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burntheedges · 3 months

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Maintenance Request: Chapter 13

Joel Miller x f!reader | new chapter every Friday 18+ | ao3 | main post & chapter list chapter word count: 9.3k

chapter summary: you (10:42 PM): going home with Joel 😳 a/n: thank you as always to @katareyoudrilling for being the best beta 💕 chapter tags/warnings: flirting, banter, fluff, poetry (links at the bottom), cursing, we are earning that explicit rating today folks, pet names (honey, baby, gorgeous, darlin’, my smart girl, my pretty girl, my good girl, sweetheart, handsome, cowboy), smut: fondling, kissing, cuddling, dirty talk, oral (f!receiving), fingering (f!receiving), mention of breasts (and fondling), grinding, p-in-v sex, creampie (reader is on birth control, but wrap it up IRL, folks)

Chapter 13

Friday, October 25 (still) Ninth week of the semester

The ride to Joel’s was full of tension, in the best possible way. His hand quickly found a home on your leg and his fingers wandered to the inside of your thigh over the course of the drive. You sent Beth his address, which he dictated dutifully when you asked, and tucked your phone back in your pocket before reaching out to hold his hand while you watched him drive.

At a stop light he looked over and met your gaze. He smirked. “See something you like, darlin’?”

You hummed. “Reckon I do, cowboy.”

He squeezed your thigh. “Reckon I like the look of you in my truck, gorgeous.” You smiled.

Joel didn’t live too far out of town, it turned out, and you realized he lived in the same suburb as you, just at different ends.

“Not too far from me, then,” you observed. He nodded.

His house wasn’t huge, but clearly well-maintained. It looked homey and comfortable even from the outside.

The landscaping, though, was amazing. You stared at it through the window of the truck.

“Holy crap, Joel.” You could hear the wonder in your voice. “Did you do all of that?”

There was some grass, but what drew your attention was the beautiful arrangement of trees and bushes curving from the front around the side of the house. And there were flowers everywhere. It looked wild and riotous, in a way, but also planned, like it had been encouraged to grow into its shape. You wished it wasn’t so dark out so you could take in the full effect. “It’s beautiful,” you breathed, and as your breath fogged up the window you realized you’d leaned in so close your forehead was almost touching it. You finally looked over at Joel and realized he was blushing.

“Er, yeah. That was me.” He cleared his throat. “Sarah helped, a bit. She’s not as into it as I am, but she knows her way around a garden.” While he pulled to a stop in the driveway you were jumping out of the truck almost before you realized it. You stepped on to the path of stones that led through the front yard with your mouth open in awe, looking around you at the plants that guided and formed the path. You stepped forward slowly, looking around you and taking it all in. Distracted, you barely noticed the sound of his footsteps as Joel came up behind you. His arms slid around your waist and his face found a home in the curve of your neck. You could feel the heat of his blush and raised one of your hands to tangle in his hair.

“Joel, this really is beautiful.” You were still breathless and could hear it. “I just— I’m amazed. It looks so…” you trailed off, trying to find the right words. You hesitated, and recited,

“the bumblebees furrow the pursed and purple lips of false indigo for the dusty blush and I want to go make a hallelujah of my own simple body.”

He pulled back and spun you by your hips to face him. “Was that from a poem?” You smiled and nodded, a little sheepish. “I love it when you quote poetry to me, baby. God, you’re so fucking smart.” He sounded breathless himself.

You grinned. “Does that do it for you, cowboy?”

He pulled you into a searing kiss, right there in his front yard.

“It really does, honey. I love watching you work. I love learning how you think.” You closed your eyes as he kissed your neck. “How do you always know the right poem for the moment? You’re breathtaking. You take my breath away.” He kissed you again.

“Joel,” he hummed in response, kissing you. “Take me inside.” He nodded and kissed you again. “Joel.”

He laughed and pulled back. “Alright, let’s get off the lawn.”

“I do want a garden tour, later. When I can see it.”

He grinned. “Whenever you’d like, gorgeous. And just so you know, I don’t have any of those flowers that make you sneeze.”

You blinked, stunned. “Really? None of them?” He nodded. Wow.

Joel took your hand again and the two of you walked towards his front door, and then through it into his front hall. Just as you’d thought from seeing the outside, the inside was welcoming and warm. You could see that it wasn’t messy, but he hadn’t really tidied — maybe he hadn’t wanted to get his hopes up or assume anything. Sarah’s soccer bag was by the front door, and a pile of shoes teetered by the front closet. As you stepped into the living room you noticed a blanket hastily thrown over the back of the couch. There were some books on the coffee table, as well as a pile of what looked like Sarah’s schoolwork.

The walls were deep, forest green, and the furnishings drew you in like a warm hug. As you peered into the kitchen, you noticed that other than some dishes in the sink, it was pretty neat.

You realized Joel hadn’t followed you and turned to find him watching you explore. He looked worried, but like he was trying to hide it, despite running his hand through his hair and giving himself away.

“It’s lovely, Joel. It feels like—” you cut yourself off, but you could see he wanted to know what you thought. “It feels like a home.”

He smiled and looked down, hand on the back of his neck. “That’s probably Sarah’s influence, not my doing.” You shook your head.

“I don’t believe you. Not now that I know what you’re capable of, with that garden outside.” He smiled as you stepped closer to him.

“Do you want a drink, darlin’?” He placed his hands lightly on your hips and squeezed. You hummed and placed your hands on his chest in response. “I think,” you started, stepping closer to bring your chest in contact with his, sliding your hands around his neck, “that I don’t want a drink.”

He smirked. “No?”

You shook your head. “No. I think—” your mouth was so close to his, almost touching. “I think I’d like—” he leaned closer, but you turned your head so he kissed the corner of your mouth. “A tour.”

It took him a minute to respond. “A tour?”

“Mm-hmm.” You nodded, and hid your smile. “You know, see the rest of your house.” You paused, drawing it out. “Maybe your bedroom.”

You felt him grin against your cheek and he tightened his arms around you. “Oh baby, you only had to ask.” His voice was deep and you could feel it vibrating in your chest.

He spun you around so that you were facing the stairs and started to walk backwards. “Well, here you see the living room. That’s the kitchen,” he nodded in its direction. “The backyard has a bigger garden.” You perked up, but he pulled you in and kept you in front of him. “Later, gorgeous. We’ve got places to be.”

You laughed. “Is “places” your bed?”

He grinned, unrepentantly. “See? My smart girl.” You reacted to that in a way you hadn’t expected, and you knew he could see it. You could almost feel your pulse pick up and your breath hitched. But you had something else on your mind.

“Can I glance at the backyard, Joel?”

He smiled. “Course you can, darlin’.” He changed directions and led you to the sliding glass door at the back of the kitchen instead.

You stood at the door, and Joel turned on the back porch light to let you look. He was right, it was hard to see much outside, but you could tell even then that there were plants growing everywhere. You could see the path that led away from the porch and then split in different directions. Part of you wanted to go outside and explore it, right then, but Joel stepped up behind you and placed his hands on your waist. He kissed your neck and murmured, “I’ll show you everything tomorrow, darlin’. When we can see it.” You nodded and leaned back into him. He ran his lips softly along your jaw before pressing another kiss in front of your ear. In a low, warm voice, he asked, “can I kiss you, gorgeous?”

You smiled. “You are kissing me, Joel.”

He squeezed your hips before turning you and stepping close. “I told you earlier, honey, I’ve been thinking about the way you kissed me in your office. I can’t stop thinking about it.” His right hand came up to touch your face. “The way it felt to have you pressed against me. The soft noises you made when I kissed you right.” He ran his thumb lightly across your lips. “The way you fit just right in my arms.”

“Me too, Joel.” You closed your eyes and saw the moment again. Joel, between your legs as you perched on the desk, driving every thought right out of your mind with his touch. With his lips.

“So honey,” he pressed a gentle kiss to the corner of your mouth. “Can I kiss you again?” You opened your mouth to say yes, but the sound of the ‘y’ was barely out of your mouth before his lips met yours.

You felt him everywhere. His hands held you in place, one at the back of your neck, one curving around to your back. The warmth of him pressed against you, so solid. His kiss grounded you and set you alight.

He started slow, but before long the passion you’d found against your desk returned. You opened your mouth and he took advantage, his tongue teasing along your bottom lip before sweeping inside.

You opened your legs and Joel stepped forward, reaching down to hitch one around his hips, which came forward and nestled right against yours. You sighed into the kiss, and he broke away to press kisses along your jaw and down your neck. “You feel perfect against me, honey,” he murmured, pulling your hips forward against his own. You felt the warm length of his cock through his jeans. “Like you were made to fit in my arms.” You brought your own up and around his neck and buried your hands in his hair, returning his kisses along the collar of his shirt.

“I’ve been thinking about how you pressed me against my desk all week, Joel.” He hummed and tilted his head to give you better access. “Almost did let you get in my pants right there.”

He laughed. “I would’a jumped at the chance, gorgeous. I know I already told you but, well, I’ve had a bit of a crush on you, you know.”

“Oh?” You smiled, and leaned back to rest your head against the glass door, meeting his gaze. His lips were adorably red and a bit swollen, his hair tousled and messy. You liked the look on him.

“Mm-hmm. Couldn’t take my eyes off you that first day, or any day since, if I’m bein’ honest.” He smiled ruefully. “You swept me off my feet, honey.” You bit your lip. He watched.

“In a way, you did the same to me, you know.”

He shook his head. “Baby, we both know you didn’t like me—”

“No, Joel. Even if I was blaming you for whatever had gone wrong that day, I still couldn’t ignore you. I already told you you’re the hottest man I’ve ever seen. I wasn’t lying. And god, I was so mad that you were so hot. Especially after I poured coffee all over myself.” You laughed. “You sure do inspire strong emotions in me, handsome.” He grinned.

“Well, baby, I sure am glad those emotions turned positive.”

“It didn’t take long, Joel. I was avoiding the truth.”

He shrugged. “We still got here.” He squeezed your hips.

“Finally,” you teased. He kissed you in retaliation.

“Speaking of here, Joel, when do I get the rest of my tour?” You pursed your lips against a smile and tried to look serious. He laughed.

“My apologies, darlin’, please follow me. I’ve saved the best for last.” You laughed too, knowing exactly where he was taking you. He guided you towards the stairs and you separated, finally, and followed him up, taking the chance to admire him from behind. It was a nice view.

At the top of the stairs, Joel turned again and took your hand. He stood there and pointed at the doors down the hall, starting with the one at the far end. “That’s Sarah’s room, and her bathroom. That’s the guest room, but really it’s Tommy’s.” He pointed at the one in between Sarah’s and the door you were stopped next to. “And here we are,” he pulled you close and tucked you into his side as he opened that final door. “Last stop on the tour.” He used his grip on your hip to guide you in front of him, and you took in his bedroom.

Your first thought was that it was just like him. A bit messy, but warm. Inviting. Heavy wooden bed, nice furniture, decorations and furnishings that were clearly chosen with purpose — it all fit right into your mental image of Joel. He might not have tidied, but it did look like he’d made up the bed with clean sheets.

“Hmmm,” you let him wait for your answer. “I like it.”

He huffed a laugh and buried his face in your neck again. “Well, ain’t that a relief.” You laughed, too.

Joel stepped closer until he was flush against your back. You leaned into him, closing your eyes and sinking into his warmth and the feel of him. “Can I kiss you, darlin’?” His voice was playful as he asked you again for permission, and you quirked an eyebrow.

He started pressing kisses up your neck and you dropped your head to the right to give him better access. “Hmm, you are kissing me, Joel. You have been.”

He opened his mouth and ran his teeth down your neck before closing them and worrying a mark at the edge of your shoulder. You sighed and let him take your weight, leaning back into him fully. “Can I kiss you everywhere, baby?” As he asked, he slid his left hand down over your stomach until it rested right above your core. He flattened his hand and pressed down as he pressed another kiss below your ear. “Can I kiss you right here?”

You felt suddenly like you were on fire. A sharp tingle ran up your spine and over your scalp as you gasped. Your hands moved without your conscious input until they were clutching at the arm he still had wrapped around your waist. You couldn’t find your words, but you opened your legs wider, and you felt him grin against your neck.

“Oh, does my pretty girl like that?” A breathy, high pitched sigh escaped you as he started moving his hand lower. “Hmm, I think you like that. ” He kissed your neck as his hand moved down to cup your pussy lightly. “Which part is it that you like, baby? Is it that I think you’re pretty?” You did like that, but that wasn’t it and he could tell. “But you knew that already. Is it that I called you mine?” Your breath hitched again and you tilted your hips up to give him better access. He tightened his grip. “That’s my good girl.” You reacted before you consciously recognized his words, a soft moan slipping between your lips. You felt Joel grin into your neck.

“I gotta ask you again, baby. Can I kiss you? Right here?” He squeezed his left hand over your pussy and you sucked in a breath. “What was it you said outside… ‘make a hallelujah of my body.’ Let me do that for you, baby. Can I give you my mouth? Let me see how pretty you are when you come, honey. Can I?”

His words shook you into motion, and you nodded, finally. “Yes, Joel.” You couldn’t believe he remembered what you’d said. Your voice was breathy and you could hear your own arousal taking over. “Please.”

“Shh, honey, I got you.” he slid his hand back up to your hip, and you almost protested before he started to guide you forward. “I’ll give you everything you want.” He turned you and guided you down to sit on the edge of his bed before kneeling in front of you. Your eyes tracked him the whole way down.

Joel placed his hands on your knees and you watched as he slowly slid them up your thighs, skirting around where you wanted them most before coming to rest at the waistband of your pants. You sighed and he pulled lightly on the waistband before undoing the button, urging you to move your hips forward towards the edge of the bed. He murmured, “c’mere, honey.” His voice was somehow even deeper than before, rumbling gently over you. Your eyes fluttered shut.

He tugged your pants down gently, taking your underwear with them. You fought the urge to close your legs against his scrutiny, but as quick as they were gone his hands returned and held your thighs apart. You opened your eyes, not wanting to miss a minute of him between your knees.

“Let me see that pretty pussy, honey. Been dying to set my eyes on every inch of you. Was torture, feeling how warm and wet you were even through your pants, back at the bar.” His words made your cheeks burn, but you stopped yourself from pulling away and opened your thighs, letting them fall to either side. His eyes immediately locked on what you revealed to him. He quirked that half smile that had caught your eye from the very beginning.

“Gorgeous,” he murmured, and scooted closer. He leaned forward, and you felt his breath against your inner thighs. It made you shiver. “I can’t wait to taste you, honey. I know you’re going to be sweet.” He pressed a kiss to your inner thigh. Your breath hitched. “And juicy.” He grinned.

You laughed. “Been wet down there for a while, I know you know that.”

“Well, darlin’, don’t leave me hanging. How long is a while?” He brought one of his hands forward and teased lightly along your slit with his fingers. You squirmed.

“Since, ah,” you sighed as he pressed a kiss right above your pussy. “Since you kissed me in my kitchen. And then, well, you kept touching me. And dancing, and then on your lap—” You cut yourself off.

He caught your eye again, and his eyes were dark. “Baby, you been wet all night? Just like this?” You nodded, biting your lip. “Should’a told me. I’m not the kind of man that leaves a woman waiting.” He splayed his hands on your hips and moved his thumbs down to rest gently on each of your lips.

You sucked in a breath. “Oh?”

Joel nodded, and grinned. His expression was all lust and mischief. “Goes against my principles.” You laughed. He was cute like this, talkative and dirty. You had no idea he’d be so talkative in bed, but you loved it.

He pressed down with each thumb and opened your pussy to his gaze. Suddenly you were overwhelmed – sitting there, legs splayed open to him, with his thumbs spreading your pussy wide was so much. It was heady and the air roiled around you, thick with arousal. It almost made your eyes roll back in your head.

“Joel--“ you started, but he didn’t let you finish.

“You just sit back and let me take care of you, honey.” He leaned close and you could feel his breath against your entrance. “You’re all messy down here. Be a good girl for me and let me clean you up, alright?” You moaned and fell back on the bed as his mouth finally made contact where you wanted it the most.

You’d been trembling since his thumbs had opened you up to him. You felt his hot breath first, and then his tongue, pressed firmly against you as he licked you in a stripe up your pussy, ending at your clit. You gasped and clenched the comforter in your fists. He held you firmly in place as you squirmed, hands pressing on your hips and holding you open. Before you could catch your breath he did it again, the flat of his tongue lapping at you from your entrance. His mouth reached your clit again and he teased the tip of his tongue in a circle around it. The sensation sent vibrations through you as you thrust your hips towards his face.

He hummed into you. “You taste so good, honey.” His voice was low, almost a growl. “Don’t know how I’ll ever get enough.” He started circling your clit lightly with his tongue and you heard a high-pitched whine erupt from you. He chuckled darkly without moving his mouth away from you.

You felt like you’d had the wind knocked out of you at the first touch of his tongue. You felt exposed, but somehow in a good way. You looked down and watched his head bobbing as he worked you over, your whole body shaking in response.

His eyes were closed and the look on his face was pure bliss.

“Oh my god, Joel, I—” You gasped as he moved down to tease your entrance with his tongue. “Fuck.” He pressed lightly around it in circles before pressing down with just the tip. You held your breath and you swore you could feel him smile as he pressed it inside you. You let out something that sounded suspiciously like a sob.

Joel’s tongue pushed all the way inside you and he closed his mouth over your hole and kissed you, just like he’d promised. His mouth felt just as amazing there as it did everywhere else. He sucked lightly and your muscles loosened like they were jelly. You felt waves of pure pleasure crash over you, tingling over your scalp and down your back in time with the thrusts of his tongue. He curved his tongue upwards and hummed and you almost clenched your knees around his head, pure reflex — you would have, if his hands weren’t still pinning you in place. Right where he wanted you.

He moved his hands for the first time and his left came over your hips, his forearm like a bar holding you down. His right moved down and you shook with the knowledge of its destination. His tongue slipped from you slowly, and you almost protested, but before you could, his tongue moved smoothly back up to your clit and his fingers took its place. You felt him touch you in two places — his tongue, lightly curling around your clit before pressing down with delicious pressure, and his finger, rubbing lightly at your entrance, teasing around it in a circle. You heaved in a breath as you forced yourself to let go of the comforter with your right hand. It had almost cramped, and you shook it out, laughing at yourself. Hand now free, you ran your fingers through his hair. He hummed and tilted his head — you took the invitation and clutched at his hair tightly.

Joel’s mouth broke you apart expertly. His tongue played your clit like he knew exactly what you liked. His finger teased at your entrance before pushing in slowly, so slowly you couldn’t help but feel every single millimeter. He curled it upwards and touched a part of you that sent sensations radiating up your torso and down your legs, little lightning strikes that took what remained of your breath away. You could hardly focus on anything but the pleasure that was building steadily all through your body, pooling in your hips and spreading upwards until you were breathing it in.

Joel slid his finger out but quickly replaced it with two. The stretch was delicious. In some distant, still lucid part of your brain, you wondered how big his cock would feel if his fingers felt like this. When he curled the two of them together your back arched off the bed as you moaned, but he held you firmly in place with his forearm across your hips. His mouth didn’t move back even an inch.

You felt like you were slipping downwards into the heat of his mouth and the steady thrusts of his fingers, suddenly teetering on the precipice, ready to fall apart. “Joel, I—” you gasped in a breath. “I’m close, Joel, fuck—” He pressed closer, tongue pressing firmly on your clit, lips closing around it to lightly suck. At the same time his fingers thrust inside you and curled right into the spot that felt like heaven, like he was pressed against the deepest part of you, reaching inside of you and touching every part of you. And you fell over the edge.

It felt like falling. Like you slipped from a great height, a swooping sensation low in your stomach. Your body curved upwards even as you felt heavy, suddenly dizzy as you spun in place. It came over you like lightning, like electricity running from the tip of your head to the bottom of your feet, like it was scouring your veins and leaving nothing but pleasure behind.

You heard yourself breathing heavily like you’d just run a marathon. You felt emptied, empty of everything but pleasure and heat and the feel of Joel’s mouth, open against your clit. He worked you through it, tonguing at you lightly, guiding you back to yourself from the heights he’d expertly ushered you towards only moments before.

You were stunned. You couldn’t move your arms or legs, could only breathe, your chest heaving. Your eyes were wide and staring up at the ceiling. It distantly occurred to you that the feeling was becoming too much. “J—” you tried, and failed. You sucked in a breath and tried again. “Joel, sto—” somehow, he got the message and lifted his face from you. His fingers stilled.

He was breathing heavily too, you could feel it against your thighs. You took a deep breath and lifted your head to look for him.

He was waiting for you. Joel’s eyes met yours and you couldn’t look away. He looked wrecked. His face was red and he was absolutely covered in you. You could see it, glistening on his skin.

He was smiling.

“You’re so beautiful when you come, baby.” His voice was breathless, but still deep. You realized idly that you were still wearing your top and you almost couldn’t believe it. You felt like he’d stripped you bare and turned the whole of you inside out with his mouth. And he was somehow still fully clothed himself. “Can’t believe how good it felt, the way you came apart on my tongue.” He licked his bottom lip and you watched, tracking it. He brought one of his hands up to his face and wiped down his cheeks, thumb on one side and fingers on the other. He was still a mess, after, but he looked down at his hand and then met your eyes again and smirked. He brought it up to his mouth and licked, slowly cleaning up what you’d left behind.

Your mouth fell open, watching him. You felt your arousal building again. Your legs twitched.

When he was finished you looked back up to meet his eyes and found him watching you watch him. His eyes were dark and intent.

“That’s one, baby.”

You blinked, taking in his words. “One?” You felt like you could barely think, still reeling from the power of the orgasm he pulled from you and the sight of him reveling in it afterwards.

“That’s right,” he answered, finally leaning back and sitting on his heels. He winked at you. “You think I could be happy with just one, after seeing the way you just fell apart for me? No,” he chuckled, and rose slowly to his feet. It felt obscene, having him standing over you fully clothed while you laid there, legs splayed open for him, chest heaving. More obscene than anything else you’d done tonight, and he wasn’t even touching you. “One just isn’t enough. I need to see it again. Need to watch. Been thinking about it, imagining it.” He started undoing the buttons of his shirt and you finally gathered the strength to sit up, your hands flying forward to stop him. You met his eyes as you pushed his hands out of the way to take over and undo his buttons yourself. He nodded and you held his gaze as you undid the last button. He shrugged out of the shirt and let it fall to the floor behind him. “I need to see it up close, honey.”

Your hands came to rest lightly on his chest and your eyes followed. Joel might call you gorgeous, but looking at him took your breath away. He was strong, built, even if not overly defined. You could see the strength in his body, in his arms, strength that was earned from his job and from being a dad. You wanted him to touch you again. Right as you thought it, like he could see inside your mind, his right hand came up and lifted your chin. You could feel the lingering moisture from being inside you on his fingers.

“Hello, gorgeous.” He smiled at you. “Think you should take off that shirt, baby.” You smiled back.

“Only if you take off these pants.” You slid your hand down to press against the front of his jeans. Joel’s hips stuttered forward at your touch and you grinned. He took a step back, letting his hand fall away toward his own waist band. He nodded at your shirt and you raised your hands, too. You slid your shirt upwards at the same moment he unbuttoned his pants, revealing his cock to your eyes for the first time. It stood hard and proud against his stomach. It was big. You felt your eyes widen at the sight, and you reached a hand out without thinking. He stepped forward to meet it.

You didn’t put your hand around him, but rather ran your fingertips down the length of his cock, from tip to root. He grabbed your wrist and held your hand still, grunting. Your eyes flew back up to meet his own and you suddenly realized you were panting, mouth dropped open.

“Not yet, baby.” Joel took a deep breath. “Will you let me give you another one? I want to watch you come again, gorgeous, want to see it up close this time.” He eased you back onto the bed and slowly crawled over you, until he was hovering above you, hands next to your head. When he paused there you realized he was waiting for your answer. You smiled.

“You’d better.”

He laughed. “Oh yeah? Is that how it is?” You grinned and nodded. He eyed you, eyes dark with desire. “M’gonna wipe that grin off your face, beautiful. I’m gonna make you come so hard you can’t say anything but my name, can only feel me inside you. Nothing else.” You licked your bottom lip, his words holding you in place under his gaze. “Gotta watch it on your face this time.” He leaned down and pressed a kiss to your lips, almost gentle. “Wanna see it in your eyes. Can you keep ‘em open for me, honey? Be my good girl, let me see you?” You nodded, speechless, and he grinned. “Yeah, of course you can. I knew you’d be so good for me.”

Joel finally brought his mouth down again and this time it wasn’t gentle. His tongue swept inside and tangled with yours, and your hands flew up to tangle in his hair, to hold him there. You could taste yourself on his tongue; you whimpered into his mouth. He licked the sound from you and claimed it as his own.

You were already spinning in circles, dazed by his kiss, when he lifted his right hand and started to tease his fingers down your collarbone. The gentle sensation contrasted amazingly with the hungry way he devoured your mouth and you squirmed. He sank his teeth into your bottom lip before pulling away to press hot kisses down your cheek to your neck, where he worried another mark with his teeth.

“You know, darlin’,” he murmured into your neck, voice deep. “I didn’t get a chance to say how much I like, no, love your tits.” He slid his right hand down to cup your right breast and you pushed your chest into his hand. He smiled against your neck. “Jesus, you’re perfect. Perfect pussy, perfect tits, perfect orgasm, perfect everything.” He kissed you again. “Don’t think I’ll ever get enough of this. How could I, hmm?” He bit down on your shoulder and you moaned. “’S impossible. Sweet as honey, you know. Sweet, and gorgeous, and sexy, and so fucking smart,” he left a trail of soft kisses down your chest as he praised you and your head was spinning with it. He pressed his forehead to your chest, mouth resting right against your breast as he spoke. “My good girl.” You trembled, chest heaving. Almost broken apart again just by his voice, his words. “So fucking good for me.”

Joel pressed his lips to your breast and then moved his mouth to your nipple. He teased it with his tongue. “Mm, Joel—” you wanted to try to return his words, to tell him how you felt the same way. He was so much, he was everything. “I—” your breath hitched again as he worried your nipple with his teeth. “You—” you couldn’t get a sentence out. Couldn’t put it together to begin with. You sighed.

“I’ve never felt like this before, Joel.” Your voice was breathy but strong. Joel picked his head up to look at you again and you reached out to cup his cheek. “You’re so… Joel. No one has ever made me feel this good. I feel— You’re—” you bit your lip. You felt dangerously close to saying something it was way too early to say, even as you felt yourself falling towards it. You lightened your tone. “You’ll never get rid of me now.” You smiled, but his face was serious.

“Baby, I’d never want to. I want you here,” he pressed his hand into your chest. “Right here. Under me, over me, with me—” he cut himself off and took a deep breath. “I want you right where you are, honey.” You wondered if you were both holding back from saying anything that was too much, too soon for your first date. Your first date, you reminded yourself sternly. You were feeling a lot for this man, sure, but you knew you had time to get where you were headed. You had time. You smiled, and cupped his face in both hands.

“Under you, huh?”

He raised an eyebrow at you. “What?”

You focused and moved your hands to tangle your fingers in his hair, guiding his mouth back to your chest. “Under him” had reminded you, and your voice was breathy as you recited,

"i like my body when it is with your body. It is so quite new a thing. Muscles better and nerves more. i like your body. i like what it does, i like its hows. i like to feel the spine of your body and its bones, and the trembling -firm-smooth ness and which i will again and again and again kiss,"

Your breath hitched on the word “kiss”, interrupting you, as Joel suddenly dropped his forehead to rest against your sternum. He cursed, voice low. “Fuck.” You could see and feel him trembling. You gathered yourself and continued,

"i like kissing this and that of you, i like, slowly stroking the, shocking fuzz of your electric fur, and what-is-it comes over parting flesh… And eyes big love-crumbs,

and possibly i like the thrill

of under me you so quite new..."

You trailed off as Joel cursed again. “Fuck, baby. That’s a poem?” You grinned.

“It is.” You felt yourself breathing a bit hard, like you’d just sprinted towards him. “Did you like it?”

Joel finally lifted his head and you saw that he was wrecked. His pupils were huge, his hair everywhere from tangling between your fingers. He was breathing hard and fast. “Did I like it?” he asked, voice absolutely incredulous. He surged forward to capture your mouth in a searing kiss.

By the time he released you every thought had fled your mind, and all you knew was his mouth on yours. “Baby, I can’t believe how goddamn lucky I am. Shit.” He drew in a shuddering breath. “I do like kissing this and that of you,” he repeated your words back to you, voice deep. “I do like the thrill of you, right here.” He pressed a quick kiss to your sternum, right in between your breasts.

You reached out to cup his face in your hands again. “You have me Joel. Now, I believe you promised me something.”

He grinned. “That I did, gorgeous.” He turned his face to kiss both of your palms one after another, before ducking back down to pick up right where he left off. He licked at your left nipple and tweaked the other with his right thumb. You smiled, sinking back into the tide of pleasure he drew over you so easily, so expertly.

As his tongue continued to work, he leaned to the left and slipped his right hand down your chest. His fingertips played over your breast and your stomach and your hip, coming to rest right above where he’d kissed you only moments ago. You twisted both hands in his hair. “Yes, Joel.” You urged him onward, spreading your legs to give him better access. You felt him smile against your chest.

His fingertips moved lower, brushing against your slit gently. “How are we feeling down here, honey? Sensitive?” He pressed his fingertips lightly between your folds, gently touching your clit.

You were a little sensitive, sure, but not in a bad way. You told him so. “Feels good, Joel.”

He hummed. “Feels wet, honey. Is this pussy always like this?” He swiped his finger gently from your clit to your entrance, and you felt the glide of how wet you were.

You shook your head. “’S just for you, Joel.” You breathed it, almost whispered it, and he pressed a kiss to your right breast in response.

“Well, I do like the sound of that.” He used two fingers to press more firmly against your entrance. “I like your body, ‘n what it does.” You could hear the smile in his voice as he repeated the line back to you. He kissed his way back up your torso as he slowly pressed in with his fingers, but stopped with just the tips inside of you, just past your entrance. He pressed his mouth to your neck again. “So responsive, so good. All for me.” He nipped at your jaw as he pressed his fingers just a bit further inside, teasing you. You squirmed, trying to thrust forward on them, but he held them in place.

“How wet do you think we can get you, honey?” He pressed in further, but then withdrew again so just the tips were inside again. You protested, wordlessly. He soothed you with a kiss to your cheek. “I want you to soak my cock. I want you so wet that when I slip inside it’s smooth like silk.” You gasped as his fingers slid inside you again, further this time, but he withdrew them again. He was teasing you and holding you right at the edge, not quite letting you relax into it. It was just on the right side of too much. “So beautiful, baby, the way you want these fingers inside of you. Is this what you need, honey?” You nodded as he slipped the two fingers back inside of you. He stayed there, this time, and curled them upwards. You gasped. “Yeah, you need it. Need these fingers to open you up, hmm? Need to get you ready to take this cock.” He thrust his hips against your leg, and you felt it, warm and heavy and ready for you.

“I need it,” you agreed, voice thin. He withdrew his fingers again and you started to say no, stop, wait, anything, but before you could even shape your mouth around the words he plunged them back into you, deep. So fucking deep, it felt perfect. His fingers filled you again and you imagined how his cock would feel and you moaned.

“That’s right, honey.” You opened your eyes to find him watching you, intent. “You’re taking my fingers so well, so easy. Like every part of me was meant to be inside you.” He kissed you, quick. “My tongue, my fingers. My cock.” He twisted his fingers inside you, starting to thrust, ending each one with a curl, touching that spot that you felt echo through your body like a lightning bolt. “I want to make you feel so good, honey. Want to be inside of you, want to touch you everywhere. Want my mouth on every inch of you.” He brought his thumb to your clit, pressing gently in small circles in time with his thrusts and the combination brought your impending orgasm much closer, suddenly, much higher. Suddenly desperate, you reached up to bring his mouth to yours. His wicked mouth, with these words that were causing every thought to fall right out of your head.

Joel took his cue from you and captured your mouth as his hand worked you higher and higher. You felt seconds away from another precipice and it almost took you by surprise when you launched over it, thrown into an orgasm in the palm of his hand. It washed over you, sinking you beneath its waves, drawing you under into a brief oblivion. You blinked and realized Joel was speaking lowly into your ear, “—at’s it, honey, just beautiful. God, you’re so fucking gorgeous when you come. So perfect. So good for me, honey. So fucking good. Can’t wait to sink my cock inside you, to feel how warm and wet and perfect you are inside. Don’t know how I go so lucky, but I’m going to make you feel so fucking good. Gonna be so good to you, sweetheart.”

As you caught your breath, chest heaving, you breathed, “you’re pretty good at this, cowboy.”

He met your eye and raised an eyebrow. “Cowboy, huh? Is that the one”

You shrugged. “Yeah. D’you like it?”

“Like it?” The grin that took over his mouth was slow and beautiful. “Honey, I want you to call me whatever you want.” He cupped your face in his hand, brushing his thumb along your cheekbone. “But I don’t just like it. I love it.”

You grinned back at him, turning to nip at his thumb, and he laughed. “Ok, cowboy.” He thrust his hips down and you felt his cock, still hard, as it pushed against your hip. “About time we took care of you, now, yeah?” You kissed his palm and met his eye. He smiled.

“You think I ain’t been enjoying myself? Almost came, watching you fall apart on my fingers, you know.” You smiled back at him. “Been thinking about this, since that time in your office. How good it would feel to have you under me. Been dreaming about this pussy.” You gasped as he shifted his hips to the right and nudged lightly at your slit with his cock.

“M— me, too, Joel,” you sighed. “Your cock felt so good against me in my office, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Wanting it.”

“Sweetheart, you can have this cock whenever you want. It’s yours.” He thrust against you again, and the head of his cock brushed up your slit again, not quite nudging inside. You moaned. “Nowhere else it wants to be, except inside you. Shit.” He muttered the last word as the tip of his cock breached your folds, tapping lightly against your clit. Your mouth fell open and you tried to open your legs for him, but he was straddling you, keeping you from giving him any more room. “Shit, honey, you feel that?” He nudged forward, and the head of his cock nudged against your clit again. You keened. “Yeah, you do. Fuck.” He moved his hips lightly back and forth, barely any distance at all, but it felt like more as the hard head of his cock pressed repeatedly against your clit. You were so sensitive, but he was being so careful, so soft. “How is this already so fucking good?” He whispered the question, but you felt it too.

He hovered there for what felt like hours. It was working you up, this slow, soft touch, this barely there connection. His warm cock, not even all the way inside your folds, not even inside you, just nudging you, stoking your fire. “Shit,” you breathed. “Joel, I—” you opened your eyes, not realizing you’d closed them, to find him holding himself up with his face right above yours. Your mouth was hanging open.

“Mmm, honey,” he answered, watching you. “You look gorgeous like this.” He nudged forward again, and you sighed. “Can’t believe how good you feel under me, how pretty you are, how amazing—” he thrust forward again and you both moaned. You were panting. “I think we need to get a condom, baby, before we get carried away.” He winked at you as he said it and you managed a laugh.

“I’m on birth control, Joel.” His hips stuttered forward.

“Shit, you mean—” you nodded and he froze, before pressing down to kiss you deeply. The head of his cock rested against your clit and was squeezed between you as his weight bore down. You opened your mouth and he licked inside, frantic. “Fuck, yes, ok. Fuck. It’s been… well, ages since I've had any sex, darlin’, and even longer since I had it bare.”

You shivered. “Me too, Joel.” He nodded and lifted himself back up.

You bit your lip, looking up at him. He watched, tracing your lips with his thumb, eyes traveling over your face. He opened his mouth to say something (something absolutely devastatingly hot, if recent evidence was any guide), but you didn’t let him say it. You shoved, suddenly, at his chest, and the surprised look on his face made you grin. You followed through and pushed him over, turning him so you landed on top, straddling his hips this time. He froze for a moment, lying on his back, stunned. You were looking down at him, grinning triumphantly, and so you watched his face change from shock to viciously turned on. “You’re so fucking hot, honey, fuck.”

He reached out to grasp your hips and squeezed, pulling you down to sit firmly on top of him. He pulled you down right on his cock, and you threw your head back. “Mmm, Joel,” you murmured as your pussy slid right over his hard cock.

“Yeah? Feel good, baby?” He urged your hips forward and back, sliding you over his length. “You feel amazing on my cock, just like I knew you would. So warm and soft and wet.” He sighed and thrust his hips upwards. “You want to sit on it, honey? Take me inside? Let me open you up? Let me fill you up with this cock? Gonna fit so nice in there, honey, so tight. A perfect fit.” His words were washing over you again, so heady, so dirty.

You didn’t know if you’d have pegged Joel as a dirty talker before this date but fuck, you couldn’t imagine him any other way, now. He was so fucking good at it.

“Yes, Joel,” you breathed. “Please, I wanna sit on it.”

He smiled at you and squeezed your hips as he tugged you down again. You felt his cock slide deeper against you, head nudging at your clit like it had been just a moment before, only now his entire length nestled right inside your folds. It was perfect. “Shh, honey, I’ll give it to you. I’ll give you whatever you want.”

He urged your hips upwards with his hands, and you followed, lifting yourself up. You gasped as you felt the tip of his cock move down through your folds, almost where you wanted it. You looked down and met his eyes again. His mouth was open, watching you, as he shifted your hips forward just a bit. It was just enough to align his cock perfectly as it slid lower and lower until it notched, like a key into a lock, right at your entrance. Your breath caught.

“Look at you,” Joel murmured. He held you up, right over his cock, about to sink down. “So fucking gorgeous.” He loosened his grip suddenly and your hips slid down before you could catch yourself, sliding the tip of his cock just inside of you. You released your breath on a sigh. “Fuck”, the word erupted from him. “Goddamn, honey. You’re pressing on me so tight,” his tongue slid along his lower lip as he loosened his grip again, letting you slip down just a little further. The head of his cock suddenly fully inside of you, so wide, so hot, it made your head spin.

“Joel—”

“Yeah, sweetheart. Let me in. Open up for me, baby, just like that. Fuck.” And inch by inch, that’s what you did — your legs were trembling, and his hands held you up and let you slide down, bit by bit, splitting you open, until your pussy came flush with his pelvis. “Shit, you’re taking me so well, honey.” You sat there, chest heaving, feeling every inch of him inside of you, warm and hard and just fucking right. You’d never felt so full in your goddamn life. “Good fucking girl, sitting on this cock. Look so pretty up there. So sexy.” You smiled, and shifted your hips just slightly. You both moaned. “Can’t believe how good your cunt feels, honey. Like it was made for this cock.” You hummed at the idea. You liked it.

You slid your hands forward on Joel’s chest until they were resting under his collarbones, and used the leverage to lift your hips, just a bit. Your mouth fell open at the feeling and your eyes locked with his. “Fuck yeah, baby, take what you want.” He watched as you did just that, lifting yourself up until just the head of his cock was inside you, and then sinking back down to take him fully. You stopped for just a moment, looking at each other, before your breath hitched and you did it again. And again. And again.

Joel groaned, and released the grip of his right hand on your hip to move it to the back of your neck. “C’mere, gorgeous,” he muttered, pulling you down into a searing kiss. You gasped into it, and he took the opportunity to sink his tongue into your mouth again. His left hand urged you to keep up the movement of your hips, drawing his cock in and out of you. Your legs shook and felt like jelly, though, and suddenly you sank against his chest. “Mm, tired, honey?” You laughed, and buried your face in his neck. He rubbed his hands up and down your back. “Why don’t you let me take over from here?”

With no other warning, Joel flipped you, cock sliding out of you as he arranged you underneath him, and then immediately sliding back inside of you as he held your legs open. You gasped. “Shit,” he whispered, “that’s it.” Joel started to roll his hips, thrusting his cock inside of you, and you sank your hands into his hair as you pulled him back into a kiss. He reached down and tilted your hips upwards, and the new angle had his cock hitting something deep inside you that made you whine in response.

“Yeah, honey, that’s it.” He repeated, striking a rhythm that sent you spiraling, moaning his name. “Give me one more. That’s my good girl, yeah? Give me one more.” You shook your head, not sure you could, even though his cock felt so good inside of you, but he pressed a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth. “I know you can do it, sweetheart. My good girl can do it, can’t she? So good for me, honey.” His pace was relentless, working you over, and then he reached his right hand down in between you to gently rub at your clit, matching the same rhythm as his thrusts.

You sobbed out your next breath, and he pressed gentle kisses across your cheek.

“That’s right, my gorgeous girl, you can do it. Let me have it. Let me see it again.” He breathed his praises into your neck and the competing sensations of the softness with his mouth and the absolutely devastating way he was fucking you overwhelmed your senses. “C’mon. Do it for me.”

And you did – one more time, one more orgasm ripped through your senses and crashed into you. You sobbed his name, one single, resounding, “Joel,” as you came. He groaned, and his hips stuttered.

“Fuck, sweetheart.” His rhythm picked up, and you knew he was close. “So fucking beautiful when you come, fuck. You feel so fucking perfect. So hot so tight so wet I’m gonna— shit, I’m gonna—” And it was your turn to watch him come, to watch the pleasure wash over him as he emptied inside of you. His face was beautiful as his mouth formed the shape of your name, whispering it reverently as he came. You blinked, watching it, unable to look away.

Joel’s hips stilled, and his forehead came down slowly to rest against your own. You were both breathing heavily, chests touching every time you breathed in, nipples brushing against his chest sending daggers of sensation through you. You were exhausted, and spent, and worn out, and happier than you could remember being in a long time. You could feel him everywhere, feel the joy everywhere, down to your toes.

Joel breathed deeply and then murmured, low and sweet, “honey, you are so fucking amazing.” He kissed your cheek. “Can’t believe I caught your eye, somehow. Can’t believe you’re here with me.”

You smiled, but laughed. “Can’t believe it?” You tilted your hips a bit and you both gasped at the sensation of him moving inside of you, no longer hard but still very much present.

He chuckled. “‘M trying to say sweet things to you, you little troublemaker.” You hummed. “Trying to tell you that’s the best night I’ve ever had, no contest. To tell you I can’t wait to take you on another date, and ten more after that. A hundred.” He kissed you right at the corner of your eye, and then on your nose, which made you laugh again. “To beg you to stay the night, because all I want is to hold you in my arms as long as I can.”

You cleared your throat, overwhelmed. “Those are, um, those are pretty sweet things, Joel.” He pressed his smile into your cheek again. You wanted to reciprocate but he had fucked all of your thoughts right out of your head, so you settled for agreement. “I’m not going anywhere, cowboy. You’ll have to kick me out.” He grinned and pressed another soft kiss to the corner of your mouth.

…

you (1:17 AM): staying the night 😇

bestie (1:18 AM): !!! (1:18 AM): text me when you wake up or else (1:18 AM): and tell me all about it tomorrow (1:19 AM): and by it I mean 🍆

you (1:19 AM): i will 🙄

...

a/n: see you next Friday 🥰 Poems quoted in this chapter:

From Ross Gay’s Spring section of “Letters from Two Gardens”: https://orionmagazine.org/article/letters-from-two-gardens/ From e. e. cummings: https://allpoetry.com/i-like-my-body-when-it-is-with-your

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its-time-to-write · 7 months

Note

how about a Jamie x reader fic when they go away to Amsterdam they sit together on bus and they wake up cuddling and then there’s an issue w hotel booking and there’s a one bed trope and they end up waking up cuddled together and then they admit feelings and reader goes to game with a tartt jersey on <3

I’ve been thinking about this forever, and I’m terribly sorry it took so long!! I do enjoy being an adult, but I’m at a point in life where I don’t have much free time and if I do, I use it to sleep😂

I really miss the days when Ted Lasso was still airing and the x reader tags had new content every day. I feel like that one meme of Thanos when he’s like “Fine. I’ll do it myself.” Shoutout to all y’all who are still here and reading my stuff! Love you!!

smile at me

It’s straight-up fucked. It really, really is. But also maybe it’s good, as Keeley pointed out, because not having a boyfriend anymore means you can focus on yourself?

Or something.

Of course he had to break up with you right before leaving for Amsterdam. Hell, he broke up with you because you were leaving for Amsterdam.

“I don’t want you going to another country with a bunch of other guys,” he had said. “It’s them or me.”

“It’s literally my job,” you told him.

Apparently, that didn’t matter.

But what-fucking-ever, you’re at Keeley’s waiting for a car to take you to the airport, and she’s promised to make sure you don’t think about your stupid ex even once.

It’s times like these you wish Ted were still here with a spot-on pun and some dad-type advice. All you ever get from Beard is a weird anecdote and a vaguely threatening look.

Keeley chatters on for the entirety of the ride to the airport, through customs, and all the way to the lounge.

“You’re gonna get loads of great content for the socials, babe. Candids, action shots, behind-the-scenes. Friendlies are fucking amazing!”

Last time Richmond were in Amsterdam, they had lost horribly. They’re hoping to make up for it this time around.

The plane is full of Greyhounds, both footballers and coaches alike, with Rebecca at the very front. Keeley plops done in the seat next to her as Dani waves at you from the middle.

“I saved you a seat!” he calls. You smile as Sam takes your bag to put it in the overhead. “Thanks, Dani. You excited?”

Dani grins. “I think this time I am ready to see a whole field of tulips!”

You laugh as the lads roll their eyes. Jamie leans across the aisle toward you and says, “Oi, what’s the twat doing while you’re away?”

You press your lips into a thin line. “Not a clue.”

He raises an eyebrow and says, “You break up with him?”

“He broke up with me.”

Jamie twists his face into a scoff. “And you wonder why I call him the fucking twat. Prick. Bet it was so he could finally fuck his coworker.”

You shrug. Jamie’s never liked your boyfriend. It’s not like you were together long, only a few months. And sure, he was a little bit of a twat, but sue you. You had a special place in your heart for pricks with a heart of gold, only he didn’t even have a heart at all.

“You should date someone better,” Jamie continues.

You glare at him and retort, “Oh yeah, because it’s just that easy. You got some one in mind?”

Jamie gives you his most angelic look and says, “What about me?” which makes half the plane dissolve into laughter, yourself included.

“Cheers, Jamie,” you say as you wipe your eyes. “I needed that.”

A strange look crosses his face, but it’s quickly replaced by his usual cocky expression. “Anytime, love,” he replies as you turn to start a conversation with Dani.

As much as you’d like that, Jamie would never date you. His joke stings a little but you brush it off. Maybe you’ll find another twat in Amsterdam to distract yourself from the fact that you’re half in love with Jamie Tartt.

—

“I’m sorry, we don’t have a booking under you name,” the hotel concierge says.

You tap your nails to your wrist. “Are you positive? I’m with AFC Richmond, they should’ve had one.”

The concierge taps on his computer for a moment before shaking his head. “No, I’m afraid we don’t have anything. And all of our rooms are booked this weekend. Might I recommend the hotel down the road?”

Damn it. There’s no way this is happening. Everyone else has gotten to their rooms without a hitch and here you are, alone in the lobby as you pull out your phone to call Keeley. There’s no way this is fucking happening.

“Everything alright?” asks a voice behind you, and you jump.

“They don’t have a room for me, and they’re fully booked,” you explain.

Jamie looks at the concierge, who shrugs apologetically, then back to you. He asks, “Why don’t you share with me?” and you frown.

“I thought you were rooming with Declan,” you say.

Jamie lifts a shoulder. “Yeah, but he switched with Richard because O’Brien fucking snores and he don’t give a shit.”

You say, “So you’re with Richard, then,” and he shakes his head.

“Nah, Richard’s with Jan.”

“I thought Dani was with Jan,” you say. These fucking footballers. What’s the point in having set rooms if they’re just going to switch it all up.

“Dani is with Jan,” Jamie says patiently, as if this all the most obvious thing in the world. “But Dani’s a cuddler, so he’s probably going to fucking end up with, I don’t know, Isaac or someone. Which means I get a room all to meself.”

“Right,” you say slowly. “Alright, I can do that. As long as you don’t mind.”

Jamie winks. “Sharing a room with a pretty girl for four days? Ain’t a problem, love.”

You laugh and follow him to the elevator.

—

It feels a bit like playing with fire, agreeing to room with Jamie. Especially since you’re freshly single and definitely open to a rebound. But there will be two beds and a lot of space and anyway, you’ll be busy with the match and social media, respectively.

Except as soon as you walk through the door, you realize there’s a tiny little hitch.

“There’s one bed,” you blurt out, so surprised you’re unable to filter your words. Jamie blushes a little bit as he says, “Yeah, um, Cockburn and I hate sleeping alone, so we asked for one. He grew up sharing a bed with his brothers and I just fucking hate being alone. I can sleep on the couch if you want.”

“No,” you say firmly, “you need good rest. It’s not a problem.”

It’s not a problem.

Or at least it wouldn’t have been if Isaac had been a shittier captain.

But as it is he’s great, so he’s got the whole team going out to dinner at a pre-determined location complete with a dress code of no t-shirts and apparently you count as part of the team, so you have to go too. You’re in your massive bathroom trying to curl your disgusting travel hair when Jamie walks in wearing one of those white hotel bathrobes.

He asks, “You mind if I’m in here?” so you shake your head, struck temporarily mute by his bare clavicle. Fucking hell, you feel like a repressed Victorian woman.

Jamie says, “Mint,” and goes about his alarmingly detailed skincare routine. You’re pretty sure you’re done with your hair so you crane your neck in an attempt to check the back.

“Missed a spot,” Jamie says. “Want me to get it for you?”

You shoot him a dubious look but hand him the curler. He runs a hand through your hair, picking up the offending strand and it’s all you can do not to shiver.

“Mum taught me,” he explains and you nod ever so slightly, not wanting him to accidentally burn your neck. Jamie says, “All good,” and runs his whole hand through your hair this time, making the curls bounce.

You choke out, “Thanks,” and hurriedly put away your things, desperate to leave before Jamie can pick up on the fact that you can barely handle being in the same room as him, and that you have great concerns about what the night will bring.

—

“You look fucking hot,” is the first thing Rebecca says when you meet her in the lobby. Keeley looks mildly offended that Rebecca took the words out of her mouth, but she just laughs and taps your arm.

“Gonna break a few hearts tonight, yeah?” she grins.

You’re not sure about that, especially since dinner turns out to be a very domestic affair. It’s loud, sure, but it’s definitely toned down since it’s a pre-match celebration instead of a post-match one. You’re with Sam, Keeley, and Roy with Jamie far, far away. You push all thoughts of him from your brain only for memories of your ex to surface. You frown.

“The fuck’s wrong with you?” Roy says and for a moment, you think he’s talking to you. But he’s actually talking to Jamie who has moved from his place across the restaurant to right behind your chair.

“Fuck off grandad,” Jamie says good-naturedly. “Wanted to tell this one that some of the lads are going out dancing after this. Not too late,” he hastily adds at Roy’s burning scowl, “just for two hours and we’re only allowed one drink.”

You’re pretty sure that’s a bit more liberal than Roy likes, but he nods his head slightly so he must be in a good mood.

“So, you coming?” Jamie asks and before you can reply Sam and Keeley chorus, “Yes she is.”

You give Keeley a Look before turning back to Jamie. “Guess I am,” you reply.

The smile Jamie gives you does more to make your head spin than any amount of alcohol you’ve had in your lifetime.

—

Jamie has taken it upon himself to wipe that frown off your face. He might have been watching you over dinner and that might have been why he chose that exact moment to invite you out, but he’ll never fucking admit it to anyone except Sam. And Keeley. And maybe Cockburn when it was the off-season and they were a little tipsy. (But not drunk, never drunk.)

So yeah, sue him if he’s spinning you around on the crowded dance floor just because it makes you laugh. It’s not his fault that he’s been wildly in love with you since the day Higgins hired you. It’s not his fault that you’re easy to be around and have the most beautiful smile he’s seen in his life.

And fuck, it certainly isn’t his fault you can’t see in yourself what others do. Why you settled for a piece of shit like your ex, he’ll never know. But he’ll be damned if he doesn’t do his best to show you how special you are. He knows you’ll never feel the same about him, but maybe he can help you level up your standards. Maybe if you’re with someone good, it’ll hurt less that it’s not him.

So he lets you hold his hand for the entirety of the two hours that the team is out and doesn’t say a word when you don’t let go in the cab back to the hotel.

You’ve gotten that closed-off look in your eyes again, the one that means you’re thinking about your ex, so Jamie knocks his shoulder into yours and asks why he can’t have the password to the team’s Instagram account, which is a sure fire way to get you to lecture him on irresponsibility and aesthetics and the best way to get your eyes to come back to life.

—

Honestly, it’s easier to fall asleep than you might have expected. It’s a big bed and you’re fucking tired.

You just didn’t expect to wake up in the middle of the night crying, but it’s always fucking like this when you go through a breakup. You go to sleep fine and wake up sad, so you do your best not to wake up Jamie except you’ve both ended up entangled in each other’s arms, so he can feel you shaking.

“Hey,” Jamie says in a soft voice, “You’re okay, love.”

You half expect him to push you away once he realizes you’re so close, but he only pulls you closer and presses a kiss to your forehead. Maybe it’s because you’re both half-asleep, but it feels like the most natural thing in the world.

You sigh and settle into him, drifting off in a matter of moments.

—

You wake up to a pair of blue eyes watching you.

“How you feeling?” Jamie asks, voice gravelly with sleep.

You just blink at him. It’s hard to form coherent sentences within the first ten seconds of waking up, and even harder with the memory of Jamie’s arms around you last night.

Wait. Not just the memory. The present reality because neither of you have moved.

Jamie misinterprets your silence and begins to extricate his arms.

“Sorry,” he says, “I’m not to trying to like, cross and fucking boundary or something. Should’ve left you alone.”

You’re still not awake enough to talk so you grab him to stop him from moving away. He gives you a questioning look so you say, “I wouldn’t have agreed to share a bed if I thought you were a creep.”

Jamie grins. “So like, if Jan had offered to share a room you’d’ve said no.”

You wrinkle your nose as you say, “Jan’s not a creep.”

“He’s the fucking worst,” Jamie grumbles, “And anyway, can we not talk about Jan fucking Maas this early in the morning?”

“Sure,” you say, “let’s talk about something else.”

Despite your comment, you both lapse into silence. You’re enraptured by Jamie’s blue eyes. You’ve never been able to study them this close before, and you want to take this opportunity to memorize every fleck of green.

Jamie seems to have a similar thought, except his gaze flicks to your lips.

“I have morning breath,” you tell him and he says, “Real men don’t give a shit, babe,” before leaning forward.

It’s softer than you’d expected, sweeter.

It’s also strange to think that you’re making out with Jamie in bed, and that he’s the one who initiated it.

The thought is so absurd that you giggle, mid-kiss. Jamie breaks away and says, “Oi, there’s no way that was a shit kiss.”

“No,” you say between giggles, “it’s just weird that we’re doing this. Like, how are we supposed to look each other in the eye after?”

Jamie moves so he can look at you better, and you roll from your side to your back. “What do you mean?” he asks.

“Oh come on, we share a room and a bed, we kiss because I have all these sad feelings and you’re feeling a lot of emotions about the match, and then we have to work together after. It’s silly.”

Jamie cocks his head. “That’s what you think is happening?”

“Yes?” you say. None of this is going how it’s supposed to. “What do you think is happening?”

“I like you,” he says, and there is absolutely no mistaking his meaning.

“Oh,” you reply in a small voice. “Since when?”

“Since before you started dating the twat. When Higgins introduced ya to the team.”

“That’s a fucking long time ago!” you exclaim. “Were you ever going to tell me?”

Jamie rubs his face. “Yeah, ‘cept you showed up to work tellin’ everyone how you started dating the twat. And I ain’t a home wrecker.”

You groan. “Fuuuck. I literally only dated him to try to get over you.”

Jamie shoots up. “What?!”

“Yeah,” you say, “I’ve been like a little bit in love with you ever since you winked at me during that first promo I did.”

Jamie blows out a breath. “Okay. Think that’s enough talking. C’mere. We’re making out proper, like, then we’re going to breakfast.”

You grin as you climb onto his lap.

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt #ted lasso

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luciferlightbringer · 3 months

Text

Talk to Me

Chapter 1

Lucifer x Fem Fallen Angel Reader

Word Count:4.1 k

CW: Angst, abuse, lies, slowburn,

Chapter 1|Chapter 2 (Updated through Chapter 5)

Welcome back friends! I will be tagging all chapters now under #punching-pentagrams if the tags ever have issues or if you are looking for updates from me 😊

Once upon a time, there was a glowing city protected by golden gates, known as Heaven. It was ruled by beings of pure light. Angels that worshiped good and shielded all from evil. Lucifer was one of these angels. He was a troublemaker with “fantastical ideas” for all of creation, and was seen as such by the elders of Heaven. For they knew his way of thinking was dangerous to the order of their world. So, he was to watch as the other angels began to expand the universe in their ways.

From the dust of Earth, they created Adam and Lilith. Equals as the first of mankind, but despite this, Adam worked to take charge over his responsibility to care for Earth, and Lilith refused to work alongside him. She fled the Garden. Drawn in by her rebellious nature, Lucifer found her and troublemaker seduced her to his cause. Together, they wished to the ruin the future of humanity with their selfish dreams and ideas, offering the Fruit of Knowledge to Adam's new bride, Eve, who accepted, unaware that this “gift” came with a curse. For with this single act of disobedience, evil finally found its way into the Earth. With it, a new realm of darkness and sin. And the order Heaven worked to maintain was shattered. As punishment for their reckless act, Heaven cast Lucifer and his mistress into the dark pit he had created, to live out his days as the King of the cruel and the wicked.

This was the Parable of Lucifer, known by every Angel in Heaven, memorized, but rarely spoken. His name, or even the threat of falling was akin to swearing, which wasn't forbidden but it was frowned upon. For many eons, his name was rarely mentioned. That is, until the morning his daughter came to visit Heaven.

You watched that morning as Emily, the young seraphim you served under, danced around her room as she got ready that morning, singing and flitting about while talking about how excited she was to be at the the side of Sera, the High Seraphim, later at a meeting with the daughter of Lucifer and Lilith.

You listened and nodded at her excitement, trying hard to keep your own thoughts to yourself. You didn't understand how she could be so excited, being in the room with anyone related to Lucifer sounded like a fate worse than death. You were not important enough to be in the room where it all was going to go down, and you were perfectly ok with that.

"And then! Oh! What about the zoo?! Do you think they have zoos in hell? Maybe we have different animals.... Oh I'll just ask them!" Emily squealed with excitement as she brushed her hair.

You were trying so hard not to roll your eyes, why would some hellspawn want anything to do with a heaven zoo? And why did Emily insist on showing them around? It almost seemed cruel to show them around something more wonderful and beautiful than they probably had back home in their dark pit of evil. But it couldn't be helped, that is just who Emily was. Kind and full of desire to make people happy.

You were a "right hand man" of sorts to Emily, a sort of "lady in waiting" or "aid", and had been ever since the beginning of her time as the Seraphim of Joy. You enjoyed a higher status, that was marked by your four wings, but not as many as Emily's six, which marker he status as a seraphim. You liked being by her side, she was sweet and playful. It was her job to keep the people of Heaven happy, and it was your job to assist her in that. She was gentle and kind, and that made your job easy. She treated you as an equal, even if she didn't need to, you were happy to serve her.

"Sounds great, my lady, I hope you guys have fun," you say trying to hold back any sass you wanted to add to your comment in response to the idea of her field trip with the Princess of Hell.

Emily looked at you with a smile, "Oh! You're coming with us, of course. Aren't you?"

You held a strained smile, of course she would want to include you.

"Oh... I wish I could. But I can't I have plans," you responded coolly.

"Plans? Like what?" Emily pouted.

"Well... there uhhh... there is the updates to the Golden Girls theme park! Now that Betty is here, I figured it was important to meet with her and make sure it is correct...ya know... get her ideas..." you start.

Emily floats over and grabs your hands, "Oh but that can wait, can't it? Pleeeeease? This is so exciting and I want my best friend their with me!" She gave you big puppy dog eyes.

You can't help but feel a little shy when she calls you her best friend, you were honored that she thought of you as a friend, but you knew that was not your place, even though you had been by her side for several thousand years. It wasn't forbidden for you two to be friends, just... discouraged. Due to the difference in status. You sighed, she knew you couldn't say no to her when she got all pouty and pulled the "best friend" card.

"Alright, alright! I'll go... Just... Please don't expect me to be all buddy-buddy with them? I mean no disrespect, my lady... The idea of having beings of Hell in Heaven just... makes me nervous..." you nervously confess to Emily.

Emily smiles and pulls you in for a hug, "Yay! Oh (y/n), it's going to be ok! How about this? If you get uncomfortable, you can flap your wings quickly twice and I'll give you a reason to leave, ok?"

"But won't that leave you alone with them? What if they should try to harm you?" you say with worry in your voice.

Emily squeezes your shoulders, "It will be fine. Come on! We are gonna be late!" Emily grabs your hand and she half drags you out the door and out the the main plaza to meet up with Sera before going to welcome the guests from hell. You bow respectfully to Sera in greeting and wait as Emily and Sera fly out to the front gate while you wait inside with Sera's aid, Lily, who also had four wings like you. You rarely talked to Lily, but she was also nice, more serious like her seraphim she served.

"How is your lady feeling about the meeting?" Lily asked calmly, looking forward instead of at you.

"Very excitedly, as is her nature. Almost a little too excited, but that is not my place to tell her, of course. And what of your lady?" You asked Lily.

She shook her head, "Nervous, but collected. She was very distressed by Lucifer's request for his daughter to meet with the council of Elders. Her ideas sound... preposterous, and dangerous. Just like her father's," she responded flatly, her nose crinkling slightly.

"What ideas?" you ask.

Lily looked around for any nearby souls before leaning close and whisper, "Something about trying to redeem souls to get them to give them a second change in heaven."

You blinked, what? She is trying to redeem the souls of sinners? "Is that even possible?"

Lily shrugged, "It is not our place to ask such things, besides, we have no idea why they would want to try that. It sounds fishy to me, and I think it sounds fishy to Sera, too. We have a system in place for a reason."

"Of course, that does seem silly to try to change things," you go back to your neutral stance and start to think. The daughter of Lucifer wants to redeem souls? Why? That seems like a good thing to try to do? But how could they prove they were actually "redeemed" to even attempt something like that. As far as you knew, this had never been done before. This thought left you with so many questions, that from that point on would start to unravel your very understanding of everything you thought you knew.

Eventually you see the gates open and Sera and Emily enter with two others, a girl with long white hair, wearing an eye patch, named Vaggie, and a young woman with long blonde hair in a ponytail and a red suit, who was introduced to you as Charlie Morningstar, the daughter of Lucifer. You wanted to focus on the Morningstar child but... something about the other one seemed off about the other one, especially in the way she looked at all of you. Specifically she looked... uncomfortable? That seemed like such an odd way to react to Heaven. But maybe a place this beautiful was just hard for a demon like her to feel comfortable in. A pity.

You shifted your attention back to Charlie, you were only briefly introduced as Emily's aid, she greeted you warmly and then went back to talking with Emily and Sera. You liked it this way, it gave you a chance to just watch this daughter of Lucifer at a distance. As you toured Heaven with them, you were surprise by how sweet and bubbly she came off. She talked, mostly with Emily, about how excited she was about the meeting and looked in awe at everything she came across in Heaven. Your face remained a pleasant neutral, but you were processing everything through the lens of what you had been told about Lucifer and the information given to you by Lily about her reason for being here. What was her deal?

Eventually, Charlie and Vaggie were set up in their room, and Vaggie decided to stay at the hotel while Charlie went off with you and Emily to the zoo, and Sera and Lily went off to prepare for the meeting. Great... now there was more of a chance that you would have to interact with the Morningstar child, but you were good at remaining pleasant and neutral. You stayed to Emily's right while Charlie walked on Emily's left as they went through the zoo. Luckily, the Princess of Hell was more interested in fawning over the animals than paying attention to how little you were interacting with her. You exchanged some pleasantries and small talk when addressed, but not much beyond that.

The longer you were around her, the more curious she made you. She didn't act at all like how you expected a hellspawn would act. You know you shouldn't be making assumptions but... something was not adding up. How could this be the spawn of the most hated and dangerous being in all of creation? Either she was a very very very good actor, spinning colorful and exciting tales to disarm her victims and seduce them to her side... or somehow... despite having such an awful and cruel creature of a father... this young woman had an actual passion and love for others. You were worried at how much you felt like you wanted to agree with the latter, especially with how in-sync her personality fell with Emily's. You tried to shake the questions out of your head, again it was not your place to ask such questions.

Before long, it was time for their meeting with the angelic Council of Elders, which meant it was your time to separate from Emily and the Princess. You bid them a farewell and went off to take care of that meeting with Betty White to make any additions or suggestions to the theme park. You had a pleasant meeting with her, luckily there were only a few additions that needed to be made, so you were able make note of them with the construction team and get back to Emily's suite to prepare her some tea for her when her meeting was over.

Before long you heard the quick open and shut of the door, signaling that Emily had returned home, "Welcome back, my lady Emily! How was..." you stopped as you heard the sounds of... something you had never heard before... little sounds in quick secession that would get quieter, she'd breathe in, and then the quick secession of sounds would happen again, but starting louder and growing softer.

You peaked out around the corner to see Emily curled up on the floor right next to the door, face in her hands, making her little sounds. You had heard about this, was... was she... crying? She had never seen anyone cry before. You rushed over to her side.

"My lady? Emily? What's wrong? Why do you cry?" you asked with a slight panic, you had not idea how to help her with this, you had never seen someone sad before.

She let out different higher pitched sound and shook before she looked up at you, tears rolling down her round cheeks.

"Oh (y/n), it's terrible! I'm so angry!" Emily cried.

"What's terrible? What did the Princess do? Are you hurt?" you start to look her over.

"No!" Emily cried, "It's Sera, and Adam, and Lute... They have done something terrible!"

You blinked, you had never heard her speak of her superior sister like that, and you new the First Man to be... a colorful character, but what could he have done? "What happened?"

Emily took a few breathes before looking up at you, "They have been allowing a yearly extermination on human souls in Hell to control the overpopulation down there... Adam has an army of angels that go down with him to kill and erase human souls!"

You sat back a little, taking in the news, "Wait... why... That does not make any sense... why would they do something like that?"

Emily let more tears fall, "It's how they control the overpopulation of souls, trying to keep them from thinking about uprising against Heaven... that's why Charlie was here. She's trying to redeem souls into heaven so that we would stop killing them. She-she's just trying to protect her people, and we have just been slaughtering them! For... centuries!"

You sat in silence as Emily continued to freak out and cry, this was the worst thing you had ever heard of. How could heaven allow something like this?! Sure, the sinners had all earned their place in Hell, and they needed to stay in their place... but the does not mean anyone should be erasing them!

"Who could have allowed this?" you ask quietly.

"Sera..." Emily snarled, you look up at her, and she looks at you... with anger in her eyes, it made you jump, "Sera allowed this it happen, and what's worse... she kept it from everyone! From the rest of the Elders... from me... Only Sera, Adam, and his army of angel exorcists know... The rest of us were in the dark..."

You just sat there on the floor next to her, trying to breathe, trying to work through the thoughts and feelings in your body, this was bad... this was... really bad. You never knew this try of bad could exist, not here, not in Heaven, and you felt it all over your body. Your chest felt tight, your thoughts were racing, everything was a blur.

You looked at the young angel next to you, "What do we do now, my lady?"

Emily's expression went serious and she sat up straight looking at you, "This can't be a secret anymore, we must tell everyone."

Your eyes widened, "E-everyone? Even the human souls? My lady... I don't know if..."

Emily got up, "Yes! Everyone! They have been keeping this secret from everyone! They are breaking one of God's base commandments! Now that we know we must tell the truth! Everyone must know!"

You get up to meet her, "But... that would cause an upheaval! What if..." you change to a whisper "What if this causes you to fall? Like Lucifer?"

Emily shook her head, "If something like this is what caused his fall... then maybe there is more behind his fall than they told us in the first place..." She looked at you, "After hearing Charlie... it's worth the risk... I need to do this. Are you with me, or not?" Emily grabbed your hands.

You froze in place. Do you defy Emily, your seraphim that you are sworn to serve and support? Or do you go against something that you know will make the elders unhappy, and risk both you and her falling? You knew this look on her face, there was not talking her out of it at this point.

You sigh, "Ok... I'm with you." She smiled and hugged you, and you hugged her back. You had not idea what was going to happen next, but you couldn't bear the thought of not supporting her. It's all you knew.

You spent the rest of the night planning with Emily on how you were going to get the word out to the people. Unfortunately for the both of you... Sera had been worried about Emily's outburst in support of Charlie and went to go check on her. Emily was not watching her volume, no matter how much you reminded her, so before knocking, she was able to hear Emily talking out some ideas out with you. With a heavy and broken heart, Sera went to go alert the rest of the Elders.

The next morning, you and Emily did not have a chance to start telling anyone before Emily was brought to stand trial before the Council of Elders. You were brought with to stand witness for the conversation you had with her. Emily fought and cried, angry tears running down her face as she pleaded for the safety and protection of the people of Hell, quoting how the Elders were breaking commandments. The Elders responded of how they were doing what they needed to do to maintain the order in Heaven, and Emily teared back about how they were only proving Charlie's point about "angel's getting to do whatever and remain in the sky" while the people of hell suffered by Heaven's hand. Sera warned Emily not to press but she didn't care, saying if this was the truth that she no longer wanted to be the Seraphim of Joy.

"If you don't stop this now, you may soon not be a seraphim at all!" one of the Elders warned.

Adam sat over on the side, grinning. He was quieter than yesterday, he was trying to play nice after his major slip up the day before when he revealed the existence of the exterminations, but he was still enjoying watching the drama. Sera looked over to you, eyes pleading with do something to stop this. You looked over at Emily. There was only one way you could see getting her out of this, it wasn't going to be pleasant, but it was all you could do.

You stood up and looked over to the council, starting to cry and shake, "I'm sorry! I'm so... so sorry, my great Elders!" You whole room was looking at your now, even Emily.

"Please... please do not blame her! It was my fault! I... I was so excited to see the Princess of Hell, know why she was here. I know I wasn't allowed at the meeting... but I still stood outside of the door and listened! I couldn't bear the news! I've gone mad! Emily came back and didn't want to talk about it... but I did! I made her! I filled her head with ideas of telling the people of Heaven the truth! The angels deserve to know! It's barbaric! All of you refused to listen to Charlie and I can't stand that!" you say grabbing your hair. "Please! Emily is innocent of everything besides being to close to me! Please spare her! Punish me instead!"

"(y/n) what are you doing?!" Emily cried.

"I'm telling them the truth, my lady! Don't try to cover this up for me. You've suffered enough!" you cried, flying down to the floor and standing in front of Emily, fanning out your wings to block her, "Punish me instead! I should fall for my madness! My lady Emily has done nothing wrong! Punish me for my sympathy for Lucifer and his daughter!"

Sera frowned, looked at the others, and shook her head, "What a shame, but not unexpected from you, unfortunately." That comment almost made you flinch, what did that mean? Sera looked to the others, who all nodded at her and looked at you with distain.

"Very well," she said, lifting a hand to prompt two other angels to remove Emily from the floor, leaving only you in the middle, all eyes on you. "(y/n), for your attempt of treason against Heaven and attempted corruption of a seraphim, you have fallen from Grace and will be cast into Hell."

You give Emily one last look as she screams, whispering a goodbye to her. A portal opens up in front of you, giving you a clear but distant view of the rings of hell. Intense fear flooded your body for the first time. You take a step back, only to be stopped by Adam who had flown over an landed behind you, a wicked grin on his face.

Behind you he whispered "See you on extermination day", before breaking off one of your wings and kicking you into the pit, the sound of your screams of pain mixed with his laughter as you began to fall.

What an absolute piece of shit.

Most of your fall was spent in searing pain from your one missing wing, the other three fluttering in the wind as hell grew closer, golden blood oozing from your new wound, your first wound ever. You cried the whole way... out of pain, out of fear, out of hope that you saved Emily from this fate, out of confusion...

As you got closer, you felt more pain sear through your body, but for a different reason. You watched as you hands stared to turn into black claws, horns sprouted from your temples, a tail lashed out behind you, eyes watering as they changed to red, some of the feathers of your wings burned red. More tears burned down your cheeks as you fell, mixing in with some feelings of... anger? You wish that Emily had not dragged you into this... but it was your job to serve her... and you did it until your falling day... Who knew what awaited you in hell. The second fallen angel in all of history...

You realized then, yes, would would be the second fallen angel, would Lucifer seek you out if he found out another angel had fallen? You wanted to avoid that at all costs. As the ground grew nearer, you knew you had two choices, use your wings to ease your fall and risk being seen, or tuck them away and have a much harder hit but hide your identity as an angel. You swallowed hard as you forced your wings to tuck away. It was something angels could do, but it was not common, as it was more comfortable to keep them out.

You were almost to the red floor of the Pride Ring. God Above, this was going to hurt... You braced yourself as you plummeted into the hard rock of the upper part of the ring, making a small intend in the ground from the length and power of your fall. Your body seared with more intense pain, bones were definitely broken, but by some grace you were still barely conscious.

After catching some amount of breath, you looked around. With as much information as you could process at the moment, it looked like you had landed on some old battle ground near the edge of the ring. At least some luck was still on your side. With one good arm and leg, you clawed and crawled your way across the red brimstone ground, leaving a trail of golden blood, before finding a pile of stones that were set in just a way that you could hide. Probably something someone had built for cover at some point.

With the last of your energy, you crawled into the hole, took off your robe, and stuffed it under your head as your felt yourself suck into unconsciousness.

_____________________________________________________________

Hello! Just wanted to let everyone know that this one will have less of a back and forth between Lucifer and y/n's point of view, it will still have that, but it will be a lot more focused on y/n until they meet. Also it might take a little before they meet, but we will get there! Let me know if you want added to the taglist!

Taglist:

@sapphireravensworld @cimadreamer @froggybich @randomstranger703 @tiredlillypad @melday0105 @btsgangleader @hawke1917 @gbshdhd @pandaquick @littleladydemon @wonderlandangelsposts @hulyenl @willow404

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar #lucifer x reader #fanfic #fanfic writing #lucifer x y/n #lucifer fanfiction #hazbin lucifer #lucifer #lucifer magne #lucifer hazbin #fanfiction #hazbin hotel fanfiction #slow burn #angst #punching-pentagrams

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luxurychristmaspudding · 4 months

Text

tommy's party (tommy's party pt. ii)

summary: you and frankie work things out. it just might be that actions speak louder than words.

pairing: frankie morales x f!reader

ratings/warnings: 18+, MDNI. roommate!frankie, stoner!frankie and stoner!reader. mentions of drinking and smoking weed - they're still having a good time! friends to lovers, massive idiots in love, split pov, little bit of fluff, a whole lotta sexual tension and actual s*x this time. thighriding, m masturbation, unprotected p in v (wrap it, y'all), oral, creampie. use of pet names (good girl, baby, etc. (not platonic!))

song is tagged at end of fic - header does not represent reader, only the album!

wc: 12.3k

an: happy frankie friday, y'all <3

part i - you and your friends

Tasha leaves early the next morning.

Frankie offers to make her coffee, but she politely declines, saying she should probably get home. He’s surprised at how quick and easy it is for her to cut her losses. He’s surprised at how little he cares about seeing her again.

He’s surprised at how quickly all of last night is eaten up by thoughts of you.

You and how much you’d heard. You and how you’d left. You and where you’d gone.

Frankie tries to keep his mind occupied as the hours tick by. He texts you again, just wanting to know if you’re safe, adding to the string of unanswered messages from the night before. He has a horrible, sour feeling that he’s upset you. And a deeper, nasty feeling that he can’t quite place.

He hates the fact you have this hold over him, hates the fact that he felt nothing as he fucked Tasha last night, the fact that he had to bite his tongue so he wouldn’t moan your name. Hates the fact that when he shut his eyes he could only see you, only wanted to feel and hear you, and that it’s those thoughts that made him do it. The fact that you care so much you’d left the apartment, but not for the reasons he wants.

His mood has soured so much by late morning that he wishes you won’t come home. He hopes he won’t have to see you, hopes he won’t have to talk to you until he solves the broiling mess swirling in his head. But it’s still bubbling when the front door opens and you step through it, in the same clothes you left in, hair wet and eyes tired.

Frankie’s stomach rolls as though he already knows, can already sense where you’ve been, who you were with.

You fix each other with a stare as you kick off your trainers and take off your hoodie. You hang it next to your jacket and turn to face Frankie at the kitchen counter. You hope he can tell you’re not wearing a bra. You hope he can see from there the bruises that are forming on your neck and collarbone from Benny last night.

And this morning.

As you step into the kitchen, Frankie’s eyes sweep over you. The marks, the way you now avoid his gaze. You try to busy yourself with making coffee, but Frankie won’t move. Because now you’re this close, he can smell it. The faint, fresh scent of Benny’s body wash.

‘Where the fuck have you been?’ He spits.

You purse your lips as though you’re trying not to smile, and Frankie feels himself drawing to his full height, incensed.

‘Benny’s.’ You say, and Frankie stares at you, hot and angry.

‘Benny’s?’ he asks, and you throw him a look.

‘Yes, Frankie. I was with Benny.’

Frankie’s jaw grinds, a hand flexing at his side.

‘What - what were you doing at -’

You turn to him, quick as a whip, a kind of disgust on your face.

‘What do you think we were doing, Frankie?’

You stare him down, heart beating hard in your chest, daring him. You’ve never been this angry with him, never felt the hot, heady lurch of it between you until now. But then he’s never hurt you like this, so deep and quick you didn’t even know what was happening until you’d washed his buddy from your skin this morning.

Frankie’s nostrils flare as he looks down at you, face unreadable.

‘Knock it off.’ He seethes.

‘Knock what off, asshole?’

‘Whatever that is,’ he says, waving a hand over your shoulder. ‘Whatever that thing you have with Benny is.’

You sneer at him, stepping closer. He doesn’t move, just watches you with something molten in his eyes.

‘Why do you want me to knock it off, Frankie? Hm?’

‘I don’t want you sleeping with my friends.’

His words sting, and you reel backwards as though he’s actually hit you. A well of something flourishes in your chest, at once cooling, at once stoking your anger. Your cheeks colour as you feel the embarrassment grow. Because he’s made it sound so out of proportion - he’s making this something it’s not.

‘What the fuck, Fish? What the fuck?’ You laugh, cruel and disbelieving. You turn from him, making your way back through the hallway. You shout over your shoulder, Frankie following you - ‘Seriously? You know if I hadn’t slept with your friend you wouldn’t be living here, right? You know you’d still be couch surfing, or living in some fucking bedsit somewhere -’

‘Fuck you -’

‘No, fuck you, asshole.’ You say, pulling your jacket on. ‘What is this really about, huh? You pissed off that I interrupted you last night? Or are you pissed off that I fucked Benny? Whatever kind of bullshit you’ve got going on here, it’s not gonna fly. And if it’s not something you can fix, you’re out.’

Frankie freezes. But you can’t stop, carried away now.

‘I’m - what?’

‘You’re out, y’hear me? You tell me to leave Benny alone again without giving me a good fuckin’ reason why, you’re out. Especially when I know who you had here last night.’

Frankie baulks at you. You laugh again, high pitched and thrilled as you stomp one of your boots on.

‘What, you really don’t think I know, Frankie? We work together. I’ve heard her laugh, and I know she gave you her number. So quit tryna be sly, too.’ You whirl around to him once you’ve stomped your last boot on and poke your finger in his face, chest heaving, the words barely scraping through your teeth.

‘And I’ve heard she’s a shit lay, baby. So congratu-fuckin’-lations. Enjoy.’

Frankie rocks as the door slams behind you. The silence left in the wake of the argument is deafening.

A prickling feeling works its way up Frankie’s torso, becoming hot as it floods his chest and neck. His breathing is shallow, his head swims. He fumbles in his pocket for his phone, dials the only number he can think of.

‘Are you free right now?’

—

When you return later that evening, a little drunk, the flat is dark and empty.

You toe your boots off by the door, and stand in the shadows, breathing them in. Streetlight and stars slant through the living room and kitchen windows, and the door to Frankie’s room is firmly shut. There’s not a snore, not a rustle of bedclothes, not a whisper of music floating from beneath the door. The tears you’ve been fighting to keep at bay all night prick in your eyes, and you whistle a breath out through your mouth, blinking up at the ceiling.

If he’s gone to Tasha’s, if that’s who he’s turned to, you think you might be sick.

If she’s what Frankie wants, you will leave. This home you’ve made doesn’t mean enough to just sit by and watch him fall in love with someone else.

The sound shocks you so much you freeze in the hallway, standing in dazed silence just long enough to realise what you’d heard was your own crying. Your face is wet to the touch, and your hands travel down your throat, to the burning in your chest. Fuck. This had been a bad idea from the start. His curls at the party, the shy smiles. You knew. You had known then, and you’d still let it happen. You’d gotten yourself attached, even convinced yourself it could work, and now you stood in its smouldering ashes.

You rush into your bedroom, the door banging behind you as you claw at your chest. It hurts. It hurts so much, and there's nothing you can do to fix it, to stop it. The only thing in the world which could mend it is probably in the arms of another woman, memorising her smile, the flecks of colour in her eyes, the lilt in her voice when she speaks -

You bundle your fists into your blanket and cry hoarsely into your pillow. It doesn’t help. It does nothing to dissolve this cataclysmic feeling of loving him, of understanding him, of wanting him and knowing you won’t have it. You wish you could feel less stupid, less angry. You wish you could feel less.

You don’t know when you stop crying, but you welcome it. You welcome the silence, the blur and spin. You welcome the crackle in your throat. And finally, you welcome sleep.

You awake with your face still buried in your pillow, your temples pounding. You pull yourself up from the bed, stripping off the day’s clothes with mechanical movements, dumping them in your laundry basket before pulling on a pair of sweats and a t-shirt. You dig around in your duvet for your phone, pulling it out to find it empty - not a single text, nothing from Frankie to tell you where he is, to say he’s left his keys again, to ask you to wait up for him.

Your throat burns, and you rub your eyes, pissed off now at the crying, at still being upset when it's so obvious he doesn’t want you.

Even after all you’d heard through the bedroom wall.

You open your door to the still flat and head to the kitchen through the black. You take a glass from the top cupboard and fill it with water, and painkillers from the drawer to your left. You gulp both down and refill your glass before padding back down the hall.

When you return to your room, you swaddle yourself in blankets again and turn on the TV. The apartment is too quiet without any noise from Frankie’s room, no indication that it’s not just you in here. You doze to the drone of whatever movie is playing, and some time after midnight you hear the swish of the front door opening, and the click of it slipping shut.

Your heart freezes in your chest, clamouring in your ears as you strain for noise, for whispers, for the sound of someone else with him.

But there is nothing but the dull thud of his boots on the floorboards, and then nothing above the sound of your TV. You clutch the softest part of the blanket you have tucked around you and pull it towards you to bury your face in it. When you inhale, it smells like Frankie.

There is a soft rap at the door, and you cringe away from it.

You can’t bear to look at him, can’t bear to hear him say whatever it is he wants to say, but you can’t bear to turn him away either.

When Frankie gets no response, your door swings slowly open.

He stands there in the doorway, one hand on the handle, unsure whether to come in or not. That easy familiarity gone in the space of ten minutes. He’s still wearing his clothes from this morning, his cap pressed down firmly over his curls. His eyes take a moment to adjust before he spots you wrapped up in your bed, and he swallows.

‘Hey.’ He says, so softly that it makes your eyes water again.

‘Hey.’ You say back, voice muffled, cracking and heavy at the end.

As though he can’t stop himself, as though nothing could keep him from you, Frankie steps into the room. You blink up at him with red, wet eyes and damp cheeks.

‘Hey, what’s wrong?’ He asks, worried, coming to the side of the bed - like he’s forgotten, like he doesn't know - ‘What’s happened?’

You shake your head, try to turn your face away from him, the tears coming faster. He says your name gently, a little firmer, reaching with both hands to cup your cheeks.

‘What’s going on?’

‘I’m sorry,’ you croak out. ‘I’m sorry.’ Before your throat seizes and you can’t say anymore, that burning in your chest returning.

‘Hey,’ Frankie coos again, lifting from his knees to join you on the bed, wrapping his arms around you. ‘What happened?’ he asks again, ‘Are you okay?’

‘I’m okay,’ you croak, ‘I’m just sorry. I hate fighting with you. I don’t know what that was this morning.’

Frankie squeezes you tighter but says nothing, and that scares you more. Maybe you’ve already said too much, maybe it’s already changed everything you’ve shared. The late nights and the lazy mornings, the meals, the conversations you’ve had at all hours, the beds you’ve shared.

‘I’m sorry,’ you sob, everything catching up with you too quickly. What if you’ve done it? What if you’ve finally pushed him away like you should have done at the start? ‘I’m sorry, Frankie. Are we still friends? Please can we still be friends?’

‘Of course we’re still friends, hermosa.’ He says into your hair, his own voice tight. He angles his head down so his lips brush the top of your head at every word. ‘Of course we're still friends.’ He repeats, but whatever else he goes to say dies in his throat. You try to take deep breaths, try to muffle your crying.

‘God,’ you hiccup, ‘This is so stupid. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to cry -’ but when you pull away from his chest, Frankie quickly wipes his face with his hands, trying to smother the evidence of his own tears. ‘Frankie -’ you breathe.

‘No, no,’ he says, waving away your concern, ‘I’m fine. I just - I don’t like seeing you upset. Not over me. And - I’m sorry, too. I don’t know where that came from this morning -’ he takes a deep breath, and your heart swoops with a strange disappointment - ‘But I won’t do it again. It was a weird thing for me to do.’

You stay sat up, staring at him as his chin wobbles in the faint lamplight of your room. He looks at you again with big ol’ baby cow eyes, the ones you always giggle about but can’t bring yourself to now.

‘I keep thinking about what I said,’ he whispers, voice thick, ‘And I know it’s too late, but I want to take it all back. I hate it. I hate that I said it. You can see whoever you want - that’s none of my business. And - and I’d hate for you to think that I thought you were some kind of - I dunno - slut for sleeping with him. Because you’re not. I just -’ he swallows, ‘It’s so lame, it’s such a bad excuse. I got jealous. You’re my best friend, we live together. I don’t like the idea of Benny being that for you.’

It’s only as it hangs in the silence between you that Frankie realises just how bad of an excuse it is. How blatantly obvious of a lie, a half truth. You’re my best friend, we live together, and I think I’m in love with you. I don’t like the idea of Benny being something I’m not. I hate the idea of him having his hands on you, making you feel good, when that’s all I can think about. I got jealous because I want you. I want you to myself.

‘It’s only happened twice,’ you breathe, ‘Only twice, and he has never come close to the kind of person you’ve been for me.’

Frankie nods, looks away. He twists his hands in your blanket. He doesn’t want to hear you say it’s okay or I forgive you. He doesn't feel like he deserves it.

‘Did you see her tonight?’ You ask, and Frankie glances back at you. Your voice sounds foreign, too loud in the room.

‘Who?’ He asks.

‘Tasha.’ You whisper, ashamed at your transparency. Frankie stares at you before speaking.

‘I’ve been - I was with Santi.’

You nod, staring down at your hands.

‘Okay.’

Frankie doesn’t ask you anything else. You don’t ask him, either. Instead, you lie back down, tucking your face into a pillow, unsure of what to do. There’s still a jealous little fire burning in your belly, something he won’t be able to fix overnight. But you don’t want to tell him about it.

‘You can stay here, if you like,’ you say, voice small. ‘Like a sleepover.’

‘Are you sure?’ Frankie says. You nod.

‘’Course I’m sure.’

And Frankie doesn’t let you think anymore, just pulls you into him, still in his jeans. You breathe him in deeply, wrapping your arms around his waist, and that’s how you sleep.

—

Tasha doesn't come round to yours again. In fact, Frankie doesn’t even mention her. You try not to think about it too much, and you hardly see her at work. When she greets you at changeover, she’s pretty sheepish, but doesn’t seem at all upset.

At least that’s one bullet you’ve managed to dodge. If she’d been crying on your shoulder, demanding to know why he hadn’t called, it would have led to a long conversation about feelings you weren’t ready to have with a coworker.

Things settle back into their normal rhythm around the flat, and you almost forget about the fight and the half truths told between the two of you that night. Frankie brings you your favourite flowers and you keep the cupboards stocked with his favourite snacks. He picks you up from work when he’s home, and you cook dinner for him if you get in first. Some evenings you smoke together and watch a film or holler at him playing air guitar in the kitchen to Peach Pit. It's easy. It feels right. And you find yourself slipping into daydreams again.

On a rare Friday night when you’re not working, Frankie packs you up in his truck and you head round to Pope’s.

Santi’s not keen on throwing the kind of parties Will does, so it takes a fair bit of bribery on his end to keep it to watching a film and sinking some beers with the boys. You’ve become a regular fixture, and tonight you spend it sunk into Frankie’s side, leant against him as the movie plays, listening to the rumble of his chest as he laughs, the bass as he says something to one of the other men. When the movie’s finished, you sit around and dissect it, each of you drinking more and more as though your directorial expertise will improve with alcohol. By the time the tequila is passed around, the five of you have largely lost the sense of the direction the conversation was going in.

Pope tells you you and Frankie can stay. You graciously accept his offer before Frankie can protest, and you wait to wave Benny and Will goodbye before Santi leads you upstairs.

He leads you both to a room along the hallway, opening the door and flicking the light on for you. A huge double bed sits in the middle of the space, and its pillows and duvets look so soft and welcoming you think you could actually cry.

‘Pope,’ you breathe, ‘This is wonderful.’

He chuckles and rolls his eyes at you.

‘Yeah, yeah, too many beers for you,’ he says, and you swat his arm. ‘I’m gonna get you guys some water. I’ll be back up in a bit.’

The room is quiet again as Santi turns and treads down the hall. You turn to find Frankie stood close by.

‘Whaddya think?’ You ask him. He smiles softly at you through lowered lashes.

‘Looks good to me.’ He says, bending to press a kiss to your hair. You close your eyes and smile, scrunching your face a little. Frankie runs a finger under your chin, and you blink up at him. He is so pretty. ‘C’mon,’ he murmurs, ‘Get ready for bed.’

The two of you split off to other sides of the room, backs turned to each other. You pull your arms into your t-shirt so you can loop yourself out of your bra, undoing the clasp and pulling it out of your top before laying it on the floor. You unbutton your jeans and pull them off next, folding them neatly and using them to cover the lace you’d just stripped yourself of.

‘I’m gonna get into bed.’ You say softly, giving Frankie the chance to cover himself or get in before you.

‘Go ahead.’ He says, and you turn to find him already tucked up, his jeans slung on the floor a couple of feet away. You gasp in mock horror.

‘Did you watch me?’ You say, slipping in beside him. He laughs.

‘Only for like, the twelfth time since I moved in.’

You giggle, pressing your face into a pillow to hide your blush. Frankie watches you, his own eyes crinkled and warm.

‘Like what you see?’ You grin. A pretty pink flush spreads across Frankie’s cheeks.

‘Always, hermosa.’ He says.

The quiet moment that follows is only interrupted by Pope appearing in the doorway, carrying two glasses of water. He pauses at the threshold, laughing at the sight of you both tucked in together.

‘’S like I’m babysitting.’ He chuckles, placing a glass on Frankie’s bedside table before coming round to set one on yours.

‘Are we your favourite children?’ You ask, looking up at him. He strokes your hair.

‘Aw, nena,’ he coos, ‘I don't have favourites.’

He laughs when you pout, moving away to grab the cushions from the chair by the window. ‘But,’ he continues, ‘I do have least favourites.’

Santi begins to place the cushions between you and Frankie, creating some kind of barrier. You watch him, confused. He moves to Frankie’s side of the bed to place the last one between your heads, and you prop yourself up on your elbows to watch him.

‘And my least favourite,’ he says, running a thumb along Frankie’s cheek, ‘Is you.’ He whispers, bringing his thumb and finger to Frankie’s nipple, twisting it roughly. Frankie howls, almost leaping off the bed as Pope cackles at him, laughter tumbling from your lips before you can stop yourself.

‘Fuck you,’ Frankie pants, a smile splitting his face even as he still clutches his chest. ‘And what the fuck is this?’ He asks, gesturing to the cushions.

Santi begins to back away to the door.

‘It’s a pillow wall,’ he says, ‘To make sure you two don’t touch each other.’

‘Touch each other?’ Frankie asks. Pope mm-hms.

‘No touching. No funny business.’

You scoff at him, unable to help the chuckle that escapes. You look between Santi and Frankie, baffled, wanting to see your roommates reaction.

‘I’m on my best behaviour,’ Frankie laughs, ‘I always keep my hands to myself.’

Santi waves him off, turning in the doorway to face you both. He places a finger on the light switch.

‘It’s not you I’m worried about.’ He says to him, turning his face and playfully narrowing his eyes at you. Your arms come flying out from the covers, protesting your innocence.

‘What the fuck?!’ You cry. ‘It was just Benny, one time.’

Santi waits, raising an eyebrow.

You pinch the bridge of your nose.

‘Okay, twice, but that does not mean - we are not going to fuck in your house.’

Santi points a finger at you.

‘In my house - interesting. That leaves other possibilities. I’ll ask you about that again tomorrow morning.’

‘Santiago -’ you hiss, but Santi has already flicked the room into darkness, pulling the door softly closed behind him.

‘Sweet dreams,’ he coos, ‘And no fucking.’

Frankie can’t help the disbelieving little chuckle which bubbles out of his throat, but when he turns his face from the ceiling to look at you, he finds you turned with your back to him.

The amusement is gone in a moment. He breathes your name.

‘You okay?’

‘M fine,’ you say, ‘Just gonna sleep. I’m tired.’

Frankie turns on his side to face you, trying to make you out in the low light.

‘What’s wrong?’

‘Nothing.’ You say again, and he frowns.

‘Was it what Pope said about Be-’

‘No.’

Frankie reaches a hand over the cushions between you to touch your shoulder.

‘Hermosa,’ he says, pulling to turn you over. You go easily. ‘What is it?’

In the halflight, he can see you cringe. He waits, leaning over the cushions to see you properly.

‘Does it… isn’t it weird for you, to have the boys joke like that?’

He props himself up more, arms folded over the pillows.

‘Like what?’ He says.

‘Like… they know about Benny. And then they joke about you and me. I mean - if it makes you uncomfortable I can -’

Frankie shakes his head at you.

‘It’s never been weird,’ he murmurs, reaching out to take your hand. ‘Really. God, the jokes we’ve made over the years - we’re getting away with it lightly.’ He smiles at you, and you smile a little back.

‘Okay.’ You whisper. It’s quiet for a moment.

‘It’s a compliment,’ he murmurs, ‘That they think I could get with you,’ You frown at him, at the tinge of sadness in his eyes - wrong - ‘But if it makes you feel uncomfortable, I can tell them to stop.’

You look up to the ceiling, shaking your head.

‘No,’ you breathe, ‘No, it’s okay. It’s - funny.’

What you want to say is that you like it. You like the way the boys have put you together, you like how you come as a pair. You like how the two of you fit.

Frankie moves to kick off the cushions between your legs and reaches to throw off the ones between your bodies and heads. He pulls the hand he was holding towards him so you’re as close as possible, and wraps his arms around you. You do the same.

‘Don’t worry about it,’ he says, breathing in your smell, feeling your warmth seep through the layers between you. ‘Get some sleep.’

You nod against him, clutching his t-shirt in your fists.

‘Okay. Night, Frankie.’

‘G’night, baby.’

In your dream, underneath it all, there is a deep, dark sense of panic.

Even as you chase your orgasm, even as you watch Frankie below you, covered in sweat, hands on your hips, blissed and fucked out, you have the sense that something is wrong. There is a noise pulling at the fibres of your dreamscape, and once you tug on it, it sucks you out of the darkness and into the halflight of Santi’s bedroom.

Your own moaning has woken you, along with the heavy breaths and quiet groans Frankie releases against your head. You rear back from him in horror, realising now what had been happening - the way you had been rutting against his leg in your sleep like a dog, the way you had been moaning, how wet you are -

‘Frankie -’ You begin, but you don’t even know what to say. Shame bursts hot and ripe through your gut. You can barely see him in the dusky room, can barely think through the fog of arousal.

‘S’okay,’ he pants, hands scrabbling to find you. He takes ahold of your bare thighs. ‘C’mere,’ he says, and you move with him, willing, confused, on fire. ‘D’you wanna finish?’ He whispers.

Every sensible thought you’d had flees, and your mouth replies of its own accord.

‘Yes.’ You moan, feeling your pussy clench as he runs his fingers over your skin.

It happens in such a fever that you don’t even process what’s happening until you’re already straddled across one of his thighs. Frankie pulls you firmly down onto the muscle and moves your hips so your swollen clit can graze against him. You moan so loudly at the contact that he cups a strong hand around your mouth.

‘Shh,’ he says, ‘Gotta be quiet. Be a good girl.’ Your moan is barely muffled as your eyes roll back. At his words, your hips begin to move of almost their own accord, delirious in your pleasure, his proximity. Frankie helps guide you steadily, pulling you back and forth over him, groaning and breathing deeply as he watches you, eyes molten in the shadows.

‘So pretty, baby,’ he murmurs as you whine against him, hands scrabbling for purchase in his t-shirt, bunching it above his ribs. Your face burns, and you duck your head down to avoid his gaze. He halts your movements, a hand leaving your hip to touch beneath your chin. Gently, he pulls you back up to meet his gaze

‘Look at me, hermosa,’ he says, and you do, goosebumps flaring over your skin at the fire you find, the way he devours you, undresses you with his eyes. ‘That’s it.’ he groans, allowing you to move again.

You can feel your wetness seeping through your panties, your body jelly, surrendering control to him completely.

‘Frankie,’ you whisper, desperate, begging -

‘Not gonna fuck ya,’ He grits out, throwing his head back as he squeezes the flesh of your bare thighs. ‘Just want you to use me. Show me. Show me how you make yourself come, baby.’

You moan again, loudly, but he doesn't quieten you this time. He lets you grind down on him harder, faster, and you watch the muscles in his neck strain, watch the way his stomach tightens. You watch the way he fists his cock over his boxers, the way he fixes you with his burning eyes.

‘Can I?’ He chokes out, and it doesn’t even sound like him. Breaking, desperate. You nod, frantically, and he slips a hand beneath the material. You watch the way he moves his arm, can only imagine the way his cock looks, the girth you can just about see the outline of, the pearls of precum that would be leaking from the tip. You work yourself up and down his thigh faster, sweat dripping down your temples. He goads you on, murmuring praises, cooing at you, so pretty, so needy, so wet.

‘You gonna come, hermosa?’ He says, and you bite your lip as you whine, the knot so tight you think you might break. Your cunt pulses and clenches as you try to breathe through it, gather some control so you don’t wake up the whole house. ‘C’mon, baby,’ Frankie breathes under you, squeezing and twisting and pulling. ‘Be a good girl. Come for me.’

Your movements turn broken, jerky, as you come. Your blood roars in your ears as you let out a stream of moans and curses, whispers of his name. You can feel that you have soaked through to Frankie’s thigh, and in the moonlight you can see the trail of slick you’ve left. You whimper, your eyes flicking up to Frankie’s as he throws his head back, muscles straining, vein throbbing in his temple as he comes all over his hand in his boxers. You moan at the sight, the way he comes undone underneath you, the way he pants as he soaks in the sight of you a little longer.

Your head still fuzzy, he pulls you down into his arms, giving you no time to panic.

‘That’s it,’ he whispers, kissing your hair. ‘Go back to sleep. It’s all okay. Don’t worry about it. Let’s sleep.’

And as easily he had given his command, you shut your eyes, and succumb.

When Santi wakes you both for breakfast the next day, he says nothing about the cushions on the floor. He says nothing of the way you and Frankie avoid looking at each other, and pretends to be oblivious to the permanent blush on your cheeks. He pretends he doesn’t notice something has changed. And he lets you go home believing no one else could guess, either.

—

The flat is quiet for the rest of the week.

It’s not like you're trying to avoid your roommate, but your schedules have worked out at opposite times, and there’s always something going on. You text each other so neither of you have to worry about where you are. Frankie out with the boys, you out with your friends, a regular’s birthday, a job interview for Frankie.

At the end of the week you finish your shift a little earlier than expected, stumbling through the door, exhausted, a little after eleven. You take a quick, blisteringly hot shower and pull on Frankie’s t-shirt which had gotten mixed up in your washing, a pair of boyshorts on underneath. You roll a joint cross-legged on your bed, Adventure Time humming away in the background, moving to open the window when you’re ready to smoke. You flick the lighter and the joint burns to life, the orange reflecting your face in the glass.

The front door swoops open in the hallway, and you hear it shut. Hear Frankie go into his room, hear him throw a few things around before he exits and knocks on your door. He pushes it open in his pyjamas.

‘Hey.’ He says.

‘Hey.’

He closes the door behind him, coming to join you at the window. He presses a kiss to your temple, a hand on your shoulder as he takes the space next to you on the sill.

You offer him the joint silently. He takes it from you, pinches it between two fingers, takes a couple of draws, and hands it back.

When you’ve finished sharing it, he turns Adventure Time off and plays Peach Pit through your speaker quietly before crawling into your bed. You stare at him for a moment, unsure, before he holds open the other side of the duvet for you. You come forward on heavy feet before bundling yourself down and snuggling into his side without thinking too hard. It’s pretty easy to do with your smoke-riddled brain.

‘Still friends?’ He rumbles into your hair. You squeeze him tighter.

‘’Course we are.’ You mumble back.

You don’t get to the end of the first song before slipping into the depths of sleep.

---

The next morning, sun still burning off the nighttime clouds, a text buzzes through to both your phones at the same time.

Y’all coming to Tommy’s party tonight?

You groan at the sight of it, having completely forgotten about the promise you’d made to Will about going to his friend’s birthday party. You smush your face back into your pillow as Frankie kicks your door open, holding two mugs of coffee.

He chuckles at your bedhead, and you sit up and take your cup, thanking him. Once he’s back beneath the duvet, you remind him about the party. He grumbles, sinking back down onto the mattress, leaving his coffee on your bedside table. You do the same, and he curls up into your side.

The minutes tick by, warm and quiet.

‘’M not going.’ You mumble.

‘What do you mean you’re not going?’ Frankie says, drawing his head up from where it’s lodged near your neck, speaking directly into your ear.

You pull a face and pinch your thumb and forefinger together, twisting them like a dial.

‘Too loud, buddy.’ You say, and he relaxes, murmurs a sorry against your shoulder.

‘Too tired. Ain’t going,’ you say, stretching, ‘And you can’t make me.’

Frankie chuckles.

‘Alright, ya grump.’

You pull him by the forearm, bringing him in closer. He rests his head on your stomach, just below your breasts. He breathes you in, and you run your fingers through his hair, enjoying the silken feel of it. A small ache stretches in your heart. A wish that this be the way every day starts. A small ache over the fact that, even after everything at Santi’s, nothing seems to have changed that much. Nothing has granted that wish.

You get split off from Frankie pretty quick at Tommy’s party.

He’s not worried about it - he’s used to it. Even despite your protests this morning, he knew you’d be charming your way around the house as soon as you walked through the door. He stands with Pope in the kitchen, a couple beers deep, catching glimpses of you in the hallway making a group of girls laugh.

‘So it’s happened, then?’ Pope says.

Frankie shoots his eyes back to him and cocks his head.

‘What?’ he asks. Pope frowns.

‘You two,’ he says, gesturing towards you with his bottle. ‘You’ve finally, y’know, explored your feelings for each other.’

Frankie’s jaw drops.

‘We - what?’

Santi pulls a face at him.

‘Frankie, it’s okay. It’s fuckin’ obvious to all of us. Even to Benny. You don’t have to dance around it anymore -’ But Frankie is still staring at him, open mouthed, stunned. Realisation folds Santi’s features. ‘Jesus Christ.’ He whispers.

He grabs Frankie’s elbow and hauls him into the pantry, shutting the door behind them.

‘What are you talking about, Pope -’ Frankie rushes out.

‘Nothing’s happened between you two?’ The man asks, fixing Frankie with his eyes. He squirms.

‘Only one thing,’ he says, ‘But nothing serious. It’s not like we’re in love or anything -’

‘You seriously -’ Pope breaks off, looking around the cupboard, exasperated. ‘Really?’

Frankie frowns at him, barely getting out a yeah- before Santi groans, face in his hands.

He takes Frankie by the shoulders, and shakes him, hard.

‘Are you in love with her, yes or no?’

Frankie swallows.

‘Yes.’

‘Okay, good. And she’s clearly got it bad for you, Fi-’

‘She doesn’t, Pope, c’mon man -’

Pope grunts at him, knocking his head against Frankie’s shoulder.

‘Stop it,’ he says. ‘I can’t do this, Fish. It’s impossible. You two need to have a conversation. I thought Benny was slow,’ he says, shaking his head, ‘But you… Jesus Christ. Go on, get lost. Go and find her.’

Pope takes him by the shoulders again, pushing him out the pantry.

Frankie stumbles into the kitchen, sets his beer down in a daze. And without quite knowing why, he sets off to find you.

You’re close to the same spot you were in last time he saw you, but sat on the bottom step of the stairs instead, making friends with the pretty, dark-haired girl sat next to you. Frankie leans against the bannister awkwardly and clears his throat. When you look up, your eyes go wide, delighted.

‘Hey sugar,’ you say, reaching out to grab his hand. You turn to the girl beside you, and say - ‘This is Frankie,’ like you’ve been telling her about him. ‘Frankie, this is Sakura.’

Frankie nods tightly to the girl, and she smiles brightly back at him. To his surprise, she stands and slips past him.

‘I’ll leave you guys to chat,’ she says, winking at you. ‘Catch you later.’

Frankie looks back at you, questioningly. You shrug.

‘Everything okay?’ You ask. Frankie squeezes your hand.

‘Can we talk?’

Frankie leads you into the bedroom furthest away from the top of the staircase, and locks the door. You sit down on the edge of the mattress as he turns the bedside lamp on, bathing the room in a sweet, pink-orange glow.

‘What d’you wanna talk about, baby?’ You ask, laying back and closing your eyes. Frankie can feel himself panicking, can feel the walls getting a little closer. Why was he doing this?

He closes his eyes for a moment.

‘I’m gettin’ to it.’ He says, and you hum, lips quirking a little.

The room is quiet for far too long. It’s warm, and the sounds of the party are muffled, close. The bass slinking through the floorboards, the chatter - it’s not unlike the night you met.

Frankie pinches the inside of his arm, trying to will himself to think of something, to say something, but -

‘We should fuck. Like, actually fuck.’

Your eyes are still closed when you say it, and you miss the way Frankie’s jaw falls slack, the way the muscle in his cheek ticks when he wrenches it shut. Frankie watches you, serene, laid out on the bed like an angel. He swallows.

‘You’re drunk.’ He says, soft but firm. He tries to lean against the wall in an unfazed way, and slips a hand into his pocket to will his cock to stop twitching.

‘I’m not drunk,’ you pout, eyes still closed. ‘Unfair how you always think I’m drunk off a few beers. Did you ever think I might just be having a good time?’

Frankie shifts his weight and watches your face; tries to ignore how fast, how hard his heart is beating.

‘Sure. But you’ve had a few beers tonight.’

You crack an eye open at him, a devastating grin growing across your lips.

‘So?’ You purr, ‘Still not drunk.’

Frankie breathes out heavily through his nose, his control of the situation slipping, his mind clamouring at your suggestion. He tries to look away, anywhere around the room, chest pounding. The desk, the wardrobe, the fireplace, the cupboard. But he can’t. His eyes are glued to your body, the way your feet dangle just off the floor, your bare legs, the bunched up skirt which only just covers your thighs. He tries not to let his mind linger on what he can and can’t see in the low light, instead letting his eyes travel to the curve of your hips, the soft swell of your belly, your tits, your glistening neck, your hair splayed out over the duvet, your arms stretching up above your head. Your wanton smile.

‘You don’t mean it. You’d regret it in the morning.’

You suck a breath in through your teeth and open your other eye, rolling them up to the ceiling. You arch your back like a cat, and Frankie barely contains a moan at the stretch, your skirt climbing higher, a slither of skin exposed on your midriff. Your grin fades, a pained little smirk. You swipe a hand over your face.

Frankie waits. Your eyes slide to his again.

‘I wouldn’t.’ You say.

Frankie shakes his head.

‘You would.’

You sit up suddenly, hands gripping the sheets.

‘I wouldn’t, Frankie.’ Your eyes are fierce, burning. Frankie swallows.

You duck your head to look at your toes, swinging them just above the carpet.

‘I’ve thought about it a lot,’ you say softly.

Frankie’s mouth goes dry. He tries to work some moisture into his throat to make some kind of noise, something to convey his surprise, but he’s frozen in place. His heart drops to the floor and then picks up at a pace that he can feel hammering in his neck.

‘Long before that night at Pope’s. And I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but the walls in our apartment are pretty thin.’ You look up at him through your eyelashes, all darkness and mischief. You bite your lip as you wait for the penny to drop.

Fuck. Fuck.

Frankie’s mouth works open as his stomach swoops, knees loose and heavy. His hands are unbearably clammy in his pockets. He brings them to his front, crossing his thick arms over his pounding chest. He says your name quietly.

‘’S’okay,’ you whisper. And then you giggle, face briefly turned to the ceiling, slightly more illuminated. You are so beautiful.

‘I heard you,’ you murmur, and Frankie wants to beg you to stop, to not say what you’re about to say. He’d rather drop dead. He’d rather leave this house and walk forever if it meant he didn’t have to hear how you’d listened to him moan your name through the drywall. But he can’t. He can only look at you with wide, brown eyes, and hope you’ll grant him this small mercy.

You cock your head at him, furrowing your brow, looking at him shyly.

‘Did you really want me, Frankie?’

He’s going to pass out. His blood roars through his ears, straight down to his cock. Frankie can only nod, try and breathe out a yes.

You smile a little, trailing a couple of fingers up your thighs.

‘Did you ever hear me?’ You ask him. His breath catches in his throat.

‘Hear you?’ He whispers.

‘Yeah,’ you breathe. ‘Did you ever hear me, baby?’

Frankie’s throat works as he stares at you. He thinks of the gasps and whimpers he’s heard, the groans and breathy curses. The high pitched noises you breathe out when someone or something fucks into you, your moans when you’re getting close. Your wet body in the shower, the shake of your legs, the grip you had on your own breast, your head thrown back in ecstasy -

Yeah, he’s heard you. But he’s not sure if that's what you’re really asking.

He nods, and you smile, all feline and pleased.

You lower your feet to the floor, and stand from the bed. You pad towards him, every muscle in his body wound impossibly tight.

‘Did you hear me say your name?’ You ask, your breath fanning against his chin. Frankie fights to keep his arms crossed, to not reach out and touch you. He fixes his gaze on an eyelash cradled on your cheek.

‘My name?’ He croaks. He’s fighting a losing battle, his hard cock betraying him in his jeans.

‘Yeah, Frankie,’ you whisper, ‘I could never think of anyone else.’

Your confession hangs in the air between you, and to gauge its truth, Frankie’s eyes dart up to meet yours. His resolve crumbles immediately. You stare up at him, eyes big and wide and clear. The realisation is crushing - not drunk, not high, honest and wanting and hopeful -

Frankie’s hands drop to his sides, twitching to reach for you, grab your tiny skirt in both fists, hold to your thighs -

‘Can I kiss you?’ You murmur against his jaw.

‘Please.’ He whimpers.

Your hands make their slow journey from your sides to his stomach, and Frankie flinches at the contact. You pause, looking up at him. He swallows and nods, and you continue. You push both palms over his stomach, over his chest, resting them on his shoulders. You admire every plane of his body, even through clothes, before reaching up on your tiptoes, wrapping both your hands around the nape of his neck, tangling them in the curls there.

Frankie breathes heavily, watching you, eyes tracking all over your face as you go. He traces every freckle, every mole. Each colour in your eyes, the shape of your nose, the bow of your lips. He lets his hands drift towards you, lets both of them rest on your hips to pull you closer, squeezing your soft flesh before bringing one up to cup your cheek. He inclines his head, and your eyes flutter shut.

The first meeting of your lips is soft. It’s warm and gentle and everything you had wanted it to be. It should have been the quiet kiss you had over coffee in the morning, the kind of kiss you shared after a first date. But here, it’s perfect.

Frankie brushes his thumb over your cheek before dipping his hand lower, hinging your jaw to open your mouth to him. He licks your bottom lip and you grant him access, moaning into the kiss. His grip on your hip tightens.

The movement of your mouths is slow, languid. There is no rush. Just gentle pressure, acknowledgement as it all falls into place. The feeling that this is what the two of you were made for. This is what you’ve avoided for too long.

Frankie’s tongue swipes against yours, and you tug on his hair. He groans into your mouth, the hand on your jaw dropping to your waist, pulling you closer.

You press your chest against him, kiss him back harder, slipping a hand down past his shoulder to scrape at the skin under his t-shirt. Frankie shudders against you, the hand on your hip moving to grab a handful of your ass, the one on your waist inching up to your breast. You breathe against his lips as he feels you, moaning as he palms you over your top, as your nipples tense, flicking one with his thumb.

He nips and kisses at your jaw as your hands travel back to his chest, one catching on his belt, stroking his hip as you whine, your whole body warm and sensitive. You step closer to him again as he drops the hand on your ass, bringing it to cradle the back of your neck as he continues to work on your jaw, your tits.

‘Frankie,’ you breathe, and he returns his mouth to yours for a slow, deep kiss. He bites your bottom lip as you pull away to slip a hand lower to palm him through his jeans. He’s so hard already, you can feel him straining against the zipper, and it seems to match the dry heat you feel for him, something which burns its way down your throat and straight to your cunt. It aches, and your lace beneath your skirt is so wet that the only thing you want to do is take them off.

Frankie groans loudly against you, both hands coming to cup your face so he can kiss your forehead slowly, tenderly.

He pulls your face back so he can look you in the eye. The intensity there stops your movements, stills your hands.

‘I love you.’ He says.

The noise from the party below fades to an almost nothing as something bright and white fills the room. Joy, relief blooms in your chest.

‘What?’ You say.

Frankie’s eyes crinkle at the corners.

‘I love you.’ He repeats.

You giggle as the feeling overtakes you, sway in his arms as you become lightheaded.

‘I love you, too.’ You whisper, and Frankie breaks out into a grin. It all seems so simple now, all seems so easy. It all makes sense. All the bullshit, the touching, the looks. Frankie kisses you again, all tongue and teeth and smiles before he chuckles.

‘Fucks sake,’ he mumbles.

‘What?’ You ask, still grinning.

‘Now I have to tell Pope he was right. That you do like me.’

You laugh at him, pulling him close by the hip, a hand tangled in his hair again.

‘I do like you,’ you say. ‘I like you quite a lot.’

You dip your hand back to the front of his jeans, palming his cock in earnest. His hips buck against you as he groans into your mouth, as he slips his hands down to your tits again, this time yanking your top up to expose them. Frankie moans at the sight of the lace you’re wearing, thumbing and twisting and pinching your nipples again.

‘You’re gonna kill me,’ he whines as you begin to undo his belt.

‘Panties match.’ You breathe into his collarbone, and he moans, ducking his head to your neck, sucking at your pulse point, biting and then licking to soothe the mark he’s made.

You pant against him, growing frustrated with your sloppy fingers on his buckle. He chuckles at you, guiding your hands away before replacing them with his own. He whips it off and throws it down by his feet. You lick your lips. Hungry, impatient.

‘Come to bed, Frankie. Please.’

‘Be patient, baby,’ he coos. ‘We have so much time.’

You pout at him, and he smirks.

But an idea is already forming. If he's not going to come to bed, you’re going to go to him.

You smile sweetly as you step back towards him, reaching a hand up to his cheek to draw him in for a kiss again. Frankie lets you, and you take the moment to pop open his button and undo his zipper. He breathes out shakily against your lips, but you suck on his bottom lip, licking, nipping, until he regains his focus. When you slip your hand beneath the waistband of his boxers, he shudders, gasping against you. You smile into his mouth before tipping his head back and sucking marks into his neck. Deep and hard so they bruise, licking into the hollow of his throat as you finally wrap your hand around his cock. Your fingers don’t meet, and you moan at this realisation, eager to feel the stretch, the burn as you take him. You grip him tighter, running your fist along his shaft, pulling at the soft skin until you reach his tip, thumbing the precum over the rest of his length. When you’re satisfied he’s been teased enough, you drop down to your knees.

He watches you, one hand pressed to your cheek, your temple, your hair as you look up at him all doe-eyed, pulling his jeans and boxers down so that his length can spring free. When Frankie’s cock lurches out from his underwear, you loose a gasp and a groan. He’s beautiful. So thick, so soft-looking as he twitches under your gaze, tip deeply flushed and oozing precum, his balls heavy beneath.

‘Fuck, baby,’ you breathe. Frankie inhales deeply through his nose, his hand still tangled in your hair as he says, quietly -

‘You don’t have to do this.’

‘I know,’ you say, ‘But I want to.’

Frankie’s grip in your hair tightens imperceptibly, and you hum quietly, licking your lips before curling over your palm and spitting into it. Frankie groans above you, full lower lip caught behind his teeth, his head cocked to the side. His broad chest rises and falls quickly, flushed.

His breath catches harshly in his throat when you reach out and touch him. He throbs in your hand, and you smile delightedly up at him when again your fingers don’t meet around him. You lean forward to mouth at his hip, and his hips buck towards you as you lick, kiss, suck, and bite. You want to leave marks everywhere, want him to remember this for days, to feel your teeth on him for weeks. You stroke him slowly and tightly all the time, moving down to his thighs, coating his skin in your saliva, nipping at the soft flesh there, moving your mouth up, up, up, reaching out with your tongue to kitten-lick his balls.

Frankie’s fist balls in your hair as he lets out a whimper, and you smirk into him, nudging forward to breathe in his musky scent.

‘Please,’ he whispers, ‘Please, hermosa -’

‘Be patient, baby,’ you say, mocking him. ‘We have so much time.’

He doesn’t answer with words, but he uses the fist in your hair to move you further out from his body so your mouth sits so pretty, a little open, in front of his weeping cock. You grin up at him, clearly enjoying the tease.

Holding his eye, you pull your top and bra down to just below your tits, exposing your pebbled nipples. You rock back on your heels to play with them a little, twisting and pinching and moaning before Frankie tries to push you a little closer.

‘Fuck, put me in your mouth,’ he growls. ‘Put me in your mouth while you play with yourself like that, baby. Lemme fuck your throat.’

You moan lewdly back up at him, giving your tits one last squeeze before you take his tip between your lips, swirling your tongue over the tight skin, fluttering it over his frenulum. Frankie throws his head back in a choked moan, his whole body rigid as he tries his best not to thrust all the way into your mouth. You bring your hands to his thighs and scrape your nails along them gently before pressing forward. You loosen your jaw and take him as far as you can, satisfied when you feel him hit the back of your throat, when he hisses through his teeth.

‘Fuck,’ he grits, ‘Fuck, so good - your mouth feels so good, cielo - can you feel me all the way back there? Can you -’

He cuts himself off as you swallow around him, tasting the salt of his precum as he lets out a pained sound, his cock achingly swollen. You pull off him slowly.

‘Keep talking,’ you rasp, ‘It’s sexy.’

His cock is already so wet from your throat that he slides back in easily. Frankie rocks as you hum around him at the taste, the feel, the weight of it. Salt pools in your mouth when he whimpers again, as you swirl circles on his pulsating head, as you lick long stripes up him and cup his balls.

‘Jesus fucking Christ,’ he says, louder this time. ‘Never knew you had such a mouth, babygirl. All those smart things and - fuck - this is what it was made for - made for me, made for my cock - shit - aren’t you?’

You move faster as Frankie babbles, as you feel the drips from his cock warm the heat in your belly further, take him deeper. His hips begin to move almost beyond his will, not harsh, not pressing, but like he just can’t help himself. Tears well in your eyes and begin to drip down your cheeks, flushed, hungry, proud. You hum again and swallow around him, reaching between your legs, hiking your skirt up so you can push your ruined panties aside. Your pussy is soaked, embarrassingly so, and you moan around him again, losing focus for a second at the first fingertip you press to your aching clit.

‘Wanna fuck you,’ Frankie pants out, ‘Please, wanna fuck you baby - let me out your mouth, come on now - please, baby, please, baby - fuck - fuck -’

You flick your eyelashes up at him as you bob at the same pace as your fingers, and Frankie damn near loses it at the sight of your hand disappearing up towards your cunt.

‘Get off - get off, lemme fuck you like you need, baby - fuck, fuck - shit -’

You smirk around him, enjoying this, enjoying seeing him strung out, begging, throbbing in your mouth as he tries desperately to keep from coming.

‘Stop,’ he moans. You hollow your cheeks and whine again, but this time he pulls you off quickly, strong with his hand in your hair, and the sting of it feels delicious. Frankie stands half ruined above you, panting, closing his eyes at the sight of the string of spit connecting your mouth to his twitching cock. ‘Please, baby,’ he says, ‘Be good. I don’t want to come down your throat in five minutes the first time we do this.’

You blink up at him through your tears, and he makes a low noise in the back of his throat.

‘Come here,’ he murmurs, pulling you gently back up to your feet. He sits you down on the bed, and you haul yourself further back on your elbows. He watches you, stepping out of his shoes, his pants and underwear, throwing off his shirt to some dark corner of the room as he sets a knee on the bed and comes crawling towards you. The sight reminds you of another night, him on your bed, you at the window -

‘Let me undress you,’ he murmurs against your neck, his cock heavy and wet against your thigh You arch your back up into him, too hot, aching, too wet -

‘Please,’ you gasp.

Frankie pulls you forwards by your jaw, tugging your shirt over your chin as you sit up, hands reaching greedily for his skin. He lets you as he unfastens your bra, whipping it away from your chest, moaning as he takes you in. His lips latch to your collarbones as he shuffles away from you, and your hands fly to his hair. He bites and licks and sucks and kisses in the same way you did, moaning against you as you tug on his curls, as you buck your hips up to bump at his cock. He makes his way lower, pressing feather light kisses to your sternum, to the top of each breast, before closing his lips around your nipple, sucking and biting and swirling. You gasp, pressing yourself as close to him as possible, the ache in your pussy almost painful now. Frankie plants a hand by your head to hold himself up, letting the other one fall to your thigh, dancing on your feverish skin.

‘Frankie -’ you plead, but it’s useless, useless as he releases your nipple with a pop, only to give the other the same attention.

Grunting, you shift your hips, wiggling your hands down to your skirt, pushing it down and halfway off.

‘Hey,’ Frankie grunts, stopping his ministrations altogether to pin both of your hands above your head. You arch your chest and Frankie nips at the mound of flesh you present to him, his acknowledgement of you continuing to play dirty. He breathes your soft skin in, slow and deep, before looking up at you. His eyes are hot, molten, and you whine and twist in his grip as his nostrils flair. ‘Keep your hands up here, y’hear me?’ He says. You nod furiously, and he squeezes your wrists again before slowly letting you go.

Before slowly backing down the bed, slowly kissing your chest, your belly, before slowly spreading your thighs, before burying his face in your lace-covered pussy, mouthing at you behind the fabric, breathing in and groaning out.

‘Soaked through, baby,’ he breathes. ‘That all for me?’

Yes, you think, as his fingers hook around the waistband, as he begins to pull them down and off. Feeling the cool air meet your hot, slick centre and hearing the sound of his breath hitch at the visual. All for you. He opens you up wider once your underwear is off, and looks up at you through his eyelashes, flushed, fucked out already.

‘You look so - fucking good like this.’ He says.

You nudge your hips gently up to his face, and he finally, finally indulges, flicking his tongue out to scoop up your arousal, to swallow it down, to groan as he laps at your clit.

It almost hurts, how good it feels. This slow, hot, velvet texture licking at you, pointed where it needs to be, soft wherever else, as he delves and dives and slurps and draws every imaginable sound from you. You’re past the point of coherent words, just bucking hips and fingers that scrape through his curls, muffled pleases and Frankies as he works you out in circles and figure eights. As he spreads your lips with his fingers for better, more sensitive access, as he sucks your clit into his mouth, as he slips a finger in. And then another.

The stretch is delicious, even if you know it’s not a patch on what’s coming.

Frankie hums deeply in the back of his throat, his eyes closed and face wet with slick. You watch him, amazed. Your best friend who you’ve seen in almost any scenario. Sharing dinner, out for walks, changing batteries, below you as you ground out an orgasm on his thick thigh - but nothing, nothing can compare to the blissed out, sweaty sight of him between your thighs. Brow furrowed and curved in pleasure and concentration, mouth working over you. Thick curls falling over his forehead, his fingertips pressed into your thighs, the other hand pressed deep inside you.

This is heaven. This is fucking heaven, laying here as he pumps his fingers in and out of you, curved up towards that spot you can never quite reach yourself. The band of heat, of light which has been bunched up at the apex of your thighs is tightening, tightening, and you can feel it inside you as your muscles clench, turn solid.

‘Frankie - Frankie - Frankie -’ you gasp, trying to warn him as a molten high tide rises in your body, as your hips lift, as you work yourself further onto him, as your hands twist and clutch at the bed, at your tits.

He doesn’t pull his mouth away to hum an mmhmm in encouragement against your clit, and you squeeze your eyes shut tight, the pressure unbearable.

‘Gonna come - fuck - I’m gonna come Frankie, fuck -’

It’s fucking devastating. The rip and heat which tears through you, your body erupting in ecstasy, as something hot, heavy, and destructive sears through you.

Your back arches and the darkness behind your eyes contracts to red, limbs rigid as you shatter in his mouth, as he continues to lick and suck and take every drip which floods itself out of you, grunting and gasping as he chuckles, as he tells you -

‘Good girl, baby, good girl. Fuckin’ delicious. You look so good baby, squeezing my fingers so tight. God, what’d I do, what’d I do to deserve this.’

You feel yourself radiate across the room, illuminating every corner before banding back into yourself. For a while, there is only the pant of your breath and Frankie’s muffled voice and something hot and wet moving against your pulsing clit. You don’t know how long you’ve been gripping his hair for, or how hard, but you slowly let go, teasing your fingers from his curls as you breathe. Frankie pulls his fingers out of you and you groan at the loss, eyes fluttering shut, head rolling to your shoulder. He sucks your clit into his mouth one more time, and you jerk away from the overstimulation.

Frankie crawls back up the bed again, and you open his eyes when his warm hand presses to your cheek. He’s grinning at you, thrilled as he holds his used fingers out in front of your lips. Wordlessly, you pull them into your mouth, tongue working to clean him of your taste. He swoops a breath out, removing his fingers gently when you’re done before leaning in to kiss you. He tastes salty sweet, beard heavy with the smell of you as he ghosts his hands all over your body. He swallows.

‘How do you want me, querida?’ He whispers.

You want him in every position, and you seem to tell him as much. He laughs as he plants more kisses to your lips, tongue darting out to find yours, to trace the line of your throat. You watch, delirious, as he settles between your thighs, thumbing over your clit so you twitch again.

‘Want you on your back, like this,’ he murmurs, ‘Wanna watch you take me.’

You nod at him, utter something like a please, a thank you, a Frankie as he notches himself at your entrance, the fat head of his cock already bruising, already stretching. Frankie sees it, flicks his eyes to yours.

‘Are you sure you’re ready?’ he asks, kindly, softly. You hook your legs around his hips by way of answer, pulling him closer, toppling him forward. A big, bright smile blossoms over his cheeks, creasing his crows feet. You can’t help but mirror him, pressing a hand to his chest, the other tangling in the nape of his neck.

‘I love you,’ you breathe against his teeth. He lays his forehead against yours.

‘I love you,’ he murmurs.

Frankie cants his hips forward, and the bruising feeling gives way to something which is almost sharply painful as it pulls through you. The pain quickly dulls to a full ache as Franlie slides a little further forwards, watching you, tracing every part of your features. You hook your legs higher around his waist and wrap your arms around the back of his neck, keeping him close as you breathe, as you whine and leak around him. Frankie drinks it all in, giving soft praises, pushing back from you so he can take it in. Your slick, puffy cunt split open and stretched around him, and your body, glowing, sweaty, layed out lazily, knees spread and dropped either side of your chest as you watch him, brow furrowed, lip bitten.

He’s going too slow.

Far, far too slow for the pressure already rebuilding in your gut, for the way he presses against every place inside your body. You move your hips to fuck yourself down his cock a little more, and one of his big hands shoots out to stop you.

‘Easy, baby, easy. Take it slow. Doin’ so good for me, look at you.’

You whine, back arching again, and he groans low and full.

‘Stop doing that,’ he says, ‘Making yourself look so good. I’m tryna make this good. I’m tryna make this last.’

Frankie latches his mouth back to your skin, forming bruises as he bottoms out, as he waits for you to beg him.

‘Wanna feel you tomorrow,’ you huff, warm against him. ‘Wanna remember, wanna be sore. God, Frankie, please - please move. I need you to, you have to -’ words fail at the slow drag of his cock, heavy against your walls. Your throat constricts as he pauses and begins to push back in, picking up the pace every time. Your noises are keening and needy, and he brushes the hair back from your face.

‘I know, baby, I know,’ He coos.

You make a breathless, high-pitched noise at every punch of his hips, and Frankie lifts his head to swallow them as they fall from your lips. And it’s unfair. Unfair that a word like ‘fucking’ is what has to be used for this, for how tightly you have to cling to him to make sure you’re not flung into outer space. You grip his biceps as you watch him, legs wrapped around his waist again so he can drive in deeper, deeper, deeper, as you get louder, louder, louder -

‘Benny fuck you like this, baby?’

The question takes you by surprise, though perhaps it shouldn’t. It riles something in your gut, a satisfaction, a delight, because he knows. Already knows as he fucks you, as he cages you in and stares at you, your body, the way you fit together and move, the noises you’re making, the look on your face, the way you choke him tighter and tighter -

‘Fuck no, Frankie. God, fucking - no -’

Frankie grunts deep, accentuating your response with a particularly sharp thrust which makes you cry out and see stars. You grit your teeth, feeling the coil tighten further, craning to meet his lips.

He pecks them as he thrusts, sucking your lips, biting when he can.

‘You asked if I heard you,’ he pants, and you hold your breath. ‘I heard you - fuck - so many times, baby. Fucked my fist to you so many times. Couldn’t think of anything else but your little moans and noises.’

You clench excruciatingly around him, and he makes that same pained noise from before.

‘And I saw you, too,’ he gasps. Your eyes lock, his black and earnest, like he could devour you and the universe whole. You feel something loosen and pull inside of you. ‘Once, in the shower. And I couldn’t look away, couldn’t forget - but I wished I could, you were just -’ He swallows into your neck as you begin to pulsate, his words pushing you closer. You know what he’s talking about, had wondered for weeks, had had fantasies and hoped for months, fuck - ‘And then at Santi’s, feeling you lose yourself on top of me, feeling you come, god -’ he grits out. ‘I could live with loving you, just about. I could, if I wasn’t what you needed. But when I heard you say my name like that in your sleep, baby, when I felt you push it out on me, I had to know, I had to know - you feel so goddamn good. Nothing should ever feel this good. Nothing ever has.’

And then, because you can’t help it, because you need to hear it, you choke out -

‘Tasha?’ And he shakes his head, breathing raggedly.

‘Nothing,’ he says, ‘Fucking - nothing.’

You eyes spin back in their sockets, and you claw at him, something white hot just within your grasp, your pussy throbbing -

‘Frankie,’ you cry, ‘Frankiefrankiefrankiefrankiefrankie -’ in a warning, a prayer, a promise; and he answers you, the aquiline curve of his nose pressing into your cheek as he coaxes you, begs you, tells you to come for him.

It’s too much, the movement of him, the size, the weight. He doesn’t need to touch you anywhere else as you splinter apart beneath him, shards of light splashing across the walls as you heat and combust, as you tighten and tighten and then burst, wet against his lap, against the sheets, as you cling on to him, as you shake and gasp and gasp out any noise you can. Your pussy flutters and contracts around him, and Frankie grunts and moans in your ear, breath hot, cock twitching and so hard inside your body.

‘Where -?’ He chokes out.

‘Inside.’

And fresh dizziness laps at your temples as you feel him pump inside your body, as you feel his cock jump with his spend, as he softly fucks it in to you. The squelch, the wetness, is obscene. You want to be full like this all the time.

You lay there for sometime, wrapped up in each other, his cock still keeping you plugged, as you breathe in each other’s air and whisper your thoughts and confessions. Frankie keeps you close, legs tangled, softening, tracing shapes on your bare shoulders in the glow of the lamp as the sounds of the party slowly begin to filter back through the crack under the door.

‘Hope Tommy doesn’t mind us using the bedroom.’ You murmur, and he snorts.

‘Bit late now,’ he says. ‘Hope Will doesn’t like him too much.’

You laugh, knocking his shoulder with your fist. He makes to bite at it, clicking his teeth together as you pull it away. You grin at each other, eyes gleaming and full.

‘I love you.’ He says again.

You hum into his shoulder, stifling a yawn. ‘Love you, too.’

There’s quiet for a moment, your head clear, before Frankie shifts beside you.

‘We’re still friends though, right?’ He says into your hair, and watches as you laugh, loud, tucking your face into his neck.

‘You asshole,’ you giggle, glancing up into his eyes. ‘’Course we are.’

He hums into your scalp, tangling his legs with yours further. You run your feet up his calves.

His thumb strokes along the back of your knuckles, and his breath tangles in your hair. Soft kisses are pressed to any inch of skin he can find, and you bury your face in his neck, nipping and soothing, smiling like an idiot.

You don’t think you’ll ever be friends again. But maybe that’s a good thing.

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just-some-random-blogger · 1 year

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Hello gorgeous !

Could you make something with a reader who is a very important fighter and in her plans she somehow married daemon as a second wife and made a deal with rhaenyra and daemon to respect and not threaten her people and kingdoms .

And when rhaenyra gets the throne , the reader asks for a divorce , breaking their hearts?

Stone Cold

Daemon Targaryen x Reader x Rhaenyra Targaryen

Summary: There was nothing more powerful than an alliance of two houses, and that was exactly what you offered the Queen and her consort to win the war. It was out of loyalty, but your heart was not as strong as your resolve.

Word Count: 2k+

Warnings: Mentions of death/suicidal tendencies/war, fem!reader, second wife!reader, angst, typos, etc.

A/N: Heya nonnie (pls read this)! I saw this ask and was like OMG FRESH OMG REAL OMG YAS but then the more i thought about it, the more i was thinking it wouldnt be possible, like divorce wasn't a thing then and i know i could just make something up but i- i- dont play like that. and unless you're ok with a modern au, which idk if u are, i realized i could not write this BUT THEN while i was ranting in my reply of how i think ur req would really play out, i thought fine i'll write it anyway dw its not a modern au, but it's also not exactly your request either. its still pretty angsty tho so i hope you like it <3 ALSO IDK WHO IF I WANNA BE DAEMON OR RHEANYRA IN THE GIF I LOVE THIS GIF SO MUCH T_T Tagging: @pinksirensong @deniixlovezelda would you like to read a tibit of an epilogue for this?

Rhaenyra was my queen; she always has been even as a child. Having grown up with rugged brothers, it was clear to me that power was only gotten through force, through sheer will, and landed only on those born to be heirs.

And yet she was declared to heir the Iron Throne, regardless of her sex.

And yet she rode on dragonback as her long braids and ornate skirts flew with the wind.

She was living proof that my brothers were morons in their belief that women were less, and that if I wanted to, I could do what they did, even better.

So against everyone's wishes, my parents, my brothers, the whole of society, I stood where I wanted and spoke about my thoughts. Though I was not welcomed, I trained to be strong enough go go against my adversaries, not just with my wit, but with my sword.

I made a way for myself in court and in battle, and developed a fortress within myself that could not be felled, not by a man, not by anyone.

So when it came high time for me show my gratitude to my queen, I did not hesitate.

I pledged my allegiance to her, and watched her navigate her plans with poise. I watched her as she caressed her pregnant belly and felt my heart hurt for her. I watched as she turned to her husband, the infamous Rogue Prince, for comfort, and found it in his touches.

Oh, to be like her, to capture the heart of the heartless, and to exude such feminine grace even in a room full of men who doubt her capabilities.

And so I finally spoke my plans to her. I finally told her the loony thought I've had since the start of my stay in Dragonstone. Our families should form an impeachable alliance and strengthen our forces.

"You are suggesting that you become my husband's second wife?" Rhaenyra states plainly. Her hand is atop her belly, and her husband stood steadfast behind her.

"It would be only for show, my queen," I nod, "you are aware of my family's stronghold, and how they insist on remaining neutral through all of this."

Rhaenyra watches me intently as I explain. Daemon tilts his head.

"This would give my brothers no choice but to fight for me-- for you."

"And how would marriage guarantee that?" Daemon asks, "I am well-acquainted with your brothers' insolence."

"You are correct, Prince Daemon. There has not been a moment in our lives where my brothers and I did not go against each other's wishes, but through it all, they have a sense of honor, and they would rather die than allow our family name be put to shame. It is why they were so against the idea of me taking up arms in the first place," I cross my arms, "but since then, they have joined me many times over in my victories. They would surely not give up the chance to bask in our victory."

Rhaenyra and Daemon take in my words.

For a moment, there is only silence. Then they look at each other, examining each other's expression.

That night, I was married to Daemon by the traditions of his house.

After he kissed me, I turned to Rhaenyra and nodded to her. She offered me a small smile and nodded back.

Since then, we exercised our might against the whole of Westeros. Those who did not know of us knew soon enough that the combined power of our houses, along with all our other alliances, was not something to be taken lightly.

And so we were tasked to spearhead the war under Rhaenyra's command. Daemon would take the east, and I would take the west. Where one needed help, the other would arrive with their blade, still slick with the blood of the enemy.

Historically, men had done nothing but strike me and spit on my bones. Though he was now my husband, I thought little of Daemon. I didn't then in the fires of his youth, and I didn't now. I bring myself to care about him out of my respect for Rhaenyra.

Yet as time went by, and battles were won and lost, I grew to respect him as himself, as Daemon Targaryen, the prince commander of the troops, who knew exactly what he was doing.

"I did not think you were capable of doing anything un-serious."

I turned to him as he smirked. His eyes were on the my cup of ale, "might my lady wife spare me a drop?"

Daemon sits next to me, though on the ground, as I was sitting on a stump I found not too far off our camp.

I peer down at him as I hand him my half empty cup.

My lips part when he downs it and places the empty thing beside him. Daemon catches my look and chuckles under his breath, "oh, did you mean to finish that?"

I don't get to respond as he grabs my leg and leans against my thigh.

My stomach rolls at the sentiment. I did not know why he was acting like this towards me so suddenly.

He releases a groan as he closes his eyes, "you are my wife, are you not? Must you stare at me as though you wish to burn me with your eyes?"

That would only be the start of his affection towards me.

It was jarring, disturbing, really, how he would reach for my hair and brush it aside, how we would reach for my cheek and brush it with the back of his hand. He would not do it in front of Rhaenyra, and for that I was at least grateful.

I decided not to make issue of it, because it was not as though it was harmful really.

And yet it dawned to me that that was my mistake; he was an invader of my fortress, and I only realized when it was too late.

I could not calm my beating heart when we were ambushed.

It was not the blade against my neck that made me want to hurl, not even how the man who managed to capture me for a few minutes was gutted on my side and had his entrails gush onto my armor. It was not the violence that made my pulse deafening to my ears, but how Daemon acted out that violence.

"Release her now, and I will be swift about your death," he seethed. When he was not listened to, his face darkened. The moment he had an opening, he stabbed my captor in the gut. When I was pulled away by our men, I watched as Daemon rampaged the man with his bare hands, smothering him until he was deformed, until he was dead.

And then he turned to me, gripping my face with his bloody hands, examining my form, "are you alright?"

That was when everything changed.

Not only did I begin to anticipate, look forward to his touches, I began to lean into them. I began to look forward to his company, seek his company. I would worry if there was not word about him, and I would worry if there was, until I knew it was not grave.

I began to laugh with him, in the privacy of our conversations, in front of the troops, in front of Rhaenyra. I began to bicker with him unabashedly, for it became second nature. I began to dance and make merry with him, for why'd shouldn't I? Why not, when Rhaenyra teased us about it, when she laughed about it with us.

And then at some point, I did the worst thing.

I began to want him.

I began to want him the way Rhaenyra did.

I began to felt entitled of him, for after all, he was my husband too.

I allowed myself believe that it was alright, Rhaenyra wouldn't mind, after all, her husband was my husband.

But then I faced with the truth of how brazen I'd become.

But then Rhaenyra called for Daemon and he did not answer.

But then she gave birth too early and held her lifeless daughter in her arms.

But then he was broken because of it, and yet made no inclination to anyone.

But then I realized I was not apart of their picture, for neither of them even spoke their sorrow to each other, much less anything to me.

I was a fool to think I was deserving of anything. I was a traitor to them and our agreement. I was a traitor to myself.

And so I rebuilt my fortress, I pulled away from Daemon's touches and did not hold Rhaenyra's gaze too long.

I became reckless in battle. I dove head first into everything, not caring what the consequences would be.

It was because of my recklessness and severe injuries that we were at the precipice of victory. Daemon should have been applauding me where he was rebuking me. And Rhaenyra should not have been worried by her husband's news of me at all, not when she would benefit the most from my death.

Yet here I was, gripped harshly in Daemon's hands as I defied his wishes to stay in bed longer.

When that didn't work, he ordered me in the name the Queen to do so, because it was, in fact, her order too.

It dawned onto Daemon that it didn't matter which of them commanded it, I would not be withheld from the cries of war.

"DO YOU WANT TO DIE!?" Daemon demanded finally as I got onto his last nerve.

I did not hesitate to respond.

His expression dropped when he heard me say yes.

It was against myself that I began to bawl in front of him. I had worked so hard to keep my defenses, and yet it was all for naught.

"Why?!" he heaved, hands darting up to my face instead of my arms.

I shake my head. I would have to die first before I admit anything to him.

"I will have you chained like a madwoman before I have you succumb to your darkness," he quips, releasing my face, before dragging me to the tent post, undoing his belt and binding me there with it.

I cry out to him. I tell him to release me, of all of it, so that I wouldn't have to suffer.

"Tell me wife what makes you suffer, who makes you suffer, and I will swiftly end them."

I shake my head at the anger on his face, "Daemon, please."

"TELL ME!" he quips, grabbing my face again.

I choke on my tears finding as I allow my voice to betray me.

Daemon knit his brows, "what was that?"

"It's you, Daemon," I whine, screwing my eyes shut, "it is hell to be around you. I do not want this pain anymore."

He releases me, stepping back twice, "and what mortal err have I done to make you loathe me so?"

I peel my eyes open, chest constricting at the sight of him. I shake my head, "nothing."

Daemon's nostrils flare. He grabs my jaw tightly, face tense with hatred, eyes glassy in betrayal, "then why?"

I whine at the pain of his grip.

He heaves as he releases me, shaking his head as he walks back, "will you drive me mad along with you, selfish bitch?"

I shake my head again, "Daemon-"

"ANSWER ME!"

"Because I want you!" I blurt, "I want you so bad when I should not-- I cannot!" I grip my hands tightly, "we may be married, but you are not mine. You are Rhaenyra's, and I do not wish to ever come in between that. Not after all that has-"

I cut myself off when Daemon began to undo my ties. I myself began to back away from him when he began to rid himself of his clothing.

I threaten him with my words. When that does not deter him, I threaten him with the blade I managed to snag.

He was stoic the entire time. He asked me to kill him, dared me to kill him. Of course I could not. I threw the blade to the side.

He called me a fool as he undressed me. He called me pretty when he began to kiss me. He called me his when he began to fuck me.

I shouldn't have, gods know I shouldn't have, but I did, I let him have his way, because I wanted him to. I wanted him to touch me, to use me, to take his anger out on me. I wanted to for so, so long.

It was everything I ever imagined and more.

And enjoyed it deeply before I hated myself viscerally after.

It was clear at one point that everyone knew of us. Our dynamic had drastically changed from when we were first married to now. They all knew what he and I did in the dark, but why would they care, we were, in fact, married.

I cared though.

And I guess it was the will of the Stanger to allow me that one thing before collecting my soul.

I did not fight against it. I did not try to save myself.

When I decided to take the blow for Daemon in the battle field, it was not out of my selfish desire to find freedom in the shackles I bound myself in, it was because I wanted to save him, I had to save him.

He admonished me as he carried my limp body out of the skirmish. He called my name and threatened to do his worst if I thought of closing my eyes at all.

It was nice to have made it long enough to make it through the transport, to see Rhaenyra, and her and Daemon's children that I myself found to love in my own way.

I felt bad that they all seemed to be sad that I was fading away.

I felt bad that Daemon had to be the one to carry me here.

Where was Daemon?

"He's gone to finish the war," Rhaenyra said, holding my hand firmly in hers.

"You can hear me?" I mutter as I watch her sad face.

"Of course I can, my dear," she caresses my cheek, "why wouldn't I?"

I close my eyes, "I beg your pardon, my queen."

"No!" she calls, shaking my cheek, "you cannot sleep until Daemon has returned. He is but a fortnight nigh."

I hum, "she has been so lonely though."

"Who? Who has been so lonely."

"Visenya."

Rhaenyra pulls her hand away. One of the children gasps.

"I told her that I was not her mother, that you are," I sigh, "but she told me she wanted me to stay with her."

Rhaenyra is bewildered. For a moment she is unable to do nothing. She repeats the name she called. When she is not met with a reply, she takes another moment to collect her thoughts, "you cannot answer my daughter's call. Your duty is with me, not her."

Rhaenyra's face tenses when she does not get a reply yet again.

She calls out, one, twice. She shakes the hand in her grip, and remarks once more about Daemon, knowing that would do the trick, she knows it will, it has to.

A chill runs down her spine when she realizes was for nothing.

It is too late.

#daemon targaryen fanfic #daemon x reader #daemon targaryen x reader #house of the dragon fic #house of the dragon fanfic #daemon fanfic #daemon targaryen #house of the dragon #daemon angst #daemon targaryen angst #daemon x rhaenyra #hotd angst #daemon x reader x rhaenyra #daemon x rhaenyra x reader #targaryen angst #rhaenyra angst

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sugawarassoulmate · 2 years

Text

and i can be needy, way too damn needy

“oh, didn’t like what i had to say?” she must have noticed your reaction, feeding off your palpable anxiety. “both of them feel that way, you know. they only really hang out with you because your mothers are good friends. you think they would give you the time of day if they had a choice?”

atsumu too? no, that couldn’t be true. he’s always been your best friend. yeah, your moms were close and it was easy to go to their house after school while your parents were working, but atsumu’s smile always grew wide whenever you walked through the door. surely all of that had been genuine?

“that’s a lie…” you mumble, wishing for once you could find the strength to stick up for yourself. this doesn’t feel the same as when osamu teases you, that’s something you can navigate. this is uncharted territory. never has anyone else been so callous towards you. usually because one of the boys was there to step in—atsumu to offer a kind word and osamu to throw a punch or two.

but maybe that was the problem. maybe they didn’t want to waste their time saving you anymore.

this really wasn't meant to turn into anything! i've had this doc sitting on my computer for months thinking nothing was gonna come from it, but you guys really liked the snippet i shared so here it is.

if you were expecting a big confrontation between osamu's girlfriend and reader, sorry! my crybaby doesn't play that way but she does get her comeuppance 👀

also there wasn't going to be any smut in this fic but.......osamu's hot LOL

words: 3.8k

cw: fem!reader, insecurity, name-calling, fingering, jealousy, possessiveness, infidelity mention, minors dni

disclaimer: on this blog, we discuss and explore toxic relationships/situations/ just because i write about these themes does not mean i condone/support these types of relationships nor do i do them in my own personal life.

these are fictional characters in fictional scenarios and nobody should be taking real-life advice or mirror the actions of the characters in these stories!

You walked into the kitchen expecting to see Osamu with his head in the fridge as usual. Instead, you found something worse, his girlfriend leaning on the counter. A scowl on her face as soon as she locks eyes with you. It’s the first time you’ve ever been alone with her, without Osamu there to make a mean comment at your expense that makes her laugh sweetly, “Baby, you’re being so rude!” she’d say in her shrill voice.

But there’s none of that in her face at the moment. She crosses her arms, eyebrows furrowed as she gets a good look at you. “Of course, you’re here too,” she says, attempting to grumble under her breath but it’s definitely loud enough for you to hear.

You don’t really want to know what she meant, mumbling an apology in her direction before trying to shuffle past her to the stairs. She’s quicker than you, though, blocking your path and almost tripping you in the process. “What the hell are you doing here?” She gets in your face, demanding an answer. It’s only when she’s so close that you take in how pretty she actually is: full, pouty lips, a high arch in her eyebrows, sharp cheekbones, a straight nose.

She didn’t look like the kind of girl Osamu dated, but you figured that wasn’t a fair assumption for you to make. You didn’t really know what kind of girls Osamu liked. Whenever his brother brought the topic up, it usually ended with a punch to the gut.

“Atsumu and I have plans,” you said, hoping she’d leave you alone. She purses her lips, seemingly not satisfied with your response. “Could you—”

“Do you not have friends of your own? You’re always tagging along with the twins, aren’t you embarrassed?” her features twist into a smile, one of ridicule. You’re not sure how to respond, mouth clamping up as you hope for someone to come downstairs and save you. But you’re not that lucky and your silence only pisses her off even more. “Not even going to defend yourself? Samu’s right, you’re hopeless!”

Hopeless? Had Osamu said that about you? He’s said worse things to your face, sure, but never once did you think he spoke about you behind your back. Did he talk about you to her? Complain about you? Of course, you weren’t his favorite person in the world but did he actually feel that way?

You could feel your stomach churning, a bitter taste bubbling in the back of your throat. You had to get out of there, but your legs wouldn’t move. “Oh, didn’t like what I had to say?” she must have noticed your reaction, feeding off your palpable anxiety. “Both of them feel that way, you know. They only really hang out with you because your mothers are good friends. You think they would give you the time of day if they had a choice?”

Atsumu too? No, that couldn’t be true. He’s always been your best friend. Yeah, your moms were close and it was easy to go to their house after school while your parents were working, but Atsumu’s smile always grew wide whenever you walked through the door. Surely all of that had been genuine?

“That’s a lie…” you mumble, wishing for once you could find the strength to stick up for yourself. This doesn’t feel the same as when Osamu teases you, that’s something you can navigate. This is uncharted territory. Never has anyone else been so callous towards you. Usually because one of the boys was there to step in—Atsumu to offer a kind word and Osamu to throw a punch or two.

But maybe that was the problem. Maybe they didn’t want to waste their time saving you anymore.

“Please, do you think they’d say it to your face? To the crybaby that lives next door? They don’t want to hurt your feelings but someone needs to give you a reality check.”

“You don’t know anything about me,” you snap back, feeling the tightness in your chest. Even when Osamu was giving you his worst, he never made you feel so small.

She laughs humorlessly, taking a step forward into your personal space and leaning down. It feels so humiliating. “I know enough,” she claims. “Every time I’m with my boyfriend, he never shuts up about you. What makes you so damn special? Maybe he wouldn’t bitch about you so much if you just fucked off and found friends of your own.”

You wanted to tell her it wasn’t true. That you knew more about the twins than she did, but all the energy you had left disappeared. And, in turn, her words started playing in your head over and over. Maybe it was true. Maybe your friendship with the twins had run its course—or rather your friendship with one of them did. Osamu had never been your friend before, had he?

Right on cue, the tears started running down your face. You could imagine how red and distorted your face had become, your nose becoming runny and mouth growing dry. You’re rushing out of the room before she could say anything else, running towards your house and slamming the door behind you.

It’s only when you’re finally alone that you allow your sobs to get loud, to feel all your insecurities pouring out into the open. And it’s just so pitiful that your first reaction is to run to Atsumu and point out the person who made you feel this way. What’s most surprising is that, for once, it wasn’t his brother who was at fault. Not even Osamu could make you cry this much.

Your phone starts buzzing every few seconds and through tears, you read out the notifications on the screen.

From: ☀️tsumu☀️: did ya get here yet?

From: ☀️tsumu☀️: thought i heard the front door..

You want to reach out to him, to both of them. But you can’t even bother with a reply. Instead, you turn your phone off, and let your tears flow some more.

You’ve never avoided both of the twins before, but you couldn’t face them after that conversation. It was hard at first, having both of the boys blow up your phone for most of the day was pretty normal. The three of you were always together, whether at each other’s houses, going out, or running errands together. If that wasn’t the case, you’d be on the phone with one of them, usually Atsumu, for hours.

But for the first time, you haven’t been giving either of them your attention—you turned off notifications on your phone, started waking up an hour earlier so you wouldn’t have to walk with them, and you told your parents not to answer their calls.

“Did you get into a fight?” your mother had said. “What did Osamu do this time?” But you didn’t really have an explanation, the real story being far more embarrassing than anything else.

At school, it was harder to steer clear of them. You didn’t share many classes but you ended up moving your seat in the few you did, ducking out of the room as soon as the bell rang to avoid having to talk to them. Thankfully, volleyball kept them busy and limited your interactions.

There was one incident in the cafeteria where you nearly broke your-self isolation.

It was easy for Atsumu to find you in a crowded room, locking eyes with you across the cafeteria. The boys were there with Suna and Ginjima talking amongst themselves and being rowdy as usual. Atsumu waved in your direction, beckoning for you to sit with them and you nearly did. Until you saw her cuddled up to Osamu’s side, a disapproving look on her face.

Osamu’s face didn’t look that pleasant either. “Maybe he wouldn’t bitch about you so much if you just fucked off and found friends of your own…”

Suddenly feeling nauseous, you turned your back on the table. Grabbing your food, you make your way towards the roof and eat there. You could usually be alone up there, without being a bother to anyone else.

“Did Osamu do something to you?” Suna asked one day when you were in the library. It was safe to study there—the boys had been banned in their first year after one too many fights. Suna sat across from you, an unreadable look on his face as he watched you take notes. “You haven’t come to practice in a week.”

You figured there was no use in avoiding him and continued to keep doing work. “Why does everyone think he did something?”

“Something had to have happened. Tweedledee and Tweedledum said you haven’t spoken to them in a while,” he leans back in his chair with his feet up on the table. Even during the worst moments with Osamu, you’d still end up getting dragged to practice somehow. “They’ve been fighting a lot more than usual. Kinda annoying, honestly…”

That didn’t do much to quell your anxiety. It was always nasty when the boys fought but the idea of sitting in the bleachers with her after what she said made you queasy. Maybe it had nothing to do with you. The twins fighting wasn’t out of the ordinary, what made you so special?

“I’m really busy with school, okay?” you motion towards the mess of papers on the table you’re working at. But Suna looks unconvinced, probably thinking back to all the times you’ve either done homework or studied while watching the team practice. “Just don’t tell them that you spoke to me, please?”

One thing you love about Suna is that he doesn’t pry. If you’re not ready to talk about something, he’ll hold off on asking questions. “Fine,” he sighs, getting up. “Whatever it is, I’m sure you’ve got it figured out. But do something quick, ‘cause I don’t know how much patience Kita has left.”

You can’t explain the uneasiness in your gut while watching Suna leave the room. He was wrong, you didn’t have it figured out. There wasn’t a plan or an end goal in mind. But you couldn’t face the boys just yet. And, honestly, whatever was going on would figure itself out with or without you.

“No, no, no, no…” you groan to yourself fishing through your backpack for the tenth time, hoping your keys would somehow magically appear. There was a torrential downpour outside and your parents weren’t home or answering their phones. Like an idiot, you forgot your keys and certainly didn’t have an umbrella, your soaked uniform sticking to you, your body freezing and shivering.

The only people who had spare keys were the twins and their mother. “For emergencies,” said your own mother so long ago but they were never actually used for emergencies. All too often, the boys would barge into your home for snacks or drinks, but mostly for you. They’d pluck you from your bedroom—it didn’t matter if you were studying or sleeping, really—and drag you back to their house to watch a movie or settle an argument.

You asked your mother to tell them you weren't home or hid out in the library until it was too late for them to show up at your front door. But now, you were royally fucked and were running out of options. “Please be here…” you cried, wishing for your keys to end up in your hand.

“Are ya stupid? Yer gonna catch yer fuckin’ death out here!” It wasn’t hard to figure out who the voice belonged to. Osamu stormed to the front of your house, pissed off as he shoved you under his umbrella. “The fuck ya standin’ here for? Yer practically blue!”

You didn’t have the energy to argue or come up with some excuse to distance yourself from him. Not when your crybaby tears were threatening to come back again. “I don’t have my keys,” you sobbed, feeling cold and pathetic.

Osamu grabs you by the sleeve and hauled you next door to his house, cursing with every wet stomp of his feet. You’re pushed through the front entrance, already forming a puddle on the floor. The shoes by the door let you know their mother isn’t home either.

“Dude! Ya were right behind me, what took ya so long—” Atsumu stops dead in his tracks when he spots you, an unreadable emotion on his face but he’s quick to go into protective mode, running towards you and his brother. “What—”

“She forgot her fuckin’ keys,” Osamu grouches, sticking the umbrella in a stand near the door. He turns to you, looking as if he wants to bite your head off. “Go upstairs and take a hot shower. We’ll get ya clean clothes.”

“Aren’t you embarrassed?” her words are in your head again. The twins need to take care of you yet again because you’re too stupid to remember to carry a fucking key. “I just need my—”

“I don’t remember askin’ ya,” Osamu says, pushing you in the direction of their bathroom. “Go.” Your eyes flick to Atsumu but he’s in agreement with his twin. Embarrassed, you start heading upstairs, wishing for all of this to be over.

The boys left clean clothes for you outside the bathroom door after your shower. As expected, the shirt and pajama bottoms were much bigger, completely drowning you. Your wet clothes were thrown in the laundry room to be washed and dried. You’re too nervous to go into the living room and face them, but hiding upstairs would only make the situation worse.

You decide to just rip the band-aid.

Wringing the rest of the water with your towel, you walk in to see the boys talking amongst themselves. They stop when you enter the room, Atsumu looking apologetic as he leaves room on the couch for you to sit. A cup of tea sits on the coffee table, likely made by Osamu and you’re certain his anger would only get worse if you refuse.

It doesn’t take very long for Osamu to start interrogating you as soon as you sit down. “Why the fuck didn’t ya come here sooner?” he stands in front of you and his brother, grey eyes shooting daggers at yours.

“I thought I had them,” you lied, letting the cup warm your still cold hands. “I just didn’t want to bother you.”

“But why would ya think yer a bother?” This time Atsumu spoke, his hand reaching out to rub your shoulder. You appreciated the extra warmth. “Better yet, where have ya been lately? Ya stopped talkin’ to us out of nowhere.” You don’t miss the way his eyes glance over at Osamu. He probably thinks it’s his fault too.

“You think they would give you the time of day if they had a choice?” You’re so fed up at this point that her name falls from your mouth before you could stop yourself. Osamu quirks his brow, probably wondering what she has to do with any of this.

So you tell them—You mention all the nasty things she said to you, the cruel looks she’d shoot your way at school, and how you felt too stupid to tell them because a part of you really wondered if it was true. By the time you’re done, there are a few stray tears running down your face that you didn’t notice at first. A frustrated crybaby to the very end, you’re nothing if not consistent.

They’re both angry now, eyes locked with one another. “Did ya know about this?” Atsumu’s tone was accusatory.

“Of course I fuckin’ didn’t, why didn’t ya tell me?” Osamu asked, looking at you, but his brother is quick to come to your defense.

“It doesn’t matter when she told us, what matters is that it was yer girlfriend that said that shit to her.” He snaps, pulling you closer to his frame to soothe you. It doesn’t go unnoticed by Osamu, tongue poking his cheek. “What’re ya gonna do about it, Samu?”

The younger twin rolls his eyes takes a deep breath and walks out the room, choosing not to start a yelling match for once. Once you are alone, Atsumu wraps you in his arms for a hug. “Please don’t disappear like that on us again,” he says, refusing to let go. “I won’t be so nice next time.” You can hear the dumb grin on his face. You’ve missed him, both of them. Atsumu makes sure you finish the rest of your tea before walking off to set up the futon for you—he suggested you spend the night and didn’t take no for an answer.

You’re folding your uniform a few hours later after taking it out of the dryer. It should probably be ironed before you could wear it again but, thankfully, there’s no school tomorrow. While you’re there, you decide to fold the rest of the clean clothes there as well, knowing the boys’ mother would appreciate it.

The sweet silence was broken with Osamu’s heavy steps coming downstairs, screaming into his phone, unaware that you’re also in the room. “I don’t wanna hear it and don’t even think about comin’ here and gettin’ yer shit,” From all the years of knowing him, you’ve never heard his voice get like that. Even when he and Atsumu were fighting and he’s certainly never yelled at you like that.

“Get one of yer stupid friends to pick it up from Atsumu or Suna or I’m throwin’ it the fuck out. I’m blockin’ yer ass after that. Fuck off.” He hangs up without another word and that’s when he catches you kneeling in front of the dryer with piles of folded clothes. His face doesn’t soften as he gets down on your level, eyes scanning your form. “That’s Tsumu’s shirt…”

Staring down at the much too big shirt, you now realize that he’s right. You hadn’t really considered which of their shirts the boys gave since you were more concerned with having warm clothes than anything else. “I just grabbed whatever was there—” Osamu’s quick movements take you by surprise. Next thing you know, he has you pinned to the floor, hovering over you. It rattles you at first, but Osamu’s always been known to push you around whenever he felt like it. “Samu—”

“Don’t keep secrets from me. Ya should’ve told me as soon as she said that shit.” His knee is between your legs and you wonder if his intentions are pure. All of your clothes were soaked from the storm and all Osamu had to do to get to your more intimate parts was wander his hands just slightly underneath your shirt. It had been a while since he did anything like that. Osamu was loyal to the girls he dated. At least you think. So many times he’s trapped you for a quick kiss when nobody else was in the room, it’s possible that you had overlapped with his relationships a few times.

Maybe that’s why she hated you so much.

“If any of that bullshit was true,” Osamu continues, noticing the apprehension on your face. “I wouldn’t put up with yer sensitive ass.”

“I’m sorry…” you mumbled, fingers twisting between the fabric of your shirt. You felt stupid, letting your own insecurities and her words get to your head when you know none of them to be true. With all the years you’ve known them, you should have given the boys more credit. “I missed you.”

Finally, Osamu’s face relaxes. At this point, you wonder if he was actually upset with you this whole time, or with himself since it was his ex-girlfriend who had said caused all this. He leans in, pressing his lips to yours. It’s overwhelming, like all his kisses and it feels wrong to be so close just moments after he broke up with her, but it doesn’t stop you from deepening it.

“Such a pretty little crybaby, don’t know why I even bother with anyone else,” his voice is thick while his hands tug at your clothes. “Take this off. I’ll give ya my shirt in a bit, just lemme see ya.”

The sensation of your breasts being exposed to the cold laundry room to Osamu’s warm mouth wrapping itself around your nipple. A sharp whine leaves your lips but you stifle it, remembering that Atsumu is still upstairs. Osamu bites down on the sensitive bud, as one of his hands reaches past the sweats you had on, groaning when he realizes you aren’t wearing underwear.

Two of Osamu’s fingers plunge into your cunt without warning. It gets harder and harder to muffle your noises, eyes welling up with tears. “Wanna hear yer pretty noises, dummy. Been hidin’ from me too fuckin’ long. I deserve ‘em,” he growls, biting down hard on your breast just to force a high-pitched cry from you.

You pray that Atsumu is in his room. The thought of anyone seeing you in such a compromising position—half-naked and humping against Osamu’s hand—would be so humiliating but it has you whining and moaning even more.

“Can feel yer pussy clenchin’ around my fingers. Gonna make ya cum on the fuckin’ floor like a slut,” You can hear how wet you are, juices flowing down Osamu’s hand and it’s becoming too much. His thumb circles your clit as his fingers speed up. You pull him in for a kiss, burying your cries into his mouth. “Cum fer me, stupid girl. Missed this pretty pussy, need ya to cum.”

By the time he adds a third finger, you’re already too far gone. With a final, exasperated sob, you cum around Osamu’s hand. He stares, mesmerized by how sensitive your cunt is when he pulls his fingers out, your essence catching the light.

Your brain is too fuzzy to notice Osamu wiping his hand with Atsumu’s shirt, too busy trying to stop your legs from twitching. “Samu…”

“Don’t start yer whinin’, I’ll clean ya up,” he warns, grabbing a clean t-shirt to put on you. It’s one of his, of course. “Much better.”

“Don’t mind her, y/n,” Suna says after following your line of vision. The two of you were sitting at your regular lunch table a few days later when you felt someone staring daggers at you. Sure enough, there was Osamu’s ex looking back. Her usually pretty face now red and puffy. As horrible as she was, you still feel bad.

“Don’t mind who?” Atsumu asks as he and his brother join you after getting their food. Osamu feels your body tense up and is swift to see the reason why. Watching his eyes meet with hers brings back that unpleasant sinking feeling in your stomach for some reason.

But Osamu is quick to look away, an arm wrapping around his waist as he offers you some of his food. You sneak a brief glance back at her, just in time to see her storm out of the cafeteria.

It shouldn’t make you smile, but it does.

#haikyuu #haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader #osamu smut #osamu #osamu x reader #osamu miya smut #osamu miya x reader #osamu miya #miya osamu #miya osamu smut #miya osamu x reader #miya twins #haikyu x reader #haikyu smut #✨#✨osamu #bully!osamu

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herlondonboy · 1 year

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Beauty And The Beast

Pairings: Tyler Galpin x gn!reader / Wednesday Addams x twin!reader

Summary: Tyler helps you realise that you really don’t deserve to love.

Warnings: angst kind, manipulation. I write this whilst I was supposed to be tidying my room.

Word Count: 1.0k

You never believed that you deserved the love your parents got; the love you see in movies or love at all. You weren’t as smart or as cunning as Wednesday and you weren’t as funny or kind as Pugsley. You found yourself wanting to be your siblings. You wanted the the relationship that they had. You wanted Wednesday to protect you from bullies in a bittersweet manner, you wanted Pugsley to talk to you, period.

You didn’t know what happened or what went wrong, but Morticia and Gomez somehow ended up with you as a child. Maybe you were switched with someone else in the hospital because you didn’t feel like an Addams. You felt like an outcast in your own family. You liked colour, you weren’t abnormally pale, your touch was warm. You were you and that was enough for your family, so why wasn’t it enough for you?

When your sister was sent to Nevermore, and your parents decided it was best for you to tag along, you almost began to despise them. It only got worse when you found out you had a single room, closed off from the rest of the school. It was like you were being punished for no reason.

You were exiled by the world’s outlaws.

It didn’t take long for you to realise that you weren’t welcome there. You started taking long walks down to Jericho after your last period just to sit in the back booth of the Weathervane and write down all of the reasons you didn’t deserve to be an Addams. The book was nearly halfway full.

But one uneventful Thursday, a barista, the youngest one that you had seen working in here, walked over to you. “May I sit?” He asked, a kind smile on his face. You nodded hesitantly as he sat. God, how you wished you could turn back time and tell him no. “My name’s Tyler.”

“Hello, Tyler.” You smiled at him, looking down. You felt like if you looked any longer you’d drown in his eyes. “Uhm, y/n.” You held out your hand.

“Oh, I know.” Tyler said, shaking it. “I’m not stalking you, I just… we have to put names on the cups, remember?” He said at your raised eyebrow. You chuckled slightly and he cleared his throat. “I know that we don’t know each other, but i was hoping that we could get to know each other.”

“I didn’t think it was so easy to make me cringe.” You joked, smiling at his blush. “I’d love to get to know you, Tyler.”

“Oh! Great, uh, great, yeah.” He stammered. It was as if he was expecting a swift ‘no.’ “Uhm, here. My number.” He handed you a piece of paper. “Call me. O-or text me, whatever you prefer. Uh, bye.”

From then on, your alone time at the Weathervane became your Tyler Time. Your notebook hadn’t been touched in weeks and there was a predominant smile etched onto your face. For the first time, you actually felt like you deserved to be loved. Tyler saw what no one else did. Tyler saw you. Not y/n Addams - not Wednesday Addams’ abnormal twin. You.

Tyler had asked you to be his date for the Rave’N and you said yes. It was a great nice. Excluding how the normies put red paint in the sprinklers and drenched everyone in a blood-like substance; how Tyler ran away towards the end; and how Wednesday’s friend was attacked by the monster she was hunting.

The first, and last, time you kissed Tyler, something happened. You blacked out and then suddenly you were watching Tyler turn into a beast and murder Kinbott, your therapist. And then you watched him attack Eugene Otinger. And then you watched him talking to someone about how you would help him get insider information on Wednesday. It was awful, like everything you had gone through to allow yourself to love was wasted. You gasped awake in Tyler’s arms as he looked into your eyes, concern written all over his face and you wondered. Was any of it ever real?

“I’m okay.” You mumbled. “I just- I need to go.” You rushed out of the Weathervane. Tyler watched until you were out of his view. You sobbed all the way to Nevermore, hugging yourself as you made your way to your sister’s room.

Wednesday looked almost alarmed when she saw the state you were in. “y/n?” She asked and her voice made you break down.

“It’s Tyler.” You said, standing awkwardly in front of her. You’d kill for a hug right now, but this is Wednesday that you’re talking about. “I kissed him and had this vision thing and saw him attacking Eugene Otinger and I-“ You choked on your words, finding it so hard to breathe. “I thought he really liked me too. I thought… I thought that I deserved love, but it’s all my fault.”

“y/n, nothing is your fault.” Wednesday said softly.

You shook your head. “It is. I told him things about you, us, the school, because I thought I could trust him.” You clenched your eyes shut, sadness dissipating into anger. “I’m so stupid. Of course he didn’t love me. Stupid, stupid.” You began hitting your head in frustration.

“y/n, stop.” Wednesday said, but you didn’t. She grabbed your hands and pulled you into a hug.

You cried into her shoulder. “I want to go home, Wednesday. Home was bad, but it was so much better than this.” You told her. “I loved him and he-"

“y/n, Tyler manipulated you and conditioned you into thinking about him like that. He used you to get to me. You are not at fault here. You let yourself believe that you can be loved, y/n. That’s good. I’m sorry that I wasn’t here for you.”

It wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t your fault. You could love again if you let yourself, but would you?

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steddieunderdogfics · 2 months

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This week’s writer spotlight feature is: @thefreakandthehair! With thirty-nine works in the Steve/Eddie and Stranger Things tags on Archive of our Own!

In an underdogfics first, we have TWO nominators!

Our first nominator recommends the following works by @thefreakandthehair:

this is my month, I can feel it. october, baby!

never been afraid of any deviation.

scar-crossed lovers.

the answers are all inside of this.

Our second nominator, @sidekick-hero, recommends the following works by @thefreakandthehair:

over the hills and far away

meeting you was coming home.

make no plans and none can be broken.

rounding third, sliding home.

what's mine is yours (to leave or take)

Lex's brain is full of very creative scenarios, reading her writing is like reading an anthology of short stories but it's with all of your favorite characters! You get to see what they'd do in this AU or that AU, I love the exploration. It's like she's made a stew and it's simmering on the stove and you realize you're so hungry for stew as soon as you see it. <3 -- anonymous

Lex writes characters that come to life on the page while you're reading her stories. It makes it so easy to get invested in them, to feel with them and root for them to get their happy ending. She's one of these authors I would follow anywhere, any trope, any setting and universe, I am here for it. So I think more people should get to find her stories and be treated to the magic. -- @sidekick-hero

Below the cut, @thefreakandthehair answered some questions about their writing process and some of their recommended work!

Why do you write Steddie?

How can I possibly give just one reason! These two burrowed themselves into my brain like little gerbils with no hope of ever getting them out. I mean, was I supposed to hear ‘dontcha big boy?’ and be normal about it? But in all seriousness, they’re two sides of the same coin and those oppositions in character are super fun to play with!

What’s your favorite trope to READ?

It was tough to choose, but friends to lovers keeps coming up!

What’s your favorite trope to WRITE?

If I have to choose a particular trope, hurt/comfort would be the closest fit, but in the sense of healing past hurts together as a unit.

What’s your favorite Steddie fic?

This question sent me into an existential crisis and the best I could do is narrow it down to three, and even that was nearly impossible. In no particular order: We’ll Know For The First Time by KikiZ; carve your name into my chest by hexiewrites; and more recently, Among the Wildflowers by ParadimeShifts.

Is there a trope you’re excited to explore in a future work but haven’t yet?

Rivals to Lovers in my football AU! I’ve been so excited to get moving on that one.

What is your writing process like?

Oh, I wish I had a better one. I start with a skeleton outline, pop on some music, and then pick and choose which part of the outline sparks joy in that moment. I rarely, if ever, write chronologically so I just write what feels good in the moment and then go back with a scalpel to create connective tissue.

Do you have any writing quirks?

Definitely writing out of order, I think! And if there’s one thing about me, it’s that someone is gonna have an introspective moment looking up at the stars. Someone told me it’s like my calling card and they’re not wrong.

Do you prefer posting when you’ve finished writing or on a schedule?

I like a bit of both. I like to post on a schedule for multi-chapter fics but only after it’s either completely done or mostly done so that there’s no pressure to it.

Which fic are you most proud of?

Over The Hills And Far Away incorporated some personal bits of my past that were equal parts cathartic and difficult to write at times, so I’d have to say that one! It’s really satisfying to take experiences that you regret or that didn’t end the way you’d hoped and give them a different ending in fiction.

How did you get the idea for never been afraid of any deviation?

The Eddie Month prompt for that day! Me and my co-mod for the event, nostalgicbones, included Bad Reputation by Joan Jett as a prompt and as I was listening to it, it got me thinking about how Eddie is someone who cares for those in less than ideal situations— maybe even to the point of weaponizing his own bad reputation to protect someone. In this case, that was Steve!

When writing the answers are all inside of this, what was something you didn’t expect?

I didn’t expect it to become multiple chapters! That one is part of my So Much For Stardust series (that I haven’t forgotten about, I’ve just been busy with big bangs) so it was based on The Pink Seashell interlude from the album. I still don’t know exactly how a 1-minute interlude turned into a 15k multi-chapter fic, but it was super fun to let go off the rails!

What inspired scar-crossed lovers?

Also a So Much For Stardust series fic, the first one in the series, actually. I heard Heaven, Iowa for the first time and wrote this based on that song in a day. My brain just kept rotating it around like a rotisserie chicken until I wrote it.

What was your favorite part to write from scar-crossed lovers?

This is ironic because I’m not an angst-writer by nature, but writing about the slow deterioration of Eddie’s van as a symbol for the passage of time was really fun to do. Bittersweet, but it was one of those things that I didn’t realize I was doing until I was in the middle of it and once I realized, I just carried it throughout!

How do/did you feel writing never been afraid of any deviation.?

Excited! It was the first time that I wrote pre-s4 steddie (which is wild that in two years, I just wrote that for the first time last fall?) and it was so fun to do!

What was the most difficult part of writing the answers are all inside of this.?

Probably balancing the kids’ voices in the first chapter while still creating tension between Steve and Eddie.

Do you have a favorite scene and/or line from any of your fics?

It isn’t one of the fics listed here, but in no better version I could pretend to be tonight, I loved writing the line “Something about Steve feels like home, and Eddie is only familiar with houses.” Hurt/comfort, my beloved.

Do you have any upcoming projects or fics you’d like to share/promote?

I’m planning on taking a break from big bangs for a bit to focus on some super neglected WIPs, so there are a few upcoming fics I’m excited about! My Football AU, an ASMR Artist!Eddie x Insomniac!Steve AU, and I’m working on a fic called Pickup Note with sidekick-hero and firefly-party that I cannot wait to dive into fully.

Outside of these questions, Is there anything YOU would like to add?

Just thank you so much for all that you do with this blog! The ship truly exploded overnight and there are so many incredible stories that I’ve completely missed just because they’ve fallen through the cracks. I really appreciate what you’re doing here and the undertaking that it’s been!

Thank you to our author, @thefreakandthehair, and our nominators, anonymous and @sidekick-hero! See more of @thefreakandthehair works featured on our page throughout the day!

Writer’s Spotlight is every Wednesday! Want to nominate an author? You can nominate them here!

#steddie #steddie fic recs #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #stranger things #steddieunderdogfics #writer's wednesday #writer's spotlight #steddie writers

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hrtsgyu · 11 days

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last night with heeseung.

“hey, you up?” he asks you through the phone call. “yeah what's wrong?” you could only assume he wants to do something since it's 3am. It's not completely out of the ordinary.

“look outside.” you got up from your cozy bed to look outside your window. “look up, the stars are so bright tonight. don’t you think?” you can hear the wind through the phone. “yeah they’re pretty. where are you?” you look down and around trying to see if he’s near. “right around the corner, let's go somewhere yeah?” “can’t tonight heeseung i have work in the morning.” “on a saturday really?” he sounds disappointed. “im sorry, we can hang another-” “just for a little bit? please?”

it's been like this for about a month. he used to ask to hang out during the day but these days it’s only been at night. always wanting your company, making you go to whatever concert he can sneak the both of you in. you liked heeseung, he always flirted with you but you couldn’t tell if its just him or if it was only with you. he made you feel special though, safe too. what you had for him, you never had for anyone else.

“sure, but only for a little bit.” “yes! im parked outside your house.” “coming!” you ended the call and put on his hoodie that you stole from him when it suddenly got cold one night when the two of you were walking around the town center and he gave it to you.

you silently snuck out of the house and into his car. “hey pretty.” “shut up.” he chuckles. “Is that my hoodie?” “no..” you mumbled. “right..” you felt him staring at you and got flustered. “can you drive now?” he snickers a little. “okay, okay!” he puts his hands up in defeat and starts driving.

[3:30]

the both of you finally arrive at the park after picking up some junk food that’ll definitely hurt later. he puts on music as the two of you sit on the blanket that was in his car.

“what are you doing after work today?” he breaks the silence. “napping, since someone decided to wake me up at 3am.” you tilt your head and give him a fake smile. “that someone must be the most talented, amazing, awesome person ever.” “right?” you grab his phone to see the time when his phone buzzed. “someone texted you.” “who?” “someone named sooyoung.” he flinched a little. “oh shit i forgot to text her back.” he grabs the phone from your hand, quickly replying to whoever sooyoung is.

you’re a little sad to be honest but you don't let it show. “sooyoung?” you ask in your normal tone. “just someone im talking to.” you feel your own heart sadden. Is that even possible? “oh really? for how long?” keeping your composure. “like a month? she’s super hot, and actually has a personality.”

oh. is that why he started contacting you at night.. “have you taken her on any dates?” “like 3 i think.” “hmm.” “but we’ve been hanging non-stop, everyday it’s just us.” your heart is breaking. “she must be really fun then.” “oh yeah for sure. but i was going to ask you if you were free after work so that we can go to another concert, i was going to bring her along so the two of you could meet.” “ohh umm i have plans with jake after work. well after my nap.” “i understand, maybe another time then?” he gives you his big sad bambi eyes. “just let me know.”

[3:50]

you both sit in silence, enjoying the stars and the music. heeseung closes his eyes when he feels the breeze. you turn to look at him and feel your heart ache. how you wish you could be his.

“you okay?” he brings you back from your sorrow. “yeah.. this lighting suits you.” you take out your phone and snap a few pictures of him. “send it to sooyoung.” you say as you airdrop the photos to him. “nah this is instagram story worthy.” he replied, opening the app, posting it and tagging you. he turns off his phone, placing his attention on you. he scoots over to you and puts his arm around your waist pulling you closer to him. the both of you stare into the distance.

your mind full of him and his mind full of another girl.

HAIII!!!! i was about to delete this account until i had something in my inbox and there was such a sweet anon :( i made this quick little drabble about heeseung from enhypen. he's so kind and he would not do this irl, at least i hope but given that he has a toy story collection and kept his english name evan hidden for years because he didn't want engenes to feel bad.. yeah thats my man.. anyways im back now! and i was in a little of a writers block but idk something about shoegaze makes me want to write. speaking of shoegaze, i totally recommend listening to beauty school by deftones while reading. love you all esp you anon tysm for bringing me back to writing. u guys should totally leave suggestions in my inbox as well i appreciate anything !! HAVE A GOOD DAY/NIGHT!!! :3

#enhypen #enha x reader #enha #enhypen heeseung #enha imagines #enha scenarios #enha drabbles #heeseung #lee heesung x reader #heesung enhypen #lee heeseung #heeseung drabbles

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dsireland86 · 1 month

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Take Me First PT. 2 (Never Know)

"Lying Is Hard But The Truth Comes Out Anyway" The Grey

A regretful mistake, a car accident, and a baby. God didn't listen to Noah when he begged him to take him first the night of the accident. God had other plans it seemed; plans that brought Noah down to his knees cursing, crying, and praying. In time he began to believe he was nothing but a lost soul trying to find his happiness in the ugly world he lived in, until... she found him and began to return the lost parts of him, piece by piece, he'd thought he'd lost forever.

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is the long awaited 2nd part to a story that was never meant to have a second part. But I'm very thankful to friends who encouraged me and highly suggested that I write one. I love how I came to tie this cherished story that began with three words from a song into my main two stories. It took some brainstorming, but in the end I don't think it will disappoint. To the ones I've tagged and were expecting the second part, I hope it's what you hoped it would me. Let me know!

TAGS: @lma1986, @myownthoughts12, @xslavicprincess, @foliosgirl, @glitterydeputyshepherdwagon, @jilliemiw86, @sthnog, @lookwhatitcost

Never Know

“Show me you're better off without me/ Choking on every word you said, we'll see, we'll see / Don't breathe another word about me I'll leave and you can finally rest in peace, we'll see”

Noah,

The Letter She

Never Meant To Send

Noah:

By the time you read this, I'll be gone. You have to understand that it's better for both of us this way if I just vanish from your life and wipe your slate, your consciousness completely clean. Once you're finished with this letter, I guarantee you will hate me and loath just the thought of me. My name will become a bitter poison on your tongue and the tongues of those who will no longer be my family because of their loyalty to you. You'll never want to breathe my name, let alone any other words about me, to anyone. I'm warning you now, Noah, what I'm about to tell you is going to ruin you. It's going to break your heart so badly that you're probably going to wish you were dead. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I'm doing this to you, but it's the only way. You have to know the truth about what happened during those three days in Montana on that last tour we were on together; you deserve to know because it was the moment that everything changed for us. You're better off without me, and in time, you'll see. In time, you'll be able to rest in peace.

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

“I didn't want to finish the letter. Knowing she was already gone was enough, and reading it, having it spelled out in front of me would’ve only made things worse. But I chose to finish it anyway but regretted the instant I did. I swear I could feel myself slowly slipping away as her words started to bring out the worst in her that I never knew existed."

I rested my forehead against the back of her shoulder.

“I'm so sorry. I can't imagine what you were feeling. Being abandoned is hard, but the lonely place it takes you to is worse.” “You would know, wouldn't you,” I said while playing with her fingers. She leaned back against my chest while sitting between my legs. Turning her head at just the right angle, she glided the tip of her nose softly along my jawline that filled with a deep yearning to be inside her again. “Not the same way you do.” I shivered when her lips left a trail of soft kisses on my skin. “Read me more, please. I want to know everything,” she urged. I sighed, and even though I really didn't want to, I knew sharing this part of my life was important for us. So, I continued.

—-------------------------------------------------

“Lying in between the memories choking me, and I don't know which way to go, but I'm okay to never know”

The night you told me the truth about cheating on me, it broke me, but not in the way you might think. I was angry, full of guilt, relief, sorrow, and regret that created a huge mess of emotions I didn’t know how to deal with. Running was my only option. I had to escape the pain of knowing how horribly I'd hurt you and you didn't even know it. Noah, you were brave enough to be honest with me about what you did. You admitted your guilt and how ashamed it made you feel. You truly believed you'd hurt me and watching the way it tore your mind and heart apart left me in agony. I wanted to tell you the truth then, but I just couldn't bring myself to, so I took the coward's way out and ran away.

I called Jolly and cried to him. He couldn't understand anything I was saying, let alone any idea of what I was talking about, but he did his best to console me anyway. The guilt I felt, knowing what I’d done to his best friend just made everything numb and blur together. The way I was driving I didn’t see the headlights of the other vehicle in my lane. Jolly was still on the phone when I screamed right as the collision happened. That was the last thing I remembered before I woke up in the hospital. So, what is the truth that was too hard for me to tell you even though I was given the chance to say many times? Noah, I hope you're sitting down because what I'm about to say is going to be the death of whatever peace your mind had about me.

—-------------------------------------------------

Noah:

“Noah?” Her soft voice calling to me made me lower my head and when her hand collided with my cheek, her touch brought me back to reality. The past wasn't real, but she was, and so was the feeling of her naked body against mine. Turning herself around so that her legs were on either side of me and her arms were resting on my shoulders, she leaned in and kissed me, slipping her tongue inside my mouth little by little. She was making me so hard and I knew she could feel me between her legs, pressed tightly against that sweet soft spot of hers I loved so much. I couldn’t control the constant twitching that was happening each time she purposely pushed herself into me either.

"She knew exactly what she was doing to you, and that’s what hurt you the most. I'm sorry she hurt you,” her voice whispered in my ear before she took a little bit of it in her mouth. “Ughh, fuck baby,” I moaned, squeezing her hips tighter and tugging her closer to me. “That’s what happens,” she said, brushing her breast up against me, her perky nipples grazing across my skin, making it scream. “You let people in and they destroy you. But I won’t.” She sat back and looked at me, the look in her eyes nearly making me cum. She had me wound up so tight that I swallowed hard when she pushed herself into me again and her warm, shaky breath washed over my face. “You deserve so much more than you believe you do, Noah.” Slipping her hands beneath the waistband of my box-briefs, I lifted my bottom up and she slid them down my legs, tossing them aside, retaking her spot over me. “I’ll give you the world, if you want it,” she admitted, laying her mouth on mine and taking my lips to hers as if she owned them; she did. “The moon, the fucking stars. Anything you ask, it’s yours. I’m yours. You can have all of me,” she confessed through a shaky, tear filled voice.

I pulled her way to look at her and my heart felt like it had busted through my chest. She had tears streaming down her cheeks, but the prettiest smile on her lips. I sat up and kissed her tears away tasting their saltiness. “I want all of it,” I admitted, brushing some hair out of her face. “I want all of you, but not just what you let the world see. I want all the broken, busted up parts too; the parts that make you, you. I meant it when I said I would fight the battle for you. I would, I still will. If I have you, then you have all of me too.” She started to cry and I pulled her into me as she laid her head on my shoulder. I fucking loved this girl in my arms more than I ever thought possible. More than the girl in the letter, and that scared me.

After a few moments of silence had passed and I was about to continue reading, but the warmth from her hand found my hard cock. Slowly she ran her hand down my shaft, then back up, the grip she had applying the perfect pressure needed to stimulate what I was dying for on the inside. I laid my head back against the couch, zoning into nothing but the feeling of what her hand was doing. The faster she went the harder her grip became and reminded me of what being inside her felt like; heaven. I found her entrance between her wet folds and quietly slipped a finger inside her warm sex enjoying the way she melted into my touch and sucked in a quick breath, followed by a beautifully moan that filled the room. I felt her wetness coat my fingers, making me feel like I had all the power over her I wanted. The truth was though, she was the one with all the power. “I need to be inside you, now.” I ordered. She didn't hesitate to obey but instead shifted enough so that her pussy was aligned perfectly with my hard length.

“Noah, look at me,” she commanded and I listened. Her eyes were vibrant and full of something indescribable, something that I could never put into words; but I felt it and I knew she did too. “I fucking love you.” It slipped out before I could stop myself and I was scared I crossed a line. But her smile took that feeling away. It was genuine, and made me feel the exact way, if not more, I felt when I first saw her. “I love you too; all of you.” She pushed into me and took all of me into her and I watched her expression change as soon as I filled her. Her tight, wet walls closed in on my throbbing cock now buried deep inside her, searching for that special spot that was going to pull all the pretty cries and moans from her that I loved to hear. I gripped her hips, sighing once she began to move slowly, with her hands placed firmly on my chest. But I wanted more and I knew she did too. “I want you to grind on me, baby, ride me till you're satisfied. Ride me till you cum.”

That seemed to be all she needed. Soon I had her crying and moaning so loudly that she dug her nails deep into my skin, squeezed me tighter with her thighs, and let my name fall from her lips like a sacred prayer. It was beautiful. She was beautiful. She pulled my hands to her small breasts, indicating to me she wanted stimulation and I all too willing obliged her. I took each nipple between my finger and thumb, squeezing them until she cried. Once hard and perky, I dragged my tongue lazily over the soft, delicate skin, circling and lapping every part until taking it in my mouth. Her moans pulled my organism closer and I knew I wasn't going to last much longer. Luckily, I didn't have too. Her hands found the back of my head, holding me in place while she fucked me slow and gently and I got her off by sucking my favorite parts of her. “Noah, baby,” she didn't finish her sentence, but she didn't have to. I looked up, grinning at the face I saw. With eyes closed, she was in perfect ecstasy. “Are you gonna cum for me, Princess.” She didn't say anything, just moaned and nodded. “Cum for me then baby, let it go and give us both what we want.”

“Speaking in languages we can’t read, no need for you to spell it out for me/ Swallowed up and I’ spit you out, like a drug that just wouldn’t stay down"

Her lips crashed into mine and our tongues danced as she came undone all over me and I quickly followed. It wasn't loud, it wasn't messy; it was just us, falling apart for one another together quietly. It was love making in its purest form and in that moment with her I realized the difference between straight fucking with foreplay and making love and how they were very different. We weren’t each other's first. She had a fucked up ex and I had many experiences that left me feeling used. But what she and I had just shared had so many emotions involved, ones that I didn't even know I could feel anymore. She pulled them out of me somehow and allowed me to willingly feel what I had buried away. They were tangled together, knotted and rooted in the dirt of my past. But, thanks to the beautiful human in my arms, for the first time in my life I felt the difference and wasn't afraid to feel them. She made me feel so fucking alive and I loved it.

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

Montana was beautiful, Noah, and the idea of visiting it with you was a dream come true. I'll never forget when you came home and told me that it was on the list of states the band was playing. Your excitement was contagious and the way your eyes sparkled and lit up your entire face will forever haunt me. It was one of the last times we were truly happy together. Those three days haunt me, Noah. They hold the worst, but also the best memories. So here it goes… the whole truth.

The first show day went smoothly; you remember I'm sure. We all went out and had a small celebration in that little country bar where Folio rode the mechanical bull until he bled… like seriously bled. I thought I was going to pass out seeing all the blood from his arm. The day of the second show, however, was utter chaos and hell. Everyone woke up late, the venue wasn't unlocked when we got there, and some of the equipment malfunctioned. You were miserable and because you were miserable, so was everyone else. I tried to help, but now know how worse I actually made it for you. And the moment you yelled at me in front of not just the crew but the guys too, I knew things were going to be different between us. It wasn't that you yelled at me, Noah, it was what you said that was the slap to my face. You accused me of being selfish and too self conceited to understand what you were going through, and you know what? You were right. I was, I am those things. And to prove I was, I decided to get back at you in my own way; the way I regret now more than anything.

After storming out of the venue and turning my phone off, I found a bar away from the venue, away from every memory of you. I wanted you out of my head, but mostly out of my heart because I was hurting. So, the first guy who sat down next to me and bought me a few rounds was it. He was the one I chose to make my biggest mistake with. He took me back to his hotel room, which ironically was in the same hotel as ours, you were just one floor above me. I was too drunk to worry about anything, not even caring if the receptionist recognized me.

Noah, I will save you the details of what I did with that man in that hotel room that night. It wasn't at all what I thought it would be, and in the end he left me hurting way more than when I started out. Not just emotionally, but physically too. Thankfully there were no marks on my body, yet, but the bruises would show the following day. I lied and said you did them to me and the look on your face was devastating. I felt like a piece of shit. Maybe I was. No, I know I was. I should burn in hell for what I did to you; what I said to you. You didn't deserve it. But the worst was yet to come when the events of the night you fucked some girl who wasn't me happened and you found out I was pregnant. Nicholas said at first you were too shocked, but when it was time for me to leave the hospital, Matt said it was all you could talk about; how you were going to be a dad and how you had so much faith that the baby would be the thing to tie us back together after your actions ruined us. It wasn't you who ruined us, Noah, it was me, but I couldn't tell you that. Not now. Not with a baby on the way. So, I kept my silence and avoided you as much as I could, using your cheating as the excuse. And I lied to you every day up until… well you know when.

Losing the baby was never, ever the intention, that, I promise, you can believe. I never wanted any harm to come to my baby. But when I woke up last month at seventeen weeks pregnant in a pool of blood, I knew it was over. The lies could stop, the truth could come out and everything would be okay. Except it wasn't, was it? Losing the baby was too hard for you. It made you do things you regret doing and I regret watching, knowing I had the power to stop it all. I know the feeling of loss is still very raw in your heart. You're wounded and reading this letter, knowing I'm long gone, soon to be nothing but a distant memory you'd do anything to forget, is going to throw salt on that wound, but I think it's time for me to help you put your demons to rest.

Noah, the baby…. the baby was never yours to begin with. I mean, honestly, think back to the first time we had sex after that fight. Think…. and you'll remember. If you don't let me help. You wore a condom, Noah and you filled it, but I lied to you and told you it broke because I was scared. The night I spitefully killed us in every way possible was the night I conceived another man's child.

So, you see, none of it was your fault after all. It was mine all along. Did I feel guilt? Yes. Remorse? No. Not until now. Now that I’m walking away from you, I feel every bit of remorse possible, but it’s too late now, isn’t it. The you I knew and loved is gone and so is the girl you knew. And that’s the difference between us, Noah. You felt remorse and it made you so vulnerable.

I hope the next girl you fall in love with is good to you. I hope she is never afraid of your darkness or the demons who dance in your eyes sometimes. I remember the time when you thought no one could ever love you if you revealed what lurks inside you. You’ve always been different, Noah, you know that and how could anyone understand that? But I hope she understands and is never afraid to follow you into your darkness so that she can learn to love the beast that’s inside. I tried to, but in the end I realized that sometimes, true love comes in the form of a loving demon, or a protective monster, or even a dark angel who sits and waits patiently for you to arrive. You are all those things Noah; and I hated you for it. I’m sorry I hated you, because now I know that you were the only one to ever, truly love me.

With All My Love,Always

Sarah

—-------------------------------------------------

Noah:

I woke up, flat on my back, head off the pillow, but the blanket over top of me. As my vision cleared, Sophie was nowhere to be seen. My heart started pounding, thinking maybe she regretted last night; the things we did, the things I said. Was it all too much and she felt pressured or overwhelmed? I started to panic, running my hands over my face, trying to convince myself everything was okay, but it didn't help. I sat up, looking around for my shirt only to remember that I'd used it on Sophie, making me remember the corner I threw it in; it was still there.

I needed to find Sophie and make sure everything was good between us, especially now that she knew the truth about me and Sarah. I needed to know if she was still willing to commit herself to me, to us, with this kind of baggage attached, but first I needed a shower. My stomach suddenly hurt, the anxiety nipping away on the inside and it felt like there was a giant hole in me. I needed to fill that hole. I need my girl.

#noah sebastian #noah sebastian fanfic #noah sebastian fanfiction #bad omens fanfiction #bad omens band #bad omens #bad omens cult #matt dierkes #jolly karlsson #nicholas ruffilo #nick folio

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au-starss · 2 years

Text

IS IT FAKE ?

༄ synopsis… you both agree to engage in a fake relationship, but it turns into so much more

༄ characters… amber, ayaka, ayato, childe, diluc, itto, jean, kaeya, kazuha, scaramouche, thoma, xiao, yoimiya, zhongli x gn!reader

༄ tags… high school au, fake dating, feelings development, petnames, happy ending, angst on a couple of them, teenage love

༄ words… n/a

༄ author’s thoughts… ello everyone hi pls have this and stay tuned for a collab coming ur way real soon :)

amber !

Your energetic best friend has always been there for you, especially when you ask favours of her

So when you ask her if she could be your fake girlfriend to scare off a girl, she was more than happy to oblige and help

Word got around that the two of you were in a relationship

Sure enough, the guy that was harassing you backed off

You both acted like the perfect couple everywhere you could

Everyone envied your relationship and wished they were you both

But after a month, you broke up like originally planned

Even then, Amber couldn’t get you out of her head and knew she had to try

“Everything we did together was so amazing. I want that with you. Genuinely.”

ayaka !

She was completely onboard with the idea when you asked

You needed a partner to impress your family and she was the perfect candidate

First, you made a big scene at school with asking her out on a date

After everyone knew, you began the fake couple's treatment; holding hands, giving gifts, and talking about how amazing each of you is to everyone else

You even took her to your family dinners so they could be impressed with your relationship

But, soon enough, you both grew more genuine with your affectionate actions to each other

Both of you were so confused on your true feelings, until Ayaka's brother gave her a little nudge in the right direction

Her confession was heartfelt and full of promise

"I didn't mean for things to grow like this, but I promise that I will show you nothing but the best if we're together."

ayato !

You came to your best friend with an emergency request, saying you needed a fake boyfriend for a little bit

You were being consistently asked out by a secret admirer, and wished for it to stop

Ayato was more than willingly to be of help, and you both agreed to the deal

As time progressed, you both pretended to be dating each other in the presence of others

Ayato played his role a little too well, leaving you small love notes and beautiful cheek kisses during class

People became jealous of how dreamy your relationship with you best friend was

But even after the notes from the admirer stopped coming, you didn't want what you had with Ayato to stop

And one day, he revealed the same thing to you as you went on a drive to a beautiful cliff

"What started out as fake has turned into something real. And I wish to keep this reality forever if you would let me, dearest [Name]."

childe !

He was the perfect canidate for a boyfriend; jock, popular, and good looking

You both came to the agreement to fake date to try and make others jealous and get who you want to be with

He actually proposed it to you after his ex-girlfriend broke up with him, and you obliged to try and catch eyes

Ajax treated you like royalty; in front of people and in private

He became really overprotective of you

Like, if he saw anyone flirting with you, he would immediately pull you close and tell them to back off

You ended up getting into an argument about how he was acting and he began questioning his true feelings towards you

Eventually, he pulled you aside to talk and finally asked you properly to be with him

“I’m sorry for the way I acted before, but I truly want to be your real boyfriend and protect you. Will you let me?”

diluc !

He was your childhood best friend who knew what high expectations you had to live up to

So when your dad suggested the two of you get together, you agreed to do it

But only for appearances

He acted like the perfect boyfriend and truly did care for you

Even in private he always made sure you were good and comfortable

Then, he began talking about someone he possibly could ask out

Well, jealousy overtook you and you broke things off with him

A few days later and he was at your doorstep in the pouring rain and out of breathe

“Please, I don’t want anyone else. I want you. Only you, darling.”

itto !

Arataki Numero Uno; The best fake boyfriend around!

You needed to get your crush’s attention and he was the best candidate

So of course he agreed when you asked

He treats you like the absolute royalty you are at school

Like, everyone else is so insanely jealous

As the days went on, he grew more attached to being your boyfriend

But then, you broke things off like planned and thanked him for his help

It took poor Itto two weeks to realize it, but he had truly fallen in love with you

"Listen.. I don't do this often, but you're really special, you know? There's no way I could even think of letting you go be with someone else."

jean !

Your responsible friend that your parents absolutely adore

They were continously pressuring you to find someone to date, so you asked her to fake it with you for a while

She agreed to help you and did her best to act the part

You mainly showed her the ropes and initiated a lot of the more physical aspects of it all

The two of you faked it and everyone around you both truly believed you were dating

Including Jean herself

So when you brought up the topic of ending things, she got really stiff and quiet

You frowned and told her that things didn't have to be this way and she agreed.

"The past few months have been truly incredible, and I don't want that to end."

kaeya !

He was so insanely popular at school; everybody wanted a piece of him

He just so happened to be your next door neighbor

And when you came and asked Kaeya for help with becoming popular, you both began fake dating

He introduced you to his friends and treated you like royalty

You showed up to his games to support him and even went out to diners after with everyone

He'll admit that he caught himself staring and smiling at you stupidly one of those nights; but he won't admit it to you

Kaeya's feelings for you only grew and so did yours, but both of you were scared

And so, after one of his winning games, he ran to you on the sidelines and confessed in front of everyone on his team

"You mean the world to me, and I have fallen in love so hard. Let's keep what we have, yeah?"

kazuha !

He was your quiet neighbor you often saw around under a tree at school

When your friends were trying to match you with someone you didn't like, you told them you already had a boyfriend

Desperate, you went and asked him and he agreed as long as you introduced him to new people

As your deal continued on, you became the couple everyone wanted to be

You were as convincing as could be, and soon enough you two were the talk of the school for a picture perfect couple

Kazuha ended up growing a huge liking to you, and became more flustered at doing coupley acts in front of people

Then, you kissed each other in private one night, and he ran out because of how overwhelmed he was

Soon, he was back at your window at midnight with a huge confession of his love

"My intention was never to hurt you. I don't want our relationship to be based on a deal anymore. I genuinely want to go out and love you, my dear."

scaramouche !

The school delinquent who just couldn't stay out of trouble

He came to you asking if you could agree to date him for show

He accordingly told his friends he had a partner and his old one broke things off, so you agreed to help him out in exchange for protection throughout school

The two of you faked a relationship and satisfied his group of friends

Of course, your reputation went down when people learned who you were with

But as your feelings grew for him, you didn't care

One day, while walking to the bus together, you admit how you genuinely feel to him, only for him to push you away and tell you to kick rocks

Later that night though, he showed up on your doorsteps with an apology and confession

"I thought to push you away to keep you safe from me. Turns out I'm only hurting us both that way, darling."

thoma !

Your childhood best friend who is the vice president of the student council

He's of high regard, and your family absolutely adores him

So he wasn't too suprised when you asked him to fake date for a month to get your parents off your cases

You were a pretty convincing couple

Thoma treated you perfectly with forehead kisses, talking you up to everyone, and holding you during lunch underneath a shady tree

He always had to convince himself it was all for show

But as the deadline of a month came closer, he just didn't want to let you go

He asked you to meet him at the front of the school, where he confessed to you with flowers

"I know it wasn't supposed to be real, but I can guarantee that everything I'm doing right now is based on my real feelings for you."

xiao !

Your quiet classmate who sits next to you in chemistry

One day, a guy came and begged for your number, only for Xiao to intervene and say he was your boyfriend

After the guy left, he said that he'd be willing to fake date you for a little to help out

He wasn't the best at making a show of things, but you gave him guidance

You even showed him ways to slowly come out of his shell and be more open and social

He soon caught himself falling for you; hard

He had no idea what to do, so he tried throwing subtle hints your way

When you didn't catch any of the not obvious signs, he just straight up told you how he felt one day in class

"I like you, okay? And not faking this time, like genuinely. This is embarrassing.."

yoimiya !

The leader of the cheerleading team

She caught your eye after one of the football games and didn’t leave since

When you came to her asking if she could fake date to make your crush jealous, she was more than happy to help

You both began dating after a Yoimiya publicly asked you on a date

Everyone was amazed at how well you two fit together

And soon, she began trying to become more intimate in public and private

You confronted her and asked about it when she tried to kiss you in your room

She sighed and gave you the truth

“Well, I’ve got feelings for you. Real ones. I don’t want our friendship to be ruined, but I want what we have for real this time.”

zhongli !

The guy you always saw when you entered the library

One day, he heard you arguing on the phone with your parents about finding a good partner for the future

He offered to help you out in exchange for you funding his book collection

You began “dating” and your parents adored him

And you began to realize how smart and generous he really was

Soon, your feelings began to grow

One day, you invited him over and sat on your porch, spilling about how you feel

He only laughed and smiled, holding your hand gently in his own

“I’m glad you feel the same. My apologies for not confessing sooner. I hope we can make something of us for real this time.”

#༄ order up!#genshin impact #genshin x reader #amber x reader #ayaka x reader #ayato x reader #childe x reader #diluc x reader #itto x reader #jean x reader #kaeya x reader #kazuha x reader #scaramouche x reader #tohma x reader #thoma x reader #xiao x reader #yoimiya x reader #zhongli x reader

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harrywavycurly · 10 months

Text

Eddie’s Wish Part 5: House Party

Masterlist: here

Tag List: @miss-celestial-being @edsforehead @starrywhitenight @mrsjellymunson @5sosjay @emma77645 @akiratoro420 @elegantkoalapaper @squidscottjeans @mikromoon @daddysmodifiedprincess2 @niallerlover8022 @twilightsfairie @pausmoon @pauphs @bl4ckt00thgr1n

A/N: Now that Eddie has decided to keep you, let’s start meeting the gang shall we? Enjoy✨

“Please stop asking me if I’d had water today.” You just roll your eyes as you follow Eddie up the driveway of Steve’s house. You can tell he’s nervous so you quickly grab his hand and give it a gentle squeeze making him jump slightly at the sudden contact but then his shoulders relax making you smile.

“You get cranky when you’re dehydrated.” You state as you look around Steve’s front yard taking in how well manicured it is compared to the wild flowers and tall grass outside of Eddie’s trailer. “He’s going to know who I am.” Eddie let’s out a huff at your use of being able to hear his thoughts especially when it comes to thoughts that cause his distress. “And yes he will be able to see me.” You add as the two of you finally make it to his front door.

“How does he think you two met?” He asks as he drops your hand so he can run it thought his untamed hair before knocking on the door. You open your mouth the answer but just then the front door swings open revealing a rather happy looking Steve who immediately pulls you into a hug.

“Thank god you’re here.” Eddie raises an eyebrow as Steve pulls away and grabs you by your hand practically dragging you into his house. “I have no fucking clue what I’m doing and you’re so good at throwing house parties so I figured you’d know what needs to be done to make this party really pop.” Steve is talking a mile a minute as he leads you into the living room where his coffee table is full of party decorations.

“Good at throwing house parties?” Eddie’s voice is full of confusion making Steve roll his eyes as he turns to glare at the long haired metal head.

“Yeah? That’s where we all met? Or where you so fucked up you don’t remember?” You look at Eddie as you take a step so your slightly behind Steve, you give him a look that tells him to go along with Steve’s story.

“Oh uh yeah I kinda remember.” Eddie rubs at the back of his neck and you feel your heart twist knowing he’s nervous and uncomfortable.

“Of course he remembers,” Eddie looks at you as you walk over to him and place your arm over his shoulder immediately making him feel better. “How could he forget meeting his bestfriend?” Steve just smiles and nods as he looks at the two of you, as a memory begins flooding Eddie’s mind of the night Steve first met you.

“Who’s that chick with the staring problem?” Steve half shouts into Eddie’s ear making him wince because Steve is far too close to him to be shouting.

“Why would I know? This isn’t my party.” Eddie answers as he makes himself another drink. You look across the room at Eddie and give him a smile making him feel drawn to you. “Uh but she’s kinda cute.” He doesn’t know why he said it but he couldn’t help himself as he looked you up and down making you roll your eyes. Steve takes the opportunity to also not so subtly check you out and he nods his head in agreement.

“Oh fuck she’s coming over here.” Steve mumbles as he and Eddie straighten up and try to do their best at acting natural.

“Having fun?” You ask the two of them before you take a sip of your drink. “It’s okay that you don’t know anyone.” You tell Eddie and he feels his eyes go as wide as golf balls because it was like you could read his mind. “Oh Steve there’s someone in the living room that wants to know your secret for-”

“A good hair day? Say no more I’ll go tell them my tricks.” Steve shoots you a wink before he disappears into the crowded living room totally oblivious to the fact he hadn’t introduced himself to you so there’s no way you’d know his name yet.

“Hi Eddie.” Eddie almost chokes on his drink as you say his name as if you’ve known him his whole life.

“Uhm hello.” You laugh as you reach over and brush a few strands of his hair out of his face so you can see his big brown eyes a little better. “Do I know you?” He asks as he stares into your eyes, you watch his body visibly relax as you place your hand on his shoulder.

“Yes.” Eddie just tilts his head as you watch it click in his mind that this is a memory for Steve and not for himself.

“Holy shit.” Is all he says as he looks around and sees Steve talking to a girl who is running her hands through his hair. “Yeah this makes sense for Steve.” You laugh as you watch Steve flirt with a girl who doesn’t even exist outside of this memory.

“This is the best party ever!” Steve shouts as he turns and looks at you with a giant grin on his face, you just raise your cup to him and return the smile.

“So what do you think? Steamers and balloons or just streamers?” Steve asks making Eddie come back to the current moment, you look away from him and towards Steve who’s hands are on his hips and his cheeks are pink letting you know he’s a little flustered.

“Steamers only.” You answer as you move your arm from around Eddie’s shoulders so you can walk over to the coffee table and grab some colorful streamers. “Balloons scream birthday party not just house party rage fest.” Eddie chuckles at your use of the words rage fest because this is Hawkins and parties like that don’t happen here.

“This is why you’re here.” Steve smiles as he watches you grab the tape and you point at the ladder leaning against the wall.

“Eddie will you grab that for me?” You ask and Eddie just nods and before Steve knows it his living room looks like a party scene from one of those classic eighties movies and he claps his hands in delight because he’s always wanted to throw a great house party like this.

“Don’t forget to put the bottles on ice right before the party starts and the snacks in bowls.” You explain as you grab Eddie’s hand and head for the front door. “We will be back later.” Steve just nods before opening the door for the two of you.

“Thanks for the help.” Eddie can’t help but feel weird when he watches Steve place a completely innocent kiss to your cheek before waving the two of you off.

“Jealousy is normal.” Eddie feels his cheeks get hot as you lead him down the path towards his van. “But pointless in this situation, Steve doesn’t like me.” You add making Eddie just nod as he tries to let go of your hand but your too quick and just pull him into a hug, something he should be used to by now but he can’t help but hesitate slightly before wrapping his arms around you.

“You’re annoying.” He mumbles into your neck making you laugh as you run your hands up and down his back. He lets out a sigh as he rests his cheek on your shoulder and he knows with the height difference this probably looks incredibly ridiculous but he really doesn’t care because right now he’s relaxed and actually looking forward to Steve’s house party.

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ofoceansandtombsanew · 11 months

Text

please go gentle into that good night (childe x reader)

tags: primordial!reader (she/her), reader is death personified, is annoyance to lovers applicable here??

The 11th Harbinger has seen death, there is no question about it among the agents of the Fatui. Scarred from battle after battle, always thirsty for more, death is a familiar friend of the Harbinger.

He’s delivered death to many in his endless pursuit of strength.

Has been on death’s door more times than anyone could hope to count.

“Oh, I’ve seen death and I don’t mean metaphorically,” Childe has laughed, sitting with his men drinking firewater around a fire indulging pleasantly in the friendly chatter. That’s all that is needed for the discussion to divulge into enthusiastic regales of his conquests, mostly regaled by his enthusiastic men while the newest recruits listen in awe. Yet no one will notice how their Harbinger falls silent, peering into his reflection with a light grin.

Ajax has seen death.

Felt her cold fingers caress his face, thumbing away the blood that dripped down his cheeks. Saw her eyebrows knit in concern and frustration in equal measure. Took in her cloak, black as the void. Could feel the fatigue in the heavy bags under her eyes.

Death is a woman and she is undoubtedly the most beautiful woman Ajax has ever seen.

They first met when he was simply a recruit, a far cry from the Harbinger he is in the present somewhere off the border of Fontaine and Liyue. The mission was a success, though the casualties were great in number.

There you formed from out of water, void-black cloak and all, taking in the sight of the bloodbath. Then your eyes rested on him, expression unreadable.

He knew who you were immediately.

“Humans,” you scowled, tone bereft of resentment as you kneeled to touch his face and he shuddered from the chill. Death looked at him and he looked back, all while feeling the gentle reverence in your touch with a voice like the night, soft yet coarse. Comfort enveloped in an instinctual fear.

An unending juxtaposition.

Ajax now knows you enough to know how you likely felt that day, staring at a bloody Fatuus crumpled against a large rock. They were your foolish but beautiful, endlessly aging humans.

“If you keep this up,” you told him, staring into his blue eyes unshakingly. “You’ll end up being one of my passengers.”

“You’re beautiful,” Ajax saw you balk in confusion, his reply unexpected.

“Fool,” you all but hissed as you stood and Ajax found it adorable. It’s another accomplish that he, Tartaglia, holds alone. He flustered Death itself. “Cherish your life, Fatuus,” you told him, summoning your oar to your side. “Cherish it so it is a long time before we see each other again.”

“My name is Ajax,” he laughed and he coughed painfully. “And I hope the next time we see each other again, it isn’t much longer!”

Your head shaking in exasperation was your only response as you took to the corpses, gathering the souls of the lost. Some left with ease, others sobbed in despair and others resisted you in their entirety. Yet all were eventually sat on boat you fashioned out of water, resting atop of the river that you would ride to take them home.

With a sparing glance to the living, to Ajax, you drifted away thinking this to be the last time you would encounter Ajax of the Fatui.

Much to his pleasure and your chagrin, it was not.

“You have a death wish,” Arlecchino told him once, chock full of contempt and vinegar.

“You’re not wrong about that one, comrade,” the 11th Harbinger grinned with a barking laugh. “It’s just that with all my wishing, she can’t seem to stand me.”

You had met each other countlessly, taking in that foolish Fatuus’ battle scars. Each time he learned something new about you and in turn he happily gushed about himself. He had many tells to share of his homeland, his family and the Tsaritsa he follows and you always listened.

“Keep this up and I’ll kill you myself,” you told him one particular encounter after a stint in his Foul Legacy form.

“Wouldn’t that be cheating?” Ajax grinned, ignoring how you flicked his forehead in annoyance.

You glared at the redhead sharply, “who would there be to tell?”

Ajax’s grin only grew wider, “I knew you wanted me, Death, but I didn’t know you wanted me that much.”

If looks could kill, Ajax is sure in that moment he would have been killed ten times over. “Can you not ask your god for jobs that won’t leave you at my door? Can you at least attempt to refrain yourself from violence?”

“But then how would I see you again?”

“When it’s finally your time to-”

“That could take forever,” Ajax whined and you groaned in disbelief. “How about this. Tell me your name and I promise to at least give it half a year before you have to see me again.”

You fixed him with a look, “you already know my name.”

With a shake of his head, Ajax clarified, “I don’t mean what everyone else calls you.” Death is what you are, not your name. “No one calls the Tsaritsa ‘Cryo’ or the Lord of Geo ‘Geo’. You have some sort of personal name, don’t you?” When you say nothing immediately, his expression morphs into a sad curiosity. “Is that really all anyone ever calls you?”

You hesitated only a moment longer before you finally answeredー “The ones affiliated with Celestia call me Pursan,” Ajax leaned forward in anticipation, blue staring into [color]. “But you may call me [First].”

[First].

“[First],” he relished the sound of your name. What would he give to hear you say his name? He would promise you kingdoms, entire nations at your feet. Thankfully, he didn’t have to wait long for it, no promises of conquered nations required.

“Keep your promise to me, Ajax,” his name dripped from your lips like honey and he wished you would say it again. “If you’re determined to continue this fool’s errand, I don’t want to see you any sooner than what you’ve promised.”

All of this leads to now, Ajax nursing a moderately sized cut on his stomach whilst sitting along the banks of Yashiori Island nine months later. Despite the hard-to-use cutlery, Ajax is fond of Inazuma. The duels permitted by the land is one he favors, it isn’t something he expected from the Nation of Eternity.

It is a perk that a duel a foolhardy coward challenged him to would lead to something that would surely catch your attention. He can hear you scolding him already, nursing him back to health all the while.

“You’re there aren’t you?” He asks the waves lapping the shore, welcoming the cool evening breeze brushing against his skin. You’re Death, you’re never too far. You’re everywhere at any place at any time. It’s part of your charm.

When he sees the waves falter, he knows he is correct as streams of water raise to create your form. The ferrywoman donned in black, Death in the flesh. Even with your tired reproachful look, Ajax can’t bring himself to regret his actions.

He’ll gladly do them time and time again even for a hint of you.

"Don’t you get tired of this, Ajax?” There’s nothing to be tired of, not when it allows him the thrill of battle. When it allows him to further his strength. Your arrival only sweetens the persistent battle he chases.

“Of seeing you?” Ajax drawls, pleased to take you in before you left him once more. “Never.”

You’re scowling, just like when you first met him, and yet all the same, your touch is gentle as you brush your fingertips against his cheek. Despite the chill that touches him to the bone, he leans into your touch and places a hand against yours. “You’re a fool,” you tell him and he smiles lazily in return. “Chase someone in the land of the living. There are plenty that would be taken with you.”

Ajax ignores that request promptly, “are you here to take me?”

“I am not,” you reply without missing a beat.

“But one day you will,” he sighs, almost dreamily. In any other context, he is sure the sentiment is frighteningly morbid. “There’s some bandages in my supply bag,” he motions to his supply bag nonchalantly and you part away from him. “Of course, it would be a win-win situation to the both of us if you would visit me more often. No wounds required,” he isn’t disheartened by your lack of response. “The cuisine of Inazuma is quite nice. But if you’re not one for Inazuman food, I know quite a few places in Liyue Harbor.”

Supplies in hand, you kneel in front of him. “Remove your shirt please.”

He considers joking that you should at least take him to dinner first, but instead he removes his shirt quietly. The cold of your hands feel reminiscent to the cold of his homeland. He wonders how much of it you’ve seen in the past. If you’ve ever truly seen it. You mentioned before you’ve never had a day off in the eons of your existence. How could one truly see the beauty of the land if they never stopped to appreciate it?

I hope I can take you to Morepesok. Ajax burns something fierce akin to freezer burn. (Strange when what runs in your veins is the same deep blue of his Vision.) During a holiday when he’s guaranteed time to go home and visit his family. He burns for you to see it, to take any time for yourself to dance alongside the hearth alongside Tonia and to play games with Anthon and Teucer.

How alive would you be then, you who cherishes life more than anyone in the land of the living?

“I don’t think many can say they’ve had their wounds tended to by death itself,” Ajax starts and when you say nothing, he continues on unperturbed. “Isn’t keeping me alive cheating?”

You glance at him from your work of lightly dabbing his wound with your water. “Not cheating,” you answer at last. “It isn’t yet your time.”

“Do you know when it will be?”

“Yes,” you begin to ravel the bandage around him.

“Will you tell me when that is?”

“I will not,” and he sighs something along the lines of ‘I suppose I won’t be receiving any spoilers as to when you can stop avoiding me’ in Snezhnayan. You look at him and he wonders how much of his tongue you understand, if at all. He hopes to teach it to you, should you ever ask. “There,” you finish your bandaging in record time. “I can at least say I’m pleased you kept your promise to stay out of major trouble. Nine months is a record for you.”

Your smile is small, barely visible under the light of the moon and stars as silence falls over you. You’d insist that one like you is at home in the darkness, Ajax argues that one like you is a child of the sun.

“[First],” he rests a hand on your cheek, wanting to imprint every feature into his palms so that he won’t forget what they’re like. When you don’t reject him, he leans hoping to catch your lips with his own. Instead, he feels your finger tips and he opens his eyes to stare into the unknowable look yours hold.

“Live, Ajax,” you murmur like you’re telling him a treasured secret. He truly loves the way you say his name. “This fascination borders obsession. Whatever you want, you won’t find it in me. Find someone else to chase and live. Live long and live it well. Your life is precious.”

Love, obsession, it’s the same thing no?

He wonders if one can truly put an age on Death. You are one who has lived eons, definitely older than Zhongli. Probably as old as Teyvat itself. He wonders what it must be like for you, feared by many and only wanted by one. Ajax wants you deeply. Perhaps you think he lost his mind those three months in the dark realm he stumbled into as a child.

You will never call it love no matter how much he begs to differ.

We’ll have to agree to disagree. Finally, Ajax moves back from your fingers, “Is it precious to you?”

“Your life is precious to many people,” you tell him, resting your hand in your lap. “To your mother and your father, to your siblings in Snezhnayaー”

He asks again, “but is it precious to you?”

In spite of his Hydro Vision, he burns. He burns to know your answer, burns for your acceptance. It’s a burning that can only be sated by the chill of your being pressed against his.

Death looks at himー you look at him and he looks back.

Ajax’s eyes flutter shut when you lean forward, and he feels your breath ghost his lips. Yet nothing follows and when he opens his eyes, all that remains of your presence is the damp sand where you once knelt.

You’re a cruel woman, [First], Ajax laughs humorlessly, wondering how long it would be until your paths crossed once more. He sets camp close to the beach, the rhythm of the waves lulling him to sleep and the dull ache of his wounds remind him that he’s alive.

Ajax will see you again, it’s only a matter of when.

Will it be when he’s on your door once more? Frustration in your eyes as you insist he let go of his feelings you won’t allow yourself to return?

Or will it be the end of his time roaming Teyvat, unable to continue his endeavor to become the strongest? When that time comes, will you greet him warmly or with a look of melancholy as you hold out your hand for him to board your boat?

Or perhaps the next time he sees you, you’ll accept his outstretched hand and follow him out of the dark and into the light. You’ll follow him to appreciate the seven nations, saving his homeland for last. You’ll dance with his siblings and smile widely, accepting the reprieve from your grim duties as his mother insists you eat more of her solyanka.

Nor will you run from his lips when they seek yours.

Death brought to life.

He’ll live long enough to see the day, that much he can promise.

“Пока мы не встретимся снова,” Ajax thinks before sleep takes him for the evening. Until we meet again.

#look she's writing #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #childe x reader #tartaglia x reader #ajax x reader #writer's block works hard but i struggle harder #he gave the reader the princess mononoke treatment #death!reader au

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