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earthtooz · 3 months

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in which: a moment of impulsivity has ratio knocking on your door at 3 am with a grand confession.

There is a great cloud of curiosity that surrounds Dr. Ratio.

His intelligence is far beyond the average person’s comprehension, mind working at insurmountable speeds to reach conclusions and answers that no others have come to before. Mediocrity and Ratio could never stand to be in the same room, intelligence and reputation as an academic preceding him.

When people find out that you have been in a long-term relationship with the scholar, you can almost see the question mark above their heads. How did you meet? When did you start dating? How did you start dating? How do you put up with him? (You always answer that with ‘I’m still trying to find out myself’. He always rolls his eyes when you say that, but it’s nothing a kiss to the cheek can’t solve.)

Only your closest friends know the story of how you started dating, but it’s always one you love recounting, much to the dismay of Veritas.

For the decades that he has lived for, there have been few moments he regrets, always critically scrutinising every move six steps before he makes them. No one has ever seen him messy, uncertain, or dishevelled- except you.

Towards the end of your university years, with an urgent final assignment due soon, you’re rudely awoken one night by frantic knocks on your dorm’s door. You notice the clock reads 3 am, and since the knocks only got louder by the second, you throw your covers off with a groan.

Who could be at your door at 3 am? Perhaps a drunk dormmate who forgot their keys? Or someone knocking thinking it was their room?

Looking through the peephole, you’re stunned to see a certain violet-haired friend on the other side, trouble etched deeply into his features. His hair was messy, falling haphazardly around his face, and his usual accessory of a laurel wreath was discarded, flamboyant outfit discarded for something more comfortable.

It’s clear that he’s troubled by something, but you have half a mind to leave him outside until he goes away (that’s what he’d do to you, or so you think).

Opening the door, you begin by scolding him. “You better have a good reason to show up at this godforsaken time or otherwise-”

“-I’m in love with you.”

Perhaps if it were a normal hour of the day, and if you hadn’t just been rudely awaken from your sleep, you would have processed his words faster. Instead, you blink at him once, twice, three times, fatigue weighing heavily on your features as you struggled to keep your eyes open.

“What?” You murmur, shaking your head as if that would clear up the mental blockage.

“I’m in love with you,” he repeats, firmer this time.

You grab his wrist and drag him inside your dorm, blinded by the harshness of the hallway lights illuminating the outline of his figure. Turning on the softer light on your desk, you take a seat on the edge of your bed, gazing down at your hands. Veritas, however, stays near your door, annoyingly muscular arms flexed over his chest.

“I have so many questions,” you grumble, rubbing your eyes. “Why are you awake? You’re always asleep by 11 to get your ass up at 6 to exercise, or whatever.”

“Are you avoiding the main point, or just stupid?” He grabs you by the shoulders and shakes. “I love you.”

“Excuse me! You were banging bullets on my dorm room, I’m disorientated right now, not stupid- what?”

It’s almost like his statement from earlier only pierces through your brain now with the way you freeze, eyes morphing into something akin to disbelief and shock. He sees all the changes in your expression in the dimness of the room, nervously biting his cheek with every subtle shift.

“Did… I hear that right?” You whisper after what feels like an eternity. “You love me?”

He nods. “For a few years now.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Am I not doing so in this very moment?”

Tonight has been nothing but agitating for him. First, he was kept awake by the pounding of his heart and the burning desire to see you, significantly delaying his sleep until Veritas decided to cast all caution into the wind, running to your dorm all the way on the other side of the University. Now, he is trying to pour his heart onto your hands, all because of a moment of impulsivity and bull-headed stubbornness, and a secret he cannot keep to himself any longer.

He may be stubborn (as are all geniuses), but Veritas is never impulsive. All truths will come to light eventually, no matter how hard he tries to hide them.

“While I accept that my feelings may not be reciprocated, can you at least say something rather than stare at me blankly?” There’s an unfamiliar look of concern in his eyes, contrasting the usual pride and arrogance he always wears.

What happened to the Veritas Ratio you know? Who is this man by your feet?

“No- that’s not. I… I love you too, I have for a while now, but everything about this is… just… unbelievable.”

“Why?”

“You’re aeons out of my league, Veritas. I never once considered you would return my feelings.”

He stifles back a laugh, dropping his large hands off your shoulders and clutching the mattress on either side of you. You won’t forget about the way the sheets crumple beneath his grip, or the way his head hangs, bangs tickling your legs.

Bravely, you raise a hand to his hair, running through it. Seemed like he could use the comfort.

“You make me too damn nervous,” he breathes, a hand coming to clutch at his chest.

“Never thought I’d live to see the day you admit you get nervous.”

“Why’s that?”

“The only thing bigger than your brain is your ego.”

His confession, and everything about that night, was unorthodox, never predicting that you’d end the day curled up next to Veritas, or the long relationship that would follow.

#guys omfg act shocked that im writing more dr ratio #earthtooz: honkai star rail #dr ratio x reader #veritas ratio x reader #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #ratio x reader #dr ratio fluff

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jaylaxies · 24 days

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NOW OR NEVER

PAIRING: spider-man!sunghoon x fem!reader

GENRE/CW: smut, unprotected sex, choking, fingering, slight bondage, usage of nicknames, breeding.

SYNOPSIS: going around the city with your massive poster which said, ‘Choke me, Spider-Man!’ was something you did for fun, not knowing that your dream might actually come true.

WC: 1.4k words

WARNING: 18+ content, minors dni

A/N: hihi, loves! this one was requested by my anonnie and i’ve also posted this as a mark fic before! i hope you guys will like it :3 all likes, comments, reblogs and feedbacks are highly appreciated! iloveyou all <33

“Shh, baby. Don’t want your parents to hear now, do we?”

You truly couldn’t believe that it was happening—that Spider-Man was in your room with his slender fingers wrapped ever so perfect around your throat.

You’ve always wanted this from the day you first saw him, on the day he saved a lift full of people from falling down and crashing to the ground. You were one of those who unfortunately got stuck inside the lift too, which was the traumatic onset of your tiny crush on him.

No one knew who was behind that mask, yet his suit clad figure was a sight to see, his build lean and slightly muscular, not to mention he smelled brilliant (a little something you gathered when he saved you).

To add to it, his ever so attractive voice always grasped everyone’s attention, you thought he was funny too, which is exactly why you ended up making a poster full of glitter saying:

Choke me, Spider-Man!

It was a silly joke, albeit you’d definitely be lying if you say you didn’t get wet dreams about the superhero, because you did. Detailed ones at that.

Maybe carrying the poster with you at all times was a stretch but you did it anyway, granted that your city was full of crimes and spotting Spider-Man was an easy task, which is why you proudly held up the poster in the crowd whenever you saw him, after he fought with the villain that is.

The people around you laughed, but it wasn’t mocking, it was more of an amused laugh, and you could have sworn you noticed spidey look your way, before swinging away, much to your dismay.

This went on a few times. You were practically waving the poster frantically when it was the fourth time, yet he didn’t pay you attention of any sort, leaving you dejected as you dragged yourself back home from Uni, chuckling at your state.

Crush on a superhero?

Pathetic.

He’s loved by countless people all over the world, what makes you think he’d have time to give you even a sliver of his attention when he’s so busy saving the world?

Clicking your tongue, you threw the crumbled poster in the trash can of your bedroom, dimming the lights as you sat down on your bed, ready to change into your nightwear before opting to sleep to take your mind off things.

Just then, a loud sound of knocking on your window caught your attention, which was funny considering you lived up on a pretty high floor in your apartment building. You thought that it must be a bird, still, you decided to open the curtains to check it out.

Shock would be an understatement to explain what you were feeling the second your eyes laid on the person right outside your window.

The reason for your sour mood, or rather, the reason you spent hours trying to ease the pent up frustration in you each night, moaning out with need, was hanging by your window.

“Oh god,” you breathed out, brain short circuiting for a few seconds before you shook your head, opening the windows for him to come in.

Who knew Spider-Man would actually care enough to notice you?

Then you realized just how awkward the situation was, and you didn’t have much to say anymore now that he was standing right in front of you, looking around as if he was inspecting your room.

“Spider man,” you breathed out, and he chuckled.

His attention was on you now, walking closer to you, “so, you’re the one who wanted to be choked by me,” he said smoothly, and you couldn’t help but shamelessly gawk at his figure, mouth watering at the sight.

“Uhm—I mean, holy fuck you’re actually here,” you tried to voice out your thoughts, but they were a mess, which only caused him to chuckle at your shocked state.

“Didn’t you want me here, baby?” He asked and you felt your knees buckling at the deep tone of his voice.

You took another step back, only to lose balance and trip. But good for you, your spidey was quick to shoot his web on your silky night blouse, pulling you close and right into his arms.

He smelled so good.

“Careful. We don’t want you hurting your pretty face,” he whispered, tracing his glove clad finger along your jaw, gripping your chin when he noticed how your body had gone still, “deep breaths, babe.”

“Are you gonna fuck me?” You asked, voice coming out in a low whine, eyes twinkling with hope.

He chuckled, pulling his mask up which had you bubbling with anticipation, you really wanted to see what he looked like. However, he stopped a little too soon for your liking, only exposing his lips, leaning in to mumble against your own.

“I’m gonna fuck the life out of you,” he whispers, a gasp leaving your lips as you pulled him closer into a rushed kiss.

He was quick to take over, kissing you harder as he pushed you down on your bed, you could feel his fang like canines biting down on your bottom lip, “undress, quick,” he ordered, and you fumbled while getting everything off your body.

Your cheeks were warm, your eyes on his figure, which was now devoid of his costume, faint abs and strong muscles on display for you, but your mouth practically salivated at the sight of his cock, thick and hard.

Just when you sat up to touch him, he grabbed your wrist, pushing them up your head and shooting webs to tie them, making sure they didn’t move.

You never knew you’d be into web-play but here you are, getting wet by being constrained by webs.

“Please,” you begged in hopes that he’d touch you, or do something, anything.

“So needy, aren’t you?” He clicks his tongue, his fingers caressing your cunt, collecting your wetness, “so wet already,” he smirked, “wanna be fucked all night, huh?” He asked, continuing working his fingers between your legs, arousal leaking from your cunt.

His other hand was wrapped up around your neck, fingers tightening enough for you to gasp, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you felt lightheaded with the whole situation, but you couldn’t have asked for anything better.

He was so good with his fingers, thumb pads circling your clit while two digits plunged in and out of you, eliciting moans out of you.

“Shh,” he whispered, his hold around your neck tightening which caused you to open your mouth, giving him the perfect opportunity to lean in and spit in your mouth, watching the glob travel down your tongue till you gulped it down, earning a praise out of him, “good girl.”

He pulled back right when your body started shaking with the orgasm building up in your lower abdomen, his hold on your neck loose to let you breathe some more before he took it to the next level.

He ran his lips down your neck, sucking harshly as he lined his cock to your eager folds, your expression blissful and your entrance so wet, it made it easy for him to bottom out, “so fucking pretty,” he groaned out.

His voice strained as he started fucking you into your mattress, his power was evident with how precise and hard his thrusts were. It was a lifetime opportunity for you, and you wished to savour every second of it as you wrapped your legs around his slender waist, pulling him even closer and deeper in your pussy.

He hit your spot over and over again, “cream my cock like a good girl, baby,” he rasped out, his own orgasm approaching.

You couldn’t hold back anymore, with his fingers still gripping your neck, the lack of air was evident but it somehow made you feel as if you were floating with unadulterated bliss around you as you finally reached your state of euphoria, coming undone on his cock, exactly when he filled you up with his cum, mixing it with yours as he emptied himself in you.

You whined when he pulled back, getting dressed after draining you, “you’re leaving?” You asked, frowning.

“Gotta save the world now, pretty,” he whispered, removing his webs from your wrists before pecking your lips and rushing out of the window, leaving you dazed.

Maybe making the poster wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

THANK YOU FOR READING!

@jaeminvore @macaroonff @ajayke-reads @lunalovesstories @jayzdaze @deobitifull @celeste-hoon @mari-oclock @kpoprhia @ikeuizm @woniebae @lalalalawon @blessedcursd @skzenhalove @heesuncore @seuomo @kyurizeu @haechan-nahceah @tobiosbbyghorl @jezzebear @jaehoonii @itsgivingitalian @bunhoons @luvswonyoung @ma-riiii @addictedtohobi @heeliopheelia @haanigurl

permanent taglist open! comment or send an ask to be added!

#enhypen hard hours #enhypen smut #sunghoon smut #kpop smut #enha smut #enhypen imagines

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greatooglymooglyyy · 2 months

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Okay hcs for how Matt and Chris act with their S.O. in public pretty please???

In Public (M&C Sturniolo)

a/n: two in one day? iktr. send me more hcs. im obsessed. kept it cuteeeee, one little suggestive comment

Matthew:

-okay so we all know matt is not the pda type and i don't think that will ever change. but i think he'd be the type to always need an eye on you. big on checking in when you're in a group setting and making sure you're good.

-i feel like if you did that thing where you stop walking and see if your boyfriend notices or leaves you, he's turning around after like 3 steps and looking at you like you're crazy.

-in big crowds of people though, he's definitely reaching for you. holding your hand or making you walk in front of him and putting a hand on your back.

-at a group dinner, he will keep a hand on yours across the table or an arm over your chair or lightly on your shoulder.

-if you're shopping together, he's waiting outside the dressing room on the bench for you to give him a fashion show. loves when you run over and asks for his opinion and thinks it's the cutest thing ever.

-i can just imagine the crazy death stare he would give you when you try to swipe your card when he's there. you are embarrassing him, back the hell up.

-always wants to be close to you even if he's not touching you. the type to grab your chair and slide it closer to him.

-at family gatherings he sticks even closer, knowing you're probably nervous. holds your hand as he introduces you to people and pulls you away for breathers if you need it.

-but if you are leaving from a group hangout or something, he'd definitely walk to your car and kiss you. and turn bright red if his brothers see you and start gagging.

Christopher:

-now chris... doesn't give a single fuck... to an extent. like i know he said he'd make out with his girlfriend in a group but i don't think he'd want to make people uncomfortable so he wouldn't do too much.

-but he's the type to need hands on you constantly. if you guys are walking somewhere, he's grabbing your hand or hooking an arm around your neck. on a roadtrip? he's absolutely reaching back for your hand. sitting around a fire or a pool? he's pulling you into his lap for sure.

- at a family gathering, he's yanking you from person to person to show you off and introduce you. but if you are fidgeting or nervous, he'd notice and make some excuse to give you a break.

-always introduces you as his girl with a huge goofy smile.

-won't make out with you in public but definitely not shy about kissing you lightly. especially if it's just a few friends around. doesn't care at all about their teasing either and will just flip them off.

-at dinner, he already knows what time it is. just slides his plate over to pay the girlfriend tax before you can even ask for some.

-he's coming inside the dressing room with you and giving opinions in real time. and if you look a little too good in something he's definitely pulling you to him for a kiss.... or more.

-unfortunately, my boy is an airhead. so if you stop walking with him, he's definitely in Timbuktu by the time he notices. but would definitely sprint back, feeling horrible.

-loves watching you interact with his friends and family. it makes his heart so happy. so he'll just watch with a stupid grin on his face

"what are you staring at?"

"i just love you is all."

taglist:

@sturniolho @sttzee @tillies33ssss @miloisdone1 @sstvrnioloo @junnniiieee07 @sturnioloslurps @mrsmiagreer

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boydepartment · 6 months

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three strikes - nishimura riki x fem! reader

a/n: HIIIIII this was a request from my 🧈 anon :3 i hope you love it my dear

warnings- jealousy! nothing insane tho, mostly fluff 😋 i added a small inside joke that riki would call ricky from zb1 “discount ricky” all jokes tho (pls don’t kill me)

wc- honestly over 750

MASTERLIST

“here.” you looked over to riki setting your drink down on the table, you looked up at him and smiled as he sat down across from you at the cafe table.

“did you-“

“ask for extra peppermint? yes. even though it’s gross..” riki mumbled, you giggled and sipped your hot coco. it was freezing cold at least to you and so the coco helped a lot.

“when is your project partner arriving?” riki mumbled, sipping his coffee.

you shrugged, “any minute.” setting your coco down riki watched you, he wasn’t necessarily happy over this whole project partner thing. riki knew your project partner, and safe to say he was just irritated by his presence. he didn’t know why, but he was just irked.

so when the OTHER ricky walked in, he just waved and watched as the other boy sat next to you.

“hey y/n!” he smiled, you grinned back at him.

“hey! it’s cold outside are you sure you’re bundled up enough?” you asked, grabbing your books. riki just decided to go on his phone to pass time.

“yeah! it’s crazy how quickly the weather changed huh? are you warm enough?”

you and ricky made small talk which didn’t bother your best friend. that was until one sentence.

“your hands are freezing y/n!”

riki’s eyes shot up to see the discount ricky’s hands on yours. if stares could kill a man, discount ricky would be six feet under.

“oh! yeah that’s why riki, well, my riki got me hot coco.” you let go of his hand and turned to your hot beverage.

nishimura riki would be lying if he said some pride didn’t bubble up inside him, which didn’t go unnoticed by the boy sitting next to you.

riki didn’t take notice and he went back on his phone, he just wanted your project to be over so he could walk back to the car with you and just be away from people. by people he meant discount ricky. this was strike one for his patience.

“i think we should work more on the details of the piece of art itself. like things that normal people look past in monet’s art. there’s a story everywhere.” you suggested, this art project was pretty big for your grade. and you were just relieved that your project partner agreed to do monet.

“that’s such a good idea y/n.” ricky smiled.

oh please riki thought to himself, at that point discount ricky should just get on his hands and knees and beg for your attention. that’d be way less embarrassing than kissing your ass at every little- wait what the hell

to riki’s horror, discount ricky, was readjusting your beanie so your hair didn’t get in your face. this pissed him off, strike two of his patience gone. riki was the one who spent HOURS trying to crochet you that beanie last year and now he’s going to have to make you another one because discount ricky’s grimy hands touched it! riki felt his eye twitch, he ended up making eye contact with the boy next to you. a smirk ghosting his features.

riki wanted to kick his shin under the table or maybe throw his hot coffee-

“i think we should also choose one of monet’s less known works aswe- oh ouch…” you mumbled rubbing your hands, whenever you wrote or sketched too long your hands would hurt. riki always took notice of this so he looked up proper hand massages- safe to say he could be certified- WHAT THE SHIT?

discount ricky grabbed your hands and started massaging them.

strike three

“can you get your hands off her?!” riki finally snapped, “god at this point it’s revolting! i’m right in front of both of you!”

your eyes widened as you watched you best friend actually lose his temper, yeah you’d seen him bicker but this was different.

“what are you two dating?” ricky asked, if you were in a tv show you’d see the angry lightening bolt hit both of them. this was not good, you quickly packed your bags and grabbed your best friend. apologizing to your project partner.

“what’s his fucking problem?!” riki stomped through the fresh snow to your car.

“what’s his problem?! what’s your problem? what the hell was that?! are you okay?!” you had a million questions. and they were flying out.

“i- what- how is this my fault!? he had his grimy discount ricky hands all over you! only i’m allowed to do that as your best friend!”

it was really hard to take him seriously as you finally got to the car laughing. you leaned against the hood trying to catch your breath.

“y/n this isn’t funny!” he stood right next to you.

you finally caught your breath, “i’m sorry where did the nickname discount ricky come from?”

“well obviously i’m the better one way more deserving of, um hello, touching your hair, massaging your hands because im youtube certified, AND THE COLD HANDS THING?! he was flirting with you shamelessly in front of me!” riki swung his arms around like a crazy person trying to explain that the end was near.

your hat fell slightly as you laughed again which riki fixed gently before speaking again, “then he’d smirk at me like he knew he was getting on my nerves! like that discount version of ME KNEW HE WAS MAKING ME ANGRY!”

“should i take my hat off and give you sanitizer? since you touched my discount ricky infected beanie?” you asked, unlocking the car and throwing your backpack in the back. you turned around and bumped into riki.

“actually yeah take off that hat. i will sanitize it and crochet you a new one.” riki grabbed the hat off your head and gave you his own beanie.

“should i sanitize my hands too?” you asked giggling, going to open your door but slipping on black ice.

riki immediately caught you, “um guess who couldn’t catch you- discount ricky. i’m clearly better for you so.”

you started laughing again, hitting his chest playfully, “you’re acting like a jealous boyfriend.”

“is that a bad thing?” riki asked quickly, suddenly unsure of himself.

you shook your head no, “it’s cute.”

riki smiled down at you; it was obvious he was at least a little smug.

“you know what he didn’t contaminate?” you asked, still giggling, your eyes flickered from riki’s eyes to his lips. immediately he got the hint and took his chance.

discount ricky is out and nishimura riki hit a home run

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kingthunder · 21 days

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I saw a few of those "bg3 characters driving a car" headcanons and decided to do one myself for fun.

Lae'zel: She learned how to drive on the opposite side of the road from everyone else and her instincts are all wrong for her current location, but back home she's an excellent driver with a spotless driving record. She actually follows the service schedule in the car manual. She gets incensed at people who don't maintain their vehicle properly or who disobey road rules. Her car is immaculately clean. She would love to speed a motorcycle down one of those desert highways with no speed limit, but she's never gotten the opportunity and knows it's too reckless besides. But she wants to.

Karlach: She's had a motorcycle for ages and is a skilled if aggressive driver. However, she only recently learned how to drive a car. She is very enthusiastic about it and always volunteers to drive even though she's not very good yet. She's one of those people that do driving "pranks" like swerving back and forth to make people shriek/laugh, or doing "3, 2, 1 BLASTOFF" and gunning it. Could easily be provoked into an impromptu street race. Drives way too far on empty or with the check engine light on.

Shadowheart: Drives stick so that no one else can drive her car. It's a beat up old station wagon with a busted tail light and looks like shit on the outside, but inside she turned it into a goth mobile with like black velvet seat covers and stuff. She named the car but she won't tell you what. She has an air freshener hanging from the rear view mirror that smells like night orchids. She's a perfectly good boring driver with nothing to note about it UNTIL one day a cop tries to pull her over for her busted tail light and she hits the gas and pulls out all these street racing moves that you had no idea she was capable of and shakes the cop. She'll let you pick the music but if she doesn't like it her silent disapproval is so withering that you voluntarily change it to something she does like.

Astarion: Never got a driver's license and isn't about to get one now. Passenger princess who likes to control the radio but his taste in music sucks. He makes funny mean comments about other drivers and pedestrians. He'll complain if you ask him to fill the gas tank but he'll do it; you're paying for it, though. Actually pretty fun to go on a road trip with because he doesn't care about stuff like "making good time" and he's up for stopping anywhere that looks like it might be entertaining.

Gale: Never got a driver's license because he was always too busy with his studies to care and his mom drove him around and/or did all his errands for him anyway. He's real good at maps though and likes to be helpful by being the navigator. He's the smartest man in the world but he's completely stymied by a gas pump; you're better off pumping the gas yourself and sending him into the gas station for snacks. He always manages to conjure a full meal out of convenience food, somehow, and he's really good at feeding you while you drive.

Wyll: He saved up and bought his own fixer-upper car after getting kicked out of the house as a teenager. Good driver in general. People always think he would make a good designated driver, but actually he likes drinking socially and will politely decline requests to be the DD unless there's no one else available. Sometimes when he's having a bad day he blasts music really loud and finds a deserted area to just fuckin tear ass down as fast as he can go (he'll only do this alone and doesn't tell anyone about it). Never lets you pay for gas even if you offer. Will pick up hitchhikers.

Halsin: Has been driving the same car since 1973. Drives that specific car really well. If you gave him a modern car he would have no idea what anything on the dashboard does. Honestly, he prefers to walk or bike anyway.

Jaheira: Has a fuck-off huge SUV full of empty cans and wrappers from her kids. Absolute maniac of a driver who tailgates and speeds with no regard for road signs or lane markings. She is going to GET where she is GOING and gods help you if you get in the way.

Minsc: Failed the driving test three times and just gets rides from Jaheira. This does not bother him in the slightest. He tells you that Boo can drive vehicles you've never even heard of.

Minthara: Has run someone over on purpose.

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roseboysstuff · 2 months

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(Same person who requested the pent up leon & ftm reader with a baby :3)

i NEED more zuko content , uhh so how about zuko and (ftm) male reader have two kids already (twins) and they're really young, even them both already having kids zuko atleast wanted one more, and as soon as the twins started asking for a baby sibling he went wild that night

"You heard them? One more can't hurt, and they'd be so so happy.."

You can choose the kinks ! Have a good day ♡

I'm always happy to provide Zuko content hehe, and breeding is one of my faves AH FUCK i POSTED IT TOO SOON

Zuko loved seeing you with your kids. The two girls that you had given him, cute little identical twins. The cold darkness of the palace, now filled with the cute shrieks and giggles of his daughters. Meetings with his advisors interrupted by the pitter patter of tiny feet coming into the throne room, so he just continues the meeting with both of them snuggled onto his lap. And the way you took care of them, made him fall even more in love with you. The praise and care, the way you carried them on your hips. He was so proud of you, and of his girls. They were both firebenders, not that he cared. He'd love them either way. But tonight, as the four of you lay there, the girls making flower crowns in the meadow outside the capital volcano, the topic of siblings came up. "Papa? Can we have another sibling?" One of your girls, asked, in the her innocent voice. Which caused the other one to chime in. "Yeah! I want a brother too!" Both you and Zuko exchanged a look, your faces clearly flustered. You changed the subject for now, and you after a few hours, you carried them back to the palace, and tucked them into bed. As soon as you left their room, you felt a hand on your hip. Squeezing. Grabbing. And then you were pushed up against a wall, with Zuko's lips pressing hot, open mouthed kisses against the sensitive skin on your neck. "What do you say, my firefly? Shall we give them another sibling?" His voice is deeper, laced with lust. You remember how he got you pregnant the first time, how he went almost feral at the idea of seeing you all swollen with his kid. You're pretty sure that his incessant pounding of your hole, and the amount of cum that he poured into your hole, was the reason why you had twins. And you were probably gonna get the same treatment tonight. He didn't even wait until you got into your shared chambers, he just pushed you against the wall of the hallway. Despite your soft protests that somebody might see you, he pulled your clothes off. "No one's gonna see us, and even if they do, I'm the FireLord. What can they do? I'm the leader, and I need to fuck another heir into my prince consort. You'll let me, won't you, baby boy?" Well you did let him. His cock was in you before long, and you stopped caring about whether or not it felt good. You just moan and whimpered and cried out his name. "Such a tight hot pussy, all for me. Gonna get your pregnant again, my love. Shall we try for triplets this time?" You didn't argue. His cock felt too good, the veiny surface stimulating the sensitive spots inside you. And you squeezed him so good, your pussy needing to be filled with his hot cum, to be pumped full of his heirs again. You cried out his name, needing him to fuck you harder. Which he happily obliged. Slamming into your pussy, the sound of skin slapping echoing in the hallway, as he didn't let up. He was determined to get you pregnant again, to fill your womb up with so much cum that you had no choice but to carry his babies again. He loved your first pregnancy. Watching your belly grow, from the small little bump, barely noticeable. To the swollen belly in the last trimester. He loved it all. And he was desperate to see it again, which was obvious in the thrusts. He was thrusting like a man starved, revelling in the mewls and whimpers leaving your lips. His cum poured into you, spurting seed into your womb. But he wasn't done. Keeping his cock in you, he carried you the rest of the way to your chambers, leaving the small amount of cum that had leaked out of you for the servants to clean up. He lowered you down onto your shared bed, and kissed your neck, rolling his hips inside you again. It's clear you weren't going to leave his arms until you were stuffed with enough cum, that he was satisfied that you were definitely knocked up again.

#ftm reader #male reader #x reader #zuko smut #zuko x male reader #zuko x reader #zuko x ftm reader

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unluckilyimnot · 23 days

Note

it’s summer were I live so everyone’s wearing two pieces and was thinking maybe what’s Rin, Isagi, Nagi and whoever else’s you want, seeing there girlfriend/ s/o in a bikini <3

no pressure ofc! And thx if you do it! Luv your stuff <33

seeing their s/o in bikini - i.rin, i.yoichi, n.seishiro, i.sae, k.tabito

m.list I rules

note: hiii thank you sm for your request ! i hope i did it well hihi

i'm rather busy lately and for the coming week as well so i'll take some time to do the requests you guys sent but i'll do it !

Itoshi Rin

he’s normal about it (no)

he likes the beach a lot as well, so it’s only normal for him to plane date there - even more during summer

like you could have a small picnic before enjoying the water

he only saw you in one piece until now so the second you take off your shirt and he saw more skin he panic

but only inside

outside he’s there, taking a look, he nods and tells you something like “i’ve never seen this one, it’s new ?” and you proceed to explain him where you get it and who was with you

the tip of his ears is red but he blames it on the heat and the sun - you’ll never catch him confessing he's flustered

he’s always been playful but suddenly holding a lot more

he likes it a lot, he can’t help it but looking at you head to toes a few times when you're not looking

but he's the jealous type so he’s making sure to cover you with a timid smile if he see anyone looking a little too much in your way

Hates it honestly when it happens but you're head order heel for him and it shows so it's fine

Isagi Yoichi

he’s a pool guy and here to play

aquatic park are his fav and ofc he has to take you with him

He's a blushing mess when he sees you after changing up

He doesn't know where to look he's scared to offense you

He wants to be respectful, you're just too pretty for him to not look for time to time

He stutters a lot when he talks to you at first, which makes you chuckles a lot

But he quickly get over it and just tell you a thousand times how pretty you are

He's just sweet and tell you how the color suit you or things like that

Nagi Seishiro

reo must have a pool lol

He just stay sitting by and watch you two play and swim

Mostly you bc it doesn't happens a lot

He's quiet I think, just checking you out and taking note that you have scars or stretch marks here and there

He wants to poke you so if you decide to take a break next to him, he'll poke your side and shoulder

He compliments you as if it's nothing, kinda implying how much he watched like “the shape is nice” referring to your chest

You can pull him into the water after that, he knows it will happen

But he's ready to start a fight then but honestly he'll blush the second your chest is comes near him

He likes it just so he can hug you to be honest

He almost drown you by accident with his weight

He's relatively simple minded (I love him)

Itoshi Sae

it happens quickly in your relationship honestly he loves the sea too much

He's, in fact, normal about it

But he has to admit that he likes it and it suits you well hihi

He's just a girl

He's probably more annoying about wearing your sunscreen correctly

He gladly helps to rub it on your back

He enjoys the view - probably blush a little when you're not looking as well

He side eyes people around, even kids (in a playful way obviously)

He lies the two pieces but he's only looking at your butt keys be honest

Karasu Tabito

He get the privilege to help you choose one for a future afternoon with your friends

Act fool ™

He even get to select some that he liked before you try it on

He tries to not stare too much and just be helpful

The tip of his ears are probably red on the first few one that you tried

If he'll be honest, he would say he likes them all

But he also know how you feel about your body and tries to be more critical so you won't feel insecure

In the end he honestly wants to go with you at the pool or on the beach one day just to enjoy it as well

Respectful king in the end

I hope you liked it !

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milfsloverblog · 4 months

Text

Secret Benefits (part 4)

Previous part here

Sugar mommy!Larissa Weems x fem!reader

A/N: Guess who’s back, back again. I know, I know. It’s been a while. Life has been a crazy ride in the last couple of months and I just didn’t have the heart to be writing anything. But I thought it’d be nice to gift you this chapter as a new year present. Have fun! ps: this contains ANGST. You’ve been warned. Enjoy <3

You could tell that The Paragon was another one of those ridiculously expensive restaurants as soon as you set foot inside. High ceilings, heavy velvet curtains hanging by the windows, paintings on the walls.

You took a deep breath and slid your hand into Larissa’s, intertwining your fingers with hers. It felt reassuring, feeling her skin against yours and knowing that she was there with you. Or that you were there with her.

A waiter quickly walked your way, flashing the two of you a bright smile before leading you to a table. You felt a couple of stares as you walked past the other seated people and realised what they were probably thinking about. A young woman with an older one, holding hands. You hadn’t even asked Larissa if this was okay - holding her hand in public. Holding hands like a couple would. That thought made you pull your hand away from Larissa’s as if you’d been burnt, much to Larissa’s dismay.

You sat down at the table and Larissa followed suit, sitting down in front of you. The older woman smiled when you didn’t bother opening the menu that had been handed to you by the waiter, knowing full well she’d be picking whatever you’d be eating.

Good girl, she thought as her blue eyes bore into yours before dropping to the menu in her hands.

Seared scallops with a saffron sauce as a main and a white chocolate and raspberry semifredo for dessert, that’s what she had picked for you that night.

Dinner went like it did last time, Larissa was always more willing to listen to you talking about your life rather than share about hers.

The tall woman chuckled softly when you pushed some semifredo in your mouth, making you look at her.

“What?”

“You have some-“ Larissa didn’t finish her sentence, choosing instead to reach out and wipe the bit of cream from the corner of your mouth with her thumb.

Almost instinctively, your lips parted. Larissa’s breath hitched, her heart doing that damn fluttering thing in her chest. You looked so beautiful, she thought. So open to her, so inviting.

Without thinking about it twice, she pushed the tip of her finger between your parted lips. And without thinking about it twice, your tongue licked the pad of her thumb clean.

A shiver ran down Larissa’s spine and she pulled her hand away from your lips, leaving you with your mouth half open and a questioning look on your face.

“Larissa, I-“ you started apologising but the older woman cut you off, raising her hand to catch the waiter’s attention.

You stayed quiet as she paid the bill, following when she stood up and buttoned up her blazer. You weren’t sure what you had done exactly to warrant her whole demeanour to change, but it was clear that you had messed up.

She was still silent when you sat down by her side in the car, seemingly lost in her own thoughts as she drove away from the restaurant.

Larissa was as lost as you were, thousands of thoughts rushing through her mind as she remembered everything that had happened that day. This was nothing more than a beneficial agreement - she found herself thinking for what seemed to be the hundredth time that day.

She was still quiet by the time she dropped you off at your place, reaching for the envelope inside the glove compartment and carefully placing it on your lap.

“Larissa, you don’t have to-“

“I know. But that’s what we agreed on, I’m paying you for your time.”

You gave a slight nod and pushed the envelope inside your handbag.

“Well,” you started, turning a little to face Larissa who kept her gaze outside the windshield. “Thank you for today.”

The older woman nodded and gently squeezed your knee without looking at you.

For a second you wondered if that was it, if this was the last time you’d see her. And then it hit you, the sudden urge to lunge at her and pull her into a kiss. Maybe it would wipe the worry off her pretty blue eyes and the pout off her crimson lips. But you didn’t kiss her, choosing instead to mutter a quiet “goodnight” before getting out of the car.

You didn’t see Larissa again after that night, at least not for a while. She didn’t contact you anymore, not even a single text to ask how you were doing. And maybe, you thought, maybe that was for the best. Sure, money was tight again but…

“Fuck!” You dropped the letter on your coffee table. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. You were fucked.

“What do you mean you don’t do instalments?!” You snapped at the woman on the other side of the phone that was pressed to your ear. “Yes, yes I get that! I get that it’s my fault but-“ you groaned when the woman cut you off again to remind you for the third time that you had missed part of the payment for your college fees and you had to pay for the remaining amount as soon as possible.

“For god’s sake, I’m a college student! Where do you think I’ll find two thousand dollars before Friday?! No, no my parents won’t-“ you pinched the bridge of your nose and took a deep breath. It was clear that the conversation wasn’t going anywhere, so you thanked the woman for her time and hung up.

You were fucked.

Asking your parents for help was useless, you already knew that. Maybe you could pick up a few more shifts at the bar but that meant you’d have to skip some classes and even then you would never gather that much money in a few days. And then it hit you. There was someone in your life who did have that kind of money.

You sighed loudly and sat down on the couch, staring at the phone that was still in your hand. You couldn’t just text Larissa asking her for two grand, not after you hadn’t talked to each other in weeks. No, you’d have to come up with a plan. And so you did.

It was a fairly simple plan. You texted Larissa asking how she was doing and chatting for a while before you offered to see each other. “A drink at my place,” you said. You knew that Larissa was attracted to you, a blind person could have told you that. Were you attracted to her though? You shook your head to get rid of the thought. It didn’t matter if you were attracted or not, all that mattered was that she was.

She had arrived at your place that evening with a bottle of Chardonnay. “I hate showing up empty-handed.” She’d told you when you said you had a couple of red wine bottles in the cupboard.

Larissa was a vision, as always. A beige-coloured coat that she shrugged off her shoulders to reveal a tight dress of the exact same beige fabric. Her hair was tied in one of those intricate updos, like the ones you’d seen in old movies, and her lips painted a darker shade of red. She was a vision.

“Make yourself comfortable, please.” You smiled and gestured towards the sofa. After a few seconds of hesitation, you opted to open a bottle of red. You had a feeling Larissa had a preference for it.

“There,” You said, placing the two glasses on the coffee table and sitting down next to the older woman. “Had a good day at work?”

“I did, it could have been worse.” Larissa gently clinked her glass against yours and took a swig of wine. She never shared much about her work which only made you more curious.

She asked about your day and you told her about it, avoiding mentioning the astronomical bill you had to pay.

“I’m glad you could come tonight.” You smiled and took a sip.

“I’m glad you invited me, I know it’s not an easy thing to let people into our space.”

“You’re right, but I trust you.“ How ironic. “It’s not much, but it’s home.” You added, looking around your living room.

Larissa hummed and took another sip of wine, uncrossing her legs and crossing them again.

“Do you live in a house?” You asked, hoping to learn more about her.

“I…No, it’s a bit complicated. I have my own apartments at work.” Larissa explained, visibly ill at ease.

“It’s fine, I know you don’t like sharing about your private life.” You pushed a small smile and carefully placed your hand on Larissa’s leg, right above her knee where the soft fabric of her dress gave way to her alabaster skin.

“Thank you,” Larissa whispered, adjusting herself so she could look at you.

You felt bad at the thought of what you were about to do. Your stomach twisting in your belly as Larissa’s gaze bore into yours. You liked her. You couldn’t do this.

Almost as a reflex you lifted your hand and emptied your drink to give yourself more courage.

“May I kiss you?” It left your lips without you even thinking about it.

Larissa’s eyes widened to the point where she looked like a deer caught in the headlights of a fast-approaching car.

Well, that did not go as you had expected.

The silence was almost too unbearable so you cleared your throat and moved to get up from the couch, hoping to pour yourself another glass of wine when slender fingers wrapped around your forearm and yanked you back down. Next thing you knew Larissa’s lips were crashing against yours, her right hand finding purchase on your cheek and pulling you impossibly closer.

“Yes,” she whispered out of breath when she eventually pulled away from you, her red lipstick smudged around her mouth up to the tip of her nose. “Yes, you may kiss me. And you may not stop.”

Larissa couldn’t help but notice the way your pupils dilated in reaction to her words. So you did want her. You wanted her like she wanted you and that made the woman’s heart swell in her chest.

“Kiss me again.” A demand that you couldn’t say no to, really. And so you kissed her again. And again. And again. Until she pulled you so you’d straddle her thighs and her lips eventually left yours, busying themselves on leaving red marks along your jaw and down your neck.

“Larissa-“ it came out as a strangled cry, your fingertips gently tugging on the woman’s hair and messing up her neat updo.

“Stop me if I go too far.” She whispered against your skin as her hands slipped under your dress to caress your thighs.

You weren’t sure if this was still part of your plan. Sure, you had hoped to seduce her thinking it might make her more susceptible to lend you the money but maybe this was actually going too far.

“I need two grand-“ it was out of your mouth in less than a second and Larissa’s hand instantly stilled their movements.

“What ?” She huffed in disbelief.

“I-I need two grand for a bill, but I’ll pay you back! I swear!”

Larissa huffed again and shook her head, her hands moving to her hair in an attempt to fix her updo - or perhaps to ground herself, you weren’t sure.

“This is why you called me here, isn’t it?”

You quickly stood up from the woman’s thighs and fixed your dress.

“No! Of course not-“ you swallowed thickly as she rose to her full height and towered over you.

Larissa’s face was flushed and you could tell it wasn’t the same flush as a few minutes before. No, this time she was furious.

“Larissa, Listen-“ You tried, taking a step back and watching her take one forward.

“No!” She growled with a severity that made the hair on the back of your neck stand up. “It’s your turn to listen.”

You took another step back as she took one closer, then another one, until she had you trapped against the fridge.

“You lied to me,” she said. “You made me come here, made me believe that you wanted to spend time with me. But all you care about is my money, isn’t it?” Larissa hissed, baring her teeth like a rabid dog. “You would sell your body like some cheap whore on the street.”

“And you would buy it!” You snapped, unable to let her bite you without biting her back.

“No, that’s where you’re wrong. I wouldn’t. I don’t mind paying for your time, your company. But this? No. It would feel like using you, and I already feel guilty enough as it is. Although you obviously don’t mind using me.” Larissa took a step back and reached inside her handbag, pulling out her chequebook and opening it.

“What are you-“ you started, only to be cut off by the older woman.

“I care.” Larissa simply said as she wrote the cheque. “And I thought-“ she slightly shook her head and handed you the cheque. Two thousand dollars. “Yes, I thought.” She repeated before giving a nod and putting her beige coat back on.

“Larissa,” you tried, gently wrapping your hand around her bicep.

“No,” she shook her head again and pulled away. “You’ve played me. You won’t see me again, sweetling.” It was said without any animosity. Instead, you found that her blue eyes were filled with melancholy as if she had been through this before and life was just repeating itself.

I’m sorry, you wanted to say, I’m sorry I lied to you and manipulated you. And I’m sorry to be hurting you.

You wanted to rip the cheque into pieces, to show her that it didn’t matter. But it did. You needed the money or you’d be kicked out of college. But, Larissa. Larissa, Larissa, Larissa. Larissa and her melancholy-filled eyes. I’m not like the ones who’ve hurt you before, you wanted to shout. But you were. Perhaps you were even worse than them.

Larissa and her melancholy-filled eyes.

Larissa and her warmth-filled laugh.

Larissa and her love-filled kisses.

Love-filled kisses.

Oh, god.

Of course.

You hadn’t realised it. Not before that moment. Larissa didn’t just like you. She had feelings for you.

“Larissa!” You exclaimed, snapping out of your thoughts only to find your apartment empty.

She was gone.

You were fucked.

————————————————————————

Taglist: @raspburrythief @weemssapphic @readingtheentrails @larissaoftarthweems @principal-weems09 @kimiinou @winterfireblond @im-a-carnivorous-plant @geekyarmorel @h-doodles @azu-zu @barbarasstar @witchesmortuary @m1lflov3rrr @dumbasslesbi @crow-raven-crow @fridays-coven @lilfartbox1 @shawncantwrite @autumn-leaves-chasing-breeze @gwens0girl @aemilia19 @the-bagel24 @lvinhs @thefutureisus2020 @gela123 @a-queen-and-her-throne @rando-mango @wheresmyboo @my-silver-spring @hillary-nicks @ablsk @natasha29romanoff @tallvampirelady12 @canyoufeelmyheartsayinghi @i-love-nerdy-stuff @1-800-milfdilf @scarlettssub @jasperobsidian-blog @i-write-sometimes-maybe @brienne-the-brave @slytherinthepms @non-binary-frogking @wife-of-gwendolinechristie @anjo-iludidoefudido @imnotafruitt @opheliauniverse

#gwendoline christie #larissa weems x reader #larissa weems #secret benefits #no beta we die like larissa #principal weems #larissa weems x y/n #you know I had to write angst #it’s what I do #it’s what I live for

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toniiswrld · 2 months

Note

Fucking Anton is so hot BUT imagine him making love to you? Like in missionary? Looking into your eyes as you struggle to keep them open? Snuggling into your neck like how he did into taros in THAT video?? Kissing your neck and leaving hickies on your neck and on your chest? I just know he makes love so intimately I’m gonna go crazy😭 and the aftercare is gonna be so fndnndndndnfndnddnndnddm top notch princess treatment😭

i’ve been looking at this ask for like 3 days giggling and swinging my feet thinking about what i’d write for it. that one tweet thats like “fucking him in missionary cuz he’s so pretty” is all i can think of 😵‍💫

anton is such a romantic, he doesn’t refer to you two having sex as fucking but always says he’s making love to you 💔 he loves you so much and always wants the moment to be as intimate and special for the both of you. dim lights, candles, and the perfect playlist. he gets down he dont play

i feel like he loves missionary because he can see your face, and he can touch you better. he thinks you’re so beautiful, in and outside of the bedroom. he loves to see the way you react to certain movements, the way your face would contort with pleasure. he’d nuzzle himself into your neck while you claw at his back, each slow thrust hitting so deep inside you. he would mark you up a lot more than usual, lips always connected to the skin on your neck, chest, and shoulders.

he’s in your ear telling you how good you feel, how perfect you are, and how much he loves you between thrusts, moaning through his words at you squeezing around him after each praise.

your legs would be around his waist, ankles resting on the back of his thighs as if you were keeping him grounded. he’s resting on his elbows, chest to chest with you as you arch into him.

when he felt you getting close he would slightly change the position, bringing your legs to your chest so he can move deeper inside you. you praise the boy, knowing that it keeps him going, telling him that he’s so good to you and to keep hitting that spot while you let out soft whimpers.

he’d try to kiss you, but the both of you were so immersed in the feeling of each other that it was hard to kiss back. so you’d leave little pecks on his nose, his check, and his lips.

the eye contact would be lethal, staring into his eyes while he’s hitting a spot that makes your legs shake. trying your best to keep them open, because anton loves the way your eyes look up to him in this position, and he loves the way your eyes roll back while you struggle to maintain eye contact.

you two were cumming at the same time, warmth flooding your body as his cum filled you up. you gripped onto his shoulder as you came, body trembling as your back arched off the bed. he would pull out of you, rubbing small circles on your hip to soothe the feeling of emptiness along with the tension that rested in your hips.

he’d kiss your lips so softly, telling you that you did so well and that he loves you. he would kiss you all over your body, giving you praise after praise as you both relaxed into eachother. he would carry you into the bathroom, setting you on the toilet while he turned to run you a warm bath.

of course, you’d ask him to join you, and he would sit behind you and massage your tense muscles while you leaned onto him.

every time i get an anton ask i go just a bit insane 🤏🏽

#riize smut #riize hard hours #riize hard thoughts #anton hard hours #anton smut #anton hard thoughts #toniiswrld #toniiswrld 💌

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marcsburnerphone · 3 months

Text

And they were roommates

(Captain John price x F!reader)

Summary: the captain wants somewhere more homely to settle down and when an offer like yours comes alight on Zillow he must take up on it.

Warnings: nightmares, awko moments, kissing?

part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4 - part 5 - part 6!!!!! -part 7

-------------

The next morning when John woke up it was as if his life had changed filters, like if he went from dramatic cool to dramatic warm. There was a small pep in his step as he got out of bed. You were usually always asleep before 9AM so he decided he’d go buy the two of you breakfast from this small cafe you like not too far down the road, he knew when he was younger there was nothing like a good breakfast after a night of drinking.

On the other hand when you woke up you thought you’d dreamt it, the kiss couldn’t have been real. You’d never be that bold. But the nervous jitter in your belly at the thought of leaving your room was telling you all you needed to know. Along with the smile that’s been plastered on your face since the sound of your rattling windows from the heavy breeze woke you up.

Thankfully no hangover so therefore life’s great. You did desperately want to shower though after waking up in the same clothes you went out in. Which also meant it was going to have to be laundry day.

When he got back he picked up on the sound of your shower running and the steam that escaped beneath the door. He set the food in the kitchen unpacking what was his and yours, placing it in your usual seats at the table.

After a long shower filled with music and wasted water you dressed into comfortable home clothes, basically pajamas. Gathering the sheets and blankets from your

bed in a bear hug you begin to make your way to the laundry room, when you get there you drop everything on the floor with a huff.

“Doll?” John says from down the hallway as the sound of his footsteps grow closer

“Hey, goodmorning.” Shit shit shit.

“Morning, I got breakfast if you’re hungry.” He notices the way you slightly stiffen and how you don’t look back to greet him.

“Yeah actually, Thankyou.” Back to your shy nature he presumes, except he’s seemingly stepped out of his. There’s nothing John Price loves more than being on the same page as someone and if he’s assured of anything it is that you feel the same way he does.

“Okay, it’s on the table. I’ll eat when you do.” He says, walking away.

You let out a sigh of relief when he left, smiling to yourself at the girlish feelings so alive in you. When you finally made it to the kitchen you saw his silhouette outside. Even in the harsh weather he stood with a beanie and jacket on, lit cigar between his lips.

You give two knocks on the kitchen window catching his attention. When he notices you he snuffs the cigar into the small ashtray you bought for him and heads inside.

“You’re crazy for standing out there.” You say softly as you notice the effort it takes him to slide the door shut.

“I’ve done crazier.” He remarks.

You sit on the table as he does the same. You get that familiar warm feeling in your cheeks when you realize he got your exact order. Maybe it’s from the million times you’ve phone ordered it, regardless it’s sweet.

“So.” You say trying to see if he’ll be the one to bring it up.

“So?” He says with a smirk taking a sip of his coffee.

“So, I kissed you last night.” You have to talk about it, you could never be the one to just let it be.

“Did you?” He smirks.

“I did, and I want to know if that was okay with you or if I misread the room.” He laughs a little wondering if maybe he’s too subtle.

“No misreading was done love, next time I’d just appreciate a proper one.” The blush on your face gives him even more confidence.

“Well for your information I intended on giving you an actual kiss but my coordination had been slightly off.” You laugh as you say it cause although it’s embarrassing it’s very true.

“Well doll, there’ll be more opportunities I’m sure of it.”

“Oh Okay.” Lord save you.

“Besides your rendezvous, I wanted to know if I could have some pals over tomorrow. We have some work to do and I’m not quite keen on going to base.”

“Of course.”

—————

That night you decide to cook dinner, it’s only fair since he bought breakfast. You both agreed on pasta since you have all the ingredients for it. Although you told John you could cook alone he insisted he’d help as it’s the nice thing to do but truthfully he just wanted to be around you.

“So you grew up not too far from here?” He asks as you dice garlic.

“Yeah about an hour away.” You have your hair pulled back and are constantly moving the stray pieces from your face.

“Do you ever visit home?”

“Hah absolutely not, stay as far away from it as possible.” He doesn’t question it further but doesn’t miss the tone in your voice when you speak of it.

“I hear you talk to your sister a lot, are you close?” He loves hearing you talk, loves getting to know you even more.

“Yeah, she’s my best friend.” You smile, reminding yourself to call her and update her on these past two days.

“What about you, any siblings?” You ask looking over to him seeing that he’s done chopping the tomatoes and now just leans against the counter.

“No, only child.”

“Really? I wouldn’t have guessed. You're very selfless.” It’s nice to hear from you. You’re the only thing he can imagine being selfish about.

“Years of being in the military will do that to you.”

He takes the pasta off the burner and drains it through the strainer. When he puts the empty pot back onto the burner you begin on the sauce.

“Will the same people I met when you first moved in be the ones coming?”

“Yeah.” He says while setting placemats and cutlery on the table.

You’re content in the low hum of radio music that fills in the silence amongst you two. He still stands near you but no words are being said. He watches the way you precisely add different ingredients one by one. When you're done you serve onto the plates for both of you.

“Thank You doll.”

“It was a team effort so thankyou.” You offer him a small smile before you both begin to eat. Conversation flows nicely between bites. He makes you laugh over dumb stories from his time in the military and you tell him embarrassing stories that happened in middle school. He feels normal, like a human when he’s around you. Like his hands are clean of all the violence he’s committed in his life.

When dinner is over you tackle the dishes together, you wash, he dries and puts away till there’s no more.

“Well I’ll see you Tomorrow then.” You say washing your hands and drying them on the kitchen towel.

“Goodnight love.” Before you can get the chance to turn down the hall to your room he’s calling out to you.

“Yeah?” He makes his way towards you and it’s slightly intimidating till he reaches you, positioning a gentle and slightly rough hand on your cheek before placing a long proper kiss to your lips. It’s electric now that you’re fully sober. Warm yet slightly needy. He pulls away and places one more on the corner of your lips like you had his.

“That’s a proper kiss doll.” He jests.

“I can definitely tell the difference.” He laughs a little, swiping a stray hair behind your ear.

“Sleep well.” He adds before heading back down the hall.

—————-

“And we kissed again last night too.” You talk into the phone while kicking your feet under the covers as you still lay in bed awake earlier than usual.

“You didn’t.” She couldn’t be happier for you. You worried her sometimes, she knew you never were outwardly going to look for someone new and since she lived so far away she couldn’t just check up on you when she wanted so she smiles widely as you tell her about your escapades.

“We did, I really like him, you know.” You really really do.

“I’m so happy for you.” She laughs but before you can respond there’s a knock at your door.

“Hold on, come in.” You slightly yell out. John opens the door taking notice of the phone by your ear.

“Sorry doll, I wanted to come tell you that my mates will be here soon, just a heads up.” You smile, giving him a thumbs up with your free hand.

If life loved John as much as he wished he’d be lying next to you by now. Instead he smiles at you with a wink and closes the door.

“That was him, did you hear him?” You laugh.

“If the voice matches the man, my sister you are lucky, not as lucky as him though, don’t forget that.”

You talk for a while longer before letting her get back to her busy life. When you get out of bed you hear deep voices enter your home traveling to where you assume would be John’s office.

You change into a simple outfit, certainly nothing extravagant, but also not pajamas. On your way to the kitchen you turn the heater on so it can warm up before it gets colder outside. You search the fridge wondering what to eat for breakfast and decide on eggs and toast.

—

“Captain, do you have a water bottle I can grab?” Gaz asks, they’re doing a lot of talking and debriefing on their last mission filing the paperwork they’ve all avoided.

“Em yeah in the fridge on the door.” The captain dismisses him trying to type in certain coordinates.

“Grab us one too.” The two other men say as Gaz gets up and leaves. When he makes it to the kitchen he notices you but doesn’t know what to say.

“Hello ma’am.” That’s all he could come up with.

“Jesus good god, hello gaz.” You jump in surprise at the unfamiliar yet not complete stranger.

“Sorry sorry.” You wave him off as he apologizes.

“I think I get startled too easily.” You laugh and he smiles.

“Just came to grab water.” He says motioning forward to your fridge.

“Yeah no problem.”

“You have a stunning kitchen by the way, really like the white cabinets.” He compliments.

“Really, when my ex and I got the house I had the old ones which were a grayish color removed and put these ones in, he hated it.” You laugh at the memory.

“A man with no taste. These are lovely and this lighting, it’s really beautiful.” You thank him again and go into mindless conversation about other remodeling projects you had done, he had questions after everything you said and lost track of time.

—

“Gaz, where were you when the explosion happened?” Price questions and looks up after a minute when there’s no response.

“He hasn’t come back yet, captain.” Soap says with a small grin. “I think he’s chatting it up with the lass out there.”

Their captain gets out of his chair. Silently leaving the room to go see what his sergeant is up to. As he approaches the kitchen he hears you laughing and relaxes his tense features before walking into the kitchen.

“So these used to be granite tiles till I changed them to white ones.” You say pointing at the backsplash above the counter.

“You could be an interior designer.” Gaz remarks and you smile.

“Sergeant, where should you be?” John uses the voice of a captain, one you're not very familiar with.

Both of you turn to look at him and you start to defend him.

“Sorry John, I kept him here, that’s my fault.” You say looking at him apologetically. He wants to tell you to stop making those eyes at him because they make him soft, too soft.

“Sergeant back to work.” He says as gaz bids you a smile and mouths Thank You, he quietly passes John to get back to his office.

“Is that your scary man voice?” You ask him with a small smirk.

“It can be a lot scarier.”

“I like it.” He’s weak for you, physically and emotionally this man craves you in ways that are impossible to comprehend.

“Careful.” Is all he says before walking away. He leans against the wall by his office out of view from anyone quickly adjusting his pants like a boy in puberty before getting back to work.

——

By the time they're done it’s nearly midnight. You're laying on the couch watching a movie when you hear the heavy footsteps of the men reach the kitchen and John’s in particular make their way to you.

“You’re still up?” He asks, looming over the back of the couch.

“Can’t sleep.”

“The winds are heavy and it’s a little late. I was wondering if they could stay the night? They’ll sleep in my room. If not doll please don’t be hesitant to let me know.” He asks quietly.

“Yeah that’s fine, where will you sleep?” You smile softly at him and his tired eyes.

“Out here.” You nod letting him know it’s okay before he leaves for a second to tell them. They all Thank You as you get up to grab extra blankets from your closet.

You bring them to John’s rooms seeing them all figuring out where and how they’re going to sleep. You ask John if you could talk to him real quick in the hallway and he quickly excuses himself.

“John, those men are too grown to sleep on the floor and to share a bed.” You quietly exclaim.

“Doll, I can assure you they’ve slept worse.”

“Men, you don’t see the issue. They’re not at work though this is their time to get good sleep.”

“Well I don’t have much more to offer.”

“One of them can sleep in my room, one on the air mattress and one of them can sleep on your bed.” He looks at you slightly confused.

“Where will you sleep?”

“With whoever sleeps in my bed.” He looks at you like you're crazy and is about to very loudly protest. “I'm kidding, we can share the couch I only need like one cushion to sleep on.” It’s true you sleep like a Rollie Pollie.

“Fine.” He doesn’t object to the idea at all which you're slightly surprised about and walks back into his room to tell them. Gaz is the one that gets sent out to you and you take him to your room.

“Here’s the remote, I’m sorry about all the pillows but the sheets are clean and the bathroom is right across the hall.” You smile at him and he thanks you for saving him from the hardwood floors. You laugh and take your favorite pillow, you say your goodnight and head to the living room.

“You didn’t have to do that, you know.” John says as you walk to the opposite side of the couch.

“I know.” You say settling into your usual spot. John throws one of the blankets you gave to him for the boys over you. At this point you're so tired you lay on your side letting whatever action movie John put on lull you to sleep.

You wake up suddenly sometime during the night the tv now off making it hard to see. You hear John murmuring things in his sleep getting louder by the second. You sit up tapping his arm to wake him and realize how warm he is. You reach to turn on the lamp beside the couch so you could actually see. Sweat begins to form on his brow line as his hands shake at his sides.

“John.” You whisper quietly, shaking his arm. He doesn’t wake so you do it again a little rougher. Still nothing.

“John.” You said a bit louder, finally waking him. His wide eyes look around as his left hand reaches to grip the hand you had on his arm.

“Doll?” He says squinting his eyes at you while trying to catch his breath.

“Yeah I’m here.” He continues to breathe roughly as you sit there. The way he refuses to meet your eyes makes you want to cry. He looks distressed and worn down.

“Bad dream.” He whispers gruffly.

You don’t need words to comfort him. You slide down the couch to lay opposite of how you had been before and place your head on his chest. He lifts his arm from beneath you and drapes it over your mid back. You listen intently to the rapid beat of his heart waiting for it to slow. After a while it does as his breath evens out. After a bit you drift back into sleep.

----------

thankyou for reading <3

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sports-on-sundays · 5 months

Text

people change / CL16 / Part 1

Summary: dad!Charles x French!ex!reader - You wish you could just forget about the relationship. It's hard when you had a son together.

Warnings: 'Y/s/n' means 'your son's name', you are free to imagine the son as whatever age he acts because I leave that unspecified, mention of breaking up/divorce, broken family, censored cussing, getting drunk, toxic relationship, me sucking at writing kids (how do they even act???)

Requested?: No.

Author's Note: This was heavily inspired by the song People Change by for KING & COUNTRY at the end there especially. I listened to it while writing. So you're free to look that up and have a listen. Link to part 2 / Link to part 3

"Hey, sweetie," you say as you buckle your son into the car. "How was your day at school?"

"Fun... But Mama, I didn't know what to do."

"Hm? When didn't you know what to, love?" you ask, concerned.

"Well, we did papers and pictures about our mommies and daddies and our houses and stuff and I didn't know, Mama..."

You stop after he says this, pulling your hands away as they tremble. Your heart, at those words from your son, feels like it's being wrenched out of your chest, and you cough into your arm. "O- Oh, sweetheart..." you clear your throat. "Well, why don't you first draw pictures and write about me and my house, and then you write and draw about your daddy and his house..."

Your son does a pouting face at this. "Mama..." he complains. "Why can't you and Daddy be like other kids' mommies and daddies?"

"Love, I don't think this is the time to be talking about this. Let's just get driving home now." You hate to shut him down, but he's asking too many questions that you just can't answer.

He's asking too many questions that are making you feel too confused and guilty.

"Hey, buddy. What's up?" you smile as you get out of the car to help your son pack his bags into the trunk, and then get in the backseat. You're doing this right outside Charles' house. You're picking him up from his weekend with his dad.

The little boy shrugs as you buckle him in. "I want my grey bag, Mama! Daddy gave me some food for the ride."

"What do you say?"

"Please!" he pouts.

You nod, and give him his bag. Charles is always sure to equip Y/s/n with a bagful of healthy snacks for the hour and forty-five minute drive back home.

The whole ride, Y/s/n is unusually quiet. Even when you try talking to him, he gives short answers and makes no effort to continue the conversation. Which is very unusual from the usually frisky and excitable little boy.

When you get home and go inside, he immediately goes to his room, still not saying anything.

You sigh, feeling worried.

Did...

Did Charles do something?

Even though the two of you separated for big reasons, you've never felt too worried about Y/s/n going to see him every other weekend, except for maybe at the beginning. Over the years, you're pretty sure that Charles has gotten more responsible than how he once was.

"Dinnertime, love!"

Silence.

"Love?"

"I'm not hungry!"

You sigh, the worry sinking deeper. "You should have saved some of your dad's snack for later, then! I made dinner for you!"

Silence. Again.

You walk down the hall and knock on his bedroom door, before gently pushing it open. The little boy is sitting on his red bed. In his hand is his Ferrari hat. He's blankly staring at it.

Oh God no. What did Charles do? What did Charles say? Doesn't he understand the unspoken boundaries about this?

"Y/s/n?" you say gently, sitting down next to him. "What's wrong, sweetie? You know you can tell me. I'm listening."

The boy looks older than he is right now. You feel a sharp pang in your chest as he murmurs, "Why do you and daddy live in different countries? How come I have two houses, two bedrooms... two everything? How come, Mama?"

It takes all you have to not tear up. You wrap your arms tightly around him at this. He leans against you, hugging you back.

"Andre and Alex have a mommy and daddy who live in the same house. How come you and Daddy don't?"

"Y/s/n, it's really complicated, love. But, can I ask... What has got you thinking of all of this, love? What has got this on your mind?" You speak in a very gentle tone, rubbing his back. Obviously, this is upsetting him. Really, though, what kid wouldn't be upset?

Your son looks at you in hesitation. "I'm not allowed to say..."

You feel another pang of worry. "Love, it's okay. You can tell your mama anything."

"But Daddy told me not to."

You swallow nervously. "You're not doing anything wrong by telling me. I'm giving you permission. I can't have you feeling this upset, love. You can tell me anything that's bothering you, even if your father told you not to." Y/s/n is too much of a good kid. You don't know where he gets it from.

You wipe your son's watering eyes, trying to reassure him. He sniffs, before saying, "You won't tell Daddy?"

"Tell Daddy what?"

"What I'm gonna tell you."

You bite your lip. "Of course not, love. I won't tell your daddy."

He nods, before saying, as he starts to really cry, "Daddy cried, Mommy... I wasn't allowed to know but I couldn't sleep because Daddy forgot to read me my story. So I was going in to tell him to snuggle me... because I couldn't sleep. But Daddy was crying..." Y/s/n sniffs, and continues blubbering, "Daddy was talking to someone on the phone and he was really sad... I don't know why Daddy was crying, Mama. He said he was sad because he missed you and me to the person on the phone. Daddy was so sad so I don't know why we don't make Daddy happy and why can't my mommy and daddy be like my friends' mommies and daddies?" He lets out a sob, snuggling into you. You're speechless as your son continues, "I went and gave Daddy a hug because he was sad. He said he missed you. He asked me why I was up and said I was in trouble and said I wasn't allowed to tell you he was sad and crying. He said even daddies cry sometimes," he sniffs and lets out another sob. You hold him tight, eyes wide. "I asked him how come he was sad and he said he didn't know and he loved me and then we went to bed. I don't get it, Mama."

You try not to tremble.

Fighting off tears, because the last thing Y/s/n needs is to see his mom cry on top of it all. Not sad tears, though. Angry tears.

Why can't Charles just let go? He's so possessive and obsessive. F*ck him and his Monaco flat and his boat and his Ferrari and everything f*cking else. Why would he let his son see him so vulnerable. Doesn't he care? F*ck him.

Why can't he just let go?

You walk down the hall of the mall, your son's little hand in yours, heading to the food court because eventually, Y/s/n's complaining about how 'I'm hungryyyyy!' got too annoying, and you gave in.

Suddenly, though, his little hand slips out of yours. You look down at him in confusion, starting to say his name. He starts running away. You're about to go after him, but suddenly freeze when the little boy shouts, "Look, Mama, look! It's Daddy! Daddy! Hi, Daddy! Hiiiii!"

And sure enough, Charles Leclerc stops as soon as he sees his son, a grin spreading across his face. He adjusted his cap to be lower on his forehead, clearly trying to go incognito here. But he bends down, and the moment little Y/s/n reaches Charles, his father scoops him up into his arms, standing up with an, "Auwgh," noise, as if it were really hard for the strong man to pick up his light son. Charles holds him tight, in an embrace, before saying, "What's up, buddy? Where's your mama?" Y/s/n points, and Charles looks up.

Your eyes meet. And everything stops. The voices, the music, the whir of the escalators, the lights, heating, and air conditioning all making their own sounds, the people walking past- everyone else living their own lives disappear.

And it's just you and Charles, eyes locked, staring at each other.

Heartbeats or seconds or minutes, you don't know. You feel a certain electricity that hurts. Shocks you. Maybe Charles likes how it feels though. Maybe he loves that, with his adrenaline seeking lifestyle. Because, after all, he doesn't look away.

But in the same way, you don't either.

Finally, it's your son that breaks the trance you seemed to go into with your ex-husband, by saying suddenly words that stress you out and tear you apart at the same time: "See, Daddy?" He pats his father's cheek, which has a little bit of facial hair. "You don't have to cry anymore... You don't..." Suddenly, he looks a little scared, realizing he wasn't supposed to say that, but finishes softly with, "You don't have to miss Mama anymore, Daddy, because she's right here..."

There's almost a pleading in your son's eyes. A longing. You feel yourself start to tear up, but you strive to hold them back. Y/s/n. He loves us. He loves his parents so much. He just wishes they would love each other.

Charles shakes his head in surprise, stroking Y/s/n's hair, "Buddy, it's okay. Don't worry. I'm okay. I don't-" he falters for just a moment before finishing quickly, glancing to you nervously, "I don't miss Mama anymore. Don't worry."

"But I miss Mama." At this, both of you look at your son in confusion.

"But Y/s/n, Mama is right here," Charles says carefully, taking more steps closer to you. "See? Do you want to go with M-"

"No!" your son suddenly snaps, and says as if it is the most obviously thing on earth, "When I'm with Daddy, I miss Mama. When I'm with Mama, I miss Daddy. I don't wanna miss you guys!"

All the sudden, it's too much for you. All of it. Before Charles can do anything else you say quickly, your voice obviously cracking and your breath shaky, "Charles, can you take him home today? I'm sorry-"

"Of course, Y/n. I-"

You turns, jogging away. You need to get out of there.

But as you run out, you hear Charles call after you, "Y/n! Y/n, wait! Y/n, we're going to talk on the phone tonight, okay? There's things we still need to go over!"

At around 3:00 A.M., Charles calls. While you're worried to answer, you're also relieved. The fact that you're still awake at 3:00 A.M. shows how much anxiety you've been feeling about getting this call from Charles.

When you pick up, you murmur softly, "Hey, Charles."

"Sorry I'm calling at this hour. God. I just had to make sure Y/s/n was sound asleep. I'm, uhm," he pauses to clear his throat awkwardly, and continues in a softer, more delicate voice, "I'm sure Y/s/n told you about the phone call the other weekend..."

"Y- Yeah, he did. What did you do? Did you scare him into not telling me? He was crying," you say, your voice becoming harder and harder as you speak.

"What?! No! I just asked him please not to tell you. That was it. Maybe he was crying because..." Charles trails off.

"Because why?" you snap, although the sinking feeling within tells you exactly why.

"Y/n..." he sighs loudly. "Because our son loves us and doesn't get why... w- we... don't- don't, uhm.... love each other." The facts that he falters so much on that last phrase, that it's so hard for him to get out, sends a pit in your stomach. Of dread, and anger.

And without another hesitation, you just say it. "Charles... you still love me, don't you?"

There's silence over the phone. Sickly, disgusting, terrible silence. The anger rises up in you higher and higher, like a pressure, trying to push you on your tipping point. So finally you snap, probably way too loud, "Charles, what the hell! F*ck you. I hate you, you f*cking asshole. You're too much of a f*cking coward to even say it! Just like you've always been!" Your voice gets louder and louder. "Just like you've always been! Too much of a f*cking coward to admit anything! You tricked me! You had me thinking everything was peaches and cream, but it wasn't! You were being a terrible person and played innocent, and whenever I asked you anything, you did the same exact thing you still do. You just keep silent. Charles, I know you'll never grow, I hate that my son has to see your sorry ass every other weekend, and if I knew it wouldn't break his sweet little heart, I would wish your pathetic silent self would just fall off the face of the earth so I didn't have to ever have to listen to your stupid, pathetic silence ever again."

"Y/n, I-" You hang up. Charles doesn't try to call back.

Years ago.

Charles came in and stumbled into your arms, as if you were the one that needed to take care of him. You were tired, having stayed up with your fussy baby boy nearly all night, with no help, and you wanted to cry. You didn't want Charles to stumble in, drunk, right into your arms, as if he was the one who needed help. No. He was the one causing the problem. He had reeked of alcohol. He didn't get drunk this often, and you knew exactly why he was doing it now, although he'd been too scared while sober to admit it to you. It was the argument you'd had, and his way of coping was going out, getting drunk, and coming home to his wife and baby at three in the morning, wasted. Now, while drunk out of his mind, he was able to murmur, his words slurred tremendously, "Y/n... I'm sorry, love... You should've come with me tonight. I had fun... We could... make up for that argument..." He had a sickly seductive tone in his voice.

You felt rage fill up in you. Did you forget about your son? The son that you and I created together? Did you forget about that? Instead of letting any of that rage escape you, you just brought him to the bedroom and helped him into bed. You left him, walked to the living room, sat down on the couch, and held your aching, tired head, pulling at your hair, as tears escaped your closed eyelids.

Your world was spinning. Everything was wrong.

The argument. You had started it. And yelled at him. About how he was a coward and never told the truth. Even though you loved him. You thought. You must've. You... You had a son together. You yelled at him for telling you he was working when he wasn't. You yelled at him that he wasn't helping you at all and that you were going out of your mind. You said you felt like a single mom because he was never around, never helped, and never tried to. He lied and told you that an event he had mentioned that you were excited for was cancelled because he had found out more things about the event that he didn't want to deal with himself. He was becoming more and more selfish, showing who he really was more and more every single day. It just made you think- what is he doing when he gets drunk? What else is he being dishonest about?

Eventually you stopped loving him. You loved your son much more, so you broke it off. The final tipping point was when you suspected he had cheated, although nothing had ever proved that. But that was when you finally broke it off.

He was heartbroken. He held onto you. No, Y/n, please don't do this. I'll try better. I'll try better. You had told him that he had been saying he'd try better for the past year.

He had cried. Maybe even sobbed. You only saw him sob twice. Once was one time when he was drunk out of his mind, and the other one was that night when you told him you were breaking it off. I guess Y/s/n has seen him sob a third time, though.

He had said to you that he still loved you. You had said if you loved me, you wouldn't have done this. And that was the end of it.

Or so you thought.

You can't believe you're here. You can't believe he convinced you. You set up for your mother to watch Y/s/n while you drive into Monaco and.

Well, yeah. Go to Charles' God-forsaken house. To meet with him. 'Have a talk' as he put it. 'In real life.' So he can 'see your face and expressions.' And 'understand better.'

Charles opens the door. He's wearing a black t-shirt, grey jeans, and has his usual assortment of different bracelets on his wrists. And a disgustingly expensive watch. As you walk into his (beautiful) flat, you see that it hasn't changed much since you left and moved a couple hours closer to home, back in France. Just a little cleaner. But just like how it was when you lived here, there's still a stray toy on the floor here and there. As if reading your mind, he bends down, picking up a few of them, before putting them in a basket in the corner of the room. He runs his hand through his messy, wavy brown hair, looking a little awkward. "Why don't you sit down?" he asks softly, gesturing to the couch by a nod of his head. "Make yourself... comfortable... Uh... I made some cookies. Consider it a peace offering. And I... I really tried to make them good, too. I'm just going to go grab them." And before you can think or react, he's walking out of the room to grab them.

When he returns with the cookies, he sits down next to you, holding the little plate out to you. You hesitantly take one, nibbling off a little bite, nervously glancing to Charles. "It's fine..." you say. In your taste, too sweet (and slightly gooey) but besides that, alright. "But I just want to get this over with, okay? Charles can we just... have this talk? So I can go?"

Your ex husband stared down, before nodding slowly. "Yeah... Of course." He falters, before murmuring, "I love our son just as much as you do. And it hurts me to see him-"

"My God, Charles, shut up. I know what this is about. It's about you being selfish," the bitterness in your voice surprised even yourself, "You're being selfish because for some twisted reason, you still want to be with me, and you're using my son's pain as an excuse. You're just as you've always been- selfish, lying, and making excuses."

"Y/n, no it's not!" he snaps, his eyes pleading. "I- I- I want the best for our son."

"Charles, do you still love me?"

He stares at you. Hesitates. Falters. He inhales a shaky breath, before looking down at his hands in his lap. "All these years I've never dated another woman. All these years the guilt has crushed me."

"Shut up!" you spit. "It's not guilt, Charles, of hurting me your or son. It's guilt because you wouldn't wanted to be with me longer. It's selfish. You're f*cking selfish!"

He practically begs, "Please, babe, just listen-"

"What did you just call me?"

He stares in surprise at what he just said. He swallows. "I'm sorry- It- It just came out..."

You glare, and shout, "You still love me, you dick! I hate you! You- You cheated on me!"

He cuts you off by grabbing your arm suddenly. There's a desperate look in his eyes. "Y/n... No, I didn't... I swear it on my life.. On my job, on everything I love... I would..." You're shocked to watch as a singular tear gently rolls down one of his cheeks. He's holding back more. The salty, warm tear drops right onto your palm. You wipe it off. Charles eyes plead with you as he murmurs, his voice cracking, "I would never cheat on you..."

You stare, trying to form more words, not knowing what to say.

But Charles continues, "I don't know where you got the idea I cheated on you... I know it was hard and I was being..." Suddenly there is guilt and grief openly painted all across his face. "I was being a terrible person... Giving up the most lovely, sweet wife and baby I could've ever asked for... I was young and stupid, Y/n...Y/n... I'm sorry... I'm sorry... I swear I mean it...

"I would do anything for this to work."

Another tear falls.

"Y/n... just listen... I need you to hear me out..."

He sniffs. He seems so broken. Vulnerable. Honest.

"It's all my fault, Y/n. I know. I know. I'm sorry. And I get if you're afraid... I would be, too... but, Y/n... I wish you could just understand that... that...

"Y/n, people change."

Author's Note- Just wanted to say if you guys liked this and want a part two, I'm totally open to writing that! Let me know if you want a part two, and if you have any ideas, shoot! Like should I end this happy? Or not...? And in what way? If no one gives me ideas, I'll just come up with it, but you guys are extremely welcome to let me know!!! Thank you! <3

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munsonslove · 2 years

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Making Deals

(18+ only)

(part 2) • (part 3)

summary: Your friendship with Eddie has always been give and take. He drives you somewhere so you make out with him, he pays for lunch so you let him give you a hickey. It had always been over the clothes, until one day he decided to up the ante.

wordcount: 3.4k

tags/warnings: fem!sub!reader, softdom!perv!eddie, friends to lovers, smut, praise kink (good girl), degradation (use of slut & whore), use of pet names (princess, baby, sweetheart), thigh riding, no use of y/n

a/n: this might be a little rushed cause i really wanted to get this out tonight, specifically so that i could say that it’s my BIRTHDAY which means you legally have to say nice things to me. anyway i’m gonna go get drunk with friends now, enjoy!

Most of your friends assume you two are fucking. It’s understandable, given how Eddie speaks to you. Every conversation is an opportunity for innuendo. The two of you live inside your own little world, and what the people outside of that bubble don’t know is that it’s all a game. Every sly comment, wink, brush of the hand, and “trade off” is him daring you to give in. And although he definitely already knows the effect he has on you, if you were to admit how much you want him it would be forfeiting. So your friendship became a game of cat and mouse, always one-upping each other, always teetering on the edge of something more but never really crossing that line.

No one would believe that you and Eddie were just friends if they knew about what went on behind closed doors. Your friendship had accidentally become a series of give and take. Every time you want something from him- be it free drugs, borrowing something, a ride, a favor, etc.- he would request something in return. That ‘something’ is more often than not perverted. In the beginning, he would ask for innocent things, like kisses on cheeks or hugs, but since growing older (and hornier) his requests became much more debauched. Chaste pecks turned into timed make out sessions, or giving you a hickey, or starting a collection of your bras. One time he even wanted to spit in your mouth, and the memory of feeling his saliva violently hit the back of your throat as he stood towering over you still haunts you in the middle of the night when your hand is between your thighs. You started asking for things from Eddie that you didn’t even really want, all for the sole purpose of having an excuse to do something lewd with him.

That’s how you found yourself here, in the living room of Eddie’s trailer, holding up some random tape you took from his bedroom that you didn’t even read the name of, bargaining about what you’ll have to do to borrow it for the weekend. You expected the basic ‘make out with me for twenty minutes’ or ‘let me feel you up over your shirt’, but to your surprise, he took it a step further this time.

“You want me to do what?” you exclaimed, not believing what you heard.

“Show me your tits,” he says with a wave of his hand, like this was a completely normal request, as if he did nothing more than ask you to pass him a plate during dinner.

Sure, you had done a lot of sexual things with him in the past, but it all included having your clothes still on. Just the thought of disrobing yourself in front of Eddie had your mouth watering.

“Are you serious?” you ask, trying as best as you can to keep your face neutral and not betray how turned on the mere suggestion had you.

“As a heart attack,” he answered.

“That’s pretty expensive, just for a little tape,” you counter. “That’s like… ‘I want to borrow the van’ prices.”

He shrugs. “Well, the market’s changing sweetheart. Costs are going up.”

Feigning boldness, you drop the tape onto the couch and cross your arms in front of your torso before untucking your oversized t-shirt from your skirt and lifting it over your head, tossing onto him. It lands covering his head, and he quickly scrambles to remove the garment, not wanting to miss a second of the show. Underneath was a light blue cotton sports bra. It wasn’t the sexiest, but that didn’t stop the boy in front of you from wolf-whistling, bringing a light blush to your cheeks. Taking one final deep breath for confidence, you pull the remaining fabric off of you.

Holding the bra in one hand, now bare from the waist up, you bend over to pick back up the tape and smirk when you notice Eddie’s awestruck gaze locked onto your naked chest. Slipping the cassette into your bag hanging from the door handle, you move to redress yourself, but are abruptly stopped.

“Wait!” Eddie calls out frantically.

“A deals a deal,” you complain while rolling your eyes. “You had your show, feel lucky I actually took my top off instead of doing a quick little flash.”

“What do you want for me to touch them?” he asks, completely ignoring your previous statement.

This takes you completely by surprise. “Wh- what?” you stutter out.

He’d never initiated before, it was always you asking for a favor and him telling you what he wanted. On top of that, he always had a nonchalant air about him when he made these deals, like he couldn’t care less whether or not you let him bruise up your neck with his teeth. This eagerness wasn’t just rare, it was unheard of. And you feel a sense of pride when you wonder if this meant you had finally had the upper hand, at least for tonight.

“You heard me,” he responds, his eyes never leaving your body. He sticks out his tongue to wet his lips, and the action has you suddenly forgetting all about your want to be in control. “Whatever it is, name your price.”

“Um…” you start, thinking through all the possibilities. Truthfully, there wasn’t much more you wanted from your friend other than for him to mercilessly ravish you, but you couldn’t very well tell him that while remaining indifferent. So instead, you rake your brain trying to come up with anything that would seem like a semi-fair trade. “You have to be available to give me rides at any time for the rest of the week. And,” you interject, pointing your finger in his face directly between his eyes, “You have to let me play my music. Whatever I want, no complaining.”

“Mhm, for sure,” he mumbles, still distracted by your partial nudity. The fact he didn’t raise his brows and make a comment about how he’ll ‘give you a ride anytime you want, princess’ lets you know just how in deep he truly is. You suspect he would have agreed to anything.

“Ten minutes,” you add, as this was usually the point in which you two would work out the specifics of the deal. How long, what was off limits, that kind of thing.

“Thirty minutes,” he negotiates.

You’d let him feel you up for hours, if you were being honest with yourself. Imagining his calloused fingertips gliding against the soft supple flesh of your chest makes your thighs involuntarily squeeze together, but you refuse to let how desperate you are for him show. “Twenty,” you supply, and he seems pleased enough with this compromise.

He forgoes answering you aloud, and instead nods his head rapidly while raising his hands into the air and making grabby motions like a child. Stifling your laugh, you glance behind you to the wall clock and take note of the time.

“Okay, it’s 6:15 now,” you begin, “So when the big hand’s on the seven, your time is up.”

“Yup, uh huh, got it,” he says.

You hesitate for a moment until he gestures you over to himself, and you square your shoulders before taking a seat on his lap. Your skirt flares out as you perch yourself on top of him, and your legs are puzzle-pieced together with one of his thighs in between the both of yours. His hands tickle your side as they slowly trail up your waist, before settling just under the fat of your breasts. Holding your breath, you brace yourself for him to make his next move, and swallow a moan when his nails scratch up your skin, his fingers moving on either side of your nipples.

He massages your chest slowly, taking his time to savor the moment. After a while, his palms catch on your erect nipples, causing you to gasp, and his hands briefly lose contact so he can take them between his fingertips. He rubs the nubs between his thumb and index finger until you can no longer hold in any sounds and are a moaning mess.

“You like that, huh? You like me touching you like this?” he asks, though you can tell from his tone he doesn’t expect an answer. “God, you look good like this, tits out and sat on my lap. I can feel how warm you’re getting on my thigh, are you turned on baby?”

You ignore him. He already knows how wet he’s making you, so there’s no use in admitting it and making his head any bigger.

“Hey,” he whispers with a smirk, “For all the rules we like to come up with during our private time, we never actually said I could only touch you with my hands.”

Your eyes open and nearly bulge out of your head. “W- we didn’t?” The implications of his statement has your mind racing as your breathing stops in anticipation of his next moves.

“We didn’t,” he confirms, “and kissing is really just touching with your lips, wouldn’t you say?”

Taking your bottom lip between your teeth, you try your best to fake like you aren’t as affected as you are and feel his hands slip away from you as you shrug your shoulders stiffly. “I guess it is,” you mumble after swallowing down the saliva pooling in your mouth.

The gasp that escapes you when his pillowy lips first make contact with your perky nipple is impossible to resist. His masterful fingers stay massaging your left breast, while his mouth gives its full attention to your right. The gentle kitten licks he gives you just barely graze over the erect nub and you bite back a pathetic whine.

“E- Eds,” you breathe out with as much dignity as you can muster, “Don’t tease.”

“Aw, but you like it when I tease you,” he accuses, and you hate how much he’s right. “I can see it all over your face, I can see you squeezing your thighs together. Such a needy whore for me.”

You make a futile attempt to hide your embarrassment by covering your face, but Eddie is fast to pin your hands together behind your back, as if he knew what you were going to do before you did.

“Don’t hide yourself from me,” he orders, his voice full of dominance. “You look so beautiful right now, eyes all big, lips bitten. And fuck, such pretty tits,” he practically growls this last compliment. “I’m gonna mark ‘em up. You gonna let me, baby?”

His touch traveled back to your front after he pinned your hands behind your back, but you remained frozen. Your fingers found their way around your forearm and your nails dig into your skin as you gravelly moan out, “Yes.”

You yelp out as his teeth sink into your flesh. It wasn’t hard enough to break skin, but when he pulls off to give the same treatment on the opposite side you look down to see defined teeth marks on the top part of your breast, exactly where your cleavage would show in a low-cut shirt. You have a sneaking suspicion he did that on purpose. He bites you again, leaving a symmetrical mark, this time sucking the fat of your chest into his mouth a soothing over the sting with a lap of his tongue. Any pain you might have felt is overcome by pure lust, and although you know the bruises will be sore later you find yourself excited to feel that dull ache as a reminder.

“Fuck, princess, are you gonna cum?” he asks, his voice smug, “Go ahead, rub yourself on me, use me for what you need.”

Only when he says this do you realize you’re grinding on his thigh. Surprised by your own actions, you flinch back, and after looking down are humiliated to find that his pants have a dark patch of wetness where you sat. As you’re pushing away, scrambling to get off of him and apologize, he roughly grabs you by the waist and pulls you back to him, using his hold on you to rock you back and forth.

“And just where do you think you’re going? I didn’t say you could stop,” he laughs, “Times not up yet, babe.”

Glancing back up to the clock, you find the big hand hasn’t even reached the five, and you still have just over ten minutes to go.

“What’s wrong, afraid you won’t be able to hold it off? Afraid you’re gonna cum while riding my thigh like the good little slut you are?” he asks after you show your frustration by groaning. “Come on, I know you want it. Just let yourself have it.”

The worst part is that he’s right. But as much as you want nothing more than you finish while fucking yourself against thigh, you know he’ll be insufferable if you give in.

He starts to kiss up your collarbone. “Th- that’s not my chest! This definitely wasn’t a part of the deal!” you stutter out in protest, but he doesn’t let up even slightly.

You feel his lips stretch against the delicate skin of your neck as he smiles into you. “Funny,” whispers near your ear, “I don’t see you pulling away. You don’t want me to stop, do you princess?”

“No,” you answer truthfully without thinking, “But this wasn’t in the agreement!”

“Fuck the deal, fuck the agreement,” he curses out harshly, “You wanna cum, I know you do. You want to be my little slut. Let yourself feel good, princess.”

Any qualms you previously had about trying to hold onto any power had vanished without a trace. The only thing you could think of was how good it felt to grind your clit on his denim. Finally, you gave in and started humping his leg without restraint. You feel your climax rising in your belly, that tight coil ready to snap, when Eddie interrupts with a question you never expected to hear.

“What do you want for the panties you’re wearing?”

Your brain short circuits. “... Excuse me?”

“The underwear. That you have on right now,” he continues, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, “What do you want for them?”

Your hips pause in your confusion, but his grip on your waist forces you to keep moving against him, your clit rubbing on the rough fabric of his jeans so sinfully. “I- you- you want… what?” you stutter, trying to decipher if this moment is even really happening or is just a wet dream.

“I know you heard me, princess. I’m getting impatient,” he growls into the dip between your breasts before kissing back up your chest. “I’m going to make you cum, and I’m going to keep these panties. So what do you want for them?”

“Uh, I uh… um,” you search your brain but come up empty. “Fuck, Eds. Just make me cum and they’re yours.”

He chuckles softly into the crook of your neck and says, “My pleasure.”

He starts rocking with you, and you throw your head back as you feel his hard cock rutting against your own thigh. This only gives him better access to your throat, which he happily abused with his teeth and tongue.

“There you go, princess,” he murmurs to you. “So fucking pretty, getting yourself off on me. Sound so good. Show me how good girls cum.” As he’s talking, you get the sense that he’s speaking without really thinking, like this is just a stream of consciousness.

“Come on, baby” he pleads, “I need to see how pretty you are cumming on top of me. Don’t you wanna be good for me?”

“I do!” you call out, your movements growing frantic.

“I know you do. Keep rubbing that perfect little cunt on my leg. Get those panties nice and dirty for me. You wanna know what I’m gonna do with them?”

You’d like to tell him that you don’t want to know. That he can keep his twisted perversions to himself. But deep down, you want to know more than anything. “Wh- what are you going to do?”

“I’m gonna stuff them in my mouth while I jerk off,” he answers shamelessly. “Then, when I’m close, I’m gonna rub them on my dick til I cum right in the crotch. Then I’m gonna make you wear them when we’re around our friends, so you can feel the dry crust whenever you walk or shift, and you’ll know that you have a little bit of me right between your legs. Just like I know you so desperately crave.”

The picture he’s painting has you shuddering, and you feel your orgasm rushing toward you full speed. But, you still feel the need to act defiant. “And what if I don’t have any more ‘trade-off’s that I want to do? How are you gonna get me to wear them after you defile them?”

“Oh, you’re gonna do it,” he laughs again, this time more heartily, “Because you’re a fucking slut, and you want to be defiled by me.”

With this, he bites down where your neck meets your clavicle hard enough to bruise, and sucks sharply, clearly trying to leave a sizable and very much hard to conceal hickey. As you feel his wet, hot tongue flatten against your skin, you cry out in pleasure and spasm against him. Your orgasm is more intense than you would have guessed, given that he never actually made direct contact with your pussy. The waves of electricity rocket through you

With shaky legs, you brace yourself on his shoulders and stand up, your knees almost giving out when you try to put your full weight on them. He quickly reaches out for your waist to steady you and lend support, and you show your gratitude with a squeeze of your hand.

“You good?” he asks, and any trace of smugness you expected to hear in his voice is absent, substituted by pure adoration and care.

“Mhm,” you confirm with a hum, untrusting of your own voice to not break.

“You did so good. So good for me,” he says, so low you barely heard it. “You were so perfect. You are so perfect.”

And despite the fact that you didn’t think it’d be possible for more blood to flow to your face, you feel your cheeks warm with his compliments. With your hands still using his shoulders for balance, his hold on you loosens as they trail down past the hem of your skirt before traveling back up, lifting the garment until his fingertips meet the cotton of your panties.

“A deal’s a deal, right princess?” he asks, his voice unsure.

You nod and let go of him to take the bottom of your skirt, holding it up by your belly button. He hooks his fingers into the elastic of your underwear and starts to pull them down, but your arousal has the crotch clinging to your lips, and you turn your head in humiliation as you feel how he has to literally peel the fabric off of you. When you finally feel the cool air of the room on your hot center, you hear how Eddie breath gets stuck in his throat. He offers you support once more as you bend your knees and raise your leg, allowing him to slip his prize off of your body.

Now that they’re in his hands and you can see them fully, you realize just how much of a mess you made on him. The panties were completely soaked through, and the section of his pants around his thigh is stained darker with your wetness. However, his sizable hard-on making a tent in his jeans and straining against the zipper is enough to calm your worries.

He stands up next to you, and you side step to give him space. Your stomach flutters as you watch him lift the dirty panties to his face before inhaling deeply, and although this act is incredibly vulgar, you can't help the intense wave of arousal it brings to your already dripping cunt. You want nothing more than to just drop this game and be able to have him whenever you want, and even though you know he feels the same, your stubbornness is too severe. He tucks the dirty underwear into his back pocket and winks at you.

“Well,” he laughs, “I’m for sure looking forward to the next time you wanna borrow something, baby.”

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson smut #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you #stranger things fanfic #stranger things smut

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jaylver · 11 months

Text

4 TIMES JAY ALMOST PROPOSED + 1 TIME HE ACTUALLY DID

SYNOPSIS: Failed proposals and a determined mind challenges Park Jong Seong as he manages through tumbling ups and downs in order to successfully propose to the love of his life.

PAIRINGS: non-idol!jay x afab!reader

GENRE: established relationship au, romance, fluff

WARNING(S): profanities, snake (?)

WC: 2671

AUTHOR NOTES: hope y'all will enjoy this one! rushed it a bit so i'm sorry if there's anything lacking! please give some feedbacks, it'll be greatly appreciated <3

It has been almost six years since you and Jay have gotten together.

From being friends to going on casual dates to moving in together, you knew this was it. You were very sure Jay was the man for you. It was a no-brainer that Jay felt the same too. He always knew all along and you didn't need any reaffirming from him either.

Marriage was a topic you and Jay had discussed each year and the opinion seemed to have never changed, you two were fine with the idea of marriage and were open to it. It wasn't the matter of yes or no, it was when it would happen. As years passed, the thought of a serious future together was an unspoken confirmation between you two. It was also a theme frequently asked during family dinners or friend gatherings and you would just wave it off, though secretly wishing and looking forward to it actually happening.

What you didn't know was that Jay happened to be already one step ahead, like how he always was. Now, the problem was struggling to propose and not knowing when to do so. He's got the perfect ring, the best words he picked out to say, the faint idea of where he wanted to propose, but he just didn't know when. Could you believe that?

His three best friends were there to give him a pep talk, helping him plan the proposal and in the meantime, he made sure to go all the way to your parents to ask for their permission, to which they said ‘yes’ to almost immediately, absolutely elated and welcoming Jay to the family before he even officially popped the question, that was how much they loved Jay and no one could blame them for it.

With the help of your’s and Jay’s parents and his best friends, they planned a special private dinner by a restaurant on the beach you loved going to and having the proposal on the sandy beach with lighted candles. It was a simple idea but he knew you wouldn’t mind it from the countless proposal ideas you’ve once shared. Not to mention, it was the place where you and Jay shared your first kiss, making it much more memorable. He had a feeling this would be the perfect spot for a proposal.

Your boyfriend’s nervousness and anxiety were only getting gradually higher as the date got closer. He wondered how it managed to go such under the radar, playing it off as a normal Saturday date night and you were totally oblivious to it, gushing about returning back to the spot where you two shared your first kiss.

The small box which had your engagement ring inside was tucked into a compartment of Jay’s expensive suit, his hand occasionally flying to the spot and patting it to make sure it didn’t magically disappear. He swore he was going insane, and you noticing his jitters wasn’t making him feel better either.

Over dinner, you were there cracking jokes and laughing at the ridiculous puns he made, but all he could was focus on you, the crinkles of your eyes whenever you smiled, your smile, your laugh, the way your hair swept past your shoulders, lord he was whipped and he just needed to put a ring on your finger quick! Fast forwarding to after dinner where his anxiety reached its height and his foot tapped anxiously on the floor, he was waiting for the bill to arrive and it was a challenge to not burst out screaming.

“Here’s your bill, sir—” finally! “—it’s raining outside, would you like an umbrella?”

It’s WHAT?

“R–raining? O–outside, on the beach?” Jay croaked out, there was no way this was happening.

“Yes, sir,” the waiter nodded, slightly confused at Jay’s sudden surprise.

You tilted your head, peering over at your boyfriend with a questioning expression. “Is there something wrong? We could go to the beach another day, honey, we always do anyway,”

“Right,” Jay breathed out, nodding slowly and trying his best to not blow his own cover. “We’d like to borrow the umbrella please.” he said to the waiter, tucking the bill into the compartment inside his jacket, and with one last pat of the box tucked snuggly in another compartment, he let out a sigh and held onto your hand waiting for the umbrella.

Almost.

But almost was never enough.

ii.

Ironic it was that you and Jay happened to be at a wedding.

Upon hearing the failed proposal, everyone was disappointed but still remained resilient, racking their brains to think of a fresh idea. But now, you had wedding duties to attend to and your lovely boyfriend was dragged along. It was your friend’s wedding and you spent the day going around congratulating the pair, drinking here and there and dancing with Jay, basically having the time of your life.

“If weddings are usually this fun, I really want one too,” you sighed to Jay, leaning onto his shoulder.

If only you knew.

He hummed in response, wrapping an arm around your shoulder as you two watched the stars of the event have their first dance together. In Jay’s eyes, he was wishing it was you and him instead.

Towards the end of the wedding, the bride announced for a bouquet toss enthusiastically, and all the unmarried women in the room formed a cluster behind the bride as she got onto a short stool. You were among the bunch, joining in for the fun without taking it seriously. That was until the bouquet had shot into the air, flying towards you and your hand reached out in a natural instinct, catching it instantly.

You caught the bouquet. This meant that the catcher was getting married next. Were you? The ladies all cheered and clapped, but your eyes wandered off to Jay, where people around him gave him claps on the back or handshakes, his gaze landed on you as well, a big grin wide on his face. You broke into a smile, waving the bouquet excitedly.

Once the wedding had officially ended and you were walking hand-in-hand to the parking lot, swinging the bouquet in your other hand, your mind filled with some questions. “Do you think this is a sign?”

“What sign, darling?”

“You know how people say when you catch the bouquet you get married next?”

Jay had red alarms blaring in his head. “Really?”

“Yup,”

Jay wished he was able to get on one knee in this random parking lot at that moment, a place where it was empty and quiet, no one to bother you two, though severely unromantic but Jay’s patience was wearing thin. He knew it wouldn’t change anything between you two if he proposed now or later, but he wanted to call you his fiancee already.

“Y/N—”

Will you marry me?

“Hm?”

“I love you,”

You poked his side, raising an eyebrow at him. “Out of the blue?”

“Can’t I express my love for my girlfriend?”

“Of course you can, idiot, I love you too.”

Oh, how he longed for you to not be his girlfriend anymore but instead his fiancee.

iii.

A few weeks rolled by and Jay was feverishly looking for an empty slot at all your favourite restaurants. Thanks to it being Valentine's week, all of them had none. Zero.

Jay wanted to give in and propose to you right there and then, whenever you were in bed or even on the couch, he didn’t care. He knew you didn’t care much about a proposal’s fanciness, just hoping it wasn’t a public one, but he couldn’t help to go all out to make sure you liked it. That was the length Jay would go for you.

It wasn’t a surprise Jay was getting increasingly frustrated that the proposal was dragged later and later. But all he could in front of you was play it off as not getting seats for valentines.

“We don’t need to do anything big for valentines, Jay,” you reassured, rubbing his back softly. Of course you didn’t, he loved your simpleness.

“I know, my love,” Jay smiled at your efforts of calming him, you were the one who knew him best.

The romance movie you had playing in the background was showing a proposal scene, the female lead gasping in shock as the male lead got onto one knee, the typical thing. You laid your head on Jay’s shoulder, snuggling closer to his side with his arms around you, eyes trained on the screen, but your boyfriend’s head was swarmed with more internal screaming at the sight. Luck was needed on his head.

“This is so cute,” you referred to the scene, deep down wishing for the same.

“You think so?” Jay said quietly, rubbing the side of your arms.

“Very much so,”

“What if I proposed …one day,” he quickly added the last part, being as careful as he could.

“What do you think I’ll say to that?” you patted his jaw, seeing a small smile form on his face.

“I hope it’s a ‘yes’,”

“Of course it’ll be one, I’d be such a big idiot if I said otherwise,” you squeezed his cheek, a grin tugged on your lips. “But that’s never happening,”

“Yeah?”

‘Marry me?’ Was what rang through Jay’s mind endlessly and he wished he could run into the bedroom to grab the engagement ring hidden in his bedside table.

“Yeah. Obviously.”

He knew it was forever and always.

iv.

Jay had many stupid ideas in his life and this was one of them. He blamed that one TikTok video.

In that video, the man and his girlfriend went on a hike, his friend on an undercover mission at the top of the cliff filming the reaction. It was cute and the reactions had Jay almost in tears, which gave him the idea of planning a hike, one where a ring was involved.

Out of you two, Jay was the more adventurous and active person, constantly bringing you to hikes and runs, so this wasn’t your first rodeo and it definitely didn’t surprise you at all.

Jay knew he had this in the bag, with you oblivious and his plans turning out well, his stress was decreasing, thank heavens. Just like the video, Jay had Heeseung arriving at the top of the cliff minutes before you two did, hiding behind a bush with a camera already recording.

So, on a Sunday morning, you and Jay hiked up a usual track on the cliff that you were familiar with. There were little to none people, and you got to roam freely, talk and joke loudly as if it was only you and him in the world.

“I’m tired,” you complained, taking your final steps and reaching the top, thankful that you were able to rest and catch your breath for a while before having to head back down.

“The view is great,” Jay pointed towards the sky, and he was right. The clouds were painted in different shades of pink, orange and red, the sun was up and the morning sunlight provided warmth.

“It is,” you turned your back towards him, and that was when Jay realised it was time. He spotted Heeseung and gave him a thumbs up, he got the box from the back pocket, ready to get on one knee but—

“What the fuck?” Jay jumped, literally. His whole body basically jumped and backed away, there was a snake. A snake managed to ruin his proposal this time. First it was the rain, and now a snake? Was nature ever going to leave him alone?

“What?” you were obviously startled, rushing to your boyfriend’s side and huddled behind him.

“There was a snake,” his voice wavered, though it was now gone, there was no way he could just propose like everything was normal. The rush was gone and his confidence was poof, gone.

“What?” you shrieked, tugging onto Jay’s sleeve. “I think we should leave,”

“Yeah,” Jay, evidently shaken, could only nod and keep the ring back into his pocket. He made sure that Heeseung got the memo and left, a heart broken and an ego continually punched.

Another time’s the charm!

+i.

Despite the many unforgettable failed attempts of a proposal, Jay never backed down. This was going to be the last time, and it was going to be a successful one.

As per Jay’s promise to bring you back to the beach, you were now having a candlelit picnic by the shore under the night sky, some slow music playing distantly in the background. Everything reminded you of that night during the start of your relationship, and you found yourself reminiscing, amazed at how far you two had come.

“I can’t believe we’re here tonight,”

“Really?” Jay asked, you two had been here countlessly, the sudden sentiment had taken him off guard.

“This was where it all began, wasn’t it?” you gazed at him, love and affection in your eyes. “This place is special, I don’t know how to describe it,”

“I get it,” Jay assured, laughing a little.

“You always do,” you smiled, reaching over to squeeze his hand lightly. “Wanna dance?”

Jay couldn’t resist and nodded, slyly taking the box from under the picnic blanket and slipping it into his pants pocket. You were too busy switching the music to notice, and once you had your favourite song playing, you rushed towards your boyfriend, practically crashing into his arms.

“Hello, pretty lady,” he said softly, his arm around your waist and your hand on his shoulder, rocking side to side. “‘Can’t take my eyes off of you’ huh?”

“It’s one of our songs, I can’t help it,” you laid your head on his shoulder, biting back a chuckle.

This was peace. In the middle of a quiet beach, it was just you and him, bare and transparent, listening to him humming to the song, the cool night air engulfing you and him both. There was nothing you wished for more than this.

“You’re just too good to be true…” Jay sang along, and you removed your head from his shoulder, giggling as you locked eyes with him. “Can’t take my eyes off of … you,”

It happened too quickly. Jay had gotten onto one knee, his hand never left your hold. “Ever since I’ve met you, it really didn’t take me long to realise that you are the one for me,” one hand reached for the box in his pocket. “I want to spend the rest of my life with you, I want to stand by you no matter what,” he opened the box, the ring shone bright in the night and you gasped.

“Will you marry me, Y/N?”

Jay couldn’t believe he was uttering those words. You were in disbelief this was happening.

“Yes! Of fucking course, yes, yes, yes!” you caught his face with both hands, pressing a long kiss on his lips, feeling him smiling against yours. The moment you pulled away, he slipped the ring onto your finger and you were starting to tear up.

You were marrying your forever best friend. The love of your life.

“I love you,” you pressed another kiss on the corner of his lips, pulling him close.

“I love you more,” he kissed you on the lips in return, knowing you would rebut and say you loved him more instead. “You have no idea how happy I am,” he wiped the tears away from your cheeks.

“I’m the happiest woman too, I’m so lucky to have you,”

“Obviously,” Jay joked, and you scoffed, punching him softly. “Joking. I’m a lucky man too,”

“I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you.”

“You’re going to have to put up with me for life now, my love.”

Safe to say the wrongs finally turned right for Jay in the end. Married life was going to be new, but before that, wedding planning was about to take him out first.

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incognit0slut · 5 months

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Right Kind of Wrong (16)

She never thought she’d be involved in a murder investigation and encounter her one-night-stand again, the awkward guy who isn’t exactly that good in bed—Or is he? Offended by the sentiment, Spencer is determined to prove her wrong… But as he gets tangled with the beautiful stranger, he realizes there is more to her than what meets the eye.

Part Summary: Spencer is faced with a dangerous confrontation. wc: 3.4k

Series Warnings: 18+ explicit content, graphic details of murders, mentions of suicide, mentions of SA

A/n: this part went through so much editing until I was satisfied with it, also, can't believe this is ending soon!!

Other parts: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15

EVERYTHING FINALLY FELL INTO PLACE. Although it took longer than it normally did to solve a case, Spencer finally gathered every piece of information, every obscure clue, and every small detail he unfortunately missed before to make a clear profile.

Eric Adler—or Henry Wyatt as Garcia discovered through her meticulous sleuthing—was a master of disguise. He had concealed his identity under a different persona, changing his name the moment he packed his bags and left the town he grew up in. Oliver confirmed this discovery when Spencer visited the hospital the following day, once he had regained consciousness.

"Eric... he's a stranger to me," Oliver had said, his voice carrying a tinge of disbelief, a foreign look gleaming in his eyes. "Henry, on the other hand, was one of my closest friends."

"I'm assuming something happened for you to drift apart."

Oliver's gaze shifted. "We grew up in a very tight community. Religion was all we were taught," he began, his voice tinged with defiance and nostalgia. "I guess we became close from our rejection of those traditional values and practices."

Spencer acknowledged his words with a nod. "Your files showed there were a lot of crimes you committed in the past."

"I-I was very rebellious."

"I would say forcing yourself on a young, innocent girl was more than rebellious."

Oliver winced. "Listen, I'm not proud of my past," he confessed, his voice carrying a hint of regret. "But yes, my friends and I grew up doing things that were out of morals."

Spencer studied him. "What happened then?"

"A lot of pointing fingers," he admitted. "Our community leaders eventually found out and threatened us with severe punishment. From the outside, it was simply community service, but from the inside, it involved a lot of restraints and, well, whips."

Silence stretched between them. "It was how they punished the bad," Oliver explained further, his eyes searching Spencer's for comprehension. "They always say it whenever they were going to abuse us; 'The wicked will not go unpunished, but those who are righteous will go free.'"

"Proverbs 11:21," Spencer mumbled under his breath, recognizing the scriptural reference.

A hint of surprise flickered across Oliver's face. "Are you a religious person?"

He shook his head, implying a depth of knowledge that surpassed the boundaries of religious beliefs. "Was that what made you drift apart?"

"Partly, yes," Oliver answered with a sigh. "We didn't admit to it at first, but then under the pressure and the constant threat of punishment, I guess I became weak."

"Did you betray him?"

Oliver acknowledged the truth with a slow nod. "We were both punished, along with the others who were involved, but our leaders always wanted one name whom they could sacrifice, a name who held all responsibility. The initiator of all sins."

"So you put the blame on him," Spencer summarized, understanding the dynamics that had led to the fracture in their friendship.

"It was the only thing I thought of doing to save myself," he confessed. "He became a sacrifice. All the punishment turned onto him until he was cast out of the community. When his family didn't even try to interfere, he eventually left town. Never heard from him ever since."

"And then years later you saw him again."

His shoulders lifted in a nonchalant shrug.

"I didn't even recognize him at first. He had a different name, different hair, different style—he was practically a different person. When I realized who he actually was, I tried to confront him but he never acknowledged me." He then looked away, the emotion in his gaze concealed. "I just thought he didn't want to be associated with the past anymore."

It explained everything. The revelation about Eric's past and the harsh punishments he had to endure shed light on the motivations behind his actions. It explained why he felt compelled to punish people, as it was the only method deeply ingrained in his brain.

Their shared upbringing, the weight of betrayal, and the scars of their past had shaped his sense of justice, leading him down a dark path of vengeance. And with that new knowledge in mind, Spencer passed on the information he had discovered when he came to work the next day.

Everyone was gathered by the round table, an unusual thing to happen given that they were typically scattered in their assigned tasks, but all of them were present for once. Morgan leaned back in his chair, eyes narrowing in contemplation after Spencer finished his thoughts. "So let me get this straight, Eric's vendetta against Oliver is personal. Goes beyond just catching a killer then."

"It's a cycle of betrayal." JJ, standing by the door with crossed arms, agreed aloud. "He attempted to shift the blame onto Oliver, something he also went through in the past."

Spencer nodded as he started to pace around the room. "Psychologically speaking, his actions seem to be rooted in a need for retribution, a manifestation of the punitive measures ingrained in his upbringing."

"So we're dealing with a man who sees himself as a guardian angel dispensing justice, even if it means resorting to extreme measures."

"A guardian angel while simultaneously executing his revenge," Emily mused from the other side, her words laced with a blend of contemplation and concern. "Very personal indeed."

Hotch crossed his arms as he stood by the table, and scrutinized his team with his usual detached and professional expression, devoid of any visible emotions. "We need to understand his patterns," he began. "If we can predict his next move, we might be able to intercept him."

"He clearly has a deep affection towards Y/n." Morgan offered, prompting Spencer to halt his pacing and turn his attention toward him at the mention of her name. "He probably has a list of people who he thinks have hurt her in the past."

Rossi studied everyone in the room, attentively listening to their thoughts. He tapped his finger against the wooden table, directing his focus on Morgan. "We should find out who might be on that list. It could give us insight into his next move."

Hotch agreed with a curt nod. "Morgan, Rossi, work on compiling a list of individuals connected to Y/n. Garcia, cross-reference it with Eric's history. Let's see if we can predict his next move based on the people he might target."

Garcia instinctively rose from her chair and nodded. "Yes, sir," and waltzed out of the room with determined steps, making her way to her office.

The others shifted from their spots, while Morgan, unlike the rest, kept his gaze on Spencer. He observed the frown stretching across his face and pondered whether to voice what he had in mind. He hesitated, acknowledging that Spencer's involvement with their witness wasn't strictly his business. Yet, considering the recent events, he felt compelled to express his thoughts.

"I don't want to be that kind of person to bear bad news, but I think—I think—there's a high chance that pretty boy here could be a target," Morgan declared. Spencer quickly met his gaze.

Everyone else, momentarily suspended in a collective pause, turned their attention toward him. He could feel their penetrating gaze, which started to make him uncomfortable as the seconds ticked by. He didn't want to entertain that possibility, but it made sense. Considering Eric had been with her right after he had hurt her, he could very well be the next target.

JJ, breaking the silence, voiced what lingered in everyone's thoughts as she took a step closer to him. "We should keep you safe then. If you're a potential target, we can't afford to overlook any possibility."

Spencer glanced over at her, noting the concern in her eyes. He sensed a silent plea in the way she looked at him as if she were urging him to agree, to step back and act on what seemed to be the logical thing to do. However, despite that, the gears in his mind were turning. If he was a potential target, it could offer an easy opportunity to get closer to their Unsub.

"No," he said, a conviction in his voice. "You can use me as bait."

The room held its breath as his unexpected proposal hung in the air. The team, still processing the revelation of his potentially being a target, turned their focus to his daring suggestion.

JJ simply stared at him, dumbfounded by the audacity of the idea. "You're crazy."

"No, think about it." He turned towards Hotch, knowing the older man would at least consider his idea. "We can get to him by luring him in."

Hotch held his gaze. The weight of leadership rested on his shoulders as he considered the risky proposition. "Reid, it's too dangerous. We can't—"

"If Eric believes he has a score to settle with me, then let's use that to our advantage. We set up a controlled scenario, anticipate his moves, and ensure we have the upper hand."

Emily looked at him with worry, taking a step forward from the other side of the room. "Reid, it's too risky. We don't know how he'll react, we can't even guarantee your safety."

"Yes, you can. You'll keep an eye on me." His eyes traveled around the room, meeting each one of their concerned gaze. "It's not something we haven't done before; we've used this method to lure an Unsub, and right now, we have no clue where he is. The only way we can draw his attention is by using me."

Hotch's gaze shifted between Spencer and the rest of the team, weighing the potential outcomes of such a high-stakes plan. It was undeniably risky, but Spencer was right. This wouldn't be their first time baiting an Unsub, and given their past success, a part of him believed the outcome would work out according to plan.

After a moment, he slowly nodded. "Alright, but if we proceed with this, we have to ensure everyone's safety." He gave Spencer a pointed look. "Especially yours, Reid."

He quickly nodded as a moment of understanding passed between them. The room suddenly filled with noise, and amidst the bustling movements, he felt a desperate grip on his arm, pulling him away from the group.

"Spence." JJ's grip tightened as she voiced her concern. "You could be putting yourself in danger. What if this goes wrong?"

That was the thing. It was the nature of their job—there would always be different outcomes. There was no certainty about what could transpire. But with nothing else to do, Spencer was growing desperate for more answers, so he held her gaze, determination etched in his eyes.

"If it means stopping him and knowing her whereabouts, I'm willing to take any risk."

It was raining when it happened. It had been pouring for the past few days as they started to plan the operation. The team decided to elevate the stakes by choosing his apartment as the bait location, aiming to create a scenario that would be emotionally charged for Eric, potentially triggering a faster and more decisive response.

They studied Eric's patterns and behaviors, gathering insights into his actions and motivations. Garcia, constantly stationed at her desk, continued to monitor social media, public records, and any other available data to gauge Eric's movements. She had identified potential triggers that might prompt Eric to act, such as media coverage or public discussions related to Y/n.

In addition to electronic surveillance, Morgan and JJ conducted physical surveillance on locations connected to Y/n's past, anticipating that Eric might revisit places with emotional significance. They strategically placed themselves in key positions, ready to observe and intercept any suspicious activity.

And then the clock ticked away, the minutes stretched into an agonizing waiting game, every second pregnant with anticipation.

Until it finally came to that night.

Everything felt strange. His apartment. The weather. Himself. The rain outside continued its steady rhythm, and Spencer watched the raindrops hit his windowpanes from his couch.

Weeks ago, he sat in the same place where he was now. The only difference was that he was alone. There was no faint smell of chocolate or the sweet melody of laughter. She wasn't here, gracing him with her smile as she nestled on his lap. Her whispers of his name were absent, and the cruel thing was, he didn't even know where she was now.

He had never felt so much pain before, the ache of not knowing where someone was, all the while having to keep his head up high. It was a facade he learned to put on. Pretending that the hidden cameras strategically placed in his apartment didn't unsettle him, or the discreetly wired microphone, or the inconspicuous headpiece nestled in his ear. He had to act as though the looming potential danger didn't faze him.

But then it finally happened, a sudden shift in the atmosphere permeated the air—like the calm before the storm. And in an instant, Garcia's voice crackled over the communication devices, urgency lacing her words. "I've got movement. Eric's online activity just spiked."

Morgan and Prentiss, stationed discreetly around the apartment complex, receiving the signal, tightened their surveillance. The external cameras around his building captured a figure approaching, shrouded in the shadows of the rainy night.

Within the confines of his home, his senses heightened. The rain outside intensified. A streak of lighting flashed through the window. A loud sound of thunder echoed in the background. Spencer waited with bated breath, his gaze fixated on the front door. Then, with a creak, it slowly swung open, revealing a silhouette of a figure in the doorway.

Water dripped from his clothes, leaving a trail of wetness as he crossed the threshold. Their eyes briefly locked, and a smile played on Eric's lips as he observed the way Spencer scrutinized him, closing the door behind him.

"Dr. Reid," his sinister tone sliced through the silence, his words dripping with a twisted sense of satisfaction. "I see you've been waiting for me."

Spencer watched him, maintaining a composed exterior despite the tension in the air, and met his gaze with a steely resolve. "And I see you've been busy."

Eric cocked an eyebrow.

"Carving your path of justice one victim at a time."

His expression remained unyielding. Stepping further into the room, Eric left a trail of dirty shoe marks on the floor as his eyes observed the dimly lit apartment. "I'm just doing what needs to be done."

Spencer slowly rose from his seat. "And what is that?"

"Punishing those who have wronged her."

"You're not her savior. You're a vigilante with a distorted sense of righteousness."

"And that's where you're wrong. You don't know the pain she's been through. I'm the only one who can protect her."

Spencer silently watched as he continued to survey his apartment. Eric's eyes swept through all the framed certificates on his wall, his finger delicately tracing the edge of each frame. When he was met with silence, Eric turned back to him, narrowing the distance between them.

"You were always the one she trusted, weren't you?" He shook his head with disdain. "Yet you're the one who hurt her the most."

Aware that each word could either defuse or escalate the situation, Spencer continued to engage him. "I haven't hurt her," he responded carefully. "I've been trying to protect her from someone like you, someone who's lost sight of justice."

Eric let out a scoff. "You think I've lost sight? No, Dr. Reid, I've found clarity. I've seen the darkness that lurks in the hearts of those who pretend to be righteous."

"Your version of justice is a perversion. You've become the monster you claim to fight against."

The room crackled with tension as they held each other's gaze. "Do you even listen to yourself?" Eric retorted, his eyes narrowing with accusation. "You claim to protect her, yet she's left alone in the darkness you couldn't save her from."

The air in the room seemed to thicken as the weight of his words hung between them. His heart quickened its pace while he tried to maintain a calm facade. "Where is she?"

Eric's laughter cut through the air. "You think I'll tell you voluntarily?"

Spencer's gaze remained steady on him. "What do you want?"

The sinister grin on Eric's face revealed a gambit. "You." He took another step closer. "Come with me and I'll take you to her..."

There was definitely a but. It was never that easy, and the way he trailed off his words prompted Spencer to ask, "On what condition?"

He smiled, eyes narrowing as he conveyed a sense of menace while he delivered his proposition.

"Cut off all communication with your team."

Tension lingered around the room like an invisible web, each word contributing to the growing stakes. Eric's laughter, a haunting sound, followed the slightly alarmed look on Spencer's face.

"You think I didn't know?" he taunted. "Two of your agents are outside this building, and come on, you could've hidden that earpiece better than that." He pointed towards the device. "Your hair might be long, but it's not that long."

Eric then picked up a framed picture sitting on his shelf. It was a photo of him and his team casually smiling to the camera. He remembered that day, it was one of the many times they visited Rossi's house for dinner, and Garcia decided it was the perfect time to capture the moment. To preserve the happy times, she had said, and true to her words, he was happy that day.

His mind suddenly raced, considering the options and potential consequences of complying with his demand. He finally responded. "What if I refuse?"

"Then you'll never find her," Eric retorted, looking back at him. "It's a simple choice. Sacrifice your precious communication or lose her forever."

He wanted him to step into his trap willingly. It was a cruel choice, and it seemed he wasn't the only one who agreed. As Eric's demand hung in the air, the team's voices crackled urgently through his earpiece. Panic and concern infused their words as they frantically implored him to reconsider.

"Spence, step back!"

"Reid, don't do it."

"Stand down, Reid. We're coming through."

The chorus of concerned voices reverberated in his earpiece, each team member contributing to their worry. Despite the chaos of emotions echoing through the line, Spencer remained outwardly composed, his mind working swiftly to navigate the dangerous situation.

"Don't—" he urged, his gaze piercing on Eric while his voice pointed towards his team. "Stay where you are."

Eric watched him with a predatory gleam in his eyes.

"Seems like your team is in quite a frenzy there. Are you really willing to risk her safety for their voices in your ear?" He continued with a sinister grin, reveling the chaos he had stirred. "Strip away your lifeline, Spencer. The battle is between you and me."

Spencer stood there, calculating his next move. He weighed the possible outcomes of his choices and realized that nothing good would come from either of them. Eric, observing his contemplation, smirked with a twisted satisfaction.

"Come on, Dr. Reid, time is ticking." He tapped the watch around his wrist. "Make up your mind."

Spencer inhaled a sharp breath. Eric was right, there was no time to waste. The more he contemplated his answer, the more danger she was in. He needed her safe. He needed to see her. He needed to know where she was. And there was only one way to find out.

At the other end of the line, Garcia, stationed at her desk, watched Spencer through the screen with a growing sense of urgency. His gaze slowly swept over the room, and she could sense the critical decision looming. Her heart raced as his eyes fell on one of the hidden cameras.

"He's onto us," she muttered to herself, her fingers flying over the keyboard. She tried to maintain the connection as he walked over to the device and unplugged it.

Garcia cursed under her breath. "No—" She pressed on her intercom, her voice tinged with frustration. "I'm losing him."

One by one, the video feeds from the hidden cameras in his apartment turned black. The loss of visual contact with each camera felt like a punch to the gut. Her frustration mounted as the screens blinked out, leaving her staring at a grid of darkness.

"No, no, no," she muttered, fingers dancing over the keyboard in a desperate attempt to reestablish connection. But there was nothing else she could do.

The earpieces crackled with an ominous quiet before a sudden crash echoed through, the sharp sound of impact reverberating. A groan. A thud. A grunt. The team exchanged alarmed glances in their respective locations as the audio crackled with static, and their heart raced at the uncertainty hanging in the air.

Then, abruptly, there was nothing else but silence.

>> NEXT PART

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