our bodies twist like shoelaces. freddie/effy. r.
title: our bodies twist like shoelaces
type: fanfic
rating: r
summary: freddie contemplates sex, love and why everything feels different when it's effy's mouth against his. title from bright eyes "i will be grateful for this day".
our bodies twist like shoelaces
we get drunk and kiss, our bodies twist like shoelaces.
but we never came undone, i guess you were just my type.
He takes her hand between his own.
“Effy” - he starts but she isn’t listening. There’s a cigarette dangling from her fingertips, the end of it stained with lipstick. Her mouth is twisted into that odd little smirk of triumph. He’s seen it before- when her fingers were tracing the contours of his arms in class and when she kissed him, kissed him after aiming a rock to Katie’s head.
He wants to shake the vacancy from her eyes, smother her with kisses and drown her. His chest flips. She’s slamming the cigarette to his bedroom floor, ash and spit spilling over his carpet. She’s grinding it out with her heel and her free hand is cupping the back of his neck.
“Yeah?” she breathes against his mouth. He thinks his heart might burst. He’s never felt this much before and he’s not sure what to with it.
She’ll run if he pours it all into her. Freddie twists his fingers in her hair and feels very much like the girl in this relationship, feeling mildly sorry for Katie.
It’s a fleeting thought- flys right out of his brain when Effy tugs him down and kisses him soundly. And then all he can think of is her mouth and this is Effy he’s kissing- he’s dreamed about it for days. Head on his pillow, hand down his pants and he has her now.
He runs his fingers down her sides, folding away the shirt and she moans, tipping her head back. She isn’t one to bite her tongue, hold back screams.
“Bed,” he grunts, mouth tucked into the curve of her neck and Effy shakes her head, fingers finding his zipper and runs her hand down the length of him.
“God.” It comes out breathless- “Effy, please” and she smirks, mouth tilting up as she kisses him and guides him into her.
It’s like a damn breaking. He’s never felt this hot before, this much fire, passion- she is consuming him. All he can feel, everywhere is skin, skin, skin- Effy.
Later, when his backs against the sheets and her legs are tangled with his own, he will sigh and she will run a nail down his chest.
“What you expected?” she murmurs and he is quiet. It isn’t easy with Effy, no careful domesticity falling into them. He took her out the other night, some club and she was dancing on a bar, skirt in the air and every man in the room was staring at her bum. Katie would have let him curve his hands around her waist instead, kissing in the corners of the bar, his hand sliding down her front.
Effy is not that girl. Effy is the girl on the bar and he’d shoved his hands into his pockets, felt awkward and quiet. Till she reached down, pulled him up with her, their limbs loosely tied as they spun across the table.
He remembers his heart hammering, hard in his chest and his ears and feeling luck that she picked him. His thumb running over the line of her hip and wondering if she did this with Cook and the thought curled knots in the base of his stomach, tight and nauseous feeling travelling up to his chest.
But he loves her. He loves her, he wants her. Always has and-
“The best.”
Puts it simply, mouth against the top of her head and she curls into him, instinctively. Sometimes, he thinks she might love him, too.
Not yet. Someday, though. Someday.
type: fanfic
rating: r
summary: freddie contemplates sex, love and why everything feels different when it's effy's mouth against his. title from bright eyes "i will be grateful for this day".
our bodies twist like shoelaces
we get drunk and kiss, our bodies twist like shoelaces.
but we never came undone, i guess you were just my type.
He takes her hand between his own.
“Effy” - he starts but she isn’t listening. There’s a cigarette dangling from her fingertips, the end of it stained with lipstick. Her mouth is twisted into that odd little smirk of triumph. He’s seen it before- when her fingers were tracing the contours of his arms in class and when she kissed him, kissed him after aiming a rock to Katie’s head.
He wants to shake the vacancy from her eyes, smother her with kisses and drown her. His chest flips. She’s slamming the cigarette to his bedroom floor, ash and spit spilling over his carpet. She’s grinding it out with her heel and her free hand is cupping the back of his neck.
“Yeah?” she breathes against his mouth. He thinks his heart might burst. He’s never felt this much before and he’s not sure what to with it.
She’ll run if he pours it all into her. Freddie twists his fingers in her hair and feels very much like the girl in this relationship, feeling mildly sorry for Katie.
It’s a fleeting thought- flys right out of his brain when Effy tugs him down and kisses him soundly. And then all he can think of is her mouth and this is Effy he’s kissing- he’s dreamed about it for days. Head on his pillow, hand down his pants and he has her now.
He runs his fingers down her sides, folding away the shirt and she moans, tipping her head back. She isn’t one to bite her tongue, hold back screams.
“Bed,” he grunts, mouth tucked into the curve of her neck and Effy shakes her head, fingers finding his zipper and runs her hand down the length of him.
“God.” It comes out breathless- “Effy, please” and she smirks, mouth tilting up as she kisses him and guides him into her.
It’s like a damn breaking. He’s never felt this hot before, this much fire, passion- she is consuming him. All he can feel, everywhere is skin, skin, skin- Effy.
Later, when his backs against the sheets and her legs are tangled with his own, he will sigh and she will run a nail down his chest.
“What you expected?” she murmurs and he is quiet. It isn’t easy with Effy, no careful domesticity falling into them. He took her out the other night, some club and she was dancing on a bar, skirt in the air and every man in the room was staring at her bum. Katie would have let him curve his hands around her waist instead, kissing in the corners of the bar, his hand sliding down her front.
Effy is not that girl. Effy is the girl on the bar and he’d shoved his hands into his pockets, felt awkward and quiet. Till she reached down, pulled him up with her, their limbs loosely tied as they spun across the table.
He remembers his heart hammering, hard in his chest and his ears and feeling luck that she picked him. His thumb running over the line of her hip and wondering if she did this with Cook and the thought curled knots in the base of his stomach, tight and nauseous feeling travelling up to his chest.
But he loves her. He loves her, he wants her. Always has and-
“The best.”
Puts it simply, mouth against the top of her head and she curls into him, instinctively. Sometimes, he thinks she might love him, too.
Not yet. Someday, though. Someday.