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meshlasolus · 1 month

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Too Sweet

Dbf!Joel Miller x College!Reader

A/n: hey guys so i may or may not take a writing break (i know i said i was gonna write more but like) the stress of all the nazi shits that keep plaguing my comment sections on every post i make, regardless if it’s political or not is making me wanna tear my head off… so I might just go away a while.

Warnings: fluff, awkward mentions of past relationships, dbf!joel, smut, piv (unprotected), so much teasing. It’s actually pretty cute guys.

Is anyone at all surprised by the song choice? Hozier has us all in a headlock rn… also this is dedicated to my favorite joel writer @macfrog bc she’s just amazing and you should read her work.

MASTERLIST

“Babygirl,” he breathed, pulling back but not away, his face still inches from your own. You could clearly see his blown pupils and focused expression. “Get upstairs.” Though you wanted to tease him, wanted to quip back a quiet ‘or what?’, you needed him just as much, and you weren’t going to be told twice.

“Dates are a bad idea,” you reminded him, handing over another nail from the box in your hands.

A last minute kitchen Island was added to the kitchen’s floor plan on the current house the team had been working on, so now it was up to yourself and Joel to make that happen. Well, it was up to Joel to make that happen, and it was up to you to stand by and watch him.

“I know, s’just,” he shook his head, hammering the nail down and holding his hand up for another. “I don’t get the whole thing these days where relationships are built on hookups.”

Your lips turned up in a smile. He was an old fashioned guy, with old fashioned ideals about love and dating and relationships. It was sweet, albeit a little obnoxious. You rather liked hooking up with him, however little it may be.

“Where would we even go?” you saw how on the first hit, the nail went crooked, so you handed him another before he even reached.

“I don’t know, hadn’t thought that far.”

You had to laugh at that.

“You wanna take me on a date but you don’t know where we would go?”

“Well,” he finished the last nail then stood up next to you, scratching the back of his neck. “This ain’t exactly an easy situation, we got your old man to avoid.”

Very reasonable, but sort of an obvious point by now. This entire thing started based on the fact that: you know each other because of your father, as in, they are each other’s closest friend. Pair that with one man hooking up with the other’s daughter, it becomes a disaster waiting to happen… except for he doesn’t see it that way, and neither do you.

You sighed, looking around to make sure everyone was still outside with the boss. Joel had just wiped his forehead on his arm to rid himself of the sweat, and you could see the tension in his muscles from the work he just finished. You stepped up to him and wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him close enough to peck his lips once.

“If you can find a place where we won't get caught, then I’d love to go on a date with you.”

He smiled, kissing you again. He had wanted to tell you he was too sweaty for hugs right now, but as soon as you wrapped yourself around him, those thoughts suddenly left his mind. You just fit so well against him, he wonders how he never realized.

He was even older than you thought. Not actually, but this man had decided on a date location, and as you were pulling in, the things packed into the backseat started to make sense.

“Drive In movies?” You shouldn’t be surprised, the guy is practically a fossil, he even texts like he's still got a flip phone.

“Your dad’s never taken you here?” He chuckled, pulling into the line at the front.

“No,” you laughed, leaning back in your seat as the cars ahead moved up.

“Good, then we won’t run into him.”

You reached and grabbed his hand over the center console. He always gave two little squeezes before readjusting his grip, rubbing his thumb on the center of your palm. It was sweet, comforting.

He rolled down his window and paid the attendant in the booth, just a kid, probably still in high-school… but he certainly had an attitude on him, given the nasty glare he served Joel after making eye-contact with you. Joel had never let go of your hand, the kid knew he wasn’t your dad.

“What’d you tell him, anyway?” He asked, driving off towards the lot on the opposite side of the land. The big screen was not even rolling the trailers yet.

“Hm?”

“Your dad,” he seemed almost shy about mentioning your dad in front of you, in this context. How did you lie to him this time? But he knew what he was doing, what he’d been doing and still plans on doing.

“Told ‘im I was gonna go shopping with a friend, that I may or may not sleep over.”

He raised an eyebrow and smirked, never taking his eyes off the road. He pulled into a spot in the very back corner, where it was likely to remain empty the entire duration of the movie.

“Oh did you, now?”

You turned a light shade of pink at admitting to him you wanted to sleep over… not like it was a new occurrence, but you hadn’t really asked him yet.

“I didn’t tell him for sure, I know Sarah-”

“Sarah’s with Tommy at a concert in Dallas,” he said, unbuckling his seat belt and turning off the engine. “Text your dad, let him know that friend of yours is keepin’ you till tomorrow.”

He got out of the truck, walking around the front to open your door, holding his hand out to help you down. Ever the gentleman.

“Thank you, kind sir,” you teased, walking around the backseat door and helping him unload the piles of blankets he’d managed to stuff in. The man practically emptied the top shelf of his linen closet for this.

“Anything for you, M’lady.”

He ended up taking almost everything into his arms, letting you carry one pillow and a single blanket towards the back of the truck. Normally it was all dusty and gross, proof of the work it helped him do. You wouldn’t even have noticed, because you don’t often pay attention to the state of other people’s truck beds, but he had cleaned the whole thing out, making it look as if he’d just brought it home from the dealership… minus the odds and ends of dents from his toolbox and timber.

“What’s playin’?” You nodded up to the screen as he took the pillows and blankets, tossing them across the truck bed to make a cozy little area for the two of you.

“It’s uh…” he reached into his pocket, checking the nightly double stubs. “Jaws and E.T., it’s a Spielberg double feature.”

You don’t remember telling him that Spielberg was your favorite director, but maybe he was just already at that place where he could read your mind… or maybe it was just a coincidence and he thought that the throwback double feature at the drive in would be fun. Either way, he hit the nail right on the head.

“Sounds good to me.”

When everything was settled just the way he wanted, he turned to you, his hand out towards the blankets. “After you, darlin.”

You tried to step up on the tailgate, but your foot slipped for how high it was.

“Want me to give you a toss?” He joked, but you rolled your eyes at him. You would not be acquiring his help after that joke.

“I’ll be just fine, thank you.”

It may have been embarrassing, but like hell you were gonna give into him, his chuckles of amusement under his breath as you slowly and steadily climbed up by yourself. It was much harder to grab onto the dip in the bed when there were so many blankets spread out. Eventually you made it up, collapsing onto your back into the mound of bedding.

“First try,” you raised a fist in the air, looking back to him to see his amusement had not ended and he was smiling wide where he stood, arms crossed and brows raised when your eyes met. “You comin’?”

And as easily as he could walk, he used the ridge along the underside of the tailgate to climb up over on the side, sitting down next to you and giving you a light hearted side eye. “See how easy that was?”

“Oh yeah, sure. You must be so proud, you’re a pro at climbing into your own truck.”

He laughed, laying back beside you. “Baby, I think anyone looks like a pro compared to you.”

“Maybe I’m just more athletically inclined, wanted to take the long way,” you chided, sitting up onto your elbows and looking over at him. The trailers had started running, and the light was hitting his features so nicely. He looked so nice. You could argue that he always did. At work when he was a sweaty mess, he looked real good then, too.

“I’m sure that’s it.”

He settled against the pillows, nodding his head upwards for you to join him. He brought you near with open arms, one that settled under your shoulder and the other that settled on your waist. You’d tucked your head under his chin, feeling him rest his head on top of yours.

You both had fucked around, sure… but this was a little slice of heaven right here. No amount of sneaking around or giving each other temporary pleasure beat the simplicity of laying next to one another, breathing in each other’s air, and being on a date. A real one. It wasn't a hasty exchange built upon needing to get off, but a choice to spend genuine time together, in which you receive nothing but the pleasure of one's company.

You couldn’t remember the last time you went on a date. Joel was right, hookup culture had become too strong in this day and age. It stands to reason that you haven’t actually slept with anyone in a while. You like being asked out, but guys your age don’t exactly want to give you that satisfaction. Joel asked you out. Sure, he fucked you silly on the stretch of his fingers only a week ago… but he still asked you out.

Jaws ended sooner than you thought it would. Back when you were a kid, and afraid of sharks, it seemed much longer of a movie. There was a lull between it and E.T., assuming the kid working in the projection tower had to change out the film roll himself. It made for a sweet and quiet conversation that sparked up as soon as the credits rolled.

“You bring a lot of girls here?”

He rolled his eyes and shook his head, even though it was meant as a teasing question.

“Nah,” he said anyway, turning a bit more to face you. “Usually, I don’t have to hide from my girlfriend’s dads. Not since highschool, anyway.”

You almost didn’t catch it. His use of the word girlfriend, which subtly implied that’s what you were… but you weren’t one to assume, or at least, not with Joel and the risky business of your relationship. You laced your hand with his between your bodies, looking down at his fingers while you did your best to recover the conversation without acting awkward.

“The more I think about it, I’m not so sure my dad would be angry.”

Joel wished he had the mindset to think that way.

“You kiddin’ me? If your dad found out I’d been messin with his only daughter, I’d get his shotgun to my head.”

A laugh escaped your lips, but you shook your head.

“You’re not just messin with me, though…”

At least, you hoped he wasn’t. Of all things that could be said about you and Joel, it was that you had already gotten attached. Already been to a place where you miss seeing him at work every day when you go home. Miss talking to him and learning more about his life, and having him listen about yours. There have been so many people in your life who told you that you talk too much, or that you never shut up. But Joel never has. He listens, and he’s happy to. You’d hate to lose that one day and never get it back.

“No,” he lifted your chin so you’d meet his eyes again. “I’m not just messin with ya.”

You held his stare for a moment, neither of you leaned in. It was just a nice moment, to look at one another, and to appreciate what you saw. A moment to see that hey, Joel has little flecks of gold in the brown of his eyes. A little moment for when you get sad that he isn’t around, that way you can remember how he looks at you when he is around. It’s something mixed with longing and contentment. Two opposites that somehow come together on his features and tell you more than his words could ever say.

“Good,” you finally replied. “In any case, my dad won’t shoot ya. I think he loves you too much.”

He laughed, the low rumble vibrated through his chest, and you felt it against your joined hands.

“You don’t suppose I could woo him over too, huh?”

“I don’t think your charm would sway him as easily.”

“Oh I got charm, now?”

“No, not really… nice ass, though,” you giggled, and he playfully shoved your arm back, causing you to fall into a fit of laughter on your back. “Just bein’ honest, mister.”

“I see how it is,” he pulled you back in with a swift move of his arm. “Only want me for my body.”

“What can I say? I’m a modern woman in a modern world.”

“S’all the same to me, whatever gets you to agree to a date with me. Still can’t believe you did…”

He says it half jokingly. You know he doesn’t see himself as desirable. Even though he’s in the prime of his life and is quite literally one of the finest men this town has to offer, he looks at the obstacles. He works too often, has a teenage daughter, he doesn’t look the way he used to, some people find him incredibly boring… but only the worst people.

“Joel, I'm lucky to be on a date with you.”

“Yeah, sure… s’not like you ain’t got a hundred guys your age lining up behind me to-”

You kissed him. He was not going to be permitted to speak if he was not going to say nice things about himself, a new rule you were establishing. He didn’t seem to care much for the rest of his sentence after you pulled away, the words slipping from his mind the second your lips touched his.

“I like you,” you told him, making your intentions very clear to him. You weren’t just messing around, either. “You treat me better than all those shitheads, anyway.”

You’d been passing in and out of consciousness on the drive home. You’d been up since the crack of dawn this morning, the neighbor’s dog barking incessantly. You’re sure Joel heard it too, unless of course he’d been laying on his good ear, the bad one would have canceled out all the noise.

The streetlights go by in waves over your eyes, lids closed lightly after each time they flutter. You were curled so sweetly into the passenger seat of Joel’s truck, finding such comfort in the place. You’d have thought it was where you spent most of your time. His hand was on the edge of your knee the whole drive, rubbing small circles over the area.

By the time you both had gotten home, you had to scan the yard for signs that your dad may be in the near vicinity. He was usually never home on a Friday night, unless there was a Rangers game or if he had company. It made sense that his car was gone when you both pulled up.

“You text him, yet?”

You shook your head, pulling your phone out of your back pocket and completing the task meant for three hours ago.

“It’s only ten, he might be at the bar, still.”

You didn’t over explain anything in your message, no need to make him question your thoroughness. Just something simple and quick.

Staying over at Amy’s, I’ll be back before lunch. Drive safe.

But then you immediately deleted the last part. Because how would you know he’s still out?

Joel had cut the engine, getting out and walking around to meet you at your door, except you’d already opened it and stepped out yourself.

He gave you an unserious look that feigned offense.

“Hey now,” he settled his hands on his hips, the sass evident in his voice. “We’re still on a date, miss. I’m supposed to get the door.”

You knew he wasn’t really upset, but you found it funny pretending as if he was.

“Modern woman in a modern world, remember?”

“Yeah,” he waved you off, shutting your door and taking your hand as you both walked up to the front door. “What all does that entail, anyhow? Bein’ a modern woman?”

You smiled, watching him take his damn time with the keys. He knew exactly what he was doing.

“Well, since achieving the vote, we’ve made quite a bit of ground. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but we’re allowed to work with you guys, now.”

“Ah… how did I miss that?”

“Weren’t looking hard enough. We also get to wear pants now, so I can see why you’re confused.”

And once the door was open, he lazily slung an arm around you to let you inside. Ladies first and all that. He didn’t actually respond to your last comment until you were both in the entry hall, door closed.

“Shame, I kinda like you without pants,” he hovered in close, partially teasing but otherwise just to get his body nearer to yours. The heat between you blossomed, and it could easily be sensed on both sides since leaving the truck.

“Mister Joel Miller, don't you know the best part of a modern woman?”

He raised his eyebrows, his head shaking once and eyes rolling over. Just say it already.

“We can ask any man we want to take our pants off.”

There was barely a second between your words and the speed of his lips meeting yours. It was different from the kisses at the drive in, now it was harsh and hungry. A stark contrast to the softness and the serenity. This was clouded by lust, by the human need to devour.

Joel was not gentle by nature. He was often brutish in his work and day to day. There were few people who genuinely saw him gentle. Sarah, Tommy, your dad, and you, his other side neighbors, and Carol, the lady who takes Sarah to school when he can’t. Maybe not in that exact order, but that was the list nonetheless.

You’d always seen him gentle, so the moment he backs you into the door, your back slamming on the painted wood, something stirs. You liked Joel how you knew him… but maybe there was other unexplored territory to delve into.

“Joel,” you whined out on the end of a breath. His name falling from your mouth was always how he preferred to hear it, but under this context had to be his favorite.

“Baby,” he trailed his kisses to your cheek, then jaw, then neck, resting in the crook of your shoulder and seemingly finding a home there. Your hands dove through his hair, tugging ever so gently and feeling the vibrations on your skin as a repercussion. His hands never found a resting place, running up and down your sides, every few seconds reaching down for a feel of your ass. He seemed to like yours, too.

When the arousal became too much, you tried your luck at rolling against him. The sound he made alone would have been enough for you to know how badly he wanted you, but the feel of him through his jeans was a physical show of it. He gets hard so fast for you.

“Babygirl,” he breathed, pulling back but not away, his face still inches from your own. You could clearly see his blown pupils and focused expression. “Get upstairs.”

Though you wanted to tease him, wanted to quip back a quiet ‘or what?’, you needed him just as much, and you weren’t going to be told twice.

He watched you from behind, taking the stairs two at a time until you reached the top. You nearly tripped over the last stair, but before you could go toppling over, his arm around your waist stopped you dead in your place.

“So damn clumsy,” he shook his head, the edge of a smirk forming. He tapped your hip with his free hand, getting you to move forward again until you got to his door. “Can’t get in a truck, can’t climb stairs…”

Now that he’d teased you first, you felt you had a small bit of free reign to mess with him. He was still gonna have you, but why make things so boring? You stared at the handle, gripping it, but making no move to twist it and open the door.

“Doorknob too much for you, too?”

You narrowed your eyes over your shoulder, where he was lingering closely. You could feel him pressed against your backside, the arousal evident in every breath he took, but he was still having fun with his little pokes of annoyance at you.

“I think I remember a rule about your room being off limits…” You trailed, cheekily smiling at him before he reached around you and opened the door himself. He held out his hand with a cocky raised brow, and waited for you to step in.

“Ladies don’t always have to go first, y’know. S’all part of-”

“Bein’ a modern woman, I know.”

But still you went in first, taking a few steps backward until your knees hit the edge of the bed and caused you to sit. You tilted your head at him, still leaning in the doorway, his hand on the frame above his head and his other hand still steadily on his hip. What’s he waiting for?”

“I ain’t gonna wait all night, cowboy…”

He chuckled, shaking his head and slowly coming forward. For someone so eager, he was taking his sweet time.

“You’re cute,” he gently pushed you back into the mattress, crawling one arm at a time over your form. “But something tells me that you would wait all night.”

He leaned down and met your lips with his, feeling your hands climb from the bed, to his shoulders, then to the sides of his face. He loved the feeling of your hands on him. Loved the way that with each pass of your skin against his, you began to learn the feeling of him as well. With one hand still supporting himself, his other raked down your side, then up over your middle, hugging the curves of your stomach, the stretch of your ribcage, and the gentle peaks of your breasts. He stopped there, paying mindful attention according to every sound you made, every groan of approval, or whimper of satisfaction. It was all he could hear, and became his instruction on how to touch you.

You wrapped your legs around his hips, pulling him closer between them, trying to spur on the friction that would give you relief. Joel knew the signs of your arousal clearly by now, but there was still ground for him to cover.

“Gettin’ so needy already, baby.”

His murmur against your mouth was interrupted. You whined at the loss of his lips, but were quieted in a moment when his hands trails downwards. He knelt one knee between your legs, the other still on the ground. He lifted behind your knees and gave a quick shove to drive you further up his mattress. His next move was to go for your shorts, given the fact they’d been causing him to mentally strain himself all evening.

“Gotta get these damn things off,” he said.

They went flying to the floor, and then he had to stop a minute. With your knees raised, either side of his hips, he had the most ethereal view of your soaked underwear, a dark and increasingly wet stain against the soft blue cotton. When you noticed how long he’d stopped to enjoy the scenery, you grabbed his hand on your knee.

“Joel, please-”

“I know, babygirl.”

And he didn’t make you beg for it. Not like the silly college boys would, and have in the past. He sunk down on the ground by his bed, leaning over on his elbows, hooking them under your legs again before pulling himself inward. He kissed over the wet fabric, hooking his fingers underneath it at your sides and slowly sliding them off.

Your hands found his hair and your mouth parted in a shaking breath. The slow contact he made was like sweet torture. Your skin arose goosebumps under his touch, agonizingly slow and increasingly annoying, given your absolute need for him.

“Need you… Joel I can’t- fuck.”

He kept it slow, but he licked upward, meeting your clit in devastating motions. You needed more, and as if he read your mind, his first finger was brought down and inserted to your seeping entrance. Your cries of approval met her ears like a happy melody, pushing him to go faster.

You’d already been pushing the edge, just from him touching you… but now that the contact was area specific, you weren’t sure if you could take much more. The hard feeling of him pressed against your earlier had seeded a thought that you would not be satisfied until he was inside you, heavy and full.

“Want more,” you tried to tell him, but he would not allow his feasting to be cut short. He’d made up his mind about the first time he would actually have sex with you. It wasn’t going to be rushed.

He shook his head, the sensation from the motion even more impacting. You took one hand away from his hair, fisting his sheets as tightly as you could.

“Gotta work you a little,” he pulled back to say, adding another finger to the mix, feeling you tightly around him. He climbed back up your body, hand never leaving its place between your legs. “Relax for me, yeah?”

You did your best, taking a breath and keeping your eyes trained on his, but they soon fell to his mouth, lips licked clean and the very corners covered with you. It somehow flipped a switch in you that you weren’t sure was good or not. Joel was the first man to go down on you. Joel was the first man to kiss you without immediately putting his tongue in your mouth. Joel was the first man to be so invested in your relationship, that he asked you out on a date… after you messed around. It stands to reason that Joel may be the first man you genuinely fall in love with. Not puppy love like in high school. Not conditional love based on what he can get out of it. Actual love.

You dawn on this realization quickly, still in the moment and feeling his every move, every grip of his hand or every curl of his fingers. It’s all so instant, and in your present state of mind. Like, every time he moves an inch, it somehow contributes to your relative thought.

“Joel?” you look up at him with glassed over eyes.

He pauses his movements below on account of how sincere you sound.

“Yeah?”

It’s not I love you… not yet. It’s I know you, it’s going to be you.

You reach down between your bodies, his fingers still sheathed in yours, and palm him generously. Without losing eye contact, you undo his jeans, doing your best with one hand to maneuver the waistband of his boxers and pull him from his confinement. You aren’t looking yet… but you know from the feel of his sheer size alone, you’re in for the pain of your life. It bothered you last time, the thought that he may break you on his girth, that you may feel differently or resent him from how he feels… except you don’t feel that way anymore. Because of your aforementioned realization, you now feel that though this may hurt, it would not change your desire for him. He’s not a boy who’s hurting you to get off. He cares about you.

Not just messin’ around…

“You’ve made me wait long enough,” you told him, the awestruck glaze in your eyes slowly fading as your smirk crawled over your face. You grabbed the hem of his shirt, allowing him to help you get it off. Seeing more of his skin, and feeling it against you when he settled back down was elating. It felt like the doorway to something, the hallway leading to reward.

“Baby, you’re still tight, I don’t wan-”

“I’ll be okay, I promise.”

He sighed, trying to look anywhere but your eyes because dammit they were convincing.

“I hurt you, you tell me. Promise that,” he looked at you sternly, and you can’t say you’ve ever seen him so serious like this alone with you. He almost seemed, for lack of a better word, scared. Like you were a flower petal he was afraid to touch for the fear it would fall from the blossom.

“Promise.”

He nodded, smiling weakly, still unsure but willing to let you lead him blindly.

He picked you up and put you down on the proper region of the bed, your head meeting the pillows behind you. You giggled at his rapid motions to strip you of your shirt and bra next, his pent up anticipation now getting the better of him. He’d kicked off the last of his remaining clothing, looking back to you, sprawled out on his bed, waiting patiently for him.

“If we’re gonna do this, we’re doin’ it right,” he joked, crawling back over you.

He nuzzled his nose against yours, then leaned down to collect a kiss. The kiss met your lips but then parted and moved to your neck, then shoulders, licking the sweet spot in the crook between them. He traveled down your chest, his kisses never stopping, although his hands paid special attention to each peak of raised flesh.

Your noises fell on grateful ears, the appreciation for them showing in every eager kiss, every soft grope of your skin. When he reached your lower region, he kissed both thighs apart, lifting one at a time and making sure they were set aside his hips comfortably. Once done, he kissed his way back up. Tentative, and slow. Joel is often strong and silent, and in this instance, it showed immensely. The way he can easily move parts of you around without hassle, and do so without uttering a word. It was dangerously addicting, how he already knew your body so intimately after only a few experiences.

Once his lips again found yours it lasted, and lasted. The feeling of him right against you was breathtaking. No barriers, no clothing, no promises of ‘another time’ between you.

“You let me know, alright?”

You nodded, his voice had become gentler from his first worrisome words minutes ago.

He kept his eyes on you, trying to gauge your reaction moment by moment. You wrapped an arm over his shoulder, holding the hairs at the back of his neck to ground yourself. He lined himself up to you and ever so slowly began to push in, holding himself after the first sharp intake of breath through your nose.

“M’okay,” you said assuringly, the sensation dulling slightly when you focused solely on him and not his actions.

He went further, and deeper, slower than sludge but making sure you could feel every inch comfortably before moving again. You twirled his hair between your fingers, the other hand digging nails into his side. His face, eyes still focused on your expression, was becoming the product of bliss. This entire exchange, the build up, the stretching pain, and the way your lungs couldn’t seem to exhale, was all worth it… just to see this look on his face. The way he was having to fight himself to stay in the moment and not get lost in the euphoria, it was the most beautiful you’d ever seen him. When he was dazed and confused just by feeling you around him.

“You gotta breathe, baby,” he let out, trying to keep your comfort in the forefront of his mind. He took a deep inhale of his own, and when he felt you following his steady pattern he was able to relax a little more, just like you did. “Atta girl, just like that… keep doin’ that.”

He started to move, a single thrust once he could be sure that there wasn’t any stiff pain. The only sting left over was fading, the slow and measured pace he set was becoming like a lifeline. Comparable to a heartbeat. In and out, in and out, the feeling becomes more pleasurable and addictive. You need a heartbeat to live, and in this moment, you need Joel to live, his easy and gentle pace.

“S’good,” you murmured, your eyes fluttering closed and his head dropping to your neck again. “Feels so deep.”

Joel bit down on your skin, tethering himself. The praise was something he wasn’t quite used to. He’s self deprecating to a fault, but hearing the opposite from your lips, which he adores, makes him feel stronger somehow. Keeping a tether is all he can do to keep from rutting against you. He wants so badly for you to be different, to not end up just a one night stand or a friend with benefits. He wants you to feel how much he cares about you, wants to take care of you.

“Doin’ so good, baby,” he whispered, your neck absorbing most of the sound. “Taking me, so tight.”

Your muscles started contracting the moment he sped up his rhythm, only one thrust that was different from the rest. It hit you so fast, the coil in your stomach, building up and aching for relief.

“Joel… shit,” You could barely even get your words out, interrupted by a whimper of white hot euphoria. “I’m gonna…”

“I know,” he growled, his desire to rut into you slowly fading as he increased his pace to meet that carnal need. “I feel you, baby. Give it to me.”

It built only a little more, but then you couldn’t take it. It was too much, too full. The tightness in your stomach burst, letting go of every tense muscle in your body. It was so intense you practically screamed for him, his name a repetitive mantra on your tongue. Joel. Your hips jolted and writhed around, the feeling increasing with every hit against your cervix. Joel. Your walls tightened even more around him, the sting only slightly returning but in a way that made you crave it. Joel. He came right after you, unable to even try pulling out, just for how tightly you held him in. Joel…

He dropped half his weight, pulling away from your neck to kiss your lips. He needed to. It didn’t feel right to stay hidden in your neck when he had such gratification for you right now. The way you made him feel was no simple thing, and he felt you needed to be thanked for that. If a kiss was all he could give you in the moment, then so be it.

Joel…

“I’m sorry,” he let out, leaving his forehead against yours.

“For what?”

“I came in you… I didn’t ask,” he furrowed his brows, hoping you wouldn’t begrudge him too badly. He’d say he got lucky when you pulled him back down for another kiss.

“It’s okay… wanted you to,” you were still coming down from your high, possibly the most intense feeling you’ve ever experienced. He smiled and kissed you again, and again. He shifted the way you both laid, on his side, and brought you close to his chest.

When your breathing went back to normal, you spoke again.

“I was scared, y’know.”

He looked closely at you, unsure of what you meant and why.

“I thought you might hurt me. I didn’t care if you did, but I still thought you might,” you told him, running your fingers in circles over his skin. Though you seemed in bliss, perfectly happy, he couldn’t help but be frightened that maybe you weren’t telling him.

“Did I? Hurt you?”

“No.” you shook your head, holding a smile and making sure he saw it was genuine. “You didn’t hurt me, it was good. Really good. No other guy has ever…”

He again was confused by the trail of your voice… no guy has ever…? Oh, shit.

“No other guy’s made you come before?”

The embarrassed blush on your cheeks told him all he needed to know. You weren’t sure why it was so awkward to let him find that out, but you suddenly felt like you were more of a child, having not experienced things that he has for years before.

“No one before you… and you’ve already got four on the board,” you laughed, trying to make it feel like it wasn’t as big a deal. Like it was funny.

He narrowed his eyes, raising his head up to look at you closer.

“Ranger’s night, last week, tonight… that’s three,” he corrected, counting out on three fingers and holding them up.

“You technically weren’t there the other time,” you smirked, giggling once he looked at you with wide eyes and a dropped jaw.

“Should’ve called me,” he kissed the tip of your nose, your smile still prominent and growing. “I love hearing you.”

Over his shoulder you heard his phone buzzing, once, twice, then three times. He huffed, hoping it wasn’t from someone at the work site that wasn’t able to lock up the property after reviewing.

“Hold on,” he rolled his eyes, turning just far enough to reach his jeans on the ground, pulling his phone from the pocket. He squinted against the harsh light, swiping through the message notifications that appeared when he unlocked the screen. He laughed, turning to you. “S’ your dad.”

“It’s late, I would have thought he was either drunk or asleep by now.”

“Apparently neither,” he slid his phone back on the nightstand, regaining you in his arms. “Wants to know if I’m still awake for a drink.”

You laughed, “Oh, really?”

“Yeah. Not sure if you’ve heard but, you’re actually at a friend’s house till tomorrow.”

“How fun for me… so that means a guy’s night for you and my dad?” You played along with him, the sweet tone in your voice turning teasing.

“It would… too bad I’m already asleep.” He reasoned, which is probably what he would repeat to your dad tomorrow if asked.

“Damn, you old men go to bed early.”

“Hey now… let’s not go crazy.”

tags: @justanothersadperson93@moonchild-warrior@hopplessilse @brittmd115 @michilandcof@untamedheart81@just-someone-broken@joelalorian@xybil @yvonneeeee @anoverwhelmingdin@theatrelove3000

#joel the last of us #joel x reader #joel miller age gap #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #dbf! joel miller #dbf!joel miller x reader #dbf!joel miller #dbf!joel #pedro pascal joel miller #troy baker

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sylvies-chen · 9 months

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hozier really makes albums that are just like: here’s a song about how love is tragic love is death love is torturous oh but also it is the sustenance of life and we find reasons to endure all of that because we find another person who makes it wortwhile and there is beauty in the grip of love. now here’s a song with heavy social commentary on bigotry and corruption and western colonization and the death of languages and how fucked the world is sometimes oh but also we must build revolutions and fight back and there are countless who do and who have over time and there is hope, so much hope, hope of our own making that what is good and just will prevail. now here’s a song about nothing lasts and existence is futile but also god is it precious, so precious, and we must seize it by the neck and run with it. now here’s a song about transcendence and also would you love me if I were a worm? oh now here’s another song about love and death. and by the way I’m going to form a cohesive narrative throughout the album by taking inspiration from famous literary works, mythology, and concepts. no there are no breaks or intermissions in my album, no room to breathe at all. what do you mean you have whiplash. what is that.

#hozier #unreal unearth #hozier album #andrew byrne hozier #andrew byrne #andrew hozier byrne

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mochifiction · 9 months

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Not a Transformers post but Hozier released his album and no I’m not sane or okay. I wanna talk about Butchered Tongue because there’s barely any discourse about it and I am absolutely inconsolable about it. While there are a lot of elements/ central themes of Irish colonization and the preservation of Irish language and inherently history/ culture with it, as a Person of Color, I was so deeply moved. It is a song of beautiful mourning, of sorrow in the blood and scars that run through the dying of or absolute death of a language. However, it is also a celebration and expression of admiration and awe over the strength and perseverance of language and those who wield it. Every verb, noun, accent, rolling of the tongue. Every simple sound, letter, article. All of it is an act of defiance of the voice to the oppressor. It is a fibre of being healing the deep wounds inflicted by the colonizer. Every utterance screams “We are here and we are moving onward even while still bleeding.” Even then, Hozier still captivated the grief that comes with the fact that…not all cultures have that. Not every community has the ability to learn their languages. Some are gone entirely. Some stopped being passed down for the sake of survival and assimilation. The anguish that comes with a bloody tongue, one that cannot speak what it was born to utter, to scream to sing…it’s a feeling difficult to put into words. To have this song in the Circle of Violence not only brings to light the physical violence against the Irish in their colonization, but the invisible consequences of such brutality on the colonized. The murders and scarring didn’t stop at flesh. Even some languages that survived didn’t escape without scars and wounds, infused with the languages of their colonizer (ex- Tagalog having pieces of Spanish in it). This was a love letter and kiss of praise yet also a funeral dirge to those wounded by colonization, and I have never sobbed so hard over a song before. It stirred such deep grief in me that I cannot explain.

#hozier #unreal unearth #eat your young #all things end #butchered tongue #francesca #wasteland baby #hozier album #i am in agony #i am inconsolable

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fvckingwolfstar · 4 months

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An Excuse For Jealous Sex

pairing: dom!hozier x sub!reader

summary: A request for a jealous hozier and loving overstim, hope it’s what you asked for!

genre: smut!! 18+

word count: 1,785

cw: overstim, lots of overstim, oral sex f! receiving, use of sex toys, public sex, fingering, possessive hozier, begging piv w no condom mention (WRAP BEFORE YOU TAP!)

cw: i love getting requests! don’t feel afraid to send one in. My rules are linked here🫶

smut under the cut

You sat at the bar, looking into the glass of your swirling drink, bored out of your mind. Andrew had went to the bathroom, leaving you in the loud room alone. You play with one of the straps of your lacy tank top as you see a man walk up to where you’re sitting.

“What’s your name?” He shouts over the music and talking.

“Y/n,” you say, not asking for his.

“I’m Matt,” he says, shaking your hand, “Want a new drink?”

“No, I’m not done with this one,” you say trying to show you’re uninterested.

“Well that’s fine, we can go dance instead,” he offers.

“I’m sorry… Max, but I have a boyfriend,” you say as you feel an arm wrap around your waist. You feel a kiss on the top of your head and you smile up at Andrew.

“Oh, I didn’t know —“

“Well, good thing you know now,” Andrew says coolly. He turns you around to face him, “I think it’s time to go, yeah? It’s late,” he hums checking his watch. It was like 9 pm.

You smile, “Yeah, gotta work tomorrow,” you hum, taking his hand. Andrew leads you both out of the bar, shooting a smug look back at Mark… Mike? You roll your eyes, “You don’t have to be a dick.”

He wraps his arm around you tighter as you both walk through the city back to your apartment. “What? Do you think he could treat you better?” he asks condescendingly.

You see what he’s doing, and tonight you wanted to egg him on a bit. You shrug, “Mhm, maybe.”

Instead of answering, he turns into an alleyway with you.

“This isn’t the way home,” you quip.

He doesn’t answer and instead pushes you against a wall, “You’re gonna have to be quiet,” he murmurs against your ear. He kisses your neck softly, making his way down your body as he gets on his knees. He pushes your form fitting skirt up to your waist and kisses your thighs softly. He looks up at you lustfully as he hooks his fingers in your underwear.

You whine as a the cold air hits your cunt, “Shhhhhh,” Andrew hums, smirking. He sucks a mark into your thigh, and drags his tongue from the new bruise to your pussy. The stubble on his cheeks scratches your legs as he goes. He licks between the folds slowly and teasingly, making you moan a little louder.

You press your hand over your mouth, and your other grips onto his hair as he teases you with his tongue. He hums and goes into suck on your clit, circling it with his tongue. You arch your back and gasp at the feeling. Andrew holds your hips into place as he eats you out mercilessly. Your moans grow louder, even though they’re muffled by your hand.

He presses you against tthe wall harder and continues working you with his mouth. Your body shakes over him as you cum in his face without warning. He sucks again, making you shiver before pilling away. He fully slips your panties down your legs and stashes them in his pocket.

He stands up, making sure to steady you, “You alright?” He asks, fixing your skirt.

You nod sleepily. He walks home with you, making sure to keep you awake.

When you get home, he leads you upstairs, stripping you down, “Be a good girl and get on your hands and knees,” he whispers into your ear. He leads you down to the position, “I love seeing you like this,” he hums before running his hand up your back.

You shiver at his touch, pushing back against him, “What to do with you?” he mumbles to himself before stepping away and going to the closet. He rummages through a box quickly before coming back with a vibrator wand. You look over your shoulder just as he switches it on.

While it’s buzzing, he puts it against your thigh lightly and you gasp. He runs it up your thigh, over your ass, and down the other thigh. He brings it slowly to your inner thigh, tediously bringing it up to your heat. As it makes contact with your clit, you whimper softly. “Oh, baby, it’s only on the lowest setting,” he chuckles lowly.

He raises the setting once and lets you revel in the vibrations, while rubbing your back reassuringly. You mewl against the bedspread, your face smashed on its side into the purple duvet. You rubs your hips against the toy, expecting him to pull it away. Instead, he raises the vibration again. “Fuck, Andrew, I’m close,” you warm him. He shushes you and presses the vibrator against you firmly.

Your body aches as you cum, your core becoming more sensitive as he keeps the toy pressed against you. You look back shakily and say, “I… I came.”

“I know, baby,” He says, kissing your hips as he lowers the vibrations, “Lay back down,” he commands softly. He starts to rub your cunt with the toy, setting it to start and stop pattern. You let out a broken gasp, burying your face in your arms. He intensifies the vibrations in the pattern. You arch your back, pushing your hips back into the vibrator, your pleasure intensifying.

You climax again, letting out a raw moan. He finally shuts off the toy, setting it on the bedside table. He rolls you onto your back, chuckling as he sees the wrecked state of you, “Color?” he asks.

You smile up at him, “Green,” you confirm. He smirks and runs his hands down your torso, stopping at your tits to pinch your nipples quickly. He snickers as you gasp. He brings his hand down further, ending at your core. He runs his fingers over your heat, circling your clit slowly.

You stagger a bit, “I already came like three times tonight,” you say softly.

“Who said I was done with you, princess? I haven’t even got to claim you,” He hums, leaning over you to kiss and suck at your neck, his stubble tickling your cheek. You sigh quietly as his fingers slip into you, prodding gently at your g-spot. You begin moving your hips in tandem with his hand, your pants and gasps picking up.

He brings his head up to yours, ghosting his lips above yours before he moves to stand in front of you. He pushes your legs up with his free hand, “You behave so good for me,” he mumbles, his finger movements becoming more intense.

Your moans become choked sobs you feel the painful tugging in your abdomen again. He still doesn’t let up, allowing you to chase your orgasm one more time. You cover your face with your hands, embarrassed of the mess you’re about to make. He pulls your hands away from your face, “I wanna see that pretty face.”

You look up at him, your eyes blurry with tears. You let out a sob as you fall off the edge. He stills his fingers, not taking them out, “Color?” he asks, slightly out if breath.

You lay there for a moment, your legs lax at your sides, trying to catch your breath. “Green,” you say quietly, closing your eyes.

Andrew leans down to kiss you before pulling his pants and boxers off, still wearing the dress shirt he wore before. Now his first few buttons were hastily undone. He pushes his hips against yours, angling himself so he can finally push his length into your sensitive warmth. He lets out a low groan as he does.

He stays there for a second, allowing both of you to adjust, “You don’t know how much I need you, Princess,” he pants as he begins to thrust. He buries himself in your chest, grabbing and sucking on your tits. Worshiping you.

You hold his hair tightly as you whimper. The painful tug in your stomach coming to you quickly, “Please, please, please,” you ramble incoherently.

He brings his callused thumb down to rub at your throbbing clit. You yelp as he does, already overwhelmed by pleasure. He smirks, only circling his thumb around your clit three times before you cum on him again. You claw at his back, letting out sobs of pleasure. He slows down to a stop so you can catch your breath.

“Fuck, Andrew, fuck…” you mumble, not being able to say anything more.

“I haven’t come yet baby,” he whispers in your ear, beginning to move again. You pant softly, your walls sensitive to every move. You tug at the bedsheets, trying to distract from the overwhelming sensitivity in your cunt.

When his strokes become frantic is when you start to moan loudly again. He holds your hips tightly, pounding you relentlessly. You lose yourself in the feeling, the pain becoming pleasure again. You bring your hand down to rub your clit roughly, “Fuck, I’m gonna cum, again.”

He thrusts deeper into you, reveling in your sweet noises. He cums deep inside of you, a deep groan coming from his chest as he does. You cum around his cock, squeezing around him.

“Again, lemme go again,” you babble, “wanna cum again, please, please,” you beg, carding your hands through Andrew’s hair.

He laughs at your state, kissing you quickly, “You wanna cum again?” he asks, “Was this not enough?” He asks, pulling his cock out of you.

“Need it, just one more, fuck please,” you plead, looking up at him with your desperate, teary eyes.

He hums softly, mulling it over in his head. He leans down to kiss your lips deeply, “One more time,” he says. He kneels in front of you again, like he did earlier in the night, and runs his tongue up your thigh and to your cum soaked heat. He licks in between your folds, tasting himself there and humming. He looks up at you as he takes your clit between his lips, sucking and flicking his tongue on it.

You pant as he kisses cunt, his arms around the place where your hips end and your legs begin. He lets his tongue leave the suction cup of his lips, to lick your folds. You hump his face as you grow closer, the pain being traded for pleasure once more. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, thank you,” you mumble, “thank you, I love you.”

As he listens to your babbling, he chuckles against your pussy, sending you over the edge again. You cum on his face with a high pitched cry. You hold his head in place as he eats you through it. He pulls back and leaves kisses to your thighs as you calm down. “Let’s take a bath,” he hums.

#hozier #smut #hozier oneshot #hozier smut #hozier smut oneshot #hozier x reader

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padfootagain · 5 months

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The Car Trap

Hi!!!!! Here I am again, back to my old antics! Yes, I’m adding one more person to my masterlist. Yes, I am going to hell for this, and you know what? I’ll have such a great time!

Anyway, no one asked for this, except for me, as I was desperate for some Hozier fics, and couldn’t find any new ones anymore! So, here we go! Hope you like this, let me know what you think!

****

Pairing: Hozier x reader

Warnings: Angst, fluff, angst to fluff! Friends to lovers, snowed-in… in a car… *hihihihihihhi!!!*

Summary: You're offered a job in Switzerland, and you're ready to accept it. It would offer you a new beginning, a way to forget about the love you have for your best friend. But a trip through a snowstorm with Andrew might change everything...

Word Count: 7282

Hozier’s Masterlist - Main Masterlist

This trip was a disaster.

A fucking, outrageously terrible disaster…

The weather was terrible, for a start. And that was a statement made with an Irish reference, which was saying a lot. It had been raining so hard you had to stop the car for a while as you could not see the road ahead at all. Then it was time for so much wind that your fingers were cramping over the strength used to hold the wheel. Four hours later, it was getting dark, the sun already setting and the sky heavy with clouds that blocked all sunlight. And it was snowing.

Fucking snowing.

Great. Wonderful. Lovely.

Oh, but if only the problem was held by the capricious weather… no… no, this was but a part of the issue. You could even say that this was the top of the iceberg, just a tiny fraction of the shit you were buried under.

Because your phone had died. But then again, you had no signal anyway to get the help of a friendly and absolutely annoying GPS; and in the passenger seat by your side, your best friend was struggling with a fifteen-year old map that was so out-of-date that it might as well have not existed for the help it got you…

You were lost. You were fucking lost, in the middle of nowhere, while it was getting dark and snowing and there was nothing manmade in sight to ask for help.

Wonderful. Truly, wonderful.

Oh, and that was without mentioning that the best friend in question was also the man you had been in love with for years but had never dared confess your feelings to.

Outrageously bad, that road trip, really…

Andrew picked up his phone to get some more light, his glasses perched haphazardly on his nose as he tried to decipher names printed on the large map splayed across his laps; hair held back in a low bun, allowing you to see his focused features.

“So?”

He merely hummed in response, a long finger following a dark line.

“Do you have any idea where we are?” you insisted.

“None whatsoever,” he shook his head.

He sat back in his seat, before rubbing his eyes.

“I mean… we’ll end up crossing a village at one point if we keep going along this road,” he sighed. “I don’t have a better plan for now.”

“We might have to stop at one point, though. The snow is getting heavy.”

“I had never envisioned dying from the cold in the middle of nowhere on some random Irish road…” Andrew joked, his tone almost contemplative, and you couldn’t refrain a chuckle.

“And with you! Absolutely not. There’s no way I’m dying with you, of all people.”

“Why not? You don’t want to see me dying?”

“I don’t want my last moments to be shared with someone as annoying as you.”

He tried to throw back some witty remark, but his laughter was too much to handle.

He had pushed back the seat as far as possible, of course, in an attempt to accommodate his long limbs, but even in this position, his legs were not fully extended before him, his knees hitting the dashboard at every bump of the road.

You forced your gaze to go back to the road again, squinting your eyes to see through the heavy snow that fell now, instead of lingering on his legs.

God… you were so damn ridiculous…

His quiet rumble of a laugh finally died out, but a smile remained set on his features, even though his tone was serious as he spoke again.

“We can still turn the engines on every once in a while to get some heat.”

“Won’t that drain the battery or something?”

“If we don’t do it too much, it should be fine. Besides, it’s not minus twenty outside, relax. We’ll be fine.”

You merely nodded, falling, as always, for the safety in his quiet voice and the warmth of his tone.

Besides, it was easier to believe in the certainty of his voice, in its soothing sound, than to face the snow falling more and more heavily outside, the night creeping over the distant mountains, right beyond the green fields. Their silhouettes were almost made invisible now by the low light, you could only guess their shadows. Despite the headlights, you could barely make out the stony walls on each side of the road, mostly devoured by ivy and thickets. You had slowed down your pace, driving slowly in fear that a wild animal would suddenly jump in front the car, or that you would miss a random house set by the road.

It was also easier to focus on the silly story he was using to quieten your mind rather than to mention the reason behind this trip across the countryside.

You were leaving.

You were leaving Ireland to settle in Switzerland for a job. Or well, nothing was fixed for now, but you had an amazing opportunity. A first trip to the country to meet your future boss in person was planned for the following week, and at the end of these three days spent in Geneva, you had to sign your contract. You would then have about a month to find a place and move there.

So, you and your best friend had decided to enjoy a little road trip together. Driving all the way to the other side of the country. Staying at an Airbnb near the western coast. Enjoying four days together spent by the sea, the cliffs, and an awful lot of chips and beer.

You had been puzzled by Andrew’s reaction when you told him about your new job. He had seemed… unphased by it.

Of course, with his career, he was often away, and you were used not to live close to each other for long periods of time. Still, you were always one of the first people he visited whenever he was home. And while he stayed in Ireland, you spent most of your time together. As if he wanted to soak in as many moments as he could before he would leave again. And yet, when you told him that you would move to another country, he didn’t even blink. He gave you a smile, congratulated you, offered you a warm hug, and that was it. He asked about the job, about the place where you would live… and that was it. No disappointment in the thought of you leaving. No sadness at the thought of not having you around. No heartbreak whatsoever…

But then again, you were a fool for hoping that he would feel this way. Because he was… Andrew. Absolutely-lovely, amazing-hair, siren-voiced, hilariously-witty, unbearably-gentle Andrew. You had been friendzoned a few weeks after your first encounter, and you had no reason to believe that his feelings had changed. Actually, this new job, you took it as an opportunity to forget him. Move on. And not only because many miles would separate your homes, but because you weren’t leaving on your own.

Another one of your colleagues, Tom, had been approached by the same company as you had. He had already accepted the offer, and he was thrilled when he learned that you were leaving for Geneva as well. You knew he had a crush on you. He was pretty obvious about it. If he had never crossed a line, it was clear that he wanted you to give him a chance. And who knew? Perhaps this new beginning, with another man that you quite frankly found great, could mean you finally moving on from your stupid crush on your best friend. A new start, in another country. After spending a few weeks getting used to this new place, this new corporation, this new workplace… perhaps you would give Tom a chance. You desperately needed to forget Andrew, after all…

Of course, you didn’t know that you were completely, utterly wrong… about everything. That Andrew wanted to cry at the mere thought of you leaving. That he held you too tight and for too long that afternoon when, bathed in the neon light of your kitchen, you told him you were moving so far away from him, because he didn’t want you to see the tears in his eyes. He didn’t have the right to hold you back. He was but a friend to you, and friends needed to be supportive, and this was such a great opportunity for you, and… and he was only your friend.

Only your goddamn friend. As if Andrew hadn’t longed to be much more than that after a mere week spent in your company. But you had met before he would leave, touring for his second album, the timing was all wrong. He couldn’t ask you out for a couple of dates just to get you attached to him, before he would disappear for months on the other side of the planet. That wasn’t fair. He wanted to do things the right way. So, he kept his distance at first, unwilling to get too attached himself. But then, when he came home months later… you weren’t single anymore.

The fool… he had lost his chance. And over the years, the two of you had built such a great friendship that he didn’t want to take the risk anymore. Besides, he was certain that you didn’t see him this way. You had been in relationships, he had been in relationships… you had never showed any sign that would make him feel that he was more than a friend to you. Even when he tried to get you jealous, at the beginning, right after your break-up… but it didn’t work. The lure fell into the water in a deafening defeat, and he had made up both his mind and heart. You weren’t interested. He didn’t blame you. With his chaotic lifestyle.. who in their mind would settle for that?

Did it stop Andrew from still being in love with you, even after all this time? No, of course it did not. And the thought that you wouldn’t be home with him anymore…

He looked away, through the window, just to hide the tears that rose to his eyes all over again. He rested his elbow against the cold window, his lips to the back of his hand, biting lightly in the skin to calm down. He had no right to try to hold you back… no right at all… Was it your fault if he was enough of a fool to fall for his best friend? The cliché was almost too much to bear…

When he turned to you again, though, he couldn’t help the warm, fond feeling that invaded his chest at the sight of you. During the moment of silence you were both bathing into, disturbed solely by the wind and the tires over the frozen road, the night had almost conquered the last remnants of sunlight that lingered there, held against the eastern riff of the mountains. The headlights and the dim lights coming from the headboard were enough for him to see your features, though. They were enough for him to long to brush that strand of hair behind your ear, to lean across the car to kiss your cheek, to feel the warmth of your skin, even if for just a second, against his lips…

God, he didn’t want you to leave. What would he do if you left? When would you see each other? Never… If he spent so much time touring and you weren’t home…

God, he would move to Geneva with you if you asked. Even if it were to keep him as a mere friend, that was how badly he needed you in his life…

“Andy… I’m not sure I should keep driving…”

Andrew shook himself out of his thoughts, forced his attention back to the road ahead. You could barely see the road at all, as it was slowly turning white, just like the patches of grass between the road and the low walls…

Andrew shook his head.

“We can’t just stop in the middle of the road either. Just… drive slowly. Let’s try to find somewhere to park.”

You nodded, frowning in your focus.

You kept on driving for a while longer. The night was stark black when you finally found a small space by the road where you could safely park. There was still no house in sight, though… not that you could have seen anything beyond a five meters radius anyway…

You turned off the engine, let the lights go dark. Andrew turned on the light of his phone again.

“You should save some battery,” you argued.

“Got plenty, don’t worry.”

“So… now, what?”

“Now, we wait.”

“And if it keeps on snowing all night? Should we try to get some sleep?”

He merely nodded, setting his phone between the two of you to shed some light all over the tiny space of your car. Andrew reached behind him to get your coats from the backseat.

“We should put these on while they’re still warm.”

You didn’t complain when Andrew unfolded your warm coat, holding it up so you could easily slip your arms inside; nor did you stop him when he straightened it around your frame, reached for the zipper, and closed it for you.

And perhaps it would have been wiser for you to do so… but then again, you were human.

You were still trying to regulate your heartbeat while Andrew was putting on his own coat.

And for the first half-hour, everything was easy. You turned the engines back on for a few minutes when it got too cold, but in such a weather, you were worried your car wouldn’t start with a low battery. After all, it wasn’t exactly brand new.

“What if we get stuck in here?” you asked, worrying about the snow that didn’t give any sign of stopping.

“We’ll freeze to death, probably. At least the cold will preserve our bodies.”

“Good news for the police officer who’s gonna open the door. The smell won’t be too bad.”

“Exactly.”

“How long do you think before they find us?”

“Oh… at least a few weeks, if it snows enough.”

“Don’t you think anyone would notice a car covered in snow by the side of the road?”

“Not if there’s enough snow on it.”

You were the first to break, unable to be serious any longer. And Andrew’s laugh soon found yours, a deep rumble shaking the air around you.

“We won’t get fully snowed in,” Andrew reassured you as your laughter receded, in favour of the hushed quiet of winter. “Don’t worry. Besides, we’re not going to stay here all night. We’ll just wait until the worst of the storm passes. I can drive the rest of the way, if you want.”

“I can keep driving. I think I’ll try to take a nap while we wait though. I need to focus.”

Andrew merely nodded as an answer, adding a soft humming for good measure, before he would offer you a warm smile. He reached for something in his pocket, and put on a beanie and some gloves.

“I’ll keep an eye out,” he added, shifting to get more comfortable, the seatbelt since long discarded.

You tried to do the same, sliding the seat back to get more room to move around. Your eyes settled on Andrew’s features one more time before they closed.

But there was no way you could fall asleep. Beside your troubled mind, you were getting uncomfortably cold again. Enough for your teeth to chatter for a moment, until you tightly set your jaw.

You felt warm skin brush the back of your freezing fingers, heard the low, unapproving humming that Andrew let out at the touch.

“Take these, Y/N.”

You blinked your eyes open, while Andrew was already pushing a glove into your palm.

“You’ll be cold,” you argued, but you were met with a fond glare.

“You are cold.”

You gave up, took the gloves he offered. So large around your hands, the wool soft and still holding the warmth born from his own skin. You tried to stop him from planting his beanie on your head too, but failed.

“You need to stay warm! You’re a singer! You can’t catch a cold!” you tried to argue, but Andrew was already pulling the wool down to cover your ears.

“Don’t worry about me. I’m just fine. Besides, you’re the one who’s always cold.”

“Am not!”

“Are too! Who wears a woollen scarf in June?”

“It was cold!”

“You could turn into an ice cube if left unattended.”

With a great sense of maturity, you stuck out the tip of your tongue, making him chuckle.

It was better, but you were still cold, and so was Andrew now. He was shaking slightly, rubbing his hands together, burying his mouth and nose in his woollen grey scarf to warm it with his breath. But when he tried to shed some light outside again, the snow was still too heavy to drive safely.

“I can’t feel my fucking toes,” he complained, but there wasn’t much that you could do.

Except that you could. It was stupid, probably ineffective, but you were too cold to think straight.

“What if we hugged?”

Andrew let out a laugh.

“I like the sentiment, but that would hardly warm my toes.”

“Isn’t sharing body warmth a surviving technique?”

“Do I look like I would survive in the wild?”

“No, you would either bump your head in a branch so hard you’d knock yourself out to fall right into an endless pit… or you would be spotted by lions from miles away, you and your long limbs…”

“Exactly.”

There was silence again, for a couple of minutes, and you didn’t dare to break it. Instead, you let your eyelids fall again. He had refused to hold you, it was speaking volumes. What if you had made him uncomfortable? What were you expecting anyway? You were just a friend…

A gentle tug on your sleeve made you look up at him.

“Come here.”

“What?”

“We’re both cold, come here. You’re right, body heat sounds like a good idea.”

You joked in an attempt to hide the way your heart jumped in your chest.

“We both know you simply like to be held. Even by me.”

“Anything if I can avoid losing my toes.”

You wished you could claim that the manoeuvre that led you to lie with Andrew was a graceful one, but it truly wasn’t. After bumping into every surface possible and hitting your head against the ceiling twice, you were, however, finally secured in Andrew’s arms.

You moved around a little, trying to get comfortable, but in the tiny space of the passenger seat, there was nowhere for you to lay but on top of him.

If your nerves were getting the better of you at first, you couldn’t help but unwind as Andrew wrapped his arms around your frame, engulfing you within his embrace, pressing you closer to him, even though it didn’t seem possible.

He closed his eyes as he breathed in the sweet scent of your shampoo, but you didn’t notice. You didn’t notice either the way his heart sped up under his ribs, the way his breath caught in his throat. You never seemed to notice. Andrew reckoned that he was pretty obvious, although he did try to hide it all, but you never noticed anything. He couldn’t hide it, though. Even if this would lead nowhere, even if he didn’t stand a chance, he couldn’t help it. Loving you. In all the years he had known you, he had never been able to help it. Perhaps that was what love was all about. Loving beyond reason. Loving even when he wished he didn’t. Loving, and hurting, and having no regrets about it. Hurting, and being willing to go through all this pain all over again, for just a moment more…

He heaved a sigh without noticing, his eyelids lifting to be faced by a wall of darkness spotted with white snowflakes. He was ridiculous. You were leaving, that was the final proof he needed to be certain that he was nothing but a friend to you. If you felt anything for him, you wouldn’t be leaving… right? He had not left. He could have moved to the US a thousand times over, but you were in Ireland. Of course, you weren’t the only reason for him to stay, but you were easily the most important one, the one that carried the most weight.

What was the point of going home after a tour or a long recording session, if home wasn’t where you were?

Pathetic. That was what he was, pathetic…

Besides, you deserved better than what he could offer. Waiting for him for months on end? A constant back-and-forth between nations, a life stuck in a suitcase? No… no, you deserved better than that. Better than what he could offer you. Better than him…

And you were leaving. Final proof…

He held you tighter, and almost released it all in a breath.

Don’t go. Please, don’t go…

“Andy?”

He merely hummed in response.

“I’m pretty sure this is doing nothing to keep us warm.”

“I think it helps.”

“We’re wearing too many clothes.”

“Are you offering a game of strip-poker or something?”

You didn’t look up at him, face still buried in his shoulder, and yet he knew you were rolling your eyes.

“I must be crushing you.”

“You’re breaking all my bones, indeed.”

You tried to move away, but his hold tightened, and he looked down at you with confusion.

“What are you doing?”

“Saving your life? Avoiding you to be crushed to death?”

“I was joking. I’m alright.”

“Really?”

“Yeah… yeah, that’s… nice.”

You weren’t sure what to make of such comment, so you remained quiet instead, breathing deeply his scent, feeling it numb your senses.

“I’ve never seen such a snowstorm,” he pointed out, gaze lost into the darkness ahead.

“Me neither.”

“Not in this part of the world, at least.”

“Typical of Ireland to send me the storm of the century as a farewell gift.”

You felt Andrew tensing under you, his voice was colder than usual as he spoke, but you weren’t sure what to make of it.

“When will you leave? For good, I mean.”

“I have a month after this short stay to find myself a place to rent and get to work.”

“But you’ll come back to visit, right?”

“Yeah, of course! I mean… when I’m on vacation. To see my family.”

“Will I get some free housing in Geneva, then?”

“You thief, as usual.”

“You know me. Always the rascal.”

You closed your eyes as he started to rub your back, the gesture gentle and amazingly soothing.

“Aren’t you afraid to go there on your own?”

“Yeah… yeah, a little bit,” you admitted in a breath. “But… at least Tom will be there.”

“Tom?”

“Yeah, you know? My colleague? He’s very nice, I like him a lot. We’re leaving together.”

His tall frame tensed again, you caught the way his breath staggered.

“What do you mean Tom is leaving too?”

You stared into his hazel eyes; these eyes you dreamt of at night, the ones you adored. They had taken the hue of leaves before Autumn, deep green in a ray of sunshine. They always did when tears came to his eyes. And indeed, you were surprised as you fell into his gaze to find it blurred with tears.

“You… you’re leaving with him?” he asked, voice deeper than usual, shaky, vulnerable.

You were aware, now more than ever, of how close you were. You stared up at him, lost in his eyes, and you thought of how it would be so easy to lean up and kiss him, make his frown melt away, shush his worry with your lips…

“I thought… why…?”

You shrugged, unsure of what he meant to say.

“We’ve been approached by the same company. We’ll both move to Geneva.”

“Together?!”

“I mean… at the same time, yes.”

“But you’re…”

So that was it then… you had found someone else again. And this time you were leaving in another country with this man and…

And Andrew had lost you for good.

He was only too aware of how close the two of you were, of how easy it would have been to simply lean down to kiss you. Press his lips to yours, forget you were choosing someone else…

But he couldn’t forget. He couldn’t take it.

Instead of leaning closer, he pushed you away.

“Get off.”

You frowned at the roughness in his voice, the coldness in his tone, and Andrew wished he could control himself, be gentle, the way you deserved, but he needed to get away if he wanted to keep breathing…

“Please, get off me.”

You blinked tears away, and he hated himself for being the cause of such a sight, but he didn’t stop you when you ungracefully pushed yourself back into the driver’s seat. And Andrew watched as you stared at him, expectant, like you didn’t understand that you were breaking his heart in a million pieces…

And he couldn’t take it.

You were so surprised when Andrew opened the door and climbed out of the car that you didn’t stop him. He was already out of sight when you shook yourself enough to grab his phone, the only source of light available, and jumped out of the car as well.

The wind was bitterly cold as it assailed your cheeks, the snow rough and sharp digging into your skin.

“ANDREW!”

You hurried around the car, struggling with the slippery ground.

Above the wind, there was nothing to be heard but your own voice. Betrayed by the night, even this sound seemed to fade too fast to reach anything out of your sight. And Andrew was nowhere to be seen, the darkness too thick for that, the elements howling too loudly.

“ANDREW!”

A thud. A groan. A hiss. You followed the sounds in a hurry, and sure enough, mere seconds were needed to find your friend half-lying in the snow, a hand gripping at the low stone wall.

“ANDY!”

You kneeled by his side, uncaring of the sharp sting of the frozen ground under your knees.

“Are you alright?”

But he nodded, without a word. He seemed in pain, you brushed a loose strand of his hair behind his ear, and he leaned into your touch without noticing.

“You’re okay? What the fuck are you doing?!”

“You’re leaving for him, right?”

“What on earth are you talking about?!”

“TOM! FUCKING TOM!”

He moved away from your touch, but winced as he leaned against the wall. Your eyes grew round in worry, and when you turned the light towards the stones, there were traces of blood there.

“Oh God… Andy, you’re hurt!”

“It’s nothing,” he shook his head.

“Let me see…”

But he stood up instead, and you followed close. He was towering you, the way he always did. The difference in height had not been so obvious in the car, but now, he was standing before you in his full, impressive height, and the way he glared made it more intimidating than usual.

“You’re really leaving for a fucking guy you met at work?!”

You frowned, shaking your head.

“Andy, I’m not…”

“Have you lost your fucking mind?!”

“Andy…”

“For how long have you two even been together?”

“We’re not! We’re not together.”

It was his time to frown in confusion.

“What?”

“Tom and I, we’re not together. We’ve been approached by the same company, that’s all. Although, if I’m being honest… I might give him a chance.”

“What?”

You noticed how he was out of breath, of course you did. He didn’t seem angry anymore, just…sad. Unbearably sad…

“Well, he’s nice… and… I know he likes me. But… can we go back to the car now?”

“Don’t go with him.”

You stared up at him, his hair messed by the wind as more strands were breaking free from his bun. Snowflakes stained the dark locks with white. Some got caught in his long eyelashes. The biting cold was turning his sharp cheekbones red. In the dim light, you couldn’t believe the words that were coming out of his mouth, even though you could see the lips moving with the vowels, closing with consonants…

“Don’t go. Y/N… don’t go.”

These were words you were longing to hear, and yet, now that he was finally speaking them out loud, you couldn’t take them in.

He had acted like he didn’t care for weeks, and now, all of a sudden, he claimed that he was hurting?

“That’s rich coming from someone who spends barely any time home.”

You knew you were being mean, and you felt guilty as a shock of pain ran through Andrew’s features, enough so to bring tears back in his eyes. Still, you didn’t take your words back.

“That’s not the same. This… this is still my home.”

“This is a great opportunity for my career. This would be a new start. I’m excited about it. And Tom is nice. He likes me. He wants me…”

“You’re saying that like you don’t have a family and friends and people who love you already.”

“You know what I mean. This is a great opportunity, Andy. I want to take it.”

You noticed the way he clenched his jaw, the way the muscle jumped there as he lowered his gaze to the ground, nodding slowly.

“You’re right… that’s a great opportunity. You should take it…”

But instead of you agreeing, he was surprised as you huffed in annoyance, and turned your back to him.

“Get your arse back in the car, come on.”

“Y/N…”

“I don’t understand what you want, Andy!” you hissed as you turned back to him, and he hated the sharpness in your voice, it felt like a knife. “You act like you don’t give two fucks about me leaving for weeks! And now… now you’re acting like you want me to stay…!”

“Of course, I want you to stay! But I’m your friend, I’m supposed to be here for you, and to support you and encourage you…”

“So you’re glad that I’m leaving?” your voice rising into a shout, and his tone matched yours when he answered, making you tremble under his deep, powerful voice.

“Of course not! Are you listening to yourself?! Why would I want you to move to fucking Geneva!”

“Because you didn’t say a thing about it!” you were crying, but you didn’t even notice, too busy letting your feelings out, at long last. “Because everyone else tried to convince me to stay, and you didn’t!”

“I tried to be supportive!”

“Well, I didn’t want you to supportive!”

“What did you want then?!”

“The truth!”

“Well, I don’t want you to leave! Here’s your fucking truth! And I don’t want you to leave with fucking Tom! I want you to choose me!”

He was out of breath now, and as he moved closer to you and the light you still held tightly in your hand, you finally noticed that he was crying as well.

“Choose you?” you asked, confused and slightly calmer, even if your voice kept on shaking. “Why would you want me to choose you…?”

“BECAUSE I LOVE YOU!”

The words were out before he could hold them in; failing this time at this game he had played a thousand times before, every time the words almost slipped out, when he bit his tongue until it hurt so you wouldn’t hear his heart. Your eyes grew round like you were surprised, shocked even, like this was not the most obvious truth in the world, like he had not spent years loving you in secret, leaving traces of his bleeding heart all over the place…

He almost wanted to laugh at you, at your round eyes and parted lips and all that snow caught in your hair and the way he longed to kiss that shock off your face. He didn’t though. Because you took a step back, and he read fear in your eyes, and he realised then that you were slipping away, sand between his fingers although he tried to hold tight.

“Y/N…” he breathed, voice taken away by the wind before it could reach you.

You hurried to the car instead of answering, and he followed you this time, shivering in the cold. And once you were back in the safety of your vehicle, the seats had lost their warmth, and the tiny space between the two of you seemed unbearably vast, a chasm you would never be able to close or cross.

You were both staring out by the windshield, while the snow finally receded. You could start driving again…

“Can you say something?”

“We should try to drive again.”

“Y/N… please…”

But as you turned to him, it was to stare at his palm, not his gaze.

“You’re bleeding.”

Andrew followed your gaze, looked down at his own hand. There was a long cut across the palm, red with blood, darkened with dirt on some spots. In the dim light, it was hard to tell how deep the cut was. It hurt, that was for sure. And yet, he didn’t care. You were more painful than an open wound.

“It’s nothing…”

“Let me see.”

You took off the gloves he had lent you, and Andrew didn’t have the strength to stop you as you gently reached for his hand, cradled it in yours, held it to the light to get a better view. Your skin was warm and soft against his cold one, and the thought that you could hate him, that you could resent him for sharing feelings he knew as unrequited made the tenderness of your hold almost unbearable.

“How did you hurt yourself?”

“I slipped in the snow. Caught myself to the wall. Sharp stone.”

You heaved a sigh, the sound was almost annoyed, but not quite. More like… worried.

“Hold the light, would you?”

He didn’t think as he obeyed, yielding to your will, the way he always did. You grabbed a bottle of water and some tissues from the glove box, and started to slowly clean up his cut. You were leaning closer to do so, and Andrew couldn’t help himself as he leaned forward as well, longing for your nearness, basking in the touch of your hand as it came back to cradle his, drawn to you like a moth to a flame.

The breath he let out before speaking again was shaking.

“Do you hate me?”

You looked up, seemed to realize how close the two of you were. You could easily lean up and kiss him, and he could easily lean down and press his lips to yours. Instead, you both remained motionless, perfectly still, merely staring while he waited for an answer you thought was too obvious to be spoken.

“Why would I?” you asked back.

“Because… because we’re friends. And I caught feelings. And… maybe you hate me now that you know that I don’t… I don’t see a friend in you at all. Now that you know that I lied.”

But you didn’t answer, instead, you lowered your gaze again, and Andrew jumped and let out a hiss as you pressed the wet tissues against his broken skin.

“I’m not angry,” you finally reassured him. “I’m just… I don’t really believe you, I think.”

“What? Why wouldn’t you?”

You shrugged, and despite your claim of being calm, the smile that formed on your lips was bitter when you spoke.

“For how long have we been friends? And you’ve never said anything? Never felt anything, until I decided to go away? And now, all of sudden, you’re catching feelings?”

“I’ve never said these feelings were new.”

“You friendzoned me, back in the days. Do you remember that?”

Andrew winced, but nodded anyway.

“This… this was different.”

“Because I was just a friend?”

“Because I was the one leaving. Because it wasn’t fair to ask you out just to disappear for months while I was touring.”

Finally, you looked up again, trying to read something in his eyes, and whatever it was, Andrew hoped that you would find it there. He hoped you could see that he was being earnest, that he meant it, that there was no doubt to have. He had never doubted his love for you, even if he had refrained it. It had been a truth he had relied on for years. With a bit of luck, you might want to rely on it too…

“But then you came back… why didn’t you say anything then?”

“You weren’t single anymore. It was my turn to get friendzoned.”

The ghost of a smile formed on his lips, a soothing offering. But it was sad all the same.

“And after that?”

“After that… you were already my best friend. You… I didn’t want to lose you. And you… you deserved better than that. You deserve better than what I can give you. Waiting around while I disappear for months, what kind of life is that?”

You stopped breathing as he lifted his unharmed hand up to your face, brushing his fingertips across your cheek, the way he had longed to for years.

If his heart was staggering behind his ribs, if his breath was caught in his throat because of this gentle touch of your skin, when he closed his eyes to gather his strength, there was a tear breaking free.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I know you don’t feel the same,” he shook his head as he opened his eyes again, falling into your gaze, and he saw there the same tears he tried to withhold in his own eyes. “I know it’s a one-sided thing. I didn’t… I didn’t want to break everything. I’m sorry.”

He was surprised when you shook your head and leaned into his touch, forcing his hand to open so he could cradle your face in his palm, long fingers disappearing into your hair and tenderly brushing your skin.

“God, you’re such an idiot.”

He raised a surprised eyebrow, not daring to move or reply. You started laughing, and he was at a loss.

“We’re both so damn stupid!”

He had to blink to make sure that he wasn’t imagining your movement as you slowly closed the gap between the two of you, as you leaned up to meet him. He was too surprised by it to meet you halfway; he was too taken aback by the feeling of your lips against his to kiss you back. It took him a couple of seconds to process that this was truly happening, that he was not, in fact, lost in one of the many dreams he’d had of this moment. But then your hand was in the mess of his curls, and you were pressing your lips more firmly against his, and he allowed himself to believe that you wanted this as well, that perhaps he had been, indeed, such an idiot for failing to see what was right in front of him, the same way you had missed all of his gestures along the years.

And you wished you could admit to yourself that you were keeping control over the situation, having instigated the kiss, but you melted into his touch the second Andrew responded and kissed you back. His hold on your face tightened slightly, a tinge of desperation held in the gesture. You tightened your hold on his wounded hand, and he responded by twisting his wrist until he could hold onto your hand too. You chased after him as he pulled away, but he left only for a second, just long enough to tilt his head slightly to the side, bettering the angle of his next kiss so he could deepen it. And the second you could properly taste him on your tongue, you lost track of everything but him: the warmth of his scent, the softness of his touch, the smoothness of his skin, his curls running through your fingers, the gentle scratching of his beard, and the overwhelming feeling of being kissed by him. The feelings he poured into the intimate gesture… no one had ever kissed you like that before…

When you broke apart, at long last, both of you breathless, blinking the dizziness of the kiss away in an attempt to find back an earthly footing, Andrew pressed his forehead to yours, afraid, perhaps, that if he got too far, he would wake.

“I don’t see you as a mere friend either, in case that was still unclear,” you clarified, tone half-joking, making him smile.

“Right…”

“You’re okay?”

“Just… trying to assess whether I’m awake or dreaming right now.”

Playfully, you pinched his shoulder, making both of you laugh.

“Awake,” you confirmed. “Even your wild imagination could not have pictured the storm of the century as a background for our first kiss.”

“First? Can I have another, then?”

You couldn’t refrain a giggle, gently shaking your head at him, brushing your nose against his in the process.

“A true thief, as always.”

“Of the worst kind only.”

His thumb caressed your cheekbone, soft touch across your soft skin, making your eyes flutter shut as your heart lost its rhythm.

“If you want to take this job in Geneva, we can still make it work.”

You lifted your eyelids again and pulled back, just to fall right into his hazel eyes.

“Just… don’t choose Tom…”

You shook your head, giving him a reassuring smile. Your hands moved to hold his face in both of your palms, to make sure he would keep staring at you as you answered.

“Fuck Tom. Fuck Geneva. I’d rather go on a date with you.”

Andrew let out a chuckle, eyes crinkling as he smiled. Still, he had tears in his eyes all over again.

“You said it yourself, though. It’s a great opportunity for you.”

“I want to stay. If we give this a try, I want to stay.”

“Y/N…”

“I’m sure.”

“I’ll be away for months…”

“And you’ll be the one paying for the plane tickets, I’m not emptying my bank account when I’ve got a millionaire as a boyfriend.”

You both laughed, and Andrew nodded, at last.

“Fair enough.”

You were about to speak but didn’t have the time, Andrew was leaning to kiss you again instead, and you couldn’t complain, didn’t want to stop his fall towards your mouth.

He hissed and pulled away too fast though, after mere seconds, looking down at his wounded palm that he had tried to press against your back.

“I should clean this up, and then we can keep on driving,” you proposed, and Andrew agreed with a nod, obediently holding his hand still while you took care of him. He did lean to kiss your forehead a couple of times though, and you were both still quite amazed that he could do it, or that he wanted to.

You would have to get used to it though. After the storm had passed, after you had found your way back onto the right road, after you had reached your destination, there was plenty of time to talk, to confess feelings you had both refrained for too long, for holding onto each other too tightly, for kissing until lips were bruised and numb and yet still willing.

Perhaps, this trip was not such a disaster, after all…

#hozier #andrew hozier byrne #the hoziest #hozier x reader #hozier fanfiction #hozier fanfic #hozier oneshot #hozier x y/n #hozier x you #andrew hozier byrne x reader #andrew hozier byrne x you #andrew hozier byrne x y/n #hozier fic #fanfiction #fanfic #writing

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velvetcrimsonkisses · 2 months

Text

Whiskey- Nanami Kento

Note: I have been listening to Hozier new ep guys 🙏 the songs are just omg they remind me of Nanami 😩. Also please feel free to leave requests I wanna write more but I need more inspoooo

WC: 730

CW: pretty much just sweet af sex. Pussy eating, dirty talk, riding him

Nanami x Fem!reader

Every evening Nanami would have a glass of whiskey and a cigar after work, sitting on his leather recliner, and his pretty wife on his lap. He loved this time with his wife, just you and him in the dimly lit living room, talking, flirting, and sensual touches here and there. That spark you have for each other never disappears as Nanami made it his mission to always have quality time with you.

Both of your faces flush pink and red as you make out. You can taste the rich and smooth taste of the whiskey mixed with the earthy flavor of the cigar on his lips. His hands lingering on your back, running them down the curve of your ass, and to your thighs. All his favorite parts and he always knew how to turn you on.

You slowly pull away to catch your breath and you could almost moan at just the sight of your husband. His hair a bit disheveled due to you tugging on it, his dress shirt wrinkled with a few buttons already unbuttoned at the top revealing his collar bones, and his huge print in his pants. You quickly kiss him again, this time straddling him, his hands quickly returning to their respective place on your ass.

The ache in your core is almost unbearable as you begin to grind against him. Nanami throws his head back as the sudden friction drives him insane. The way your hips moved against his clothed cock makes him feel intoxicated. He couldn’t get enough of you and your scent.

“You like that baby?” you coo into his ear as you continue rocking into him.

Nanami nods as he quickly picks you up. “I think we should continue this in our bedroom… don’t you think honey?”

Nanami places you on your shared bed, as he begins to discard your bottoms and top. He stands over you for a second, admiring your body. Your soft skin combined with your sultry expression made his cock tingle with excitement of what was to come.

“You are just gorgeous.” He utters as he kneels down between your thighs. You feel the heat spreading to your face at his words as he spreads your legs open, meeting face to face with your glistening cunt. He peppers soft kisses on the inside of your thighs before pressing a chaste kiss to it.

“May I eat you out darling?” Nanami asks as he peers up at you from your heat. You quickly nod yes, desperate for him to relieve the itch you have for him.

“Use your words babe.” he remarks. “Yes, you can eat me out.” you croak out as you throw your head back as he quickly attaches his mouth to your heat. Nanami takes his time eating you out, his long, thick tongue combined with his fingers stretching you out. Delivering orgasm after orgasm to you.

“So sweet, almost too sweet.” He whispers, bringing his fingers to his mouth to suck your cum off. Maintaining contact with those honey brown eyes.You watch him blissed out, thinking about how lude your husband can be behind closed doors.

As you come down from your high. You ask Nanami to ride him and he of course says yes. He loves watching you struggle to ride his big fat cock.

“C’mon honey, you can do it.” His fingers gripping your ass as you try to lower yourself deeper onto his cock. “Good Girl.” He wraps his arms around your waist. Nanami was now fully stuffed inside your tight pussy. “I know baby girl, I know. Start moving slowly so it feels good.” He coos into your ear as you begin riding him.

“Kento you're so big, so good....” you whine as you bounce on his cock. Nanami goes to town on your tits. Sucking and kissing them as you ride him. You close your eyes as the pleasure slowly takes over you.

“Look at me princess.” He grunts as his grip on your ass tightens. The two of you make eye contact as you orgasm together, hugging each other as tight as you could.

As you both come down from your high. Nanami lays you down on the bed. He looks at you with complete adoration as he presses his forehead against yours.

“I love you.” he whispers softly as you both drift off to sleep.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk nanami #jujutsu nanami #nanami smut #nanami kento #nanami x reader #kento nanami #nanami fanart #jujustu kaisen x reader #jujustu kaisen smut #jujustu kaisen headcanons #jujustu kaisen fluff

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seenoversundown · 6 months

Text

Golden Wings

I saw this tweet about hozier leaving love notes around the house for his partner to find and I could not stop thinking about it. Good luck!

Warnings: None, pure fluff

Word Count: 1.9k

I wake as I always do, surrounded by his scent. Woodsy, dark, and a tad floral. I do a big stretch followed by a small whine. I go to reach over to Andrew’s side trying to feel any trace of him.

“Andrew?” I murmur, my voice still heavy with sleep. I continue to paw at his side of the bed until I feel his abandoned pillow. I force my eyes to open and glance around the room, and realize I am most definitely alone. I prop myself up, a little sad I missed him this morning. But then out of the corner of my eye I notice a soft pale blue square against our dark emerald sheets. I lean over and grab it, becoming a little giddy when I realize it’s a note.

The goddess of the day has risen, how I am unworthy to love such an ethereal being.

When you are ready, there is breakfast downstairs.

All my love, ~A.

I read and reread the small note probably a dozen times. His words always have a way of piercing into my heart directly and making a home inside. I hold the soft blue square to my chest and wonder how lucky I had to have been to have found Andrew.

I slip on a matching cream colored silk set, Andrew’s favorite, and slowly make my way down to the kitchen. I glance around our small home as I walk through the hallways and wonder how we were able to move into here only four months ago but it’s felt like forever. It feels right. As I round the corner, the aroma of breakfast hits me.

“Love, it smells divine,” I say. I’m greeted with silence in return, just another small pale blue square.

Light of the day, your breakfast awaits you warming in the oven. I didn’t want to wake you- you looked so peaceful, but I had to run to the studio this morning just for some final touches.

I will be home in a few hours to you, my love, I promise.

For now, eat your breakfast. Get your strength for the day. Look for more notes. I have plans for you.

All my love,

~A.

Again, I can’t help but reread his words, hearing his voice as if he’s reading them directly to me. Once I tuck the note in a safe place I open the oven to look at what awaits me. Andrew wasn’t lying. A fully prepared breakfast sits on a plate in the warm oven. He’s left oven mitts for me on top of the stove, which I grab eagerly. Breakfast smells even better when it’s sitting right in front of me. Veggie bacon, eggs sprinkled with cheese and spinach, toast with butter and maple sugar.

As I sit down at my plate ready to devour the spread in front of me I spot Andrew’s discarded robe on the seat next to me. I don’t even hesitate as I reach out for it, wrapping myself in his scent and warmth. I feel even more relaxed now, if that was even possible, as I eat my meal.

I finish up my toast basking in the silence of our home. I can’t help but wonder when Andrew will be home, so I go find my phone to send him a text.

Y/N: Thank you for breakfast, my love. I miss you.

A: You are so welcome, my dove. Look for the notes. I’ll be home before you know it. I miss you more.

My heart flutters at his words like always as I go to put my cell phone in his robe pocket. Sliding it into the soft pocket, I swear I hear a paper-like crunch. I’m quick to take my phone right back out and stick my hand in to feel for the noise. It doesn’t take long before I pull out a small pale blue square identical to the ones before it.

I knew you would put this on, my sweet. I have never known such a love as the love you give to me, I am forever in awe of you.

Till we are bones, my love.

All my love,

~A.

My heart thumps in my chest. I take the little note and add it to my ever-growing pile. Snagging a cup of tea, I walk around our sunlit living room and tend to our ‘plant children’. The monstera has always been my favorite, even though I tell Andrew they’re all my favorites. They do say you’re not supposed to have a favorite child. I don’t hesitate as I walk up to her, murmuring my good mornings and inspecting her as I grasp my mug of tea, bringing it to my lips. As soon as Andrew called me his, he kept my favorite kind of tea in superfluous supply wherever he lived- just for me. It doesn’t take me long to notice a little blue square nestled in her leaves. Of course he knew.

Seeing you wearing my ring drives me mad. Watching you in the mornings, with it shining off the light as you talk to our plants is one of my favorite rituals. The way you speak to them with such kindness, such empathy- I cannot wait to raise our children together. A goddess such as yourself will be perfect with them.

To the blues.

All my love,

~A.

I quickly glance down at my ring once I finish reading his words, immediate feelings of giddiness fill my chest. The perfect moss agate ring sits in a golden crown on my finger. I touch it, remembering the moment Andrew got down on his knee. He is always nervous when it comes to us- but not that day. That day, he was so confident. Bringing me to his hometown, showing me all of the places he used to go as a ‘young lad’ as he’d say. That trip I knew I needed him forever, and I guess he needed me just as much. I watched as he spoke Gaelic with the townsfolk in passing, his voice hitting my ears in such a dreamy way.

It was when he brought me up to his favorite hill, the one he watched the sunset every day when he lived here, that he asked me to be his. Looking at the setting sun, wrapped in each other's arms, he feigned that he had forgotten something, and got up and started to look around.

‘Andrew, what’s going on?’ I had said to him. When he turned to me his green eyes were the brightest I’ve ever seen them, I swear.

‘Love, can you stand for me?,’ he said.

I think subconsciously I knew what was happening, even if I didn’t want to believe it. Tears freely fell from my eyes as he poured his heart and soul out to me, reaching out every so often to wipe a tear or give me a lingering kiss on my forehead. When he finally got down on his knee, I was a sobbing wreck. I can’t remember what he said, just me nodding and practically screaming ‘Yes! Yes! A thousand times yes!’.

Now his ring, his beautiful, intricate golden ring just for me sits on my finger. I sit in his chair, even though it’s usually both of us squished into it every night, and play with my ring. I watch as it hits the sunshine and sends dancing light around the room. It’s then, as I’m looking at the light, I notice another small pale blue note. I practically run to it, ready to read more of Andrew’s words. I take a moment once I have it to enjoy the anticipation before I read it.

Once the Gods realize you have escaped with their golden wings I’ll be in so much trouble.

But, for now, you are mine. Do they know you’re here, love? Did I have it wrong and you were sent just for me?

I’ll never be sure, but I’ll be eternally grateful for you.

All my love,

~A.

He’s trying to kill me I swear to anyone who is listening. It’s never been an act with Andrew, this has always been him. The love and adoration he gives me is unmatched. I can’t help but feel like I’m the luckiest person with him. I finish the rest of my tea, adding my two new notes to my pile that won’t seem to stop growing.

I make my way to our shared bathroom and am a little surprised when I see another note. He truly thought of everything. I do my morning routine to try and prolong reading his letter, the anticipation is delicious. Once I do finish taking care of myself I carefully peel his note off of the mirror and finally allow myself to read it.

I cannot wait to see those eyes shine just for me. Thinking about it now I swear my heart skips an entire beat. That can’t be healthy, but you- you are my own personal drug. Stronger than all the others there is you. I need you.

All my love,

~A.

My eyes scan his letter too many times, taking in the way he writes his t’s and dots his i’s. I take out my phone and pull up my texts to Andrew.

Y/N: I need you as bad as you need me, love. I hope studio time is going well. Come home to me soon.

A: You are the very air I breathe, my dove. See you soon.

My heart flutters knowing he’ll be home soon. I decide I’ll stay in his robe and his favorite silk set and surprise him. Confident in that decision, I grab the book I’m currently reading and snuggle back up on our chair while I wait for him. I scroll on my phone for a bit, getting lost in social media for a little too long. Once I finally resign and open my book, a final little blue note falls out onto my lap. I can’t help but laugh, and wonder a little when he even did all of this. I waste no time reading the note.

In every lifetime, I hope to find you. Our souls are destined to be intertwined throughout the centuries. You are the only one for me.

I can’t wait to kiss you soon.

All my love,

~A.

My heart is fully melted. All of his words from this morning play on repeat as I stare at this one note. How can one man be so fucking eloquent? I’m so lost in thought, I don’t hear the front door open or close.

“Dove?” Andrew shouts from the doorway. I’m on my feet in seconds, after all of these notes I missed my man something fierce this morning. He laughs when he sees me, arms outstretched ready for me. “There’s my dove. I hope you liked my notes this morning.” He says to me inbetween interrupting kisses.

“Loved them? Oh Andrew, you have no idea. You know, I missed waking up to you this morning.”

“I’m sorry dove, let me make it up to you.” He hoists me up in his arms and quickly kicks off his shoes before walking down the hallway to our bedroom. My laughter echoes in the hall, I’ve never been so in love.

Masterlist | Taglist

#hozier #andrew hozier byrne #hozier fic #hozier fluff #seenoversunqueue #hozier x reader #hozier one shot

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moonstruckme · 6 months

Note

hey :)) first off, i love the hozier caption in your bio. second, I’ve been reading so many of your fics recently and i think you’re sooo talented! i wanna be like you when I grow up (im 20 almost 21 lol)

anyways, I’ve never really requested anything but i wanna give it a try. I was wondering if you could do a poly!marauders x reader fic or a just remus x reader fic where’s she’s driving and accidentally hits an animal and is really upset about it but they’re there to help to her move it and comfort her.

i just hit a cat and im not taking it well. we think it was just a stray cause I left my number with it in case but no one has called. my family kinda, but not really, made fun of me for being so sad about it and i kinda just need something with the guys being so affectionate and loving with her after everything.

it’s totally okay if youre not up to it! I understand that it’s such a hard topic so I won’t be offended if you don’t feel comfortable writing in this.

thank you again and im sooo looking forward to youre future work!! you’re talented, brilliant, incredible, amazing, show stopping, spectacular, never the same, totally unique, completely not ever been done before (lady gaga)

Mwah mwah mwah <3<3

-aves

(sorry this is so long)

Hi sweetheart, thank you so much! (Is your username a Lizzy McAlpine reference? I love that) I'm really sorry you went through this, I've been fortunate enough to have never hit an animal but I've seen it happen and it's so horrible, I'm really sorry you've been dealing with this :(( I think you did the right thing by leaving your number with it, and I hope the weight of that trauma and grief is starting to lift off you my love. Thank you for requesting <3

cw: mention of killing an animal, reader feeling guilty

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.8k words

James hears the door and is up instantly, bounding down the hall to greet you and Sirius.

“Hello!” he calls ahead, eager for company after being left alone in your flat for over a half hour. “You guys took your time today, I thought even Remus might beat you home. Was traffic a riot, or…”

Sirius is looking at him with panic in his blue-gray eyes, clearly trying to convey one of those telepathic messages James has never been great at interpreting, and you…you’re looking at nothing. Your gaze is distant as you work off your shoe, the area around your eyes puffy and gray with smudged mascara.

“Hey,” James breathes, then feels stupid. It sounds like he’s accusing you of something. He tries again. “Is everything okay?”

Sirius gives him a look that says What do you think? and crouches beside you to help with a stubborn knot in your shoelace. Your hands are trembling, James notices. Dread settles like a stone in his stomach.

“I’ve got it,” Sirius murmurs to you, fingers gentle as they intercept your own, but the alarm doesn’t leave his expression as he watches your face. Ah. As much as it kills James to see you upset, Sirius will have no idea what to do with you in this state. Tears have always set him on edge.

James squats, joining the two of you on the floor. “Hi, sweetheart.” He does his best to keep his own anxiety out of his voice as his hand finds your ankle, fingers wrapping around the bit of skin between the hem of your jeans and your socks. “Has something happened?”

Your eyes meet his already full of tears, and James braces himself. Sirius does too, by the look of it, his shoulders tensing as he watches your face like you’re about to crumble away to nothing right here on their doormat.

“I—” That’s all you get out before you have to bite down on your lip to keep from crying. A tiny whimper escapes, and spider web cracks spread across James’ heart. A sluggish tear leaks from your right eye.

“It’s okay,” he swears, though he has no way of knowing it. You press the back of your hand to your mouth, trying to quell the sobs that shake your frame even with no air to feed them. “Oh, honey.” James leans forward, wrapping you in an awkward but very heartfelt hug, your knees between his chest and yours but your head crossing the distance to wet his shoulder with your tears.

A sympathetic pressure builds in James’ sinuses, but he does his best to breathe through it. Stability tends to help you more than sympathy in these situations, and since Remus isn’t home yet, it’s left to James to be the reasonable one (Sirius would have all sorts of jokes to make about that, but he doesn’t seem to be feeling up to them either).

He gives you a few moments of reprieve, a few passes of his palm up and down your spine, before trying again. “What’s going on?” he asks, gently as he can. “You guys are scaring me. Sirius?”

Sirius’ brow pinches like he almost doesn’t want to say it either, and the anticipation in James’ chest heavies. “We were driving home,” he says slowly, keeping a wary eye on you lest he worsen your upset, “and a rabbit ran in front of the car.”

Relief nearly chokes James at the same time as a sympathetic sorrow takes ahold of him. He pets the back of your head. You tremble with the force of your crying, leaning into his touch greedily.

“She was driving?” he asks quietly, though he’s nearly sure. If your reaction isn’t enough to go off of, he already knows that you usually pick Sirius up from work and drive the both of you home.

Sirius nods.

“It doesn’t sound like there was anything you could do,” he murmurs to you, cupping the back of your neck to encourage you to look up at him. You do, sniffling as your lip quivers, and James uses his thumb to brush a wet streak of mascara from your blotchy cheek.

“It must have been so scared.” Your voice breaks on the last word and James’ heart along with it, leaving a throbbing wound in the center of his chest.

“I doubt it had time to be scared, honey,” he tries to reassure you, but his own voice is fraught. He looks to Sirius. “Did you…do you know if it…passed?”

Sirius is half hiding behind his hair, a sure tell of his disquiet, and it brushes his shirt collar when he nods again. “We weren’t sure at first, so I got out to move it off the road. It was dead.” He winces at his wording, and you bite down on your lip harshly. His tone softens as he addresses you. “I really don’t think it felt any pain.”

You look nowhere near ready to believe him, and James is preparing to offer to make you a cup of tea and let you sort out your grief at your own pace when the front door opens again, stopping when it hits Sirius’ side.

“Oh.” Remus pokes his head through. “Hello. Why are we all sitting on the floor?”

Sirius scoots the rest of the way out of the door’s path before deciding to stand instead. He speaks to Remus in a low voice while James runs a hand up and down your side in an attempt to soothe you. He locks eyes with Remus over your shoulder, watching as the taller boy’s gaze takes on the weight of understanding.

“Oh, I’m so sorry.” Remus wraps Sirius in a half-hug, kissing his surprised boyfriend on the temple before stooping beside you. “That must have been awful to have to see. Let’s get you up, yeah?” He wraps a spindly hand around your forearm, more encouragement than anything, and James grips your other hand as he stands to pull you up with him.

Neither of them seem quite willing to break contact with you, walking you over to the couch like a newborn fawn despite your murmured I’m okay. Sirius follows close behind. The both of you look like you’re perching rather than sitting, unable to completely relax even now that you’re home.

“It must have been quite a scare,” Remus sympathizes, sitting on the edge of his favored armchair.

“A bit,” Sirius mutters, and your throat bobs.

Remus cocks his head. “What’re you thinking, darling?”

James almost wants to look away at the rawness in your expression as you raise your eyes to meet Remus’. “I just…I can’t believe I killed it. I’ve never” —your voice pitches, and you swallow again— “I’ve never killed anything before.”

“It was an accident,” James tells you, beseeching.

“You couldn’t have stopped,” Sirius says. His voice has an odd, desperate quality to it, and James sees Remus notice it at the same time as he does, both boys leaning forward to see Sirius better. For the first time, James notices—had he missed it before, or has it only just started?—that Sirius is trembling slightly too. James’ free hand twitches instinctively toward him, but his dark-haired boyfriend is only touchy when he’s in a good mood. He’s not keen on physical comfort; no matter how many years James has worked on him, Sirius has always preferred to keep his struggles internal. “Or avoided it,” he goes on. “It happened too fast.”

Remus nods at you. “As awful as it is, these things happen sometimes. Hopefully,” he adds when another tear slips down your cheek, “never again to you, but selfish as it is, I’m glad you didn’t slam on the brakes or anything else that could have gotten you and Sirius hurt instead.”

You glance at Sirius, and he gives you a weak smile, taking your hand and squeezing gently.

“Nothing you could have done,” he whispers.

Your lips tremble again. James watches as panic flashes in Sirius’ eyes, but he keeps it together. “I’m really sorry,” you tell him, voice wavering. “I shouldn’t have made you take care of the bunny by yourself.”

James' chest aches as Sirius takes a steadying breath. “You were frazzled. Understandably upset,” he corrects himself, squeezing your hand again. This time you squeeze back. “It was a one-man job anyway.”

You make a soft sound, leaning your head on his shoulder, and James has the sense something has settled a bit in each of you. He raises your joined hands to his lips, kissing the back of yours as Remus’ eyebrows furrow.

“Have you had a chance to wash your hands, love?” he asks Sirius, who blinks.

“No. I forgot.”

Despite the heavy atmosphere, James actually feels the beginnings of a smile tempting his lips as he watches Remus forcibly quell his horror. “Right, then. Why don’t we go do that in the kitchen now, and I’ll make us all some tea.”

“Good idea,” James says heartily, swiping his thumb back and forth over his own kiss on your hand. “Hey, could we take out the good cookies as well?”

Remus hums what James chooses to interpret as assent, shepherding Sirius into the kitchen.

“I’m sorry,” you say to James once the other two are out of hearing.

He looks down at you. “What for, sweetheart?”

You shrug, your shoulders remaining just a tad too high after the motion. You’ve stopped crying, and James is grateful, but he doesn’t think this shameful look is a vast improvement. “I feel like I’m being dramatic. And Sirius is the one who had to see it. He had to drive home too, I was too upset.”

James’ battered, broken heart wells for the both of you. He forgoes his attentions to your hand, wrapping his arm around your shoulders instead to tuck you against his side. “You’re not being dramatic,” he promises, “okay? You and Sirius were in the wrong place at the wrong time, and you both had to witness something awful.” Your head sinks onto his shoulder, and he rubs your upper arm. “I think it’s alright to be sad for a while. For yourselves, and for the bunny. Just, don’t torment yourself, alright?” He withdraws enough to see your face, and you tilt your gaze up to his. “Please. You don’t deserve the guilt.”

Your eyes cast down, contemplative and a bit shy, a moment before your head comes back to its spot on his shoulder. “Thanks,” you murmur.

“No thanks necessary, babe. You can cry all night if you need to, I’ll be right here. Just do me a favor,” he lowers his voice, glancing toward the kitchen, “let me sit between you and Sirius if you do. Many more tears and I think he’ll have a heart attack.”

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justporo · 7 months

Text

The Push and the Pull (There is no sweeter innocence than our gentle sin)

I'm so deep in my feelings today, just sitting on the sofa being sick. So this is what you get: an angsty, fluffy, deeply corny fic of Astarion and Tav having a heart to heart. (Fueled by Taylor Swift and underlined by a Hozier lyric in the title, we really out here using all the clichés today)

And I'd really like to dedicate this to all my friendly and lovely and caring mutuals and friends here today - those I talk to almost every day now, those who created lovely art for me and those who are just all around so so lovely to me.

Summary: Since Astarion's confession, Tav and the vampire have spent every single possible moment together, getting closer, but guilt weighs on her and so she speaks her mind - about more than one thing apparently.

Pairing: Astarion/Fem!Tav (You)

Warnings: Talk about sex and past trauma

Wordcount: 2,4k

Song: This is me trying - Taylor Swift

~~~

You laid with Astarion in his tent, all entangled: your arms around his upper body, one leg hooked around his and the other mushed between his as well. And Astarion held you just as desperately. His arms always seemed to drag you in closer as to not allow just the tiniest piece of space between you. His hands were roaming your back, softly caressing it and his face burrowed in your hair, softly nuzzling you with his nose.

Your face was buried in his chest, breathing in his scent: camp fire smoke, forest pine needles and some of the scent he liked to put on with bergamot and brandy.

You wanted to hold him as closely as possible. Wanting to give him as much of this comfort as possible.

Since his confession at Moonrise Towers you had spent every single night together. At first Astarion had seemed a bit surprised when you had come over and told him you wanted to spend the evening and the night with him. Seemingly he hadn’t been able to wrap his head around the fact that you actually wanted to spend time with him – with both your clothes on. Despite you assuring him after his confession that you cared deeply for him and were more than prepared to aid him in figuring out what he needed. And waiting, waiting until he was comfortable again for other stuff – or even finding new ways altogether if that was what was required.

But soon he’d been awaiting you every evening to come over, seeming like a kid that was desperate to be allowed to finally leave the dinner table to go play whenever you and the rest set up camp for the night. And so usually during the evening when the whole party retired you spent your nights with the vampire. Talking, detangling his hair, kissing, him massaging your tensed back, joking around until you both almost cried, worrying about what the next day or battle would bring, reading, playing cards with a deck you had pickpocketed somewhere, just getting to know each other better.

At this point you both really enjoyed that your elven nature allowed you to stay up way longer than most other party members – grateful for the extra time to spend with each other.

But the thing you probably spent most of your time with was: holding each other. Laying like this, feeling each other’s bodies, delighting in the comfort to know the other one was alive and just as eager to be held.

Astarion could seemingly never get enough of having you in his arms. Always pulling you back into his arms in the morning when you tried to crawl out of his tent to start the day. Always groaning and hugging you harder when you started to protest until you gave in – if only for five more minutes. And how could you deny him anyway – this was the bare minimum he deserved after two hundred years of torment and being stripped of the most basic needs.

And also you wanted to imprint the feeling of his arms around you and his body against yours on your mind, wanting to memorise his smell – so to be able to always conjure this sensation and the feelings that came with it: warmth, joy, love.

You hadn’t quite put that last thing in words yet, but you’d known you felt like that for some time now. Your heart swelled achingly whenever you thought about Astarion. Your dearest wish being to keep him safe, help him heal and hold him close for as long as you were able to.

But tonight, you couldn’t shake a feeling of sadness. With all the positive developments in your relationship with the vampire there was this one thing that kept gnawing on your thoughts and lay heavy on your mind. And you felt you had to get it out now.

You pushed up from your cuddling position, Astarion immediately making a displeased noise and face while you leant on your arms to hover above him and look directly into his eyes. And you saw how his facial expression changed from mocking annoyance to worry, his brows drawing together, as he looked at you and obviously saw in your face that something was the matter.

He softly cupped your face with one hand: “What is it, my love? Is something wrong? Have I done something wro-“ “I’m-I’m sorry, Astarion”, you blurted out.

Immediately Astarion’s eyes filled with shock, his lips parted slightly – he obviously immediately thought that he had messed up in some kind of way. So you quickly continued to rip him out of his spiralling negative thoughts.

“I feel like… No… I took advantage of you and for that I feel terrible, Astarion, I’m so sorry. I know this does not changed what happened, but I wanted you to know that. And I hope you can forgive me for that”, you said and sat up, suddenly feeling you needed to be in an upright position to have this conversation.

Astarion sat up as well, leaning back on his hands and looking utterly confused. His eyes weren’t full of fear anymore but now filled with worry: “Love, could you please clarify because it seems I can’t catch up with what you mean.”

“The nights we slept with each other”, you replied immediately, feeling how the words and the feelings in you were desperate to get out. Tears started to well up in your eyes which you angrily started to rub away with your hands. “I treated you just as everyone else did. I don’t want that, I don’t want to use you, you deserve better”, you continued as the tears really started flowing in hot streams over your cheeks.

Astarion sat up further until he was in a cross-legged position and could lean to you to grab your hands that kept wiping away tears you felt you weren’t allowed to shed in this moment.

“Love, you feel like you took advantage of me when I told you I manipulated you into falling for me and now feel bad that you did exactly what I wanted you to do?”, he replied with sorrow on his face and you realised he had heaps of his own guilt.

You didn’t know how to reply so you just kept looking at him. “Tav, I understand what you mean but… How were you even supposed to know at that point?” You started to shrug, trying to say something like you would have had to know better but Astarion shushed you. He moved to cup your cheek.

“My sweet, please, I can’t even say how much I appreciate you saying this but please – leave it in the past, alright? I understand you feel bad for that and so do I for seducing you with ulterior motives in mind.”

You wanted to immediately reassure him that you were over this, but again he made you stay silent with softly lifting his free hand to silence you.

“Let us just agree to leave this behind us, alright? We are here now. Let’s not burden yourself with more than we already have going on, my love. This is a hard lesson I had to learn in life: you can’t undo what has happened, so sometimes it’s better to not let your mind be consumed by it.”

You softly nodded when he looked at you with raised eyebrows awaiting your approval. The tears had slowly subsided, but Astarion’s fingers were still softly brushing over your cheeks.

“And if it’s any reconciliation: it’s been different with you, from the very beginning.” He angled his head and his crimson gaze drifted away softly as he remembered.

“You were so eager to be held, to open your heart and give yourself to me. And more so, so eager to give back”, he whispered and absent-mindedly a warm smile crept onto his face before his brows drew together again. “And now you are with me. Every single free second you have you spend with me although I can’t… It’s…”, his words trailed off, his hand dropped from your face.

Astarion sighed and lifted his face to the ceiling of the tent. “I know you said you were willing to wait and… not have sex with me until I was ready for it. And the next time I want to fall into your arms, I want to be sure it's without fear, without a slither of doubt, with nothing on my mind but having you, but…” His words trailed off again, his gaze dropping to the floor. You cautiously reached for one of his hands, starting to softly knead it with yours.

After a few moments, Astarion sighed and looked directly at you, red eyes piercing: “The truth is… I want you, desperately. I can’t stop thinking about how your naked body felt against mine. Hells, I get aroused basically every time you’re even remotely close to me. I feel like a giddy adolescent around you at the best of times. Sometimes I can't stop thinking about burying my face between your legs, slobbering at you like a godsdamned dog until you forget anything but my name. Or about wanting to immerse myself in you, lose myself under your hands for I know I would not have to fear drowning. But it all feels so rotten. It’s so frustrating.” He withdrew his hand from yours and pressed both of them against his eyes with a sigh of frustration.

You could only sit there and listen to his speech, your cheeks heating slightly at his confession. And you realised that he was walking around with so much worry and pain and desperation.

“Would you rather I keep more of a dista-“ “NO!”, Astarion immediately exclaimed and stared at you. “Unless…”, he continued more calmly and with a tinge of worry in his voice, “I mean unless it makes you uncomfortable that I’m like a needy youth around you.” You immediately shook your head eagerly. Astarion went back to pressing his hands to his eyes.

“Astarion, I’m…” – you wanted to apologise again but Astarion shortly lifted his hands and gave you a stare that dared you to utter the words, so you just sighed and went on – “If I can do anything to help you, please tell me. But other than that: firstly, I want you too – more than is probably healthy, I’m sure you know that. But - look at me” – you grabbed his hands this time, forced him to look at you for the next words – “I love spending time with you like this. These are the best parts of my day. You’re a delight to be around, Astarion, you’re so smart and witty. I could listen to you talk for hours. If we could just stay here, laying in each other’s arms forever, you can bet your sweet ass, I would!”

You had almost shouted the last words, riling yourself up so much with your feelings for the vampire spawn. And you felt your feelings almost boil over in your chest, so you proceeded with the thought racing through your mind before you got too shy and wouldn’t put it out there:

“I love you, Astarion!”

It came out almost a little forceful and you pressed your lips together after the words had left your mouth. But you immediately were sure that it had been the right thing to do.

Astarion’s eyes widened at you, his mouth hanging open. His eyes jumped all over you, from your one eye to the other, to your lips and back again.

The silence drew out and you started to become uneasy, awkwardly starting to shift around in your sitting position as you waited for Astarion to react with something more than surprise.

“Sorry, I shouted”, you said and bit your lip “and you don’t have to say it back.” “Gods, stop apologising already, you idiot”, Astarion immediately replied and swung over to grab your face and kiss you – forcefully and passionately.

After some long moments he broke the kiss shortly: “Also I love you too, Tav.” And then he kissed you again, pulling you over until you sat in his lap. “I love you more than I ever loved anything”, he whispered in between kisses.

Somewhen, you leaned back until you were laying there again just like at the beginning of the night. Still kissing. And you stayed like this for a long time.

Much later you broke away, both your lips swollen from kissing, and just looked into each other’s eyes. You pressed your hand against Astarion’s with spread fingers – observing the differences between your hand and his.

“Astarion?”

“Hm?”, he simply hummed and kept staring at you.

“You said I didn’t have to apologise.”

“Hm.”

“I’ll have you know the same goes for you, okay? Because don’t think I didn’t realise you only spoke about me and left yourself out! I mean, yes, you manipulated you, but you fell for me in the end, you clown, and look where all that got you”, you said and couldn’t help grinning. You closed your fingers around Astarion’s hand.

Astarion grinned back: “Right in the best kind of mess I could have ever imagined. And now you’re stuck with this clown.” He moved his free hand to motion towards himself. “And I would argue a much more attractive clown than the average jester.”

You laughed softly at that and moved in to press another kiss to his lips. Then you buried your face against his chest again while he wrapped his arms around you closer.

“Would you mind saying it again?”, Astarion whispered softly.

For a moment, you were confused but then caught on. You lifted your head again to look directly into his open and shining red eyes: “I love you, Astarion.”

His eyes started to shine even more: “I love you, Tav.”

And you grinned at each other giddily until you had to press your head against his shirt and let out a little squeal of happiness and kick your feet while you heard and felt Astarion’s soft laugh rumbling through his chest.

Then you snuggled up against each other until you both lay comfortably and you both drifted off into your trance – while your hearts had yet moved a bit closer together.

#astarion #astarion x tav #baldurs gate #baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate iii #astarion x reader #astarion x mc #baldurs gate astarion #astarion x oc #astarion x you #fanfic #fanfiction #astarion ancunin #bg3 spoilers #tav #bg3 #one shot

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neverinadream · 7 months

Text

Fill It With Something Pretty

Summary: A pre-wedding dinner just isn't the right place to start jerking your soon to be husband off...or is it?

Pairing: Christian Pulisic x Fem!Reader

Requested: Nope

Song Inspo: Eat Your Young - Hozier

Warnings: 18+, minors dni <- seriously this is at another level than i normally write for christian, dom!christian, sub!reader, public sex, mirror sex, dirty talk, pet names (baby, good girl....), just a little bit of degradation, the reader is called a slut and a brat, ass appreciation, hair pulling, anal play and talks of anal sex, talks of cum, mentions of sex toys, unprotected sex, cum play

Notes: so hi. this has been sitting in my drafts since march and it was originally meant to be something small, like a blurb, and now it's completely something else 🤭 its nice to write again. did we like it? feedback is always appreciated.

"Stop it," Christian whispered over the edge of his glass the second he felt your hand touching his leg. He takes a long sip, licking the wine from his bottom lip, something you watch as you turn to look at him. His dark eyes catch yours and he has to stop the chuckle that bubbles in his throat. "You know what I'm talking about," he reacts to the innocent look in your eyes.

"But I don't know what you're talking about," you reply, your hand still caressing his thigh, "I'm not doing anything." His body tenses, his grip growing rigid around his wine glass, his knuckles white and piercing his skin, as you slip your hand onto the inside of his thigh, pricking him with your nails as you squeeze your hand around him. "I'm doing nothing at all," you add, the corner of your mouth twitching, curling into a half-smile, "I'm just sitting here, with my soon to be husband and the rest of our families, enjoying a pre-wedding dinner." You tilt your head to the side, "now tell me, what could I possibly be doing wrong?"

He sets the glass down, his hand disappearing below the table cloth and underneath the table. "You know exactly what you're doing," he whispers, flicking his eyes down and back up the table.

Your families seemed to be oblivious to his change in demeanour, talking amongst themselves, discussing the plans they had for after the wedding. Some were planning to stay in Monaco for a few more days, others unfortunately had to fly back home and resume their day to day lives. But not you.

You two had ten days planned, splitting your days between various European cities and spending your nights with your bodies entangled together, experiencing multiple moments of euphoria.

"I think you should behave yourself," he suggests, taking your hand away. He interlocks your fingers, caging them together to stop you from taking it any further.

"I am behaving myself," you bite back, brushing your lips lightly against his cheek, the unshaven stubble tickling your chin. You didn't like knowing he would be tempted to shave for the wedding. He gives your hand a light squeeze and strokes the back of your hand with his thumb. "But, I was born with two hands, baby," you whisper into his ear, slipping your empty hand over his crotch, his cock pulsating under your touch and bulging in his pants, "and I bet my life you'd love for me to do something about this."

His thighs tense and he tries not to be noticeable as he shifts in his seat. Of course, he'd liked to have your hand wrapped around his cock, stroking him until the crown was weeping with cum, but there was a time and place for that, and that certainly wasn't with your parents sitting on the opposite end of the table. A kiss to his jaw brings him back from his thoughts.

"Tell me you want this," you purr in his ear, unpopping the button, before finding the zipper and tugging it down. There's just enough room for you to manoeuvre your hand inside, a soft gasp hitting his ear as you grab him through his briefs. He coughs to hide a groan, loving and hating the grin pressed against his skin as you kissed his neck. "Tell me you want me to jerk you off under this table."

His cheeks are dusted a light shade of pink. "Behave yourself."

"Or what?"

He removes your hand and leans in closer, his breath, a mix of fresh mint and sweet wine, warm as it hits your ear. "Or I'm dragging you into the nearest restroom," he warns, his voice low and raspy, "and everyone here will know how much of a needy, little slut you are, because we both know you won't be able to keep quiet as I fuck that dirty cunt."

Pleasure tingles down your spine, leaving a dull ache between your legs. His filthy words had left you with an ache only he had the remedy for. "Then do it," you push back, praying you were pushing all the right buttons to gain the reaction you wanted. Excitement builds as he detaches your caged hand but deflates as he reaches for his glass, lifting it to his mouth, acting like he hadn't just proposed the best deal to you.

Your chair drags loudly against the grey, cobbled slabs, the sound disrupting a few nearby conversations; they resumed once they saw you rising to your feet. Christian catches your wrist before you can step away, bringing your hand to his mouth, landing a soft kiss on your engagement ring. "Where are you going?" He quizzes, tilting his head back up at you.

"To the restroom," you reply, dipping to kiss his cheek. It looked like nothing more than a sweet, tender moment being shared between the happily married couple to be to those sitting around you, but it was the perfect disguise for you to whisper, "so you can pound this dirty cunt and treat me like the needy little slut I am," into his ear.

Ten minutes hadn't even passed before Christian had you bent over the restroom sink, your dress pulled up around your waist. You were trapped, with nowhere to move. If you moved forward, the edge of the sink would dig deeper into your ribs, and you could only feel Christian pressing hard into you if you tried to move back.

His hand runs up the back of your leg and over the globe of your ass, his thumb toying with your panties at the top. "It's a shame I can't enjoy this properly," he grunts, the silence filled with the sound of his pants being unzipped. He pushes your dampened panties to the side and notches his cock in line, pushing inside you with a single stroke. "Do you know how fucking tight you feel? Doesn't even want to let me go," he gasps, withdrawing his cock, feeling you clench around him.

You lift your head to look at yourself in the mirror, sinking your teeth into your lower lip at the sight of him standing firmly behind you. He flashes his eyes upwards to the mirror for just a second, giving you a wink that floods your body with more arousal, before looking back down to watch himself. Your focus shifts to the change in your expression, drinking in your loud, desperate moan as he slams his hips, thrusting from the tip all the way down to the base.

"Just had to start something, didn't you?" He does it again on a grunt. Your head drops and you reach for anything to hold onto, hands landing on the edge of the sink, moaning louder as he does it again. "Couldn't just wait another hour?" He fills the restroom with your moans, possessing no care for the others in the restaurant who might hear them. "Needed me that desperately, huh?"

You whimper, lacking any function of speech.

Sinking your hand between your thighs, you pay your clit the attention it was desperate for. "That's my girl," he groans appreciatively, increasing his pace and biting his bottom lip to catch his own moan as you clench around him. His hand moulds to the globe of your ass, squeezing the cheek. "Fucking perfect," he grins as you gasp, "would've painted it all nice and pretty too, if had just been a good girl for me."

"I am a good girl," you protest, grinding your hips to meet every one of his thrusts, chasing your high.

He stops moving, nestling his cock deep inside, and fists a handful of your hair, pulling you up to look at your joint reflection. "That's not what I see." He gets lower to meet his mouth against your ear. "I see a brat," he bites, breathing in the sweet mixture of honey and vanilla, the scent of your arousal consuming him to a state on insanity, "don't you? Look closer-" He pushes you further against the sink, trying to get you closer to the mirror. "-she's right there, just doing anything to get a reaction out of me."

"And I did, didn't I?" You grin, wide and wickedly. "You just couldn't help yourself, could you? Just had to follow me in here and teach your naughty girl a lesson."

"The only lesson you need to learn is how to stop my cum from dripping down your thighs after we both walk out of here."

He keeps your head held firmly in place, pulling harder if you try to look away, ignoring if you plead with him to loosen his grip. He ruts into you. Deeper. Harder. Filling the restroom with the sound of your desperate moans for him not to stop over the echo of skin slapping against skin, all whilst making you watch yourself come apart on his cock.

"Been thinking about our wedding night." He slams into you, over and over again, his body flooding with arousal as he thinks about the shameless debauchery he intends to act out. "Thinking about all the way I'm gonna take you," he grunts, grabbing the base of his cock as he withdraws himself from the grip of your cunt. He slides the tip between your lips, teasingly pushing against your entrance. "In your pretty mouth. In this perfect pussy," he releases his cock and slides back into you, "perhaps, if I'm lucky, this tight, little ass."

Your eyes widen. "Christian?"

"What do you say, baby?" He lìcks the pad of his thumb, pressing it against the tight hole, massaging as he continues the rhythm of his hips. He watches with fascination, his cock pulsating at the sight of his thumb burying into your ass, pushing into you at the sound of your gasp. "Gonna let your husband fill every hole? Claim them as rightfully mine?"

He loosens the tight ring of muscles, relaxing you into the new sensation, relishing the soft whimper that comes with it. You were shaking, knees trembling you could barely stand up, and perspiration had set on your brows as you got lost in this new dimension, feeling pleasure twined with a bit of discomfort, but one you endured because of the euphoric haze that consumed every part of you. You push back and circle your clit faster. This was how you were going to come for him; with his cock stuffing your cunt and his thumb pressed into your ass.

"Gripping my cock so tightly," he groans, letting his mouth hang open, "and making such a mess on your thighs - dripping everywhere, princess."

"Christian...nice...fuck..." You were incapable of stringing a sentence together, jealous that Christian could probably recite everything he knew about chess as he fucked you mercilessly. You could hear the smirk in his huffed laugh, only looking up to confirm it in the mirror's reflection. "There," you squeak, hair ripping from his hand as you force your head down, eyes squeezing shut and screaming, "'m coming!"

He fucks you through your orgasm, the high of the euphoric bliss blurring your vision with a burst of white spots. "Take what you need, baby," he coos softly, smoothing his hand down your back, "done such a good job for me, doing something you've never done before." He retrieves his thumb out of your ass, liking how you whimpered at the loss. "I'm proud of you," he grips your hips, holding you down on his pulsing cock as he thrusts up, spilling deep inside, "always- always so good for me."

You shiver, his breath blowing against your neck as he leans over, his body and warmth pressing into you. A satisfied sigh finds a place on your lips as he kisses your shoulder and neck.

"We are doing that again," you finally say, coming out of your euphoric fog.

"Which part?" Christian laughs, holding your hips as he slides himself free from your cunt's grip. His cock stirs at the sight of his cum leaking from your entrance. "The part where we let an entire restaurant know that I'm fucking you?" He tucks himself back into his briefs and fixes his pants. "Or the part where you let me finger your ass?"

That wide and wicked smile was back on your lips. "Both."

He hums, liking the sound of both. His finger traces over the curve of your ass. "Maybe get something pretty to put in there?" He suggests, licking his lips.

"And here's me thinking your cock would be the pretty thing to put in there," you giggle, now turning to look over your shoulder.

A blush sets on his cheeks, reaching his ears. "Okay, something just as pretty as my cock."

Your eyebrows prick up. "Well, aren't you going to get me some tissue?" You were becoming more aware of the cum dripping from you, the reality of it being one that wasn't extremely sexy.

Christian drops his eyes, his fingers tracing the inside of your thigh, gathering the milky liquid and pushing it up to your pussy. "I meant what I said," he thrusts two fingers into you, his thumb purposely teasing your clit, fucking the cum back in, "you're going to learn how to walk out of here without my cum dripping down your thighs."

You grasp the sink, "Christian!" You were sensitive and wanting more, but shudder as he withdraws his fingers, watching in agony as he sucks them clean.

"Come on," he gives you a soft tap on the ass, "we still have dessert to order."

———————

Taglist: @shanoontje @maseandkepa @theblxefox @blueathens @ofxinnocence @mrschilly @geek-and-proud @in-my-body-bag @laurasstufff1 @mountchilly @spicysainz @thoseboysinblue @kickinganddriving @lizzypotter14 @bracedes @chilwellspulisic @notsoattractivearenti @swimmingismywholelife @lovelynikol16 @masonsrem @landoslover @kathb59 @emcv1427 @gagaslonina @afterpills @pulisicsgirl

#christian pulisic #christian pulisic imagine #christian pulisic smut #christian pulisic fluff #christian pulisic blurb #christian pulisic one shot #christian pulisic x reader #christian pulisic x you

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celiastjamesoscar · 8 months

Text

Comfort Holds

Pairings: Sam Carpenter x fem!reader

Summary: A long day at work leads the best kind of de-stressing at home: Sam holding you.

Warnings: light cussing, mentions of overdoses, extremely soft Sam, Sam and R showering together, not proofread

AN: a real quick one in celebration of me passing my logic exam! I promise I will crank out some longer ones soon!! I also hate how I couldn’t find a good Hozier/Taylor/Lana song to fit this and it’s going to drive me nuts :(

My Masterlist

Word Count: 1.7K

With a soft sigh, you clocked out of work. Today was rough; it seemed like dispatch could not leave you alone, and the calls were the worst. Just today alone, you had four overdoses, which was a new record. On top of that, you also helped deliver a baby, which was a first. You didn’t hate your job, but sometimes you wished for a simple desk job. Something that wasn’t constantly putting stress on your body.

You locked the ambulance before leaving the station and getting into your car. Being an EMT was fun, and you enjoyed it, but just like any job, it had its ups and downs. As you put your key into the ignition, your phone dinged with a message, and your heart fluttered when you read the name.

Sammy Bear 🔪🖤: When will you be home? I miss you.

-Sam

You rolled your eyes with a small smile as you read the text. No matter how often you told her not to, Sam continued to sign her texts. At this point, you were convinced she was doing it to irritate you.

Y/N ❤️: Babe, I have you saved in my contacts. You don’t have to sign your name

You watched as the bubbles appeared and disappeared for several minutes, and you were starting to get worried you had upset Sam when she sent you a picture. The breath in your throat got caught, and your mouth started to water as you admired the jaw-dropping picture your girlfriend had just sent you.

It was a picture of her lying down in bed on her stomach. The angle at which it was taken had a perfect view of her cleavage, especially with the necklace that had your first name initial resting between her breasts.

The picture was effortless but still breathtaking, and you couldn’t believe how you managed to pull that gorgeous woman.

Sammy Bear 🔪🖤: Just answer the damn question.

-Sam

Y/N ❤️: …Not even 5 minutes

As soon as you sent the text, you drove your car and quickly hurried home to Sam. You two have been dating for almost six months, the best six months of your life. It took you several months to break down Sam’s mile-high walls, but after enough late-night conversations and you taking care of Tara while she was at work, Sam slowly allowed herself to be vulnerable with you. Sam didn’t trust easily; hell, sometimes she didn’t even trust herself, but when she was with you, she knew that she could trust you with her heart and her world: Tara.

Once you had won the approval of Tara (a trial that consisted of her forcing you to watch all of her favorite movies and shows), Sam finally opened up her heart to you, and within a week, you two were officially dating.

Within record time, you parked your car outside the Carpenter apartment and hastily approached Sam. When you reached the door to her apartment, you knocked three times and patiently waited for Sam to open up.

“Took you long enough,” the woman in question stated while opening the door. Like in the picture, she only wore a sports bra and leggings, and your mouth began to water as you admired her abs.

“I tried my best to get here quickly,” you retorted while entering your shared apartment. Technically and legally, it was Sam’s apartment, but you were over so much that you two started calling it your ‘shared’ apartment, and you couldn’t be happier.

Once Sam shut the door, you moved to hug her, but she quickly stepped back from you. “Y/N, I love you, but you smell,” Sam defended as she walked into her room, “go take a shower and change, then we can cuddle.”

You grumbled as you followed her and went to your shared dresser. The top two rows were for Sam, and the bottom two were for you, not that the factor in determining who was on top pertained to your sex life at all. No way.

Rummaging through the dresser, you pulled out a pair of shorts along with a baggy t-shirt and a pair of underwear and then carried them into Sam’s bathroom. You turned on the shower and stripped out of your dirty clothes, and deciding to see if Sam was lying, you smelt your shirt. You hated agreeing with your girlfriend, but it didn't smell good.

You threw your dirty clothes into the hamper before stepping into the shower. You were in the middle of washing your face when you heard the bathroom door open. “Hello?” You called up, and when your lips moved, you got soap in your mouth.

As your luck would have it, you were frantically trying to get the awful soap taste out of your mouth when Sam violently pulled back the shower curtain.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Sam!” You exclaimed as you touched your heart, “You almost gave me a heart attack.”

Sam gave you a small laugh and racked her eyes over your body. “You look pretty,” she stated when her eyes reached your face, silently laughing at your startled face covered in soap.

“Thank you,” you replied before sticking your face under the water and washing off the soap. By the time it took you to get the soap off, Sam had undressed and stepped into the shower behind you. Her firm, muscular arms embracing you from behind.

“I miss you, baby,” Sam mumbled against your neck as she hugged your back, kissing your neck. “I missed you too,” you replied, leaning against Sam’s hold and relaxing.

Sam hummed against your neck as she held you tighter. You were her home, and she only ever felt entirely safe in your presence. In time, she planned to make a wife out of you, but only if you wanted her. Sam would move Heaven and Hell for you; she would fist-fight God himself for you, but she would never do something you weren’t okay with. So, if you were crazy enough to grant her your hand in marriage, Sam’s life would be complete.

“How was work?” Sam asked as she let go of her hold on you, grabbed a shampoo bottle, and put some on her hand. “It was rough, to say the least,” you replied with a weak smile, even though Sam couldn’t see it.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Sam asked as she set down the bottle and rubbed the soap together in her hands. “Not really,” you replied while Sam massaged your scalp and applied the soap to your hair. You knew about Sam’s past drug addiction, so you didn’t want to tell her about all the overdoses you encountered today. “But,” you cheerfully stated, “I did help deliver a baby!”

“Oh yeah? Who would trust you with their baby?” Sam teased while she ran her fingers through your hair. You huffed at her words, “A woman who is shooting a child out of her vagina at rocket speed, that’s who.”

Sam laughed at your response and turned you to face her, “You’re a smart-ass, you know that?”

“I know, but I’m your smart-ass,” you said with a smile as Sam gently pushed you backward into the running water of the shower. “Yes, you are,” Sam replied as she began washing the shampoo out of your hair.

It wasn’t rare for Sam to wash your body, as it was her own way of worshiping you. She loved touching your body in more intimate ways than sex, and she also loved that you trusted her enough to allow her to connect with you in such ways. The respect you both had for each other was undeniable, and your love was sacred; no one could ever shake it or ruin it.

For the remainder of the shower, you and Sam took turns washing each other’s body. And when it was time to get out, you both dressed in clean clothes and brushed your teeth. It wasn’t much, but you would kill for these domestic moments with Sam.

“Come here,” Sam said as she climbed into her bed and opened her arms to you. You smiled at her as you turned off the bathroom and bedroom lights and got into bed next to her.

Within a second, Sam had her arms wrapped around your waist and was pulling you into her chest. You placed your head on her chest as one of her hands left your waist and gently rubbed your back.

“Sam? Can I ask you a question?” You asked after Sam had turned on the lamp next to her bed. “Of course, my love,” she responded as her fingers lightly danced across your back, even though you felt her tense up.

“Can you please try not to snore tonight?” You pleaded with beady eyes as you looked up at her, and you could see her visibly relax. “Y/N, I don’t know how many times I have to tell you this, but I do not snore,” Sam declared with a hurtful look in her eyes.

“Oh come on, you big baby,” you jolly teased as you propped yourself up on the bed with your elbow and looked at Sam’s big, brown eyes, “You snore, and you know it.”

“Nuh-uh.”

“Yes, you do! I even recorded you, Sam!”

“That’s a fake video,” she defended, “Why do you hate me?”

Now, this question was her favorite card to play. No matter what you two argued about, this one never failed her. When Sam played this card mixed in with her puppy dog eyes, she knew you were a goner.

“Sam,” you whispered as a hurt look quickly replaced your teasing, “You know I love you.”

“Then why do you insist I snore when I do not?” Sam questioned as you unpropped your elbow and laid back on her chest, listening to her comforting heartbeat.

“Because I love teasing you, Sam. And because your snoring is awful, you should seriously get it checked out,” you responded sarcastically. “Haha, you’re so funny,” Sam dryly replied but hugged you tighter, telling you she was joking.

The two of you talked about your day for several more minutes before you yawned, and Sam reached over to turn off the bedside lamp. You were still lying on her chest as sleep slowly took over your body whenever you heard the faintest whisper, “Delete that video of me snoring.”

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

Taglist: @elduster @silentwolfsstuff

I stole the text messaging part from the great @maskthedwarf <3

#sam carpenter #scream #sam carpenter x reader #melissa barrera #sam carpenter x female reader #sam carpenter x you #sam carpenter x y/n #sam carpenter x fem reader

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lonely-cowboy · 1 month

Text

in memoriam ↠ coriolanus snow masterlist. main masterlist.

pairing: coriolanus snow x f!reader (brief coriolanus snow x lucy gray baird) summary: after being caught cheating in the hunger games, coryo comes to you for comfort. it's only then that you realize he may not be the best person for you. word count: 2.3k warnings: kinda manipulative and bitchy coryo :/ we are NOT hating on lucy gray here it's not her fault it's his

author's note: can y'all tell i've been listening to good luck babe! by chappell roan on repeat? anyway! i wanted to do this with lucy gray but decided she was too sweet (HAHA hozier reference) to do this to reader so now we get mean coryo rip

You were the first person Coriolanus had run to once his cheating in the 10th Hunger Games had been discovered. Dean Highbottom had confronted him with a choice: serve twenty years as a Peacekeeper or have this scandal revealed to the public. He chose the former, of course; to have such disreputable knowledge revealed to the public would only tarnish his efforts at presidency. So a Peacekeeper it was.

Distraught over being caught, Coriolanus sought immediate comfort: you. He didn’t run to you because your love was the only thing that could put him at ease. Of course not, he didn’t love you the same way you did him. Though that wasn’t to say he didn’t care for you. In his own twisted and possessive way, Coriolanus cared for you more than he could any other human being. But the reality– one that you refused to believe– stood that Coriolanus did not see a future with you. You were merely someone who gave him the attention he relished. You were a reminder that he could be adored by the people, a reminder that he deserved everything good in the world. A reminder that Snow lands on top.

And so it was you he sought comfort from, knowing you would not shame him and instead find some overly optimistic, symbolic meaning behind it all. It would help him understand the hardships of presidency, you would say. You would remind him that “President Snow” was not just a childish dream but a truth that could be seen in the near future.

Alone in your family’s penthouse, you were startled by the sound of an authoritative knock. When you opened the door, there stood Coriolanus with his intense gaze already locked on your own. To anyone else, Coriolanus might have looked like his usual self. His shoulders were back, adding height to his already towering frame. His chin was raised in a way that, even to someone taller than he, it seemed as if he was looking down at you.

But you knew better. You could see the way he slouched just the tiniest bit, the way his seemingly relaxed fingers were tense with the desire to curl into fists. And that look in his icy stare… like he loved nothing in this awful world that had betrayed him so cruelly.

“Coryo, why–?”

“They’re sending me to the districts,” Coryo interrupted, slipping passed you and into your penthouse.

“Who?” you questioned with a furrowed brow.

You ignored the irritation that bubbled deep in your chest at Coryo’s pompous behavior. Since the Reaping, it had been something you felt a lot around him, though you remained in denial. Surely you could never be annoyed with Coryo, that boy you loved so deeply you would continue to be by his side, even when he didn’t want you.

“Highbottom, Gaul, all of them,” he growled as he clenched and unclenched his fists.

Seeing Coryo in such disarray, you were quick to turn to your nurturing nature. With a hand resting lightly on his shoulder, you guided Coryo to sit beside you on the couch. You kept your hand on his shoulder, the other on his knee to rub soothing circles.

“Why?” you asked with obvious confusion, finding it weird that a victor should be celebrated by going to the districts.

“Highbottom…,” Coryo paused as he gathered the right words, lip pursed slightly in that calculative manner of his. “Didn’t appreciate my methods to win. He’s sending me away to serve twenty years as a Peacekeeper.”

You didn’t question what Coryo meant by his “methods.” You couldn’t comprehend his elusive answers, and you didn’t much care. Not when he was leaving the Capitol for twenty years.

“Twenty years, Coryo…” you murmured in disbelief, eyes glazing over as you processed what this could mean for you and him. “When do you leave?”

“Tomorrow,” Coryo whispered, his jaw clenched so tightly you feared it might snap off. “Twenty years away from home… away from you…”

Your eyes focused on Coryo again, a small smile gracing your lips. To hear he was saddened over leaving you… there was something achingly heartwarming in that. You only hoped it meant he would think of you while he was away, every day.

“I’ll be here when you return,” you promised.

Coryo glanced at you then, his smile matching yours. There was a wicked glint in his eyes, feeling satisfied that, no matter what, you would always belong to him. He could marry another, but you would still be his. Maybe even you would marry another, but you would still be his. Though Coryo’s possessiveness would never allow you to marry another. You would always be his. Funny, that is: you were his, yet you could never have him.

Coryo turned to face you fully, his hand covering yours as it sat on his knee. His other hand slowly snaked its way up your arm to cradle your face. His face was so close, you could feel his warm breath on your lips.

“You’ll wait for me?” he asked.

“Of course,” you answered breathlessly.

A sly smirk crossed Coryo’s lips as he inched forward. His lips brushed against your own, but you dared not move.

“Good girl,” he murmured.

Coryo breached the distance between you, his lips finding yours in a soft kiss. His kiss was uncharacteristically sweet, mouth moving slowly and lovingly against yours. But his hold on your face was tight, keeping you pressed close to him. You were his and his alone.

When Coryo pulled back, he kept his forehead resting against yours. His grip remained firm; always such a powerful hold.

“I’ll miss you,” Coryo continued in that sweet voice, one he used so rarely. “I don’t know what I’ll do without you… Write to me, won’t you?”

“Of course, Coryo,” you mumbled with a nod. “I’d write to you every day if you asked me to.”

A breath of a laugh escaped Coryo’s lips. “Then write to me every day.”

You nodded again as a comfortable silence settled over the two of you, both smiling with warmth as you held each other tightly. It was a distraction to you both. Held in each other’s arms, you didn’t have to think of the next twenty long years that awaited.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do in District 12, but I’ll–”

“District 12?” you interrupted, pulling back so suddenly that it surprised Coriolanus, leaving him with a creased brow. “How do you already know your assignment? Peacekeepers aren’t given their assignments until the day of their deployment.”

Coriolanus paused for no more than a second, but it was enough. He was never one to pause. The few times he had given pause had always been in times where he was caught in a lie.

“Highbottom told me–”

“No, he didn’t,” you dismissed, shaking your head slowly as you studied Coriolanus suspiciously. “You don’t know your assignment. Why did you say District 12?”

Your heart was pounding furiously in your chest, not out of fear for his answer, but because you already knew it.

No matter how greatly Dean Highbottom hated Coriolanus, he had no control over his assignment. And no one in their right mind– unless they were interested in a public shaming– would choose to send someone as high-standing and self-righteous as Coriolanus to District 12, especially not after he was so widely celebrated as Victor of the Games. There was only one way Coriolanus could find himself in District 12: he chose to go.

At least, that was his plan. Tomorrow, you surmised, he would head to the train station where he would be assigned his district of deployment. It was unlikely he would get District 12, but if he asked oh-so-sweetly, he was sure to get what he wanted. Because Coriolanus Snow always got what he wanted. And what he wanted was Lucy Gray.

He was going to follow Lucy Gray to District 12.

You pulled further away from Coriolanus as the realization set in. There it was again, that bubbling anger in the pit of your stomach.

Coriolanus didn’t care about you, nor did he care about Lucy Gray. He deluded himself into thinking he cared, but you knew it wasn’t true. If he really cared, he wouldn’t be following Lucy Gray all the way across Panem. If he really cared, he wouldn’t be pursuing the both of you.

You looked at Coriolanus with horror as you were consumed by anger and disappointment, at both him and yourself.

Coriolanus read the look on your face with ease. It was obvious you knew his plan now, there was no point in hiding it. He released a steady sigh, jaw twitching with frustration that he had been confronted with his failures twice in one day.

“Is this all some kind of game to you, Coriolanus?” you asked. Your voice was quiet and without malice, your disappointment outweighing any fury you felt. “What am I to you? Your pet?”

“Darling, you know I don’t think of you like that,” Coriolanus said firmly, reaching for your hand.

You yanked your hand back quickly as the anger began to boil over, standing quickly to put distance between the two of you. Coriolanus groaned in annoyance as he too stood, slowly and without much interest.

“Then how do you think of me?” you demanded. “Because you refuse to call me your girlfriend, but then you kiss me like… like that and expect me to think of this as only casual?”

Coriolanus grumbled your name, his patience obviously wearing thin. “I care about you, I always have. This is more than casual to me.”

“No, it’s not! You’re leaving me and following Lucy Gray to 12!”

Coriolanus stiffened at the sound of Lucy Gray’s name, his shoulders squaring and spine straightening. His lips were pressed thin, looking down his nose at you. That ever-present air of superiority.

“Go to Lucy Gray, Coriolanus,” you growled. “I pray to any god who will listen that she escapes you as I have. And if she is unlucky not to, I pray that my memory will haunt you instead. Every time you kiss her, think of my lips. Every time you hold her, think of my warmth. Every night, you’ll wake up with her beside you, but it won’t be her you think of. It’ll be me.”

Coriolanus said nothing as he watched you with those bright blue eyes. You met his stare with a hard gaze, allowing that boiling frustration to take over. Maybe you would regret your outburst the second he walked out the door, maybe you wouldn’t. Right now, you were too angry to worried about that.

“Alright then,” Coriolanus sighed nonchalantly, dusting off his coat. “I’ll take my leave. I hope to see you again, but it appears as though I won’t. I can only wish you the best.”

Coriolanus turned and strode toward the door, his presence drastically different from when he first came knocking on your door.

“I can only wish that you rot in hell for all you put me through,” you answered smugly. “Thank God for Lucy Gray. If it wasn’t for her, I’d be stuck with your manipulative ass forever.”

Pausing in the doorway, Coriolanus glanced at you over his shoulder. He looked troubled as though he had never expected such a response from you. Now was usually the time you would come running back into his arms, sobbing over how you could never live without him. But not this time.

“Goodbye, my dear.”

You said nothing.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

It was a hot summer evening, the kind of heat that made you inexplicably lethargic and sleepy. The Covey had journeyed to the lake for an afternoon swim, picking berries and eating them with their toes dipped in the cool water. The day was long, but fun was limited. There were still chores to be done in town.

When the Covey began their trek home, Lucy Gray was napping soundly in Coriolanus’s arms, her pink patterned dress sprawled across the thin blanket. Not wanting to disturb her from her sleep, Coriolanus urged the Covey to continue home without them, they would catch up in time.

But as the August heat eased any of Coriolanus’s worries, he too was overtaken by sleep. Together, he laid with Lucy Gray with nothing but the crickets and mockingjays for company. It was a peaceful evening.

With a sleepy hum, Coriolanus turned so that he fully enveloped your frame. He buried his nose in your soft hair, inhaling your scent slowly. Another hum left his lips as he squeezed you tighter against his body, your warm skin sending an affectionate tingle down his spine.

He murmured your name in his languid state, the sound so sweet on his lips that it was clear he was nothing more than a boy in love.

Coriolanus’s eyes snapped open as his mind awakened, finding himself wrapped around Lucy Gray’s slender frame. He inhaled with a start as he quickly pried himself from Lucy Gray who made a drowsy sound of protest. She turned and reached for him in her sleep, though she did not wake. Coriolanus pulled himself further from her grasp, his jaw tensing.

The image of you still danced across his vision. He rubbed his eyes furiously in an attempt to make you leave, but you would not. You filled his every thought, his every breath. He could not escape you no matter how hard he tried. Coriolanus’s head fell into his hands as he let out a silent, strangled cry.

Oh, how he missed you. That girl with lips so sweet and skin so soft. That girl with the laugh of an angel and a touch so warm it eased all tension. That girl who he loved so dearly and had let escape from his grasp. That girl who would never again be his.

Forever, he was yours, yet he could never have you.

#the ballad of songbirds and snakes #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus snow

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