#my son is finally back and i only had to wait more than a decade for it *cries*

[corroded-hellfire]

Red Hot - Eddie Munson x Reader

An As You Wish Story

Collaboration with the woman who makes this series possible @munson-blurbs 💚

Summary: It’s been one year since you and Eddie discovered your feelings for one another—and so much more. Now, it’s your anniversary and a romantic evening is planned. Unfortunately, life with two little boys around tends to throw some wrenches in your life—even on special nights like this.

Note: I cannot believe it’s been a year since I posted the first part of As You Wish. It was only intended to be this spicy one shot but so many people asked for a part 2 and…here we are! I can’t thank all of you enough for reading. It means more to me than you know 💜

Warnings: smut, p in v, unprotected (wrap it up), breeding kink, oral, m and f receiving, vomit, implied medical issues, age gap, older!eddie

Words: 5.3k

[As You Wish masterlist]

One whole year has passed of you being with Eddie. One year since the night he’d come home sullen after what was supposed to be a nice evening out, only to find that his deepest desire was right there waiting for him on the worn blue couch in his living room. 

Honestly, it was the night both of your wishes came true. Such dark secrets you each harbored, never thinking that the other could possibly return the feelings.  You, thinking he wouldn’t see you as anything more than a babysitter for his two kids. Him, thinking you’d never be interested in a man over a decade older than you. The spark finally lit the flame though, leading to the best year of your lives. The best year of the boys’ lives as well. Neither you nor Eddie had ever seen the kids in all around better moods than this past year—and that’s even with the divorce and custody proceedings. 

A romantic date night was planned for the one year anniversary, a date that came with some discussion at first. You had brought up that you weren’t a fan of having your anniversary with Eddie on the same day that was his wedding anniversary with Brittany. Eddie was quick to assure you that this had just been the night he and Brittany were able to get out and celebrate their anniversary—not the actual day itself. 

“Pretty sure the fun you and I had that night went past midnight, into the next day anyway,” Eddie added with a smirk.

So, the evening was planned. An intimate dinner out together while Ryan has a sleepover at his friend Charlie’s house and Luke spends the night with Wayne. 

Even though you didn’t officially live with the Munson men yet, you did spend more time than not at their apartment. A drawer in Eddie’s dresser contained a stash of your clothes, a toothbrush sat right next to Eddie’s by the sink, and if you weren’t spending the night, the boys would call up at bedtime to say goodnight to you anyway. So, it made perfect sense for you to get ready at the apartment so you and Eddie could just go together to drop Luke off and Wayne’s and then be on your way to the restaurant. 

You’re in Eddie’s room, leaning over his dresser to get a better look at your face in the mirror as you apply eyeliner. Eddie is wearing black dress pants with a gray shirt that make you want to rip them right off. He’s currently securing his hair in a low bun as you do your best not to stab yourself in the eye with the stubby little black pencil. 

Just as you finish applying mascara, you hear the soft pitter-patter of Luke’s feet headed towards the master bedroom. 

“I frew up.”

“Oh, Christ,” Eddie mumbles under his breath, swiveling on one heel. “What happened?”

Luke shrugs. “My tummy hurt and then I frew up. But I got most of it in the toilet; wanna see?”

Eddie just looks at you, twisting the mascara wand back into the tube, then back at his son. 

“Most of it?” Eddie asks.

“Mhm.” Luke scampers back to the bathroom, and you and Eddie follow reluctantly. 

Both you and your boyfriend were expecting the smell to be worse as you step into the bathroom. Your eyes are on the ground, making sure not to step in anything Luke wasn’t able to get in the toilet. 

The sick mess in the toilet—and around it—is bright red. 

“Shit.” Eddie scoops up Luke, not caring that there’s now vomit on his dress shirt. “Luke, did you have any fruit snacks today at lunch? Gushers or Fruit Roll-Ups or something like that?”

The little boy shakes his head. “Just a chocolate chip cookie.”

Eddie looks at you, horrified. It’s the first time you’ve ever seen true fear in Eddie’s eyes, and it curdles your own stomach. 

“We have to get him to the hospital,” Eddie says. His tone is urgent, but not panicked. The last thing you need is for Luke to start freaking out. 

You nod in reply, already heading out into the hall, grabbing all three of your coats from the closet and tucking them under your arm. 

Luke is clearly confused. He keeps looking back and forth between you and his father, his little brow pinching together. 

“Why are we going to the hopsital?” he asks. “I feel good!”

Famous last words, Eddie thinks. He needs both hands and feet to count the number of times his kids have claimed that they weren’t sick just moments before they inevitably crashed. 

Neither you nor your boyfriend know how to respond to Luke, so you silently help him into his coat while Eddie shrugs on his own. The keys clang as Eddie takes them off a peg by the front door and tosses them your way. Then he picks up a still-confused Luke and heads out the door.

You drive while Eddie sits in the backseat with Luke. It’s quite obvious you two adults are more stressed out than the six-year-old is. Both of you keep checking in on him but there’s no deviation from the usual Luke-ness that you know and love. 

“How do you feel?” you ask, glancing at Luke in the rear view mirror.

“I’m hungry; can we get McDonalds?”

When you arrive at the emergency room, you pick up Luke to carry so Eddie can go ahead and alert the employees at the intake desk of what’s going on. 

The biting February wind stings your nose and cheeks as you cross the parking lot, but Luke keeps chatting away as though it’s just a regular evening.

“Did you know that birds feed their babies by frowing up in their beaks?”

“Wow, you know so many things,” you manage, trying to tamper your nausea and nerves.

“That’s like if you chewed up my chicken nuggets and spit them into my mouth.”

“Yup, I’ve got the visual.”

Secretly, your insides warm up, flattered that he considers you the “mommy bird.”

“My teacher got pooped on by a bird today, but she didn’t even notice.”

He continues talking through the whole process: waiting, triage, until he’s assigned a room and asked to wear a hospital gown. The moment you step out of the room to give him some privacy, it feels as if the world outside the small room has gone silent, save for the occasional beep from medical instruments. Now it’s too quiet without Luke’s chattering. Needing to do something besides just standing there, full of nervous energy, you walk down the hall to find a payphone and call Wayne to let him know what’s going on. 

Back in the room, Eddie is trying to get his nerves under control. Nothing’s wrong, he tries to assure himself. And even if there was—which there isn’t—he’s in the best possible place he could be and surrounded by professionals who probably see all sorts of things far worse than whatever this might be. 

“Where are the pants?” Luke asks, looking like a dog chasing its tail as he tries to get a look at the back of the gown. 

“No pants,” Eddie tells him as he ties the strings together in the back for him. There’s a soft knock on the door and Eddie tugs it open. 

You step back into the room and Luke grins and holds his arms out at his sides.

“Look! I’m wearing a dress just like you!”

Despite the seriousness of the visit, you can’t help but smile. Though your purple A-line dress looks nothing like the white gown covered in blue dots that he’s wearing. 

“Now you’re my twin instead of Daddy’s,” you tease.

That makes Luke giggle, and he sits down on the bed, dangling his short legs over the side. It isn’t long before Luke is taken back for tests, most of which Eddie is allowed to accompany him for. You know that’s probably bringing far more comfort to Eddie than Luke at the moment. 

You wait back in the room, anxious thoughts getting the better of you now that you’re alone and have time for your brain to wander. There are a bunch of brochures spread out on a table, so you decide to flip through some of them, keep your mind busy. None of them seem relevant to any medical issue you’ll ever have; then again, you never pictured yourself rushing a kid to the hospital for bloody puke, so you plunk down with a booklet on goiters. It mentions scurvy, which reminds you of Luke, and you have to stifle your amusement before you become known as the Woman Who Laughs at Goiters. 

The nurse brings Luke and Eddie back to the room, along with an old coloring book and some crayons. Artist that he is, Luke is already eyeing the different colors to see which one he’ll want to use first.

“It’ll be another hour until we have all the results,” the nurse announces somewhat apologetically. 

Eddie manages a weak smile as he plops into his chair. You reach over and slide your hand into his. A gentle squeeze greets your touch, and you give him one back in reassurance. 

Finally making his decision, Luke plucks a red crayon out of the box. 

“Did you know that these don’t taste like cherry?”

Everyone—including this poor nurse—stares at him.

“Luke,” Eddie starts, “why would you think it tastes like cherry?”

“Evan Holloway said it did,” Luke replies absentmindedly as he starts to color a fire truck, “but I think he was just kidding, because it tasted gross.”

Eddie bites back a comment about how the kid didn’t stand a chance at being nice with parents like Heather Holloway and Billy Hargrove. It’s not the time or place though.

“When did you eat the crayon?” You investigate further.

“Today during arts and crafts,” he says, tongue poking out of his lips as he concentrates on the drawing at hand. 

You and Eddie both look at the nurse apologetically.

“When I asked you about what you ate today that was red, why didn’t you mention the crayon?” Eddie’s teeth are gritted as he tries to maintain his composure. 

“You asked about fruit snacks, not crayons.” He pauses and looks up from his coloring book. “But don’t worry; I took the paper off first.”

“Oh, good.” Eddie rolls his eyes, and you put your hand on his shoulder. 

Luke’s confession—and subsequent perfect test results—allow him to be discharged. He falls asleep in the car almost as soon as Eddie puts it in drive and leaves the parking lot. 

The ride home is draped in comfortable, relaxing silence. After hours of machines incessantly beeping, doctors checking in, and Luke whining about his boredom, the quiet is certainly welcome. At least now there’s a massive weight off of your and Eddie’s shoulders.

The little boy doesn’t even stir when you arrive at home, so Eddie carries him into the apartment and to his room, gently tucking him into bed. 

“G’night, crazy kid,” he says with a soft laugh. He kisses his forehead, and you do the same before you both head to your own bedroom. 

“Baby, I’m so tired—” Eddie starts, the two of you practically collapsing onto the queen-sized mattress. 

You muster up a nod. “Me, too, Eds.” 

“Raincheck on me rocking your world?” he smirks, leaning in and kissing your nose. 

“Sounds like a plan.”

“I’m home!”

Ryan’s excited voice jolts you awake; when you glance at the clock, it’s only a bit after 7 AM. Charlie’s mom must’ve been eager to end the sleepover. 

Eddie pushes himself up on an elbow and cracks one eye open. “Wait, Ry; how did you get in the house?” He didn’t have a spare key, and Eddie always made sure the doors were locked at night. 

Ryan shrugs. “I rang the buzzer and Luke let me in.”

Eddie groans and lets out a yawn. He’ll have to remind his youngest son about making sure an adult knows someone’s coming into the house, but he doesn’t have the energy now. Instead, he focuses on Ryan. “Ya have fun at Charlie’s?”

“Yeah!” he chirps. “We had—” 

You slowly sit up, trying to keep your temper at being woken up. “Can we hear this story over breakfast, Ry?”

He agrees and bounds into the kitchen, you and Eddie sleepily trailing behind. 

Luke is already halfway through a bowl of Frosted Flakes when the three of you walk out to the kitchen. 

“Ryan!” he shouts, way too loud for this early in the morning. Cereal sprays everywhere, and he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “I went to the hospital last night!” 

Ryan’s eyes nearly pop out of his head. “What?!”

“Yeah! I just told Grandpa about it.”

Eddie frowns in confusion. “When did you talk to Grandpa?” He grabs a bowl from the pantry and pours himself some cereal. Nothing sugary like the boys eat; those days are behind him. 

“I just called him before when I woke up,” Luke says with a shrug.

You throw some Eggos in the toaster for Ryan while the boys both regale you with their respective tales. Luke manages to make it sound much more fun than it actually was last night, tapping into his father’s knack for storytelling. Part of you is surprised there’s no supernatural elements to this tale. 

A little later in the day there’s a knock on the door. Eddie turns the knob and is surprised to see Wayne on the other side. He raises his eyebrows as he regards the older man. 

“What are you doing here?” he asks before realizing how that sounded. “I mean, hi.”

“I told Luke I was coming over,” Wayne says, nodding to the younger boy coming up behind his father. 

Eddie looks at the boy as he closes the door behind Wayne. 

“Luke, you never told me that.”

“You didn’t ask.”

Even though he already told him on the phone, Luke once again laments the events of last night to his grandfather. Once he’s done, Ryan tells Wayne all about his sleepover at Charlie’s last night. 

When he finally gets a moment to talk to you and Eddie without the rugrats around, Wayne offers to take the boys for the rest of the day and overnight so the two of you can have a do over on your anniversary date.

“You sure, Old Man?” Eddie asks.

“Positive. I’ll just keep ‘em away from crayons.”

The moment the three of them leave, Eddie locks the door behind them and grabs your hand to drag you into the bedroom.

“Eds!”

“Oh, right; where are my manners?” Eddie admonishes himself. “I should take you out to eat first.” He heads into the kitchen and fishes the brochure for your go-to Chinese restaurant. Not even needing to ask you, he orders your favorites before hanging up and turning back to you. “Now, time for my meal.” There’s a mischievous glimmer in his eyes. “If you don’t cum in thirty minutes, your next orgasm is free.”

The moment your back lands on the bed, he tugs off your pants and panties and buries himself between your legs. There’s time for slow and romantic later, you both need each other now.

“This pussy is perfect, goddamn.”

Any response is futile as words have left your brain the second Eddie’s tongue flicks over your clit. He does it over and over again, causing your abdomen muscles to tighten and your fists grip the blanket below you. 

You let your eyes fall closed and lose yourself in the feeling of Eddie sucking on your clit. He knows the exact speeds and pressures to get you where he wants you, changing it up in the most pleasurable of ways. As your back arches off the bed at a particularly harsh suck, Eddie slips two fingers into your waiting hole, meeting no resistance. Being stretched by and filled with Eddie just has you that much closer to hitting your high. 

Eddie pumps his fingers in time with his licks and it isn’t long before you feel that familiar heat building up in your body. Your boyfriend must be able to sense this as well, because he curls his fingers up against your walls as his tongue continues to flick over your sensitive bundle of nerves. It’s enough to have you seeing stars. Part of you wants it to last longer, but you know Eddie will do this again and again for you if you ask. The thought of him wanting to make you feel good and wanting your body so much is the push you need into oblivion.

“Fuck! Oh shit, Eddie,” you whine, a hand going down to grip his hair. “I’m—I’m coming.”

Eddie knows how to extract every last wave of pleasure from you as he works you through the orgasm. This he’ll take his time with, after being in such a haste to get you off. You feel boneless as you lay on the bed, utterly wrecked from your boyfriend’s thick fingers and sinful mouth. 

You whine as Eddie slips his fingers from your pussy, but the whine turns into a moan when he pops them into his mouth. It’s suddenly given you a burst of energy.

“My turn,” you say, giving him a salacious grin. 

Eddie flings his shirt into an abyss of laundry and rolls onto his back so you can trail kisses down his torso. He giggles when your fingers brush against his stomach as you unbuckle his belt and tug his pants off. His erection springs free, already leaking pre-cum from getting you off. 

“Such a pretty cock, Eds,” you muse, your lips tenderly touching the head. “And it’s all mine, huh?”

“Y-Yup,” his breath hitches. “All yours; please, please suck it for me.”

You happily oblige—as if there was any doubt that you would—licking from base to tip with a flattened tongue. His thighs twitch at the contact, the movement punctuated with a low groan. You never knew how much you appreciated a vocal man until you’d slept with Eddie. Now it’s a goal of yours to get him to make as much noise as possible.

“Oh, princess,” he growls, fingers twisting in the sheets. “Baby girl.”

Your hand grasps the part of him that doesn’t fit in your mouth, leaving no square inch of his cock untouched in some way. You want—no, you need—to make him feel good. Thinking back to that first time together, fueled by lust, but also a desire for one another. A longing that had burned steady in both of you. Eddie could have waited up for Brittany and had lackluster sex; you could have hooked up with that guy from your anthropology class who’s always checking you out. But that wouldn’t have been satisfying; you craved Eddie and Eddie craved you. It was impossible to satisfy that urge any other way.

He bucks his hips gently now, his signal that he’s close. You pump him faster, grip him tighter, until he’s spilling into your mouth and down your chin. 

Once you’re satisfied that you’ve milked everything you can from him, you pull off and swallow his load. Eddie manages just enough strength to lift his head up as he attempts to catch his breath. His eyes darken as he watches you lick your lips and wipe off the cum that drooled out onto your chin and pop it in your mouth. 

“God damn,” Eddie breathes out. 

You share in that sentiment. This fast and rough sex is exactly what the two of you needed after such a scary and stressful evening last night.

The doorbell rings and your boyfriend flops his head back down, his curls spilling around his pillow like a halo. 

“Want me to get it?” you offer, pushing yourself off the bed.

“Uh uh,” Eddie tuts. He haphazardly reaches over the side of the bed to search for his boxers. “Only I get to see you looking this wrecked.” A playful wink is thrown your way as Eddie sits up. He hops off the bed and slips on his boxers, sweats, and an old Deep Purple t-shirt. “You get dressed, baby.” 

“Don’t wanna,” you say with a pout. 

It makes Eddie chuckle, and he presses a kiss to the side of your head before reaching for the knob on the bedroom door.

“Don’t worry, we can take them off again later.”

Eddie strolls out of the room, and you raid your drawer in his dresser. There’s an old pair of jeans shoved in the back that you pull out and hop into those while you scoop one of Eddie’s old Hellfire shirts that he let you cut and customize to your liking—a true sign of love right there—laying over the arm of a chair. 

When you meet Eddie in the living room, he’s unpacking your food into the coffee table. There’s a pile of VHS tapes in the corner of the room, and though most of them are the kids’, you manage to find Benny & Joon and pop that into the player. 

The moment you plop down on the couch next to Eddie, he wraps his arm around your hips and tugs your body up against his. 

“It’s difficult to eat with one hand, you know,” you tell him when he doesn’t move his arm.

“I’ll deal.”

Somehow, he does—even if it causes a bit of a mess on the couch and coffee table.

Eddie swallows a mouth full of rice and turns to look at you. His eyes take in your profile, the expression on his face turning to adoring almost instantly.

“I’m really grateful that you were there with me last night,” he admits, voice softer and more serious than usual. “I don’t know if I would’ve been able to handle that without you.”

The way that you look at him from beneath your eyelashes takes his breath away. He gets just as stunned by your beauty now as he did when he opened the front door that first time he met you.

“Yes, you could’ve,” you assure him. “You’re stronger than you think, Eddie. But I’m glad you didn’t have to do it alone. There’s nowhere I’d rather have been at the moment than with you. Well…I’d have liked not to have had to go to the hospital at all, but you know.”

Eddie chuckles and shakes his head. “Turns out we didn’t need to anyway.” Your boyfriend sighs and runs a hand over his face. “God, Luke’s gonna kill me someday.”

“Kill you with his cuteness, you mean.”

“You mean because he looks just like me?” Eddie asks, a cocky smirk dancing on his lips.

“Of course,” you say with a chuckle. You lean in and press your lips to Eddie’s, resting your hand on his chest.

“You mean the world to me,” Eddie whispers against your lips. He knows he’s told you that many times, in many different ways. But it’s because he needs you to know how true it is. Having a partner who he can count on and trust with his life—with his son’s lives. It’s new to him, and even after a year, it surprises him every day how much you do for him and the boys. Your kindness and your heart are bottomless, he’s decided. And though he has no clue how he got so lucky, he’s not about to question it.

“I feel the same way about you,” you reply, also in a soft tone. Eddie always tells you the way that you make his life better, but he tends to brush you off when you try to do the same. He believes you deserve more than him, but he doesn’t realize there isn’t any more than him. He is everything.

“I can’t believe we’ve been together a year,” Eddie says. Sometimes it feels like it went by in the blink of an eye, but when he thinks about all the shit the two of you have had to overcome, he thinks that a year feels about right.

“Best year ever,” you say. “Even dealing with a certain psycho couldn’t ruin it.” You don’t want to mention Brittany by name, but you need to let him know that you’d do it all over time and time again despite her and all the bullshit.

“Aw, come on. Ryan’s not that bad,” Eddie jokes. You giggle and bury your face in his neck. Electricity sparks where your skin rests against his and Eddie wraps you up in his arms. “Happy anniversary, baby. I love you much.”

“I love you too,” you murmur against his skin. You go to wish him a happy anniversary as well, but Eddie’s loud growling stomach steals your thunder and sends you into another round of giggles. “Would you like some of my food?”

“God, you’re perfect.”

Not five minutes after the two of you finish your food, Eddie has you on your back, his body resting comfortably on top of yours as you makeout. The kisses are slow and passionate, taking your time to explore one another’s mouths. Hands roam each other’s bodies, some soft touches and some rough grabs—all of it possessive.

Needing air, Eddie pulls his mouth from yours and begins to trail hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck. Strong fingers dig into your hips as you lift your own hands to tangle in his soft curls.

“Bedroom?” Eddie growls against your skin.

“No,” you say, wrapping your legs around the man’s hips to keep him where he is. “Want you here.”

“Mm, whatever my princess wants,” Eddie mutters, punctuating it by grazing your jaw with his teeth. Slowly, he sits up, bringing you with him until you’re seated comfortably in his lap.

You shiver, his tongue warm against your neck and hands strong on your back and sides. It’s as though you can’t be close enough to him, your hips rolling to create a friction that has both of you aroused. 

Eddie unbuttons your jeans disapprovingly. “Don’t know why you even bothered to put these back on,” he tuts, apparently forgetting that he was the one who told you to. “Now I gotta rip ‘em off again. Making this harder than it needs to be.”

“Tell me more about making things harder,” you tease, grinding against his stiff length with the intent of feeling him through your panties. 

“You’re trouble,” he murmurs into your mouth, a smile twitching on his lips. “I fuckin’ love it.”

Your pants get shrugged down your legs, not even making it all the way off, and your lace thong gets pushed over slightly to expose your pussy. Eddie pulls himself out of his boxers and runs his cock along your soaked core before aligning himself with your entrance. 

“Tha’s it,” he moans as you sink onto him, taking every inch within your walls. “Fuck, you know exactly what I want.”

You bite your lip and nod. It’s as though your brain clicks off when he first enters you, your head filled only with thoughts of Eddie Eddie Eddie. 

Once you regain some semblance of sanity, you hold onto his biceps and bounce on his cock, the tip hitting your sweet spot over and over. “So big—so full,” you manage, eyes rolling back as he thrust up into you. 

“That’s right; you’re fuckin’ full of me,” he grits out, fingers digging into the flesh of your ass. “And I’m gonna pump you full of my cum, too.”

You nod before gently biting down on his shoulder. “Please. Want your cum.”

“I know you do, princess. Because I’ve gotta fill you with my cum to knock you up, don’t I?”

You can only whimper in response, but that isn’t satisfactory for your boyfriend. 

“Words, princess.”

“Want you to knock me up!” It comes out in one pathetic breath. 

His thrusts become more frantic, needier. “Oh, I don’t think you want it,” he goads. “I think you need it. I think you need me to get you pregnant, so you can show off that you fuckin’ belong to me—and only me.”

Tears form along your lash line; your orgasm is so close, but you know he can withhold your pleasure if you don’t answer him. “Need your baby,” you whisper. “Need everyone to know I’m yours.”

“God fuckin’ damn.” The thought of you swollen with pregnancy has him unhinged, his thumb circling your clit as his own release nears. “Gonna fuck you so full.”

You clench around him, chanting his name while you cum. He follows, holding down your hips so he can slam into you and give you every last drop. 

A string of breathy whines leaves your lips as you lower your head down to Eddie’s shoulder. His grip on you softens and slowly glides up your body until one hand trails up and down your back and the other cups the back of your head. 

“How was that?” he murmurs.

“Fucking amazing and you know it,” you mumble against his shoulder. 

Eddie chuckles and you pick your head up to press your lips against his. 

“Don’t wanna move,” you say with a sigh.

“I know, sweetheart,” Eddie coos. “Just want to keep me inside of you forever, don’t you?”

As hard as he just made you cum, you shouldn’t get so instantly turned on by his words and teasing tone. And though he may be teasing, he is also absolutely correct. 

You push against his chest playfully and reluctantly move yourself off of his lap. As gracefully as you can manage—which isn’t very—you lay back down on the couch. A trickle down the inside of your thigh tells you that Eddie’s cum is escaping. Your boyfriend seems to notice this just as you do.

“Absolutely not,” he says as uses two fingers to shove it back into you. 

The feeling has your eyes fluttering closed as you let your muscles relax into the cushions. 

“Ah, shit,” Eddie says.

“What?” you ask, forcing your eyes open. Eddie’s looking down and you follow his line of sight to see that some of his cum got away from both of you and landed on your jeans. “Oh, it’s okay. They’re—huh.”

A giggle begins to bubble up out of you and Eddie raises an eyebrow in question.

“Eds, these are the same jeans I was wearing that night,” you tell him.

“Our first night?”

“Yeah,” you say. “I couldn’t find them when I went to get dressed. Someone else did though and threw them in my face.” You chuckle at the memory. “I didn’t even remember I had these jeans stashed here at your place.” 

“And as nice as they are,” Eddie drawls, crawling on top of your body, “I think you look far better without them on. Or any pants. Or any clothes.”

You smirk up at him and drape your arms around his neck. “What do you say we make some new stains, then?”

“As you wish, sweetheart.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #older!eddie #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #dad!eddie #AYW #AYWS

[secretsofblackthornhall]

Magnus to Alec

Dear delectable muffin of love,

I hope this perfumed letter finds you well, and that you and R and M are having an excellent time in your exotic journey to…well, I believe the term you used was “upstate.” I have heard legends of this Upstate, but never did I know that my family would see for themselves its mountains, its twee farm markets, its River of the Son of Hud.

More to the point, I hope the kids are enjoying their visit with Grandma, and I hope you are referring to Maryse as “Grandma” as often as possible because I enjoy the face she makes when we do. On a less pleasant but more urgent note, I hope you’ve had a chance to talk with Luke about the Cohort/Idris stuff.

But do not tire your beautiful hands with a written reply. I will be heading to this “Upstate” myself to join you later this afternoon, as I am relieved to report that the business with the Blackthorn kids’ cursed house is more or less resolved. Although it was touch and go, let me tell you.

I don’t think I even showed you the note Jem sent, which said, “Emma and Julian are trying not to bother you about their house, and that is very nice of them, but unlike them, I feel absolutely no compunction about bothering you, and so this is me, now, in this note, bothering you. We are in need of a warlock and you are the best one I know for this. We would all really appreciate your help.”

As is often the case, I was both mildly annoyed and mildly impressed with Jem, who managed to be both very kind and also to remind me that I am a sucker when it comes to him and Tessa and will rush to their aid when I can. Because I am a sucker when it comes to him and Tessa, I wrote back quickly saying I would come.

I know what you’re thinking: “How could Tessa need a warlock when she is a warlock?” But different warlocks have different expertises, as you know, and while Jem was flattering me that I was the best choice, the reality is that I have dealt with a lot more curses than Tessa. That’s what comes of spending the past decades hiring your services out to any miscreants who come by, instead of more intelligently living a calm life as a magic researcher in the Spiral Labyrinth. Tessa always was the smartest of us.

Anyway, I must give Emma and Julian credit. I expected to arrive and find them banging the cursed objects against one another or something, but they had set up a decent enough protective circle and even found a spell. It was an old, kind of generic spell that I have found to rarely be of much use with actual curses in the modern day, but still.

Rather stupidly I set up a basic workaday curse-breaking circle of my own, and gave it a try. “Stupidly” because I had forgotten who did the curse in the first place. Your worst ancestor, Benedict Lightwood, all-around demon enthusiast and dilettante necromancer. How in bed with demons was Benedict? He literally died of demon pox — which if you do not know, because you are beautifully pure, my Alec — is a sexually transmitted demon disease.

But I forgot that in the moment, so I was surprised when the curse put up an impressive resistance. It writhed and thrashed and struck out, like Max being lowered into a bath. The cursed objects were all glowing, kind of neon green, where they were tied to the magic, and eventually I realized I was going to have to carefully unknot each object from the curse, one at a time.

I managed the flask, the dagger, and one of the candlesticks (don’t ask me to explain how THAT happens), but after that I was stuck.

It’s not a great look for a warlock to strike a big magic pose and then nothing happens. I am sure I looked ridiculous, like a mundane magician who couldn’t understand why the rabbit wasn’t coming out of the hat. Julian and Emma are very polite and only waited patiently but I felt quite silly.

And then I lost all my focus temporarily because the door opened and Kit walked in. He sort of looked around at the scene and finally said, “Professor Plum in the library with the candlestick, I see.”

“Purple is always an appropriate color for a warlock,” I said. “It is the decorative color of magic.”

Emma, of course, said, “Your magic is blue,” because she is an inveterate smartass.

“Maybe he meant me,” said Julian. “I’m wearing a purple hoodie. Also because it is the decorative color of magic,” he added with a nod in my direction, which I appreciated.

“Maybe you could put the objects on a purple tablecloth instead of a white one,” Kit said, and while he was talking he walked out to get a closer look.

And when he got close to the circle, Alec, I felt the strangest sensation. A feeling of…power, I suppose, kind of humming in Kit. You know the way your body kind of vibrates when there’s a really really low sound? That rumbling feeling? It was like that, but silent. I’ve never had that experience any of the times I’ve seen Kit before. I could also tell that Kit didn’t feel anything unusual. Or if he did, he was surprisingly casual about it.

So I suggested he come join us around the circle and add his focus to the magic. “Especially since Jem and Tessa have snuck off somewhere rather than helping out with this round.”

“They’re out in the garden with Mina,” Kit said, a little defensively.

I redirected everyone’s attention to the objects and established a somewhat souped-up version of my go-to curse breaker. I went for the other candlestick and BANG. No resistance anymore! There was a big burst of blue and all the knots of magic tying the objects to the curse broke into pieces.

Everyone blinked a bunch. Eventually I said something like, “Well, that was more what I was hoping for. I guess four people made the difference.”

I checked. The curse seemed…gone. I was actually a little shaken. I haven’t mentioned it to Tessa and Jem, because I don’t want to make a big deal of it, but I think it worked because of Kit. Not because we needed a fourth person. Something is going on with him, some magic that is totally outside his awareness. I assume it has something to do with being a descendant of the First Heir, but I’ve never been an expert on that kind of faerie enchantment. (And do burn this letter, after you get it — very few of us know about Kit being the First Heir, and it’s best if we keep it that way.)

It makes me sad to think of it. Kit is a good kid who deserves a good, ordinary life. I know that’s what Jem and Tessa want for him, more than anything, after the chaos that was his growing up. But I am not sure he will have a choice in the matter. Fae may not let him choose.

Julian reached out and took hold of the flask. He held it for a moment, frowning.

“What?” said Emma.

“Nothing,” Julian said. He looked up at me. “Is that it? No more curse?”

“No more curse,” I said. “I hope.”

And then down from the ceiling drifted Rupert the Ghost. I never met Rupert Blackthorn when he was alive. I don’t know what to think of him. On the one hand, he seems to have been an innocent who was in the wrong place at the wrong time, a spirit trapped in a house he never lived in because of evil he never knew about while he lived. On the other hand, he met Tatiana Lightwood and thought that lady seems like marriage material, so there must have been something weird going on with him.

Rupert had been hovering and he descended until he was right above the table. He was staring at something on it.

“What is it, Rupert?” said Emma. “What are you looking at?”

Kit followed his gaze and started pushing the objects out of the way. “It’s the ring,” he said.

Emma said, “What ring?”

Indeed, what ring? There wasn’t a ring among the cursed objects. But there was a ring on the table now. Kit picked it up. It was a silver ring, etched with a design of thorns and set with a black stone.

“Blackthorn family ring?” Kit said.

“It’s not how family rings usually look,” Emma said.

“Wedding band?” said Kit.

“Shadowhunters don’t use wedding rings,” said Emma, but Julian had that thoughtful look he gets.

“I am bound here by a silver band,” he said softly.

“Shadowhunters can exchange wedding rings,” I said. “They just aren’t expected to. But they can if they want.”

Whatever it was, it was Rupert’s. He had followed Kit’s hand as it picked up the ring, and now he was reaching out for it with a thin ghostly hand. He wrapped it around the ring, which did absolutely nothing since he’s a ghost – Kit just kind of held it there for him. Then his eyes closed (Rupert’s, I mean) and he got this expression on his face of relief and gratitude and peace, and he just…faded out, right there. Just slowly vanished and was gone. No more Rupert. On to hopefully not being reunited with his wife, since she was also his jailer for over a hundred years.

“He didn’t even say goodbye,” Emma said quietly.

“That’s for the best,” I said. “He was never supposed to be here at all.”

“Well, Rupert, if you can hear me,” said Emma, “it was nice being haunted by you.”

“Five stars,” said Kit solemnly, putting the ring back on the table. “Would be haunted again.”

And all the candles went out in the room at once. Which, if it was Rupert, was a nice touch. Though it may have just been a draft.

We all filed out of the room quietly. “It’s different,” Julian said. He was looking around at the hallway. “I can feel it already.”

I could feel it as well. There was a lightness that had not been there. A kind of pleasant hominess that a good house conveys and that had always been absent from Blackthorn Hall in the time I’ve known it. It’s hard to describe, but all at once it felt like Julian and Emma’s home, in a way it hadn’t before. I’ve always known it as a forbidding place, and then as a hideous ruin, but for the first time I thought, this was a place the Blackthorns could fill with joy.

And I’m certain they will.

See you very soon, my love. I shall kiss you until a toddler forces us apart to pay attention to him. So plan for a kiss of about 30-60 seconds, based on previous experience. But I wish, as always, that it could be endless.

Love,

Magnus

#sobh #secrets of blackthorn hall #rupert blackthorn #magnus bane #alec lightwood #julian blackthorn #emma carstairs #kit herondale #made a change to the ring

[thewulf]

Good News Part 2 || Jake "Hangman" Seresin

Summary: Original Request - So i saw somewhere where a woman got into trouble for "destruction of government property" but it's just her giving her military husband hickies, and i think this would be so hilarious with Jake Seresin.

A/N: Whew! Bless a lazy weekend, I've been able to crank these out. Please enjoy this tooth rotting fluff!

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Y/N

Word Count: 3.9k +

Part 1

“You’re seriously going to do it?” Bradley’s voice dropped an octave as he asked his roommate on board the carrier a very serious question. They were few and far between, but he had to know. Jake hadn’t shut the hell up about you for the last six months. Bradley knew the two of you were serious when you moved across the country for him a year ago. He was transferred to Virginia, and you didn’t want to let him go, couldn’t let him go. So, you moved with him. Somehow you had Jake whipped beyond anything Bradley could’ve ever of dreamed from the man.

Jake smiled looking at the picture of the ring his dad had sent him on his phone. They were finally back in United States waters, and he had reception for the first time in weeks.

 He had ordered you engagement ring before he left and had his dad pick it up once it was ready. He only knew one thing, he wanted to marry the hell out of you. He was only reassured when he saw that beautiful face turn into a gigantic smile once you spotted him coming off the carrier. God, he loved you more than life itself.

“Tonight.” Jake nodded at his enemy turned good friend. After the dagger squad had dissolved they were both shipped off to Virginia while the rest of the squad was sent throughout the country. They made a truce in hopes of embarrassing everybody else out here. They were smart in doing so. Quickly, they became fast friends after their tumultuous beginning. But as Maverick said, near death brings everybody a bit closer.

“Tonight?” Bradley sat up from the bed he was lounging on surprise laced in his voice, “You didn’t mention that when you said you were going to propose a few weeks ago.” His eyes were nearly bugging from his head. Hell, he knew they were nearing their mid 30’s and it wasn’t weird to get married… it just surprised him. Especially coming from Jake. The one who used to flirt with anything that moved. But that was years ago. Years before you came around, “You sure?” Bradley asked wanting to make sure it was his best decision.

Jake nodded with a bright smile, “Never been so damn sure of anything in my life Rooster.” He clapped his friends back as he threw the bookbag over his shoulder, “Now, let’s get off this carrier.”

Bradley smile and nodded, “Don’t have to tell me twice.” He was proud of his friend for taking that next step. It was never easy. But you made it so for him.

The two of them chatted and waited and chatted some more. They’d been docked for what felt like hours. It always took forever to disembark. No matter how well they prepped it always took what felt like decades to finally make it off. Everybody was terribly anxious to see their loved ones.

Finally, finally they were dismissed, and he was able to hold you. It was everything he needed and more. You were there. He was here. It was home. He was healed.

You would have sat in his lap on the ride back to your shared home had his parents not been driving in the front seat. So, you settled on snuggling up to him in the middle seat leaning your head on his shoulder. His parents were chatting away with their son as he mindlessly ran his fingers through your wavy hair. You were listening but you weren’t actually listening to the conversation. You were listening to his every heartbeat. His every breath. Smelling his Old Spice body wash and your favorite Tom Ford cologne that accented him perfectly. You were lost in taking him in. He was here. Finally, home. Finally.

His father let him know where he hid the ring in the house when he got some alone time with his son. His parents were throwing a welcome home party at your place, you’d always hosted. Jake just wanted to be home and his parents always insisted. Family was everything for them. The entirety of the Seresin clan flew out to Virginia Beach to welcome him home. Even some of your family made it over to welcome him back. As tired as he always was he was so grateful for the love his family gave him. He knew it was rare, so he never dreamed of pushing the love away. He was ever so thankful that you always understood and welcomed everybody with open arms. You always made them a priority.

Jake had decided to wait to ask you to marry him. Wait until everybody left for the night. Even until his parents left. He just wanted it to be you and him. He’d always dreamed of doing something big and grand, that was his style. But that wasn’t your style at all. A grand gesture would mortify you. You wanted something simple. He’d do anything for you. A simple gesture it was.

It was harder than he imagined waiting to propose to you. You didn’t seem to have a clue it was coming even though he pretty much told you earlier with the ‘even bigger news’ incoming. As smart and observant as you were this was something he absolutely adored about you. You’d miss the simplest things in front of you. Or you’d take something and overanalyze it into oblivion until it didn’t even make sense anymore. But he loved it. He loved the little blush that danced across your cheeks when the realization hit you. He loved the expressions your face always went through. Through and through, he loved you. There was nothing he had ever been so sure of. You. You were his end game.

He watched as you talked with almost every family member of his. How effortlessly you were able to hold a conversation when you needed to. He watched as all his brothers and sisters kids clung to you throughout the night. How easily you were able to play with them and shoo them off when needed. He was damn sure his heart nearly melted every time you made eye contact with him. You’d always look away quickly knowing you got caught. But he got caught as well and he didn’t give a damn. He loved watching you. Seeing you.

“Hey handsome,” You squeezed Jake’s side later on in the night after the cookout, “How are you holding up?”

He leaned into your touch. Shameless really. All he wanted to do is hold you. Touch you. Breathe you in. But his family made that really fucking hard to do that. He tried not to complain about it. He loved them dearly. They were always sure to try. How lucky was he? An incredible family and an even better person standing beside him.

“I’m just a bit tired.” He admitted to you. He never lied to you. Nor did you to him. Without much thought you gently ran your hands through his sculpted hair. You knew he didn’t care that you were messing up his hairstyle. Not when it was you. You felt the sigh escape his lips as his eyes fluttered closed for a moment. He allowed himself to really be in the moment with you.

“I’m sorry honey.” You cooed in his ear. If you could you’d shoo them all away. But you knew better. They’d come all in from across the country for him. Both of you knew it was just another few hours and then you’d get your alone time. Your hour of bliss before the sleep inevitably took over.

His eyes opened seeing your soft eyes giving him a concerned look, “It’s alright Y/N.” He kissed your lips quicky to reassure you, “Just a few more hours then you’re all mine.” He whispered into your ear nibbling at its base just enough to tease you. He already had you squirming in his arms.

You would’ve whispered something obscene had his own mother not called out to you then, “Y/N! Dear! Do you mind helping me serve the desserts?” She asked in her thicker than molasses southern accent with a big white toothy grin on her face. You’d never dreamed of saying no to her.

You grinned, “Of course Alice, I’ll be right there.” You waved to her before turning to your boyfriend.

“Let me go help your momma.” You kissed his cheek before turning. He caught your arm before you could get too far away from him.

“Thank you. It means a lot to her.” He pulled you in for quick kiss on the forehead, “Which means a whole lot to me.”

“You know I like helping her.” You smiled feeling all the love from him in that moment. You felt so damn lucky that he was yours. All yours. Little did you know he was going to make that permanent in just a few hours. Oh, how he wished time would just skip forward.

“Thank you.” He grinned running a gentle hand down your arm. He needed to touch you. To feel you. Six months was far too long without his favorite person. His rock. The one he trusted the most. The one he needed the most. You.

“Course honey.” Your smile couldn’t fall. It felt surreal that he was actually home. You’d willed this day to be here ever since he stepped onto the carrier six months ago. Finally.

“I love you.” He kissed you one more before dropping your arm.

“Love ya handsome.” You waved before wandering off into the kitchen. Jake watched as your hair bounced and your dress swayed side to side. He was so damn happy he found you.

“We’ll pick you both up at eleven tomorrow for brunch with the family?” Alice asked as you and Jake walked his parents to the door. Your parents hadn’t made it much past ten before they left. Jake’s managed to be the last ones to stay. She insisted on helping you clean up. You yawned feeling the time hit you. It was nearing one in the morning. Far past your usual bedtime. Jake must’ve been a damn zombie by now. He normally slept for days after getting off a deployment.

“Sounds good mom. We’ll be ready.” He kissed her on the cheek. After he shook his dads hand. You didn’t catch the wink he tossed his son. He knew what Jake was planning. You were still as clueless as ever standing behind him admiring the cute little family interact.

“Sleep well Y/N.”

“You too Alice, Dave.” You couldn’t stop the second yawn that overcame you as you waved to them. Jake shut the door behind them quickly. Not waiting a second before turning towards you.

A devilish smile took over his features, “Finally.” He grinned before making a bee line towards you and scooping you up into his arms, “I missed you my love.”

“Jake.” You giggled in his arms. You weren’t complaining but this was new. He was always touchy, but this was different. It was needy. You loved it. He was all yours. Yours and yours only, “What’s gotten into you honey.” You looked up to him breath catching in your throat as you caught his eye. He was giving you that look. The one that told you everything. He was bearing his soul to you.

He shrugged after shifting his gaze to the unassuming box he left on the counter. The one that housed your ring. The one he got custom made with his grandma’s and your grandma’s diamond rings. Both of your mothers went with him to help him out. He knew you were going to love it, but damn was he suddenly nervous. He knew he hadn’t a thing to worry about. You were going to yes. He couldn’t help but to be nervous though. This was it. This was him committing to you. To taking those next steps. He wanted those things with you. To buy a home and make it yours together. To have children that look like the both of you. To raise them to be even better versions of both of you. To do this life together. He was nervous. But damn was he ready.

“I missed you. I missed you so much. I missed that beautiful face. That smart ass mouth. This gentle soul. I love you my darlin’.” He leaned down and captured your lips in a kiss. A much gentler and more relaxed one. So much slower and thoughtful. One that showed you just how much he loved you. His heart and soul were yours for the taking.

“I love you too.” You answered him when he broke the longing kiss. He walked you over to the kitchen island sitting you down on the barstool. Your eyes were glazed over with the love that shone out of you. Even then you still hadn’t a clue. This was one of the many reasons you had come to love him so deeply.

He brushed a stray hair out of your face, “Anybody ever told you how pretty you are? Most beautiful woman in the world?” That compliment and the look he was giving you could make any woman swoon. You’d be amiss if you didn’t blush violently at that.

“You have. All the time.” It came out as a whisper. He had the ability to do that to you. Make you nervous beyond belief. Make you feel like the most special human in the world. He makes sure to treat you as his world and so much more.

His grin widened as his eyes scanned your face. Beautiful. So utterly beautiful. He found you ethereal even. Without a flaw. See, the two of you hardly even fought. If you did it was because somebody was tired or failed to communicate. Both of you learned to worth through issues with words. Something you’d never found in a partner before him. He tried. And succeeded. And then blew your expectations out of the water. People prayed for a love like yours. God were you thankful.

“It’s true sweetheart.” He pulled the box over without you knowing. Still clueless as ever. His favorite human. He palmed the small ring box underneath snaking it behind his back. His mouth began to dry up as he realized what he was actually doing. God he wanted you more than ever. His girl.

Your cheeks warmed even more if they possibly could, “You’re too sweet on me Mr. Seresin.”

He shook his head, “I’d disagree with you sweetheart.” He kissed your cheek as he took a step in closer, “I’d argue that I’m not sweet enough. Being away for so long was awful. It made me realize how much you really truly meant and mean to me. You’re everything. It’s that simple. You’re my reason to get up. You my love. My dear. My sweets. My sweetheart. My everything.” He kissed your other cheek taking a second to get the next line straight.

It felt like your heart was going to drop out of your ass. He was always so sweet to you, but this was something more. Could he possibly be doing what you’d dreamed of for far too long? You quickly shook that thought out of your head as he continued. Leaving you utterly speechless.

“I love you so much sweetheart. And I know I’m ready to take the next step with you. I want to do this life with you. Build a home with you. Start a family with you.” He kissed your forehead now.

Oh. Shit. Maybe he really was? You slid forward in the barstool now fully awake. God you’d probably pass out he if really was proposing, “You do?” Your smile about made him pass out. The most genuine look. The happiest he’s probably ever seen you. And he did that. He made you smile like that.

“I do, if that’s what you want?” He paused waiting for some confirmation.

You took that as a chance to kiss him on the lips. He was inevitably going to move there next. You felt him smile into the kiss wrapping his arms around you lightly, “You’re my best girl. My favorite human. The best thing that’s ever happened to me Y/N. Will you marry me?” He asked taking a slight step back and kneeling down holding the most beautiful right in his hand.

You could only nod due to your complete lack of being able to form any words. You pulled him up for another long kiss trying to think of anything to say, something.

“One thousand times yes.” You whispered to him once you pulled away, only because you needed oxygen.

He pulled you so you were standing on his toes. Holding you tightly to his chest knowing you were most likely weak at the knees, “Mrs. Seresin has a nice ring to it.” He gleamed cupping your chin in one hand. Gently this time he pressed his lips to yours while sliding the ring on your finger with his other hand.

Looking down at the ring you were sure your cheeks were about to rip from the smile that came across your face, “Y/N Seresin.” You giggled admiring the most stunning engagement ring. He’d done more than you could’ve ever dreamed. Your man. Your forever man now.

He sucked in a breath admiring you, “That’s the sexiest damn thing I’ve ever heard you say.”

You giggled hugging him close to you, “I love you so much Jake.”

He hugged you back, never wanting to let you go, “You have no idea darlin’. I love you too.”

Permanent Taglist (Message me or comment below if you want to be added!): @loving-and-dreaming @kmc1989 @memeorydotcom

Request Taglist: @stuffingbuttsandshit @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @chloeforde @rosiahills22 @dempy @the-romanian-is-bae @sarahjoestewy-blog

#top gun maverick #top gun #jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #top gun imagine #jake seresin fanfic #jake seresin x y/n #jake seresin x you #hangman x reader #hangman x y/n #jake seresin fic #jake seresin x oc #jake seresin fanfiction #jake seresin fluff #jake seresin top gun #hangman fic #hangman imagine #hangman #hangman x you #hangman x oc #top gun fanfiction #top gun movie #top gun masterlist #top gun x reader #top gun x you #top gun x y/n #top gun x oc #top gun hangman #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake x reader

[117luv]

THE PARENT TRAP — LHS | CHAPTER 6

synopsis: jungwon and ni-ki met each other at a summer camp and found out they were fraternal twins. this leads to events where the two ex-lovers, heeseung and yn, are reunited after 14 years by their children.

genre: exes to lovers, smau, fluff

pairing: lee heeseung x fem!reader

warnings: cursing, poor attempts in humor, grammatical errors, marriage, pregnancy, parenthood, miscommunication

taglist: CLOSED!

a/n: hi my loves! apologies since it took LONGER than my usual sched for updates which is average of 2 days, it just i have many things in mind and im having a minor writer's block hence the slow update but rest assured my update sched will be consistent since its my final week of school T.T ne ways enjoy n love ya <3

masterlist | previous | next

Having dinner with your ex is an awkward event, especially if it's your own kid who asked for the event to take place. Yn can't say no to her son, whom she hasn't been with for almost 15 years; it's the least she can do for him. As she got ready, the boys waited for her downstairs as they watched a show on the TV. A doorbell rang just after she went downstairs. She opened the door and met the eyes of the man who is not only the father of her children but also the guy she still deeply loves and cares about despite being apart for more than a decade. They got in his car and drove to the restaurant. The car ride was filled with the boys playfully teasing each other as she looked at the rear mirror. She was met with a scene she didn't think could be possible after all these years. Her twin sons are playfully bantering as Heeseung hums to the tune of the song playing on the radio. It felt like a family enjoying the weekend and having dinner together. A complete family she had wished she could have fought for in the past.

They stepped into the restaurant and sat at their table. The boys were busy looking at the menu while the two tried to avoid each other's glances. As the waiter got their orders and, after awhile, came out with their food. They peacefully ate while the boys shared stories while they were in the camp. She can see that the boys indeed have a bond with each other despite being apart for such a long time. It pains her that this could have been their reality if things had turned out okay. It was time for dessert, and Heeseung excused himself to go to the restroom, which she quickly followed as she instructed the boys to wait for them. As she found him, she quickly grabbed his arm and asked him if she could talk to him in a private area.

"What do you want us to talk about?" he asked. "I think we should tell them; I can't bear waiting any longer to see them not know about their situation, she responded. Heeseung gave her a reassuring smile and said, "Okay, if that's what you want, then we can tell them. They deserve to know about it." — "Thank you. We should wait and tell them when we arrive in my place since we are still in public, to which he nodded and agreed. They got back to the table, and the boys were just talking as they saw their parents. She told them that her and Ni-ki's dad would tell them about something. The ride back was silent as the boys felt nervous for what was about to happen.

"So, what do the both of you want to tell us?" Jungwon asked as they all sat on the sofa. "Okay, me and Heeseung have been hiding something. I know this might come as a surprise and if you two are angry or feel betrayed by the both of us, its completely understandable. Jungwon and Ni-ki, the both of two are twins. Ni-ki, I understand if you feel hatred towards me. I been nothing but an useless mom to you. I failed to give you the right to experience to have a mother. I as your mother would like to apologize deeply. I know my apology doesn't make up for the 15 years but I hope you know that I always have you in my mind. I prayed everyday that you and your dad are safe. That you're eating well and growing into a respectfully man. I'm always proud of you and I'm grateful to be your mother." as she spoke Ni-ki cant help his eyes to tear up. He finally found his mom, the woman for whom he had longed for a long time. He can finally have someone he can call 'Mom', or someone who will shower him with affection. The day had come, and he was the happiest he had been for the longest time. "Can I hug you?" he spoke to her, and she opened her arms as the boy hugged his mom. "I've been wishing to feel your hug for the longest time. Whatever reason you and dad have, you can just explain to us next time. I just want to hug right now. Also, does this mean I can call you 'Mom' and taste your meals?" the boy finally looked at his mom, who shared the same tearful eyes as she looked at him: "Yes, Sweetheart. You can call me 'Mom, and I will cook you anything that your heart desires. Anything for my baby." as she placed a kiss on his forehead.

As the scene unfolds in front of Jungwon. He can't help but look at Heeseung, who is sitting near him. His dad is within arms reach; he can't believe he can finally meet him. He got up and hugged him tightly. "I can't believe I can finally hug you, Dad, he said while the older male hugged him tighter. "Me too, Kid. Me and your mom want to apologize about everything. The both of you don't deserve this but we can't undo the past anymore. Let me make for years I wasn't there for the both of you." Heeseung replied, "Thank you for telling us. As Ni-ki said, just explain to us next time. I want to be with you, I really want to be close to you." he said as Heeseung caressed his hair and placed a kiss on top of his head while hugging him. The day ended on a good note. There were many emotions poured out, and the four of them hugged together. The family is finally complete.

taglist [CLOSED] : @yangwaa @emikisses @yohanabanana @arizejkt19 @skuwu-blog @beatr2x @svarcq @softiehee @enhastolemyheart @deobitifull @emxshu @bucketofhiros @lost-leopard-beanie @soobin-my-beloved @azurez @flwrshee @beomgyusonlywife @lalalalawon @yanagisprettygf @astrae4 @myjaeyunn @sesame-street-lol @yumilovesloona @jhopesucker @omgjwon @yoonjunshi @wannatinyus @yeahhemmings- @coupscheri @aefolrin @neozon3nha @mevalemadrws @wonyoungsvirus @ilvsoup @dneltrise @chirokookie @noascats @sxftiell @onionzzzs @nokacchan @i-yeseo @02zluvbot @iamliacamila @nicholasluvbot @ilovewonyo @ddazed-lhs @tobiosbbyghorl @youmenotyummy @minhoie @enhaz1

#the parent trap — lhs 🌷 #enhypen #heeseung x reader #sunghoon x reader #enhypen x reader #jake x reader #sunoo x reader #enhypen imagines #jay x reader #jungwon x reader #ni-ki x reader #enhypen fluff #enhypen headcanons #enhypen au #enhypen smau #enhypen masterlist #heeseung imagines #heeseung fluff #heeseung smau #enhypen social media au #lee heeseung x reader

[safehaven2]

lonely dad who doesn't want to lose his son who is moving away to college vores him and keeps him in his stuff and cramped gut slowly digesting him as the son tries to struggle out?

My boy Devin was getting ready to finally move out and despite us agreeing that he'd go to Community College around the corner, he'd been planning to move into dorms at a State College. It's been me and Dev since he was 3, I couldn't even imagine coming home and not having him there to greet me. I begged and begged him not to move out, but he was stubborn and I didn't have a lot of options or I was going to lose my boy. I wasn't going to lose Devin. In fact, I would have him forever.

After one more conversation about not moving out, Devin snapped at me and said I was being selfish, only caring about what I wanted and not what he wanted. I've raised him for nearly two decades, I know him better than he knows himself and I know he needs his daddy by his side. But, when Dev threatened to cut contact with me for not respecting him, I lost it and threw him to the floor on his back. I planted one foot on his chest, pulling off his pajamas and revealing his naked, supple body to my delight and garnering a rumble from my waist. My ears had already begun to drown out the sounds of my boy screaming while I stripped him, allowing me to focus on keeping my son near me for good.

I lifted up my son by his ankles and started licking them, stuffing his feet past my lips and guiding them into my waiting throat. Devin thrashed under my foot, but my love for him field my hunger and I began swallowing my boy down my esophagus. I worked my way down to my boy's knees, gulping down his shins with voracious joy as more and more of him became mine as I devoured him alive. This was such a perfect plan, after I fully swallowed Devin and put him away safely inside my stomach, he'd be with me forever and I'd always keep him safe.

Dev kept trying to push me off him, but I grabbed him by the waist and started shoving his thighs into my drooling mouth. I felt his feet enter my stomach and I moaned in ecstasy at the feeling of him beginning to enter me, hungry to know the feeling of him fully curled up inside my gut. Terrifying my prey, I lifted him up above my head and enlisted gravity in eating my son, taking him down my gullet until his crotch was sitting in my mouth.

I wanted Devin to be happy and knowing that this was the last time he'd get the chance to orgasm, I played around a bit with his cock and used my tongue to get a good taste. He might be my kid, but the musky taste of his cock was tantalizing and the shudder of him blowing his load was enough to get me hard. Feeling him go limp as he filled up my mouth with his cum, I took a heavy swallow and felt him drop down to his navel in my gullet with his hands pinned in my lips.

From then on, Dev weakly struggled, but I was able to easily gulp him down and devour him like I wanted. My son disappeared into my throat more and more until I pressed and shoved his shoulder into my mouth, wrapping my lips around his neck. It felt amazing to have so much of Devin inside my body and to feel him curling up inside my gut like it was a womb. He whimpered at me through teary eyes, but I had what I wanted and wasn't going to change my mind now.

I tilted my head fully back and put a hand on the top of my boy's head, opening my lips wide enough to press down as I swallowed, pushing Devin down my hungry gullet. I closed my mouth and took a second swallow, feeling the gluttonous victory of my boy's weight beginning to get heavier in my stomach as he fully entered it for good. Dev squirmed and wiggled around inside my belly, pressing out imprints of his hand and face across my distended gut. He was no doubt trying to find a way out, but it was too late. Devin is all mine.

I cradled my boy and rubbed him while I joyfully told him about how great its going to be now that we're together forever. He cried to be let out and not be digested, but my mind was set and Devin was going to be added to my waist as fat. My son would become a part of belly forever, hanging off me as if he was hugging me with all the love I knew he had for me. I rubbed him despite his protests until I felt a rumble from his squirming and I let out a long belch, then he slowly went still until my gut got to work and started digesting him. Devin was mine forever.

#fatalvore #full size vore #dad son #vore belly

[tinydeskwriter]

Grammy Night 23’

"I feel like I'm going to burst the seams of the dress."  Y/n commented looking at herself in the mirror as Lamby's assistant finished zipping her dress, her breasts were almost bursting out of it, a beautiful creation made of Swarovski silver crystals.

 “Darling, you are going to be the hottest woman on that carpet.”  Her husband’s stylist praised her  bringing in his hand the fishnet mask with crystals that would go over her eyes and dyed peacock feathers that went on the back of her head. “See if the crystals will get in the way of you seeing.”

“Honey Baby, how do I look?” Y/n turned to see her husband walking into the room, she knew what he would wear, she had seen the sketches but it was another thing to see the final result.  Harry looked hot as hell, the colorful crystal patchwork jumpsuit couldn't be more perfect on him, it showed his chiseled body, the tattoos,  the fantastic chest his fans—and wife—are crazy about, all the hair, the lonely curl... Harry just smiled, the answer to his question was clear in the way his wife stared at him.  "See people, that's why we have three kids."  He joked pointing to his wife,  causing their team to laugh.  “You are a vision Honey.” He said pecking her on the lips, hands going to her waist. “My favorite MILF.” He whispers, kissing her neck.

“Says the man who half the internet calls ‘’Daddy’” She teases.

“Having my kids did good to you.”  He jokes staring at his wife's cleavage. 

Y/n just rolls her eyes, a smile still in her face. 

“Darling, Sue, sorry to interrupt your dirty talk,  but it’s frosting time, and then you guys are good to go.” Lambert came their way with a jewelry tray.  

Before Lamby could start helping Y/n with the pieces of jewelry they'd selected at Tiffany's in NYC the week before, H interrupted him, pulling a chain from his pocket.  

“You don't have to wear it today, I bought it as a push present and also celebrate my Grammy nominations, I wouldn't be here today without you, My Love.”  The chain was white gold, delicate with colored stones, and a teardrop diamond the same color as her engagement ring held by a fig.

The woman was speechless, looking from the necklace to her lover of more than a decade.  It was a substantial gift, but Harry had always been generous, and he enjoyed spoiling her since they’re teens and couldn’t afford diamonds. She just turned around, allowing him to fasten the jewel around her neck.  She ran her hand over the diamond, it was the exact same color as her engagement ring—a fancy green diamond almost the same color of her husbands eyes—.

“My Love… this is beautiful, thank you so much.” She turned around, taking his face between her hands and kissing him passionately, trying to express through the kiss all her love for him.

Harry smiled into the kiss, his hands tightening on her hips.

Jeff came in at that exact moment to inform them that the car was already waiting to take them from the Chateau to the Crypto.com Arena. 

Lambert and his assistant quickly help Y/n put on all the jewelry Tiffany had borrowed them, the Edwardian choker, which complemented the necklace Harry had given her, a mishmash of earrings—a massive chandelier, followed by a dainty stud, and diamond hoops—in all of her ear piercings, a beautiful Art Deco bracelet mixed with the colorful collection of  tennis bracelets Y/n wore to mark every Mother's Day since the birth of her eldest son. 

On her fingers she preferred to go with her usual rings. 

 Her engagement ring and wedding band were the only rings on her left hand.  While on the right she wore the same 'S' as H on her little finger, a delicate 'H' in colored diamonds, infinity bands of different stones, and a vintage solitaire on her index finger—a Christmas present the kids had picked out with Grandma Anne —.

Lambert's assistant helped her on with her shoes—high-heeled Mary Janes from Gucci—while she was held by both Harrys to keep her balance.

As they were rushed to the car by Jeff, Y/n remembered to turn around and ask someone to remember to pack her breast pump along with the rest of their outfits.

In the car, to try and ease Harry's anxiety, they video-phoned the children—who were being watched by Gemma and Anne—Primrose answered their grandmother's cell phone, dressed in a bear onesies that made her look like a teddy bear, showing the TV room to her parents and the snacks gran-gran made, auntie Gemma sitting in the couch  with a sleeping  baby Bluebell, the three months old dressed just like her big sister.  Otto was in the bathroom according to Prim who was chattering non-stop making Harry smile more relaxed.

It always warmed Y/n’s heart that nothing could make H as happy and relaxed as their babies. 

They said goodbye to their daughter when the car stopped in front of the arena, Y/n handing over the phone to Jeff to keep. Harry get out of the car first and waits in the doorway to help his wife out and supports her from behind as they make the slightly uneven path between the car and the carpet, his right hand firmly on her right while his left hand was firmly on her hip, and she held his wrist for more balance.  The couple made their way under the screams of fans and the flash of cameras.

It was only when they were already at a certain point on the carpet that Harry placed himself next to his wife and the two started to walk hand in hand.  They stops for photos along the way, but don't do any interviews, heading straight for the cocktail area. The couple interacted with acquaintances and friends, especially those they hadn't seen in a while. The last two and a half years have been crazy, Fine Line, Covid 19, quarantine with two young children, Pleasing, Harry filming and premieres, Harry’s House, Love on Tour and a new baby.  They were busy and it seemed like they rarely had time for their friends, as all their free time was being spent with the little  family they had created together. 

Both changed clothes in Harry's designated dressing room before heading to their seats—crystal outfits were cute but impractical when you have to sit for hours, Harry donned a Gucci suit costume made for him, while Y/n wore a silver sequin  Markarian gown matching Harry's shirt. The couple certainly looks gorgeous, always matching theirs outfits in subtle ways.

They have their hands clasped together, she holding his hands so he wouldn’t pick on his cuticles, Harry is quieter than usual allowing Y/n to take the lead and interact with other people—which, having been married to him for nearly eight years, and knowing him since she was born, she could tell it was a sign of nervousness. 

She whispered to him how amazing the album was and that he didn't need the validation that it was a little golden gramophone for the world to know that.

Nervousness turns to euphoria when Harry becomes the first winner of the night, taking the award for best pop album. 

Y/n didn't even hear Jennifer Lopez's introductory speech, her eyes focused on Harry's handsome profile.  

Y/n is the first to his feet when he hears Harry's name being screamed by J.Lo, applauding his husband energetically, the smile on Harry's face is blinding, he takes his wife's face between his hands and kisses her, before continuing to be hugged and greeted by people around the table and nearby. She has tears in her eyes, which the cameras make a point of showing when they zoom in on her at the exact moment when Harry on stage dedicates the award to his wife for being his muse and inspiration.

One of the highlights of the night for the couple was without a doubt the fact that Y/n had been invited to present the performance of 'As It Was'.  

In a gold-metal mesh top and long skirt, showing off her midriff, the woman who had become famous at fifteen as Harry Styles' 'best friend' took the stage flanked by her two eldest children, seven-year-old Otto, dressed in a pink suit and beige turtleneck by Gucci and a crochet daisy bucket hat covering his curls, and adorable four-year-old Primrose, twining with her brother in a blue Gucci suit, her curls adorned by a huge crystal bow.

“Many of you fell in love with the next artist to perform here tonight in 2011 when he became one of the members of one of the biggest boy bands in history, he has been delivering hits ever since, amassing fans around the world, and delighting hearts with his music, he is an icon, a sex symbol, and one of the greatest musicians of our time, but for us he is simply the greatest husband and father, it is with immense pleasure that I am here tonight, with our two eldest children, to introduce one of the most authentic, generous, kind artists on the planet, the love of my existence, here, to delight us with his Grammy-nominated song 'As It Was', my husband and father of my children,” She lowered the microphone, allowing the two children to squeal excitedly into the device, “Harry Styles!”  

And for the first time in a live performance Primrose was present to say the already famous: ‘Come on Daddy! We wanna say good night to you!' driving the audience crazy.

Y/n and the kids made their way to their table dancing to her husband’s song, the mother of three splitting her attention between walking in her heels and looking where the kids were going, Otto made a short stop dancing with Taylor Swift, and saying something to her that made the singer throw her head back laughing. Y/n greeted Taylor with kisses on the cheek before redirecting her son to their table.  

An extra chair was brought over for Otto—who was at the next table greeting Lizzo and Adele.

Prim sat in Harry's chair waiting for daddy, and Y/n wouldn't even insist that the little girl sit on her lap, as she knew she couldn't compete with her husband when it came to their children. When they least expected it, Harry was back, in his Gucci suit—and not in what Otto was referring to as ‘daddy bedazzled Chewbacca costume’.

"Surprise!"  Y/n sings to her husband as he lifts their daughter up, making the little girl giggle, and sat with her on his lap, kissing their daughter's cheek, and fist bumping their son.

It was a surprise she had been planning for over a week, at times she was afraid someone would let it out, especially Prim, who was known in the family for not being able to keep secrets—just like her daddy.

“Thank you, Honey Baby.” He thanked his wife with a peck, his whole face lit up with the appearance of the children. “You look godly.” Harry  complimented her, eyes roaming all over the outfit, he knew what a big step it was for his wife to wear something so daring after three pregnancies, despite her beautiful body—especially in his eyes—Y/n was insecure about her stretch marks.

“Thank you, my life.” She pulled his hand to hers and kissed the back of his hand. 

They watched the awards half-heartedly, at every turn Otto and Prim brought their parents' attention to them with funny anecdotes, and Y/n was having to keep a hand on their son's shoulder to make sure the boy didn't wander off. The family of four cheered when Lizzo was announced as the winner of Song of the Year, Otto ran with open arms to the honorary auntie congratulating her for the award, he didn't even care that 'daddy' had lost, auntie Lizzo had won! 

With every moment that passed, anxiety rose, Y/n was confident in her husband’s album—the album she had inspired—, while Harry was sure Album of the Year was between Beyonce and Bad Bunny. 

She shook Harry's hand as Noah Trevor took the stage to announce the final awards of the night, asking fans of the nominees to join him, when the comedian asked Harry's fan to read the name on the envelope, Harry broke down with gratefulness, disbelieve, joy…

 Prim clung to her father's neck screaming that he had won. 

 Y/n stood up applauding her husband, Otto hugging his mother's hips showing his father’s  twin smile, dimples and all. 

 Harry got to his feet after composing himself, smiling Primrose hanging on his neck with  her legs curled around his hips. 

Harry kissed his wife with a huge smile, ruffled his son's curls, hugged Jeff, Tyler and Tom, Lizzo, who filmed everything excited.  The singer took the stage with his children and their two producers, he put Prim on the floor so he could hug his fan and accept his award, Primrose and Otto hugging him on either side.

“Shit…well, shit.”  He looked at his children. “Sorry kids.”

H was speechless, Y/n could see it from a distance.

Jeff wrapped a arm around her when she started to tear up. 

Harry was so humbled and grateful, and this was such a huge moment in his career, and she was so proud of the man she had married.  The boy from Holmes Chapel who worked in a bakery and always came to pick her up with cupcakes in his hands and flowers he had picked from the neighbor's garden. Her husband was a three times Grammy Award winner, and he had just owned the biggest award of the night.  

The woman frowned as she heard people in the audience yelling negativity at her husband, how Beyonce should have won and some yelling at him to get off the stage. 

 This was his moment, it wasn't his choice to win, two thousand of his peers had voted and chosen him, chosen Harry's House as the best Album. Everyone is entitled to their opinion, but you don't have to be an asshole. 

 Treat People With Kindness. 

 She was happy to see Beyonce, Taylor Swift, Shania, Lizzo, H.E.R and Adele giving him a standing ovation, and hearing his shaken speech.  

He once again dedicated it to her and their kids, calling them ‘his home’. Y/n quickly joined her husband backstage, arms going around Harrys’s neck, as his hands found her hips. The couple smiled at each other before kissing passionately, his team applauding the moment. 

“I’am so proud of you, My Life.” She held his face in her hands. “You did it! You put out an amazing album, delivered a killer tour, 2022 was your year, and you deserved that Album of the Year award!” She states brushing his nose with hers, a huge smile on her face before kissing him again.

#harry styles imagines #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader

[holylulusworld]

Two kings (prologue)

Summary: You have fallen in love with the king of Brooklyn. When your wedding day arrives, there is much more to discover about the man you fell in love with than you thought...

Pairing: Prince!Steven Grant Rogers x Princess!Reader  

Warnings: angst, modern royal au, mentions of destruction/war/fighting/mystery, dystopian world (kinda), royals bashing (kinda), no dialogue in the beginning

A/N: Please consider this is a short prologue to get to know more about the world the reader is living in. It’s necessary to understand a few aspects of the story. We are living in modern times, but in a dystopian/post war world.

Two kings masterlist

Five decades ago, ...

Blood was staining the ground fifty years ago; feeding the world with more pain and hatred of those who had fallen.

Millions of lives were lost. A war without sense. Doomsday. Final tick of the clock.

With governments and armies losing battle after battle, the ones with royal blood raised their swords again.

Modern times have taken away their rightful place in society. They just had to wait for their chance to get it back. Hidden in the shadows they planned on taking over the world once again.

Their knights stood tall by their kings' and queens’ sides, fighting down the enemy threatening to eat their world alive. An enemy this world hadn't faced for centuries.

Enemies from a different time. The forgotten ones. Their history has been banished from history books.

Revenge of the second sons. The spare. Greedy corpses wanting to get their hands on the crowns their heads never felt.

Dark Age reanimated. Brutal. Deadly. Bloody.

It took more than five years and more losses – but the war was won.

Only winning always comes with a price. One that everyone agreed to pay.

An awful price paid with blood and death.

Today, age of seven, …

You always wondered how the world before the world war tearing it apart was alike.

Love. Freedom. Free will.

Did you have all of this? Was life better back then, when the powerful didn’t decide how you must live your life?

Of course, your father and your tutors tried to teach you about history. Reading about the world you lost before you were even born is just not the same.

You’re only a child, but you know there are rules that must be followed.

Rules you cannot break. Not even as a princess.

“Bunny Boo,“ your father tuts as you stick your nose into another book. “Y/N, you know today is important to our kingdom.”

You close the book, sighing deeply. “I know, daddy.”

“Today I’m not daddy, Bunny Boo,” he crouches down next to your chair to pat your knee. “Around our guests you must call me your majesty. You remember our lectures?”

You recite your tutor's words, "I should act like a princess today. I’ll make you proud your majesty. I remember every word. I promise to be respectful and well-behaved.”

“I know you will,” he runs his hand over your head. “You are my pride and the apple of my eye. One day, you will become queen and rule this kingdom.”

If not a brother will take my place," you remind your father. He smiles softly. You’re too young to understand that a male heir won’t take your place in his heart. Only the throne. “Who will come today, daddy? I forgot.”

“I’ll tell you on the way,” he softly says. “First we need to change into something new. You cannot run around in your shirt and jeans.”

As you drop your eyes to your chest, you reply, "But I like the bees on my shirt. They are cute and help the flowers.”

“For me, Bunny Boo," your father says as he gets back on his feet. “I’ll be waiting for you outside.”

“Hey, you cannot pick the flowers," you say as you let go of your mother's hand to move toward the roses. A boy just picked three red roses and now you are furious. “These are my mom’s flowers.”

As he looks at you sheepishly, he replies, "They're nice.”

“You can’t just…” you stomp your foot. “Who are you? How dare you rip my mom’s flowers out?"

“Sorry,” he looks at the flowers in his hands. The boy is a little elder and taller than you but oddly he shies away as you get closer to him. “I wanted to pick some flowers for the princess. My father said she likes flowers.”

“You want them for the princess?”

He nods. "I forgot the gift my mother bought for the princess. Dad was mad and I wanted to get some flowers to make up for the forgotten gift.”

“You’re an odd boy,” you giggle. “You want to give me my mom’s flowers?”

“You are the princess?” his cheeks redden as you look him up and down.

“Yes.”

He grins and hands you the flowers. “Princess Y/N, it’s an honor to meet you,” he bows. “I’m Prince Steven Grant Rogers. Will you give me the honor to show me around the gardens?"

“Only if you promise to stop stealing flowers…”

>> Part 1

Tags in reblog.

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #dystopian au #royal au #steve rogers x you #Two kings (prologue) #steve rogers x y/n

[ceridescent]

what started in beautiful rooms — r., thérèse

thérèse raquin x female!reader

summary: you never really knew what’s behind those twinkling, green eyes.

warning/s: pure angst & adultery.

word count: 1, 229

author’s note: been fermenting in my drafts since november of 2022 i think it’s finally time it sees the light of day. i hope you like gay angst. ♡

masterlist | navigation

“you are all i could think about.”

she cannot even bear to look you in the eye, and yet, in this decadent condition, you took courage professing the revelation clogging your throat so surreal you had denied speaking. terrified to the point of refusal to eat, alive at most with your lips clipped together, barricading the words only for her to hear. 

dismissive her jaded eyes are, lingering in the vastness of the forest, indulging herself in the rejuvenating lush of greenery — she’d let her eyes get plucked by it, you suppose, with how wide-eyed she stares at anywhere but you. 

“what am i supposed to do with that?” her impertinence tips you to the brink of falling apart, although not quite, because she is just as nervous as you are. clamping her lower lip with her pearly white teeth, and now darting her gaze haphazard. she turns at you, “what do you wish me to say, y/n?” just as lost as you are. 

is she though?

lest you forget, she engineered all of this. 

you crawl closer to her, just enough to pretend that her husband is not resting on top of her legs, dozed and unaware of your conversation. 

you’ve only known thérèse for a while, and whilst you strain making sense of her hoaxes, you wish you had never gone into her aunt’s shop, enthusiastic and amicable to accept her dinner invitation with a shake of a hand. 

a tattooed smile lingered on your face basking into both you and thérèse’s interests, unintentionally disregarding the mother and son dining with you in the background. 

your eyelashes fluttering with a gaze so intense thérèse repeatedly stuttered with a blush on her pale face, admiration coating your orbs with your chin on top of your palm, tilting your head sideward as she talked about her wonderment at the glistening river near her aunt’s old abode from vermont; the lone thing she dearly missed. 

unseen was thérèse’s eye roll when her husband held and squeezed her hand, gladly speaking on behalf of his wife — she wouldn’t miss anything else from vermont, because the whole family is together. you were more than a stranger now that you had sparked an interest with thérèse but nonetheless a stranger — unaware of the faux laughter coming from her, indulged only in the crinkled smiles of the couple. 

that single, lovely dinner erected into visits, almost daily, thérèse knocking on the wood of your family’s abode during afternoons, when your parents have scattered be with their jobs, invited over for embroidery lessons. 

“press it lightly with just enough pressure, that’s right. good! don’t be too hard on the needle,” you whispered close thérèse’s ear, guiding her fingers with your own into weaving the needle into the fabric. 

you were crouched over the back of her frame whilst she sat on a padded stool, patiently waiting for your commands and evaluations. she was a diligent student who had a keen eye for details, yet at that moment she was sloppy. 

eyebrows knitted, confused with thérèse’s sudden burst of swiftness in movement, you reflexively pressed your hands around hers, locking them in (picked from your usual habit of teaching your younger sister), getting a good look at her up close. you caught sweat sliding down her forehead, the red burning on her pale cheeks, and the quiver of her plump mouth. 

“take a deep breath, thérèse-“ 

she did so, taking three breaths per second, alarming you further. “slower, thérèse. slow and steady for me,” you raspsed unintentionally, squeezing her tensed shoulders, the view of her apprehension catalyzing your body to warm without an appropriate reason you failed to explain. 

“you want me to go slow on you?”

it wasn’t a true question, you realized after she tossed the embroidery hoop to the ground, rising from the chair abruptly that unexpectedly your lips were clamped in between her own, slightly nipped and slightly licked, pinning you to the sofa. 

a muffled noise bubbled out of your swelling lips for the first time. it was ardently luscious that you wished she’d urge you to do it once more, grappling the nape of her neck, burrowing your fingers in ‘till you have nested yourself within her. 

lost in the moment you became pliable ditto clay, your blouse hastily unbuttoned, kneaded were your breasts by thérèse’s svelte hands, along with whispered salacious fantasies in your ear, her wedding band glistening due to the gleam of the sun. 

clandestine meetings brewed from that moment on. hidden in their quarters, basked in the rays of sunlight, the huge duvet that fit three people, thérèse’s warm hold. 

“how do i satiate myself of you?” she would whisper in your ear, breathy as she could be, empty and sore from a hushed sin veiled away by her incessant ‘migraines’ when asked her conditions from her aunt. 

you would chuckle, wrap your cramped arm around her tender frame, and give her forehead a kiss. 

drifting your thoughts direct toward the days you have not encountered the twinkle in her eyes — the playful smirk on her pink lips — the laugh so angelic you had worshiped it. 

“just-“ a leap of air alleviates from your lips, clawing out the whirling emotions permeating in your system. 

you stare at her for eons you have imagined her a statue. what a divine being to admire without being hurt, without the desire to touch. a stiff sculpture that appears dainty it would invoke jealousy within you. a material lifeless, at ease at its tense. a material not to long for. 

“y-you left me…”

unfathomable are the shake in your words, unaccepting of the feelings you have laced with it. “you do not- no…you refuse to care!”

“y/n!” thérèse’s half-scream bolts you from your senses, two drops of tears threatening to fall down in the law of gravity. you are stupefied by the sound of your name thrown from her lips — ginger, lipid, ashamed. thérèse used to lace it with vampishness, gentleness, and blitheness. 

you only cared. 

“y/n, please, let’s not- don’t do this, please.” her eyes watered, either of anxiety or spite you cannot determine. however, once you observed the trail she had left, of her gazing jade orbs — at your polished eyes and chapped lips, and soon the sleeping body of her husband. 

“then please, thérèse,” you sob her name, pleading for her. “tell me we mean something! this is more than hiding us away…”

“you are all i can think about, thérèse. please say something.” you wish to reach her hand, but enough of the touching. nor the staring. this is the riskiest attainment you have taken — asking for permanence from a woman whose hands are bound by another’s, nonchalant of your wisdom cracking away. 

thérèse observes her husband’s face for a long time, caressing his curls away from his face, ignoring your presence. a passerby would assume you are a maiden awaiting orders from her masters. a relationship between maiden and master cordial that she is treated as equal, sitting down against the warm grass, conversing over domestic activities or of scorching gossip. 

“we’re leaving paris, y/n. we’re going back to vermont.”

thérèse remains a statue. however, this time, she has become a blur. 

you weep in silence whilst she watches you, stiff in her shoulders, loose with her hands caressing her man.

#therese raquin x reader #therese raquin #wlw yearning #lesbian #elizabeth olsen

[masonmasters]

So a small one-shot I wanna make. Just for fun. Not even gonna edit before posting. This is just an idea scratching my brain.

Jason Todd had to leave Gotham for a bit. He might only be 14 but both parents were arrested and cps wanted to take him away. He got on a bus and went to a town a state over. It was a small town named Amity. The residents didn't pay much attention to things since it was considered a very haunted place. Things were usually blamed on ghosts.

Jason ended up at house that used to belong to a pair of ghost scientists before they left Amity swearing to never do anything with ghosts again. It was only abandoned in the early 2000s. And no one would say why. But it was still a rather nice house all considered. There was a lab in the basement that Jason decided not to go near.

One night when sleeping in a bedroom looking to belong to a young boy who loved outer space he hears a voice. It's echoey and hollow somehow "Why are you in my room?" Jason sits up and standing at the end of the bed is a young, white haired kid. A few years younger than Jason.

After Jason's eyes adjust he gasps seeing that this kid is glowing a soft green. And is clearly heavily injured. Electricity burns tracing his pale skin and sharpnel sticking out of his chest. Looking more his eyes are black. Not as in his irises or pupils. His irises are a bright green and his pupils are normal. The whites of his eyes are black.

Jason is sitting there in shock looking at this dead child staring at him

The child speaks again "Why are you in my bed?"

Jason finally speaks up "I lost my home. I just need a place to sleep."

The child nods understandingly "Okay. Well scoot over I'm tired too."

The next morning Jason learns that the child's name is Danny and that he died in his parents lab. His parents were devasted by the loss and left town in order to get away from what killed their son. But didn't realize that Danny was still in the home.

Danny wasn't tied to the place and could leave if he chose. But he had no where to go and the only loved ones he had were his immediate family. He was staying and waiting for them to return and realize he was still here.

Jason didn't know how to tell Danny that if they hadn't returned after almost a decade, they likely never were coming back. So instead Jason tells Danny about how he doesn't have any family right now either. And the two form their own family.

As Jason becomes older and is taken in by the bat family eventually becoming the Red Hood. Before he goes to get his vengeance he stops to get his first found family. His partner in crime.

#dp x dc #danny fenton #jason todd #danny phantom #dp au #writers on tumblr #writing #writeblr #fanfic #fandom

[the-kingshound]

I feel like I've said something similar before (so no need to answer), but can't find it, sorry your story just makes me ramble with theories, and I want to get deep into the world and characters building 😩

Honestly I get the Venegard parents. They're definitely not healthy, especially by modern standards, but there's a war going on. They're fighting for the freedom of their people, and they're raising their kids to continue the revolution. I understand the people who are playing a submissive mc who follows their parents out of fear and obligation, and I get the people who are playing an mc that is angry and glad to be escaping the cage. But I was wondering about the mc that is (a victim all the same, for various reasons - parents, enemy country, war - but) proud to fight for their people, even if they don't really get the plotting, they already have a hound disposition to their House. Would they have to betray their country/house to end up being loyal to Arthur? I think there isn't a route that makes you incredibly into the politics that's going on in Ireland, and doubt there will be after on (absolutely understandable, the amount of coding, or even how you feel your story should progress, and many other factors interfere into it). I guess that role ended up being Adrei's as the heir, and the hound, being the youngest, hasn't had any reason to be a fervorous loyalist to their country. There's also the war factor, that makes you wonder if there ever will be a winner, with so much loss (comrades, enemies, the war itself - the hound lost the war, they owe making things right to someone [themselves, the country, their parents]) and blood in the hound's own hands. But even so, I wonder what would the final straw be for mc to betray their home, if they are, at the begging, loyal to the Irish. Comfort? To a person that has only known harshness that simple day-to-day 'getting used to' could be a big pending to Camelot's side. But still... What if the hound's loyalty was less... Fluid? More stable? If the 'blood is thicker than water' was a mantra, became a truth... If they go in adamant that they're in a spy position, just waiting for their parents command to end the king, and get Ireland back. That turning point is making me chew my fingernails in anticipation (figuratively speaking). And that 'what is the hound willing to sacrifice for Arthur' ask got me thinking: indeed, how far will the Venegard's youngest go for the enemy's king.

I'll give you, hopefully, some more food for thoughs on the matter before answering your questions.

Right now, the goal of many Houses (including MC's parents) is not even to strictly achieve independence for Ireland. Most of all, they want their country to return to the old strength it held under the Emperor. They are nostalgic for that, and resentful because Uther exploited the vacancy on the Irish throne to swallow Ireland whole. But then again, the Empire had been going through a slow but constant decline for decades.

MC's parents, and other Houses, view Arthur as an outsider, and this is the reason why they don't want him ruling over them. They deem him weak, incapable as a leader, and son of a tyrant (no matter how tyrannical and brutal the same Emperor was).

So, keep in mind that sometimes the parents view might be distorted on some things. But, nonetheless, they have a strong motivation which one can agree with.

Now, as for MC. The fact is that I specifically wanted to tell the story of a person extremely loyal to the King, protective for their new family to the very end of things. Going for an option where MC agrees and supports their parents would complicate things quite a bit. Turning around the loyalty of MC would make for very different moments... it would just be so much to change and the whole premises would be altered somehow.

And you have to consider something: MC was told very very little about the rebellion, about their parents plan, about anything. This is part of the reason why from the start they feel some sort of betrayal/resentment towards their House. It is quite clear to MC how they were used as a puppet and despite the reasoning, they cannot but feel some sort of negative feelings over it. Adrei is the only sibling who knows part of the picture.

Every other sibling was kept always in the dark, politically, so not to be a source of information for their Welsh spouses or other Houses. And so that the parents can be the ones to control this difficult game in their own hands.

But your ask has given me a lot to think about for sure... (and this is the most difficult topic the game will have to face)

#ask #mc #mc's parents #thank you for sending this in it is making me have thoughs...

[thelighthousestale]

Works in Progress

Snuffles & Son - Sirius raises Harry and opens a shop that specializes in repairing cursed artifacts and places protection wards on family heirlooms. One day, an Unspeakable from the Department of Mysteries walks in with a cursed artifact from his cousin's confiscated Gringotts vault, requesting Sirius's assistance.

Rage Against The Dying Of The Light - In a universe where James and Lily Potter survive Voldemort's attack on Halloween night. Most of wizarding society is enjoying newfound peace after a decade of war, except the young heroes who fought the war learn you can never really go back to the way things were before

Be Not Afraid Of Greatness - A collection of Frank Longbottom stories

completed fics and one-shots under the cut

Marauder's Era/Jily

Unresolved Questions Of Wizard Cosmology - Ten-year-old Sirius and his father take a trip to the British Magical Observatory.

Those Whom The Gods Love Die Young - Once upon a time, four boys entered an ancient magical forest in Scotland. They loved life, the forest, and each other very much. Together, they become beasts of the woods and grow to understand the forest more than anyone else who had entered the magical realm before them.

Tree Cutting - Every Gryffindor in the tower heard Walburga's howler calling Sirius a filthy traitor. Lily knows what it feels like when someone you love calls you nasty names.

Career Advice with James F. Potter - Lily Evans is stressed about her career advice meeting but luckily James Potter is willing to share his expert advice on the matter.

A Decent Bloke - In the Hogwarts library, James Potter eats an apple while Lily Evans works on a History of Magic essay.

Perspective - Lily asks James about the Sacred Twenty-Eight. Lily also learns how soft James Potter's hands are.

Light Is The Most Glorious - James takes Lily on a journey around Hogwarts the night before the Christmas holidays.

Does Permanent Mean Forever? - It is James Potter's seventeenth birthday, and to commemorate the occasion, he proposes to the gang that they go out and get tattooed.

Your Friend, James - It is the summer before their 7th year, and Lily and James spend the entire holiday writing letters to each other as their relationship slowly changes from friends to something more.

Rumor Has It  - Severus doesn't believe the rumors that Lily finally agreed to go out with James Potter.

A Happy Thought - The 7th-year Defense Against the Dark Arts Class learns the Patronus Charm. James is shocked to learn what Lily's Patronus is.

A Promise - James sees no problem that they are only seventeen and have yet to meet each other's parents.

Hold On To The Memories, They Will Hold On To You - Lily Evans is ready to spend New Year's Eve alone in her bedroom until James Potter flies in and offers her a midnight ride.

A Miraculous Christmas Moment - A married Lily and James Potter wander around a London Christmas Market. James misses celebrating Christmas in Godric's Hollow.

Comfort and Joy - Baby Harry helps James decorate the Christmas Tree.

Querencia - The time Lily, James, and Harry spent as a family in their little house in the West Country was far too brief, but it was overfilled with love, laughter, and, above all, life.

Jily Challenge Fics

Three Lemons and a Dragon - Once upon a time there lived a Prince named James who had to save his father's Kingdom by getting married. One day an older woman gifts him three lemons that will lead him to his true love.

Erasmus Lovegoods’s Guide to Brewing Love Potions -At the start of every school year, the Ministry of Magic distributed leaflets to all students taking potions classes regarding the regulations and legality of highly controlled potions.

I'll Meet You After Dark - An Alternate Universe where the Statute of Secrecy hasn't been enacted yet. Tensions between the magical and non-magical communities are high.

My dog said I can't go out with you - Lily had been waiting patiently for James to ask her out for the first Hogsmeade weekend of the term. Sirius insists she turn James down so Sirius can hang out with her instead. (it's all part of Sirius' greater matchmaking plan)

Lighting Era

Goodbyes and Surprise Greetings - Ginny's brothers have abandoned her at the Burrow while they go to school or leave the country. But then she gets a surprise visitor.

The Past is a Bucket of Ash - Over burnt photographs, Harry had a late-night chat with Sirius about his family history.

The Parting Glass - The last full moon, Moony and Padfoot spend together.

Next Gen

We're Going On A Hippogriff Hunt -Two young boys go on a hippogriff hunt in the woods behind their house. Teddy hopes James doesn't figure out he knows nothing about hippogriffs.

Am I To Suffer This Constant Stream of Interruption? - Teddy Lupin and Victoire Weasley go on their first official date. James Sirius Potter is now a third-year at Hogwarts and is able to visit the village.

A Wonderful Idea - Vic planned a very grown-up date for her and Teddy. Too bad Teddy can't ice skate.

It's All About The Timing - James Sirius Potter has wanted to ask Ellie Longbottom out since he was twelve years old. Unfortunately, he can never get the timing right.

Know Your Roots - Albus Potter is unsure if helping Uncle Neville repot moonwort plants is part of detention or a lame attempt at godfather and godson bonding. It might be both.

#harry potter fanfiction #harry potter #james potter #sirius black #jily #lily potter #lily evans #remus lupin #jily fanfiction #peter pettigrew #ginny weasley #neville longbottom #james sirius potter #albus severus potter #teddy lupin #victoire weasley #hp next gen

[inconsistentwriting]

In between breaths

Notes: This was written with my OC in mind, but I tried to keep it as neutral as possible. GN! Reader x SingleDad! Ghost. “Mom” used as a role, not a gender thing. Kinda rushed end because Writer's Block was about to hit me. I put SMYL's "You knew it was me" EP and let my mind go wild.

I had met Simon Riley when we were children. A fateful Christmas, I had traveled with my family to enjoy the holidays in my uncle’s place. I was 12 years old, and it was my first Christmas knowing Santa wasn’t real. In hindsight, I’m glad I knew. If I hadn’t maybe Simon and I wouldn’t have become as close as we did. Midnight had arrives and the fireworks were roaring. I stood in the middle of the field behind my uncle’s yard until I saw a boy standing not too far. He was watching the fireworks, but he had a sad expression on his face. I decided to approach him to ask him why he was sad. That boy, I later learned, was named Simon and he was 8 years old. He explained to me that Santa hadn’t arrived in his home. I’ll never get over what I did, I can’t even remember how exactly it happened, but I put on a face, as if I was deep in thought. After a second I raised a finger, declaring: “Santa didn’t forget about you, he just got confused with the address. I was wondering whose the extra presents under my tree were for. Wait right here, I’ll go bring them for you”. I’ll never stop being grateful to my quick-wit. A teddy bear and a football, part of my presents which I just gave up for the younger boy to have. A teddy bear and a football changed the entire trajectory of my life.

Now, I’m 26 years old and I am in college, studying medicine. Simon and I remained friends throughout of childhood and teenage years. For more than a decade, we were there for each other. I helped him deal with his pain in a healthier way, to open up, even if only a little. We were very close until I had to move away for college. Now it’s been three years since we last saw each other. My studies kept me away for too long and my mental health was begging me for a break, so I decided to spend the summer back at home, and maybe, just maybe, see Simon once again. I wondered how he must have been all these years. He would be 22, and a half, as he always felt the need to remark. I wondered if he had found a partner, a job, something to study. What had been of him all these years?

Whatever I had hoped to find surely wasn’t anything like the scene before me. After arriving to our town, I saw Simon’s mom running errands in the market, pushing a baby stroller. I approached to say hello and catch up, and she introduced me to the little boy on the stroller. His name was Ken, and he was Simon’s son. The little boy was holding the same teddy bear I had given Simon 14 years before. I guess my shock must have been very apparent because she rushed to explain. Turns out, during a one night stand, Simon’s protection broke, resulting in the sleeping toddler on the carriage. She explained that his mother didn’t want to be involved in his life, so she left, and that Simon had been raising him on his own. Simon’s mom helped whenever she could, but with her other son in rehab, it had become very hard for her. The story broke my heart, not only because of the idea of his mother abandoning the little ray of sun that slept peacefully in his stroller, but the idea of Simon, who I know had no idea of how to be a father, doing it all on his own.

The moment I could finally catch Simon and speak with him, it seemed as if those three years apart meant nothing, as if no time had passed between us. I asked why he never told me, why he never asked me for help. He said the obvious excuse, “You were busy with school”, “I didn’t want to worry you”, etc. He introduced me to Ken and I decided to take a semester off to help him a little with the day to day, to see if I could help him grow confident in his parenting. By accident, I found out, Simon had ended up spoiling his son a little. The little boy had no idea how to regulate his emotions and Simon was definitely not a great example. Si wasn’t abusive at all, that’s the only thing he knew, never to put his hands on his kid, like his father had done; but he had no idea on how to properly calm down a child. It took time and patience, but with time I was able to see the growth of both Simon and Ken.

One day, after a long day at work, Simon had arrived home tired and stressed. He entered the kitchen, where I was, keeping an eye on dinner. Ken was peacefully sleeping on my arms; poor angel was exhausted after a long day. My best friend made his way towards me and pressed his forehead against my shoulder.

-Rough day today, huh?

-Terrible one.

-I think I know of something that’ll cheer you up a bit.

I pointed at the kitchen table, where a sheet of paper laid, surrounded by crayons. The paper said “My Hero” and under it was a drawing of Simon holding Ken. When Simon grabbed it, a tired smile crept up to his lips before he turned around to plant a kiss on the little sleeping toddler on my arms.

-He also did his homework before I even told him anything.

-Homework? He is barely three.

-His homework is drawing with crayons, not calculus, Si. It’s only so he can learn the habit and it’s easier for him to keep it going when he grows up.

I giggled, shaking my head. I saw his open arms, silently asking me to hold his kid. I handed him the sleeping child, who tossed a little as I did.

-Why was he sleeping on your arms?

-Poor baby was tired, but he wanted to stay with me, so I offered holding him. When he fell asleep, I tried to put him down on his bed, but he’d always wake up fuzzy about it.

-He really loves being around you. He got that from me.

-I suppose he did.

Simon sat down on one of the chairs around the kitchen table, hugging his son and feeling the tension and stress of the day melt off.

-Coming home to you two feels like a dream. Your presence and Ken’s hugs make a shitty day really feel like nothing more than a bad dream. Your presence really helped us. It helped me. Thank you.

-I want to be able to be here for you, Si. Not only now, but every time. You are one of the most important people to me, and I would’ve loved to be here since the start.

-I’m sorry I never told you.

-I understand why you did it, though.

The evening passed by, Ken woke up and started to talk to his father about his day, Simon shared the sweet moment with his child and I finished making dinner. We all sat down to eat, we talked and laughed, and by the end, as he cleaned his mouth with a napkin, Ken said in that bubbly voice of his

-Thank you mama.

Simon and I were shocked. He almost choked on the drink on his glass, and I almost dropped the plates I had gathered. Simon was the first to come out of our shock.

-What did you say, buddy?

-Thank you mama.

In his innocence, Ken hadn’t notice the confusion and shock in his father’s voice. I didn’t want the boy to think he did something wrong, so I quickly answered

-You are welcomed, Kenny.

Simon and I both tried to keep our cool. We cleaned up the dishes, tidied up and took Ken to bed. We tucked him in like we always did and then Simon dared to ask the toddler.

-Hey little man, I need to ask you something. Why did you call them mama earlier?

-Because they are mama shaped. They are nice and good and care for me. Like a mama.

I could barely contain the tears building up on the corners of my eyes. The little baby boy I had come to love as my own also considered me as his own. I was speechless. I could only hug him a little tighter and kiss his chubby little cheeks before saying goodnight. After we put the boy down to sleep, Simon and I sat down to talk about what had happened. Before he could even get a world in, I decided to talk.

-If you don’t feel comfortable with Kenny calling me mama, I’ll talk to him about it. I’ll let him know I’m only your friend and everything, It’s okay-

Before I could continue rambling, Simon grabbed my face between his hands.

-Stop, stop. Quit overthinking for a second and listen.

I locked my gaze with those beautiful big brown eyes of his, instantly stopping to listen to him.

-Look… I noticed the tears that built up on your eyes when Ken called you like that. I know you, and I know how much this means to you. And honestly? It means a lot for me too. My son sees you as his mama, and I’d give anything for this beautiful relationship between you two to keep this pureness. In his eyes and in mine, you are the only mama he’s ever known. If you feel comfortable with him calling you that way, I would be so happy…

I couldn’t help myself. I could only interrupt him with a hug, pulling him so close to my body, as if afraid he might change his mind if I let go.

-I’d love to. I want to be here for both of you. You are so important to me; I can’t imagine a life without both of you in it. I want to keep being Kenny’s mama. I want to take care of him, to love him and to love you.

The last few words came out as a surprise to both of us. I hoped he hadn’t heard or that he’d think nothing of it, but as he pulled me away to look into my eyes, I could see the shock on his eyes.

-You mean that? You actually feel like that? I’m not dreaming, am I?

Sheepishly, I nodded. I couldn’t let the words out, but there was no turning back now. I wanted to look up, to see his reaction, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. What if he changed his mind about me being around his son? What if I just fucked up our friendship? What if…? Before my mind could go any further down the rabbit hole, his fingers found my chin, making me look up into his eyes.

-You really love me? Despite having seen the ugly side of me? Despite how hard I was all throughout our teenage years? Despite the fact I made myself unreachable for three years because I was ashamed of not knowing what the hell I was doing? You love me?

His voice carried the disbelief I knew he always held when someone showed him love like this. He thought himself undeserving, and it crushed my soul. I thought to myself, “What the hell, he already knows, might as well show him how serious I am”, before leaning in and kissing his lips. I wanted to leave no doubt on his mind. I wanted him to understand. To my surprise, he pulled me closer, kissing me back as I melted in his embrace. After a couple of seconds, we pulled away from each other to look into the other’s eyes. We didn’t have to say much, guided by the feeling of each other’s arms, lips, smiles. It flowed like natural, it felt correct, and any doubt dissipated between kisses and I love you’s. We just cuddled on the couch, feeling the weight lifting from our shoulders, as we hugged, kissed, talked and laughed.

I was glad he didn’t have to work in the morning, because neither of us wanted to let go…

#gn reader #cod x reader #cod mw x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #cod fluff #call of duty fanfiction #call of duty x reader

[threeletterslife]

35 | Legends of Darlaria

⨰ summary: You wake up in yet another unfamiliar place. This time, however, these strangers seem to recognize you. With your previous judgments and aspirations thrown out the window, you're now forced to face where your loyalties really lie. Who will you betray? And which General will you choose to stand by his side?

⨰ pairing/rating: yoongi x reader & jungkook x reader | PG-15

⨰ genre: 70% angst, 30% fluff | war!au & magic!au

⨰ warnings: profanity, descriptions of injury and war

⨰ wordcount: 5.5k

⨰ join the taglist! (pm/send in an ask/reply/reblog)

⨰ previous | series m.list | next

⧖⧗Many, Many Circas Ago⧗⧖

Time flew by quicker than you could comprehend. Before you knew it, you and Hajin were several circas away from graduating. It didn’t feel believable, considering you were only 14 when you joined the program. You were 19 now, the same age Jungkook was when he met you. 

Five years. 

That was quite a hefty bit of time, yet strangely, it didn’t feel that way at all. But then again, when you looked back on all the memories you made during those five years, they felt enough to fill a decade. 

Sometimes, it made you wonder if the moments you spent right now would end up in your chamber of recollection years into the future. You knew for sure that Hajin’s excited (and near-daily) speeches about her approaching 18th birthday would be seared into your memory.

“It needs to come quicker,” she would always say. “I’m not allowed to go to battle until I’m 18, guys! Isn’t that so stupid? Sometimes Dad is so overprotective, ugh!” She’d huff. “Oh, but it’s still so, so close! Just a few more circas! My life goal of avenging my mother, guys!” she’d say, jumping up and down and grasping your hands. “It’s just right there! Oh, Y/N! The day we go off to our first battle together will be the day that my life will be complete! I can’t wait to kick Darlaean ass!”

Jungkook would never really comment on it to Hajin’s face, but you knew he didn’t believe in vengeance. I don’t get it, he had confided to you privately, late at night in the orchard. Who is she really inflicting revenge on? It’s not like she knows who killed her mother.

He made a good point, which he always did, but you understood Hajin as well. She hated the Solarians—she always made that clear. She was never looking to get revenge on any specific person; instead, she wanted revenge on the group of people who happened to have produced the soldier who murdered her mother. Maybe if you and Jungkook were close to your parents as Hajin was close to hers, you would want to do the same.

So, you thought it was honorable for your best friend to do what she did for her dead mother, and you also thought it was honorable that Jungkook fought for a place where he would finally belong. He’d already made a name for himself amongst the cadets.

But then again, so had you.

You whipped your head around so hard that if you hadn’t been so focused on your three targets, you would’ve completely knocked the wind out of yourself. Seokjin was charging at you with full force from your right, Taehyung was preparing to haul a heavy weight at you on your left, then Jisun was in mid-air at your center, ready to deliver a hard kick to your head.

Your ears rang as you dodged Jisun’s kick, squatting to the ground. Then, with the technique that General Son taught you himself, you swept your outstretched leg across and managed to trip both Taehyung and Seokjin. While Seokjin kept his balance, stumbling slightly, Taehyung tumbled to the ground, nearly dropping the heavy weight on his foot.

“Didn’t see that coming!” Taehyung huffed out, though he had a rather boxy grin on his face. Almost lazily, he brushed himself off, taking all the time in the world to grab a metal fork on the ground and size-shifting it so it was the size of a large dagger. “Come on now, there’s three of us and one of you!”

“Principle of dueling, Taehyung,” Seokjin reminded the younger man as he strategically moved to your blind spot with Jisun right behind him. “Minimize talking, maximize attacking.”

“But you were talking just now!” Taehyung pouted. He rolled his eyes when he caught sight of Seokjin’s unimpressed look. “Fine.”

All three of them lunged at you again, and this time, you dodged to the side, sweat flying off of your neck. You were panting heavily, not having expected this duel to last as long as it had. Stamina was never really your strong suit, and everybody knew that. You could just see Seokjin calculating your weaknesses behind those hard eyes of his. In many ways, he almost reminded you of Jungkook—but then again, Seokjin never had that gentle side that Jungkook revealed to you many times. But perhaps that was because you didn’t know him well enough. There had to be more to him than his stickler-for-rules-like personality. Or perhaps, that’s just who he was as a person and you were in no place to judge.

But wait a minute.

Focus! you scolded yourself. You’re in a fucking duel!

Yes, the duel. You needed to end it, but you also weren’t quite sure if you could accomplish three successful maskings at once. Of course, you’ve done it plenty of times in practice, but that was when your heart wasn’t beating in your head a little too loudly and the world wasn’t spinning madly around you.

Out of the corner of your eyes, you saw Jisun side-stepping to prepare a kick to your side. Seokjin was picking up a prop from the ground, and Taehyung had already masked a gigantic ladle and was ready to hurl it at you. You didn’t have much time. 

Which meant there certainly wasn’t enough time for you to start doubting yourself.

Jisun’s foot was inches away from your face now.

Use what you’ve practiced! your head was screaming at you.

What if it doesn’t work? you yelled back.

Oh, come on, don’t think like that.

The last part had been in Jungkook’s voice. He had made a habit of saying that to you in your self-doubt moments and hearing it made you feel a little better. You could almost imagine that proud look on his face when you hypothetically emerged from this duel victorious. 

The imagination was short-lived, however. You just barely dodged Jisun’s kick, the force of it so strong that you could hear the wind whoosh near your head. You stumbled back a few steps, your heart threatening to beat out of your chest.

You can do it, Y/N.

Were you imagining his voice?

No, that was him. 

Tap, tap, tap… Tap, tap.

You could recognize the rhythm of monocode anywhere. 

Right. You had an audience. Jungkook was watching you, along with Hajin and General Son. He was rooting for you.

You can do it, he repeated, tapping steadily on his sword trinket. You can do it.

The repetition of his words made you want to believe it; you could do it. You could duel three other cadets and still emerge victorious; you could show General Son how capable you were. You could confirm to him that you had what it took to graduate.

Steady breaths, now.

You nodded and focused your breathing. You couldn’t hear anything anymore, save for the sound of your heart beating in your chest. Your eyes closed and your breathing steadied. Then, you let your imagination run wild.

By the time you opened your eyes, your opponents were in three wildly different predicaments. Jisun was screaming, clawing at her eyes, which had turned into two shining green gems that shared an uncanny likeness to her birthstone. Taehyung was running around in circles, though he wasn’t covering much distance as he was now the size of a well-fed rat. And Seokjin, well, his legs had collapsed underneath him, transparent and wobbling like jello—well, as jello, really.

“Y/N!” Taehyung yelled, but it came out as more of a squeak.

You did it, Jungkook spelled out in monocode.

I did it, you tapped your fingers on your arm.

There was nothing much your opponents could do as everybody quickly found out that no cadet had the skills to reverse your alchemy. Your three opponents promptly surrendered—humbly, too. Immediately, you lifted the maskings.

“Well, we tried,” Taehyung snorted, patting your back. He was always a good sport, though this must’ve been about the hundredth time you beat him in a duel. You were supposedly graduating with him in several circas—unless he graduated first. You had a feeling Hoseok wanted to hold onto you and his daughter for a little while longer. “At this rate, I won’t ever be able to beat you, Y/N!” 

“I will say though, I did not enjoy having my legs turned into jelly,” Seokjin admitted with a frown.

“Yeah? Well, try having your eyes turned into emeralds!” Jisun laughed. “Who would’ve ever thought?”

Seokjin shook his head, though now, there was a small smile on his lips. Then, he turned around and saluted you, two fingers pressed to his forehead. “I’ve trained for two more years than you,” he said, keeping his posture impossibly rigid. “But you beat me time and time again.” 

That was true. Seokjin was also quite the veteran in the Cadet Corps and was a Botswana Agate alumnus as well. He also happened to be three years older than you, but he respected you just as much as one would respect General Son. It was always admirable how seriously he took his training; there were even rumors that he would be promoted to a private as soon as he graduated, which was only in a couple of circas, the same as Jungkook.

“You’re ranked third, Seokjin,” you reminded the man with a reassuring smile. “Besides, you’re a Botswana alumnus. Stop saluting me, you’re making me nervous!”

“He’s just practicing for the future,” Taehyung snorted. “When you become the General one day.”

“Oh, that’s not going to happen,” you said, cheeks heating up. “There are far more qualified people.” By people, you mostly meant Jungkook. Hell, even Seokjin himself would make a better General than you.

As you walked back to the stands where a proud-looking Jungkook and Hajin were waiting for you, you nervously anticipated General Son’s feedback. He looked unimpressed as usual, but he wasn’t frowning, so it looked like you hadn’t done too horribly—you’d won the duel, after all. Yet with General Son, simply winning was never enough. 

His black eyes pierced into yours as he cleared his throat. “Agile movements,” he began, nodding approvingly. “Good recognition of attack patterns. Subpar stamina, however. Especially don’t daydream while in battle; don’t waste your energy. And closing your eyes before casting your hexes is an inadequate practice, cadet.”

“I’ll work on that, sir,” you said.

“I see you’ve created a couple of new hexes,” he continued.

“Yes, sir.”

“Interesting,” he commented. “Not very lethal, are they?”

You weren’t sure if he was asking a rhetorical question, but to be safe, you simply nodded. “Yes, sir.”

General Son stared at you for a bit, which suddenly made you painfully aware of the sweat dripping down your back. You were itching to scratch your nose too, but in his gaze, it felt like you should be frozen in place. Finally, after what seemed like hours, the General turned away to face your boyfriend. “Jungkook, you’re up.”

Immediately, the tension left your shoulders. 

“Here,” Hajin whispered as you took a seat next to her, facing the arena. She handed you a handkerchief.

“Thanks,” you whispered back, dabbing at your sweat with the cloth.

“He was way nicer to you than he was with me,” Hajin giggled quietly. “That means you did really well, so don’t sweat it!”

It was a little too late for that, the back of your uniform was already drenched in sweat, but Hajin’s words were still quite encouraging. Yet, no matter how many times you dueled, you always got a little nervous before each one—even though you knew you were capable of winning. And even after the duel—especially after private duels where only the General was in attendance—the anxiety never left. Mainly because you never knew the kind of feedback you would get. And even when you got feedback, sometimes you had a hard time interpreting it.

Jungkook and Hajin, on the other hand, were never nervous before or after their duels. They never took their feedback personally either, which you wished you could do. 

You and Hajin watched as Jungkook stepped into the arena, not a single look of doubt on his face. His sword was swinging from his belt as he stood, the studded sapphire twinkling in the sunlight. His eyes swept across the arena as he sized up his three opponents. They looked terrified, rightfully so. Jungkook’s duels were intense, and even that would be an understatement.

When the duel commenced, you held your breath. Even Hajin, who normally cheered everyone on during duels, was quiet. Both of you watched Jungkook move with the wind. 

He was quick, and no one could ever predict where he would be next. 

His whims were violent, and if the opponents hadn’t had their lightning-quick reaction times, they would’ve been injured—maybe even worse. He had them scrambling left and right until he backed them up against the wall and forced them to surrender, just as he did with all of his previous opponents. He had the stamina to fight for longer, but he never toyed with his opponents; he won quickly, not because he was afraid, like you, but because he found it easy to do so. 

Even so, General Son always had critiques. “Don’t turn your back on your opponents. Ever. Cadet, I thought you would know better. Your whims lack finesse; they’re messy, do you understand? Just because you use light magic doesn’t mean you are allowed to be sloppy. And don’t wave your sword around like it’s some rapier. You are not a swordsman; you are an alchemist. Act like one.”

Jungkook stood still, taking all of the feedback in. He normally never took these comments personally, but today, he was staring at his feet, a dark cloud cast over his face.

“Yes, sir,” he said, but he sounded frustrated.

“Hello, cadet. Sit down, yes, there, that’s fine.”

After saluting him, you carefully sat across from the General’s desk, resting at the very edge of the wooden chair. “Hello, sir. You, um, called for me?”

He had no papers out, which was strange. He always did when he called you into his study for your weekly private lessons. 

General Son folded his hands and placed them on his desk; you stared, wondering if you were in any trouble. Perhaps he wanted to privately scold you for what you’d done in the three-way duel today. Perhaps you had done worse than you thought. Perhaps he was going to comment on the mediocracy of your assignments; perhaps they weren’t up to par with his standards, and he wanted to knock some sense into you. Perhaps— 

“—for the battlefield.”

You blinked. “S-Sorry, sir?”

“I said, you’re ready for the battlefield, cadet.”

Your eyes widened. That was the last thing you had expected to hear from him. The world began to spin as you attempted to process General Son’s words. You tried to steady yourself, tried to get words out of your mouth, but you were unable to speak.

“You’re ready,” General Son repeated. “Do you not think so, cadet?”

You couldn’t think of anything else to say, so you blurted out the first thing that popped into your head: “But s-sir, I-I still have several circas left before graduation!”

“It does not matter,” he said. “I want you to graduate alongside Cadet Kim Seokjin and Cadet Jungkook. If need be, I will convince his majesty to let you go. I know how much he wants you and his daughter to stay in the 12th city.”

A thousand thoughts were whizzing through your head. Ready for the battlefield? How? You barely felt ready yourself! To graduate after all of these years… Shouldn’t you be happy? Five years was far longer than the time any other cadet spent in the program. So why was there a sinking feeling in your stomach? 

“B-But I—I mean, but sir, today, you said it yourself that my hexes aren’t lethal enough.”

General Son nodded. “I did say that, yes. And it is true, cadet. My taste in charms is more akin to your boyfriend’s. But you must understand that this particular war is about taking ground. Of course, the easiest way to do that would be to kill, but I have no qualms about your method. Clearly, it works.”

“B-But…” You began nervously tugging at your necklace. You couldn’t graduate early. Hajin was counting on you! You promised you would march into your first battle together. She would be devastated if she found out that you were going to leave her alone in the 12th city. You couldn’t do that to her.

And maybe there was another, bigger reason you didn’t want to graduate early. Maybe it was that horrible, twisting feeling in your gut that seemed to eat away at your insides. Maybe it was the urge to vomit whenever someone even mentioned the gruesome details of the battlefield. Maybe it was the occasional nightmares, too, where the battlefield presented itself as one large arena and the entire Solarian army was your opponent. 

You didn’t know what to say. But you knew you couldn’t tell him you were apprehensive.

“Tell me the truth, cadet,” General Son said. “There must be a reason you’re so hesitant.” When you looked reluctant to tell him, he sighed. “I will not judge you. I want to know why.”

You looked down at your hands folded in your lap. You could tell him half of the truth. Yes, that seemed like the right move to make. “I promised to graduate with Hajin, sir,” you said, slowly, carefully and, most of all, with remorse. “I promised to march into our first battle together. I know it sounds silly… I’m sorry, sir. I don’t want to disappoint you.”

General Son raised his eyebrows. You thought for a second that he realized you weren’t giving him the full story. But how could he? You didn’t give a reason to suspect otherwise. So you thought he might berate you and call you insolent or yell some sense into you so you could change your mind, but he didn’t. Instead, he leaned back in his chair and sighed. “I promised myself I wouldn’t rob you of the joys of your early life,” the General said, eyebrows furrowing. “It’ll only get harder from here.”

You wanted to ask what he meant by that, but you were too scared to, not after you’d just rejected his perfect offer to fight for Darlae; any other cadet would’ve jumped at this sort of opportunity. You felt guilty for not taking it. 

But General Son was wise. He knew what he was talking about. And though he never called his cadets young or naïve to their faces, his sheer wisdom made them realize their deficiencies anyway. In a way, it was also possible he knew you weren’t telling him everything. Perhaps he already saw straight through you; perhaps he knew you were afraid and didn’t want to embarrass you. Although, sparing someone from embarrassment wasn’t exactly something you ever imagined General Son would do.

“Hoseok wants you and Hajin to stay out of the battlefield until autumn,” General Son said. “You’re saying you will wait for six circas?” 

You nodded. “Yes, sir.”

He stared at you without a single change in expression. “Very well.”

You found Jungkook in your normal spot in the orchards that night. He was sulking a little, back hunched over as he sat on the grass, staring at his shoes. Jungkook was always one to mind his posture, so to see him stooped over like that meant he wasn’t in a good mood. It was rare to see him outwardly so disappointed, and you had a rather good inkling about what this could be about.

Quietly, you sat next to him, leaning on his shoulder. He didn’t move, only continued to stare at his shoes.

“You know General Son doesn’t give out many compliments,” you said. “You shouldn’t worry.”

Jungkook sighed. “He doesn’t seem to have a problem dishing out compliments for you, Y/N.”

Your eyes widened. “He said my magic’s not lethal enough. And he knows I have shit stamina, too.”

“Yeah? Well, he likes you better,” was Jungkook’s curt reply.

You frowned, eyebrows furrowing. “I don’t know about that… Look, it shouldn’t matter who General Son likes more, don’t you think? We’re all going to war, anyway.”

“Yes, but…” Jungkook paused, finally looking at you with his soft doe eyes. Tonight, they were filled with disappointment, of a slight twinge of dissatisfaction. “But have you ever considered who General Son’s successor would be?”

You blinked. Of all of the things you overthought about, never once have you considered who would be the next General of the Darlaean Army. It felt so far away… a switch that would happen in decades.

“When he dies, you’ll be named the new General,” Jungkook said, matter-of-factly. 

You frowned. Did he read a few of his runes again? Why did he sound so sure about something that seemed almost impossible? You could never be the next General. You were definitely not what General Son was looking for; he said it yourself that you weren’t lethal enough. You lacked stamina and charisma, too. If anything, you always thought Jungkook would be the next ideal General. He was almost exactly like General Son, anyway—in fighting style, strategy and personality.

“I… I could never be the General,” you said, shaking your head. “It just doesn’t… I don’t know, General Son’s only training me so I could possibly become a private one day. I’m only good at battle plans, Jungkook. I don’t have what it takes to be the sole leader of an entire army. I think you have what it takes to be the next General, though. I’ve told you that before, and I’m telling you again.”

Jungkook just shook his head. “I may have the traits, but I’m not what General Son is looking for. At most, I’ll become a Lieutenant General.” 

Your mouth opened to question the assurance in his voice, but he stood right up, offering his hand to help you up as well. “Let’s take a walk,” he said before you could get a word out. “I need to clear my head.”

It was times like this when you realized how ambitious Jungkook really was. It was no secret that he dreamed of becoming the General of the Darlaean Army one day; he didn’t have many obstacles to achieving that dream, either. He was already getting private lessons from General Son; every cadet and some soldiers from the 1st city knew his name. He was insanely talented and easily the best dueler in the squadron. The thought that you might be an obstacle never even crossed your mind.

But he was frustrated, and you knew how much he wanted to be the best version of himself. It was simply a part of his journey. 

You tried to understand. 

Nearly two years into your relationship with Jungkook, your parents finally somehow found free time out of their busy schedules to meet him. You were nervous, wondering if they were going to approve, or worse: if they would even care about him at all. Jungkook, on the other hand, was overjoyed to meet them.

“They asked for me,” he kept saying the entire way to your parents’ fancy home. “They specifically told you they wanted to meet me!” He wore his best clothes, though they were slightly offset by the sword he kept around his belt. “I hope they like me,” he said. When he noticed you tugging anxiously at your necklace, he interlaced his fingers with yours; the coolness of his hand helped ease some of your stress. “Hey, it won’t be the end of the world if they hate me or something. I’ll work on what they tell me to fix.”

But it turned out that your parents saw no flaws in your boyfriend whatsoever. In fact, it almost seemed like they liked him more than you. You told them a while ago in passing that Jungkook was an innate divinist, but you didn’t think they’d care so much that they’d gift the two of you matching divination-charmed canvases.

You stared at your canvas in confusion. The deep purple threads undulated like the waves of the Sapphire Lake; it was pretty, but you had no idea how to read it. Jungkook, on the other hand, was delighted.

“I’ve always wanted one of these,” he said with a genuine smile. He rarely smiled like that in front of people he just met. “Thank you.”

One hour in, he was already calling your parents by their first names.

Two hours in, your parents were practically swooning over him and asking him when he would become their son-in-law.

Three hours in, they were devastated when they found out he was going to battle in just two circas.

“You have to take care of yourself, honey,” Ma told him. “Oh, I wish you had chosen another career… You would truly shine as a royal divinist.”

Jungkook just smiled, shaking his head. “It takes patience to become a scholar,” he said. “I commend you for the research you’ve done, but I want to help your daughter fight for our nation’s liberty from this harrowing war.” He spoke so eloquently, in the kind of scholarly language that you knew your parents would fall head over heels for.

“Even risking your own life?” Mother asked. She was frowning, but she didn’t necessarily look like she disapproved—only a tad bit worried. “What a brave young man.”

“Our nation is lucky to have someone like you on our side,” Ma gushed.

A spike of annoyance shot through you, though you tried to chase that feeling away immediately. But you couldn’t stop yourself from thinking scornfully, What about me?

“I’m sure you can see it too, Sura,” Mother said, nodding in approval. “This man has the makings of a king.”

“Yes, of course, Eunbi!” Ma nodded. “I can see it as clear as day. He must be able to see it too.”

“Such a splendid thing, divination is.”

Jungkook’s eyes sparkled.

You couldn’t wait to go back to the training grounds.

It was now Circa Ruby and Hajin’s birthday was just around the corner. But neither of you felt too festive. Jungkook had gone off to battle, moved entirely to the 1st city, and you were worried sick, while Hajin couldn’t wait to hear about his experience. 

“We’ll be out there doing the same in Circa Opal!” Hajin said, grasping your hands excitedly. “I can’t wait, Y/N! Oh, I really can’t wait! Can time go any faster? I might die in anticipation!”

Conversely, you hoped Circa Opal would never come. 

You knew what the Solarians were capable of. You’ve visited the infirmary wing so many times that you’ve completely lost count. If anything happened to Jungkook, you didn’t know what you would do… He was only 21; much too young to have his life cut short. You didn’t want him to suffer. 

Now, everything felt so real… Going to battle wasn’t just a simple phrase, it was an action that could get you killed. And you didn’t want to die—not from asphyxiation, not from burn wounds, not from being lit on fire. It terrified you so much. You thought about being burned to death so often that you dreamed about it, sometimes waking up in your private chambers in the castle screaming and sweating.

You hated it. Why were you so afraid? Why couldn’t you be brave like the others? 

And even worse, the thought of someone else’s blood spilling on your hands… It was horrifying. It didn’t matter if they were the enemy; the Darlaeans and Solarians looked indistinguishable. It would feel like you were killing your own people. Your skin crawled just thinking about it. Unfortunately, you thought about it quite often, especially when Jungkook finally found the time to come back from the 1st city and had a plethora of battlefield stories to tell.

“And then,” he said, making a slicing motion with his hand, “I completely severed his arm off!”

Hajin gasped, her eyes turning wide as she looked ready for him to say more. You felt like throwing up.

“It was amazing,” Jungkook said, his doe eyes sparkling. “The adrenaline rush, charging forward in perfect formation, paving my own path ahead… I would do it over and over and over again. Needless to say, we won the last few battles we’ve had over this past week,” he said quite proudly. “I heard the enemy forces have been retreating. Too many casualties.”

“Damn right, those helluvians should be retreating!” Hajin said, pumping her fist in the air. “You’re so lucky, Jungkook.”

“Hm, I suppose,” he replied. “They’re thinking about promoting me to private soon.”

“It’s only been a week!” Hajin gushed. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’m happy for you!”

You were proud, too. But soon after, worry superseded that sentiment.

Jungkook spent most of his time in the 1st city now, as a soldier, soon to be private. You only got to see him during the weekends, when he came back for his lessons with General Son. For days, you were left in the dark about his well-being and it scared you to think he could be dead at any second and you wouldn’t even know. At one point, you were so worried that you hung the charmed canvas your parents gifted you on your ceiling and attempted to read it. But you were never good at divination, and those enigmatic swirls of thread never meant anything to you.

Every time he came back from his duty in the 1st city, Hajin bombarded him with questions. You stood to the side, looking him over for any cuts and bruises. But he always came back unscathed.

“Are you ever tired?” you asked him once, while the two of you took a walk in the orchard. He was now a private, with control over subordinates, and got to report to a sergeant. “Is it ever tiring?”

“No,” Jungkook said, cocking his head. “I feel… awakened.”

Awakened…

You were silent for so long that Jungkook had to gently tap on your arm, You’re worried. Talk to me.

Of course you were worried. You were worried about his safety, your damn safety when you eventually marched off to battle, and hurting people who didn’t deserve it—even if they were the enemy… You hesitated. Would he judge you for all of these worries? Would he even understand? Would he condemn you for being weak? No, Jungkook would never do that. He loved you. 

“I don’t know if I can ever do it,” you whispered. You didn’t know what else to say.

Miraculously, Jungkook seemed to understand. At least partly. “You don’t have to kill anyone if you don’t want to,” he said gently. “I just find it easier.”

“Easier?” Your voice raised an octave, although you didn’t really mean to do it.

He turned to you, an unreadable look on his face. “It’s a war,” he said. “It becomes easier when you realize that if you don’t kill them first, they’ll kill you.”

“I don’t understand,” you said. “If the war is about gaining territory, then why do we kill?”

“You know why,” he said. And you did; you and he have read hundreds of books about politics and warfare. But perhaps you had to hear it from him, and he realized that. “What would we do with all of those prisoners? It’s unsustainable to keep them all. What if they escaped? If we don’t kill on the battlefield, we’re not affecting the enemy’s forces. They’ll come back again and again with full force, and we’ll tire ourselves out. We can’t believe that they’re human, Y/N.”

You understood what he was saying, and you knew you had to agree. But… There was something else in the back of your mind. The lurking trepidation that visited you in your dreams and manifested itself as a black hole in your guts. It was something that you weren’t ready to share just yet—not even with someone you loved; it was simply too humiliating. So, you settled for a defeated, “Yeah… That makes a lot of sense.”

“But you don’t have to kill,” he reassured you once more. “With your talent, you won’t need to.”

You tried to smile. “Right… Thanks, Jungkook.”

“No problem,” he said, but he was frowning.

You know you can tell me everything, right? his eyes were saying.

I know, you thought. I know.

⨰ previous | series m.list | next

⨰ a/n: i refused to be a day late again!! here it is :)) drama will ensure soon hehe

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[the-au-thor]

Hi, I saw you are accepting requests, and I read A la Velocidad de la Luz, it was amazing! I was thinking about they as parents, maybe reader's dream about having those 6 Nuggets with Steve and traveling to California being real would be great? I mean I'd like to see all the story but with this idea i'll be super happy, only if you like it, of course!

This is a very cute idea! I kinda wanted to add some babysitting munson but I'm still not sure lol, I kept it simple tho. Hope you like this one!

Remember to read this content warning before reading.

First part here and second part here

A la Velocidad de la Luz (at the Speed of light) | Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

"Robin called, said she'll be in Malibu by the time we get there," you said, trying to fix your hair while the trailer was in motion.

"Yeah, did you tell her she'll be the official nanny for the next week?" Steve asked, flipping through radio stations.

You chuckled while starting to braid Alice's long brown hair.

"She's aware. She and Vicki can't wait to babysit and do auntie duties," you expertly finished your daughter's hairdo, and she happily went to her seat behind the trailer to start playing with her twin, Jo.

You and Steve started having babies more than a decade ago. It wasn't exactly planned; you just got tired of the pills. One day, after a year and a half of marriage, you woke up and broke the news to Steve.

"Babe?"

"Mmhm," he murmured while sipping coffee from his mug.

Your sexy police officer husband was standing there with his hip against the counter and the paper in his hand.

" I stopped taking the pills, remember? You said whenever I feel ready, I just had to tell you? Well, I'm ready."

He took his eyes away from whatever he was reading and slowly moved to meet yours as he carefully studied you. In silence, he left his mug and newspaper on the counter and took his radio from the center table of your kitchen. He pressed a button without breaking eye contact.

"Central, this is Sergeant Harrington, do you copy? Over."

"Hey, Sarge Stevie, this is Jane Hopper helping out today in Central. Is everything okay? Over."

Steve smiled, and you copied his gesture. Jane started working at the central station during her summers when she graduated high school a couple of years ago. A way for Hopper to teach her the sense of responsibility and set healthy boundaries between her and Mike. It was a pretty good idea, to be honest.

"Hey El, do me a favor, could ya'? Tell your dad I'll be out of duties this morning for personal reasons. Imma explain to him later, over."

"Is everything okay? Over."

Steve combed his hair back and smiled.

"Yeah, honey, just a little thing here I need to take care of. Just tell your dad that, copy."

"Okay, just remember, friends don't lie. I'll tell my father, but he won't be happy, Mom's got him on a new diet, and it's driving him nuts, copy."

Steve laughed.

"I can imagine that. Thanks for the favor. See you soon, copy."

"10-4, have a great morning. Tell your pretty girl I love her. Out."

Then the line was dead, and as soon as the conversation ended, Steve quickly turned off the radio and took a couple of steps to get closer to you. You embraced his neck, standing on your tiptoes while smiling playfully.

"So, I'm guessing I'm the little thing you need to take care of?"

He caressed your back until his hands were on your butt and smiled back.

"Of course, mama, we need to fix this not-being-pregnant-yet situation," he finally said, taking you in his arms while you let out a giggle, and he started walking upstairs.

Nine months later, on March 12th, 1992, your first girl, Emma Chrissy Harrington, came into the world to be the protagonist of her father's worries and cares. She was now sitting in the back of the trailer with her headphones on, reading your old books while moving his feet covered in the combat boots her godfather gave her on her birthday. After one year of having her, you and Steve welcomed your first son James, who was born with his father's beautiful eyes and your hair. Steve often says he's gonna be a charmer, but you think he already is. You and Steve struggled a little to adjust to having two totally different babies in the house, and Steve got promoted to Captain, which was a big responsibility, so you decided to hold off on baby-making for a while. You enjoyed being a mother of two for that time; they were so different, with Emma being chaotic and creative, learning to play the drums before even being potty-trained, courtesy of his uncle Eddie, and James being the calmest and most advanced baby, talking, teething, and walking at a very early stage. He's now into photography and loves his uncle Johnny. When Emma was 4 and James 3, you and Steve welcomed Elizabeth. She was born prematurely and was a very delicate baby until doctors told you she was born with diabetes, so she has to follow a strict treatment. Other than that, she is a smart and strong 7-year-old girl who likes dresses and her piano lessons. By that time, you were a family of 5, and frankly, everything felt easier than with the first two babies. That made you both think that where's five, why can't be six, right? Just that in your next pregnancy, you discovered you were expecting your twins; Alice and Jo-Anne. They're just 5, so they are into bugs, drawing, and dogs.

They were very wild years, with Steve being promoted from Chief Assistant to Chief, with Hopper handing Steve the torch as he always wanted, and you with a little tour on the East Coast to promote your new novel and signing meetings. You couldn't take the vacation of your dreams until this year, once Steve got used to his new job and you just finished your last book so you could be focused more on the family time, he finally bought the camper you both always dreamed about and traveled through the country during the summer.

Uncle Eddie was waiting for you in his big-ass mansion that he was preparing to receive the whole crowd.

"Is he moving?" Steve asked while he moved his hand and placed it over your bump.

You smiled.

"Yep, he will be just like his dad; unstoppable."

He then smiled back.

"Babe?"

"Uh?" you hummed starting to open a new book your editor recommended to you.

"Just… you look amazing."

"I'm bigger, Harrington. Bigger and swollen," you reminded him.

He moved his hand, caressing your bump.

"You get prettier with every pregnancy."

You rolled your eyes.

"And you get more delusional," you joked, looking for the right page to start your reading while your other hand took his.

You kept in silence while you could hear the kids playing in the back of the camper.

"Babe?" Steve repeated and let out a relieved laugh.

"Huh?" you replied with the same sound.

"We made it, babe," he said with pride coming through his voice. "The whole plan. You and me, The six nuggets. The camper. We are freaking parents of happy and cool kids. We won."

Yep, you did.

#steve stranger things #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington stranger things #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington

[newpathwrites]

A New Creed Epilogue - Sneak Peek

I’ve been very productive this vacation, but I doubt I’ll get this final installment (more than a year overdue) finished before I go back to work. So enjoy this sneak peek of the final chapter!

Series Masterlist

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Din awoke to something warm and fuzzy pressed against his forehead, a pair of very familiar claws tapping his cheeks.

“Grogu,” he addressed his ward tiredly.  “I know you’re excited, but can I sleep just a few more minutes?”

The tapping only continued, and Din opened his eyes to look into the larger ones of his son.  “Grogu… use your words, ad’ika.  What do you want?”

The boy huffed in response, raising his little hands in the air as the sheets and blankets went flying off the bed.  “Up now, you will.”

“Hey,” Din admonished him, sitting up and pulling the sheets back up to cover his sleeping riduur.  “No need to wake your mother.”

He took a moment to stretch out his joints.  Age and several long decades of abusing his body were catching up to him.  He was ‘retired’, in a manner of speaking, these days, and that had certainly helped with the chronic tension in his back.  But some mornings, like today, he’d wake up with Grogu dozing on his chest, much of his pain miraculously resolved.

“Thank you, ad’ika,” he told him gratefully.  “But I really wish you’d reserve your powers for more important things.”

Grogu hopped off the bed defiantly and looked up at his father.  He had other priorities at the moment and no interest in discussing his (in his opinion) very reasonable use of the force.

“Come today?  Jai will?”

Din couldn’t help but smile.  “Yeah.  Jai should be here in…” he looked over at the chronometer.  “... just a few hours now.  Why don’t you go next door and see if Winta needs any help while we wait?  It’s getting harder for her now, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” he responded with a toothy and knowing grin.  “Help her, I will.  Get up, you will.”

Grogu hopped off, and Din laid his head back down on the pillow.  Perhaps he’d bought himself a few more minutes of sleep.  His son’s excitement was contagious, though.  Stars, he was looking forward to having Jai back home.  He’d really missed the kid.  Though, he supposed, they really weren’t a kid anymore, were they?  And anyway, they’d been an old soul practically since birth.

He knew he’d missed his chance at a few more minutes of relaxation when he heard the front door of the cabin open and close and Winta’s voice floating in from the kitchen.

She hesitated a moment at the bedroom door, whispering, “Is everyone decent?” before waltzing in with Grogu on her hip and a protective hand over her swollen belly.

Din got up quickly, placing a finger over his lips, and guided her out and back into the kitchen as he pulled a shirt over his head.  “Your mother’s sleeping in for once.  She was up all night getting ready… as if Jai will care about the silverware being polished…”

“Well, I couldn’t sleep… too excited,” Winta replied quietly as she started a kettle on the stove for the morning caf.  “I figured Grogu would be awake, so I decided to come over instead of waking up Tov with all of my tossing and turning.  Baby’s kicking up a storm, too.”

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End of sneak peek! More to come, hopefully sooner rather than later. ~J

#din djarin x omera #mandomera #original mandalorian character #non-binary character #din is demi and bi #newpathwrites #a new creed #how to build a clan

[hewantshisbrideback]

Modern AU Jonrya + Divorced!RhaeLya Snippet

Test-running this the same way I did NHAT's first chapter! Keep in mind, this is not specifically RhaeLya or anti-RhaeLya. That said, Rhaegar, by virtue of being raised as more of a 'boy prince' than actual prince, has a characterization you may not agree with! But I don't care, it's my fic lol. Not a lot happens in this first snippet, it's more to establish the home-life Jon is coming from, the dynamic between Rhaegar and Lyanna, and because I find writing from this perspective funny. There is not a lot of Jonrya and only the set up for conflict. Enjoy! Please, tell me what you think.

It’s an age-old story. A real crowd favorite. Boy meets girl. Girl meets boy. Boy sings a sad song. Girl cries. Boy gives her roses. Girl looks pretty with flowers in her hair. A classic love story, one for the books.

Things may have progressed a little quickly after. But, still, nothing truly out of the ordinary. Girl got pregnant. Boy proposed. Well… Boy had to get a divorce first. But it was a quick divorce.

Sure, maybe after the shotgun wedding, Boy and Girl had to hide out in the desert for a while, disappeared from the public without telling anyone where they went, resulting in a media-fuelled frenzy, a nation-wide search party involving everyone from paparazzi to armed police to private investigators…

Maybe her family had publicly accused him of kidnapping before the dust had settled. Acquitted of all charges, both in the legal court and that of public opinion.

Still, when Rhaegar looks back at how he and Lyanna first met, first fell in love, it really did feel that simple, that… uncomplicated, at the time. The politics, their respective family drama, the music scene and the industry bullshit, the age gap that was only a little less scandalous at the time…

He hadn’t cared about that. Neither had magazines, or newspapers. If anything, they’d eaten it all up. It only made them more sympathetic. For the most part. According to all the important publications, anyway.

Lyanna Stark and Rhaegar Targaryen had been... the love story to end all love stories. Had been, as in, weren’t anymore, because, as anyone could tell you, they hadn’t been married for, say, like… a decade now? Somewhere between a decade, and thirteen years, four months, and twenty-one days.

And yet, it still smarts to think about it. Better not to, if he can help it.

Unfortunately, there’s nothing in the great, empty expanse of fucking woods he’s staring down to distract him. Why does Lyanna live out here again? Shouldn’t someone running a non-profit live somewhere with actual people around, in need of help?

Frankly, he never understood why they divorced in the first place. But I respected her wishes. Because I loved her.

Obviously. He wouldn’t be leaning against his car, waiting for his son to finally emerge from his aloof (second) ex-wife’s cabin in the woods if that wasn’t the case, all so he could spend a weekend enjoying the kid’s brooding company, pointedly not asking questions about how his mother was and what she was doing in her spare time when she wasn’t too busy saving the world and ignoring his calls.

Rhaegar taps his foot. Crosses his arms. Checks his hair in the passenger window. Uncrosses his arms. Checks his phone, again. Nothing. He texted Jon about his arrival three minutes ago.

Maybe, sometimes their conversation verged into discussion-of-Mom territory. But there was only so much for him and Jon to talk about. The kid was almost sixteen, permanently unimpressed with him, and he made no secret of the resentment he felt for him.

Rhaegar wanted to connect, he did, but he also had to acknowledge certain limitations to his position. The one thing they both shared was Lyanna. It made sense to fall back to common ground in lieu of any other options.

And he’s curious. Sue him. The woman is a bank vault when it comes to her personal life. Always was. Just ask the press. They'd tell you.

Rhaegar checks his phone. Four minutes. He thinks he can get away with ringing the doorbell. There’s literally ice on the ground. Even his openly embittered son doesn’t actually want him to freeze to death.

Well, he assumes. But the void of interest in Jon’s gaze as he opens the door and claps eyes on him might make him reconsider.

“Hey, champ.” Rhaegar forces out, and pretends like he isn’t internally grimacing at his own words. “Uh, I texted, but…”

Jon nods, already turning around, walking away and leaving the screen door to drift shut on his father. “I know.”

Rhaegar wedges a foot in before the heavy screen can shut him out completely, then shifts awkwardly in the doorway, propping it open. “You ready to head out?”

“Almost.”

He takes that as an invitation to step inside. Jon’s disappeared into a door beyond the stairs - the den, or the dining room? It’s been a while since Rhaegar got to really see the place. He’s never gotten an actual tour, technically, has maybe been in the kitchen twice, ever, let alone the rest of the place. Technically, it's a converted ranger station from back when the family held private ownership over the woods. For all he knows, it's an armory back there.

He glances around surreptitiously for a second, wondering if he has enough time to poke his head around - innocently, of course - only for Lyanna to skid into view before he can even move past the wet room. His pulse quickens, but before he can pull out a greeting as equally as cringeworthy as the first, she interrupts.

“Oh, good. You’re here. I’m heading out then.” She pushes an earring in with lethal precision and force, not even sparing a glance at the conveniently-placed hall mirror, calling back into the house, “Jon? I’m heading out! Did you hear me?”

Rhaegar almost has a heart attack when Jon pops his head in from the nearest room - he could’ve sworn the only way to the back was through the main hall, last time he was here - with a furrowed brow and a playful scowl on display. “Yeah, I’m right here. You don’t need to yell.”

Lyanna is doing her eyeliner, but she pauses to raise her own brows at him in warning. “Sometimes I think you could do with me yelling at you more, actually.”

He rolls his eyes. “Is that even possible?”

She smacks her hairbrush in his general direction in response, a fruitless gesture so familiar to Rhaegar it hurts. “Would you get out of here? With your… teenage… attitude? Ugh.” She fixes her lipstick then shoves her tools in her purse.

“Brutal, mom. Do you have my charger?”

“Our charger,” she insists. “It’s in the den. Go watch some dumb, scary movie, would you? Have a good time with your dad. And get out of my hair!”

Jon gives her a brisk salute as she hurries past.

“We will! Uh, have a good time,” Rhaegar assures her, but his eyes get caught on her cocktail dress, as she scoots past him, adjusts the skirt, and grabs her coat. “Where are you off to? Didn’t think you were even allowed to leave the woods.”

She gives him a slightly withering glance, then shrugs, smiles. “I have a thing.” By now Jon has joined them in the wet room, and she turns to give him a quick kiss on the cheek. “Lock up when you leave. I’ll see you two later.”

“Gross.” Jon waves from the door as she sidesteps the ice in her heels on her way to her truck. “Bye, mom. Be safe!”

“No worrying, kiddo! Have fun.”

“I know. But still.”

“Thanks, honey,” she clambers into the truck, blows a big, fat kiss from the window, intentionally over-the-top. “Mwah.”

Rhaegar follows her out, takes advantage of her patting around the front seat to plug her phone in. “Seriously, we never talk anymore. What’s the big occasion?”

She gives him a look he decides is indecipherable, then sighs. “Just meeting up with old friends of the family.” She finds the right chord to plug in her phone, then shoos him away from the window. “Okay. Really, this time - I’ll see you guys later.”

By the time she’s pulled out, and he’s shaken himself from his suspicious stupor, Jon is joining him out in the driveway. He shakes his head, then turns and gives him a fond, knowing look. “Where is she actually going?”

Jon, shrugging and hiking his backpack up his shoulder, returns the knowing look, if... decidedly less fond. “Some kind of double date.”

“What?” Rhaegar scoffs. “With who?”

“Uncle Ned and Aunt Catelyn.”

Interesting, but irrelevant. “No, who is she going with?”

“I don’t know. One of the Baratheons.” Jon is walking toward the car at this point.

“Shit!” Rhaegar jolts to follow, stops and curses as he almost slips on the ice, resumes his path with more caution. “Shit. Which one?”

“I don’t remember,” Jon says, popping open the trunk. He throws his luggage in the back.

Rhaegar rubs the back of his neck, exhaling a little in relief at just making it to the car without face-planting. “It can’t be Robert, is it? That’s insane.”

Jon pauses getting into the passenger seat to slip his backpack off his shoulder and spare his father a faintly exasperated look. “Dad…”

“Look, I - I know your uncle and him are friends, I’m sure he’s… fine, but… your mom hates him,” he rushes to clarify. Jon rolls his eyes and gets in the car, and Rhaegar scrambles to follow suit. “She always has.”

“I mean, it’s really none of your business.”

“Right, but… Right. I’m not saying she can’t. I’m just saying it would be stupid, and I hope your uncle hasn’t convinced her to give him another chance, when -”

“Are we going?” Jon interrupts, then sinks into his seat with a strange expression. “Arya and I have been waiting to see this for ages.”

“Uh…” Rhaegar blinks. Thinks. Starts to dig out his keys. “Yeah, we can go…” He starts the engine, but doesn’t take it out of park. “Just, let the engine warm up… How is Arya doing, lately, by the way? She wants to see this film?”

“Yeah,” Jon answers, slouching in his seat. “Has wanted to, for a while, now.”

“How’s she doing? You get to see her much, now she’s getting older?”

Jon turns to pretend to look at something out the window. Rhaegar knows he’s pretending. He was staring at the same goddamn woods waiting for a text for four minutes, so. “Not as much.”

Rhaegar takes this as an opportunity to change the address on his phone. “Is she busy tonight?”

“No.” No uncertainty. Not even a pause.

“You want to invite her along?”

“Seriously?” 

“Why not?” Rhaegar starts backing out of the driveway. “She’s allowed to watch scary movies, right?”

“Yeah, we watch them all the time.” Good. It was a fifty-fifty bet, considering what Catelyn and Ned are respectively like as parents.

“Why don’t you text her? We’re early anyway. We can start heading down that way, and if she says no, we’ll just… You know. Course-correct.”

“Okay. Yeah. I’ll text her.”

“Good. Great. We’ll just… head for your uncle Ned’s.”

And if they happened to run into Lyanna when they got there, well... that's a non-issue.

❦

Thanks so much for reading! Hope it piqued your interest, even though there wasn't a ton of Jonrya right away. It's partly written but not enough to share for feedback. I'm curious to get feedback on the Rhaegar and Lyanna dynamic - I know the characters have huge fans and huge antis and frankly I'm half curious and half worried as to how either party will be reacting to the situation, lol! Anyway, thanks again.

#jonrya #jon snow #lyanna stark #asoiaf #arya stark #needleheart #rhaegar targaryen #a song of ice and fire #pureasoiaf #asoiaf au #modern au #jonrya fic #hewantshiswriting #hewantshisaus #hewantshiscontemporaryaus #hewantshisposts #divorceverse #hewantshisdivorceverse #idk we'll test run it and see!