#I just wrote a lot very quickly oops… | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

wonderlandwalker · 3 months ago

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Two can play (but three's more fun)

𝐧𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 / 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐭��𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 / 𝐢𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐱

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: steve harrington x reader x eddie munson 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 5.2k 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: when Steve catches Eddie staring a little too long at his girlfriend, he doesn’t throw a punch—he extends an invitation. And as Eddie quickly learns, Steve doesn’t just share; he teaches, with slow, filthy demonstrations. 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: smut, just pure filth really, posessive steve, desperate eddie, a lot of swearing, I couldn't help it, maybe some repetitive words but smut vocabulary just has it's limits

𝐚/𝐧: I got insanely stoned and wrote this so if it came out too horny i'm sorry, also im ovulating oops. I've prolly been very inconsistent with grammar tenses but I can't be bothered to check it. I usually correct my grammar after i've already posted so the masterlist link has significantly less errors than earlier versions

The living room was bathed in the flickering glow of the TV, some forgotten horror movie playing on low volume—The Thing, maybe, or was it Halloween?—its eerie soundtrack warping under the weight of the thick, sweet-smelling haze curling through the air.

Eddie had outdone himself with this new strain, something sticky and potent that left his limbs heavy and his usual sharp edges dulled into something languid and warm, his thoughts perhaps a bit too syrupy.

“—I know I talk a big game, man, but fuck. I have no clue what I’m doing when it actually comes down to it.”

His voice was a low mumble, words slipping out like he hadn’t meant to say them at all. He tipped his head back against the couch cushions, staring at the ceiling as if it might hold answers.

Steve blinks at him, slow and rhythmically, before snorting. “What, like… at all?”

“Yeah, man. Like—” Eddie waves a hand vaguely, the silver of his rings glinting as he moves. “How the fuck am I supposed to know what sounds are real and which ones are fake? It’s fucking Russian roulette.”

The next reaction from Steve is immediate, no hesitation. Just a lazy, knowing smirk as he stretches his arms behind his head. “Huh. Well, once you know the difference, it becomes pretty obvious.” He pauses, just long enough to take a quick glance over Eddie’s face. “If you really need some pointers, I can ask my girlfriend if she wants to help you out.”

Eddie nearly comes crashing to the fucking floor.

Because fuck. He’s had a crush on you for, like, forever. Not that he’s ever admitted it out loud — not when Steve Harrington has a reputation for rearranging the faces of guys who so much as look at you wrong. Eddie has seen it happen: some poor asshole at a party, fingers skimming your ass as you passed, and bam — Steve’s fist in his jaw before anyone could blink. There’s even a rumour some other idiot once stared just a little too long at the way your lips wrapped around the neck of your beer bottle and then slurred, “Wanna spin the bottle?” Word is, Steve dropped him in one hit. No warning. No theatrics. Just pure, primal instinct.

So yeah, Eddie’s kept his mouth shut.

But now? Now Steve is watching him with this lazy, half-lidded expression, like he hadn’t just detonated a goddamn bomb in Eddie’s head.

“You’re fucking with me.” Eddie pleads, his voice rough.

Steve just grins — slow, deliberate — his eyes dark with something Eddie can't name. “Nah, man. She’s actually really into that kinda stuff.” His voice drops, gravel scraping over each word, and Eddie’s stomach flips “And I’d do anything for her.”

The air feels thick as Eddie’s pulse roars in his ears, his throat suddenly bone-dry. Was this a test? A trap? Christ. Harrington was going to be the death of him, and worse—Eddie knew he’d fucking thank him for it.

His fingers twitch at his sides. “...Yeah?”

Steve’s smile only widens, but his eyes soften. “Yeah.”

When Eddie shows up at your place the next night, he’s strung tight enough to power Hawkins twice over, his pulse hammering in his throat. He’s spent the last twenty-four hours convincing himself he’d imagined the whole conversation, that there was no way Steve Harrington just offered—

And then you open the door.

Dressed in nothing but one of Steve’s old band tees, the fabric riding high on your thighs, you greet him with a smile that damn near stops his heart. “Hey, Eddie.”

His mouth goes dry. And before he can choke out a response, Steve is behind you, hands sliding possessively around your waist, pulling you back against his chest. And then — Jesus Christ.

The kiss Steve gives you isn’t just heated — it’s filthy. All tongue and teeth, your fingers twisting in his hair as he backs you against the doorframe, his hands already under your shirt like it’s a regular Tuesday afternoon.

Eddie’s knees nearly give out.

“Watch,” Steve murmurs against your lips when he finally breaks away, his gaze flicking to Eddie over your shoulder. His voice dark and commanding. “And pay attention.”

Then, right there in the doorway, Steve pulls the shirt over your head — meticulously slow, like he wants Eddie to memorise every second. And, well — Eddie does.

He memorises the way your breath hitches when Steve’s fingers brush over your ribs, the way you arch into his touch, the soft, real sounds spilling from your lips as Steve’s mouth finds the top of your breasts—

Eddie’s throat protests as he swallows, fingers twitching at his sides like he can’t decide whether to bolt or drop to his knees.

Steve notices —of course he does— and his lips curl into something dangerously close to a challenge. “You just going to stand there, Munson?” His hands slide down your hips, squeezing just hard enough to make you softly gasp. “Thought you wanted to learn.” Eddie manages to get control over his brain just long enough to answer “I— Yeah. Fuck. Yeah. I do.”

Steve hums, pleased, and spins you around to face Eddie fully, his palm splayed possessively over your stomach. “Then get over here.”

It’s not a request.

Eddie moves like a man in a trance, close enough now to feel the heat of your skin, to catch the intoxicating scent of your perfume. His gaze darts between your face and Steve’s fingers tracing slow, deliberate circles over your collarbone.

“First lesson,” Steve murmurs, leaning in to nip at your earlobe. “Don’t just touch. Listen.” His free hand reaches out, grabbing Eddie’s wrist and dragging it toward you. “Feel how she reacts.”

Eddie’s fingertips brush your waist—hesitant at first, then firmer when you shiver under his touch. His breath hitches as you lean into him, lashes fluttering when his thumb grazes the delicate curve of your ribs.

“Good.” Steve’s voice is low, eyes locked on Eddie’s every twitch. “Now kiss her.”

Eddie’s head jerks up. “What?”

Steve’s grin is all teeth. “Unless you don’t—”

“No, I—fuck.” He surges forward, crashing his mouth against yours like a man starved. It’s messy and desperate, and he barely gets a taste before Steve yanks you back by the waist, eyebrows furrowed in disapproval.

“Jesus Christ. Not like that.”

Eddie stumbles after you as Steve kicks the door shut behind them. “It’s like you were raised by wolves.”

Eddie opens his mouth to protest—then snaps it shut. Because Steve’s right. He’s a wreck.

“What are you waiting for, a written invitation?” Steve’s voice is rough with impatience. “Kiss her again.”

Eddie hesitates—just for a second—before lust wins the war. This time, when his lips find yours, it’s still hungry, but it’s also aware, his movements more controlled. For a heartbeat, he’s terrified Steve will deem him unworthy of you altogether and kick him back to the curb—until you moan into it, until your fists twist in his shirt and drag him closer.

Steve groans in approval against your shoulder. “That’s it,” he rasps, pressing you forward just enough that Eddie can feel your heartbeat against his chest. “Now slow down. Make her want it.”

Eddie whimpers, but obeys, pulling back just enough to tease your lower lip between his teeth before licking into your mouth like you’re water and he’s been dying of thirst.

The sound you make — the soft, wanting whine—it's the hottest thing he’s ever heard. Steve pulls you back again, but this time, there’s satisfaction in his grin. “See?” His thumb swipes over your kiss-swollen lips, smug. “She likes it when you take your time.”

Steve doesn’t let go of you—not really. Even as he nudges you toward the couch, his palm stays glued to the small of your back, steering you like he owns every inch of space you move through. Eddie doesn’t need to be told to follow; his pulse hammers in his throat, fingers flexing like he’s already imagining the weight of you beneath them.

“Sit.” Steve’s order cracks through the air, and Eddie drops onto an armchair like his strings have been cut.

You don’t get the chance to join him. Steve catches your wrist, yanking you back against his chest instead. His mouth brushes your ear, voice a low, possessive hum: “Nah, sweetheart. You’re staying right here.” His fingers trail down your arm before guiding your hand to Eddie’s jaw. “Let him earn it.”

Eddie’s breath stutters. Christ. Up close, you’re devastating. The way your eyes shimmer with pure lust, the way your lips part—just slightly—when Steve’s fingers skim over the lace of your bra. The syrupy moan you let out when he pinches your nipple over it, just enough to make your back arch—

“See that?” Steve’s voice is rough against your ear. “She gets loud when she’s turned on. You just have to know how to listen.” Eddie nods, swallowing hard. His hands hover over your hips like he’s afraid you’ll dissolve under his touch. Steve rolls his eyes.

“Jesus, Munson. You’re not going to break her.” He grabs Eddie’s wrist, pressing his palm flat against your stomach. “Feel how warm she is? How fucking desperate?”

Eddie’s fingers twitch. He can feel it—the rapid rise and fall of your breath, the way your skin burns under his touch.

“Now”, Steve murmurs, lips grazing your shoulder, “show me what you’ve learned.”

Eddie doesn’t need to be told twice.

This time, when he kisses you, it’s relaxed—calculated. He licks into your mouth like he’s savouring it, one hand sliding up your ribs while the other tangles in your hair. And when you moan, when your hips jerk forward like you just can’t help it, Eddie groans against your lips like he’s just discovered fucking religion.

Steve watches, eyes dark with approval. “Better,” he rasps. Then, with a smirk: “Now get on your knees.”

Eddie freezes, and Steve arches a brow,“got a problem?”

“No—fuck, no.” Eddie’s already sliding to the floor, knees hitting the carpet with a thud. His hands find your thighs, gripping just tight enough to feel the muscle tense under his fingers.

Steve’s smirk widens. “Good.”

The praise goes straight to Eddie’s dick.

You thread your fingers through his hair, tugging just enough to make him gasp—and God, Eddie’s never been so hard in his life.

Steve’s voice is a murmur as he trails a path down your throat, bruises already blooming under his mouth. “Now, make her beg.”

Eddie’s breathing is ragged as he looks up at you—fuck, the way your pupils are blown wide, the way your chest rises with every shaky inhale. Steve’s fingers are still tangled in your hair, his thumb brushing a stray strand behind your ear with a tenderness that feels domestic. Your eyes meet Eddie’s just before they flutter shut, and it’s all the permission he needs. His mouth finds the inside of your knee first, lips dragging slow and hot up your skin, teeth grazing just enough to make you squirm. Steve hums, tracing your ribs and sliding your bra strap down your shoulder. His palm cups your breast as it spills free, kneading with a lazy possessiveness that has your hips jerking forward — but Eddie holds you steady, determined.

His tongue traces past the waistband of your panties like he’s trying to memorise the shape of you, and when his eyes flick up to Steve, all he finds is lust, raw and unfiltered. So Eddie hooks his fingers into the fabric and pulls, dragging it down your legs as he kisses a trail after it, reverent even in his hunger. His fingers work you with surprising precision, his gaze desperate for approval — and when he curls them just right, you gasp, arching into his touch with a moan loud enough to make Steve’s smirk falter. He wasn’t expecting that.

The slip in Steve’s control sends a thrill through Eddie, and he murmurs against your thigh, voice rough: “You sound so fucking sweet — bet you taste even better.” Steve’s grip tightens on your hip, hard enough to bruise, but you don’t seem to mind.

He’d meant to teach. Now, he’s learning.

And the way you’re unravelling under Eddie’s touch stirs something awake inside of him. Eddie’s got a musician’s dexterity, his fingers able to coax sinful melodies from you with every twist. When you whimper Eddie’s name, Steve’s jaw clenches, but he doesn’t stop him. Just watches with a gaze darker than the midnight sky itself as Eddie’s breath ghosts over you, your thighs trembling. “Please—”

The word barely leaves your lips before Eddie adds another finger, crooking them until your thighs squeeze around his wrist. He groans against your skin, resting his forehead against your leg as the vibration tears another broken sound from your throat. He fucks you with his fingers — slow and deep, then fast and relentless, like he can’t decide whether to savour you or ruin you.

Eddie, drunk on your praise, dares to glance up at Steve with a smirk. Steve’s nostrils flare, but instead of shutting him down, he drags a thumb over your cheek and growls, “You gonna cum for him?” You can’t even answer. Your back arches, toes curling, and Eddie drinks it in like it’s the only thing keeping him alive. The moment you shatter, he loses it. He’s not sure what destroys him more — the way you choke out his name, begging him not to stop, or the filthy, approving rumble of Steve’s voice as he speaks, “Good girl.”

Eddie finds himself at an impasse, torn between begging for more and staying silent as the two of you decide his fate. His fingers twitch where they grip your thighs, his breath ragged, his entire body coiled tight with anticipation—and fear. Steve detaches himself from nipping at your collarbone when Eddie wavers, his movements faltering. A reprimand flashes in Steve’s darkened gaze, sharp enough to make Eddie shudder again. “Didn’t you hear her, Munson?” Steve’s voice is a low, warning growl. “She told you not to stop.”

But Eddie freezes. The reality of where he is—what he’s doing—hits him like a freight train. He has no idea how to continue.

But Steve doesn’t tolerate hesitation. His hand fists in Eddie’s hair, yanking him forward with a rough, “Stop thinking.”

Eddie obeys like a man possessed, and the moment his tongue drags over you, his whole body jerks—holy shit. You taste even better than he could’ve dared to dream. Sweet, addictive, and the way you gasp when he flicks his tongue over your clit? He’s ruined. Forever.

Drunk on you—on the way your fingers tighten in his hair, the way you’re so wet it’s coating your thighs—he laps at you like his life depends on it. Steve watches with drowsy satisfaction, his palm sliding possessively up your stomach to cup your breast, thumb rolling over your nipple just to hear you whimper for him again.

“Listen to how she sounds when you do it right,” Steve murmurs, voice thick with contentment. “Isn’t it the most beautiful sound in the world?” He doesn’t wait for Eddie to answer. Instead, he tilts your jaw toward him, locking you in a searing kiss. You moan into Steve’s mouth as Eddie continues, his tongue relentless, his own desperate noises vibrating against you. Steve chuckles darkly when Eddie whimpers, his cock straining against his jeans just from tasting you. He hasn’t even touched himself, but he’s so close he’s shaking.

“Are you going to come just from this, Munson?” Steve drags him off you by his hair, grinning at the dazed, wrecked look on Eddie’s face. “Fuck, look at him, darling. He’s a mess.” Eddie’s lips are slick, his chest heaving, his pupils blown so wide his eyes look black. Steve doesn’t give him a chance to recover. He pushes Eddie back into the armchair, his grip firm, dominant. Then he guides you onto the couch with a smirk.

“You did good,” he tells Eddie, voice dripping with condescension. “Now let me show you great.”

Steve doesn’t waste time. In one smooth motion, he hooks his hands under your knees, spreading you wide —putting you on display— before dragging you to the edge of the couch. His gaze locks onto Eddie’s, making sure he’s watching as he leans down and presses an open-mouthed kiss to your inner thigh, a shudder running through you at the sensation. “See how she shivers?” Steve murmurs, his breath hot against your skin, laced with something Eddie can only describe as devotion. “It’s because she knows what’s coming—” Then he devours you.

Unlike Eddie’s frantic, eager strokes, Steve’s tongue moves with precision — deliberate, decisive licks that have you arching off the couch within seconds. He teases you, circling your clit until you’re gasping, then he pulls back with a cruel smirk.

“Steve—” you whine, fingers scrambling at his hair. “Patience, sweetheart,” he muses — before sucking your clit between his lips, hard. Your cry echoes through the room, and Eddie’s hands clench into fists, his hips jerking helplessly as you overwhelm his senses without even touching him. Steve doesn’t let up; he works you with his mouth until your thighs tremble, until your moans grow longer and heavy, until you’re right there—, and he pulls away.

“No, no, baby, please—” you beg, but Steve just clicks his tongue, amused, sliding two fingers into you without warning. “Look at her, Munson,” he orders, curling his fingers just right, making you sob beneath him. “This is how you give her what she deserves.” His thrusts are ruthless, his palm grinding against your clit with every movement. You’re a writhing, whimpering mess, your nails digging into Steve’s shoulders as he fucks you on his fingers, his eyes locked onto Eddie’s the entire time.

“She’s close,” Steve taunts — he doesn’t even need to look at you to know, too busy watching the way Eddie’s jaw clenches. “You want to see what happens when she comes on my hand?” Eddie can’t even speak. He just nods, frantic. Steve smiles wickedly and makes do with the response. “Then watch closely.”

He crooks his fingers again, pressing deeper, and you don’t just shatter — you explode. Your back bows like you’re possessed, broken screams tearing from your throat as you squirt, and Eddie swears he’s seeing stars. Your hand finds Steve’s bicep, clinging desperately, like you’re afraid he’ll stop. Eddie can’t look away; he doesn’t dare blink — if he misses a single second of this, he’ll never forgive himself.

Steve works you through it, drawing out every last spasm until tears streak your face, until you’re oversensitive, trying to squirm away. Only then does he finally relent, licking his fingers with a satisfied hum before brushing featherlight kisses up to your neck. The moment you feel his proximity, you meet him in a kiss — not heated like before, but purposeful, delicate, like Steve is guiding you back to reality with it. He doesn’t rush you; he just lets your fingers weave through his hair until your breathing steadies. Then, he speaks again. “That”, he says, “is how it’s done.” He meets Eddie’s stunned gaze. “You shouldn’t even be thinking about getting your dick wet until she’s clenching around nothing.”

Eddie’s so hard it hurts. His cock throbs against his jeans, neglected and aching, precum soaking the fabric. He’s never been this turned on in his life—and the worst part? Steve knows it. The bastard smirks, dragging a thumb over your lower lip. You suck it in eagerly, tongue swirling, before he pulls away and stands. It’s a fucking performance. Steve undoes his belt like he’s savouring the way Eddie’s eyes cling to his hands, the leather slipping free with a final, damning shush. You whimper, still boneless from your orgasm, but your eyes flutter open when Steve’s palm slides up your thigh, squeezing. “Please, Steve?” you breathe, and his grin turns feral. “Not yet, love.” He glances at Eddie, whose throat bobs under the weight of his stare. “Munson hasn’t earned it yet.”

Eddie’s stomach drops. Fuck. He’s dripping in his pants, his hips twitching like a fucking teenager, and Steve’s going to make him wait? But then—

Steve grips Eddie’s chin, forcing his gaze up. “You want her?” he asks, voice rough. Eddie nods, greedy. “Then prove you can take care of her.” And just like that, Steve shoves him onto the couch with you. “Do it like I showed you.”

For a heartbeat, Eddie can only stare—at the way your breath hitches when he touches you, at the way your eyes lock on Steve, who’s sprawled in the armchair like it’s a fucking throne, lazily stroking his cock. Your lips part, and Eddie swears he sees your mouth water—fuck, it’s obscene. His hands tremble as he touches you—really touches you—this time. His mouth finds your thigh, kissing up the sensitive skin, trying to mimic the way Steve had worshipped you earlier. But when his tongue drags over you, your breath catches—wrong—and Steve’s low chuckle cuts through the room like a knife.

“Christ, Munson,” Steve sighs, his grip tightening around his cock. “You’re thinking too hard.”

Eddie grits his teeth. He is. He’s thinking about the way Steve had made you scream, the way your back arched off the couch like you were trying to fuse into him. He’s thinking about the fact that Steve’s watching, lazily stroking himself while Eddie fumbles like a virgin.

And the nail in the coffin? You’re watching Steve too. Your teeth sink into your lower lip, eyes heavy with desire—but not for Eddie.

“Fuck,” Eddie rasps, pulling back. His voice is wrecked.“I can’t—I don’t—” Steve leans forward, fingertips ghosting over your throat as you keen toward him. “You can,” he growls. “Stop trying to perform. Just feel her.”

Eddie’s breath comes in sharp bursts. This time, when his mouth finds your cunt, he doesn’t think. He listens. To the way your breath catches when he licks a slow, experimental stripe. To the way your hips jerk when he sucks just there. And when your fingers fist in his hair—finally—it’s not to guide him, but to hold on.

“There,” Steve murmurs, voice thick with approval. “Now you’re getting it.” Eddie moans against you, the vibration pulling a whimper from your throat. Fuck. He’s dizzy with it—the taste of you, the sounds you’re making, the way Steve’s gaze burns into him like a brand.

But then Steve stands. Eddie barely has time to register the loss before Steve’s dragging him up by the collar, spinning him around to face you—really face you. Your lips are swollen, your chest heaving, your thighs slick with Steve’s work.

"Look at her," Steve growls, his voice a dark scrape against Eddie’s ear. "Don’t just glance—really look."

And Eddie looks. He sees the damp flush between your breasts, the way your hips lift like you’re already chasing it, the way your pupils blow wide when Steve’s thumb swipes over your bottom lip. "She’s not yours," Steve breathes, dragging his teeth over Eddie’s earlobe. "But fuck, look how bad she wants you to try."

Eddie’s pulse races. Then Steve steps back, gesturing like a king permitting a subject to kneel. "Go on. Make her forget my fucking name."

So he closes his eyes, trying to drown out the noise in his head, to sync himself with the thrum of your heartbeat beneath him, to dissolve into every breath you take. He wants to belong here, in this moment, where Steve’s approval hangs heavy in the air and your pleasure is the only thing that matters — success. A satisfied hum from Steve when Eddie finally finds the right rhythm, a broken moan from your lips. But your eyes — your eyes stay locked on Steve, even as Eddie’s mouth works you over. It’s still him you want. Hunger battles with pride in Eddie’s chest. He hates how badly he craves this—how much he needs Steve’s approval—but god, he longs to pull those sounds from you himself, to unravel you with nothing but his touch. And so he moves like a man possessed, single-minded in his mission to play you like an instrument, to pluck every string until you snap.

Your taste is intoxicating, something he’s already addicted to, something he’s not sure he can live without anymore. Your eyes scrunch shut as pleasure blooms, so lost in it that you don’t even notice Steve speeding up his strokes, his grip tight on his cock. Eddie gets close—so close he can practically taste your climax—but you linger on the edge, just out of reach. He’s aware he’s missing something, some final piece to send you over, but he can’t find it. Then your eyes flicker open again, searching for Steve’s gaze like it’s the only thing that can save you. And Eddie knows—he’s pushed his luck too far. Steve’s patience snaps—not with his pleasure, but with Eddie’s failure to give you yours. Next thing he knows, he’s being dragged back, the warmth of you ripped away too soon. Steve looms over him, a predator in human skin, annoyance rolling off him in waves. “If you want to get a chance to fuck her,” Steve growls, voice dripping with challenge, “you’re going to have to do better than that.”

Eddie’s brain becomes the mental equivalent of a dropped Wi-Fi signal—because did Steve just imply—?

Every touch, every taste Steve has allowed him, Eddie has devoured with insatiable hunger. But now it hits him—this is more than just a demonstration. Steve might actually let him fuck you. Or he would have. Now, Eddie isn’t sure he’ll ever get the opportunity again. A sharp, breathy cry from you yanks him from his thoughts. Steve has already turned you over, guiding you onto your hands and knees, one foot perched on the armrest behind you like a damn king claiming his treasure. Eddie is so close to your face now, your slick still glistening on his chin as you blink up at him, dazed. Steve teases your entrance with his cock, just enough to have you pushing back, begging for it. And for one glorious, heart-stopping moment—you look at Eddie.

Not at back at Steve.

At him.

Your gaze is pure, primal desperation—like he’s the one you need. Steve drives into you in one brutal thrust, and your eyes screw shut in ecstasy. You sob Steve’s name, but your eyes flicker back open as you you look at him.

“Baby, please—” And it dawns on him—you are begging Steve, but not for Steve. No, you’re begging for permission, your gaze locked onto Eddie like he’s the only thing anchoring you to earth. He doesn’t know what you’re asking for, but Christ, he already knows he wants it just as much.

Steve, of course, does understand. He drags his cock into you agonisingly slow, pressing tender kisses along your spine even as his voice comes out harsh. “You think he deserves it, honey?” You whine, desperate, but Steve doesn’t need more than that. He leans over you, his thrusts deliberate, sinful. “How could I ever say no to you?”

And fuck, Eddie gets it now—gets why Steve turns possessive, gets why you love it. He’s watching the two of you move like a single entity, Steve’s hips rolling into you with a precision that rewrites Eddie’s entire understanding of sex. And the real tragedy? He’s pretty sure you’re only getting started. Your fingers fist in Eddie’s collar, yanking him down hard. His breath stutters as your lips take him in, hot and needy, and he doesn’t think—just reacts, his hands tangling in your hair as Steve’s thrusts rock you forward, forcing Eddie deeper into your mouth. You moan around him, the vibrations nearly undoing him right there, but then your hand tugs at his belt loop like it’s personally offended you, and Eddie’s thoughts fry into static. What do you want? He glances at Steve for answers, but the bastard just laughs, driving into you harder like he’s savouring Eddie’s confusion.

And God help him, Eddie looks. It’s downright pornographic. Steve’s cock glistens as he pulls out, your body clinging to him like it never wants to let go, and every time he sinks back in, you clench, a broken noise tearing from your throat.

As Eddie freezes, you take matters into your own hands, undoing Eddie’s belt with ruthless efficiency. The zipper’s barely down before his jeans pool at his knees. He looks at Steve again—helpless—but Steve just shakes his head, smirking. “Jesus, Munson. Keep up.”

Your fingers brush the straining outline of his cock through his boxers, and his hips jerk. Your mouth finds the spot beneath his ear, teeth scraping, and—fuck—it nearly sends him over the edge right then. You’re not gentle. You know exactly what you want. In seconds, his dick is in your hand, your grip perfect, and the first stroke has him grinding his teeth so hard his jaw hurts. He wants to keep his eyes open—to watch, to devour every detail of every second—but his body betrays him. A shudder wracks through him, his lashes fluttering helplessly before his head falls back, lost to the crushing wave of ecstasy."

“Fuck—!”

Steve’s voice cuts through the haze, dark with amusement. “That’s it, sweetheart. Show him how good you can be.” His hand tangles in your hair—not guiding, just holding—like he wants Eddie to see he’s the one in control. That every gasp you make, every shudder Eddie can’t suppress, is because Steve orchestrated it.

“Bet he’s never felt anything like you.” Eddie’s thighs tremble, his cock twitching against your tongue. He’s close, too close, and Steve knows it—fuck, he’s enjoying it. “Look at him,” Steve murmurs, dragging his cock out of you just to slam back in, punching a moan from your lips. “Already shaking for you. Bet he wishes it was him inside instead.” His thumb swipes over your clit, and you whimper, your rhythm on Eddie faltering. “But he’s got to earn that, doesn’t he?”

Earn it? Eddie’s vision blurs at the edges. He’d shamelessly beg if it meant— Then your tongue swirls over the head of his cock, and he chokes, almost falling forward into you.

“Steady,” Steve warns, though his voice is anything but calm. “You cum before she does, and I’ll make you watch while I fuck her twice as hard.”

Eddie’s groan is nothing short of pure agony. Steve fucks you more slowly then—cruel, like he’s savouring Eddie’s torment—dragging his cock almost all the way out before sinking back in, his grip on your hair tightening just enough to make your eyes water. But your dedication doesn’t waver; if anything, it burns hotter. “Shit—” Eddie’s hips jerk involuntarily, but you swallow him deeper, humming around the salt-bitter heat of him. His fingers scramble at the cushions, knuckles white. “Jesus, sweetheart, where the hell did you learn—?”

Steve’s laugh is a dark, knowing thing against your neck. His hands slide up your thighs, spreading you wider as he presses inside, slow, letting you feel every fucking inch. “She’s full of surprises,” he murmurs, lips grazing your ear. “But you’re not going to last long enough to find out, are you?”

Eddie’s groan disintegrates, the way you swirl your tongue around him, the slick pressure of your throat—it’s nothing like the groupies who’d thrown themselves at Corroded Coffin. This is ruination. This is worship. Your mouth works him with practiced greed, and Eddie’s vision blurs.

“Fuck, I’m not—I can’t—”

“Yes. You can.” Steve’s voice doesn’t leave room for argument—this isn’t a suggestion; it’s a command. His hand moves from your scalp to your nipple, pinching just shy of pain until you whine around Eddie’s cock. His other hand slips between your legs, circling your clit with filthy precision. “You going to come for us, sweetheart?” he rasps. You nod frantically, lips stretched lewdly around Eddie. “Good. Let him see.” You break with a cry, muffled around Eddie’s cock, and Steve growls as your body clenches around him. “That’s it,” he grits out, hips snapping harder, “that’s my girl—” Eddie’s spellbound.

Steve fucks you through it, your tears smearing Eddie’s thighs. His breath comes in punched-out gasps, cock twitching against your tongue—

Steve loses control first. A guttural groan tears from his throat as he spills inside you, forehead dropping between your shoulder blades.

Eddie’s hips stutter when you whimper, oversensitive, as Steve grinds into you one last time—claiming you like he wants to brand the feeling into your skin. And then— “Fuck!” Eddie’s back arches, his cock jerking as you pull off with a slick pop, begging Steve for mercy. He comes untouched, frustration and relief searing through him as he gasps your name like a prayer. Steve laughs, low and satisfied. Eddie’s too wrecked to care, chest heaving—until Steve’s next words send him tumbling straight back into want.

“Let me know if you’ve got any requests for the next lesson.”

2K notes · View notes

joshujin · 2 months ago

Text

‘til god breaks this spell

joshua's devotion to you rivals his devotion to his god.

♫ spell by niki pairing: joshua x fem!reader word count: 4.6k cw: a lot of religious reflection (catholicism) tags: childhood best friends, angst, not the happy ending you probably want sorry, the one that got away, joshua is a good catholic boy, reader is atheist a/n: the very first fic i wrote was a bts jinkook fic that was inspired by la la lost you by niki. seems fitting that i start my svt writing journey with another niki inspired song hehe. other than that, idk what compelled me to torture myself (and now you) like this. also, this was written in one, flustered go so it's barely edited oops!

“mom, what would you do if i married someone who didn’t believe in god?”

joshua’s mother immediately set her novel down, glasses slipping down her nose as she frowned at her one and only son. he didn’t look up at her, choosing to stare down at his hands instead while he twirled the friendship ring he shared with you around his pinkie finger.

“married?” she repeated. “i wasn’t even aware you had someone in your life.”

he shook his head quickly, frowning down at his open palm as he began to massage it nervously. “i don’t. i’m just… curious, i guess.”

it might be silly to be as worried about this as he is, seeing as things haven’t progressed into a relationship yet, but he’d rather figure this out now and say nothing than risk it, go all in, and then cause unnecessary pain later on.

his mother stays silent long enough that he forces himself to look at her. her eyes are no longer on him, instead seemingly zoning out on the space straight ahead. he follows her gaze and grimaces when he realizes she’s staring at the wooden carving of the last supper hung on the wall.

“i wouldn’t do anything,” she begins carefully. “you’re a grown man, after all. but i would worry that marrying a partner who didn’t believe in god—any god at all—would make you stray from your own faith.”

it’s a diplomatic answer and he expected it; his mom has always been supportive of him, always allowing him the space and freedom to make his own mistakes and learn from them—or not.

“so you’d prefer i marry catholic?”

“i mean, of course, but that’s not what i said, was it?” his mom retorts, giving him a pointed look. she knew joshua had a way of misunderstanding a lot of the things she told him. “i would prefer you marry catholic the way i would prefer you marry at all—nice to have but if you don’t, it’s not the end of the world.”

joshua nods, feeling a little bit of the tightness in his chest dissipate.

“i would just hope you think about it long and hard enough to know that you won’t compromise any of your own beliefs for someone who lives without a god,” she emphasizes.

joshua mulls that idea over. is his faith strong enough to withstand a lifelong partner who didn’t share his belief and love for god?

he wants to say yes. it’s you—of course he wants to say yes. you’ve been friends your whole lives, and he’s been in love with you for most of that time. of course he wants his answer to be: yes, my faith will survive a relationship with an atheist.

but he thinks about the conversations you’ve already had years ago, and the tightness in his chest returns tenfold.

is there anything that could happen that would make you believe in god?

probably not. it just seems too convenient that there’s someone out there in charge of everyone’s lives.

would you marry someone religious?

i don’t know. i guess it depends on the person. i don’t think i’d participate or convert or anything if i did, though.

what about kids? would you baptize them if you did marry someone religious?

dude, what’s with the interrogation? i don’t know! if it’s important to my partner, maybe? but i’d be most comfortable just letting my kids figure it out themselves. can we watch a movie now?

and each time you answered his question, instead of accepting that maybe there was a major incompatibility between the two of you, joshua would find himself thinking of the things he could compromise on.

okay, sure, he doesn’t need you to convert or participate; he’s already been going to church his entire adult life so far without anyone accompanying him. and if you didn’t want children baptized, that’s fine too! adults go through catholic confirmation later in life all the time! so what if you thought that the idea of a “big guy” controlling everyone’s lives was weird? he could just refrain from talking about that around you… or correcting your line of thinking because it’s a bit of a gross oversimplification of catholicism.

and as he sits there, his mother already back to her novel, he realizes his faith isn’t strong enough to survive you. because his love for you has become somewhat of its own religion to him, and if it came down to a question of his faith to you or his faith to god, he has to be honest with himself and admit that his mother’s fears are valid. he would put it all on the line if it meant being with you.

and he can’t do that.

he’s committed all kinds of sins by now. he’s been flexible in his beliefs—supportive and progressive in areas where other catholics have been unforgiving and in his opinion, outdated and bigoted. he’s compromised a lot at no cost to him or his god. but he can’t completely lose everything he’s known and loved for you. he can’t lose himself to you.

he can't forget that it isn't fair to you either—to have to try and appease him and his religion. he'd be doing you both a mercy, letting this spark die before it ever really takes flame.

joshua leaves his mother’s house knowing one thing is for sure: it’s time to let this dream of having you go.

the end is short and uneventful.

you two had only kissed once, and things hadn’t gone far enough for either of you to confess your feelings—whatever they were. so when joshua told you he thought it was better to stay best friends, you took it like a champ and agreed, smiling and hugging him tightly, promising him that nothing would change.

the end was short and uneventful, yet somehow the most devastating thing joshua has experienced. he had you. you were right there. he had a whole life with you in his palm, and he let it go.

he hates himself for it, but he saw it all. the moment his lips met yours, he saw hands intertwined together, late nights, car rides with his hand on your thigh, hugs from behind while he cooked for you, a suit and a white dress, a small, innocent face that looked like the both of you—your smile, his eyes.

and he feels like maybe you saw it too.

because when you both pulled away, you looked up at him like this was it—like you had just run a marathon and you had reached the finish line. like you’d grabbed his hand and crossed it with him. you smiled widely, wrapped your hand around the back of his neck, and caressed the skin there as your foreheads met. and you fell asleep wrapped up in each other like it was where you were both meant to be.

maybe you saw it too. and now he’s the reason it’ll stay a dream.

you stay true to your promise. joshua is almost saddened by how easy it seems for you to revert back to being only friends. every time he sees you, hears you, brushes up against you, he feels like his heart is cracking wide open and the world might just end at that very moment. it’s dramatic but he can’t wrap his mind around any other way to exist.

it hurts for a while, but the years pass a little easier.

he watches you date, and even though he’s secretly and unfairly relieved every time you throw someone else to the curb, he takes it well. he meets some of them and welcomes them warmly, agreeing to hang out with you and whoever you’re dating any time you ask him to. he even thinks one or two of them could give you a good life; he can live thinking of you with these ones forever. but you inevitably leave them behind and he hates that it makes him happy to watch you shake off a good guy that isn’t him.

just as he planned, joshua’s faith remains strong. he goes to church. he volunteers with his mom and her bible study friends. he sings and plays guitar on the praise and worship team from time to time. he meets a a catholic woman he thinks could be a match for him. he never asks her out. he politely declines when she musters up the courage to do it herself.

he thinks this could be fine. maybe he’ll be single forever and maybe you’ll find some average guy he can stomach, and his love for his god and for your happiness will keep him warm enough at night.

but then, you meet kwon soonyoung.

you’ve never been one to fall and tell; most of the time, joshua doesn’t know you’re dating someone until you decide it’s time to get his stamp of approval. he knows soonyoung is different from the jump.

your time starts to get tied up. it starts with only seeing him sporadically throughout the month instead of almost every day. it becomes rescheduling all your hangouts until you’re only seeing each other briefly at mutual friends’ events. it ends with missed calls and ignored texts.

he’s driving himself crazy wondering what’s going on, and when you post a photo on your story of a dinner date with a faceless man, he understands what’s happening. you’re falling in love. and he knows it because you never have—not truly—and this is what it must look like.

you don’t fall and tell, but joshua knows you too well to pretend it’s anything but this. he doesn’t try to take up any more of your time out of respect, and you don’t reach out.

you prove him right when a few months later, you bring soonyoung to a friend’s dinner party, and you introduce him as your boyfriend. it hits joshua like a truck. you’ve never introduced someone to him as a boyfriend. he’s always met the people you’ve dated before it progressed that far. he also had the privilege of meeting them privately, not with the rest of the friend group, none of who are privy to the way his heart collapses in on itself when he watches the way you lean into soonyoung all night. the way you laugh with him. the way his eyes disappear from how fondly he smiles at you. the way he seems to fit right into your life so perfectly.

you hug joshua tightly that night before leaving, and you tell him you miss him so much and you two need to catch up soon. neither of you follow up, though, and a year later, you’re engaged.

the week before joshua is due at your wedding as a guest—not your “man-of-honor” the way you’ve always planned your entire life—he gets completely shit-faced drunk.

he’s sitting on the sidewalk in front of a puddle of his own vomit when you quietly sit beside him, slipping your arm around his shoulders. he doesn’t know why you’re there. he doesn’t know if he’s hallucinating. he smiles anyway.

“hey, you.”

“hey, shua,” you whisper, smiling at him sadly. “what are you doing?”

“oh, y’know,” he shrugs, grinning at himself pathetically. “just hanging out.”

you hum, nodding.

“what are you doing here?” he asks.

you look at him with an inscrutable expression. “i just wanted to see you,” you answer. “i wanted to see my best friend.”

“am i?” he asks, looking up at the sky. the moon is covered by clouds tonight. “your best friend?”

“of course. you always will be.”

he smiles at the thought. he’s too drunk to realize there’s no possible way that’s true, not since soonyoung came into your life. he’s too drunk to remember there’s no room in your life for another man who’s just as hopelessly in love with you as your fiance is.

“say, do you believe in god yet?” he asks suddenly.

you raise an eyebrow at the suddenness of the question. “um, i haven’t thought about it lately.”

he nods. “okay.”

“joshua, what are you doing here?” you ask again. “what are you really doing here?”

he doesn’t remember what he tells you. what he does remember is waking up in the room he grew up in instead of his apartment, with his mother at the foot of his childhood bed, tears welling in her eyes.

“was it y/n?” she asks.

he frowns. “what?”

“when you asked what i would do if you married someone who didn’t believe in god all those years ago,” she explains, sniffling a little as she does. “were you talking about y/n?”

he doesn’t answer.

the events of the previous night catch up to him, and he remembers where he is—where his life is. he’s a handful of days from watching you marry someone else. he’s a handful of days from losing the one person he’s ever fallen in love with to someone else.

and all joshua has to show for it is his goddamn faith, and suddenly, for the first time since he asked his mother that question, he’s not sure it was worth it. because either way, he knows he’ll be devoted to you until the day he dies; he might as well have had you by his side all this time.

he tries to swallow the lump in his throat. when he fails, he can’t help the sobs that begin to rack his body.

he buries the heel of his hands into his eyes until he sees stars.

“she’s marrying him,” he groans through his sobs. “she’s marrying him, mom.”

“oh, joshua. i know.” he feels his mom’s hand squeeze his leg. “oh, baby, i’m so sorry.”

“i can’t do this. i can’t do it,” he wheezes, feeling like his lungs are collapsing under the weight of his ribs. “why did i do this? i can’t do this.”

she doesn’t try to convince him he can do this. she doesn’t try to argue that he didn’t do anything wrong. she doesn’t tell him to calm down. she collects him in her arms and she holds him, comforting him the way only a mother knows how to.

when he starts to calm down, she kisses the crown of his head.

“the pain you must’ve endured all this time. i’m so sorry, joshua. if i had known who you were talking about, i would’ve said something entirely different.”

he untangles himself from her embrace to look at his mother. “what do you mean?”

she wipes at her own tear-stained cheeks before cupping her son’s face. “oh, sweetheart. it’s y/n. you grew up with her. i know her like i would my own daughter.”

his mother shakes her head and joshua feels like he sees all his regret mirrored in her face. she pulls him to sit against the wall his bed is pushed up against, joining him as they both stare out the opposite window.

“there are some people who lead godly lives without even knowing it,” she informs him. “you say she doesn’t believe in god, but i don’t believe you.” his stomach lurches. “that girl has lived as godly a life as you and i have. she doesn’t need to be catholic to do that, baby. you know her. there isn’t a single universe where that girl would’ve led you away from your faith.”

joshua stammers now. “but… i…”

“all the sundays she tagged along for mass with us because she just wanted to be with her best friend when she could’ve been out on the playgrounds,” his mother begins listing. “she always respectfully bowed her head when we prayed before meals even though we both knew she wasn’t praying.”

his head is reeling now. is it possible he rewrote his own memories? could he have created his own narrative of what life with you would look like?

“remember when you were both 14 and she learned what lent was? she tried giving up soda and ended up crying, begging me for forgiveness when she forgot and accidentally had coke with her school lunch.”

his mother’s shoulders shake with nostalgic laughter.

“you would’ve thought i was god the way that girl wailed,” she reminisces. she sighs in the silence that follows. “joshua, my son. some people… they show you they love god in a way different than we do, and it’s my fault i never properly taught you that.”

he turns his head to look at her but her gaze remains trained on the window. he sees now that it’s not his regret she mirrors but her own.

“i think i was too preoccupied with ensuring i raised you to be a good, catholic man—too preoccupied with making sure you didn’t become anything like your father.”

he breathes in deeply and returns his focus to the window.

“but i should’ve made it clear. i should’ve shown you that god exists in all the little acts of love we give and receive. i should’ve shown you that organized religion isn’t the only marker of faith.” she pauses, taking a shaky breath. “maybe then you would’ve recognized y/n as a woman of god. maybe then you wouldn’t be so hurt now.”

the words are enough to make joshua even more nauseous than his hangover is already making him.

“y/n… she shows godliness in the way she respects you and your beliefs. she shows it in the way she supports and loves you through every season of your life. it’s unfair to say she isn’t good enough for you because her faith lies in a different place.”

“i never thought she wasn’t good enough for me,” he interjects quickly. his mom doesn’t argue that, simply nodding. “she’s perfect. i just… i thought we were incompatible.”

“and maybe you are,” she agrees.

she doesn’t need to say it out loud; they both know what comes next. but now you’ll never know.

“i just wanted to apologize,” his mom tells him, taking his hand in hers and squeezing. “i feel like i’ve failed you.”

“you haven’t, mom,” he says quietly. “i failed me.”

“we’ll agree to disagree,” she announces, making him smile a little. “but i’m sorry anyway. there are a lot of things i’d change now if i could.”

he feels the familiar tightness in his chest. it’s his companion at this point, the heartbreak. “me too, mom. me too.”

joshua played with your hair from where he was laying on your couch. you were sitting criss-cross in front of him on the floor, clicking through netflix and trying to find a movie you both wanted to watch.

"is there anything that could happen that would make you believe in god?" he suddenly asked you. you frowned at the abrupt question, setting the remote down on the floor.

"that's random."

"just curious," he murmured softly, like he was so relaxed he was about to fall asleep.

"hmm," you hummed in thought, resting your head back so you could stare at the ceiling. he adjusted your hair so it fell over his lap. "like what, some kind of miracle that can only be explained by god?"

he shrugged. "sure. whatever."

"probably not..." you answered with hesitation. "i can't really think of a kind of miracle that would have me questioning god, though."

"like, if someone you loved were given a terminal diagnosis—three months to live. and suddenly, their illness clears up with no explanation. even doctors are astounded. what would you think?"

you shrugged. "i would be too happy they're not dying to question how it happened." he blew out a breath of exasperation. "okay, okay," you laughed, trying to figure out a more definite answer for him. "no, i don't think there's anything that could happen. it just seems too convenient that there's someone out there in charge of everyone's lives."

he nodded along but said nothing. you fidgeted in the silence. the quiet wasn't something the two of you ever shied from; it was always comfortable with joshua. for some reason, you felt awkward. so you kept talking to fill the silence.

"i think i could be open to believing something, though," you admitted honestly. "i just don't want to get to a place where i would blame this... thing or person for the things going wrong in my life. but that's just me. i still love that people believe so strongly in it. faith is a beautiful thing."

joshua taught you that. faith withstood a lot of things, and your best friend was the prime example. nothing was quite as beautiful as his love for his religion, his god, his spirituality. even if it scared you sometimes—even if it unintentionally made you feel too small to be someone lucky enough to have joshua's heart—you knew it was still precious.

"would you marry someone religious?"

you snorted. "where are these questions coming from?"

"indulge me."

you sighed, closing your eyes and enjoying the way his fingers carded through your hair. "that's so hard to answer without knowing who it is. it depends on the person. i can't make a decision based solely on how religious they are."

"okay, i guess that's fair." he paused. "would you ever convert for someone?"

"i don't think so?" you said, hating how unsure you sounded answering all of these questions. "but who knows? i really can't say for sure without knowing who it is, shua. how about you? would you marry someone who wasn't religious?"

your heart pounded at the silence that followed.

"it depends on the person," he finally said with a playful tone.

you rolled your eyes. "exactly."

"alright, what about kids?"

"shua, why are you interrogating me right now?"

he snickered. "i'm having a conversation with my best friend. is that not allowed?"

you lifted your head and turned to glare at him, your hair slipping between his fingers. he dropped his hand now that he had nothing to play with. he raised his eyebrows at you slightly.

"of course it's allowed," you scoffed. "it's just... so out of nowhere."

"well?" he prodded, ignoring your comments.

"okay, what about kids?" you relented.

"would you baptize them if you did marry someone religious?"

you laughed. "so much religion talk tonight."

he didn't dignify that with a response.

you groaned, again having no idea. if you took all these questions and made them about joshua, they would be a million times easier to answer. but he wasn't asking about himself, he was asking about some faceless, nameless nobody, and you weren't invested enough to answer accurately.

"i don't know... if it's important to my partner, then of course i would consider it," you finally said. "but i guess i'd be most comfortable just letting my kids figure it out themselves."

"that's wise," he remarked.

"mhm, sure" you hummed. "can we watch a movie now? i'll even let you choose an anime if you stop asking questions that make me sweaty."

he smirked and nodded. "okay, come up here, though."

you joined him on the couch and you spent the rest of the night binging anime episodes. you wouldn't be able to say what you watched, though, because the entire time, your mind was stuck on what the answers would've been if they were about joshua.

the end is long and beautiful.

you marry kwon soonyoung in front of all your loved ones, and you do it knowing full well this man will give you the happiest life. you spend the night eating the food you both painstakingly chose together, dancing to songs recommended by your guests on their RSVPs, and laughing so hard, tears stream down both of your faces.

and when you sidle up to your best friend as he leans on the bar, waiting for his drink, he has the strength to look happy for you. you’re sure he isn’t. at least not quite all the way.

“i’m happy you’re happy, y/n.”

you smile. “thank you, shua.” you pause, tilting your head a little in thought. you add: “for everything.”

“what’s everything?” he asks, smiling in confusion.

“for everything... for being my best friend all this time. loving me like you did. letting me love you," you list, ignoring the way his eyes widen at you. "most of all, i guess i just want to thank you for everything you gave up so we could be here,” you finish before placing a soft kiss on his cheek. you pull away, cupping his face, and smiling. “i’ll never forget it. thank you.”

you’re swept back onto the dance floor by your bridesmaids. it was a short exchange, but you know it was enough.

you’re not dumb. you knew what joshua had to give up so you could be here, happy, in love, and with the man perfect for you.

everything. he had to give up everything. he chose his devotion to god over his devotion to you, and you never faulted him for that because you knew it was a decision that would destroy him, and maybe it did at one point, having to bury his love as deep as he did.

you didn’t believe heaven was real, and still, he chose to love you until it hurt like hell and you knew it. there might have been a younger version of you that was heartbroken he couldn’t possibly imagine a life with you where you were capable of supporting his beliefs wholeheartedly regardless of yours. because you would have. you would have done everything in your power to make him feel loved while keeping his door to his god wide open.

there might have been a younger version of you that would’ve hated him for this.

but tonight, as you slow dance with your husband, feeling the safest you’ve felt in your entire life, all you can do is thank joshua hong for all the choices he made without asking you first.

ironically, because of him, you can see god now. you can see god in the way soonyoung holds you like you’re the most precious person in his life. you can see god in his patience and care. in his kindness. in his dedication to making you smile and laugh.

you’ve never seen god in a clearer light.

you think back to your last, honest night with joshua, on that deserted street, when he drunkenly called you.

“what are you really doing here?”

“i’m mourning,” he answered. “i’m mourning the life we could’ve had.” he frowned as tears began to fall down your face. “don’t cry. i don’t want to make you sad. i’m okay, i promise. i’ll be okay. i’m just letting you go now... for real this time.” he hiccuped. "for real, for real."

“you didn’t have to, you know,” you whispered.

“i think i did.”

you got him to his mother’s home that night, not wanting him to wake up alone with the weight of his sadness. you didn’t exchange many words, but you knew she knew. she hugged you, told you she was happy for you and soonyoung, and she looked at you for several, long seconds. you felt like she could see right through you because she probably could—she always did.

“you’ll always have him.”

“and he’ll always have me.”

“i know.”

the end is long and beautiful, and it’s simultaneously the best and the most devastating night of your life.

but your lives go on, and you and joshua both find what keeps you warm at night, and you hold onto it for as long as you can.

and you’re okay with that. you hope he is too.

#joshua x reader #joshua hong x reader #joshua x you #joshua hong #joshua hong fic #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #svt imagines #svt scenarios #seventeen x you #svt x you #seventeen fic #{ 📝 } → joshujin fic

362 notes · View notes

earlysunshines · 9 months ago

Text

order for delivery!

pham hanni x fem!reader

synopsis: hanni is a terrible multi-tasker and it's very evident when her phone is in between her ear and shoulder while she orders delivery. she's messily figuring out what to tackle on her calendar first as she mumbles her order, what lecture notes to go over, when her midterms fall---and oops, she just said 'love you, bye' to the worker on the other end of the phone.

warnings: none(?) i think it's just rly silly and cute and fluffy ; anything else i didn't mention ; not proofread

a/n: ugh she's so cute and such a loser and UGH anyways i wrote this so quickly but maybe that's because i love thsi fic so much it was so so so fun to write omfg ENJOY!!

hanni is a terrible multitasker, it only ends up in her getting things mixed up and done slower. still, she does it anyway.

her phone is tucked awkwardly between her ear and shoulder, fingers tapping at the laptop keyboard while scrolling through lecture notes. “uh, yeah… chicken lo mein with extra chicken… and um also…” she squinted at the calendar on her screen. “what was i supposed to— oh, right… midterm next wednesday. right, cool.”

on the other end you listened patiently, smiling to yourself and holding back a small giggle as she mumbled half an order while clearly being busy with other things.

“wait, sorry!” she apologizes quickly, realizing she hadn’t ordered what minji and haerin had asked for. “also six steamed pork dumplings— no, twelve please. shrimp fried rice and… wait, i already said that, right? ugh—anyway, just, yeah, add that too.”

you ring it all up, smiling wider. “anything else?”

there’s a brief moment of silence until you hear, “huh? oh, no, that’s it.” she replies absentmindedly. she had been paying no attention at all, flipping through her notes and muttering to herself quietly about what she needed to review before the weekend. “uh, yeah, thanks—love you, bye.”

another beat of silence passes before you chime in, voice playful. “love you too.”

you could practically hear her freeze, the realization hits her. you hear a gasp on the other end of the phone, sharp and followed by a small curse.

‘w-wait, what?” hanni stammers, cheeks heating up like crazy. everything hanni had been bombarded with halts. her hands freeze on the laptop, her phone almost slips from her shoulder, and the papers she had been holding with the other hand have all landed on teh counter. everything hanni had been thinking about—midterm wednesday, lecture notes, module 2.2, chapter three reading—dissapear from her mind in a blink.

she hears a laugh on the other end, then a voice that sends a shiver down her spine.

“your total is $28.41, by the way.”

“god, i’m sorry.” hanni rushes out the apology, face palming herself. “i didn’t mean it— not that i don’t love you! well, i mean, i don’t know you, so i don’t love you. not that i hate you! no hard feelings. i’m not saying you’re— okay i’m, i’m going to go. bye. thank you. sorry.”

hanni presses the red button on her phone, ending the call and cringing to herself. hanni is more than glad that her friends in the living room hadn’t heard the most embarassing phonecall of her life. if any of them were to witness it, she’d never live it down. her cheeks are fuming against her hand; she’s a mess, she really needs to stop tackling twelve things at once even though it brings her some type of comfort—less chaos during lots of chaos makes it seem like something manageable.

she clicks through a bunch of tabs, skims through a few lines on her paper, and then closes her laptop. she does this while being distracted by the whole one minute interaction from earlier, shooting herself in the head mentally everytime she thinks of it.

less than twenty minutes later, the delivery guy shows up. hanni knows it’s not the person on the phone, because when the man speaks, it’s not the same voice that sent a weird shiver down her spine when she realized they said “love you too” back to her.

she takes the two bags over to her living room, setting them down in front of two ravenous students—otherwise known as her best friends danielle and minji—watching their eyes sparkle just from the sight. she rolls her eyes at them, sitting down against her small couch and leaning against as they waste no time to dig in and unbox.

hanni’s the last one to reach in and grab something to munch on—mistake number one. mistake number two is catching minji furrowing her brows at a piece of paper, pickiing it up and reading, instead of stopping her before she can do any of that.

her best friend reads it outloud in a confused tone: “i put two extra fortune cookies in there,” minji begins, danielle scoots over to read too. “hope your fortune is as sweet as your voice. love, the girl you don’t hate, but don’t love :(“

“p.s. you sound cute when you’re caught off guard ;-)”

minji finishes reading, and then the two of her friends look up, staring down hanni.

“hanni, what’s this?”

“i— give me that!” hanni says, face burning up. she swipes the paper from minji’s hand, looking at the paper and covering it with her hand like her friends hadn’t just read it together. she cringes, closing her eyes and falling down on teh floor. “i’m an idiot.”

“hanniiiiii” danielle whines, scooting over to shake her by her shoulders while she’s on the floor. “what’s that about? do you have an admirer or something?”

“i can’t tell you, i just, i’m so stupid.”

“dude, what?” minji questions, completely ignoring the steaming, delicious food on the coffee table. “explain—now.”

hanni feels her heart beating like crazy, then she gives in and sits up. her face is most definitely beet red, maybe even worse when she glances at the note again.

“i accidentally said ‘love you, bye’ to the worker on the phone.” hanni says quietly, shaking her head. “and she said it back.”

“she what?” danielle and minji say in unison, looking at her in disbelief.

hanni lets out a weird noise, overwhelmed and flustered beyond words. she looks down at the note again through the spaces in her fingers as she covers her face, not noticing any name or anything that might lead to another encounter with the mystery girl on the other end of the line. this disappoints her a bit, but even if she were to have a name or number or anything, she wouldn’t be able to face you.

after getting teased to death, the trio indulges in food after a very long and tiring study session. the conversation shifts to annoying professors, upcoming midterms, plans for when they all have free time—but hanni is still thinking of you, oddly enough.

—

a little over a week from that day, hanni orders takeout again. she’s somehow forgotten (for the most part) her embarrassing interaction, probably because her midterm is tomorrow and she’s completely forgotten to eat. her phone sits in between her shoulder and ear again, head tilted awkwardly to rush out an order.

“alpha waves, altruism, anorexia nervosa… shit, sorry. um yeah, i’d like six steamed dumplings please, pork. umm… chow mein— no, scratch that. shrimp fried rice please.” her words are hurried out her mouth as she furrows her brows at her laptop screen, clicking through slides and trying to comprehend two units of psychology in one night. “that’s it, thank you, love you.”

hanni stops in place, frozen in shock. there is no way.

“wow, you must be smitten, huh?” she hears on the end of the line, followed by a small chuckle. “love you too, ‘hp.’” hanni had never used her full name when ordering things, well, only food. she always had this fear of sharing her legal name unless it was for unconsumable orders. “your total is $14.89 by the way.”

you hear a groan on the end of the line, followed by what sounds like pens and pencils hitting the floor.

“...you alright?”

hanni, caught off guard by the whole conversation for the most part, but also the fact that you noticed how she had just spilled half her supplies onto her apartment floor, answers with a simple, “yeah.”

“that’s good to hear.”

“i’m really sorry, again, for the… you know.”

“your undying love for me?”

“what?” hanni says, completely disregarding the pens, pencils, and highlighters on the floor. “i- no! no. i’m not in love with you! i didn’t mean it—”

“i’m teasing, hp.” she hears the smile in your voice. “would you like an extra fortune? last time i had heard from you i remember something about a midterm.”

“you remembered?” it sounds a little pathetic, maybe desperate coming from hanni, but hanni couldn’t care less. she’s tired, overwhelmed, and has gone over so much work in the span of a few days that she really can’t think or function correctly.

“yeah, not many people sound as young as you. it’s usually a parent or something ordering for their family at this time. plus, you made my shift.” you confess, “i thought it was cute, you know, how frantic you had ordered your meal.”

“i’m really sorry about that, like seriously, i’m really, really sorry.”

“it’s okay hp.”

“right, yeah. i uh, i have to study. sorry— i don’t know why i’m saying sorry, ugh, sorry. thanks, bye.”

“no ‘love you?’” you ask, and before hanni can answer you respond, “kidding. i’ll throw in two fried wontons, have a good night hp.”

the call ends and hanni blinks a few times as she tries to process what just happened. she’s embarrassed beyond words, just as flustered too. there might even be a blush on her cheeks, she can’t stop thinking about how smooth you were with your teasing, plus the way your voice sounded.

hanni thinks it’s the midterm getting to her, the stress. she cleans up the mess on the floor and goes through her vocabulary notes. she hears a knock on the door twenty minutes later which makes her jump in her seat.

she grabs the bag of fried rice and dumplings, placing it on the counter before taking everything out. hanni hears her stomach rumble a bit, she definitely underestimated how hungry she was.

before hanni digs in, she notices two fortune cookies and a note at the bottom. she completely ignores the cookies, grabbing the note and opening it up to see the same small handwriting from last time:

“i’m guessing your initials are hp? i could be wrong…

hp like harry potter? it makes sense because you’re magical.

good luck on your midterm! hopefully you’ll order for a post-midterm celebration.

p.s. there are extra fried wontons ;p”

hanni smiles as she reads the note. pause. hanni stops smiling immediately when she becomes aware of the fact that she’s smiling because of a note. a note from a mystery woman on the other end of the line.

—

midterms are over, all of them. hanni had gone through all four midterms. all four. hanni’s burnt out to oblivion, finding comfort in her bed as soon as she gets back from her last midterm. she checks her messages and is greeted by the groupchat she’s in with danielle and minji.

minji: FINALLY i feel like a fish that’s been gutted out it’s not even finals lowk wasn’t even that bad actually how about you guys

danielle: my midterm is in an hour! wish me luck :D how was yours hanni?

hanni: i’m about to PASS OUT why did i choose forensics

minji: because you’re a nerd don’t let one biology midterm screw you over who’s going to take care of my body parts when i suddenly get murdered

danielle: woah quite a situation, no?

hanni: uagghshhskafhjk i’m going to sleep GOODNIGHT do you guys want to come over later dani do you need time to unwind before you come over

danielle: no that’s alright! i find your apartment quite cozy i’ll just crash there right after, thanks han okay i’m going to review a bit more wish me luck!

minji: good luck mo dani!! you can do it we love you

hanni: good luck! you’ve got this

danielle: ❤️

hanni smiles at danielle’s message, she’s always so positive—even through text, even during these trying times. she decides to pass out for almost two hours, waking up groggy and finding herself almost tripping all the way back to her couch in the living room. she sighs as she collapses onto the cushions, waiting for minji and danielle to come over.

then her thoughts race back to you, embarassingly enough. she thinks about your stupid flirting, your stupid voice, and the stupid giggle she could hear through the phone. she thinks about how stupid she is for smiling, how stupid she is. everything is stupid.

hanni is fantasizing about some random person she’s ordered affordable chinese food from, she doesn’t even know her name.

(hanni’s brain is mush.)

instinctively, she goes through her recent calls, dialing the number of the restaurant that serves her favorite dumplings.

it rings for a few seconds before someone answers, “hello?”

the voice isn’t familiar whatsoever, hanni feels a strange discomfort in her stomach.

hanni doesn’t realize that she hasn’t spoken a word until the second “hello?” is uttered. she breaks from her trance.

“hi, hello, yeah, hi.”

“hello, what can i get you?”

hanni purses her lips before replying, “oh, um.” she sounds like a sad child. “fried rice, i’ll do chicken. wontons, fried, twelve of them. could i also get beef-broccoli lo mein?”

she hears nothing for about three seconds, then a hum. “got it, could i get a name for that order?”

“hp.”

“y/n’s ‘hp?’” who the hell is y/n? hanni thinks to herself.

“what?”

“nevermind.” the worker says with her monotone voice. “will that be it?”

“yeah, thank you.” hanni doesn’t say ‘love you’ this time. she tells herself it’s because she’s not preoccupied with at least three things in that same moment, but a part of it is because it’s not the same voice that she had been expecting to hear. “what’s the total?”

“$24.12. it’ll be over in a little more than twenty minutes.”

“okay, thank you.” hanni says, and instead of hearing something snarky back—she hears a hum, and then the call ends.

…

you walk into work later than usual, one of your midterms had been pushed a bit later, so your hours were cut off.

as you walk in, you catch your coworker’s head snap up. as soon as she realizes it’s you, she relaxes a bit.

“good evening haerin!” you beam, somehow upbeat and lively even after your grueling calculus midterm. “miss me?”

“just had to take more calls than i ever do in one week.” she sighs, watching you move over behind the counter and push your bag under the desk. “so maybe a little.”

“awww, you missed me so much.”

“shut up.” haerin groans, sitting down in the little chair where no customers can catch her. “you know what you missed?”

“what?”

“your girlfriend called—miss hp.”

“hp?!” you say it like you’ve just missed the train that comes every two hours. “seriously? did she say ‘love you?’”

“of course that’s what you’re so animated about.” haerin rolls her eyes at you, shrugging. “she didn’t.”

a sigh of relief escapes your lips, a very exaggerated one for that matter. then you frown, sitting down in the spinny chair nearby and rotating yourself in your seat like a little kid.

“i can’t believe i missed her.”

“you’re actually insane for flirting with a customer.”

“she has a cute voice.”

“you don’t even know her y/n.” haerin scoots over, but only to flick you in the forehead. she leans back in her seat, smirking. you rub your skin and pout at her, making her roll her eyes once more before she continues on, “she could be old, crinkly, and married or something. what if she’s like… balding? what if her teeth are falling out and she—”

“why are you assuming the worst haerin. you’re so— whatever. she sounds my age, i guess. it’s just fun to mess around, it’s cute.”

“i will never get you.” your coworker crosses her arms, jumping at the sound of the phone ringing. “could you get that? i’ve run out of social battery.”

“it’s a phone call haerin.”

“talking to you drained me already.”

you frown, making her giggle at you.

—

the next time hanni calls is two days later, because she’s a loser that can’t seem to get the thought of the chinese restaurant employee who keeps flirting with her (albeit smoothly) out of her head. the phone rings twice, then someone picks up, and hanni waits eagerly.

“hi, pledis plates, how can i help?” it’s you, it’s you. the memory of hearing ‘y/n’s hp?’ pops up in her head—could you be y/n? you have to be.

“hi.” hanni says simply, biting the inside of her lip. she hears a small chuckle on the other end of the line, slightly relieved.

“if it isn’t hp.” it comes out cheeky, making hanni blush. “missed you, you know?”

“what?”

“did you miss me too?”

“i–” yes. hanni did miss you, not like she’d admit it, at least out loud. “i’d like to order dumplings.”

“harsh.” you respond jokingly, “six, pork, and steamed, got it.”

“you memorized it?”

“you ordered it last time.”

hanni can’t help but laugh, smiling as she holds the phone against her ear. “you must be head over heels to be remembering my order.”

“you’re the one who confessed first though?”

“that was a mistake.”

“uh huh.” amusement is laced in your tone. “it’ll be five dollars, should be there in less than twenty.”

“great.”

hanni doesn’t know what else to say. you both pause, letting silence and the faint static ring in your ears.

“what happened to the usual goodbye?”

hanni feels herself shrinking in her bed, feet kicking slightly, blush forming. god, she’s head over heels, she’s insane, she doesn’t know a single thing about you other than the fact that you have a really endearing voice and that your flirting is enough to have her smiling like an idiot.

“thanks, bye.” neither of you hang up after hanni says it, knowing there’s something missing. hanni pinches the bridge of her nose, feeling her stomach closing in on herself and simultaneously doing a flip. her heart nearly jumps out of her chest as she chokes out, “love you.”

“i was waiting for that one.”

“a-are you— really?”

“yeah.” you simply state, and you say nothing else but, “bye hp.”

“you’re not going to say it back?”

you grin to yourself. hanni hears a small, amused laugh fromthe other end, sending a shiver down her spine. “i don’t fold that easy, maybe next time.” you hang up right after, leaving hanni dumbfounded.

hanni looks at her phone like you’re going to call back, but you don’t. she drops the phone on her bed, putting both hands over her face and feeling her skin burn against her palms. she groans, then groans again, and sighs finally.

maybe next time. there’s going to be a next time—hanni has that at least.

—

hanni calls again the next monday, around two days after the last call. it’s the same day she had first said the infamous ‘love you’ to you on accident. she calls at around the same time, laptop on her lap as she taps lightly on the backspace key, though not enough to actually press it. she wonders to herself for a moment, is the dent in her wallet really worth it? has she really reached rock bottom?

“pledis plates, what would you like to order?”

it’s not you. hanni sinks into the cushion of her couch and feels herself deflate. she can’t always call with the assumption that you’ll pick up, there are other employees after all. this time, it’s the same monotone voice she had heard before, a stark contrast to your flirtatious, lively tone.

“hi, i’d just like—”

“ah, hp.”

“how did you—”

“i remember your voice from last time. y/n was quite sad when she realized she’d missed your call by twenty minutes.”

“what do you mean?”

“she came into work late, midterms or something.”

midterms. the information alone gives her the assumption that you’re also in college, maybe even in her grade, and if she’s pushing it maybe you even go to her university. she conjures up a better picture of you now, not quite clear or concrete, but it’s something.

“is she a student?”

“i don’t know if i can leak that, she told me to be very secretive about her. i don’t think you’ll have trouble finding out more though, she never shuts up.”

hanni snickers, so you’re a talker too. yeah, hanni’s into that.

“well now i know her name.”

“do what you will with that.” the girl mutters. hanni hears a small sigh, then another response, “hey, y/n was curious about you. are you in high school?”

“what— no! do i sound like it?”

“you sound young.” the girl on the end of the line—haerin—shrugs. she continues, “y/n thinks you’re the same age as her, she also assumes you’re cute. i guess no one will know until a miracle happens.”

“i can’t tell if you’re insulting me.” hanni chuckles awkwardly, but haerin doesn’t respond. “but if it helps, anyway, i’m a sophomore in college. tell her i’m interested in forensics.”

“okay.”

silence follows again, but haerin hasn’t hung up, and hanni still holds the phone against her ear expecting something more. hanni decides to take another step, asking, “y/n, how is… could you like, describe her?”

“physically or…? well, i can do a brief description. to start off: annoying, jokes a lot, pretends to be all mopey when insulted. physically: taller than me—i’d say taller than a lot of women. she has a nice smile i guess, but it’s the kind you want to wipe off her face, ugh, it’s like she’s making fun of you when she does it. her hair is also always a little messy, she says its for the ‘appeal,’ but i see none.”

hanni fights back a giggle. this woman has just spilled a good amount, a perfect amount in hanni’s eyes (any amount is alright, anything more than a name). this ‘y/n’ is tall, taller than most women, and hanni is shorter than most; hanni is into that, she loves taller girls. and messy hair too? that’s cute, probably. as long as it’s not the same type of messy that men rock around—men that barely shower or do anything. essentially: compsci majors—then hanni will be alright. you sound wonderful.

“did you want to order anything? or are did you just want to flirt with the idiot.”

“hey! hey, hey. lets not— ugh, okay, could i just get um, six pork dumplings—steamed.”

“okay.” the girl says quietly, and then hanni hears some light tapping. “six dumplings for hp.”

“hanni. it’s hanni. my name is hanni.”

“got it the first time.”

“you’re bright, aren’t you?”

“your order is going to be there later, bye.” and then the girl hangs up, leaving hanni speechless.

—

hanni waits a few days to call, because she doesn’t remember dialing on tuesdays or wednesdays and hearing a voice that brings her a little thrill. she leans against her counter waiting for a response, then lights up when she hears,

“pledis plates, how can i help?”

“y/n.” hanni says, almost relieved. “hi.”

“hi hanni.” your coworker must’ve leaked that conversation, hanni thinks. “nice to hear from you.”

“likewise.”

“can i get six dumplings? pork and—”

“---steamed, yes.” you’re smiling as you say it, like an eager little child. “nothing else?”

“no.”

“alright.” you respond, clicking two tabs and ringing up her order. you don’t give her the cost or anything, staring at the screen and deciding to huff out, “forensics?” you’re starting a real conversion now, what a step.

hanni is smiling hard, she’s so giddy that she’s twirling a piece of hair around her pointer finger.

“yeah, i think it’s nice.”

“cute.” you mumble, “i’m studying kinesiology.”

“is that so?”

“unfortunately.” you say lightheartedly. hanni doesn’t know what to respond with, she wants to continue the conversation and hear your voice longer, but there’s nothing she can think of. does she ask for your number? how you are? hanni is useless, she’s always been useless when it came to girls.

“hanni?”

“y-yes?” hanni cringes at the slight stutter.

“your total is five dollars. it’ll be there soon.”

“oh,” hanni says sadly, “i mean, um. okay.”

and then she hangs up, a little defeated, but there’s always a next time…right?

when her food gets there, she hurriedly pays the delivery driver, making her wallet cry even more. there’s a note in the bag, along with two fortune cookies. the note has your name and a number on it, making hanni gasp and smile to herself again. there’s a little ‘text me, miss hanni. i’m looking forward to it.’ and as soon as hanni reads it, she clasps her hands together, squeals quietly into them, giggles, and kicks her feet in the air.

hanni tries to do some schoolwork, managing to get ten minutes of reading down, a few sentences jotted down, and then the rest of the time she’s thinking about her new saved contact. she hasn’t texted you yet, mainly because she had been overthinking about what and when to text you. she contemplates texting danielle and minji about it, but she’d just be teased.

this is the first time in a while since hanni’s gotten anywhere close to something romantic, or maybe this is platonic, but the flirting doesn’t support that idea. she’s tried tinder—once, once and never again—and going to parties. nothing works out, none of them make her giddy and giggly like this.

before she knows it, two hours have passed, and so she decides to send a simple “hi, this is hanni!’

too enthusiastic? too bland? too basic? ugh. hanni groans, lying on her couch in an uncomfortable position.

you reply almost immediately with ‘hey, i’m off in twenty minutes. let’s call?’ and hanni has to put the phone to her chest, looking up at the ceiling in disbelief.

twenty minutes passes by too quickly, hanni hasn’t even figured out what to say. she looks at her phone, waiting for you to call, and when you do, she short circuits; hanni drops her phone on her face.

“hello?” it’s you.

it’s you.

“hey. um, how was work?”

“aw, even asking me about work.” she can hear the smirk in your tone, rolling her eyes as she smiles to herself. “it was fine, my favorite part was when this girl ordered pork dumplings though. she has a cute voice.”

“is that so?”

“yeah. hey, can i ask you something?”

“what is it?”

“i work tomorrow, but its the morning shift. i end at one, i was you know… wondering if you… wanted…” you sound nervous, this is a first for hanni. “if you wanted to share some dumplings, free of charge.”

hanni covers her mouth almost immediately, suppressing any signs of her freaking out.

“are you asking me out?”

“only if you say yes.”

you hear a giggle before you hear a “yes.”

“really?”

“mhm.” hanni smiles again, thinking of something that’ll leave you just as flustered. “okay, well… i’ll see your tomorrow. bye, love you.”

“love you too hanni.”

—

minji’s usually the one who picks up orders if it’s not delivery, and hanni is almost always taking the orders. so when hanni enters the shop for the first time, she’s quite fond of the smell of ingredients being stir fried or steamed, as well as the interior of the place. it’s very nice inside, hopefully the nice person she’s been meaning to see shows up soon.

there’s a girl by the counter, she’s only slightly taller than hanni, and her eyes are oddly cat-like. she looks up at her with those eyes, then shoots a small smile.

“hi, how can i help?” this is who the monotone voice belongs to. her image somehow matches perfectly with the voice.

“hi, i’m hanni.” as soon as she introduces herself, the workers eyes widen.

“woah, you’re real.”

“surprising, i know.”

“y/n is changing in the back—she was eager to get off fives minutes early so she wouldn’t be in uniform when you showed up.” haerin explains, shaking her head. “it’s nice to meet you, you’re very pretty.”

“thank you! i appreciate it. you’re pretty as well.”

haerin doesn’t get to respond. the person who does respond is the girl walking up to the register, scooting haerin to the side with her knuckles and tapping at the screen. the girl isn’t in uniform, and she’s also really good looking.

you run a hand through your hair as you clock out through the system. “hey, did hanni ever stop by?” you ask haerin, not looking up from the screen because you’ve typed your code in wrong.

“look up idiot.” your coworker snickers, and when you do, you’re met with the most gorgeous girl you’ve ever seen.

you notice her right away, hair flowing down past her chest, curtain bangs perfectly framing her face. her plump lips and striking features make you pause. sure, you expected her to be pretty—maybe even conventionally attractive, everyone is in their own way—but seeing her in person? she’s beyond that, practically model material. my god. your lips part slightly in surprise, and you catch yourself, quickly swallowing as you both smile at each other at the same time.

you clock out—thankfully not typing in the wrong code again from nervousness—and step out from behind the counter. a small tote bag hangs from your shoulder, and a plastic bag dangles in your hand. you glance down at it.

“twelve dumplings—steamed, pork, everything you like—for the pair.”

hanni’s smile lights up her face, and you can't help but think about how adorable she looks, how effortlessly charming she is.

“why thank you,” she says, her voice soft and playful. it sounds better in person than through the phone.

“you’re gorgeous, by the way,” you blurt out before you can stop yourself, still marveling at her. “like, i expected you to be pretty, but… wow.” you can tell haerin is fake gagging or rolling her eyes or something like that from behind, she’s probably already on her way to avoid witnessing this interaction.

hanni blushes instantly, the red creeping up her cheeks. if she were at home, she’d probably be giggling and kicking her feet, but for now, she just looks away shyly, smiling. “thanks, you’re really cute too.”

“you think?”

“yes.” she meets your eyes, still flushed. “can we eat? i’m hungry.”

“right, yeah. i hope it’s not too forward, but is the park nearby good? we can settle down and, um… talk more. you know, more than just about your usual order.”

hanni laughs—you might die right then and there—before responding, “that’s perfect,” and then she nods, looking at you. her eyes are soft and warm and wonderful.

“great,” you echo.

“great,” she repeats, a small laugh escaping her.

you both walk side by side, still a little stiff at first, the mutual attraction between you creating an unspoken tension. but as you settle into the rhythm of conversation, the initial awkwardness fades away, replaced by the easy flow of natural chemistry. each step feels lighter, the distance between you shrinking with every passing word.

—

hanni hears a knock at her door, confused because she hadn’t expected any guests other than minji and danielle—who are already in her living room leeching off her netflix account.

she opens it to see you, which immediately brings a smile to her face. she almost leaps over to hug you, nearly making you drop the large bag in your hand.

“someone missed me.”

“shut up.” hanni says before pecking your lips. she looks at you, your dorky, adorable face, and then presses another longer kiss. “come in babe. i didn’t expect you to be here.”

“i got off early because i had to cover. i wanted to surprise you, and i know you had company over.”

“oh yeah,” hanni had almost forgotten that her best friends had been there.

she leads you over, helping you take off your tote and setting it on her counter. her friends catch the two of you from their peripheral and wave, then their eyes light up at the sight of the familiar bag in your hand. you set it down, placing a the container of fried rice, lo mein, and dumpling down as they treat you like a savior.

“thank you so much, i owe you my first born.” danielle says, giving you a playful pout.

minji snickers, scooting up to the coffee table. “you’re the best thing that’s happened to us—to hanni.”

you look over to your girlfriend, that’s right, she’s your girlfriend. hanni is rolling her eyes at you, pushing your shoulder, and then pulling you in by the wrist to sit next to her. she’s not one for pda—especially in front of danielle and minji—but under the table her fingers graze your skin, which makes you smile.

you grab a secret container from behind your back, handing it to hanni. when she opens it, she opens her mouth, shocked and grateful for the six steamed pork dumplings that you brought just for her.

#kpop x reader #newjeans imagines #newjeans x reader #new jeans x reader #newjeans hanni #hanni pham x reader #pham hanni x reader #hanni x reader #pham hanni #hanni pham

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littlemissrbf · 1 month ago

Text

Summer Lovin' (pt. 3)

Robert "Bob" Floyd x fem!Reader

(No use of y/n, reader is a SoCal native & Bob is from Montana, language, reader has an annoying but loving uncle, a lot of Cali references, very dialogue-heavy in this one, a lil bit horny, please drink responsibly and wear your fucking seatbelt, Hangman jumpscare, a lot of food references bc I was hungry when I wrote this)

Part 3 [Word Count: 2.9k]

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"Really, oops?" you said leaning against the pool table with your arms crossed. He had just let you win

"Yeah it's a real bummer." His shoulders sagged and he let out a sigh as he placed his cue back on its rack on the wall. Then he looked at you with a boyish grin and a glimmer in his eyes.

"I guess I oughta buy you that drink now?"

The two of you made your way to the bar just as Natasha and her three idiots moved back to the pool tables. Mickey and Reuben made kissy faces and "oOooh" sounds as they passed until a quick jab of Natasha's elbow to their sides shut them up. You giggled as you saw the whole interaction, and out of the corner of your eye, you caught Rooster giving Bob a not-so-subtle thumbs up.

Before you'd even made it to the bar, Bob had pulled a chair out for you

"Such a gentleman." You say, hopping up onto the barstool, "I should send your parents a thank-you basket."

He smiled as he sat down on his own stool, his knees brushing yours as he shifted to face you, "If you do, make sure to send those chocolate-covered macadamia nuts, they love those." He said, placing his elbow on the bar and leaning his cheek into his hand.

"Aloha-macs?" you mirrored him, placing your right elbow on the bar and resting your chin on your palm. You crossed your legs, bumping his knees again, your legs were now placed between his.

"Yep, that's the one." He looked down at your crossed legs placed between his, then quickly looked up. "-And also those gold ones, the Ferrerra rochers?"

"Ferrero Rochers and Aloha-macs for the Floyds, I got it." Then your smile shifted into a smirk, "What do I get for the other cowboys?"

Before Bob could come up with a clever response, the sound of someone clearing their throat startled both of you, Penny was standing right there looking between the two of you with a smirk. You both fixed your posture immediately, pulling your elbows off the table and knocking your knees against each other as you scrambled to face the bar.

“Care to introduce me to your new friend, hun?"

“Penny, this is Lt. Bob Floyd and he’s gonna buy me a drink ‘cause I beat him in 8-ball.” You smiled innocently, knowing you had taken her one piece of advice (to “watch out for those aviators”) and threw it out the fucking window.

“Well, it’s very nice to meet you Bob.” She smiles and extends her hand to him

He immediately reaches out to shake her hand and say, “It’s nice to meet you too, Ma’am.”

Penny nodded slowly, as if he had just passed some kind of secret test, then she smiled at you as if to say “yeah, this one’s okay.”

“So what can I get you kids to drink? Another Shirley Temple?”

“Yes please,” you smiled.

“And for you?” She turned to Bob

“May I have a Coke, please?”

“Of course,” she started to move away then gestured to the sign behind her. “Make sure to read the rules, I’d hate to see you stuck paying for the whole bar.”

The two of you leaned to get a better view of the sign it read something like “disrespect a lady, the US Navy, or put your phone on the bar = you pay for a round.”

“You remember that guy from earlier that got thrown overboard?" You leaned in closer to whisper, trying to make sure Penny couldn’t hear you.

"Yeah, I saw him get tossed by Hangman, Coyote, and Payback." He whispered back.

"Who?" you cocked your head to the side, you still haven't put together all the names and callsigns to faces yet.

"Payback is Reuben." he smiled.

"Oh Reuben, okay, so anyways I saw him talking with Penny before she rang the death bell, and she looked pissed with him." You checked to make sure no one (especially Penny) was listening in before finishing your thought, "I think they were a thing."

"A thing?" He leaned in closer now, matching your enthusiasm.

"Mhm." You nodded excitedly, "There's some history there, I can feel it. But when I asked her about it, she told me 'It's a long story' and completely brushed it off."

"You sound invested." he grinned at you.

"Oh I am invested, there is something going on between Penny and Mr. Overboard-” you quietly groaned as the realization hit you, “but I'm never getting an explanation out of her, and he is probably never gonna set foot in this bar again."

“Well if Mr. Overboard is smart, he’ll be back tomorrow with flowers and a damn good apology,” Bob said, like he was repeating words of wisdom passed down from his father.

You smiled at his use of your nickname for the old man, when you noticed Penny walking back over with the drinks you wiped the grin off your face and gave his foot a little nudge with your own. He nodded and pressed his lips together, immediately understanding the signal.

"Here's that Shirley and a Coke, you two just holler if you need anything else." You two thanked her as she moved on to another patron at the other end of the bar.

You raised your glass to Bob and he tapped it with the lip of his bottle with a satisfying 'clink' as you said your cheers. You looked down at the drink in your hands and noticed that Penny had given you two cherries instead of one. Penny Benjamin is also a fantastic wingman.

"Want one?" you asked, holding out a bright red cherry by its stem to him, your other hand placed under to catch any liquid.

"Sure." he said.

You had expected him to take the cherry from you with his hand, not his mouth. Without any shame, this man leaned down and plucked the whole cherry from your fingers with his teeth, taking the stem too. Your mouth hung open in shock before you gave him a nervous chuckle and turned back to your drink. You could feel your cheeks burning as the smooth bastard just smiled like it was nothing and thanked you.

"Wanna see a magic trick?" He asked, and you immediately spun in your seat to face him. He twirled the cherry stem between two fingers and then popped it into his mouth. You made a face and he held up a finger to tell you to 'wait for it' his eyebrows raised. After about fifteen seconds of silence and Bob twisting his mouth and scrunching his nose in concentration, he brought his fingers back to his lips and pulled out the stem... tied in a knot.

"Shut up!" You practically shouted. He laughed and grabbed a napkin to place the stem on, shrugging like it was no big deal. You immediately fished out the second cherry and plopped it into your own mouth, pulling the stem free and holding it out to him with sparkling eyes,

"Can you do it again?"

His ears were pink as he took the stem that had just been between your lips and placed it on his tongue, keeping his eyes locked on yours. After ten seconds of making silly faces, he pulled the knotted stem from his lips and placed it right next to the other one.

Your cheeks burned as you mentally scolded yourself for beginning to wonder just what else his mouth could do.

You spent the next hour chatting with each other, Bob gave you a crash course on all the groups' callsigns, you learned that Natasha's callsign was Phoenix (which is so fucking cool) and Mickey's was Fanboy (which is arguably less cool). Then he pointed out five more pilots near Hangman and Coyote that you hadn’t met.

"Those three are Omaha, Halo, and Fritz." he nodded over to them, "and those two big guys over there are Harvard and Yale."

"Harvard and Yale?" you asked while raising an eyebrow.

"Yep, they've flown together for years now, everybody knows them."

"Lemme guess, their wingman is Princeton?"

"You know it actually might be," he tapped his chin and looked up in fake thought, you laughed and lightly swatted at his arm.

"Okay okay that's enough about them," you shifted in your seat, your legs coming to rest between his again. "What's your favorite food?"

"Street tacos."

"Really?"

"Absolutely, there's some real good places in Lemoore close to base, I would get ‘em for dinner probably four to five times a week."

"What, no tacos in Montana?" you teased.

"There are, but it's not the same." he shrugged. "What about you? What's your guilty pleasure?"

"I'm a sucker for In-N-Out." You laughed.

"I've never tried it, but everyone tells me it's good." he said, taking a sip of his Coke.

"I'm sorry you've been in Cali for how long? And you've never had In-N-Out?!"

He shrugged, "I've just never really got the chance to try it."

"Oh Robbie, we have to fix that." You grinned, "You gotta have a double-double, an animal-fry, and a milkshake. Trust me, it's all part of the experience."

"Well, I guess you'll just have to take me yourself," he nudged you with his elbow, "You know, to make sure I'm getting the full ‘So Cal’ experience."

You laughed and leaned into his touch, your legs were still intertwined under the bar, with your feet resting on the leg rest of his barstool.

"So what do you do for work?"

"I'm in school right now, but I work with kids mostly. Babysitting, tutoring, summer camps all that fun stuff." you replied.

"You like working with kids?"

"Most of the time." You started, "Then there's the times when these kids make me question my life's decisions- like this one girl, Katie, she tells me 'Miss why don't you have a wedding ring?' and I tell her it's because I'm not married, and you know what she says? This girl looks me dead in the eyes and tells me, 'Miss you're too old to not be married!'"

"Kids do say the darndest things sometimes." Bob shook his head slowly and smiled at you. "You must be good with them, though."

"Oh I'm amazing with kids. I taught a class of 30 once, most of them were around four to six. Longest week of my life."

A new voice joined the conversation,

"How about teenagers?" Penny asked wiping down the bar,

"I'm usually just there to make sure they aren't throwing parties while their parents are on a date," you laughed, "but I also do pick-ups and drop-offs, and I've tutored some freshmen in math and chemistry recently."

"That's good to know." She said and pushed a notepad and pen towards you, you quickly wrote down your contact info and she ripped off the piece of paper, folded it, and stuffed it into her pocket.

Bob chuckled as she walked away, "Well, looks like she beat me to it."

"Hm?"

"I really thought I was gonna be the first one to get your number tonight," he laughed and went to readjust his glasses. He noticed some smudges on the lenses and took them off to try and clean them with the bar napkins.

"Here, let me." you reached out one hand to him as you rummaged through your bag with your other. Bob placed his glasses in your palm as you pulled out a small microfiber cloth smiling as you explained,

"I always drive with my sunglasses on and I hate when there's fingerprints or smudges on them, drives me nuts." You laughed at yourself as you cleaned one lens after the other, patient and thoroughly. You held the frames up to the light to check your work, then nodded in satisfaction, but before handing them back you held them out before your eyes and started to scan the room with them half-on.

"Whatcha doin'?" he laughed at you, still looking through his glasses as if they were binoculars.

"Just trying to see the world through your eyes," you said squinting your eyes, "Geez Robbie, you really are blind."

You laughed at each other as he playfully snatched his glasses back, careful not to touch the lenses and mess up all your hard work.

"Thank you," he said, putting his glasses back on and picking up his bottle for another sip.

"No worries, I figure being able to see is probably a pretty important part of your job." you smiled, "Not to mention how cute they are on you.”

He nearly choked.

His whole face turned red and he struggled to regain his composure, coughing into his fist and slamming his other hand down onto his thigh. You couldn't help but laugh at him as you patted his shoulder and leaned down to make sure he wasn't actually dying, he let out a short breath and smiled up at you,

"You're trying to kill me aren't you?"

You laughed, bringing the hand that wasn't resting on his shoulder to his face, giving two soft pats on his cheek. "No of course not, you haven't even gotten my number yet."

When you didn't immediately move your hand away and instead began to lightly stroke his cheekbone with your thumb he gulped, his Adam's apple shifting up and down. He moved his hand to where yours rested on his cheek, his large palm completely enveloping yours, and bringing them down so your small show of PDA was hidden under the bar. He quickly glanced at your lips before looking up, his glance shifting between your eyes, he looked like he was mentally preparing himself to ask you for the biggest favor of your life.

"I'd um- I'd just really like to kiss you right now." he said, plain and earnestly.

"Then why don't you?" you said, glancing down at his lips and then back up to his eyes.

He gave your hand a squeeze and took in a short breath,

"Because I'd have to take you on a proper date first." He smiled nervously, then added "If you'd like that."

You couldn't help but smile at him, he was just so sweet and sincere, there's no reason on earth why you wouldn't immediately say yes-

"Excuse me, sweetheart, but I think your old man is ready to go home." Hangman interrupted, his arm draped around your Uncle, who looked completely shit-faced.

Except for maybe this reason.

"Oh my God," you practically jumped off your chair, his eyes were pink and glassy and his whole face was red.

"Kiddo I want you to meet Lt. Jake Seresin- he's a fighter pilot 'n he graduated Top Gun, best of the best ya know?" he slurred as you grabbed his arm and placed it over your shoulders.

"Yes I'm familiar, thank you Jake it's nice to meet you." you threw a friendly smile at Hangman, "but we're going home now okay? Can I have the keys?"

Bob had left some bills on the bar and grabbed your purse before he made his way over to you, and your Uncle immediately recognized him.

"Ohhhh and who's this?" he asked, playing dumb.

"This is my new friend Robbie, now can I please have the keys so we can go home before Auntie kills us both?"

"Geez Louise don't gotta rush me kiddo." he said as he plopped the keys into your hands, you turned towards the exit, trying to push your uncle to move with you.

Bob still had your purse so he went to follow you but Hangman stopped him with a hand on his shoulder, he raised an eyebrow at him,

"Robbie?" he teased.

"Jake?" he matched his tone as he pushed past him.

Bob helped you get your Uncle into the backseat of the truck, so he could lay down and sober up a bit

"You need to lay on your side grandpa, I don't want you asphyxiating on vomit on the drive back." you shook his leg to get him to turn.

"Alright alright-" he swatted at your hand and shifted onto his side, then clarified "I am her uncle, not her gramps."

"Yes sir, it's good to meet you." Bob replied before shutting the door.

"Oh my God this is a nightmare." You sighed as you leaned your back against the car, running a hand over your face.

"Hey don't worry about it, I'm not here to judge," he smiled at you, leaning his left arm against the truck so he could look at you. "Now about that date..."

You laughed, turning to face him, you fished your phone out of your purse and handed it to him, "Can I have your number?"

"I thought you'd never ask" he smiled and put in his number, "Can I, at least, walk you to the driver's seat."

You snatched your phone from him with a giggle, changing the contact name from "Bob Floyd" to "Robbie ♡", making sure he could see it. True to his word, he walked you all twenty steps to the driver's side and opened the door for you, you smiled as you hopped in.

That smile was wiped from your face the second you looked down to adjust your seat. There were three pedals instead of two.

"Shit"

"What's wrong?" he asked with a hand still on the door, leaning closer to you to try and figure out what the problem was.

"Don't laugh at me, but I only learned to drive automatic." You sighed, "There's no way I can get us home 'cause I don't know how to drive stick shift."

Bob moved his other arm to rest on the top of the car, leaning in so he was just a few inches from your face, his lips shifting into that stupid, adorable boyish grin.

"I do."

Divider by @bernardsbendystraws

(Author's note: Thank you for reading! This one took a bit more time bc of all the dialogue but part 4 should be out pretty soon! This is my first fic so if you have any writing tips or suggestions let me know!)

Taglist: @yyiikes @beebeerockknot @greengoldhorns @pinkpantheris (Comment if you want to be added!)

#bob floyd #bob floyd x reader #robert bob floyd #robert floyd #top gun #top gun maverick #bob floyd x female reader #top gun fanfiction #tgm fic #fanfic #tgm x reader

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verstxppen33 · 9 months ago

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this wasn't meant to happen

summary: oops, you left your diary at his house... | autumn special!

genre: a sprinkle of fluff

warnings: use of y/n

pairing: lando norris x reader // friends to lovers

a/n: super cliché, i know, i know

The raindrops dropped gently against your window, creating a soothing sound. As soothing as it was, it didn't really comfort your anxiousness of your diary being gone. You rummaged through everything and everywhere, even in the bathroom. But it was nowhere to be found.

Unless you've taken it to Lando's house...you took it to Lando's house?!

Meanwhile, Lando found a scarlet-coloured notebook on his bedside table. Out of curiosity, he picked it up and opened it.

"Dear Diary,

Today, I had to take care of a drunk Lando. He kept mumbling about me being so precious and pretty? I didn't quite take it seriously, but the way he spoke was just too affectionate. Not to mention, he was very clingy too."

Lando's eyes shot wide open, as he remembered the morning after "the incident". It was your diary. He quickly shut the diary, a slight blush on his cheeks. He didn't want to invade your privacy, even if all of your thoughts and feelings could just be opened right here and now. It'd be a bad thing to do, right?

He resisted the urge only for a few minutes, letting out a slight giggle and opening up the book and sliding to the next page. He looked around his bedroom like if someone was watching him, then sitting against his headboard and reading curiously.

"Hey there,

Something's going on with my mind, and I don't even have the energy to write anything. Quick and short, I might be in love? With Lando, perhaps? I have no idea. He's just too cute! It's wrong to fall in love with my bestfriend, isn't it? Nevertheless, I have some things to do:"

What? In love? Lando stopped immediately stopped reading. He didn't really care about the other pages now, definitely not your To-do list.

He silently cursed himself for invading your privacy like that and letting his curiosity win over. He closed the book and thought about giving it back to you.

Still in slight panic, you were drinking a cup of tea, leaning against the countertop, wondering where your damn diary was. You almost never wrote into it, but it still felt so damn important. The rain already stopped pouring, leaving an earthy smell in the crisp of the autumn air.

A ring on your doorbell could be heard and you put your cup of tea down, wondering who would it be. As you opened the door, you smiled at Lando's sight, but as your gaze darted over to the scarlet notebook he was holding—your diary, your smile faltered.

"I think it was yours." Lando spoke up sheepishly, holding the diary out for you to take. You rapidly take it from his hands.

"Did...Did you read it?" you ask nervously, even though you had no idea what was in it anymore, since the last time you wrote in it was months ago.

"Maybe, y/n, Maybe." he responded with a faint smile. "I got too curious. And I've think I've read enough." You raised an eyebrow. Was that a good or a bad thing? What the hell did you write into that notebook?

"What did you see, exactly?" you asked curiously, leaning into him unconsciously.

"You're in love with me." Lando responded bluntly with a slight chuckle, noticing your cheeks heating up immediately. "No, it's fine. It's fine. I maybe I am too, and I'm maybe just figuring it out."

Without hesitation, you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him into a hug. He responded to it quickly and wrapping his arms around you as well, grinning widely. He gently lifted his hand to run through the strands of your hair, his hand slightly cold from the autumn breeze.

You two have a lot to figure out.

#f1 #f1 fanfic #lando norris #f1 x reader #lando x reader #lando x y/n #f1 fluff #lando norris x reader #friends to lovers #f1 fic

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velvet-paradox · 8 months ago

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Oops!

Fandom: Call of Duty Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Female reader Summary: you accidently call Simon while taking care of yourself. (got inspo from lovi on twitter) Length: Medium Warnings: NSFW 21+ ONLY, strong language, explicit content, porn with very little plot female masturbation, male masturbation, descriptive actions, anal mentions, toy mentions, A LOT of dirty talking, detailed smut. ENJOY!!!

It's not that his phone is ringing in the middle of the night. It's not even the fact he'd just finally drifted off to sleep either. When he fumbled and grumbled, (of course he was grumbling) Simon Riley wrote the book on the Art of the Grumble you were certain, he was just relieved it wasn't Price. He was exhausted and was thisfuckingclose to telling the captain to pound sand if he had to pull another fifteen hour shift on base!

But no, it was not captain Price and it wasn't Johnny either. The screen of his phone stark white, taunting him in the dark of his room, as the time and your name and picture popped up. The one he'd taken of you and König in Vienna.

What was this about now? Simon huffed, dark blonde brows forming together. You better not be calling him from the bar again, needing a ride home, not trusting anyone else to swoop in to the drunken rescue. You saved money on Uber's and he got to look after you.

WIn - win.

" 'ello bird, what is it this time?"

Silence.

"Foxy, come on now, it's late. If you need a ride jus--"

"Oh yeah, oh that feels so good." You said through your teeth, hissing from a bit of a distance. What was that? Were you getting laid? Jesus H. You sounded breathless, out of it until some more rustling and now your voice wasn't so clouded in mystery.

You whined out something fierce which both confused and interested to the masked devil.

"Fox, can you hear me? Bird answer m--"

Another low whine followed by a low and quiet buzzing. "Oh fuck, I wish you were here. Oh fuck that feels so good, bet you would have a fucking ball using this one me. Oh Simon… please!"

He sat up quickly, his ear to the phone burning hot, a blush of discovery rising through his naked body, Ghost ran hot most nights, even in the winter months and said fuck it about four years ago and slept nude. Either you were having a decent fucking shag with another man named Simon, or you were thinking about him.

Well what have we here, you little sly little fox?

"So glad I got that princess plug, this feels amazing. Oh Simon, if you only knew, if you only fucking knew the things I want from you. What I'd let you do to me, what I want -oohhh fuck too much too much--" you cried and the buzzing stopped abruptly. You were panting and humming and without a second thought Simon's hand was stroking his waking cock through his sheets.

And just what did you want him to do? Simon bit his lip as he listened in, pulling his phone away only for a moment, making sure the volume was at it's highest before he put it on speaker.

"O-oh god, yeah. I don't wanna' cum again just yet! Want you to tease me, tie me up and make a mess. Mmmm maybe you'd make me clean it up too. I'd ride your fucking boots if you asked!"

Oh. Simon was not expecting that sentence or the filthy way you moaned, satisfied with saying it out loud.

"Can I? Can I L.T. can I ride your boots, I'll clean up m-my mess, I promise. Mmm, sitting under desk, your personal desk bunny you're," you really started breathing hard then, whimpering as he could now make out a wet, splotching sort of noise. Oh fuck- you were fingering yourself now. "Your fucktoy. Oh god! Yeah, I wanna' be your little fuck toy. Use me. Use my mouth, use my fucking pussy, I am so wet right now, oh shit!" You giggled wetly to yourself, gasping and Simon could only imagine you adding another finger into your spongy hole.

A fucktoy? boot riding? a plug in your asshole with fingers in your cunt? You were a nasty, freaky little thing. Oh this was better than any video he had watched recently! Interactive as he continued to stroke himself with you, the sheet had earned a wet pre-cum spot and had to be pulled away, Simon put his head down and spat on his cock, smearing his saliva around the girthy crown of it.

You were a dirty girl.

He loved it.

You were demure in the halls, paid close attention to detail, slick and sly when you need be, hence your call sign being Fox. You were quiet but funny, witty and no one had a bad word to drop about about you. Your lore on how you ended up with the 141 was something of legend, a myth that one day you just appeared like an apparition and no one questioned why. Just roll with it. You didn't cause trouble, kept your nose down but you knew things about each team member that soldiers could only dream of knowing. A book of secrets. Clearly.

Simon chuckled darkly to himself all the things you could come up with, possibly thing he hadn't even heard of. Simon wasn't into the BDSM scene, he knew a variety of knots of course but to use them on someone, never given the opportunity. As he spat on his cock again, the image of your face appeared. Maybe you liked to be spat on in too. The cute little whimpers and gasps you were doing on your end might suggest you like a lot more than just spit.

"Simon please! Bet you feel good, I know y-you're big, you'd stretch me out. Make me gape for you, oh fuck that's so hot!" You're erratic, your sheets are rubbing together faster and you're now on the verge of squealing like a stuck piglet. "Hold me down, pull my hair, those big fucking hands of yours on me, in me. Oh baby, finger me nice and deep, deeper than I can reach."

You wanted him so desperately and that made the lieutenant fuck his fist faster, slippery and noisy and wet. His hard cock just sloppily going up and down his shaft, he squeezed the mushroom cap like head of it, felt himself jerk and twitch before going hands free. Slapping it against his messy palm.

"Talk me through it baby, tell me what to do, how to do it. How fast, how slo-ow, oh yeah that's nice. Oh fuck I can feel it coming, I'm gonna' cum again. Shit." You grunted and made the most delicious sound Simon had ever heard in his whole damn life.

You were moaning, tapping the gem of the plug if he were correct.

Tap tap, tap tap.

"Oh yeah! Fuck my ass, finger my pussy, make me cum. Make me squirt, shoot your fat fucking load all over my face. I'll be your best girl, I swear it I swear it! I'm gonna' cum if I pull this out now." You cried, panting to your little hearts' desire. Simon was close too, he did his best to match your moans and sobs of pleasure, planting his feet and bucking his defined hips.

"I'd cum just about anywhere on ya', Foxy." Simon grunted quietly to himself. "Foxy fucktoy. Mmmm that does 'ave a bit of a ring to it, aye? Bad fuckin' girl."

You slapped something then. Your face, a tit perhaps, your pussy but you were whining and carrying on and Simon had to shut his eyes, imagining you working the princess plug in and out.

Oh for fucks' sake, he'd sell his left nut to see your pretty face, worn out, fucked out, in bliss and pleasure, sticking your pink tongue out. Eyes rolled back as you continued to fuck your fingers in tandem with his own fist.

"Gonna' cum oh shit, I'm gonna' cum again. For you. Only for you, sir!" He could hear your sloppy fingers plunging in and out of you pussy, faster and faster, louder and louder you became.

"Oh fuck yes, Simon! Yes, sir!"

You came with a shout, groaning and grunting behind your teeth. You sounded absolutely feral, pornographic. He couldn't hold it back any longer either, Simon bit into his cheek and came into his hand, it shot up and onto his stomach, muscles tight as he coaxed the last dribbling bits of cum onto his skin. He gave his palm a 'good game' type slap with his cock, laying back further into his pillows.

God damn.

"Fuck that was good. If only, if only you were here mmmm." You finally huffed out. You rolled over, to whatever side of your bed or maybe just readjusted yourself and your toys but he heard a clank of something and then your voice, clear as day. "What the fuck…oh my god. Oh no! Oh please don't be a voice note!"

Simon had to chuckle at your change in attitude.

"Oh for the love of… please be asleep. Pleasepleaseplease L.T. be asleep. I didn't mean to call --"

"On the contrary love," Simon held up his phone to his mouth, he heard you gasp on the other end. "I heard every last word and you sounded so damn fine. Bet you're glowing after coming so damn hard," you scrambled for words on your line, mumbling out a sorry excuse for an apology. He clicked his teeth at you like one would a horse. "Ah ah, Foxy. If there's a green Post-it on my door when I wake, your wish will be my command. And I am often fond of those aren't, Fox?"

"Very much so, sir."

"That's a girl. Now why don't you go get cleaned up and get some rest. Depending on your answer, soldier, you just might need it."

Simon chuckled to himself when he rose that morning, his entire door was covered with little green Post-its and none were the wiser when you passed each other in the mess hall.

#just a little something #love me some ghost even tho I don't write much for him #simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley imagine #simon ghost riley imagine #cod fic #cod smut #cod imagine

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ch-4-eri · 1 year ago

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Use Me — Jill Valentine.

jill X fem! reader.

warnings: smut, p in v, strap use, strap referred to as ‘cock’. verbal abuse, very mean jill (oops), overstimulation, spitting, crying, swearing (lots of it) let me know if i miss anything i wrote this at 6am sorry if there’s any mistakes (it is proofread ish).

word count: 2.6k

you tossed and turned in bed as the clock read 12am, typical.

jill’s light snoring is all you could hear as your thoughts wandered and wandered for probably an hour now, stealing glances at jill every now and then.

she came back from her job, ate something, had a little conversation with you, then she quickly went to bed, which you couldn’t even blame her for, jill worked for so long and she does this for the both of you, she deserves her rest.

but your ovulation week had other ideas.

you were an aching horny mess.

tossing and turning made it worse because any movement you’ve made involving your legs would drive you crazier, staying still wasn’t helping either, you were a cat in heat.

as your mind kept you awake, your eyes went to your sleeping girlfriend, jill’s arms hugged the pillow as she was breathing slowly and steadily, she looked so peaceful and here you were, an inappropriate film was going off in your head.

your fingers went to her arm, nudging her slightly. “jill?”

jill groaned in response, her brows furrowed. “jill…” you repeated, wishing she’d register it sooner.

she groaned once more, her eyes fluttering.

“jill… i’m.. horny.” you dropped it, like she wasn’t even half asleep.

“what the fuck..” she mumbled tiredly, her tone groggy but all it did was send your pussy pulsating, you felt so pathetic.

you nudged her arm again. “just wake up..”

“touch yourself in the bathroom or something!” she says, blowing you off with a dismissive hand.

“of course not.. it doesn’t feel as good as when you do it.”

“i’m sleeping.”

“you’re awake now.”

as soon as you said that, jill rose up from the bedsheets with a groan, she was fuming.

one thing about jill is that you knew she hated being woken up for no reason, especially when she needed the sleep so badly, she worked her ass off early in the day and she can’t rest from your whiny little voice and your hormones.

you knew you were testing her but it wasn’t on purpose, the ache inside of you hurt the whole day and you can’t ignore it anymore, even when jill rubbed the sleep out of her angry eyes, sipped some water off the bedside table bottle she keeps on her when she’s dehydrated from her deep slumber.

“i’m getting so fucking tired of you.” jill spat, closing the bottle aside and runs her thick fingers through her short brown hair, you frowned slightly at her words but you deserved it, lowkey, yet all of this was making you even more horny, the ache between your legs was unbearable.

“so fucking sick of you, i can’t fucking sleep in this goddamn house.” jill says again, standing up from the bed, still trying to get herself more awake to deal with you, you were a little happy about the fact that you got her to wake up but she was so moody, not that you deserved to complain about her mood, maybe she’d fuck you but she wouldn’t be nice about it.

she turned to face you as she tucked her hair behind her ears, her blue eyes sit on yours.

“take off your clothes… off. now.” she demands, her tone pissy and controlling.

“w-what?” was all you managed which somehow made jill even more angry, you could swore she would hit you or something, she never did, but she was too patient with you before, you wondered when she’d snap like that? it was sick of you to imagine jill hitting you for asking her for sex like that, jill would never lay a hand on you, not for the purpose of seriously hurting you, she always watches out with the way she deals with you, she knows you can’t handle her full strength.

“you seriously fucking woke me up just to ‘what’ me? take off your fucking clothes! you know what—“ she says her eyes wide open in anger, her face red as her veins popped out of her neck.

jill climed up the bed and grabbed your shorts, pulling them down your legs forcefully as you let out a yelp. “shut the fuck up! i’m so sick of you!” she argued, her fingers found your thin shirt and took that off as well.

you weren’t fighting it, but as much as it was turning you on, you wondered if she was truly this mad at you and it made you anxious, your heart dropped to your stomach at the idea, her tone and the way she handled your clothes, yet you were getting so wet anyway, your mind and cunt had two different opinions about this.

her fingers dragged down your panties, throwing them off the floor. pushing you down onto the mattress, opening your legs with a strong palm separating your knees, you could seriously salivate from this moment alone.

but before she did anything else, she unclasped your bra, she didn’t look impressed in the slightest, yes jill was used to your body, knew you every inch, every freckle, but now that she wasn’t even complimenting you, made your heart drop even more, horny and anxious all at once.

jill threw your bra on the floor with a force, grabbing your face in her palm.

“which part of i’m sleeping did you not understand?!” she shouts, her fingers ghosting your sticky area, it was pulsating, calling her name.

“jill…” you breathed, hoping she’d go easy on you, you were terrified but oh so excited your pussy was tightening around nothing. “are you really that much of a needy whore?” she spats, her eyes narrowed like she was truly shaming you for it, like she was a total prude and would throw rocks at you for behaving this way.

“every other day.. every other week you need me to fuck you, or else you wouldn’t fucking let me sleep!” she slams her fists onto the mattress, making you jump, your eyes watering at her behavior, but so was your dripping wet hole.

“you know what? i will fuck you..” jill heaved, grabbing your face into her fist. “i’ll fuck you so hard, so hard you won’t be able to walk, or even talk. fuck you dumb enough you’ll stop talking altogether and let me have my own fucking peace for once, that’s what pretty sluts like you deserve, should be grateful i even give you the light of day, you’re a brat, and i’m so sick of you taking and sucking the life out of me.” jill spoke, letting go of your face with a force as you shed a tear, her words hurt so bad but you needed her just as badly.

she got out of bed then, the sound of her feet as she went to look for her strap were too loud, putting all her energy in the stomping, you sat up a bit; rubbing your thighs together, wiping the tear off your cheek.

the sound of the drawers opening and closing was all you could hear echoing in the bedroom, jill wouldn’t look at you either, as she finally took out her strap, she walked closer to you in bed, she usually always slid a condom over it as you requested so, saying the feeling of it inside you was a bit uncomfortable, but now that you’re too wet for that she decided to just smear her spit over it.

jill spat on her palm, rubbing it across the rubbery tip so she can slide it in easier, yes she was mad at you, but she hated to think she’d wanna hurt you on purpose.

she climbed on the bed, strap perfectly wrapped around her hips, wet enough to slide inside of you as she parted your legs once again with her hands, positioning herself between your legs, brows furrowed, gaze averted.

you bit down your lip as you watched her get on top of you, her necklace dangling over your head, her tits peeking out of her loose gray tank top, no bra underneath.

she rubs the tip against your hole, teasingly so. “shh.” jill demands as soon as you started making noise.

“fuck you’re so tight..” jill cussed, sliding her cock in as you let out a gasp. “all this fucking and stretching you out didn’t loosen you up? damn girl.” she grunts, surprised at her change of tone, she was fully bottomed out as she started thrusting inside of you, your hands were shaking as they placed themselves on her hips, fucking yourself into her, the tip kissing your cervix with every thrust.

“is that good, slut?” jill says, forcing your chin between her fingers. “i’m not a slut.” you argued, your voice strained as you were fucked out. sweat already breaking out from your forehead.

“sure you’re not… look at you swallowing that cock whole… always begging me to fuck you, always demanding and whining for it.” she fucks into you deeper, making you see stars as it shut you up completely.

“good girl, i like it when you keep that pretty mouth shut.” jill continues thrusting, the sound of your squelching was like music to her ears. “you belong to me don’t you?” she whispered to herself, going faster just to see how you’d react, seeing the way you pulsate against her cock, the way you rock your hips to match her pace with your moans strained and your legs aching.

“hhhhnnn… jill i’m so close.” you managed, your finger nails digging into her waist from underneath her shirt, then your hands grabbed at her breasts, which drove jill crazy to just get you to cum, her pace went faster and faster, her girlfriend’s mouth open, eyebrows furrowed in pleasure as you squeeze at her tits, your thumb circling her sensitive buds, making jill squirm inside of you as she forced your wrists away with her hands, pinning you down on the bed with one hand, the other taking each one of your ankles and throws it over her shoulders, making the strap go in so much deeper as you let out a choked gasp.

jill had to take a second and look at you like that, sweaty forehead, red cheeks, lips so red and pretty, the position was a little different from every other one you’ve both been in before by her.

but she took a mental note to do this again, legs on her shoulders, your eyes closed and your breathing uneven as she refuses to move inside of you. watching the way your breasts moved as you squirmed and whined underneath her, jill can’t resist you and she knows it, no matter how angry she became, how fucking stubborn she gets especially after a terrible day at work which is every other day, she has a beautiful girlfriend she can use however she pleases, you’re her pretty little thing, her whole world, she’d probably crumble if she came back home and didn’t find you there.

“look at me..” jill softly says, a drastic change from her tone earlier as your eyes fluttered open, staring into her blue ones.

“i love you.” jill whispers as she begins to move her hips forward and continues to thrust inside of you, the tip abusing your cervix as her words made this even more intense and overwhelming.

you eyes watered, recalling her words from just a few minutes ago, compared to this. you couldn’t focus as you got even more stretched out, crying out loud from how good it felt then from how much you feared like you were losing her and this was her last straw.

“shh..” jill whispered once more, her tongue flicking against her bottom lip as she let go of your hands, holding them in hers as she fucked into you so much faster than before, sending the bed rattling against the wall, creeking against the floor while your lips met in a hungry kiss, tongue and teeth clashed as you were chasing your high, sensation so overwhelming you whined into her mouth, jill’s hands grabbed yours as she led you through such an intense orgasm, you were terrified.

you screamed, moaned, writhed, unsure of the noise that came out of you when you gushed all that you have against jill’s cock.

jill noticed.. and she slowly pulled out, mumbling sweet words and kissing your forehead, cheeks, lips, she overstepped a line and she was willing to make it up to you.

“shh.. you did so good, such a good girl.” she mumbled, rubbing her thumb against your cheek as you were trying to get a hold of yourself.

“it’s alright sweetheart… you did good.” she whispers into your ear. “i’ll be back.. okay?” was all jill said as she climbed off the bed, taking off the strap that needed cleaning now, not that you’d notice from how much you were vibrating and overwhelmed.

jill came back a few moments later, a cloth to clean you up and some water to hydrate you.

she carefully sat next to you and helped you sit up with a kiss to your forehead. “i’ve got you.” she mumbled, grabbing the cloth in her rough hand, slowly holding it up your thighs as you were too sensitive, you closed your legs in on her.

“can’t..” you shook your head, keeping your knees together. “i have to clean you up baby..” jill murmured, taking a hold of your thigh once again, cleaning up the cum off it. wiping it all the way up to your sensitive core as you squirmed. “jill.. careful.”

“i’ve got you..” jill repeated, cleaning you gently, watching the way you were limb on the bed, you were breathtaking.

as soon as she finishes cleaning you up and putting you into new panties and clothes, giving you some water as you drank the whole bottle. “easy… it’s not going anywhere.” jill mumbled, climbing on the bed next to you, recalling how mean and disrespectful she was to you early on, making her heart twist into her chest.

she took you in her arms, your smaller frame fit so perfectly into her, you wrapped your arms around her as she kissed your forehead.

“i’m sorry… i didn’t mean what i said.” jill finally said, she can’t let you go on thinking this is how she thought of your relationship, she loves you so much.

“there’s no excuse for me to talk to you like that, not when you needed me. i’m sorry baby..” jill added while wrapping her arms around you tighter, securing you into her grip gently.

“it’s okay..” you sighed, she noticed how non verbal you get after such a loud and messy orgasm, she’s glad it’s not because you were mad at her or resentful of what she said. “it’s not.. i don’t want you to be mad at me though, i can’t take it.” jill whispered into your hair, brushing a hand over your belly.

“i’m not mad.” you finally said after a moment of silence. “no?” “no.”

jill sighed in relief and kissed the tip of your nose, making your eyes close as she pulled the blanket over both of you, hoping you’d get a good night's sleep. she still needed to do so much to make it up to you, you’re her angel.

you snuggled up to her, eyes closed and heavy with sleep. jill brushing your hair with her fingers, her face so close to yours as she watched every flutter of your lashes, every time you opened your mouth and closed it. she leaned in and kissed your lips, unable to get enough of you as you kissed her back, barely, you were probably half asleep.

“i’m not mad.” you reassured her softly, which was enough to make jill go through the night without some exaggerated grand gesture, both of you falling asleep in each other’s arms.

#jill valentine #jill valentine smut #jill valentine x female reader #jill valentine x you #jill valentine x reader #resident evil smut

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hermitcraftheadcanons · 2 months ago

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For the Backstories prompt! I wrote a lot so uh oops.

Etho is a living glitch as well as the oldest thing in existence, although he’s not the first Player, that goes to Steve. Etho went about for a while, refusing being patched and annoying the Devs, but eventually he started seeing more Players running around, and decided that he wanted to try the whole Player thing out.

After he became a Player he started working on his own world, gaining a little audience in the process. Whenever he’s in his let’s play world he’s watched by ten beings that he calls the Script Writers, although they’re pretty harmless and don’t actually have control over him. They like to leave him suggestions for what he should do and watching him is their favorite activity. Etho knows about them, but they don’t interact with him outside of leaving him ‘scripts’, so he mostly ignores them.

There had been an incident where the book they left him had gotten most of its pages torn out, and any words left were corrupted beyond repair. Etho eventually found the stolen pages in the side of a mountain, as well as the thieves. He’s not sure where the 404 clones came from, or how those twisting halls and rooms even got there, but he hasn’t seen either of them again in a long time.

Pearl’s past is a bit less chaotic (though she definitely still had crazy things happen). She’s from a small village and lived a pretty normal Lunar childhood. She was born during a clear night underneath that world’s beautiful Milky Way, gifting her magic related to the wide and colorful expanses of space alongside the usual moon related magic.

She was trained in the arcane and observatory, and considers herself very close to the Sky Mother. She met Grian when they were both pretty young, and after many more years she joined Hermitcraft — just in time for the moon to come crashing down. Pearl eventually found out that Tango had been claimed by the Sky Mother thanks to her amusement at his attempt to destroy the moon, and has offered him help with figuring out his new Lunar magics.

Speaking of Tango, the first several years of his life were very eventful. He wasn’t born, instead having been a patch of fire that gained sentience and a bit of magic. He wandered around on his own for a while, building himself an organic body based off of features from various beings and mobs he came across. He was chased away by quite a few Players and away from quite a few villages before meeting Skizz, who quickly ‘friendnapped’ him and took him home (much to Impulse’s disappointment and confusion).

Tango didn’t talk to Imp & Skizz for a couple months, but eventually he got used to them. Besides, living with them was a lot more comfortable than wandering aimlessly, and it was nice to finally talk to people who didn’t try attacking him. Impulse was pleasantly surprised that Tango didn’t immediately book it as soon as he managed to get outside again, and Tango’s been friends with Imp & Skizz ever since.

It's been hard for Tango to get used to this new form of magic- it's nothing like the fire abilities he's had his whole life. But Pearl is helpful, and he's already thinking of ways to use it in minigames.

-Mod Mleem

#hermitcraft #ethoslab #pearlescentmoon #tangotek #mod mleem

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listofwhyyouloveher · 11 months ago

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Gang x reader who is latina that talked Spanish in front of them for the first time. For example, the reader asked them to bring them something in Spanish and they didn't understand?? Also I love your works

Summary: The reader speaking spanish with the gang for the first time. Warnings: none Author's Note: short today, something bugging out w tumblr... oops PONYBOY CURTIS Pony actually asked you to speak spanish with him before he heard you saying it naturally. He needs to study for his spanish test and asked you to help him with pronounciation. Because of this you're now helping him everyday and testing his knowledge by asking him random questions. He thinks its super cool that you can speak more than one language and finds it really attractive because he really values intelligence. JOHNNY CADE Johnny isn't all that smart when it comes to different languages. He'll pick up on the basics like "hello," and "i love you" (which he never says in spanish because he feels like his american accent might make embarrassing) But everything else that you've tried to teach him just flew over his head. One day, you were completely zoned out and thought you were talking to your parents and asked him for a glass of water in spanish. He looked so confused and you had to explain it to him. he made more of an effort to learn your language after that. SODAPOP CURTIS

Soda took spanish in school too, but he has the most god-awful accent and he rarely uses it so he's lost most of his knowledge. He refrained from speaking spanish with you because he thought he'd mess up and say something wrong or embarrassing. He only started after you initiated it. He vaguely understood what you were saying and completed your task accordingly. You praised him for his understanding and he really enjoyed having you proud of him. he started learning just so you could smile and say that he was doing good. STEVE RANDLE Steve also took spanish with Soda, and he didnt goof off in class, he actually paid attention!! He's pretty good at spanish, he can hold a conversation on his own, which is technically how he met you. But he hasn't heard you speak spanish in a while, so when he does hear you ask for something in your native language he's so happy that you're comfortable speaking with him. He tries to initiate more conversations in spanish and also gets you to teach him a lot more. TWO BIT MATHEWS Two Bit took spanish but he was always goofing off in class and crumpled and threw more papers than he wrote on. He knows the most basic of the basic words, but other than that he's totally clueless. Especially when you talked to him in spanish because you can speak kind of quickly. He's a little ashamed that he cant understand you, and he's afraid to admit it, but you understood and just repeated yourself in english. He made it his goal to learn a little more basic phrases and actually understand you a little bit. DARRY CURTIS Darry's grades had always been at the top, that includes his spanish class. He was really good and could understand a lot. He was pretty keen on trying to be fluent but those plans fell through. He's not kept up his practice so he thought you would help him once and a while, but he's too shy to ask you to start speaking your native language with him. He waits for you to say something in spanish by mistake to respond and make it known that he's actually pretty damn good at spanish. After that, he's always trying to talk to you in your mother tongue! DALLAS WINSTON This man doesnt know shit and you know it. He never showed up to his spanish class, and when ever he did he'd just write obscenities on the chalkboard. The only spanish words he knows are "hola, chica" which he uses to very crudely pick up girls with that DAMN NEW YORK ACCENT. and cuss words, he knows a lot of spanish cuss words. Just to get on his nerves he'll just spew random cuss words in spanish when he feels like it. He once got you soooo pissed that you just started yelling at him in spanish. (do you guys remember that one clip of the goth girl yelling at this white boy in spanish at school or is it just me) he thinks its lowkey really cute and he'll rub it in your face that you don't 'scare' him. HES SUCH A DICKHEAD WHY IS HE SO CUTE RAHH

#shroomsroom #the outsiders x reader #clara'sroom #dallas winston x reader #steve randle x reader #dally winston x reader #johnny cade x reader #sodapop curtis x reader #darrel curtis x reader #darry curtis x reader #ponyboy x reader #ponyboy curtis x reader #pony curtis x reader #two bit matthews x reader #two bit x reader #two bit mathews x reader #sodapop and reader #sodapop x reader #soda curtis x reader

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stellarnightstalk · 1 year ago

Text

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐑𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐕𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐖𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐀 𝐃𝐢𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐜𝐞!

pt. 1

I think I took a little too long to upload

The smell of ink and paper enters your nostrils, the balled-up sheets scattered around your mattress as you keep writing in your journal, or, her journal.

To cure the boredom you've been attempting to write down ideas to get him to divorce you, but always end up with scribbled pages or the paper balls you have around you. You placed the bottom of the fountain pen on your pursed lips in thought, and started writing.

Idea number 14: Beg him so much to divorce you to the point he just feels pity and accepts.

Idea number 15: Murder him and keep the insurance mo— “Yeah, no.” You tear the page apart and crumple it into a ball. Standing up from the mattress, you walk to the fireplace that you have installed in your bedroom and toss the paper ball into the blaze. "Can't risk being framed for something I only thought of doing."

Two weeks have passed since the conversation you had with Cedric. The king's daughter had already made herself comfortable in the estate about a week ago. Ever since then, you've made it your mission to avoid any problems between the two protagonists.

But, in addition to the heroine living with you, ever since you asked for a divorce, he has taken the liberty of “not neglecting you” and has attempted to arrange that every single day the both of you meet up in the garden for some quality tea time. An hour, every day. Which made the whole situation more difficult than it had to be. So naturally you refused him, which in return made him bring you expensive jewelry and dresses every day, the room was practically piling up.

You felt yourself trip on a diamond necklace that you had forgotten you had thrown on the floor and you fell head first on the cold ground with a yelp. Speak of the devil. Standing up from the floor, you grabbed onto your forehead and hissed, “Shit, that burns.” You glared at the necklace below your feet, angrily clutching the expensive item and stomping toward a window. You unlocked it, flinging it across who knows where. “Stop sending me gifts that aren’t money!”

“Gah!” A startled yelp echoed. Peering outside, you caught a glimpse of a messenger boy rubbing the back of his head, then you quickly closed the window. “Oops,” It probably didn't hurt that much. You made your way to the bed and retrieved the journal, flipping to the very first page. There revealed handwriting that clearly wasn't yours, the cursive letters written neatly and precise, with each letter flowing smoothly into the next. The villainess used to write a lot in this journal, seems like she didn't have anyone to speak to. It’s mostly just angry banter, as you'd expect from a villainess.

A piece of paper peeked out from one of the pages, out of curiosity you pulled it out and were met with a small portrait of the villainess. She looked young, probably in her teens. Her face was serious, expressing how she obviously didn't want to be there. Quite adorable. You flipped the tiny image, checking if there was a date on the backside. Instead, there was writing.

You still hold the same expression to this day. Don't forget to write letters, I'm here if you ever need me. - With Love, I.A

"IA? What kind of code name is that?" If you remember correctly, the villainess never had any friends, so whoever wrote this letter is beyond your knowledge. Could this be a background character? It doesn't seem that important if he was acquainted with the villainess. But the words stuck with you—could you ask this person for help? They did say they're here if you ever need them. But you don't even know who they are. Did the villainess trust this stranger?

Someone knocked on your door gently. “Your Grace?” You quickly hid the journal under the bed, grabbing all the paper balls in your arms and throwing them into the furnace to dispose of them fast. Out of breath, you sat on the bed, “Um… Your Grace?” The person repeated and you cleared your throat. “Come in.” You straightened your posture, as if you had just woke up.

The door gently opened, revealing a young maid. She bowed, her light brown bangs were covering her eyes. You hadn’t been in this place for long, but you think you knew all the people that worked here. She was new, you were sure of it. But why does she look so familiar?

“Good evening, Your Grace. The Duke has sent me after you for tea time,” she said with a slight tremble. Gosh, of course. “Tell him I won’t be there.” You stood up, striding to a luxurious vanity next to your bed, you looked at the mirror and touched your face. You never get used to the face. Changing your stare to the maid you noticed her narrowing her eyes from your gaze. You raised an eyebrow, “I'm sure that won't be a problem.” She gripped the handle, “Well, um, the thing is—”

She opened the door completely, revealing a variety of boxes stacked on top of each other. “He instructed me that if you disagreed, to hand over all of these.” You deadpanned. Of course, he’d do the same shit. “Should I… Bring it in?” She asked nervously but you raised a hand, rubbing your temple with the other. “No, there’s no need.” You sighed, getting to your feet and walking towards her, “Take me to my husband.” You mentally cringed at your words. “Of course, Your Grace!” She made her way around the boxes and placed her hands in front of her, accompanying you to Cedric, but you couldn't shake off the feeling that you recognized her.

“I have a question for you,” you started, making her slightly flinch at your words, ”What is your question, Your Grace?” She gulped, it looked like she was nervous. You're sure by that reaction that the rumors of the villainess had reached her ears, they all enjoy gossiping. “What is your name?”

“My name?” She tilted her head, confused by the sudden question but then she shook her head, terrified once more. “Apologies. My name is Edith,” She managed to stutter out.

Edith? That was the name of the villainess's most loyal maid. You examined her from top to bottom, earning a gulp from her. She was nothing like the novel described, she was squirmish and timid, while in the novel she was serious and brazen, which was the reason the villainess was interested in her. No wonder you didn't recognize her, she's a completely different character. But how?

“Which residence did you come from?” You decided to keep prying her with questions, if she was the villainess's most loyal servant you’d like to get her on your side. The correct answer on her part is that she came from a residence that the Duke conquered and that she was practically born to be a servant her whole life.

“I came with Her Highness, Your Grace.”

What? No, she didn't. You've read that novel like five times you practically have all the details memorized. There's no way in hell that she came with the princess, she still has the rights of a commoner. Since she hasn't been crowned, she didn't come with maids, she got appointed them after. Did you forget? Are you slowly losing your old memories, including the novel?

You bit your nails anxiously. One thing is for the course of the plot to be changed because of your actions since you reincarnated, but the land the Duke conquered was long before you came here. You couldn't have changed it because you weren't even there to alter it, it should have been like the story described it to be.

“Are you… Sure?” She looked at you perplexed, the question was dumb, and you knew that, but maybe she heard you wrong. “Um, yes, Your Grace.” Her voice cracked, so she cleared her throat, “I'm positive I came with the princess, I was with her in the carriage on her way here.” You shouldn't have been!

“You two must be close for you to ride in the same carriage as her.” Deny, deny! You thought, instead she looked away sheepishly. “Well, me and Ann— I mean, the princess and I have been close since childhood.” Childhood? You don't have a childhood! Edith was born into work and didn't have time for friends, which was why she kept to herself.

This situation was worse than you had anticipated. Edith was a significant asset to the villainess, and you needed her to be by your side. You opened your mouth to speak, but stopped when you realized that you had arrived at your destination. The place you were in was a greenhouse that belonged to the Duke. It was beautiful from the outside, and you wouldn't be surprised if it was just as stunning on the inside. Cedric always spent his time here; it was his safe place, but he never let the villainess enter. What had changed now?

Edith opened the gates of the greenhouse and went inside, you followed suit, taking in the view. The flowers looked beautiful, it was apparent that they were being taken care of very well. As you looked around your eyes were met with Cedric, his signature serious expression on his face made you sigh in response. It looks like he didn't notice you were here yet.

“Duke Ironheart, the Duchess has arrived.” Said Edith, bowing with a slight tremble. His head turned to you quickly, you swore you heard a slight crack when he did. Cedric cleared his throat before speaking, “Good, you may leave us be. Stand outside with the others.” He said to Edith, which she in return quickly nodded and walked at a fast pace outside the greenhouse.

Before you could say anything, he spoke up, extending his hand at the chair in front of him. “Have a seat.”

You gulped in an attempt to get rid of an anxious lump. “Right, of course.”

——➻

Grabbing the teacup in front of you, you sipped it carefully. As you did, an overwhelming taste of bitterness invaded your mouth, making you cough at the unexpected flavor as you placed the teacup down.

“This tea,” You began, clearing your throat, “is it a new blend? I've never tried it.” You looked at the male in front of you. “Is it not to your liking?”Cedric spoke.

“It’s a bit bitter but nothing I can’t handle.” You replied to the man, grabbing the teacup to sip from it once more. He stared at you and suddenly clasped the top of your teacup, slightly bumping his gloved knuckles into your nose. The hell?

“I reckoned you liked this kind of tea.” He took the tea from you and sipped it himself. His eye twitched. “My mistake. It appears that it is too bitter for the intended taste.” He glared beside him, making the maids flinch and look the other way, then he looked back at you. “Do not force yourself to drink something you dislike. Throw a tantrum as you did, or anything.” He declared sternly, which made it seem like he was ordering you to do it. He says that so easily but whenever the villainess threw tantrums he’d always put her on probation or give her the silent treatment.

“Take the tea away, fetch something less bitter.” He said to the maids without a look, pointing at your cups. They took it, eagerly nodding and going their merry way. You watched them leave the garden with a sigh, “Your Grace, I was just fine with the previous tea.” Your words came out with a twinge of irritation, he simply crossed his arms.

“You don't address me by my name anymore.” He said, changing the subject. “Is that a problem?” You feign innocence, tilting your head to display your confusion. A hum could be heard from him due to your response, making you shift uncomfortably in your seat. The exchange ended there.

As you both sat beneath the shade of a weeping willow, the space between you two was now crammed with an uncomfortable silence. You tapped your finger on the table anxiously, looking towards the flowers on your left. Does the duke have a staring problem? You've been sensing his gaze ever since the maids left as if he's analyzing your soul or something.

"The flowers are in full bloom," you said, just to break the uncomfortable stillness. “It looks quite beautiful.” He hummed at your words, "You've noticed," he said with a subtle smile, which surprised you. "How could I not?" you chuckled, stopping when you felt his piercing gaze once more. "You weren't one to notice these kinds of things." Damn, you forgot about that. "I suppose I'm catching a glimpse of the more beautiful things in life." He gazed at the flowers and then at you. He stayed like that for a few seconds. "I suppose I am too," Cedric responded and you gave him an awkward smile, and once more, there was now uneasy silence.

As you glanced sideways, a cluster of vibrant daffodils caught your attention. You weren't lying when you said that the sight of the flowers was beautiful, especially against the environment of spring.

“The King is planning to hold a grand ball,” Cedric spoke up, choosing to break the silence, which came across as out of character for him. “Is that so?” You answered back with a hum, crossing your legs. “You will attend, of course. It would be unseemly for the Duchess to absent herself from such an important event.”

Right, the villainess was known for skipping out on balls that she thought held no interest for her. And when she did go, she’d always somehow be the center of attention, in considerably nasty ways.

Now that you recall, in the novel, the princess was exceptionally skilled and was able to learn etiquette at a fast pace, but since she was raised as a commoner she didn't know how to read or write, which caused her to stay for longer. Thus Cedric stepped in to help her, and she was able to learn quickly as well, which caught his attention more and made him develop deeper feelings of curiosity. Since the kingdom did not know yet of the princess's existence he decided to organize a ball to introduce his heir to the throne, which would also be her coming-of-age ceremony.

“Is there a specific reason for the decision?” You questioned him, seeking closure if your suspicions were correct. Your eagerness to continue the conversation appears to please him.

“The Princess has learned sufficiently.” He explained, earning a look from you, intrigued. He held a subtle smile when you did. “His Majesty has made the decision to ultimately make it known of his heir, it is also the Princess’s coming of age as well. He has sent us an invitation to attend.” So you were right. When he concluded his words, he handed you the invitation, which you snatched quickly. It held a golden lion engraved on its side, confirmation that it was sent from the royal household.

The grand ball exists as a monumental scene from the novel, that’s where the villainess tosses wine on the princess’s gown because Cedric asked her to dance instead of the villainess. When questioned, she cried out that the princess was a harlot who sought to steal her husband. Which resulted in Cedric lashing out at the villainess and taking the teary-eyed heroine to the royal garden. This is where they have a moment to exchange their feelings in silence, when the cold-hearted duke finally learns to trust another.

“When is it taking place?” You questioned, switching your stare from the invitation to him, placing the envelope on the table. “In three days.” He simply said, resting his cheek on his hand.

Your eyes widened, In three days? It’s only been a week. In that time the princess hasn't even learned how to read, let alone write. Cedric noticed your reluctance to speak, “Is that a problem?” He questioned, raising an eyebrow. “No, not at all. Just a bit surprised is all.” “Why so surprised?” Why so many questions? You mentally scowled. “It’s only been a week since the princess has been staying in the dukedom, yet she's already leaving.”

It’s just too sudden, you don't think you're mentally prepared. Maybe you could call in sick? Knowing Cedric he’ll probably call a thousand physicians and when he finds out you were lying he’ll put you on probation in the same ways he did to the villainess, or even worse, execute you for daring to disrespect him.

“I am the one who recommended the king to do it as momentarily as possible.” So you can cut off my head sooner?! “May I ask why you suggested that?” You asked sincerely, holding the ball in two days means that the princess will leave earlier than intended. That's not supposed to happen.

Some really important scenes were supposed to happen before the ball. The random count who was trying to court the female lead hasn't been introduced, which means he hasn't had confusing feelings of jealousy yet. That's why he asked the princess for a dance at the ball instead of the villainess. Or the slip-and-catch trope where she slipped while walking and landed on his massive chest creating unresolved tension for 3 whole pages.

Could it be that the plot is moving on faster than intended? Or not even happening at all?

He gazed at you with a blank stare for a moment without uttering a word. His expression became murky as he crossed his arms and leaned his head back onto the chair. “No particular reason.”

“Why? Are you jealous?” He questioned with a tilt of his head, his gaze boring into you. You deadpanned.

"What? No, of course not. Why would I be?" you replied bluntly. “It brings me joy that the princess has been able to learn quickly actually.” You smiled, “She must be a very clever lady.” Too clever, can't she slow it down a bit? You're trying to get you both a happy ending.

“You haven't met her, yet you are here praising her.” The furrowed eyebrows he had caught your attention. “Is there a problem with me complimenting the princess?” In the novel, Cedric is a very jealous man. But does he really feel jealous of another woman complimenting the female lead too? Weirdo.

“No, forget I said anything.” Gladly. And for the third time, again, silence. But it was for the better, you didn't want to speak for longer than you had to. This conversation was long enough for you to ignore him for about two weeks, it's draining to speak in such a royal matter, you always confuse your words.

But it made you anxious, the silence. Almost like he was scheming something, planning your execution right in front of you without your knowledge. What you would give just to have a look inside his mind, to know what he's pondering. Couldn't the villainess have powers? They debuffed her character just for the protagonist's plot armor.

Cedric was about to speak, but he was interrupted by the opening gates of the garden, which you assumed were the maids bringing out the newly brewed tea. "Thank you for the tea," You declared, making yourself more comfortable in the seat. "You're free to excuse yourself." You added, then changed your gaze to look at the person in front of you.

“Your Grace,” the maid bowed, her voice trembling slightly, a tray of tea resting in her hands. “Princess Annabeth has arrived. She has brewed you both some tea.”

Your eyes widened at the sight before you, the lady in front of you was in fact, a maid as you thought it had been, but she was accompanied by another. “Your Highness.” Spoke out Cedric, his stare now fully concentrated on the girl. “Good evening, Your Grace.” The young girl said with a radiant smile, the dimples on her cheek in full view. Her golden curls lay neatly on her face, confirming that she was the king's daughter since blonde hair was a sign of royal blood. Her emerald eyes looked directly at Cedric, and your eyes looked directly at her. The descriptions of her beauty in the novel were not exaggerated in the slightest.

Thump.

Grabbing onto your chest, you suddenly felt a familiar pang of jealousy. It was the same jealousy she had felt in the novel, shit. This must be the villainess's body reacting to her presence. You took a deep breath and tried to control yourself. This body had reactions that you couldn't control at all, when you reincarnated it didn't just come with her looks, it came with everything intact. Causing you to have out-of-control emotions, her emotions. This could be difficult to manage.

The female lead, Annabeth, was right in front of you, her hands behind her back. She looked like a young teenager, which made you remember that in the story she had just turned 18.

"I appreciate your help, Belda. You may excuse yourself," Annabeth said to the maid, whom you now know as Belda. “Of course.” She nodded, placing the tray on the table. Then made her way out of the room, closing the door with a bang, leaving the three of you alone. Cedric spoke up, not wasting a moment of silence.

“What are you doing here? I thought you were practicing your writing, as I had told you to do.” his words made Annabeth chuckle. You saw her tuck a curl behind her ear, placing her hands behind her back. “It’s my break time from practicing so that I can regain my focus,” She paused, slightly glancing at you. “In the meantime, I wanted for you two to try my new blend of tea.” She admitted, shifting her gaze from you to Cedric. Her eyes widened.

“I’m sorry, did I interrupt something? I can leave.” Annabeth said as she exchanged stares with the both of you. Cedric instantly spoke up, “Yes, actu—” Getting to your feet, you left his words unfinished, “Of course not, would you like to join us?” He looked at you with widened eyes, furrowing his eyebrows. ”I'm sure the princess has more significant things to do than tea.” He said it to you, but he was probably directing it to the princess as well. Damn, this slow-burn novel is burning good, too good. Fall in love already!

“She brewed us some tea, it's only natural to let her try some with us. It's proper manners," Cedric clenched his jaw at your words and then sighed. "Fine, as you wish." He ran his hands across his hair with a huff, crossing his arms afterward. Well, that was quick. You didn't even have to repeat it. You sat back down in content and patted the space beside you. His eyes narrowed at your gloved hand. "Take a seat, Your Highness. It's big enough for both of us.”

Annabeth raised her eyebrows, tightening her lips as she stared at the plush that lay below your hand. She looked as if she was lost in thought. “Your Highness?” You called out to her, which snapped her out of whatever thought she was in. “My apologies, yes, I'll sit. Thank you.” She gave a warm enigmatic smile. You squinted your eyes as a sudden radiant glow beamed around her. Damn, why is it so bright! She only just smiled!

“It’s no worries, no need to thank me.” You returned the smile, which resulted in a scoff from a neglected Cedric. Is he jealous or just annoyed? Maybe the plot is on its course after all, just differently.

“Allow me to serve you the tea I've brewed, my father sent me these tea leaves.” She said as she grabbed the teapot, standing up and pouring the tea for the three of you. Your cup being the last she poured. “I hope it’s to your liking.” She said with a smile directed at you. Cedric sneered and grabbed his cup, taking a sip, and so did you.

“Too sweet.” “It’s pretty good.” You and Cedric both looked at each other. It wasn’t a lie, the tea was good, just made your throat a bit itchy.

“I thought you weren't fawn of such sweet things.” He commented with a stern look, you gulped. “Change of heart?” You chuckle nervously. Damn, you forgot the villainess hated sweet things.

Annabeth covered her mouth and laughed, “Guess I put too much lemon verbena.” Cedric's eyes widen and he snatches your cup, throwing it on the ground. It shatters from the impact. You both look at him in shock and he slams his hands on the table, glaring at Annabeth. “What’s wrong, Your Grace?” She asked with furrowed brows, fidgeting with her hands.

“Are you trying to kill my wife?” Annabeth’s eyes widen and she looks at you, and then at him. “Wh-What do you mean? I would nev—” “Don’t lie to me!” He cuts her off, standing up abruptly, making her flinch.

“Cedric!” You called out, standing up and putting your hand in front of the princess, blocking her from him. He stares at you and raises his eyebrow, you see him gulp. “What do you mean kill me?” “How could you not—” He stops himself, staring at Annabeth and then at you. He grabs your wrist and with no word drags you out of the garden, leaving Annabeth behind. You try to object but to no avail. You look back for a split second to see the princess teary-eyed, and then the gates closed.

“Your Grace!” You call out to him, pulling your arm back from him, you two are already far from the garden. He turns around, “We need to get the doctor, quit resisting!” You cleared your throat, the itchiness of your throat was getting worse.

“Doctor? Why would I need a doct—” Before you finished, you suddenly got a pounding headache, making you wince and trip towards Cedric's chest. Now that you realize it, ever since you drank that tea you have been having difficulty breathing. You wheezed, your throat suddenly feeling much tighter than before. He grabbed your shoulders and you vaguely heard him yell something to the maids who were positioned outside. Resulting in them running to your side with terrified glances.

Your vision was getting blurry and you were sweating bullets. The hands that were on your shoulder gripped harder, making you wince. Your eyes were starting to get watery and itchy, you decided to close them to ease the pain for a bit.

And then there was silence.

from, your admirer

tags: @ohnoivefallen @julietdelamare @scotchhopin

credits:

neutral heart + star divider made by @cafekitsune

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porschas-palette · 24 days ago

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I SAW THE ANIMANIACS IN CONCERT UK LIVE SHOW!!!

I made this fanart for Randy and Rob (as well as stickers of the characters), I gave it to them and THEY LOVED IT!!!

I also wrote a note for each of them saying how awesome the show and they are, here are the doodles I made for those notes

They gave me a signed poster and SIGNED MY ANIMANIACS BAG!!!!

Bonus recycling the traditional assets I made into a mini A5 collage.

It was one of the best days of my entire life!!! Thank you everyone who made this concert and TV show possible! Truly a dream come true 🫶

(Keep reading to see the art progress if you want! 👀)

And so it begins, they announce the UK show, I'm jaw dropped, and my family buy us tickets as a birthday gift for me yippeeeee <3

Then I had a few weeks until the show, a pencil in my hand, and a dream. I decided to make fanart to give to them after the show, but what inspiration could I possibly use-

Genius!

(As you can see I tried my best to de-code the headline Randy was covering up ON PURPOUS, I gave up and made something up myself, I even tried to make it rhyme in tune with the Variety Speak song (which took way longer than it should have 💀). At the show he did reveal the headline which gave me closure at the time... but unfortunately I forgot what it said since I was trying not to cry from joy, so I guess it will forever be a mystery 😔)

I also tried to replicate the theatre stage from VERY limited reference photos and tried to predict what the stage irl was gonna look like, I was kinda close 👀. I eventually scrapped the zoomed out stage for 2 reasons: 1) The characters I drew wouldn't be as clearly visible when printed (especially the lab mice), and 2) by the time I got to rendering I was running out of time and had under 1 week to finish it.

Anyways I drew the characters/assets traditionally since it's the most comfortable for me and it's my whole thing 😎, mixed media aah moment. I scanned the final images onto the computer (the scale was smaller than A5 btw, I like drawing small) And then I locked in rendering the final image.

And boom I printed the images onto photo paper for the first time and nothing went wrong right?...right? 👁👁

Oh boy I hope you like reading my retelling of a paniced artist.

(So I had only 8 sheets of photo paper. I did 1 test print in case something went wrong but it was perfect, so perfect that I could save paper and print out one more- oh wait no no...I misspelled so many words...oops. Ok quick edit and boom we're so back, 2 prints done and ready to package into a little bag (with stickers made from A4 sheets of sticker paper I had to cut out with a craft knife). The day of the concert arrives, I check everything, I decide to add notes into the bags just incase I freeze up and forget how to communicate with them... hang on what is this smudge? Why wont it come off, WHY IS IT GETTING WORSE?!?! Oh god EMERGENCY NEW PRINT, I try do it quickly from my phone, It starts printing just fine- ERROR THE PRINTER HALF ARSED THE PRINT...WHYYYYYYY, QUICKLY SET UP MY LAPTOP, I HAVE TO GO IN A FEW MINUTES, HURRY UP AND PRINT, IT TAKES FOREVERRRRR AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH, lunch break, It finished finally phew. Carefully packaged up and off to london I went, and the rest is history. I started with 8 sheets of photo paper...now I have 3 left 💀)

Anyways that smudged photo wasn't that bad and to some unnoticeable, but for me as gifting standards it was unacceptable, so I kept it and framed it and its going on my wall with the signed print :)

If you made it this far, thanks for listening to my progress it means a lot! Here, you get a virtual dinosaur sticker 🦖 <3 (Patb ref ofc)

#animaniacs #animaniacs fanart #Animaniacs in concert #rob paulsen #Randy rogel #pinky and the brain #pinky and the brain fanart #mixed media #variety

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breadbrobin · 1 year ago

Text

the bet

part two

cedric diggory x reader — harry potter

[fem!best friend reader]

summary: the summer is going well. you’re not in love with cedric, and you’re so gonna win this bet. totally. right?

warnings: quite a lot of swearing, betting/gambling, underage drinking, cringey flirting (PLS i wrote this years ago), GOD they’re so in love it’s stupid, minor character death (sort of???), i think i’m a comedian (i’m not), switched from an x oc story so might have a few mistakes oops, mediocre writing (again i wrote this years ago and this is the worst part i think)

word count: 2.7k

(ok first of all tyyyy for the love on the first part i can’t wait for y’all to read part three! there is just one more part after this and it’s the best one imo)

part one

part three

——————————————

The Flowers

Cedric was splayed out on your bed. One of his feet hung off near your head and you was infinitely glad for his quality hygiene.

You were reading the Wizard of Oz again, and he was dutifully drawing something that he refused to show you.

“Okay,” he finally said. “I’m done.”

You finished your page and slipped the bookmark in, turning to him. “Can I see?”

“No, I drew this for you but you’re never allowed to look at it.” he teased, straight faced.

“Never?”

“Never.” He broke into a smile and shoved the sketch pad in your face.

It was a… Well, you weren’t exactly sure what it was. There was some interesting shading, a tuft of what could either be grass or hair and a strange egg shaped blob in the middle.

You hoped your face didn’t show your emotions as you quickly schooled your features into a smile. “It’s great, Ced.”

He had a wide grin plastered on his face as he nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah, I know. Now turn the page.”

You did as he said and blinked in shock, your jaw dropping. “There is no way you drew this.”

“I’ve been practising.”

“Have you been taking classes from freaking Van Gogh in between Quidditch practise?” you gaped, looking from the sketch of sunflowers and daisies and his beaming face.

“Maybe,” he shrugged. “An artist never reveals his secrets.”

“I think that’s meant to be magician.”

“Same thing.” he waved her off. “Anyway, I know sunflowers are your favourite, and daisies are my favourite. So I combined them.”

“This is honestly incredible.” you gushed.

“Oh, stop it.”

“No, seriously.” You stood up. “Can I put it on my wall?”

“Go for it,” he beamed, somehow even brighter than before.

You gently pulled the page from the pad and ripped a tab of blu-tack off, sticking it to the wall above your desk. Once it was hung, you stepped back to admire it. “Oh!” you gasped. “You need to sign it!”

Cedric stood up and brushed past you, scribbling his signature on the bottom right corner with a small heart. “Happy?”

“Mhm.”

That should have been your second sign.

They stood side by side and admired it for a moment.

Then you broke the silence.

“I can’t draw for shit,” you laughed. “And look at you. Mister Artist himself.”

“Oh, piss off,” he groaned, hugging your shoulders from behind and resting his chin on your head. “You can sing though. I can’t.”

“Liar.” you scoffed, patting his arm. “I’ve heard you sing. Besides, you’re practically perfect at everything you do.”

Just as he was about to respond, Cordelia burst through the lightly shut door, eyes still red and puffy. The two separated. “Lunch is ready.”

“Thanks, Dells,” he nodded. “We’ll be right there.”

As she left, he wrapped an arm around your shoulders and led you out. “God, I’m starving.”

“You’re always starving.”

“Very funny.”

The Second Week

As with most summers, you and Cedric spent almost every waking moment in each other’s company.

Unlike most summers, however, you couldn’t chase the thoughts of a certain bet from your mind.

You knew, you knew, that there was nothing to it. That it was just your friends being annoying and messing with you and everything you’d started reading into was just in your head… But, God, was it hard to remember sometimes.

You were mostly worried that he’d find out. Maybe one of your friends would send you a letter mentioning it? (Not that he’d ever read your letters.) What if Liz came for a random visit? Or worse: what if she told her friends, the Weasley twins, and they came for a visit?

You chased your swirling thoughts from your mind as Cedric walked through the front door, performing the mental equivalent of shoving all of the mess in your room into the wardrobe and hoping it closed right.

“Hey,” you smiled, standing up with your bowl of milk that used to hold cereal. “You’re early.”

“It’s eleven o’clock.”

“Yeah, early,” you shrugged, setting the now empty bowl in the sink. “What’s up?”

“Wanna go into town?” he asked, leaning on the counter and gesturing to the fruit bowl.

You tossed him an apple. “Sure. When?”

“Now?”

You sighed heavily, half-joking. “A bit more warning would be nice. Lemme go get changed.”

“Yes!” he cheered through a mouthful of apple. “You’re the best, N/N!”

N/N? You wondered as she jogged up the stairs. Since when am I N/N?

If you’d been listening carefully, you would have heard Cedric bang his head against the kitchen bench.

The town was quiet as always.

A farmer’s market was dying down, most vendors packing their remaining wares and smiling sheepishly at you and Cedric as you wove your way through the stunted stalls. You purchased a fresh bread roll and split it between you as you walked, both surprised that it was still warm.

“You know,” Cedric said after a few minutes of silence as you left the market and strolled along the main street. “We should do this more often.”

You squinted as you looked up at him, the sun assaulting your eyes. “Really?” you asked dryly. “What, burn ourselves to a crisp and get blinded while we’re at it?”

“No, dummy. Do stuff.”

“What? You don’t like doing nothing with me?” you teased.

“No, no, I love doing nothing with you,” he stole a chunk of bread that you’d been eyeing up. “But I also like spending money.”

“I bought the bread. I was the one who spent the money.”

He gasped, as if he didn’t already know. “What? Really?”

“Shut up, Ced,” you smiled, pushing him and stealing the last chunk of bread from the packet.

You were awake uncharacteristically early, so when you knocked on the Diggory’s front door, Cedric looked supremely confused.

“Are you feeling okay?” he asked. “Did someone die?”

“No, why would you— You’re an arsehole, you know that?” you pouted.

“Yeah, I know. Come on.”

He led you down the short hallway and into the living area. You sighed contentedly. The Diggory’s house always smelled amazing; a combination of vanilla, coffee and cleaning supplies that somehow worked. Cedric often smelled similar, you realised. The vanilla that clouded the house seemed to hang around him as well. You shook yourself out of it as he began speaking.

“My dad’s gotten obsessed with the TV,” he admitted, nodding towards the man who was watching with a rapt expression. “He doesn’t really understand it, but he’s addicted. He really likes cricket. Probably because he can’t figure out how to change the channel.”

“Oh, I used to play cricket! I love it so much!” you gushed, joining Amos on the couch. “Who’s playing?”

“England and India,” he said distractedly.

“ODI, T20 or test?”

“Test. We’re on Day Two.”

“So England’s batted?”

“Three-thirty-seven.”

“Not bad,” you squinted at the numbers on the screen, showing one-twenty-eight for six.

“I have no idea what you guys are saying,” Cedric cut in, looking blankly between you two.

“We’re talking sport,” Amos said, almost giddily.

You didn’t spare either of them a glance as the English captain went upstairs for a review. “Yeah, get back in the kitchen. Go make us a sandwich.” you teased.

“I thought you were coming to hang out with me,” he almost pouted.

You finally dragged your eyes from the screen. “But… Cricket…”

He shook his head with a smile. “Right, of course. Two sandwiches coming right up.”

The Moment You Knew

The days seemed doomed to repeat. Groundhog day, your mum had called it. So, when you found a way to rid yourself of the monotony of daily life, you took it without a second thought.

“Mum, please!”

“I don’t know…”

“I’ll even get petrol! I’ll… I’ll… I’ll pay for it myself too!”

“Y/N…”

“Mum,” you pleaded. “It’s just me and Ced. It’s a twenty minute drive and I’ll get petrol on the way back. We’ll be back by four and I’ll wear suitable shoes while driving.”

Whitney pursed her lips in thought. Then she sighed. “Fine. Don’t bother getting petrol, I’ll fill up on the way home from work on Monday.”

You squeaked in excitement, hugging your mum tightly. “Thank you! You’re the best! I love you!”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Love you too, hun,” she smiled.

True to her word, you did wear suitable shoes. The drive ended up taking around twenty-five minutes, but you supposed your mother couldn’t fault you for driving just under the speed limit all the way there.

There was a secluded lake you’d found out about from an old magazine in your mum’s collection, when you’d been looking for something, anything, to make your days less boring.

“This is awesome,” Cedric breathed as you broke through the treeline and onto the rocky shore of the small lake.

“Yeah,” you sighed contentedly, breathing in the fresh air.

You set up their towels and supplies in the shade of a tree and pulled off your sturdy shoes.

Cedric pulled his shirt over his head. You would be lying if you said your eyes didn’t catch on his muscles.

“Race you in,” he said as you had your own shirt halfway over your head.

“What?” you asked, hearing him run away. “Oh, you prick!”

You tossed your shirt on the ground, followed by your shorts, leaving you in your swim suit, pouting as Cedric splashed around in the cool, blue water.

You stomped over to the water’s edge, frowning down at him. The rock you were standing on was about a metre above the surface, casting a navy shadow over the rippling water. He waded a few metres out from you.

“You coming?” he asked.

“No,” you pouted, folding your arms. “I don’t swim with cheaters.”

He barked a laugh, swimming over to the edge and pulling himself out. Droplets of water hit your skin.

You backed away. “Cedric…”

He took a step closer.

“Don’t you dare, Diggory…”

He tilted his head, grinning widely as he continued to step closer to you. “What? I don’t know what you’re talking about?”

“Sure, you don’t,” you pointed at him. “Stay back!”

He laughed and pushed off his heels, springing towards you. Before he could reach you, however, you turned tail and ran, feet skimming over the rocks as you raced for the safety of the towels.

You only managed to get a few steps in before he caught you, his cold arms wrapping around your waist and lifting you off the ground. He spun around, carrying you back to the edge of the water and tossing you into the lake.

You yelped as the cold water hit you, but remembered to hold your breath, your hair swirling around your face in the water. You heard the telltale sound of him jumping in too and forced yourself up to the surface.

“I hate you!” you gasped, pushing your hair off your forehead. “I hate you so fucking much!”

“Liar!” he retorted, shaking his head and sending water droplets flying everywhere. “You love me.”

You didn’t respond for a moment, treading water and staring at him. “You wish,” you finally uttered.

He just smiled.

The days ticked by much faster than expected. Soon, Cedric was waving his parents off on their week-long trip and then hauling his bags over to your house, a shit-eating grin on his face.

“What did you do?” you immediately asked when you were alone.

He closed the door gently before skipping over to the bed in the guest bedroom he was staying in. He sat on it cross-legged, still smiling, and patted the mattress ahead of him.

When you finally sat down, he leaned forward.

“Guess what I bought,” he said.

You waited.

“You’re meant to ask,” he sighed.

“Oh, my bad,” you cleared your throat. “What did you bring, Cedric?”

He didn’t answer, simply reaching down to his backpack and pulling out a bottle of firewhiskey.

“That’s it? Oh, you sweet, sweet child,” you teased. “I have three of those in my room.”

“Sorry, N/N, not all of us are casual rulebreakers,” he sniffed.

You pushed his shoulder. “I’m kidding, Ced. I mean, technically, I’m not, but I do appreciate the sentiment.”

He poked his tongue out at you.

The Night Things Happened

The day started like any other.

You and Cedric usually woke up at vastly different times, so when he woke up, he went for a run, had a shower and ate a light breakfast before going to wake you.

A lot of groaning and a few thrown pillows later, you were standing in the kitchen making pancakes.

As you flipped another one, leading to Cedric cheering as if you’d never done it before, Whitney entered the kitchen.

“Morning, you two,” she greeted, kissing your temple and patting Cedric’s shoulder. “Cords and I are going to that Girl Scouts sleepover tonight, remember? So you’ll have to make dinner yourselves.”

“Yup, we know, Mum,” you said, taking the pancake out of the pan and slapping it onto a plate. “We’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want you burning the house down. Remember last time?”

“Mum.” You turned to her grimly. “We don’t talk about last time.”

Whitney raised her hands in surrender. “Right, right. But, on a more serious note. I shouldn’t have to tell you not to invite anyone else over and to be in bed by one, should I? And I won’t come home to drunk teenagers all over my house?”

“Nope, we’ll be all good, Ms Ridge,” Cedric shot her a winning smile.

She pursed her lips jokingly. “Mhm… Alright, I trust you two. I’m going to the shops, need anything?”

“We need more eggs.”

“Eggs, got it.”

The night was when things changed.

After Whitney and Cordelia were gone, at least long enough that it was unlikely they’d turn around and come back, you took your first swig of firewhiskey.

It burned its way down your throat, like it always did. Cedric coughed and sputtered, nearly spitting it mouthful out.

You held back a laugh. “You alright, Golden Boy?”

“Shut up,” he seethed, voice hoarse.

You raised your hands in surrender. “Alright, alright. I was just asking.”

You sat and ate the pizza you’d ordered already, taking sips of firewhiskey whenever you felt like it.

You closed your pizza box one slice after Cedric did, placing it on top of his on the coffee table. “You good?”

“Great,” he smiled dopily. It seemed the whiskey was hitting him harder than he was letting on.

You smiled back. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

You took a larger swig of whiskey, shaking your head at the strength. “I just wanna point out that if you get sick, I’m not cleaning you up. Got it?”

“Yeah, got it.” He nodded, looking a little bit more put together. “I’d clean you up though. If you got sick.”

You smiled again. “Thanks, Ced.”

The night was going surprisingly well. You’d turned on the TV, both staring, fixated at Friends reruns, leaning heavily on each other. The bottle was half gone and, as the advertisements came on, you each took another swig.

Cedric was looking at you weird.

You straightened up, frowning in confusion. “What is it?”

“Nothing,” he slurred slightly. “You’re just… Fuck, you’re pretty.”

Your heart fluttered. “Oh. So are you.”

He blushed, looking down. “Yeah, I know.”

You couldn’t stop yourself from laughing. “Yeah, I bet you do, Goldie.”

“Goldie?”

“Golden Boy. It’s cute.”

“You’re cute.”

“No, you’re cute.”

“You’re cuter.”

“No, you are.”

“You are.”

“You…” he was very close to you now, his grey eyes darting between you eyes and your lips. “You’re very pretty. You know that, right?”

“Yeah,” you breathed.

“No, I don’t think you know how pretty you are. Like… When you laugh your eyes light up, and… And when you do that thing when you’re thinking… Where your eyebrow twitches… Oh, and that thing you do… The thing when your favourite songs come on and you tap your legs really fast…”

You swallowed tightly as his hand brushed your cheek. His breath smelled of firewhiskey, but you were sure yours did too.

He wasn’t looking at your eyes anymore. “You’re incredible, Y/N. And you deserve to know that.”

“Cedric…” you started.

“Sh…” he cut you off. He was hardly an inch away now. “Don’t talk. Just…”

Friends came back on the TV.

“Just watch Friends with me.” He leaned back, looping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you flush against his side.

You tried with all your might to ignore your pounding heart.

You weren’t sure if you were going to win this bet after all.

#cedric diggory #cedric diggory x reader #cedric diggory x you #harry potter #harry potter x reader #robert pattinson

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girl-named-matty · 3 months ago

Text

Freckles - Life at Hogwarts

synopsis ✧ Warmer weather has finally started to roll around Hogwarts after several months of cold and gloom. And the Hogwarts students take to the outside to enjoy it.

tags ✧ Fluff, compliments, silliness, we countin' freckles with this one.

word count ✧ 600

a/n ✧ This is literally just a 600 word drabble I wrote in my notebook during class when i was bored lol. But I figured I should share anyway! Short but sweet xoxo.

Tagging ✧ @light-of-the-room, @leaping-toadstool-caps, & @ravenwind-75.

Saturdays were among some of the favorites for the students of Hogwarts. No school, no homework, just a day to sit back and relax without much stress.

With summer on the rise, the weather became much warmer, making it much more enjoyable to be outside. Sebastian and Matty, of course, wanted to take advantage of the nice, sunny day. After several months of general gloom and coldness, they were excited to just be able to relax in the nice weather.

Laid out on a blanket, they both relaxed, soaking in the sun that felt wonderfully warm on their skin. But after a bit of silence, Matty wanted something to keep herself occupied.

Sebastian was lying on his back, his arms propping his head up with his eyes closed. He could sense the strong rays of sun beating down on his face—until it suddenly got much darker. He heard the rustling of the blanket under them and the looming presence of someone over him.

He cracked one eye open out of curiosity, wondering what could possibly be going on. And that’s when he saw Matty, hovering over him and looking as concentrated as ever, her blonde curls falling just inches away from his face.

Both eyes then opened. “Matty, what are you doing?” He questioned curiously.

“I’m bored.” Came her simple reply; she seemed unbothered by his question.

“Yes, my love, I picked up on that, but what are you doing?” He asked again with slight humor in his tone.

“I’m counting your freckles.” She answered. Her blue eyes scanned over his features carefully—almost so slowly that you could hardly tell what she was doing.

Sebastian chuckled. “Well, that might take you a lot longer than you think.” He said. “I think I have more than the time we have to spend out here.”

“Well, if you shush, I can concentrate.” She chided. “I’m on the ones around your mouth, and I don’t want to mess up and miscount.”

Sebastian chuckled but quickly went quiet, not wanting to mess her up. Matty had freckles herself, just not nearly as many as Sebastian. Hers were dotted over the top of her cheekbones and across the bridge of her nose. They were cute but much easier to count.

Sebastian, on the other hand, had freckles all over his face, a few dotting his neck, and several on his back, shoulders, and arms as well. But for now, Matty would just focus on his face.

A few minutes in, she shifted to better count on the other side of his face, and the sun began to rain down on his face again. Sebastian opened his eyes, allowing the sun to hit them just right.

“Your eyes are really pretty.” Matty murmured quietly, watching as the light hit his eyes.

“You’re giving out lots of compliments today, dear.” He mused with a smile.

Matty shrugged. “Just stating the obvious.” She replied. “Besides, I heard men that don’t get complimented very often, and you compliment me all the time, so I’m just returning the favor.”

Sebastian looked up at her, grabbing the hand that was hovering over his face and counting the freckles there. “You’re adorable, you know that?” He asked, pressing a kiss to her hand.

“Turning the compliments on me now, huh?” She joked.

“Just stating the obvious.” Sebastian grinned, turning her own words on her.

Matty rolled her eyes. “I love you, you dork, but you messed up my counting.”

Sebastian’s cheeks flushed a light shade of pink—he hadn’t even thought about messing up her count. Now he just felt silly.

“Oops.”

#hogwarts legacy #hl #sebastian sallow #hogwarts legacy mc #mc #Matty Ambrose #Sebastian Sallow x mc #Ambrollow #Sebastian Sallow fanfiction #mattywrites

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atlasofthestaars · 2 years ago

Note

hii! this is my first time requesting ever, but I just love your writing so much that I just have to ask:

can i request general headcannons with mk1 Bi-Han and female reader? if you’re comfortable with writing nsfw, can i also ask for some of those? I dont have anything specific in mind but im just dying for you to write more for Bi-Han, i think you write him soo well.

if you can’t/don’t want to do those, its totally ok! i just had to request from my favorite mk writer. thank you soo much!! 🫶🏽

ps. I LOVE NEW ERA SO MUCHHH UGHH

notes: oops i should have done these. a LOT sooner LMAO. idk if my headcanons are gonna be unpopular or not but this is how I see the bastard (only semi affectionately) most of these don’t really apply to female reader until the NSFW tbh, but even then I’m not too descriptive? I kinda wrote these informally but at the same time, very analytical?? You’ll see HAHA these are more like my rambles than shorter hcs. I probably should have made the NSFW parts sexier sounding LMAO they’re very like, analytical.

I also can probably do more of these if you guys want?? I just kinda wrote whatever but I’m certain I could write tons more HAHA

Btw ty for liking New Era and being so patient for your wait ! <3

SFW

Bi-Han would only be with a partner, imo, if he truly loves them. Loyalty, trust, etc. are all important to him. To be with a person for the sake of being in a relationship imo is not his style. Especially if his father wanted an arranged marriage? He would not be happy with it. He can rule by himself, thank you very much.

When Bi-Han loves you, he loves you. He may not say it much, but he does. It is not as if he thinks saying “i love you” is stupid. No, he understands it is important, he just knows that you know already. In rare moments where he is nearly overwhelmed with affection for you, he’ll say it first. But I think it is more likely he would only say a simple “i love you too” after you say it.

I can’t imagine Bi-Han to be the type of person to fall for someone at first sight or jump into dating someone quickly. I think the only way he’d fall for someone is to be friends with them first and slowly he’d fall, then the feelings would hit him all at once.

Bi-Han finds it hard to deny you. Even when he says no, he is probably thinking of other alternatives for you. Idk! I think this man would be kind of a simp deep down if he truly found someone he loves. But not like overboard, it’d be very subtle. Which is a lot for a frosty man like him.

Bi-Han’s love language imo, is acts of service. Probably small things like making you breakfast, helping you do your hair if you have longer hair, maybe even showing you how to properly stretch if you often feel sore. Little things that add up.

Bi-Han would allow you to be in his office just to enjoy your company. He probably wouldn’t talk much, mostly just listen in those moments when he’s concentrating. Your presence alone is enough for him when he’s working.

If he’s giving gifts, I imagine he’d probably be the type of person to place it in a place you’d see it, but no one else would. He’d leave a simple note like, “thought of you”. I don’t think he’d give it in person because he’s far too stiff to make it feel romantic enough,

I don’t think dates come often. but when they do Bi-Han would do something probably quiet and with just you. He’d rather spend the precious time he has not doing his duty with just the person he adores, no one else.

Probably not at first, but after you’ve been together for a while I think he’d allow you to brush and comb his hair. It’s not that he is particularly touch adverse with his hair, I just think he’s really fussy with it.

Not a fan of PDA. He doesn’t like the looks others give him and how he can tell that they’re thinking how did he get someone to defrost him? Far too nosey for his tastes. But if you want it, he’d probably indulge you in maybe a bit of hand holding. Maybe a peck on the cheek or on the lips once in a while, but he’s generally a private person.

Bi-Han has cold hands. Nothing he can do about it. Even with his fine control of cryomancy, there’s the lingering chill that is stuck to his skin.

I’d like to imagine that he would give very soft kisses in private. A kiss on the hand, a kiss on the forehead, etc. Small moments.

Probably has given you one accessory the same shade of blue as his uniform. It pleases him just to see the subtle way you match.

NSFW

Ok. Listen. He’s a virgin. It’s not that I think he’s a “saving myself for marriage” type of man, I just think that he would not really be attracted to people enough to want a fling or something unserious.

He probably is very hard to arouse unless he knows he won’t be interrupted or if it is work time. He’s just very regimented like that. Still, if you were to try and tease him by a little touches or with some particularly revealing clothing, then he supposed it would be a little harder to keep his mind off of the way your body feels under his hands.

Anyways, he probably will want to take the dominant role. I mean, it’s Bi-Han. But he won’t deny you if you ask for something, at least, until he learns that teasing you works very, very well. Then you’ll probably have to learn some more patience.

I think he knows for the most part what to do, but he just doesn’t have any hands-on experience for him. He’s a visual learner, want to teach him?

I think Bi-Han would at first think he would prefer receiving than giving, then after realizing how wonderful you look when you fall apart at his touch, he would think he very much prefers giving. It gives him almost a sense of power to see it, it makes him want more.

Still, he wouldn’t deny you if you were to give him a blowjob. It is undeniable how lovely you look on your knees, sucking his cock just to please him.

If you give him a blowjob, look up at him. It drives him wild and he will probably entangle his hands in your hair if he hasn’t already.

Bi-Han would probably take sex as seriously as training. He’s here to please you after all.

With that being said, I think he’d be probably full of vigor doing anything you wanted. For example, you’d probably feel it the next day with how hard he’d thrust. Or you’d be guaranteed at least one orgasm with him eating you out, because he is a very stubborn man and he won’t stop until he sees you unravel upon his mouth.

I don’t think he’s very vocal. Probably grunts and muffling his noises in your skin.

Back to the teasing idea, I think he would develop a liking to teasing you, edging you if you will. The moans you make, the way you tremble under his touch…it is very appealing to him. Plus, he has a sharp eye, he’d notice how it seems to make the pleasure in the end so much more than if he gave you it right away.

I think he wouldn’t notice it, but if you pull his hair it would ignite some sort of fire within him.

I like to imagine he would want to kiss during sex here and there. Your lips just look even more lovely in those moments.

He’d probably love to cum inside of you. It’s a little fantasy of his. He wouldn’t though, if there’s a chance for a child. It’s not that he doesn’t want children, he does, he just wants to wait until things are just…right.

#mk1 x reader #mortal kombat x reader #mk1 #mortal kombat #sub zero x reader #bi han #bi han x reader #sub zero

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