#i spent many consecutive hours on this | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

w1ldthoughts · 6 months

Text

Roads Less Traveled

A/n: I am working on some anon requests but I figured we could use a little fluffy pick me up after the loss yesterday.

“Are you sure you’re ready for this? It’s a 13 hour drive.”

You laugh, watching him put your bags in the trunk. “Yes I’m aware. You’ve only mentioned it 100 times.”

He takes his hat off, running his hands through his hair and firmly placing the Nike cap back on his head. “I just want to make sure you know what we’re about to get into.”

“I’ve made it through watching your finger explode on national television and now I get to meet your family during bye week. This is the longest time we’ve ever spent together consecutively so I’m excited and totally ready for this.”

Your boyfriend opens the car door for you with a knowing look, “you just want my mom to pull out the photo albums don’t you?”

“The only baby Justin pictures I’ve seen are from the Chargers TikTok babe, it’s not nearly enough. You were so adorable.”

“Were? As in past tense? Ouch.” He pressed a hand against his chest, biting back a smile.

“I mean you can still be adorable if you wanna be. Personally I was leaning more towards extremely handsome, maybe even…sexy?”

His face is turning more red by the minute and you can’t help yourself from digging a deeper hole, pinching his cheek as he jokingly whines for you to stop. “My handsome, gorgeous, adorable man. Come here.” You lean over the console and he closes the distance between you, immediately smiling into the kiss. He outwardly hated compliments but sometimes you swore you could hear his heart sing when you praised him in any way, especially his looks. It not-so-secretly made him feel giddy inside.

“You’re not so bad yourself.” He whispers, pulling away from the kiss and starting the car. “Okay let’s go over who you’re going to meet. This is the big test.”

One of his hands finds itself resting on your thigh, leaving you to peek at the splint on his middle finger on the hand that was still on the steering wheel. Sometimes you wondered how much it must hurt after every game, the constant physical contact with so many weeks in the season to go and your boyfriend’s determination was only growing by the minute. He had no plans of slowing down.

Bringing yourself back into the present moment, you wracked your brain trying to remember all the names.“There’s obviously your family, your mom and dad. Patrick and Mitch. Then your friends Tate, Charlie and Jack, who will be at Charlie’s football game.”

“That was perfect, you’re definitely ready for them. I do apologize in advance though if my parents are overwhelming. Haven’t exactly brought anyone home in a while, well since high school really. And now they’re convinced I made you up and I’m on my way to dying alone.” His smile reaches his ears, exposing a dimple.

The fact that he was bringing you was a big deal already but to know that he’d only really done this a couple times made you feel special. Even if he didn’t really say it, he was falling for you just as much as you were falling for him.

Justin pulls you out of your thoughts when he asks “are you hungry at all? Because I’m thinking about stopping somewhere. I’m starving.”

“Oh yeah, lunch sounds good, I think I saw a Wingstop sign towards this next exit but I can look it up.”

You opted to sit in the car and eat, talking about what you wanted to do and see in Eugene.

“I want the works. Walk me down memory lane and definitely take me to Nike. Feels illegal not to go to a Nike store where it all started. I’m sure you’re looking to add to your endless collection anyway.”

He gives you a pointed look. “It was an endless collection until I met and started dating a thief. Do you know how many of my sweatshirts I found in your closet this morning helping you pack? I was looking for the purple one for weeks.”

That one makes you cackle as you force him to switch you spots so he can get a driving break. “Well I’m sorry! It’s not my fault your clothes are so big and comfortable. And anytime you’re gone I just throw one on and it’s like you’re always with me.”

“Nice save…Catwoman.”

You scoff. “I prefer Robin Hood actually, you know take from the rich and give to the poor. You’re rich so I take from you and give it to myself, the poor.”

“That would work better if I didn’t get most of that stuff for free but that is a pretty solid comparison.” He chuckles softly, nodding his head along to the song. “I didn’t know you were an 80s rock fan.”

“I didn’t either but you played this a few weeks ago while we were making dinner and I’ve been listening to it ever since. You know…I won’t tell anyone if you sing.”

Justin immediately starts shaking his head, “no shot. You’re not doing this to me.” He groans as you turn up the music, singing along to lyrics as he looks on, seemingly unamused.

To your surprise he matches your volume at the chorus, both of you screaming out the words to Pour a Little Sugar on Me by Def Leppard.

“What happens on the road trip stays on the road trip,” he makes you pinky swear.

A few hours later he motions for you to take the next exit, claiming he wants to show you something. It was the perfect time to watch the sunset with a view of Mt. Shasta in the distance. His non-injured hand held yours, walking out to see it while also stretching your legs.

“This is the most beautiful view I’ve ever seen.”

He turned to you with a warm smile, taking it all in. “Yeah...me too.”

You smacked him on the arm without turning to meet his gaze, already feeling his eyes burning holes in the side of your head. “Justin focus. You’re not even looking at the scenery right now.”

“Sorry I just got really distracted by the view right in front of me, it’s kind of become my favorite.” He wraps his arms around you, resting his chin on the top of your head. You were still getting used to the “beard” he’d been sporting.

Turning around in his arms, you finally look up at him, the sight still taking your breath away. “You’re my favorite view too. Wouldn’t mind waking up to you for a while. The rest of my life even.” The last part comes out as a whisper you hope he didn’t catch.

But he did.

“Really? You—you see us doing this, like getting married and spending our lives together?” His lips crunch into a half smile and you want to kiss him senseless.

“Yeah, I do. Which is funny because I’ve never actually been with someone that I see a real future with.”

“Neither have I.” He holds your face in his hands, bringing your lips together softly, the kiss left his entire body buzzing. “Until now.”

#justin herbert #justin herbert x reader #justin herbert imagine #justin herbert fluff #nfl imagine #Justin Herbert fanfic

153 notes · View notes

myosotisa · 2 months

Text

Sleep Well - m.m.

Matt Murdock x Reader

‖ summary: You're still awake when Matt gets home, allowing him the opportunity to coax you into bed with him.

‖ tags: fluff, like rot your teeth sweet fluff. established relatonship, sharing a bed, you know he's daredevil. gender neutral reader, no pronouns, no y/n. nicknames for reader are sweetheart, baby, and buttercup.

‖ word count: 1.4k ‖ Read on AO3

It is with a small amount of concern that Matt notices you’re still awake by the time he gets back from his ‘night job’. He can tell pretty quickly what you’ve been doing all this time – the buzzing hum and the heat coming off of your overworked desktop suggest many, many consecutive hours of playtime.

It’s certainly not the first time he’s found you still awake and gaming when he came home, but it is the 4th night this week. And while it might be a bit hypocritical of him, he’s a bit worried about your lack of sleep after so many late nights.

You must have your headphones on because you don’t react when he drops into the apartment, remaining blissfully focused and unaware as he strips out of his gear and slips into the bathroom to clean up.

He is genuinely surprised when he successfully gets through bandaging a couple scrapes and changing into a pair of pajama pants without drawing your attention. You’re normally pretty aware of your surroundings, even at home during the night, so you must be extremely focused on whatever you’re playing. It’s got him curious, for sure. He normally asks about the games you’re playing; he could listen to you ramble on and on about the gameplay mechanics and storylines and what you enjoy and what you don’t enjoy for hours. He can’t really participate himself, and some of the things you say goes right over his head, but he follows along as best he can and asks follow up questions just because he loves hearing you talk about something you’re passionate about. It helps that you seem to enjoy getting to talk about it too.

Resolving to ask you what you’ve been playing recently that has you so fixated, he finally walks up behind you and lays a careful hand on your shoulder to get your attention.

You still jump in surprise, an inevitability no matter how gentle he was, and immediately slip your headphones off of your ears. “Hey, how long have you been back?”

The corner of his mouth tilts up in amusement as he presses the tips of his fingers into the tense muscles at the base of your neck. “About 15 minutes or so. You were really tuned in.”

Your heartbeat quickens slightly, heat pooling in your face in a show of embarrassment. “Yeah, I guess so. Sorry about that. Everything go okay tonight? Need anything patched up?” You’re quick to turn your rolling chair toward him, legs unfolding from under you as you move to stand, but he uses both hands on your shoulders to keep you firmly seated.

“Everything’s fine, just a couple scrapes and bruises. I’m all cleaned up already,” he reassures you, noticing how you immediately relax back into your chair as his thumbs press into the knots along your shoulders. “Have you been having fun? You’ve been playing a ton recently.”

“Yeah, I’ve kinda put a disgusting amount of hours into this game since it came out,” you admit bashfully, rubbing your palm along your jawline. “I wasn’t planning on staying up again tonight but I guess I lost track of time. Sorry, Matt.”

He chuckles, his voice rougher from time spent playing the Devil, and squeezes your shoulders a few times in what he hopes is a comforting matter. “Why are you apologizing to me? You’re the one who is going to be grumpy in the morning.”

His teasing makes your face heat further, which only delights him more. “Yeah, but you’re going to have to deal with me being grumpy in the morning,” you murmur, looking back over to the screen to click through the process of saving and quitting.

Warm, strong hands still firmly on your loosening shoulders, he leans down to graze the tip of his nose along the shell of your ear. “Well then it’s a good thing I know just how to fix your grumpy moods, isn’t it, sweetheart?” His warm breath skates across your neck to match his low-toned voice, both things together succeeding in sending a shiver down your spine.

Setting your desktop to shut down, along with the lighting around your space, sends the room into a comfortable darkness. “Careful, Murdock,” you warn playfully as you learn back further into his secure touch, “keep saying things like that and we might not be sleeping at all.”

He hums thoughtfully, the sound vibrating deep in his chest, before he presses a firm kiss to your temple and stands upright again. “Well, we can’t have that. I need all the beauty rest I can manage.”

You mumble something along the lines of ‘yeah right’ but don’t resist as he coaxes you out of your desk chair and toward the bedroom. He keeps his hands on you all the way, leading by your shoulders or your hips or your waist. When he deposits you on the edge of your side of the bed, he gives you another sweet kiss on the forehead while a promise to be right back.

He returns with 2 glasses of water, handing one to you and requesting you drink a good portion of it before he brings his own up to his mouth. You’re momentarily distracted by the strong lines of his body as he raises the glass – the subtle bulge of his bicep and the flex of his throat as he greedily swallows the water down. You’re still staring when he lowers his glass again, pink lips glossy with water and his unfocused eyes narrowed slightly in mischief.

“Watching me drink water doesn’t count as drinking water yourself,” he remarks with a cheeky grin, slightly tipping his glass toward you. “Drink up, buttercup.”

Firmly rolling your eyes at his cocky attitude, you still tip back the glass and drink at least half all at once. You hadn’t realized how thirsty you had gotten while gaming, and feel your heart warm with love at Matt having realized that and forcing some water in you to keep you from going to bed dehydrated.

Wonderful, horrible, thoughtful man.

After determining you’ve had enough to satisfy him, he easily takes the glass from you and sets it on the table beside the bed, even though you were more than capable of doing so yourself. By the time he rounds the bed to his side, you’ve tucked yourself beneath the duvet and laid your head down on your pillow. When you’re both fully settled, you let out matching sighs of contentment, which makes you both laugh softly.

“Y’know, as much as I worry about you not getting enough sleep, this is nice.” He rolls onto his side toward you, propping himself up on his elbow as his other hand reaches out to brush against your arm. “Coming home to you still being awake, getting ready for bed with you, having your voice be the last thing I hear before I go to sleep…” He trails off with a happy sigh, looking entirely too warm and cozy and happy for your heart to take.

Scooting across the silk sheets toward him, he easily welcomes you into his arms, folding one around your shoulders as you rest your head on his bare chest. “Matthew, if you don’t stop being so adorable right now, I’m going to eat you.”

He chuckles again, this time more movement than sound, and squeezes you in tighter against his side. He’s radiating warmth – and the lull of his steady breathing and safe hold on you has your eyelids getting heavy fast. Dropping his voice down to a near whisper in the dark, he rasps, “I could say the same thing, baby. But right now we need to get some sleep.”

You hum a noncommittal sound, letting your eyes fall closed as you snuggle into him and settle. After several moments of breathing deeply and enjoying the comfort of the moment, you whisper a, “Hey Matt?”

He mumbles a deep, “Hmm?,” while sounding on the edge of falling asleep already.

Tipping your head back to look up at him, you take a deep breath and feel compelled to remind him, “I love you.”

His lips twist in a smile though his eyes stay blissfully closed. “I love you too, sweetheart. Sleep well.”

thanks for reading, please leave a like and reblog with a comment if you enjoyed!!

#i haven't posted for this fandom before please be gentle #but that catholic man has bewitched me body and soul #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock fanfiction #matt murdock fanfic #daredevil fanfiction #daredevil fanfic #myo4murdock

122 notes · View notes

sunny44 · 9 months

Text

We should talk

Pairing: Max Verstappen x girlfriend!reader

Warnings: none I guess.

Summary: after the fight and the thoughts that your relationship it’s not working anymore, you and Max decide to talk about it.

This is the second part of Business trip, the link of the first chapter is below.

Previous Chapter

After rolling around in bed almost all night trying to sleep I gave up, I kept thinking about last night and that it was the first serious fight we have had in 2 years of relationship and also the first time in our relationship that we slept in bad terms with each other.

I love him and I think I always will, but I was surprised at how naturally those words came out of my mouth that I began to doubt if I still wanted to be in a relationship with him.

Sometimes loving a person is not enough.

I didn't mind the many nights that I spent alone because he had to travel to race, or when he had consecutive days of simulator and came home tired at night.

When we started dating I knew that these were things that I would have to learn to deal with because that is his job.

But sometimes I feel that Redbull comes before me on occasions that are important to me like last night's stupid party as Max called it.

It was a stupid dinner but it wasn't the dinner itself that I was excited about it was to introduce him to my friends as my boyfriend and not as Max Verstappen the world champion which is how they knew him.

The hours passed and Sunday morning began, the city of Momyr Carlo was cloudy and raining, and gosh how I hated days like that.

I got up and forced myself to go to our room since all my things were there, when I entered he was sleeping and the covers were all messed up and this was a sign that he was not sleeping well, Max was a restless sleeper when he forced himself to sleep.

After doing my morning routine I got dressed in a sweatshirt set, thick socks and my slippers and after fixing the covers on him because it was so cold I went downstairs to do something for breakfast.

Waffles were my favorite thing to eat when I was sad so that's what I did, prepared them and just as I was about to start eating the doorbell rang and I was surprised since I wasn't expecting anyone but when I opened the door I saw Victoria and Luka.

"Oh hi, I didn't know you guys were coming."

"That’s strange because I'm sure you said you would be with Luka today."

"Geez I'm sorry that completely slipped my mind."

"Are you busy or..."

"I'm not, I just made waffles so if you want to come in."

"I can't stay but thank you." She smiles and puts Luka down who hugs me and runs to the kitchen. "Is everything alright? Where's Max?"

"Everything's fine and he's still sleeping."

"Ok, I'm going to go but if you need something you call me ok?"

"I will." She smiles and hugs me then leaves.

"Auntie y/n, I can't reach the waffles." He says from the kitchen and I walk over to her. "Where's Uncle Max?"

"He's still sleeping."

"Can we wake him up?"

"He's very tired so let him sleep a little longer and then wake him up, shall we?" He nods her head in agreement. "What do you think about lots of strawberries and a lot of whipped cream on top of these waffles?"

"Yeah."

After we finished eating I went to wash the things I got dirty and Luka went to play in the living room with his toys but it was very quiet so I went to see what he was doing and when I saw he wasn't in the living room I knew exactly where he was.

When I opened the bedroom door I saw him lying on top of Max sleeping with him who was hugging him, I smiled at the scene and left them sleeping.

Scenes like this made me think about our babies, Luka loos exactly like Max so sometimes this got me wonder.

I think I was alone for half an hour until I heard footsteps on the stairs, I knew it was him because the footsteps were too heavy to be Luka.

"Good morning." He says in a husky voice.

"Good morning." I reply simply without looking at him.

"Been up long?"

"I didn't get much sleep last night so yes." He comes over and sits down next to me.

"Can we talk?" I take a deep breath and agree. "I'm sorry about last night, I was an idiot and being tired was no justification for letting you go alone to the party I had promised I would go with you."

"It's not just about that stupid party Max, it's about the fact that I feel like I'm the only person in this relationship, I'm tired of feeling like I'm not a priority to you and I'm tired of not feeling loved."

"But you are, you are my priority and you are loved." He holds my face making me look at him and I feel his thumb wipe away a tear that had run down. "I love you so much and I'm sorry for making you feel that way, you are the most important person in the world to me and I promise that if you give me a chance I will show you how much I love you."

"I don't know Max."

"Please, I want to show you how much I love you, I want to marry you and I want to have a family if you want too or we can adopt a more cat’s or even a bird. I want to be your husband and the father of your children and I want to love you forever even if forever seems like a short time to love you.” By this time I was crying. "I’m only asking that you give me one more chance.”

"Do you promise that you won't talk to me like that anymore?”

"I promise, and if I do you can punch me in the face." That made me laugh between tears. "I love you and always will."

"I love you too Max." He held my face with both hands and kissed me, "And I also want to marry you and be the mother of your children."

"That's great because I really want to have children someday." I laughed and he kissed me again but we were interrupted by a certain person.

"Ew." He says making us laugh.

"I see you're awake mister." I said to her who ran to us and jumped on Max’s lap.

"I missed you." He says hugging him.

This was the reason I had told Victoria that I would take care of her this Sunday, it had been a while since they had seen each other and I knew they missed each other a lot.

"I was missing you too."

"Auntie y/n are you sad? Why are you crying?" He asks worriedly.

"I was sad with your Uncle Max but it's okay now." At that she starts to cry and gets off his lap coming to mine. "Why are you crying baby?"

"Because he fought with you but I love him and I don't want to stop loving him.” He says crying and Max laughs and I hug him.

"You don't have to stop loving him, we are not fighting anymore."

"You're not?" He asks looking at me and then at Max.

"Your auntie and I are fine okay? No need to cry."

"Shall we get some ice cream then?" He asks making us laugh immediately with his change of mood.

"All right mister, let's get your shoes on while your Uncle Max and I go put on some clothes to go out."

In the end we stick together.

Tag list: @thesparklylover @sunnytkm23 @dudenhaaa27 @cars-on-the-moon @luvrrish @luciaexcorvus @notacluelessblonde00 @lovelylunas-world @laneyspaulding19 @sillymakerbanana @omgsuperstarg @kimi240302 @iwouldkillformarvel @coldheartedmar

363 notes · View notes

guess-my-next-obsession · 1 year

Text

8 Days of Christmas — Christmas Always Makes Me Cry

pairing: javier peña x f!reader

rating: E (18+ ONLY, angst, javi being homesick, talks of crime, violence, other shit that comes w/ being a dea agent, alcohol consumption, strangers in a bar trope, blowjob, filthy!javi, cunnilingus, ass eating, dirty talk, soft!ending)

word count: 2.5k

8 Days of Christmas Masterlist

It was Christmastime in Bogota, Javi finding himself far away from the comfort and familiarity of Laredo for the third consecutive year—though at this point, Bogota had become more familiar to him than his hometown.

It was summer in Colombia, the heat making him feel all the more distant from the holiday as he washed off the sweat and grime built up from a hard day chasing down sicarios they never could seem to catch. In a way, he felt appreciative for the sweltering air outside—it gave him the opportunity to pretend as though Christmas didn’t exist, and therefore he didn’t have to feel guilty about missing yet another holiday with his father.

But he did miss him. No matter how hard he tried to push the longing out of his head, he missed his dad.

Every year, Chucho and Javi would be sent off by his tias and tios to collect at least five different Christmas trees, the two men helped by a couple generous cousins. They’d drive over to the town’s farm and pack the trees in the back of their trucks before delivering them to each of the Peña households, their payment typically being tamales and, if they got lucky and picked a particularly good tree out, a cerveza.

His family celebrated Christmas on Christmas Eve, as most other Mexicanos did in this part of the country at least. Javi never really did know the reason why—it’s just what they did.

Chucho and Javi rarely spent a Christmas at their own home, the two-story ranch house full of too many memories of Christmases past when his mother was still around to make the holiday feel right. Since her passing, it just felt easier to leave and head over to one of Chucho’s sister’s houses, the crowded, loud, and busy nature of the home providing the perfect distraction for their grief.

But now Javi was left to do his grieving alone, this job of his becoming less of a career and more like a lifestyle with each passing day.

Though he truly didn’t regret going into this line of work—helping people had always been his strong suit—it would be a lie to say that there were days, weeks, months even that he found himself buried beneath the violence and death he witnessed while trying to put these bad guys away. The old Javi, the one that his father and tias knew, was hard to find through the layers of thick skin and numbness he needed to build up in order to survive.

Even if he made it back home for the holidays, he wasn’t sure his family would even recognize him anymore, which hurt him in a way he wouldn’t dare to acknowledge. Not right now, at least.

Needing to blow off some steam, Javi chose to head out to one of the bars catered to tourists and Americans who couldn’t speak a lick of Spanish, hoping to find someone so far removed from everything here in Colombia that suffocated him to take home for the night. While he thoroughly enjoyed his usual exploits here—DEA secretaries and informants, typically—they were all too close to everything he was trying to forget.

“Whiskey,” he ordered once he walked up to the bar, his head turning to the side to scan the room for anything that caught his eye, coming up short in this unusually packed room full of mostly elderly people escaping the northern cold.

When the glass of amber liquor was set in front of him, he paid and tipped the bartender before picking his glass up, taking a full-mouthed swig in hopes of numbing the constant stream of anxious thoughts running through his mind.

One drink turned to four as the hours passed by, the nagging voice inside finally hushed as he continued to watch everyone else have a good time, but no amount of liquor could cure the loneliness he felt deep inside. In fact, he was pretty sure nothing in the world could cure it. He was bound to feel this way forever.

“I’m serious! We went out for a drive and I swear to god I saw a car shot up with bullet holes,” one of the clearly well-off grandmothers beside him recounted to her group, earning a scoff of disbelief from the man beside her.

Javier had never wanted ear plugs more in his life as he sat listening to these out of touch and over-privileged Americans detail how much fun they were having here “exploring the culture”. If only they had any fucking clue that real people lived in this country and had to deal with this shit on a daily basis, maybe that would have removed the smile on their faces, but he doubted it.

“That gonna be it, sir?” the bartender asked, bringing Javi’s eyes forward. Javi held his finger up to gesture for one more drink, hoping that by some act of fate, the woman he’d been hoping for would walk in and help take some of this weight off his shoulders.

With the door opening, Javi turned to look over at the new patron and found his lips parting in surprise. Perhaps the universe was listening after all.

He watched as you walked in, your face scrunching up at the amount of people packed into the bar, a sigh leaving your lips as you weaved your way to the empty spot beside him at the bar. Between your natural beauty and the clear scowl on your face, Javi felt sure that he’d stumbled upon the only other Scrooge in Bogota.

Finding his courage, he managed to clear his throat and gesture to his glass.

“Can I get you one?” he asked, watching you as your eyes flickered to his as though you weren’t sure that he was talking to you.

“Me?” you questioned with a quirked brow, earning a chuckle and a nod. The bartender turned his eyes from Javi to you, awaiting yo ur order. “Uh, yeah. Gin and tonic.”

“I, uh, I’ve never seen this place so packed before,” Javi spoke, the liquor in his system forcing his voice into a huskier tone than usual.

“Yeah, it’s usually dead,” you replied, taking a look around the room before sneaking a glance at him, impressed by his handsome profile as he took a sip of his whiskey. “Must be the tourists escaping the cold.”

“That what you are?” he asked, setting his glass down and looking back to you. You felt your cheeks heat as his eyes bounced across your features with an intense admiration.

“Uh, no, I teach english lit at the University of Bogota,” you informed with a small smile. Javi nodded as though he was proud of you, widening his smile just a bit.

“Impressive.”

“What about you? You here for the season or do you live here?” You noticed the way he tensed a bit at the question and hoped you hadn’t crossed a boundary. Picking up your drink, you decided to take a few needed sips to loosen you up a bit, your nerves clearly still in control.

“I, uh, live here. For now, at least.”

“Oh yeah? Where to next?” you pressed, watching as he weighed his head to the side and shrugged.

“Hopefully back home,” he replied, cracking a somehow sad smile that brought a frown to your face.

“Why hopefully?”

Because I don’t know if I’m gonna make it out of here alive, he wanted to reply.

“It’s…a long story that i’m not allowed to tell you even if i wanted to.” He flashed you a winning smile before holding his hand out. “I just realized I haven’t caught your name.”

You smiled as you slipped your hand into his and told him your name, pleased by the warmth of his palm and how his fingers encompassed your entire hand.

“Javi,” he gave you his name and you whispered it back to him, watching as he nodded in confirmation. “Sounds better when you say it.”

You blushed and rolled your eyes playfully y his compliment. “Well, Javi, what brings you to a bar on Christmas eve? Sú mujer le molesta?” [Your wife bothering you?]

He chuckled. “¿Ves un anillo en mi dedo?” [Do you see a ring on my finger?]

“Figured you took it off,” you shrugged, the liquor in your system turning you playful.

“No, no wife at home nagging at me,” he finally answered your question, bringing his glass to his lips. “What about you? Escaping somebody?”

“Escaping everybody,” you replied with a groan. “Tonight was our work party, and I walked in, took a look around, and walked right back out. Figured getting drunk in a room full of strangers was better than a room full of coworkers.”

“Yeah,” he nodded, eyes flickering to your lips. “Sometimes it’s easier to be with a stranger. You can be whoever you wanna be.”

“And who would you like me to be for you, Javi?” you purred, reaching your hand over to trail a finger up his forearm. Javi’s breath hitched but he quickly recovered, placing his hand on top of yours and intertwining your fingers.

“Just yourself,” he replied, hardly audible over the loud chatter and ambience of the bar.

“Ah, fuck,” Javi had one hand on the back of your head, the other gripping the sink behind him as you took him deep in your mouth. Sinful slurps and glucks filled the single stall restroom at the bar, your eyes wide with tears falling down your cheeks as you bobbed up and down on his cock like you were determined to win a trophy. “So fucking pretty like this, cariño. Gonna make me cum quick.”

You lived for his praise, his husky rasp like music to your ears as you reached to cradle his balls, determined to get him across the finish line in record time. Javi’s neck strained as he tossed his head back, gulping down the strangled moans both of you wished he could let spill freely.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” he warned looking down at you with a crease between his brows, s look of awe on his handsome face as he watched you stroke him in time with your slurps and sucks. “Fuck, fuck, fuuu-uck!”

Javi’s coco pulsed as you took him deep into your throat, his lips forming an ‘o’ as he watched you swallow his entire load with ease.

“Jesus fucking Christ, come here,” Javi pulled you onto your feet and kissed you without care of the saliva and cum that remained on the corners of your mouth, his neediness driving you wild. You tossed your arms around his neck and kissed him back with just as much fervor, Javi’s hands reaching for the hem of your dress and lifting it up over your ass. “Bend over. Wanna eat your pussy.”

“Fuck,” you whined and did as he requested, bending over the sink while he positioned himself on his knees behind you. You looked into the mirror, staring at your fucked out state as Javi tugged your panties down your thighs and spread your cheeks to get a good look at your glistening heat.

“So fucking pretty,” he praised before leaning in and licking a broad stripe from your clit to your puckered hole, pulling a gasp from your lips. “And you taste fucking good.”

“Shit, Javi,” you breathed out and reached your hand back to hold his head against you. Javi growled and began his work, lapping at your clit until it swelled before running his tongue all the way up to your ass and back down again. Your thighs shook as you kept yourself upright, your eyes unable to watch yourself anymore as you could hardly keep them open, his tongue pressing into your cunt wiping all coherent thought away. “So good…so fucking good, Javi.”

Javi wrapped his lips around your throbbing clit and started to suck, obscene sounds filling the room again as he spit on your cunt just to slurp it all back into his mouth and do it again.

“Your pussy tastes so good, I could eat you for hours, cariño,” he praised before pressing his tongue to your tighter hole while he circled your clit with two fingers, threatening to push you over the edge. “You gonna cum, baby? Tell me so I can lick it all up. Wanna taste everything you have to give me.”

“Fuck, Javi!” you whined, guiding his head lower to your cunt again as your high began to dawn, Javi’s lips replacing his fingers as he started to suck on your clit again, the pulsing sensation finally pushing you over the edge. “Javi, I’m coming! Fuck!”

“Yes,” he growled against you, sliding his tongue to your entrance to drink you down while you convulsed against the sink counter.

Once your walls ceased their fluttering, Javi stood up, tucking his cock back into his jeans before sliding your panties back up and pulling the hem of your dress down. He helped steady you as you turned around, your hands on his face tugging him down for a searing kiss.

“You wanna come back to mine for the night?” he asked breathily against your jaw, palming your ass as he held you close.

You bit your lip and shook your head, feeling him frown against you. “Sober me wouldn’t be proud of me for going home with a stranger on the first night. No matter how handsome or talented he is.”

“Understandable,” he chuckled against you, his lips now on your neck leaving tiny kisses all over. “I’d like to you see you again, though. Got any Christmas plans?”

“Si, con mi gato,” you replied with a playful grin. “You could come and join us, if you want. I bought a ham and some sides for dinner. Wouldn’t mind sharing it with a handsome stranger.”

“Maybe then you wouldn’t see me as a stranger anymore,” he suggested, pulling back to look down at you. “I’d like that. Might have to take an allergy pill but, for you, it’s worth it.”

“I’ll tell my cat to leave you alone,” you chuckled, stroking over his mustache. “I’m glad I came out tonight. You really made my holiday better, Javi.”

“I can’t tell you just how much I agree,” he smiled and kissed you again. “C’mon, stranger. There’s probably a line of old people outside waiting to scold us for taking so long.”

“Gotta fix this first,” you gestured at your face, your mascara running and lipstick smudged over your chin. Javi shrugged as he took a good look at your fucked out state.

“I think it’s a good look.”

taglist: @infesstisssumam @outlawedmando @suttonspuds @joelmillerscoffee @ajeff855 @wildemaven @axshadows @sherala007 @browneyes-issac @tooflef @mariasabana @tae27 @kimm4710 @stxrrylunatic @sara-alonso @paulalikestuff @jbh-castaway @oceandolores @mandomover @chxpsi @auberosier @mashomasho @vanemando15 @wickedmunson @marvel-sw-lover @jediknight122 @harriedandharassed @star-wars-fan-2005 @alwaysdjarin @jalobro @trickstersp8 @mccn-bcys @manuymesut @trinkets01 @tanzthompson @jlmaddinson @golden-library @ayoungpascallover-readings @ziggyrocket @pasckles @mrsparknuts @dodgerandevans @medusaandposeidonshead @pastelnap @mando-amando @notyourlovemonkey @psychesreads @oncasette @laureliciousdefinition @notyourlovemonkey @peachyaeger

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fluff #narcos fanfiction #javier peña angst #javier pena fic #javier peña x you #javier peña fluff #javier pena #javier peña x y/n #javier peña x reader #javier peña smut #javier peña #javier pena x reader #javier pena fanfiction #8 days of christmas

534 notes · View notes

jojomheffer · 2 months

Text

The whale's tail.

A dark one shot. Levi Ackerman x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of abuse (psychological and physical), starving to death, angst, murder, mentions of rape.

Wrote this while i was at work. Sorry if it looks bad.

He couldn't believe what he saw. Her body dismembered, cut, bruised and abused on the floor. The consequences of living underground.

Levi Ackerman was sure that one day they would die, but he didn't know that she would die before him, much less in such a brutal way. A torture that lasted seven consecutive days, he watched, and he couldn't stop anything.

He listened to his loved one's screams attentively because his own blood did not allow him to see the one he loved suffer without doing anything, but he didn't do anything. He didn't do it because he was chained, being psychologically tortured. Being forced to see and hear your screams, your body being sexually abused, your face disfigured after so many punches.

When she was dismembered alive, he writhed, screamed along, begged for it not to happen, but your screams of pain were louder.

He was left behind in that cell, next to her corpse. Her lifeless eyes remained open. He could only look at her decapitated head.

Day after day handcuffed in that cell, without food, water and the horrible, rotten smell exuding from her body, getting worse after each small explosion of natural gas inside her, made him remember when he spent that week trapped next to his mother's corpse, the suffering only got worse.

He remembered things his beloved once told him. How much she loved the mystical image of that animal that existed outside those walls, the whale.

The spiritual and psychological meanings of this animal fascinated you, and you spent hours talking about it. Even though he didn't show interest, he listened carefully to her words.

║▌│█║▌│ █║▌│█│║▌║║▌│█║▌│ █║▌│█│║▌║║▌│█║▌│ █

"Why do you like these animals so much, huh? You don't even know if they exist or not." That's what he said the first time you told him about it, the response he received was like fire igniting in his coal heart.

"Whether they exist or not, I don't care. Life down here is extremely difficult. We have to have something to forget the difficulties from time to time, right? You're only grumpy like that because you didn't understand that yet." And it was with these words you said that made him realize that he was completely and deeply in love with you because you were his escape from his world.

☆°•♡°•☆°•♡

"So, as I was saying, whales also mean rebirth, given the fact that it is also a supporter of the world!" You said happily, explaining again about your vast knowledge about whales. "Oh, and they symbolize the deep human unconscious, where no light can reach. And it also symbolizes absolute sadness, where there is no joy."

"Pretty deep. Where did you read that?" Levi asked taking a sip of his tea, listening to you talk. "How about you drink some of your tea now? It's been twenty minutes since you started talking, it's already cold enough."

"No, but listen!..." And with that, you started talking again.

║▌│█║▌│ █║▌│█│║▌║║▌│█║▌│ █║▌│█│║▌║║▌│█║▌│ █

Now, he finally understood how he liked to hear your voice saying nonsense, things he admired about you. The way you talked about those animals was what he liked to hear most, it was what kept him sane every day.

He couldn't cry or scream anymore, and it had been two days since the last time he said anything. His voice was hoarse, weak, almost like a whisper.

"You, my angel, my saint, my last shred of sanity... I miss your voice. It's been four days since you said anything, or at least screamed." He began to utter the most profound words he had ever said in his entire life. He was close to death, that was no doubt.

"I learned from you that whales develop communication at the bottom of the sea, that they are a symbol of absolute sadness, of collectiveness, lasting love..." He spat out what seemed to be the last bit of water in his body. His eyes fought to stay open and confess his love.

"I loved hearing your voice saying nonsense, your childish games, your light snores when you slept in my office... You were like the deep love of a whale for me. Going to the bottom of the sea and coming back. Following me to the poles of the planet together with our brood... I wish I had enjoyed it more. I think maybe now I can... In a new life, like one of those affectionate whales you told me about. Maybe this way, we will have peace in our lives. .." And with that, he drifted off to his eternal slumber...

Both of your bodies laid in that cell. Your body parts scattered all around the floor with your dried blood. And his skinny, malnourished tired body.

What a romantic view.

#aot angst #yandere levi #levi x reader smut #levi angst #levi x reader #levi aot #levi attack on titan #levi ackerman #levi ackerman x reader #aot x reader #aot #snk levi #snk fanart #snk x reader #snk

41 notes · View notes

bisexualhomelander · 26 days

Note

Sunflower - Butchlander or Billy

@pochiperpe90. This is your ask. Tumblr deleted it before I had a chance to reply. I am so sorry lmao So I just re-sent it to myself on anon.

sunflower; adoration

"How about, maybe, you stay still and let me do this, hn?"

The petulant huff Billy gets in response earns Homelander another drag of Billy's beard against his inner thigh. At this point (three consecutive orgasms Billy has sucked out of him in), the supe does little more than keen in discomfort.

"Chrissakes, you're bulletproof."

One look at the clock on the nightstand (gold, fuck off) confirms he's spent the better part of an hour between Homelander's legs. His jaw started aching twenty minutes ago, but Billy Butcher does not half-ass anything.

Homelander tiredly beckons him closer. He makes sure to drag his beard over a nipple on his way there just to feel the supe's entire body jerk.

"How come they made you have a weakness like this, luv?"

Homelander ignores him in favour of touching his face. "I like your beard."

Billy turns over. He sighs at the sight of Homelander's Americana history museum mirror cabinet nightmare room with no doors to speak of (and Ashley Barrett coming in every single day at 9AM sharp - weekends, too).

He does not sigh at Homelander nuzzling into him, bringing their bodies together because one minute without direct contact is apparently unbearable. "I'm happy," Homelander mutters into his chest.

Billy wraps an arm around him, starts trailing fingers up and down Homelander's bare shoulder, and looks up at the ceiling to see that reflected like some Renaissance fresco. At least Billy's cock is bigger than those of the naked blokes Michelangelo painted.

There are many things Homelander does not say, but Billy understands: 'I'm happy you're here (in this room that everyone is scared of) with me (who everyone is scared of).'

Billy disentangles himself from arms that falsely feel too weak to hold onto him and ignores the little noise of dismay as Homelander is forced to slide back under the blanket for warmth his inhuman body doesn't need. He stumbles into the bathroom because soon, the morning sun would make him come to terms with things again, and he'd at least like to have finished showering and drinking sweetened coffee from the vending machine in the Vought Tower lobby by then.

The thing about obsession is that you start putting up with discomfort (shabby New York apartments on the hunt and gilded portraits of presidents past) to get what you want (his death, his death, and those little keens).

#ask game #my writing #thank you for the ask!!#billy butcher #homelander #butchlander #bloody bouquets

44 notes · View notes

purplecoffee13 · 5 months

Text

‘Heaven’s On Fire’ - thin lines pt. 1*

“I want it all, give me what you got. It’s hunger in your eyes. I’m getting closer, baby hear me breathe” ~ Heaven’s On Fire by KISS

Summary: “You meet the infamous rockstar Harry Styles after your opera performance. He is an arrogant and self-centered prick, but you can't help but feel incredibly attracted to him.”

Wc: 4.6k

Tropes: rockstar!Harry X opera singer!MC

Warnings: oral (fem!receiving), Harry being a cocky asshole, degradation, dirty talk, mention of exhibitionism, dom & sub, slight age gap (19 & 23)

A/N: Hey! Welcome to this new series of mine! This will include a little bit of darker Harry, so don’t expect a lot of lovey dovey things here. Isn’t proof read so sorry for mistakes. Also be sure to check every chapter’s warnings before u go on with reading

************************************************

The Opera.

Of all places, that's where Harry's team had decided to send him to give him some 'good press'. It was absolutely ridiculous. He wasn't even allowed to bring a date. They knew he'd run off with them.

In a black suit, Harry stood outside in the common room of the theatre, waiting for the dreadful announcement that the two hours of high notes and absurd costumes could commence. He ran his hands through his now long hair, which he had spent a year growing out. It was freshly washed, and parts of his curls were still damp.

A guiding hand was put on Harry's back by Rob, his manager, and he was led to their seats. Harry was still being a grump to his manager, but Rob was used to it by now.

Harry had tarnished his image enough over the past two years, and he was in dire need of a clean slate. The media would only be so nice before sales started to decline.

It was a difficult job, what Rob had been put up to. While Harry's band mates knew how to keep their antics hidden from the public eye, Harry reveled in being in it. Mikey, his drummer and lifelong friend, had once called him a proper psychopath after two consecutive nights in a sex club somewhere deep in Hollywood.

There was no denying it, Harry had completely changed from the moment he came into the public eye. He wasn't the sweetest kid, but he'd always been pretty decent. But the flash of the cameras, the whiskeys and the lines of coke were enough to change a man. For the better, he thought. The people around him had a different opinion about it, but he didn't care. As long as he delivered on stage, no one batted an eye at him.

And he did deliver, both on stage and off of it. More than half of the bands' songs were written by Harry, whose impeccable songwriting proved itself time and time again.

But over the last few months, there had been one too many brawls at clubs, where paparazzi would catch a coked out Harry trying to beat up some local guy. It was also becoming difficult for the media to keep track on the amount of women he was fucking, and above all, his outspoken, atheist outlook on live didn't help much either.

So, Rob had sent Harry to a few socially acceptable events, where he'd have to make small talk and be nice, and look like he was actually dressed for the occasion.

Harry hated it, and he despised Rob for thinking going the opera would be a good idea. Nevertheless, he sat down, slightly slouched, and tried not to sigh too hard as he waited for the lights to dim.

It'd be a good way to get some sleep; he'd need it.

Harry had already closed his eyes for a few minutes when all of a sudden an angelic voice hit his ear drums, your voice. His eyes softly fluttered open, and he was met with the sight of an actual angel. Well, at least he thought.

On stage, you singing with such adoration and love in her voice that Harry could feel it, and despite not knowing what the play could've possibly been about as he had not informed himself, he knew your character was supposed to be in love.

From that second on, Harry's eyes were wide open. He'd rest them whenever you were not there, and was wide awake as soon as you, his little nightingale, would bless the room with your presence and your voice again. As the opera slowly worked its way to its climax, Harry leaned over to Rob.

"I need you to get me backstage."

"Why?" Rob turned to his client, a frown on his face.

"She has a beautiful voice. I want to tell her in person." He turned to his manager, who was eyeing him skeptically. Of course he thought Harry was getting in there for a quick fuck, and while those were exactly his intentions, he didn't need Rob to know. "What? You were the one who wanted me to have respectable acquittances."

"Right... you're right. I'll be back in a minute." He said before getting up and tasking care of Harry's commands.

Harry couldn't do anything else for the rest of the play other than think about his little nightingale in all the ways he wanted to have you.

(((|)))

Opening night was the most nerve racking thing you had ever experienced, but despite your fears, the opera had played out wonderfully. The overwhelming amount of applause at the end made you tear up, and the first few minutes back in your changing room consisted of nothing but staring out into the distance, thinking about how lucky you were to have ended up where you had.

You had always wanted to sing, ever since you was a little girl. You had always had the gift, but your parents didn't really believe in the unstable career that came with singing as a profession. That was, until you were accepted for the role of Liesl von Trapp in a sound of music musical held in the region's biggest theatre and ended up being scouted by your current manager, Reece.

This role was your ticket into the business, he'd said. After this, you would be able to work your way to what you truly wanted to do. Write songs. It was all you've ever wanted to do, but your operatic voice was the gateway into record deals.

'You need to be heard first, then you can write your story'. That's what Reece had told you, and you trusted him. Your succes was money straight into his pockets, so he would do what was best for you and your career, at least you assumed.

Your rattling mind was interrupted by a knock on your door. You watched through the mirror as the door opened, and Reece popped in.

"Good job, Y/N, truly." He said as he walked over to you. You turned around to get up and gave him a hug, your stomach tingling at the smell of his perfume. Reece always smelled very good.

You had slowly started to develop a slight crush on your manager. At first, you weren't attracted to him at all. In fact, you knew he had a girlfriend of a couple years so the thought never even entered your mind.

But then, one night, after a business dinner, Reece offered to get a drink at the local bar. You agreed and together you took off the a dive bar near the restaurant. It was a very fun night and you both got quite tipsy, and barriers had slowly faded. His hand lingered on yours very long, as did his gaze. And he knew just what to say to make you blush, then outwardly admitted he liked to get you flustered.

Since that night, Reece has been a confusing push and pull game for you. Some days he is extra touchy, others he acts like you're not even close to being friends. He doesn't like it when you talk to other guys, he'll act very distant and walk around with his jaw clenched, but at the important events he always brings his girlfriend. It's excruciating, but the second he touches you, all the bad parts of him fade into the nothingness.

"There is someone who wanted to compliment you in person." He says with a smirk on his face, and you tilt your head at the twinkle in his eyes.

You had to try your hardest not to let your mouth fall open as none other than Harry Styles walked through the door. His tall frame, dressed in a black suit, strolled into the room with his hands on his back. His long hair fell over his shoulders and you didn't think you'd ever seen a prettier man in your life.

"Harry, this is Y/N Y/L/N. And Y/N, this is Harry Styles." Reece introduced you two as you walked towards Harry to shake his hand.

"I know— I mean, nice to meet you." You corrected yourself quickly in hopes of not seeming like too much of a fan girl. Harry and his band had made some awesome songs and you had always been fascinated with his songwriting. You felt like you were in a dream.

"Nice to meet you too." His low voice made your cheeks heat up, and he caught it. The corners of his mouth tugged up, and then he turned to Reece. "My manager wanted to talk to you. He's outside."

Reece nodded, but stayed put. "I'll contact him."

Harry's nice gaze turned a bit cold. Could that guy not take a hint? Or did he not want to? Nevertheless, Harry didn't like not getting his way. Then, as if the gods had decided to favor him, Reece's phone rang. He silently excused himself as he slowly walked towards the door.

"Hi baby... yes, I'm in Y/N's dressing room right now— no I'll be right down there." He said, looking at you the whole time. You tried to ignore the pang in your chest at the sound of him talking to his girlfriend, who he of course belonged to. "Come on, babe, you know— okay, okay, fine."

He hung up the phone and put it in his pocket, a sigh leaving his mouth. "I'll be back shortly."

Then, Reece was gone. Open field, Harry thought.

He didn't miss the way you looked at Reece, but he didn't give two shits about that. Harry could make you forget about him in fifteen minutes, if you'd let him.

You were standing in front of him, not very sure of what to do or say, so Harry decided to be the one to talk first.

"You did a really great job on that stage." He complimented you, and you looked down at the floor, a sweet smile on your face while you fiddled with your hands.

"Thank you." You replied, forcing yourself to meet his eyes as you didn't want to be rude. "I... uhm, I really like your music. Your songwriting is amazing."

"Yeah?" Harry smirked, taking the smallest step towards you, and your eyes widened like a deer in headlights. You were very nervous for a multitude of reasons, and his raspy voice didn't make it any less scary to talk to him.

"Yes, I can always feel your lyrics, even if it isn't a necessarily familiar experience for me. I don't know how you do it." You beamed as you turned around and walked towards your vanity desk, grabbing the pitcher on it and pouring some water into an empty glass. "Would you like some water?"

When you turned around with the glass in your hand, Harry was standing in front of you, leaned against the back of the couch behind him. You extended your hand out, and he took the glass from you.

"Thank you." He said, and you nodded.

"Was it not too boring? The opera, I mean." You couldn't help but ask. You'd always felt like they were a bit of a yawn, but being on stage was so thrilling that it wasn't half as boring as it might've been for the audience. Harry raised his eyebrows.

"With you in it? Absolutely not." He shook his head before taking a sip from the water, and you couldn't contain the smile that crept onto your face. Harry thought it was adorable, how much his words affected you, the rose colored cheeks that came with it. Your doe eyes that looked up at him with a desperation to please, to be liked. It was innocent, and that was dangerous, for the both of you.

Harry just wanted to take you right then and there and show you all the ways you could please him, then reward you with a string of orgasms for yourself. But he had a feeling that was a bit of a foreign concept to you, something that only made him want you more.

You were leaning against your vanity desk with your hands leaning on the table, when Harry got up and stalked towards you. Just the way he walked was so intimidating and a bit scary; you felt like you had to run. Your heart began to beat faster with every step he took towards you until finally he stood in front of you, way closer than necessary. He leaned forward and you felt your breath hitch in your throat, the smell of his aftershave making you a bit dizzy. A thud on the desk made you jump ever so slightly and upon looking down you saw the glass back on the table.

When your gaze met Harry's again, he had stepped back, knowing exactly what he needed to now. It was evident in his face; he knew you were attracted to him.

You tried to steady your breathing, gripping the desk until your knuckles turned white. He caught you off guard, and you were feeling so many things at once, but somehow it was overruled by the ache between your legs.

"Are you a virgin?" He asked, and at that very moment, you felt like pleading the earth to suck you under.

"What?" You asked, offended by the question. Not because it was necessarily insulting, but she didn't like to think she had the word 'virgin' written on her face. It couldn't have been that obvious, could it?

"I'll take that as a yes." He tilted his head. "So you're not fucking your manager?"

What the fuck?

You were flabbergasted by the rudeness of Harry. You knew he wasn't exactly the sweetest guy around — you didn't miss the news articles about him — but you thought he'd at least be decent in conversation.

"What?! N-no!" Your eyes were wide and you didn't know what to say. If Harry would tell people that you were sleeping with your manager — which you weren't —, Reece would never look at you again. He'd drop you and then your career would be destroyed.

"How old are you?" He went on, not paying attention to the quiver in your voice and the stressed out look on your face.

"Harry, why would you—"

"I asked you a question." He stepped in front of you, towering over you now. The low growl was extremely stern and the sheer sound of his voice made your stomach turn. Whether that was in a good way or bad way, you didn't really know.

"Sorry." You looked up at him, too scared to take your eyes off of him and accidentally pissing him off again. "I’m nineteen.”

Harry’s cock strained in his pants at the way you immediately obeyed him. Your age did explain your virginity though; he thought you were older. Four years was not a very big age difference, but your sexual knowledge did differ a lot. But that didn’t matter, he’d teach you.

“Good girl.” Harry whispered as he took your hand and stepped backward until he could sit on the back rest of the couch again. You slowly walked with him, it only seeming fit if he was holding your hand. He wanted you to follow, and you wanted to follow him. He was unprofessional, and rude, but you still wanted to do everything he said.

“How is it that a pretty girl like you has never been touched before, huh?” He asked, the sweet tone of his voice distracting from the vulgar question that had your eyes nearly pop out of your sockets. When you didn’t answer him, he decided to make up some theories himself. “Are you waiting for your knight in shining armor, hmm? Or are you waiting for your manager to dump his girlfriend and decide to fuck you instead?”

That hit you like a slap in the face. You knew you wouldn’t be able to deny it with a straight face, so you turned around. But upon trying to get away from him, he pulled you back by your wrist until you were standing between his legs, your back against him. He snakes his left arm around your waist to pull you into him, and your eyes widened when you felt something you knew you shouldn’t be feeling.

You did not want to get in trouble, and your heart was racing at the awareness that the door was not locked, but you panties were ruined anyway. If confused you, why the knowledge of this being bad, forbidden or even risky, was making you all the more hot for it.

“It’s okay baby, your secret’s safe with me.” He purred, mouth on your ear after stroking your hair away from it. You spotted the sight of you two in the mirror, and you had to restrain yourself from letting out a whimper.

Harry was good at body language, and thus he knew you wanted him to touch you, even if you were too afraid to admit it yourself. There wasn’t an explicit yes yet, but there wasn’t talks of a ‘no’ either so Harry would carry on.

“You know, baby, I can teach you a thing or two.” He spoke up again, his fingertips stroking over your thigh as he talked to you. You swallowed, not being able to think straight with his breath in your neck and his hands on you like this. “Have you all prepared for when your little manager makes up his mind.”

That piqued your interest. You were quite insecure about the whole situation with Reece, especially because he was so much older and more experienced. You had never even seen a cock in real life, and while you had watched and read a thing or two, you didn’t have any actual sexual experiences — vibrator excluded.

You had always been quite the introvert, and no one ever sparked the desire in you to have sex. You were also the one to run away when things got too real or too intimate, and the unattainable part when it came to Reece is what made your attraction turn into a full blown crush. You could want him from a distance.

But what if the day indeed came, and you were unprepared? Then what? You didn’t want to disappoint Reece. You wanted it to be worth it for him, if he’d ever leave his girlfriend.

“What do you say, baby? Will you let me show you?” He asked, and then started kissing your neck. Involuntarily, your eyes started to roll back, and you felt yourself starting to relax in his hands, but that was only for a second before you came back to your senses.

“Harry… we— I don’t want to be unprofessional.” You squeaked out, trying to pull his arm off your waist, but you weren’t nearly strong enough.

“Weak excuse.” Harry scoffed, his fingers nearing the fabric of your black mini dress, now dangerously close to your soaked underwear. You shut your eyes tightly, trying to think of a better reason not to do this, but your mind wasn’t helping you at all.

“The door is unlocked.” You sounded out of breath, and it made Harry grin. You were trying so hard to resist, it would be easier and more enjoyable if you just gave in.

“That’s true.” Harry agreed, and you sighed, not sure whether it was out of relief or disappointment. “But you like that, don’t you? The idea that you could get caught any time.”

Harry’s fingers were grazing your panties, and he chuckled at the feeling of drenched fabric against his hand. He let you out of his grip and moved you until you were standing straight. He waited for a few seconds, but you weren’t moving. You were waiting, for him. The smirk on his face reached from ear to ear as he reveled in how right he was about you. He hiked up your dress a bit and pulled down your panties, letting them fall to your feet.

In a swift move, he pulled you back against him again, your bare ass now pressed against his jeans. He groaned at the sight of it, but focused back you. Then, he caught it, the way you were staring at you and him through the mirror. He met your eyes through the glass, and feeling like you’d been caught, you quickly looked away. In a matter of seconds, Harry’s hand was on your chin, directing your head back to the tall reflective glass.

“No, no. Watch yourself.” He ordered, before grazing his fingers over your slit. You gasped at the contact, and your head tilted back ever so slightly. Harry took it as a sign of full compliance; he knew better than to wait on a verbal answer by now. He knew you wouldn’t admit it, because it would be easier to pretend like it didn’t happen afterwards.

From that moment, Harry begin to suck on your neck as he rubbed circles on your clit, and held you in place with his free hand.

“You never answered my question, love.” He said lowly. “Tell me, do you like the idea of getting caught?”

“Yes.” You whispered, the confession feeling to scandalous to say it in anything other than a hushed tone.

“That’s what I thought.” Harry said proudly, fingers nearing your entrance. You whimpered in slight pain when two of his fingers slid inside you at the same time. It was easy, because of how wet you were, but it besides your vibrator there had never really been anything in there before, and it had been a while since your vibrator.

“God, you’re fucking tight.” Harry groaned in delight, mostly to himself. His fingers curled inside of you and your entire body jerked up. He held you into place with his other arm, but the devilish smile on his face wasn’t missed by you. You were still watching his every move through that mirror. “And so reactive.”

“Harry… what if someone walks in?” You tried to argue, and you weren’t even sure why because if it were up to you, his fingers would stay inside of you forever. But you still felt like you were breaking the rules, like you were betraying Reece. Which, you instantly realized, was absolutely ridiculous because he was currently with his girlfriend.

“I think we just established that you wouldn’t care very much about that, and I don’t either.” He rasped, his fingers pumping in and out of you at a lazy pace. “And you’ll do whatever I tell you, won’t you?”

You sighed. “Yes.”

“Exactly.” He planted a few kisses in your neck. “So even if someone would walk in, I wouldn’t stop until I have you cumming all over my fingers.”

You let out a soft moan at the sinful image he created with his words, and he let his free hand travel to your clit as he started fingering you faster and faster.

“Yeah? You like that, baby?” His voice was becoming more strained with every second, because he was trying his hardest to keep himself from cumming inside his pants. Especially when you hummed in agreement.

He didn’t have this problem with other people, but then again he didn’t take this much time with others. You were different, in this sense. Harry knew that he needed to ease you into this, otherwise you’d never agree. And there was something about you, he guessed it was your pure aura, that made him want you more than he had ever wanted a girl before. He needed to fuck you, so he wouldn’t mind taking a detour.

“Can you see it yet, him walking through the door and seeing your little pussy getting wrecked by my fingers?” He knew you were getting dangerously close to your orgasm. “Tell me.”

“Shit— yes!” You cried out, not being able to think straight with that vision clouding your mind.

“But you wouldn’t stop me, would you? You’d let me fuck you with my fingers until I’ve had enough, right?” He asked, but you knew these were all rhetoric questions. Harry knew you were completely at his mercy, and somehow he had found out how much you got off on that too.

“Yeah— ah! I… would.” Your legs had began to shake and you knew your high was just around the corner. Harry wasn’t slowing down, and neither were the gasps and whimpers that left your mouth as he worked his magic on your clit with his other hand.

“You’d even let me fuck you in front of him if I wanted to, wouldn’t you? Fuck you stupid against that mirror while he watches you fall apart for me. You’d get off on it.”

“Harry!” You begged. You just wanted a release at this point, and you were on the brink of it. He rubbed your clit harder, and you began to see stars.

“Go on, you can cum now, knowing you’re nothing more but a desperate slut, just begging to be my personal fuck toy.” He said, as you came all over his fingers with a string of agreeing words leaving your mouth. “There you go, you wanted it so bad, huh? Good fucking girl.”

You panted as Harry’s fingers worked you through your high, and you had let your body lean against him, too tired to hold yourself up. You were extremely out of breath, but barely had time to recover when there was a knock on your door. You stepped forward, away from Harry, and pulled your dress down. Turning around and leaning against the vanity just like you were before Harry decided to give you an orgasm.

In the mean time, Harry had leaned down and grabbed your panties, quickly stuffing them in his pockets.

“C– come in!” Your voice sounded hoarse, but you acted like nothing happened as an unfamiliar head peeked around the door. Harry turned around to see who it was and smiled at the man who had knocked.

“Hey, Rob!” He said, sounding way too smug and casual for your liking.

“Thought I’d find you here.” Rob said, sounding a little bit disappointed with Harry, and you crossed your arms, feeling too naked, still. It felt like this Rob guy could see right through you and Harry’s antics, and you were feeling very exposed at the moment. Harry got up and winked at you before making his way towards the door.

“It was nice to meet you, Y/N. See you soon.” He said, earning a frown from both you and Rob. Harry didn’t look back as he walked out the door, Rob following him as he said his goodbyes too. You awkwardly waved, feeling extremely confused, turned on and fucked out at the same time.

You sighed, exhilaration coursing through your veins. You jumped when Reece’s voice sounded from the other side of the room all of a sudden.

“Hey, you alright?” He asked, suspicious with the look on your face. You faked a smile, and nodded.

“Yeah, just… overwhelmed.” You shrugged. Technically you were telling the truth. You were overwhelmed, just with the orgasm you just had rather than the show of tonight.

“Let’s go to the party, I need to introduce you to some people.” Reece said, sending that there was something with your answer that didn’t make it entirely truthful.

“I’ll meet you out there in a minute.” You smiled innocently, and he nodded before walking out the door. You sighed the moment the door shut, and leaned down to grab your panties, only to realize that they weren’t there.

Bastard!

…..

Masterlist

#harry styles #fanfic #writing #smut #blurb #fanfiction #harry #one direction #one shot #series #opera #singer #rockstar

38 notes · View notes

moodywyrm · 10 months

Note

Let’s talk vi and stamina. You see her running through Zaun after she got out of Stillwater? You think she’s taping out? Ever? Delusional wishful thinking. She’s like one of those dogs that you walk/work/play with for 8 hours and they don’t even break a sweat. She’s looking at you like “what? That’s all you got in you? Come on cupcake. Know you can do better than that.” Even though it’s been hours🤭

crawled all the way back to this one because Vi.

In my mind, Vi is 100% a switch. She loves being taken care of and letting someone else take control (only if she trusts them entirely), but she also loves taking care of her partner. There are days where she slips into this headspace of please and serve. Entire days where all she wants is to make you feel good, for as long and as intense as she can.

Her stamina is insane, having spent most of her life, from her time with Vander to her imprisonment, working on it. Vi will spend literal hours fucking you on her mouth, fingers, her pussy, her strap, and whatever toys she could get. When she's got you on her strap, she's folding you into every position imaginable. From a missionary to a mating press to doggy to you laying on your front to a full nelson, all of it. When she gets in a mood, she's practically insatiable. She turns into a pure pleasure/service dom, the only goal on her mind is to make you cum again and again and again.

You do have to take breaks, obviously, because pretty much no one can pull that many consecutive orgasms out of their body. Vi always teases you about it, saying shit like "Aww, pumpkin, you need a break? But we're just getting started?"

But don't be fooled, Vi is nothing if not considerate and caring. She would never give you more than you could handle, and at the slightest hint that you're no longer enjoying it she's stopping the scene, easing you into aftercare and spending the rest of the night taking care of you. The breaks are there to stop you from needing the full stop, letting you regain some stamina even when she's pretty much fully charged. She'll feed you snacks, help you drink water, massage parts of your body that are getting sore. Vi may be intense, but she'd never overload you.

I am once again thinking about Vi's hips and thighs and just how yummy they are I wanna kiss them and hold them and leave hickies on them so so so so so bad.

#anon #arcane vi #arcane vi smut #arcane vi x reader #arcane vi x reader smut #arcane smut

136 notes · View notes

not-poignant · 3 months

Note

Hi Pia! You said that you need another vacation after this vacation, so I am not sure, how puppy situation, even if it partual custudy, affecting you ( may be you in panic when he is there and then recovering when he is not, and then round and round? ), but really, If you need another vacation, I hope you know we will be here to support you for it!

It's been nearly 4 weeks now since we got Toby so I feel like I can talk about this with a bit of a clear head.

(Talk of like an actual PTSD meltdown beneath the read-more, including self-harm mention - nothing graphic. There's zero obligation for anyone to read this, especially for folks who don't think authors should ever be honest about being people with issues):

So, I've been kind of quiet about aspects of this, but I have like severe treatment-resistant PTSD and C-PTSD, and puppies specifically are one of my triggers (especially if I'm responsible for them). The reason for that is kind of awful, and I don't really want to talk about some of the things I've experienced/been through that led to that, so let's just move onto the next part. You're kind of right anon, there has been panic while he is here lol.

As a result, I had a severe meltdown the first time I tried to adopt a dog many years ago now. Could not last 24 hours, needed weeks/months to recover.

But I've always wanted to share my life with a dog and I've been in a somewhat better space over the past year or so, and I thought I could maybe handle it better. I told myself 'if I can just get through that 24 hours I'll realise it's okay and it will all work out.' Anon I cannot tell you where this thinking came from, but it was wrong. Idk why past me was kind of naive enough to think this way but here we are.

No, after that 24 hours, it got temporarily better, and then I slammed into consecutive meltdowns, each one worse than the next, until the people around me were afraid for my life. I am still recovering from some of the harm I inflicted on myself during the last three weeks and likely will be for some time to come. The combination of a really intense PTSD relapse, as well as not being able to handle (as an AuDHD person) intense changes to my schedule basically compounded and I broke.

I made the decision to rehome Toby, and first contacted the people around me. Glen's mum said she wanted a dog, and had been specifically looking into dogs like Toby anyway, and so we decided this would be best because then I could still be involved (I love Toby to pieces).

After getting some space, I finally started to adjust, and have gone back to having Toby about 4~ days a week, with a view to going to about 6 days, with one day spent with my mum, or Glen's mum.

Today is the first day I was able to handle having him on my own for around 9.5 hours. And I'm here and able to write about it, so that's progress. He'll be here all day Sunday, and then Tues-Weds-Thurs-Friday. And from there a decision will be made as to where I'm at with my mental health etc.

I'm a bit more hopeful now that I might be able to keep him, but my PTSD is still very very bad. I'm having some nights where I'm simply not sleeping until 7.30am (even if he's not here), and my hypervigilance is crazy. Like, I am having so many auditory flashbacks it's stupid. So this is why I've been saying this break hasn't been very restful or productive. Because my mental health tanked like I detonated a landmine inside myself.

I didn't actually plan the two week break for Toby! That was just a coincidence honestly.

Unfortunately I have a lot of health conditions that respond very poorly to stress, so I'm dealing with those now too. And then additionally, in all of this, I had a breast scan / mammogram / ultrasound that has confirmed a suspicious lump I found a couple of months ago (breast cancer runs in the family), and I suspect I'm going to need a biopsy. I'll find out on Monday if that's the case. That's been in the background and hasn't been helping.

There's some other stuff going on that's not really worth talking about because these are the main things, but that's a good picture I think. It turns out 'just getting through the first 24 hours' doesn't magically make a severe PTSD trigger go away. And that forced exposure is not 'exposure therapy' - that's just reinforcing a trigger.

Anyway! I feel like I'm through the worst of it, and I am seeing glimpses of how my life could be richer if I keep getting through this. But...that's why I think another break. *smiles tiredly.* I have to wait a bit now for the PTSD / C-PTSD symptoms to settle down, and I also need to see what's kind of worsened after this. Realistically, with a relapse to this degree, it could take between 3-6 months to really start recovering, or to at least get back to where I was before December.

I hope with all my heart I can get there with Toby by my side. I love him so much.

(I want to add that Toby has never ever been in a position of harm at any point, and in fact I probably put myself in harm's way for his sake, because I wanted to provide solid continuity of care - in case anyone was worried about that).

Er so yeah! But I've picked up my writing again this week and have been able to do some like...things I'd been neglecting, and I feel more human again, I just hope I get some sleep tonight

#asks and answers #personal #tobermory the cavoodle #that's also why i haven't always consistently been sharing photos #realistically he's spent about 4 days away from us?#and that alone has been enough to kind of help me sort my head out #when i realised it was PTSD that helped too #because i've been able to spot the severe hypervigilance for what it is #and sometimes just being able to name a thing helps #and finally intensive training with toby #has adjusted some of his behaviours very quickly #and he is now a very calm and well-behaved dog already #we just need to do more separation training and then i think i will finally start #settling a bit more #our vet's super happy with where he's at #but...um...you know it's never nice to make your mum cry #because she's scared for you :(#administrator gwyn wants this in the queue

39 notes · View notes

mariacallous · 3 months

Text

The myth that there is a humane way to execute someone who wants to live is getting harder to maintain in Alabama.

In early 2018, the state tried to execute a terminally ill man, Doyle Lee Hamm, whose veins had deteriorated from drug use and treatment for cancer and hepatitis C. Executioners, whose identities are concealed but who typically do not have medical backgrounds, repeatedly jabbed him in the legs, ankles and groin as they tried to set the IV line. They stopped only when the death warrant was close to expiring and Hamm’s groin was covered in blood.

A few weeks later, the state authorized a new execution method: death by nitrogen gas. At the time, it was purely hypothetical. Two other states allow it, but there had never been a known instance of a nitrogen execution.

That changed on Thursday, when Alabama killed 58-year-old Kenneth Smith by affixing a mask over his face and forcing him to inhale only nitrogen. He “appeared to shake and writhe on the gurney, sometimes pulling on the restraints” for at least two minutes, followed by several minutes of heavy breathing, The Associated Press reported.

“It was the most horrible thing I think I’ve ever seen,” said the Rev. Jeff Hood, Smith’s spiritual adviser, who has observed five executions in the past 13 months.

This was Smith’s second time in an execution chamber. A little more than a year ago, he spent four hours strapped to a gurney, awaiting execution as his final appeals made their way through the court system. Executioners jabbed his hands, arms and collarbone before finally calling off his lethal injection. The botched execution left him severely traumatized. He experienced nightmares, hypervigilance, hyperarousal and dissociation up until his death.

Smith’s 2022 experience was the third in a series of consecutive botched executions in Alabama.

In the lead-up to Smith’s death, his lawyers urged the courts to block the nitrogen execution, warning that Smith risked facing a slow, painful death by asphyxiation — or even surviving but in a “persistent vegetative state.”

The state attorney general’s office dismissed those concerns, claiming that nitrogen is “perhaps the most humane method of execution ever devised,” a baseless supposition undermined by the American Veterinary Medical Association’s recommendation that nitrogen not be used to euthanize most mammals. Rats who were exposed to nitrogen gas showed signs of “panic and distress” before they died, the group said.

The U.S. Supreme Court allowed the execution to proceed, with the three liberal justices dissenting.

“Twice now this Court has ignored Smith’s warning that Alabama will subject him to an unconstitutional risk of pain. The first time, Smith’s predictions came true,” Justice Sonia Sotomayor wrote in her dissent on Thursday, just before the execution. “This time, he predicts that Alabama’s protocol will cause him to suffocate and choke to death on his own vomit. I sincerely hope that he is not proven correct a second time.”

“The world is watching,” Sotomayor wrote. Other executing states are watching, too. As states struggle to carry out lethal injections in the face of litigation and opposition from drug companies, many are looking for new ways to kill — including firing squads and even cyanide gas, the preferred killing method of Nazi Germany. That the Supreme Court allowed Alabama to evade accountability over one secretive execution method by simply switching to another will not go unnoticed in other states.

26 notes · View notes

icallhimjoey · 1 year

Text

A Whisper Away

♥ ♥ Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader

Summary: A continuation of Like A Poem and A Lot Like Love where we dip into your November for a couple consecutive years and see how you’re getting on with the bookstore, Joe’s career and… other changes.

CW / disclaimer: rpf, fem!reader, I strongly advise you to read the previous bookstore fics before diving into this one!

Author’s note: an amazing request from @darthvontrapp inspired this “third season” in the bookstore - this is the finale! THE finale! Thank you all so much for the interactions; my stories have NEVER gotten such long messages before and it's been the greatest joy. Thank you, thank you, thank you!

Wordcount: 5.3K

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five

You were sat on the hardwood floor when you heard Joe's heavy steps on the stairs as you looked up at the empty shelves in front of you. You were surrounded by cardboard boxes and sat hidden behind stacks you’d spent hours packing over the days prior. You’d taken a moment to just be there, to just sit and look around. Feel the space for a minute and, you concluded after a little while, it felt really nice, actually. Joe’s heavy steps grew louder until he was stood in the doorway with another big brown cardboard box in his hands, and he looked at you.

“Hey, are you all right?” the worry Joe didn’t show in his expression seeped out through his voice.

Joe bent over to put the box down next to you, grunting as he did, whilst you smiled up at him and nodded.

“This might be the best gift you’ve ever given me,” and you meant it.

The small room had been fitted with custom shelving, all the way up to the ceiling, covering every inch of wall it could, but leaving an insert big enough to fit an armchair into so it wouldn't take up too much floor space. The shelves had been treated with stain to resemble the bookstore as much as they could, and you loved it. Joe'd even placed a ladder against one of the shelves - ridiculous, the ceilings weren't that high, but lovely none the less. It was the smallest room in the house, but the best one. Joe tapped his finger on the box he’d just put down.

“This is the last one, I think. Careful, though, it holds extra fragile ones. Precious cargo. Handle with care!” Joe upped the dramatics of his voice with every word he spoke.

You furrowed your brow in confusion and tried to hide your smile. “Fragile books?”

Joe didn't answer your question but instead pursed his lips into a smile before leaning over and giving you a quick kiss, then turning on his heel, probably on his way to move more boxes into their designated areas. Your new entryway was big, but the number of boxes in there made it difficult to pass through. Not ideal when you also had a three-year-old running about, discovering the place. You watched Joe leave before you opened the box.

Ah. Yes.

These were fragile books. They were Joe’s books, most of which he’d bought from the store years ago, and he treasured them to a point where you thought that in a fire, Joe would probably be frantically stacking books into his arms before he'd even think of making it out of the building safely. You moved one from the top to see that Joe had packed the ones you’d given him, too, and it made you smile. They were the ones that fixed it. Well, not really. But they were definitely books that had helped; books that had started fixing things. And all because your best friend had berated you after you let her listen to Joe’s voicemail. Part of it, at least.

It had been the day after you’d let your mother listen to it when your best friend had come into the store on her lunch break. It was like you’d said so many times; we’ll have lunch together, and your best friend always replied, yes but let’s go somewhere. You never did. It was always her standing at the short side of the counter as you stood behind it. You doing work, her having lunch.

“Bye, have a nice day!” you called after a customer as they let the door fall closed behind them. You immediately fished your phone from your pocket.

“Listen to this,” you said, dialing your voicemail. You seemed too happy for a random Wednesday afternoon and your friend had been looking at you with suspicious eyes. She didn’t trust it one bit. You very briefly mentioned something about Joe before people had entered the bookstore and you’d put on your best customer service face to help them find what they needed. Having seen your relationship start and then dwindle from up close, she had strong opinions that she would share every time you didn’t ask for it. Seeing you fall back into a pattern she had hated from the start, she needed extra convincing that you were happy for good reason.

Upon hearing about this voicemail message, your friend had furrowed her brow as she took a huge bite from her sandwich.

“Never tell Joe that I’ve let you hear this, but it’s so good, I just have to. You’ll see.”

You placed your phone on the counter, put it on speaker and let Joe’s voice fill the silence of the store. After listening to about half of it, your friend reached over and hung up, cutting off the message.

“I shouldn’t listen to that, that seems far too private,” she shook her head as she went in for another bite.

“No, but– he goes on, you’re missing all the good bits now,” you’d picked up your phone and were already dialing to get back to the message, wanting to let her listen to how Joe had said he missed you and that he loved you, because those were the best things you’d heard him say in ages. But your friend used her free hand to push yours down, stopping you.

“So he said some shit you wanted to hear, and then you went over to fuck him?” her voice was dripping in judgement. You stared at her blankly for a moment, because, yes, that’s essentially what had happened, but she made it sound like it was the worst thing you’d ever done.

“Well, I–” you started but were quickly cut off by your friend who wasn’t having it.

“You heard him says some sappy bullshit in the middle of the night through your phone and now it’s all magically okay again? I mean, don’t get me wrong, it’s fantastic that you got railed,”

You snorted at her comment.

“Lord knows you needed it, but, I don’t think that’s how this shit works… So, he grand-gestured you? Now what?”

She looked at you, eyebrows raised high up on her face, chin tilted down. You didn’t know what to say. You’d been so excited to fill her in on things, on Joe’s grand gesture, on the handholding as you’d pushed Alfie in his stroller, on the reading in the armchair... You weren’t expecting for your friend to think you were an awful human being and to be lectured for it.

“What do you mean, now what?”

“What is it you want?”

The worst question. Because you didn’t have an answer ready. What you wanted was something no one could grant you. Truly, what you wanted was go back in time a few years and have Joe be the customer that would come in and use your store as a library before his frequent visits became public knowledge. And it’s like Joe knew, because why else would he have come in to pretend you didn’t know each other? Why else had he let tension build as he’d given you quick glances and little smirks as you very openly stared at him from behind the counter with heart-shaped pupils and a shit-eating grin? If anyone could point you in the direction of a time machine, you’d choose that. That’s what you wanted.

“Do you want to form an actual family with him?”

You thought for two seconds, then gave a tiny nod. Yes, you did want that. The alternative was something you definitely didn’t want, so this was an easy question.

“It won’t be easy,” your friend warned you, giving you a look you thought maybe your mother should’ve given you the day before instead of her. You didn’t know if you should have felt offended by it or not, but you decided to take her words at face value, knowing they were coming from a friend who cared. When you stayed silent, your friend tutted at you.

“That’s the whole thing, isn’t it? You thought this would be simple…”

No, you didn’t. Not exactly. You had known from the start that it wouldn’t be, and that was exactly what you had been afraid of. Because you wanted it to be simple. And Joe had made it sound simple. He had promised you simplicity when you had expressed that you’d been scared. Had you just been dumb enough to accept that as a truth, and were now blaming him for things not being as simple as either of you had imagined? That felt a little unfair, to you and to Joe.

“I don’t know how to explain to you that relationships are always going to be hard work, regardless of career choices, or children, or… I don’t know, public opinion, business ventures, travel – it’s always going to be difficult, and it’s always going to be pushing you out of all of your comfort zones.”

“You’re always going to be compromising,” you almost whispered it as you realised there wasn’t going to be a place that you’d arrive at one day, where everything would just be perfect, and you felt awful that this wasn’t something you’d actually realised sooner. There wasn't going to be a day where you'd be walking outside with Joe and no one would stop you to ask Joe for a picture. There wasn't going to be a day where girls would stop coming into the store and ogle at Alfie if he was in, telling you how much he looked like his father. There wasn't going to be a time where your distant family members would stop inviting you to parties you'd never have been invited to before, but you were now, all the time, and you assumed it was only because they'd hope you'd bring Joe. This was a reality with no end in sight, no final station for you to get off the fame-train and live in happily-ever-after-anonymity. It was something you’d known all along, somewhere in the back of your mind, but you’d never really felt it in your bones like you did now.

“You’re always going to be compromising.” she confirmed, echoing your words back at you.

You thought for a second, then looked at your friend.

“But our relationship's simple,” you countered, talking about your friendship with her. You’d been friends forever and still had the same dynamics you’d had for well over 15 years at this point. Your comment made her pout at you condescendingly. “Sweetheart, that’s only because I get to not speak to you for a week if I don’t want to put up with your shit for a little while,”

“Oh…”

“Look at where we are now. Do I not always say we need to go somewhere for lunch for once? And you always agree, saying that we should. Yet, here I am again, having another meal deal chicken club sandwich in your shop.” she gestured at what was left of her lunch.

Shit. She was right, and your face flushed with embarrassment.

You took another minute to think to yourself, glad no customers had come in yet to disturb the conversation. Even though most of the words weren’t things you wanted to hear, so far it had been an incredibly helpful and insightful chat. One you probably should’ve had way sooner, except you probably wouldn’t have accepted it then.

You shifted on your feet and turned your body to fully face your friend. Time to be vulnerable and ask her for help. Something you definitely had needed to do way sooner.

“What do I do?”

Your best friend was surprised by the sudden shift in you. She put the last bit of her sandwich into her mouth, wiped her hands clean and chewed for a second.

"Go for drinks with me, I still have about half an hour and I could down a few gin tonics if I put some effort in," she spoke with her mouth still full of food.

"About Joe," you clarified, taking a mental note of needing to go for drinks with your friend soon. Today, if possible.

“Grand-gesture him back and then commit,” your friend said it so fast, like it was the obvious thing to do. Like it made perfect sense.

“Commit…” you said it slowly as you let the word sink into your mind. “Commit to…?” you questioningly narrowed your eyes at your friend for a second, and she absolutely wasn’t having it.

“Oh my God, you’re such a stupid bitch. To Joe! To your family! To your life together, as a unit! Like, actually communicate! Talk! Share your feelings! Stop sticking your nose into a book every time you dare to fucking feel something!”

She made you laugh. Okay, you gathered as much and understood her loud and clear. You let your eyes wander around the store, going up and down shelves until eventually they landed on what used to be Joe’s ledge. His little ledge where he’d keep books that he wasn’t finished reading yet before you’d started dating and he used to use the store as his own personal library. Now, it was just a ledge. A place where Anne would sometimes leave her phone or mug of coffee that she'd forget about and let grow cold.

How could you pull a grand gesture like Joe had done? Leave him a voicemail message in the middle of the night? No. Joe would answer his phone, and it wouldn’t bear the same weight.

“Joe came in to read yesterday…” you said, your brain going full speed, trying to come up with something.

“Great, so you’re back in primary school?” your friend was just as annoyed, if not more so now, with the two of you as she had been when that’s what all you guys were; a guy reading in a bookstore, and its owner.

Suddenly: an idea.

You stepped around the counter and took a ladder to place at a shelf you needed something from. It took you no time to find it, and you were quick to climb down and place the book you’d grabbed on the ledge.

Stuff you should know, by Josh Clark.

You thought for a second, let your eye fall on one of the display tables and were quick to find the next book you were after.

I love you to the moon and back, from Little Tiger Press.

Your best friend watched you dart around the store for a good five minutes as the pile on the ledge grew. Halfway through, she saw what you were doing and rolled her eyes.

“What the fuck are you doing?” she asked, searching for confirmation as you were crouched down in a corner, head cocked to the side to be able to read the spines.

“It’s the books!” you explained erratically, like you’d figured life out itself.

“It’s always the fucking books.” your friend replied, shaking her head at you with a smile.

Tell me Three Things, by Julie Buxbaum.

Me You Us, by Lisa Currie

In Case You Missed It, by Lindsey Kelk

You're The One That I Want, by Giovanna Fletcher

Take Me With You When You Go, by David Levithan

With You Forever, by Chloe Liese

Under One Roof, by Ali Hazelwood

PS I Love You, by Cecelia Ahern

They were all books Joe would never read. But he didn’t need to. He’d have to read the titles, and that would be enough. When you thought the assortment of books was big enough, and the titles said all that needed saying, you rushed into the breakroom and came back out slinging your arms into your coat.

"Come on," you said to your friend as you reached for your keys in your pocket and turned the sign on the back of the door to read closed.

"Where are we going?" she asked, but followed your example.

"I'm going to see how much gin you can neck before you have to be back in the office."

Your friend stared at you for a second, entirely caught off guard. It was the middle of the day. You didn't have Anne in, so you'd actually have to close the store for a bit - something you always said you couldn't do, especially not at lunch time, because it's when most customers would stop by. Your friend was waiting for the moment for you to tell her you were joking. But you weren't.

"Come on, let's go," you beckoned, already out the door, holding it open for your friend to follow you.

"Yea, all right," she snapped out of it, smiled, hurriedly grabbed all her things and followed you out the store.

When Joe had found the books on the ledge, you'd been stood up on a ladder and got to see his reaction from above. It took him a little while to figure it out. When he did, he turned to look up at you, and held up Take Me With You When You Go, by David Levithan with questioning eyes. You just smiled and nodded. Then he turned back, picked up Under One Roof, by Ali Hazelwood and showed you that one too. You could help but laugh, and had nodded at him again. Joe'd turned back to the books again, and had carefully eyed all of them, placing them back in the order he found them, and then moved to pick up a ladder that he placed down next to you. Then he'd climbed up to meet you up near the ceiling and you shared the most dangerous, exhilarating kiss you'd ever shared before.

Joe's books were the first books that found a new home on the new shelves in the new room in the new house. Joe kept calling it your library, but you kept switching between study, reading room and just 'the shelves'. But to Alfie you'd already referenced to it as a library, so you were sure that was going to be the name to stick.

"Babe?" you heard Joe call for you from downstairs. "Remind me what time we need to leave again?"

You checked the time and found it was much later than you'd realised.

"Oh, shit, um... now?" you grimaced as you called back down.

"Come on, Alf, shoes on!" you heard Joe call out to Alfie, followed by his little feet pitter-pattering across the floorboards. You took a last look around the shelves before you left the room. There was so much work still to do, so many boxes still to unpack, but your heart was full and you felt content.

You'd cried for a full day when you'd moved out of the apartment, and you had felt so stupid for it too. But when Joe'd found you cursing at yourself in the kitchen, away from the movers and everyone else helping for a second, with a folded piece of kitchen roll pressed to your undereyes, he'd taken a minute to hug you.

"It's so stupid, they are just... rooms," you'd said, annoyed that material things seemed to have such an immense impact on you.

"They're not just rooms, you know they're not." Joe'd comforted you, and you'd immediately accepted that he was right and they weren't just rooms. They were the rooms that your grandfather had let you fix up all by yourself at 19. They were the rooms that you'd then lived in for years when your grandfather still owned the store, and you'd just needed to wander down the stairs to hang out with him if you wanted. They were the rooms in which your grandfather had officially passed the store onto you, and it had made your mother cry and your granddad had called her a silly cow for it.

So you sniffled into Joe's shirt in the kitchen, and tried to pull yourself together. When you thought you were ready and wanted to pull back from your hug, Joe wouldn't let you. "Little longer," he'd whispered, and then you'd embraced each other tightly, strong limbs around tensed backs, until a mover had a question about some furniture pieces.

Moving had been an emotionally draining process, and you'd held on to all the upsides for dear life. You'd be moving into a gorgeous town house, not even that far from the store. You'd have so much more space and, to be honest, it was probably healthy for you to not live at your job. Being there 24/7 had turned you into a person you honestly didn't even really like yourself anymore. And moving out didn't mean that the apartment would turn back into the useless storage space it had been before.

Because as you'd been moving your boxes of stuff out of the place, Anne had been moving her boxes of stuff in to the place.

And tonight, she'd invited all of you over for dinner. To set the move in stone. To invite you into her apartment with all of her things in. To really make it real. Scary? Yes. Needed and necessary? Absolutely.

When you made your way out of your new house, you realised it was the first time you were going to walk from there over to the bookstore as a family together. It was maybe a 15 minute walk if you were slow, and you had Alfie with you, so you knew you would be. Alfie was sat in his stroller, but kept asking to walk, and so when you passed the bakery, Joe stopped and opened the straps for Alfie to get onto his feet. It was nearing the end of the day, and the bakery seemed empty and you were sure it was just about to close.

"Joe, we're already late," you slumped your shoulders when you saw Joe step towards the bakery's door, holding it open for Alfie to enter.

"We'll just be a second," Joe smiled and you sighed, but didn't stop them. From outside on the pavement, you saw Joe pick up Alfie so he could see better before talking to one of the counter staff.

After a few minutes they stepped back out and Joe was holding a croissant. Just one, singular croissant.

"Do you want a little bite?" Joe held the pastry out to Alfie, but Alfie shook his head, already on his way down the pavement on his own, happy for the independence he'd been granted before you'd strap him back into his stroller again. Then Joe took a big bite from it himself before giving the rest of it to you.

"We're literally just about to have dinner," you said, giving him a look, but Joe had you giggling and swooning when he grabbed your face for croissant-flavoured kisses.

"Do we ring the doorbell now?" you weren't sure.

"We literally have the key," Joe laughed.

"Yea but, the store's closed, and we're visitors now..."

It was very strange to not be sure how you would enter your own store. When you rounded the corner, you could see the illumination coming from the windows and before you could properly see it, you knew Anne had left on the Christmas lights that you'd put up earlier that day. When you got closer, you could see Anne was sat in one of the armchairs, waiting for you. But then, when Alfie was already trying to open the door, you could see someone else in the store too, sat in the armchair opposite Anne.

When you walked in, you were met with two girls in their early twenties, looking very relaxed and happy to say hi to Alfie. One of them you knew so very well. Anne, your employee, the unapproachable girl who'd never smile if she didn't need to, with death-stares that could honestly murder someone if they stared at them long enough. The other girl was all smiles, colourful clothes with a sunny upbeat disposition and the friendliest face you'd ever seen.

"Hi," Joe said, sticking out his hand for her to to shake, which she instantly did, her smile beaming at the both of you. "I'm Joe,"

"Daisy," she felt like the human equivalent of a golden retriever puppy.

You also introduced yourself, and then looked at Anne who now had Alfie in her lap, but her face still as expressionless as ever; the human equivalent of a distant angry cat.

"My girlfriend," Anne almost seemed grumpy at having to explain who Daisy was to her, and it made Daisy giggle.

Joe and you shared a look, trying to hide your big, shocked eyes as to not be rude. This was a surprise to say the least.

"Are you hungry Alfie? Anne made us all dinner," Daisy cooed, and Alfie quickly nodded, climbing off of Anne's lap and leaping forward to grab Daisy's hand who was about to lead him up the stairs. Joe gave you funny eyes and a scrunch of his nose before following them.

Away from Daisy's eyes and ears, you shot Anne a confused and shocked look.

"Excuse me, you have a girlfriend?" you hissed. "Why did I not know about this?"

Anne frowned at you. "You've met her three times."

You stopped Anne who was about to follow Joe into the breakroom.

"No I haven't,"

"You were there when we met. You've literally sold her books before,"

You scanned Anne's face to see the slightest hint of humour, but even when Anne was in a good mood, humour was hard to detect. Anne was being serious. Had Anne been having her own bookstore romance under your nose and had you been too thick to even have noticed it? Too busy with your own life to have even caught a glimpse of what had been happening right in front of you?

Apparently so.

Dinner was lovely. Anne was a lovely cook. Daisy was lovely. Anne had lovely taste in that department too. The way they complimented each other came as a huge surprise to you; from the look of them, you'd have never paired them up. Also because you weren't aware of Anne's sexuality; not that you needed to have been, of course.

When Joe had complimented Daisy on her colourful outfit, Daisy had smiled at Anne and said that she'd put it on because it was Anne's favourite, because Anne liked it a lot when she matched her scrunchies with her dress. This prompted all of you to look at Anne, whose cheeks immediately flushed as she gave you a very defensive, "What? Does she not look nice?". You'd all quickly agreed, because, yes, Daisy did look lovely.

When after dinner Alfie started twirling his curls with his little fingers as he laid out on Anne's sofa, you knew he was growing tired and it'd soon be time to leave and head home. But then Daisy made a comment about your nail polish, and the conversation took a turn; you were now talking about girly things, and Joe listened for half a minute as you spoke about the best nail salons and hair dressers in the neighbourhood before excusing himself.

"I'll see you girls later, Daisy, lovely to meet you. Anne, dinner was gorgeous. I'll take Alfie downstairs, see you in a minute?" Joe kissed you on the top of the head before grabbing Alfie and making his way down into the store. The store, which was your territory still. Not like up in the apartment, where you truly felt like guests in someone else's home now, even though just a week ago, this space had still felt the most 'you' a space had ever felt to you before.

You spent 15, maybe 20 more minutes chatting, before you also thanked Anne for dinner and said goodbye to Daisy. Closing the door behind you, now stood on the dark landing above the stairs, you took a deep breath.

Everything was different now. And honestly? It was fine. More than fine, actually. It was good.

When you stepped into the breakroom, you could hear Joe's voice. From the rhythm of his speech, you could hear that he was reading to Alfie. There was a full display of children's books, so it didn't surprise you one bit that he had taken the opportunity to read Alfie a bedtime story, especially since you'd taken quite a long time to follow him down. But when you stepped into the store, your breath hitched in your throat at the sight of them, and you froze. You just stood there for a second and stared at the perfect picture in front of you. If Joe had noticed you, he hadn't shown it, as he had calmly kept reading to Alfie.

Joe was sat in his armchair with Alfie on his lap. Alfie was quite literally about to fall asleep, eyes nearly closed, soft rosy cheeks, fingers all twirled up in his curls and completely relaxed against his father's chest. On Alfie's lap, Joe held a big, brown, leather bound book that he was reading from.

The one book you'd never sell.

You realised you'd never read it to Alfie ever before. It had just been up there, on the shelf, in its spot, where you'd always kept it and where it was supposed to be. You'd never thought to take it down, and you silently wondered why. Was it something too painful? Too precious to you? That book held so much of your childhood that you could practically feel the weight of it just by looking at it up high on the shelf. Maybe that was why you'd not touched it in years? When you let Joe's words register, tears sprung into your eyes as you realised which specific story he was reading Alfie.

The Moon Ribbon.

You were a puddle of a person, leaning against the wall, watching your baby slowly drift into sweet dreams to the words of the story your grandfather would read you all the time. You had tears streaming down your face and tried to silent your sobs as much as you could, barely breathing as you did. Joe spotted you, smiled softly, and then kept reading. Joe knew Alfie was falling asleep on him and his voice lowered in volume because of it, but he kept reading, because he knew now that you were listening too.

It had been literal seconds ago that, at the top of the stairs, you'd thought to yourself that everything had changed and was different now. But looking at Joe in the bookstore, sat in the armchair that used to be your grandfather's but had over the years really turned into his armchair, illuminated by the soft yellow light from the Christmas lights strung up high all across the ceiling, you realised that actually, nothing had changed and nothing was different now.

Joe was still Joe. Your bookstore was still your bookstore. And there Joe still was, sat in the spot where you had always wanted him the most, reading the most valuable book your store's shelves harboured, to the sweetest little boy you knew.

Joe finished the story and slowly closed the book. He looked down to see Alfie fast asleep, and carefully carried him over to his stroller. Then he turned to you, and before Joe could even say anything, you croaked "Two things." and held up two fingers, in case your voice faltered too much for Joe to understand.

"Two things?" Joe asked, his eyebrows scrunching together as he stepped closer and got a better look at your tear-stained cheeks.

"There's only two things," you spoke on an exhale, which helped you get the words out and Joe's hands found your waist.

"Yea?" Joe smiled down at you, chin tucked into his neck.

"It's Alfie, and you," you said, poking a finger into his chest before you let him lean in and kiss you on the temple. "S'just two things," you said, pushing your forehead into the side of Joe's face as he hugged you close.

"Two things," Joe repeated before leaning back a little to be able to press sweet soft kisses to your mouth. And it was like your mother had said; once they figured it out, it was easy.

"Two things."

the end

-----

The Taglisted:

@ghostinthebackofyourhead @kiwisa @jasminearondottir @josephquinned @cancankiki @sidthedollface2 @dylanmunson @munsonsgirl71 @alana4610 @emmamooney @xomunson @sadbitchfangirl @thatonefan-girl @paola-carter @eddiemunsonfuxks @figmentofquinn @haylaansmi @thewondernanazombie @hellowhatthehellisgoingonhere @munsonmunster @kellysimagines @dirtyeddietini @mybffjoe @harrys-tittie @chaoticgood-munson @harringtonfan4 @sherrylyn628 @bdpst-massacre @xeddiesbattattsx @05secondsofsexgods @lovelyblueness @adoreyouusugar @nadixq @prozacandnicotine @munsonswhore86 @alwayslindie @thefemininemystiquee @hauntingbastille @eddie-joe-munson @ali-in-w0nderland - add yourself

#joe quinn #joseph quinn #joe quinn x reader #joseph quinn x reader #joe quinn fanfic #joseph quinn fanfic #fluff #fanfiction #joe x reader #joseph x reader #a whisper away #part 5 #like a poem #a lot like love #the end

229 notes · View notes

journey-to-the-attic · 1 month

Text

3rd anni req 6: belphie, astaroth / stellar confession

ao3 link

note: i've done some scribblings before for our main pairings in my own time, but i think this is the first thing i've written in earnest with romance as the focus for jtta! all things considered, i'm happy with this - "no.1 boyfriend enjoyer", this is for you

∎ ∎ ∎ ∎ ∎

It isn’t so much a surprise as it is an irritation when the penny finally drops.

It starts on an idle night, lying in the observatory, whiling away the hours with only the stars - and the voice on the other end of the phone - for company. And it happens like this:

Astaroth says something about how late it is. Belphie yawns and mumbles, “I dunno. I can’t sleep without hearing your voice.”

And neither of them acknowledge it. Eventually, he drifts off, knowing that Astaroth will be able to tell and end the call in his stead, and that is the end of that. Until morning, anyway.

He wakes up in a snap, and his lethargy vanishes faster than it’s ever done before. There is only one thought on his mind: why did I say that??

It isn’t true - demonstrably. He takes naps all the time, usually without warning, and certainly without needing to talk to anyone first. He was probably just talking without thinking. He does that a lot when he’s about to drift off.

But then he thinks about it a little more, and suddenly he realises how many nights in recent memory he’s spent on the phone. Not all of them, surely - Lucifer would kill him for doing that so many times consecutively - but a lot of them.

So he decides to run a little test. Next time he feels the need to pick up his D.D.D. and scroll down to that specific contact, he’ll ignore it. This much he should be able to manage without much issue, mostly because it requires an absence of physical effort, which is his specialty.

Except it doesn’t. He keeps having to stop himself from reaching for his phone - as in, practically has to restrain himself from moving. That’s the first part that gives him pause.

The second part comes late at night. He should be able to drop off without a problem. Instead, he tosses and turns, counting the weird noises Beel makes in his sleep, and nothing happens for hours on end.

Conclusion: he wasn’t just saying nonsense. These days, once he feels the urge, he really can’t get to sleep without hearing Astaroth’s voice first.

This is troubling news. He tells IK so the next time they have a video call.

She isn’t looking at the camera when he does, and she doesn’t take her eyes off whatever she’s doing at first. “That’s kind of normal, isn’t it? Honeymoon phase or something.”

“Honeymoon phase?”

IK turns to the camera with a blink. “...you’re not going out?”

“Going out where?”

IK is quiet for a very long time. It gives him a distinct feeling that she’s disappointed in him.

“...you aren’t dating?” She asks finally.

“D— what?” His head had started drooping, but now he sits bolt upright. “Huh??”

IK is doing the same face Satan does when he’s about to ask ‘Are you stupid?’ - so before she can, Belphie continues, “That’s not a thing. That’s never been a thing. Stop looking at me like that.”

“Belphie,” IK says, with that endless patience that she is definitely too young to have, “Have you even noticed that you like him?”

Belphie stares blankly at her little face on the screen. And then it finally hits him.

“...oh.”

IK sighs loudly. He hurries to defend himself. “I wasn’t paying attention to it! I thought it was just— I don’t know, I didn’t have time for that.”

“You’re so lucky I’m not there right now,” Ik says very seriously. “Or else I’d hit you. Actually, can you do it for me?”

“Already ahead of you, twinkle.” He knocks himself firmly on the head, then slumps onto his arms with a groan. “So that’s what that was about.”

“What did you think it was about? You’ve been on a billion dates now.”

“I didn’t know they were dates! And there definitely weren’t a billion. Wait, how do you even know about that?”

“‘Cause Asmo tells me everything. You even stopped saying that they weren’t dates - we thought you’d just figured it out.”

Now that he thinks about it - he hasn’t been denying any of those accusations lately. At some point, without him noticing, they had become dates, so he hadn’t sensed anything off when Asmo referred to them as such. So he hadn’t corrected him.

He leaves that conversation with a great deal of enlightenment that he rather wishes he hadn’t received.. Now that the thought’s in his mind, he can’t stop lingering on it - overthinking every little detail in the same way Satan does every bit of background symbolism every time they watch a play. And it drives him crazy, but now he can’t even make fun of him for it, because he’d be throwing stones at glass houses.

He thinks about going to one of his brothers for advice - but the very notion sends a shiver up his spine. The most he can do is vent to Beel, because the others certainly will not have any useful advice to offer.

Which leaves him with one other option. At times like this, Belphie does wish his main other confidant wasn’t a kid thousands and thousands of years his junior. It’s beginning to feel rather humiliating to keep consulting her on this subject when he should almost certainly know better than her.

“Just say something,” IK says one day, clearly sick of it all. Even if her advice has been working so far, there’s only so many suggestions she can come up with.

“It isn’t that easy.”

She sighs loudly, and he imagines the sharp look she’d be giving him if she was there - the one that just kind of makes him want to pinch her cheek. “It’ll make you feel better. Seriously, you can’t keep going like this forever. It’s like you’ve gone crazy.”

“Maybe I am crazy now,” He grumbles, but it does make him think.

Quite frankly, it is embarrassing how much he’s been acting the fool as of late. It’s not like him to be flighty and unsure - he’s blunt by nature, but so is Astaroth, and he’s not sure just how devastating a rejection could be from someone of so few words.

IK’s right. Even if it doesn’t go the way he wants it to, it’ll be over at the very least. He has to do something about this… only then will he finally know peace.

Some might say he’s being dramatic. When the moment finally arrives, though, he thinks he’s being anything but.

His heartbeat sounds like a drumline.That shouldn’t be allowed. Nothing should just be able to do that to you - it’s so unfair.

They’ve been on this hill so many times already that he’s lost count, but tonight every blade of grass feels fresh and new. There’s a slight chill on the breeze, but he can barely feel it.

They gaze up at the stars in silence. Belphie lies in the grass as if it is his bed - ungraceful, but comfortable. Astaroth lies in the grass like he’s in a painting.

He sighs quietly. Nothing for it.

“Astaroth,” Belphie says, and everything else comes out in one breath. “I think I’m in love with you.”

The night is quiet. He feels too tense to even move, so he keeps staring at the sky instead.

“...what?”

“Don’t make me say it again,” He mumbles - as much a plea as it is a quip. “You heard me.”

“I know.” He can hear a smile on his voice. The question is whether it’s earnest or sarcastic - because sometimes, it really is hard to tell with Astaroth. “I just want to hear it one more time.”

“Fine,” He says, a little sharper than he meant to. “I’m in love with you. Happy now?”

It’s quiet again. After a moment, Astaroth admits, “I think you’re the only demon in the world who could say that to me and mean it.”

“Don’t be stupid. I bet you’ve got tons of fans.”

“Maybe. But you’re the only one I want to believe.”

“Just believe?”

“You’re the only thing I like looking at more than the stars. What do you think?”

He hadn’t expected to hear the words back - not in the same way he said them, anyway, because Astaroth is only ever literal when he doesn’t have to put his own feelings out on the line. He thinks he’s gone and outdone him, though. His heart is doing stupid things in his chest.

Belphie waits for a moment. Nothing happens, and he can’t quite keep a plaintive lilt out of his voice when he prompts, “So?”

“So?” repeats Astaroth.

“You can’t touch the stars. But I’m not far away like they are. Aren’t you going to do something about it?”

There’s that teasing smile again. Belphie’s beginning to suspect that Astaroth has known exactly what he was doing this whole time. “Like what?”

He inches closer, until there’s barely a breath between them, and wonders how long they have before someone comes looking for them. “I don’t know. Figure it out.”

#3rd anni event #obey me #obey me belphegor #jtta astaroth #belpheroth #writing

14 notes · View notes

gyusfavlibra · 1 year

Text

𝔹𝔼𝕃𝔸𝕋𝔼𝔻 𝕋𝕌𝕋𝕆ℝ | 𝕁𝕆𝕊ℍ𝕌𝔸 ℍ𝕆ℕ𝔾

Pairings: Joshua x gender neutral reader! Friends to lover! College au!

Warnings: Minor language, fluff.

Word Count: +2K

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Quietness took over the building as each student inside did a variety of things that were intended for school.

Studying, reading, writing.

You sat at your own two seated table. A white lamp brightened the secluded area that you studied in. The chair next to you was empty. Saved for someone specific. Designated for your friend, Joshua Hong, to come in and help you study for your similar upcoming exams.

You were a Junior in college. Finishing up the last class credits you needed to graduate. Which included passing said exams. You were 100% nervous, absolutely terrified. You couldn't lie about that or else you'd grow a large nose..

Especially since you had been staying up almost every night til at least 2 am everyday for the past week studying for all your important tests.

You wanted to make your parents proud. Not even just them. You wanted to make yourself proud. Looking forward to getting high paying yet enjoyable jobs that provided her with the money needed to fend for herself and her future after school.

You told your parents exactly this, which is why they hired Joshua to be your tutor. Which is how they become acquainted in the first place.

You weren't BAD persay, but you weren't the smartest either. Joshua, however, was. Which was one of the very many reasons you began to like him. That and the fact that you found him to be very funny and super handsome.

The crush didn't start not too long after your first few sessions. He was always so understanding, gentle, patient. Unlike a huge percentage of the the attendees on the campus.

But along with the hot smirk and the turning personality thoughts came his tardiness. Consecutive would be a dramatic word to describe it not being the first time. Only the third time in the last two weeks to be exact. But you choose to give him the benefit of the doubt.

You knew it was because of his friends. And you couldn't blame him. If you weren't so worried about you own piled up assignments, you'd probably be with your friends a lot as well. Maybe even at this moment. You could easily ditch this session and do so now.

However, getting heated over that topic would only make you very hypocritical.

Another ten minutes pass of you sitting alone. At this rate, you'd only be able to get work done for a single class. It works. Better than nothing. You mentally thump your head for not just choosing to start on your own. Hoping in general to get done with at least three.

You deeply sighed. Pulling you hard covered text book towards your chest. The sound of the material sliding against the wood making a swoosh sound.

Skipping to the chapter you need to study on, you began reading away. Skimming through the bold text. Using a bright orange highlighter, you colored any quotes or sentences that answered questions on your study guide.

That same routine you followed for the rest of the hour you had left in the library before you felt the sudden want to just finish the work at home.

You stamped the lid onto the neon utensil and packed it back into the pocket you pulled it from.

You pull the history book cover, shut. Sending a miniature wave of air to dash on the papers beside it.

Just as you were about to put your papers away, the longed presence you spent the last hour waiting for, had finally showed up. Out of breath, textbook in hand, and his backpack over his shoulder.

You stared at him with risen eyebrows. "You okay?"

"Y...just give- give me a second."

His limp upper body bent over after slapping the book onto the desk. The smack catching the attention of a staff member. You smiled to apologize. His heavy breathing filling the enclosed area. He slapped his hand on his stomach after letting out a whistle threw his lips.

"Sorry- I'm late. I- had...OH MY GOD."

"You should sit down."

He obliged to your suggestion and sat in the wooden chair behind himself. You slid your water bottle to him where he gave you a thankful look and downed half the water before returning back to normal.

"I had detention. Mr. Kim."

"Ah, I see," you nodded with pursed lips. "Well, uh- I got some work done so, I'm not gonna waste any of your time. I'll just head hom-"

"Home? Why?" he questioned while standing. Assumingly faster than he zoomed to the building.

"Because I'm sure you're busy. And it's already 4. Passed session time."

"So?"

His questioning responses were shaking you to the core. Especially with the middle toned masculine voice he had. Same voice you always looked forward to hearing.

"So...I'm sure you don't wanna sit in here any longer."

"Y/n, if you're here, then I wanna be here."

Those words. Those damn words. You had lost count of how many times your stomach absolutely churned when he spoke like that. Or even said your name right before he said something in such a way. But if you had a dollar for every time you did get butterflies, you'd be in Hawaii, living life. "I don't wanna do this alone."

Joshua sat back down. Pulling open his textbook. When he noticed your figure not joining him yet, he tapped the seat with his yellow pencil before pulling out more papers.

You quietly hide the giggles and smile you were so desperately trying to not have, but this boy, well he made it hard. Very hard. So hard your cheeks actually began to hurt.

"Okay, what class have you already done work for?"

"Uh-" you finally join him. "I did history."

"Cool. Then the hard part is out of the way. So, let's do Math and then English. Let's say 45 minutes each. Deal?"

The boy with shiny mid length brown hair peered his eyes to the other human sitting beside him. Eyebrows risen as he waited for a response. You were so caught in his beautiful figure that it took the clearing of his own throat to gain your attention back to it's rightful place. Not fast enough.

"Huh? Oh, yeah. 30 minutes each. Sounds amazing."

"45 minutes."

"45. Got it."

The boy laughed at your quirkiness, making sure you didn't see that he had found himself adoring it more than he should. Not wanting to expose his ownself.

"Cool."

You two began working together like you had many times before. Thanking the heavens you had almost all the same classes so you could work together on most of them.

The first set of chosen minutes had passed like lightning speed. But, you did work great together so you got more done than expected.

As for the next set of the time, you begun to lose control as to what you should have really been working on. The work. But instead, you're busy watching a video of Joshua at a young age, singing into a plastic karaoke mic. Red and yellow colors matching the rainbow jumpsuit he wore in the film.

The boy felt embarrassed, but everytime he tried to pull it away, you couldn't help but grab his wrist, stopping him from moving the phone. Your grip sending chills down his spine. You enjoyed the little clips of him vocalizing so beautifully.

He's definitely gotten better. It was really improved. You've seen him practice between classes. Along with his whispered humming he does when you work silently.

"God, imagine having such an angelic voice at a young age," you sighed. Sitting upwards to stop yourself from slouching. The chairs weren't so comfortable. "Especially if you've been around instruments all your life."

"Well, thanks to musicals and many TV series. I have that special opportunity."

"Well, you're amazing!"

"Noo, you're just saying that-" he began to fluster. Staring at pencil in hand.

"I'm not. I've met a lot of musical students, but you by far, are my favorite," you smile shyly. Tapping his broad shoulder.

"It's cause most a looked down upon by parents for the music major."

"It seems difficult. But you do so well, I bet when a stranger first hears you, they're shocked when they hear you sing so well."

His cheeks began to turn a bright red. Trying so hard to not beam the smile he so deeply kept down. Like you also had been doing.

"Honestly, now, it makes sense how I don't do so well in school. I'm not as talented. Just good at writing."

Joshua flipped his eyes to now look at your view. Shaking his head. "No, don't compare those. Y/n, writing is also a talent. Poetry, even writing lyrics. And besides, you're already too smart."

"I'm not. If I was, I wouldn't need you to help me with all of this."

"That's your parents and your brain talking. You never needed me."

You stare blankly at the papers on the wooden table. Confused as to what he really was getting to.

"I'm surprised you haven't canceled yet."

"Me?"

"Y/n, you know how may times you've gotten to an answer on your own. Without my help," he spoke softly. "You're really smart. And you know it. I know you do."

"So, why say yes to the tutoring then?" you giggled. Trying to make it seem like his compliments were just reflections of you complimenting his singing.

Joshua's heart began to skip. Losing it's calories for it's very own exercises.

He didn't know how to come out with it in a better approach than this. And if he didn't answer now, who knew when he'd have another opportunity to say what was on his chest. Now or never.

And now is always better.

"Okay, to tell you the truth..."

He began to become hesitant. Your chest started racing as well. But you wanted to hear it. Whether it was a pitiful coming comment or a very beneficial one, you asked, and you wanted to know.

"You can tell me."

One half of his mouth curved into a smirk. Looking down to the floor before looking back up. "I knew the first few times I worked with you, that I didn't need to tutor you. But it felt good to talk to you, so I just kept showing up."

You nodded. Giving him permission to continue.

"After awhile, I got to know you more. How smart you were. How funny and kind your were, and I just couldn't stop seeing you. So, to tell the truth, Y/n. I honestly really like you. And I know it's probably suddenn but I needed to say something."

The words you had longed for, for so long had finally fallen out his mouth and you couldn't at all hide the big ass smile you plastered. Almost built like a bright and large rainbow.

"I just hope you like me. And I didn't totally just embarrass myself."

You giggled. Placing a hand on his cheek, you pulled his face so you could place a kiss on his other cheek.

"I like you too. Why do you always think I stay even after you're late? To stay with you."

"I should've picked up on that," he chuckled. You nodded in agreement before Joshua exchanged a kiss back to your temple as he hugged you.

"Let's finish work so I can't take you out to dinner."

"Really? You don't have to."

"I want to."

••••••••••••••••••

#joshua #joshua hong #joshua imagines #seventeen fanfic #joshua hong fanfic #seventeen fluff #seventeen scenarios #joshua fluff #joshua scenarios #seventeen x reader #joshua x reader #seventeen #seventeen x y/n #college au #hong jisoo #jisoo hong

165 notes · View notes