#far cry five signatures

[onlymingyus]

Birds of a Feather

pairing; joshua hong x f reader

genre; smut (minors dni), fluff, crack

summary; You and Shua work together on a petition to get rid of the bird kid and then you fall in love.

warnings; university au, alcohol, drug use (marijuana), food/drink, betting, bad jokes, borrowed memes, simp!joshua, jealousy/possessive nature, irresponsible use of a hot tub and a friend’s personal space, slight dom!joshua, mild dom/sub dynamics, pet names, sex health/birth control talk, unprotected sex, breast play, pinning/man handling, dirty talk, oral (m & f receiving/giving), 69, scratching, crying, size kink implied, exhibition kink implied – as always I’m sure there is something I’ve left out.

w/c; 14.3k and some change

a/n; first of all thank you so so much to my dear @onlyhuis for proofreading this and thank you for literally being the reason it exists. this is based on a true story – names have been changed for privacy and it’s not completely true but bird kid should find a new place to live. thank you to @wonwussy for helping me come up with an amazing title, also without june, @highvern, @shuadotcom, and @horanghater just know this fic would have sucked majorly. thank you so much for helping me figure out my shit and adding so much to this.

before continuing remember reblogs are incredibly important and please read how to support me here

Joshua rubs the sleep out of his eyes as he leans his forearm against his door, looking down at the cute girl standing in his dorm room. You were holding a clipboard and had a look somewhere between serious and annoyed on your face.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you up.”

You hadn’t had the chance to meet every single resident in your hall but today you were making some very interesting discoveries. For example, apparently Eros lived just five doors down and he slept in late. Clearing your throat, you look down at your clipboard in an attempt to hide how shy his gaze is making you feel.

“I’m Y/N; would you sign my petition to evict the bird kid? I know that sounds harsh but just to get him to, like, get his own place off campus with his bird.”

His lips pulling up into a small grin, Joshua watches you start to ramble about your cause as you tap your pen against the paper attached to the clipboard. It seems you have several signatures so far. He had heard about this bird kid and he had also heard the bird in question several times.

“Sure, I’ll sign it. Anything to get him to stop letting the damn thing use the water fountain as a bird bath.”

Joshua watches as your eyes lift towards him again as he agrees with you. With the clipboard securely in his hands, you scoff in agreement, lifting your hands to express how important your argument was.

“Right?! It’s gross. I drink out of that fountain. I mean, I used to...“

Nodding, Joshua signs his name and offers you back the clipboard before resting his shoulder on his door frame. You watch his smile pull to one side before he furrows his brows and gestures over his shoulder.

“My roommate is still passed the fuck out but I’m sure he will sign too. Swing back by later and catch him when he’s actually breathing.”

Pulling the clipboard to your chest, you press your lips together, trying to keep your eyes on the man’s face even as you feel them being drawn to where his t-shirt was straining around his bicep. Clearing your throat, you lean back a bit and glance down at his name, whispering it to yourself before nodding and daring to look back up to find Joshua still watching you.

“Okay… I’ll do that, Joshua.”

Turning towards the next door, you pull your eyes from his handsome face even as Joshua leans out of his doorway to watch you, lifting his hand to wave.

“Good luck with your petition, Y/N. See you later.”

Groaning into his drool soaked pillow, Lee Chan forces himself to turn over and look towards his roommate, who was standing in the doorframe watching the hallway. He liked Joshua; if anything, the man was more like a brother than a roommate at this point but he was talking far too loudly for a Saturday morning.

“That has to be a girl if you are acting like a simp this early.”

Rolling his eyes, Joshua shuts the door behind him, turning towards the younger man and shooting him a look before reaching for one of the bottles of water and tossing it towards him. Despite usually having great eye to hand coordination, Chan hisses in pain when the bottle manages to meet his chest instead of in his hands.

“And? Your point? Drink your water; I’m sure you have one hell of a headache.”

Chan wasn’t going to argue with Joshua on that point. He did have a headache that could rival all other headaches. He couldn’t remember much of the night after their friend Seungcheol had shown him where the punch bowl was and challenged him to a “drink off.”

Reaching for the pain medicine on his nightstand, Chan groans, trying to open the bottle as Joshua watches, only to sigh and take it from his hands, doing it for him. Muttering a thanks, Chan takes the bottle back, leaning back onto his bed to take the medicine, looking up at the ceiling.

“Who was the girl?”

Pursing his lips, Joshua falls back on his bed, trying to hide the small smile on his lips, thinking about the short interaction with you and how cute you had been. It wasn’t like anything had even happened or that there would be anything that would come from it but it was nice meeting a new neighbor so to speak.

“Uh, she said her name was Y/N. She’ll be back around later. Told her you’d sign her petition.”

Chan’s brows furrow at Joshua’s words as he lifts his hand to wipe at his mouth, water starting to run down towards his chin.

“What? Why would I do that?”

“Because it’s not that big of a deal and you’ll agree with it. It’s about that dude who has a bird. Something about getting him to move off campus with it.”

Making a face at the mention of the bird, Chan feels his headache behind his eyes, even thinking about the squawking that could be heard late at night and early in the mornings.

“You’re right. I’ll fucking sign it. I’ll forge names. I’ll help the son of a bitch move.”

Taking back your clipboard once more, you smile at the girl who doesn’t seem to know when to stop talking. You were happy she agreed with your cause but you didn’t need to know every other complaint she had filed over the past month with Seungkwan, the RA.

“Totally, I get it.” Gesturing with your thumb over your shoulder, you offer her one last tired smile, “I’m gonna head back the other way, I have a couple of places I need to get on the way back to my room.”

“Yeah, sure. Oh, Y/N! When you talk to Seungkwan, you know when you file the petition... mention the water pressure again.”

Groaning under your breath, you just give her a thumbs up, hearing her yell bye at your back as you scurry off in the opposite direction. The more distance you put between her and you, the air feels lighter until you look back at your clipboard and read Joshua’s name, seeing your little star next to his name.

You weren’t sure why this man was making you so nervous – besides his good looks – but as you stood in front of his room, reading over the whiteboard attached to it, you blew out a breath. The messages on their board were cute, some funny, but for the most part, you could tell they were from friends.

I fuckin won last night you owe me dinner - Cheol

rescheduled studio for tuesday - jihoon (don’t call me and bitch)

Lifting your hand, you knock on the door next to a worn sticker of a tiger that someone had tried to peel off but failed at doing so. You swallow hard, running your thumbnail along the pad of your index finger as you wait, beginning to think that he or his roommate were out until you hear hushed voices and the sound of a thump like something hitting the floor.

Joshua throws one last look at Chan, who rubs the back of his head from the floor next to this bed, muttering an ow, before the younger man pushes himself back to his feet. He hadn’t said anything he thought was all that bad, just that Joshua looked like an excited puppy hearing a knock at the door. He hadn’t been wrong; Joshua had jumped up and started towards the door, only to stop looking panicked and check his hair in the mirror on the back of the door before Chan had spoken up.

Opening the door, Joshua takes a breath before licking his lips and smiling at you as if nothing had happened at all. Your eyes move past him to the other man, who grumbles, rubbing his ass as he finally gets back on his feet and looks towards the door to meet your eyes for the first time.

“Hey, is this a bad time? I can come back tomorrow or something.”

Stepping back and to the side, Joshua shakes his head as Chan’s eyes widen, finally getting a good look at you. It was starting to make sense—Joshua's reaction to you. If he had seen you first, he might be in the same predicament, but there was a bro code, and he was a good friend.

“Not at all, right, Chan?”

Hearing his name, Chan moves forward and gestures to you inside the room, quickly moving one of his shirts off the desk chair so you could take it if you wanted it.

“Nope, all good with me. Shua said you’d be back, about the bird dude, right?”

Slowly walking into the room, you look around before looking down at the chair that had been cleaned off for you. It hadn’t been your plan to come in and sit down but you weren’t going to say no when your feet were aching after walking up and down the hall for hours.

“Uh, yeah, thanks.”

Joshua watches you move to the seat, his eyes never leaving yours even as you close yours for a moment to relish in the feeling of the pressure being taken off your back and legs as you sit down. His eyes finally move to the clipboard in your lap as he moves forward, causing you to open your eyes to look up at him.

“Looks like you did well today. Can I see it?”

Humming out a response, you lift the clipboard towards Joshua, letting him take it from you along with your pen so he can turn back towards Chan, offering it to him. With the petition out of the way and Chan occupied with something else, Joshua grins, turning his attention back to you. His eyes move over your face and down the length of your body quickly as he tries not to make it entirely obvious.

“I tried; it was tiring. I’ll try to hit the other floors over the next couple days before I take it to Seungkwan.”

Nodding, Joshua purses his lips, gesturing his hands out towards you, causing you to look up at him as he does.

“We are pretty good friends with Seungkwan. Might save you a little time. I’m not saying to cheat the system but I can tell you are exhausted. I could also help you, you know, with the other floors.. Have some friends who live in those dorms.”

You weren’t sure why Joshua was willing to help you but you weren’t feeling like turning him down, even as Chan scoffed into a laugh while finishing filling out the petition. Glancing over his shoulder, Joshua turns only to jerk the clipboard from the other man’s hands, letting the two share a quick look before he smiles at you again, offering it to you much kinder.

“What do you think?”

Biting at your bottom lip, you glance towards Chan, watching him turn away from what was happening in front of him. Tapping your fingers on the clipboard in your lap, you smile and look away, feeling suddenly shy under Joshua’s gaze once again. His playful laugh is the only thing you can hear over the blood rushing to your head as your cheeks and ears go warm.

“Yeah, that’d be great. I can give you my number so we can coordinate where to meet and stuff.”

Rolling his eyes, Chan groans at the puppy love display in the same room as him. Sliding past Joshua, the younger man mutters a bye to you as you watch him slip out the door, leaving you alone with Joshua, whose smile just grows.

“Awesome, yeah. Don’t worry about Chan. He’s dramatic.”

Eyes still following Joshua, you watch him pick up his phone from his nightstand, returning to offer it to you. You can only shake your head, a small laugh slipping from your lips as you tap on his phone icon and add a contact for yourself after making a mental note of his artsy blue wallpaper on his phone.

“He’s okay. I mean… I don’t know what he was being dramatic about but I’ll get out of his hair so he can come back and chill.” Smiling up at Joshua, you offer him back his phone and say, “I like your wallpaper, it’s pretty.”

You’re pretty, is the first thing Joshua thinks of but he just smiles back at you, taking his phone and biting at his bottom lip.

“Thanks. Uh, he’s fine, really. Don’t have to worry about him, he’s a big boy. Just not used to seeing pretty girls in his dorm room, especially ones he’s not allowed to flirt with.”

You had started to take a breath so when Joshua speaks and says that you swallowed the breath, it gets stuck in your throat. Leaning forward, you cough, lifting your hand when he steps forward, asking if you are okay. Furrowing his brows, Joshua moves to take out a water bottle, opening the lid before squatting down in front of the chair and offering it to you.

“You sure you’re okay?”

Nodding, you take the water, taking a sip as Joshua watches you carefully. You were fine but you felt like an idiot. Your face was on fire from the coughing fit and embarrassment. How were you going to explain that you had just choked on air?

“No rush…  Take it easy. Another sip of the water.”

Lifting his hand, Joshua pushes your hair back, getting a good look at you and checking to make sure you were actually going to be okay. He could tell you were flustered and obviously embarrassed but there was nothing, in his opinion, that you needed to be embarrassed about.

“I’m alright. It’s stupid… I just tried to take a breath and it didn’t go well for me.”

You watch as Joshua smiles at you, his eyes kind and understanding despite the awkward situation. Dropping his hand to his knee, Joshua bites at his bottom lip once again as he tilts his head, studying you before nodding.

“Been there before. Feeling a bit better?”

Sitting back, you nod, taking another sip of the water as Joshua offers you the lid, letting you put it back on the bottle.

“Yeah, I’m good now. Fuck…I’m really great at first impressions.”

Standing up to let you do the same, Joshua takes in a sharp breath, watching you move towards his door. He knew he had just met you but he already didn’t want to let you go. He wanted to get to know you more and he wasn’t sure if just helping you with the petition was going to be enough.

“I, for one, am thoroughly impressed. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Turning back to Joshua, you smile, letting him pull the door open, leaning his shoulder against it much like he had earlier in the day. You were staring at him again, letting your eyes move from his face, studying his lips, and moving down to his chest and over to his arms.

“Yeah, uh… I’ll text you in the morning. Have a good night, Joshua.”

Leaning his head back against the door, Joshua grins to himself, having known you were checking him out just as much as he had been doing the same to you. Maybe he had a shot at this.

“You too, Y/N.”

Y/N: I know it’s early but I was hoping to get started on the petition in about 30 mins on the second floor. You still wanna help?

The ding of his cellphone caused Joshua to groan before he reached out for the device, smacking at the nightstand a few times before actually grabbing it. Normally he would have ignored the message but today he remembered that he had texted you last night, making sure you had his number.

Cracking an eye open to look at his screen, Joshua winces at the brightness, blinking a few times before he is able to read the message and look at the time. It was 9 a.m., and he had gone to bed around 3 a.m. Of course you didn’t know that but he also wasn’t going to tell you no.

Joshua: Absolutely. Can we get coffee? 🙏

The message makes you smile as you sit on your bed, your stuff in a semicircle around you as you try to get ready for the day. Usually you weren’t too concerned with how much you dressed up around campus, especially on the weekends during the day, but today was different. You were going to be hanging out with Joshua Hong.

After your less than ideal first meeting with him, you decided to do some sleuthing to find out more about him, so now not only do you have his last name, but you also know his major, music, and that he has released a few songs on SoundCloud. You had even looked through his Instagram and swooned over many of his pictures, being overly careful not to like any pictures so he wouldn’t know you had been looking.

Y/N: Ofc my treat 😉

Still laying in bed, Joshua smiles at your message and the emoji. Were you flirting with him? A man could dream, couldn’t he?

Joshua: We will see who gets their card out faster.

Joshua had done his own investigation of you the night before but there had been less social media and more word of mouth as he sat in his friend Vernon’s dorm watching a few get more drunk than necessary. Lucky for him, Jeonghan had been at the little get together and he seemed to know everyone or at least something about everyone.

“Y/N Y/L/N, she’s a lit major. Really fucking cute, but you probably know that.”

That he did know, but if you were a literature major, that meant you were smarter than him.

“As far as I know, she’s available. Check her Instagram but... I’m pretty sure.”

Now, walking towards your dorm, Joshua was doing just that—scanning through your most recent pictures. Most were just selfies that he was having a hard time not liking, but a few had friends leaning against you, smiles on both of your faces. What he didn’t see was anyone who seemed like a romantic interest.

Tilting your head, you watch as Joshua looks down at his phone as he walks the few doors towards yours as you wait, your bag slung over your shoulder. He seemed distracted and it wasn’t until you felt your phone vibrate in your hand and looked to see that shuahong95 liked your photo that it made sense.

Pressing your lips together, you feel the warmth spread over your cheeks as Joshua’s eyes widen slightly and he hisses under his breath before looking up to see you looking down at your phone. You had already seen the notification. Fuck it, he thinks to himself, shaking his head. Joshua presses follow on your profile and slips his phone into his jacket pocket as he finally reaches your door.

The second notification pops up that shuahong95 has followed your Instagram, and you swallow hard, looking up as you see his shoes standing in front of you. A bit of a deer caught in the headlights looks plastered on your face; you can only offer him a small smile as he leans his head against the wall next to your door and smiles back at you.

“It was a cute picture. Couldn’t help it.”

Shaking your head, you laugh quietly—a bit manically, as if you were trying to figure out what reality was anymore—slipping your phone into your pocket. Joshua just watches you gauge your reaction, finding it even more adorable as the seconds tick by.

“I–yeah? Thanks…you’re really...”

You didn’t know what you were saying but it didn’t seem to matter to Joshua, as he grins at you for just letting it happen. When you sigh, letting the words die on your lips, Joshua laughs, reaching up to tap his finger on the tip of your nose, causing your cheeks to burn hotter than you thought they could.

“Adorable. Coffee?”

Right, coffee. You had said you would treat him to some before you got started with today’s work. Reaching up to touch your nose where Joshua’s finger had just been, you smile and look away to help calm yourself before clearing your throat and gesturing towards the exit.

“Sure, I’m surprised you were awake when I messaged. You seemed like a late sleeper yesterday, both you and Chan? Is that his name?”

Nodding, Joshua walks beside you, his eyes moving between you and where he is headed. You were exceptionally pretty today. It wasn’t just the fact that you had clearly put work into looking the way you did but that you were smiling and you were almost glowing in the morning light.

“Mmhm, Lee Chan. He’s been my roomie for a year. He’s a good kid.” Smirking, Joshua lifts his hand to rub at the back of his neck as he continues speaking, “Yeah, weekends we tend to party a bit so I usually sleep in a bit more than I would during the week but for you, I'll roll out of bed.”

He was very obviously flirting with you. You weren’t an idiot but what you were was flustered and smiling like an idiot. Turning your face toward Joshua, you press your lips together and nod as he opens the door, letting you go out first into the crisp morning air.

“Seems like you are enjoying university life a bit more than I am, Joshua Hong.”

You dare to look back up at the man as he smiles at you for staying by your side as the two of you make your way towards the local coffee shop located on campus. Clearing your throat, you furrow your brows and lift your finger to scratch at the scrunched up skin as you start to ask the question that has been plaguing you since the night before.

“Um, so yesterday you said something about Chan and it made me curious as to what you meant.”

Tilting his head, Joshua purses his lips, trying to remember what he had said about his roommate before you continue making his cheeks warm up this time.

“Something about how he’s not allowed to flirt with me? What did that mean? Does he have a girlfriend or something… or is there another reason?”

There were two thoughts running through Joshua’s mind the moment you finished your question. One, did you like Chan? Surely not…  You had spoken like five words to the kid and you had been flirting with him all morning. Two, how was he going to do this without just saying it? Fuck it.

“I don’t think he’s dating anyone. I don’t keep up with it, honestly. The last party, he was trashed and hanging out with some pretty freshmen but that’s not why I said it.”

Stopping in front of the stop, Joshua squints a bit from the bright sunlight, making you smile as he tries to think of the right words before he finally continues.

“I said it because he knows that I’m interested in you. There’s a code after all.”

You had half expected it but at the same time, there was no way you could have been prepared for someone like Joshua Hong to tell you that he was interested in you. Granted, you didn’t know each other all that well but you had eyes and desires. Pressing your lips together, you muffle a small happy sound, just nodding and looking down at the sidewalk as Joshua grins, reaching out to tilt your chin back up towards him.

Joshua watches your lips part slightly as your eyes meet his once again. You can’t help but lean into his touch as his thumb glides across your jaw for a few seconds before he finally lets go of your face and takes a breath. You had that deer caught in headlights look on your face again but Joshua was just enamored by you.

“After you.”

Your eyes finally move from the spot where Joshua had been standing when you feel the warmth from inside the shop and smell the coffee wafting towards your nose when he opens the door. Willing your feet to move, you whisper a small thank you to him as you slide by him and into the shop, glancing around it, seeing only a few of the tables occupied by students with headphones covering their ears as they stare at laptops.

Lifting his hand, Joshua places it against the small of your back as he quickly waves the other at the barista, who grins at him tiredly. You had seen the man several times when you had visited the shop but never really introduced yourself to him. Glancing at his name tag, you make a mental note of Vernon as Joshua and him share a quick secret friend handshake, making your head spin. You weren’t aware that people still did that.

“What’s up, man? The fuck you awake for?”

Vernon speaks before glancing to Joshua’s side and at you before he makes a sound like an oh and grins at his friend like he knows some sort of secret. Did all of his friends know he was interested in you?

“Going to help Y/N with her petition. Which, by the way, while we are here, do you mind signing it? It’s the one I told you about, the bird kid.”

Nodding, Vernon moves behind the counter, already starting on a drink, which you assume to be Joshua’s as the man asks him the question. You just watch mesmerized as the steam plums in front of his face and Vernon just leans back and smiles.

“Hell yeah. Always down to support a worthy cause. Really awesome for you to do something like that Y/N.” Taking a breath, the barista furrows his brows, snapping the equipment into place before he grins at you. “Hey, I’m Vernon Chwe, by the way. I’ve seen you around but we’ve never really talked before. You know what you want to drink?”

Joshua watches you smile at his friend. It was a kind smile and something that he was really starting to like about you—just how kind you seemed to genuinely be. The petition was funny on the surface but underneath it, you were legitimately trying to make a difference in the comfort level of those around you.

“It’s really nice to meet you, Vernon. Thank you for that, seriously.” Glancing behind him, you look over the drinks before pursing your lips and finally nodding, “Can I get an iced mocha?”

The man gives you a thumbs up, letting you turn back to Joshua, whom you find already looking at you like you hung the stars in the sky. You can’t help but laugh a bit, shyly glancing away from him and behind you just to make sure he was actually looking at you.

Joshua laughs, reaching forward to take your arms and pulling you back towards him as you look for someone else. There was no one else. There was only you right now and you were so damn cute, he was starting to lose his mind.

“Who are you looking for, pretty girl?”

The heat rises along your neck and across your cheeks at Joshua’s words as your laugh gets caught behind your lips. You hadn’t expected that either. Shaking your head, you whine a bit and finally sigh, meeting Joshua’s eyes as his fingers gently run along your forearms.

“Just who you might be looking at like that but...”

“You. I’m looking at you, silly.”

Vernon rolls his eyes and grins while watching his friend flirt with you. He had seen Joshua flirt with girls before but never like this and out in the open. It had been at parties with the intent of having a quick hookup. This seemed like something different.

Sliding the drinks across the counter, Vernon clears his throat, managing to get your attention first. You smile at him and step away from Joshua to take out your wallet as Joshua shakes his head and reaches over you to tap his phone against the card reader, hearing the beep.

“Told you we’d see who was faster.”

Joshua watches as you talk to each person you meet as if you’d known them for most of your life. With your clipboard in your hands, you extend it towards the boy as he nods along with your words, agreeing with everything you had to say before taking your pen to sign his name. You were good at this—talking to people and standing up for something.

Smiling at the boy, you wave at him before he glances at Joshua quickly to just keep it friendly with you, wondering if the person following so closely behind you was your boyfriend or not. Though you were beginning to wonder if that was something he was trying to shoot for or not, he had been standing closer and closer to you. His hand rested on the small of your back as he held on to your half finished drink, letting you talk to people about your petition.

“Awesome, so just like... Seven more doors this way and this floor is done. Are you sure you aren’t getting bored?”

Offering you your drink by just putting it up to your lips, Joshua watches you laugh and lean in to take the straw into your mouth so you can take a sip as he shakes his head. This was the opposite of boring to him. Yeah, the task wasn’t the most interesting thing in the world but the company was perfect.

“I’m great and I know at least three of the guys who live in dorms up ahead so I will actually be helpful today.”

Shaking your head, you lick your lips, drawing Joshua’s attention to them as he furrows his brows, finding himself wanting to kiss them. Joshua knew that was too fast. He knew it would probably freak you out, but, dammit, you were driving him crazy.

“You’ve been so helpful all day; are you kidding? You’ve made this fly by. Yesterday, I felt like I was doing this for like 30 hours straight. This is actually enjoyable with you hanging out with me.”

So you liked hanging out with him too. He was for sure letting that go straight to his head. You watch as Joshua’s pretty lips pull up into a smile and his cheeks get fuller, causing his eyes to almost close and make perfect half circles. You were starting to love that smile. It was a real smile and it made butterflies flutter around in your stomach like they were at a rave.

“It’s my pleasure, seriously. I’d like to hang out with you more… You know, not just doing this stuff. Maybe dinner? Movie? My friend’s are actually having a party next Friday. If you aren’t, ya know, doing something else.”

Joshua Hong was asking you out. Fuck, the butterflies were flying up to your throat and you were feeling a bit queasy with how excited you were. Grinning, you almost skip in place before starting down the hall towards the next door, causing Joshua to laugh and move to catch up with you.

“Y/N…What do you say? You wanna go with me? Maybe... see where this goes?”

Feeling his free hand on your bicep, you look back at Joshua, biting at your lip as you just nod before meeting his eyes. You almost didn’t trust yourself to say anything but the look on his face made you feel like you were melting. You hadn’t had anyone look at you like that before. You knew it was university and that people were meant to fall in and out of love but you could see yourself falling for Joshua hard and quick.

“Yeah, I'd like that.”

Sliding his hand along your arm, Joshua moves his fingers to your wrist, letting his fingers loosely wrap around it. He nods and takes in a breath, fighting the urge to either move his hand down to yours to take it into his or to lean in the few inches it would take him to claim your lips for a first kiss. Not like this. Not while you were standing in a dingy hallway while other students pushed past you, both trying to get to one of their only working showers.

Letting go of your arm, Joshua smiles and gestures forward, letting you take the lead once again until you reach the first door and he reaches past you to knock on it hard in a pattern that makes your head tilt. This had to be one of his friend’s dorms. One look at the whiteboard in front of you confirmed it as you read a message from Chan stating that “Choi Seungcheol is a huge dick” only for “is a” to be marked out and “has a” to be written under it in someone else's writing.

When the door in front of you opens, you instantly avert your eyes from the shirtless man in front of you, who curses and darts off to the side, muttering Joshua’s name under his breath. Standing behind you, Joshua slides his hand over your hip and laughs as he watches Seungcheol look around for a shirt, tugging it over his head before he comes back to the door.

“What? You always answer the door half naked like a caveman? He’s dressed now, Y/N; nothing will be burned into your memory for eternity.”

Sighing loudly, Seungcheol rolls his eyes and throws up his hands in confusion, gesturing to you before you look back at him and offer him a smile. You were cute; you were really fucking cute and Joshua had his hand on your hip. Fuck. You were off the table.

“Hi, I am so freaking sorry about that. I should have maybe said something, but I didn’t, ya know...”

Shaking his head and waving his hand, Seungcheol makes a scoffing sound and gestures for you both to come in.

“It’s fine. It's not like you saw anything important. I was just shirtless; just didn’t expect to see a pretty girl at my door with that knock. Just expected an idiot.”

Hearing his friend call you a pretty girl, Joshua shoots Seungcheol a look only to get back a shrug and a gesture in your direction as if to say, Well, am I wrong? You glance around the room and smile at Seungcheol once again before putting your clipboard against your chest and taking a breath.

“I’m Y/N, but Joshua just said that...  uh I’m here—”

“She needs you to sign a petition. You know that fucking dude with the bird who gives it a bath in the water fountain?”

Furrowing his brows at the whiplash of words being spit at him, Seungcheol looks from you to Joshua before laughing and nodding. He did know which guy Joshua was talking about. He had taken a video of the kid giving the bird a bath in that fountain and sent it to Seungkwan, which resulted in a bit of backlash on the kid but not as much as it should have.

“Yeah, of course. What’s the petition gonna do?”

Moving forward, you offer the clipboard to Seungcheol, explaining your cause and how it would work as Joshua watches you with his friend. Once again, he was mesmerized by you and how easy it seemed to be for you to pick up a conversation with just about anyone.

Taking the pen and clipboard, Seungcheol sits on this bed and works on filling it out between glaces between you and Joshua, a smirk lifting at one corner of his lips.

“Surprised to see you fighting for a cause, Shua.”

Narrowing his eyes, Joshua waits to see the proper lines signed before he steps forward, taking it from Seungcheol’s hands with a curt thank you.

“You shouldn’t be. Y/N was doing this alone… I just thought she could use some company.”

That explained it. The hand on the hip, him following you around like a love-sick puppy, that look in his eye when you moved anywhere in the room. Joshua Hong was whipped.

“Ah, I see. Just helping, Y/N out. What a good boyfriend, sorry friend. What are you?”

Groaning at Seungcheol’s words, Joshua rolls his eyes and moves to grab your hand as you try to defend him and yourself, only to be guided towards the door and out of the room as the man behind you laughs and apologizes.

“Shua! I’m kidding. You’re cute together, that’s all. Don’t go away mad.”

Slamming the door behind him, Joshua leans against the wall, glancing at you as his fingers start to slip from yours, only for you to close your fingers around his as you look up at him.

“You did ask me out, so he’s not that far off. I mean, you're not like my boyfriend, you know...” Joshua grins as you lower your voice, like it's a secret, when you finish your sentence. “Yet, we did say we’d see where it could go. Don’t be mad at your friends for teasing just because of me.”

Running his fingers along yours, Joshua sighs softly at your words before nodding. He couldn’t help but let his eyes move along your face, enjoying being this close to you. He could imagine how much he was going to enjoy getting to know you better and spending more time with you when there wasn’t some task in the way.

“You’re right. I’m not mad at him and I’m certainly not embarrassed, I just don’t want you to be freaked out by it or anything. Don’t wanna scare you off.”

With your bottom lip caught between your teeth, you let it go only to smile and shake your head as Joshua’s thumb moves in a circle along the palm of your hand.

“I’m not scared.”

You were scared as you stood in front of the mirror you and your roommate had haphazardly leaned against the wall. Your dress was short and your boots were borrowed. You could hear music quietly playing from Yeji’s laptop as she gives you a once over and a thumbs up.

“You look hot.”

Whining, you tug at the end of your dress and meet her eyes in the mirror as you tilt your head.

“You sure you won’t come along? I could use backup.”

Shaking her head, Yeji gestures at her laptop and laughs before offering you a sympathetic pout. She had already given up so much of her time today to help you get ready, not to mention letting you borrow her favorite boots to complete your outfit.

“I have to finish this paper before midnight or Professor Byun is going to drop me from the class. I wish I could come with you. It sounds like a hell of a lot more fun than a stupid research paper.”

Still whining, you move to Yeji’s desk, wrapping your arms around her from behind and granting yourself another laugh as she holds your arms and leans back against you. You had gotten lucky with your roommate. While so many others ended up switching after a year, you and Yeji had stuck together, and she was your best friend.

“If you finish it and want to get out of the room, just come out to the party. Joshua said there will be lots of people there and it will go until early in the morning.”

You feel Yeji nod against your cheek before she sighs and pats your arms to get you to let her go.

“I promise, but I also want you to just have a good time. Don’t worry about me. Go hang out with your boyfriend.”

Warmth was creeping along your cheeks again as you stood to your full height and moved to pick up your jacket, pulling it over your arms. Muttering, you pick up your phone, glancing over your messages, seeing one from Joshua about picking you up soon.

“He’s not my boyfriend yet…”

Even with the words spoken behind a whine and under your breath, Yeji can make them out and she laughs, feeling endeared by you. It was nice to see you happy and focusing on more than just school for once.

“Yet.”

A knock at your door causes you to take a deep breath as Yeji squeals excitedly, turning in her chair. She had met Joshua in passing a few times over the week but this felt different even for her. This was your first date with him, officially.

Joshua grins at hearing the quiet, happy squeals behind the door as he waits. He had been excited about this all day, to the point that Chan had left for Wonwoo and Mingyu’s house well in advance, leaving him in the dorm by himself to pace.

Taking in a sharp breath when the door opens, Joshua can’t help the way his eyes move over your face and then the length of your body in your outfit. He wasn’t sure what he had been expecting but you had just surpassed them all.

“Shit…”

Yeji grins at the interaction. She watches Joshua stare at you, stunned, and how you shy away, whining at him to stop it. Shaking her head, Yeji sighs and finally waves at Joshua, managing to catch his attention.

“Have a great time. I expect her home no later than 9 a.m.”

Laughing, Joshua can’t help but shake his head. He wanted to tell Yeji that he could keep that promise but right now he wasn’t sure he wanted to.

“Uh…I’ll do my best.”

Your cheeks were on fire at the exchange between your best friend and Joshua. What were they even trying to do? Groaning, you mutter a goodbye to Yeji as she giggles, telling you to have fun before slipping your hand into Joshua's, pulling him away from the door as you shut it behind you.

“You look gorgeous.”

Linking his fingers with yours, Joshua looks over at you as he walks with you out into the chilly night air, feeling you step a bit closer to him. He could see you smiling even under the dim streetlights. Your smile could light up rooms so it was doing wonders for him right now.

“Stop it. You look great. How am I going to keep my date to myself?”

Laughing, Joshua shakes his head and leans his head back to look up at the sky as the two of you walk towards frat houses. You could both hear several parties already in full swing but none of them were where you were headed.

“I promise I’m not leaving your side. Besides, I’m more concerned that I might have to fight for you. When I invited you to this, I didn’t really consider who could be there or even where it was going to be.” Joshua sighs a bit dejected before glancing back over at you. “Most girls look at some of my friends, like Mingyu or Wonwoo, Cheol and I watch as our dates find someone else to talk to.”

Furrowing your brows, you come to a stop, forcing Joshua to do the same or to drop your hand. Looking back at you, he sees the disappointed look on your face and sighs once again, moving back to stand in front of you.

“Do I look like most girls to you, Joshua Hong?”

His smirk pulls at one side of his lips as Joshua watches you and how serious you look standing in front of him. He hadn’t said what he had to get some sort of sympathy from you, just as a true statement of what he had experienced in the past, but clearly you weren’t having any of it. Shaking his head, Joshua leans forward to brush his lips across your cheek before he speaks against your skin.

“No, you don’t.”

Closing your eyes, you try to stay still when Joshua kisses your cheek. You hadn’t expected it but you weren’t against it either. Smiling, you open your eyes as he starts to lean back, only for his eyes to drop to your lips before they lift once again to your eyes.

“I–okay…So don’t say things like that. I’m going with you.”

Your voice was quieter than you intended but Joshua just smiles, tightening his fingers with yours as he leads you up the few steps into the house that his friends were renting. The house wasn’t massive by the standards of the other major frat houses but for the available rentals, Wonwoo and Mingyu had lucked out.

Inside, you glance around, noticing a few familiar faces but many more that you had only seen while passing around campus. Joshua grins, sliding his hand from yours in place of putting it around your waist, keeping you close to him as he guides you through the house and towards the living room, where he waves at a tall, handsome man holding a red solo cup.

“Shua! You made it!”

You find yourself smiling at the man’s infectious enthusiasm as he moves through the smaller crowd to pat Joshua’s back and smile at you, lifting his brows.

“Course I did. Uh…Gyu…” You watch Joshua’s brows furrow as you look from him to the other man, waiting for the introduction before he gestures at you. “This is Y/N. Y/N this is Kim Mingyu.”

Offering his hand, you take it, letting the larger man encompass yours briefly before he looks back at Joshua and laughs.

“Wow…I owe Jeonghan fifty bucks. Fuck.”

Shaking his head, Mingyu walks towards the kitchen, leaving you and Joshua watching him a bit confused before the man at your side sighs and slides his arm back around you.

“Don’t know what that was about. Sorry…Clearly, he pre-gamed.”

You simply smile and lean in to kiss Joshua’s cheek, feeling the warmth spread across his face under your lips, before you pull back to meet his eyes.

“Don’t worry so much. I think they are just happy to see you here with somebody. If I had to take a guess.”

Furrowing his brows, Joshua swallows hard, his eyes moving over your face and down to your pretty smile before he lets out a breath and a laugh.

“Yeah? Think that’s what's going on?”

Nodding, you try to act as nonchalant as possible, feeling Joshua’s fingers pressing into your hip.

“Mhm. Between that and what happened yesterday with Seungcheol…”

Smiling, Joshua just shakes his head, trying to keep himself from doing anything stupid or too quick, as you bite at your bottom lip and give him such a sweet look of innocence. Seungcheol furrows his brows as he wrinkles his nose to the feeling of smoke tickling it. Vernon tries to pass the bong back over to him while Chan mutters to himself, sitting between them and looking at his laptop.

Joshua leads you through the living room, where Seungcheol looks a lot more relaxed than the last time you saw him. He grins at Joshua, pointing at him before letting his lips fall into a pout.

“Took you long enough.” Using Chan’s arm to sit up, Seungcheol groans to himself as he whines out his complaint to Joshua, knowing that usually he would be the buffer between him and Chan. “Do you know how much shit I have had to listen to Chan spew while I waited on you to get your ass here?”

Glancing from Joshua to you when Joshua lifts his hand and starts to speak, Seungcheol grins, finally seeming to realize you had joined his friend.

“Shit…Y/N. You came.” Pushing at Chan’s leg, Seungcheol pats a few times at the couch, getting lost in what he is doing before he looks back up at you and smiles a bit lopsided again. “Sit down.”

Shaking his head, Joshua watches as you laugh amused with high Seungcheol’s antics as Chan whines, having his laptop pushed on his lap towards Vernon, who was engrossed in his phone watching tetris competitions.

“We’re gonna mingle a bit first, Cheol. She might want a drink.” Glancing towards you, Joshua furrows his brows, realizing he hadn’t even asked. “Do you want a drink?”

Smiling at him once again, you glance around the room and towards the kitchen, before biting at your lip and pulling his attention towards it again.

“Sure, hang out for a minute. I’ll get them.”

Joshua starts to tell you he’ll get drinks but you let go of his hand and head towards the kitchen, where Mingyu yells your name, granting himself one of your pretty laughs. Seungcheol tilts his head with lidded eyes, letting his gaze lazily move down your legs before glancing up at his friend.

“She’s hot.” grinning, he leans his head back against the couch with a hazy smile. “If you don’t date her, I’m gonna shoot my shot. Still can’t believe you got her to show up.”

Slapping the side of Seungcheol’s head, Joshua listens to the man laugh as he leans forward to take another hit, letting out an exhale of smoke as he finally leans back on the couch. Lifting his brow in half annoyance and amusement, Joshua looks back towards the kitchen, seeing you smile at something Jeonghan was telling you. He wasn’t sure how he had managed it either.

During the week, Joshua tried to keep himself busy and on track but on the weekends, he allowed himself to enjoy everything that university life had to offer. He had good friends with cheap alcohol and decent weed. Joshua watched you snake your way back through the crowd, two drinks in your hand and a smile on your face, and Joshua realized now he had you to add to that list.

“I literally have no idea what’s in these cups. Jeonghan said it was juice and Soonyoung said it was death.” You laugh sweetly and Joshua swoons, not knowing if it was the atmosphere getting to him or you as you tilt your head and speak before you take a sip of one cup. “I like your friends, Joshua.”

Taking the other cup, Joshua takes a sip, recognizing the mixture of alcohols and various fruit juices as a Yoon Jeonghan special before making a face. You don’t seem to hold the same displeasure on your face but Joshua knows that can only mean that you might drink too much of it and regret it later, he would just have to keep an eye on you.

“Like it?”

Nodding, you tip back the drink, and Joshua’s suspicion is confirmed as you lick your lips, emptying your cup, and glancing back at the kitchen, causing him to laugh.

“Listen, there is enough alcohol in this to fuel a jet. One more and then we maybe…wander out to the hot tub.”

Glancing towards the sliding glass doors, you try to see where a hot tub might be but you aren’t able to see it from the living room, making you furrow your brows. Instead of questioning Joshua, you just laugh and tilt your head, feeling a bit shy about what you have to say next.

“You didn’t tell me to wear anything for a hot tub.”

He hadn’t. Joshua smiles, glancing down at his drink before taking a bigger gulp and nodding to your words.

“I didn’t wear anything either. We can just wear what we have... or figure it out.”

Your face was on fire but it could be the "juice.” You needed more courage to see where this was going. With your smile growing in size, you can’t help but laugh. Nodding, Joshua nods along with you before you feel your fingers slide along his before you head back towards the kitchen.

Seungcheol makes a face, trying to read what Chan was pointing at his laptop. He was trying hard to get him or Vernon to look at the screen and read what he had been writing for most of the night.

“No, ‘cause listen. If I say she breasted boobily, does that sound hot?”

Vernon blinks at his phone before looking over at the laptop and reading over the paragraph that Chan had been working on for over an hour before sighing heavily.

“I don’t know, man. It’s fanfiction. I think you can say whatever in hell you wanna say.”

Joshua furrowed his brow, a bit confused at the conversation, as he stood next to the couch. He wasn’t sure he had just witnessed as he watched Seungcheol stare blankly at the screen for a few more seconds before the man shifts his gaze back over to him and grins, seeming to remember he was there.

“Sit down, man. Hang out.”

Glancing towards the kitchen, where you were laughing at something Wonwoo was saying and back to Seungcheol, Joshua lifts his hand to scratch at his cheek before shaking his head. Seungcheol was starting to pout again and attempting to make more room on the three seater couch when Joshua shook his head.

“Maybe later.”

Patting Seungcheol on the shoulder, Joshua listens to the man whine as he walks towards the kitchen with his eyes fixed on you. Sliding his hand around your waist, Joshua feels you jump slightly, your eyes moving from Wonwoo to him as you smile.

“Hey, you weren’t coming back.”

You could feel your cheeks burning at Joshua’s attention but also the other eyes in the room as Wonwoo smirked at how jealous Joshua was acting.

“I was just talking to Wonwoo. He was telling me that you make some mean french toast apparently.”

Smiling, Joshua leans to kiss your cheek before glancing at Wonwoo and tilting his head.

“Camping stories?”

Wonwoo just grins, lifting his cup to his lips to take a sip before nodding and furrowing his brows.

“Thinking about planning another trip for the summer. Maybe Y/N will come with us this time.”

The idea of it made Joshua excited and nervous as he glanced to judge the expression on your face. You seemed intrigued as you clinged to his side, your smile once again lighting up the room.

“Sounds fun.”

It was sounding more and more like you were planning on sticking around with Joshua and his friends. Holding on to you a bit tighter, Joshua takes in a breath and gestures over his shoulder,  causing Wonwoo’s eyes to follow his hand before his friend meets his eyes again, only to smile.

“It does; hey, do you mind if I borrow the hot tub?”

A louder laugh from your right makes you smile as Mingyu slides back through the kitchen, picking up a fresh cup and pouring more of the juice into it as he shakes his head to answer Joshua’s question.

“Go for it, man. Just keep cum out of it.”

You make a face at the wording but Joshua just laughs, causing Wonwoo to meet his eyes and for Joshua to grow a bit more serious. Taking a step towards the doorway, Joshua picks up a smaller bottle, watching Wonwoo’s head tilt and his mouth start to open when he just grins and winks before turning to also pick up two shot glasses.

“Okay, got it. Hot tub is for relaxation only.”

Glancing around the backyard, you take the last sips of your drink as Joshua mutters to himself before making an “ah ha” sound. You gasp, watching strings of lights light up across the deck and into the trees near the hot tub, where Joshua stands grinning at you, looking pleased with himself.

“When it’s warmer weather, they throw outdoor parties or leave the doors open. I helped them hang up the lights.”

Joshua watches you glance around the lights, a smile on your face, before you once again look at him, causing his head to spin. He knew he was a goner when it came to you. You could tell him to jump on one leg and bark like a dog and he’d probably do it for you without many questions at this point just because you smiled at him.

Moving back towards the hot tub, Joshua whispers “tada” before showing you the smaller bottle of tequila and shot glasses he had commandeered from the kitchen. He grins as you laugh, moving in a bit closer to him to tilt your head. You watch as he sits the bottle on the side of the hot tub before he moves back in touching distance as you narrow your eyes playfully.

“And where did that come from? Just happen to keep bottles of tequila on you at all times?”

Wincing Joshua closes one eye as if he’s trying to think of something, feeling your hands sliding along his sides. Your laugh causes Joshua to smile and meet your eyes even as your fingers tug at the end of his shirt so your fingertips can brush over his bare skin just above his jeans. You had more courage and you weren’t going to let it go to waste.

“It was sitting on the counter. Wonwoo might yell at me later for taking it but all is fair at a party. Don’t have it on the counter if it's not up for grabs.”

Sucking in a breath, Joshua tilts his head as he feels your fingers sliding under his shirt along his back, lifting his shirt. You looked almost too pretty under the twinkling string lights and feeling your warm fingers running along his back as the chilly air also bit at his skin was intoxicating.

“You are killing me, Y/N.”

Laughing softly and sweetly, you trail your fingers further up his torso, making Joshua groan as he finally gives in, leaning back only enough so that he can tug his shirt up and over his head, giving you what you want. Your eyes move from his handsome face down over his toned chest and down to his stomach. You couldn't help yourself as you smiled, running your thumbs along the top of his v-cut feeling. Joshua takes in a deep breath, leaning his head back to look up at the night sky.

“You are so handsome, Josh.”

Closing his eyes, Joshua groans quietly to himself before looking back at your face as you give him that same innocent look that had been driving him crazy for two days. With his thumb and forefinger on either side of your chin, Joshua holds your face in place as he leans in to brush his lips over yours for the first time, listening to the sharp intake of breath get caught in your throat. It wasn’t a full kiss but it made you want to chase after one, and the way his fingers were holding you in place, all you could do was whine and press your nails into Joshua’s sides.

“Patience, baby.”

Plush lips caress yours and a large hand slides along your neck as Joshua finally gives into you, taking not only your breath but every thought in your head with his first kiss. You moan softly into his mouth as his other hand slides along your hip and down to grip at your ass, causing your brows to furrow.

Smiling against your lips, Joshua pecks at them once more before sliding his hand from your ass to your leg to slip your dress along your thigh as you look up at him.

“This okay? I figure you don’t want to get your dress wet. “

Nodding, you shrug out of your jacket, letting Joshua work the tight dress up your body and over your head, leaving you in your bra and panties as he works to kick off his jeans. You find yourself watching him shyly as you pick up your clothes and put them into a chair, your borrowed boots safely tucked away underneath as Joshua smirks at you.

You were stunning. You weren’t wearing anything special. There wasn’t any lace and nothing matched but it didn’t need to. It was perfect because it was you and he wanted more. He could just imagine being between your legs or kissing your breasts as he watched you move back towards him and the hot tub. Feeling your hand trembling in his as he helped you into the warm water, Joshua knew you needed a bit more time.

Taking in a deep breath, you smile as Joshua leans to press the button, causing the hot tub to start running and the jets to cause the water to bubble and roar around the two of you as he settles in near you. Steam rising from the surface, you watch him through it as he leans his head back for a moment before reaching for the bottle he had taken, cracking up the seal to pour each of you a shot, offering you one.

“To possibilities?”

Trying to hold back a laugh, you press your lips together and nod as Joshua laughs at your reaction. He knew it was a silly toast but it was what he wanted—a world full of possibilities with you. Tipping back your glass, you make a bit of a face to the taste and feeling of the burn as the alcohol runs down your throat. Joshua follows suit, letting out a breath before nodding and putting his glass back securely on the side.

You could feel that your head was lighter, your inhibitions were low as the drinks from the night had all begun to mix in your system. Joshua watches as you smile brightly, putting your glass very carefully beside his before you turn to look at him curiously.

“Truth or dare, Joshua Hong?”

Chuckling as you use his full name, Joshua moves his hand to run it along your arm as he starts to enjoy the buzzed feeling as his head tilts to your question.

“Truth.”

Biting at your lip, you can’t help but wrinkle your nose at his answer. You knew you were the same way when it came to truth or dare but you had pictured Joshua as a dare kind of guy.

“Mmkay. What was your first impression of me?”

Lifting his brows, Joshua laughs once again, realizing this was how this game was going to go. You watch as he reaches for the bottle of tequila, pouring another couple of shots, allowing you to grab your own. Hissing at the taste, Joshua narrows his eyes at you before smiling and pouring another shot a bit nervously.

“I opened the door and thought, Damn, what a pretty girl.”

Watching you smile and tilt your shot glass back, Joshua can’t help but smile as you giggle a bit to yourself. Reaching forward, Joshua wipes a bit of tequila from your chin, causing you to whine and lean into his touch.

“And I still think that, ‘cause you are so fucking pretty. Truth or dare.”

Feeling almost too warm, you lift out of the water a bit, only shifting yourself closer to Joshua, who takes a deep breath when your chest lifts from the water briefly. Moving his eyes from your breasts to your face, Joshua presses his lips together when he feels you almost sit on his lap as you purse your lips, thinking hard before speaking.

“I’ll pick truth too.”

Turning your attention back to Joshua, you are almost surprised to see him so close. Starting to apologize, you laugh, feeling Joshua’s hand slide around your hip to your back to keep you in place.

“You’re fine, right where you are. In fact…”

Sliding his legs apart, Joshua watches as you dip your chin under the water, feeling him shift his leg under your ass so that you can rest comfortably on his lap.

“Now…I’m curious what’s on your mind right now. So that’s my question. Tell me what you are thinking.”

Flexing your fingers, you try to figure out where to put them but feeling Joshua’s fingers sliding along the top of your panties at the small of your back, you can’t help but whine before resting your arm around his neck and your other hand against his chest. The feeling of being close to Joshua comes naturally, and you start to feel thankful for the water surrounding you, knowing that you were becoming aroused from even just sitting on his lap.

“Right now? Um…lots of things.”

Joshua grins, his free hand daring to caress your leg under the water, feeling your legs part instinctively for him even though he doesn’t do more than run his thumb along your inner thigh.

“Yeah? Tell me three of them.”

Sighing, you furrow your brows and shift on his leg, causing Joshua to rub his lips together at the feeling. He liked this too much, having you this close to him. Feeling your body press up against his and having your fingers walk along your skin as you thought of your answer.

“I was thinking about the camping trip and how that might be nice.”

Joshua smirks as you seem to stall in telling him anything he might actually want to know. It wasn’t that he disagreed with the sentiment; it was that he knew you had more on your mind. Nodding, he watches as you smile and avoids his eyes, letting your voice drop in volume so that you can barely be heard over the roar of the jets.

“And I was thinking about when you kissed me. About how I wanted you to–to do that again.”

Grinning, Joshua lets his eyes move to your lips and back up to your eyes as you stumble over your words. Leaning forward, he rests his lips against yours without applying pressure as you whine his name, pressing your fingers against his chest.

“One more, Y/N.”

You couldn’t think like this, not with Joshua’s lips hovering over yours and his breath warm against your face. Closing your eyes, you try to let yourself melt into his touch, enjoying the feeling of his fingers moving over your skin as you finally answer him.

“Just want you to fuck me. That’s what’s on my mind.”

Joshua’s lips press against yours firmly, his hand sliding from your thigh to your waist to pull you towards him tightly. He wasn’t being careful anymore, not when he knew what you wanted. Groaning into your mouth, Joshua furrows his brows, feeling you adjust your legs over his so that you are straddling him and are able to roll your hips down to grind over his hardening length.

“Fuck…” The word is drawn out on a breath when Joshua pulls back from kissing you to lean his head back at the feeling of your hips rolling over him. “Baby, that feels good. Feels too good.”

He was calling you baby again and your head was spinning. You smile, leaning to press a kiss to the column of Joshua’s throat when it’s exposed to you, drawing another groan out of the man’s mouth. Hands tighten on your ass and Joshua laughs out your name in disbelief, moving his head so he can meet your eyes.

“You are gonna make me break my promise about cum in the hot tub.”

Fingers dig into your skin under the elastic of your panties as Joshua takes a deep breath, calming down before he nods and glances over his shoulder towards a door, considering his next action.

“We are going in there. I wouldn’t wanna fuck you in here anyway. I wanna take my time with you.”

Biting at your lips, you laugh softly, sliding off Joshua’s lap as he stands and helps you do the same. You furrow your brows once you are safely back on the patio, feeling the cold air biting at your skin while watching Joshua collect your clothing and his own.

“What room is that? Should I get dressed?”

Leaning to kiss your shoulder, Joshua grins against your skin, shaking his head as he shivers just as much as you from the cold air. You feel him usher you towards the door, letting you open it, happy to find it unlocked.

“It’s Wonwoo’s room. We are just gonna…you know, borrow it.”

Blinking a few times in the dark as Joshua trips over a few things, muttering to himself before he finds a lamp, you smile, finally able to look around as he moves to the other door, locking it.

“And Wonwoo won’t mind if we borrow his room?”

Joshua drops the last of the clothes onto the floor before moving back over to you and sliding his hands up your wet back towards your bra clasp as he shakes his head. You can’t help but laugh as Joshua mutters about Wonwoo's understanding needs. You knew it was a weak argument but you weren’t going to go against it.

Running your fingers through his hair, you moan Joshua’s name as you feel his fingers tug at the straps of your bra, freeing your body from the garment. The room was much warmer than it had been outside but chillbumps were still spreading across your skin.

“You are so fucking beautiful.”

Joshua shakes his head mostly in disbelief at himself thinking about how you had been living on the same floor as him just five doors down all this time and he had clearly been an idiot or blind. Scratching his nails along the back of your arms, Joshua leans down to kiss the top of each of your breasts with a low groan to the soft feeling of your skin against his lips. He was already addicted to you and he had barely had a taste.

“Please…Josh–ah…don’t tease me.”

Smiling against your nipple, Joshua lifts your right breast, kneading at the soft mound before taking the bud into his mouth and sucking hard, feeling you arch against his mouth. Walking backwards, you hear Joshua whine, feeling you start to pull from him, causing him to have to hold on to your waist to keep your breast in his mouth. You don’t stop walking until you feel the bed behind your knees and you whisper to Joshua that you need to lay down.

“Mm, okay, wait. Don’t get the bed wet.”

You smile as Joshua moves to one knee, sliding his hands up your thighs and finally to your hips to tug your panties down your legs. Closing your eyes, you take a breath, letting it out slowly, feeling his lips move over your thighs until his hands reach your ankles.

“Lay down, baby.”

Helping you down, Joshua tilts his head, taking in every inch of your body as he feels his cock throb jerk behind his boxers. You were perfect in every single way. He wasn’t even sure what he wanted first. Lifting his hand, Joshua runs his hand over his mouth as your hand barely traces the curve of his shaft as you wait for him with a questioning look on your face.

“Just trying to think where Wonwoo might keep his condoms.”

When you smile, a quiet laugh falls from your lips. Joshua can’t help but mimic your smile, sliding his fingers into the top of his boxers and working them down his hips as you watch. Your brows lifting, you take in a breath before licking your lips, obviously hungry for what was in front of you, watching his cock bounce back up at attention as his boxers fall to the floor.

“I…I’m good. I have an IUD and I get tested. Unless you just want one.”

Taking a deep breath, Joshua takes one more long look at your body before focusing on your pretty face and shivering at the idea of having you raw. There was no way he was going to say no to that.

“Okay…No, I’m good. I get tested too…  Fuck, are you sure?”

Nodding, you lift your hand out for Joshua as he rests his knee between your legs, feeling the wet warmth of your pussy against his thigh. Lacing his fingers with yours, Joshua pins your hand to the bed next to your head as he lays over you, smiling against your lips and feeling your hips roll over his thigh.

“You are so wet, baby.” You whimper against Joshua’s lips, his teeth catching your bottom lip and dragging it out just slightly before he lets go with a groan. “I wanna eat you out so fucking bad but I also wanna fuck this mouth…”

Gripping his bicep hard, you dig your nails into his skin hard enough to leave small half moon divots, causing Joshua to hiss at your reaction to his words. Smirking, he presses kisses on your jaw up to your ear, speaking against it causing chillbumps to once again spread across your skin.

“You like that? When I talk dirty to you? Tell you what I wanna do to you.”

Nodding, you bury your face against Joshua’s hair, feeling embarrassed as he laughs and presses kisses on your neck. Leaning back on his elbow, Joshua looks down at you, watching you try to hide from him until he pulls his hand from yours to turn your face back towards him so he can run his thumb over your lips, causing him to groan quietly. He knew what he wanted.

Laying in the middle of the bed on his back, Joshua smirks at you as you sit back on your feet, watching him get comfortable. You smile as he slides the pillow from under his head and lifts his hands, beckoning you towards him, only to tell you to stop when you start to crawl on top of him.

“Uh huh…  I want you on my face; let me see your ass.”

His hand slides along your leg as you whine, unsure, but Joshua just nods and helps you get in position with your knees on either side of his face as you rest your hands on his chest. Running his hands along the back of your legs up to your ass, Joshua groans at all he can see in front of him before he grips your hips and pulls your pussy down to his mouth, running his tongue flat against you to get his first taste.

You gasp loudly, your nails digging into his chest, feeling his tongue running along your folds and pressing into your entrance for just a taste of the arousal that had already dripped from you. Leaning your head forward, you find yourself sliding your hips back and down over Joshua’s face and closer to his tongue as he groans, lapping at your clit, before sucking hard and making you cry out his name.

With each passing moment, you find yourself sliding further and further down Joshua’s body until you realize you could give him exactly what he wanted. Wrapping your hand around Joshua’s cock, you twist your hand and feel him pause between your legs, his fingers pulling you back towards his face as he lifts his head up to suck your soft folds into his mouth.

“Josh…fuck. Oh my god…  I’m getting so close. I want your cock, okay?”

You couldn’t hear what Joshua was saying as he groaned against your pussy; he was too far gone and too drunk to care but anything you wanted was yours. The moment you wrap your lips around his tip, Joshua has to let his head fall back and take a deep breath as he mutters your name.

A warm, wet mouth envelopes him as your tongue presses against the underside of his cock right up until the point that you can’t take a single centimeter more of Joshua before you pull back with a gasp. Tears start to run down your face even as you smile, feeling Joshua’s fingers parting your folds so his tongue can get right back to work, driving you closer and closer to your orgasm that was right on the cusp.

With Joshua’s cock buried in your mouth once again, you moan around him, only pulling back when you feel the overwhelming pressure take over you as your orgasm rips through your body. Resting your forehead against Joshua’s stomach, you whimper his name as your thighs shake almost violently at the feeling of his fingers slowly sliding from your tight walls and along each side of your clit.

Large hands run along your thighs and up over your back as Joshua tries to soothe you before finally managing to move you to his side so he can pull you into his arms and press his lips to yours. You furrow your brows to the taste of yourself on his lips but smile at the feeling of his hand gliding along your skin to your thigh, pulling your leg across his hip to keep you close to him.

“You okay?”

Nodding, you rub your lips together and laugh under your breath, feeling Joshua’s nose nudge against yours before he kisses you softly once more. You felt like jelly but you felt good. You wanted more. You needed him completely and you knew that he still needed more.

Joshua hums against your cheek, feeling your hand slide along his stomach and down towards his cock, resting against his lower abdomen. Your smaller hand felt good and your mouth had felt even better but he had felt your pussy around his fingers and on his tongue and he was craving it on his cock now. Kissing your cheek, Joshua smiles against your skin while dragging his nails along your thigh as you lazily stroke him and speak just above a whisper.

“Fuck me, Joshua.”

You feel him nudge his nose against your cheek as he rolls you on to your back, moving his body between your legs. You knew he was a large man but underneath him, you felt even smaller and vulnerable in the best ways. Arching your back, you moan softly, letting Joshua slide your leg once more along his up to his hip, causing your wet folds to separate once again.

“I was planning on it.”

Joshua sucks in a breath, watching your eyes close on a silent moan as he slowly works his cock into you for the first time. You were tight and the stretch was evident on your face. Your brows furrowed tightly, and you took a deep breath only when Joshua bottomed out and stopped to allow you time to adjust.

Resting his lips against your shoulder, Joshua groans, trying not to think about how tightly you are squeezing him or how much he already wants to cum as you scratch his back. Instead, he just takes a deep breath and turns his head towards you to make sure you are okay. You blink tears from your eyes at how good the stretch feels and nod to Joshua’s words, begging him to move, lifting your hips in order to get him to do something.

“Shh, fuck baby. I’m–shit…okay. I was gonna go slow.”

Shaking your head, you run your fingers through the back of Joshua’s damp hair at the nape of his neck, pulling his lips back to yours as you speak between kisses, feeling his hips finally meeting yours and sending your head towards the headboard with each deep thrust.

“No, I want it. Feels so fucking good. Please, Joshua.”

You were going to be the death of him. Hissing out a groan on your lips, Joshua moves to rest his forehead against yours as he gives you what you want and thrusts into you hard and fast, making you cry out his name. The sound of the music from the party was still loud enough to keep him from wondering if anyone might hear you but at this point, his pride was starting to hope maybe someone would. He wanted them to know how good he was making you feel.

“Yes–ha…fuck! Josh–”

Joshua had fucked other girls and had them scream his name but no one else had made his head swell and spin like you did. Every time you said his name, Joshua felt like he was floating.  He felt like he was sending you to the moon every single time he buried his cock in you. Even if that wasn’t how you felt, he knew that you felt like heaven and he could die happy after being between your legs and in your arms.

Feeling your walls tighten around him, Joshua groans your name, burying his face into the crook of your neck. He could tell you were getting close just from the way you were squeezing his cock but you were also pushing him over the edge. He had been skirting it and doing his best not to let go too quickly but with one last scratch of your nails along his back and a soft moan from your lips, Joshua’s body shakes as, with each thrust, he pushes his cum back into you.

“Please…” You listen to Joshua’s whine into a moan as he leans back to watch his cum drip out of you with each thrust. “Cum for me?”

Feeling his thumb press against your clit, rubbing small circles against the swollen bundle of nerves, you cry out Joshua’s name as your thighs begin to shake when he sends you back over the edge, spiraling into your orgasm once again. Joshua licks his lips, watching your face this time as you cum, his eyes fixated on your lips and how they fall open when you moan so loudly that he’s certain someone had to have heard you.

Carefully slipping from you, Joshua lays on top of you, enjoying the feeling of your fingers running through his hair as he catches his breath. He could hear your heart racing and how it was steadily starting to calm down as the minutes passed. He could hear your breath evening out and he could feel the dampness of your skin against his cheek.

“I need a shower. Fuck…”

Your laugh makes Joshua smile against your chest before he leans back to look up at you, leaning to press his lips to yours once and then again furrowing his brows. You could see the question on his face and feel his apprehension as he took a breath.

“I–yeah. Same. Are you wanting to leave? I can take you back to your dorm. I – cause you know this was fun. I’d like to see you again. You know more often...”

Smiling, you lift your hand to run your thumb along Joshua’s jaw as he stumbles through his words. You knew he was a smart man and by all standards, he ran with a pretty popular crowd at the university, yet he was acting like some high school boy with a crush after fucking you into the mattress.

“Yeah? That mean you wanna date me, Joshua Hong?”

Joshua’s lips pull up into a smile at your words before he lays his face flat against your breasts, realizing how stupid he must have sounded for you to have to even ask that. Of course, he wanted to date you. This was the most cliche thing he could have done but he wanted you. Lifting his head, Joshua nods and sighs, gaining back some of his confidence.

“Yeah, hell yeah. I wanna date you. Wanna take you out as much as possible and keep you in my bed the rest of the time.”

Laughing, you shake your head, feeling your cheeks warm at Joshua’s words this time. It all sounded perfect but there were a few hiccups in his plan.

“Mm, I accept, however...  I don’t think Chan would want me in your bed that often.”

Scoffing, Joshua starts to lean up on his elbow, ready to explain just where Chan can shove his opinion, when a loud knock at the door startles you both, causing you to gasp. Wonwoo narrows his eyes at his bedroom door, trying the knob once again, only to groan.

“Who the fuck–Shua! Are you fucking in my bedroom?”

Widening his eyes almost dramatically, you watch Joshua hold back a laugh as he slips out of bed and starts tossing you some of your clothes as he slips his own on.

“Of course I am. I appreciate your donation to the cause, Wonwoo.”

Another loud fist to the door makes you stifle a laugh as Wonwoo groans in frustration, leaning his forehead against the door.

“You son of a bitch. First you stole my good tequila and now you fuck in my bed. You owe me liquor and sheets. I am going to kick your ass!”

Pointing at the door that the two of you had used to come into Wonwoo’s room, Joshua whispers for you to sneak out that way as he carefully unlocks the other door and tiptoes towards you.

“Yeah yeah…  You know I’m good for it, man!”

Slipping out the door, you squeal when the other door opens and Wonwoo yells Joshua’s name, only for Joshua to slam the other and grab your hand, telling you to run. With a smile on your face, you keep up with him as he helps you weave through the side yard and out onto the street that you had taken to get to the party. Pulling you into his arms, Joshua laughs as you do, glancing back to make sure Wonwoo wasn’t following you, only to hear his phone go off with a barrage of texts.

Wonwoo: I will fucking kill you.

Wonwoo: You are dead to me.

Wonwoo: I hope she is at least dating you now, asshole

Wonwoo: You are literally disgusting and I hate you

Joshua runs his thumb over the screen with a smirk as he catches his breath before holding his phone up to get a good angle of you both. Leaning in, he kisses you softly as he takes a few pictures, a smile pulling at the corner of his lips.

Shua: [pictures attached]

Shua: Maybe I’ll put a ring on it too.

Wonwoo: 🤢

© onlymingyus - all rights reserved. Reposting/modifying of any fic, or pieces of original writings posted on this blog is not allowed. Translations not allowed

#joshua smut #seventeen smut #svthub #svt smut #joshua hong smut #joshua fluff #seventeen fluff #svt fluff #joshua hong fluff #joshua crack #seventeen crack #svt crack #joshua hong crack #joshua x reader #seventeen x reader #joshua hong x reader #svt x reader

[strawbeerossi]

This Is Me Trying

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Ex-wife!Reader

Description: Spencer shows up at his ex wife’s door late in the night, riddled with guilt from years of their separation and needing to confide to her why he left her the first place.

Content Warning: Prison arc discussed but no spoilers, mention of PTSD, mentions of drug addiction/relapse, mention of violence, heart wrenching angst, crying, cunnilingus, fingering, unprotected sex, missionary, lovemaking, aftercare, happy ending.

Word count: 4.5K

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The last thing that she expected was to hear a firm knock against her apartment door. It was ten in the evening, who would need anything from her this late? Maybe it was Mrs. Martin, the sweet little old lady next door, wanting to drop off some freshly baked treat that she wanted her to try before she took it to one of her game nights. Which, Y/N had to admit, she loved when she’d come by with her signature chocolate chip brownies, she always made a heaping amount to share with her younger neighbor just because she expressed liking them one time.

She was approaching the front door. Using the peephole of the door, her heart sunk. Instead of seeing an older woman with a plate of treats in her hand, she was met with Spencer Reid.

It had been years since they talked last, the last time being a tearful Y/N begging her husband not to walk out the door, to stay and work out their marriage that she was afraid was starting to crumble into a thousand pieces. She could remember the bitterness, the hatred in his voice.

“Wait! Spencer, baby, please.” Y/N’s voice was hoarse from sobbing, her throat raw from having to yell over his loud voice just to get him to listen. “I know it’s hard but I need you to stay, we can work this out together. You know that. We always do.” Spencer was turning his head to face his wife, already packing his clothes away. “I don’t want to fucking stay. I don’t want your pity. Ever since I got home, you’re treating me like I’m some sort of child! I’m not!” His tone was laced with venom, enough to make the tears spring up in Y/N’s eyes again.

She knew prison would chip away at the Spencer she’d fallen in love with five years ago but she never expected things to go down like this. She’d done everything she could’ve thought of. She always made him some of his favorite dishes, she’d read to him, she’d hold him when he sobbed in her arms and relived the most traumatic experience he’d went through thus far. It was never enough.

He was different now. Irritable, temperamental, and he had a hard time composing his anger, not to mention that his once beautiful honey colored irises were dull, almost lifeless. He lost himself in prison, he wasn’t ever going to be the same. Instead of always greeting her with a hug and a smile after his days at the BAU or after cases, she was greeted to him starting to distance himself from her. It went from him coming home an hour late, to two hours, then three. She stopped making dinner, she stopped staying up to wait for him, she even stopped trying to reach out to him.

There was guilt, her brain rattled with so many what-ifs. If she left him alone more, would he have stayed with her? Would he have given her the same amount of love and dedication he’d once given her before? What could she have done to make him slowly begin to push her away, to serve her with fucking divorce papers?

Her tears stained the documents, her signature blurred out from how much she sobbed over the idea of losing the one real thing she’d ever known. No matter how much she wanted to hate him for his decision, she just couldn’t. Spencer had her heart, he took it with him out of the door when he left her, tucked away in his suitcase covered by the numerous suits and other necessities.

She was pulled out of her pain filled memories the moment she heard yet another knock. Was this a cruel joke? She was taking in a breath, collecting what little confidence she could manage to build up before she was unlocking the front door, her hand shaking from fear. As she was opening the door just enough to peak her head out, her lips were pursed in a fine line.

“Spencer.” Y/N spoke, her gaze firm on the man who had given up on her. “Hi, Y/N.” His voice was soft, a stark contrast to the tone of their last conversation. “Can I come in..?” He asked, though his hand was slowly resting against the front door as he pushed it open, Y/N taking a few steps back to grant him access. She should’ve slammed the door shut, she should’ve locked it and sent him on his way. Yet here she was, slowly closing the door as she invited him to make himself at home.

“What are you doing here?” It took a lot of courage for her to open her mouth, her arms slowly crossing over her chest. She wasn’t going to cry anymore, mainly because she was so tired of crying over him. She’d done it enough within the past few years, if anything, she should’ve been out of tears.

“I’m here to talk.”

“Talk about what?”

“Y/N. I haven’t been honest with you. Guilt has been eating away at me and I can’t help but feel shitty.”

You should.

She’d never say it out loud but judging by the face she made, Spencer already knew what went through her mind.

“I just want to apologize. You are owed that much. Whenever I got out of prison.. I was a different person entirely. I stopped putting much effort into any of my personal relationships..” He began, which before his ex wife could cut him off, he was looking up from his feet with glassy eyes. “It’s because I was getting comfort from.. Other influences. Dilaudid.”

Spencer’s last addictions never defined him throughout their entire relationship, in fact, she was proud of him. He’d been doing so good, the temptation coming up every now and then but she’d be there to push him, to give him so much love and support to try and curb the relapse that could occur.

“Drugs change the writing of neurotransmitters in your brain, which can lead to aggression or mood swings. That’s why I was always hostile towards you and why I didn’t want to be around you.” Spencer explained, eyes on the ground in shame while his hands were coming up to rest over his face. “I knew I had a problem, I did. There was one day when you were trying to get me to eat lunch and.. I wanted to hurt you.” His voice broke at the admission, unable to meet her gaze. “That made me realize that I had a problem. A problem that I couldn’t control. If I couldn’t control my emotions, I would get to the point where I couldn’t control my actions..”

Just the thought of that scared the hell out of him.

“I left because I didn’t want to hurt you. It would kill me if I ever did anything to you. I mean, I was already spiralling because of the vivid nightmares from prison. PTSD and drug use are a horrible combination, dangerous. I couldn’t risk hurting you.”

The explanation had hot Y/N like a ton of bricks. How could she not notice he had a relapse, she was supposed to be by his side and she couldn’t even fucking tell that he was struggling with impulse control as well as his emotions. “Why didn’t you tell me? Spencer, I could’ve helped you.” She whispered, stepping closer to her ex husband while slowly taking her hands in his.

“Because you didn’t deserve a damaged husband who would weigh you down. I can’t expect you to babysit me all day and night, it wouldn’t be fair to you. You have a career, you have friends, you have so much going for you. I wouldn’t have forgiven myself if you threw your life away to essentially take care of me.” His words were barely above a whisper, as if the two had a risk of anyone listening in on their conversation.

“You are not damaged.” Y/N scolded softly while she was squeezing his hands slowly. “Spencer, I love you so much, I’ll always be here for you. Wife or not.” She said softly while her hand was now coming to rest gently against his cheek, as if he were fragile and one wrong move would shatter him like a stained glass window.

Spencer was finally meeting the irises that he couldn’t ever get out of his mind, the way there was a shine in them. Eyes were the window to the soul and hers reflected a beautiful, colorful soul and a strong fighting spirit she always carried with her. Even when she was broken down, that shine was there.

Her love was radiating onto him at the smallest touch, the man’s eyes closing briefly as if to compose himself. “I love you so much, Y/N. I will never be able to forgive myself for the way I pushed you away, the way I ended our marriage. I should’ve confided in you sooner. I just.. I was worried about you.” His words were genuine, a gentle smile spreading across his face. “You have no idea how much I’ve missed you.” He whispered soon after.

If his pupils could be the shape of hearts, they would be. One thing about Y/N was that he adored her. He cherished her, took care of her. Even in the end when things went south, part of him still had that love that was locked away behind a crippling addiction that broke him down in the worst way possible. “When I wanted to just go back to using, I thought of you. How proud you’d be of me if I held off, how you’d tell me I did an amazing job getting back on track. You are my inspiration.” He whispered, his hands coming up to cup her cheeks, holding her face in his hands as his thumbs traced over her soft skin.

There was a soft smile gracing Y/N’s features. “I am so proud of you. It takes a lot to admit when you have a problem, it takes even more to better yourself. Even if I’m not fond of the way you went about it, I understand.” She was honest. She didn’t like how he had to divorce her and disappear from her life. Nobody in their right mind would be okay with that.

For the first time since he’d came inside, there was a content silence filling the living room. It was comfortable. For the first time, home felt like home. However as the both of them stayed within each other’s embrace, it wasn’t long before Spencer was leaning down to kiss her.

Their lips met in a bittersweet collision, as years of longing and unresolved emotions surged through their bodies. The kiss began tenderly, a delicate exploration of familiar territory, before gradually intensifying with the fiery passion that had once defined their relationship. In that moment, they momentarily forgot the pain that had driven them apart, reveling in the sheer magnetism that still bound them together. There was no more pain, no more wondering what had gone wrong.

Their tongues danced in a rhythm only they could understand, tasting the remnants of past love and the promise of a future reignited. As they reluctantly pulled away, their gaze locked, and they both knew that their love still burned strong, an everlasting flame that kept them bound together. After all they’d been through, the love and care was permanent.

While drawing in a breath, Y/N kept her gaze on Spencer before slowly running her hands up his chest. It wasn’t a suit tailored for him like she’d been so used to before, instead a casual cotton shirt. In a way, it was comforting. He thought about her at times where he wasn’t chasing evil men and women on cases, when instead he was home at.. Well, wherever he lived now.

“Do you want to stay tonight?” She asked after a moment, her words coming out slow and her tone delicate, as if she had to worry about scaring him off if she was anything but. “I always sleep so much better with you..” She added on soon after while playing with a loose thread on the shirt, almost as if she had to distract herself from the way her heart was nearly beating out of her chest.

It gave her flashbacks to when she and Spencer had first started dating, the both of them being soft with each other. The way that they’d both be nervous to ask the other to stay the night or when they’d be laying together and spoil each other in the wonders of intimate touch, their lips moving in sync.

That seemed so long ago now.

“Yes,” Spencer responded, not needing to spare a second thought. “I’d love to.” His own heart was racing, the feeling of being home slowly coming back to him. The comfort of Y/N being home, willing to hold him when he needed her. Tonight, he knew he needed her. In more ways than one.

Without a passing thought, the woman was being lifted into his arms while Spencer was reattaching their lips. There was love and need, yearning for the soft touch that they once shared. With the feeling of fingers tangling in his longer hair, he was almost running back to the bedroom that he’d remembered so well.

Without breaking the contact of their lips, Spencer was leaning down while carefully placing Y/N on her back, as if she was breakable. She needed to be handled with care, with appreciation. Not anyone would accept their ex husband despite his faults or listen to him when he’s explaining why he left. Most women would probably slam the door in his face. Not Y/N. Not the woman with a heart of gold. He didn’t deserve her love but she was willing to continue serving it to him.

Once she was on her back, Spencer was slowly pulling away. “I love you.” He whispered, the words just falling out of his mouth, reverting back to the ways that once were. The nights where they’d lay in the darkness, embracing one another during lazy post-coital conversations before falling asleep in those same positions.

“I love you so much.” He repeated as he felt like she needed to know his feelings never changed. His lips began to trail down her neck, his hands running down the silk nightgown. “I love you.” Y/N finally whispered in return, her head relaxing in her pillow while her eyes were fluttered shut, melting at each placed kiss.

Spencer let his teeth graze the now burning skin of her neck, eliciting a beautiful moan to fall from the woman’s lips.

This was heaven.

His lips were moving from her neck soon after that, his head lifting while the two were interlocking in a shared loving gaze. “You can keep going, you know.” She whispered, a little giggle leaving her lips at the way his eyes glistened in the soft lighting of the bedside lamp at her urging him to continue.

Spencer’s fingers were coming up to the flimsy straps of the nightgown, slowly pulling them from her arms while leaning down to trail kisses along her right shoulder. His hands were working to slowly tug the sleep garment off, almost as if he had to carefully unwrap a present to preserve the wrapping paper. He didn’t want to rush this. He wanted her to see how much he truly did love and miss her.

He’d take care of her tonight.

Once she lifted her hips to assist in discarding the nightgown, he was drinking in the sight of the near bare woman in front of him.

Spencer had eidetic memory, however, when it came to Y/N’s body, you’d think it was his first time seeing it. The way his cheeks would flush, the way he’d revert back to being the shy man who couldn’t help but stare as if she were a beautiful oil painting hanging in one of the highest esteemed art galleries in Paris, France.

He was now sitting between her open legs, eyes scanning over her body as his large hands were slowly running up her inner thighs. “I’ve missed you, so much.” He spoke, gaze now moving to the beautiful smile that was spreading across her face. “I’m glad you’re here.” She spoke softly, the two basking in the moment. There was no rush, no. Instead, they were enjoying the intimacy of soft touches, admiring bodies, sharing longing glances.

“May I?” He asked, fingers now getting dangerously close to the place where she needed him most.

“Of course.” Her head nodded, a blush on her face.

The panties she had on had a sizeable wet patch in the center of them, her body reacting so positively to his kisses, his touch, everything. His fingers were slowly running over her clothed cunt, electricity shooting through her body at the mere touch.

“My beautiful girl.” His voice was husky now, fingers looping in the waistband of her panties before he was tugging them down her thighs, a groan ripping from his throat once he could see her glistening pussy, sticky with arousal. “God, I love you.” He repeated for what felt like the millionth time in the night.

Spencer was getting up momentarily, pulling his shirt over his head before discarding his pants as well, leaving him in his boxers. As he’d gotten onto the bed, he was now laying between her thighs, hips pressed into the bed for when he ultimately needed relief of his own.

With one hand keeping her plush thighs apart, his tongue was now licking a stripe up her pussy, collecting just a taste of her arousal. Hearing her shaky breath from above him was enough to encourage his movements. After a few more long and teasing licks, his fingers were coming up to spread her puffy labia apart, his lips blowing cool air while the woman was mewling from pleasure, goosebumps spreading across her skin.

He ate like a man starved, his tongue lapping up all she had to offer to him, like eating one of the ripest fruits on the vine that was bursting with more flavor and sweetness after being freshly pulled from the tree branch. His chin was coated in her glistening juices, his nose brushing against her clit while his tongue was focused on swiping over her velvety walls.

With the sounds of pornographic moans filling the room along with the way her fingernails were digging in his scalp, it became to a point where Spencer was desperate for relief, his hips rocking against the mattress while he was focused on bringing the woman to her peak. As soon as he could feel her thighs begin to shake and her words were more incoherent, he knew what was to come next.

It wasn’t long though until he was pulling away, chuckling at the way she was desperately clenching around nothing as soon as he pulled away. “Hold on, pretty girl.” He purred, getting his fingers lubed up with his own spit before he was plunging them into the woman, a low moan leaving his lips as she was greedily clenching around his digits and pulling them in more.

“There we go.” He praised, the two fingers being thrusted inside of her needy core.

“I’m gonna— oh fuck, Spencer.” Y/N breathed out as her eyes were squeezing shut, her words encouraging him to fuck her faster with his fingers. She could feel the coil tightening in her stomach, her moans and whimpers of his name falling steadily from her lips.

All it took was him curling his fingers and pushing against her spongy sweet spot before she was cumming around his fingers, her hips rocking steadily against Spencer’s hand as she was doing her best to catch her breath, chest rising and falling rapidly.

As she’s ridden out the high, Spencer’s hair was being tugged in a gesture that was telling him move your ass, Reid.

So he was nearly stumbling to crawl up to hover over her again, the two attaching their lips in a much needed, more messy kiss than before. “Please,” She mumbled against his lips, making Spencer pull away. “Please what?” He asked, needing to hear her say it.

“I need you.”

Those words had his already hard cock aching in his boxers, making him stumble a bit just to get them down his legs before they were being tossed with the rest of the clothes in the bedroom.

“I don’t have a condom.” Spencer spoke, letting out a hiss of pleasure from the feeling of her hand wrapping around his cock to give it a few tugs. “We don’t need one. I don’t care right now.” Her voice came out in a desperate tone, making the man nod as he was letting her line up his tip with her leaking mound.

He was pushing into her slowly, sinking all the way to the hilt while the two let out a collective moan, Spencer’s head falling against Y/N’s shoulder as he let his eyes flutter shut, kisses being sponged to her shoulders as he gave her a minute. The way her hands were gripping onto him was a big indicator that just like himself, she’d probably not really gotten much action in a while.

“I’m ready.” She whispered, her arms wrapping around his shoulders as she was practically hugging him close. “I’ll go slow.” He spoke in return, now lifting his head to smear their lips against one another’s.

Spencer loved slow and intimate sex, the way they were pressed flush against one another, drinking each others moans while the world slowly stood still. His hips were thrusting at a steady pace, the feeling of her legs wrapping around his waist just to try and bury him impossibly deeper inside of her.

It was the ultimate form of love. Being able to savor one another, enjoy the closeness. There were times in the past where the two would talk and even giggle with one another while his cock was buried inside of her. It was comforting in its own odd way.

Tonight though, there wasn’t much talking. Instead there was soft, loving kisses, the mixture of moans and groans falling between the both of them, as well as the sound of the bed squeaking along with each thrust that the man made.

There was nothing but love in that bedroom, the two whispering sweet nothings to one another and making promises that would fully be fulfilled going forward. This was going to be the start of something beautiful, that was something the two were confident of.

“I’m close,” Spencer’s words were being muffled into Y/N’s mouth, the woman slowly pulling out of their shared kiss while she was bringing her hands up to cup his cheeks. “Me too, don’t stop.” Her words were soft, a moan leaving her lips as she was letting her eyes flutter shut, head falling back against the mattress as she could feel her stomach tightening again.

“I love you so much, Y/N. Fuck.” His words slurring together as he brought one hand between their bodies, his thumb swiping over her clit in order to have her cum first. He prided himself on pleasuring her first and foremost, himself being mostly an afterthought.

As the warmth of her orgasm was washing over her, Y/N was hugging him as close as she could get him while a soft cry of the male’s name slipped from her lips. Chasing her orgasm, it wasn’t long until Spencer was letting go, a few more thrusts doing the trick as his warm cum was filling her to the brim. The feeling had the woman shuddering in pleasure.

With a thin layer of sweat coating their skin and their bodies still intertwined, Spencer was turning his attention down to the woman who he felt an intense and burning love for. “I promise you that I am not going anywhere this time. I’m tired of fighting M on my own.” His words were soft, his breathing still uneven. “I love you and I never want to be away from you like that again..”

“I love you so much more. You know that I’m always here for you, right? No matter what you’re struggling with. We are supposed to always be by each other’s sides. I made that promise to you and I never intend on breaking it.” Y/N assured.

“How about we to get cleaned up?” The make suggested, forcing himself to move away from the warmth of her embrace briefly. Instead of letting her get up though, Spencer’s hand was wrapping around her ankle before he was playfully pulling her to the end of the bed, making the woman laugh as she was being lifted in his arms.

“You could’ve broke my leg!” She gasped, a teasing tone chasing the words as she was letting her arms wrap around his shoulders, lips pressing kisses across his face.

A she was carefully sitting her on the edge of the tub, Spencer was turning on the faucet. After he’d gotten the water warm enough for the both of them, he’d retrieved the plug for the drain. Approaching the bathroom cabinet, he was kneeling down and rummaging until he was grinning triumphantly as he was retrieving a bottle of bubble bath soap, holding it up. “I knew you’d never get rid of this. As dumb as it sounds, I was so pissed because I didn’t take this with me.”

After putting a generous amount of the soap in the tub and watching it foam up, he was waiting until the tub was filled to their liking until he was turning off the water. He was the first to step in, getting comfortable before holding his hand out to help Y/N get in, a smile on his face. Even if it was a little awkward considering he was a tall guy in a small tub, they managed to get comfortable together with her on his lap.

One of her hands was collecting a bit of bubbles from the water before she was moving to place them over his face, a little laugh leaving her lips as she’d given him a bit of a bubble beard. “How old are we?” Spencer asked teasingly as he was doing the same thing with her, the two unable to help the soft laugh filling the bathroom.

“So, I have a legitimate question,” Spencer began while leaning back against the tub, a smile on his face. “Does this mean we have to get married again?”

The question made Y/N pull a face as she was pondering over the question. He had a point. How did this work?

“I say yes. Only because I think you owe me a much bigger wedding this time.” She joked, making the male laugh.

“My queen gets whatever she wants.”

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid fic #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fandom #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid angst #criminal minds fic #criminal minds angst #spencer reid smut

[svechnikovvv]

adore you

pairing: jack hughes x fem!reader

warnings: profanity

summary: jack has it down bad for you and you can’t seem to see that

a/n: sorry it’s taken me so long to publish this & for the sake of the fic, your fictionally older brother’s name is ryan

series masterlist: here

i get so lost inside your eyes / i’d walk through fire for you / lately you’ve been on my mind

it started when you & jack were both six.

***

you were in your front yard with your older brother and the two of you were playing hide and seek and it was his turn to count. you had the genius idea to hide in a tree because, why not? however, what you didn’t think about was how you’d get down.

“ready or not, here i come!” you hear ryan shout from the front porch. about five minutes pass and you think he won’t find you until you hear his voice.

“i see you y/n!” you look down below you and low and behold, your brother’s standing there with a shit-eating grin on his face.

“i don’t like you at all.” you pout and he laughs

“come on, it’s your turn to count.” you sigh dramatically and try your best to climb back down the tree. however, that plan seems to fail, and you fall out the tree onto your arm. a sharp pain shoots through your wrist and it has you immediately crying. ryan runs inside to go get your dad as you sit on the grass holding your hurting wrist.

a hand then outstretches itself to you and you look up and see a brunette boy smiling at you. he has one of his front teeth missing. you give him your hand that’s not hurting and he helps you up.

“what’s your name?” you sniffle and his smile grows

“i’m jack. i just moved in next door.” jack thought you were the prettiest girl his little six year old eyes had ever laid themselves on. and you, of course, thought boys still carried cooties.

“y/n, sweetheart, let’s get you to a hospital.” both you and jack look at your dad coming outside with ryan behind him.

“ill see you later. i hope your wrist is okay.” jack says his goodbyes and you, your brother, and dad head to the hospital.

the three of you got home late that night and sure enough, you broke your wrist. you had to get a cast later that week and it was very difficult to try and figure out how to go about your day with it on.

a knock sounds through your house and your dad answers it.

“y/n, there’s someone here for you!” you get off the couch where you were watching cartoons and head over to the door and see jack standing there with a bag of sharpies.

“i came to sign your cast,” he smiles and you look down at the white, barren cast with no signatures and you hold out your wrist to him. jack scrawls his name in big letters on your cast with a little doodle off hockey stick next to it, and your dad watches the small interaction with a smile on his face.

“jack, why don’t you tell your parents that they should come over tonight for dinner.” jack looks up at the sound of your father’s voice and nods, taking his bag of sharpies and heading back home.

this was the start to an amazing friendship.

***

ever since that day, jack and you have been inseparable. you two were like siamese twins. wherever one went, the other wasn’t far behind. he stuck with you throughout the awkwardness in middle school, which was peak jack & y/n.

the big question: did you ever see him as anything more than a best friend? not really. but jack? he was head over heels for you, and it only got worse in highschool.

jack knew it was stupid to have a crush on his best friend for this long, but look at you. you were his dream girl. he swore to himself that he would wait as long as he had to for you.

you were so supportive of his hockey career and came to every game you could attend. you would also support his brothers and he loved how you bonded with them like they were your own. you remembered everything he told you and you always threw him the best surprise parties for his birthday. you got along with his friends, and to be honest, they thought the two of you were a thing to begin with.

but a bonus? seeing you sport his jersey at every single hockey game. there was nothing more rewarding than seeing you cheering for him in the stands with that familiar hughes jersey. to top it off, you’d always wait for him after every game to give him his post-game hug.

“sweaty or not, hughes, i need my post-game hug.” was your go-to line and jack would be lying if he said he didn’t have it memorized. like the way he memorized how your eyes lit up when he’d come out the locker room. or the way your nose would scrunch up when he’d get his sweat on you. jack noticed everything about you.

fast forward to his draft day. you wet right by his side and you could sense the nerves radiating off of him. with quinn in the league, he felt like he had a lot to live up to. but when they called his name for the first overall pick, that all flew out the window.

***

both you and jack looked at each other with shocked faces and you both stood up, embracing the other in a hug. you weren’t even the one being drafted, but the moment still felt so surreal to you. the ringing in your ears had become louder and it felt like only you and jack were in the room.

you pull apart from the hug and place both hands on jack’s shoulders. tears were streaming down your face and you were wearing the biggest smile. jack swore that in that moment, nobody was more beautiful than you. his y/n. and that’s when reality set in with him. the girl he’s lived next to for most of his life, he’s be leaving soon. he wouldn’t get to see you every day. he wouldn’t get to take just a couple steps next to his house and already be at yours. no, you guys would be miles apart now.

he broke out of his thoughts and shoved them down, focusing on the present.

“i’m so proud of you, j.” he swiped the tears away from under your eyes and pressed a kiss to your forehead. he then gave the rest of his family hugs and walked to the stage to receive his devils’ jersey. the whole time he had his eyes focused on you. the fluorescent lighting above lit up your face just enough to make you look ethereal in his eyes, even more than you already did.

***

jack will say, his rookie year was tough. and even more so because he didn’t have you by his side at all. you were at boston, the school you’ve dreamed of going to and he couldn’t be more proud of you.

***

you had the hughes clan plus your dad and brother with you in your living room as you propped up your ipad and dialed jack, and on the second ring, he picked up.

“hey gorgeous.” he smiled from the other side

“woah j, your hair’s growing out.” you paused “please don’t say you’re getting a mullet.” everyone laughed and shook his head

“not these luscious locks. who’s with you?” you maneuver the ipad to show everyone with you and he says hi to everyone and they catch up for a bit before ellen nudges you.

“right.” you cough a bit and jack’s attention falls onto you and you hold up an envelope from boston university.

“is that?” you nod

“the answers lie in this envelope and i’m shaking so bad right now because oh my god jack, what if i don’t get in?” your rambling was always one of his favorite things about you.

“hey, whatever happens, happens. just know, it’ll all be okay, alright? you’re a smart girl, so boston would be stupid not to accept you.” you take a deep breath in and nod. ellen places a hand on your shoulder reassuringly.

“okay, here goes nothing.” you carefully tear open the envelope and pull out a piece of paper folded up into threes. you look back at jack and he nods encouragingly. you unfold the paper and begin to read it.

accepted

you drop the paper and look at jack, tears welling into your eyes.

“well?” he asks eagerly

“i got accepted!” you start to cry and jack’s smile widens.

“oh my god!” ellen’s the first to pull you into a hug and jack wishes nothing more than to be there right now, holding you in his arms.

“awh, jack’s crying.” luke says, and you pull away from the hug to look at the ipad in front of you. you sit back down and wipe at your eyes, softly smiling.

“don’t let your mascara run over me, j.” he laughs and looks up, then looking back at you.

“i’m so so proud and happy for you, y/n/n. more than you know.”

***

ever since college started for you though, communication hasn’t been the best between the two of you. you’ve both been so busy with your own things, and when you do talk, it’s not for very long.

however, when jack gets an invitation in the mail that says, “you’re invited to y/n l/n’s graduation!” he cancels anything he had planned on that date and he makes it his priority to be there.

***

jack wore one of his game day suits since the red would go well with the school colors and he makes the long drive to boston. he sees his mom’s familiar car and parks near it, getting out and making his way to look for his family and yours. once he spots them, due to luke’s tall head, he makes his way over.

“jack!” his mom is the first one to give him a hug and he smiles, hugging her back.

“hey ma, i missed you.”

“oh i missed you too sweetheart.” they pull apart and he says more hellos to the rest of his family, then taking his spot beside your brother. soon, the ceremony begins and when your name is called, everyone erupts into cheer. jack’s smile could not possibly get bigger than it is right now. you did it. you finally did it.

once everyone was called, the graduates were allowed to go to their families. you stood on a chair to look for the hughes’ and your dad and brother when you suddenly feel two arms wrap around your waist, twirling you around. you’re laughing and they set you down and you’re face-to-face with jack. you didn’t know if he’d be able to make it or not. and when did he get so muscly?

“oh my god. jack!” you jump into his arms and he laughs, holding you up. “you’re here. you’re really here.” you whisper and he places a kiss to the side of your head.

“i wouldn’t miss your graduation even if i was on my death bed. nothing is more important than watching you walk across that stage.” you sniffle and oh how you missed your best friend.

“i did it, j.”

“and i’m so proud of you, you hear me?” he sets you back down and pulls apart to look at you.

“i thought i was the only one that looks good in red, but i’m starting to think you proved me wrong.” you laugh and the sound is so melodic to jack’s ears. he needed to tell you how he felt soon, because seeing you right now is making his heart have palpitations.

***

since your graduation, you’ve moved to jersey and you teach first grade at one of the local elementary schools. jack was ecstatic when you told him you were moving to jersey. he even convinced you to buy a place near him. he even introduced you to his teammates. they all loved you, of course, and jack was glad to see you getting along with them.

he even bought you a hughes jersey and a ticket to the devil’s home opener. it was one thing to watch him play on your tv, but in person on the ice? even better.

that soon became a routine: go to every devil’s home game that you could and of course take pictures for your students to see.

fast forward to today. it was raining nonstop today and you had to have indoor recess for the kids, so you’d been stuck with them longer than usual, and you were starting to develop a headache. the odds just weren’t in your favor today.

as you were driving home, your tire went flat so you were stuck in the rain on the side of the road. so you call the only person you could think of.

“j, can you come pick me up? my tire went flat on the side of the road.”

in ten minutes, jack’s pulling up near your car and you get out and make your way to his passenger side. the car is a lot warmer compared to the outside temperature and you turn on your seat-warmer to hopefully help you a bit. in no time, he’s pulling up to your house and you get out without saying a word to him. you were tired and needed a nap and an advil.

“hey, what’s wrong?” he grabs your wrist before you can get inside and you shake your head. his headlights were beaming on the two of you and they were making your head hurt even more. the cold rain was also pelting down on the two of you and you hated the feeling of wet clothes.

“nothing. i’ve just had an awful day.” you release your wrist from his hold and walk up your front steps, putting the key in the door.

“i’m always here to listen, you know?”

“yes, jack, i know. but my head is killing me so i need to go lay down and get out of these wet clothes.”

“why won’t you talk to me? you used to tell me everything.” this set you over the edge and you turned around.

“jackson hughes, we’re grown adults now. we’re not the kids we used to be.”

“okay, but i’m your best friend.” you let out a frustrated sigh because you could not believe he was doing this right now.

“just go home, okay? we can talk about it tomorrow.”

“don’t you see it?” he says weakly

“quite frankly, i can’t see anything. there’s rain on my glasses. but enlighten me as to why you have me standing here in the pouring rain confused, rowden.” you used his middle name. you hardly ever did that.

“i’m in love with you, y/n! how blind are you? i’ve been so in love with you since the day you fell out your tree years ago when we were six. you’re all i think about before i go to sleep and when i wake up. and it’s been so hard to be your best friend all these years when all i want is nothing more than to be your boyfriend. lately you’ve been on my mind more than usual and when you- god, when you look at me with those eyes.

“i get lost. i forget where i’m at and i want to bask in that feeling forever. the feeling of just your eyes on me. like my draft day back in 2019 when it felt like we were the only two in the room. you’re the only person i’ve ever considered seeing myself with.”

you were rendered speechless. you cant lie and say that the thought of dating jack hadn’t crossed your mind before, because it has. it’s like the stars aligned because next thing you know, your feet are carrying you to jack and you attach your lips to his. he’s quick to reciprocate and you feel those metaphorical fireworks go off.

the two of you pull away and jack’s smiling wide.

“does this mean-” you cut him off and hit his shoulder, making him laugh.

“yes. now turn your car off and come inside where it’s warm.” he nods and you head inside, making your way to your bathroom to grab towels for the both of you.

“leave your shoes by the door!” you call out from your bedroom and jack makes his way to you, and you stick out some dry clothes to him.

“you can use the guest shower.” he nods and the two of you take your showers to better clean yourselves and change into the dry clothes.

later that night, you’re cuddled up on the couch together, going through a keepsake box you had (which was an old shoe box). you then pull out a card and both jack and you give each other a confused look. you open the card and gasp when you do. jack had a look of remembrance on his face as well and your heart melts at the memory.

***

you loved valentine’s day because it meant free candy and what seven year old doesn’t like free candy? the teacher let the girls pass out their valentines to the class first, and then the boys did theirs.

you were sitting at your desk, coloring away at a valentine’s day coloring sheet the teacher printed out for everyone, when a teddy bear, a card and some candy is placed in front of you. you set your fuchsia crayon down and look up to see jack standing there, face reddening.

“happy valentine’s day y/n.” he gave you his one-missing-tooth smile and you smiled back at him.

“thank you jack. i love it!”

***

“i should’ve seen the signs back then.” you trace your finger over jack’s first grade handwriting and softly smile, setting the card back in the box.

“whatever happened to that bear i got you?” you get up and walk into your bedroom, coming back out with the small, stuffed bear. jack gasps and you fondly smile at him.

“i couldn’t get rid of rowdy.”

“rowdy?” he quirks a brow at you and you nod

“named him after my favorite person ever.” jack pulls you into his side and kisses the side of your head.

he adored you more than anything in this world.

tags: @goldenbrokenheart @liquidflyer @alhanna05 @woodruff-edwards @i-padfootblack-things @fanboysfangirl @hughesx3 @austinbutlerscaresme @theywantedplayer @jackhues @marauderzkinnie @jackhughesily @babydollmarauders @akengii @bordeleaubeau @tomhollandsbabymama @starsandhughes @nowandkei @angzls @jhughesl0v3r

a/n: GAH, having mixed emotions about this

#jack hughes x reader #jack hughes #nhl hockey #nhl #new jersey devils #fine line series!

[mcflymemes]

PROMPTS FOR BEST FRIENDS FOREVER *  adjust as necessary, send 'reverse' for the reversal action prompts

DIALOGUE PROMPTS

i never want to know a life without you.

you're a great friend to me.

you mean a lot to me. i hope you know that.

what would i do without you?

don't make me sit on you.

we have too many inside jokes.

i really missed you.

i'm here for you, no matter what.

you can count on me.

wanna hear a dad joke?

you left this at my house.

whatever you need, i'll do it.

that's what best friends are for.

we're friends, right? friends look out for each other.

they thought we were siblings! honestly, i don't blame them.

i really need a friend right now.

could you please come over?

stop making me laugh!

i wouldn't be able to survive this without you.

you can lean on me. i'll be there for you.

i won't just abandon you.

we've been friends for years.

why don't you come over tonight?

let's get a bite to eat. i'm starving.

last one there's a rotten egg!

i call shotgun!

move over! i'm coming in!

you know... you're my best friend.

i trust you more than anyone else.

do you pinky promise?

if you don't stop, i'll tickle you.

i'll bring the snacks!

let's sit at our favorite table.

i've known you since i was five!

they literally can't separate us.

i don't think they've ever seen us apart.

will you be at my wedding?

let's do this together.

of course i remember our handshake.

i don't know how to function if you're not there.

you're the best friend anyone could ever ask for.

do you remember how we met?

stop messing up my hair!

honey, i'm home!

this is basically your house, too.

i really need your help.

i'll be a shoulder to cry on.

if anyone hurts you, they have to answer to me.

you have to carry on without me.

we can do this.

you're the only person who ever really believed in me.

ACTION PROMPTS

[ handshake ] sender and receiver perform their signature best friend handshake

[ pinky ] sender makes receiver pinky promise

[ steal ] sender steals a piece of clothing (like a hat) from receiver and puts it on

[ cheers ] sender and receiver lift their drink glasses in a celebratory toast

[ game ] sender challenges receiver to a board game

[ laughing fit ] sender and receiver end up in a hysterical laughing fit at a joke the sender made

[ keep away ] sender steals an item from receiver and plays keep away with them, holding it too far from their reach

[ splash ] while swimming together, sender splashes receiver

[ club ] sender and receiver go bar-hopping

[ movie night ] sender and receiver have a movie night complete with snacks, blankets, and lots of pillows

[ console ] sender is deeply distraught, so receiver comforts them

[ cuddle ] sender and receiver cuddle

[ sleep ] sender and receiver fall asleep together

[ toss ] sender keeps tossing items at receiver to get their attention

[ reach ] sender is about to fall to their death, and receiver reaches just in time to catch their hand and save them

[ tent ] sender and receiver attempt to pitch a tent together

[ rescue ] in a dramatic turn of events, receiver shows up in the nick of time to save sender's life

[ costume ] sender and receiver wear matching costumes to an event

[ pillow ] sender and receiver have a pillow fight

[ hobby ] sender and receiver enjoy their favorite hobby together

[ piggyback ] sender gives receiver a piggyback ride

[ treehouse ] sender and receiver hang out in a treehouse

[ notes ] sender and receiver pass secret notes to each other

[ fast food ] sender and receiver visit a fast food restaurant to grab a bite to eat

[ risk ] sender puts their life on the line to protect receiver

#rp meme #rp starters #rp memes #rp prompt #rp musings #roleplay inbox prompts #roleplay memes #roleplay prompt #roleplay meme #writing prompt #askbox meme #ask memes #rp asks #ask meme #inbox prompts #inbox prompt #rp inbox meme #inbox meme #sentence starter #sentence starter prompt #sentence starters #mcflymemes #best friend memes #friend memes #friend prompts #mine

[lee-writes-things]

but like imagine this, if there were deaths in a third soc book:

wylan would die first (from an explosion, oit of irony) because we can all agree he's like a son to kaz, and it would be devastating. so then kaz has all this pent-up emotion. and jesper's unhinged gambling addiction gets worse, which gets kaz even more worried. because he's like a brother to kaz. and he does something reckless on this job, which therefore gets him severely injured, and he dies in inej's arms. and that leads to inej trying to help jesper cope while also suffering internally herself.

when news reaches nina in ravka, she thinks that kaz forged inej's signature at the end of the letter as a cruel joke. she went along with it anyway since she missed when the crows were all together. nina brought a few traditional ravkan treats that she knew kaz liked no matter how much he denied it. when she arrived at the slat, it was empty. nina went to the crow club and found inej with a far away look. she gave up on trying to help jesper with his addiction. im too lazy to be in writing mode, so im gonna half-ass the rest. anyway, nina had to snap inej out of her daze and ask her where kaz was. that's when inej finally broke down, and any word she muttered was incoherent. after what felt like ages, jesper went over to the two girls and told nina what happened. "the ol' dirtyhands finally kicked the bucket. thought he was immortal for a while. wylan went just before him."

there was nothing else but sobs that day and screaming out to the sky why everything that happened happened. bit over a week later, there was a joint service. inej engraved two slabs for the two out of wood with the first knife kaz gifted to her. she renamed it. sankt rietveld. and that's how she got assigned a new job. revenge. with a gloved hand holding her knife. (shitty ending, not enough detail, but here you go)

before, there were six of crows. then five. now only three.

i originally shared this with a server im in and, therefore, was banished to hellgate by my friends for making them all cry. oops. anyway, fuck you guys [affectionately but not really].

#soc #six of crows #soc angst #six of crows angst #angst #nina zenik #matthias helvar #kaz brekker #inej ghafa #wylan van eck #jesper fahey #blurb ig #kanej #kanej angst #angst fic #helnik #wesper #wylan van sunshine #wylan and jesper #jesper and wylan #inej and kaz #kaz and inej #sad fic #six of crows fic #six of crows fanfic

[cassiefromhell]

Unexpected (pt. 6)

Part One Part Five

Fanbase: acotar

Eris x Reader x Azriel

Summary: Eris, freshly mated to you and volatile as ever, has walked in on you and Azriel in a hostile position... what will he think? It's up to you to diffuse the situation.

Word Count: 5.1k

Warnings: fingering, dirty talk, suggestion of oral

A/N: Requests are OPEN! Check my pinned message for details on what I'll write <3 (anything from hc's to drabbles to fully blown fics! ever had a great fic idea but cant write? send em over!!). Thank you so, so much for the notes on this lil series! I read all comments and reblogs.

In the split seconds that follow Eris’s arrival, things go down far too quickly for me to comprehend well. 

As Eris’s expression turns to rage, Azriel realizes the gravity of the situation before I can even react. He releases me from his death grip, gently nudging me away from himself and backing up.

But he was too slow; Eris saw the hold he had me in, and he’s descending on Azriel.

I step forward — honestly, involuntarily, for I did not tell my body to put myself between two very opposing males — and Eris collides with me. “Eris, Eris, love, look at me. Look at me. I’m okay.”

Eris doesn’t even spare me a glance, but he does place a protective hand on my lower back, which means I have his attention. But his whole body is tense and ready to pounce at Azriel.

I continue to soothe him, rubbing circles on his chest. “I’m okay. We were just having a little fun with sparring. Nobody got hurt—”

“That was not sparring,” Eris hisses, eyes narrowing further. “I could hear you down the hall—you were asking him to let you go—”

“You act as if I had her in a chokehold,” Azriel adds, his voice coming from behind me. “She can hold her own — unlike you. I could kill you in an instant.”

His comment causes an immediate growl from Eris, and the red-haired male gently pushes me aside, and then lunges for Azriel.

The movement is too fast for me to react in time, and Eris knocks Azriel to the ground, sending the two sprawling across the floor.

Groaning, I pinch the bridge of my nose, one phrase on loop in my brain: Stupid, aggressive males. Stupid, aggressive males.

I let them brawl for around twenty seconds, wincing when Azriel lands a solid punch to Eris’s nose, but wincing harder when Eris swiftly kicks Azriel’s groin. The sharp cry of pain from that, quite literally, low blow makes me decide that enough is enough.

I stride over to them, then wait until Azriel is on top of their little rolling spree, knowing that he’s more likely to listen to me. When that happens, I speak, my voice demanding and echoing throughout the room. “Enough.”

That word in my signature ‘listen up buckaroo’ tone is enough to make both males pause and look over to me.

“I said, enough. Get off, Azriel, before I drag you by your scruff like a mangy dog — because that’s what you’re both acting like.”

Azriel, with his tail between his legs, gives Eris one last sharp glare before standing, shuffling away.

Eris is on his feet immediately, not looking quite ready to let him go.

“Eris!” I shout, stepping in front of him and grabbing his shoulders. “Look at me. Eris!”

It takes a moment, but he does relent, my first mate’s eyes shifting down to my own. 

“He’s hurting more than I am now. You’ve gotten your petty revenge. Now sit down, and listen,” I scold him, pushing on his shoulders.

Obediently, he sits on the ground. He knows my rage, and he’s learned that a happy mate keeps your life straight.

I whirl, putting my hands on my hips. Azriel is standing there, silent as ever, his shadows angrily swirling. His arms are crossed firmly over his chest, concealing his burnt—and likely now bloodied—hands. His attention is trained on Eris, seeming moderately amused that I have him on the floor like a scolded puppy.

“You too. Sit. Now.”

He too sits, but after more hesitation and a skeptical look towards me. The faint amusement on his features vanishes.

I stride to be standing directly between the two. “I will not tolerate any more anger-fed, impulsive, and frankly violent tendencies between you two. If you’re fighting for me, then do it better — I don’t know, buy me flowers or something. If you’re angry about our whole double-mate predicament, take it out on someone else. Yell at a council member, Eris. Spar with a particularly annoying Illyrian, Azriel. You know what? If you reaaaally need to get out the urge to punch each other’s teeth out, go ahead. But not in my presence. If that’s what you need, then you get a licensed sparring referee to watch you two and make sure no-one dies. But don’t go complaining to me.

“Eris,” I turn to face the male in question, flashing my teeth as I speak. “You will learn to accept that Azriel is also my mate. We’re bound to spend time together, and I understand that we’re freshly mated and you encountered us in an irregular position, but you need to leash your anger towards him.”

I hadn’t planned much of a lecture for Azriel, but a quiet, mocking “leash it, like your hounds” from behind me has me turning to face him once more.

“And Azriel,” I continue, raising my voice an octave. “You will behave. You will watch your mouth. You know better than to egg on a volatile, freshly mated male, especially in front of his female. Do you understand?”

Azriel bites his tongue like he’s refraining from insulting Eris one last time… but he nods.

“Eris. Do you understand?” I ask, crossing my arms.

The red headed male nods, more eagerly than Azriel had.

“Good. Now, both of you up.”

Equally obediently this time, they each rise. 

“Shake hands.”

Eris scowls, giving me a sidelong glance. “Love, you know how I feel about this. I will be civil, but—”

“Don’t make me force you to promise each other eternal pacifism and harmony.”

Eris immediately holds out his hand.

And, thank the Mother, Azriel shakes it.

“Good,” I sigh, running a hand down my face. “Eris, put away my harp. Azriel, I will visit Velaris in four days’ time. I expect you to be here to pick me up.”

Azriel blinks for a moment, then grins. “I’ll be there.”

Eris makes a pouty face, but I manage to brush it off for now. I’m not very good at resisting a clingy Eris, however, so I know that I need to take my leave.

I turn to the exit and leave, slamming the door shut behind me. I have to trust that those two will either talk it out or disperse on their own terms, because I am desperate to get out of the palace after the deadly combination of this encounter and so many days spent in our chambers. Not that I haven’t immensely enjoyed them.

But, honestly, my hips need a break.

An hour later, I sit high up in a tree, deep in the luscious forest surrounding the Autumn Court treehouse-style castle. 

My horse, a disagreeable andalusian mare with a stunning dapple gray coat, is tied to the trunk of a nearby tree. I’m sure she’s happily eating apples or picking the bark off of a stump.

I find these woods incredibly calming. The rustle of leaves, the crunching of pebbles under the hooves of animals — it creates a soothing atmosphere. 

Eris has graciously left me this time on my own. I’m sure he could sense through the bond how upset I was about all of the fighting — I have enough on my plate as it is. However, he won’t be able to stay away for much longer, not with being freshly mated and all.

Right on cue, a soft tugging comes from Eris’s end of the bond. I hesitate, but then match his little tug.

Not thirty seconds later, Eris winnows to a branch above me. First I feel his eyes on me, then hear a soft sigh, and then the shuffling of leaves as he climbs down to my level. He is wordless the whole time, slipping into my branch and sitting behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist. He tucks his head against my neck.

Equally silently, I reach back and stroke his hair.

We sit there, straddling this tree branch, for an incalculable period of time. It could have been two minutes, or two hours, I find myself genuinely unsure. 

Eris is the one to break the silence. “I’m sorry for causing you unneeded and unwarranted stress,” he mumbles against my skin. “I love you. So much. And I just want you safe… and happy. Even if that means that you accept Azriel, too.”

Sighing softly, I tilt my head to kiss his forehead. “I love you, too. And I know you do. I accept your apology wholeheartedly.”

He grins against my neck, gently biting my skin. “That’s good, because I wasn’t going to last the night without dragging you back to me by your hair.”

“By my hair?”

“Did I stutter?”

I laugh softly, gently taking his jaw in my hand. I tilt his head up to face me, then give him a long kiss.

Eris leans into it, pulling me closer. When we finally part, he murmurs against my cheek, “Four days, hm?”

“I came up with it on the spot… but yeah. Scores us four more days alone, and then I go to visit Azriel in an environment where you won’t be shooting him glares and scowls and rude little quips—”

“I was not the one making the rude little—”

“Eris.”

“Sorry, love.”

I turn to face him, my legs laying over his. We stare at each other for a very long time, before he smiles and kisses me softly. 

“You know, a lot can be done in four days,” he croons, rubbing my lower back, and then slipping his hand around to my front, over the seam of my trousers.

Whimpering, my head rests against his shoulder. “Eris… As much as I want it, my hips need a break,” I whine, though my body betrays me as heat pools under his touch.

“We don’t need to move your hips at all,” he soothes me, leaving gentle kisses along my neck as he palms me. “Let me take care of you, little flame.”

I open my mouth to, I don’t even know, object? But how could I say no to this, to the delicious sensation his hand is bringing me even through fabric? So instead, I nod, whimpering softly. “Please.”

With Eris and I temporarily gaining a break from the mating frenzy this morning, I had nearly forgotten the intense pull that builds in my abdomen now, the sharp need seeming to stem from my very soul, pulling me towards him — and dampening my underwear.

And so when his hand works its way into my trousers and breaches my folds, I breathe a heavy sigh of relief. Eris tugs me a little closer, so that our bodies are flush against each other, only his hand between us. His touch is gentle right now, thumb dancing circles around my clit and his pinky finger tentatively dipping inside of me. Even the light contact has my heart racing, blood thrumming in my ears.

“So wet for me, already,” he purrs, pushing in his ring finger as well, slowly thrusting in me out. His other hand holds me close as he speaks into my ear. “Such a good girl. My perfect little mate.”

My hips involuntarily buck forward as his thumb presses against that sensitive bundle of nerves, but his other hand grips my thigh tightly.

“Ah,” he growls, shaking his head. “You said your hips needed a break. So keep them still.”

He switches his pinky out for his middle and pointer fingers, slowly thrusting in and out, in and out.

My whimpers shift into moans, and I find myself biting his shoulder to muffle them. His fingers continue to work magic on me — indescribable, fiery magic. And soon, my abdomen begins to tense and flutter, and I murmur a quick, “please.”

“I know, love,” Eris whispers against my ear, quickening his pace. “I’ve got you. Let go.”

With a sharp cry, my release comes. Pleasure and pressure wash over me and up my spine, making me instinctually close my legs around the overstimulation at my apex. Panting, the sensation seems endless, until I manage to float back down to reality, immediately registering Eris’s voice.

“You look so pretty when you cum on my fingers,” he croons, kissing the shell of my ear. “So innocent.”

“Innocent?” I ask, raising a brow. “When I’m orgasmic and moaning, I look innocent?”

Eris grins, sneaking in a few kisses at my pulse point. “It’s hard to explain… but yes.”

I reach down, seizing his wrist and pulling his hand out of my panties. His fingers glisten with my slick, and without hesitation, I bring them into my mouth… and suck.

“Still innocent?” I speak around his fingers, allowing a soft moan to slip from my throat, gagging a little as my lips meet his palm. 

It’s hard to miss the tent that pops up under the fabric over his crotch.

He opens his mouth to speak, but the crunching of footsteps over leaves interrupts our peace.

Eris sighs heavily, retracting his fingers and fixing my trousers for me. I watch his deft fingers button and straighten my pants with lust-filled, hooded eyes, tongue flicking across my lips. He gives me a ‘wait a moment’ look, and then shifts his attention to the ground.

“Can’t you see I’m busy?” He calls down.

My hand reaches for the button of his own slacks, but his fingers capture my wrist without even sparing me a glance.

Damn Fae instincts.

“Apologies, my lord,” a voice calls up — he has quite the regal tone, so perhaps a guard or even a low-ranking, attention-seeking courtier. “But Lord Lucien was looking for you — something about a starry mate matter? He was rather cryptic, my lord.”

Eris groans, leaning his head down to rest on my shoulder. He whispers, “It’s always him. Always.”

It takes me half a second longer to realize what that message means. It’s an Azriel matter. Of course it is. Azriel being my other mate has yet to be exactly… announced… so far, so Eris’s brothers and very few servants or guards know of the situation. It’s no surprise that Lucien is trying to be discreet.

“Tell him I’ll meet with him in just a moment,” Eris calls down, then looks at me and speaks in a hushed tone. “I’m sure he just wants to speak of your departure in four days — I informed him earlier. I’ll meet you in our rooms later.”

“Eris,” I whine, nipping his nose with a graze of my teeth. “Can’t you feel it? The bond is—”

“I know, my love,” he murmurs, capturing my chin between his forefinger and thumb. “And I will make it up to you tonight. I’ll even bring you those smutty little romance books you like and let you recreate a scene with me.”

That satiates me. “Really?” A smile spread across my lips, my posture straightening.

“Yes, really,” he grins, pecking each of my cheeks and then giving me a quick kiss on the lips. “Look forward to that.”

And with that, he leaps from the tree and disappears down the path.

“I’m bringing a hound?”

“Yes.”

“A hound? This is a stake of dominance if I’ve ever seen one.”

“It’s not just any hound,” Eris whines, gesturing to the blonde bitch at my feet, sitting at attention with her ears in the air. “She’s your favorite hound. You love her. You even sneak her extra treats.”

I roll my eyes, kneeling to stroke the dog. She leans into my touch only slightly, but remains at attention, ready to take orders. “Yeah, because look at her. She has the prettiest blue eyes. How could I say no to that face? Hmmmm? How could I say no to this sweet baby?” I nuzzle the hound’s ear, cooing to her. 

When I look back up, Eris is giving me his best puppy dog face. 

“Oh, come now,” I groan, giving his leg a light push. “I’m sure Azriel would not appreciate me bringing Kelpie, whether she’s your dog or mine — she’s still an Autumn Court hound.”

Eris shakes his head, crossing his arms over his chest. “First of all, I’ll never get over you naming a bitch Kelpie. Secondly, I’m sure if you bat your eyelashes and ask nicely, you can bring her,” he raises a brow, “and I want you to please bring her.”

“Why?” I groan, standing once more and bracing my hands on my hips. “So that you know that I’m safe? I am perfectly capable of protecting myself better than a dog can.”

“It’s for my peace of mind,” he begs, stepping forward and tipping my chin up to look at him. “Please, little flame?”

“No.”

“……Please? For me?” Eris juts his bottom lip out, stroking my cheek with his thumb.

The four days left in Autumn have flown by, and Azriel will be here to pick me up any moment. Which perhaps, maybe, has me questioning my resolve on this matter. I know Azriel will let me bring Kelpie, but honestly it might end up feeling like Eris is watching me.

However, the face he’s making…

I groan heavily, eyes shuttering. “I really hate you, you know that?”

I can feel his grin as he kisses me, one hand sneaking around my waist. “That sounds like a concession, because you know you love me.”

Opening my eyes once more, I give his chest a gentle nudge. “I’ll bring the hound. But if I sense any funny business, and I mean any—”

“Yes, yes,” Eris smirks, patting my head, “you’ll have my ass. I know.”

“Damn right she will.”

I whirl around to find Azriel standing there, arms crossed across his leathered chest. 

“Right on time,” I say, with a glance to the clock. “I hope you don’t mind, but I wish to bring a dog from home. Just for comfort, you know?”

Azriel nods, striding to my side and kneeling to stroke the hound’s side. “That won’t be an issue. What’s her name?”

“Kelpie,” I say, patting her head.

Azriel pauses, and glances at Eris. “Did you…”

“She did,” the High Lord responds, gesturing to me. “And I will never understand why.”

“It’s a perfectly capable name!” I huff, crossing my arms. “You males are just too ridiculous to see the creativity in it.”

Azriel stands with a shrug, and then holds his arm out to me. “Are you ready to go?”

I give Eris a small smile as he hands me my bag, and I take it and Kelpie’s collar in one hand, taking Azriel’s arm with the other. Eris and I had said our goodbyes before Azriel had arrived, and before our hound discussion, so there’s no need for that now.

“Yes,” I reply.

And with that, we are enveloped in shadows.

Velaris is a beautiful city, and the place we are staying in is even more beautiful — they call it the House of Wind. 

However, on the topic of wind, I would have appreciated it more at first had someone, anyone, warned me that in winnowing in you have to either fly or drop the last few yards. 

When our winnow ended and I found myself midair and then suddenly in Azriel’s arms, shooting down onto the balcony, I was not pleased. Luckily, the Illyrian had the foresight to grab Kelpie, so she’s fine, but the whole experience was very jarring. 

“I would have appreciated a warning,” I had told him once we landed, holding a hand over my mouth to ease my queasiness.

“I didn’t think you’d be afraid of heights — I’m sorry, it’s so normal to me that I failed to even consider it,” he apologized over and over, placing a protective hand over my lower back.

“I am not afraid of heights, I am afraid of falling.”

That ended the conversation.

Which is why now I sit in the room they prepared for me, resting. Azriel thought it’d be best for me to be able to settle in a little bit before lunch, after which he’ll take me on a formal tour of the city, and then there will be a dinner at a dwelling known as The River House — Rhys has sent me paintings and descriptions of it times before, so that one isn’t new to me. I do still find it a tad bit curious that I was never informed of the existence of the Wind house, but I decided earlier not to ask.

There are a few extra tidbits I’ve learned about the building I sit in now: it can hear you and will do essentially anything you want, and it houses Cassian and a female named Nesta. I’ve been informed in past letters that she’s one of Feyre’s two elder sisters, along with Elain. I’ll be meeting her tonight, at dinner.

One thing I do know is that I like this place. I was told that the House itself arranged my room based on paintings and descriptions of me, and it’s done a fine job. A bookshelf lines an entire wall, filled with literature that, at a glance, seems to be precisely my type. It placed a knife under my pillow and on my nightstand, which is very typical ‘me’ behavior. When I first stepped in, a steaming cup of my favorite tea was placed on a desk, next to a book titled ‘Velaris: Myths and Lore of the City of Starlight.’

The house likes history.

Currently, I sit in a comfortable lounge chair, that book in my lap and tea in hand, reading up on my historical and mythological events.

I’ve been here for around an hour when the door swings open, revealing Azriel.

“Hi,” I say, closing my book. “Come to collect me?”

He gives me a quick once over, nodding. “If you’re feeling up to it.”

“Of course,” I reply, taking the final sip of my tea — but when I shift to put the items on a table, they vanish. “I must admit, that’s a tad unnerving.”

“You get used to it,” Azriel responds with a shrug, extending his arm. “Now, let me show you Velaris.”

“This time, I hope you’ll warn me before plummeting us to a certain doom,” I grin, taking his bicep gently.

He returns my grin with a wry smile of his own. “Only if I feel like it.”

Azriel’s tour of Velaris was exquisite. He showed me each quarter of the city, the squares for creative people, especially the musicians one — where I walked away a happy customer with a new, magic infused, harp cleaning cloth. Azriel carries it for me in a small paper box as we walk along the Sidra to our next destination: dinner.

“I hope you’re not too nervous,” Azriel starts, tensing a little at my side.

I raise a brow, a piece of hair falling over my temple. “Why would I be? I already know Rhys and Mor, and I’ve met Feyre and Cassian.”

He remains rigid, so I slow to a stop, tugging his elbow to turn him towards me. He says nothing, but does make eye contact.

He’s not exactly lying. But I do have the feeling that he’s omitting information. And as a spy, he must be rather good at it.

“What do I need to know, Azriel?”

A pause. The calculations passing through his mind are visible in his eyes, which sets me in an uneasy state. I find myself gripping his arm tightly now.

But the moment has been stretched out in my mind, because not even two seconds later, he replies. “There will be a couple extra people at the dinner. Their names are Gwyn and Emerie — Nesta’s friends.”

“Good. An imbalance leaning the female way is never a bad thing. Offsets you males and your volatile behaviors,” I laugh, my voice ringing through the air with the sound.

I’ve almost forgotten the way that he paused before he told me that. Like he was deciding what, exactly, to tell me.

Almost.

But when I open my mouth to inquire more, I find that we’re already on the gravel path leading up to the river house, so I snap my jaw shut and resolve that going in half-blind will be my fate.

The door swings open, and out comes Mor, who rushes over and sweeps me out of Azriel’s hold, ushering me into the house and buzzing like a bee. “Ah! I’m so glad you’re here — happy to have you back in the Night Court. Is this your first time in Velaris? Oooh, has Az shown you the city? I hope that—”

“Mor—” I cut in, to no avail.

“—he’s given a good tour; he misses all the great places. Did he show you Rita’s? We love that place! I heard you officially mated with Eris — uhm, good for you. What exactly are you doing here anyway? I thought you and the oh-so-mighty High Lord would still be in a little bubble, so I have to wonder— oh, hey, are you hungry? Since we made a—”

“Mor,” I successfully cut in, and she stops, looking over to be with a raised brow. “I’m happy to see you too. And I’m starving. So, lead the way to the food.”

A snort comes from behind me, undoubtedly Azriel. Mor nods and agrees however, placing a hand on my back and shepherding me towards the source of the food smell. 

I know that Cassian has joined Azriel behind me when the sound of wings colliding occurs, followed by hushed whispers.

But I’m distracted rather quickly as I’m led into the dining room, which is full and bustling with people, some that I recognize and some that I don’t.

I immediately spot Rhysand and Feyre, although they’ve spotted me first, judging by the dinner roll that’s hurtling towards my head. The first time I met Rhys, I defended myself by throwing a sandwich at him, so this has sort of become our tradition. My hand snaps out in front of me, catching the bread. I examine it, then take a bite. 

“First of all, are you ever going to get over this joke? Second of all, this is really good bread. Who made this?” I scarf down the food, walking over and taking a seat to Rhys’s left, Feyre already on his right. Azriel quickly takes the seat next to me.

A petite female across the table warily raises her hand. “Oh, I did. I baked the bread,” she explains. Her voice sounds like falling rose petals on a warm autumn day, and gives off the scent of lavender and honey.

“Hi,” I smile to ease her obvious nerves, holding my hand out. I introduce myself, and she shakes my hand.

“Oh, this is Elain, my sister,” Feyre cuts in, gesturing to the brunette across from us. 

“Ah, yes — I’ve heard from the letters.”

“Lovely to meet you, then,” Elain adds, smiling softly. Then her eyes flick to Azriel, her cheeks color, and she looks back to me. “You must be… Azriel’s.. friend? I was told you were visiting.”

My eyebrows draw together, and I glance at Azriel, and then back to Elain. I open my mouth to ask why she’s being so weird about the fact that I’m his mate, but then I realize the way she’s openly biting her cheek and stealing glances at the Illyrian by my side. It’s suddenly abundantly clear; either she has a thing for Azriel, or they have some sort of past.

Don’t let it bother you.

But it does. Just a little. Tiny bit. I shut my mouth, as the table fills in, every seat being filled.

Introductions go around, and I memorize each face and name. It goes: Elain, three females named Gwyneth, Emerie, and Nesta, and then Cassian. On the far end of my side of the table sits Amren, who gives me a slightly frightening grin.

I note that Gwyneth, or as everyone calls her, Gwyn, is charming and witty, paired with a wall-shaking enthusiasm. I quickly learn that she works in the library, so this must be an important form of socialization.

Emerie is nice, as far as I can tell, definitely headstrong and bold. She has an obviously strong form, but I don’t miss the way that her wings seem to sag a little behind her.

I’m halfway through my assessment of Nesta (sharp-tongued, sarcastic, and moderately unapproachable) when a macaron lands on the edge of my plate. I glance over to find Azriel watching me. 

“Oh, thank you,” I murmur, starting to pile food onto my plate. “Sorry, I was a little distracted.”

Azriel leans over, speaking into my ear, his breath tickling my skin and rustling my hair. “You weren’t distracted. You were analyzing.”

“Perhaps,” I shrug, a little smirk curling on my lips.

“I do it too. It’s just easier when you have shadows that are whispering all that you need or want to know,” he murmurs back, then leans away and starts piling food onto his own plate.

Five minutes pass easily of good food and easy conversation… and not one, but two females making eyes at Azriel. 

Elain is the most obvious about it — blushing and batting her eyelashes and aiming to brush her hand against Azriel’s by reaching for a dish at the same time as him. Thank the Mother, Azriel is mainly unaffected. In fact, his end of the bond shows affection for her, but no romantic feelings whatsoever… at least not right now.

Gwyn is the other, but she’s sneaky. More just making jokes and smiling at him than anything else, though I caught her staring at him a couple times.

Am I a little tiny bit uncomfortable? Yes.

But mostly shocked at how bold these females are. After all, his mate is sitting right next to him, right at their table.

I recite to myself: Don’t let it bother you. You and Azriel are hardly anything anyway.

Hardly anything.

“So,” Amren starts, leaning forward to bore her angular silver eyes into me. “Is someone else going to say it, or am I?”

Elain looks over at the female through her lashes, blinking in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

Nesta rolls her eyes, immediately jumping on Amren’s train of thought. But then she points at me, and my heart falters. “This. Her,” Nesta says, smirking. “Why, exactly, is Eris’s mate in Velaris, with Azriel?”

Rhys raises a brow. “You two are so strange. Mor and I have known her for centuries — she’s always welcome to visit.”

Cassian gives Azriel an amused look, like he’s thoroughly enjoying the situation. He raises his wine glass in a ‘good luck’ fashion. But I’m just confused.

All of the people at the table are looking at us, with a range of expressions. Some are questioning, or confused, others looking to us for confirmation on Rhys’s claim.

And then it hits me.

Oh, shit.

They don’t know.

No one here except for Azriel, Cassian, and me knows.

They don’t know that I am Azriel’s mate.

Oh, shit.

Tags: @cleverzonkwombatsludge @5moremin @azriels-mate123 @a-frog-with-a-laptop @nightless @the-sweet-psycho @mali22 @bubybubsters @hannzoaks @menagerofmischief @theviewfromtheotherside

To be added to the tag list, comment and ask! If I missed you in the tags, please let me know.

#azriel didnt tell them? lol sucks for you #cassian is very amused #“why is eris's mate here?? hmmm?” is nesta being silly or is cassian a snitch hmm i wonder #comment to be added to taglist #acotar #writing #a court of thorns and roses #fanfiction #eris acotar #eris vanserra #fanfic #a court of mist and fury #a court of silver flames #a court of wings and ruin #eris x reader x azriel #azriel x you #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #pro eris vanserra #eris vanserra x reader #eris x reader #acotar fanfiction #fem reader #x reader #acotar x reader #unexpected #azriels mate #eris's mate #cassiefromhell

[myobmaya]

Heart In Hawkins

Verse 1 | Eddie Munson

Introduction | 

Sweet Home Alabama!AU

premise: your husband Eddie Munson arrives on your front door steps five years after he left Hawkins. He holds divorce papers in his hands along with a secret he hopes that can stay private before the media breaks the news. Little does he remember that big secrets never last long in small towns.

TW: smoking, divorce, marriage, leaving, cursing, arrest

The smell of rain is the first thing that hits him as soon as he steps outside the airport. A backpack hangs off his shoulders while an unsettling feeling settles in his stomach. Despite the no smoking sign right next to him, a cigarette rests between his lips. It’s lit up as he stands under the building waiting for the next round of taxis to line up. People do a double take as they walk by him.

Not because they know he’s Eddie Munson. His identity remains unknown due to the sunglasses hiding him. To them, they stare because he’s the only stranger odd enough to wear Ray Bans in the overcast weather.

Inhale

His lungs fill with smoke, the bud halfway burnt out. The sound of families reuniting with their loved ones echoes in the atmosphere. Young couples running up to each other embracing fill his sight. No one is there to greet him with colorful signs or a welcome hug. He’s alone.

Eddie Munson tells himself he doesn’t care. He’s here to do one thing and get the hell out of this town. The divorce papers sit in his bag awaiting your signature. As soon as you sign them you’re officially free from him and he can move onto the next phase of his career.

Exhale

The yellow cabs start to make their way down the road. Travelers line up eager to catch a ride, happy to find themselves safe in their homes away from the rain. Something Eddie doesn’t relate too. Los Angeles doesn’t feel like home. Being here in Hawkins doesn’t feel welcoming. Home wasn’t a place he knew anymore.

A young boy stands not too far away from him. The boy has to be in his early teens as he proudly sports a black shirt with red lettering spelling out Corroded Coffin.

Eddie doesn’t hide the grin on his face watching the young teenager rock his head back and forth to the headphones glued to his ears. The boy is too distracted listening to his favorite band to see behind the shades, the front man is a mere five feet away from him. A man, Eddie assumes to be the boy’s father, steps out into the road raising his hand as a taxi drives up.

The taxi misses the man and goes right up to Eddie as soon as he gives a simple wave to the driver. An aggravated cry is called out from the father as Eddie plucks the cigarette from his lips. Eddie looks at the father with a blank stare. He thinks about calling over the man to take the taxi. Instead, Eddie opens the back door mushing the bud into the ground hearing the father try to whistle the next ride down. Eddie slings his backpack down on the seat and shuts the door behind him.

“Where too?” The driver asks Eddie, already setting his meter.

Eddie leans back into the seat watching raindrops hit the window before disappearing down the trail. It’s almost a metaphor of the man he’s become. The rain has always relaxed him but sitting here, back in Hawkins, irritation starts to set in. It brings back memories to his youth that he’s spent the last five years to forget. The love he used to feel for the weather has gone, no longer bringing him comfort. It only brings a bitter taste to his mouth.

It’s the reason why he chose California. It hardly ever rains and when it does it only lasts a few moments. It gives him just the right amount of time to think of you before he’s onto the next distraction. He wonders if you ever think of him.

Probably not.

The driver asks Eddie again where he needs to go.

He wants to kick himself realizing that he doesn’t have to think twice. The address is forever embedded in his memory.

His fingers twitch and he wishes he had finished his last cigarette.

“Orchid Avenue, please.”

————

Sesame Street plays on the T.V while you finish up the last few dishes in the sink. Applesauce lines your shirt and you’re feeling tired after a long afternoon. You’ve been running on autopilot, zoning in and out for the better part of the day. Waking up hearing your rooftop patter with the weather and having a sleepless night set the tone for you.

It’s a rough day. But you’re making it through. Just like you always do.

You’re sure you would have stayed in bed and drowned in your thoughts had it not been for the three year old sitting in your living room. Regardless, you’re grateful for the weather. It gave you an excuse to have your business closed today. A mental break for you away from the outside world.

You hear the front door open followed by a cheerful greeting from the young boy just as you finish up washing the last cup. Being in a small town you only ever locked your door when you left to maintain your shop. The only people ever coming into your house were you and the man making his way to greet his son. No one else ever occupied the house.

Just the way you needed it to be.

“There’s my boy!” You can’t help but feel your lips quirk up hearing the toddler giggle seeing his father after eight long hours. A greeting isn’t needed from you as you set the cup down and wash your hands knowing the two boys are welcoming each other.

You dry your hands and walk through the threshold from the kitchen straight into the living room. The sight before you tickles a warm feeling deep in your chest. A change from the gloominess that had been settled deep in your chest from this morning.

Steve Harrington holds his son on his hips as he asks him how his day was. You take a moment to appreciate the moment between the father and son. It’s domestic moments like these that leave a bitter sting in your heart. The what if moments that always linger in the back of your mind.

No. No more of those thoughts, you scold yourself shaking your head. You push yourself off the wall and walk towards Steve.

“How was he?” Steve asks, kissing the top of his son’s head. The boy clings to his father one last time before wiggling to be put back down. He missed his dad, but the dinosaurs on the ground seem more interesting now.

“Oh you know,” you bend down and pick up a toy car by the T.V stand. “An angel as always.”

Steve sees the wet spots that lines your shirt. You’re more quiet than usual today. The tired look on your face gives you away but the smile on your face tells him you would do it all again tomorrow. Steve thinks it’s from watching Harry, but the distant look in your eyes tell him there’s more too it. Guilt pangs him feeling like watching his child didn’t help the emotional checked out state you’re in.

“Sorry, I know Harry can be a handful—“

You’re quick to raise your hand refusing to let Steve apologize for his son. Harry is a wonderful child. He has his moments of temper, but he’s more lovable than most times. It’s just what happens when you’re three years old.

Regardless, as Harry’s godparent you have grown to love boy, temper and all. Being there since his birth up until now you loved having your days with him.

“He was good, Steve. A reminder that I definitely do not want to have a child right now, but he was good.”

Steve gives you a grateful smile. Harry is the light of his life. The one good thing he feels proud of.

You get the laundry basket designated for Harry’s toys that he keeps here and pass it over to Steve. Your shirt starts to stick to your skin indicating it’s time to change out of the remainder of Harry’s snack.

Steve sees you make a face as you pluck the shirt from your tummy. You look up at him with a scrunched up nose.

“I’m going to change, I’ll be right back to walk you guys out.”

Steve throws the last hot wheels car into the basket and goes to the hall closet where you keep spare jackets for Harry. He thinks about you. You worry him when you distance yourself. A habit you only do when you’re trapped inside of your head.

The rain drops hitting the rooftop give a peaceful sound. Steve enjoys it until he remembers the significance of it. The lightbulb goes off.

“How are you feeling today?” Steve calls grabbing the tiny jacket. A question he only asks you when he sees right through the front you put on.

The friendship between you and Steve was one that you both cherished. He was there for you after your husband left. Promising you that everything would work out. And in return you promised to be there for him after he became a single dad.

Steve was the one to help you change the locks of the door.

You were the one to donate all of the flowers at the mother of his child’s funeral.

Both of you promising to be each other’s strength in weakness.

You hear the question from outside of your door. The box that holds your ring stares at you. Most days are good. You get up, go to the shop, work and go home. A cycle that you’ve learned to live in order to survive.

The days where you allow yourself to get a break and get a taste of the domestic life memories come back. Most of the time you can bare it and push them back. But days like today, with the rain coming down just right, the memories play over and over again in the back of your mind.

You want to tell Steve the truth. To tell him that you want to curl up in your bed and forget that you exist for awhile. But you hear Harry call for his dad and you’re reminded of the happy moments in life. So you choose to ignore his question and continue to search for a shirt to change into.

Steve takes your silence as an answer. He doesn’t pry. He knows you’ll come to him when you’re ready.

He’s on his way over to Harry when a knock is heard on the front door. Steve furrows his brows.

Were you expecting anyone?

Harry runs over and bumps right into Steve’s legs tumbling onto the floor. Steve curses to himself ready to scold the boy to be careful before Harry looks up at him and giggles. Kids made of steel.

“Are you expecting anyone?” Steve turns his head over his shoulder to your closed bedroom door. He hears what he thinks is your drawer shut before you call back to him.

“Just a package of those pink vases I ordered!”

The knocks sound again. Harry is up on his feet tugging at his jacket. Steve helps him thread his arms through the sleeves and zips him up.

“I think it might be here,” Steve yells back at your door. Harry goes to get his shoes that are usually kept inside the hall closet. The young boy steps inside and goes to the usual spot but finds nothing.

Steve makes his way over to the door. The knocks sound again. 

Geez, FedEx. Calm down, Steve’s frustration with the impatience on the other side of the door ever so present.

“I’m coming!” Steve yells at the door. The knocking continues even as Steve unlocks the door and swings it open. He’s about to tell the delivery guy off when he stops mid sentence.

Steve hears your bedroom door open followed by your naïve, “I didn’t think they delivered packages in these conditions.”

Oh, they definitely do not.

You see Harry standing out the hall closet with a pout on his face. His tiny hands wring together in front of him. A habit he’s formed ever since his mom left. Worry takes over not liking when he’s upset.

“What’s wrong, Haz?”

Harry looks up at you with tears in his eyes. Out of instinct you take him into your arms. His arms wrap around your neck as he buries his face into it.

You look up and see Steve staring outside with the door open. He looks back at you when you call out his name. He whips his head around as if he’s seen a ghost. He looks back at the person on the other side and back at you.

Harry sniffles into your neck. You hold him closer, stepping towards the front, “Shh, it’s okay.”

A horrified look comes across Steve’s face. He wants to tell you to walk in the opposite direction. You don’t need to deal with this, especially on a day like today. He can just shut the door now. But, words fail him as you step up to him with Harry in your arms.

“Who's here?” Your worry is evident in your voice. It’s unlike Steve to ever be silent. You give Steve one last look before stepping aside and looking out your opened door.

Those chocolate colored eyes you knew all too well stare at you. It feels like time freezes. You stop breathing and it feels like your blood runs cold. Had Harry not been clinging to your neck, you swear you could have dropped him right then and there.

There in front he stands.

The man who swore he would love you until his dying breath.

The man who you made a vow too.

The man who left you in the middle of the night five years ago without a word.

Your husband.

Eddie Munson.

He blinks at you. His eyes trail to the boy in your arms. He looks at Steve. Then his eyes are back on you. Adam's apple bobs up and down as he swallows.

He clears his throat. A million questions pop up in his head. Why is Steve here? Whose kid is that? Are you and Steve together? Is that your child with Steve?

Steve sees your grip failing. Not only on Harry but on yourself as you stare at Eddie in complete disbelief. He places a hand on your back and that seems to snap you out of the trance you’re in. You look at Steve with disbelief in your eyes. A hesitant breath is heard as you try to remember to breath.

This can’t be happening. Is this happening? The panic look on your face is enough to break Steve’s heart.

You watch Steve give you a sharp nod to confirm that this is in fact happening right now. He steps forward and tries to take Harry. The toddler shakes his head keeping his arms locked around you. This seems to wake you from your trance as you look down at Harry.

“Go to Daddy for a second, baby.” Harry shakes his head and Steve tries to get him again.

You feel Eddie’s eyes on you. His mind is going crazy and that unsettling feeling he despises is back again. He sees that you no longer wear your ring.

Daddy? You have a child? With Steve Harrington?

He’s sick looking at you. It should make this easier knowing you’ve moved on but he can’t shake the bitter taste in his mouth. He looks at you and feels nothing but betrayal. His reservations being back in town to give you divorce papers are long gone.

The burning stare causes the bumps on your arms to raise. Your arms are weak and you need Harry to go to Steve before you drop him.

It’s hard, but you manage to balance Harry under your arm while your other hand smooths the hair on the back of his head. He feels you kiss the side of his forehead and he starts to feel better. The devastation of misplacing his shoes starts to fade.

You give Steve a knowing look.

Don’t you dare leave just yet. He gives you a tight lined smile. It tells you he won’t.

Eddie catches the exchange. He doesn’t like what he’s seeing.

“Why don’t you have Daddy take you inside and get you some of that chocolate pudding we had?”  His pout turns into a small smile at the mention of his favorite dessert. “Tell him what’s wrong and see if he can help.”

The sound of chocolate pudding immediately puts Harry in a good mood. His problems are long forgotten and he’s turning his body towards Steve. Steve catches him in time as he flings forward. You step outside the porch just as Steve gets behind the door. Steve gives you an assuring look before glaring up at Eddie.

“We’ll be in the kitchen.”

You nod as he shuts the door behind him. You’re too focused on the man standing in front of you to notice the opening of the living room curtains immediately as Steve watches. The rain is still coming down but it’s eased up. Lightening scatters across the sky but the thunder has gone home. A million questions run through your mind. Where do you even start?

No. Where does Eddie even start?

It’s times like these where you’re grateful for having a covered porch. The light breeze still manages to paint speckled drops of rain drops along the wooden floors but it’s nothing compared to the way it waters the streets.

Eddie watches as you lean your back against the front door. Your arms are crossed not giving him a clear view of your ringless finger. The thought alone settled deep in his core. He never thought Steve would make a move on you. You two were so… different. How could that even happen?

Then again he never thought you would openly have another man’s child while still being married to him.

A scowl sets in on his face. You clear your throat. Eddie trails his eyes up to meet yours. The look on your face is emotionless. Not even your eyes have any emotion behind them. He’s upset seeing you with another man. But he doesn’t feel welcomed here. In the town he grew in. Standing on the front porch steps of the house he bought. He feels awkward standing here. His ring cladded fingers scratch the back of his neck before he takes a deep breath ready to face the music. A million unspoken words cloud his mind. He wants to ask you how long you’ve been with Steve. Why couldn't you just divorce him? What did you tell people when he left? 

Instead only one word can come out.

“Hey.”

You cock your head to the side as your jaw drops. He closes his eyes mumbling out a small fuck. Maybe he should have prepared something and not decide to wing it.

Anger bubbles up as you open your mouth to say something. It closes when nothing comes out. Your eyes squint at him and then look around.

Is he serious?

Hey

He leaves in the middle of the night and comes back five years later. No calls. No letters. Nothing for five years. And he thinks he can just come back and say hey?

Did those countless nights of alcohol and rock n’ roll finally catch up to his brain cells?

Your face goes hard. Eddie’s eyes widened. He rethinks his word of choice. You take a step forward. He doesn’t get a chance to step backwards before you push his hard chest. He stumbles, not expecting your rage to come out physically.

“Where the fuck have you been?”

His eyes are wide and he wishes he hadn’t been left alone.

“I-I’ve been-“

You cut him off, giving him another shove. “You leave for five fucking years! Five years! And all you can say is hey?”

You see the wheels turn in Eddie’s head. He opens his mouth and then closes it. This better be good, you tell yourself to keep from punching him straight across his jaw.

“I think we should talk.”

Your eyes narrow at him and he’s gulping. Is he serious? He leaves in the middle of the night without a word and shows up five years later. And he thinks you should talk? You take a step forward pushing at his chest. He stumbles back, but catches himself on the railing of the front door step staircase.

“No, Eddie,” you shove him again. His grip tightens on the staircase. He relies on his weight to keep him steady on the ground. “I think you should talk.” You shove him only to bounce yourself back. It only angers you more to not see him physically react to you.

“Because, I have nothing to say to you.”

Eddie takes another step back getting closer to the steps that carry guests up to the door. The anger in your eyes scares Eddie. The rock star expected some emotions from you.

“I can explain,” He stutters out. You don’t care.

You give him one last shove with all of the strength you can muster and he’s tumbling backwards down the stairs. He lands flat on his back into a mud puddle splashing dirt upon you in the process.

The front door opens as you look down at Eddie. Shock is present in his face and you’re almost sure that if looks could kill he’d be buried already. You’re about to tell Eddie to get back up so you can push him down again when an arm turns you around.

It’s Steve. The curtain behind the window in the living room is open and you see two little eyes peeking up at you.

Harry.

Steve watches as your face falls. He shouldn’t have seen this. He should have been in the kitchen eating his pudding. Dammit Steve. Harry’s bottom lip is pouted and he instantly turns away from you. Disappointment in yourself for getting so upset and having Harry watch it unfold takes over the rage you feel against Eddie.

Steve looks at Eddie. He looks at you. The two people that had him believe that some people do get their fairytale ending, now stand together but a million stories apart. One question stands as he sees the two of you. How did you two end up like this?

Eddie gets up from the ground groaning about the mud on his pants. He wipes himself off taking off his backpack.

“C’mon,” Steve nods his head at the door. He sees the way tears well up in your eyes. He also sees the way you will yourself not to cry in front of your husband. You need to get away from him. Steve gets you to the threshold of the door when your former lover’s voice stops you. 

“I have divorce papers.”

You freeze again. Steve watches as you close your eyes taking a deep breath in. 

Inhale.

Of course he does. This was bound to happen sooner or later. It’s been five long years.

Exhale.

Why would he back in Hawkins for anything less?

You turn around and see him holding his backpack up towards you. It must be in there. Eddie and you stare each other down. The memory of the last time he was here plays in the back of your mind. Except instead of him giving you his heart this time, he’s taking yours in the form of papers. 

You feel like your heart has been stepped on. The words you promised yourself you would say to him if he ever came back are ling forgotten. The ache you felt five years ago never went away like you made yourself believe. It was something you just buried and hoped it only resurfaced when he came back to tell you he didn’t mean to leave you behind. That all of your hard work to better yourself the past five years hasn’t been for nothing. That the future you’ve been trying to build for the two of you isn’t about to crash in the matter of seconds.

“I have everything set up. You just need to sign them.”

You look at him and see his ring less finger. The sight doesn't sting knowing that even in your marriage he never wore it. Eddie watches as your eyes trail up to his neck. He knows you’re looking to see if he’s wearing it. The necklace that holds the ring that sits next to his lucky pic.

He’s not.

It stings seeing him not wear his band, but you refuse to say anything about the missing piece. Yours is tucked away in your jewelry box, untouched for the past year.

“Let me get this straight. You came all the way from California just to get me to sign some papers?” 

He nods. Eddie looks at the ring less finger on your hand. He takes note of the way Steve watches you, waiting for your next reaction. What more can he say? You’ve clearly moved on and started a family. Living the dream that was promised to him. 

You look at Steve who only gives you a half hearted smile. Steve doesn’t know what to say. And neither do you. You’ve made progress. He doesn’t get to take it away from you. So you think of the last sentence that you told him five years ago.

“Eddie, you need to leave.”

Eddie swears he’s five years younger again watching as you turn around and walk to the door. The heartache he felt is the same if not worse watching you leave with another man next to you. He wants to have the last word. He didn’t get a chance to get it when he left all those years ago. So he goes for it. 

“If you just sign the papers you can stop living in sin, darling.”

Your jaw ticks at that. What’s that supposed to mean? He raises an eyebrow at you. 

“Excuse me?” 

He lets out a humorless laugh throwing a hand towards Steve.

“I mean, I don’t know why you couldn’t be the one to get this started. You’ve clearly moved on!”

Your eyes narrow watching Eddie make his way up the steps. Steve steps in front of you to prevent any more physical altercations.

Eddie laughs cruelly. “Yeah, yeah go ahead and have someone else fight your battles for you. Good to know some things never changed.”

You charge forward and bump into Steve’s chest. Eddie laughs harder as you tumble backwards. There’s nothing he loves more than seeing you get worked up. The way he could say just the right words to get you to snap.

Steve pushes you inside as you tell Eddie that he can take those papers and shove it right up his—-

You hear Harry call your name and stop yourself from completing the sentence. Steve turns around to face Eddie. Eddie rolls his eyes at Steve.

“Welcome home, Munson.” Sarcasm drips with every word. 

You wait for Steve to come inside glaring at Eddie the whole time. Eddie crosses his arms clearly letting you know he’s not done.

Eddie walks up to the door but you slam it in his face. Too bad for him, you’re done. 

He hears the locks tinker behind him. 

Some things truly never change. Your dramatics to be one, Eddie rolls his eyes. He turns back around the way he came. The rain has settled down and it’s barely dripping from the sky. 

He hears Steve’s voice mumbling behind the door. He jogs down the stairs needing to get away from the sound. 

He saw the way Steve handled you. The way you turned to him for comfort from your husband.  Eddie tells himself it’s anger rather than jealousy that he’s feeling. 

You get to move on and he doesn’t get too? For God’s sake you literally went and had another child with Steve Harrington of all people.

Why is it okay for you to move on and live your fairytale ending that you robbed him off?

He walks down the front porch steps pulling his phone out of his backpack. The first name on his call log is his manager. The same person who convinced him to come back to Hawkins to take care of his final tie here. His finger presses down on the second caller. 

His eyes scan the time on his watch and he figures he should give her a call. He looks up and sees you looking at him through the window. Your expression is unreadable. He puts his sunglasses on and looks at the phone number. 

He’ll call her later.  

The third contact is the winner and he’s pulling out his wallet from his back pocket. It’s wet from his fall from earlier but luckily the cards are safe due to the leather interior.

The phone rings for a minute. And then someone answers. The worker asks where he needs to be picked up.

“I’m on Orchid Avenue. Can you take me to the Hotel Inn?” 

The worker tells him how much it’ll be and Eddie asks the worker for a minute to ensure he has enough to cover his costs. Even with his card having more than enough, he still prefers cash. It’s the visual aspect of seeing his money go that keeps his mind at ease. 

His fingers flip through the cash before a card catches his eye. Eddie pulls it out and sees the card you two got for the joint bank account. 

Surely you wouldn’t still have the joint account open… would you? His finger runs down the card feeling the indent of the numbers. He feels himself get smug when his brain gives him an idea. 

He pulls out two twenty dollar bills. The last in his wallet before he needs to replace them. 

Was it really smart to do this? He looks up at the house and sees you looking at him. He gives you a cocky smile. You flip him off. Steve right behind you. Walking into his house that he bought with you. Something about that doesn’t sit right. 

Yup, he’s going to go for the low blow.

“Actually, can you take me to Hawkins City Bank?” If you weren’t going to sign the papers before, he’d give you a reason to do so now. He gives the house one last look. You’re no longer at the window and the curtains are shut now. He looks at the card holder again smiling at his victory.

The taxi picks him up and Eddie over tips the driver giving him both twenties. He won’t need it anyways. He walks into the bank grateful they’re still open despite the clearing weather. 

It’s amazing how a small town operates business. Eddie’s gotten used to the ever demanding service in Los Angeles he forgets the community aspect of a town built on honesty.

The teller greets Eddie. She has to be around her early twenties and she wears her hair back in a loose bun. He catches the way she eyes him up and down. She smiles at him and he grins at her. His pearly whites are on display and his dimples are deep. 

“Here to make a deposit?” She uses the same line with every customer, this time adding a head tilt at the end. Out of habit, he scans her left hand and grins at the naked ring finger.

Eddie sees right through her act. He gives her the attention knowing it’ll only help him in return. It’s a part he’s learned to play that’ll get him where he needs to be and he’ll happily play it.

“Actually sugar,” he takes his glasses from his eyes and slides them to hang off his shirt. He throws her a wink that has her cheeks tainting red.

“I’m actually here to withdraw and close out an account.”

thank you @loveshotzz for keeping me out of my head and encouraging me to finish this even if I wanted to delete the whole idea in general.

part 2: verse 2

#eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson angst #eddie munson imagine #Eddie munson #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson au #rockstar eddie munson #rockstar!eddie munson

[freedomfireflies]

I’m looking forward to Friday now, can’t wait to see Mr. And Mrs. Hey Soul Sister😩

You stare at the document in front of you. The words, the ink, the instructions all blur together as the tears find their way to your eyes.

Sign Here.

Easy enough. A simple signature and you’re rid of him forever. The nightmare can finally be over.

You swipe your knuckles along your cheek, ridding yourself of the embarrassing admittance of your disappointment. You’re not sure why you’re so upset. This is exactly what you wanted. It’s what he wants, too. Finally, you can go back to your mundane life and leave Harry Styles and his endless parade of press and photo-ops behind.

The pen hovers above the page, tight between your fingers, waiting to be used. You’re hesitating but you’re not sure why. 

Sign the fucking document. Sign it and go home. Sign it and leave him behind.

You look up at the clock. Five minutes until eight. He’ll be arriving at the carpet for his new movie about now. He’ll smile, he’ll wave, and he’ll answer questions. You can practically hear him now.

What are you wearing? Uh…Gucci? I believe? Yeah. Gucci. 

Can you describe the movie in three words? Uh…heartbreaking…exciting…cinematic.

Cinematic? Yeah, you know…it just…it feels like a movie, y’know?

Sure, sure. And where is the missus tonight? Oh, she’s at home tonight, yeah. Bit jet-lagged from our trip.

Then, they’ll ask about the flight. If you’re both happy to be in New York. He’ll lie and say you are, even though he’s the one in New York and you’re still at his home in L.A.

He’s already signed the papers. Signed them the day they were delivered. And then…he left. Without a word. Without a goodbye. Without a handshake.

You were okay with that. Because seeing him…having to face what you said, what you felt…it was too much for even you.

You stayed to pack up your things. You wanted to be gone by the time he returned. Which would be tomorrow, just before his sold-out show. 

Before things…well, ended, he’d offered to let you and your friend come along. She was thrilled. You were reluctant but you had to admit, some of his songs were growing on you. And not because you actually liked the songs, but because…well, you suppose it doesn’t matter anymore.

You shake the thought from your head. Eye the papers. Grit your teeth. Take a deep breath. Just sign them, dammit. He did. Far too easily. In fact, you should be a little offended he was so glad to be rid of you. Didn’t even feel the need to say goodbye. After everything.

He’s a pig, you decide. He’s a pig and an asshole and he’s starting to remind you a little of Homelander from The Boys. Which is a character you only know because he made you watch the entire show.

So…there. He’s Homelander and you’re Starlight or whoever the fuck else and you’re gonna sign these papers and be rid of him forever. You’re gonna be the hero of your own life.

And you do it. Scrawl your name across the page, holding your breath the whole way, and before you know it…it’s over. 

It’s over.

You lean back, eyes on the document as every weight on your shoulder suddenly lifts.

You are officially no longer Mrs. Hey Soul Sister.

Truth to be told, you don’t know how to feel about it but you won’t let yourself feel anything about it because there’s just not enough time to cry over some guy with glitter up his ass.

You’re done.

You spend the rest of the day packing your things and saying goodbye to the home you’ve grown so used to. The door he had you pressed against. The mirror he fucked you in front of. The floor he ruined you on.

You leave the papers on the kitchen counter. They’ll be the first thing he sees when he walks in.

You readjust the strap on your shoulder and take a deep breath, preparing yourself to leave this odd blip in your life behind.

Once the door shuts behind you…it feels like everything is gonna be okay.

You spend the next day at your friend's apartment. She doesn’t pry for information. She doesn’t try to cheer you up. She turns off his song when it comes on during shuffle.

Most importantly, she offers to go pick up your favorite food for dinner and you could cry with gratitude.

Once she’s gone, you slump over to the sofa, pulling the blankets further around your body as you let your eyes fall toward the fireplace, watching the flames flicker along the brick, listening to the crackle. 

You take a deep breath, one rogue tear falling free before you have the chance to wipe it away, and you ask yourself how long it’ll be before he’s out of your system. For good.

“What the fuck…is this?”

You look up, terrified and startled as you see Harry suddenly standing about ten feet away, waving something in the air. 

You gasp, fingers clutching the soft throw blanket a bit tighter to your chest. “I…Harry, what the hell are you—”

“You just left?” he bellows, taking a step, vicious stare finding yours. “No note, no nothing? Just divorce papers?”

You blink. “Well…yeah, that was our deal—”

“No, fuck that,” he laughs, rather bitterly as he shakes his head and looks around the small apartment. “No, you…I thought we were gonna talk it out.”

“Talk what out? You left,” you remind him. “And you signed them, too.”

He stares at you for a moment, teeth gritting together as he tosses the papers in his hand toward you. 

You catch them, a bit confused but rather curious as he nods his chin at you.

You look down.

You see your signature. Your name.

And right above it? Right where his should be?

Mr. Hey Soul Sister.

“I…don’t understand,” you whisper, looking back up. “You know that’s not actually your name, right?”

He scoffs, hand running through the soft curls on his head. “Yes, I know that. I just…I thought if you saw that…maybe…maybe you wouldn’t sign them.”

Your head tilts. “Harry, why…what the hell is going on? I thought this is what you wanted.”

“Yeah, well…so did I,” he grumbles. “But when I came home and you were…you were just gone, I didn’t know what to do.”

Your heart sinks. Don’t do this to me. Please. Please don’t do this to me. “Harry…”

“Oh, don’t Harry me. No, we…look, I left because I knew you wanted your space and I didn’t wanna push you but I thought…you know, I thought after a couple days you’d finally be ready to talk.”

You sigh as you glance over his face. “That was sweet but…there’s nothing to talk about.”

“And why the fuck not?” He takes another step, no longer annoyed but livid. “Huh? You told me you loved me and then you left.”

You scoot toward the edge of the sofa. “Yeah, I left because you don’t love me.”

“Says who?”

You blink. He doesn’t.

“Says…says you, dipshit,” you remind him. “You made it very clear this was just a business deal to protect your image, and that’s fine, but now we’re done.”

He straightens up. Regards you carefully. “Maybe I don’t wanna be done.”

You straighten up as well. “And maybe I can’t do any more maybes.”

This settles in the air between you both for a moment, the only sound that of the crackling fire a few feet away.

He nods once. Takes another step. “I don’t want to be done.”

Your jaw tenses. Undeterred and unimpressed with his motivation. “You’ll find someone else to keep on your arm, don’t worry.”

“I don’t want someone else.”

“Well, you don’t want me.”

“I always fucking want you.”

You lean back, eyes wide and heart racing. You wait, just for a moment, to see if he’ll retract it. Shake his head, change his mind. 

He doesn’t.

“What?”

He takes another step. “I said…I always fucking want you. Why the fuck do you think I made up all that shit about the divorce ruining my image?”

You feel your breath hitch. “What…what do you—”

“Oh, come on. You don’t think I really give two shits about a couple of articles, do you?” he snorts, now a hint of a smile on his lips. “They’ve been calling me a womanizer and a playboy for years. You think this is where I’d get insecure and squirrely?”

“Then…then why?” Your hands wave in the air, desperate to grasp onto understanding. “Why put us through all this if you…why?”

He shrugs now, eyes falling to the floor. Almost ashamed. “Because I didn’t want to let you go. I knew it the moment I met you in the bar and you started screeching like a dying whale trying to sing that song.”

Your eyes narrow but you feel yourself smirk.

“And I knew what I was doing asking you to marry me. And I knew that you saying yes was the best moment of my life. And I knew that I didn’t know anything else…except you.” 

He looks up.

“And I figured we had the rest of our lives to work out all the details,” he murmurs. “I just didn’t figure you’d actually leave.”

The blanket falls from your hand, collecting on your lap.

“Har, I…I…” You stand, fingers shaking slightly as you step up to him, soft gaze falling across his face before your palms find his chest and you shove. “What the fuck is wrong with you? Why didn’t you tell me any of this before?”

He stumbles but he’s fighting a grin. “Because I wasn’t sure if you really meant it. I thought maybe it was a…Stockholm Syndrome thing or something. That you’d realize you just felt bad for me and I…look, I didn’t want your pity.”

“That…is so…” You sigh before pushing him back once more. “Stupid. That is so fucking stupid. All this time? I mean, all this fucking time we could have been—”

His hand slips around the back of your neck and before you know it, he’s yanking you forward and kissing you quick.

You go silent. Surprised and confused and so fucking happy you’re not sure what to do with yourself. 

He doesn’t deepen the kiss. Doesn’t attempt to go any further without your permission. Just wants you to know…

Wants you to know what?

You shove at his chest for a third time. Softer. Just enough to part your lips and regain his attention. “Har…what are you doing? What…what is all this for?”

He takes a deep breath, forehead pressed to yours. “Just had to get a running start.”

“What? What fo—"

“I love you.”

You suck in a sharp breath. Hear those three little words ringing in your ears, over and over and over. 

“What?”

His palm finds your cheek. Caresses it softly as he meets your eye. “I love you. I want to stay married to you. Forever. To you and your tone-deaf pitch and your dad jokes.”

You laugh, despite yourself.

“I want to spend the rest of my life, in sickness and in health…with you. And I promise, I will love you through all of it,” he whispers and your heart just about soars. “And I promise to spend every day…teaching you why Dancing Queen is so much better than Gimme, Gimme, Gimme.”

You laugh again, fingers slipping into his hair as you stretch up onto your tiptoes to kiss him. To really kiss him. To taste him, to have him…your husband. 

Forever.

However, after a moment, he steps away from you, and you feel gutted until you realize why.

He reaches toward the sofa, plucking the document into the air before throwing it into the roaring fire, smiling proudly as he faces you once more.

“Now, you’re officially and forevermore…Mrs. Hey Soul Sister,” he declares.

And as you kiss him again, happier than you’ve ever been, you can’t help but think one thing…

Maybe Harry Styles isn’t so bad after all.

THE END🥹♥️

Thank you so much to the original requester for trusting me with this amazing idea and for letting me explore it a bit further! I hope it was everything you wanted and that I could do it justice!

And thank you to everyone that kept up with it and felt excited along with me to see where these two idiots wound up! I love you all so much! 💞

~ Previous Part

~ Other Harry Blurbs

~ Full Masterlist

#harry #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fan #harry styles request #harry styles imagine #harry styles blurb #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #mr & mrs. hey soul sister #request #blurb

[leviathanspain]

Hey could you do Anakin Skywalker x reader (she/her)? Where she is Padme’s sister and they are in love and she is pregnant. Because Anakin joined dark side she ran away and after some years he finds her and takes her with him. Could end with smut or fluff you can choose. I hope you could understand, English isn’t my native language. love your writing❤️

if i were to go, tell me, would you notice me?

you knew he was hot on your trail. hoth was far from where you had left your son with the others. the old base seemed like your only option. you couldn’t return to naboo. your sister thought you dead, your people, mourned, you couldn’t endanger your people especially you had no home to return to. anakin was dead. at least in your eyes, considering the rumors, anakin skywalker had died long ago.

you mourned his life. who he used to be, especially before he had snapped, going on a rampage of ‘protecting you’ that only drove you away.

your pregnancy came as a complete surprise. this wasn’t apart of your escape plan, but it seemed to be a bigger reason to leave. anakin was bordering dangerous, he held you every night with the same softness, but the aggression when you would get up, only grew. he didn’t want you to part, not even to do your daily activities assisting your sister and her senator duties, not even as simple as showering. anakin would watch you like a hawk, even when he was supposed to be your sisters bodyguard, he admitted that he had been always watching you.

you remembered your arguments. it would always begin with anakin snapping away from the same nightmare. you would comfort him as he shook. he always recounted what happened in the dream, and even though you were terrified that it could possibly be your future, you never let him see your fear. 

sitting on one of the old beds in the hoth base, you tried to conserve your warmth and your energy. you thought of your son, who you had never been apart from as long as you have now. you were doing this for him. you left your son, jai, because anakin could never know of his existence. you loved the man before he became a sith, and now, he was practically a stranger.

you heard the doors of the both base shutter with a loud creak. the shrill machinery of the droids as they moved filled your ears as you realized that he had finally caught up to you.

you had been hidden from him for about five years. your trace and use of the force had disappeared, but your son was starting to show signs of his power, so you had to use your own to hide his small signature with your own splotch. he caught onto it, and after what could’ve been the end of the life you had so loved with your son, you knew that running away and leading him to you, alone, was the only way.

you sat up on the bed, and waited. minutes or hours, couldve passed by, and it all seemed to be the same, washing away as he stepped into the room. you wanted scream, you wanted feel anything, besides what you had forbidden yourself to feel. love, love was the only thing you seemed to feel when you looked at him. his eyes, his eyes were different, but he was all the same. the same anakin, the same man who you had left all those years ago.

he was staring at you, his eyes were taking you in, like you were something he had to conquer. he was looking the same way he had when you had married on naboo. anakin didn’t hesitate as he stepped foward, watching you rise from the bed, and taking your shivering figure into his arms. he wasn’t wearing the clunky suit that he was normally seen in, not even wearing the mask. instead, he was your anakin, down to the callouses on his hands from his saber.

you wanted to cry. the overwhelming feeling of love and the possibilities of the danger you had opened yourself up to, filled you. you thought of your son, who you would have to reveal to anakin, popped into your head. you could never tell anakin, but risk losing the chance of raising your son.

“y/n.” his voice was the same, nothing changed, not even the inflection of the love in his voice, “i missed you so much.” he kissed you, embracing you and you felt your heart swell as you expressed your own love for anakin.

even though you had refused to join the dark side, you knew he would still take care of you and jai. anakin had taken the news of his son, surprisingly well. he had expressed his desire to finally be a father, and he apologized for the fear he had invoked with his behavior, and you forgave him, but you knew eventually, you would have to change his allegiance, bjt for now, you tried to find the harmony.

#anakin skywalker x female reader #anakin skywalker angst #anakin x reader #star wars x reader #star wars fluff #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker fluff #darth vader x reader #darth vader fluff

[ethereal-bumble-bee]

Cot Sponlon Lore!!!

(Here’s some info on Cot Sponlon and his campaign for President of the United States! Feel free to suggest additions/ask questions, and don’t forget- Vote Cot Sponlon in 2024!)

Backstory:

    I’m doomed, Spot lamented silently as he stared at the papers on the desk before him. They were written in fancy language that he barely understood, with official-looking stamps and signatures plastered over every sheet, and Spot felt as if they were trying to suck the soul out of his body.

    It had all started as a joke. He’d been drunk with Race on a Saturday night, and the other boy had made some sort of joke- like a “hey, what if you ran for President of the United States” sort of joke- and Spot had taken it seriously. A more sober version of him (but still a version with horrible ideas) had gone through the process, somehow getting himself involved with New York’s state government and also somehow getting nominated to represent the Democratic Party in the race. 

    Cot Sponlon was the name he’d chosen. A stupid mixed-up version of his childhood nickname that somehow went unchecked by everyone he came into contact with (he didn’t know how), the name that newscasters either berated or praised on television, the name that he’d have to use for the rest of his life if he wanted to keep up this ruse. He had no clue how nobody had checked to see if Cot Sponlon was a U.S citizen, if he old enough to run for president, or even if he was a real person at all, and he fully blamed the carelessness of everyone else for the mix up. Apparently, it didn’t take much trickery to fool the old men in office, as he’d done it with ease.

    Spot sorted through the endless stack of files on the desk, seeing his “name” in immaculately typed script on each one, trying to make sense of the duties he’d be taking over. This is a fucking fever dream, he thought to himself, holding back a cry of frustration as he caught the word deadline for the five hundredth time. He wasn’t quite sure how he was going to get himself out of this mess- it wasn’t as if you had to have some sort of permit to run for president, and somehow America had welcomed Cot Sponlon with open arms, most claiming that he was the best fit to lead the country. Make America Gay Again was the slogan he’d chosen- a take on some fat orange bastard’s battle cry that was somehow endearing to weirdos like himself everywhere.

    No matter the fact that he had dropped out of college at age twenty, that most of his former schoolteachers were surprised he ever learned how to read, much less create a lie so elaborate that he could fool the entire world. It would only take a bit of common sense for it all to come crashing down, for him to be exposed as the clueless leader he was. 

    A banner hung above his small desk- one that read: Cot Sponlon, 2024. Staring up at the brightly printed letters, disbelieving of his own stupidity, Spot made up his mind to keep going with this, even if it was just to see how far he could fuck over the country before they realized he was a fake.

    And, who knows, maybe I could make a difference, Spot thought to himself, suppressing a laugh as he continued to flip through the never-ending paperwork, the name he’d created destined to lead him far into the world of politics he’d never truly meant to sign up for.

Information About Our Candidate:

Name: Cot Sponlon

Age: Twenty-two

Campaign slogan: Make America Gay Again

Political Party: Democrat

College Degrees: None

Interviews and more to come soon! Feel free to ask questions to Mr. Sponlon through the ask box!

#newsies #spot conlon #cot sponlon for president 2024 #cot sponlon #this is purely satire and means no support for the MAGA assholes #Just thought I’d add that #Cot Sponlon for president #Cot Sponlon 2024 #Cot Sponlon lore

[onlymingyus]

Birds of a Feather (teaser)

pairing; joshua hong x f reader

genre; smut (minors dni), fluff, crack

warnings; university au, alcohol, drug use (marijuana), food/drink, betting, bad jokes, borrowed memes, simp!joshua, jealousy/possessive nature, irresponsible use of a hot tub and a friend's personal space, slight dom!joshua, mild dom/sub dynamics, pet names, sex health/birth control talk, unprotected sex, breast play, pinning/man handling, dirty talk, oral (m & f receiving/giving), 69, scratching, crying, size kink implied, exhibition kink implied -- as always I'm sure there is something I've left out.

w/c; 14.3k (800 and some change -- this teaser)

a/n; first of all thank you so so much to my dear @onlyhuis for proofreading this and thank you for literally being the reason it exists. this is based on a true story -- names have been changed for privacy and it's not completely true but bird kid should find a new place to live. thank you to @wonwussy for helping me come up with an amazing title, also without june, @highvern, @shuadotcom, and @horanghater just know this fic would have sucked majorly. thank you so much for helping me figure out my shit and adding so much to this.

this fic will be released sunday 3/17 at 3 pm est to read it now subscribe to my patreon and click here

Joshua rubs the sleep out of his eyes as he leans his forearm against his door, looking down at the cute girl standing in his dorm room. You were holding a clipboard and had a look somewhere between serious and annoyed on your face. 

“Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you up.” 

You hadn’t had the chance to meet every single resident in your hall but today you were making some very interesting discoveries. For example, apparently Eros lived just five doors down and he slept in late. Clearing your throat, you look down at your clipboard in an attempt to hide how shy his gaze is making you feel. 

“I’m Y/N; would you sign my petition to evict the bird kid? I know that sounds harsh but just to get him to, like, get his own place off campus with his bird.” 

His lips pulling up into a small grin, Joshua watches you start to ramble about your cause as you tap your pen against the paper attached to the clipboard. It seems you have several signatures so far. He had heard about this bird kid and he had also heard the bird in question several times. 

“Sure, I’ll sign it. Anything to get him to stop letting the damn thing use the water fountain as a bird bath.” 

Joshua watches as your eyes lift towards him again as he agrees with you. With the clipboard securely in his hands, you scoff in agreement, lifting your hands to express how important your argument was. 

“Right?! It’s gross. I drink out of that fountain. I mean, I used to...“

Nodding, Joshua signs his name and offers you back the clipboard before resting his shoulder on his door frame. You watch his smile pull to one side before he furrows his brows and gestures over his shoulder. 

“My roommate is still passed the fuck out but I’m sure he will sign too. Swing back by later and catch him when he’s actually breathing.” 

Pulling the clipboard to your chest, you press your lips together, trying to keep your eyes on the man’s face even as you feel them being drawn to where his t-shirt was straining around his bicep. Clearing your throat, you lean back a bit and glance down at his name, whispering it to yourself before nodding and daring to look back up to find Joshua still watching you.

“Okay… I’ll do that, Joshua.” 

Turning towards the next door, you pull your eyes from his handsome face even as Joshua leans out of his doorway to watch you, lifting his hand to wave. 

“Good luck with your petition, Y/N. See you later.” 

Groaning into his drool soaked pillow, Lee Chan forces himself to turn over and look towards his roommate, who was standing in the doorframe watching the hallway. He liked Joshua; if anything, the man was more like a brother than a roommate at this point but he was talking far too loudly for a Saturday morning. 

“That has to be a girl if you are acting like a simp this early.” 

Rolling his eyes, Joshua shuts the door behind him, turning towards the younger man and shooting him a look before reaching for one of the bottles of water and tossing it towards him. Despite usually having great eye to hand coordination, Chan hisses in pain when the bottle manages to meet his chest instead of in his hands. 

“And? Your point? Drink your water; I’m sure you have one hell of a headache.” 

Chan wasn’t going to argue with Joshua on that point. He did have a headache that could rival all other headaches. He couldn’t remember much of the night after their friend Seungcheol had shown him where the punch bowl was and challenged him to a “drink off.”

Reaching for the pain medicine on his nightstand, Chan groans, trying to open the bottle as Joshua watches, only to sigh and take it from his hands, doing it for him. Muttering a thanks, Chan takes the bottle back, leaning back onto his bed to take the medicine, looking up at the ceiling. 

“Who was the girl?” 

Pursing his lips, Joshua falls back on his bed, trying to hide the small smile on his lips, thinking about the short interaction with you and how cute you had been. It wasn’t like anything had even happened or that there would be anything that would come from it but it was nice meeting a new neighbor so to speak. 

“Uh, she said her name was Y/N. She’ll be back around later. Told her you’d sign her petition.” 

Chan’s brows furrow at Joshua’s words as he lifts his hand to wipe at his mouth, water starting to run down towards his chin. 

“What? Why would I do that?” 

“Because it’s not that big of a deal and you’ll agree with it. It’s about that dude who has a bird. Something about getting him to move off campus with it.” 

Making a face at the mention of the bird, Chan feels his headache behind his eyes, even thinking about the squawking that could be heard late at night and early in the mornings. 

“You’re right. I’ll fucking sign it. I’ll forge names. I’ll help the son of a bitch move.” 

READ THE FULL FIC NOW ON PATREON

© onlymingyus - all rights reserved. Reposting/modifying of any fic, or pieces of original writings posted on this blog is not allowed. Translations not allowed

#joshua smut #seventeen smut #svthub #svt smut #joshua hong smut #seventeen fluff #seventeen crack #joshua fluff #joshua crack #joshua hong crack #joshua hong fluff #seventeen x reader #joshua x reader #joshua hong x reader #svt x reader #svt fluff #svt crack

[mangoshorthand]

Arrow of Time: Chapter 3 [Five Hargreeves/ F Reader]

(Hard Feelings Part 5)

SUMMARY: When the mother of all teenage tantrums causes time itself to fracture, Five has to travel back to 1831 to repair the damage. But will he be able to cope with what he finds there? Chapter 4 >> << Back to Chapter 2

A panicked Five calls for help.

Author dicking around with tense to come. Proceed at your own risk.

Chapter 3: Déjà vu

Five’s shout and forward lurch barely registered to Aoife, far too busy staring at the place her mother vanished.

“Mom! Mom?”

Her head turned uselessly, looking to her father with eyes begging him to make it all okay.

“Dad! I didn’t…I didn’t mean.”

But Five ignored her, already feeling around in the air at the point where his wife was only a moment previously.

“Dad, I’m s-”

“Quiet, kid.” he murmured, face screwing up in concentration. Something was wrong…and he couldn’t get a read on it; couldn’t sense its logic. It wasn’t like the nonsense portals she produced when she was in her mother’s womb: the electrical signatures of those were alive with dissonant, illogical calculations: all correct in their constituent parts, but gibberish as part of the whole. This? All he got was resounding silence.

Ok: it was time for plan B. He marched over to Aoife and reached for her, making her flinch, but he only grabbed her upper arm in one hand.

“D-dad?”

He clenched his other fist and summoned the power necessary to turn back the seconds…but nothing happened. There’s no contraction to step into : no thickening of the atmosphere allowing time itself to become pliable. He’d only experienced this once before: when he’d arrived in his father’s custom-made universe and found himself without his powers. 

“Come on,” he murmured, trying again and finding himself unsuccessful again. Aoife, realizing what he was trying and failing to do, began to panic, crying in high pitched little squeaks. No doubt she would bruise from Five’s fingers, cutting painfully into her upper arm in his own fear.

“Hey, are you guys okay up there?” came Diego’s voice.

Aoife started to cry fully now, sniffling and sobbing. Five released her, brain racing a mile a minute. Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong. He breathed hard a few times though his nose, trying to ground himself and not give in to the feeling of his heart thudding in his head.

“No!” he yelled in the direction of the door, “It’s not good. I need help!” 

At the sound of heavy footballs as Lila, Diego and Luther approached at speed, Five finally made eye contact with his daughter. The abject fear in them pulled at his heart, even as his anger towards her grew… but he knew yelling would do no good. He had to keep his mind on the top priority.

Experimentally, Five made a short blink to the other side of the room as Diego opened the door.

“What’s going on?” his brother asked, entering the room with his wife and Luther. When he spotted Aoife’s red, tear-streaked face, he went to her immediately, “you ok, mija ?”

The tears came thick and fast then as Aoife laid her head on her Uncle’s chest. It wasn’t as comforting as if it was Dad, but Dad might not want to comfort her right now.

“Something’s seriously fucked up here,” Five rumbled, staring past the men and straight at Lila: probably his only hope. 

“What’s going on?” she said, business-like.

“I’ll tell you what’s going on, Lila. My daughter’s been playing around with time-travel. She pushed her mother into a portal and I can’t undo it. My time travel capacity is kaput. Nil. Fucked. All I can do is blink.”

His arm spasmed towards his face, slapping himself in the forehead in frustration. He did it slightly harder than seemed appropriate in instinctive self-punishment. 

“Woah there, Five,” said Luther. His voice was kind; quiet. It was understanding in a way that Five would have resisted were his brain not racing on other matter. 

In a flash of inspiration, he looked between Aoife and Lila, “both of you: tell me what you feel. Does something feel wrong to you? Time-wise, I mean?”

“You know I don’t touch the time stuff, old man,” said Lila, hands held up in surrender, “I wouldn’t know what I was feeling for.”

Aoife let go of Diego and took several deep breaths to calm herself. She closed her eyes and concentrated as if she was under her covers practicing short temporal jumps…but there was nothing there.

Trembling, she looked up at Five, “It feels wrong.”

He breathed out through his nose: it confirmed his own feeling. He bagan to pace, sweeping now-sweaty hair out of his eye. For the moment, he continued to ignore Aoife’s sniffles. He was running out of options; running out of opportunities…and he was starting to feel it again: he was backed into a corner, fighting against walls closing inexorably inwards. An icy hand gripped his heart. 

“I’ll be two minutes,” he snapped, blinking out of the room.

When he vanished, Aoife sobbed loudly and fell back into Diego’s arms. He rubbed her hair gently, like he did when she was a baby, looking between Lila and Luther for help. Luther shrugged with wide eyes and Lila looked irritated at the implied question: I know as much as you, shit-for-brains.

“So what happened?” asked Luther, gently but uncertainly.

“I did something to Mom!”

Her shaky breaths overtook speech momentarily and Diego soothed her gently. Lila approached and placed a hand on her arm. When she caught her breath again, it all came tumbling out.

“I’ve been practicing time jumps at night and I got pretty good. But then, today, Mom and Dad were yelling at me about it and I pushed Mom off me and…and I just…I don’t know what I did but she’s gone. She got…swallowed up! And I think I…I think I broke something.”

“You broke something?” Luther’s face darkened further with concern, leaning towards her in an attempt to identify a fractured extremity.

“She doesn’t mean a bone, moron,” said Lila.

 “Right, you,” she continued, turning to Aoife with raised, imperious eyebrows that commanded her attention, “you've got to pull yourself together: nobody ever saved their mum by whining.”

“Lila,” muttered Diego, still keeping one arm around his niece, “give the kid a break.”

Though Aoife was the same height as Lila, the size of the latter’s presence was always twice her stature.She grabbed one of Aoife’s hands and looked her straight in the eye.

“We’ll get her back, okay?”

Five wanted to pace around the study, (he wanted to kick the shit out of something actually), but he didn't have time. Every second might  be putting him further beyond solving this mess, might separate you from him irrevocably. He needed to work out what the hell was going on, fix it, grab you and get you home. You had to be somewhere. You had to be. 

He picked up a pen and scrawled a quick SOS. He was only surprised that Herb hadn't come already. What did it mean? Herb had promised to exhaust every available avenue before putting out another kill order on his family but Five had hoped to keep both of you squarely out of the firing line. Aoife would always be protected here, (he knew his brothers and Lila would fight tooth and nail to keep her safe), but you were in the wrong time or the wrong place or whatever. Even as he considered this, temporal assassins might be being mobilized. And that was honestly the best case scenario: what if you were nowhere? What if you were dead?

Hands shaking, he rolled the note into a scroll and wrenched open the panel concealed in the side of the mantel. Inside, the pneumatic pipeline waited for his communication, a store of canisters below. He seized one, unscrewed it deftly and shoved the paper haphazardly inside. Screwing the lid back on took far too long but he managed it and shoved the canister into place, slamming the seal onto the pipeline with more violence than haste.

But there was no answering suck to take the tube away to the Commission’s HQ. The canister stayed precisely where it was: uselessly in his pipeline. Disbelieving, Five removed the seal and slammed it home again: nothing. Removed it, slammed it, nothing.

“SHIT!”

He slammed the seal onto the pipeline again, again and again, getting more agitated each time it didn’t work. He could feel his teeth grinding, a vein throbbing in his temple.

“No. No! NO! LILA!?”

In under a second, Lila. Diego and Luther blinked into the room, dragged along by Aoife. Diego staggered away from the group, as usual looking as if he was about to barf.

“THE FUCKING STUPID FUCKING PIPELINE, LILA!”

“Calm down! Jesus, Five.”

She took the canister from him and pushed him a few steps away from the pipeline’s hidden cabinet. Five tried to slow his rage-panicked breathing as Lila tinkered with it, trying to get the canister to go. Recovered, Diego again held Aoife tightly to his side. All of them watched Lila, Aoife with pure terror.

Just as Luther approached to place a comforting hand on Five’s upper arm, he shrugged him off and began to pace, finally giving in to the urge. He’d been cut off once before, when the fetal Aoife’s nonsense portals had got her mother on the Commission’s hit list…but this wasn’t like that. The pipeline had been completely gone that time and Herb had sent him a final message to apologize. This…this wasn’t right.

“Yeah,” said Lila, even more worried now, “this pipeline is well and truly fucked.”

Even more dread filled Five as he caught Aoife’s eyes. He knew what this meant. Not again…it couldn't be happening again; he didn’t have it in him anymore. He was too old, too tired of staying one step ahead of impending doom. He’d had over a decade of rest but it just wasn’t enough and it never would be.

“What does it mean?” Luther asked, all of them looking to Five. He didn’t respond:  a  dull certainty flooding through him: he had to whether he wanted to or not. For Aoife and for you, he had to fight it whatever it takes.

To confirm his own dark conviction, he reached for the lower drawer in what was once his father’s desk and took out the Temporal Ambimeter he’s shown Aoife the previous week. He placed it on the desk and, sure enough, the needle representing absolute temporal polarity rolled loose on the dial measuring relative time.  

He was right: they’re screwed. And, again, it’s his fault.

He lifted his impossibly heavy hand to his face, squeezing his eyes closed behind the fingers he pressed hard into them.

“Dad?”

Her voice was small and, like a fine diamond-tipped knife, punctured his despair. He took a couple of deep, centring breaths before spreading his arms wide.

“ Vieni da me .”

She didn’t need to be told twice, blinking from Diego’s side and into his tight hug. He rested his chin gently on the top of her head and spoke comfort into the crown of her head.

“Dad, I’m so sorry !”

“I know, I know. Va bene, bambina. Va bene.”

“I want my Mom!” her tears soaked through his dress shirt as she said it. He rocked her gently and kissed her again. Just a kid. Not her fault.

“I know, sweetie. I know.”

Diego, confused and worried by Five’s lightning-fast change from rage to tenderness, spoke up now:

“Five, what the hell is happening here?”

He looked at his brothers and sister-in-law over the top of Aoife’s head. 

“Short answer: we’re on timeline-break highway heading to apocalypse-city.”

“Fuuuck,” Lila moaned.

“If you want the long answer, then Aoife accidentally knocked time itself off-kilter .” 

He continued to rock and caress his crying daughter, reassuring her without words. He liked to think that nothing would shake her security in how much he and her mom loved her but something like this, that was technically her fault, (even if it was his fault, really)? Anybody would beat themselves up over it. 

“I don’t know how,” he continued, “but it’s become...uncoupled from whatever keeps it on a level...mathematically sound, I mean.”

Lila looked grave.

“And what does that actually mean, grandpa? What's going to happen?” snapped Diego, as usual having little time for ideas that aren’t cut, dry and concrete.

“I don’t know,” Five snapped right back, “it’s unprecedented; absolutely illogical. I didn’t think it was possible. It means that my power won’t work properly, even to wind back a couple of seconds. It means the Commission’s instruments aren’t working because they’re all calibrated based on the idea of time having a logical polarity. That’s why the pipeline isn’t working- Herb will be going into total meltdown.”

Lila, understanding him first, finished for him.

“So…we’re living on borrowed time, right? Until someone cocks up the timeline so badly that they blow us all up or kugelblitz us into oblivion.”

Five pointed at her in a ‘ you got it’ gesture, “Bingo.”

“Shit.” muttered Luther

“But what about Mom?” 

Five’s chest hurt as she spoke the words.

He couldn't tell her what he knew: Aoife producing the exact same portal was the only hope to get you back and the only hope to fix this. There were no calculations he could do any more: no way to replicate what she did unless she did it herself. If she couldn’t do it then you’re lost for good…and the clock was ticking on the entire world (or it would be if the clocks could tick properly). It’s an option he didn’t allow himself to fully grasp. He couldn’t let it in

“I’m going to go get her.”

“Why not fix it and then go get her?” asked Diego, with uncharacteristic shrewdness.

“Because once we’ve fixed it, he won’t have a chance of finding out where she is,” LIla said, “Can’t replicate the maths on a portal with no maths. Am I right, Archimedes?”

Five nodded, ”Maybe…but I’m pretty sure that we’ll need a chronokineticist on either side of this mess to fix it.”

He stared down at the desk top for a few moments before grabbing pen and paper. 

“Give me ten minutes. I got an idea I might be able to turn into a theory.”

You land sprawled in a cobblestoned alleyway, a crack of static above your head signaling the disappearance of the portal. There’s the smell of smoke and what seems like manure. You push yourself to your feet,  the cold, uneven ground leaving sharp stones in your palms.

Staggering slightly, you look back up to where you fell and call, hands cupped over your mouth.

“Aoife? Five?”

Leaning against the alley wall, you can see only gray sky: not a hint of electricity: no self-contained storm of a way home. You jog down the alleyway and into the street, jostling indignant pedestrians and nearly falling down again as you run haphazardly into a horse…a horse pulling a coach along with three others. You fall onto the sidewalk in a sitting position, attracting stares from passers by and a “watch it, you damn lunatic!” from the irate coachman, trying to get his worried horses back under control.

You scramble up again, backing onto the sidewalk. It’s disorientating: bells, hoofbeats, the clack clack of wooden wheels on cobbles, the chatter of pedestrians, especially those staring at the frantic woman having fallen into the street. Desperate now, you look wildly around.

“Five?”

A man wearing a long coat ushers a group of gawking women away from you, forcing them to give you a wide berth as they pass. They’re all wearing long dresses, voluminous sleeves and bonnets.

Shit. This is a long time ago…they’re dressed like the women on the front of Five’s copy of Vanity Fair.

“Excuse me?” you spit out, desperately, “I’m sorry- what year is it?” 

One of the younger women giggles as the man chaperoning them scowls and puts his body in between you and her.

“Please?” you ask, looking the man straight in the face, “please help me!”

He averts his eyes and hurries the women away, “Never mind Louisa. It’s just some madwoman..”

You look down at yourself, wearing nightwear and a robe…this doesn’t look good for wherever you’ve landed. Backing up against a building lining the street, you look feverishly around for a clue. There’s a pawn shop, a bookstore, and a church. The street is lined with gas streetlights. Gigs, coaches and carriages pass by, all drawn by horses. Dogs and ragged children run free to wander the streets.

Another man walks towards you, wearing a top hat and long coat like the one who’d pulled those women away from you. He’s carrying a newspaper.

“Sir! Excuse me, sir! Can I see that newspaper, just for a second?”

More out of shock than a desire to help, he hands it over. You only need to read the date to confirm what you already know.

It's the New York Evening Post. Above all of the advertisements for ladies' corset warehouses, tutors specialising in the harp and pianoforte, and information on when the Napoleon and York ships would arrive from Liverpool, it reads:

WEDNESDAY, FEBRUARY 24TH, 1830.

Having filled the piece of paper front and back with theoretical scribblings, Five sat back in the chair, the fear flooding back into him now he couldn’t keep his mind on something methodical. 

“Okay.” he said, hiding his panic and stroking his chin. “This looks like it has legs…”

He looked up: Aoife, Lila and Diego stood, watching him expectantly. As always, when shit hits the fan, it was still Five they turned to to fix it. He was scared to show them how much he’s improvising: how little he knew for sure. Trying to project confidence he didn’t feel, he told them:

“We’re sitting on a rip in time here and we gotta fix it from either end…or maybe kinda teach it how to fix itself. Here’s the plan: Lila, you and I are going to work together from either side of the portal, Aoife, it will be your job to send me through the rip you sent Mom through and then you can just leave the rest to us.”

He picked up his paper and waved it in Lila’s direction, 

“This is going to be a matter of  rebalancing. Time wants logic: we just gotta give it something to latch onto…it’s gotta relearn the balance.”

He clapped his hands together once as he stood to resume his pacing. 

“So, we got one thing going for us: because time is a giant ball of crazy right now, when I’m on the other side, a year to me wouldn’t register to you. That means, as long as I do it at some point , you’ll feel it happening the moment I step through, right?”

Lila and Aoife nodded, though Aoife did so uncertainly. Diego and Luther still looked confused but Five carried on regardless.

“The good news is, that gives me as much time as I need to find your Mom before I assess the situation from the other side. Then, I sit down and I work it out.”

“But didn’t you just work it out?” sputtered Diego, gesturing to Five’s sheet of paper with irritation.

Five sighed impatiently, “I worked out the THEORY. I didn’t work out how to put it into practice. I’m going to need to be there to do that. What part of ‘ it needs one of us on either side’ aren’t you getting?”

“Pretty much all of it.”

“Well,” Five said, losing patience very quickly, “I just thank the sweet Lord that this plan doesn’t include your dumb ass.”

“Five.” chastised Luther

Diego looked as if he wanted to snap back, but Lila spoke over him, sidling over and placing a hand on his chest.

“Ignore him sweetie. He's just antsy because his carer’s not around.”

Diego mumbled something about kicking Five’s ass but held his peace when Luther gave him a pained look that begged him to be patient with him. Five continued,

“Lila, all you need to do is stand near where I vanish and mimic me. Plug into my frequency and just spit it back towards me.”

“Roger that,” she barked, giving a sarcastic salute.

Five looked steadily at Aoife. 

“Aoife, when the time comes, you just gotta do the exact same thing to me as you did to your Mom. Just shove me through, don’t think about it too hard. Sound okay?”

She nodded slowly and then immediately shook her head.

“W-what if I can’t?”

“You can.” he said, simply, flashing her a bracing smile. He couldn’t let any seed of doubt sprout in her head….or in his own.

“Right.” he said, keeping the smile hoisted on his face, “I’m going to need a gun, some of Dad’s tackiest antiques and a warm coat.”

Tag list: (please comment to be added or removed.) @dilfjohhny , @sunsunhe, @w4stedtr4sh, @nevbrooke-555, @theredvelvetbitch, @td-miley01, @five-hxrgreeves, @rorygi1more, @jamiebower88

On to Chapter 4 >> Masterpost

#the umbrella academy smut #the umbrella academy five #the umbrella academy imagine #the umbrella academy #umbrella academy x reader #umbrella academy #umbrella academy smut #umbrella academy number five #umbrella academy five x oc #number five imagine #five hargreeves smut #five hargreeves imagine #number five smut #number 5 imagine #number 5 #fanfic #ao3 writer #tua fanfic #umbrella academy fanfic #five hargreaves x oc #number 5 x oc #hard feelings #Arrow of time

[sailtomarina]

Putreuse Potion Confessions

“George, you can’t keep doing this!” Hermione’s shrill cry rang through the flat. It was surprising her voice carried at all given the clutter of books and WWW prototypes filling every room. 

Granted, most of the books were hers. She told herself it couldn’t be helped, what with the way the twin took up every other available space with his “treasures” and “projects”. You might even think he lived above the Weasley shop by himself, but no. He had a roommate, and her name was Hermione Granger.

She wondered whether or not the flat had looked similar before her desperation led her here. Hermione had been so distracted by her own drama at the time that she hadn’t really paid attention to her surroundings.

“George!” she yelled once more. She knew he wasn’t downstairs. He always took his lunch break at this time.

The cauldron currently sitting in the bathroom–their only bathroom–bubbled terrifying shades of puce and chartreuse.

Whatever had possessed the French to actually like these colours once upon a time?

She shook away the errant thought. That wasn’t the point. What was the point was that the bubbling looked volatile. She’d stake her Advanced Potions N.E.W.T. that whatever he was brewing should not be reacting like this. If he didn’t show up soon, she would be forced to act.

Sod it.

She’d try a Stasis charm and hope for the best.

“Wait, wait, wait!” George’s shout came just as her wand started its movement, and she froze in place like she was the one stuck in time before slowly turning her head to glare at him.

“What. Is. This?”

He gulped. He stood only a few feet away, hand outstretched. Their face-off lasted all of five seconds before she let her wand drop to her side. George sighed in relief.

“It’s an experiment.” He startled at the growl that escaped her throat, and hastily continued to explain. “We ran out of room in the lab, and I was going to check on it during my break.”

“Well, it doesn’t look good,” she said, stepping back and waving him forward. She breathed in as he brushed past her, taking in the scents that were uniquely George. Smoke from frequent explosions. Honey from his tea. Sandalwood from his soap she sometimes borrowed when she ran out of her own, and sometimes when she just felt like it. “What’s it supposed to be anyway?”

He tutted the moment he laid his eyes on the concoction, then cast his own Stasis charm. It worked. “A twist on Veritaserum that would be safe for commercial use.”

Hermione looked at the sickly blend of colours. “Veritaserum is supposed to be clear. Tasteless. Odourless.” She slid her gaze over to the wizard. “Undetectable.”

“Like I said: safe for commercial use.” Then, to her horror, he dipped a finger into the mixture and licked it.

“George!”

“Hermione!” He mocked, hitting what he must have estimated to be her pitch and smirking at her reaction.

“You can’t just test things like that! It’s dangerous, not to mention downright stupid.”

“That’s what you’re here for, love. I couldn’t be in safer company. Or prettier.” His smug grin that spread from ear to…well, the side without an ear, dropped as he heard his own response. “Shite. I didn’t mean to say that. Though I do think it. You really are the prettiest witch I know. Also, the smartest. Good Godric, what am I saying? Make it stop!” He clapped both hands over his mouth and backed further into the bathroom as if the increased distance would somehow protect him.

“You think I’m pretty?”

While she knew in theory that she was passably decent, she never would have applied the word to herself. Her hair, her signature feature, placed Hermione far outside of the typical image of beauty. Even now, several years into adulthood, she maintained that the curls had a life of their own. George had never once commented on her looks in the past, other than to shake his head the night she’d come knocking on his door, calling her ex “a fool.” She’d moved in that same evening.

She watched in fascination as the muscles along his arms bulged in the effort to contain his answer. He wiggled, fighting the compulsion, before both hands yanked downward to reveal the strained tendons of his neck.

“I think you’re gorgeous and I want you more than anyone I’ve ever wanted in my entire life. Merlin’s saggy balls!” 

He spun around and dove through the shower curtain like a show dog passing through a hoop. Only, he was an adult man, and the tub was empty. He hit the porcelain basin with what sounded like every hard edge of his body. “Fuck!” He huddled there, tightly hugging himself.

He seemed okay otherwise. Hermione stared at the freckled skin along his bare arms for another beat, then two, and then she, too, scooped up a dollop of the potion. Before she could second guess herself, she sucked and swallowed.

It was…sweet. Like, candy-sweet. That must have been the intention, only she would need to step in and redirect him towards a more palatable array. She stepped deeper into the bathroom until her knees bumped the edge of the tub.

“George, ask me a question.”

He stilled. Peeking over his shoulder, his eyes widened when she held up one digit, still slick from her own spit. He had no way of knowing she’d trained herself to resist Veritaserum. “Did you…”

“I did. And that one doesn’t count. Ask me another.”

He slowly turned until he fully faced her. He straightened his shoulders and gazed upward, the clear blue of his eyes holding her own. “Hermione, will you go out with me?”

“Now we’re getting somewhere.” She stepped into the tub, sinking down so she basically sat in his lap. Her arms settled around his neck, catching a fistful of hair and tilting his face up. “Yes. Now kiss me.”

1000 WC exactly (tears hair out)

Written for the WWW HumpDay Drabbles, my Chaos prompts were: Weasley: George Potion: Veritaserum Trope: Roommates

Cross-posted on FB, Tumblr, and AO3

I originally included a note about Fred being alive and having moved in with Angelina, but cut it due to word limit.

#harry potter fanfiction #harry potter flashfic #Hermione Granger x George Weasley #Hermione x George #Hermione Granger #George Weasley #Geomione #Facebook: Weasley Witches & Writers

[lothiriel84]

On the Other Side from You

In the early days of her marriage, she had used to daydream of a world in which Mr Darcy did not exist, and she was still the carefree girl roaming the fields around Longbourn, with no prospect of becoming a wife and a mother anytime soon.

A Pride and Prejudice ficlet. Darcy/Elizabeth. AU to the near-kiss in the rain from the 2005 film adaptation.

Still trembling with righteous indignation from their explosive fight not two hours prior, Elizabeth marched into his study, quickly dismissing the fleeting pang of guilt at the impropriety of rifling through one’s husband correspondence without permission. After everything he had done to stand in the way of Jane’s happiness, she was most certainly not prepared to take him at his word on this matter; she needed to see Mr Bingley’s letter for herself, if only to be reassured that any undue interference on Mr Darcy’s part was entirely over.  

By now, she had long resigned herself to a lifetime with a husband she could not respect, for the sake of the child she was carrying if nothing else; but she could not, would not stand for the same fate befalling her beloved sister, and if that meant betraying her future brother’s confidence, then so be it. A rather coarse word escaped her as she struggled with the uppermost drawer of his writing desk, which appeared to have become stuck rather firmly. Eventually, she managed to extract a somewhat wrinkled envelope from underneath it, and was about to toss it in with the rest when her eyes fell on her own name – her real name, as she thought of it, though she had been forced to relinquish it in favour of her husband’s – penned very neatly in Mr Darcy’s own elegant hand.  

She stared at the letter for a good five minutes before she could make up her mind whether she should open it. For all that she had come in here with the express intention to peruse some private correspondence that was never meant for her eyes, this felt like a graver transgression for some reason she could not fully explain, not even to herself. For all that it was unmistakably addressed to her, it had also very clearly been sitting at the bottom of a drawer for the past few months, and she could not surmise Mr Darcy had truly meant for her to read it.  

In the end, it was the uncomfortable suspicion that its contents might relate to her greatest shame that prompted her to tear the seal open, and unfold two sheets of paper covered in her husband’s handwriting which Miss Bingley had once praised at some length. Whatever she had been expecting, it had been nothing like this; by the time she reached his final blessing and flowing signature, she was crying bitter tears of regret for how sorely she had misjudged the way things stood between Mr Darcy and Mr Wickham.  

Her heart ached for her new sister – poor Georgiana, how much she had suffered at the hands of one she had considered a friend her entire life – and swift on its heels, a renewal of her shame at how unpardonable her conduct had been, and with far less inducement than a sweet, innocent fifteen-year-old had been subjected to. Not for the first time since their hasty marriage, she found herself revisiting her memories of that fateful morning, when she had spurned Mr Darcy’s offer of marriage so vehemently, only to immediately succumb to a physical longing so potent she had never known the likes of it before.  

The ungentlemanliness of his conduct back then paled in the face of her own shocking wantonness in allowing him such liberties with her person, against all reason and judgement. When she had been forced to seek him out, later, as the reality of her condition became more and more apparent, she had been tempted to put all the blame on him, only to discover that she could not, in all conscience, allow such deceit to take place. She might despise him and resent the consequences of his actions, but she could not forget how in the madness of the moment she had not only failed to refuse him, but rather fully encouraged his attentions.  

And now Jane and Bingley were about to marry, while she had perhaps ruined her every chance at finding some modicum of happiness in this marriage she had been forced into by circumstances alone. Arms wrapped protectively around her growing midsection, she sank further into her husband’s particular chair, and prayed that there was still time for her to make amends, perhaps even begin anew in the arduous task of carving out a life for themselves, together.  

.

“Do not fret yourself so, Mrs Darcy,” Mrs Reynolds was vainly trying to soothe her, as she had been attempting to do for the better part of the day. “The Master will surely arrive in time for dinner, or at least send word if he finds he’s unable to.” 

Still, dinnertime came and went, with no hide nor hair of her husband to be seen, and nobody the wiser of his whereabouts except that he had sent for his horse as soon as she had declared their argument to be over, and rode out in a temper in no clearly discernible direction. Elizabeth was beside herself with worry by then, and could not be persuaded to take any sustenance, not even for the sake of her child. In the early days of her marriage, she had used to daydream of a world in which Mr Darcy did not exist, and she was still the carefree girl roaming the fields around Longbourn, with no prospect of becoming a wife and a mother anytime soon; but now, she found she could not bear the thought of any harm ever coming to her husband, who had been nothing but unflinchingly kind to her in the face of her barely disguised animosity, and had placed no demands whatsoever on her, save for what little he deemed necessary for the sake of their unborn child.  

She remembered how she had very nearly shouted to his face, before he turned on his heels and stalked out of the room, that he had better pray for this child to be a boy, for she would rather die than let him touch her ever again; how she wished her cutting words unsaid now, as she paced from room to room with a distressed Mrs Reynolds in her wake, who vainly begged her mistress to lie down and get some rest, for it would not do to overexert herself in her condition. As angry as Mr Darcy had undoubtedly been upon leaving the house, it was not like him to disappear in such a thoughtless manner without informing anyone of his staff, his faithful housekeeper most particularly; therefore, Elizabeth could only surmise something must have happened to him, and she knew she would never forgive herself if her earlier outburst had caused him any harm, directly or otherwise.  

When it became clear that there was very little which could be done in the way of locating Mr Darcy considering the lateness of the hour and the unfavourable weather – autumn had brought dense mists all over Derbyshire, and Pemberley in particular – Elizabeth allowed herself to be escorted to her chambers, where she proceeded to cry herself to sleep until the early hours of the morning. By breakfast time, she felt like she could not bear the wait any longer, and was resolved to join the search party that had been scouring the grounds since the break of dawn; she was in the middle of arguing her right as the Mistress of the house to do as she pleased, disregarding each and every one of Mrs Reynold’s perfectly sensible objections to such an imprudent course of action on her part, when the groundskeeper burst in to announce that the Master had been found, badly injured and still unconscious from his fall, with his faithful horse standing guard to him – but that he should live, God willing, and the doctor ought to be sent for posthaste.  

Elizabeth had a fortifying cup of tea pressed into her hands before she was finally allowed into her husband’s chambers just as he was being laid with great care on his bed; she gasped at the sight of the deep gash cutting through his temple and cheek, and though she had never uttered his Christian name before, it came naturally to her lips in a cry of heartfelt concern as she rushed to his side. She would not leave the room even when the doctor came in to examine him, could scarcely breathe until she was reassured that, though his ribs were bruised and his right knee very badly sprained, he was in no immediate danger; though only time would tell what damage his head had sustained in the impact, and for that, they needed to wait until he regained consciousness.  

The doctor then took some pains to impress upon Mrs Darcy that she ought not distress herself overmuch in her condition, and that it was her duty to look after her own health for the child’s sake. Elizabeth thanked him, though she felt no particular inclination to take his advice that she should seek bed rest for herself, and instead took what she now considered her rightful place at her husband’s bedside. As she watched over his recumbent form, unmoving save for the slight rise and fall of his chest with his every breath, she realised she had long stopped hating him – perhaps she had never truly had, not in the way she thought she did up until now.  

It was not until she was about to succumb to her bone-deep exhaustion, despite her better efforts, that she realised the nature of her feelings for him might have undergone such a fundamental change she could not have seen coming when she had found herself in the unwelcome position of having to swallow her pride and beg him to rescue her from complete ruination.  

.

By the time Mr Darcy regained full consciousness, Miss Darcy was on her way to Pemberley, accompanied by Mr Bingley and Miss Bennet. Mr Bennet’s objections to such an arrangement had not been entirely quelled by Mrs Annesley’s assurance that she would be acting as a very strict chaperone to the young couple; Elizabeth, on her part, could not entirely fault her father’s anxiety, as she knew only too well they were founded in the sharp disappointment she herself had caused him with her scandalous conduct, but was only too happy at the prospect of soon being reunited with her beloved sister, as she felt much in need of her comforting presence after the past week’s ordeal.  

As soon as the doctor had ruled out any lasting damage to Mr Darcy’s faculties, she had cast herself at her husband’s mercy, begging him for his forgiveness for everything that had transpired between them since their disastrous confrontation at Rosings, and expressing her sincere wish for a fresh start between them, for the sake of their child at least, if he could not bring himself to consider it for her alone.  

“I am only sorry to have caused you so much distress, Madam,” Mr Darcy shook his head, and winced as it only seemed to sharpen the lingering ache to his temple. “I shall endeavour to do better in the future.” 

Her eyes filled with tears as she remembered those dreadful hours she had spent fearing for his very life, and she squeezed his hand with more vigour than strictly necessary. “No more horses from now on. I forbid it.” 

“That would be hardly practical, as you may very easily surmise,” Mr Darcy sighed. Then, in one of his occasionally ill-timed stabs at humour, he offered with a small, wry smile. “Either way, might I remind you that Pemberley is not, in fact, entailed, and that by the terms of our marriage settlement you and your family will be amply provided for, regardless of whether I am survived by any child of my own?” 

Elizabeth drew back as sharply as if she had been slapped. “How can you speak so!” she cried out indignantly, placing both hands on her midsection as if to seek reassurance of her child’s continued wellbeing. She was immediately rewarded for her trouble with a firm kick to her ribs, and she doubled over as much for the surprise as she did for the pain, causing her husband to throw away his bedcovers in a bid to rush to her aid.  

“I am well,” she said decisively, pushing at his shoulder until he lay back down against the pillows. “Your heir is just as troublesome as you are, that is all.” 

“I feel sure it is a girl,” he promptly shot back, though his manner was far from confrontational. “A little Miss Darcy, with her mother’s liveliness and her sparkling eyes.” 

“Then I shall be sorry for you, Sir,” she told him demurely, for she longed to resume their previous conversation about the matter, though she did not know how to go about it.  

Mr Darcy quickly averted his eyes. “You need not be. I may not be proud of the reckless, ungentlemanlike manner in which I imposed upon you, but you may rest assured that, boy or girl, this child will be loved most fiercely, regardless of the accidents of its conception.” 

“I know,” she nodded, a soft smile touching her lips. “I can tell from the way you look at Georgiana, when you think no one can see you.” 

A pained look crossed her husband’s features, and he ran his fingers through his hair in a somewhat agitated manner. “You would not believe so, if you knew to which extent I failed in my duty to protect my poor, abused sister. And if she were ever to learn the truth about the way I conducted myself with a gentleman’s daughter – it does not even bear thinking.” 

Elizabeth once more took her place at his side, gently reached for his hand and held it between her own. “I do know of it, Fitzwilliam. I found your letter, the one you wrote after – Rosings. I know I should not have, but I’m glad that I did, and I will not have you blame yourself for something that is entirely Mr Wickham’s fault.” 

“He did not – not in the way I did to you,” Mr Darcy felt the need to explain, and she held firm when he made a half-hearted attempt to extract his hand from her grasp. “My sister is still an innocent, and I am a worse cad than Wickham himself for taking such liberties with a woman who had just expressed the true extent of her disdain for me so clearly.”  

“You did nothing I did not allow you to – encouraged, even, in my brazen unmaidenliness. I am not so bitter that I will let you shoulder my own share of the blame, Mr Darcy.” 

Her husband closed his eyes, just for a moment, his fingers threading through hers in the boldest display he had allowed himself in all the months of their marriage. “Elizabeth, I – I will have you know I had never once conducted myself in such a manner before, and though you may not care for my promise, I shall not, ever, with another woman.” 

“I should hope so,” she arched her eyebrow in as haughty a manner as she could contrive, though she found it difficult to sustain the charade in the face of the earnestness in her husband’s gaze. “You may even find, in time, that your bride is not so averse to the renewal of your attentions as she previously considered herself to be.” 

For a moment there, he looked just as startled as when she had first sought him out to inform him of her increasing state; then she saw his eyes darken, and the gaze he turned upon her was so full of unrestrained longing she felt herself grow weak at the knees. “This is very cruel of you, Madam,” he stated, very formally, though the hoarseness of his tone betrayed his manner. “To make such a confession at a time when you know very well nothing may come of it, as I am still injured and you are growing ever larger with my child.” 

“I am not so large yet that my husband should find the prospect of kissing me too unappealing, I hope,” she could not help but tease him; and then she let out a small, undignified squeak as he resolutely tugged her off her chair, and very nearly caused her to topple straight onto his bruised ribs.  

This second kiss – for she was determined that only the first instance of his lips touching hers should count, though he had kept his mouth on her for the duration – came as much less of a surprise than their first, yet was considerably more pleasurable an experience for all parties involved. And if the young Darcy decided to make her presence known by wedging an elbow in such a manner as to cause maximum discomfort to both of her parents, it was quickly forgiven, her bad manners rewarded with her own share of her father’s kisses placed with diligent care on her mother’s stomach.  

#Pride and Prejudice #Pride and Prejudice (2005) #Elizabeth Bennet #Mr Darcy #Elizabeth/Darcy #alternate universe #canon divergence #unplanned pregnancy #historical inaccuracies #I don't even know #I wrote a thing #A Momentary Lapse of Reason (series)

[futurepastme]

Before the Dawn of Man in Castles Made of Sand

For the past year i've been trying to write my first fic and I barely even started at all, but from time to time I imagine a few scenes that might or not - probably not- be included on the main story and SOMETIMES I write them down anyway I can, as fast as I can. And sometimes I actually take the time to try writing something decent.

So here is a scene that I though of that supposedly is part of the fic I'm writing but will never happen: ≈2.5k words

Three hundred-ish years ago, the first King of Camelot, King Bruta, signed a very detailed peace treaty with the King of Essetir, Éamonn. It wasn’t a ‘now-we-are-buddies’ agreement or a ‘you’re-in-trouble-let-me-help’ agreement, no, it was a ‘keep-our-shit-to-ourselves’ agreement.

Bonded by blood magic, the treaty stated that as long as a descendant of both the original kings set on the throne of their respective kingdoms, no acts of war, military or otherwise, would be allowed between their kingdoms on penalty of the immediate interruption of the lives of the current rulers and all of their living relatives. 

A complete ending of the bloodline, with no one left to salvage it in any way.

The treaty was signed by both Kings and any living heirs they had, so as to make sure that the bloodline was completely bounded by the contract. 

The magic, though, had an expiration date. It was powerful, ancient magic, but as the seasons change and the days turn to night, magic, too, is frail against the will of time, and as it passes it would slowly fade into nothingness.

It was stated then at the bottom of the contract, just before the fancy signatures with the swirling loops, that when the time should come for the magic to disappear, both Kingdoms’ current rulers should reunite in a meeting for the reinforcement of the spell and a renewal of the contract. ♦

Some would say that Merlin ran out of time. Which was clearly an exaggeration seeing as he still has plenty of time left. No, really, he still had like, at least five hours before things really go to shit. That’s what he thought, anyway.

But some people, well, everybody but Merlin, would say that he ran out of time a week ago, when the announcement was made; or four days ago when the party was ready to leave and Merlin sat on his horse; or even yesterday when they were still outside of the Kingdom, camping for the night.

But no, he definitely still has a few hours. The party still wouldn't even be able to see the castle for another three, and they wouldn’t reach the lower town for another half hour after that.

Merlin was out of time.

He sat on his saddle, restlessly sweating his nerves out. If Arthur could see him, he would order him to stop, ask what is wrong and call him a girl, all in a single phrase. Arthur couldn't see him, though.

If this were a simple hunting trip, Merlin would be by his side, chattering his ears off and completely disregarding every royal protocol ever written in the history of mankind. But this was a Royal Camelot Party led by King Uther himself, which, of course meant that Merlin was far off the back riding along with the rest of the servants of the Royal Household. 

Which meant that he could barely even see Arthur’s stupid golden hair, let alone talk to him about anything.

So, the battle plan, now that he still had plenty of time was that he would avoid everything and everyone that has a mouth or ears or eyes, run for Arthur’s assigned chambers, tell him everything without crying at all and then pray that he could leave said chambers alive and sane. And with his heart unscathed. 

It is not every day you tell your master, friend and secret crush that not only your existence is illegal in his father’s kingdom, but you are actually royalty yourself. Royalty of the kingdom they were currently at.

So, Merlin was having a great day, and a stressless week.

And it only got better when the knights arrived.

A small party of seven men, dressed in armor very similar-looking to the ones from Camelot, the only apparent difference being the blue capes and the lack of a royal crest on the chest piece, slowly approached, led by an almost completely gray-haired knight with dark eyes and an almost charming smile.

“Welcome to Essetir, your Majesty, Your Highness. I’m Sir Griogair, we are here to safely escort your Majesty and your party to the gates of the keep.” Merlin hastily pulled his hood and sank lower on the saddle. 

Griogair was, in Merlin’s opinion, a slimy little man greedy with power, he has loathed the guy since the day he sat foot in Essetir, every hair on his body reacting with the man’s disgusting nature. But of course, ‘bad feeling’ wasn’t a good excuse not to knight the bravest looking guy his father had seen in years. Especially when you are only thirteen and don't know better yet.

He deserved credit, though, for Griogair was, at the time and still, a very handsome man with charms to spare. He had won over almost everyone in the keep within the week, was knighted within the month, and when Merlin left, he was one of the most high-ranked knights of the kingdom.

But now, for the looks of it, and from the few words he managed to hear all the way from the back, Griogair was not only a First Assembly Knight, and a Dragon Rider of the Kingdom, but has snatched for himself the position of War Mage.

That meant that not only the fucker had learnt magic, but it was skilled and powerful enough to be able to qualify for the position and now could use it freely on behalf of the kingdom. It also meant that, when in mission out of the keep, he would be responsible for dealing with the magical creatures and beings that lived within the borders of the kingdom, interfering as necessary.

Also, that meant that the bastard had clearly taken advantage of Merlin’s absence to ensure the one position Merlin could and would have stopped him from getting. 

Anger aside, Merlin took a second to recompose himself and to try to identify the other knights that came with Slimy Griogair. He knew his father wouldn’t send a bunch of low-ranking knights to deal with burn-innocents-at-a-pyre-for-fun Uther Pendrasshole and his entourage.

The three knights that rode on the left side of Slimy Griogair he couldn’t see. Actually, he barely couldn’t see the Snake himself, which he was equally parts glad and concerned.  

Of the other three knights that he could see, two he failed to recognize. 

But at the front, riding almost side by side with Griogair, he caught a glimpse of curly snow-white hair. Sir Llywelyn was by far his closest knight, 5 years older than himself, the man was a true friend and a fierce knight. 

Ending his quick inspection of his men, Merlin lowered his head further, letting the hood blind his vision fully and trusting his horse to follow the others. Friend or foe, Llywelyn or Griogair, it didn’t matter, Merlin had to get home unrecognized by either of them or the other knights.

♦

At this point in his life, one would think Merlin was used to things not going as planned. From magical creatures that appear from nowhere to bandit attacks, Merlin’s day never went as he expected since the day he decided to leave home and follow his magic to the great unknown. The great unknown that led to Camelot and to the unending headache that his life became.

You would think that somebody as powerful and as used to ambushes as Merlin would have been able to feel the approach of a huge flying magical creature, but he had better things to worry about then to be attacked by his own dragon.

The betrayal, honestly.

They had been on the road for another hour since his knights joined Camelot’s Party. Merlin still had his head down, but now his hooded cape had a small spell that kept his hoodie from falling unless he wanted it down.

He was bored. Not only far away from Arthur and from Leon, but he still had to ride at George’s side.

The man has been rambling on for hours about all that was known of Essetir culture and servants’ etiquette, which wasn’t much, but he somehow managed to stretch a 3 pages lost-through-time knowledge into a 40-minute-and-still-going monologue, and also somehow made it more boring than the grain reports.

It went down really fast

One second, he was on his horse, trying to not listen to George and still stay awake, and the other he was on the ground with an extremely heavy, horse-sized, white dragon licking his face.

The second that his brain took to understand the situation was enough to hell break loose.

Camelot’s knights stood on one side, weapons drawn, ready to kill the beast, while his knights tried to protect Aithusa.

There were shouts and threats from both sides, and stupid Griogair, instead of trying to appease the situation and take the unknown Camelot servant from under the huge magic creature that he should be responsible for, no, he was aggravating the situation even more.

He had to do something, now.

By the time he got back on his feet, both sides were ready to attack each other, Arthur’s arm raised slightly, ready for the first strike.

“Enough” he said, walking to put himself between Arthur and Griogair. His voice was loud and clear. A voice of command and power, a voice he hadn’t used in years. It was the strong voice of someone born to lead legions to war. Camelot’s knights relaxed a little, if by shock or relief he didn’t know, but they kept their stance as Arthur scanned him “I’m fine, no harm done.”

He turned fully toward his knights “Lower your weapons, now.”

The problem was, Merlin was still hooded and Griogair was still an asshole “Is this how Camelot’s servants speak with their superiors?” Stupid said, while grabbing Merlin by his clothes and suspending him in midair.

“Put my servant down. Now.” Arthur commanded, his voice dangerously low and calm.

“The boy might have harmed the dragon, until I say he didn’t, he stays in our custody” Griogair, the idiot that can’t read the room, said.

That’s also when Merlin decided to let his hoodie fall.

He heard a few shocked gasps, and felt more then saw his nights stand down and lower his weapons. But nothing would make him loose the amazing sight of Griogair’s shocked face as he began paling to death. “Put. Me. Down.” He said for Griogair’s ears only.

“Y-your Highness” He dropped Merlin like he burned his hands taking half a step back, Merlin would have fallen but right now he wasn’t the clumsy servant anymore, he was the Crown Prince Merlin Ambrosius of Essetir, trained in combat from a young age, and with a political situation on his hands that could lead to war.

“Forgive me, My Lord. I hadn’t realized we were graced with your illustrious presence” His head in a low bow, but his eyes never leaving Merlin’s.

“Sir Griogair”

“It is really good to have you back, Sire. The people start to talk, you see? Rumors about your death spread, but not me, Sire. I knew better, you see? I told them all; No one in the five Kingdoms have more skill or bravery or the complete…”

“Stop talking”

The amusement Merlin felt when he first saw Sir Griogair’s shocked face had slowly diminished and was long gone. Every second that he stood there, posture straight, facing his knights in his kingdom, with the feeling of the stares of another Royal Household burning his right side; the further away he was from the happy servant he was this morning, and now the phantom weight of his crown started pressing down on his head.

“I’m sure you are aware, Sir Griogair, of my reticence towards you when my father first started rising your rank within the knights”

“I’m sure I more than proved myself, Your Highness. The king himself knows; my position was more than des…”

“I’m not done” Merlin interrupted again. His posture as straight as possible, his head held high.

“I’m aware of the King’s feelings in regards of your person; and I’m sure you somehow proved yourself to him in many occasions, my father wouldn’t reward with higher ranks a man he deemed undeserving.” Griogair has stopped bowing, straightening his body and letting a smile that was meant to be charming form on his face.

“Unfortunately,” Merlin continued “I have yet to see the actions that would grant rewards such as your high ranks, and today you have, at my eyes, failed the crown and your kingdom.” His voice was loud enough to be heard by all of the Camelot’s entourage, even George and the other servants at the back.

“Your Highness, surely I can’t be blamed for the actions of a brainless…”

“What my dragon did is irrelevant, as a knight your actions reflect on the kingdom more than anything Aithusa could possibly do, you carry our colours and is responsible for the safety and well being of every living being inside our borders, not only our citizens and creatures, but our guests as well.”

“Sire! I…” He wasn’t smiling anymore; panic was back on his face.

“Unfortunately, your actions today can’t be left unpunished, and at the absence of the king, I’ll be the one to define such punishment; my decision here will be final and would only be overruled by the King himself.”

“Please… Sire!” He fell to his knees, grabbing the hems of Merlin’s cape.

“I hope you know, Sir Griogair, that despite my personal feelings towards you, I take no pleasure in punishing you, in fact, it saddens me deeply that today I have been proven right.” Merlin truly meant that, like it or hate it, the guy was still his knight, he was still his man. “You will be happy to know that, as Crown Prince, I have not the power to permanently remove your knighthood, as it was granted by the King, however I can suspend it.”

The knights started moving behind Griogair, getting into formation. Two lines with three men each, positioned by rank in a way that put Merlin and Griogair at the center. It was the same position they took when somebody was knighted.

With everybody settled in their positions, Merlin twisted his wrist and raised his finger pointing towards Griogair’s chest.

Now, everybody from the Camelot Entourage has at least once seen a knighting ceremony, and surely, most have seen how it goes when such knighthood is removed. However, none of them has ever seen one to the likes of Essetir’s

As a Kingdom with magic at its throne, Essetir’s knighthood works differently.

The king doesn’t simply stand in a pretty room, says some inspiring words, wave around a fancy sword an BAM! you’re a knight, you may rise.

In summary, the knights are essentially bound, to the crown and to each other, by magic. It isn’t the type of bound that forcefully traps them without escape; they can choose to leave if they so desire. No, the bound is connection. It is brotherhood.

When Merlin twisted his wrist, it activated the bound. Only the King and his direct heir could activate the bound in such a way.

On every Essetir Knight’s, at the right side almost on their shoulders, now set a fist-sized symbol, a shield shaped blue light, with the Ambrosius crest. The same shield now also appeared on Merlin, except his was big enough to cover his chest completely.

The pretty crests weren’t the most impressive thing, though. For when Merling flicked his wrist, his clothes, too, changed. As the Crown Prince of Essetir, the activation of the bound by his hand is considered a matter of state; and as such, his clothes must reflect his position and his rank. That is why now, at the middle of the forest stood a Merlin in expensive looking clothing, a cape matching the ones of the knights, and most importantly, a silver circlet with blue and green gemstones.

End English not my first language

#bbc merlin #merthur #if you squint #merlinfic

[bittersweettweet]

2

Memories from the Past

One of my most vivid memories takes me back to my 4th grade, where my diary begins. It was during that time when the Islamic revolution began. For a whole five months, school was out of the question. Eventually, we returned for four months and had to take some tests.

By the time 5th grade started, the revolution had already taken place, and the fighting and wars had ceased. Our family had moved from our old house to Karimkhan Zand street, Iranshahr Street, Taghavi Ally—a wealthier part of the city. We felt like we didn't quite belong there. On the second floor of our building, a Korean family had rented a place and made it their home. The Dad worked at their embassy and the Mom used to be a stripper at a strip club that shut down after the revolution. The third floor was occupied by an art gallery, and the fourth floor housed an insurance agency.

It was during that time that we became friends with the Korean twin boys, Cho Chon Wa and Cho Chan Ya. We spent the entire summer playing with them until school started.

In that remarkable year, I was enrolled in a school called Orkideh, also known as "The Orchid." It was located on Saadi Street, close to my dad's office. Although it was quite far from where we lived, it made things easier for my dad to take us there.

On the very first day of school, I walked in with my hair styled in two neatly braided pigtails. It was a signature look that I shared with my younger sister, Liz, who was in the 2nd grade. Despite our physical differences—her fair complexion and auburn hair contrasting with my own features—we were often mistaken for twins. And without hesitation, we would always play along and proudly proclaim ourselves as such. Together, we strolled through the schoolyard during lunch breaks, feeling estranged because we had no other friends. It was hard to feel like we belonged because it was my last year of elementary school, and it seemed very temporary to put any effort into making it feel familiar.

The school felt a bit unfamiliar that year, and we kept to ourselves. Liz seemed to be struggling, perhaps due to stress. Almost every day, the teacher would call me over and make me stand in front of everyone in class. It was like being put on the spot, and it made me feel really uncomfortable. She told me that my sister Liz wasn't finishing her homework, and somehow I had to take the blame for it too. It didn't seem fair at all.

Once, I got so frustrated that I blurted out that Liz was always playing outside instead of doing her homework. I instantly regretted saying it because it wasn't nice of me. Liz started giggling, which made the teacher even angrier.

Liz's teacher was really mad and said she might kick her out of school. Liz started crying, and I was begging the teacher to change her mind. The teacher's voice got louder and louder until she was yelling. It was scary.

Then, my nice teacher, Mrs. Khoshhal, came over to see what was happening. She asked Mrs. Goodarzi, Liz's teacher, what was going on. Mrs. Goodarzi explained everything to her. Mrs. Khoshhal kindly pleaded with her to forgive Liz this time. At first, Mrs. Goodarzi didn't want to change her mind, but finally, she agreed and told Liz that this had to be the last time.

During lunch break, Liz kept begging me not to tell Mom about what happened. I promised her that I wouldn't. I reassured her that I would keep her secret. But things didn't really change much. Liz still didn't study, and I kept getting blamed for her mistakes.

Sometimes, the teacher would use a ruler to hit Liz, and that was just plain mean. I could tell that it made Liz feel really bad, even though she never showed it. She was too proud and stubborn to let anyone see how much it hurt her. It made me sad to see her going through that.

Liz had a special doll that used to cry when we hit it. It was a gift from Mom because Liz did well in first grade. But later, Grandma washed the doll, and it broke. It never cried again. Liz offered me the broken doll in exchange for me doing her homework, and I agreed to help her.

Towards the end of the school year, Liz started studying really hard, and she became an honor student. She did even better than me, despite all the trouble we went through. I was so proud of her.

My take today:

This is a long entry, so I will interrupt here. Even though Liz had her ups and downs, she never gave up. Somehow, very quietly, without anyone noticing, she worked on improving. She proved that she could do great things when she put her mind to it. And I learned that helping someone you love, like my sister, can make a big difference. We both grew from this experience, and it made our bond even stronger. Also, what the heck was up with the teachers those days?! The hitting and embarrassing, and pulling me in to solve their problems. None of it makes sense.

After school, we walked to my dad's office together. Sometimes, along the way, we would stop at a small convenience store to grab some fruit rolls or dried plums. Occasionally, we would pass by a bookstore where I would browse through intriguing greeting cards and postcards. On occasion we would invite other friends to join us. My dad would sometimes give us a little money, and whenever I had some, I would spend it on the cards that I found most beautiful or interesting. Most of them happened to be anime-themed, which I found particularly captivating.

At the office, my dad was always busy with his work. He would lead us to a separate room where we could do our homework until he finished. Sometimes, he would treat us to the most delicious sandwiches. While working on my assignments, I would often find myself drawing pictures. My favorite subjects were stunning women in exquisite dresses. My dad would proudly show off my artwork to his coworkers and boast about my talent.

Back in those days, there wasn't a single image of The Bab, the center figure of the Baha'i Faith, floating around. No one had a clue what he actually looked like. One fine day, I stumbled upon a book at the bookstore called "Fetneh Bab," which translates to "The Sedition of The Bab." And guess what was on the cover? A picture of The Bab himself!

I couldn't contain my excitement, so I rushed to the office to spill the beans to my dad. Of course, he was all like, "Nah, you must be mistaken dear" But deep down, I could tell he was curious. At the end of the day, he finally caved in and asked me to show him where I had spotted the book.

So, off we went on a little adventure with him holding my hand. We walked all the way to the bookstore, and I pointed excitedly at the book, sitting proudly on the shelf. Dad stood there, frozen, staring at it for what felt like an eternity. I could see that he was captivated by the image. Without hesitation, he grabbed the book and purchased it right then and there. But here's the thing—he asked me to keep it our little secret. Turns out, we weren't supposed to buy any publications that were created to go against our faith.

It was like our own special discovery, a secret we cherished between us. That book, with The Bab's picture on the cover, became a prized possession, known only to a select few. It was a magical moment, a glimpse of history that I would always treasure in my heart.

I really, really loved the apartment we lived in. It felt more like a big house! Sometimes, Mom and us four girls would walk to this Kentucky Fried Chicken place nearby. It was a treat because we didn't have one in our old neighborhood. Mom never ordered anything for herself, though. I guess it was too expensive for her. We usually got fries and squeezed some lemon juice on them. Yum!

My take today: I can't wipe off the image of my mom sitting across from me at KFC, watching us eat. Her sacrifice depresses me today. :(

But there was something kinda creepy about the place. See, right across from our apartment, there was this old building that nobody used anymore. Its windows were all dark and broken, and there was ivy growing all over the outside walls. We could hear strange sounds coming from there, like kids playing and sometimes even crying. It gave me the shivers!

One day, my friend Babak from our old neighborhood came to visit. He was my age, 10 years old and his parents were friends with my family for a long time. Babak was such a nice and funny kid. He would play with a ball and do silly things like throwing himself on the ground and making faces just to make us laugh.

But then, a few weeks later, something really terrible happened. Babak, his brother, and his mom were going to Ghamsar, the village my mom and his parents grew up in, to see his dad. They told us that Babak's parents were having a fight and had separated for a little while. They wanted to go to Ghamsar to try and fix things. But on their way, a big truck had a flat tire while it was going really fast. The truck lost control and crashed into their car. It was so, so tragic. They said that Babak's mom grabbed him and tried to run out of the car, but the truck ran over the car and then over them. I can't even imagine how awful it must have been. There was blood everywhere, and they found Babak's body all crushed up with his mom's. We were all devastated and sad for days.

The apartment building belonged to Mr. Monfared, who was my dad's boss. The art gallery on top of the Korean neighbors belonged to Mr. Monfared's daughter, Zhinous. But we never saw anyone going up there, and we never saw Zhinous herself. It was a really peaceful place, filled with beautiful paintings. One painting of a ballerina stood out to me, and I still remember it clearly.

Oh, and there was also an insurance office above our unit, but it was never open or used. Nobody went there to work or anything. Another thing about the apartment was that it had cockroaches. My mom didn’t like it there that much. She said even though it was bigger than the house we sold, the windows were little and it was too dark.

Those were some strange and sad times in that apartment. But it had its own kind of magic too. It was very temporary anyways for us to get back on our feet.

Still 11/08/1982

My take today: It's very strange that even though we tried to cope and make the best of our situation during that period of time, after all these years, I still feel the tension and the estranged feeling of those days. It feels unsettled, and I can't shake it off. For some reason, I remember taping a tear in my dress from the back, making it look as perfect as the original. I believe it's the first creative thought that I can remember! LOL. Also, I remember I was starting to look at colors in awe. I was beginning to pay attention to my appearance and what I wore. I felt pretty :)

#true story #diary #creativity #child development #childhood #oppression #belonging