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insomniac4000 · 5 months ago

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Change of Heart Part 2

Second and final part, enjoy!

"So what are we doing for my birthday boys?" Chris asked excitedly. George and the pair of Arthur's looked at each other with knowing glances, since this was technically Arthur Hill's idea it was decided that he was going to be the one to break the news but he wanted to do it slowly.

"Well I'm actually playing a show in London that night and I thought you know... since we're flatmates that you guys could come, I've got VIP passes for you all. Maybe we could go out for a few drinks after?" Arthur said, his voice going a little high at the end through fear of what was about to come out of his mouth next.

"Sounds great, what's the catch?" Chris joked, oh he had no idea.

"Y/N's going to be there too, it's her show..." Arthur replied and flinched as he anticipated Chris was going to hit him. Instead the curly haired boy shook his head vigorously. These were meant to be his friends, how could they plan something they knew he would hate?

"That's fine. I'll see what Theo or Will or someone is doing instead." Chris was trying to stay as calm as possible but his words did not match his body language in the slightest. It was George who was the one to try and salvage the conversation, picking up on the panicked look from Arthur.

"Look Chris, this is at the Brixton Academy, it's Arthur's biggest gig to date. This is not about choosing sides in a stupid argument it's about supporting our flatmate and our friend," the younger tiktoker reasoned. He knew Chris wasn't an arsehole even if we was acting like one and Chris would want to be there to support Arthur if he could be.

"Fine. But I'm only there for Arthur," Chris sighed admitting defeat.

Chris was now on board, the boys thought it best to not specifically mention that to you that Chris was going to be at the show. Since you walked out of that pub garden you have had nothing to do with him and the guys had told you that "we" were going to be there so you assumed that it didn't include the little hobbit. So when you saw his scowling face in Arthur's dressing room it did come as massive shock.

"Technically we didn't lie to you," Arthur Hill said to you in a desperate attempt to defend himself.

"Whatever, I have no time to argue. I have a show to do." You stated simply before walking out of the room. Everyone was surprised you didn't try to engage in some sort of an argument but no one was as surprised as Chris. The bottom line was you were a professional and you had a lot of people you didn't want to let down. Even though you liked a drink you never drunk before a show, your voice sounded better that way, a fact that had also shocked Chris when Arthur told the group after George suggested going over to you with a drink as a peace offering after you had left the dressing room.

Arthur was on first and you went to see his set, like you did with everybody you played shows with in order to show support and also because you just loved music, you were also due to sing "Iced Coffee" with him which was closer to the end of the set. While watching him you clutched your bottle of water as you stood just to the right of George, Arthur was to his left and Chris was at the end. The curly haired boy kept glancing at you, you had changed into your stage outfit, a leather body suit with long but sheer sleeves and a sheer train at the back which just about touched the floor and a pair of black knee high boots. He had to admit to himself you looked really good and he wanted to kick himself for it, who was he kidding you always looked really good.

"Sure I can't tempt you?" George asked as he offered up his drink to you. You politely shook your head and turned to him.

"The minute I get off stage I promise,"

"That's quite honourable you know. It's weird how Youtube puts you in this bizzare bubble where it's not only acceptable to drink on the job it's encouraged. If I did that as a barrister I'd have been struck off," Arthur explained.

"That's true, I probably could but I think my voice just sounds a lot better sober," you explained. Chris's eyebrows raised a little, he didn't realise how hard you worked at your job and just hoe seriously you took your music career. He had assumed music was just something you did because you felt it was cool or popular and you just wanted something else to do as opposed to Youtube but he was slowly starting to realise just how wrong he was.

Soon it was time to join Arthur on stage as the moustached man introduced you.

"Now I would like to invite a very special person on stage that I knoe you're all waiting to see. Please welcome the insanely talented Y/N!!"

Chris couldn't help you watch you intensely, your smile wide as you gave a wave to the crowd. It was obvious to anyone that you absolutely loved performing to people. While he had heard your songs in the background when the other boys played it but he hadn't really paid attention before. Arthur started the song then you sang.

"Oh, we go up to go down Kiss, chase round and round Your head in my clouds, so high We're all over the place My hands on your waist Your changing the pace just like"

Chris didn't realise before how beautiful your voice was. It had a sad almost haunting tone to it which matched the lyrics to the song perfectly.

"I hate to be the one to clear the air This ain't no casual affair Don't mean the feeling wasn't there Just means you kinda made me scared"

You couldn't help but glance Chris's way a little when you sang the last line, you were always wondering what you did to make him hate you so much. The first time you appeared on his channel you made a couple of jokes but you were only trying to fit in. As you continued singing you felt the lyrics flow through you as you felt them.

I can't keep my cool When I'm around you I can't keep my cool When I'm around you

Chris knew that he had main character syndrome a lot of the time but he somehow knew that you were singing to him.

To his surprise Chris stayed for your entire set and watched as you effortlessly moved across the stage, singing your heart out.

After the show you came off stage' hot, sweaty and tired but that was just how it always was and you loved it.

"Wow you are really good," Chris commented as you walked past, a huge smile on your face. Everyone stopped for a moment and let Chris's comment, no Chris's compliment sink in.

"Thank you," you replied giving Chris a small smile before downing the bottle of water which was always left at the side for you after a show. Since he was showing you a little bit of kindness you thought he deserved a little back.

"Right, let's celebrate shall we?" You asked to a chorus of cheers as everyone went to get ready for the night out ahead. You had changed into something a little bit more comfortable, a black skirt and a white body suit with ruched sleeves and some white platformed trainers. Chris watched you as you spoke to people, some from the show, others you had worked with previously and he was impressed you remembered people's names, the lighting, the sound guy. Had he gotten you wrong all along? As the night went on and the drinks flowed everyone couldn't help but notice you and Chris had not bickered once, he had even just offered to get you a drink which you accepted.

"Thanks," you smiled as you took the glass of rum and coke from his hands.

"You're welcome, maybe it could be a peace offering?" Chris suggested. You looked at him and studied his face, he was quite cute when he wasn't pouting, well actually you thought he was very attractive when he was pouting. He had wonderful blue green eyes that changed colour depending on the light, sure you were a smidge taller than him in those shoes but it didn't bother you, he didn't give off short man energy instead he embraced it which you quite liked.

"Sure thing. I dunno what I ever did to make you despise me so much but I'm glad we're getting along now, only if it is for tonight," you slurred in his ear before taking a sip of your drink. Chris frowned and looked down at his feet, he was now feeling incredibly guilty in that moment.

"I never said I despised you," he slurred back, leaning on the bar for support.

"Sure acted like it, look I don't want to have another argument with you. Thanks for the drink and thank you for coming to my show," you replied before you went to walk off to talk to someone else. A pull on your hand stopped you, you looked back to see Chris holding on tightly with a look on his face you hadn't seen before, determination?

"I meant what I said. I think you're really talented tonight was great," he complimented and you nodded as you felt the blush rise in your cheeks, luckily the bar was hot so you could pass off any redness to that.

"Thank you. You're the only person I know who can make football interesting," you replied with a slight giggle, giggle? What were you a school girl? Chris nodded slowly as he licked his lips a little, God that was hot you thought.

"You're really beautiful as well. Maybe we could start again?" Chris asked letting go of your hand but placing it out in front of you as if he were asking you to shake it.

"Hi I'm Chris," he said confidently as he gave you a cheeky wink. Your face broke out into a big smile as you shook his hand.

"Hi I'm Y/N," you giggled out, biting on your bottom lip as he lifted your hand up and kissed it gently. Both of you looked so intently in the other person's eyes you both failed to notice the jubilant cheers going on in the background from Chris's flatmates.

#chrismd fic #chrismd x reader #chrismd #chris dixon

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katakaluptastrophy · 10 months ago

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@greatandquestionablecontent noted that my discussion of Paul and St Paul didn't touch on the latter's awful views on women and sexuality.

And while I very much hope those aren't relevant for our new Lyctor-ish buddy Paul, they very much do haunt the narrative of The Locked Tomb.

We get one in-world bit of theology in Gideon the Ninth: the Sermon on Necromancers and Cavaliers, which talks about how the Houses understand the relationship between necromancer and cavalier and god. And it's pretty much St Paul's Letter to the Ephesians, ctrl + F'd for necromancy, with a few other infamous Pauline verses thrown in for good measure, especially from 1 Corinthians:

A necromancer who must leave her House and fight requires a swordswoman./For this cause shall a man leave his father and mother, and shall cleave to his wife, and they shall be two in one flesh. - Ephesians 5:31

Our necromantic characteristics make us more like the Emperor...the necromancer and the cavalier are no different./[A man] is the image and glory of God; but the woman is the glory of the man. - 1 Cor 11:7

As [the Emperor] was once man, and became God...so were we dead and became alive./And as in Adam all die, so also in Christ all shall be made alive. - 1 Cor 15:22

Their love is the love that fears only for the other: the love of service on both sides. Some have tried to characterise this relationship as the cavalier’s obedience to the necromancer, but the necromancer must be in turn obedient to the needs of the cavalier without being asked or prompted: theirs is arguably the heavier burden./Loving one another with the charity of brotherhood, with honour preventing [anticipating] one another. - Romans 12:10 (I suspect this one is also meant to call to mind Ephesians 5's instructions for wives to submit to their husbands, while husbands are asked to love their wives like Christ loves the church - an instruction proponents of so-called Biblical gender roles will often describe in language similar to the Sermon as being the bigger ask.)

The love of the cavalier for the necromancer, and the necromancer for the cavalier...cannot be libidinous./But among you there must not be even a hint of sexual immorality, or of any kind of impurity...because these are improper for God’s holy people. - Ephesians 5:3

So cavaliership very much reproduces the gendered asymmetries of power found in many traditional Pauline-flavoured interpretations of Christian marriage.

But when you look at some of the invective around a romantic or sexual necromancer/cavalier relationship, it's coded rather more as homophobia.

The Sermon on Necromancers and Cavaliers hedges around explicitly condemning necro/cav relationships as specifically against the will of god, but makes it clear that's very much a view held within the Houses:

"after a myriad of thought about the matter, marrying your cavalier remains taboo at best. There have been those who have argued eloquently that it is traitorous to the ideals of the Necrolord Prime."

While St Paul isn't the only source of egregiously homophobic Bible verses, he's responsible for a good chunk of them, and the idea of this specifically defying the designs of God is a recurring theme...

It's worth noting that not all of what's generally described as St Paul's writing likely actually is. And Ephesians, which features so strongly here, is one of those "pseudo-Pauline" letters - a sort of Pauline fanfiction written to fill in perceived gaps or deal with issues as they arose.

But it feels oddly appropriate that the Houses' theology of gender cavaliership, itself an imitation of St Paul, is so strongly inspired by an imitation of St Paul...

#the locked tomb #tlt meta #tlt paul

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da-rulah · 1 year ago

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Can I have Copia with a reader who was harassed out In public but they Beat their ass? I’m in a mood today lol!

Also take care of yourself ❤️❤️

I'm assuming you mean reader beats their ass while copia just kinda stands there like 😳

and i like this idea, so i can oblige... (i hope your day got better btw!)

TW/ asshole man in a dive bar, harrassment, language, mild violence

A quiet drink. That had been the idea... When Copia had asked you for a quiet drink, just the two of you, away from the bustle of touring with the Ghost project, you had jumped at the idea.

You'd both been pretty stressed on this tour - equipment malfunctions, venues trying to push you out based on your beliefs, abhorrent weather...

So a quiet drink, with your beloved, sounded wonderful.

Until it wasn't.

Copia and you sat at the bar, turned towards each other on your stools and sipping on cocktails you were getting him to try. So far, he was enjoying a fruity 'zombie', only appealing to him for the name and the fact you had told him it tasted like one of his tropical juice boxes he loved so much.

You were giggling at his "Mmmmhhmmmmmm, delizioso!" when someone tapped you on the shoulder.

"Well hey there, pretty darlin'," a thick southern accent came from the tall, burly, hairy man stood behind you, leaning on the bar with a toothpick between his teeth.

Quite the typical southern gentleman, you thought to yourself. Complete with lumberjack costume, it would seem.

"Uh... hi," you awkwardly smiled.

"You come here often?" he asked as you turned your back to him. You rolled your eyes at his pathetic cliché and turned back to him, annoyance bubbling away beneath the surface.

"Just when I'm looking for a sacrifice, really," you mocked.

"What?" he scrunched his nose in disgusted confusion.

"What?" you mimicked, mock disgust in your own expression. The stranger shook his head to pass the moment and continued.

"Can I buy you a drink?" he asked, already flagging down the bartender who waltzed on over, until eh saw your dark stare and small shake of your head and turned on his heels in the opposite direction, too afraid to even attempt it...

"No," you deadpanned.

"Why not?" Lucifer, this guy was persistent. Copia shuffled on his stool, uncomfortable and unsure of how to help. This guy was at least a foot taller than him, wider too, and he felt small in comparison.

"You can't afford it," you shrugged. The lumberjack stood up from his leaning position, puffing out his chest in anger.

"I fuckin' can," he argued, trying his best to intimidate you where you sat - as if that was gonna make you say 'sure, Mr. Lumberjack, now I'm smitten and want to get married and have lots of little lumberjacks with you'.

You swivelled on your stool, looking him up and down slowly, brows knitting in confusion at his appearance.

"Oh, so you... dress like this... for fun?"

"The fuck is wrong with you, bitch?" he raised his voice at you, squaring up to you. Copia stood quickly, coming between you both in a show of sudden protection. It was instinctual, at this point.

"Hey, man," he said, sounding less than confident... "don't talk to her like that," he defended.

"The fuck you gon' do about it, huh?" This caveman doesn't understand full sentences, huh? He pushed Copia's shoulders, making him stumble into you. You kept him upright with a hand on his back.

"She doesn't want a drink with you, she's my girlfriend and she's having a drink with me, eh?" Copia was getting mad now, opting for defending your honour.

"Your girlfriend? HA! This bitch got weird fuckin' taste, man," he chuckled, pushing Copia again.

You saw red then, the stress of touring and the anger at this stronzo culminating into an amalgamation of absolute rage. You stood up, coming between your Papa and this ridiculous man, pushing him back and making him take a step.

"Bitch, what are you-" he began, until you interrupted him with a deafening SLAP to his face. He held his cheek, starting to step to you again but you didn't give him the chance, pushing him back paired with a swift kick to swipe his legs from under him.

Copia watched on, frozen in shock with eyes wide. When you turned back to him, he looked like a little lost puppy dog.

You looked down at the heap of a man you'd floored and smirked, pulling Copia to you by his shirt and slamming your lips to his - clearly a display of 'fuck you, I'm his and his only'.

Copia's arms flailed as you pulled him, only composing himself to kiss you back as the lumberjack stood and strode off in a huff, muttering about how much of a bitch you were.

When you drew your lips from Copia, you held him still by the shirt, smirking.

"Let's get out of here," you invited, a sultry hint to your voice - a promise of more displays of dominance to come through the evening. "Get your coat," you ordered.

He nodded wordlessly, scrambling to get his coat from the back of his stool and running to catch up to you, already striding proudly out of the bar.

Copia was in for a night of stress relief that he'd never forget...

#ghost bc #papa emeritus 4 #papa emeritus iv #cardinal copia #the band ghost fanfic #copia x reader #papa x reader #cardinal copia x reader #the band ghost #ghost band #ghost fic #ghost fanfic #papa copia

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riiwrites · 1 year ago

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hiii !! my mind has been so fixated on sigma lately so could i possibly have any sigma fluff ?

tysm dear ♡

𝐒𝐈𝐆𝐌𝐀 𝐅𝐋𝐔𝐅𝐅 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒

a/n : ofc you can love, ty for your request, i hope head canons are alright for you? 💗

genre : pure fluff

warnings : none

wc : 540

— 𝐒igma is genuinely one of the sweetest boyfriends you could have ever asked for

- he’s just so gentle with you and so sweet

- you two never argue about anything but if you did, it’d be on a very rare occasion about something silly

- due to him only being on Earth for about three years i feel like you’d be his first lover, although he has so much experience with running a casino i just don’t think he’s ever had time to focus on things such as relationships

- that’s why he holds you so close to his heart, he cherishes you, scared that one day you’re going to leave and he’ll be alone

- sorry that was a bit angsty on my part, anyways-

- speaking of him and his casino!!

- he would 100% rigg the casino machines in order for you to win every single time

- he would never admit it though because he just loves seeing you get so happy when you win

- you already know he riggs them in your honour tho but you pretend you don’t know to keep him happy too (≧◡≦)

- LOVES head pats and head kisses

- giving or receiving he doesn’t mind, he’ll normally kiss you on the crown of your head and call you his ‘angel’

- he calls you his angel because he feels like his life had a whole other purpose besides his casino when you walked in

- ur his purpose :((

- basically, you’re his miracle angel

- would give you other pet names such as “love” “miracle” “princess” etc

- you help him run the casino too at times if he would get too stressed

- he doesn’t want to bother you but you insist on helping

- “it doesn’t feel like working when it’s with someone you love”

- loves giving you hugs from behind too, planting a soft kiss on your neck at times

- he’s not afraid to show you off either

- he’ll have you gently placed on his lap whenever he’s sitting down wherever it’s with customers, staff members etc.

- if he’s doing work in his office he’ll have you placed on his lap whilst his chin rests on your shoulder doing whatever he’s doing

- he truly does think of you as his prized possession and he cares for you sm <3

- i also feel like he’d be surprisingly good with doing hairstyles etc

- but i also feel like that’d be false at the same time tho cuz i mean his haircut atm isn’t doing my head canon any justice..

- sorry i love sigma i didn’t mean for that to be slander, anyways 😭

- he would just love playing with your hair, doing styles with it putting clips in it and what not

- would also spoil you with SO much clothes

- very fashionable ones too cuz his outfit is just 💋💋

- his love language is probably acts of service or quality time

- just loves doing stuff for you and he enjoys most of his spare time with you

- bottom line is : he always has a smile on his face when he’s with you <33

#bsd #bsd headcanons #bsd x reader #bungo stray dogs #bsd sigma #bsd sigma x reader #sigma x reader #sigma bungou stray dogs #sigma headcanons #sigma bsd #sigma bsd headcanons #bsd x you #sigma x you #fluff #headcanons #riiwrites

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ijustwanttoreadfanfiction · 2 years ago

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Friendly Sex - Chapter 1 - The Party

Eddie Munson X AFAB!Reader

Your 6 year long unrequited crush on Steve Harrington is starting to wear thin, and after discovering Eddie Munson feels the same way about Chrissy Cunningham you decide to make a pact. After all, what's the harm in a little casual sex between friends?

A/N: Story opens April 1986. Slight AU, all the events of seasons 1, 2 and 3 happened, except Hopper didn't get transported to Russia, the gate was closed and Joyce, Hopper, Jonathan, Will and Jane all move to California as one big happy family. Jonathan and Nancy break up (necessary for plot, apologies to any shippers). Nancy and Steve are together. Reader is 18 and in final year at Hawkin's High School, alongside Robin and Eddie etc. Reader works at Family Video with Robin & Steve. Vecna storyline is not a thing, strange things will not be happening. This has been festering in my brain and I don't know what to do with it, so, tada!

Warnings: NSFW. SMUT, (MDI) 18+ only, drugs, sex, alcohol, underage drinking, public sex, dirty talk, name calling in sex (consensual), explicit language, adult themes, there will be angst, it will get messy.

More warnings to be added.

Revised edition.

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

It was Robin’s idea to go to the party, one of those let’s have a party for the sake of having a party, parties, the all American standard, under-age keg fest.

It was an unwelcome change from your regularly scheduled Saturday night plans of doing nothing.

But argue as you might, Robin had made it clear you were going, even if she had to drag you.

"I'm tired of watching your ass wallow in self-pity." She said in true blunt Robin fashion, pulling outfit after outfit out of your closet, throwing them haphazardly in your general direction.

"I thought you loved watching my ass." You bite back, holding up a rust-coloured corduroy mini skirt to your hips.

"Ha, ha. I'm serious though dude, this whole moping Minnie routine is getting old, you just need to get out there and get yourself laid." She groans, pushing past you, flopping face first onto your bed in frustration.

"The skirt looks good, you should wear it with your tan knee highs." She adds, laying on her front to look at you.

"I'm working on it Rob." You grumble, fishing your boots out from under a pile of clothes. "It's not easy to let go of a 6 year crush you know."

"Well maybe if you had made a move 6 years ago, we wouldn't be in this mess." She huffs in exaggeration.

"Gee, you're right, let me just hop in my time machine, go back and tell my 12-year-old self to man up and ask out Steve Harrington. Huzzah!" You quip dryly, yanking the zipper of your boots up none too gently.

"Honestly Harrington has a lot to answer for, it's like the women of Hawkin's see him and suddenly all rational thought disappears." Robin laughs.

"It's the hair." You agree, fluffing up your own in the mirror. "And only the great Robin Buckley, lesbian superheroine, is immune to its hypnotic powers."

"Then I must use my powers for good!" She declares in a manly tone, hauling herself off the bed to wrap her arms around your shoulders. "My mission, gentle citizen, is to break the spell cast over you." She places a wet kiss on your cheek casting an appraising eye over your finished ensemble. "Very hot."

***

It's not that you disliked parties, after all it was a time honoured tradition to go to some random person's house whilst their parents where out of town and get absolutely wasted, chintzy picture perfect living rooms suddenly overrun with overactive hormones, sweaty bodies and dubious punch bowls, however after the initial buzz wore off you usually found yourself longing for the quiet solitude of your bedroom. Of course, when you express this to Robin, after half an hour of being there, she merely rolls her eyes in disgust, thrusting another cup of mystery alcohol in your hand, ushering you back into the throng of young adults.

"Would you stop?" She implores, holding your left shoulder with her free hand. "Your problem is you think too much. So, give those little grey cells a break by killing some of them off." She lifts her own drink in a mock toast, nodding at you to do the same.

"You are a terrible friend." You relent with a laugh, toasting quickly and taking a gulp, face scrunched up in distaste as the alcohol burns your throat.

"The very worst." She says with an evil grin, which fades somewhat as she focuses on something behind you. You turn towards the source, and despite knowing what you would see, your stomach still swoops uncomfortably at the sight of Steve or more precisely Steve with his arm wrapped around Nancy Wheeler looking incredibly loved up. "Shit." Robin declares.

"Shit." You agree flatly.

You move to go back towards the kitchen, but Robin takes your hand, holding you in place, Steve having already spotted you both, his own hand thrown up in greeting, weaving through the crowd with Nancy in tow.

"Fancy seeing you fine ladies here." Steve grins broadly, leaning in to give each of you a one-armed hug, your skin burning from his touch.

"Fancy that." Robin agrees sheepishly, you get a grim sense of satisfaction at the uncomfortable look on her face.

Nancy, who had been hanging off of Steve's free arm for the majority, leans forward to speak to you over the pounding music. "I love your skirt Y/n." She smiles sweetly; and you feel the rather irrational urge to stick pins in her bright blue eyes.

"Thanks Nancy." You call back, trying to return her smile. "I- uh -I like your bracelet." You say, noticing a golden glimmer on her wrist, plastering on the enthusiasm.

Nancy, being an actual angel, flushes with pleasure at your compliment. "Steve bought it for me." She sighs, toying with the gold bangle,

and you try not to urge as they share a sickening saccharine look.

"Of course he did." You mutter grudgingly to yourself, desperately wanting to escape.

"What did you say Y/n?" Steve asks absent-mindedly, still gazing at Nancy.

"I'm gonna grab another drink." You say in a clearer voice, not that it mattered, because at that moment Steve seemed to find a very interesting spot on Nancy's neck that required the immediate attention of his mouth. Grimacing you slip past them, purposely ignoring Robin's pleading calls for a top up and/or a sick bucket.

Reaching the kitchen, you chug a cup of punch straight off, before refilling it to the brim, whilst you knew alcohol wouldn't solve your problems it could certainly try and soothe the jealous beast currently roaring in your head at the human octopus that was Stancy.

Deciding the garden was the best place to avoid a front row seat to the lovefest, you steer your body around bumping and grinding couples, careful not to spill a drop of your precious emotional medicine. The backyard to your pleasant surprise is empty, the party having not yet spilled out, and the chilly night air was a welcome contrast to the stale humidity inside. You wander out onto the pristine lawn, and find yourself releasing a breath you didn't realize you had been holding, ears ringing slightly as they adjusted to the now muffled thumping bass.

"Well, well, well what brings you out here Sweetheart?"

You groan heavily at the teasing drawl behind you.

"I was trying to get some peace and quiet, but that's not likely to happen with you around, is it Munson?" You sigh, turning to face Eddie Munson who was perched on a swing set to the far right, slightly obscured in semi-darkness, but a Cheshire cat grin clearly plastered on his face.

"Ouch, you wound me." He says, placing a dramatic hand over his heart, still grinning away like an idiot. "Seriously though, I wouldn't have pegged you for this kinda gig." He gestures with his head back towards the party.

"It was Robin's idea." You mutter darkly, glaring towards the shut French doors.

"Well, if looks could kill, I'm guessing you'll have a best friend vacancy by this time tomorrow." He laughs again, which irritates you further.

"What are you doing here?" You deflect back, hiccupping slightly as you drink some more punch. "Place is like jock city in there, hardly your regular stomping ground either."

He nudges a battered black tin lunch-box with his foot, slightly tucked under the swing. "You know me sweetheart, got a business to run, empires to build, horizons to expand." He says with the usual Eddie flair.

"Dealing drugs to inebriated teens, I should've guessed." You say wryly, rolling your eyes.

"You make it sound so dirty." He mocks you, irritating smirk still fixed. "And you've never complained before." He reminds you pointedly.

Whilst far from being a hardcore user, you were a semi- frequent customer of Eddie's when it came to weed, finding him to be discreet, reliable and most importantly for your minimum wage ass, cheap.

"Well maybe I'm in the mood to complain tonight," You mutter suddenly feeling bitter about the way the night had gone downhill so quickly, scuffing your boot into the neatly trimmed grass.

Eddie leans down to extract something from his tin.

"Joint for your thoughts?" He offers, holding out a perfectly rolled spliff, quickly adding. "No charge." You mull it over for all of 2 seconds, concluding your jealous inner demon will not be calmed by alcohol alone.

"'Atta girl!" He calls happily as you stomp over to squeeze beside him, he pats your knee in encouragement, then lights up, graciously passing you the joint for the first drag which you take gratefully.

You both sit in comfortable silence for a few minutes, offering the smoke back and forth. You could tell straight away that the weed was a much higher quality than you could ever normally afford and therefore hoped its soothing effects would kick in a lot quicker.

"Soooo," Eddie gently ventures after a few more minutes, "you wanna walk about it?"

"What's there to talk about, I'm in love with a guy who is in love with someone else." You shrug on a heavy exhale.

Eddie whistles between his teeth, regarding you carefully as you take another hit.

"Ah, that old cliche huh?" He nudges you lightly, taking the joint back for his turn.

Now Eddie had said it, you couldn't help but laugh in agreement.

"I guess it is pretty clichéd."

"Yup no points for originality this time princess. So, who's Captain Oblivious?" He asks, offering you another hit, shaking your head you opt to take a swig of alcohol, mentally bracing yourself for Eddie's inevitable teasing.

"Steve Harrington." You sigh glumly into your cup.

Eddie let out a muttered "Damn."

"The former King of Hawkin's High himself. I don't envy you there babe."

You snatch the joint back from his ringed fingertips, fed up with his teasing. "Don't take the piss Eddie, I'm not in the mood." You mumble defensively, leaning forward so as not to see the smirk on his face.

"Hey." He says in a surprisingly genuine tone, his hand rubbing your back, making you turn to look at him. "I'm not ragging on you sweetheart. Harrington is a nice enough guy now he's not hanging out with the douchebag brigade. I can see why you'd like him."

You lean back and Eddie slips his arm around your shoulders.

"Well, I'm glad you can see it, he doesn't even know I exist, at least not in the way I want him to." You sigh, resting your head on his arm, seeing off the last of your drink and feeling distinctly sorry for yourself.

You both lapse into silence again, the swing swaying gently beneath you as you burn through more of the joint , somewhere inside the house voices were shouting "Keg! Keg! Keg!"

After a few moments, Eddie shifts slightly, arm wrapping more securely around you.

"Can I tell you something?" He asks, sounding nervous.

"I mean I just bared my soul to you, so I guess it's only fair." You murmur, glancing up at him.

He breathes a heavy sigh, right leg jiggling.

"I have been head over heels in love with Chrissy Cunningham since middle school." He confesses with a wince.

You wanted to say something encouraging, maybe even profound, or at the very least offer some words of comfort, so you felt a little guilty when you couldn't suppress the giggle that passed your lips.

"Chrissy Cunningham?!" You exclaim, staring at him wide-eyed "Cheerleader extraordinaire, Chrissy Cunningham?"

He looks at you, lips pressed tight as though he was trying to hold back his own laughter.

"Yep." Letting the 'p' pop. "Ever since she shook her pom-poms in the talent show."

You were barely holding it together, attempting to keep your voice level as you spoke.

"Wait, wait. So not only are we both in love with two very attractive people who are waaaay out of our league, these people are also in long term committed relationships with two other very attractive people."

Your statement hung in the air for a second, both of you then erupting into fits of laughter at the ridiculousness of the situation.

Eddie chuckled throatily around the stub of the joint, almost burnt out. "Oh man, we are pathetic." Shaking his head.

You jam your elbow lightly into his ribs. "Hey, speak for yourself!" You jokingly admonish.

"What, you think you have a chance?" He snorts incredulously.

You pretend to weigh up your options.

"If Nancy Wheeler gets hit by a bus, sure I'll shoot my shot… after an extended mourning period of course." You say.

"Of course." Eddie agrees, both of you collapsing into fits of uncontrollable giggles once more, fuelled on by excessive alcohol and weed.

"So, what do you think you need to do to get over little old Stevie?" Eddie asks you somewhat more seriously, stamping the remainder of the joint out under his sneakers, leaning back against the swing, taking you under his arm again.

You shrug, settling comfortably against him, staring up at the night sky, your own arm wrapping lightly about his waist. "Robin says I just need to get laid." You sigh flatly.

"I mean it's not the worst suggestion in the world." He says reasonably.

"Yeah, but c'mon Munson, guys aren't exactly queued around the block waiting to give me a service." You say, gesturing to the empty garden, Eddie pulling a face at your phrasing.

"Maybe that's because you've spent the past however many years with your Harrington blinkers on." He suggests, and it hits a nerve within you, quite often you wondered if you had missed opportunities with other guys because of your Harrington fixation. Your first and thus far only proper relationship, at 16 ,was doomed to fail from the start as Bobby Cooper just couldn't live up to the standards you had set in your daydreams of Steve.

"Well, what about you and your Chrissy conundrum? Your on-tap supply of groupies not helping to ease the pain?" You bite back, on the defensive.

Rather than get shitty with you, Eddie just gives you the classic Munson smirk.

"You think I’m good enough to have groupies?" He teases, squeezing your side, with a saucy eyebrow raise.

You pinch him back playfully. "I've seen you play Eddie; you know you're good." You admit with a smile.

He heaves a dramatic sigh, hand to his brow like some wretchedly poor southern belle.

"And yet, the tour bus-"

"Your van?" You chip in snidely.

"-my van" He ruefully concedes "is decidedly empty, even with the new air freshener."

"It's a crying shame, Eds." You laugh, patting his cheek.

He places an affectionate kiss on your head, cuddling you closer against the chilly breeze, it feels nice to be held, and even nicer to talk to someone so openly, other than Robin of course.

You lapse into comfortable silence once more, the strains of some Blondie song thumping from inside, the party was kicking up a gear but you found yourself lost in thought.

You had always had a soft spot for Eddie, conversation flowed easily enough, and you appreciated his dry sense of humour, both of you were regular outcasts in comparison to rest of the high school cliques, and you had found yourselves in detention together more times than you cared to count; you had a bad habit of disagreeing with your English teacher. And if you were being honest, he was actually really kind of pretty when you took the time to really look at him, chocolate brown eyes, full lips, awesome hair.

You hadn't realised you had been staring at him until he cleared his throat, you pulled away from his arms sheepishly, cheeks aflame from the embarrassment of being caught out, but feeling sure Eddie had been staring at you for the same amount of time.

"Uh- sweetheart, and by all means please let me know if I have completely misread some signals here, but I think I may have found the solution to both our problems." It surprised you to hear a note of uncertainty in his voice, particularly as Eddie was normally shockingly cavalier to a fault, it made you turn back to face him.

"Go on…" You encouraged him, finding your mouth oddly dry.

He took a deep breath, leaning closer, his arm snaking about your waist, warm fingertips tracing absentmindedly across the inch of exposed skin between your skirt and top, goose pimples erupting that made a shiver run up your spine.

"You need to get laid." He stated. "I need to get laid. We both have stuff we need to get out of our systems. You're a stand-up girl," he gave you a courteous nod. "...and I think I'm correct in saying you find me tolerable at the very least." The uncertainty was back, steeling yourself you placed a hand on his denim clad knee giving him a squeeze.

"More than tolerable Eds." You offer a smile.

"Thanks sweetheart." He mutters blushing. "So, uh anyway, what I'm trying to say here is… in a pretty roundabout way and you can of course say no-"

"Eddie"

"Sorry, rambling, what I'm trying to say is we could… help each other out?" He was staring at you, pleading with you to chime in.

"You mean sex?" You ask slowly, noticing his blush creep up to his ears.

"Uh, y-yeah that thing." He stammers. "If you wanted to, with me, we could have sex as friends every now and then, friendly sex."

You glanced at your wristwatch, 26 minutes ago you came out into the garden of some unknown person seeking a quiet place to drown your Steve induced sorrows, and now you were sitting next to Eddie Munson, seriously considering his offer of 'friendly sex'. Maybe Robin's kiss from earlier really had broken a spell, you laughed aloud at the thought, mirth quickly turning to frantic apologies at the look of horror on Eddie's face, forgetting that he was not privy to your inner monologue.

"Oh my god Eddie, no I'm sorry, I'm not laughing at you!' You cried, cringing at your own social ineptitude.

"Hey, it's ok honey, I told you, it's cool if you don't want to-" His tone was calm, patting your side, making to stand and walk away with what little dignity he had left.

"NO! Don't go, I do want to!" You let out a shout, grasping his arm to pull him back down, your face burning in mortification that you essentially just begged Eddie to fuck you.

"Alright sweetheart, calm down I'm not going anywhere, no need to shout." He soothed; devil- may-care smirk back in place, holding you firmly about the waist again. You tried to turn away at his teasing, but Eddie cupped your cheek, the numerous rings on his fingers cool against your prickling skin.

"I'm going to kiss you now." His voice low and surprisingly authoritative. "Ok?" He asks, inching closer to your lips. Unsure if you had the nerve to speak, you merely nod. "Use your words princess, I need you to tell me that it's ok for me to kiss you." He teased; lips just shy of brushing against yours.

"I-it's ok, kiss me, please." You whisper, hands fisted in his jacket, pulling him in to close the final gap.

Eddie surged forward with an urgency that made you gasp, kissing you hard, your teeth clacking together painfully but you didn't care, adrenaline coursing through your veins like rocket fuel. You quickly found the right rhythm for each other kissing back with equal enthusiasm, his grip tightened moving you to straddle his lap, with you kneeling. He kneaded your ass, grinding you down, you gasped feeling the hard outline of his dick, taking full advantage of your open mouth, his tongue slipping in to meet with yours. Releasing his jacket, you tangled your fingers in his hair, tugging harder than intended as Eddie nipped at your bottom lip, but he hardly seemed to care judging by the groan that escaped his throat. You smirked, tucking the knowledge away for later use, Eddie also appeared to be mentally cataloguing your reactions, like the way your hips rocked involuntarily as he sucked your neck just below your right ear, and how your breath hitched whilst he felt you up under your shirt, brushing the underside of your breast.

So lost in each other you didn't notice the sudden increase in noise coming from the party, signalling that someone had opened the screen door, it was the violent retching sound of vomiting that had you jumping apart as though you had been electrocuted, scrambling off Eddie's lap. You grimaced in disgust, Chance from the High School basketball team spewing chunks over the once pristine lawn, to the jeers of others inside.

"Hey…" Eddie spoke breathlessly, pulling your attention back to him, his lips kiss bitten, pupils blown wide. "You uh, want to get out of here?"

Grinning you snatched up his hand pulling him none too gently in the direction of the back gate, the sound of Chance's digestive pyrotechnics mercifully fading away, Eddie now pulling you along in the opposite direction to the house.

My van is this way."

Your heels clacked against the concrete, the pair of you moving at a light jog, keen to pick where you left off, both breathless as you came up on Eddie's van.

"Your chariot milady." He gestured proudly to the beat up vehicle like it was Cinderella's magical pumpkin carriage.

"Eddie, calling me milady is a total turn off." You teased, nose wrinkling.

He pulled you to him, spinning you so your back was pressed against the passenger side door,

"Oh well in that case, I best stick to sweetheart, huh sweetheart?" Caging you, his smile almost predatory as he set to work sucking what would no doubt be a prize-winning hickey just above your throat.

You grabbed the scruff of his neck when the skin got too sensitive, pulling his lips back to yours, both of you fighting for dominance in the kiss, thoroughly making out. Eddie palmed your tits, as you reached down trailing a teasing hand along the bulge in his jeans, he broke the kiss huffing out a low "Shit…."

Feeling bold, you flashed him a mischievous grin, unbuckling his belt, your hand slipping inside the tight denim stroking his cock properly, he was fully hard, your thumb swiping a thick bead of pre-cum around the mushroomy head.

"You keep doing that sweetheart and I’ll have no choice but to fuck you right here in the street." Eddie panted against your neck, his words going straight to your cunt.

"Promises, promises." You said with a purr, jerking him slowly.

He laughed breathlessly. "Fucking tease." His hands quickly hitching up your skirt, hips pressing you closer to the van, slipping your panties to the side, you gasped as he trailed a finger through your wetness up to your clit and back down again.

"Jesus baby, you're soaked. All this for me?" He asks incredulously, kissing you deeply again, two fingers moving slowly pumping in and out of your cunt as his thumb plays with your clit. The pair of you working each other, quiet moans slipping past swollen lips

"Eddie." You whined softly, there was a tiny voice in the back of your mind which was terrified about getting caught in such a compromising position, but a much louder voice was screaming, begging to let Eddie have his way with you in the street where anyone could see.

"What is it princess?" He murmured, biting at your lower lip.

"I want -" You hiccupped on a moan, all four of his fingers now working over your swollen clit, spreading the slick from your cunt, you could only hold his cock, brain not functioning enough under his ministrations.

Grinning, taunting you openly he nipped at the sweet spot under your ear, whispering "Use your words baby."

"Oh my god." You whimpered. The screaming in your brain reaching a fever pitch; you wanted him to fuck you, right now, you didn't care if you got caught. "Eddie, do it, fuck me, fuck me right here." You say frantically, his movements stilling in shock.

"You sure sweetheart? I-I can wait, we don't have to do anything you don't wanna-" He cut off, watching as though in a trance, you turned yourself around, pushing your ass out toward him, in the dim streetlight your pussy glistened with wetness all swollen and pretty.

"Ho-ly fuck." He breathed out in awe, fishing hurriedly for a condom in his jacket pocket. You were breathing hard against the passenger window, watching Eddie's reflection, staring, cheeks flushed with excitement and lust as he yanked his jeans and boxers down enough to free his length, panting as he rolled the condom on. Coming up behind you, he crowded you against the van once again, his body covering your back, feeling his cock line up with your entrance; shivering at the slow press and delicious stinging sensation as he worked his way in.

"Christ you're so fucking tight baby." He hissed, balls flush to your ass as he bottomed out, one hand coming up to play with your tits, the other bracing against the van as he started to thrust.

"Eddie…fuck." You choked out, rubbing at your sopping clit, you were already so close, bouncing your hips back against him as he thrust harder.

"Oh my fucking god, you're perfect, so fucking tight and perfect. I can feel you dripping on my balls." He groaned, grabbing your hair, turning your head to capture your lips in a frantic kiss, you keened into his mouth. He was pulling your top up, freeing your breasts, pinching at your puckered nipples, his other arm wrapping tight around your middle, holding you steady, pounding deeper.

It was lewd, it was indecent, it was sinful and you had never felt so alive.

"Eds, Eddie, I'm - fuck I'm fucking close, please." You begged, pleading, hovering over the edge, heat swimming deep in your belly.

"Oh shit, yes, such a good girl." You could hear he was close, the words passing through gritted teeth. "Taking this cock so well. You wanna cum baby?"

"Yes." You whined desperately, the coil within you tightening. "Please, I wanna cum so bad, fuck me harder."

You didn't know where the words were coming from, had never felt this pent up, never craved sex this way before.

Eddie's balls were slapping against you in a faster rhythm, the sound penetrating the otherwise still night air.

"Fucking hell baby, yes take it, so fucking good - shit - that's it fucking cum for me sweetheart. Cum-on-my-cock-you-little-fucking-slut." He punctuated each word with brutal thrusts and at the word slut you felt the dam break, wave after wave of throbbing pleasure seized your body, head thrown back in a wordless cry, spasming around his dick.

"Shit,shit,shit,fuck,fuck." Eddie was chanting in a low whine, hips stilling against you, even with the condom on you could feel the pulse of him cumming.

You both stayed perfectly still for a moment, your shared heavy breathing the only sound now.

"That was… holy fuck that was…" Eddie muttered leaning heavily against your shoulder, you clung onto the side mirror for support, legs feeling like jelly.

"Uh huh." You agreed breathlessly, you felt his hand on your back rubbing soothingly, unable to stop yourself from hissing as he pulled out, gently righting your panties for you and pressing a fleeting kiss to the back of your neck.

It was a remarkably sweet gesture, particularly in stark contrast to your position moments before, you tugged your top down, and skirt back up leaning against the van with a heavy exhale. Eddie had tucked himself away, and was now busy tying the condom off, stepping into the road to drop it unceremoniously down a gap in a drain cover, your face scrunched in distaste at the action.

"Giving the swimmers a new lease of life." He said winking impishly.

"I'm sure the sewer rats will be ever so pleased." You deadpanned.

You were unsure what the plan was now, should you go your separate ways, you back to the party, him to - well wherever Eddie spent Saturday nights?

Returning to the party felt like a hellish idea, not just because you probably looked like you had just had sex, which you had, but you'd also have to face Steve and Nancy and whilst you now seemingly had the option of sex on tap, emotionally your heart still very much belonged to Harrington. Also you had the beginnings of a headache no doubt from the toxic punch.

"Uh- sweetheart you in there?" Eddie asked you, waving his hand in front of you, evidently you had zoned out.

"Huh?"

"I was talking about milkshakes."

'Milkshakes?" You repeatedly blankly.

"Yeah, ya know, you take the milk, you take the shake you take them both and then you have the facts of life." He said moving past you, opening the passenger door.

You just stared vacantly.

"Oh my god I fucked the intelligence out of you." He giggled, ducking to one side as you tried to punch him in the arm, catching your hand he pulled you to him.

"Sweetheart I would very much like it if you would accompany me to a diner where we can have milkshakes and discuss the intimate details of our little arrangement." He clarified, gesturing for you to get into the van.

"Details?" You ask cluelessly, clambering into the seat, maybe he had fucked you dumb.

"Details." Eddie cooed, tapping you on the nose and strapping you in like a child, before handing you his drug box and slamming the door.

You were unsure whether to be amused or concerned at how he skipped to his own driver's side, lighting a cigarette.

"Eddie, what exactly are we doing?" You ask, completely exasperated. He revved the engine, jamming the play button on the car radio, head banging along to Ace of Spades - Motorhead for a few moments.

"EDDIE!" You yell over the music impatiently.

"You and I are making a pact princess" Flashing you a huge grin before peeling down the street.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie stranger things #eddie x fem!reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x afab reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fic #eddie munson smut #stranger things #eddie munson x y/n #eddie x reader #eddie x y/n #eddie munson 18+#strangers things eddie munson #reader insert #eddie munson x afab!reader #eddie munson x fem!reader

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septimaseverinawannawrite · 2 months ago

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Autumn Equinox

Fandom: Tom Hiddleston's Loki

Type: One Shot

Pairing: Asgard!Loki x F!Reader

Summaries: Blissful Autumnal Equinox with your most beloved, Loki.

Content : Establishing Relationship.

Warning: Consuming of Alcohol. Smut Language (from second half part). My English (is my second language).

Rate: T to M

Words: 1,337 (Finally, I can go back on writing more than 1,000 words!)

A/N: Actually, my hiatus is about sorting which fandom I truly love. Tom Hiddleston's Loki has always been. Also, I've met the amazing @lokisgoodgirl. She writes super grande and magnifique Loki's contents, her mini-series made me in tears. No kidding. Annnnnnnndddd, happy Autumnal Equinox! 😊🍂🍁

🌹Click to My AO3

When you have passed through the frame of the high carved golden door of the banquet hall, when the first music note hits your ears, and the completely decorated colossus hall presents ahead. All the honourable guests – not only from Asgard; the allied Realms, too.

Few attendants, carrying trays with glasses of refreshment and sliced-fruits, walk toward you, offering you these appetizers before the feast begins. You pick a glass of deep red liquid and a bowl of sliced berries as a matter of courtesy. With polite deportment, as it is official; you are the second Prince of Asgard, prince Loki’s lover right now.

Speaking of your graceful grandeur and lover, you expect him to stand beside Queen Frigga, otherwise hanging out with Thor and friends, or mingling with the guests. Since, he has always been a remarkable entertainer, in almost every feast and banquet.

You look around this great hall with keen sight, yet he appears not, even his very own shadow under golden and silver glittering.

You make your way across the hall, searching throughout the crowd thoroughly. Loki still does not stand in presence anywhere or hides amongst them, though.

Sighing despondently, you stroll near the terrace and hope he might appear later due to the present; King Odin and Prince Thor are nowhere to be seen like Loki.

The large terrace outside, the guests did not loiter and linger on that much. You see only a group of young women gathering together to comfort a woman, who was crying and babbling about how her intended had remorselessly refused to dance with her; four, perhaps five courtiers arguing over advanced scientific theory; and a tall figure leaning over a big column at the dim far side.

You smile. Even in such hazy light, no, much darker place one can barely see, you do always remember your only beloved.

Loki is standing alone. He leans on the column with a book in his hand, that pair of symmetry brows knit together, jawline gritted tightly and did not stand the full length of all his elegance and finery; he was still beautiful. Or more, as small brightness, from a few torches, has glowing on his tall figure and ravenous black sleek locks and hair.

Tonight, he dresses in shining ceremonial attire; armour, breastplate, black and green appearance – adoring with golden rims and lines – with an emerald cape that flies behind along the gentle breeze. A glass of high spirit golden liquor sat on the nearest small table.

If you must verbally describe his appearance right now, you could never complete that task and lose yourself all over him, as always, every single time – no matter who has asked.

While you approach closer to him, a tiny soft smile tugged on his lips, before averting his gaze from that book.

“I know what you're thinking.” His smile gets wider, “Come here, my moon.”

He places a book on the table, extends his arm and hand to catch your free hand. Yours and those slender fingers intertwine together, when another pulling you close to him.

“Don’t you have to entertain the guests, both from Asgard and other realms? Leaving your mother alone with her lady-in-waiting, without King Odin and Thor to nowhere avail on significant festivity, likewise?”

“My mother is more than capable to entertain and get this banquet going on, don’t worry and don’t mind them.”

“But if I do mind…?”

You lift an eyebrow, place a glass and a bowl on the same table, as the corner of your mouth is raising. He chuckles delightedly.

“Eager to acknowledge everything and anything as usual…such a perfect queen for me.”

“Oh, you’re praising me.”

You pretend to be surprised, sliding an index finger onto Loki’s chin; up to his jaw, to his cheekbone.

“You haven’t told me yet.” Now your finger is on his pointy nose. “Concerning All-Father Odin and Prince Thor.”

Loki removes your finger down to his chest instead, holds your hand while kissing your temple.

“Also, I’m suddenly and immediately desire to acknowledge the matter you’ve just read.”

“Then you shall.”

His magic brings you both out of the terrace, disappearing from the feast. Currently, you both are standing on the balcony of his bedchamber.

A deep emerald velvet chaise, along with silk blanket, and big pillows are placed together on a golden trimming carpet – facing the vision below and ahead. Besides, is a carved marble and unknown material table; a jar of fine liquor and two delicate – but gorgeous glasses, more luxurious fruits and desserts than everything at the feast – on the very exquisite silver tray, and other pretty ornaments.

Loki pulls you to sit next to him, skilful fingers undid your elegant hairdo and remove a satin shawl out, before holding you closer. You also notice his cape and ceremonial armour pieces have vanished, leaving only black leather attire on, but now your attention is the view before your eyes.

The scenery from this specific point is remarkable and splendid, much more than the usual state you have seen about a hundred times: ten thousand lights illuminate the city below on Equinox’s night and the Bifrost, as glowing and sparkling as numerous stars and the crescent moon above the dark purple sky.

“So, what preoccupies your father and brother?”

You lean your head on Loki’s shoulder, his large – yet soft – hand circling and rubbing your exposed skin, tenderly and fondly. You close your eyes and let a quiet moan slip out of your mouth, feel the blissfulness and enjoyment gradually creeping inside.

“Thor’s Midgardian lover. Seems like she is unnecessary to All-Father’s will and the feast.” He ceases manoeuvring your bare shoulder, sliding down to snake his arm around your waist.

“Why is your father even bothered and upset? She’s a scientist, despite her knowledge compared to ours, she surely wants to see the equinox from Asgard when the great opportunity is right before her.”

“Indeed, she is.” He starts pressing his nose on your hair. “Now you have your answer, haven’t you?”

Loki’s huskily whispers into your ear, his other hand tilting your head away from the view in front of you both to face him.

“Summer is totally gone, but how can you smell like peony?”

You purr and sigh with contentment, for Loki's nose and lips press at the crook of your neck. Goosebumps arise and send chills down to your spine. And, too, sense his personal scent into your nostrils; rose mixing with balsam poplar – his favourite oils when bathing.

These pleasant fragrances remind you of previous intimate and sensual countless times with Loki, especially while you are positioned under his body. All the memories are clearly and vividly playing in your mind. Curiosity of what he read before has been ignored totally, absolutely, and completely.

Nevertheless, albeit you know he needs to get you lying down – as well as you – still, you desire to indulge yourself with a breathtaking night in his embrace, and your dress on a little longer… Before he throws it away later.

Thus, you signal by grabbing his wrist, to halt him from kissing down and downward; telling him with your smooth voice. Loki irritably huffs in his throat.

“If you hold me any longer, before the moon crosses its current cusp, note this…” He bites your earlobe, as light as a feather. You try to suppress your moan, unfortunately, it fails. “You aren’t going to be allowed to leave my chamber until the day after tomorrow…”

Loki presses your back against an upholstery. Your moan changes into a high-pitched squeak, as he crashes his lips on yours, altogether, unlacing the knots behind your dress in slow rhythm.

Your breath is hitching – you can barely catch it, wherein Loki twirls his lower lip from yours; dragging down along your chin, base of your neck, your collarbone, and above your breast, respectively. As you feel his clothed length upon your thigh and his invisible smirk over the valley of your cleavage.

“Too late, my dearest.”

#septimaseverinawannawrite #reader insert #female reader #loki fanfction #loki laufeyson #loki odinson #loki tom hiddleston #loki x reader #loki x you #loki x female reader #loki mcu #loki laufesyon x reader #loki odinson x reader #loki laufeyson x you #loki odinson x you

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cliophilyra · 25 days ago

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Twenty Questions for Fic Writers

Tagged by @firehose118 - thank you Sam! 😊

How many works on AO3? 62

What’s your total AO3 word count? 228215

What fandoms do you write for? At the moment only 911 but in the past I’ve written for Supernatural, Sandman, Spiderman, Deadpool, other Marvel stuff & Sherlock.

What are you top 5 fics by kudos? Implausible Deniability (Spideypool) Put you mouth where your money is (Spideypool) Sex, Lies & Arguing About Chores (Spideypool WIP) Accidentally On Purpose (Spideypool) Sensing a theme here? The Other Shoe (Destiel)

Do you respond to comments? Yes! Always if I can.

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? Probably either When you’re tasting’ what he’s drinking (Saltommy - link below) or Therefore Love Moderately (Deanbenny SPN - link below) but I have a few.

What is the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Probably - If it comes back (Saltommy - link below) - but most of my one shots have fairly happy endings.

Do you get hate on fics? Touch wood - No

Do you write smut? If so what kind? Yessss. Only M/M so far. I think I’m best at it when I don’t over think it and just write what I think is hot. I’m probably not good at the kind of smut that drives plot/character etc. Definitely want to try my hand at more kink stuff soon.

Do you write crossovers? Never have - I like reading some of them but I’m very picky :-/

Have you ever had a fic stolen? Yes, by the dreaded Wattpad 🙄

Have you ever had a fic translated? Yes! Two as far as I remember - one into Russian and one into Chinese.

Have you ever cowritten a fic before? Not properly, I have worked with Betas pretty closely in past but I would love to have a go at properly writing something with someone else!

What’s your all time favourite ship? I know there’s probably a bit of recency bias here but it’s genuinely a tie between Bucktommy & Saltommy. Obviously in total I have written more for Destiel and they will always be super important to me but there is something about the upwelling of ideas and inspiration for these two ships that has been amazing. I basically had writers block for about 5 years. In that time I wrote about 15 fics - almost all of which were super short. In the last 6 months that I’ve had 911 I’ve written 12!

What’s the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? Sex, Lies and Arguing About Chores - that was the one that brought on the writers block I think. I wrote myself into a sort of corner and got all stuck on peoples expectations of it and just froze up.

What are your writing strengths? I think I’m good at smut when I’m in the right mood and I like creating a sense of place and atmosphere and also I usually like my dialogue.

What are you writing weaknesses? PLOT. I suck at anything that requires a complicated plot or planning. Hence I don’t have many multi chapter things. Also character analysis - I always think other people are much better at this than me.

Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? I haven’t done it much. Definitely wouldn’t attempt more than a couple of words without checking with a native speaker. I do not put it in italics lol

First fandom you wrote for? Sherlock (BBC)

Favourite fics you’ve written? Oh god this changes all the time, but today my top 6 would be: If It Comes Back - Saltommy second-chance reunion fic. When you’re tasting what he’s drinkin’ (are you thinkin’ bout me?) - angry jealous past-saltommy angst Calendar Boy - light hearted bucktommy fire calender PWP Like A Circus Wheel - saltommy secret relationship PWP Therefore Love Moderately - SPN Dean/Benny angsty PWP Implausible Deniability - silly smutty & occasionally angsty Spideypool adventure thing that I wrote as I posted it and was really happy with how it came out.

Also honourable mention to I’m Wasted (and I can’t find my way home) - Destiel endverse WIP which may never be finished but I really like what I have so far.

Tagging: @rdng1230 @thecarrott @rcmclachlan @alchemistc @nine-one-wanton @judymarch15

@marvelousbuckley @bangpop91 @racerchix21 @girlwonder-writes and anyone else who wants to play!

#tag games #writing #my writing #saltommy #bucktommy #destiel #spideypool #deanbenny #fic recs

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starlostjimin · 9 months ago

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i know the feeling too, i've been inside the dark

Pairing: Bang Chan/f!reader Rating: Explicit Warnings: Unprotected sex (in the context of an established relationship; safe to assume proper discussions have been had), body image issues (Chan) Tags: plus size female reader, body image issues, established relationship, unprotected sex, a frankly alarming amount of pet names used, they're disgustingly in love your honour, pwp Summary: Your boyfriend comes home from work frustrated and with a serious case of not-good-enough-itis. You hope you can cure him the way he once cured you.

***********

The front door closes with a dull thud and you hear two more as your boyfriend’s shoes hit the back of the closet.

“Hey babe,” you call from the kitchen. “How was work?” A muffled grumble comes from the living room and you emerge to find said boyfriend face down on the couch, his head buried in a throw pillow. “That good, huh?” you ask, settling on the floor beside the couch and running your hand lightly along his back.

“Tmfkjiepafffee,” comes the response, and you can’t help but laugh.

“Want to try that again? Maybe in a language I know?”

Chan turns his head slightly to the side and repeats himself. “They dropped a surprise photo shoot on me.” He sighed. “It was supposed to be next week, but the photographer had something come up and they had to move the shoot earlier instead of later. So it was all of a sudden today, and I look like crap, and I ate ramen yesterday so I’m all puffy, and this stupid shoot is going to be in a magazine and -”

You put a gentle finger to his lips, stopping the avalanche of words before they canbowl him over any further than his thoughts clearly already are. You lean forward and kiss him gently before speaking, your lips dancing lightly over his and lingering a hair longer than was really your intention, always reluctant to pull away from him.

“Christopher Bang Chan,” you say, your voice soft. At the surprise on his face, you giggle. “That’s right, I’m bringing out the government name. I mean business, mister.”

His eyes soften as he looks over at you, waiting for you to finish speaking.

“You, my love, are your own worst critic,” you say. You run a hand lightly along his cheek and down his jaw. “Without even a shadow of a doubt, you’re one of the most beautiful men I’ve ever seen - inside and out.” You add on the last part when you see him preparing to argue back at you. “Even first thing in the morning, when everyone is a little puffy, and your hair isn’t brushed and your face isn’t washed and you have morning breath. You still blow the rest of the world’s population out of the water. It’s a little unfair, to be honest.” A giggle escapes you before you continue. “And before you say I’m biased because I’m hopelessly, overwhelmingly in love with you, did the photographer have any complaints today?” Chan shook his head.

“The director of the shoot?” Another head shake.

“The stylists? Makeup artists?” Shake.

“So is it possible, even just a little, that maybe you’re being too hard on yourself?”

“They’re nice people. They wouldn’t say anything. But I know I need to hit the gym harder.”

Your head drops back in mild exasperation. Chan’s confidence is never great, but he goes through periods like this where it seems like nothing can snap him out of it. You’re patient, always - you know his job has him in the spotlight and that kind of constant scrutiny would destroy a lesser man - but it kills you to hear him talk about himself this way. You take a deep breath and bring your head up to look at him again. You don’t particularly like using this method, but sometimes it’s all that will nudge him out of this headspace.

“Chan?” you ask, your voice dripping innocence. “Do you think I need to go to the gym more?” It feels like a dirty move - you’re definitely heavier than him, your curves soft and muscles undefined. But you are, thanks in no small part to Chan, okay with your body. On your good days, you like it, and even on your bad days you don’t hate it the way you once did. You know what his response will be, and he doesn’t disappoint you.

“What? No! You look amazing. I’m sorry baby, have I been dumping on you on a bad day?” Chan’s answer is instant and he bolts half upright, leaning on one arm and reaching the other out to you.

“No, you ridiculous man,” you say softly, smiling and taking the offered hand. “But if you can see me that way, when I’m significantly, to use your word, puffier, than you, then why can’t you extend the same kindness to yourself?” You squeeze his hand gently and encourage him to roll over so he’s laying on his back on the couch. “I couldn’t always say this, but you make me feel beautiful.” You climb up to straddle his thighs, leaning forward to cup his face in your hands. “And considering you look like you’re carved from marble, that’s something I never expected or, for the longest time, felt like I deserved.”

His fingers trace patterns on your thighs absentmindedly as his face flushes under your gaze. “You’re incredible,” he says. “You fit perfectly in my arms - like you were made for me. And when you laugh your eyes sparkle, and it feels like the sun has come out. Your hair is so pretty,” he lifts one hand to the back of your head and runs his hand through your hair before pulling you down to kiss you softly. “And you have the kindest heart I’ve ever known. I’m so lucky.” His voice catches in his throat and you can’t doubt his words for even a moment.

“Your arms hug me like you’ll die if I ever escape,” you say softly, running a hand along his bicep. “When you’re focused on something, you bite your lip in this very particular way. I can’t explain it, but it’s insanely hot. You’ve got this classically handsome face, like some ancient artist should have carved statues of you or something. You don’t have a bad word for anyone but yourself; you’re encouraging and loving and just straight up good to everyone you meet.” Your hands begin to play with the hem of his hoodie, and you shoot a grin at him. “Let me show you how handsome you are?”

You feel his agreement stirring below you before you see him nod, his hands reaching out to wrap around your waist as you lean forward and slide his hoodie up his torso. Holding onto you tightly so you don’t fall, he shifts into a sitting position, settling you more comfortably on his lap.

“God that’s hot,” you mumble as you pull his hoodie up and over his head. His chest is bare underneath it - he obviously just tossed on whatever he had in his bag after he showered off the photoshoot makeup at the studio. You lean down to kiss him deeply as you run your hands along his chest. When you reach his nipples his breath hitches, and you smile against his mouth. “So sensitive.” Your lips move to his jaw, then his neck, and before he can get a word out they’re wrapped around a dusky bud, your tongue flicking across it. Heat shoots to your core when you hear his gasp and feel his hands tangle in your hair. You nip at him lightly before moving over to pay attention to his other nipple.

You’re nothing if not fair.

A whine escapes his lips and you can feel his cock twitch below you. You tap his hand lightly to encourage him to release his grip on your hair and slide down to the floor in front of him, tugging on his legs to have him face you. He changed into sweatpants before coming home and you’re grateful for the ease of access it gives you when you hook your fingers over the waistband of those and his boxers and tug them down over his hips, waiting (mostly) patiently as he lifts them so you can free him of his cotton prisons. You slide them down slowly in the front, letting them drag deliciously over his cock before it springs free.

“I think I forgot to mention how hot this is.” You nose lightly at his cock, hard and already beginning to pearl precum at the tip. “Let me remedy that.” Your tongue strokes over him once, base to tip, before he’s engulfed in your mouth.

“Oh, fuck,” he stammers, and you giggle before relaxing your throat to take him as deep as you can before sliding back again to suck on the tip, working his shaft with your hand as you do. Your tongue swirls around the head as your cheeks hollow, and salt dribbles along it as his arousal grows. You slide slowly down his shaft again, keeping the pressure as tight as you can, and he shudders beneath you.

“Y/n,” his voice is practically a whimper as he pulls you up off his cock. You look up at him from your seat on the floor and the fire in his eyes threatens to burn you alive. “Too many clothes,” he growls, leaning forward and pulling your t-shirt over your head. You lift your arms to ease the process for him, and he groans when he spies your breasts unencumbered by a bra. Leaning down and placing his hands on your sides, he tugs you upwards and pulls you into his lap again, kissing you deeply. Your arms come up to wrap around his neck and you cling to him as you grind down on him. His hands on your hips follow your movement until he seemingly can’t handle it anymore and they slide up your torso to cup your breasts, his thumbs grazing your nipples in an echo of what you’d done to him earlier. When he begins to lightly pinch and twist them, you pull your lips from his and throw your head back.

“Chan, fuck!” the words fall from your lips much louder than you’d intended, but you decide your neighbours can be happy for you or they can fuck off.

“Pants,” he says in response, and you lift up onto your knees so he can slide them off of you. You lift one leg, feeling the cool air hit it as he slides the black leggings down, then shift your weight to lift the other one.

It doesn’t go as planned.

Shaky, your weaker left leg doesn’t hold your weight as well as your right leg did, and you collapse to the side, very nearly kicking Chan in the head as he tries to finish pulling off your bottoms. You erupt into laughter as he dodges before tossing your leggings to the side and leaning down over you.

“Sorry baby,” you say through your laughter. “Still think I’m hot?”

His smile is equal parts amused and heated as he answers. “The hottest. Now get back up here.” He drops a kiss on the tip of your nose before pulling you back up onto his lap, your heated core pressing against his still desperately hard cock. You roll your hips against him and the smile drops from his face, pure need replacing it.

“Please, y/n,” he murmurs, burying his face in your neck and covering it in kisses and light nips.

You have no interest in making him wait any longer, since that would also require you to wait. You lift your hips and reach in front of you to take hold of his cock. Angling yourself back just a bit to get the angle right, you slide onto him, your muscles immediately clenching around his thick length. Finally fully seated, you drop your head to his shoulder with a whimper. No matter how many times you fuck, it somehow always feels like the first time all over again - minus the slight awkwardness that comes from learning the particular needs of a new partner. The pause lasts only a moment before you’re moving instinctively, your hips rolling in the particular way that you know sends him over the edge. He guides you with a hands on the front of your hips, somehow making you feel tiny with the way his thumb can still reach your clit as he does so. He presses onto it with a tight rotation of his thumb, and you clench around him, feeling yourself shudder already.

“Not gonna last long if you keep that up, handsome,” you say through gritted teeth.

“Maybe that’s the plan,” he says, lifting his lips from your neck so he can look up at you, meeting your eyes.

“Fuck, you’re so hot,” you whine, another shudder passing through you as he rubs at your clit hard, all facade of finesse gone.

“Yes baby, that’s right,” he murmurs as your eyes close. “Come on my cock for me, show me how much you like it.” When your head drops to his shoulder, he presses his lips to your ear. “I know you like how I fuck you. You’re so good to me, love. Do one more thing for me and come on my cock. Please.” Desperation is clear in his voice and you drop down hard onto him once more before giving him exactly what he’s begging for. Your orgasm washes over you, sending uncontrollable shudders through your body as you press down hard into his lap, but you can’t stop moving. You keep fucking him through it, desperate for more and more as you cling to him with every possible part of you. It’s when you start to feel the wave begin to fade, his name drifting off your lips, a soft “Chan,” that his hands tighten on your hips and he drives into you again, once, twice, and you can feel his cock throb inside of you as he finds his own release. You move slowly, milking him through it, and only when he lets out a slight gasp of overstimulation do you stop, collapsing against him. He holds onto you tightly, rotating you both around so you’re laying on the couch again, but taking care to make sure he doesn’t slip out of you. Neither of you are ready for the loss of connection yet, and you both know it. You nuzzle into his chest and he tugs down the blanket that you keep draped over the back of the couch, pulling it over the two of you while you rest off your orgasms.

It’s a couple of hours later, you think, when you wake up fully, having spent the last however-long drifting in and out of sleep, pressed tightly against Chan’s chest. You trail a couple of kisses along his sternum as you look up at him, and find him looking down at you with so much love in his eyes you think your heart might burst.

“Hey,” he says softly.

“Hey,” you reply with a grin.

“We’re gross.”

“For once, I’ll agree with you.”

“Shower?”

“In a minute,” you say, slowly sitting up and tugging him up with you. You wrap your arms around his neck and scratch through his hair lightly with your fingernails. A shiver runs through him and you can already feel his cock beginning to twitch with interest again.

“Chan,” you kiss his forehead and then his lips, a light brush of lips that is in direct contrast to the neediness of earlier. “I really do mean it, you know. You are incredibly, undeniably, gorgeous as fuck.” Your eyes meet his and you continue. “You’re handsome, you’re built, and your heart shines through your eyes and your every movement. Everyone who knows you has been given a gift from the universe, and I’m the luckiest of all. And I’m going to live to my last moment showing you how much I mean that.”

His eyes glisten for a moment and you can see him trying to steady himself. “I love you,” is all he says, but there is so much emotion behind the words you find yourself joining him in trying not to cry.

“Always,” the word is followed immediately by another kiss, and then you’re sliding off his lap and running down the hallway with a giggle. “Coming?” you ask, looking back over your shoulder and shaking your hips. You can feel your ass move, but you can’t bring yourself to care when Chan launches himself over the back of the couch and chases after you as you run to the bathroom, incredibly aware that this shower is going to be at least twice as long as usual.

#stray kids fic #bang chan fic #bang chan x reader #stray kids #bang chan #fic #fanfic #possumswrite #pwp #i'm gonna fight christopher if he doesn't stop talking bad about himself i s2g

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sseniita · 1 year ago

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hero; never learned how to drive

“Ever thought about retirement?”

“We don’t get that luxury.”

Hero glanced at the expensive car she was sitting in. Spotless and shiny. She noticed Villain’s silver watch, also seemingly expensive.

“What luxuries can I have? I’ve never even driven a car.”

Villain noticed the undertone.

“I inherited this car from my father. It’s sentimental.”

“You hated your dad.” she sneered. Villain chuckled.

Hero continued staring out the window. She felt annoyed at the frost growing on the window for a second until she realised she wouldn’t be able to see anything in the pitch black darkness anyway. She imagined the mountains that must’ve been there and flying past them, then she imagined how it must feel to want to fly and not be able to. She smiled.

“You think…” she hesitated. “if I lost my powers they’d fire me?”

“Mm. They’d probably keep you. Like a mascot of sorts. Maybe build a statue.” He said, nonchalantly. “Maybe in front of city hall,” he added. Enticingly.

“I’d like a statue. Maybe in solid gold.”

“You’d be lucky to get bronze if you lose a leg or something.”

“What if I died?”

Villain stood quiet. Hero waited for an answer. The motor was making a funny noise.

“What do you mean what if?”

“Well. I’d like to retire.” Hero decided. Rather quickly.

Villain’s mood was something tricky to read. Over the years Hero had become fluent in deciphering it, but she always imagined it wasn’t her becoming fluent- rather it was him speaking her language. Regardless, both options suggested some sort of intimacy Hero and Villain quietly shared and one that Hero held pride in.

“Retire?”

Hero decided she was feeling particularly lucky tonight. “Ya! You could come too! I was thinking we could start with a European museum trip for me. Maybe visit Japan for you. We’ll end up on the beach somewhere in Cuba-”

“Cut that out.” he interrupted. Hero noticed the slight stressful swerve of the car, but kept the lightness to her tone.

“Don’t like my plan?”

“I don’t like this game.”

“What game?”

“This one. You. Playing with the idea that you and I won't forever be what we are.”

“And what am I?”

“A hero.”

“I hope not at 50.”

“You won’t make it to 50. Maybe at around 38 you’ll have a battle and die bravely and honourably in an impressive way as you save the planet-”

“-then will I get my statue?”

They continued quietly down the road. The sound of the car getting increasingly more present, Villain’ knuckles, getting progressively more white on the steering wheel. Finally, once they turned on the main road and the streetlights reappeared, they stopped. Villain got out of the car. He opened the passenger seat and signalled Hero to get out. She did.

“You know I can fly, right? Deserting me here won’t do any-” Villain offered her the car keys.

“You drive.”

Before Hero could argue her body betrayed her and she already had a huge smile plastered on her face and the car keys in her hand. She should have caught onto the driving manual really quick, she was always a quick learner. But she couldn’t help but love the feeling of Villain’s hand on hers as he guided her through the gears five times over. Villain was uncharacteristically patient tonight.

These were the pair’s favourite type of night. Of course, they’d both enjoyed drunken escapades, scheming all-nighters, and undercover missions, but rare occasions of dreadfully boring mundane activities were the best. It gave Hero a chance to play a normal woman- in this case: a normal woman learning to drive. And it gave the Villain a chance to catch a glimpse of how it could have been if they had met under different circumstances.

The night ended, as per instructions of the Villain, by crashing the car into a ditch and the long walk back to town, side by side.

#writing #hero x villain #original fiction #i really wanted to try hero x villain content since that's the majority of what i consume on this God forgotten website #i added symbolism!!#i hope it detectable #criticism welcome #i think the word 'powers' is cringe but what was i gonna call it??? quirk???#if it ain't broke dont fix it ig #if you see grammer mistakes no u dont

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icallhimjoey · 2 years ago

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To Have And To Scold

♥ ♥ Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader

Summary: Your best friends are getting married, and who else can they ask to be their best man and maid of honour but you and Joe? It's just that... you don't really get along all that well, do you? At least, that's what you think.

CW / disclaimer: sort of enemies to sort of lovers (very vague, im sorry, but you'll see), slow burn, language, drinking, rpf, fem!reader

Author’s note: here's part 3! it's looking like this story is going to be surpassing my usual 5 parts... so, um... i hope everyone gets invested enough to keep reading past that!

Wordcount: 4K

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five - part six - part seven - part eight - part nine - part ten - epilogue

You couldn't stop thinking about it, and it was so dumb. But... you simply couldn't help it.

That framed picture somehow would find its way back into your thoughts every so often. It felt a little weird, but you also kept almost automatically rationalising it for yourself. You had photos with Mark all over; your social media pages were littered with photographs of the two of you throughout the years, and the comments accompanying them would probably make anyone feel the same way you did about that framed photograph in Joe's hallway.

So then, why did that framed photograph feel so weird to you?

Joe loved Poppy like you loved Mark, you knew that to be true. The only reason Poppy wasn't weird about your friendship with Mark was because of her friendship with Joe.

You all understood on a level not many other people did.

But still... you didn't know why, but, that photograph of the two of them felt... odd. Kind of raised your hackles a little. So, you asked Mark if he'd seen it when he was over at yours for snack night: a night of lots of snacks and dips as a substitute for dinner.

"So, I've got a question... remember when I went over to visit Joe two weeks ago?"

Mark snuck a baby carrot into his mouth that scooped up a dollop of hummus twice its size, and then immediately wanted to say something.

"Hmm," Mark hummed urgently, his face in a deep frown as he chewed.

It took ages for him to get it down, but you waited because going straight in to call Mark's fiance's friend weird might not have been the best way to go about this.

"Yea, what the fuck happened?" Mark asked, eyes big, but already aimed at another snack to grab from another bowl.

"What do you mean? Nothing happened,"

Mark looked at you all sarcastically as he chewed, as if to say, yea, all right, sure.

"What? We talked about your wedding, set dates for events, you know, figured some things out," you waved a hand around to convey the casuality, "But–"

You were about to ask Mark if he'd seen that framed photo of Joe and Poppy that he'd cropped the two of you out of, but Mark interjected before you could bring it up.

"No... something happened." Mark said matter-of-factly and then he paused and looked at you, ready to listen to what you had to say for yourself. But, you kept quiet too, because what the fuck was he on about? So, Mark continued, "Joe didn't speak to Poppy for like... five days? Four or five days after that, which is," Mark leant back and tilted his head back to shout his next words towards the ceiling, "a huuuuge deal!"

"Oh, well, that must've been unrelated to our meeting... we just talked about your wedding, he said I was nice, and–"

"Ah!"

Mark pointed a finger at you that he held right next to his face, one eye closed as he looked at you.

"That's it. He said you were nice,"

"I am nice," you argued.

"Yea, we tell Joe all the time... but he said you were nice?"

Opting to ignore the fact that you'd now heard from several sources that people were talking about you behind your back, you explained how you'd nearly walked out after Joe thought he was being smart that night. How you had said that you were a nice person, implying that Joe could just have been friendly and polite, and it would've been normal. And then you explained how, at the end of the night, Joe had struggled through telling you that he agreed and thought you were nice too. You mocked Joe to paint a vivid picture for Mark and exaggeratedly stuttered your way through the words Joe'd said.

Mark just ate and listened to you, and by the end shook his head a little at your impression, a dangerous smile playing his face.

"But have you seen that framed photograph he has in his hallway? Right by the front door?"

You finally got to the point you were trying to make.

"Of Pop?"

"The one we're cropped out of," you were hoping for Mark to be a little outraged, but he remained totally calm.

"Yea, Poppy has the same one, we've got it framed upstairs, on the landing," Mark said as he licked spilled mascarpone from his finger. "Smaller version, though,"

"We're cropped out of that,"

"Yea,"

"Mark... we're cropped out of that," you needed more of a reaction from him.

"Yes."

But you didn't get it. Mark didn't seem bothered at all. Like you'd said, Mark was made of trust and had just gone and proven it once more.

"He went and had a photo printed that he then had to cut two people out of... don't you think that's weird?"

"Why would it be weird?"

"I mean, I don't know... there are so many other pictures of the two of them, why did he choose a pic that he had to cut us out of,"

Mark shrugged, said, "It's a nice photo of them," and that was that. It was a nice photo of them. It just... it bothered you. You were unable to articulate why it did, exactly.

A phone buzzed on the table, and both of you looked to see if yours was the one that was ringing. It turned out to be Mark's.

Joe was calling.

"Speaking of," Mark said, answering and bringing the phone to his ear, "Joe!"

Mark listened, then rolled his eyes at you even though you had no idea what Joe was telling him.

"How drunk?"

You couldn't help but let a huffed laugh escape you. Poppy and Joe had gone to the pub, you knew. Context clues filled you in on the situation.

"Fucking hell," Mark said and kind of slumped into your sofa more as he listened to whatever Joe was telling him. "I mean, I'd give you advice, but you've been in this situation more than I have,"

Mark was going to have to leave, wasn't he?

He suddenly laughed loudly at something Joe said, head tipped back, mouth wide open, before muttering, "Shared responsibility," softly, indicating he was repeating Joe's words back to him.

"Yea, no. All right, that's fine... see you in a bit. Keep a close eye on her, though, will you?"

Mark said it with love so evident in his voice, it made you scrunch up your eyebrows. If someone else had been there, you'd have made eye-contact with them and would've probably audibly awed.

Mark laughed again at something Joe said, then shook his head as he looked at you, like you knew what the fuck was going on.

When Mark hung up, he turned to you and without any warning said, "Let's go, we're going to the pub."

When you walked in about twenty minutes later, the place was absolutely packed.

"Go grab four beers, I'll find them," Mark said, and you asked, "Four beers? Not three beers and, I don't know, a sprite for Pop?"

"Four beers," Mark said again, holding four fingers up for emphasis before he pushed himself in between a few people and disappeared into the crowd. Off to find Poppy and Joe.

You turned towards the bar and sighed at the fact that Joe and Poppy hadn't just gone to a normal pub, but somehow, one that seemed to exclusively house an after-work-drinks sort of crowd. Most people were dressed smartly, men in suits with top buttons undone and women in pencil skirts and high heels that crossed their legs at the ankles as they held drinks against forearms that were folded over their stomachs. You were in jeans and converse and definitely felt out of place, but the atmosphere was nice. You almost couldn't hear the music over the loud chatter and the belly laughs.

Just when you thought, okay so how am I going to get these four drinks over to my friends when I don't know where they are, all three of them popped up right beside you.

And Poppy was wasted.

"Babe," she slurred as she slung both her arms around your neck the minute she laid eyes on you; eyes that were barely open and kind of crossed over, mind you.

For someone semi-posh, Poppy got sloppy alarmingly quick when alcohol entered her system. She was like you in that way.

"I love you, you know that?" Poppy sprayed into your ear loudly, voice control out of the window, and it made you wince at Mark over her shoulder.

"I'm taking her home," Mark said and that's when you noticed that Joe was trying to get one of Poppy's arms into her coat. She was still attached to you, however, so it really wasn't working out for him.

"I really do," Poppy didn't pay Joe any mind and instead evaded his hands and grabbed you by the face as she pulled back from her hug. For a second you were scared she was going to plant a fat drunk kiss right onto your face.

"Not like Mark does obviously, but I do love you, you're amazing,"

You frowned through a smile, not sure where this was coming from. Had Joe and Poppy talked about the two of you like you and Mark had talked about the two of them? That didn't sound completely out of this world. Kind of made sense, actually.

"Okay, Poppy," your frown turned into scrunched up eyebrows, but your smile remained, unwavering.

"No, listen to me," Poppy got all serious, her hands still clasping your face. She tried to make stern eye-contact, but her eyes were dancing.

"Let's go Pop," Mark interrupted, but it was like he wasn't even there.

"You're so important,"

She was so, so drunk. You could smell the liquor on her breath.

"Thanks,"

"And nice,"

You shot eyes over to Joe who quickly looked down, folding Poppy's coat over his arm, giving up on trying to get Poppy to put it on. He passed it to Mark who leant in to say something closer to his ear that you didn't catch, but Joe laughed, mouthed, "Tequila," and then held up 6 fingers. Mark groaned.

"Poppy," you moved your hands to covers hers and softly pried them off of you. "Thank you. I love you too. But, look who's waiting," you pointed a small finger over her shoulder at Mark, and Poppy seemed very annoyed which only made you laugh.

"Let's go, babe," Mark took hold of Poppy's shoulders and you saw him work to hold her up as much as he was working to guide her towards the exit. Her feet were everywhere and nowhere, just like her the aim of her eyes.

"Good luck," Joe grinned at Mark who looked back over his shoulder.

The two of you made eye-contact, and within 2 seconds of just looking at each other, you'd said goodbye and promised to call each other tomorrow, all unspoken.

"Don't let those beers to go waste," Mark nodded towards the bar where the four beers you'd just paid for still stood, waiting to be drunk.

Oh.

Immediate panic washed over you.

Mark and Poppy were leaving, which meant now you and Joe had four beers to share and... you and Joe had four beers to share.

Mark could've been smug about it. Could've made a face at you to tease, but he hadn't. Had just quickly said to drink the drinks and then turned his full attention to his fiancé who was bumping and leaning into people left, right, and center.

"You got it," Joe wasn't going to let himself be told twice and slid two glasses slightly more towards you before grabbing the other two, one drink in each hand, double fisting. It looked like Joe had also had a few drinks already, which, of course he had. Poppy hadn't been doing tequila shots on her own, you assumed.

Suddenly, your evening with Mark of bitching about Joe from the comfortability of your own sofa in your own flat had turned into an evening in a posh pub with the actual dude himself. Alone. Just the two of you in a sea of suits, button-ups and pencil skirts. The prospect of it was awful.

Who would mind two wasted beers? No one really. Certainly not you, at least. Joe could have all four if he wanted. You were about to come with a dumb excuse, a polite one, to get out of there, but before you could, Joe cleared his throat.

"So," Joe said, and you couldn't believe what you were seeing. Joe was sort of turned to you, full body language engaged and ready for a chat.

A chat.

With you.

Like normal people.

Like friends.

"Who's going to be your plus one?" Joe asked and immediately busied his mouth as he took a slow sip of beer, peering at you over the glass.

You frowned a little at his question, and then more at the way he looked. All suited up, top buttons of his shirt undone, loafers – he looked like everyone else there, fit right in amongst the office crowd even though you knew very well Joe didn't have an office job. Joe didn't know how to do water-cooler-talk, didn't know how office gossip worked. Why these after-work drinks at the pub were such an important part of working in an office. You did, or had done, but still, Joe fit in with everyone else and it was very clear that you didn't.

It made you feel inferior but also a little rebellious at the same time.

You reached for a drink for yourself, deciding that you actually would mind wasting two beers that you'd paid for and you copied Joe, taking an even slower sip than he did, buying yourself time. If this was going to happen, if you were going to have drinks and be out with Joe, you weren't going to be the first one to back out. You had said you were going to at least try to be friendly, hadn't you? And it seemed like Joe was trying, so now you had to too.

"For the wedding," Joe clarified, like you didn't understand what he originally meant.

You took long to answer, smacked your lips and looked at your glass as you lowered it, saying, "I don't think we get plus ones, Joe,"

It was Joe's turn to frown.

"Of course we do,"

"Don't think so,"

You had the wedding invitation stuck under a magnet on your fridge. Saw it every day. Nowhere did it mention a plus one for you. You assumed later because you'd been asked to be Mark's best man. You'd have actual jobs to do. Bringing a date just to leave him stranded was weird, and so it made sense to you.

"Why wouldn't we?"

Joe hadn't had the same train of thought, it turned out.

"Does your wedding invitation have a plus one on? Because mine doesn't,"

Joe thought back, eyes darting around but not really looking at anything. "I don't... I don't remember word for word exactly what the invitation said–" Joe paused abruptly and looked at you, one corner of his mouth slightly upturned. "Well, I do, of course," He didn't, but he didn't need you to know that. "But surely..."

"I think they kind of want us to focus on the jobs we've been given," you said, feeling all smug that you got to tell Joe something he didn't know yet. One-upping Joe felt stupidly good. You were in jeans! In dirty old canvas trainers!

"Oh yea," Joe quipped, and you didn't like how casual that suddenly sounded.

"Like not forgetting the rings,"

And there it was. In a reflex, you lifted your middle finger up at him and immediately realised that Joe could absolutely take full offense. You weren't people who flipped each other off for fun. You said you were to at least try to be friendly, but nothing else had really changed since your meeting over at Joe's house. You weren't suddenly people who were comfortable around each other to be mean in ways you could be mean with Mark, knowing that the bickering was never damaging but more a fun way to get actual frustrations out.

But luckily, Joe gasped a small gasp through a wide smile. No offense taken.

"I thought you said you were nice," the face Joe made almost seemed flirty.

"And you agreed," you threw right back at him. "Even told Pop about it,"

Joe didn't argue, and so you knew you were right. Joe and Poppy had talked about you and Mark.

A pause followed where you weren't sure how to continue the conversation, and the feeling of wanting to abandon the evening all together crept back in. You'd had half a beer, had said some words to each other, so you knew it'd be all right for you to now go, well, I actually have to go get going. But then, something else crossed your mind.

"Can I ask you a question?"

Joe absolutely wasn't expecting the tone switch in you, suddenly sort of serious.

"Have you thought about your speech already?"

You'd briefly mentioned it the other night, your speeches. You'd said that you would just need to make sure that the vague idea of them wouldn't be insanely different from each other. If you were just going to do a a short quick little cute speech, Joe couldn't do an insanely long one that included a whole PowerPoint presentation, or something else insane, like a song. But, you'd very quickly come to the conclusion that neither of you wanted to speak into a microphone for very long.

You wanted your speech to be heartwrenchingly beautiful though. Mark was going to fucking wail at his wedding, you'd absolutely make sure of it.

"I have," Joe said, nodded slowly, and for a second you thought, how the fuck is this guy an actor?! He was obviously lying.

"Okay..." you phrased it like a question, and a short silence followed where you both narrowed your eyes at each other, not fully trusting what wasn't said aloud. Joe was confusing you and you didn't like it.

"But we really don't get plus ones?"

You knew Poppy would have laughed at the way he said it. You didn't. You just shrugged.

"Maybe Poppy doesn't want you to bring a date, just because,"

Oof. Wrong thing to say. Insinuating all kinds of things Joe didn't appreciate, you could see it in the sudden tension in his jaw. It hit almost below the belt. You kind of meant it, though. Had that blown up framed photo of them on your mind still.

"And perhaps Mark doesn't want you to bring one for the same reason,"

You learnt the hard way that dishing it out was far easier than taking it.

That stung, like it always did when people would assume you and Mark were dating, and wouldn't believe it when you said you weren't.

It stung almost extra because you'd just thrown someone a comment you hated getting yourself, and then got it right back like you deserved. The fact that it was from someone who'd probably gotten the comment loads too made you feel even worse about it.

Served you right.

If the air between you hadn't been awkward but maybe sort of pleasant for a second, you missed it.

Slow sips from wet beer glasses were had, and you cursed yourself for not being able to just call it a night already. You were committed to win this now, even though none of this was a contest. Nothing ever was, but you were just like that. Couldn't help wanting to win at everything, especially when it came to petty shit like this. There was no way you were going to leave this pub before Joe did.

It was all awkward comments, feigned naturalness and ease, and when you finished your second beer, you hated how Joe just went and ordered another two. He kept you there and you realised he was onto you. He fucking knew you weren’t going to say no, weren’t going to be the one to back out first. You were too much like Poppy in that way, you thought, and it felt a little vulnerable. Like Joe could read you, could really see right through you, just because he knew Poppy so well.

But with alcohol in your system, you started feeling invincible. Feelings like guilt and regret took a back seat, which was dangerous.

Made you order the next round, just out of sheer spite. And you'd barely eaten - just things like cucumber and carrots with hummus and tzatziki - and started to really feel the effects of it.

Made you smile at a stranger like you shared an inside joke when he bumped into Joe and made him spill some of his drink.

Made you ask stupid questions, like why Joe had a cropped photo of him and Poppy framed in his hallway.

"I don't know if you've fully understood the situation, but I can explain it in simpler words, if you'd like?"

Patronising. Joe spoke to you like you were an idiot.

"I am friends with Poppy, and have been friends with her for a looong time. We're family, and sometimes it's nice to have photographs of family up on your walls. Some people think so, at least,"

So very patronising, it was honestly insulting. He was also missing the point. Didn't understand what you meant. He probably wouldn't, even if you explained it, you thought, so you left it alone.

"It's okay if you don't get it," Joe looked down his glass before adding, "if you don't have that same sort of bond with Mark, I don't expect you to understand," and taking a sip.

Too far.

You were getting too intoxicated to just... take shit like this.

"Oh you wouldn't fucking know what friendship was if it stared you right in the face," you challenged.

For a second tonight had been about proving to each other that your friendship with you best friends didn't cross any inappropriate boundaries. Now, however, it was suddenly all about proving to Joe that your friendship with Mark outweighed his friendship with Poppy.

Joe had no fucking idea how bonded you and Mark were.

How you'd gone through absolutely shit in your teens, and how Mark had managed to haul you through, pulling you out at the other end with a lot less scars than you'd imagined beforehand.

How you'd spent years not thinking you'd live past your teens, battered and bruised from trusting people you were told time and time again you could trust. Had to trust. But should've never trusted. How Mark was the one who'd held out a friendly hand and had proven to you time and time again that men sometimes didn't want all the things you weren't ready to give. Weren't willing to hand over.

How Mark had fixed parts of you which you'd redeemed unfixable until he'd gotten all up in there.

How Mark was solely responsible for your strong belief in the power of kindness. The power of true friendship. The platonic soulmates type of shit.

Joe had no fucking idea. And so you told him again, "You wouldn't even fucking recognise it,"

Joe was about to fight you on it, but he felt something had shifted. Saw something in your expression, in your eyes, that made him swallow his words whole.

Joe saw something that made him believe you on your word. Maybe his friendship with Poppy was a small tiny thing in comparison.

"I'm sorry," Joe's features softened immediately upon the sight of you, and it was all kinds of wrong.

Somehow everything felt unfair all of the sudden.

You needed to leave.

Needed to be polite and thank Joe for the lovely evening all sarcastically and leave without a good excuse to do so. Just, get out.

Away from Joe who didn't understand. Who made fun. Who judged. And who was he to fucking talk?

When you hurridly turned, intending to run, Joe gently reached and touched your upper arm. Strong fingers, but somehow a soft touch.

"I need to leave," you said, and without saying anything else, Joe let you go and let you walk out.

No questions asked.

No goodbye from either of you.

—

The Taglisted:

@ghostinthebackofyourhead @dirtyeddietini @jasminearondottir @josephquinned @cancankiki @sidthedollface2 @dylanmunson @munsonsgirl71 @thefemininemystiquee @alana4610 @emmamooney @thatonefan-girl @paola-carter @figmentofquinn @haylaansmi @thewondernanazombie @munsonmunster @kellysimagines @mybffjoe @chaoticgood-munson @sherrylyn628 @bdpst-massacre @05secondsofsexgods @lovelyblueness @adoreyouusugar @nadixq @prozacandnicotine @munsonswhore86 @alwayslindie @breddiemunson @eddie-joe-munson @ali-in-w0nderland @pepperstories @phyllosilicate-s @thebellenouvelle @luvrsbian @joesquinns @choke-me-joey @alizztor @jnnyrd @did-it-work @capricornrisingsstuff @quinnsbower @frogers @kennedy-brooke @daleyeahson @eddielives1986 @harringtonfan4 @sadbitchfangirl

(taglist currently full, sorry)

#Joe Quinn #Joseph Quinn #Joe Quinn x You #Joseph Quinn x You #Joe Quinn x Reader #Joseph Quinn x Reader #Joe Quinn Fanfic #Joe Quinn fanfiction #Joseph Quinn Fanfic #Joseph Quinn Fanfiction #rpf #icallhimjoey #To Have And To Scold #part 3

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orangflowalober · 10 months ago

Text

I need a hero (isn't there a white knight upon a fiery steed?)!

Pairing: Park Sunghoon x Reader

Genre: superhero, crack, action, damsel in distress!sunghoon, alien!superhero!reader

Summary: in the middle of their New York concert, ENHYPEN's Sunghoon gets snatched right off the stage and put into a hostage situation. the situation is dire and he needs a hero to save him. Starburst to the rescue!

Word count: 683

Warnings: kidnapping, mentions of injuries, high-stress situations, anxiety, implications of rope burning

A/n: can i even be blamed for thinking of damsel in distress!sunghoon? like... hes so bbg... this fic was written in honour of my new followers as thanks <3 also writing that chivalric romance thing deffo brought back some not-so-nice memories and yes the title was inspired by "I need a hero" by Bonnie Tyler; btw, the italicized words are in Korean!

Sunghoon was having the time of his life at the concert. He really was.

But then he got kidnapped and that wasn't really fun. It was even less fun when they tied his arms and legs so tightly he could feel his blood circulation slowly stopping.

It didn't help that apparently this was the work of one of his saesangs who hired a bunch of super powered crooks to kidnap him and take him to...

He sighed.

The boys must be worried sick... he stressed, while attempting to understand what this psychopathic woman was trying to say. He was having a hard time understanding her because she was speaking in an unsettling mix of English and broken Korean. He was sure even Jake or Jay would have a hard time understanding her.

His hands hurt. They had pulled them back behind the backrest and his muscles screamed from being in the same position for so long.

One by one, the crooks left the room leaving him alone with the saesang and he didn't have to have crazy knowledge of English to understand what she said before she left too.

"I will be back soon my love..." she whispered, her long fingers curling around his neck, before she finally left him alone.

He let out a breath he didn't know he was holding when she finally left.

Although, saying that the place he was in was a room was... a bit of a stretch. They were, after all, in the sewers of New York.

Sunghoon took a deep breath in order to calm down. That, unfortunately, didn't help much because he was in the sewers of one of the biggest cities in the world and the smell was far from pleasant.

Out of nowhere, a metallic hand clamped over his mouth making him stiffen up with panic.

He almost called out for his captors. Almost.

"Shh..." a soft voice shushed him and he slowly forced his body to uncoil, "I'm here to get you out of here" it whispered as the hand was retracting from its place against his mouth and Sunghoon took in a stuttering breath.

He could hear his captors arguing from the other side of the wall.

Slowly, he turned to face what would hopefully be his saviour and the most stupid thing he could have thought of left his mouth.

"You speak Korean?"

The woman releasing him had a faint smile on her face at his frankly idiotic question.

"I don't," she told him and he felt her hand resting between his own: right against the rope, "the technology in my armour allows people to hear their language of choice."

While the smell smoke invaded his senses, Sunghoon assessed the woman.

She was certainly one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen. However, while he knew people told him he was beautiful in a princely way, this woman was beautiful in an otherworldly way. She also wore a silver suit of armour like the knights in those old western tales of chivalry.

All of a sudden, his hands fell free from their binds and Sunghoon felt like a weight fell right of his chest.

"Wow..." he awed.

The woman winked at him as she spoke;

"Stay here until I deal with those kidnappers of yours. Don't worry, Starburst's got this~!"

Sunghoon must have passed out when she left, because the next thing he knew, he was standing in front of a shit ton of photographers, looking like shit and being unable to understand what they were saying on top of being unable to find a way out of the situation.

"Sorry boys," the voice from earlier, Starburst, Sunghoon reminded himself, "I have to ship this bad boy off to his hotel, mind giving us some space?"

What ever she had said, it made the reporters lose their mind, but then someone picked him bridal style and he was off in the air.

Well. If it had to do with saving like this, Sunghoon thought he could do with being rescued by his knight in shining armour some more.

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

My dearest girls: @ch3rryc0smos & @janaicetea

if anyone wants to be a part of the taglist send an ask <3

#park sunghoon #sunghoon #enhypen #enhypen sunghoon #enhypen x reader #enhypen x female reader #enhypen x you #sunghoon x reader #sunghoon x you #sunghoon imagines #❄️.works.#❄️.fics.

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travalerray · 10 months ago

Note

Chengxian for the ask game?

thanks for the ask!

Well you know. This goes without saying.

What made you ship it?

Since I started with the donghua, I would say the hyperspecific scene in the Xuanwu Cave right after Wei Wuxian has gotten branded and everyone's going "fuuuuck", and Chengxian exchange a very meaningful look and Wei Wuxian says, "I have gotten hurt in Lotus Pier before too. When have I not swim the fastest?". The way they looked at each other altered my brain chemicals <3. (Also yes, lmao, the donghua is very funny because it decides to make Jiang Cheng this mega softie in the first flashback and even adds this extra dialogue during the Waterborne Abyss where they are fighting the water ghouls where he tells Wei Wuxian "we have got it" when in the novel Wei Wuxian's narration is like "as usual, Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian were competing". Heartbreaking how they completely dropped the ball after the XiYao conversation in S2 E1). The one that did solidify my stance is the famous choking-crying scene because......yeah, I won't say it. It is always heart breaking to see children lashing out in the moments of grief, especially this one that highlights how they deal with it—Jiang Cheng angry and lashing out, Wei Wuxian putting a hand over his eyes, both not wanting to show that they are crying, the rain starting—the cinematography is beautiful.

What are your favorite things about the ship?

*gestures* Everything.

It's about the grouchy "why do you have to always play a hero (for the others, just be mine)" as an act of love, it's about walking away as an act of protection (duty is the death of love, honour is the death of love), it's about the mourning for thirteen years, it's about missing your home no matter where you go, no matter who you are with (because it can never be enough—it's always a convenient excuse), it's about acts of self sacrifice as a love language, it's about the "raging ecstasy" and "vengeful wrath" when faced with your childhood "sweetheart", it's about broken promises, it's about childhood dreams and always wanting to stay together and failing always. But most importantly, it's about a lot of yearning disguised as angry barking (Jiang Cheng) and joking around (Wei Wuxian).

It's also about how no matter what Wei Wuxian is narrating, Jiang Cheng filters into his thoughts. Oh, the kids are flying a kite? Jiang Cheng is there. Wei Wuxian is eating? Jiang Cheng is there. The reverse is true too—they are too intimately connected and impossible to be separated.

Above all, it's about Jiang Cheng bringing Chenqing to the Guanyin Temple in perfect condition and throwing it to Wei Wuxian. Above all, it's about Jin Ling being threatened and in that brief moment of confusion, they start yelling at each other, using "the same voice they used as children".

Is there an unpopular opinion you have on your ship?

I don't think I know enough about the popular opinions to say? Considering the popular opinion people have going on half the time involves arguing on how much Jiang Cheng's actions were justified (what did he do. He didn't do a single thing until Jin Zixuan died and we see him at the Pledge Rally and he doesn't even get REALLY upset until Jiang Yanli dies. Is the problem with the fake duel??? Which is admittedly something you would only see these two come up with, because yes, the only way to avoid a problem is to publicly fall out with your martial brother. But I have never seen anyone express a problem with this detective novel levels of drama, so maybe it's the first siege???) but I don't think most of the shippers have a problem with that? But if this question means unpopular opinion in general, well—Chengxian is an unpopular opinion in general, I think. But otherwise, I will leave this line here:

[there's so much he could be talking about here. Come back Wei Wuxian. Why is it so purposeful. Hello. "I don't want to"? Wei Wuxian????]

#kk's ask tag #mdzs #grandmaster of demonic cultivation #mo dao zu shi #wei wuxian #jiang cheng #chengxian #edit: I rewatched the Xuanwu episode and it turns out that my memory is in fact cosmically bad

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fictionalmenxyn · 2 years ago

Text

College Life, pt.3

Summary: Y/n shears a dorm room/apartment with the one and only Ghost one of the top three best players in rugby. Although he’s quiet he’s quite popular and well known, you aren’t so much. You two have been very close since Ghost made the first move but does Ghost what to take things further?

Female reader

¡LAST PART!

The word ‘hooker’ word is mentioned in this but it’s not in the rude way. It is a name of a position in rugby. Don’t believe me google it.

Tw: contact sport (no injuries), language and if there is anymore plz text me and let me know! :)

While walking home, you had decided to stop by the shop a few minutes away from your apartment. Walking in you pulled out the list you had remembered to bring with you, out of your pocket. Going up and down isles you grabbed everything you needed.

Now back in your apartment, you walked over towards the kitchen and placed the bags onto the island and started to put away all the food and drinks you had bought. Once you had done that you walked over to the coffee table and placed your bag onto it. Turning on the tv, you played your music as you pulled out your sketch book and pencils including your colouring pencils and started to work on the rugby badge design.

It’s been a while since you got home. Looking at your watch you saw a text pop up on there, it was from Ghost. He had sent ‘hey, I’m on my way back now x’ you sent a reply ‘ok, almost finished a logo idea! 👍’ and you started to finish up the last idea of the logo.

Hearing the keys move in the door, you looked up and watched as Ghost appeared into the apartment. He spoke “hey, how are you doing? Love?” You blushed a tad at the pet name then you replied “good, how are you?” He replied “better now, that I’m out of that shit hole” you both laughed as he started to put away his drink from his bag and his books. Minutes later he sat on the floor next to you and asked “how are they coming along?” You answered “really good take a look” he looked at them and said “these are amazing, you still up for later?” You nodded…

Time skip

Later in the day, you were in your room getting ready. You grabbed some warmer clothes and your boots as you grabbed a bobble hat and walked outside of your room. You saw Ghost getting ready, he was back and forth his room and the kitchen grabbing what he needed and you stayed out of the way.

Once he was ready he spoke “you ready to go?” You nodded and spoke “thought it was at 4:30?” He spoke “yeah but us players go early so we can train a bit” you nodded and he used your words “you learn something new everyday” you giggled at him remembering what you had told him earlier.

You both walk over to his grey sporty car and both get in. He started up the car and started to head over to the field. In the car you listened to music as you watched people walk on the pavement (sidewalk) as you drove by.

Now at the grounds, you got out of the car and asked Ghost “where do I go now? Cause I’m certainly not going in the changing rooms” he chuckled and spoke “just wait outside them, could you mind my phone and stuff while I change?” You smiled and nodded holding your hands out as he gave you his keys and phone.

Waiting by the changing rooms you greeted some of the boys you knew and wished them luck for the game. Once Ghost walked out he grabbed the stuff off of you and passed you his rugby hoodie and suggested “you should put that on, you’ll get cold just standing at the sidelines” you didn’t argue. So you threw on the hoodie with his initials underneath the badge ‘S.R’ you felt proud for some reason. You felt comfortable and honoured to wear thee Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley’s hoodie and especially his rugby one.

Walking over to the pitch, you spoke “do you want me to mind your stuff? Like your water?” He nodded and handed everything over to you. He playfully placed a hand on top of your head and gently shook it and said “thanks, Y/n” you smiled at the playfulness and spoke “go train” he nodded and jogged over to his coach and team mates.

After training and everyone starting to arrive you watched as the team headed over to your direction considering your by the teams water since o/f/n (other friend) was helping the team as their brother played for them. You chatted to them and then heard the boys walking over as they all talked about the other team, their rivals. You handed Ghost his water and waited for him to hand it back over. Once he did you gestured him to come closer. You spoke “I wish you the best of luck, Si” lucky for him his mask covered his blushing face as you called him Si. He spoke “thanks, love” he pressed his forehead against yours as a sweet gesture.

Time skip (it’d be borking if I explained a whole game of rugby)

It was the last minute of the game and Ghost’s team was tied with the other team. But lucky for Ghost’s team was they were given an advantage and had a line out at the 10 yard line, which is by the try (score) line. The hooker threw the ball to the person who was being lifted and they then passed it to the scrum half (no.9) and he being Soap paused it along to Gaz and it made its way down to Alejandro before he got tackled. After the quick ruck the ball was passed to Ghost and he had been able to side step two players and tried the wining try.

Everyone was ecstatic and cheering loudly. You headed the whistle blow as the game had now ended. You watched the team celebrate and then head over to you and your friend. Ghost ran over and picked you up surprisingly and spun you around out of excitement. You laughed as he put you down and you said “congrats!” He spoke “your now my good luck charm” you both laughed as the boys hydrated themselves before walking towards the changing rooms.

Now standing outside the changing rooms, you congratulated all the members as they exited the changing rooms and headed towards the pub for food.

Ghost walked out and spoke “come on, charm, let’s go grab some grub” you smiled and followed him. He spoke “when we get in the car I got to ask you something” you nodded as you opened the door. Getting in, he buckled himself up and spoke “ok, so uh I don’t know how to say this” you spoke “take you time if you need to don’t overthink it” he spoke “so.. I have been liking you for a while now since we became closer and I was wondering.. would you like to be my girlfriend? You don’t have too if you don’t like me but I was just wondering?” You felt over the moon. You spoke “of course, I really like you too!” He lifted his mask a little and asked “can I kiss you?” You smiled and closed the gap as you do kissed passionately as if you two only had a few seconds left to live.

Pulling away you spoke “come on! We need to celebrate!” He chuckled and started to drive towards the pub. Once he got there he put the car in park and turned it off. Getting out you looked over to Ghost as you watched him stick his hand out for you to grab. Gladly excepting it you held hand as you crossed the road and headed into the pub.

Walking in Ghost spoke “come on, let’s get some food” you nodded as the two of you headed downstairs and towards the kitchen area. Ghost had gave you a carton of chips and a sausage, you grabbed some bread and handed it to Ghost and then grabbed some for yourself. Grabbing everything you both headed upstairs and towards the bar area.

Seeing all the team and their friends or family you both sat with Soap, Gaz, Price and Alejandro. You looked around and asked “hey Alejandro, where’s Rudy?” He replied “went to the toilet” you nodded as you sat next to Ghost. You all tucked in as you talked and ate.

Ghost asked “anyone want a drink, while we go up?” You stood up and grabbed your phone. Walking over to the bar Ghost was behind you not shortly after. You spoke “hi, could I get a Pepsi, please?” The lady nodded behind the bar and told you the price so you used your phone and then grabbed your drink. Then Ghost ordered some drinks since some of the lads wanted some.

After a while you all decided to call it at day and headed home. You held Ghost’s hand as you both walked over to the car. You asked “how many drinks have you had?” He thought for a second and replied “four?” You heard the hint of question in that so you spoke “nope, your not driving, hand over the keys tough guy!” You both chuckled as he surrendered his keys and got in the passenger seat.

On the way home you talked about the game and how entertaining it looked and how well he and his teammates played. But also the whole time he hand a hand on your thigh, comfortable for the both of you.

Getting in you watched as Ghost practically threw himself onto the sofa. You laughed at the sight, you spoke “so I’m thinking, how about a movie night?” He spoke “yeah, I agree” you spoke “ok go out comfy clothes on, I’m going to do that then grab some popcorn” he nodded.

Now sat down in your comfy clothes you both watched movies all night long till you both fell asleep together in each others brace under nice comfy blankets, doing the things you both dreamed of doing together.

Hope you enjoyed!

Like always if you want me to write something make sure to message me or request it!

Have a good day/night! 🫶

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