeed. I love a convoluted and angsty fight, especially whenever someone is arguing in circles with someone else because they're both just so passionate but angry, anyways, heheh, enjoy!!

WC: 1.5k

TW: Arguing, mentions of violence, mentions of prison, mentions of guns, honestly if you watched CM then that is your TW.

“I just want to know why you’ve been so distant lately. I mean, this is the first time I’m speaking with you one on one in over a week, and it’s because I manage to catch you in the office at nine fucking pm Y/n.”

"So what do you want me to say, Spence? What could I possibly have to say to you? I'm pretty sure Jennifer said everything there is to say."

This caused Spencer to lose all of the oxygen in his body. It froze up. You weren’t supposed to know what JJ had said, no one was supposed to know what JJ had said.

You and Spencer were in the bullpen of the BAU. Luckily for both of you, since it was so late, no one else was there. Neither of you were extremely public when it came to your relationship, which meant neither of you would have chosen to have this conversation fight in a public place, but no one else was around.

I want you to say something you're afraid to say. Something you'd never tell anybody. And you better make it good. Cause if it's not, it's going to be the last thing you ever say. What's it gonna be?

��How did you know about that?” He whispered.

“JJ asked Garcia to go through the footage, apparently she wanted to make sure no one could ever access the audio from it.”

"Y/n I--" Spencer closed his eyes, his jaw set. He didn’t even know what to say at this point. You had both clearly made up your minds about this, yet neither of you wanted to see the carnage, the outcome of it all. So, instead, you chose to stand in the middle of the bullpen, fighting against one another.

Fighting for one another.

"I just don't understand why you're so upset about this."

“Spencer–you didn’t even tell me about it, I had to find out about it from Penelope, and who knows who else she told. You were afraid to tell me, yet that giant genius brain of yours can’t, oh I don't know, comprehend just a teeny tiny little bit why this makes me upset?" For the millionth time this evening, you scoffed.

Something you would never say aloud, not even to your partner. Your deepest, darkest secret. Impress me, or I'll kill him.

"Y/n--"

Spence, I've always loved you. I was just too scared to say it before, and now things are really just too complicated to say it now. I'm sorry, but you should know.

"Fuck Spencer I have been in love with you since I first fucking joined this team." You gasped out. The air around your head got thinner and felt dizzying like you were floating through the air now that this was off your chest. "And I loved you when you asked me on a date. I loved you through Emily's death. I loved you when you asked me to move in with you. I loved you through when Morgan left the team. I loved you through Hotch leaving. I loved you through fucking Cat Adams. I loved you even after I came home one night and you were making out with her against our fucking door. I loved you through every single case and every single flaw. I loved you when you fucking relapsed a few years ago. I even loved you when you went MIA for weeks and then found out you were in a fucking Prison. And I still fucking love you now. But, instead of being together, you asked for a break."

"That's not fair..." He whispered.

"What? Respecting you and your boundaries? Knowing that you needed time to readjust after you had been released, and believing in your promise that once you felt ready to try a relationship again you'd come to me and talk to me about it? And then watching as you fall for JJ all fucking over again? With your stupid fucking glances. This isn't a goddamn tv show Reid, I can see when you both stare at one another across the room, I can see it."

"We don't.."

"You do. You both do. And then, you tell me that Jennifer fucking Jareau is willing to make her last words the fact that she has always loved you and has always been in love with you, and you---" Your voice froze, the sound cutting out. You looked straight at Spencer, not caring about the tears running down your cheeks. You watched as his hand twitched up. When the two of you were dating, Spencer used to wipe away every single of your tears. But now he wouldn't even lift his hand.

"I--what."

You took another breath, trying to calm down, and really think through your words. "This woman who has been your best friend for over a decade just fucking confessed her love for you, in a life-or-death situation, and you're telling me, that she just fucking made it up, pulled it out of her ass, or at least is telling you that she did and now the two of you are going to act like everything is normal and okay?"

"Y/n..."

"You were in love with her for years Spencer. And now, all of a sudden she confesses her love to you, and that changes nothing?"

"No, Y/n, it doesn't. It changes nothing. Does it hurt a bit? Yes. Does it change the fact that I love you? No." Spencer was trying to keep his voice level, hoping you'll continue to match his volume since he didn't want anyone to potentially stumble by and hear your argument. His hand reached for your wrist, but you couldn't bear to feel his skin against yours.

This caused you to let out a water laugh, tears sliding into your mouth, ugly but pouring down your cheeks. A waterfall of grief in all of its rawest forms.

"You still love me."

"Why-Why is that funny."

"I have been waiting to hear those words since you walked out of that fucking prison and the first time I hear it in years, it's because you're trying to justify loving someone else."

"That's not true."

Make it a million and one, you scoffed.

"I have loved you since the moment you first walked through those doors. You were in a pale blue pair of pants, and a black sweater--I remember it because Emily complimented the pants. I spend my whole life loving you and manage to never fully give you every single piece of love I have because there's simply not enough time in the world. I would kill for you. I would go to prison all over again if it meant you would be okay in this world." Spencer ran a hand through his hair, his voice strained. But his eyes never left yours. "Last week, when that unsub had his gun against your head, I fired before he even spoke, not because I assessed it was the right time or whatever fucking excuse I gave to Emily. I fired that bullet because if you died in front of me, I'd......The only thing I was thinking about the entire fucking time JJ and I were stuck in that room was how the fuck I was going to be able to tell you I love you one last time because I wasn't fucking smart enough to take my chance and say it to you every single day."

Your chest was heaving, but you didn't move towards him. It didn't feel right, it didn't feel real.

Spencer was able to take your hand in his, enclosing it between both of his, trying to get you to look at him. "I should have told you the moment I was ready to try a relationship again, but I thought you...I thought you had moved on because I wasn't worth waiting for."

This caused you to laugh again, eyes red from crying. "Don't fucking start with that shit Spencer.''

"I'm telling the god's honest truth."

"I waited for you throughout all of Prison. I waited for you through Maeve. I am still pathetically standing right fucking in front of you, waiting for you to hopefully realize that you still love me."

He kissed your hand. "And I don't deserve you at all for it."

"Do you still love her?"

"Y/n."

"Answer the question, Spencer. Or I'm done. I-I can't do this any longer, watching you....the way she looks at you just--"

Spencer pulled you into his arms, enclosing your body in his arms and kissing the side of your head. "I have always, and will always, love you Y/n Y/l/n. And I want to spend the rest of our lives proving to you that I would choose you, I want you, over and over again."

“That’s not an answer Spencer.” You whispered, rigid in his arms.

“I-I.” He closed his eyes. “I did. And I still do love her, but not like that. I haven’t been i-in love with her since the moment you walked through those doors.”

Spencer felt the weight of your head against his shoulder as you finally conceded and hugged him back, tightly. “Let's go home.” He muttered into your head, waiting patiently for you to hum in agreement.

Neither of you moved though. You both stood there, locked eternally in the other’s embrace, enjoying the peace you felt for the moment, even though tomorrow was a new day, where you would have to sort through how you really felt about all of this.

But tonight, you stood with your arms around your love, forever.

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flemingsfreckles · 3 months

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Physio’s Daughter Part 13 (epilogue)

Jessie Fleming x Reader

The whole series is here!

Warnings: none

WC: 2.5k

A/N: I’m not even sure what to put here, thank you to everyone who read this. I never expected people to like it as much as you all did and I never expected myself to be writing 13 parts but here we are. I appreciate every single person who’s left a like or reblogged or commented or send me asks about this series, I wouldn’t have ever had the motivation or ideas to write this series. Thank you 🥹

I’ve thought about writing some little blurbs/headcannons type things if you guys wanted to hear the details of how I thought the middle 20+ years that this went through would go. If that’s something yall want just feel free to send requests and I’ll write them. (I’m not quite ready to let go of this series of you couldn’t tell)

“You ready for this?” You squeezed Jessie hand tightly, trying to reassure her and give her peace of mind.

“As ready as I think I can be.”

That’s when you hear the announcement.

“And for her final time representing and leading Canada, please welcome Jessie Fleming.”

Jessie looks over at you one more time. You give her a nod and a tight squeeze on her hand before letting her go and she walks out onto the field. The cheering for her is deafening and you hear it for a moment before it all is drowned out by your ears ringing as your brain goes fuzzy at the realization that you’re watching your wife walk onto the field for the last time ever.

You watch as she walks out, looking around and making her way to the middle where a ceremonial framed jersey was waiting for her. You had both cried enough tears over her retirement decision, you had pinky promised that today was going to be a celebration, no tears.

“Mommy!” You feel the tug on your arm and look down to see your and Jessie's four year old daughter tugging on your hand while her other arm waved wildly toward the field. “Can we go with Mama?”

“Just a second baby.” You look down at your daughter, she’s just excited to see her Mama play, she hasn’t quite been able to grasp the idea of Jessie’s retirement. You knew she’d probably be asking when she can go watch her play again in just a few days.

You look back out to watch as Jessie makes her way down the line being hugged by all of her teammates before she gets to where the jersey was. You watch her look at it, then take a second to look around the field, taking in every second. She then takes photos with the coaching staff before she motions to you.

“Go run to Mama.” You let go of your daughter's hand and she runs ahead of you to Jessie. Jessie squats, grabbing your daughter under her arms and lifting her up around her hip. You make your way out onto the field before standing next to Jessie to take a few photos.

You give Jessie a quick peck to the cheek before taking back your daughter and walking off to the side of the pitch. You stand for a minute watching Jessie continue to absorb the moment around her.

“Look at this!” Olivia comes rushing up next to you holding out her camera for you to look at. It’s a photo of your wife from the side, she’s got a big smile on her face and is squatting down, arms stretched out toward your daughter who is also smiling big, running toward Jessie. “You two seriously have the cutest kid.”

“Soon to be cutest kids.” You whisper to her putting emphasis on the ‘s’. Olivia turns to you, mouth wide before looking down at your stomach.

“Are you?”

Her face lights up as you give her a nod, “We just found out a few weeks ago.”

“Oh my gosh! Congratulations!” Olivia pulls you into a hug. She then passes you a piece of paper with a note before giving you a wink. Her eyes get really wide for a second and she says “don’t drink the champagne,” before heading back to take more photos of the pregame ceremonies.

You make your way up to the reserved box, all of Jessie’s family attending the game as well as many of her former teammates. Your daughter was quick to run to her grandparents, excited to see them.

“Not working today?” Janine says coming up beside you. She hands you a drink and you give her a look questioning what was in the cup. “It’s just cranberry juice. Congratulations by the way, Jessie told me so we could make sure we have non-alcoholic stuff at the retirement party.”

“Thank you and yeah, I took the day off, thankfully Canada Soccer understood the importance of attending my own wife’s retirement game.” You had finished up school nearly 14 years ago, getting hired back immediately by Canada Soccer. That’s when you and Jessie had to be upfront with your relationship, disclosing it to HR and management before you signed the contract. Your relationship meant you were no longer able to handle Jessie’s treatments yourself but you were able to keep your job and still work closely with her.

The two of you had been dating for just over a year at that point, the first few months of long distance were hard, having to figure out communication expectations along with both of you juggling busy schedules. But you put in the work and effort and managed to figure it out together. You visited Jessie when you could and she’d visit you, FaceTime was your saving grace being able to see her face most days. You did silly little dates where you’d read together on FaceTime, not speaking but still as if she was in the room with you. You’d cook the same meal and eat together, you watch TV series together, she’d help quiz you for exams, the two of you made it work.

When you first told your Mom you were still talking with Jessie she didn’t think much of it, to be fair you didn’t give her the impression the two of you were together. You had planned on it, but chickened out and made it seem like a friendship. It wasn’t until almost six months into dating that you finally told your Mom. You and Jessie had talked about spending the holidays together, back in your hometown with your Mom. When you asked if your girlfriend could spend a couple days, your Mom was confused, never having met or heard a mention of a girlfriend on your end. She insisted she meet the girl first, to which you had to explain she had met the girl, she actually worked with her. Your Mom was able to put together the hints and realize you and Jessie were dating. She still scolded you just as she had when she caught the two of you kissing. Worried about the age difference, worried you’d never find a job if people knew, worried about the traveling and long distance, she went on and on for a while. But with some extra begging, she agreed to let Jessie come for the holidays and you formally introduced her as your girlfriend. Your Mom was quick to come around on your relationship once she saw how you and Jessie interacted, how happy she made you, it only took a couple hours before your Mom was getting out the scrapbooks to show Jessie embarrassing baby photos of you.

You started as a trainer with the Canadian team just after graduation, in a similar role as you had been for the team that one summer. You stayed in that position for a while before your Mom retired. Your Mom had previously taken over for Mark when he retired and you were given the promotion to that same position as the head of staff. This meant less hands on work and more administrative business, while a little less fun for you, it meant you could work from home whenever you needed to or just wanted to. You’d come in when the team was in or when you needed access to the facilities but when the girls returned to their club teams, you’d often follow Jessie to Portland and the two of you would live there.

Within the past few years you had been offered the opportunity to create a new position to oversee the physio and training staff as well as working with the player performance team. You loved your new position, you worked with the coaches, the nutritionists, the team doctors, the players themselves, all to work on creating training plans that made your players better while keeping them healthy and safe. You were going to continue to work after Jessie’s retirement despite how much she tries to convince you that you could both retire now, you loved your job too much to leave it quite yet.

It was five years into your relationship when you finally proposed. You had known for a long time that you were going to marry Jessie, but the two of you weren’t in any rush, the commitment to each other was always the same, married or not. You had taken her on a picnic to a wildflower field you found. Picnics became a staple date in your and Jessie’s relationship ever since your first one. You had waited for her to look away, to get distracted by a flower and you quickly scrambled to get on one knee, ring box open and facing her. She of course said yes once she recovered from the initial surprise and the two of you got married a year later. You had a small ceremony, only a couple people in attendance, keeping it easy. You instead hosted a large reception, with Jessie’s teammates, your coworkers, both of your friend and family, you couldn’t have asked for a more perfect start to your married life.

It was just a year into your marriage when the idea of having a baby started to float around more and more in both of your minds. You had talked about kids while you were dating but it was all talk, you both not quite ready to settle down with a child yet. But after seeing Jessie with her teammates kids weekend after weekend at Portland you couldn’t help but long for that to be your kid in her arms. So one day you simply asked Jessie. You asked if she’d be interested in getting a consultation together to see what your options were as far as having a kid. She agreed happily and you two found yourselves quickly in the seats of a fertility clinic, getting started with the IVF process. It took a couple rounds before you got the positive test and nine months later the two of you had a healthy baby girl.

The sleepless nights and traveling with a baby was not easy. It was especially hard when Jessie would be away from club games and you were left to parent alone. Thankfully your friends and family were always there to help out, knowing how crazy Jessie’s travel can be. All the chaos and exhaustion was worth it everytime you got to watch your daughter totter around wearing your wife’s jersey, just as you got to see today as she ran to Jessie for her final game.

Jessie’s decision to retire hadn’t been easy but you both knew it was time and she was settled with her decision. So now you stood watching the last few minutes of her career play out in front of you. You had been ushered back down to the field sideline by security so you could greet your wife and as the final whistle blew you watched as Jessie moved to the center of the field before sitting down. Her hands move to her boots and she slowly unties them before sliding them off her feet and you can practically see her heart break. She’s taking deep breaths the way her shoulders and chest are rising, most likely trying to keep her emotions at bay. Her teammates and the opposing team’s players made their way to her congratulating her, giving her their praises. You walked to her, your daughter in your arms. She stood up to greet you and you could see the tears in her eyes, quickly causing your own to well up.

“I’m so proud of you.” You whispered to her as she pulled you into an incredibly tight hug. “I love you.”

“I love you.”

“You okay?” You say when you pull back from her, you let your forehead rest on hers, not caring about the sticky feeling of her sweat.

“Yeah, it’s just weird, that was it after 24 years on this team. I’ll never do that again.” She seems to be in a state of shock, not quite believing that she would never play for Canada again.

“I know.” You rub her back gently as your daughter blabs on about a bird that’s flying overhead.

Jessie is quickly swept away for interview after interview. You and your daughter make your way around the pitch talking with Jessie’s teammates to kill time before everyone heads back into the locker rooms and the stadium crowd clears out.

You find Jessie’s parents, who graciously offered to watch their granddaughter for the night so you and Jessie could have the evening to yourself. They knew their daughter would likely need an evening of relaxation and reflection after the long day of celebration which might not be possible if she was being asked to build legos or color or play dress up.

“Hey, she’s the last one in there, I’m not sure how long she’ll be. She’s just standing there, you might want to go in and check on her.” Jordyn says as she and Julia exit the locker room and see you waiting for Jessie.

“Thank you.” You take Jordyn’s suggestion and enter the locker room. There’s Jessie, she’s changed, wearing sweatpants and a shirt, standing in front of her cubby staring at the name plate above it with her name, number, and a large C on it. You come up and hug her from behind, not saying much, just being with her. It’s quiet but finally Jessie grabs the name plate, sliding it off the cubby and puts it in her bag.

“Alright let’s go, I don’t want to keep people waiting at the party.” Jessie says. Janine and Sinc had organized a small retirement party for later that night, you and Jessie had both put heavy emphasis on it being a small party, thankfully you still had a couple of hours.

“There’s something I wanted to do first, if you’re up for it. The party isn’t for a couple hours. We have time.” Jessie nods. Youre happy that she’s agreeing and that she trusts you aren’t going to make her do something crazy after playing her last ever game. You take her hand pulling her from the dressing room, down the hall, and back in the direction of the pitch. You walk with her until you come to the middle of the pitch. “Sit.” You point to the grass before taking off running to one tunnel, the one Olivia had written on her note and grabbing the basket she had left for the two of you. You make your way back to Jessie and open the basket pulling out a bottle of champagne and a single glass.

“Olivia didn’t know I was pregnant when she set this up, I told her today though. She got a really cute photo of you and Emery.” You say to Jessie before pouring her a glass and getting out some of the snacks she had packed.

Jessie laughs to herself. “Remember when I thought the two of you were together.”

“I still can’t believe you thought that.” You shake your head thinking back to the screaming match you and Jessie had in the hotel, all because both of you were silly, immature, young adults who didn’t know how to talk to each other about your feelings. “You were so jealous.”

“Was not!”

“You so were.”

“Fine I was, but it turned out pretty great for me.” She crosses her arms across her chest pretending to be mad.

“Yeah, we turned out alright.”

The two of you fall into a silence, you wait for Jessie to speak. You want to let Jessie have the time to think through all of her thoughts, feel all of her emotions, take her time sitting on the field.

“I love you.”

“I love you Jessie.” You respond as she plops her head onto your shoulder.

“This is just like our first date, when you brought me to the field in Paris.”

“I know. And I knew how much you appreciated that. So I just wanted to make sure you were able to soak it all in for one last time.”

#jessie fleming #jflem #jessie fleming x reader #jessie fleming imagine #woso imagine #woso x reader #jessie fleming blurb #canwnt x reader

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sports-on-sundays · 2 months

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Ahhh okay okay okay so inspired by Fermin having a gf now ( sad hours ) but anyway !! What if y/n has feeling for Fermin and she gets the courage to tell him about her feelings buuut she finds out that he has a gf and she starts to move on with Charles or Arthur 🤭 and Fermin finds out about her feelings but it’s already to late !

too late / Arthur Leclerc

Summary: Arthur x female!reader - When you find out your crush has a girlfriend, you start to move onto someone else. But when you're old crush, Fermín, finds out you once had feelings for him, though he's not sure anything would have changed, he still, for some reason, wished he would have known.

Warnings: a bit of anxiety/nervous energy, vertigo, swear

Requested?: Yes.

You sit on a bench outside a cute little coffee shop, listening as the person talking to you on the other side of the phone finishes, "...so yeah, anyways, it's super cool I got to meet you!"

"Yeah," you smile broadly. "You'll have to introduce me to your brother, too."

"Oh, of course. You know, I think we could be fri-"

"Oh, one second! Looks like my friend is here! Sorry, I got to go!" you respond quickly, your face lighting up to see none other than Fermín López sauntering down the street towards you, the biggest, cutest smile radiating off his handsome face.

"Oh, right, sorry- Nice talking to you!" the man on the phone says quickly with a little laugh.

And you hang up on Arthur Leclerc, popping up off the park bench to meet Fermín, slipping your cellphone into your gold purse. You beam at Fermín, exclaiming, "Hey! Ready to get some coffee?"

"Sure..." he says, a slight hint of confusion in his voice, perhaps at your overly energetic excitement this morning.

Well, that's because he has no idea what you're planning on doing this morning. Naturally.

"Well, you seem like you're in a good mood," the Spanish man says with a little smile, holding the door for you.

"I am! Actually, I'm in a great mood!" you exclaim, beaming.

"Right," he chuckles, eyes sparkling a bit.

Just as you order the coffee, rethinking for the one hundredth time what you're about to do, butterflies well up in your chest, so that the moment you're sitting across from him at the coffee table, you immediately say excitedly, "So, uh, Fermín! I've got... uhm, kind of, I guess, to admit, but also to ask you..."

He smiles a bit, nodding. "Is this why you seem to have all this nervous pent-up energy this morning? Sure, you can tell me anything."

You gulp, your high emotions very suddenly sinking at the thought that Fermín is exactly right.

You're only feeling this nervous because you're a nervous wreck, Y/n! your brain snaps at yourself.

All the sudden, you deflate like a short-lived balloon, releasing a long sigh as your hands immediately reach for a napkin to absently begin anxiously curling. "Um... yeah, so..."

Come on, Y/n. Just say it. A few moments ago, you were so excited...!

You sigh shakily before suddenly blurting, looking up to meet the 21-year-old's brown eyes, "Fermín, I guess I just wanted to say I like you. You're cute, and I... I've kind of had feelings for you for a while now, so..." you falter, feeling so embarrassed and warm, before pushing out the rest: "So, would you like to, like, date me or something? Like, do you feel the same way, I guess?"

"Oh, uhm-" Fermín begins, biting his lip. "Well, uh, thank you so much, Y/n, but..." he trails off as your heart begins to sink in dread.

You feel all the blood rush from your head, feeling a little dizzy. "But what?" you manage.

"But, well..." he smiles nervously, before finishing carefully, "Y/n, I guess you didn't hear, but I have a girlfriend now..."

Immediately, you feel a terrible, crushing, embarrassing shame crash over you, and you lean back, your hands shaking. "Oh- I-" you begin, but decide nothing you're going to say is going to make this situation better for either of you.

So you get up and run out of the coffee shop, leaving your nearly full coffee across the table from Fermín, to get cold and eventually be dumped down the sink.

For the next week, you kind of go into a state of depressed hermitage, out of the pure embarrassment and heartbreak of the single guy who you've been crushing on for over a year getting a girlfriend right before you decide to admit your emotions, basically making you feel like absolute crap. And making you look like a total fool.

You sigh, getting home from work one day and flopping on your couch, about to put on some stupid mindless television show to redirect your thoughts, when suddenly your phone begins ringing on the coffee table. You sigh and pick it up, and just stare at the screen for a few seconds when you see it's none other than Arthur Leclerc.

About a week before the incident with Fermín, so about two weeks ago now, you had the experience of your life, getting to go to a Formula 1 Grand Prix. You happened to, by sheer luck, to run into Arthur Leclerc, who was immediately extremely friendly and seemed to take a specific liking to you. You had a good conversation together, before he said he had to get going, but quickly wrote down his phone number for you, telling you to stay in touch, because he'd love to get to know you more.

So here you are, a heartbroken mess about Fermín López, staring at your phone as Arthur Leclerc tries to call you.

What's up with me and all these famous athlete sports boys?

You sigh, and though you really don't want to- in fact, it's kind of the last thing you feel like doing right now- you answer the call and press the phone to your ear, saying tentatively, "Hello...?"

"Hey, Y/n!" comes the cheery accented voice of the Monégasque. "Just calling, seeing how you're doing, and what you're up to!"

"Oh..." you sigh, not really sure what to say.

But Arthur immediately picks up on your lack of excitement. "Is something wrong?"

You're silent for a few moments, before figuring, Ah, what the heck? Might as well just tell him. The Leclerc's seem like they could be a relatively emotionally intelligent family, anyway, and saying simply, "Well, I haven't been doing so great, because a guy I really have been liking for a while kind of... rejected me. You see, he has a girlfriend, and I didn't know that..." You're still not sure why you're telling Arthur this, but regardless, it feels good to.

"Oh, shit. I'm sorry about that... That sucks... Well..." He's silent for a few seconds, before continuing, "Maybe I have some news that might cheer you up?"

"What?" you ask, not quite sure if anything could cheer you up about Fermín, until you finally just get over him yourself.

But then, just like that, Arthur Leclerc drops, "Would you like to come to the Monaco Grand Prix? I'll be there, and you said you wanted to meet my brother!"

You sit, stunned silent for a few seconds, before finally the rational side of your brain wins over and you say, "Oh, Arthur, I'd love to, but I just don't think I'll be able to. I live in Barcelona; that's not exactly a stroll away from Monte Carlo. And besides that, travelling, food, ticket, and lodging expenses would be through the roof. I'm so incredibly sorry to say this, but I just don't think something like that can work."

"Well, I do think it can work," Arthur suddenly chimes.

You sit in confused silence for a few more seconds, before saying, kind of annoyed at the rich Monaco-dweller, "How can you even say that?"

"Because," he begins, and somehow you can just tell he's smirking, "It's a short flight, and I can pay for your plane ticket, as well as your race ticket, paddock pass, you know, the works. And as for food and lodging, you can stay with me, of course!"

You sit, gaping and completely stunned silent this time, so much so that Arthur has to ask, "Uh... Are you still there, Y/n?"

"I- Y- Yeah, I am... I'm here... I just... Arthur-! Why on earth would you do all that for me?! We only met once! We're basically strangers! This is, like, our fourth conversation ever! You're crazy!"

"Call me crazy, but I've taken a liking to you, I guess. And you're pretty, and have got a heart of gold, and I think it would be cool to make a dream of yours come true. Or- a couple of your dreams come true, even. If that's okay with you!"

"What do you mean, if it's okay with me? Of course it's okay with me, but- it's just-"

"Alright, good, then! It's okay with you! I'll arrange everything for you, then, and I'll see you for the Monaco Grand Prix weekend?"

"I- I mean, I-"

"I'll see you then; au revoir!"

You sit on your couch, slowly taking the phone down away from your ear, just staring at it, your mouth still slightly hanging open, sort of frozen from whatever just happened.

What did just happen?!

"Hey!" Arthur Leclerc beams, swiftly walking up to you and taking your bags straight out of your hands, before teasing, "What, do you never fly? You look thoroughly lost!" He laughs a little.

"No, no," you laugh, snapping out of it, beaming to see the Monégasque man in front of you. "Just... yeah, anyways, great to see you again! And I still can't thank you enough for everything you're doing for m-"

"Oh, just wait to say one big 'thank you' at the end of the weekend, and let yourself enjoy the moment now. Come on, let's get to my house to drop off your stuff, and then, I'll bring you to dinner with my family."

"Wait, sorry, what?!" you ask in shock, following after him. "Did you just say dinner with your family?!"

"Yes, I sure did!" the 23-year-old beams as you catch up to him. "Just you wait and see- you'll love them!"

"This still doesn't feel right... We hardly know each other, and you're bringing me to meet your family?"

"Yeah, of course," Arthur says as he gets out of his car and comes around to open the door for you, before finishing, "I mean, Alexandra is going to be there!"

"Isn't she Charles's girlfriend," you deadpan.

"M-hm," Arthur responds with a little smile. "But it doesn't matter. Besides, if we get to know each other more, maybe one day you will be my girlfriend."

You stop walking up to the house and just stand there, gaping at him. "You're- You're so forward, my God!"

"What?" the older individual teases. "You don't like that?"

"I mean- I don't know- I guess I just wasn't expecting that..."

"Oh," he grins. "Well, it's funny when you gape at me like that. Either way, so far at least, you sure seem like my type." He grabs your wrist and says, pulling you toward the house, "Anyways, on we go!"

"Right..." you breathe, your head swirling from those words said by him.

Dinner is great with Arthur's family, and it's a dream come true to meet the Charles Leclerc (you're a huge fan), but it doesn't, surprisingly enough, get interesting until you make it make to Arthur's home, when he says, upon seeing you yawn, "Want to come to my room, and we can go to bed? I'm sleepy myself; it's been a long day for me, too."

You blink at him hesitantly, saying, "You're saying this in a way suggesting we're both sleeping in your room."

He's silent for a few seconds, before he nervously smiles and says, "Yeah... if that's okay with you."

You stare at him before a few seconds, before saying tentatively, "Okay... I guess."

So later, though you would've never, ever imagined this happening a week ago, you're all in your comfy pajamas, crawling into bed next to none other than Arthur Leclerc.

"You don't think this is... wrong, or anything?" you venture as you lay down.

He snorts, putting his arm around you. "No. Why would it be? We're just cuddling."

"Exactly!"

"And I want to get to know you more. So what's on your mind?"

You sigh. "What's on my mind is that it feels weird to be cuddling with someone the fifth time I've met them."

Suddenly Arthur has a cheeky smile on his face as he jokes, "Have you ever heard of one-night-stands? It means on the first time people meet-"

"Arthur!" you groan, rolling your eyes in slight amusement.

He just pats your shoulder, before a moment of silence follows, that for some reason doesn't feel awkward at all, though you would expect it to.

No, not at all. It's almost comfortable. Nearly comforting.

And when Arthur finally does start talking again, it's nice. He starts a conversation, and now, all the sudden, you feel willing to engage in it with him.

As the night goes further on, your voices become even more hushed, until, after hours of just laying and chatting together, Arthur's arm around you and rubbing your shoulder gently, when he's gently whispering, mid-sentence, you begin to doze.

There's a few seconds of silence from Arthur, until he whispers, "You asleep, Y/n?"

When he gets no response but your gentle, warm, steady breathing, he smiles and cuddles in closer, before closing his eyes and letting himself drift off into peaceful slumber as well.

For the rest of the whole weekend, you have a blast with Arthur in Monaco, every minute spent with him becoming more and more enjoyable. All you can think is that he may have been onto something with all his cuddling and silly flirting.

And now you stand in the Ferrari garage, your whole face lit up, adrenaline pumping through your body as you watch Charles Leclerc cross the finish line before any other driver.

In Monaco.

You feel Arthur's strong arm throw itself around your shoulders, pulling you to his side as he says near your ear, "Oh my God, Y/n... Charles won..."

You laugh a bit before looking up to meet Arthur's sparkling eyes. He's got a huge grin on his face, pure joy radiating off his being, and you squint, seeing a wet glistening on his cheeks, before suddenly realising and exclaiming, "Are you crying?!"

He grins even wider, if that's even possible, and says, his eyes searching yours and finding whatever they were looking for, "Yeah, and so what?"

You breathe shakily and suddenly, though you would've never pictured yourself doing this ever, throw your arms around Arthur Leclerc in a tight embrace. "I'm so happy for you!" you squeal, pressing your cheek into his chest.

"You should be happy for Charles!" he beams, laughing, snatching your hand. "And, anyways, let's go meet him by the finish line and watch him lift his trophy!" And just like that, the two of you are off running to see the 2024 Monaco Grand Prix race winner.

At the beginning of the weekend, you barely knew Arthur Leclerc. He was a nice guy who had shown a bit of interest in you who just so happened to be a rich racer boy from Monaco with a heart of gold. But by the end of the weekend, it almost feels natural to hug him, or pat his shoulder, or hold his hand.

Before the Monaco Grand Prix weekend, your heart and head still ached and pounded every single living moment, second of your time, reminding you of the loss and the jealousy you were feeling concerning Fermín López. Now, it all feels washed away with the affection and friendship that's been shown to you by Arthur Leclerc.

All of the sudden, you don't feel a desperation for Fermín anymore. You're content with having Arthur's contact in your phone, and knowing he's just as interested in you as you are in him.

It feels good when emotions are mutual.

So going back to Barcelona, it's different than when you left for Monaco.

There's a warmth in your chest and an excitement for what's to come, rather than the cold dread and regret you felt in such unbearable amounts when you left.

For days, you can't get Arthur out of your spinning head, and all the things about him you accidentally fell in love with.

But with Fermín, I never really did have a chance... But Arthur? Arthur started this whole thing. Clearly, he likes me.

And just as you're laying in bed in the morning, grinning about that instead of getting up to get dressed, your phone buzzes on your nightstand. You look over and snatch it up, excited that it may be a message from Arthur, but just stare when you open your phone and see it is instead from Fermín.

You don't know how to feel.

You quickly look to see what he's texted you.

Fermín: Hey I saw from your socials you went to the Monaco grand prix. I hope it was fun. want to meet up sometime?

You sigh, staring at that. Before, without a shadow of a doubt, no hesitation, you would have immediately said 'yes,' and been thoroughly excited about it.

But now, something has changed.

You sigh and decide, sort of on a whim, to just call him, instead.

He pick ups after only a few rings with, "Hello?"

"Hi, Fermín... What's up?"

"I'd like to know what's up with you! You went to the Monaco Grand Prix! How was it? Who'd you go with?"

"Oh," you smile a little. "Actually, I went with Charles Leclerc's little brother, Arthur Leclerc. I got to meet Charles and a bunch of the other drivers, but Arthur is famous in his own right, too."

"Oh, wow... Well, cool! So have you known Arthur Leclerc for a while, or...?"

You chuckle. "Actually, no. But he had a great time. I really like him, to be honest. He's really sweet; his whole family is."

"Ah..." Fermín says, kind of trailing off, before picking up and saying, "Oh, I looked up Arthur's Instagram. They're from Monaco, right?"

"Yeah, and Charles won! It was awesome!"

"Oh..." More silence, before Fermín finally says, "There's a picture of you and him on one of his posts... Are you guys dating or something?"

"Huh? No, why?"

"He's kissing your cheek in the picture."

You immediately blush and groan, "Arthur! Why did he post that one?!" You sigh. "No, we're not dating, but we both like each other a lot."

"Oh. You do?"

"Yeah, he's really super sweet. I'm so glad I met him; we really just clicked right away..."

"Oh... that's good to hear..." Fermín responds, not exactly feeling it was, for some reason.

After he gets off the phone with you, as he drives to training, he's deep in thought.

He knows you liked him, and probably did for a while. And asked him on a date soon after he started dating his girlfriend. But there was something about knowing you liked him, and knowing you're so sweet, that...

Perhaps a small little idea in the back of his head said, Well if this doesn't work out, I always know Y/n will be there.

And besides that, he's always valued your friendship so much. It feels weird to hear you moved on so fast to this race car driver dude.

As Fermín pulls into the parking lot, all he can think is a grave, I wish I would've known. I don't know if it would've changed anything, but either way, it's too late now...

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jrswritings · 20 days

Text

Tingles and Giggles - Chapter One - Tyler Owens x Reader

Chapter One - Nice Try, Owens

It was the end of the second tornado-chasing season for (Y/n) and the Storm Riders. A couple of years ago a local bar in Oklahoma named the Dust Devil Dive hosted a yearly celebration party for all the storm chasers to relax and share stories from the year's chases.

Granted, most times it was just your team, a few from Storm Par, another smaller team named Atmosphere Aces, and the Tornado Wranglers. Thankfully when the owners, Kathy and Randy, threw this party they closed the place down to outsiders, which included all of the Tornado Wrangler fans. You and your team got tired of having their fans around constantly just because the leader, if you could call him that, was good-looking and charismatic enough to make any girl who looked at him melt. That man is Tyler Owens.

While, yes, he is good-looking and a smooth talker, he was also reckless and annoying. There were numerous times you had watched him and Boone drive into the middle of a storm in that old red truck of his and put it in park to then shoot fireworks up into the tornado. You’d have to admit that his bravery and respect for the storm were admirable; driving into the middle of a tornado was not as admirable.

You smirked to yourself while sitting at the bar while sipping your whiskey and diet coke thinking of all the crazy stunts the Tornado Wranglers have pulled. You turned your barstool slightly to watch the teams intermingle on the dance floor, forgetting about all the turbulence everyone had gone through the last few weeks.

As Rodney Atkins played throughout the bar, you turned back to the bar and finished your drink hearing everyone sing along at the top of their lungs.

“If you’re going through hell, keep on going, don’t slow down!” They all sang, “If you’re scared, don’t show it, you might get out ‘fore the devil even knows you’re there!”

In the corner of your eye, you could see Tyler playing pool with Dexter while trying to teach Ben, a journalist from a city near London. You smirked while watching Ben try to use the cue to hit the white ball on the table which was basically lined up with the seven ball and one of the corner pockets.

While he took his shot and missed horribly by barely hitting the white ball and almost falling onto the table, you couldn’t help but let out a laugh. That caused Tyler to look up from under his cowboy hat and make eye contact with you.

For a man you didn’t necessarily enjoy talking with, he sure did something to your brain chemistry. You lifted your new drink and slightly tipped it toward him in a cheers manner. He did the same with his beer bottle, the two of you both took a drink and you turned back to the bar where the bartender was asking if you needed anything else.

“I’m good, thanks,” you said, placing your glass back on its chintzy bar coaster. You took your phone out of your pocket and scrolled Facebook for a minute or two to catch up on your family's lives that you had been missing for the last few years while out storm chasing.

“It’s hard for you, too, huh sweetheart?” A voice you knew instantly asked from beside you.

You glanced over and saw Tyler sitting on the stool while putting his bottle on the bar to signal the bartender for another.

“I wish I could go back more and- wait. Why am I telling you my sap story of not seeing my family for the last couple of years?” You laughed, putting your phone down and grabbing your drink.

“Because I’m just another friendly face at the bar?” He said, looking over at you and smiling slightly.

“I don’t know about friendly, but definitely another face,” you said, stirring your straw around.

“Ouch, okay, (Y/n)’s in that type of mood tonight,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I’m in no mood, Tyler,” you stated, “Just stating a fact.”

“I see how it is,” he chuckled, “And to think I was talking to quite a beautiful face.”

This statement took you back slightly, you were used to Tyler picking on you and calling you other things like your last name and calling you Salado, which is the town in Texas you’re from that’s about 45 minutes away from Waco, Texas. Salado is a quaint village with what you can call an artistic flair. While your parents were cattle farmers, you did your chores and spent time with a few favorite cows; you also liked going to the heart of the small town and enjoying the artists painting and sculpting in the parks and the numerous bands playing around the town in the little saloons. That’s where you fell in love with music and tried to pursue it as a second job aside from helping out on the farm as that was a full-time job.

When that fell through, you moved up to Oklahoma to try storm chasing as you had always been in love with storms when you were little. Instead of hiding under the covers or running to your parents, you were at the big picture window in the living room watching the lightning and trees blowing in the wind.

You were jolted from your thoughts by Tyler nudging your elbow with his.

“Hmm?” You asked.

“Dance with me?” He asked, standing up and holding his hand out to you. In the mirror behind the bar, you could see the teams paired up in couples to do their best slow dancing.

You laughed slightly, “Nice try, Owens.”

“Please? We’re the only ones not dancing right now,” he said, taking your hand off your glass and pulling you to the dance floor to the tune of ‘Made For You’ by Jake Owen.

He didn’t give you much of a chance to say no as he pulled you to his chest, his right hand going to your waist and his left finding your hand. You sighed to yourself and put your left on his bicep, which was more muscular feeling than it looked. You figured as long as you were here, you might as well enjoy the dance since the last time you slow danced was with your dad at a friend's wedding.

You weren’t sure if he was just that intoxicated or if he was fully coherent, but he was rubbing small circles with his thumb on your hip while you both swayed to the music. While your body relaxed you took a deep breath in, smelling the mix of leather, dried rain, an almost musky smell, and a hint of sweat. All of it combined made your heart swoon for this crazy cowboy.

“Hey (L/n)?” He whispered in your ear, holding his head close to yours.

“Yeah, Owens?” You whispered back.

“Think maybe sometime I can take you out?”

You looked up at his blueish green eyes that looked down at you with the most sincere look.

“Why?” You asked, giggling slightly, “Why would Tyler Owens want to go out with someone like me?”

“Because the girl I’m holding in my arms is the best woman I’ve met in my years of livin’,” he stated, pressing the bridge of his nose to the top of your head.

“Yeah right, Tyler,” you said, sighing, “Everyone knows you got a thing for Kate.”

“But she is nothing compared to you,” he said, pulling you closer slightly, “Call me crazy, but I fell in love with you when we first met and I knew I’d have to try and get closer to you somehow. I just hate that it’s taken me this long to finally say somethin.”

“I guess I don’t believe you?” You said softly, taking in the scent you’ve grown to want more of.

“I mean it, sweetheart,” he said, “It might be, well, I know it’s the beer talkin’, but everything I’m sayin’ is true. You’re one of the smartest and most beautiful girls I’ve seen. And that’s sayin’ a lot since I’ve seen my fair share of gals.”

“I can’t tell if that last part is an insult or a compliment,” you whispered, Tyler kissing the top of your head softly.

“Always a compliment when it comes to you, baby girl,” he said, pulling away and twirling you as the song ended and ‘Where the Wild Things Are’ by Luke Combs started.

You looked back up at him, his eyes looking back at you with happiness sewn in them.

“I suppose one wouldn’t hurt, just no YouTube star Tyler, got it?” You said, walking back to your seat at the bar. You could feel his eyes on you as you walked away.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, following you to the bar.

“You should probably get back to your game of pool before Ben hurts someone,” you giggle, Tyler looking over and seeing Ben almost hit Boone in the gut with the end of the cue.

“Good call, I’ll be back once we win,” he said while grabbing his beer.

“If you win,” you state, taking a drink of your now watered-down whiskey coke.

“Don’t test me, sweetheart,” he mumbled against your head, kissing it before walking back to Dexter and Ben.

You shook your head and laughed softly. If the tornadoes you chased didn’t do anything to you, this cowboy definitely would.

Want more? Here's Chapter Two! Masterlist :)

#tyler owens #twisters #tyler owens x reader #glen powell #tyler owens x you #tyler owens x y/n #tyler owens twisters #glen powell x reader #glen powell x you #twisters x reader #tyler owens fanfiction

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carmenberzattosgf · 5 months

Note

Hear me out; after dating Carmen for a year you get a tattoo. It’s a decent sized Teddy Bear dressed up like a chef with his initials, C A B, on the Apron and an either the sun and the moon or a star. And he has no idea until one day you are at the restaurant and helping Marcus pipe doughnuts. Your sleeves rolled up and there it is. A teddy bear tattoo. Because to you, while Carmen is rough and tough and can be rude, when he’s with you, he’s so soft and caring. Cuddling you a lot, like a Teddy Bear. So your nickname for him is “Teddy” and when you get home? Best believe he’s going to make you cry from the pleasure as he’s kissing this tattoo-

Oh I adore this ask!

You didn’t think too much about the tattoo. You love Carmen more than anything, a tattoo is no big deal to you. Besides, Carmy has so many random tattoos himself, you decided it was time to get one.

When all is said and done, you get the tattoo on the front of your upper arm, centered in the middle. It’s winter, so you’ve only been in long sleeves for the past couple of days since you got it. In all honesty you’ve practically forgotten about it yourself.

When Marcus calls you over to help him pipe donuts, you roll up your sleeve without even thinking. He draws attention to it first. “That a new tattoo?”

“Oh! Yeah it is! Got it a few days ago.”

“Is it…” he leans in a bit closer to get a better look. It’s then he sees the initials on the apron the teddy bear is wearing. “Oh my god. Is that suppose to be Carmy in teddy bear form?”

You can’t help but laugh at Marcus’ description. “You caught onto that one quick!”

Suddenly you see Carmen walking towards the two of you. “What’s going on over here chefs? How are these donuts coming?”

“They’re coming along chef,” Marcus replies. “Did you see her new tattoo?”

“What new tattoo?” Carmen’s eyebrows raise as he looks at you. Then his eyes trail downwards to where your sleeve is rolled up on your arm. “Oh.”

“I-uh I got it a few days ago. Do you… like it?” Out of the corner of your eye you see Marcus conveniently walk away to another part of the kitchen, leaving you and Carmen alone. Blush spreads over his cheeks as he traces the “C.A.B” with the tip of his finger.

“Did you— did you get this for me?” There’s an awestruck look in his eyes that you can’t quite explain. The answer to his question is obvious, but he needs to hear you say it.

“You’re my Carmy Bear. I wanted to get something to show it.”

That night Carmy shows you just how much the tattoo means to him. He’s already made you cum twice, once with his fingers and once with his tongue, by the time he finally enters you. Your brain is so fuzzy you can barely speak. All you can do is dig your nails into his back as he pounds into you, chasing his own pleasure.

His lips aren’t on your neck, no. Carmy’s mouthing at the tattoo on your arm, moaning into your skin. “L-love you. Love you so fucking much.” He’s practically drooling on your arm, but you don’t care. His hips lose their precision, and he spills deep into you after a few more thrusts, still kissing your tattoo.

He walks into the restaurant about a week later with a brand new tattoo on his arm. It’s a heart with your first two initials inside of it.

“Carmen is that what I think it is?”

“Of course it is, sweetheart. I couldn’t let you be the only one to get a couples tattoo.” His smile is wide, like he can’t contain his joy. “I only got the first two initials because I’m hoping the last one will change soon”

#carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto x reader #the bear #the bear fanfiction #carmen berzatto smut #carmy berzatto smut #carmy bear #carmy berzatto

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brucewaynehater101 · 2 months

Note

I really need more stuff on some Joker Junior angst, along with Jason finding out about Joker Junior. Even better if you wanna pull in the whole Red Hood (Joker/Jason) Attacking Robin (Jason/Tim), both times when Robin was 15 years old and was supposed to be with someone/somewhere safe.

Hmm... I agree that more content about that would be fabulous. I especially love JJ fanart (there's some really cool ones on TikTok).

Fuck it. Here we go:

TW: torture, Joker Junior, violence, blood, flashback, dissociation, derealization, hallucinating(?)

Tim hands fly to his throat in a desperate attempt to rub away the urge to giggle. He's biting his lips hard enough to bleed in order to prevent them from twisting into a panicked grin.

He's pinned to the floor by a man using one of Joker's alias.

Just like old times, eh?

A snicker slips out at that, which only seems to enrage the man in red.

"Something funny, Placeholder?" The voice modulator in the helmet does nothing to hide the clear disdain and wrath curling through Red Hood. His grip tightens over his holsters, but he doesn't pull them out quite yet. The crimson helmet just glares down at Robin.

Red, red, red. He'd look so much better in Green.

Fuck. Note to self, Tim. JJ likes Red Hood.

Robin locks his face down at this revelation to keep a calm facade. He could try to dislodge the knives holding him hostage, but not with the perpetrator towering over him like this. "Nope. My bad, Hood. Got a little distracted. Where were we?"

The crime lord takes a few steps forward until he's next to the trapped bird. Somehow, he makes even the action squatting appear menacing. "This is the part where I torture you. Where I cut off a little bird's wings so you'll never fly again. Maybe then, B will learn."

Robin watches as Hood draws another knife. The crime lord twirls the blade between his fingers and tilts his head. There's a considering glint evident in his body language.

In a sick mockery of comfort, Red Hood trails the knife down Robin's cheek. It's too close to Joker's signs of "affection" after a round of shock treatment.

Junior shudders.

The leather jacket starts to morph into a lavender lounge coat and Tim blinks rapidly to clear his vision.

A sigh of relief escapes his lips when he's able to see Red Hood again.

The crime lord pauses. He tilts his head once more. Tim can feel the gaze studying him, but he's not sure why. He can't tell if the man is genuinely curious or if he's inspecting Robin like a bug trapped in plexiglass.

When the knife leaves his skin, Tim feels his shoulders lose an inch of tension.

"Don't get too comfortable. I've got a few questions before I snap your legs."

Tim can feel a jolt of pain flash through his legs at the claim. He grimaces at the notion of months off field.

Hood leans back onto his heels, fortunately giving the younger teen some space. It doesn't seem intentional, but it's better.

"You've been Robin for two years now?"

When Tim initially refuses to acknowledge the question, Hood raises the knife. Robin sighs and gives a nod.

The man hums and brings the hilt of the knife to his chin. The weird thinking pose blares an alarm in Tim's brain, but he can't quite piece together where he's seen it before.

"About eight months ago, the clown disappeared."

Phantom feelings of electricity run through Tim's body. His muscles twitch under the memory.

Red Hood leans closer. "Where is he?"

Tim can hear -

"You know better than that, Junior. Where's the smile for your old man?"

A desperate giggle bubbles up Tim's throat.

"Come on, son. You wouldn't want to make your mother sad, would you?"

Joker leans over Tim Junior with a wicked grin. He grips a blade and gestures to Junior's lips. "Do you want your dear old Dad to teach you to smile? Again?"

Junior shakes his head frantically as trembling lips split open in a facsimile of a smile. The motion pulls at his stitches scars.

Scars?

That's not-

Junior's smile starts to fall.

Red Hood Joker crosses his arms. "What the fuck are you smiling at?"

Junior still has a smile on his face (it can't drop), but his eyebrows furrow. "Dad?"

Joker flinches back.

Amethyst cloth flickers to bronze leather and then back again. Forest green hair morphs into a cherry red helmet. Junior watches it peer behind its shoulder before Joker's face turns back to him.

"Batman isn't here."

A cackle erupts from Junior's lips and dissolves into a fit of giggles. Joker peers at Tim Junior in confused horror. The kid turns his head more towards the man. A smile stretches and pulls the corner of his lips, highlighting the faint scars.

Junior Tim hears the man take a startled breath in.

"Batsy isn't Dad. Dad-"

Tim frowns as his gaze drifts away from the man. "I killed Dad. He's dead."

He pouts exaggeratedly before Junior dissolves into a fit of giggles. "Bam!" Both of his hands point an imaginary gun Red Hood's Joker's way. "Bam! Bam!" The hands recoil back as if actually shooting the man.

Tears start to stream down Junior's Tim's face. He fights to bring his lips away from a grin.

"Fuck." He's still grining. "Fuck!"

Red Hood, the cause of all of this, is just staring at Tim. He's observing the teen try to bring himself back to sanity inch by stupid fucking inch.

Tim's eyes dart around the room. He takes a deep breath in and, on the exhale, list something he sees. "Chair. Blender. Staff. Kni-"

Several more deep breaths in and out as he ignores all the knives in the room. "Light. Jacket. Cape. Couch. Lemon. Counter."

His hands paw at his utility breath as he keeps breathing. He grasps one of the sour candies and works on opening the wrapper. He pops it into his mouth and continues the breath exercise.

Red Hood is silent as he watches Robin pull himself back into reality.

It takes several more minutes before Robin's breaths return to normal. He lays there looking at the ceiling absolutely drained and done with this whole situation.

Finally, Tim turns his gaze to the crime lord.

"Can you just kill me already or get the fuck out?"

Red Hood responds by pulling off his helmet.

Tim blinks. Sighs. Then starts up his grounding techniques again.

#tim drake #dc comics #dc universe #thank you for the ask!!!!#dc au #jason todd #joker jr #joker junior #i'm not gonna edit this so hopefully it's good enough

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dreamyinception-world · 4 months

Text

𝒜 𝒮𝒾𝓂𝓅𝓁𝑒 𝑅𝑒𝓆𝓊𝑒𝓈𝓉

pairing: Fem Gamer!reader + Jung Wooyoung

w/c: 2k

Genre: Established Relationship, Smut, Slight Angst (woo is a sad boy for two secs)

Summary: On a day of virtual gaming and fun with your friends, a monthly tradition that you all enjoy, your boyfriend arrives home with some small favor that you simply can’t deny.

Tws: Swearing/Foul Language

Sws: Pussy Eating (Woo goes mf IN my guy), Sensory Stimulation/Kink, Hair Pulling, Teasing, Overstimulation, Oral Fixation, Thigh Smothering, Pleasing Sub Woo (for the most part at least), Begging, Pussy Face Fuck, Slight Orgasm Denial

𝕒𝕦𝕥𝕙𝕠𝕣’𝕤 𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕖: If the brain keeps cooking, let her cook as I always say. This is an idea that came to me randomly as I was getting ready in the morning. If anyone would like another part of this shot, please let me know! Otherwise enjoy and please let me know what you think. Thank you!

𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕣 𝔽𝕝𝕦𝕚𝕕 + ℕ𝕠𝕟𝕓𝕚𝕟𝕒𝕣𝕪 𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕞𝕒𝕪 𝕓𝕖 𝕣𝕖𝕢𝕦𝕖𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕕! ℙ𝕝𝕖𝕒𝕤𝕖 𝕝𝕖𝕥 𝕞𝕖 𝕜𝕟𝕠𝕨 𝕚𝕗 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕨𝕠𝕦𝕝𝕕 𝕝𝕚𝕜𝕖 𝕞𝕖 𝕥𝕠 𝕞𝕒𝕜𝕖 𝕚𝕥!

As a reminder, my work is only for those who are eighteen years or older. Anyone who attempts to interact with my work or blog who is underage will be blocked immediately. You have been warned.

©𝒅𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒎𝒚𝒊𝒏𝒄𝒆𝒑𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏-𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒍𝒅 2024 || 𝒑𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒆 𝒅𝒐 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒓𝒆𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒐𝒓 𝒖𝒔𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒐𝒇 𝒎𝒚 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒌 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒎𝒚 𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒎𝒊𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒐𝒏. 𝑻𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒌 𝒚𝒐𝒖 ♡

☆ . ° .*₊° . ☆⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎... ⋙𓆩⟡𓆪⋘ 𝑃𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑖𝑡...⋙. • ☆ . ° ☆

“Hey, Y/N! You missed your shot! What happened?”

“S-Sorry! My computer’s acting weird!”

Your fingers tightened around the ridges of your controller, trying to keep your breathing leveled and your body relaxed.

You could only hope that you didn’t sound too weird on the other line where your friends were talking and having playful banter.

It was game night after all, the titular moment of the month where everyone chooses their favorite game to play for a few hours to relax and unwind from the hustle and bustle of life and its demanding nature.

It had become somewhat a tradition after completing college and going on with your separate lives to keep in touch somehow— even if it meant through pixelated hand to hand combat.

Unfortunately for your friends, and consequently yourself, they didn’t have an oh so loving yet sometimes mischievous boyfriend named Wooyoung to subdue.

Genuinely, the moment of pure suspicion should have come when he entered the room 15 minutes ago, an all too sweet smile lingering on his face as rolled over beside you. With a phone in his hand and otherwise rapt attention to the shooter game your crew had indulged in, you had honestly thought nothing of it.

It wasn’t until about less than halfway through your match that you began to notice his demeanor become a bit..off out of your peripherals.

His glances at you began to linger a bit longer, his eyes combed down your figure with longer glances towards your favorite fluffy panda shorts and matching over the knee socks.

He was debating something, but you were too absorbed in the game with your mic turned on to ask him.

It wasn’t until his hand fell onto your thigh, brushing his thumb against it that you knew something was up.

Once the first match finally came to a close, you excused yourself and muted your mic.

“Baby, do you need to ask me something? You were waiting so long, I’m sorry.”

The boy perked and you almost immediately noticed the way the top of his cheeks began to tinge a light shade of pink.

“Mm, no it’s okay. I don’t want to keep you away from your game-” His words were cut off by a small, loving peck with a warm smile. You cupped his cheeks, hearing your friends chattering on the other line through your headsets.

“It’s okay, I have some time. What is it, Woobie?”

He hesitated, biting the inside of his lip with eyes flickering between your computer screen and your face. The longer he took to respond, the more concerned you started to become.

Were you playing so much that he felt nervous to ask for your attention?

“Wooyoung? Are you-”

“I wanted to taste you.”

Your eyes nearly bugged out. “H-Huh?”

Wooyoung cleared his throat, shifting himself in his computer chair, his eyes glued to the ground.

“We haven’t messed around or anything in a while— I know you’ve been busy and so have I so it’s been difficult for us to both be in the mood and not too tired for it to happen.” He took in a short inhale and looked directly into your eyes.

“But I miss you so badly and it’s driving me crazy..please?”

It took a minute for your mind to system reboot after his confession before you cupped his cheeks, pressing a more lingering kiss onto his lips. When the two of you separated, you searched his face for any lingering feelings besides the evident lust and desire.

My poor baby..

“Yo where the hell is she? I wanna start the next round~”

“I don’t know! Y/N! Are you there?”

“Sorry guys! I needed to help Wooyoung with something. I’ll be there in just a sec!” You released your finger off the speaker button, turning your attention back to your patient lover, waiting for your response still.

With fingers combing lovingly through his hair, you give him a small nod of approval. He almost immediately shakes his head, taking your hand and presses open mouth kisses to the back of them.

“I need to hear you say it. Do you want me to please you?”

You bite the inside of your lip, feeling yourself throb at the sensation of his tongue running slowly against your knuckles. He doesn’t push you for a response, leisurely continuing his actions down your hand to your fingertips.

He fixes you with a calm, yet sweltering stare, finding back a laugh or smile at the way you seemingly shrink back in response.

“O-Okay you can. Just don’t make me mess up too hard on my game. I d-don’t want the others to-AH!”

Wooyoung barely wastes any time after being given the green light, kicking his chair back towards his desk after grabbing the cushion from off of it. He finds his way comfortably on the floor, pulling you forward by your legs and stirring a yelp out of you. He mumbles something about how good you smell and the cuteness of your outfit whilst simultaneously yanking your bottoms off in one fell swoop.

That’s how you got here, with your one leg being held off to the side and the other perched onto your needy boyfriend’s shoulder, panties “unfortunately” being ripped and his tongue dragging against your clit.

You were silently ordered by his glance and a raise of an eyebrow to continue playing your game, biting back a small moan that was threatening to fall past your lips as he glided his tongue up and down your whole core.

He let out a small hum, not loud enough to be heard by anyone but you and him, reaffirming his grip possessively as he languidly spit on your clit. He watched it slowly trickle down before slurping around the slightly puffy bud.

Your muscles tightened in his grasp, mouth drawing open into a small ‘o’ with half lidded eyes, struggling to keep yourself focused enough to follow the orders given by your team.

Every single ounce of the game contrasted with the pure torture that you were being subjected to, albeit by your own approval.

And of course tonight was the one night that he decided to take his time to make every string keeping you together would slowly begin to snap.

He moved his hands up to your waistline, keeping himself pressed against you and rendering your lower half completely at will to him, shifting your dripping cunt up and down against his tongue with dark eyes.

“Take the shot, Y/N! Take it!”

You practically slammed your thumb against the button of your controller, the boom of your weapon cracking into your ears though you barely registered if your aim was even correct. Your body slid a quarter down, controller barely hanging on one hand as you gripped the top of Wooyoung’s hair and rolled down in unison.

“M-Mm!” You pressed your lips together, removing your hand to shakily press a button on your headphones and shoving them off your head with the mic turned away from your mouth, sweat dripping down your chin as you fought the urge to beg.

His lips upturned at the sight of your disheveled look.

Not yet, just a little more.

You held back a whine when his speed slowed, believing that maybe he was going to take mercy on you with the kisses pressed to your inner thighs, and turned your attention back to the game.

Though your movements were slowed from your head nearly spinning, you continued on with the match.

Moments later, he had his eyes on you again, sucking one of your lips hard in his mouth and letting it out with a loud pop.

Before you could even begin to lightly scold him, he pushed down on your mound with his palm and flicked his tongue quickly against your clit before groaning and burying his face into you, sucking on your clit hungrily and messily.

He ignored the mix of drool and juices that ran down his chin and dripped onto the chair. His only care in the world was the way your eyes immediately screwed shut and your chair creaked in protest from being bent backward.

Wooyoung’s eyes nearly rolled at the sensations of your fluffy socks brushing against his ears and pressure of your thighs around his head, brushing his tongue against your entrance before abusing her swollen bud between his lips.

“W-Woo, p-please!” The cry slipped past your lips without a second thought, unable to control the tremble of your thighs and flexing of your stomach muscles as you inched closer to your release.

“You don’t have to beg baby.” He purred, taking the short second to breathe with lips shimmering.

“I’ll give you anything you want and more.”

He dipped his head back down, reveling in the filthy noises that were erupting from your mouth as he slurped loudly, nodding his head and tightening his hold on you hard to keep you from running away from him.

You’ve almost completely forgotten about your game now, instead chasing the sweet high that has you reaching for anything to steady yourself.

With one hand gripping the head of the chair and the other one his head, your whole body jolts with a sharp and shaky moan, cumming on his face.

He wickedly lets out a muffled chuckle, eyes falling closed to collect his prize against your feeble pushes of his head and whines of desperation. Satisfaction on his face, he finally releases you and earns a swift smack to the back of his head.

“Y-You said you weren’t going to distract me too much from my game!”

“I didn’t say anything.” His voice dripped with lust still, moving himself up to your face with a lazy smile. Your eyes narrowed at him with an arm slung around his shoulders, allowing him to enjoy your deep kisses and tongue before you tugged him back by his hair.

“Are you going to punish me? Do it. Please?” You shook your head in disbelief, seeing him smile wide and laugh.

“Yo, Y/N! At least mute your mic if you’re going to have a live session with your boyfriend!”

You push Wooyoung off of you and scramble to slide your headsets back on, only to realize that the button you pressed was for noise cancellation, not muting.

“Oh my god, I cannot believe I had to be subjected to that! And it was in the middle of our game?!”

“Next time, just tap out of the round!”

A chorus of laughter erupted over the call mixed in with you cursing them out through stutters and your burning cheeks, yelling for them to stop teasing you.

Snapping your head around to the doorway, Wooyoung made himself comfortable leaning against the frame, swiping the corner of his mouth with his thumb and lightly sucking on it with a smirk.

“You are so fucking dead.”

.☆ . ° . *₊ ° . ☆. °:. *₊ 🄶🄰🄼🄴 🄾🅅🄴🅁!.. • ☆ ᵗʳʸ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿ!.　 . • ☆ . °:. *₊ ° .☆

𝕥𝕒𝕘𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥: @atiny-piratequeen @atiny-dazzlinglight @kimnamshiks @little-lazuli @catnipacid

.☆ . ° . *₊ ° . ☆. °:. *₊ 🄶🄰🄼🄴 🄾🅅🄴🅁!.. • ☆ ᵗʳʸ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿ!.　 . • ☆ . °:. *₊ ° .☆

#kira kira writes !!#ateez smut #wooyoung smut #wooyoung x reader #kpop smut #ateez fic #wooyoung x fem reader

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talks-with-the-void · 6 months

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Fluid kintypes - identity doesn't need to be static

I used to be a wolf, once. Not in a past-life sense, but in a therian sense - I was a wolf therian and then I wasn't. Sounds weird to you? I'm not surprised!

Something that I have repeatedly been told by other therians and otherkin is "you are what you are and if you find out you are something else - well, then you never were the first thing at all." Especially when I joined the community several years ago, I saw this statement everywhere. But let me tell you: it's not true. I had several different kintypes over the years (side note: we are plural and for the sake of this post I am simplifying some internal structure things. if you want the complicated details, feel free to ask! /gen), started as a wolf therian, then I was a cryptid, a dinosaur, a dragon and some kind of monster. Now I am Khhanivore (from Love, Death and Robots) and Mewtu (from Pokemon, Mewtu is the German spelling) - and a raptor kintype is coming back. (I am also a werewolf, but that's not a kintype, that's just Purely Me And My Whole Essence)

"Okay Istasha, but isn't that just questioning or maybe flickertypes?", you might ask. Fair point, but no.

I honestly never really questioned my kintypes - if I truly question something, it turns out to either be a hearttype or Nothing at All. As for kintypes, I just know - all of us just know what we are, it's like chilling and one day, suddenly, one of us is like "oh, I am a horse. alright, carry on" and that's it. Our kintypes stay with us for several months at least, theoretically they could stay forever but tend to change along the way - which brings me to the next point. They aren't flickertypes either. We only really get fictionflickers and sometimes animalflickers and those are extremely short and always tied to media we are currently consuming - they feel, technically, like kintypes to me. For example, if I watch a lot of Supernatural, I sometimes get an intense feeling of belonging there, of being a non-canon character, of being part of the story, etc. I am this non-canon character in that moment, I might even get pseudo-memories or shifts, but as soon as I don't engage with that show too much again, it instantly fades.

Our kintypes don't work like that. Take my re-emerging dinosaur kintype as an example. I was walking somewhere a few days ago and suddenly had a pahntom sensation in my legs and feet and in the same moment I knew "ah shit, new kintype". I gave it a day because maaayyybe it's nothing? But deep down I already knew what was going on, so I have an Utahraptor kintype now. I am this. I identify as this through and through and it feels like I've always been this way. But it wasn't - a week ago I wasn't a dinosaur and now I am. I did not choose it, I did not engage with any dinosaur media at all, it just happened.

My kintypes have always been changing and trust me when I say I had a complete identity crisis when my wolf kintype first went away. But over the years Ive learned to accepot it - my identy is not static, it never was and it never will be and that's okay!

It doesn't make my kintypes less important or less real and it also doesn't mean I never was a wolf. I was. And then I wasn't.

I honestly think it is so, so damaging to still have this "kintypes are static"-sentient floating around in the community, because that's simply not true for all of us. For me, it honestly even makes more sense this way. Our brain has always been unstable, I lacked a true identity for so long. We grew up with untreated BPD andf although the symptoms are 95% under my control now (read: it's in remission), our brain still has a ton of habits from that time, like clinging onto different things to try and form an identity, to try and fill the void where a person should be. And the fact that the void is filled now, that I finally am enough of a person to fill it, this habit never changed. Our brain still randomly grabs things and makes them one of us, leading to fluid kintypes.

Let me end this with saying: being wrong about a kintype is fine. Figuring out you are X instaed of Y and never were Y is fine. But it is also fine to be X today and Y tomorrow.

I think I've said this before but I'll say it again: we, as a community, need to take our identities less and more serious at the same time. Let's stop the gatekeeping and policing others, let's stop overanalyzing ourselves so much. Let's stop looking for rules and asking "is it possible to be this?" over and over again - because the answer is yes. There are literally no rules as to how, why and what you can be. In order to be otherkin you need to do exactly one thing: identify as The Thing in question. Nothing else. On the other hand, we need to kindly educate those who confuse identify as and identify with, we need to kindly educate young therians who "choose their theriotypes", we need to make sure we are not watered down to being "a fun thing you can do".

I sometimes feel like the focus and effort of this community is in good faith but in the wrong place - static kintypes is one of them.

There are no limits. Be who you are today and if you are something else tomorrow, be that then. <3

#alterhuman #otherkin #alterhumanity #nonhuman #nonhumanity #plurality #psychological otherkin #therian #fluid kintypes

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tommykinard6 · 4 months

Text

TW: past suicide (not main character), past attempted suicide, suicidal ideation, mental health crisis.

The water was dark and choppy below his feet, dangling over the river from where Eddie sat on the bridge.

It was one of those bridges with a good footpath, but tended to be deserted at night so a car only passed Eddie every once in a while. None slowed, not seeing his shadowy figure leaning against one of the pillars. His car was pulled onto the shoulder just off of the bridge and he’d been there just long enough to wish he’d brought a jacket, but not long enough to convince himself to leave.

What was he going home to? An empty house? To a life that no longer felt worth-

No. He shook his head to disperse the thoughts, but he didn’t get up, kicking his feet as he looked at the water far beneath him.

He barely heard the footsteps before someone sat beside him. He turned, ready to say any excuse or to run in case the person was weird, but any words he had died on his tongue when he saw Tommy Kinard sitting beside him. The older man was watching him with a carefully blank face, but his eyes were worried.

Eddie waited for the other man to speak first and an awkward amount of time passed before he realized it was on him. “What are you doing here?”

He then kicked himself. He could’ve struck up a friendly conversation, said anything else to get that worried look out of Tommy’s eyes, but he didn’t and the look only grew deeper.

“Passing by, saw your car. Could ask you the same thing, Eddie. Perilous place to stargaze.”

“I’m fine.” And maybe it was something in his tone or maybe Tommy was never going to be fooled anyway, but his answer only made the worry lines in his friend’s face deeper. “Really. I’m just clearing my thoughts.”

Tommy hummed and looked down at the choppy water below just as a gust of wind washed over them. Eddie shivered. “There’s a nice park across the bridge. That’s a pretty good place to think. Been there a few times myself. Less dangerous than here. Less cold.”

“It’s not too bad.” Eddie was, in fact, freezing, but he could barely feel it. He felt a flicker of irritation that Tommy was still there. He just wanted to be left alone. “Seriously man, I’m good. You on your way to Buck’s?”

Tommy hummed an affirmation. “Yeah, but I’m in no rush. Might sit here for a minute, if you don’t mind. Pay my respects.”

Eddie couldn’t help the curiosity, even over the growing irritation that he tried not to examine too closely. “Your respects?”

“Mhm. Lost someone here about seven years ago.”

“A call?”

“Nah. Someone more personal.”

“I’m sorry.” The irritation died down as he took in Tommy’s distant look.

“He was a bastard, but he deserved better.” Tommy turned to look at Eddie and the younger man felt a little too seen under sharp blue eyes. “Wouldn’t think it, but it’s not an uncommon place to pitch yourself off of. We attended more than a few calls here, back when I was at the 118.”

The irritation flickered back to life and Eddie swallowed around a lump in his throat. “Yeah. We got a call like that last week.”

“Did they survive?”

“No. DOA.”

Tommy hummed softly. “Sorry, man. Those are rough.” He nudged Eddie’s shoulder. “Probably should head back, man. You don’t want to fall in.”

“Seriously, I’m good, man. Thanks. I’m just going to hang out here.”

To his annoyance, Tommy didn’t move. Eddie stared out over the water, shoulders tense as he waited for the other man to either leave or say something. He finally did, voice tentative as he asked, “You doing ok, Eds?”

The irritation snapped into something bigger. “I’d do a lot better alone, Tommy. No offense man, but I really don’t want company right now.” He dared to look over at the pilot and the man’s blank face made him snap, “Seriously, man, you’re acting like I’m going to throw myself off!”

“I did.”

It took a moment to register in Eddie’s brain, but when it did, the irritation flickered out like an extinguished candle. “What?”

“Rather, I tried.” Tommy’s face was stony and he wasn’t looking at Eddie, eyes turned towards the water. “The guy I lost here seven years ago was me, Eddie. Or rather, the man I used to be. And I tried to throw the rest of me in with him. This very spot. It’s the deepest. I jumped from where you’re sitting now.”

Eddie was lost for words, jolted out of his own head for the first time in a while. “But you’re alive.”

“I never hit the water.” Tommy looked down, fiddling with his hoodie string. “Someone caught me as I stepped off, dragged me back onto the bridge no matter how much I screamed for him to let me go.”

Eddie tried to wrap his brain around it, the little pieces of a picture he had no idea existed with the man sitting next to him. “Why?” His voice sounded wrecked.

“I thought my life was over. I thought everything I’d worked for, everything that I’d fought for, was gone. I’d faked being someone I wasn’t until I was and that person was someone I despised but I thought I was protecting myself until that night. I thought I’d given up everything and it was all for nothing. I was going to be ostracized from the only family I had. So I came here to end it all.”

His voice was matter of fact, but quivered slightly towards the end. Eddie floundered for a moment, feeling like he’d been pushed off of the bridge into the cold waters below. “But you were saved?”

“By the person I thought was going to end my life. By one of the people I thought I was dying to avoid. He’d followed me here, knew what I was going to do. He…” Tommy paused, swallowing harshly. “He hated who I was. He wanted me to hide who I was. But he didn’t want me dead. So he pulled me off of this bridge and took me home and didn’t allow me out of his sight until he knew I wasn’t a danger to myself anymore. And then he left my life. He hated who I was too much to stay, but he didn’t hate me enough to let me die.”

There was a lot to unpack there. And if Eddie was a good friend, he would ask more questions, listen to Tommy. But he didn’t think he could be a good friend to anyone right now, including himself. “You think I’m here to jump?”

“You have the same look in your eye that I had in those days leading up to me stepping off of this spot. I don’t know if you’re here to jump Eddie, but I don’t think you’re going to catch yourself either. Like hell am I going to leave you here. So please, Eddie, let me take you off of this bridge, alright? Because I’m not leaving until you do.”

Eddie looked down, lump in his throat as he watched the waves. “But…”

“Trust me, man. It’s a permanent solution to a temporary problem. Because it’s temporary. Chris is coming back and you guys will sort it out. You have a family that loves you and friends that want you. And you have a hell of a lot to live for. So you’re going to come back with me to Evan and you’re going to stay with us. Tomorrow we’re going to call your therapist.” There was a pause. “You have a therapist, right? Cause if not, we’re getting you one.”

Eddie nodded slowly. “Frank.”

And he shouldn’t expect Tommy to know who Frank was, but the man nodded immediately. “LAFD Frank? Good man. We’re calling him.”

Eddie turned to look at Tommy, shivering slightly as he felt the next gust of wind. “But you and Buck-“

“Don’t even think about it. Evan wants you there too.”

“You haven’t told him though.”

“I don’t have to. Eddie, will you let me get you off this bridge?”

And every fiber in Eddie’s being screamed at him to say no, to pull away. But Tommy was there, gaze unwavering and determined. He wasn’t going to take no for an answer. Eddie wasn’t even sure he wanted him to anymore.

He was so confused. He was so tired.

“Ok.”

#tw: mental health #tw: sui attempt #911 abc #911 show #9-1-1 #tommy kinard #evan buckley #eddie diaz #bucktommy #unreliable narrators #tk6 writes #911 season 7 #9 1 1 fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #911 fanfic #tw: suicidal thoughts

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seeingivy · 1 year

Text

it's time to go

actor eren x f!reader

**part of my method acting series

an: im sweating.

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

previous part linked here

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thank you!” you respond.

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

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

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

“No problem. I’m Leila.”

You pause.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You take her hand in yours, squeezing three times.

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

Her face deflates.

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

You sigh.

“Thank you. I-I appreciate that.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You swallow hard.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You wish.

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

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

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

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

“Sorry. Good morning, Eren.”

He smiles.

“I was joking. Did you need something?”

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

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

“What’s wrong?”

“What’s a hot brick?” you ask.

“Huh?”

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

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

“A hot brick is a fully charged battery.”

“Oh. Right. Th-thanks, Eren.”

He puts his hand on your shoulder.

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

“Okay. Thanks, I guess.”

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

“Really?”

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

“Thank you, Eren. Really.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You kick Eren’s leg.

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

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

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

“I was kidding.”

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

You smile.

“Just a little?”

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

You bite back your smile.

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

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

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

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

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

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

You and Eren give each other a look.

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

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

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

“What?” you ask.

“A talk. About sex.”

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

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

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

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

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

“What, Eren?”

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

You smack your hand over his mouth, cheeks burning.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It was horrible.”

A shocked look spreads across her face.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I dunno.”

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

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

Colt frowns.

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

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

“Do you?”

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

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

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

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

“Could you elaborate? On that?”

You swallow hard.

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

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

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

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

She smiles.

“That’s some support system.”

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

She nods.

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

“Yes.”

“Why, if I may ask?”

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

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

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

“And that wasn’t true for them?”

You take a deep breath.

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

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

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

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

“Songs like?”

“London Boy.” you respond.

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

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

“Because?”

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

You sigh.

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

“It’s okay. We-we understand.”

“I don’t think you do.” you whisper.

You can feel the tears pricking your eyes.

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

You swallow down the regret, thick in your throat.

“How so?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

You smile.

“Yeah.”

“Can’t sleep?”

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

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

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

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

“You smell like candy.”

“Don’t go biting me now.”

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

“Eren told me. About Colt.”

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

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

“How do you know?”

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

“It’s not that simple.”

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

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

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

“Y/N.”

“Yeah?” you whisper.

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

Lana groans.

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

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

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

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

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

“You guys are like siblings.”

Lana comes over, hands cupping your face.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do you really think that, Eren?”

His eyes go wide, hands on your shoulders.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“This type of stuff?”

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

You hum, leaning against the counter again.

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

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

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

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

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

You frown.

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

She pauses. Swallowing hard.

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

You smile.

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

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

You smile, leaning your head against your shoulder.

“Dunno. You’re pretty cool too.”

She laughs.

“Yeah?”

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

Lana groans.

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

You smile at Eren, which he returns.

“Can Lana sleep with us?”

He stops smiling.

“Huh?”

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

“Y/N.” he whines.

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

“No thanks, sweet girl.” Lana says.

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

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

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

“That was for you, Lana Bear!”

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

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

You hear Lana smack Eren.

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

“Okay, Lana. Sure thing.”

“I’m serious!”

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

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

You smile.

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

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

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

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

“Friends kiss each other on red carpets?”

“These ones do!” you respond, smiling.

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

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

You smile.

“Eren.”

“Eren.” she repeats, nodding.

“What do you want to know?”

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

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

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

You see the shock spread across her face.

“I just thought-”

You smile.

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

She stops, nodding.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I love you.”

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

“Eren, you-”

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

You swallow hard.

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

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

You swallow hard.

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

You take a deep breath.

“And with that, I quit.”

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

“You’re quitting music?”

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

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

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

Figures.

The only person who comes to your side is Leila.

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

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

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

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

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

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

You flip the pages, again.

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

And again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/N.”

“Yes, Eren?”

“Have you ever been skinny dipping?”

You curl your nose in disgust.

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

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

“Let’s do it.”

“What?”

“Skinny dipping.”

“Eren. Quit being ridiculous.”

He rolls his eyes.

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

“Eren.”

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

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

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

“It-it’s ff-un.” he responds.

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

“Thanks.” he whispers.

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

“Eren. What?”

“Nothing. You.”

“Me?”

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

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

“You sound like a crazy person.”

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

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

It makes sense to you now.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The news clip rings in your head.

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

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

next part linked here

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

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