#hozier x y/n

[padfootagain]

Only An Almost (VI)

Chapter 6: Hiding

Hello!! Here is a new chapter!

I hope you’ll like this chapter! Please, tell me what you think!

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Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader, friends with benefits AU

Warning: No explicit smut or nsfw content, but there are sexual themes and heavy make-out sessions (it’s a friends with benefits AU, I can’t really escape it), so 18+ only!

Summary: Andrew has been in love with you for years, and yet he has never confessed his feelings. But a night out celebrating the engagement of his best friend changes everything. However, you don't seem ready to be with him just yet. You make him an offer that he can't refuse... but will certainly regret.

Word Count : 2387

Masterlist for the series – Hozier’s Masterlist – Main Masterlist

Andrew needed to talk to you.

After his conversation with Sam, there was no doubt left in his mind that he needed to tell you how he truly felt. This… situation, this… arrangement… it couldn’t go on. It was hurting him too much. Having you for a moment, and then being back to square one, holding himself back all the time, and this fool’s hope that you could feel the same if he waited…

He couldn’t keep on doing this. Another week and two nights with you had passed, and Andrew was now resolute. As he was knocking on your front door and then digging his hands in his pockets, he kept on repeating the words he had prepared beforehand. It was so much easier to write things down, he had sketched his speech this morning.

I know you don’t want a relationship at the moment, I understand that.

He knocked a second time as you weren’t opening the door.

But I’m not sure this… arrangement of ours is a good idea. I see you as more than just a friend. Way more than that. And I don’t think that I can keep on being casual with you.

At long last, the keys turned in the lock, and he stood a little straighter, taking a deep breath.

I get it that this is not the right time for you, and that’s alright. I’ll wait. I’ll wait all the time you need to have a proper date and a proper relationship with you. I’ll wait for you.

You opened the door.

I’ll wait for you, Y/N, if you want to give me a chance…

“Andy? Were we… had we something planned for today?”

“Hi! Erm… not exactly, but like… I haven’t seen you in a few days, I was getting worried you might have been eaten by some roaming spirit or the monster under your bed or something…”

He mentally slapped himself for such a weird and stupid joke.

You granted him an amused smile nonetheless, he was even ready to believe that you were struggling not to laugh.

“I’m alright, I’m just super busy with work.”

“You look tired.”

You looked exhausted, actually, with bags under your eyes, dishevelled hair…

“Thanks, I guess…”

He rolled his eyes.

“It’s not what I meant. You are always stunning. But you do look like you haven’t had a proper rest in a few days.”

“I have so many things to do…”

You heaved a sigh, and it was easy to see that you were buzzing with anxiety.

“Can I come in?” Andrew finally asked, but he was surprised when you hesitated.

“I have some work to do…”

“It’s Sunday afternoon, you’re not supposed to be working on Sunday.”

“Andy…”

“Do I really need to beg?”

He gave you a crooked smile, the ones he thought were almost cocky but behind which he badly hid that he was worried. You heaved a sigh and let him in.

“Tea?” you asked, although you were already grabbing the kettle by the time Andrew had rid himself of his coat.

“Thanks,” he smiled as he sat down by your table.

He waited until you were sitting with him before speaking again. He reckoned that you needed to be eased into the conversation he was aiming for, so he started with niceties.

“What has you so busy then?”

“Work. Important projects.”

“What kind?”

“Look, Andy… I appreciate the thought, but I don’t have time for this…”

“You can’t keep on working without taking a break… it’s Sunday.”

“Like you’re never working on Sundays.”

“I’m a musician, not an office employee. If I want to, I can decide not to work for an entire month, and no one is going to say a thing about it.”

“Touché…”

“Seriously, though… I’m just worried. Why don’t you take a small break with me, huh?”

“Andy, if you came to get laid, I’m not in the mood…”

“I didn’t…”

He frowned as he stared at you, offended by the thought. Your expression softened.

“Sorry. I’m a little on edge.”

“I haven’t heard from you in several days, I was just stopping by to check up on you.”

“I know… I’m sorry, that’s very nice of you, actually. I’m just so…”

“Stressed? Tired? On the verge of a nervous breakdown?”

“All of the above…”

Andrew drank a gulp of tea or two, before standing up in a jolt.

“Come on, go get changed.”

“What?”

“You need some fresh air. Some fresh air, and a nice walk. Come on. Get properly dressed, we’re leaving.”

“Andy…”

“You look like a zombie, you need a break.”

“I thought I was still stunning.”

“You are. Don’t ask me how you do it. Come on!”

You smiled, and seemed to hesitate one last time before getting up as well. You went to your tiptoes to kiss his cheek, and he bent to meet you halfway.

“Thank you, Andy. Where are we going?”

“I’ll find a nice spot, I promise.”

How could Andrew bring up this conversation?

He kept his words light and playful during the short drive to the spot he knew you would like. Some quiet path winding through the Wicklow hills, one that you knew already, but didn’t go there often. It was an easy, peaceful walk. Perfect to focus on nature, and get out of your head. It would do you good.

You were finally starting to relax, and Andrew didn’t dare to bring up the subject he so desperately needed to discuss. Partly because he didn’t want to stress you out again, partly because he was too afraid.

You joked around and spoke of unimportant but lovely things while you walked, his fingers brushing yours every once in a while, blaming the uneven terrain for the ghostly touch. But he didn’t reach out, didn’t hold onto you. He didn’t dare to.

You had brought some snacks with you, prepared while Andrew was pestering you to hurry. He decided that he would talk to you while you took a break to eat them. Yes, that sounded good…

“How often do you come here?” you asked him after a short silence.

“To this spot you mean? I don’t know… Haven’t come in a few weeks, that’s for sure.”

You giggled, and he slowed down to walk next to you again.

“You and your long legs. Wait for us mortals, would you?”

“Only if you’re nice to me.”

“I’ll give you a snack.”

“Hmm… that could work.”

“Or actually, never mind that. Go ahead and play the lure. So the beasts will attack you and spare me.”

“The beasts? What beasts? The squirrels? A bird?”

“There are badgers everywhere around here.”

“True, but I’m too skinny for their taste, I’m sure.”

“A bite-size ankle.”

“Nothing but bone, I’m afraid. Not enough sustenance. They’ll have to get to you, eventually.”

“Naughty.”

You walked further along the quiet path, laughing and joking and talking nonsense. And this was nice, unbelievably nice. There was just something about you that made Andrew’s shoulders lighter, his world brighter.

Love. It’s love.

You took a turn, came to particularly nice spot, breaking free from the trees of the forest trail. There was a clear view of the hills from there, and the valleys below.

“This is so nice. You were right, I was cooked up at home, and then at the office… I needed this. I needed some time outside, to clear my head.”

The Wicklow hills rolled before you, in various shades of green, the bluish grey of a stream running between them. You sat down together on an old stone wall, and you shared your snack with him: some slices of apple and a few biscuits.

“It’s so nice out here. We had not done that in a while, had we?” you went on, before taking a bite at the piece of apple in your hand.

The fruits were sweet and sticky with juice and sugar. The flesh had turned a little brown, oxidized by the air. Andrew hummed in agreement as he took another piece.

“Yeah, a few months, I’d say.”

“Longer than that. I don’t think we’ve done this since you’ve been back.”

“Maybe you’re right.”

He saw your gaze softening with sadness, something close to melancholy.

“How do you do it?”

Andrew frowned in response, silently asking what you meant. You looked at the landscape again as you answered.

“The touring. The constant travelling. Always being away from home. How do you do it?”

Andrew shrugged.

“It’s not as bad as it sounds. I get to do what I love, I can’t complain about it, I reckon. I’m so lucky people across the world love my music, that… total strangers on another continent can find something to relate to in my songs… It’s more than I’ve ever hoped for concerning my career. I’m very grateful for that.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

He couldn’t refrain a small smile at that. You were always so stubborn, never letting him get away with things. He loved that about you, it was endearing.

He set his gaze on the landscape too, tracked some clouds drifting in the blue sky. The weather was so lovely this afternoon… he wondered when it would turn to rain.

“It’s tough,” he admitted. “On one hand I’m unbearably lucky. I love travelling, I’m going to places I would never have dreamt of visiting. I meet amazing people. I get to perform my songs, and people come to see me. And I would lie if I pretended that I don’t love touring. But it’s… it’s hard to be away for so long. You live out of a suitcase. You don’t have a proper bed, not to mention your own. You never sleep twice in the same place, you’re always busy, always torn in a thousand directions at once… you’re never on your own, there are constantly at least five people in the same room as you. Sleeping in a bus is hell. You’re… exhausted, all the time. Stressed because of all the things to do, stressed about the schedule, the interviews, the nerves before a show… And I miss home. I miss my parents, and my brother. I miss my friends. I miss my house, and my dog, and my bees, and just… this. I miss this place. And I miss you…”

He heaved a sigh, forcing himself to look at you again, feeling your stare upon him.

“But in the end, I love it. There’s nothing as rewarding as hearing someone else singing something I have written. There’s nothing as exhilarating as being on stage, and performing and… It feels like I was born to do that. It just feels so right. It’s the same when I write music. It just feels right.”

Slowly, you nodded, a gentle smile on your lips.

“I understand. But it sounds lonely.”

“I’m literally never on my own, that’s an issue, actually… to me it is, at least.”

“But you’re not with your family. Can you say that you’re with the people who matter most to you?”

“Some of them are.”

“What about most of us?”

He granted you a sad smile.

“Yeah… yeah, I miss all of you.”

You looked away again, and he was surprised to catch a glimpse at tears in your eyes.

“I don’t think I could do it. Not just travelling but… just… how can you be with someone if you’re never here?”

It was his turn to look away to hide rising tears. His throat tightened, his heart dropped, his chest was collapsing…

Was that why you didn’t want to be with him? Why you kept him at arm’s length?

“It can be difficult,” he nodded.

“Is that why you broke up with your ex?”

“There were a bunch of reasons. But it was one of them, yeah.”

“I… I don’t think I could handle it. Waiting for you to come back…”

“I understand.”

“Don’t get me wrong, when I proposed our… arrangement… it wasn’t because it was you. I… I genuinely don’t want to date anyone at the moment. My job is a lot. And I… I’m a little lost these days. What I’m trying to say is that… I feel lonely, sometimes. But I can’t be in a relationship right now. But if I proposed for us to remain friends, it wasn’t because I was rejecting you specifically. Do you see what I mean?”

“I think so… but I… I mean like… my career means that… if you were in a position that allowed you time and space for a relationship, you would still not choose me, right? That’s what it means.”

“I…”

But you grew quiet, and he wasn’t stupid. His vision was blurred with tears: a mix of several shades of green, a splash of blue and some grey and white. A cloud was passing.

He had come all the way here with you to talk, and he had his answer.

“You’re… you’re still okay with what we agreed on, right?”

What could he answer?

No… no, it hurts more than anything I’ve ever experienced. But I can’t lose you for good. I’m not strong enough to survive it…

“Had I been anything else but a touring musician… would you have wanted to date me?” he asked, voice deeper than usual, unbearably fragile.

You didn’t say anything; he took your answer for a no.

He was being a fool…

“I can’t think like that, Andy.”

“Why not?”

“For the same reason you can’t stay for the entire night. That we can’t have pet names. That you can’t kiss me now.”

He blinked his tears away to look at you, frowning, silently encouraging you to keep going.

“I can’t let you break my heart, Andrew.”

His lips parted at your words, he tried to wrap his mind around their meaning, blinked a few times.

It was… It was him. He was the problem. Him, and his job. The same pattern it had always been, all over again, but with you this time around.

You cleared your throat, stood up in a hurry.

“Come on, let’s finish this hike!”

He looked at you as you started to walk away, but didn’t move a muscle.

You could have loved him, and he would still stand no chance at all…

#andrew hozier byrne #hozier #the hoziest #hozier x reader #hozier x you #hozier x fem!reader #hozier x y/n #hozier fanfiction #hozier series #series #fanfic #fanfiction #writing

[justanamesstuff]

Sweeter than honey - Hozier x f!reader

A/N: sorry not sorry if this is the most cliché thing about Andy but couldn't help my self. This fic is a statement to say this man deserves more stories under his name <33 love you forest daddy (hope you never reads this haha) Warnings: FLUFF, typos Words count: 0.7 k

The short path from Andrew’s house to the –no so small — patch of his land, destined to his bees, felt like it took ages to walk down. She felt her stomach turn due to anxiety thinking about the task in hand. Y/n had been stung by a bee during her childhood, traumatizing her enough so the pain, the fear, remained for years and years. The woman damned herself for being in love with the biggest beekeeper around town. 

 Her sight fell on Andrew’s back, watching him walk with so much excitement, she couldn’t reciprocate. The man had been trying for the longest time to convince his girlfriend to meet his bees, being the offer declined time and time again. Until Y/n felt guilty enough and finally said yes. She would never forget the bright smile he gifted her when Y/n timidly asked about the process and she could join him during his next visit. 

As if he could sense her eyes on him, Andrew turned around still walking not wasting any minute, scared about Y/n changing her mind. 

“Baby?” his smile fell a little. 

“If one of them sting me…” she warned him, still scared of the situation. 

Andrew stopped in his tracks, worried about his girlfriend once more. The man grabbed her hand on his, sharing some warmth, wishing it could take away her fear. 

Searching for her eyes, he continued, “trust me, okay?”

Y/n couldn’t help to push her feet down on the earth like a little child throwing a tantrum. The act made her boyfriend laugh. 

“Baby…” she wanted to wipe his amusement away. 

“Stop making fun of me. This is serious for me, Andy.”

He moved closer and closer, rounding her with his big arms. 

Y/n felt his breath on her hair line, “I know, I know. Everything will be okay, I wouldn’t let you get hurt, baby. I promise.” Andrew ended his sentence leaving a kiss on her forehead. 

“Okay, let's do this.” she moved backwards, giving him a stronger look than before, trying to let him know she was ready.

Hand in hand, they approached the colonies. 

……………………………………..

In the end, Y/n had fun with Andrew and his bees. He showed her the day-to-day work, the progress of each colony, and even she saw a queen from up close, which excited her the most. She did fell scared during the first movements when he was worried about a box falling apart and all his attention was in transferring the colony to their new home. 

Even though after that short moment, her boyfriend was focused on making her fell comfortable around his little friends. It was even ironic how gentle the bees were, just as Andy, making her fell quickly in love with them. 

Y/n watched him too his special outfit, trying to comb his long hair, and like a little excited girl she started talking. 

“So, when do we come back?” 

Andrew chuckled.

“Someone is not scared any more, huh?” he teased her, combing his hair back into his signature bun. 

Y/n felt too seen by her boyfriend, “Well, I-” 

“We can return tomorrow, if you want…” Andrew offered, taking her face between his big hands.

“Really?”

“Yes, baby. Whatever you want.”

“I would love to!” she answered, looking into his soft eyes. 

“Me too.” he left a kick kiss on her lips, feeling her relax into his embrace. 

Y/n was the first one to push back, “I can’t wait to see them again.”

Andrew, amazed by her changed of attitude towards the bees, faked a frown. 

“I’m starting to believe you prefer them over me.” 

“Hundred percent yes!” Y/n joined the joke, whispering her answer before covering her mouth quickly with her hand. “Never, my love.”

The singer laughed at her antics, leaning down to kiss her once more. 

Without many more words, Andrew and Y/n walked in silence towards his house when an intrusive though crossed Y/n’s head. 

“Would you name a queen after me?”

Andy stayed silence.

“Andy?”

Still no answer.

“Don’t tell me…”  Y/n turned to witness a very red-faced Andrew. “Stop it! You’re too sweet to be true, honey!” she exclaimed, making her best effort to kiss his blushed cheeks. 

#hozier #hozier x reader #hozier x y/n #andrew hozier byrne

[pucksandpower]

Too Sweet

Toto Wolff x Reader

Max Verstappen x ex!Reader

Summary: Max used to think that you’re too sweet for him … now he has to learn to live with the fact that Toto has quite a sweet tooth (inspired by the song that I’ve had on repeat)

I take my whiskеy neat

The doors to the upscale restaurant swing open and Max strides through, his fingers lightly grazing the small of your back as he guides you inside. The dimly lit interior is bustling with the chatter of well-heeled patrons enjoying their evening repasts. A sharply dressed hostess greets you with a polite smile.

“Good evening, sir. Welcome to The Sazerac Room. Do you have a reservation?”

“Verstappen,” Max replies curtly.

The hostess consults her tablet, then nods. “Right this way please.”

She leads the two of you through the elegant dining room, weaving between tables topped with crisp white linens and elaborate floral centerpieces. Max keeps his hand at your back, his thumb idly stroking in a soothing pattern as you take in the opulent surroundings with wide eyes.

“This place is incredible,” you murmur, craning your neck to admire the ornate chandeliers glittering overhead. “Thank you for bringing me here.”

He simply grunts in acknowledgment as the hostess stops before an intimate table tucked discreetly in the corner. After pulling out your chair for you with a flourish, she sets two leather-bound menus on the table.

“Your server will be right with you,” she informs them before departing with a polite nod.

You waste no time in opening your menu, hungrily perusing the offerings. “Oh Max, look at all these amazing cocktails! The La Vie en Rose sounds divine — rose liqueur, raspberries, lemon ...” You glance up at him hopefully. “We should get a couple of those to start.”

Max barely glances at his own menu before shaking his head. “I’ll just have a whiskey neat.”

Your face falls slightly at his brusque response. “Are you sure? These all look so good! We should live a little and try something fun for once.”

He fixes you with a stern look from across the table. “You know I don’t like frilly drinks. Now stop pestering me about it.”

Chastened by his harsh tone, you lapse into a wounded silence and continue reading the menu with diminished enthusiasm. A few moments later, a dapper middle-aged gentleman in a crisp suit appears at your table.

“Good evening, and welcome to The Sazerac Room. My name is William and I’ll be your server this evening.” With a polite smile, he produces a notepad from his breast pocket. “May I start you off with something to drink?”

You glance back at Max, giving him one last chance to change his mind. When he simply gazes back at you impassively, you sigh. “I’ll have the La Vie en Rose cocktail, please.”

William jots down your order before turning to Max expectantly.

“Whiskey neat,” Max says flatly. “Redbreast 27 Year, if you have it.”

“An excellent choice, sir.” William makes a note. “And may I bring you both some bread from our bakery while you decide on your meals?”

“That would be wonderful, thank you,” you reply gratefully.

William departs to place the drink orders, leaving you and Max alone once more. An awkward silence stretches between you, filled only by the tinkle of silverware and murmurs of conversation from surrounding tables.

Finally, you try again. “Max, are you sure I can’t tempt you with one little sip? This La Vie en Rose cocktail sounds absolutely divine. You might lov-”

“For fuck’s sake!” Max suddenly explodes, slamming his menu down on the table hard enough to rattle the cutlery. “How many times do I have to tell you I don’t want any of your ridiculous fruity bullshit? I’m a fucking race car driver, not some ridiculous Instagram model trying to look pretty with my drink.”

His nostrils flare as he leans across the table, eyes flashing with irritation that you would dare continue to push the issue. “I’ve had a long fucking day and I am going to drink whatever the fuck I want. So order your stupid fucking girly cocktail if you must, but don’t act so goddamn disappointed and keep shoving it in my face when I say no.”

You shrink back in your chair, eyes widening with hurt at his enraged outburst. The crestfallen look on your face is enough to douse Max’s fury like a bucket of ice water. He slumps back, remorse already stirring as he witnesses the light dimming in your eyes, lips trembling ever so slightly as you blink back sudden tears.

“I … I was just excited to try something new together,” you whisper shakily. “But never mind. You’re right, I’m sorry.”

The arrival of William with a basket of assorted breads and your glittering pink cocktail garnished with raspberries provides a merciful distraction from the tension.

You immediately reach for the drink, wrapping your hands around the delicate stemmed glass and taking a large gulp — both to avoid making eye contact with Max and to sample your coveted libation.

A look of bliss softens your features as the tart, sugary concoction bursts across your taste buds. “Mmm, this is incredible!”

For a beat, Max can’t help but drink in your look of pure enjoyment — the way your eyes flutter closed in delight, pink lips quirking into a contented smile as you savor each sip. It simultaneously tugs at his heartstrings and fills him with an irrational stab of resentment.

Here you are, sweet and radiant, able to find joy in the simplest of things … while he is just a miserable bastard who can’t let himself enjoy anything without getting irrationally angry.

You deserve so much better than him.

The thought is sobering and he feels shame burn hot in his gut. Unconsciously, his shoulders slump as he watches you take another euphoric sip of your cocktail.

“I knew it, this is amazing,” you sigh happily, seemingly recovered from his earlier tantrum as you bask in the deliciousness of your drink. “Max, you have to try just one little-”

“No.” The refusal is automatic, the word slicing through your offer before he can think better of it.

Your face shutters once more, the bright light in your eyes dimming as your smile fades into resignation. With a soft exhale, you set your glass down and reach for the bread basket instead.

“Suit yourself, then.”

As you silently butter a roll, Max finds himself at a rare loss, anger dissipating into regret as the knot in his stomach tightens painfully. Tonight was supposed to be a celebration after his impressive win on the track, a chance for the two of you to enjoy each other’s company and make more happy memories together.

Instead, he’s gone and ruined the mood … again … just like he always does.

***

“Another round?” Checo’s voice cuts through the sound of laughter and chatter around the table.

Max glances up distractedly from pushing the remaining bits of food around his plate. He, Checo, and a few other members of the Red Bull team are celebrating a successful Monaco Grand Prix. Despite making the podium, Max’s mind hasn’t really been on the festivities.

“I’m all set, thanks,” he mutters, raising his glass of whiskey with a tight smile before taking a sip. His gaze drifts across the opulent dining room of Cipriani Monte Carlo, idly scanning the crowd of wealthy patrons enjoying their evening meals.

That’s when his eyes catch on a shockingly familiar figure.

You.

Sitting at an intimate corner table, bathed in the soft glow of a candle’s flickering flame. For a moment, Max’s breath catches in his throat as a thousand bittersweet memories assault him all at once.

The hurt look on your face that night at The Sazerac Room … the resignation in your eyes as you accepted, yet again, that he would never be able to appreciate the sweet, simple pleasures that brought you such joy ...

The cold, empty silence that descended over your apartment when he finally left for good, stuffing his belongings into a duffel bag as you watched with trembling lips from across the room ...

Max blinks, and the moment passes — but his gaze remains riveted to your table. Because there, sitting across from you with adoration written across his insufferable face … is Toto Wolff.

Max feels his lips curl into an unconscious sneer as the Mercedes team principal murmurs something to you with a gentle smile, reaching across to delicately brush a lock of hair behind your ear. You catch Toto’s hand as it falls, pressing a tender kiss into his palm that makes the older man’s expression soften even further.

Your waiter arrives then, providing a momentary distraction as he lays out a couple of fresh cocktails on crisp white linen — a bright purple concoction garnished with a sugared rim and a plump cherry for you and an amber-hued old fashioned for Toto.

Your eyes light up as you take in the colorful beverage, immediately wrapping your hands around the delicate stemmed glass and bringing it to your lips to sample. A look of pure delight crosses your features as the no doubt sugary drink bursts across your taste buds.

“Mmm ...” you hum in pleasure, causing Toto to chuckle affectionately as he watches you enjoy the first reveling sips.

Setting your glass down, you gesture enthusiastically toward it as you address Toto. “This is incredible! You have to try it.”

Without hesitation, the Mercedes team boss dutifully leans across the table to take a long pull from your straw. Max watches with a mixture of disgust and morbid fascination as Toto’s expression morphs into one of surprised enjoyment.

“Wow, that is quite good, isn’t it?” Toto remarks with an indulgent grin, licking a telltale dab of purple syrup from the corner of his mouth.

“I told you!” You crow in delight, eyes sparkling with unrestrained glee.

The pure joy radiating from you in that moment is enough to make Max’s heart clench in his chest. He has seen that look before, so many times — whenever he deigned to let go of his surly demeanor for even a moment and actually indulge whatever fleeting whim or simple pleasure you desired to share with him.

But it was always so short-lived with him, stamped out by his own stubborn refusal to truly embrace anything resembling happiness or frivolity. You deserved so much more than his constant scowling and gruff rebuffs.

As if reading his thoughts, Toto then leans across the table to tenderly capture your lips in a soft, lingering kiss. The gentle intimacy of it makes Max’s gut churn as a feeling too complicated to fully unpack blossoms in his chest.

When you finally part, both of you are smiling at each other with such open, unguarded adoration that it’s almost obscene to witness. Toto reaches out to cradle your face in his palm as your lips find his once more in another chaste, loving caress.

This time, when you pull away, you let your head loll back with a look of pure bliss. Something deep within Max cracks and splinters at the sight. In a haze, he finds himself drifting back through the churning currents of memory ...

… that last, fateful shouting match in your living room, both of you red-faced and furious as the dam holding back all the anger and resentment and accusations that had been building for months finally burst ...

… you weeping silently as you clutched a meager trash bag containing what little remained of his belongings, not even able to look at him for fear of collapsing completely ...

… “I’m too sweet for you, Max. You’ve made that perfectly clear.”

The acid words burn in his mind even now, feeling as fresh and raw as that night they were spat out like venom between you. His chest constricts as his gaze falls guiltily back to the present day scene in front of him.

Toto and you, basking in the warm, rosy glow of new love — careless and unrestrained in your public affection. Delighting in each other’s company and simple pleasures … just as you always desired for Max to do, yet he could never fully surrender to.

The display is like a twisted mirror, taunting him with the vibrant reflection of what he threw away. What he was too foolish, too emotionally stunted and uncaring to fully appreciate at the time.

Stumbling from his chair in a daze, Max barely registers the questioning looks and concerned murmurs from his team as he staggers from the dining room. He hardly makes it to the privacy of the restroom before bending at the waist, hefting the contents of his stomach into the thankfully pristine porcelain basin.

The whiskey burns on the way back up.

Max grips the edges of the counter, face contorted in anguish as a realization washes over him in searing waves.

You were the real prize all along … and now, he’s lost you for good.

My coffee black

The drone of announcements over the PA system and the dull roar of hundreds of people bustling to and fro mingles into an ever-present white noise hum. Max trudges ahead, the brim of his ball cap tugged low as he weaves through the teeming crowds filing through the airports’ terminals.

It’s just after 5 am, the start of another grueling race week. This time the travel will take you from the Middle Eastern leg of the circuit to the other side of the world in Australia. Twenty-plus hours of planes, layovers, and jet lag beckon — a prospect that grows less and less appealing with each passing season.

A warm weight presses against his side as you shuffle along beside him, head lolling adorably as you struggle to keep your eyes open. One slender hand is looped through the crook of his elbow, gripping the strap of your carry-on bag with the other. You let out a jaw-cracking yawn, leaning into Max’s solid bulk.

“I need coffee,” you mumble groggily. “I’m barely conscious.”

He shoots you a sidelong glance, mouth quirking ever-so-slightly at your dramatics. As grating as your tendency for excessive cheerfulness can be at times, he does admire your ability to shake off the fatigue and stress that plagues him more and more these days.

“There’s one of those chains up ahead,” he grunts, nodding toward the familiar logo peeking through from around the corner.

You light up immediately, straightening and quickening your shuffling steps in anticipation of the caffeinated boost soon to come. By the time you reach the counter, there’s a bright spark back in your eyes that makes the exhaustion plaguing Max’s own limbs feel slightly more bearable.

The barista, a pimple-faced youth who can’t be any older than 18, greets you with a too-wide smile. “Welcome to Daily Grind! What can I get started for you?”

You lean in eagerly, surveying the massive display of chalkboard signs advertising the latest sugar bombs and “coffee” concoctions designed to appease the basic palates of everyday people who wouldn’t know a good cup of joe if it slapped them across the face. Max scowls, already anticipating some ridiculously saccharine order.

“I’ll have a large cinnamon honey oat milk latte, please,” you chirp, as expected.

The barista marks down your request with a perky nod. “Excellent! And for you, sir?”

“Black coffee,” Max replies flatly. “Medium.”

Your brow furrows as you shoot him a quizzical look. “Just black coffee? Not even a splash of cream or anything?”

He shakes his head tersely, one hand already rummaging in his pocket for his wallet as the barista rattles off the total. “We’re in a rush as it is, and that sugary nonsense you ordered takes forever to make with all the fussy bullshit they do to it.”

You wince at his blunt assessment, shoulders slumping a bit in a way that makes a pang of guilt flicker through Max’s chest. He doesn’t mean to be so harsh … but sometimes it’s like the more considerate side of his nature has been ground away by years of constant training and calculating every single variable down to the most minute detail.

The poor kid working the register seems to shrink under the intensity of Max’s gruff demeanor. With shaky hands, he quickly processes the payment before stammering out your total. As you shuffle off to the side to wait for your orders, Max can’t help but keep picking.

“Honestly, I don’t know why you insist on ordering those stupid drinks that are 90% milk and trash,” he mutters, shooting you a disapproving look. “Barely any actual coffee at all.”

You frown, immediately hunching into yourself a bit as you cradle a handful of napkins against your chest. “It’s not like that coffee flavor isn’t there at all,” you argue meekly. “And I have to get some kind of caffeine boost to stay awake during all these flights and race weekends. I just … I don’t really like the taste of black coffee.”

Max scoffs loudly at that, shaking his head in open derision. “Sure, because drinking just regular black coffee like an adult would be too difficult. Instead you have to get your ‘caffeine boost’ from some tooth-rottingly sweet concoction that looks like something a child would order.”

The barista shifts uncomfortably behind the counter, clearly flustered by Max’s abrasive tone. Not that he cares — he’s been dealing with people gawking at him in public for years now. What does rub him the wrong way is the wounded look spreading across your delicate features, eyes dropping to stare dejectedly at the floor.

He opens his mouth to continue chiding you, but at that moment the barista appears with your drinks. The sweet, cinnamony aroma of your order hits Max’s nostrils like a slap in the face, making his nose wrinkle on instinct. You accept your oversized paper cup gratefully, hands automatically curling around the comforting warmth.

With visible enthusiasm, you bring the drink to your lips, unable to resist taking a sip despite the scalding temperature. Max tracks the minute changes in your expression — the slight widening of your eyes, the upward quirk of your lips into a smile of unalloyed contentment. Your lashes flutter closed on a quiet hum of blissful appreciation.

“Mmm … heaven,” you practically moan, hunching over your cup as though to better inhale the revitalizing notes of sugar and spice.

It makes Max want to retch, watching you so unashamedly indulging in such vapid, artificial flavors. How can you find such simple-minded pleasure in that, when you could be savoring the bold, robust notes of a proper cup of black coffee? One meant to awaken the senses and caress the taste buds with its smoky aroma and rich, nuanced flavor notes.

“You can’t honestly get any enjoyment from basically drinking hot milk and flavored syrups,” he mutters, sneering at the offensive beverage in your grasp.

In response, you simply shift closer to him until you’re pressed alongside his body. Your free hand snakes around his bicep, squeezing gently as you tilt your head back to gaze up at him imploringly. Exhaustion and hurt war openly with the angelic softness of your delicate features.

“Max … can’t you just let me enjoy this?” You plead in a low murmur. “It’s early, and we’ve got a long flight ahead.”

His jaw clenches stubbornly, unwilling to back down so easily. Caffeine and sleep deprivation have eroded his already thin sense of decorum.

“I’m just saying, drinking a syrupy dessert drink loaded with sugar and god knows what else isn’t doing you any favors. You might as well just stick to black coffee like a normal adult if you want to be awake and energized.”

The wounded look in your eyes deepens into something more somber and resigned. Slowly, you pull away from Max’s side until a noticeable distance stretches between your bodies. Something inside him shrivels at the loss of contact. Your slender fingers work feverishly at the cup’s lid until it pops off with a dull thunk.

Max stares blankly as you march over to the nearest trash can and upend the contents of your cup into the receptacle. You don’t even seem to hesitate — simply turn on your heel and hurl the now-empty cup in after the wasted drink. It clatters hollowly against the canister, mocking and empty.

When you turn back to face Max, the sight makes the now-lukewarm coffee sitting neglected in his own cup feels like a lead weight in his gut. Your arms are wrapped protectively around yourself, hunched against some unseen foe. Head bowed, you refuse to meet his gaze as you slowly make your way back over to where he stands rooted to the spot in stunned silence.

It’s only as you draw up beside him that Max notices the twin tear tracks striping your cheeks. Your chin remains stubbornly trembling, but you make no move to wipe at the tears now falling freely. Max’s chest constricts almost painfully at the sight of your misery, the guilt gnawing at him as the reality sets in.

He is the reason for it. His harsh, uncompromising tongue has wounded you in one of the cruelest ways once again. Too strict, too unyielding, too incapable of allowing even the smallest indulgences that bring you simple joy without sneering dismissal.

For several agonizing moments, the two of you stand in silence amid the milling crowds of travelers streaming past. Max can’t bring himself to meet your gaze, knowing he’ll only find the depths of his own callous thoughtlessness reflected back at him in your swimming eyes.

Finally, you release a shuddering sigh that sounds far too weighted for someone of your sweetness and light. When you speak, your voice is little more than a tremulous murmur laced with dejection.

“Let’s just go to the gate, Max.”

You brush past him without another word, leaving him to trail numbly in your wake as shame burns a hole through his gut. He watches as your form disappears into the throngs, shoulders already beginning to hunch inward as that spark of happiness in you gutters and fades.

Lingering behind, Max’s gaze falls to the empty cup lying crumpled and discarded in the trash. A reminder of yet another instance where his unchecked tongue and inability to empathize has spoiled an innocent attempt at simple pleasure.

His coffee suddenly tastes like ash on his tongue.

As he moves to dump the neglected drink into the nearby basin, Max wonders with a sinking feeling just how many more times he’ll be able to snuff out your light before it dwindles to nothing.

***

The late morning sun bears down with oppressive force, causing a mirage-like haze to shimmer over the sweltering asphalt of the paddock. Despite being early summer, the Spanish air is already thick and heavy enough to bathe Max’s skin in a sheen of perspiration as he trudges toward the Red Bull Energy Station.

Ahead, he spots a cluster of people milling aimlessly near the entrance to the Mercedes motorhome. At the center appears to be you, head tilted back in unrestrained laughter at something George Russell is regaling you with. The British driver is equally animated, pale features scrunched up in exaggerated motions as he relays what is no doubt an amusing tale.

Max feels his steps gradually slow of their own accord as he takes you in from a distance. You seem utterly at ease and in your element — cheeky grin splitting your face, one hand toying idly with the ends of your hair as your eyes crinkle with unbridled mirth.

A pure vision of effortless contentment.

His gut clenches unexpectedly, unbidden memories of how he methodically chipped away at that very lightness in you until it was all but extinguished washing over him in a nauseating wave. How quickly he took such simple joys for granted ...

So transfixed is he by the sight of your open, honest amusement that Max barely notices the figure slipping up behind you. Not until Toto Wolff raises a conspiratorial finger to his lips, eyes twinkling impishly as he pantomimes for silence at a sputtering George.

You remain oblivious even as the Mercedes team principal slides flush against your back, looping one arm around your waist to tug you snug against his chest. With his free hand, Toto cups it teasingly over your eyes — to which you release a tinkling peal of laughter.

“Guess who?” The playful lilt of the older man’s Austrian lilt is unmistakable, dripping with honeyed warmth.

“Hmm … I wonder,” you murmur coyly, making a show of tapping your chin in feigned confusion. “Is it a dashing gentleman caller here to sweep me off my feet?”

Toto chuckles deeply in your ear, the sound positively dripping with unguarded affection. “Only if you’ll have me, liebling.”

Craning your head back with a cheeky grin, your arms instinctively wind around his neck as you stretch up on your tiptoes to greet him properly. Toto meets your lips in a lingering, languid kiss that has George hastily clearing his throat and looking resolutely anywhere but at the affectionate display before him.

When you finally part, all radiant smiles and flushed cheeks, it’s like the rest of the world has completely fallen away. Toto gazes down at you with such pure adoration that Max feels his throat constrict as though a belt is suddenly cinched tight around it.

“I have a surprise for you, schnucki,” Toto murmurs huskily, lips brushing your temple as he speaks.

You light up like a kid on Christmas morning, practically vibrating with excitement at his words. “Oh? Do tell!”

With a wink and roguish smile, Toto brandishes his other hand from behind his back — in it, clutched protectively, is a large cup topped with whipped cream and what looks like edible flower petals sprinkled over the top. The light purple hue of the iced contents catches in the bright sun, refracting a prism of soft, delicate colors.

“I had the barista in our hospitality whip this up for you,” Toto explains fondly. “After I mentioned how much you enjoy trying unique coffee flavors. It’s a lavender vanilla iced latte.”

Your mouth drops open in a perfect ‘o’ of delight as you instinctively make grabby motions toward the tantalizing beverage. Max recognizes that earnest enthusiasm all too well. It’s the same look you used to get whenever presented with any unique taste or experience to appreciate.

A look he always met with disdain and scorn.

Toto doesn’t hesitate for a second before depositing the cup into your greedy hands. You immediately cradle it reverently, as though it’s the most precious thing you’ve ever held. Ducking your head, you take a long pull through the striped paper straw.

The expression that blossoms across your features as that first taste bursts over your tongue is one of pure, unadulterated bliss. Your eyes flutter closed on a muffled moan of sinful enjoyment, lips pursing as though savoring each individual note of flavor. Max hasn’t seen you look that unguardedly delighted by anything in … well, he can’t actually recall the last time.

“Oh Toto, this is heavenly!” You gush, swiping your tongue across your lower lip to catch a stray drop of condensation. “The lavender is subtle, but gives it such a uniquely fresh and floral twist. And the vanilla adds this creamy sweetness that keeps it from being overwhelming.”

You open your eyes to beam radiantly up at the older man, who returns your luminous smile with equal warmth. “It’s perfect, thank you! You have to try it.”

Without prompting, you eagerly offer the cup up to Toto. He accepts it with an indulgent chuckle, locking eyes with you as he takes a contemplative sip — no doubt eager to share in whatever fleeting moment of bliss the simple drink has brought you.

Unlike Max, who would have turned up his nose and likely received it with derision, Toto seems to savor the complex blend of flavors. Humming thoughtfully, he swipes his tongue across his upper lip as though committing each separate note to memory.

“You’re quite right, liebling,” he agrees readily, “this is delightful. So refreshing for this heat. I may have to acquire a taste for these iced coffees myself.”

You positively glow at his assessment, lighting up from within like a joyful little sun. Max is helpless before the storm of emotions suddenly ripping through him at the sight.

“Oh! That reminds me,” you chirp giddily, bouncing on the balls of your feet, “I was talking to the barista about maybe incorporating some other floral syrups for iced coffees too. Like rose or hibiscus! And maybe we could get her to try making those fun layered drinks with the espresso on the bottom-”

Toto’s deep belly laugh cuts off your stream of eager rambling. Without warning, he snakes an arm around your waist and tugs you flush against him once more. You let out a startled giggle as he buries his nose in the crook of your neck, lips brushing the feverish pulse point just beneath your jaw.

“You adorable thing,” he rumbles warmly, words slightly muffled against your skin as he presses a languid line of kisses along the sharp line of your jaw. “So enthusiastic about the simplest pleasures in life ...”

Pulling back, Toto lifts one hand to tenderly cradle the side of your face. You automatically nuzzle into his palm with a look of such smitten devotion that it makes Max’s heart stutter behind his ribcage. When Toto leans in to seal his lips over yours once more, the kiss is deep and thoroughly unhurried — as though the two of you have all the time in the world to savor this intimate little moment.

Max’s hands clench into white-knuckled fists, blunt nails biting crescent moons into his clammy palms. He should turn away, leave you to your blissful display with someone who so clearly appreciates you. Yet he remains rooted in place, unable to tear his eyes from the scene unfolding before him.

It’s like witnessing an alternate universe version of your shared lives play out in vivid, scorching detail.

In this reality, Toto is the one tenderly stroking the pad of his thumb over the elegant arch of your cheekbone as the two of you part, drinking in the sight of your passion-addled features hungrily. He is the one basking in the radiance of your bright and unrestrained joy. Celebrating each of your simple thrills, from the most frivolous of flavored coffees to the sensual graze of skin on skin.

And where does that leave Max? An outsider peering in at paradise with his face smeared against the glass, watching the warmth and affection he could never fully embrace slowly slip through his calloused fingers.

And my bed at three

The mattress shifts, the subtle movement rousing Max from his slumber. He cracks one eye open to find the space next to him empty, the sheets disheveled where you had lain.

A glance at the digital clock on the nightstand tells him it’s not yet 5 am. Where are you going at this hour?

He hears faint rustling from the living area of the hotel suite, followed by the soft click of the door. Groaning, he kicks off the covers and pads out of the bedroom, the plush carpet warm beneath his bare feet.

You’re sitting on the couch, slipping into a pair of flats. “What are you doing up so early?” He asks, his voice still husky from sleep.

You look up, startled. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.” A soft smile plays on your lips. “I was going to watch the sunrise.”

Max rakes a hand through his tousled hair. “Why would you want to do that?”

“Because it’s beautiful.” Your eyes sparkle with an excitement he can’t comprehend this early in the morning. “The colors, the way the light slowly creeps over the horizon — it’s just magical.”

He snorts. “It happens every day. Nothing magical about it.”

Your face falls ever so slightly, and it tugs at something in his chest. But the feeling is fleeting, replaced by annoyance at having his sleep disturbed for something so trivial. “So you didn’t want to join me, then?” You ask, almost timidly.

“And wake up before the ass-crack of dawn? No thanks.” He flops onto the couch beside you with a huff. “I was up until 3 am sim racing. Not all of us find staring at the sky such riveting entertainment.”

You say nothing, simply nodding as you avert your gaze. The light in your eyes has dimmed, and he feels a pang of guilt. But he shakes it off — it’s far too early for this kind of whimsical nonsense.

“Suit yourself,” he mutters. “I’m going back to bed.”

He doesn’t see the way your shoulders droop as he turns and trudges back towards the bedroom. Doesn’t see the tears that prick at the corners of your eyes before you blink them away and readjust the set of your jaw with determination.

Max burrows under the covers, fully intent on drifting back into oblivion. But sleep evades him, his mind buzzing with a peculiar restlessness. He punches his pillow into a more suitable shape, flips it over to the cool side, but still he lies awake, listening to the silence that fills the suite.

After what feels like an eternity, curiosity gets the better of him. He kicks off the covers once more and pads over to the floor-to-ceiling windows that overlook the city street below. Sure enough, there you are, a tiny figure perched on a bench across the way, your face tipped up towards the slowly lightening sky.

Max leans his forehead against the cool glass, watching as the inky blackness of night gives way to soft shades of periwinkle and lilac. Slowly, the colors deepen into blazing pinks and vibrant oranges that streak across the heavens. The sky ignites in a brilliant blaze of crimson and gold, the clouds set afire by the rising sun.

And there you sit, bathed in the dawn’s ethereal glow, utterly transfixed. In this light, your features seem softer, more at peace than he’s seen you in a long while. A smile plays on your lips, genuine and unguarded, as you take in the spectacle unfolding before you.

Max finds himself holding his breath, as if the slightest movement might shatter the magic of this moment. He’s never seen you look more beautiful, more alive than in these fleeting minutes as day breaks over the city.

A rare pang of tenderness blooms in his chest, quickly overshadowed by a creeping sense of unease. He isn’t certain how much time has passed before the brilliant hues fade into the pale blue of morning, but eventually you rise from the bench, taking one last, lingering look at the sky before turning and disappearing from view.

Max exhales slowly, his breath fogging up the glass. He isn’t proud of how he dismissed your simple joy, that spark of wonderment at the little things that he so often takes for granted.

An emptiness settles in the pit of his stomach, the guilt heavier than before. How many other moments has he trampled on in his relentless pursuit of success?

He thinks of your radiant smile, how it lit up the pre-dawn gloom more vibrantly than the sunrise itself. With a sigh, Max turns away from the window, already dreading the apology he knows he owes you.

Because in that single, breathtaking moment, he realizes just how lucky he is to have someone like you in his life. Someone who can find magic in the mundane, beauty in the simple things he’s become blind to along the way.

Someone, Max fears, who may be too sweet for him.

***

Max gives up on sleep around 4:30 am, as he has for the past several weeks. Insomnia has become his constant, unwanted companion, leaving him tossing and turning until the first hints of dawn creep through the curtains. On nights like this, slumber remains persistently out of reach no matter how exhausted he feels.

He lies in bed, staring at the ceiling as the brightening sky slowly illuminates the room. It wasn’t always this way — he used to be able to sleep like the dead after a race weekend, knocked out by the physical and mental exertion. But lately, his mind refuses to shut off, thoughts swirling endlessly until his head pounds.

With a groan, Max kicks off the tangled sheets and drags himself out of bed. Maybe going for a run will quiet the racket in his brain, at least for a little while. He dresses quickly, lacing up his trainers and grabbing his earbuds before heading out into the semi-darkness.

The pre-dawn streets are blissfully empty as he starts off at an easy jog. He despises becoming one of those obnoxious morning people, but exhaustion has a way of stripping away one’s self-respect. If pounding the pavement before the rest of the world awakes is what it takes to catch a few hours of sleep, so be it.

His route takes him along the harbor, the gentle lapping of the waves against the seawall providing a soothing soundtrack. The first rays of sunlight glint off the glassy surface, and he finds himself averting his gaze, oddly resentful of the impending sunrise.

It wasn’t so long ago that he scoffed at your eagerness to greet each new day. But ever since you’ve been gone from his life, those brilliant, fleeting moments of beauty have begun to mock him at every turn.

He picks up his pace, as if he can outrun the rising sun and the flood of memories it brings. But there’s no escaping the vivid flashes of you, smiling radiantly as the world awakes in a blaze of fiery hues. Or the hollow ache that twinges somewhere beneath his rib cage whenever he’s reminded of just how little he appreciated you.

So lost is he in his circling thoughts that he nearly runs right into you, appearing abruptly on the path ahead. His trainers skid against the pavement as he grinds to a halt, his heart stammering in his chest.

“Max?” You blink up at him, clearly startled by his sudden presence.

He opens his mouth, an automatic apology rising to his lips — until his eyes zero in on the camera clutched in your hands. Of course. Still chasing sunrises after all these years.

A wry grin tugs at the corner of your mouth as you take in his rumpled running attire. “Fancy meeting you here.”

Max says nothing, his gaze flickering briefly towards the brightening horizon before fixing on you once more. You look … well, radiant as ever, lit by the soft morning glow. A small pang of something — longing, maybe — twists in his gut.

“Out enjoying another sunrise, I see,” he says at last, nodding towards the camera.

You glance down at it fondly. “Well, you know how it is. I have to capture them while I can.” A teasing lilt edges into your voice. “Not all of us are night owls.”

He huffs out a humorless laugh. “I’ll never understand what’s so fascinating about watching the same thing happen day after day.”

“But that’s just it — each one is different. Unique and fleeting and … breathtaking.” Your eyes spark with that gentle wonderment he remembers so well, the sight sending a tremor through his chest. “Like getting a front row seat to the greatest show on Earth, but it’s one you’ll never see again.”

You trail off with a small shake of your head, seemingly at a loss to put the feeling into words. Max doesn’t need the explanation — he’s seen that look of childlike awe on your face more times than he can count.

An awkward silence stretches between you, laden with the weight of history and unspoken apologies. You shift your stance, mouth opening as if to say something more.

But Max cuts you off before you can get the words out, unable to bear whatever sentiments might cross those sweet lips of yours. “Toto not joining you this time?” He asks gruffly.

Your expression softens into a fond smile, and it’s like a physical blow to Max’s sternum. He knows that look, has been on the receiving end of it more times than he cares to remember. The way your entire being seems to brighten when you so much as think about someone you love.

“Ah, you know Toto — he’s more of a sunset person,” you say with a light laugh. “I’ve never been able to drag his grumpy butt out of bed for a sunrise.”

Even as his insides curdle with jealousy, Max can’t help the quirk of his lips at the mental image. He could all too easily picture Toto swatting irritably at you, burrowing deeper under the covers to escape the blasted sun.

“But we make it work,” you continue, that loving glow refusing to dim from your eyes. “I take photos of the sunrise to share with him later. And he does the same with the sunsets for me. That way, we both get to experience it in a way.”

The gentle sound of your voice washes over Max like a salve, momentarily easing the tangled knot of regret and longing that’s taken up permanent residence inside him. He watches, transfixed, as the early morning light bathes you in ethereal radiance.

In that moment, he sees it so clearly — the depth of give and take in your relationship with Toto. The effort, large and small, that you both put into nurturing one another’s happiness.

Even when your desires don’t perfectly align. Even when compromise is required.

It’s such a simple gesture, capturing those magical moments to share with your loved one. But it’s one Max was never willing to make when you were with him.

A lump forms in his throat as realization washes over him with unforgiving clarity. You weren’t too sweet for him, as he had so arrogantly assumed time and again. No — the truth, much harder to swallow, is that he was simply too sour for you.

Too selfish, too wrapped up in his own ambitions to make even the smallest concession. Too blind to recognize the magic in the simple things that brought you unbridled joy. Too bitter and jaded to embrace and nurture the beautiful nature that made you … well, you.

And now, after all his careless cruelties and wasted chances, he can only stand idly by and watch as someone else basks in the sweetness of your affection. As someone else goes out of their way, day after day, to put that blinding smile on your face and those stars in your eyes.

Something in Max’s chest cracks and crumbles at the injustice of it all. At the agonizing truth that he let the best thing in his life slip through his fingers, all because he couldn’t be bothered to change his sullen ways.

Because you were never too sweet for him … he was too sour for you.

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[rafeandonlyrafe]

almost sweet music

words: 900

warnings: 18+ only, smut, thigh job, clit rubbing, brief tit play, childhood friends to lovers, kinda somnophilia?

your eyes are open, but they might as well be closed as you look at nothing but pure darkness. you shift ever so slightly, pressing further into rafes hold.

it's not the first time you've shared a bed. he's been your friend for years, and you used to have sleepovers every weekend before your bodies developed and it became awkward.

you would still occasionally fall asleep in rafes bed, usually when the movie he picked to watch was too boring, or when you were waiting around for him and ended up taking a nap enveloped in his scent.

tonight is different. even when you share a bed, rafe never cuddles so close to you like this. yeah, you'll wake up with your head on his chest or a leg slung over his, but rafe is pressed right against your back.

his chest is rising and falling in a steady rhythm, but you can't tell for certain if he's asleep or just relaxed having you against him.

you close your eyes, relaxing back into his hold. his soft breath fans over your shoulder, barely covered by your tank top strap.

you're about to fall asleep when you feel something poking you. your eyes open again, wider this time as rafes hip press forward.

his obvious erection grinds against your ass, slow movements fooling you into believing rafe must be asleep still, body acting on its own, much like yours does when you seek him out in your sleep.

rafe let's out a soft moan, then a mumble of your name, and now you're certain he must be awake since you've never heard him sleep talk before.

his hips begin to move faster, like he's testing out how far he can take it before you wake up. how much movement will it take for you to stir, testing how much he can get away with.

you stiffen for a brief moment before relaxing again. you squeeze your eyes shut as you try to keep your breathing regular. you don't want rafe to stop. 

to others, it's been a clear (and long) game you've been playing, both pining after each other while claiming to just be best friends. this is the first time rafe has shown any clear evidence to you of his sexual attraction. what you don't see is his longing looks whenever your back is turned, or the way he's quick to go after any guy who looks at you for a little too long.

you let out a silent curse in your head. of course he's only doing this because he thinks your asleep as he moves faster against you, barriers of fabric in the way but not stopping his light moans, almost sweet music against your ears.

you wonder how long he's been pushing up against you before it woke you up. you consider your options. sit here silently, let him cum in his pants, or take action, show you're awake, and change your life forever.

you're done with the game as you reach down, startling rafe as he lets out a curse, but you simply pull your shorts down along with your underwear, revealing your bare ass as you spread your thighs, pussy on show and already starting to get wet.

you wait for rafe to continue. when it's clear he won't, you reach behind your back to pull his cock out of his pajama pants.

rafe follows your motions, taking your lead and going as far as you will allow as you rub his cock through your folds before closing your thighs around him.

“keep going.” you say. 

the words is all the encouragement rafe needs as he begins to thrust, the slick between your thighs growing as he pushes against you.

a hand that was holding you close to him travels to your pussy, rubbing you with a single finger, the pad rough against your sensitive clit.

the sound of slapping skin is a telltale sign of what is happening in the dark, as rafes hips meet your ass with every thrust.

you long for him to press into your cunt, but you know you need to have an actual discussion about what this is before allowing him to fuck you properly. the thighs will have to do.

rafe rubs faster, with a clear purpose as his cock swells. you can tell he's not far off, and the pure excitement from finally being with rafe also has your high growing.

you press further into his chest as your thighs squeeze together as tight as you can force them, letting out a moan when rafe spills, cum spurting through the gap onto the bed sheet.

he leaves his cock to soften between your legs as his finger keeps working on you, free hand coming to grab your chest over your shirt, hand possessively gripping your tits until your back arches, a strangled moan leaving your lips as you cum.

rafes hands disappear from off of you. you turn to face him, but can't see his expression.

“im-im sorry.” his words are enough for you to pinpoint where his mouth is as you lean in, pressing your lips together in a heated kiss.

“we can talk about it in the morning.” you say, tucking yourself back into his side. “we will cuddle and sleep and be in a much clearer headspace.”

rafe hesitates for a second before pressing a kiss to the top of your head, a soft smile on his face as your breathing returns to normal, not allowing himself to fall asleep until he hears your gentle snores.

taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @forstarkey @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @sourkittie @rafeyslove @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld @wearemadeofstardust0 @leighbronk @starkeysheart @pradabambie @tobesolovelysstuff @akirkland @rafestar @brioffthegrid @juniebugg @magicalyoura @cokepewpsii @mysticallystilinski @luvdella @aerangi @vogueprincess @auryyz @raysmayhem-72 @thestarlithideout @marvelfanfics1recs @rafesgiirl @ditzyzombiesblog @chiaraanatra @tobiaslut @drewsephrry @1aarii1 @edszn @theoraekenslover

#yes the title is a hozier song but the actual song doesnt fit the fic alkjfds #rafe smut #rafe cameron smut #obx smut #outer banks smut #rafe fic #rafe fanfic #rafe fanfiction #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe x you #rafe x y/n #rafe x oc #rafe x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x oc #rafe cameron x reader #rafe blurb #rafe drabble #rafe imagine #rafe one shot #rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron drabble #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron one shot

[my-love-is-sunlight]

Too sweet (for me)

Law x strawhat!reader

gn reader + fluff

100% inspired by Too Sweet by Hozier the moment he dropped this I knew I had to write something about Law from it so here you go, I even incorporated some of the lyrics

Trafalgar Law doesn’t get it

How were you able to slip into his mind so carelessly and without notice? Law had never envisioned himself liking someone as sweet as you

For starters you were a strawhat, already on the wrong track, but alongside Robin, you were of the ones Law tolerated the most since you were usually more introverted and took things seriously, which made him start gravitate towards you

Big mistake

Surprisingly he found out your quiet facade was something reserved for strangers, once you warmed up to his presence everything changed

You looked after him, bringing his black coffee when he stayed up all night in the library, urging him to sleep at normal hours and enjoy his time at the Sunny. You opened yourself completely for him to devour all details facts and antics of yours. Your presence filled every room he sat at, listened to whatever he had on his mind, or stayed in a blissful silence if he needed you to

Law had taken notice you were strong and handled yourself in the battlefield just fine, another reason he saw you as one of the most competent strawhats, but even though a lot of people feared you, you remained kind, bright as the morning, soft as the rain, sweet as a grape

You had become Laws favorite sweetener, he became addicted to every inch of you. He’d drink up every look you’d graced his way like neat whiskey, every word like his favorite melody and every touch he wished it to tattoo it on his skin, always waiting for your frame to appear through every door he encountered

But most importantly, you kept telling him to live right

To take down his tall walls, to speak up about the matters that roamed in his mind and heart, to stop indulging in bad sleeping habits and overworking himself to exhaustion, a task no one seemed to fill in his life, he was a Captain after all

There was no shame in being soft, sweet and tender, you always seemed to try and tell him

Yet he wondered how had you managed to keep yourself like that, brightening his and your crews days, after all, life has had its way with you too

And he couldn’t handle it

Who would’ve thought, the surgeon of death feeling threatened by a silly feeling

It ate away at him, the way his heartbeat accelerated whenever you were at least in the same table, his stomach turning at every look he stole whenever you smiled or laughed, or the rosy pigment that painted his features at the mere thought of you

He felt like a deer in headlights. Still Law couldn’t help but to follow you around the Sunny like a stray cat, reaching for you in any situation he was able to keep you closer, craved your presence and to hear your melodic voice ring in his ears, and whenever you said his name? Heaven couldn’t compare

He wondered how fast had this happened, he didn’t notice all the affection he was harboring for you until he couldn’t backtrack, he thanked whatever god was out there that made you so oblivious, it seemed like everyone on the ship noticed the way Law and you glanced at each other and how you would spend your days sitting together in every room but you

But here he is now, under the moonlight staring down at your twinkling eyes that could easily be mistaken for one of the stars above you, his hand traveling to the back of your head before he gives you a look as if asking ‘may I?’ to wish you answer by doing the sweetest thing he could ever thought of

You smile and stand on your tip toes collapsing your lips in his, ending his endless pining as you melt into each other like you were meant to be like this

Trafalgar Law doesn’t get it, when he tastes the sweet sugar of the chocolate drink you had that evening on his lips and doesn’t mind it at all, even if he takes his coffee black every morning

He could even say, he loves it

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

I’ve been listening to Hozier since his debut album I even saw him live and got a shrike tattooed on mu arm OF COURSE I was gonna write this and the first thing that popped into my mind was Law so here you go. Sorry it’s short uni has been eating me alive

#trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar law #trafalgardwaterlaw #trafalgar one piece #trafalgar d law x reader #trafalgar law x y/n #trafalgar law x you #law x reader #law x you #law x y/n #law one piece #one piece x y/n #one piece x you #one piece x reader #trafalgar law one piece #law imagine #trafalgar law imagine #too sweet #hozier #x reader #one piece

[scudslut]

too sweet

daryl x fem!reader

warnings: 18+, mdni

a/n: okay, is this like the song? IDK i listened to it on repeat tryna decipher shit and come up with a good plot but i think i got a little lost in the sauce, or maybe im just being mean to myself🫢 ANYWAY I HOPE YOU LIKE IT ANON BYEEE🤍

you two never got along, never saw eye to eye.

years you’d known each other and all it ever did was reveal those differences all the more. highlighting them in bold letters for you to gaze at thoughtfully, but did that stop you?

it was a game you played, back and forth for so long that it became a routine. bicker and disagree till you were blue in the face and at each other's mercy for only the moon to bear witness too.

how many times had you dug into him for his habits. he smoked, kept to himself, he fought, but where had that ever gotten him? it was against your nature. a way of being that you genuinely could not understand.

and he’d be right there with you, matching each dig with his own. you were sweet, too soft. you pleased and walked among ice like you weighed as much as a feather, so predictable it was almost humorous. if you didn’t understand him, he was absolutely riddled by you.

“how do ya sleep at night? huh? don’ya ever get tired of keeping everyone so fuckin happy?” he’d mutter, all the while tearing articles of clothing off of your supple skin, one by one. skin that was pristine by default and worn as if only heaven itself had touched it.

“believe it or not, i actually want people to like me daryl. i like when i can make people happy. it’s not a fucking act,” you sneer back.

who was he to talk? he lived inside his own head. could go days… no, months by himself, not muttering a single word to a breathing soul. and you’d tried to reason, guide, and help, but if anyone knew daryl dixon, they knew he didn’t budge easily. he had to want it for himself and he simply didn’t see the glory in your people-pleasing nature, as he’d like to call it.

sure he saw the value in it, somewhat. but he liked things the way they were, as they were meant to be. if he disagreed with something he sure as shit wasn’t gonna prance around trying not to hurt no feelings.

“alright, you keep tellin’ yerself that, princess.”

so what was it that kept you two coming back for more? why was the tension and aversion between your minds so magnetic between your bodies? he wanted to snap those annoying, pretty lips shut with his. maybe if he kissed you hard enough something would click in that head of yours. maybe he could fuck some clarity into you.

his fingers would rub fast circles over your clit, watching you keen and moan into the pillow beneath you, “how’s that princess? good enough for ya? hm?” he’d mock, “faster? slower?”

“god, would you shut up already?” you tried to sneer only for it to come out as a breathy whine, adding fuel to his pride and smirk across his face. your lips crashed into his in an attempt to diminish it but it was right there, now pressed up against your face, and fuck, why was that so hot? why was his rugged stubble, his long hair kissing your shoulders, and his broad, strong body so infuriatingly sexy to you? muscles built from years of fights, kills, and hunting. you didn’t like it… but you did.

“fuck, i’m gonna-“ you cried to him softy.

“nuh, uh. not yet pretty girl.”

his belt was loud throughout the quiet room. your eyes were squeezed shut in pleasure but you heard the familiar clanks and zips, and then you felt his weight above you — warm and spicy. it pulled you so far and close that you sucked him in before he even got his pants all the way off.

“fuckin’ christ girl,” he groaned, snapping down to meet your hips flush. it was rapid and hot, both of you pouring all your frustrations into each push and pull. frustrations with each other, frustrations with yourselves that you liked this so fucking much.

he fucked you deep and hard like his body hated you, but somehow kissed you so tenderly through it all. his tongue massaging and tangling with yours as if you created his oxygen for him.

“so fucking sweet, princess, y’know that?” he whispered against you, “no good fer me.”

he was telling himself that; convincing himself and you knew it. your body rolled to meet his quickly, feeling every gooey, warm muscle against your skin and drooling over it, “more.”

as if to prove a point he slowed down, pulling out till just his tip was caught at your entrance, and then would thrust in, hard. over, and over, and over until you were singing his name and muffling it with his neck. warm and spicy.

“ya like that? thought ya wanted faster?”

he knew he was walking a line, but what had you guys ever been but a definitive line? a clear distinction of night and day, the only time ever seeing eye to eye being these moments. as one.

you were sent over the edge instantly, spasms of pleasure rolling languidly through your body. the tight swelling of your cunt causing daryl to finish with you and fuck if he didn’t cum the prettiest, sexiest way you had ever seen. straight out of your dirty, teenage fantasies and above you to soak in while you wreathed along with him.

he groaned and cursed into your chest, riding out each wave until he was shaking above you and so sensitive he couldn’t help but hiss as he pulled away, flopping down beside you.

a cigarette was quickly fished from his strewn jeans pockets and placed between his lips, lighting up and rolling back into the pillows lazily. every ounce of mending and merging you had just done was palpably tossed out the window, your scoff loudly filling the silence.

“that will kill you one day, hope you know that,” you muttered whilst gathering your clothes and slipping them on.

he didn’t bat an eye, nothing he hadn’t heard before from you and honestly, he didn’t really care. plenty of things in the world that’ll kill you, your naivety being one of them.

“lemme guess, gotta be up bright n’ early? tendin’ ta all yer charity cases?” he mused as he watched you head for the door. there had never been a night you’d spent together, probably would end up ripping each others faces off alone in room together for that long.

he didn’t get an answer, just an amused eye roll as you opened his bedroom door, “bye daryl.”

and then you were gone, quiet stomps heard as you floated up the stairs and he knew it would only be a matter of days before you were right back here, glued to his body and singing his name like you needed him to survive.

“figures,” he mumbled, taking a long drag from his smoke and smirking softly to himself.

what’s that saying? opposites always attract?

#daryl dixon #norman reedus #the walking dead #daryl dixon drabbles #daryl dixon smut #daryl imagines #twd drabbles #daryl x reader #fem!reader #daryl dixon x reader #daryl fanfiction #twd daryl #daryl twd #daryl dixon fanfiction #the walking dead daryl #daryl dixion imagine #daryl drabbles #daryl smut #daryl x female reader #daryl x y/n #daryl x you #too sweet #hozier #twd smut #twd daryl dixon #twd #twd fanfiction #Spotify

[neonovember]

OH MY GOD CARMYS GF (READER) GETTING HER FIRST TATTOO AND HIM COMFORTING HER AND HELPING HER TAKE CARE OF IT DURING THE HEALING PROCESS OR WHATEVA‼️💳💥💳💥 IDK I WAS JUST SITTING HERE AND THOUGHT OF IT IF YOU DOJT WANNA WRITE IT THATS OKAY

could even make the tattoo be his name or his initial or somethin 🤯🤯🤭😏

love you and your writing 😚

thanks for keeping us fed 😌

carmen berzatto x reader

okay so yes, maybe hozier has jolted me out of my writers block. i'm just a women after all.

Inked Devotion

this request was fun! i really didn't know what to make the tattoo so i left it a blank slate for whatever you wanna imagine, hope that's okay!

word count: 1.7k

things; tattoos, mentions of braces, carmen's unyielding devotion to you

Your eyes dart across the tall walls lined with inked models and men in dark beards nervously. You can't shake the tension that seems to imprint itself under your skin, your knees jittering with a rapid tap against the linoleum floors. 

When you had brought up wanting to get a tattoo, a half joking mutter under your breath as you traced the many littered on Carmen’s body you hadn’t anticipated to actually go through with it. 

And yet here you were, shaking like a leaf despite the diffuser jutting out whisper of eucalyptus that was meant to be calming. Whilst Monica, a woman you'd meant a handful of times ran through the list of after care necessities you should be listening to.

You can’t though, you don’t hear a thing as you stare unseeingly through the dark auburn tresses of her short hair, wrapped up in the thoughts that have begun to eat away at the already dwindling confidence you had when you first walked in. 

“Hey, you still with me darlin’' Monica's Brooklyn drawl draws you back to her, and you duck your head sheepishly as you nod furiously. Like a goddamn high schooler getting caught looking out the window instead of listening to Hemingway.

Monica smiles toward you, humouring warmth filling her pale skin that, surprising to you, were incredibly stark of tattoos. In fact, if it weren’t for the posters taped to the walls, the black and white tiled floor, and the ominous tattoo bench in the corner you would have thought you walked it not the wrong place. It was stereotypical of you, and you had been a loud advocate for not judging a book by its cover, but goddamn, what tattoo parlour had potted plants and candles that smell like cinnamon?

“Sorry, uh, what did you say?” 

“It’ll be alright, the pain really does depend on each person but Larry here will catch you if you faint on my tattoo bed” Monica winks with a smile, and you shift your gaze to the man stationed unmoving near some marked drawers, the mass of muscle hidden beneath dark jeans and a shirt bursting out of him.

It wasn’t the pain you were worried about, you had period cramps that sounded worse than that, it was more so the prospect of having your virgin skin imprinted with something forever. You had never done something like this, teenage recklessness had passed you by without a blink, and you had little to show for it but carved words on your old dresser from a knife and a dark eyeshadow phase that lasted less than a month. 

It was a little pathetic, getting your first tattoo eons after any respectable age, and your trepidation seems blatantly clear as Monica shakes her head with a smile.

“Many people get their firsts well into adulthood, did I tell you about my last appointment? A 52 year old woman wanting a goddamn tramp stamp.”

You can't help but let a giggle out, the unsureness leaving you at Monica’s words

“You still want this right?’ Monica replies, and you shift your gaze to Carmen, who was already watching you fondly, his eyes sparkling with excitement as he pushes his golden strands back and gives you a nod

“It’s all up yo you gorgeous, if your having second thoughts there is a really good Thai place i wanted to che-” 

“No, no I want this”  You cut him off, and he chuckles softly, “Besides we already designed the stencil and everything” Carmen nods at that, placing his large palm onto your own, squeezing it with reassurance.

“Damn right we did, thinkin it's my best work yet” Monica chirps from the other side of the bed between you.

“Alright, just sit on that bed down there, get settles while I grab some things” 

You nod, walking stiffly towards the leather bed, tissue paper crinkly under your weight as you shift into a comfortable position. Your eyes follow Monica like a laser, watching as she santises her hands and slides on powdered sterile gloves. 

It reminds you of days spent in Dentists chairs, visions of rubbery fingers tightening wires into your teeth flashes behind the darkness of your lids. Funny, you had worried about your lack of experimental youth, and yet here you are now feeling like a kid again.

The thought makes you smile, and you open your eyes to feel the heated gaze of Carmen looming over you. Face distorting in horror when Monica’s tool makes a clatter, eyes widening comically in that way that always makes you laugh.

“Alright Doll, I’m just gonna need you to sit up for me whilst I get the skin prepped. Alcohols gonna feel a little cold to the touch, kay?” Monica says.

All you can do is nod as she rips open the matte packet, pressing it into your open skin shaved clean per her request a few prior. Who knew how much prep a tattoo would need, you were sure it was on par with even one of Carm’s dishes.

Unfortunately for you the only numbing cream useful for tattoos had something that would have made you break out in hives, so it was cold turkey for you. Monica had transformed the design into a stencil, and as she was transferring it into your skin it seemed to come to life all at once. 

You had spent hours going over designs, and whilst you were extremely happy with what you both came up with, it was like when the lines and shapes had traced your skin, you finally saw it. And the moment you did you couldn't stop the wave of emotion that rushed through you, filling your eyes.

“Hey, baby, hey what is it” Carmen rushed urgently, crouching down when he noticed the way you sniffled.

“Awe doll, you don’t like the design? I’ll change it in a flash, this is just the stencil it aint permanent at all” Monica quickly stopped, looking up at you with concern

“No no, I’m fine” You squeezed Carmen “It’s so, it's beautiful Monica” You rushed out, trying to ease the lines of concern that appeared on her face. Monica bloomed at your reply, fondness heating her cheeks as she traced your skin comfortingly.

“Thank you” You whispered to her as she shushed you.

“At least we got the crying bit over and done with, it might hurt less now” She winked, before reaching for her tattoo gun.

“Ah shit” You grunted, shooting daggers Carmen's way when he snorted out loud.

Returning to your skin, Monica pressed the pointed tip of the gun to your skin, the first sink of ink burrowed into your skin causing you to clench your jaw. 

Monica looked up to watch your expression with a smile,

“See, ain't too bad” Carmen replied before you gripped him white knuckled, making him wince regrettably.

It took some time, you won’t lie to yourself that is fucking hurt. But soon enough the sharp stab had resided to a dull ache, and you instead had become all too focused on the movement of Monica's hand swaying through the strokes of the design. 

You were in awe, she breathed her being into it, and as the design took inches and inches of your skin you understood why she was booked out for months. With one last intricate curl, and a wipe of cleansing soap across the inked skin it was finished. Revealed to both you and Carmen's eyes in all its glory, and you both just stared.

“God, now I wish my first was as good as that instead of wonky stick and poke” Carmen said after a pregnant silence had passed.

“It..wow, yeah. Yep, I want to be buried with this” You said softly, giddiness erupting in your body as you shook your hand grasped in Carmens.

“I’m glad doll, I mean this is meant to be professional but goddamn does your skin just take it. Fuckin’ gorgeous” Monica replied, leaning back as she places the gun on the table near.

“Hey, I'll report you to HR” Carmen bitterly replies, moving you closer to his side as you laugh.

“It’s my business, I am HR” Muttering under her breath as she rolls her eyes. Wrapping your skin in adhesive sheets, Monica repeats the after care instructions, thankfully and this time you listen.

Carmen had already grabbed your things, motioning for you to start heading out after you both furiously thanked Monica for everything. You crinkled with joy as she hugged you, breathing in the smell of old spice and medical grade rubbing alcohol that followed her. 

Her studded rings glistened in the afternoon sun as she waved you both goodbye, as you couldn't help but skip in your stride across the sidewalk. Finger tracing the raised blotted skin, whilst your other hand hung onto Carmen as he twirled you around.

“My gorgeous ink stained sweetheart” Carmen called to you, and you were brought back to his chest gently like a tide again.

“Thank you too, you know” You said into Carmen's cotton shirt. It was the one you got him after your first date, it had been a deep cobalt then. You regretted it just as you gave it to him, fearing you were being too forward. And then he wore it until it faded into a light blue.

“Wouldn't even have this forever on me if you hadn't been the one to bring it up again” You replied softly, fingers tracing his jaw.

“Would have spent a year learning how to tattoo myself if you wanted me too. Monica just seemed quicker” Carmen mumbled before you softly hit his chest with a smile.

“Hey, it’s true. Your skin deserves to be remembered, I could trace it till my fingers atrophied and I’d still have the memory of you under my skin memorised” Carmen divulged, eyelids drooping as he leaned down into your embrace. 

You shake your head, heart panging so deeply it hurt till you pressed your lips to his. Tasting the outpour of Carmen that he let loose into you everyday.

And Carmen had stayed true to his words weeks later when it had healed, tracing it till his fingers weren't enough. Till he had to wrap his mouth around it and taste it with his tongue.

He swears even your inked skin tasted sweet.

tags <3 @parmforcarm @hansfics @kpopgirlbtssvt @nolita-fairytale

#neonovember #carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto imagine #carmen berzatto fluff #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x fem!reader #carmen berzatto x fem reader #carmen berzatto x you #carmen berzatto x y/n #carmy #the bear #the bear fx #carmy berzatto #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy the bear #carmy berzatto x fem!reader #carmen berzatto x black!reader #neo writes #carmen berzatto masterlist #off the goddamn hiatus #bear with me whilst i get through the carmen requests #hozier #hozier just cause #carmy berzatto fluff #carmy berzatto masterlist

[mysunshinetemptress]

I’ll crawl home to her

Alessia Russo x singer!reader

Warnings: robbed vows from fluffy fluff

You were sat in your studio sighing as the blank page in-front of you began taunting you, the hours seemed to tick by. The clocks ticking metronome played in your head as you cursed yourself for not bing able to think of words that described the feelings swirling around your stomach and for a moment you thought would words ever be able to describe the feeling you had for your soon to be wife.

Alessia Russo was a girl you had known for many years and loved for many more and come 2 pm tomorrow you would be able to love forever and a day. Alessia had begged and begged for you both to incorporate vows into the ceremony and you stupidly thought that being a singer/songwriter it would come naturally to you yet here you were six hours until your mother would be banging on your door to get you up and ready and no vows had made their way on to the blank page.

You threw the pencil across the room before resting your head in your hands, your fingers tapping to the beat of the clock before looking up and sighing, the clock seemed to beat a second faster then usual and you shook your head as you tried to regain your focus on the task at hand only the little voice in the back of your head wouldn't shut up and you found yourself picking up your guitar tapping your foot in time to the clock you began strumming different chords trying to figure out the tune to whatever vision was filling your head. Slowly you moved from the guitar to the mixing table in your small home studio and began lining everything up before heading back over to your guitar picking it up and laying down the base chords for the song that had began playing in your head.

You were now stood at the top of the alter talking to Gio and Luca as they took up their roles of being your best men, being an only child and one of divorce left you lonely as a child, that was until a certain half Italian blonde footballer socked a ball right at your head and suddenly you had two brothers like you once wished for and a girl who found you at one of your darkest moments in life and some how showed you the light. You felt your breath hitch as the opening chords for hear comes the bride began on the organ as you turned finally looking at the many guests that had arrived, Alessia's side so full they seemed to spill into your side but you couldn't help but smile at your now mutual friends Mary sending you a thumbs up mouthing you've got this sat beside the rest of the lioness squad as you waved at all of them laughing as they waved excitedly back, before you turned to see Ella walking down the aisle smiling at her softly before your eyes were pulled to the blonde girl walking down behind her. Your eyes pricked with tears as you felt your lower lip wobble emotions began taking over as you felt to pairs of hands grab your should squeezing them. Your eyesight began to cloud with tears as Alessia approached pulling your hands to your face you tried desperately to wipe the falling tears stopping when you felt a soft hand grab your cheek, shaking your head you relaxed as Alessia pulled you into her body your head falling into the crook of her neck "Oh amore mia" you tried shaking your head softly kissing her neck as you pulled your head back from her "Im ok, I'm ok, sorry your just so gorgeous and I can't believe I'm marrying you but please promise me if this is a dream you won't wake me up." Alessia laughed stroking her thumb over your cheek "Its not a dream amore but I promise." you let out a breath turning to look at your guests "Sorry, but if you were marrying someone as amazing as her you would cry too" the church erupted in laughter, Alessia squeezing your hand softly as you nodded to the priest to begin.

You had both spent the ceremony hands locked together constantly sending soft squeezes here and there allowing the other to know you where ok. "Now the couple will read out their wedding vows." Alessia looked back at Ella as she passed her the card sighing she realised your hand before starting to speak "Y/n, amore mia, I promised you all those many years ago to be your guiding light in the darkness, here in-front of our friends and family I vow that to you again for you are the luce della mia vita when we were younger you told me give me your hand and i'll give you forever and today I vow to hold on to that hand forever and a day, quanto sono fortunato a chiamarti mia.” You felt your eyes prick with tears once more “oh Tesoro mia.” You let out a small sorry shaking your head before grabbing her hand “my Less, without you I am nothing and with you I am some how more then myself, I love you more then any metaphor can ever express, today is the day we get to start forever and although I can not promise you forever I can promise you that when death does take my hand, I will hold you with the other and promise to find you in every lifetime after” Alessia couldn’t help but let out a soft whimper trying not to cry “Do you Alessia Mia Teresa Russo take Y/n Y/L/n to be your lawfully wedded wife.” Alessia smiled happily at you “I do.” “And Y/n Y/m Y/l/n do you take Alessia Mia Teresa Russo to be your lawfully wedded wife” you pulled Alessia impossibly closer “I do.” The priest laughed at the excitement across both your faces “well then by the power vested in me you may now kiss your wife.” Pulling her face towards yours you spun Alessia dipping her lightly before passionately kissing her “ti amoe amore mia.”

You smiled looking around the sold out stadium as sweat caused your hear to stick to your forehead before strumming the guitar walking up to the microphone “Hi Wembly.” The crowd seemed to roar louder than before “I got one more song if you have time.” Once again they cheered as you strung out a few chords turning to look at the royal box “so for those of you who don’t know, I’m married.” You held up your left hand showing off your engagement and wedding rings “yep exactly.” You laughed at the cheers “to the most incredible woman, La mia luce guida.” You smiled at the royal box “hi mia ragazza dagli occhi azzurri.” You strummed the opening chords of the song you were about to play “at our wedding we wrote vows to one another and I’m only admitting this now but, I wrote mine the night before.” The crowd let out a laugh as you felt your cheeks redden “I couldn’t find the words to express how much I love her then, my girl I mean she’s my guiding light through my darkest days and so.” You looked back at the royal box smiling “so I procrastinated and I wrote this song that very night too and I’m going to play it for you here tonight for the first time.” The crowd let out a roar as you smiled eyes squinting as you searched for Alessia “words still aren’t enough to properly describe how much I love you but one thing I have told you before, that I speak about in this song is that not even death will be able to keep me from you in this life and all the rest to come I’m yours.” You smiled as you caught sight of your friends and family in the box, Alessia’s teammates shaking her gently at your words as she held her arms wrapped around your mum who from where you were standing both looked to be crying “so lessi .” You began strumming lightly again as your band began to count themselves in “no grave can hold my body down I’ll crawl home to you.” With that your band began playing and you sang the song you had written the night you had written your vows and all over again Alessia fell in love with you.

#awfc #woso #woso fanfics #woso one shot #woso imagine #woso blurbs #woso community #woso soccer #woso couples #woso x reader #alessia russo x y/n #alessia russo x you #alessia russo x reader #alessia russo #hozier #work song

[specialbrewbutterbeer]

Too Sweet For Me (Sirius Black x Reader Imagine)

AN: It's been forever but I need a creative outlet so I'm back! This was just a short one to get back into it- please do lmk what you think and give me some ideas!

REQUESTS

MASTERLIST

"Baby-"

Her soft little hand slipped across his skin, across the hills and valleys of his tattooed ribcage and then his hip before coming to rest on his thigh.

Her hands were warm, perfectly manicured nails, painted a pale satiny pink.

The very tips of her fingers pressed dimples into his skin and her eyes fluttered and flickered as they drifted over him as he lay there, just stirring at her touch.

He lay exposed on their bed, crumpled sheets kicked to the side and streamers of cool morning light, flecked with swirling dust, illuminated him.

He twisted and his hands naturally moved to her.

He didn't care what part they landed on, as long as they landed on her. His big roughed hands, cracked and stiff, they just wanted to touch her skin. It was soft and looked like smooth polished stone. There wasn't a sharp angle anywhere on her, as he looked at her.

She was all soft edges and curves.

A little smirk hit his lips, even though he could barely see through his blurry eyes.

He pulled himself up a little, squeezed her thigh, where his hand had ended up and whispered in a slightly groggy voice.

"Darling."

"Coffee?" She tilted her head a little and pressed a mug forward toward him.

By now she was sat up on her knees on the bed, and smiling, her hair loose and a little falling in her face.

He nodded and took it from her, looking down into the mug, it was the normal deep golden he was used to.

"Thank you." He spoke and she brushed her knuckles against his cheek affectionately, a soft smile gracing her own baby pink lips.

She leant to the nightstand and took up her own drink, swirled with honey and a creamy fawny colour. She took a deep sip from the cup and closed her eyes as he watched just in awe of his lady.

Steam from her cup veiled her face just slightly, dancing in the sun as it glossed her pretty features, swirling about up to her ears.

She was the kind of girl who liked the morning air, tied her hair with pink silk ribbon and who blushed easily.

He loved feeling the heat in her cheeks, pressing his palm against them and making her shy- though they had known eachother so long, and she was currently contentedly sat before him, baring every inch of her skin to him.

Sirius took a mouthful of his own drink, before placing it on the nightstand, and gently prying hers from her hands and replacing it too.

He then pressed forward, eyes closed, leaning into her, placing his lips against her breast and trailing up towards her collar bone. His hands found their way to her hip and behind her neck.

He breathed in as he felt her heartbeat under his lips and she smelled of vanilla and candied fruit.

It was addictive.

His hand pushed up and into her hair and he let his weight lead her to lay back.

She wrapped her arms around him, let her hands wander across his broad and muscular back.

She smiled and nuzzled into him.

He smelled like tobacco.

"You're too sweet for me." He whispered. She shook her head.

#sirius black x reader #sirius x reader #sirius #sirius black #sirius orion black #marauders x y/n #marauders x you #marauders x reader #marauders era #hozier

[mcondance]

MDNI 18+

spencer kisses so hungrily it’s beyond you to try to understand. he kisses with intents to devour, to consume and partake until you’re both gasping for air and going back in anyway. he kisses overbearingly deep, mouth slipping over yours with misplaced spit and swollen lips and a laving tongue. his hands are on the sides of your face the moment his lips are on yours, another aching urge to be one, to consume until you don’t know where he begins and you end.

#happy easter #hozier reference? yes #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x black reader #spencer reid x black!reader #— 🎠

[padfootagain]

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

[imthebadguyyy]

Arms

pairing : sirius black x reader

fandom : marauders/hp

synopsis : sirius realizes there's no place that feels more like home than your arms.

warnings : self depreciating thoughts, insecurity

a/n : felt like wandering into the realm of the marauders! do let me know if you want more :) inspired mildly by francesca by Hozier

sirius sat with james, while remus and peter sat across from them, both pouring liberal amounts of gravy onto their plates. james was also digging into an obnoxiously large amount of roast potatoes and chicken, barely pausing for a breath as he scarfed down the food.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

the great hall was not buzzing with the sound of students chattering as it usually did, and the sound remained at the decibel of a small hive of bees, while the professors murmured softly at the grand table, the munch of the many treats laid on the table for the christmas eve dinner.

sirius himself didn't feel that hungry, fork half heartedly poking at the beans on his plate. his eyes roamed around the hall, taking in the tiny mass of people at the other tables, and at dumbledore pulling mice out of his purple witches hat - his christmas special.

that very morning, his owl had dropped off a rather nasty howler from his darling mother, once again choosing to call him a colourful variety of insults and ending with her usual "disgrace and traitor to the black boodline" bullshit, followed by a chorus of "mixing with mudbloods and muggles" that had him clenching his fists in frustration.

then, his father orion had also decided to grace him with a scathing letter he burned the moment he received, but not before catching the words "shame to my bloodline", which once again had him sighing and rubbing the sore spot on his temples.

he had ignored it initially, focusing instead on the beautiful hand knitted scarf, golden watch and basket of sweets and treats he had received from euphemia and fleamont, with a small engraved gryffindor lion at the back of the watch.

he had also received a leather jacket from you, and homemade strawberry pies that you had made with help from the elves in the kitchen, and a set of silver rings to go with his pre existing ones.

remus had gifted him a muggle record called rumors from a band called Fleetwood Mac, that you had freaked out over and told him you'd listen to together because they were your favourite band ever and you'd be damned if he discovered your favourites on the album without you.

james himself had bought him bundles full off tricks and games from hogsmeade, and a framed picture of the marauders, along with a small replica of his own quidditch jersey because, "everyone has to know you're my number one fan pads!"

even marlene had gifted him a bunch of chocolate frogs, and mary had got him a postcard from venezuela and chocolate because her parents were visiting. lily had sent him muggle posters of his favorite bands as well.

but despite the merriment, the niggling insecurity of not being enough played on his mind the whole time, creeping like a shadow, insecurity slithering through the corridors of his mind, casting doubts where there once was light.

his mind was spiralling, as he looked at his plate, gulping as a sudden lump appeared in his throat. james was reading a letter from his mum to remus and peter, telling him about their travels in egypt, and peters mum had sent sweets for them to share at dinner.

oh how he longed for a mom who would write him sweet letters and send him sugary treats instead of venom coated words and flame bursting letters, a father who would teach him how to tie his tie properly for class, or tell him tales of his childhood.

sirius longed for a family to love and hold him always. and the closest he had to that was you and james.

as his thoughts turned to you, he was distracted by a sudden crash as the doors were flung open, as you rushed in, followed by the two friends with whom you sang as part of the hogwarts band, your red robes flaring as you rushed to find your spot beside him at the table.

with a pant, you flung yourself down, taking heaving breaths to calm your racing heart.

"well hello little miss" james said through a mouthful of peas, making you scrunch your nose in disapproval. "where were ya?" remus asked, piling on food onto your plate before it changed course.

"i was at band practice! we just lost track of time and then had to rush because we were so hungry!" you exclaimed, while your hands reached for sirius' under the table, taking his cold palm in yours, squeezing it tenderly to get the blood flow back in them, bringing it up for a quick peck to the knuckles before interlacing his fingers with yours.

sirius felt his heart physically slow down as he watched you, laughing a joke remus made, poking fun at james and messing around with peter. he watched as you cut the roasted potatoes into smaller chunks, dipping them in extra butter as you popped them into your mouth, and the way your eyes sparkled when you smiled.

he watched the way your hair fell, little strands framing your face as you brushed them off impatiently, all while leaning forward for a slice of a chocolate tart and icecream that had just appeared.

he watched as you put a slice of apple pie on his plate, topping it with a healthy dollop of cream, and passing it to him with a saccharine sweet smile and a murmur of "your favourite siri!" and he felt his heart flutter again.

what he didn't note was the crease in your eyebrow as you looked at your friend, the darl circles under his eyes, the slight stoop to his posture, the way his smile came out forced, lips pressed tight together with none of his gorgeous smile lines appearing around his eyes and lips.

he failed to note the way you drew a sharp breath when you felt the rough skin of his palms, coarse from all the times he dug his nails into the delicate skin to control the rage and hurt he felt at his family. the way your eyes softened as you looked at him, the way his lack of obnoxiously lewd jokes and quick wit made him look so vulnerable that it shattered your heart into a million pieces.

after the crackers were pulled and you had packed up a "grow your own warts" kit and many a butterbeer flavoured candy and a few white mice, he squeezed your hand again, gesturing towards the gryffindor common room, leaving the boys chatting with a few members of the ravenclaw quidditch team who had stayed back for christmas as well.

murmuring the password to the fat lady, you stumbled into the common room with sirius, who had his arm wrapped tightly around your waist. you sunk into your favourite armchair, and giggled when sirius fell into you with a muffled "thump"

even though you were 'just friends', you knew him better than anyone else and he knew it as well as you did.

the cozy red armchair with its plush cushioning looked as inviting as ever as he settled into it, legs haphazardly tossed over yours. affection was a major part of your relationship with sirius, having become fast friends since the first year at hogwarts.

ever since you were joint at the hip, bonding over a shared love of music, shared comfort in silence, shared trauma and a love for leather. you were as much a part of the marauders as any of the other boys, and sirius couldn't quite point to the time when you had become such fast friends.

he buried his head into the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply, absorbing the lilting notes of vanilla and shea, and fiddling with the loose strands of hair at the base of your neck. you hummed softly, some melody that had been playing on your mind, hands gently running through his dark locks, nails scratching softly at his scalp.

"you okay?" you asked, noting the tenseness of his shoulder muscles, and the still present frown between his eyebrows.

a non commital shrug was the only response.

worry began to seep into your mind, surprised at how your usually bubbly bestfriend was decidedly unbubbly.

"you don't seem okay babe" you stated, lifting his chin so he was looking at you.

his stormy gray eyes reflected doubt and insecurity dancing like lightning, casting shadows of uncertainty that loomed deep in his mind.

to your surprise, tears welled up in his eyes, mirroring raindrops, poignant with a tempest of emotions swirling within, creating a tumultuous scene of vulnerability and insecurity.

"oh sweetheart.." you cooed softly, shuffling so he was engulfed in your arms. you felt him bury his face deeper into your neck, clinging to you desperately as if he was worried you'd disappear into thin air.

"talk to me honey" you whispered, trying to coax him out of his hiding place.

just as he opened his mouth to speak, the door to the common room swung open and remus james and peter trooped in, followed by a few other gryffindors.

they stopped short, taking in the scene before them, their best mate in tears in the arms of the girl he loved who happened to be his best friend.

"mate are you-" james began, only to be cut off by a glare from remus.

"who don't you go up to our dorm y/n? I'll make sure no one goes up" remus said, staring at your pointedly, offering a soft smile to you when you nodded.

"i think we'll take you up on the offer, is that okay with you siri?" you asked, still softly stroking his hair.

he nodded against you, and followed you silently as you took his hand in yours and draped an arm around his torso, pressing a kiss to his temple as you led him up the winding staircase to the boys dormitory.

as soon as you were inside, you led him over to his bed, gently pushing him down so he was sitting, eyes looking unseeingly at the posters and polaroids that graced his headboard.

with worried eyes, you watched his gaze flicker back and forth, trying to fight back the tears that threatened to spill over.

"talk to me siri, im right here" you cooed, kneeling down in front of him, hands resting on his knees, drawing tiny circles with your pinky over the material of his robes.

"are you here with me love?" you asked, watching the black in his pupils darken as he spaced out. you watched as he jolted a little, looking at you almost alarmed, before the tears began to drip down his cheeks.

the first drop had you sprinting into his arms, wrapping your own tightly around him, kicking your shoes off as you squeezed him tight, knees resting in between his own, as he sobbed into your chest.

you'd seen him cry before, but never like this. broken sobs spilled from his salty lips, dampening the material of your robes, and small choked sounds escaped his lips, along with deep strangled breaths as he gripped your waist to keep himself grounded.

he cried for what seemed like hours while you whispered sweet reassurances to him, kissing his cheeks, his nose, his forehead and his hands, placing his hand on your chest to feel the steady beating of your heart.

"m' right here darling, let it all go, I've got you, i promise, I'll be right here to hold you honey" you whispered to him, rocking him back and forth like a child.

sirius gripped you even tighter, clinging to you as if you were his lifeline.

eventually, his sobs slowed,and he pulled back, eyes red and swollen and face glistening with tears. even when his hair was messy and he looked like a wreck, he looked ethereal.

"oh my beautiful boy" you said, kissing the top of his head. "tell me what you need" you said, interlacing your hands.

"you, just need you" he said, and the way his broke on the word 'you' shattered your heart into a million pieces.

"just give me one second darling, okay?" you said, walking into their bathroom and taking out a clean handkerchief from your pocket. you soaked it in some water, bringing it back to him, gently wiping his eyes and then his face with it, leaving kisses on every spot you cleaned for him, before taking a comb from his nightstand and slowly untangling the mess that his hair was.

sirius watched as you combed his hair, eyebrows furrowed in attention, and he swore his heart fell even more for you.

"d'ya think you can tell me what's wrong sugar?" you asked, biting you lip when he flashed you a smile at the nickname.

"yeah" he nodded, tugging you down so you were cuddled into his side. "oh wait!" you exclaimed, fishing some chocolate out your pocket and offering a piece.

he took it with a smile, letting it melt on his tongue as he looked at you.

you were now snuggled into his shoulder, your ankle intertwined with his as you lay across from him, hand gently holding his, as his other hand traced patterns on your hip.

"darling mother of mine sent me a howler this morning for a christmas present" he said with a dry chuckle.

"did she now?" you said, anger simmering deep in your bones. "yeah, and then sperm donator sent me a lovely letter as well" he said, chuckling a little at his own nickname for his father.

"mmhmm" you said, tracing his thumb.

"yeah, jus' caught me off guard" he mumbled

"you do know that whatever they say is not true, right?" you asked, looking straight into his eyes.

"yeah but- fuck, darling, it gets hard sometimes. sometimes I feel like I am a traitor and failure. sometimes i feel like I'm not worthy of being a human, I'm not worthy of being a friend, I'm not worthy of being loved i-" he broke off, looking at the ceiling.

"you are more than just a name, sirius. you are worthy of being loved. you are worthy of being human, and you are worthy enough to have friends who care about you" you said firmly, forcing him to look back at you.

"it just hurts me sometimes" he admitted

"i know sweetheart" you cooed again. you felt like no words you said were enough when it came to this topic.

"am i really worthy of being loved?" he asked suddenly, turning his face to look at you.

"of course" you said. the silence got louder for a moment. "siri?" you asked, voice lighter than honeycomb.

"theres something Ive been wanting to tell you" he got out in a rush. "ever since we met on the train on our way here, from the tender age of eleven, my heart silently declared its allegiance to you. each passing day has been a testament to a love that started as a whisper and has grown into a resounding echo in my soul. darling, with every sunrise and every moonlit night, my affection for you deepens, as if there's an infinite well within me, filling with the boundless affection i hold for you. you are the constant melody in the symphony of my existence, and i fall harder for you with each beat of my heart" he said, turning to look at you.

you felt tears welling in your own eyes, and it only felt right when you leaned forward, pressing your soft lips to his slightly chapped ones.

to him, you tasted of strawberries and cocoa, warm and sweet and oh so extravagant, a taste so luxurious he couldn't get enough of it.

to you, he tasted of cigarette smoke, mint and cocoa, an intoxicating taste you couldn't get enough of

his lips pressed deeper against yours, hand grasping your waist tightly, pulling you flush against him, as he poured all his love and passion out for you.

time stopped, the world slowed and your heartbeat dropped to the lowest of lows. relaxed. calm. loved.

finally, when your lungs began to burn from the lack of oxygen, you drew away, chests heaving as you looked at each other.

a slight flush lay on his cheeks, tinges of red littering his cheekbones. you could feel a heat thrumming in your own cheeks, and your heart felt like it was racing a million miles an hour.

"i don't know how long I've waited to say that to you" he breathed out, nuzzling his nose to yours.

"since our shared days at eleven, my heart has been a clandestine haven for the enchantment you brought into my life. you don't know how happy you made me with this. in the quiet dance of our days, my affection for you has blossomed into a resplendent garden, and with every sunrise, I find myself immersed deeper in the captivating allure of our love. you are the symphony that resonates in my heart, and i cherish you always" you told him, pressing a kiss to the swell of his cheekbone.

sirius felt his cheeks burn a deep red, and he tilted your lips up to press a searing kiss to them again.

"i love you" he gasped against your lips, drawing you closer to him.

"i love you too" you murmured against his lips moulding your body to him.

and as sirius lay there in your arms, pressing kisses as sweer and delicate as spun sugar against every part of your body but especially your lips, he realised there was no other place that felt more like home than your arms.

you.

you were his home.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

a/n : I've missed writing so much!! i really hope you enjoy this, and as always likes reblogs comments opinions etc are appreciated!! sending u all love and happiness and remember, my inbox is always open and i love making new friends!! marauders is a new field for me but if u have any reqs/ideas please do send in asks! happy reading ☺️♥️

TAGS

general : @roslastyles420 @hopeful in love @bluesongbird

TO BE ADDED TO THE TAGLIST SEND ME AN ASK OR A DM SPECIFYING WHICH FANDOM ❤️

#sirius black #sirius black x reader #sirius black x you #marauders #marauders imagine #marauders imagines #marauders x reader #marauders x y/n #harry potter #hp #sirius orion black #sirius x reader #hozier #gary oldman #ben barnes #harry potter fanfiction #marauders fanfiction #hp universe #marauders x you #marauders x oc

[crow-raven-crow]

would you write something with the song “take me to church* from hozier, between reader and larissa?🤍

𝐈'𝐥𝐥 𝐓𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐌𝐲 𝐒𝐢𝐧𝐬, 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐂𝐚𝐧 𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐩𝐞𝐧 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐊𝐧𝐢𝐟𝐞

𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭 - [𝐧𝐬𝐟𝐰 𝟏𝟖+]

✧･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧ :══════⊹⊹══════: ✧･ﾟ｡˚☾.･✧

Larissa Weems x Outcast f!reader words: ~2.3k 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬/𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: LYRIC FIC, angst, fluff, nsfw: dom!Larissa, sub!Reader, marking, scratching, reader receiving, homophobia, description of anxiety, injury, blood, parental abuse, good ending (depending how you look at it)

summer: see above

masterlist

AO3 link in title ✧･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧ :══════⊹⊹══════: ✧･ﾟ｡˚☾.･✧

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𝐚/𝐧: I HAVE BEEN BEGGING FOR THE FREE TIME TO WRITE THIS ONEEEEEE!! Hozier is definately someone that I want to get into more and this has given me that opportunity hehe. If you follow me on other socials, you'll know that I'm actually seeing him in concert in november with dog and bug - im so fucking excited. Lyrics are jumbled but in order of the song. Enjoy x

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Larissa pressed you against the soft cushions of your living room couch, her body fitting perfectly with yours as she rested between your thighs. A cold chill ran against your skin as soft, gentle hands explored the canvas you pushed forward, tracing over every dip, every scratch, every smooth expanse that your body had to offer. Her hand wrapped around you, your back arching as she pulled you up and consumed you with her touch.

If the Heavens ever did speak..

Her lips trailed down your jawline, starved kisses making their claim against the beautiful skin that housed your sinful soul. A whimper left your throat as her tongue met your pulse point, flattening and licking a long stripe up to your ear. Her voice was low as she spoke, a deep rumble in her chest projecting itself into desire dripping with lust. "Don't hide those delicious sounds from me, my darling.."

She's the last true mouthpiece..

Her hands traveled down your sides, tracing her fingertips down to your thighs as goosebumps were left in their wake. Her lips made their way down, down, down, her hot breath igniting a wave of electricity to shoot down to your core. Her tongue swiped over your right bud, swirling around the sensitive skin before capturing it in her mouth. An unadulterated moan left your lips as she sucked, your back arching into her ministrations as one of her hands toyed with the other.

The only Heaven I'll be sent to..

She gave the other bud the same amount of attention, pulling back after and admiring just how delectable you looked underneath her. A deep blush covered your features as your chest heaved, your eyes were dark and full of lust, full of want, full of the need to have her take all of you. She traced her fingers lightly along all the marks that were littered against your skin, appreciating them as though they were the most beautiful pieces of art that she'd ever made.

Is when I'm alone with you..

"Please.." The word left your lips weakly, merely above a whisper and contrasting the fire that burned within your lungs. It spurred her on, causing a sinister smirk to rise on her lips as she lowered her head between your thighs, facing where you needed her the most. Her lips ghosted along your inner thighs, your heart jumping to your throat as the need for her grew by the second. She placed kisses against your core, letting out a hum as the juices that managed to spill out made a presence against her lips. Her tongue ran through your folds, your nails sweetly digging into her shoulders as her tongue met your bundle of nerves.

Command me to be well..

The sounds she was capable of forcing out of your throat were sinful, and it was then that you realized how lucky you were to worship a goddess as unholy as her. Your back arched as she sucked your clit, the sensation coursing through your body and tearing a broken moan from your lungs. Her fingers teased your entrance, collecting your juices like a nectar before easily slipping into your core.

I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies..

Your eyes fluttered shut as ecstasy took hold of your being, taking you in its corrupted grip as you begged to see stars. Her nails dug into your thigh, eliciting a hiss from you as the succulent pain kept you in the moment, kept you in the pleasure, kept you with her. A warmth slowly consumed your being, spreading to all ends of your soul and building you up with each curl of her fingers.

Her speed quickened as you got lost in the pleasure she provided you, the sight before her becoming an addiction she would dive into time and time again. Your body looked intoxicating under her touch as her limbs fit perfectly with yours. She continued a ruthless pace, pulling her name out from you in moans and whimpers and she built you to the wonderful edge. Your peak quickly approached, the pleasure slamming into you as your mind got lost in it, the entirety of reality fading away. Your body shook as you came, your mere existence being overcasted by the pure bliss that rippled through you.

I'll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife..

A loud knock at the front door stole you from the hold of ecstasy, another set of knocks following and making you sober up. You both rushed to gather your clothes, picking everything up and becoming presentable before peeking through the blinds to see who still stood behind it, not knowing who would come up as you took the two of your to visit your hometown. All had gone well so far, though.. you were just forced to face the inevitable, the sight causing your heart dropping to your feet and your blood slow in your veins.

Offer me that deathless death..

Your parents stood behind the door, the tension building itself and closing up your throat at the thought that the only thing keeping you separated was a piece of wood. Your relationship with them wasn't the best and you were hoping that they wouldn't catch wind of you being there, let alone catch you with your lover. You turned to Larissa as panic rushed through your veins.

"You-" You cupped her face in your hands, gently rubbing your thumbs across her cheeks. Tears threatened to fall from your eyes as every horrible thing they used to do to you came flooding back. They would never accept you, and if they saw this? You were sure you wouldn't see the light of day again. "You need to go.. please.."

Good God, let me give you my life..

A wave of confusion consumed her, the worry in your features stilling her blood as she realized exactly what you meant. "I- No. I can't leave you with them-"

"They'll kill you-"

"They'll kill you!"

A silence filled the room, and you hoped for everything wrong to fade from existence as you looked into her eyes. They were so full of concern, so scared for what would happen, so scared to leave you. "Meet me at the spot by the river.. I promise, Larissa.. I'll be there. Please.."

The moment in which she realized she didn't have a choice settled in her bones and made her soul feel heavy. Another set of knocks echoed off the walls of your found sanctuary, pushing reality, pushing dread, pushing hate to the forefront of your minds. You led her to the backdoor, urging her to get there safely as she slowly disappeared from your view.

My lover's the sunlight..

You'd do anything to protect her, especially from the entities that stood just a few feet away. Your hand grasped the doorknob, everything stilling as you turned and opened the door. "Oh! Hi.. Sorry, I was-"

They pushed themselves in, forcing their existence in your temporary home, sucking the safety out of it as they walked deeper into the house. Your father spoke, his voice never straying far from demanding."Why didn't you tell us you were here?"

She demands a sacrifice..

They settled around the kitchen island, your mom placing her bag down as your dad leaned against the countertop, both facing you and demanding explanations in the end.

"I'm here for work-"

"Bullshit," your mom spat out, venom lacing her voice. "No one would come to a small town like this just for work."

"You'd actually be surprised.." You trailed off as you rested against the opposite counter, never making the mistake of not facing them while speaking again. You had done so once, and the aftermath was nothing less than swollen. "There's a lot you can do with the outcast-"

"You're still on about that? When are you gonna move on from them?"

"Maybe the day I become a normie.."

Your head was harshly turned to the side as a solid smack made way against your cheek, the familiar feeling of your fathers ring slicing up the skin and allowing a burn to settle there. You rose a hand to your cheek, touching lightly before wincing, a warm feeling soaking into your fingerprints. You didn't even need to look to know what had happened.

Something meaty for the main course..

"You are not different, y/n! Do you hear me?" Your fathers voice boomed through the kitchen, successfully stealing the breath from your lungs as your eyes shut in fear. Your hands trembled and you gripped the edge of the counter behind you to ground yourself, before looking into his eyes for what felt like the first time in your life.

"I'm done being erased by you.." Your voice was weak, lost somewhere in your throat but was pushed out by the feeling of finally being able to be yourself, the feeling of finally being able to live with Larissa, to truly live with her. "You've taken too much from me, and I want it back."

Confidence brought your posture up, your soul projecting itself to stand your ground. Laughs were reflected back at you, forcing anger through your veins as each one escaped their throat. Your stance wavered, and your mother took the opportunity to grip you by the collar of your shit, bringing you the closest to her that you've been in years.

She took you in, took in the fire that burned behind your eyes, took in the dread that coursed through your veins, took in the way that you didn't back down this time.. Her eyes scanned along your features, landing at the base of your neck that was now exposed to her. "You're here with a woman!"

That looks tasty..

Another hard smack landed on your face, making pain radiate against your cheekbone. You took in a breath, shaking it in your throat before it settled in your lungs. Your eyes were trained down to her feet, and you knew there was nothing you could say.. She'd seen the marks..

That looks plenty..

"I didn't want-" You were cut off by another one, this time being shoved against the counter behind you and forced to look into her eyes. Your head throbbed as the room spun every so slightly.

"You have no right to speak.. You have no right to be part of this family." She paused, allowing her words to situate themselves in your ears.

This is hungry work..

"I never was-" The last one to every grace you was planted against your skin. Your soul screamed with the knowledge, but your body wildly contrasted the feeling as tears streamed down your face, the salt burning the open wound before you shot your gaze up to your mother.

"Leave."

Take me to church..

You walked forward, pressing her against the other counter before clawing her hands off you. The action shocked them both, and it was then that your parents realized that they no longer had you under their control - you worshipped one goddess, and it was your goal to get back to her.

"Y/n.. wait.. we only-"

"Leave! You said it yourself. I'm not part of this family, and I'm enacting that statement now. Get out of my house."

You forced them out the door, grabbing them by the arms and shoving them out, causing them to trip over their own feet as the door slammed behind them - the image of who they were in your life quickly slipping away as a fresh breath filled your lungs.

You ran through the house, from the front door to the back one and jumped past the steps. You needed to get back to her.

Only then I am human..

Your feet met the hard ground beneath you, rocks and leaves getting blown away with the urgency found within your steps. The cool air filled your lungs, a burning feeling making way to your throat with every breath. You stopped at the top of the hill, taking in the sight in front of you as you took a moment to catch your breath.

Only then I am clean..

The sun was setting, casting the valley in a golden glow, your lover stood at the edge of the river, the rushing water filling your ears as you watched her run her hands through the clear liquid, her hair glowed along with the light, and her features ran soft even though there was a filter of worry that overcasted them.

You made your way over to her, the shuffling of your body causing her to shoot her gaze in your direction. A bright smile met her lips as she stood up and rushed over to you, soon being overshadowed in the worry that quickly consumed her.

Amen, Amen, Amen

She cupped your face gently, taking in the intensity of your wound as you watched her eyes scan over every aspect of your face. "How-"

"They're not going to bother us anymore.." You sunk into her touch, pressing the uninjured side your face against her palm as you closed your eyes, your hands shooting up to hold hers as your thumbs rubbed against her knuckles.

You were quickly consumed into a soul crushing hug, the air knocking out of your lungs as a small yelp left your lips. You quickly started laughing as you squeezed her back, the love your felt for each other radiating off your skin. She turned her head, resting it on your shoulder before speaking. "Let's go back.. Let me take care of you, love."

A smile rose to your lips as your turned your head just as she did moments before. You already felt the safety echo through your chest, bouncing across your ribcage and settling into your heart. A light chuckle left you as your locked eyes with hers. "Yeah.. Let's go.."

Good God, let me give you my life..

~~

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𝐚/𝐧: THIS WAS SO FUCKING FUN TO WRITE HELLO?

it does get a bit heavy in the middle but after rewatching the music video I needed to display some of the emotions from that and was inspired and ended up with this hehe.

thank you for this ask ! im sorry I havent been posting as much but again im a wokring college student so I know yall will understand. I absolutely love it in this community and always love when I get to write for you all :)

hope you liked it !

x

~ 𝐜𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐯𝐲𝐧

✧･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧ :══════⊹⊹══════: ✧･ﾟ｡˚☾.･✧

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: (tagged anyone who asked/wanted to be on the "all works" taglist)

@eveymay @weemssapphic @readingtheentrails @finnja555 @barbarasstar @s-c-rambledegggs @vendocrap8008 @gwendolinechristieiscute @lvinhs @lilfartbox1 @agathaandgwenslesbian

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#crowravencrow #larissa weems #larissa weems x reader #principal larissa weems #principal weems #larissa x reader #principal weems x reader #principal larissa weems x reader #larissa weems x y/n #larissa weems smut #principal larissa weems smut #larissa x you #larissa x y/n #larissa weems x female reader #angst #songfic #song fic #take me to church #hozier #hozier lyrics #lyric fic #lyricfic #wlw fanfiction #wlw fanfic #anon #anonymous #anon ask #anonim #asks #answered

[chosoclub]

SUNDAY MORNING ⋆ CHOSO KAMO

PAIRING — choso ° f!reader GENRE — lazy sunday au!smut!oneshot WORD COUNT — 1.7k TAGS — MDNI ° fingering (f!receiving) ° some smooch smooch ° drooling ° slight spit play ° slight voyeurism ° dirty talk (i didn't overdo it TRUST) ° giving gentle dom!choso a chance to shine CONSPECTUS — The sun like a bright, amber blanket, veils you and Choso as the two of you spend a lazy Sunday in bed.

The golden sun peeks behind the window shades, the partitions separating the light into smaller seams that overlook the bed. Choso softly snores next to you; his breaths are dense, and his eyelids are molded perfectly, resting against the pillowcase. His hair spreads across the pillow, strands idle on his forehead; the rest of the dark mane is a tangle near his temple. You reach over and plant a kiss against his cheek. His black eyelashes twitch before resting on his waterline again.

The lingering of your lips has him fluttering his eyes open, umber retinas melt into yours, and the edges of his eyes curl when he smirks. Good morning, he rasps, voice like honeysuckle, bitter from the long night of slumber, sweet at the sight of you. 

Under the covers, his hand moves with a smooth slink to your waist. It’s unexpectedly cold in contrast, but it slips behind your lower back and scoots you closer to his abdomen. He leans to kiss the spot between your jaw and neck. 

“How’d you sleep?” He murmurs under the hood of your jaw. 

“Not bad. Did you sleep well?” He emerges back to face you, smiling.

“Yeah, I did.” His hand tips your back closer to lean against his torso. His chest is warm; you can smell the trail of his cologne from the day prior. He rests his chin atop your head, saying, “We can stay here, like this for the day. How’s that sound?” 

His words reverberate when your forehead is against his throat. You chuckle, first at the vibrations of his nodes, second at the suggestion. 

“You wish, I have too much to do.” 

He brings his other arm to crawl under you, encircling around your upper back. He rests it there, sighing before squeezing his biceps slightly around your arms. His muscles are protruding, and arteries veiled by the beige skin begin to seep through even though he isn’t pressing hard enough that you can’t escape. 

“Looks like you don’t have much choice.” He presses a kiss to your scalp and shuffles you closer to his chest. 

You mumble against his skin that this isn’t funny. The only response is another kiss atop your head. He lets you pry from his arms, a pout revealing itself when you detach from his skin. 

“But it’s still early. Can’t you stay a little while longer?” He softly whines. It’s not a tone you hear from him often, a slow mutter; It’s dissimilar to his normal, intense, and quiet demeanor. His eyes gaze into yours, slow blinking, trying to lure and trap you within their conditions: staying in bed all day. Before you can process his movement, despite how slow it is, he has his arm trailing your waist again; this time, his fingers softly grip the flesh of your hip. C’mon, it’s Sunday. You should rest, he coos. He’s like a siren and you’re the delible sailor who is risking plunging into his trap until he has his claws sunken into your skin. 

He leans over and lingers his lips over your collarbone. Just a little while, he adds. He kisses the area, then travels up your neck for another kiss. He’s four kisses deep on your neck when you realize it’s too late for you; without even realizing it, you sink like an anchor straight into the perimeter of a bear trap resting on the deep-sea sand. 

He reaches your chin, pressing his plush lips against the hollow of your mouth. You melt into him, his bottom lip is warm and inviting, and the tip of his tongue is soft as it slowly probes at the divets of your lips. Letting him in, accepting delicious defeat, you tilt into the kiss, and when he hangs his mouth open, you mix your tongue with his. His mouth is dry, and you can taste the slumber from the ridges of his tongue. The kiss turns messy quickly; slick, pink lips that nibble at yours. Drool seeps out of Choso’s mouth that you lick up against his chin — He groans in response, unknowing that something so trivial as you tonguing and swallowing his spit could make him rock hard and have him dragging your pelvis against his. He hovers his hand under your shirt, reaching your breast and gently taking your nipple between his thumb and pointer finger, a soft whine escaping your lips when he flicks the bud. It leads him to push his mouth even closer to yours, the sloppy, wet kiss full of warmth and desperation, your chin and upper lip covered in his spit. 

He’s swallowing every gasp that escapes your mouth as his cold hand now hesitates over the waistband of your panties, as if silently asking is this okay? As if the heat that has overtaken your cheeks, your heavy breaths, and the viscous sap that pools in your cunt aren’t already enough of an answer.

His kisses settle to quick, wet pecks on your face before he pulls away, “god, you’re so sexy when you’re like this.” 

“Like what?”

“Desperate for me.”

Something about his words and how his lips glisten as the morning sunlight creeps up the bed has heat traveling up your abdomen. Choso smirks, bringing his middle and ring finger up to his lips, coating the digits in saliva. Tipping his head forward, idle strands falling and framing his dark eyes full of intention, he scoots his hand under the waistline, cold fingers caressing over the goosebumps on your skin and prying your thighs open. When his middle finger reaches the opening of your pussy, collecting the wetness that’s already formed, your eyes roll back into your head, and your eyelids succumb to the pleasure. It’s acute the way he watches you; You’re desperate to have him kiss you again, a dry film already taking over your lips, but you know it won’t happen. He’s honed in on watching you get off from his fingers. 

He slides his middle finger up the middle and to your clit, the soft, slick spot already rosy and sensitive. A moan escapes your lips, causing him to pick up speed, and despite your eyelids hanging low, you can see Choso tilt his chin up in satisfaction before pressing his lips against your neck. He draws a tight circle around the boundaries of your clit, ring finger pushing past your entrance – He groans against your skin when he feels you shamelessly buckle your hips in rhythm with his thrusts. He retreats his fingers, twisting them like coils as he enters again, making you writhe and whine against his jungle of hair.

Mmm, he hums lowly, “So wet, listen to the sound of that,” he slides his middle finger inside, pressing against your swollen walls. And you do hear the flow of your pussy, coating his fingers, the squelch that makes your toes curl against his calves. Beckoning your pelvis with the two fingers, Choso tips your hips forward against his hand and the bed to get more leverage and allow you to bear your hips to his thrusts. He draws his tongue against your neck, laving in slow circles sending tingles up your back, and draws his coated middle finger to slide up your swollen clit until you’re whimpering against his ear; The molecules in the air are fizzing as the coils inside your pussy rend, the heat overwhelming and making you downright delirious. He picks up pace inside your walls, pushing his fingers until he’s knuckle-deep. Choso keeps his cheek against your neck, listening to your moans resonate against his skin. You tighten your folds against his fingers as you feel your climax crescendo. He draws his fingers out to the fleshy tips before pressing them inside once again, swirling them within the confines of your cunt. When his thumb reaches over to your pearly clit, gently pressing and stimulating the rosebud, it’s game over. His fingers have you oversensitive, writhing and moaning against him, which only has Choso going faster and his dick growing harder. 

“You’re so sweet when you’re trying to come from my fingers,” Choso peers down under the covers and at your hips that buck and thrust against his digits in desperation. He’s twisting his fingers knuckle-deep again and suckling at a spot on your collarbone until it’s bright red and glistening with spit. “I know you got it in you, baby,” he adds. 

“It feels – ah! – too good,” you arch your back, whimpering helplessly into the covers. He curls his two fingers inside the pillows of your pussy, relaxing them, drawing them out, back in, and curling them again, still keeping your clit stimulated until you become an arousal-filled, overstimulated mess. You orgasm all over his fingers, moaning against his chest at the sensitivity of your cunt. Choso pauses to draw his fingers out slowly, your eyes half-lidded, watching him bring the digits into his mouth and lick up the honey-coated fingers while his burnt umber eyes stare into yours. He relishes at the sight of you, strands of hair stuck to the glisten of your forehead, mouth hung slightly open, and eyes rolled back. It makes him feel proud to be the only one to have and see you like this, pussy spilling pearly-white cum and lips sultry to kiss him. The corners of his mouth quirk, watching your breathing slow as you float back to Earth. He drops his arm over your upper back to drag you against his chest. He doesn’t mind your sweat, in fact kissing your shiny forehead and saying, 

“See? I truly meant just a little while.” 

“So unfair,” you mumble.

“You can get me back when you have the energy,” He separates your forms to look down and shoot you a wink. 

You’re too tired to say another thing. The potential responsibilities of the day dissipate until you can’t even remember why you wanted to leave in the first place. The sun isn’t even near its peak position, and Choso’s chest is so warm, and the way he smiles at you is lethargic. He presses a kiss to your lips, you taste of yourself and his spit as your heavy eyelids set in the amber light. 

#✩°｡⋆⸜ 𝘊𝘏𝘖𝘚𝘖𝘊𝘓𝘜𝘉 𝘞𝘖𝘙𝘒𝘚 #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jujutsu kaisen fanfiction #jjk fanfic #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #jjk x fem!reader #jujutsu kaisen choso #kamo choso #choso x reader #choso smut #jjk choso #jjk smut #chousou #ao3 fanfic #jjk anime #jujutsu kaisen #fem reader #x reader #jjk reader insert #jjk x reader smut #x reader smut #choso jjk #choso kamo #choso x y/n #choso x you #choso x female reader #was listening to real love baby and hozier while writing it was v slay #not to sound desperate but hope this does well LMFAO plsplsplslpslsplslpspspls

[aethelwyneleigh27]

I HAVE BEEN LISTENING TO HOZIER NON-STOP FOR THE PAST 6 HOURS.

If you guys know his songs "Too Sweet" and "Work Song", YOU CANNOT TELL ME SIMON RILEY ISN'T CODED IN THOSE SONGS, LIKE I KNOW THE HARDENED LIEUTENANT MORE LIKELY DOESN'T LISTEN TO THOSE KINDS OF SONGS BUT YOU CAN'T TELL ME THOSE SONGS AREN'T HIM ENGRAINED IN LYRICS.

There's so many ways to interpret "Too Sweet" and though the original meaning of the song is rejection, I have another way in mind to interpret it. So the question is, what do you want me to post first? These post will carry angst, I have no promises of a happy ending but I'll do my best to make it work.

And yes, although I know it's a rejection song, I will say early on that I will interpret it far different than what others will because I want to sway it a little bit on the end goal. I need happy endings too yk.

I'M FUCKING OBSESSED WITH HOZIER, IS THIS A NEW PHASE?

Also would y'all be interested in a Simon Riley dating playlist from my music taste??

@wishesforyou @puff0o0 @simping4konig @simp4konig @blingblong55 @azereus @rustic-guitar-notes @shadofireshinobi @thelightdjinnofpalestine @09maruchan @anonymuslydumb @skeletalgoats @icarustypicalfall @ghosts-cyphera @fawnchives @connorsui @capuccino192 @miss-gms-and-the-rotten-womb @celestialhole @the-second-sage @starryylies @everlastingmoonlightsworld @keiva1000 @iexiam

#cod x reader #aethelwyne lia writes #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #cod headcanons #simon ghost riley x reader #aethelwyne lia answers #ghost x you #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost #ghost cod #ghost #ghost x plus size reader #ghost x female reader #ghost x y/n #simon ghost riley x gender neutral reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon riley x plus size reader #simon riley x you #simon riley #simon ghost x you #simon riley x y/n #hozier #too sweet hozier #work song hozier

[mika-writes-fanfics]

As It Was

Dabi x Reader Angst

Warnings/tags: angst, hurt/no comfort, brief mentions of burns, major character death, pre-established relationship, reader cares for flowers

Synopsis: Dabi returns to you after completing his life's mission, his body now badly burned and damaged. He wonders, will you accept him with open arms? Will you take what is left of him?

Author's note: I've been on a Hozier binge. "As It Was" from Wasteland, Baby! was giving me major Dabi vibes. This is kind of different from the content I usually like to write and read, but I felt so inspired I just had to write it. Word count: 1.1K

He’s now thankful your home is on the outer reaches of the city, tucked in a secluded pocket between the border of the forest and the concrete hell of the city. After what he’s done, there’s not a person in Japan that wouldn’t recognize his face. Had you not lived in the middle of nowhere, he’d already be arrested by some weak police officer or jumped by some rookie hero. 

It’s ironic, the thinks, that his opinion has changed. He hated it, at one point. You lived so far away from his shitty apartment at the time, meaning that every time he wanted to see you, he had to take the agonizingly long train rides. It was like you lived in a fucking retirement community since all the elderly would take the same train, giving him judgemental stares all the while. It pissed him off to no end. And if that wasn’t enough, being in the forest always reminded him of Sekoto. 

But still, he bore it all for you, back before he let his rage consume him. 

Before he devoted himself entirely to revenge. 

Before he started burning himself all over again. 

Before he fucked it all up.

Despite the way he left you, he hopes you’ll be kind enough to him to accept his return, to not instantly slam the door in his face.

If he even makes it to your doorstep, that is.

Each step he takes feels like a battle between life and death. These heavy and labored movements exhaust him, made worse by the state your driveway is in. Of all the days for it to rain, it just had to be today. The torrential downpours make the path harder to traverse. Mud clings to his boots with every trudging step he takes, threatening to suck him into the earth, burying him at his final resting place. 

The puddles of water settling in the tire tracks of your car show him grim reminders of his appearance, showing him glimpses of just how ghastly he’s become.

He’s a burnt husk of what he once was.

Nothing is left of him now that he's achieved his life’s purpose. 

The only thing that remains of him is this homing instinct to return to you.

To go back to the start. 

To give you what’s left of him.

To feel his final sensation of comfort.

To feel loved again.

He’s faced with the reality of how long it’s been when he finally catches sight of your home. In the year he was by your side, he never saw those Foxgloves bloom once, as he met you in the late summer. But now, judging by the towering violet, bell-shaped flowers framing the sides of your window, it’s been three years.

It’s in this moment that his mind replays the memory of the following summer, the one in which he noticed you agonizing over the flowerless plant beds. He remembers it, with surprising clarity amongst the mental fog. 

“Why do you bother taking care of those stupid flowers if they never fucking bloom?” He asked you, critically. 

“They’re foxgloves,” you answered. 

“So?”

“So, they do bloom, just biennially, and their flowering season just passed. You’ll see why I keep ‘em around in another year,” you explained.

The fact you even implied he’d still be in your life a year from then filled him with a sense of security. Whether you meant it or not, he took it as a promise, and kept it tucked in the darker reaches of his heart. 

Three long years have passed since he left you, since he abandoned you without a word. But he has known you have a patient side to you, he’s seen it in the way you always gave him space in his darkest days, how you allowed him the time to come back to you when he was ready, how you never took his frustrating habit of pushing you away to heart, weathering his toxicity with love and carefulness. Maybe, since you’re so patient, you have been waiting for him. If you welcomed those flowers despite their long absence, maybe you’d accept him, too. 

Normally, he’d sneer at the thought of you turning him into such a hopeless romantic, a weaker version of himself, but considering how there’s nothing left of him anyways, he’s fine with the idea. Maybe the positivity you give him would turn him into something beautiful again. 

He finally climbs up to your doorstep and stumbles against the door. When his shaky and weak hands turn the knob, expecting to be met with a locked door, it turns easily without resistance. Your door is unlocked, which in his state of hopeful delusion, he interprets as you waiting for him.

Maybe you knew he would come back.

You had made it easy for him to crawl back into your life.

Or maybe you just forgot to lock it. 

He swings open the door as he leans against the door frame. Any other time, the sound of the groaning hinges would grate at his ears, but right now, the sound feels familiar and comforting. It feels like nothing has changed, everything is as it once was.

He trudges deeper into your home, shambling past your living room and tracking mud all over your floors. There’s a pit of anxiety forming in his stomach the longer he walks through your home without seeing a glimpse of you. But it’s when he approaches the kitchen that he hears you humming, the sound calming his mind. 

His boots thud on your tiled floor, loud, and uneven. He sways as he walks, bumping into one of your dining chairs, the movement scraping the chair against the floor. Your humming abruptly cuts off at the sound and you turn to the source, on high alert, only to see him propping himself up against the walls.

A sharp gasp escapes your lungs. 

All he can see is you as the edges of his vision grey out. Against your better judgment, you rush over to him as his legs start buckling underneath him.  

He starts to collapse on the spot. You close the distance and open your arms around him, catching his fall and attempting to bear the brunt of his weight. 

Despite what he’s done, despite how he left you so suddenly, he can still feel your love for him.

It’s in the way you try to make sure he doesn’t fall, despite tripping being the least concern to him given his injuries.

It’s how your voice sounds frantic as you ask him if he’s okay if he can hear you, if he’s still in there.

It’s how you start to sob at seeing the state he’s in. 

You’re so worried about getting him to lie on the ground safely and checking his pulse that you fail to see him softly smiling at how you fuss over him, what’s left of his burnt face forcing out a peaceful expression. 

The last thing he hears, the last thing he feels, the last thing he thinks about, is you.

#dabi angst #dabi fanfic #dabi x reader #dabi x reader angst #major character death #Major character injury #tw: mentions of burns #tw: death #hozier inspired fic #dabi x y/n #dabi x you #bnha dabi #mha dabi #dabi #reader insert #gender neutral reader #no pronouns mentioned for reader #dabi x gender neutral reader