#he just talks at you for upwards of like 20 minutes

[reallydumbdannyphantomaus]

i work with. the most insufferable man.

[dollfacefantasy]

Room for One More

pairing: leon kennedy x fem!reader x chris redfield

summary: months ago, chris let his apprentice slip through his fingers when she transferred to the d.s.o. to work with leon kennedy. now the three of them have been sent on a mission together and are forced to share a hotel room.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, threesome, p in v, oral sex (f and m recieving), face-sitting, exhibitionism, age gap (early 20s, late 30s), jealousy, light angst

word count: 9.2k

a/n: had this in my drafts since february let's go. hope you guys like it <3

You and Leon were so fucking annoying.

Irritating, aggravating, infuriating pains in his ass. That’s all Chris could think while speeding down the road, his knuckles white from their tight grip on the steering wheel. The three of you were all supposed to be professionals for god’s sake. He shouldn’t have to deal with the two of you acting no better than a couple of horny teenagers during a fucking mission.

It was constant. The giggling and gasping, soft whines of “Leon stoppppp.” And he could hear Leon’s stupid fucking smirk when he chuckled and kept doing whatever was causing you to squirm around with him in the back seat. If he had to sit through much more of this, he was pretty sure he’d end up plowing the car into a nearby tree and putting himself out of his misery.

Chris glanced in the rearview mirror. Darkness engulfed the car right now, making it hard to clearly see what his ‘partners’ were up to. All he could really make out was that Leon’s head had been in the crook of your neck but was now tilted upwards to capture you in a kiss. The only thing keeping him sane was the miniscule light in the distance. The small reminder that he wouldn’t be stuck in the car with the sounds of saliva swapping forever. He lets out a deep sigh and shakes his head, trying to will himself to just tune the aggravation out. But as the minutes pass by, each wet smack of lips grates on his nerves more and more.

“Can you two cut it out back there? I’m trying to focus,” he says. His harsh stare remains on the road ahead.

He hears your bodies briefly untangling as his words pierce the bubble you had created for yourselves. Leon is the first to respond.

“Our mistake, Redfield. Didn’t know it was such a challenge to go twenty-five miles an hour on an empty road,” he remarks. Again, Chris’s blood boils as he senses that self-satisfied expression taking over the other man’s features.

Your light slap to Leon’s bicep sounds through the car’s interior. “Sorry, Chris. We’ll keep it down,” you apologize.

In contrast to your boyfriend, your tone rings genuine. You sounded almost a little embarrassed by Chris calling out your antics. Your soft voice drifting to his ears actually softens him a tad. He knew the expression you wore now too. How your eyes were fixed on the DSO agent, giving him the glare you used when you wanted to seem firm. In reality, it came off as cute, like an angry kitten. And now Leon got to be the one to grin at you and shake his head, amused by your sweet face. He got to be in the position Chris let slip through his fingers months ago.

***

You’d been his first. Started out at the BSAA as his rookie. Your first day you’d been so bright-eyed, hopeful and ready to start out your career and face the world. He’d been reluctant to take on a trainee at first. It’s a lot of work with a 50/50 shot at reward, but the second he laid eyes on you, he knew the luck of the draw had worked in his favor.

You were the ideal apprentice. A great listener, eager to learn everything you could, and accepting of commands. Every day with you was a breeze. And besides the parts of you suited for your job, you were just generally pleasant to be around. He could joke with you, talk to you about damn near any subject. You were a great partner in the field too. At first, he’d been worried. A cute little thing like you taking on bioterrorists? He struggled to believe that would work out. As soon as he saw you in action though, you left no doubt that he’d been wrong. He became more taken with you upon seeing you act so capable. He realized that he felt a connection with you that he’d been lacking for so much of his life.

Unfortunately for him, he had these pesky things called ‘morals’ that prevented him from pursuing you. Every time he legitimately considered flirting or asking you out, the guilt gnawed at him, filling his mind with words of shame rather than anything that could charm you. No matter how he thought about it, he just couldn’t work out any way it would be right. Not only were you his subordinate, his rookie, you were nearly twenty years his junior too. You shouldn’t be wasting the prime of your life with some old man, so he cut off any hope of being more than a mentor to you.

About a year after he’d taken you on, the two of you were sent on that mission in Texas. It was simple, standard, routine. You and Chris were simply there to assist local police with the aftermath of a bioterror attack. Both of you were in the transport vehicle on the way to the site, and this was a rare occasion where he was pretty calm. He wasn’t tense or anxious, didn’t have any other motive than getting in and getting out. He was just enjoying the ride and watching your pretty face soak up the sunlight beaming through the window.

What he hadn’t been briefed on was the DSO’s involvement in the case. More specifically, a certain DSO agent’s presence. Apparently he’d been in the area on unrelated business and had been ordered to stop by in case your team needed assistance.

The two of you got out of the car and wandered through the remnants of the event. At first, Chris was happy to see him. It’d been a while, and he seemed to be in a better place than the last time they’d met. You seemed happy to see him too despite the fact that you’d never met before. Right then, Chris should’ve known it was over.

“Who’s that?” you asked with more interest than he felt was appropriate, leaning closer his muscular frame to keep your tone hushed.

He glanced down at you and raised his eyebrows, initially amused with the way you almost seemed in awe.

“Leon Kennedy. He’s with the DSO. Probably just here for some backup,” he informed you.

You nodded, and as you padded along behind Chris, your eyes remained locked on the agent in front of you. If he hadn’t been wrapped around your finger, it would have been obvious to him that you were developing a little crush. You became so bashful around Leon. Smiling up at him, batting your eyelashes like a cartoon character, following him around the scene like a puppy.

At the time, Chris thought that you were simply intrigued by the prestige of the DSO. Looking back, he couldn’t believe how clueless he’d been.

It was only six weeks later that you came to his office to notify him you were transferring agencies.

“What do you mean transferring? I’ve been training you to work here. I need you here,” Chris said.

Your eyes had cast down. Your body appeared to shrink in on itself. “I know. The BSAA is important and all, and I’ll always be grateful for what I learned here. It’s just that Leon said…”

And those last two words were all Chris heard.

“Leon said? What’s he know? He met you one time. He’s gonna try and tell you that you’re a better fit for the DSO?” he asked, probably coming off more interrogating than concerned, “You’re perfect for what we do here. The Agency hasn’t had someone with your propensity for research and field work in years.”

All his reasons paled in comparison to the hearts you had in your eyes for Leon. Chris ended the day by signing off on your transfer and watching you pack up your desk. You gave him a hug and tearful words of goodbye before walking out the translucent doors of the BSAA building.

The next time he saw you was another two months after that. He had to bring some files over to the DSO building. The only thing he was looking forward to about it was seeing how his rookie was adapting to her new position. He wasn’t prepared for the sharp pain in his chest when he saw your new position was on Leon’s lap.

Your eyes had gone wide. You shot up off the other man’s thighs to try and act as if you two were merely two agents and nothing more. Chris wasn’t fooled, but he kept his composure even in the face of Leon’s obvious amusement. He had no real place to get mad at you. It’s not like you were throwing your career away; you still held a respectable position at a federal government agency. You hadn’t betrayed him either. The relationship between you and him had actually just been professional. He had no claim on you that could keep Leon away. The only thing Chris had to be angry about was the fact that you were going to spend the prime of your life with some guy over a decade older than you. It just wasn’t gonna be him.

***

The collection of lights down the road were getting closer now. You and Leon had settled down enough to make the last fifteen minutes of this trip bearable. Chris glances around the small, misty town the road was leading into. It was pretty desolate and old-fashioned. Everything was tinted orange from the dated street lamps lining the road. Buildings were mostly bricks except for the upcoming motel which looked primarily wooden. It would’ve been eerie if he wasn’t so exhausted.

He pulled into the parking lot of the place and stopped the car. Turning around in his seat to talk to you and Leon, he tries not to roll his eyes at how the younger man has you tucked to his side while you show him something on your phone.

Chris clears his throat. Leon’s eyes meet his, still smug from the earlier exchange. He can’t be mad though because you look up at him in earnest, ready to do what needs to be done.

“The target isn’t going to be passing through until tomorrow. How would the two of you feel about staying here for the night?” he asks.

Fortunately, you and Leon seem to want to rest for a while just as much as he does so there’s no pushback.

Chris steps out of the car into the brisk air. He heads across the way into the small lobby of the motel to grab a room. You and your boyfriend handle getting the small bags you were allowed to take on missions out of the car.

“Cold out here, baby,” Leon mumbles as he pulls you flush against his chest and plants some kisses down your neck.

“Mhm. And you’re making me shiver more,” you say as you still try to collect the bags.

He chuckles at your little joke and nips at the warm flesh of your throat. “Once we get in the room, I think I’ll be able to heat you up,” he says.

You giggle and squirm a bit in his hold as Chris comes back to the car. He’s stone faced, but for once on this trip, it isn’t due to you and Leon.

“They only have one room available,” he says flatly and holds up the small golden key.

Your face drops and Leon lets go of you.

“What do you mean they only have one room?” he asks, “Look at this place. It doesn’t even look like anyone’s even accidentally wandered through here in this century. How could they only have one room?”

“They said the others are closed for renovation,” Chris relays.

“Renovation for what? For the ghosts of people who stayed here the last time this place was actually full?” Leon continues.

“I don’t know, man. You wanna go in there and argue with the lady at the desk? She’s half deaf and in a great mood, I’m sure she’ll be open to hearing your concerns,” the older man says sarcastically, beginning to grow frustrated.

Their bickering continues as you glance around at your surroundings. It was cold, it was dark, and it really was starting to creep you out how empty this place was.

You carefully take Leon’s hand and give it a little tug.

“I’m really tired. Can we just deal with it for the night?” you ask him hopefully.

He looks over at you, the petty complaints seeping from his body when he hears your soft voice requesting something so simple.

He sighs and nods. “Yeah, sweetheart,” he says and kisses your forehead.

Chris is grateful for your intervention and scoops up the bags so you aren’t bothered with them. The three of you walk in line to your room.

The door creaks as your ex-mentor pushes it open. It’s pitch black inside until Leon reaches over and taps the light switch. Your eyes scan the small room. It wasn’t a horrible set up. The furniture was a little vintage to put it nicely, but it didn’t feel haunted. Two double beds sat against one wall while a ratty leather chair occupied the opposite corner. Besides that there was a dresser, an old tv that was shaped like a cube, and a small counter with a microwave and mini-fridge. Leon looks around with the same disinterest displayed on your face.

“Hey, at least there isn’t only one bed,” he jokes and slaps Chris’s shoulder.

The older man rolls his eyes and tosses his duffel onto the mattress closest to the door. You and your boyfriend follow suit. You tuck your bag neatly against the side of the dresser while he drops it on the floor next to the farther bed.

“I’m gonna take a shower,” Chris tells the both of you as he fishes some fresh clothes and toiletries out of his bag.

He gets two unconcerned nods in response, and that’s enough for him to head to the bathroom. As he’s shutting the door, he can already hear your giggling starting up again along with the creak of the mattress, presumably from Leon pulling you down onto it.

Turning on the water, he sighs deeply. The faucet was as old as everything else in the room. It whooshed and groaned before starting up and letting out some water. The stream was hot and even, so he guessed he couldn't complain too much. He sheds his clothes and steps in the shower that was too small for him. The confined area didn’t act as much as a reprieve for him. His head is about three or four inches too tall for where the showerhead was angled. The slick curtain clings to the part of his bicep that stuck out against it.

It felt like a physical manifestation of how the next twelve hours would feel.

Being in the room next to you and Leon would’ve been bad enough. He’d have to hear you two going at it for hours like there was no tomorrow, but at least he’d be alone. He wouldn’t have to repress his grimaces or hide his wistful exhales. No one would have to know how shameful he looked when he felt himself getting hard over the way you whined and mewled for the other agent.

Now you two wouldn’t be going at it, but he’d have to be in the room clouded by both of your desires to do it. He’d have to watch the lingering looks and hear the little hitches in your breaths. He’d see whatever cute little pajamas wore and the way you curled up to Leon beneath the covers. He’d witness how peaceful your face looked while you slept in another man’s arms.

He’d honestly just prefer to be forced to listen to the sounds of your headboard banging against the wall all night.

But he pushes those thoughts away to finish up washing himself. His large hands guide the shampoo out of his hair and glide the washcloth over his muscular form. The steam starting to rise helps to calm him a little.

He isn’t in there for much longer before he shuts the water off and steps out of the shower to dry off. He wraps a towel around his waist, letting the cloth hang on hips just below his happy trail and v-line. His reflection gazes back at him through the fog on the mirror as he rubs a towel over his head and dries his hair.

In an effort to be considerate, he dresses in the bathroom. Gray sweats cover his lower half while a loose t-shirt adorns his chest. He makes sure everything in the bathroom is back in place before heading back out there, hopefully to just get some sleep and not be bothered by his temporary roommates.

That isn’t meant to be though. As soon as he steps back into the main portion of the room, he’s greeted by the sight of Leon’s hand down your shorts and your lips locked together in a flurry of kisses. He’s frozen in place for a moment, watching how Leon’s knuckles move underneath the fabric between your legs. Though a moment later, he remembers how he should be reacting.

“Come the fuck on,” he says and brings his hand to his face in frustration.

Your eyes widen, and your head snaps up. Leon lazily glances in his direction. Chris looks back at the pair of you, thinking you’d had enough time to readjust. What really enrages him now is that Leon’s hand was still where it was. You have to grab his wrist and pull it away.

“I’m so sorry, Chris,” you apologize without another thought, “We got distracted and didn’t hear the water shut off. I’m so-��

He doesn’t even look at you though. He’s locked in a stare with the other man in the room.

“Grow the fuck up, Leon,” he says, his tone deadly serious, “I’ve had enough of this shit. You’re acting like a fucking high schooler. Like a dog with a bone.”

You go silent and look down with guilt. He would’ve felt bad if he wasn’t so fed up. To make matters worse, Leon merely rolls his eyes.

“Jesus, calm down,” he says, “You’re acting like you just walked in on a porno or something. You’ve never seen two people making out?”

“Leon, shut up,” you say, keeping your voice hushed as if Chris couldn’t hear you from a small distance of ten feet. Your boyfriend doesn’t even acknowledge you though.

“That’s not what it’s about, and you know that. I don’t give a shit if the two of you want to make out till your lips are blue. Do it on your own time. I don’t wanna have to deal with the two of you slobbering all over each other while I’m trying to do my job,” he says with a glare.

“That’s not what this is about either, and you know it,” the younger man retorts.

“Leon, just give it up!” you plead. He shoots you a look though that makes you react like a scolded puppy.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Chris asks incredulously as he crosses his arms.

Your boyfriend almost laughs in his face. He sits up, looking at him with a more pointed gaze. “You don’t care about what I’m doing. You’re pissed off because I’m doing it with her,” he taunts.

Somehow the look on Chris’s face darkens further.

“Alright, man. I’m sure that’s what it is. It’s not you just being an insecure dickhead like always,” he says, trying to sound dismissive as he walks to his own bed, “You're more immature than I thought.”

“Don’t try to act like it’s bullshit because I know it’s the truth. All the years I’ve known you, all the missions we’ve partnered on; this isn’t the first time you’ve seen me with a girl but you’ve never pitched a fit about it before,” Leon says.

Chris shakes his head, not dignifying the accusations with a response, but he won’t give it up.

“Also, you think I’m fucking stupid? You think I don’t see the way you’re looking at her? Undressing her with your eyes, laser focused every time she bends over? I think if she gave you the go ahead, you wouldn’t even hesitate to steal her away from me,” he says.

You notice as they argue that in contrast to the genuine aggravation on Chris’s face, Leon’s words come from somewhere else. Almost as if he’s enjoying calling him a liar, poking and prodding at the other man to provoke a reaction.

Chris looks directly at him now as if he’s ready to lunge in a moment’s notice.

“Shut your mouth. You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says.

“Tell me then. Tell me how it is.”

That makes the older man pause. Of course Leon was right, but under no circumstances would he make that apparent.

“She had a bright future ahead of her, and look what you’ve done. She’s the best either one of the agencies has had in years, and you keep her in the palm of your hand like she’s a barbie doll!” he exclaims.

He sees the flicker of hurt on your face and knows he fucked up, but he could apologize later. He continues speaking to try and temporarily rectify his slip up.

“She’s too good for you, Leon,” he says simply, sighing and sitting down on his bed.

You see genuine emotion flash in your boyfriend's eyes. Chris struck a chord, picking at a very real insecurity Leon held. But he wanted to win this confrontation too, so he wouldn’t let that be known. Instead, he beckons you to him with a languid wave of his hand.

“C’mere, baby.”

Chris rolls his eyes, thinking Leon was gonna swoop in to comfort you for the way your feelings had been hurt. You waddle across the mattress on your knees and plop down between his legs, your back against his chest. His hands sweep over your stomach, soothingly caressing your skin.

“She might be too good for me, but you’re pissed off because she’s too good for you too,” he says.

“Leon, stop,” you whisper. Tomorrow was going to be awkward enough as is. He didn’t need to make it any worse.

Chris glances up at the two of you but looks down again quickly, not wanting to see the way the other man’s hands moved on your body.

“You think I’m the bad guy. That I’m corrupting your innocent little rookie,” Leon mocks, “But tell me you wouldn’t take my place if you could.”

“I wouldn’t,” he mumbles instantaneously.

“Look me in the eyes and tell me. Tell me that if she was actually interested in you, that you wouldn’t have taken her in your arms as fast as you could. When she was prancing around the BSAA, looking up at you with stars in her eyes, tell me you didn’t want her,” your boyfriend challenges.

Chris looks up at the both of you. His expression is hard to read. It’s some mixture of hurt and relief that you’re unfamiliar with.

“I didn’t,” he maintains.

Leon’s hand continues trailing on your tummy up and down. His fingers coast in between your breasts, causing you to shiver, but everyone’s so wrapped up in the conflict that you choose not to say anything.

“That’s a shame because I’m pretty sure your little rookie had a crush on you,” he says quietly.

“Don’t joke around like that Leon,” Chris scoffs at the same time as your eyes widen and you start to tell your boyfriend to be quiet.

“Shh shh shh,” he hushes you and places a small kiss on your temple, “You’re giving yourself away, sweetheart.”

You look down and the man across from you just looks confused. Leon smirks at the both of you before resuming.

“C’mon man. Don’t tell me you couldn’t see it. She’s a terrible liar, and I think she had it pretty bad for you. I just came along and pulled her attention elsewhere,” he says, teasing you while redirecting his words to Chris.

Your face was heating up fast as Leon aired out a confession you’d made to him on a night after too many drinks. Chris slowly returned his gaze back to the two of you. Instead of bothering with Leon, he looked into your eyes this time.

“Is that true?” he asks.

Every limb on your body feels frozen up, but you manage to force your head into nodding. You hear Leon chuckle from behind you, which only intensifies how awkward you feel.

“I liked you at first when I first started working at the BSAA. For the first few months,” you begin to explain. It’s not like anything you said would help the situation at all, but it still felt like you were supposed to offer something.

He continues staring at you, and you honestly can’t tell what’s running through his mind. All you can think is that he looks like he’s in pain. Meanwhile, your boyfriend’s hands caress over your skin in a pattern they’d developed.

“You were just so nice and understanding with me-” you start. But you’re cut off by your sharp gasp when Leon’s hand slides under the waistband of your bottoms and into your panties.

“Leon!” you whimper as fast as his fingers find your clit. You grab his wrist and try to pull it away like you’d done earlier, but when he didn’t want to be interrupted, he wouldn’t be. It wasn’t like you tried too hard anyways. You were still a little pent up from earlier, craving the pleasure that had been cut short.

“No, go on, sweetheart. Keep telling Chris how much you liked him. I know he wants to hear it,” he says lowly while his fingers toy with you.

“Leon,” Chris says firmly, trying to stand up for you. But fuck, if he didn’t want to keep watching your breath hitch and your hips squirm. Or your face getting pouty whenever his fingers stroked a certain way.

“Chris,” he says back, “Don’t act like you don’t wanna see. This might be your only chance.”

He smirks and kisses your temple again, rotating the pad of his middle finger over your clit. The motions draw little whines from you, and your eyes flutter. You keep them on Chris, looking into his own as you sink back into Leon’s chest.

“Go ahead, honey. Continue your story,” Leon prompts.

“You were so sweet- mm- and you taught me a lot and- ah- I don’t know it was just a little crush,” you say timidly.

Chris watches you. He doesn’t move at all for fear of bringing attention to how fast his cock has hardened.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he breathes.

“Cause you were my boss,” you say, “I- Leon fuck- I didn’t wanna put you in a bad position.”

His chest feels like it’s turned to stone as he takes in these revelations. It’s hard not to let the regret take over. The realization that he’d been much closer to everything he’d wanted threatened to consume him if he dwelled on it. That on top of the fact that he was hearing all this while you whimpered another man’s name between your words had his mind scrambled.

“It wouldn’t have put me in a bad position, sweetheart,” he says, attempting to sound normal about the situation.

Your lips curve further down, as if you feel guilty for the mess of emotions building inside him. Behind you, Leon’s mouth makes the opposite expression.

“What happened to not wanting her, Redfield?” he teases.

“Shut up,” Chris says. Even if he wasn’t the one pleasuring you, this was a moment for you and him.

His eyes are locked on you, trying to drink in everything about the vision of beauty in front of him. Leon’s warning that this could be the only time he gets to see it echoes in his mind. He doesn’t know how he’ll survive if this is the only time. He doesn’t think he could ever get enough of this. The way your lashes flutter and your eyes look dreamy. How your soft thighs tremble while spread open. The little movements of your hips rocking your ass back and forth against the man behind you.

Why couldn’t that man be him?

It was the most blissful form of torture he’d experienced. He tried to tell himself that even if he just got to watch you cum, it’d be worth it. It’d be better to share this unforgettable sliver of time with you than to have nothing special at all.

He tries to refocus himself back on enjoying the view of your shorts sliding off your legs rather than mourn the relationship he’d lost out on. It was just nearly impossible to avoid envisioning himself and the other man swapped. He had imagined you in his lap like that for months before you even knew the name Leon Kennedy.

Chris’s mind is actually drawn back to the action in front of him once Leon’s got your shorts off, and your panties are fully exposed. The crotch is soaked through. He can see the way the fabric sticks to your center, only peeling away to make space for the nimble fingers working beneath it.

“Leon…” you mewl and tilt your head back against his shoulder.

“I know, princess,” he murmurs, “You’re doing such a good job showing off for Chris. I’m proud of you. You’re really making it worth his while.”

“Thank you,” you whimper.

Leon grins at your display of submission and rewards you with a gentle pinch to your clit. You yelp, and Chris’s cock jerks inside his pants. His bulge is completely visible to everyone in the room by now, no way of sitting could hide that. Despite his arousal, he still had questions.

“Am I the reason you left?” he decides to ask you.

He watches you snap out of the throes of lust and look at him. You hesitate before answering.

“No,” you say softly, “I left to be with Leon.”

It feels like a dagger straight to his heart. He watches any chance of salvaging you as his own die before his very eyes, those words acting as the nails in the coffin. It shows on his face too because he can see the guilt replacing the desire in your eyes. Even Leon’s face flashes with some sympathy. He tilts his head towards you again and nips at the shell of your ear.

“I think you might have hurt Chris’s feelings, baby,” he chides lovingly. His hand then leaves your panties and goes with his other one to your waist. Boosting you to your feet, he looks up at you and taps your ass. “Maybe you should help him feel better. Show him some of what I taught you.”

There’s only a brief pause on your part. You stand between the two beds, between the two men, looking back and forth. You weren’t against the idea at all, it just didn’t seem real. You never imagined this happening in your wildest dreams.

You drop to your knees and approach Chris from the ground, positioning yourself between his legs and looking up at him.

“You don’t have to,” he says, his tone quiet and genuine.

You reach up, sliding your hand up his thigh to palm at his bulge.

“I know,” you respond.

In the simplest of terms, you were still very much attracted to Chris. Your relationship with Leon had extinguished the torch you carried for him down to a small flame, but on a physical and instinctual level, you still wanted him bad. Especially having not cum yet after being teased twice. Your fingers unzip his pants and begin pulling them down, eager to get his cock out.

In a way, you were pretty sure you loved him. Not in the way you love Leon. You knew that. You didn’t dream of love and marriage and the baby carriage with Chris. But for so long, he’d been your safe space. Amongst the violence and horrors in the world of Bioterrorism, your mentor had always been there for you to hold your hand.

You yank his pants down to his ankles, and his dick flops out against his thigh. Your eyes widen slightly. It made sense for it to be big just like everything else on him was, but the sight had you drooling. It was thick and long, from one look you could only imagine how it would stretch you out.

Your fingers wrap around the length, feeling its warmth. The veins that sprawl across it pulse with desire for you. He moans quietly with only one stroke. Your hand pumps up and down tentatively as you spit down onto it for some lubrication.

No one in the room is in the mood to be teased tonight, so you lean in and flick your tongue against the tip. Another groan bubbles from Chris’s lips and you can feel Leon’s lecherous gaze on you the entire time. You lap at the head some more and keep working your fist up and down.

You’re either very talented or Chris is very needy for you, because it only takes a handful of gentle licks before precum beads at the top. His eyes are blown out and locked on you as you suckle the swollen tip between your lips and bob your head. Your mouth is the perfect combination of warm and wet and soft. You cup his balls and give them a gentle massage while working your magic.

He reaches down and pets your head as you work. His head snaps up when he hears the other man speak to him.

“How’s it feel? As good as you imagined?” he asks.

“Better,” Chris moans.

His breaths enter and exit his lungs in deep puffs. This truly was better than he could’ve imagined. Everything about you was beyond the capabilities of human imagination. Your gags were so soft and tender. They were precious despite their inherent lewd nature. You looked up at him with glossy eyes, maintaining eye contact most of the time. That was something he’d taught you. Your first days of work you were always looking down at your shoes or right through him at the wall. He’d been the one to tell you eye contact was important. It was the most baseline form of connection.

You take your mouth off Chris’s shaft with a small pop. A string of saliva dangles between you and his cock, but you quickly destroy it when your lips smoosh against the flushed skin. You kiss the tip over and over, savoring the taste of precum it brings.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, not caring if he heard or not.

But he does, and his gaze softens. “You don’t have anything to be sorry for, rookie,” he says back.

Leon decides not to interrupt the exchange or tease Chris about the old nickname for you. He had no genuine ill will toward the other man. That plus his own cock was rising to attention, and he was more interested in palming it through his jeans.

“You're such a good girl. You don’t need to apologize for anything,” Chris continues to coo at you as you take his length back into your mouth.

His eyes crinkle as they shut. He doesn’t want to cum yet just in case there was the chance for anything more. You’re too taken with servicing him to notice that you should maybe slow down. Lucky for the both of you, Leon intervenes.

“Ah ah, baby. Don’t take Chris out of the fun too quick,” he tuts, reaching forward to guide your head back.

You pull off obediently and lean back onto your knees. Chris sighs at the reprieve but nearly blows his load when his eyes refocus on you gazing up at him with spit and precum on your lips.

“I think Chris needs a break, angel. You know how good that mouth of yours is,” he says and pets your head before looking up to the older man, “You want a little taste of her while you cool off?”

It’s like time slows to a halt in the world of Chris Redfield. The heavens part and the words he just heard are the gateway to paradise. He stares at Leon, almost in the same disbelief you had been in minutes ago.

“You’re cool with that?” he says, trying to seem casual.

“I wouldn’t have offered if I wasn’t,” he says and shrugs, “Plus, I think your rookie deserves a treat for her performance.”

“Of course she does. She’s probably feeling pretty needy by now too,” Chris says in return, beginning to feel more comfortable with the situation at hand.

“I’ll even let you pick, man. You want her spread out on the bed or riding your face?” he asks.

You look between the both of them as they speak before stopping on Chris as he makes the decision.

“Riding my face. Want her to smother me,” the older man says as he looks down at you with his familiar smile.

Leon glances down at you too. “You heard him, baby,” he says.

You return to your feet and approach the bed closer to the window. Chris discards his pants completely and removes his shirt before lying back. He pats his chest, signaling for you to climb up. As you move closer, so does your boyfriend. He rounds the bed and sits on the other side of the mattress to watch the pair of you.

You crawl over Chris’s muscular body, looking down at him for a moment when your faces are level. You then scoot up more so you’re basically sitting on his chest. You weren’t shy about sitting on someone’s face necessarily. You’d done it for Leon about a dozen times before, but Chris was new and you didn’t know how he liked to do it. From the way he guided your hips higher up though, you could already tell he was a little more gentle than your boyfriend.

He pulls you up until your pussy is hovering over his face. Then he takes a few moments to just admire it. It was cute just like every other part of you. One of his fingers drags over your flesh and pulls on the puffy folds, showing off your pretty little clit and slick entrance.

“Don’t hold back for me, rookie. I want to taste all of you,” he says as he looks up at you.

You return his look and nod before he pulls you lower by your hips onto his face. A squeak flies from your lips when his tongue makes contact with your cunt. Leon chuckles as he watches the two of you with lustful eyes. He’s working on undressing himself now.

Chris’s tongue takes a long swipe from the bottom to the top of your pussy, taking in as much of you as he can. Right now you’re all he can smell. Every breath brings him more of you. Your taste overwhelms him too. It’s the way he wants to live. You whine as his lips engulf your clit to suck on.

“Already making such pretty noises,” Leon teases, “Is Chris doing it how you like, sweet girl?”

You nod, your eyes connecting with those of your boyfriend’s for a moment. He kneels on the bed to be closer to you. His hand comes up to stroke your cheek.

“Good. You deserve it, baby. Just look at you. So precious. No wonder he’s crazy about you too,” Leon murmurs as he leans in and kisses you deeply.

His lips move with yours as you moan into his mouth. You begin rocking your hips back and forth on Chris’s face to get more of the stimulation he’s providing you with. His tongue flattens over your cunt and presses against it in stripes, making broad strokes that spark euphoria in your belly each time. His hands lock onto your hips to keep you still enough that you’re not interrupting his devouring of you.

The constant pleasure to your core makes you lightheaded. You would be swaying if not for the two men’s combined efforts to keep you up right. Your kisses become sloppier, and to alleviate it, Leon ducks down to kiss your neck instead. He peppers your skin with hickeys, his possessive nature shining through a bit.

“My pretty girl, doing so good for us right now. Taking it like a pro,” he whispers teasingly as his hands cup your breasts and give them a tender squeeze.

His lips travel down to where his hands are. He plants a few kisses on the swell of your chest. The sight of your nipples perking up for him would never get old.

“Sweet baby, everything about you is perfect. Don’t know how Chris resisted and never got a taste,” he says as he sucks one of your nipples into his mouth.

Your head falls back and you shudder. Two mouths on you, both licking and sucking in harmony. It made you moan loud enough that you would’ve certainly got a noise complaint if any of the other rooms were occupied.

“Is that for me or Chris, babydoll?” Leon asks and smirks up at you.

“Both,” you whimper, “Both of you are making me feel so good.”

“Not picking favorites, hm?” he goads you further.

“Can’t think enough to pick one right now,” you say simply before another whine leaves you. You didn’t want any more drama. At least not before you came.

“Oh, is your head getting all foggy, baby?” he coos.

“Mhm,” you whimper and nod.

On your lower half, Chris keeps his mouth firmly attached to your pussy. He’s pretty sure you already have him addicted, and you haven’t even cum yet. He’s licking with all the dedication in the world as if this task was his life’s purpose, the action he was put on this very earth to complete.

“Tastes so fucking good,” he grunts into you as he continues open mouth kissing your cunt, “Prettiest little pussy I’ve ever seen.”

Leon smiles at the compliment, almost as if it was partially intended for him by virtue of being your boyfriend.

“She’s loving you, Chris. You’ve got her brain melting out her ears,” Leon purrs while rubbing your back soothingly, steadying you from the tremors that rack your body, “Pretty baby’s probably gonna cum all over your face soon.

When he hears that, the man below you pulls your hips down even harder and locks you onto his mouth. He works even harder to please you, relishing in the way your noises grow louder and more strained.

You give Leon puppy eyes as your hand darts out for his. Your fingers squeeze his palm so tight, he’s sure there will be little red crescents on the skin when you let go.

“What is it, sweetheart? You need to hold my hand?” he croons. He gently squeezes your hand back and moves his face to your neck to press a few more kisses there. “I’ve got you, baby. You cum whenever you want, I’m not gonna let go. Show Chris how pretty you are when you cum.”

Your teeth dig into your lip and your hips quiver violently.

“Fuck Leon- I just- I- Chris,” you stutter out. Your brain rushes to latch onto something, but it can’t seem to get a lock on anything.

“Don’t gotta say anything, angel. Just cum all over my face,” Chris commands from between your thighs.

“You heard him, baby. No thinking. Just let yourself feel good. That’s what we both wanna see,” he whispers and brings your hand to his lips.

Your lips part to say something, but you decide to just listen. You grind your hips down against Chris’s mouth, gasping as the euphoria paramounts within you. Your hips roll even faster as you feel release within your grasp. You’re closing in on it when you shriek and nearly double over with the shattering feeling of your peak.

“There we go, that’s it,” Leon chuckles softly, “Show him what I get to see every night. My favorite sight in the whole world.”

Your body moves as if it’s possessed when you cum. Your back arches into a curve with supernatural speed. Your eyes are screwed shut while your mouth is wide open. The younger man next to you grins while the older man below you continues to make out with your pussy, lapping up every drop of you that he could.

When you start to come down, he lets up, knowing Leon had more in store from you. He lets your hips go, and you basically topple over onto the mattress. You inhale and exhale deeply as the cool motel sheets rest against your cheek.

Chris’s eyes are hooded from lust, the effects of the most erotic experience in his life lingering. His cock is fully hard, standing up and aching for more of your touch. Yet in a way he’s satisfied, having just made you cum, tasted the sweetest part of you, and heard your most vulnerable sounds.

Leon’s undressed on the bed, the only one of the three of you whose mind didn’t feel hazy with clouds of desire. He tugs on his stiff cock a few times as he decides what to do. His eyes flit between your crumpled up form and the other man lying on his back.

“Chris, you wanna hold her for a little bit? Have her sit in your lap?” he asks.

The older man almost felt pathetic at how eager he was to play along and say yes. Almost. Because he still does that. He nods and sits up, leaning back against the headboard.

The next move is getting you up. Your boyfriend guides you to where Chris is, and he then helps you into his lap. Your mind was coming back to normal, and you were looking up at Leon with adoration while you melted against Chris’s broad chest. You nuzzle it gently, feeling its warmth and plush quality. His thick arms encase you, making sure you feel secure.

Leon pulls you on your hips to get you a bit lower where he has easier access.

“I’m not gonna let you fuck her this time. I wanna show you how it’s done first,” Leon teases as he slots himself between your legs.

In any other instance, this would’ve pissed Chris off. Everything about it would’ve left him disappointed and annoyed. But now any negative emotion is overshadowed by two words.

This time.

Because this time implies there will be a next time. And maybe even a time after next time. Another time for him to feel his cock inside you. Another time for him to make you cum on his fingers or watch you ride him. Some of his hopes spring back to life.

Internally, his heart is soaring. He kisses your hairline carefully as Leon slides his tip between your folds that are sticky with arousal. He teases himself with the feeling only a few times before nudging the tip inside.

Your head falls back against Chris’s chest and you moan. He kisses your temple and caresses your sides as if you need to be soothed. As if this isn’t the dick you’ve been taking nightly for the last few months.

Chris’s own length is rock solid against your back. Every small change in your facial expression or rise in pitch of your voice sends blood rushing to it, the threat of cumming untouched ever present.

Leon steadily pushes in until he’s buried all the way inside and you’re nice and filled to the hilt.

“So fucking tight. You gotta feel it, Chris. You thought she tasted good? Just wait till you feel her,” he grunts.

“I bet. I could tell from how cute her pussy was. She was clenching around nothing the whole time. I’m sure she loves to squeeze down anytime she’s got a cock in her,” Chris whispers

More hope was rising in him that this wouldn’t be a one night only thing, and it took all his strength not to smile like an idiot. His knuckles move down your cheek lovingly as he speaks to you and holds you while Leon thrusts. Your body rocks gently with the momentum, pushing you against Chris’s cock each time.

“She does love to get all tight. Just wants to suck me in so I can never leave,” Leon says and holds your thighs to start thrusting harder.

“Such a needy girl. I should’ve known, rookie,” Chris murmurs to you.

“It just feels so good,” you whine, “It’s not my fault.”

“Oh I know it’s not, precious,” Leon mocks, “Your head is always full of nothing but air when I’m around. It probably just gets worse with Chris here.”

You whine in protest and squirm a little, unknowingly grinding your ass on Chris’s cock and coaxing a moan from him. Leon’s dick hits deeper too, bringing you heightened pleasure.

“You’re not an airhead, baby. You’re a sweet girl. My rookie. You just wanna feel good, hm?” Chris says teasingly.

You nod along, and from the look on his face, Leon is amused, pleased with the dynamic Chris opened up.

“No one said she isn’t sweet. Just that she goes a little dumb as soon as she’s got my dick in her,” he teases.

He sighs and his eyes roll back for a moment as you clamp around you. He keeps rocking in and out, enjoying the wet sounds coming from each one of his movements. He also can’t get enough of your mewls or the way you're clutching one of Chris’s forearms right now.

“Maybe he’s right about that. You just work so hard all the time. You need something that can calm you down,” Chris says and squeezes his arms around you, “You’re still so precious.”

You look up at Chris with lovey dovey eyes, remembering why you’d been so enamored with him in the first place. He talked to you like you were the sweetest thing to walk this earth and made you believe it. He made you feel cared for in a way that was indescribable. Pure feeling.

“Yeah you are,” Leon grunts, “And you can go as dumb as you want right now, baby. We’re both here taking care of you. I’m sure Chris loves holding you while all you can do is whine for more.”

“That’s right. I love seeing you like this, knowing you’re taken care of,” he whispers, “And you know I’ve always got you. I’ll never let my rookie go.”

All the words are overwhelming. You pant and writhe more in Chris’s grasp.

“You getting close again, babydoll?” Leon asks, knowing your tells.

You whimper and nod quickly.

“Good. I am too,” he grunts.

He starts working himself into you harder. The momentum from each snap of his hips keeps you rubbing against Chris’s shaft and working him closer to the edge as well. All three of you are panting, muscles tensing up in some way as the end approaches. 

You stare into Leon’s eyes for a moment before rotating your head and looking up at Chris. Both sets of eyes are fixated on you. The overflow of attention is the final strike your body needs to start convulsing with release. The older man’s arms tighten around you, keeping you close as your skin heats up and your noises grow whinier. Your boyfriend keeps a steel grip on your hips, his fingers stroking back and forth.

“That’s my girl,” Leon grunts, “Let it out, baby.”

He moans and lets his head fall back as he feels himself hurtling towards the finish line.

“My rookie. Just perfect, honey,” Chris whispers, “I’m so proud of you.”

The words nearly triple your pleasure and you continue to ride out the high as Leon finally cums and shoots it inside you. He nearly growls as he pounds into you, completely emptying himself. All the rutting is enough for Chris to cum too. He spurts his hot seed against the small of your back, holding onto you with all he has as his hips jerk upwards and he imagines it’s him buried inside you.

Leon’s the first to get his bearings back. He pulls out slowly, letting you adjust to the feeling of emptiness. He then rolls to the side of you and Chris, watching the final moments with the other man. You lie on his chest with your eyes drooping, your chest heaving as you catch your breath. His hand lazily runs down your side. He savors your warmth on his chest. Almost subconsciously, it feels like you really are his in this moment.

That is until you regain your composure and sit up. You hop up for a moment to clean off the mess on your back. He knew you’d have to, but the sight still makes Chris’s heart ache. 

As you return to the bed, you give your boyfriend a dizzy smile and crawl over to curl up at his side. He rubs your back and pecks your forehead. For the two of you, it’s like a regular night. Chris isn’t sure where he fits in this anymore. Should he just move to the bed you two had claimed earlier? Should he make the two of you get up?

He’s running through solutions in his mind when your hand comes out and grabs his wrist. You’re looking up at him with some sort of longing in your eyes.

“Stay with us,” you say.

It was softer than he ever heard from you, different from when you introduced yourself on your first day of work or made a mistake on a mission. It was a new kind of shyness that just made him want more from you. He stares at you and contemplates the idea. Leon raises his eyebrows and gives him a look, giving him the silent ok he needed to slowly lower himself to the mattress. 

He shuts off the light first, leaving the motel room in darkness except for the glow of the yellow street lamps shining through the window. His head hits the pillow, and he drapes an arm over you. You’re still leaning into Leon for the most part which he makes no move to interfere with.

The three of you don’t say anything for the rest of the night. Silence permeates the atmosphere of your shared space. The events of the last hour run through each of your minds in different ways. The mission had taken a back seat for now. It could return to prominence tomorrow once the mental dust had settled.

Leon’s eyes flutter shut first, and his deep, even breaths of sleep follow. You’re barely awake with your cheek squished against his pectoral muscle. Chris watches you, the outline of your face illuminated from the faint light outside. He wonders if this really will be the only time with you. If his taste of heaven will remain that, a sample of what he could have had. He chooses to not believe that and drive himself crazy.

He shuts his eyes too and brings his face to nestle against the crook of your neck. His breath hits your neck when he sighs. In the abyss that is the motel room, he feels your hands come up to rest on his arm.

[icebearpopsicle]

⁠✧Baby Steps⁠✧

(Shouta Aizawa X G.N. Reader)

Warnings: Aizawa is 38 here, age gap (like it's 13 years), smut part is shitty and kinda rushed, excessive use of the word "as" because i literally cannot write, gentle dom, aizawa is kinda overbearing, dub con(?) jus towards the end though,

Word count: 2.3k+ words

Author's note: this is shitty but i hope you enjoy it ♡ ♡/ aizawa is out of character/ smut is bad cuz i am even worse at that sorry ༎ຶ⁠‿⁠༎ຶ/

You stretched your back, hands clasped behind your head, hearing the faint sound of your spine cracking against the support of your chair. It has been hours since you started scrolling, looking for a job, your palm sweaty from holding the mouse. A click here, a click there, and a scroll downwards, then upwards again. You had recently moved here after graduation, and while you were managing well initially, the high cost of your apartment and day-to-day expenses had become too much to sustain without a source of income.

You scrolled further down when the computer screen displayed some words that caught your interest:

Name: Shouta Aizawa

Age: 38

Requirement(s): Babysitter

Requirement Information: 2 kids

Salary: To be negotiated later on

Contact details: aizawashouta@gmail.com / XXXXX-XXXXX

Posted 1 hour ago

Okay, yeah, that was pretty brief, but the timing gave you hope that you might just get the job, so you clicked on his phone number and started typing away on your keyboard.

"Hello, I saw your post about wanting a babysitter and I was wondering if the spot was still free?"

You hit the send button and got up from your seat for the first time in hours for a small break. After about 20 minutes, you checked for a response and opened the chat again.

"Yes, it is. If you're interested, please come tomorrow at 8 am if you're available," followed by a link to his location.

A smile claimed your lips at the excitement of finally landing a job after so many tries.

When you saw his age, you definitely didn't expect him to be this... hot? Which father of two kids is this hot?

"Good morning. I believe you contacted me yesterday evening, yeah?" His smooth, deep voice is like music to your ears as you look at the sleep-deprived man towering over you. Rough stubble covers his face, his hair cascading to his shoulders, as his broad shoulders lean against the door frame.

"Oh... ah... yes, good morning. It was indeed me who contacted you... sir," you reply as he gestures for you to enter his house. You then take notice of his lavish yet cozy home, with toys scattered in the hallway. You both enter the kitchen, and he jerks his head toward a seat at the table with a low hum.

"Would you like to drink anything?" he asks, picking up his mug from the table as you shake your head.

"I am gonna be asking you a few questions and I need you to be honest with your answers." he commands, taking a seat opposite you. His black shirt puling slightly upwards, revealing his wrists as you give a simple nod.

"Firstly... What is your age?" He asks taking a sip from his mug.

"I am 25 years old.. sir.." You reply confidently however there is a frown on his face at your response. Was he... Upset? Afraid to loose this opportunity you quickly try and talk about your past experiences with kids as he interrupts you.

"No, it's not that I just hope you aren't lying about your age"

"Why... Would I?" You ask with a frown enveloping your face.

"I wouldn't believe you to be 18 with a face like that" He replies his tone rather blunt.

Ouch. His straightforwardness stinging lightly.

"Moving forward... do you party, drink or any of those stuff?"

"No, sir."

"Hmmm ... Fine, I suppose you can start working from today"

You give him a small smile as you mutter a small 'thank you'.

"Got any questions?"

"Actually yes! I was wondering where the kids might be so that I could ensure they're comfortable with me being around!!"

He gives a slight nod before replying his voice surprisingly gentle and low when talking about them "Yeah, they're sleeping right now. My eldest son; he wakes up at 9 and my daughter wakes up at 10:30." He gestures to a picture on the mantle showing a purple haired boy and grey haired girl laughing and playing together as you hear the faint sound of him taking a sip from his mug.

"They are so adorable." You gush smiling at their innocent faces. "And could I get some more information on what their personalities are like?"

"Hm.." he hums as he finishes the drink on his mug and sets it down on the table.

"Well my son is 9 years old, Shinsou that's his name, he doesn't warm up easily to people but he is quiet and usually plays with Eri or alone. Eri is my daughter she is 5 and quite literally the opposite of her brother, ahem.. she is talkative and quite sensitive. None of them are picky about their food, they eat anything that they're given and nor do they have any allergies.. and yeah that's about it.." He says rubbing his hands together and you can hear how rough and dry they are.

It had been two weeks since you started working in his house and only then you realised how often Shouta stayed away from home, any free time he got he would spend it with his children, taking them out for activities, cooking for them, playing with them, seeing how close he was with his son and daughter often left you with a smile on your lips at the close bond of the family. True to Shouta's word you could really see the difference in the way Shinsou would behave around you and around his father or sister and somewhere deep down you were a bit upset but you knew that all of this takes time and as long he was comfortable enough to have you around you were fine. But Eri on the other hand was absolutely adorable, she adored you and you adored her, say if you were watching Shinsou and Eri play it was Eri who would call you over and ask you to play with them. Aizawa on the other hand was always kind and formal with you sometimes even bringing takeaway for you, but whenever he was over you couldn't help but just look at his biceps the way they would bulge out from his shirt when he folded his arms, the way his hands would be disturbed with veins when his grip would tighten even in the slightest, and maybe.... Just maybe, you tried to catch his attention by wearing really short shorts or a tshirt that hug your body just at the right places.

But alas it was only you who kept drooling over him....

or that's what you thought...

You were seemingly unaware the amount of self control Aizawa had to practice just not to fuck you dumb on his cock.

It had been three months since you started working for him and you still found your gaze lingering on him for too long, initially it was at his face, then down to his broad shoulders, and then his chest, then it was further down to his hands and finally it was on his......

"Are you sad cuz papa isn't home today?" You hear the innocent voice of Shinsou behind you having counted your sighs since you woke up, which was according to him, around 32.

"No, no of course not Shinsou.. I am totally fine, just a bit tired" You lied, obviously you would. Why would you admit to finding Shinsou's father hot. Other than the fact that you want him to ruin you till you can't form any thoughts. And you definitely were sad that Aizawa was working till 9 pm that too on a Sunday.

Shinsou mumbles an "Okay..." walking away to colour his book that he had been previously doing before being worried about you. A few minutes after he had approached you, your face suddenly lit up as you realised that Shinsou was worried about you, you rushed up to him from the kitchen counter to the living room abruptly sitting down in front of him

"Are you worried about me Shinsou?" You ask excitedly your smile radiant. Shinsou earlier looking up at you looks away from embarrassment not replying, his ears turni red and you just couldn't help the aww that left your lips.

"Awww you're so cute!!" You squeal and your hand automatically goes to ruffle his hair and he doesn't pull away not this time and you realise that he has gotten comfortable with you, at that moment the door clicks open as Aizawa enters the house and peeks into the living room to see what the commotion was about.

"Papa!!!!" Eri squeals noticing her dad in the hallway as she runs up to him and Aizawa picks her up his voice gentle and soothing "Hey my love" He says kissing her on the cheek as she giggles from his stubble pricking her soft skin.

"Sup kiddo" Aizawa comes near you and Shinsou with Eri in his arms.

"Hello.." Shinsou greets him quietly as Aizawa bends down to ruffle his hair.

"All good?" Aizawa asks him and Shinsou nods as he goes back to colouring his book, Aizawa finally looks at you making your heart almost leap out as he gave you a small smirk "You seem happy, what's up?" He asks with a small groan as he puts Eri on the floor and she runs off playing "Shinsou let me ruffle his hair and he was worried about me!!" You reply excitedly your wide smile bringing a low chuckle from him.

"Oh yeah? What exactly were you worried about Shin?" Aizawa questions sitting down to look at what his son is colouring.

"(Name)-san was sad that you were working this late" Shinsou replies nonchalantly and you swear your eyes hadnt widened this much in your life, you feel the heat rush to your cheeks and Aizawa's eyebrows raise as he gives you a quick side glance before looking at Shinsou, he is about to say something when you interject denying strongly. "Shinsou!! I told you I was tired!! Thats not the case!!"

"Or, tired they say" He adds briefly, Aizawa doesn't even get the chance to say anything as you immediately get up picking up Eri and Shinsou taking them to their individual rooms ignoring any protests of Shinsou claiming how he was a big boy and he could stay up late, you argue with Shinsou for atleast half an hour before he finally agrees to sleep even though he was angry at you.

You head downstairs sighing and praying that Aizawa didn't pay much heed to whatever Shinsou said before as you head towards the living room to pick up the scattered toys and crayons only to be met with the sight of Aizawa sitting on the couch and while normally he isn't intimidating the way he sat with eyes closed, arms folded his right leg over his left reminded you of your father and his strict nature slightly intimidating you, quietly you pick up the toys glad that he fell asleep; as you picked the last of the toys you heard Aizawa's voice boom through making you freeze in your tracks "Still upset that I had work today?" You dont reply for a long time not trusting yourself to speak but when you do your voice is slightly shaky "No... No not at all.. why would I be.. you know Shinsou he just says whatever he wants..."

"Oh yeah? Does he?"

"........ okay well not ... Not exactly....."

You mumbel turning around to face Aizawa only to find him standing infront of you as looking down at your compared to his smaller form.

"Well then, answer my question."

You look away nervously chewing on your bottom lip, coating them pink with saliva, Aizawa tries to resist the urge to kiss you but fails as he grabs your face roughly pulling it closer to his, smashing his lips with yours. The kiss is sloppy and desperate and you can sense the sexual tension between you melting away.

You both pull free from the kiss, the room filled with pants, yours being much louder than his, taking in huge gulps of air.

You feel Aizawas arms wrap around your waist pulling you closer towards him.

"My room or the couch?" He whispers in your right ear his voice sending shivers along your spine.

It had been an hour since Aizawa had been prepping you after finding out you were a virgin, where once it burned to even have a single finger of his inside you, now you could easily 4 of his fingers at once.

Yet, tears spilled from your eyes when Aizawa pushes his dick (just the tip) inside you as Aizawa kisses away you tears with soft coo's of 'just a bit more' 'you're doing so good baby' 'it's just a few more minutes yeah, we will start to feel good real soon' rubbing soothing circles in your back as you sink your face into his shoulder blades, his intoxicating cologne filling your nostrils; finally after what felt like an eternity your hole sits down on his his dick as he gradually thrusts into you making you whimper and groan.

"So fucking good for me.. shit... Ugh... Fuck so tight, so fucking compliant.... Shit baby .. you feel so good"

You hear him praise you but you're barely able to register even a single word due to your muddled state of mind, your whines get louder, his thrusts getting more faster and rapid now. He hits a particularly sweet spot as you rise your head to scream at the pleasure coursing through your body "That's the spot is it." Aizawa grunts angling his hips to hit that spot, chortling at your desperate and meek attempt to push him away.

"Cum... Sh...shit... Gonna cum... Fuck..."

"Yeah? Gonna come for me? Gonna come from this cock fucking you stupid?"

You nod your head frantically chanting a mantra of 'so good's', orgasm coursing through your body, your body trembling from the aftermath of your orgasm as you lay limp against his chest.

After what feels like a few minutes you feel Aizawa thrust into you making you whine from the overstimulation

"Cant... No... No please... Hurts..."

You try to push him away only for him grab your wrists with his hand behind your back as he increases the pace of his thrusts

"I am yet to come baby, just a few more rounds 'kay?"

[en-gelic]

THE BOY IS MINE — !

syn. when you get jealous gn. fluff 1.1k cw. skinship, jealousy, short reader 엔하이픈 형선 ୨୧ the boy is mine LiA'S NOTE my bday is on monday 🤭 COLLECTION 엔하이픈 막내선

LEE HEESEUNG — You had been watching him interact with the engenes for the past 20 minutes, watching as he made flirtatious jokes and held their hands. Pushing back the uncontrollable pout on your lips, you huffed and dodged his kiss when you arrived home. Bewildered by your indifference, he pestered you about it, trying to bribe you to tell him. "Why are you mad? Just tell me." He pressed, burying his head between your neck, pressing ticklish kisses on your collarbone. "Go talk to your fans." You pouted, shrugging him off and stalking into the kitchen. An amused smile grew on his lips as he bit back laughter at your childish behavior.

"Are the engenes really the cause of why you're mad." He questioned, catching your arm before you could escape his grasp. Feeling embarrassed, you refused to answer. He leaned down and pressed kisses on your lips, each one getting longer than first. Pulling away, he trailed kisses down your neck. "Engenes should be jealous of you," He began between kisses. "Because you have me, and I love you." "More than you love the engenes?" You huffed, feeling your anger deplete. He let out a breathy chuckle, scooping you up in his arms and moving to the bedroom. "Of course."

PARK JONGSEONG — Staring daggers at the waitress, you watched Jay charmingly smile at her and engage in what he called polite conversation, but to you was just straight up flirting. You could see that the waitress had a clear crush on him by the way she batted her eyelashes at him repeatedly and the way she hovered around your table like a lost fly. "Baby, where do you want to go after this?" He asked, finishing the wine in his glass. You muttered a half-hearted reply which he was behavior he was not used to seeing from you. Moving to place a hand on yours, he tried to read your face.

"What's wrong?" He questions, worried about your silence. "I don't know. Ask the waitress, she seems to be bored and waiting for a conversation with you." You complained, picking at your food like a 5-year-old. He smiled his charming smile at you, and you huffed even more, turning to look at him. "Just stop doing that smile to everyone." You complained, pushing down the corners of his mouth. "Now she's probably going to fall in love with you and you'll leave me for her ass and personality." You pouted. Leaning over, he pressed a kiss on your pouty lips. That single action caused your lips to twitch upwards as you tried to bite back a smile. He gave you a few more, leaving his lips stained with your red lip product. Getting out your wet wipes, you moved to wipe his lips but was stopped by him dodging your hand. "I have to show the waitress I have a girlfriend, so my pretty girl doesn't get jealous." He said, teasing you with a grin. "I hate you." You replied, feigning indifference, but actually pleased at his stained lips. "I love you too." He answered. ✶ more under the cut !

SIM JAEYUN — Jake had been laying on the floor, playing with Layla for the past hour, leaving you to relish in your growing hatred to a dog you used to love before. "Should we take Layla out for a walk?" He asked, sitting on the bed beside you. Without replying, you turned away from him, playing games on your phone. He shook your leg, immediately noticing something was wrong. "Babe?" He asked. "Go take her by yourself, since you love her more than me." You mumbled, sinking into your blanket barrier. He stilled for a moment, until he slid into the bed with you. "Are you jealous?" His hot breath swirled at your neck as amusement lined his voice.

"Why would I be jealous of a dog?" You retorted, even though you were indeed jealous of a dog. Knowing how much your pride meant to you, he stifled his giggles, which resulted in you huffing even more and moving out of his grasp. You felt him get out of the bed and heard the door open and close after. Thinking he left, you scoffed and buried yourself in the blanket, thinking about ways to get Layla out of the room. An arm startled you out of your thinking as you were moved to your back. Removing the blanket from your head, you found his eyes gazing down at you. "I was reading something," He started, caging you between his arms. "The art of fixing things with your girlfriend, I think it was called." Clearly, you knew that wasn't a thing, but you listened anyway. Leaning down, he caught your ear with his mouth, moving down to your neck. "Step one, was give her a kiss." Before you could reply, his lips collided with yours messily. Pushing him away, you struggled to catch your breath. "Where's Layla?" You questioned, knowing very well that she would come in between what you were about to do. He grinned his signature boyish grin. "She's on her walk."

PARK SUNGHOON — "Does he have to be so pretty?" You complained silently as your date was continuously interrupted by fans and onlookers stopping him to take a photo with him or get his autograph. "We should go to Tifanny and Co next," He started, excited after meeting his fans. "They just said that a new collection was coming out." Without replying, you excused yourself to the bathroom, muttering pouty complaints to yourself, Sunghoon smiling to himself at your irritation, finding it cute that you were jealous.

To make you even more jealous, he chatted about the fans on the drive home fighting back a smile at your pouty replies. You had been so immersed in your phone that you didn't even notice when he pulled up in an empty driveway. He picked up the phone in your hands and put it in one of his pockets, patting his lap afterwards. Pulling a face, you reluctantly moved to his lap, avoiding his gaze. "What's wrong, love? Feeling jealous?" He teased, moving you to face him. "No." You mumbled through evidently pouting lips. His hand traced the fabric on your jeans, moving his hand from your hips to your waist. Pulling you closer to his body, he pressed a peck on your neck, holding it there before moving to your collarbone. "What do you want?" You complained, pushing away from him. Your action was short-lived as he pulled you back, peppering more kisses on your neck. "You." Dancing around the border of temptation, he kissed everywhere but your lips. After he pulled away, your pout increased. "Why did you stop?" He displayed his perfect teeth through a grin. "I see you've forgiven me. Say please and I'll consider." He teased. "Kiss me and I'll forgive you." In an instant, his lips were on yours; the action of forgiveness becoming messier. Pulling away, you slid off his lap. "I'll forgive you now."

© EN-GELIC, 2024

[city-tickles]

Two Tickle Sessions In One Day!

Hi!

It's been a while but I hope you are doing well. I am still on break from posting clips or requests but I wanted to let you know about my recent sessions.

A month ago I was in one of those bad tickle moods. One of those moods where it was all you could think about and the rush of getting tickled or tickling someone was intense. I don't get these moods often and usually when I do, I don't like it because the last couple of times that has happened, I've received bad news about someone I care about, so it also makes me a little anxious when I get that way. Thankfully, it did not happen this time.

I needed to get the mood out but there was no one in the area to session with. Since no one was available, I decided to check out two parties that I have not been to in years. One M/M party and one Female Foot Party.

When it comes to M/M, I am 100% lee and it is something that does not give me much if any arousal. It's just tickling, and I can appreciate it. I'm sure I'd appreciate it more if it could "get me there" but I've seen enough clips and done sessions, and it usually doesn't. I also rarely do M/M because I have to be in a mood for it. This time, I was in a big mood for it, so I decided to go.

I've spoken about the M/M party in the past. Last time I went about 8 years ago, I just wasn't comfortable or ready to be there and it seemed like the owner took umbrage with that when I tried to leave. I figured a lot of time has passed and I have gained more experience, so hopefully things would be fine. I explain why I wanted to go to the party, and I was allowed to go.

I entered the party, and as a cis-identifying male, it's a little overwhelming at first. Action (Everyone is clothed) is everywhere right in front of you, but everyone is also very nice and doing their thing. I like to give people space, but there was no space to go, so I was just watching everything go down lol.

While waiting, I was introduced to a guy, who had grey hair and , who was also into tickling and we began talking. At first, the convo was small talk, but then we realized we knew each other from a previous meeting, which made things easier. After some talking, he asked what I was here for and when it comes to males, I am strictly a lee, so I told him I wanted to be tickled. Luckily, a massage table opened up and was cleaned off and ready to be used. We asked the table owner, who was a tall, slender man with grey hair and facial hair, if we could use it. Lucky or not lucky for me, we were allowed but the table owner was also into tickling. They asked me if he could join in and I figured why not?

I laid on the table and decided not to be bound because sometimes I stay still anyway. And before I know it, I have two lers all over me, testing out my spots and trying to find where I am most ticklish. They would glide their fingers all over my sides, under my arms, my tummy, my thighs and of course, my feet while I laughed and didn't move around too much. It was extra sensitive because 1. With the massage chair, I'm mostly looking upwards and can only see the ceiling. And 2. I'm getting teasing from all angles! The two very skilled lers keep saying things like, "Oh, he's real ticklish!" "I think he likes it!" While others at the party are watching and saying things like, "I think he doesn't want it to stop" and "He's having a lot of fun now"

With two lers on me, I never had time to have one spot make me off the wall ticklish because it was always changing. Sometimes it was their fingers lightly tickling my stomach that was the most intense. Other times, it was harder touches on my feet by one of the lers. Sometimes it was an attack under my arms. There were a lot of different moments during the 20-30 minutes of tickling that just kept making me laugh hysterically. I do know at one point, a hairbrush was used because I felt it and that always felt more surprising than ticklish. The other interesting part about having two lers on your feet were both styles were different. One was lighter and the other was harder, but both were effective!

(I couldn't find a MM/M gif)

After my time was done, I thanked them for the session and decided to wrap up since the party was coming to an end anyway. It was time to go to the next party.

This party, which I also had low hopes for, runs all the time in NYC and it is pay-to-play. I was that down bad, that I was willing to do it this evening lol. I went in with very low expectations and the reminder that if the first few moments are bad, I can just leave.

When I got there, it took forever for them to let me in, which already set my expectations to low. Despite this, I walked in and heard laughter already. Someone was getting tickled under the sheets, so I knew I wasn't the only tickler in the area. The girls that I saw in there were nice and chill to talk to for the most part. Some were more personable, while others just wanted to make their money, which I am not upset about. They're not there to be my friend.

The first lee was a tiny girl with red hair, and was ticklish but not that reactionary. I don't think she was ticklish on her feet at all, but I would always ask if it's okay to tickle elsewhere. Thankfully it was, and her upperbody, especially her arms, were her weakspot. She did not seem into it in the slightest, so I tried not to overdo it.

The second lee was this tall, black girl, with long hair and very nice to talk to. She wasn't sure how ticklish she could be, so I would tested some of her spots. Her feet were tolerable, her knees were very sensitive, and under her arms, she was almost unable to do!

I brought some tools that I didn't bring out at the M/M party (my bag at that party was all the way on the other side I just didn't want to bother with it) I ran an ostrich feather up and down her soles and her legs, which felt more relaxing to her. Then, I brought out TicklingDuck's device vibrating device.

As the device touched her soles, she would laugh hard, squirm around, cover her mouth, and was genuinely shocked at something being so ticklish on her. I asked if I could use the device on her knees and she went "Oh no!" and let me do it anyway, which I didn't do for long because she couldn't handle it.

The third lee was another redhead, who was also a nice person to talk to and wearing boots and long socks. I tickled her through the socks first, which made her giggle a bit, before taking them off and scribbling on her toes and soles so more. Her feet were also moderately ticklish, so I asked if I could tickle other parts of her body. Her weakspot was the ribcage and made any other spot look like a 1 compared to them! I spent most of my time on her feet since the ribcage was so intense, but we did play a few games. I would tell her if she could let me tickle there for 10 seconds, she would get a reward, which would be a foot massage or other foot worship. She agreed and barely opened up her arms until I scribbled in there and teased her further, saying "You gotta let me get in there or I'm gonna increase the time" She opened up her ribs and it was the longest 10 seconds of her life. Afterwards, I would congratulate her for making it through and doing such a good job.

After we were finished, I was ready to go since I had an obligation to get to later in the evening, but another taller woman approached me and asked me if I like tickling. She mentioned that she liked tickling to and wanted to know if I wanted to session. I was skeptical at first, because it felt like a money-grab, but I figured I'm already here so why not?

Best decision I made at that party. I started by spider tickling all the way up from her feet to legs, to her sides, across her tummy, back to her ribs, and of course under her arms. This woman was genuinely ticklish everywhere and was a lot of fun to play with. I would caress her thighs and tease like I'm about to tickle there, only to sneak attack and tickle her tummy. I brought out the TicklingDuck device again and we played another counting game to see how long she could last without moving, and I made sure to count the longest 30 seconds I could, running my fingers all across her tummy and under hear arms while she laughed her head off underneath the covers. The last thing I did to her, was bring out the pair of stocks that just arrived. I was itching to try them on someone and she was so excited to see stocks. We locked her bare feet and the stocks and I ran my fingers all across her soles and under her toes, while she was unable to get away or pull them out. While these sessions lasted 10 minutes, this one was definitely longer and we both knew it. After she was done, she complimented my ler skills, saying most male lers are rough, but I was very gentle with her, but also devastating, which I took as a big compliment.

Before I left, I had one request for her. I had a hard time locking the stocks on myself at my home, but when I did, they were not very comfortable. I asked if she could test the stocks out on me to see how good they were. She obliged and got my feet in the stocks. Once I was locked in, she began running her nails across my soles, which was one of the more intense tickles I got all night! I laughed hard and and was unable to do anything else, my feet were trapped and that definitely made the tickling worse! She would tease me and say things like "Aww! Is someone ticklish?" And "Now who's ticklish" until I had to stop her because I really had to get going. I thanked her for the fun time and planned to come back in the future.

Overall, it was a great day of tickles and satisfied my ler and lee moods!

[tteokdoroki]

*ੈ🌩️‧₊˚— egoist + yoichi isagi.

૮˶ᵕ ༝ᵕ˶ა synopsis — teasing isagi is great. in fact, it's all fun and games...until his ego comes out to play.

⭑ warnings — please read + mdni ! characters aged up to 20s, established relationships, smut, makeout sessions, dry humping, ruined orgasms, clothed!sex, spit!kink, pro player + mean!isagi... he's very condescending not beta read ! - fem!reader.

⭑ words — 1.5K.

⭑ notes — hi !! lmao this is super last minute but i wanted to post something for isagi's bday because i'm obsessed with him !! i blacked out when writing this lmao fhbgb enjoy!! - m.list ✩

make-outs with isagi always start off soft and slow.

you’re always curled up cuddling, tucked into his side with his head atop yours and no matter what you’re doing together — he’s always overwhelmed with this sudden urge to kiss you. yoichi will dwell on it for a while, blue eyes peering down at you while you’re distracted. overthink the best way to kiss you, if you’re in the mood, if you want to be touched.

in the end you catch him staring and a smile that makes his heart race in the way that it does on the pitch breaks out across your darling features. “yoichi,” you croon knowingly, cocking your head to the side playfully. “i know you wanna kiss me.”

“yeah, precious?” a grin to rival your own tugs in the corners of his lips, isagi looking effortlessly sexy with his dark hair in his eyes and his tongue poking in his cheek while he thinks of his next move. “how’dya know?”

“you’re staring.”

“i like the way you look. s’cute.” he taunts.

you shift and face him fully, narrowing your eyes before you counter. “then why don’t you do something about it?”

“can’t,” he shoots back smugly. “you talk too much.”

“and you think too much—!”

isagi gets hot and bothered when you play cat and mouse, he can’t help but lean in and capture your lips in a soft kiss to test the waters and see how far he can push you. he puts a hand on your chin, holding your face up to his and smirks against your lips when you work your own against him. they move together, tender and curious like the gentle push and pull of a tide guided by the moon up high — but waves always crash against the shore like dopamine hitting all the right points in the striker’s brain.

you flip a switch inside of him and the lights come on in the home of his mind. it’s when your delicate fingers traverse upwards, landing on the nape of his neck to toy with the tiny black curls there. you tug on his roots and isagi goes wild, his mouth becoming feverish against yours— tongue darting out to swipe over the seam of your lips in a silent plea for more.

along the way he manages to roll you over, so you go from being by yoichi’s side to lying underneath him— trapped in a lion’s cage. there’s a hand just above your head and one working it’s way up your shirt, your eyes are hooded and darkened and isagi’s are scrambled and feral. crazy. in the same way he gets when he’s piecing himself together during a match. this happens when you don’t let him in, when you kiss him with only your lips and tease him past the point of return.

the striker pulls back, figuring you out as he pins you to his bed with strong, slender hips— his hands leaving you to run through silky black locks and to cup his chin. “what’s the matter, egoist?” you lay waiting, panting beneath isagi while you look up at him and dare him through your lashes. “thought you wanted to kiss me.”

this is where everything changes; you lose your soft, loving isagi the moment you decide to provoke the little monster inside of him. “don’t push,” he breathes, his voice thick and husky. low in the way that makes lighting strike all the way down your spine. “you know how that ends for you, precious.” he knows you better than anyone else, what makes you tick and twitch. so he grinds down against you, just above where you need him and swoops down with a ravenous mouth when your lips part to sing isagi’s praises — eyes blowing wide as he ruts his dick into your soft tummy.

his tongue glides over yours eagerly, tasting everything you have to offer him, pushing into your mouth with a domineering force. you writhe against yoichi and mewl his name between the slipperiness of your kisses— swapping spit with your noses pressed right up against each other and your breathing so ragged that you feel as though you might pass out. your mouths slot perfectly together, moving so fast that the pace of your sloppy make out is almost bruising.

“yoichi,” you sigh out when you finally get the chance to take in some air though your chest won’t stop heaving. “goin’ too fast. w-what’s the matter, pretty boy?” your attempt to get back at him is weak, bucking your hips upwards to chase the friction that your boyfriend refuses to give you.

now it’s his turn to tilt his head to the side, licking at the string of saliva that connects your lips to his. “w-what’s the matter pretty boy?” he mocks you with a calculated thrust of his hardness against you— stickiness from his tip oozing against your skin. pouting, you fight against isagi for something. anything. you need him and he’s dangling that pleasure just above your head. “what’s the matter with you, hah? so pretty, precious. so needy. you want it that bad.” he sucks his teeth, mimicking your pout the more you grow desperate, sneering evilly as you lock your eyes away to fight off the frustrated tears.

“oh no, you don’t get to do that. open those pretty eyes for me precious,” yoichi growls but touches you tender, his hand cupping the roundness of your cheeks as he drags you up to face him. “you wanna mess around with me? fine. you wanna tease me? ‘m good with that. but you look at me. only me.” when he tells you that he means it and when you nod your head despite the whimper — agreeing to your boyfriends terms, he rewards you by shifting back and pressing the chubby outline of his dick against your molten core as his tongue laps into your mouth to swallow your moans.

then he’s sucking on your tongue, the rough pads of his fingers trickling up and down your sides, squeezing your ass and dragging you up to meet the carnivorous pace of his hips as they piston into you. you do your best to keep your eyes on him, despite the tears that pool in them, watching isagi devour you from below and his facade fall apart when his sticky tip catches on the hood of your swollen clit.

a wet patch from your naughty little pussy forms on the front of his sweat pants from just how much it drools and how much precum smears isagi smears against you. “where’s your fight precious? thought you wanted to tease me.” his limbs ache and muscles burn with desire as he works himself against you, panting into your open mouth and filling you with nothing but him. “c’mon… gimme somethin’, precious girl.”

he spits the words into your mouth, laughs as you clench around nothing and chase the delicious drag of his cock between your clothed folds. “mm… yo—!” but you can’t say anything, you can’t do anything because the way isagi talks down on you but grinds into you like he loves you is too embarrassing for you to bare. “s-stop, s’mm…it’s—“ you drawl all dreamy like, a familiar twist in your gut telling you that you’re close, that he’s pleasured you beyond what you can take and he’s not even touched you properly.

“you don’t want me to stop, baby. i know what you need,” isagi grunts as he sucks on your lower lip, takes it between rows of pearly whites and drags it away from you with a hooded stare, sapphire eyes sending you spiralling. his cock pulses against your sweltering pussy, soaks through your pants and drives you up the wall. “you want me t’get you there. you can cum like this, you’ve done it for me before…”

“i-i’ll do it again, please yoichi! ‘m…i-i’m,” you babble brainlessly, fingers finding his hair again and scratching at yoichi’s scalp the way he likes. in the way that started this whole ordeal— changing the path of your makeout from soft to sexy. “i’m close!”

all he does is grunt, shuddering under your touch, circling his hips until both of your eyes roll back. “i know precious. i know. i’ll get you there— make you c-cum, shit.”

and you’re about to burst, eyes drifting shut. you can feel it as you wrap your trembling thighs around isagi’s waist and match the way he grinds against you. your brain is muddled, dazed and fixated on his lips and the way he might sound when he shoots is load between your legs…but in an instant it all gone.

your eyes flutter open once again— revealing the monster you’ve made of yoichi isagi. his blue eyes delirious, his lips curled into a cruel smirk while your orgasm fades away and you whine out for him.

“thought i told you to keep looking at me,” he snarls wickedly, lifting his hips away from you, watching you pathetically chase the friction. “guess you don’t know how to listen, precious. that’s okay though, i’ll just have fuck you good ‘n proper... get inside you, fuck you up and make sure that i get it through your pretty little head. you only look at me.”

make-outs with isagi always start off soft and slow. but if you push the right buttons, his egoist always swoops in to fuck you right.

[sunonyoreface]

He Knows - Simon "Ghost" Riley Pt. 20

An: Not sure how to start this haha. Hi. It's been over a year but here we are. If you're an old reader, thank you for your patience and for deciding to come back.

Word count: 2410

As the shadow’s grip tightens around my wrist, it feels like a match is struck within me and lit alight with fear. It burns hot within my chest, searing the flesh attached to my bones, causing my entire body to tense. Yet the fear and the pain don’t cause me to shut down. Something has fundamentally changed in me throughout these last strange and inconceivable weeks.

When he leans over me, it’s like the match has lit up his mask, allowing me to see every movement and intention in complete darkness. My fear no longer shuts me down. I feel more awake than ever. More infuriated than ever.

But I’ll be damned if he finds out.  

“Miss me?” his voice is just as vile as it was last time.

I bite my tongue. Speaking now would only give him more reason to do harm.

“Probably not as much as you miss Suds though,” His strong grip yanks me upward into a sitting position. The tightness of his fingers twisting around my wrist painfully pinches my skin. I don’t dare utter a single sound. “Hey? Cause you haven’t been with him all week. Which begs the question: What the hell have you gotten up to, Birdie?”

“Nothing,” I mutter through bared teeth. “When I’m not in Captain Price’s office, the Lieutenant locks me in here.

“So Ghost babysits when Suds is gone. Eh? What’s he like?”

Bennet’s question throws me off guard. What’s he like? Of all the things to talk about, this is what he wants to focus on? Not the trade-off or Price’s supposed secret plans or the Ultranationalists or their impending betrayal. Just Ghost.

There has to be more to his words.

“Quiet,” you can smell the uneasiness on my breath. It carries my words and hangs pungent in the damp air.

“Wanna know something about Ghost?” he asks. My stomach turns. Of course, I do. But he’s counting on that. He wants to know just how interested I am in the Lieutenant. I also know that whatever he’s about to tell me probably isn’t true. He wants to drive a bigger wedge between myself and 141 so my loyalty remains with my father. Except I’ll never be loyal to my father.

I shrug my shoulders in response. I don’t know if he sees or if he cares, but I do know he wants to scare me.

“He tried to kidnap your mother before settling for you,” Bennet’s words taste like the bile rising up the back of my throat. Sour and acidic. Like expired milk. “Do you really think they would stop with you? They’ll never stop. Not until your family – our family is torn to shreds.”

I should have known. I want to feel shocked, but there’s a mental block in my brain stopping me. I. Should. Have. Known.

“Our family?” my voice wavers.

“Yes,” he hisses. “Our family. What? Do you think Ultranationalism is just a movement? It is so much more than that. We are so much more.”

“How come they didn’t get her?” I dare to ask him the question buzzing around in my mind. The hidden bug slips my mind. Our ears are far from the only ones present. Ghost at the very least will be listening. Maybe Soap. Maybe Price. Maybe some higher-up that I’ve never heard of. Nothing in this room is a secret.

Who’s to say it’s true anyway?

Yet, who’s to say it’s not? Sure, the Ultranationalists are liars. So is 141. So is Ghost. Of all the people here, he has kept the most from me.

Truth out here has a different meaning. Every single one of their moral compasses has been skewed by war’s magnetism. Even the men who are objectively fighting for peace and democracy are not on the moral high ground they believe themselves to be. None of their hands are clean. Especially Ghost.

“Our team intercepted last minute. Captured their crew. By the time we discovered their plan to take you too, we were already too late. Little Bird, this was never about you. Your father wants you to know that,” his grip on my wrist releases as he leans back, off the bed.

“Does he forgive me?” my throat tightens as the question barely escapes as a whisper.

“He’s working on it, the shadow’s words are swallowed by the darkness. “But he needs your help. We need to know what angle Price will take,”

“I’m not allowed in the room when they discuss that stuff. They don’t trust me.”

“You must’ve picked up on something,” he urges.

I pause for a moment and think. Of all the different conversations I’ve witnessed, surely something must stand out. Something that is safe to share and won’t hurt 141.

“I mean I don’t think they actually intend on going through with the exchange,” I start. However, this isn’t new to him. Neither side plans on cooperating with the other. It’s a recipe for disaster. “They don’t want my father dead. They need him alive for intel on my uncles. But I also think they might be moving on. Price and Ghost discussed intercepting other families. I think the same way they did with me,” it’s better if he thinks I’m clueless. So much has changed since that conversation. They aren’t moving on any time soon. Not when they’re so close.

“Do you believe them?” his question isn’t inherently strange. It’s the fact that he’s asking my opinion that catches me off guard. Does he genuinely want my input? Does this mean I’ve gained his trust? Not likely.

“I don’t know,” my chest is tight. “Well,” I change my answer. “No, I don’t think so.”

“You shouldn’t,” he starts to slowly pace the room. His mind is racing. There’s so much that needs to be done in so little time. If only I had just an inch of the rope, they’re tying my noose with. Then at least I’d know what tree they planning on hanging me from. “You’re expendable to them,” Bennet turns toward the bed again.  

“And not to you?”

“To me?” his tone quickly turns to something akin to amusement. “No, you’re quite expendable to me. But your father? He sees you as part of our cause.”

“He never brought it up before,” the curious part of me always wins. I have to know. Something. Anything. Even if it's completely fabricated.

“After everything, do you think he’d still lie to you?” the shadow stills and his eyes turn to slits.

“I- no,” we both know it’s a trick question.

“He said your wings will take you far and high, little bird,” for a moment, I almost hear the words in his voice. They sound like something he’d say when I was young. Like stories from lost times.

“But if it was up to you, I’d be dead already,” I shift back to our previous topic.

“Of course,” he says like it is obvious. “But if you stick with 141, they’ll do it for me. You’re useless to them after the exchange. Nothing more than collateral. Even you, are smart enough to know that,” am I though? Hasn’t some hopeful part of me genuinely believed I might actually survive this mess?

“It’s crossed my mind,” my sullen voice lags with a false sense of exhaustion. Yet, I feel more alert than ever.

“Well let it cross again. Into our territory. With your family,” a deep, raspy sigh escapes his chest as he takes a step back from the bed. In the silence of the night, I can hear his scarred lungs rattle like an old pickup on its last leg. But he’s got ‘miles to go and promises to keep’. This shadow isn’t the kind of man to go back on his word. There’s a reason he’s made it to where he is today. “Think about it,” he says as his hand silently wraps around the metal handle.

The door opens and shuts without a sound. When he slips into the darkness, I know this will be the last of our witching-hour meetings. His words haunt me like the last wishes of a lost soul. There’s more truth to them than I’m brave enough to admit.

I almost mistake the soft raps against the door as one of those spirits. Haunted? Maybe. Spirits? Only of the men who’ve died at his hands. Only in the sense that his name brushes across soldiers’ lips like a curse: If you see him, you’re dead.

The knock was just a courtesy. A warning. Ghost enters the room with a large hunting knife in hand. The matt carbon blade is almost impossible to spot in the night. It’s the way his sleeved arm is held at his chest – ready to strike – that gives him away.

Just as one shadow leaves, another appears. Dressed in all black and moving as silent as an unspoken thought. The intensity of his eyes burns as they bore into holes through the darkness.

He knows Bennet is gone. That doesn’t stop him from clearing the room anyway. He reaches under the desk, pulls out the bug, and twists it apart, rendering it dysfunctional. The tiny pieces are slipped into his pocket.

No one can know he’s here.

The words he’s about to speak should never meet the air.

I haven’t had any time to process what just happened and now he’s appeared within moments to remedy an undiagnosed illness.

It feels pre-emptive. Like he knew this was going to come up. Like he’s planned for it.

“Are you okay?” His thick English accent slowly fills the space.

I’m not interested in small talk. I need to know the legitimacy behind the shadow’s words.

“How much did you hear?” I ask. The adrenaline is running low in my veins. I feel the shakes approaching behind me like an unwanted guest at a house party. Creeping and on the verge of cutting into our conversation.

“All of it,” Ghost crosses the room to my bed. He hovers at the edge with his fists clenched at his sides. His trigger finger twitches, expecting confrontation. I stand from my seated position, but he still towers over me.

“Is it true? Did you try to take my mom?” this conversation feels borderline repetitive of everything that went down in the cabin. Every time I think all the details are out in the open and he’s finally being honest with me, I’m proven wrong.

And every time, the Ultranationalists pick at my healing scabs, causing streaks of blood to smear across my fragile skin. It’s an ugly look. One that lacks patience and self-control.

“Affirmative,” the resignation in his voice is concrete. Ghost doesn’t even try to hide it. What else is he leaving out?

“You’re a fucking asshole,” the bitter words fire in his direction. I feel stupid. I feel played. As though they’re all still treating me like a child.

“Y/N,” he quietly warns. His voice refuses to move above a whisper. Who knows what ears are listening outside that door.

“No. Fuck you,” I point at him with a quivering hand. “You’ve had days – no – weeks to tell me this. Why didn’t you say anything, Simon?”

“It was classified,” he automatically responds.

“You’re so full of it,” I cross my arms and fist my hands. I’d be smart to shut my mouth for the rest of my time here. I’d be smart to do a lot of things differently than I have. Yet that’s not an option. “What else are you keeping from me?”

A deep sigh pushes through the black ski mask. One that’s no longer worried, but hinting at frustration. The pause before he speaks is long and filled with words that’ll never see the light of day. “You know I can’t answer that.”

“You can,” I urge.

“I can’t. That’s the nature of my job – of my life, y/n,” I can feel the heat of his chest as he steps closer. “There will always be secrets. The things I know are worth killing over.”

“But if it’s about me, I deserve to know,” I push harder. Surely, he has to understand where I’m coming from.

“Just drop it,” the coldness to his voice is usually reserved for lower-ranking soldiers. I feel it nip at my skin and travel through my bones in an unnerving kind of way. Yet I can’t drop it. Not when it’s my life at stake.

“You can’t come here and expect me to ‘just drop it’ Simon. You came here. I didn’t ask for help,” the annoyance is audible in my voice. “I deserve to know. What is it? Do they really plan on killing me?”

“Of course not,” he scoffs. Ok. So that much is the truth. At least to him.

“What, then?” my brows furrow as my chest impatiently heaves. Why did he bother showing up if all he’s going to do is shut me out?

Simon reaches for a strand of hair, but I duck away from his grasp. The gloved hand falters, before falling back at his side. I know I’ve struck a nerve when his shoulders stiffen and the heel of his boot shifts half an inch back.

“I wanted to make sure you were safe,” the rejection turns his voice stoic. “Goodnight y/n.”

As Ghost turns and heads for the door, he tightly grasps the knife at his side. I consider biting my tongue, but that’s never something I’ve excelled at. “Leaving me in the dark is far from keeping me safe.”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” Simon looks back as he grasps the handle. There’s a glint so faint it’s almost hard to spot behind his eyes. For a moment he almost doesn’t look real. “You’re safer hidden in the shadows. There’s no going back once you’re exposed to the light.”

He doesn’t wait for my response. I don’t have one to give.

As Ghost leaves the room, I’m left with a sinking feeling in my stomach.

It fades for a while as the hours drag and I drift into a strange type of sleep. Yet, the feeling returns when my door opens in the morning. When I see his face I know today is the day. They can’t afford to wait any longer. The Ultranationalists are ready. 141 is ready.

It isn’t Soap or Ghost or some other foot soldier who’s come to retrieve me: it’s Captain Price.

[marvelstoriesepic]

Learn his way

Pairing: College!Bucky x College!Tutor!Reader

Summary: Bucky is more interested in learning about you than biology

Word count: 1.5k

Warnings: none; just fluff and flirty Bucky

author‘s note: I love College!Bucky so much! This was fun :)

Masterlist

“Barnes!” You sent the guy sitting right beside you - somehow moving closer to you every single one of your sessions - your signature glare, not the first one that day. “Biology!” you scolded, nodding at the textbook lying in front of Bucky and you. His pen had been poked in your side more times than you’d be willing to count.

“Oh come on doll, we’ve been talking about biology since-” He took a quick glance at his phone lying beside him, “25 minutes. We only have another 20 so let’s talk about you.” He leaned back in his chair and put his hand on the back of your seat, clearly done with learning about the evolution of organisms. He locked his eyes on you, a playful smirk on his lips.

You groaned, rolling your eyes at him, as his smirk only grew, the corners of his mouth pulling up in his cheeks.

“We’re not here to talk about me Barnes, I’m trying to help you here.” You don’t know why you were even trying at this point. The textbook was still staring at you, unused for probably the rest of this session.

Bucky's phone, still lingering on the table in front of you, lit up with messages every few minutes, though he didn’t pay it any mind. His gaze set on you, biting his lip.

“You are helping doll,” he sounded strangely sincere and you narrowed your eyes at him. “But I hate that I know more about biology than you by now.”

You snorted to which he lifted a brow, mocking offense. “You should know more about biology than me though. Knowing me won’t help you pass the exam.” You now leaned back as well, folding your arms over your chest and holding his gaze.

Bucky straightened up, not holding back his smirk, amusement gleaming in his eyes beside something else you couldn’t quite place. A softness in his expression that didn’t really make sense to you.

“Tell you what,” he started and replaced his hand on the backrest of your chair, moving it further up. You could feel it touching your back. “For every right question about biology, you give me a fact of yourself.”

You roll your eyes again, breathing out a sigh. “Alright,” you nod reluctantly, “Fine.” You grabbed your textbook and browsed through the pages, trying to decide what to ask him.

He moved both his arms to his chest, crossing them in the front, and turned his body to you completely, his whole attention focused solely on you. He watched you intently searching through the pages, a soft smile on his lips.

You seemed to have found something because you lowered the textbook and looked back at him, a challenging smile forming on your lips.

“Nitrogen-fixing bacteria and cowpea demonstrate an ecological association known as-” You looked at him raising an eyebrow to indicate he was supposed to finish the sentence, grinning sweetly.

He looked at you a few seconds longer before knocking his head back followed by an overly exaggerated groan. “Come on now doll that’s an unfair one,” he exclaimed, the corners of his mouth still twitching upwards, despite his protests.

“You want to know something about me, you gotta earn it Barnes.” You tilted your head, grinning widely back at him.

Bucky stared back at you for a few seconds but broke the eye contact breathing out a laugh. He took in a deep breath, cleared his throat, and faced you again. The smirk was back in an instant.

“Still waiting for an answer,” you sang

“Alright sweetheart, lemme think.” He clenched his jaw, and narrowed his eyes on the wall behind your shoulder, looking deep in thought.

He looked like he genuinely tried to remember what he could have known by now if he’d listened to you instead of poking his pen in your side and drawing a dog on your arm which he still claimed to be a wolf.

“Mutualism!“ he expressed after a while.

Your surprise matched his for a few seconds until his look morphed into a wide grin. Eyes sparkling, the corners of his mouth bringing up his cheeks, crinkles forming at his eyes. “That’s right, isn’t it? See doll, I learned!”

You hummed in contemplation, narrowing your eyes at him. “You cheated!”

He let out a sound of disapproval, his hand moving to his chest to lay over his heart. “You wound me doll, I would never!”

You took a deep breath in. “Alright whatever, that was right.” Looks like he did listen to you.

Bucky moved forward on his seat, one arm extending to lay over the backrest of your chair again. “Time for your part of the deal sweetheart. Tell me something about yourself”

You took a second to think of something insignificant to tell him. “I like pasta.”

He made sure to save that information in the back of his mind, already thinking about what he could do with it. There was this nice, cute pasta place he went to with his family after his sister got her driver's license and they wanted to celebrate. He’d love to take you there too since he doesn’t really get to talk to you outside of these tutor sessions because you always look so busy and stressed and he sure as hell doesn’t wanna worsen it. He was glad about anything you’d give him now that you were basically supposed to focus on him. And now that he had a small glimpse he just wanted more and more.

It continued like that. You asked him questions about biology, important for the exam in a week, and would grant him with a small fact about yourself as regards. He got more eager with every bit you gave him. Even if it was as simple as your favorite color. He knew exactly which sweater he’d wear the next session with you.

You told him about how you preferred cactuses because they didn’t require to get watered every day. You’d just forget. You shared a laugh after that. Bucky again taking notes in his head.

You told him about how you loved to read worn-out and used books because they already told a story themselves. You were a little sheepish after telling him that and he found it endearing. Fondness laced his features. He felt the sudden urge to search his grandparent's bookshelf for a book of your liking to gift to you. His grandparents surely wouldn’t notice but he assumed it’d be a little too early in your relationship - whatever it was - to give you a gift like that.

Spurred on by all the new things he found out about you and the small bond he felt arise, there was a spurt of confidence coming up within him. He reached out to brush the strands of your hair back behind your shoulder that had fallen in front of your face while leaning over the textbook. You looked up at him at the movement, eyes locked on one another.

“Give me another question doll,” he spoke slowly, a little nervous, his voice lower than before. His hand, still in your hair behind your shoulder slowly moved away, back against your chair. His gaze remained locked on yours. “And if I get this one right as well you gotta go out with me. What do you say?”

His gaze was careful, searching your face for a reaction. You couldn’t help the surprise etching on your features, eyebrows lifting. You sat up straight and looked away from him trying to formulate an answer, mouth opening and closing again.

“You don’t have to doll! You could just tell me something about yourself again. Anything really, I’m happy with tha-”

“Bucky!” you cut off his nervous rambling, sensing how tense he became. His arm brushed your back lightly with the way he shifted on his seat. Not wanting to see that troubled look on his face any longer you continued talking again. “I’d like that.”

Eyes growing wide, he let out a breathy laugh. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You smiled back at him.

A new sort of energy surged through him and he rubbed his hands together before steadying himself on the table with one hand and on his chair with the other. He took a deep exaggerated breath and turned to you, feigning a serious expression though his eyes kept sparkling, betraying his act.

You let out a laugh and again searched for something to test him with. However, if you were being honest with yourself, you asked him something you were certain of him already knowing. Based on the sly smirk on his lips and the seconds he took to study you before providing you with an answer - the right one - he noticed. But he didn’t complain. And neither did you.

Guess he would be seeing you outside of your tutor sessions after all.

“The little things? The little moments? - They aren’t little”

- John Zabat-Zinn

[arminsumi]

no. 20 sfw with aki? just littering him with kisses before he steps out for work, not wanting to be separated <333

he has a whole house in my head, truly living rent free rn

#20

💗 Aki アキ

Note : my boy!! he is also on my mind lately and i itch to write for him but i always get distracted!! 😖 i hope u likey, i had this very specific atmosphere envisioned and i wonder if it came across lol

Playme : will i see you again?

🍒 More from Jay : LIBRARY / oct. reqs open

A smooth morning rolls out. Aki makes you and him some good coffee, slowly and meticulously as he always does it.

He finds you're behaving especially dreamy this morning; it makes leaving for work so much harder for him.

Aki carries out his morning routine with purposeful slowness, adoring how you follow at his side through each step. It's the small things that make him fall more and more in love with you, like the hypocritical scolding you give him about smoking and then proceeding to take a puff on his cigarette on the balcony. Or helping him tie his tie even though he can certainly do it himself. He just enjoys the small act of bending his knees to compensate for the height gap between you and him, being the 6'2 gangling giant he is.

He's the most talkative in the mornings, despite the rasp disturbing his throat. He tells you about his weird fucking dreams and feels fluttery that you bother to listen. ("We were in a cruise ship, right, and we couldn't escape the hallway and I was holding your hand and looking for a way out, and oh there was this octopus or something that wanted me to play sudoku...? It was some Alice in Wonderland type shit. I fucking hate sudoku, I can't believe I had to do that! And— why are you laughing? Okay well anyways... oh fuck... that's the time already?")

You swarm him with affection and kisses from the bedroom to the door as he tries to leave for work. His natural nonchalant demeanor betrays his true inner feelings, he's really relishing your attention.

You overwhelm his face with kisses and he happily accepts, closing his eyes to fully lose himself in the sensation of your lips pressing to his skin.

"I really have to go..." he says but you cut him off with a kiss.

"... I'm gonna miss the train." he holds back a smile as you cut him off yet again.

He attempts to leave, the door is open and the roar of morning traffic carries in the entering breeze.

"Wait a moment!" you pout.

You grab his tie to pull him into a hard cheek kiss, and it makes his stomach flip, to feel the press of your lips connect with his jaw and slowly upwards, as if you're printing your love on his face one kiss at a time.

It always happens like this; you pull him by the tie just as he opens the door to really leave, then he stays right there, motionless from how love struck your kisses have him. Truly a dazed man. And it's always the final cheek kiss that sets him off, he bows his head to give you those hard and passionate kisses that are his thing... no one can kiss quite like how an Aki in love does.

Kissing him off to work in the genkan chews fifteen more minutes off the morning hour, but it's worth it... he now heads down the street in the sunlight with a dreamy look on his face like he's just been pampered by a goddess.

[justwhisperingfantasies]

Anything

a continuation of Always

Characters: - Reader - Dean - Sam - Layla - Mrs. Rourke - Roy - Sue Ann- Mention of John and Joshua

Warnings: Fluff, Language, Implied Smut, Hurt Dean, Cannon Violence, Supernatural Spoilers,

A/N: So, I am really nervous about this one. Faith is in my top 3 favorite episodes of the whole series. This one is a wee bit longer. Sorry. I hope you enjoy it.

Hope y'all enjoy it.

Please don't copy my work

Like, comments and reblogs are highly appreciated

If you would like to be added to my tag list click here

Your leg muscles throbbed from the pressure you were applying to the gas pedal. Yet your car still seemed to crawl along the road. Damnit I’m not gonna make it.

You looked up to the stars. “I never asked you for anything. I hunt monsters. I save people. He saves people. He’s a good fucking person. You can’t let him die. You hear me? Please don’t let him die.”

“Sam.” you said as you flipped open your phone and held it to your ear. “What’s going on? Is he?”

“No. He’s alive. We just got to the hospital. They just took him. How far away are you?”

“Maybe 20 minutes. 10 if I run some red lights.”

“[Y/n] we don’t need you getting hurt too.” He tried to hide it with a cough but you the sniffle “please be careful. “

“Always.” Your automatic response sent a sharp pain through your chest.

You leaned your back against the door to his room, staring at the calming painting hanging in the hallway, trying to find the courage to face what was on the other side.

“You love me.” He chuckled as you let out a hefty sigh.  He raised his head and rested his chin on your chest. You cracked your eyes open a bit, catching a glimpse of his bright green eyes. “You know I love you too, right?"

“I know.”

He gazed at you, a look of bewilderment crossing his face. “You know?!”

“Dean you tell me all the time, how I’m your best friend, you’re always telling me to be careful, you worry about me. I know you love me.”

He chuckled. “No sweetheart, I’m in love with you.”

You remember how your heart skipped at that moment. He slowly made his way up your body, his lips drawing closer to yours. You placed a hand on his chest, stopping him right before he got to his destination. ““If we cross this line, there’s no going back, Dean.”

He closed the gap between your lips and firmly placed his on yours. Your hand sliding upward, wrapping around his neck, pulling him closer. The fire ran through your veins as he stroked his tongue against yours. His kisses grew needy, hungry like he couldn’t get enough of you.

Heavy pants filled the room as the desire intensified between you. Your fingers grazed the bottom of his shirt, lifting it gently to his chest, he broke the kiss and swiftly removed it. A smile on his lips as you admired the definition of his shoulder muscles. “Like what you see?”

“Eh, they’re alright.”

“That drool on your chin says otherwise” He murmured softly, lowering his head to place gentle kisses along your neck.

“[y/n]!” Sam’s voice pulled you out of your memory. You turned and headed in his direction.   

“Hey Sam. Have you heard anything?”

“No, I just got done talking to the cops and paying for his treatments.” You rolled your eyes. “They are just doing their jobs.” Sam glanced over your shoulder. “Hey Doc.” You pivoted and stood next to Sam. The doctor shifted his gaze to you then back to Sam. “His fiancée.” You gave a nod, going along with his lie.

“How is he?” your voice cracked.

“He's resting.” The doctor replied

“And?” Sam asked.

“The electrocution triggered a heart attack. Pretty massive, I'm afraid. His heart...it's damaged.” You felt a wave of emotion as tears started to gather in your eyes.

“How damaged?” you managed to keep you voice normal

“We've done all we can. We can try and keep him comfortable at this point. But I'd give him a couple weeks, at most, maybe a month.”

“No, no. There's, there's... gotta be something you can do, some kind of treatment.” Sam argued.

“We can't work miracles. I really am sorry.”

The reality hits you. “He’s not going to make it…”  You blinked, letting the tears flow freely down your cheeks.

“There’s my girl.” Dean said as you walked in, Sam following behind you.  His strained voice weighed heavily on your heart. Your eyes brimming with tears as they met his gaze. He appeared so frail and unwell. You had Dean in rough shape before, this was something entirely different. You and Sam stopped at the foot of his bed.

“We talked to your doctor.” Sam told him.

“Ok, So where are we doing the fight for the Impala?” Dean gestured to you and Sam. “Whoever gets it, better take care of it or I’ll haunt them.”

You scoffed. “That’s not funny.”

“Oh, come on, it's a little funny.”

“Dean.” Sam whimpered.

“Look, we all know how dangerous this gig can be. I drew the short straw. That's it, end of story.”

“Don't talk like that, alright? We still have options.” Sam asserted.

“What options? Yeah, burial or cremation. And I know it's not easy. But I'm gonna die. And you can't stop it.”

“Watch me.” Sam stormed out.

You sighed and rubbed your forehead, he reached out his arm, inviting you to lie down beside him. You walked over and sat in the chair beside his bed. He raised his eyebrows, grabbing your hand he pulled. “Get your ass over here.” You laid beside him. resting your head on his shoulder too scared to lay it on his chest.

“Tell me if I hurt you.”

He kissed your forehead. “You ain’t gonna hurt me baby.”

You walked up to Sam’s motel door and knocked. He opened the door slowly. “Hey, I thought you’d stay at the hospital.” He stepped back, opening the door all the way.

“Yea I got kicked out.” you said as you walked over and started looking at the papers Sam had laid all over the bed. “Did you call John?”

“I did. I got his voicemail. Big surprise.”

You sighed. “Find anything yet?”

“Actually.” There was another knock on the door. You looked at each other in confusion

Sam walked over to the door and opened it. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“Checked myself out.” Dean said stepping into the room and leaning against the dresser. “I’m not gonna die in a hospital that kicks out my fiancée.” He gave you a weak grin. You shook your head. Sam helped him sit in the armchair.

“So, I was just about to tell [y/n] I called everyone in dad’s journal.”

“For what?”

“For a way to help you. One of his friends, Joshua, called me back. Told me about a specialist in Nebraska.”

“You’re not gonna let me die in peace, are you?”

“You’re not gonna die period. We are going.” You said sternly

Sam drives the Impala drives up a bumpy gravel path, to a sprawling white circus tent pitched in the middle of a field. Dean looks over to a sign that reads The Church of Roy LeGrange. “You guys are fucking liars!”  You and Sam jump out of the house and hurry to help Dean. “This ain’t no damn doctor.”

“Technically I said specialist.” Sam grabbed Dean’s arms “Let me help you”

“I got it.” Dean said batting away his arm “A freaking faith healer, really guys?”  He grabbed your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. “Can’t believe you brought me here to see some guy who heals people out of a tent.”

“Reverend LeGrange is a great man.” An elderly women yelled at Dean as she passed.

“Yeah, that’s nice.”

“Baby, this guy is supposed to be the real deal, can you please just shut up and give it a chance.” You gave him your best puppy dog eyes.

He gave you a small smirk. “Alright, for you.” The three of you continued walking to the tent.

“Dean, how can you be a skeptic? With the things we see every day?” Sam asked him as you continued walking toward the tent.

“Exactly. We see them, we know there real.”

“But if you know evil’s out there, how can you not believe good’s out there, too?” You asked.

“Because I’ve seen what evil does to good people.” He remarked. “And you guys can stop ganging up on me now.”

“Maybe God works in mysterious ways.” A young blonde said overhearing the conversation

“Maybe he does. I’m Dean, this is [y/n]” he said raising your hands. You smiled at her. “This is Sam.” He said pointing at Sam with his other hand.

“Layla. So, if you’re not a believer, then why are you.  here?”

“Well, apparently they believe enough for me.”

“Come on, Layla. It’s about to start.” An older women walked up and putting her arm around Layla

The three of you walked into the tent. Dean walked over to the last row and started to sit. “Dean please. There’s 3 up front. Come on.” He sighed and followed you.

“Each morning, my wife, Sue Ann,” Roy began his service.  “Reads me the news. Never seems good, does it?” he says as he steps up to the little podium. The room fills with echoes of no as the crowd agrees with him “Seems like there’s always someone committing some immoral, unspeakable act.” Roy continues with his service “But, I say to you, God is watching.” You hear a mixture of Yes, he is, and amen, as they crowd agrees with him again. “God rewards the good, and He punishes the corrupt.”  The agreements get louder, as almost everyone says amen or hallelujah, Roy continues “It is the Lord who does the healing here friends. The Lord who guides me in choosing who to heal by helping me see into people’s hearts.”

“Yeah, and into their wallets.” Dean whispers

“Shh” You whispered back.

“You think so, young man?” Roy asked

Silence falls over the tent.

Your jaw clenched in frustration. Dean cleared his throat. “Uh Sorry.” He said in a shaky voice.

“No, no. Don’t be. Just watch what you say around a blind man, we’ve got real sharp ears.” Almost everyone laughed. “What’s your name, son?”

“Um, Dean.” The nervousness lingered in his voice.

“Dean.” Roy nods with a grin on his face.  “I want, I would you to come up here with me.”

The crowd was cheering. You hear the older woman with Layla whisper to her “seriously?!”

Sue Ann moves to center stage, gestures for Dean to come up while smiling.

“No, it’s ok.” Dean told them

“What are you doing?!” Sam asked him

“You’ve come here to be healed, haven’t cha?” Roy asked

 “Well, yeah,” the crowd starts the cheer. Dean stats on his seat and waited for the noise to settle. “Um. maybe you should just pick someone else.”

“Seriously Dean?” You sneered, annoyed.

“Oh, no. I didn’t pick you, Dean, the Lord did.” Roy declared.

“Please,” you begged “You told me you would give it a chance.”

He took a deep breath. “For you” he stood up and everyone started cheering.

Sue Ann walks Dean over to Roy. You see their mouths moving. “Pray with me friends.” Roy instructs as he raised one hand and puts the other one on Dean’s shoulder. All the hands in the audience raise, except yours, Sam's and the lady with Layla.

Roy moves his hand from Dean’s shoulder to the side of his head. “Alright now. Alright now.”  You and Sam jump up to your feet as Dean falls to his knees, Roy keeps his hand in place. “Alright now” Roy says again.

“Dean!” You and Sam yell as Dean collapses to the stage floor, you both run to him.

 The crowd is clapping excitedly.

Sam’s fingers grasp the front of Dean’s hoodie shaking him furiously. Finally, Dean’s eyes burst open as he gasps.

“Say Something!” Sam demands.

Dean blinking like his vision is still hazy as he gazes upward. Above him stands Roy, arms extended outward, palms facing up, a broad smile lighting up his face. Dean stares behind Roy, a look of disbelief etched on his face.

You lay on your back, your heart pounding and breaths coming in rapid bursts, gazing into Dean's eyes as his face hovered above yours.

"Wow," you breathed out, astonished.

He raised his eyebrows with a smile. “Told you I was ok.”

“I don’t know, I might be more convincing.” He laughed and rolled on his back beside you, He wrapped his arm around you, drawing you closer to him. you laid your head on his chest. “So, what was it like?”

“Mind blowing.”

“Really?”

“Well yeah babe. Our sex has always been great.” He chuckled as you let out a hefty sigh.

“You know what I meant Winchester.”

 “I don’t wanna talk about it.”

 You lifted your head and turned to look at him. His face was hard. “What’s wrong?” he shook his head. “Dean.” You pleaded.

“I don’t know. It was weird.” He sighed. “I felt cold. Something just felt off, felt wrong. When I think about it, I just get a bad feeling. Like there’s something more to it.” he looked up to the ceiling. “And the doctor mentioned something about a 27-year-old athlete that died of a heart attack.” He lipped his lips. “I’ve been trying, but I can’t sway myself into believe it was just a coincidence.”

You planted a swift kiss on his lips. “Alright, Let’s go.”

“Where?”

“To explain this all to Sam, and then we can go check it out.”

“So how long you been together?” Roy asked as he sat down in the armchair across from the couch you and Dean were sitting on, in the LeGranges' living room.

“I’ve known her most of my life.” Dean looked at you , taking your hand in his. “Our dads worked together. There were many nights we got stuck babysitting my little brother together. Guess it all started there.”

“Well, the two of you make a stunning couple”

You smiled, “Thanks.”

“So how are you feeling Dean?” Roy asked.

“I feel great. Just trying to, you know, make sense of what happened.” Dean denoted.

“A miracle is what happened, but miracles come so often around Roy.” Sue Ann said as she handed you both a glass of tea. You both nodded thanks.  

“When did they start? The miracles.” Dean inquired.

“Woke up one morning, stone blind. Doctors figured out I had cancer. Told me I had maybe a month.” He explained fidgeting. “So, uh we prayed for a miracle. I was weak, but I told Sue Ann, to just keep right on praying. I went into a coma. Doctors said I wouldn't wake up, but I did. And the cancer was gone.” Roy took off his sunglasses revealing his glassy white eyes. “If it wasn't for these eyes, no one would believe I'd ever had it.”

“And you could heal people?” you asked.

“I discovered it afterward, yes. God has blessed me in many ways.”

“And his flock just swelled overnight. And this is just the beginning.” Sue Ann added with a proud smile on her face.

“Mind if I ask you one last question?” Dean asked looking down

“Of course not.”

Dean licked his lips, a hint of uncertainty in his voice as he asked, “Why me? Out of all the sick people, why save me?” You gently squeezed his hand, offering him a sense of reassurance.

“Well, like I said before, the Lord guides me.” Roy took a drink of his tea. “I looked into your heart, and you just stood out from all the rest.”

“What did you see in my heart?”

“A young man with an important purpose. A job to do. And it isn't finished.”

As Sue Ann Ushers you out the door, Layla and her mother are waiting to go in.

“I’m sorry Layla the reverend is resting right now. He won’t be seeing anyone else today.” Sue Ann says with sympathy

“Sue Ann, please. This is our sixth time; he's got to see us.” Layla’s mother pleads.

“Hey, I’m gonna go start the car.” You whisper to Dean excusing yourself from the awkward situation. With a nod he squeezes your hand then releases it.

“She really said that to you?” You asked as you entered the motel.

“Yea, I'm kinda glad you went to the car. Couldn’t have you throwing punches on a reverend's porch.” He laughed as he threw his keys on the table.

“Well, it sounds like you two had an interesting day.” Sam said looking up from his laptop.

“Very. What'd you find out?” Dean asked Taking off his jacket and hanging it on a chair.

“Dean. I'm sorry.” Sam whimpered barely above a whisper.

“Sorry about what?”

“Marshall Hall died at 4:17.”

“Let me guess” you said grabbing a bottle of water. “The exact time Dean was healed.” You sighed as Sam nodded.

 “So, I put together a list of everyone Roy's healed, six people over the past year, and I cross-checked them with the local obits.” Sam handed Dean a stack of paper.  “Every time someone was healed, someone else died. And each time, the victim died of the same symptom LeGrange was healing at the time.” sense of sorrow in his voice.

“Wait, wait, wait. So, Marshall Hall died to save me?”

“Dean, the guy probably would've died anyway. And someone else would've been healed.” Sam tried to comfort him.

“You guys never should've brought me here.”

“Dean, we were just trying to save you.” You chimed in.

“But now some guy is fucking dead now because of me.” Dean exclaimed with frustration.

“We didn't know, Dean.” Sam rubbed his temples.  “The thing I don't understand is how is Roy doing it? How's he trading a life for a life?”

“Oh, he's not doing it. Something else is doing it for him.” Dean declared.

“What do you mean?” Sam questioned.

“The old man I saw on stage.” Dean said. Your eyebrows furrowed. He didn’t tell you that part. “I didn't wanna believe it, but deep down I knew.”

“You don’t think it’s a.”

“Yes, I do” Dean cut you off as he glanced at you.

“What are you guys talking about?” Sam asked

“There's only one thing that can give and take life like that.” Sam looked at Dean, still confused.

” It’s a reaper.” You murmured. Dean nodded,

“You really think it's THE Grim Reaper?” Sam asked typing on his laptop.

“No Sam, not THE reaper, A reaper.” You told him.

“There's reaper law in pretty much every culture on earth, it's possible that there's more than one of them.” Dean said looking through lore pages. “The question is how is Roy controlling the damn thing?”

“That cross.” Sam

“What?” Dean

“There was this cross, I knew looked familiar.” Sam looks through some papers and holds a card up, “This.”

“A Tarot?” Dean asked, taking the card from Sam, he looked at it then showed it to you.  

“It makes sense. A tarot dates to the early Christian era right, when some priests were still dabbling in magic.” You noted. Dean tilted his head with a pondering expression.

“And a few of them veered into the dark stuff. Necromancy and how to push death away, how to cause it?” Sam added

“So, Roy's using black magic to bind the reaper?” Dean

“If so. He’s riding the whirlwind. It's like putting a dog leash on a great white.” Sam

“Ok then we stop Roy.” Dean announced as he got up and put his coffee mug in the sink. Leaning on the counter behind you.

“How?” Sam asked

“You know how.”

“Dean, we can't kill him.” You proclaim, turning around to face him.

“Babe, he’s playing God, deciding who lives and who dies. That's a monster in my book.”

“No. We do that we're no better than he is.” Sam

“Ok, we can’t kill Roy, we can't kill death. Any other bright ideas?” Dean said with a bit of sass.

“We gotta figure out how he’s doing it and how to break it.” Sam stated.

The Impala jolts along the rough, gravel-strewn road again. Dean did his best to dodge the potholes, passing a sign that says service today.

“If Roy's using a spell, there might be a spell book.” Sam said as you guys got out of the car.

“See if you can find it.” He looked at his watch, “You gotta hurry though, the service starts in fifteen minutes. We’ll try to stall” Dean takes your hand, and you head for the tent while Sam heads toward the house.

You and dean mosey up and down the aisles on opposite sides of the tent. You hear a cell phone ring and look up to see Dean putting his to his ear. He talks for a few seconds and then holds the flyer that the protestor in the parking lot gave him and mouths the words He’s next. He points at you then the opening on the tent. He them mouths be careful; you nod mouthing back always and go search for the man.

You go out to the parking lot, bobbing and weaving through cars, finding Sam. You throw your hands up in frustration. “Keep looking [y/n]” Sam yells, you continue in the direction you were going.

“HELP.” You turn searching for where the voice was coming from. “HELP ME PLEASE! HELP ME!” you figure out the direction and start running. You pass a bus to see Sam and the man running like they are being chased, you look toward the tent as you hear the commotion. You see Roy and his followers exiting the tent. You look back to Sam and the man still running frantically.

“Yea?” Dean answered his phone.

“Dean. It didn’t work the reaper is still after him.” the man falls to his knees. “I saw Roy. He’s not doing it; it must be someone else”

“Its Sue Ann”

 You see Sam helping the man up and he doesn’t look frightened anymore. You sigh in relief. “I think he’s ok.”  Then you hear Sue Ann yelling help through the phone.

“So, Roy really believes.” Sam asked sitting on his motel bed.

“I don't think he has any idea what his wife's doing.” Dean said between the beds.

“Well, I found this.” Sam said handing a book to Dean. “Hidden in their library. It's ancient. Written by a priest who went dark side. There's a binding spell in here for trapping a reaper.”

“Must be a hell of a spell.” You said sitting on the other bed.

“Yeah. You gotta build a black altar with seriously dark stuff. Bones, human blood. To cross a line like that, a preacher’s wife. Black magic. Murder. Evil”

“Desperate. Her husband was dying,” Dean looked to you “she would have done anything to save the person she loves.” His gaze locked onto yours as he spoke, and his words made your heart flutter. A smirk on his face as you exhaled sharply, trying to compose yourself.

 “Yeah, but Roy's alive, so why is she still using the spell?”

“To force the reaper to kill people she thinks are immoral.” Sam informed. “We gotta break that spell.”

Dean rifled through the pages on the table. Finding the picture of the cross he said. “You know Sue Ann had a Coptic cross like this. As soon as she dropped it, the guy was ok.”

“So, you think we gotta find the cross or destroy the alter?” Sam asked

“Maybe both?” you suggested

“Whatever we do we better do it soon, he's healing Layla tonight.” Dean said

“That's Layla's car. She's already here.” Sam says as Dean pulls the impala in the drive.

Dean nods with a grim expression “You know she's gonna die in a couple of months.”

“You said it yourself Dean, you can't play God.” Sam says with compassion

Dean looks to you. You press your lips in a hard line. “He’s right Dean, I’m sorry.”

The three of you approach the tent and peek inside. Roy is speaking to a small group, including Layla and her mother.

“Gather round, please everyone” Roy says.

“Where's Sue Ann?” Dean asked.

“House.” Sam guessed.

“You guys go find Sue Ann; I'll catch up.” Dean says pushing you and Sam into the shadows. As two cops walk down the stairs, Dean yells. “Hey!” they look at him. “You gonna put that fear of god in me?” He takes off running and they chase after him.

As soon as they're gone you and Sam run up the stairs and check around the house. It’s completely dark. “Look” Sam whispers, pointing at the light emerging from the cracks of the outside basement entrance. “I’ll go check it out. You see if you can get in the house.” You nod. Sam moves toward the basement entrance, opens the doors and slips inside.

As you search the house you hear the cellar door slam. You look out the window to see Sue Ann locking the doors. Sam banging on them trying to get out. You make your way quickly to the cellar doors, but Sue Ann is nowhere to be found. “Sam?” You whispered. pulled the pipe out of the door handles and swung them open. “Sammy!”

He emerged from the shadows. “Bout time.”

You and Sam ran over to the tent. You see Sue Ann holding up the cross while reciting something. You and Sam start to run in her direction. “Sam, destroy the cross, I’ll find Dean.” He nods as he continues to run toward her.

As you weave through the parked cars you hear a loud wail in the distance. You froze in place. “Dean?!” you yelled at the top of your lungs, getting no response you began to search again.  You hear another wail. You turn around to see Dean on his knees in the driveway. “Dean.” Speak softly with trepidation. Your legs jolt to life. Pushing into the ground as hard as you can, you finally make it to him. He’s gasping for air with glazed over eyes. You tackle him, pushing him onto his back. You rise to your knees facing the same direction Dean was seconds ago.  “Not him. Take me instead.” Nothing happens. Dean is still unable to breathe. “Come on you son of a bitch. Not him!” You shouted in anger. With one big last gasp dean’s breathing returns to normal. Anticipation hits you like a joke of lightning as you wait for the reaper to appear, but he doesn’t.

“[y/n]”

“Sam did it he destroyed the cross.” You say helping Dean to his feet.

“You guys, ok?” Sam asked as you approached the Impala.

“Hell of a week.” Dean said, shaking his head.

“We should get going.” You said as you opened the back door.

Dean’s pov

He couldn’t take his eyes off her, sitting on the trunk of his car, in that leather jacket, hair blowing in the wind. She was gorgeous inside and out. Crazy thing was she loved him, him of all people. She loved him enough to give her life just to save him.  He opened the door and threw his duffle on the back floorboard.

“Whatcha starin’ at Winchester?”

“Just the prettiest girl in the world.”

“Kiss ass.” She said with a smile.

He laughed softly as he moved between her legs, wrapping her waist with his arms. “Listen,” he said, resting his forehead against hers. “I never want you to think about trading your life.”

“Dean.” She cut him off. “Save your breathe. I don’t care how mad you get, how loud you yell, or how many days you stay pissed off at me. I would do anything to save your life.”

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[kingdomofnoah]

mine all mine

noah sebastian x afab! reader

a/n: ayoooo! sorry for posting like one fic and then dipping for a while. he’s a smutty lil blurb for y’all’s enjoyment, idk why i spent 20 minutes making a header for it and named it after a mitski song leave me alone ok

anyway. warnings under the cut.

──⭒─⭑─⭒────⭒─⭑─⭒──

warnings: penetrative sex, unprotected penetrative sex, some light choking if you squint, swearing, dirty talk. that’s it i suppose

──⭒─⭑─⭒────⭒─⭑─⭒──

You’re trying desperately to catch your breath, but it’s stolen with every slam of Noah’s hips hard against yours. He traces his calloused fingers down your spine, your skin a bit tacky with sweat before he lands a harsh smack to your backside. Your gasp melts into a moan that makes him laugh behind you, his fingers gripping onto both of your hips and pulling you backward to meet his own. Your back arches, lifting your ass higher and allowing him to sink even deeper with every thrust. “Fuck, baby, this pussy was made for me. She’s all mine, huh? Tell me who this pussy belongs to.” You’re still breathless, your jaw slack as Noah continues his practically punishing pace. When you don’t answer though, he lands another smack to your ass and growls out, “I asked you a question, who does this pussy belong to?”

You cry out and scrabble at the sheets with your nails, sobbing out, “Yours! Fuck, Noah, it’s yours!” You would say anything to keep him inside of you at this moment, the dizzying mixture of pleasure and pain so sweet and addictive. A groan escapes him at your declaration, an uninhibited sound that shows you he’s just as desperate to stay inside of you as you are to keep him there.

Grabbing a fistful of your hair and the nape of your neck, Noah pulls you upward onto your knees so that your back is flush with his chest. The act changes the angle again, forcing Noah to thrust his hips upward against your ass. You nearly fall forward onto the bed again, but Noah’s tattooed hand wraps loosely around your throat, keeping you pressed back against his broad chest. You reach back to tangle your fingers in his hair, tugging at the roots to bring his face to yours. The angle of the kiss is almost uncomfortable for both of you, but it’s so desperate and wanton that neither of you care about the twinges of pain in your necks.

His pace is becoming irregular, a sure sign that he’s reaching his end. He knows this and uses his free hand to slide it down the tacky skin of your stomach and between your legs, swirling his middle digit around your aching clit. You whine wordlessly into the kiss and he curses against your lips, mumbling out sweet little praises into your mouth. Within mere moments, you’re hurtling toward the edge and fully willing to throw yourself into bliss. Noah can tell, somehow he always can, and he keeps the steady pace of both his thrusts and the swirls of his finger. He pulls his mouth from yours, eyes fluttering at your whimper at the separation, and tightens the hand wrapped around your throat. Groaning out a curse and your name, Noah’s hips falter as he grinds out, “You gonna cum? That’s it sweet girl, cum on it. Want it so fucking bad.” The term of endearment and the command is all you need, you cry out Noah’s name and throw yourself into the pulsing waves of pleasure. Noah groans again, his hand flexing on your throat and then his thrusts falter one final time, before he pulls out and spills across your backside. “Fuck, baby.” Noah laughs breathlessly, releasing your throat but letting his hand slide down to your sternum, keeping you upright still.

You’re boneless, you would collapse into a heap on the sheets if Noah wasn’t holding onto you so tightly, and you’re still reeling with ecstasy. Noah presses kisses along your bare shoulder and up your neck, his lips warm and you hum happily. You feel soft fabric across your back as Noah wipes his spend from your skin and you venture to twist your torso slightly to face him. His eyes are bleary, sleepy already, and you peck his lips with a kiss and murmur, “I love you.” The words are a bit slurred and you both giggle at your expense.

“My girl’s a lil cock drunk is she? Mmm, god I want you again already.” Indeed, you feel him twitch against your ass and you laugh, turn to face him fully, and cup his cheeks in your palms. He presses his lips to your palm, an act so tender your heart melts.

You smile and lean your forehead against his, “My big horndog, need food first, then I’ll ride you to sleep.” You promise and he grins, pecking your mouth and sliding his hands around your hips.

“Deal.”

[inmyheaddd]

gold rush - grayson hawthorne x reader

warnings: academic rivals not really to lovers/ friends to lovers, kissing, very fluffy wc: 1.7k masterlist

grayson hawthorne sat across from you in your biology class in your senior year. you’d known him—or of him—all the way through high school.

you two were practically the two top scorers in everything. 

you two would always cross paths; in class, award ceremonies, extracurriculars, anything academic-related, honestly.

but you two never really spoke though, up until now.

you always sort of hoped you’d be partnered up with him for something: an excuse to talk because you knew neither of you would speak to the other first. 

the opportunity finally arose when your biology teacher put you together for your end of semester project. 

you can’t lie, the first time you met in the library to do work was awkward. 

something about him always intrigued you, so you bit the bullet and tried to start a conversation.

his “strictly work” mode was boring, but once you two got into a flowing conversation, he quickly warmed up, and his eyes looked much more inviting than they did 20 minutes ago.

“sometimes i geniuenly can’t understand what he’s saying with that accent of his, i think we need a scottish translator in the class,” you said with a soft laugh. 

you two had been sitting in the library for around 30 minutes now, with no work done. 

you didn’t have to worry about disturbing anyone by talking, it was just you two in the whole place.

he chuckled at what you said and you felt your stomach do a backflip when you saw dimples flash for a split second. 

he had dimples. god, could he get any cuter? 

“i much preferred our teacher last year, miss hawkins”

a smile found your face, “oh my god, yes, she was the sweetest!” you put a hand on your chest, almost in awe, thinking one of the best teachers you had. 

“she’d always round up my scores and talk about students and teachers with me when i’d finish my work.” you couldn’t help but laugh at the memory of gossiping with your 30-year-old biology teacher at her desk.

“so that's what you two were always doing.” a smile stretched across his face, then he continued, tilting his head to the side slightly and furrowing his brows, “isn’t that… somewhat illegal?” 

“hey, it gave me motivation to finish early. let me live.” 

he shrugged, “i’m not telling.” he made that sound like a challenge.

“so you won’t let any underlying jealousy from me being biology student of the year get in the way?” you teased him right back.

“oh i’m not jealous, believe me.” you raised your eyebrows at that, and he spoke again with a grin. “you just told me half of it was because miss hawkins would round your grades.” 

your mouth fell open. “okay, yeah by like one percent!” you crossed your arms over your chest. “there’s no need to be rude here.” you leaned back in your chair, like you were truly appalled. 

grayson saw right through you, and after 2 seconds of staring at each other in silence with your lips twitching upwards, you two fell into a fit of laughter. 

when you two recovered, he spoke again, “you did deserve it, though. you’d be the only one answering questions in class half the time.” he said, looking in your eyes deeply, reminiscing on times that seemed so far away now. 

“don’t count yourself out, hawthorne. you were like the only person who took that class seriously.” 

“apart from you?” he finished your unsaid thought with a tiny grin on his face.

“yeah,” a smile formed on your face, “apart from me.” 

an hour later, still, with no work done, you were talking about books.

he was a nonfiction and classics reader. and you, well, you were definitely not. 

“okay, why don’t you read little women then? it’s also a classic, but it's not boring.” 

“actually, now that you mention it, i have had my eye on it for a while.” 

he said that so calmly, if only he knew how much his rating just went up in your head.

“well if you want, i could lend it to you, i have an extra copy.” you both knew he was very capable of getting his own copy, but this way, it felt like you were actually building some sort of relationship together.

“that would be nice, thankyou.” he smiled once again, and it was like your face mirrored everything he did.

you glanced down from your notebook to him and, then back to your empty notebook and laptop that was now turned off in realization.

you two hadn’t written a single word down.

he was watching you, and you tilted your head back up. “oh my god, we haven’t done a single thing.” 

it was honestly kind of funny, or maybe, everything seemed to be funny right now with grayson. you had that, airy, light, and giddy feeling. 

you were surprised you weren’t giggling at every word he said like a mad woman. 

he shrugged, humming slightly in disagreement before speaking. “i’ve gotten to know you, that’s more important to me.” 

oh. 

okay. just act normal. be chill about it.

“oh, yeah, it’s nice to get to know you too.” 

you were 99% sure your face was the colour of your red school tie.

he smiled at you, and his dimples you saw flash earlier were on full display now.

“we should get some work done, then?” he suggested, after a beat of silence and ever so slightly awkward eye contact, putting you out of your misery. 

“yeah, we probably should.” you let out a nervous chuckle.

grayson thought he made you uncomfortable with that. he’s actually known you for less than a day; how did he even let that thought slip out? he was never like this.

the next time you met in the same library, you brought your little women copy. you honestly forgot about it because you fell into conversation so quickly, but soon enough it was pinging in the back of your mind, and you told grayson.

“you really didn’t have to, thankyou.” you heard the smile in his voice as you looked through your bag to get the book. “i wanted to,” you replied, as you handed him the book. 

his gaze caught yours with a smile, and then he was flicking through the book. 

‘you annotate?” his eyes sparked with interest, and he was hoping the way he was so totally enamored with you wasn’t so obvious on the outside.

“oh,” how did you forget that you wrote inside of that copy? “yeah, nothing really special, just thoughts or whatever.” 

“that’s good, it’ll be like you’re there reading with me.” 

“yeah,” your cheeks were heating up, and then he looked down at the book in his hand before looking up and asking another question. “would you mind if i wrote in it as well?” 

oh my god. 

“no, no, of course not!” good thing you didn’t sound too eager… 

“i mean, i’d love to see what you think about it.” and if it was possible, he smiled deeper, flashing his dimples that you’ve quickly grown to love. 

once you both handed in your project, he decided to ask you out on a “celebration” date. just two friends hanging out. nothing special!

you arrived at the coffee shop 15 minutes early, only to find grayson already sitting there. 

your heart fluttered as he looked up and caught your eyes. he did a small wave, and smiled at you.

“hey,” you said as you sat down, scooting in your chair closer to the table.

“hi,” he did a once-over on you, and he realized this was the first time he was really seeing you outside of anything school related. “you look lovely,” he spoke his thoughts out loud.

“thank you,” you added, “you don’t look too bad yourself.”

he chuckled, “thank you.” 

you fell into comfortable conversation, and 20 minutes later, you were both done with your drinks. iced coffee for you, black coffee for grayson. the weather was perfect, and he suggested a little walk, you couldn’t think of a better idea. 

a waiter came to your table for the tab, and you reached in your bag. “please, let me,” grayson interjected, and gave you a look that left no room for argument.

you thanked him and smiled, leaning back into your seat as he paid, knowing damn well the only things you brought with you were your phone, gum, and lipgloss. 

as you both stepped outside, the warm sunlight bathed the streets in a golden hue. you and grayson strolled down the sidewalk, making light conversation and sharing stories. you found yourself leaning into his side, subconsciously wanting to be closer to him.

“i have to admit, i’m really enjoying little women,” he said, glancing at you with a smile. “your annotations make it even better.”

“i’m glad you like it, it’s one of my favorites.” you replied, feeling your cheeks warm again.

after a few moments of comfortable silence, grayson turned to you, looking thoughtful. “you know, i’ve really enjoyed getting to know you these past few weeks. i wish we had done this sooner.”

“yeah, me too, i've been having a lot of fun." you said softly, meeting his gaze.

grayson smiled, and his hand brushed against yours. “i’ve been meaning to ask you something,” he began, coming off as hesitant for the first time in his life. “would you like to go out on a proper date sometime?”

you heart skipped a beat, and a smile spread across your face. “i’d love that.”

relief washed over his features, and his dimples were starting to make an appearance again. “are you available this saturday?”

you felt as if your words would fail you with the excitement you felt bubbling up in your stomach, so you simply nodded, mutters a small, “yeah, i am.” with a nod.

grayson was already thinking about all the places he’d take you and what you’d enjoy; he was going to make the most out of it. 

as you continued your walk, he reached for your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. the simple gesture alone made your heart soar.

“you know,” grayson said with a playful glint in his eye, “i never got to tell you my favorite part of the book.”

“oh?” you asked, slightly curious.

“it’s the little hearts you draw next to your favorite quotes,” he confessed, a hint of a blush on his cheeks. “i think it’s endearing.”

you laughed softly. “i didn’t realize you’d notice that.”

grayson slowed down his walking, coming to a stop and looking at you. “ i notice a lot of things about you.”

you felt your heart drop, like there was a whole zoo in your stomach. you felt yourself lean in, but you barely even registered it. you hesitated, unsure of how to respond, and he gently closed the distance and kissed you, his touch soft and unexpected. it was a brief, sweet kiss that made you feel like you were floating. 

when he pulled away, you both were smiling. 

you’d never get tired of those goddamn dimples.

[swtnrcmnt]

୨୧ — jj’s confession; s.r (1)

of course the one day you decide to take a day off, your best friend confesses her love for your husband

bau!reader x husband!spencer reid

warnings: emotional cheating (kinda), fighting (kinda)

spencer didn’t tell you about what had happened that day. once he got home he wanted to forget the whole thing ever happened, so he wouldn’t have to think about choosing between waiting on jj and loving his wife.

"hey." was all he said as he walked into your shared home, hanging his satchel on the coat rack and heading straight for the bedroom, all without making any eye contact with you.

this was odd for him, as he usually greets you with a hug and kiss once he gets home and would sit with you and talk for upwards of 20 minutes before you decide to go to bed. but you just assumed it was a tough case that reminded him of you in some way, which was often the case.

it had been almost half an hour since he went into the bedroom and you were growing concerned. what could he be doing that's taking so much time. giving up on waiting, you decided to head to bed to find him already dead asleep on the bed.

the next day, he continued with the same odd behavior. all you got that morning was a "good morning" before he walked out to the kitchen as opposed to the usual forehead kiss, back hug, and cuddle.

you were about to confront him about the odd behavior when you got a call from penelope.

"hello?" penelope started frantically ranting about jj and spencer until you had to tell her to slow down. "jj said she was in love with reid. now i don't know the legitimacy of her statement because they were in a hostage situation but i talked to spencer and he was panicking saying he didn't know who to choose, i'm sorry." your heart dropped.

"um. ok, thanks for letting me know." hanging up, you paced in the bedroom for a bit thinking about what had happened.

he said he didn't love her anymore.

he said that the feelings were only temporary.

he said he loved you.

she promised she didn't like him that way.

you were too caught up in your thoughts to notice spencer walking into the room asking what was wrong. "when were you going to tell me?" you ask, assuming he knows exactly what you're talking about.

"what do you mean?" is all he says. "you know exactly what i mean spencer, jj saying she loves you? then you go to penelope saying you don't know who to choose? how about.. i don't know, your wife." he stays silent and just looks at the floor.

"say something." again, he just stares at the floor. "come on spencer don't go silent on me now. what the hell happened?"

finally, he looks into your eyes. "i'm sorry." is all he says.

"sorry doesn't do anything right now. did you mean what you said? about not knowing who to choose?" sitting down on the bed he simply looks up at you. "i don't know."

part two

[tiredmetalenthusiast]

Monsters walk at night (Monster!Price x f!reader)

Another one for @glitterypirateduck Price writing challenge!

Scenarios used, 16. ‘A Pursuit takes place’ and 44. 'A world where mates exist':

Warnings: monster fucking, NSFW, unprotected p in v, partial smut, literally getting chased down.

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

It started off as an innocent walk through the woods by the large cabin Price had rented, (seemed more like a house when you saw it), stating you all needed a break. He had distributed the rooms when you all had arrived, securing the perimeter and making sure the security cameras and alarm system worked. You remember the day clearly.

The fridge was fully stocked as were the bathrooms, all the amenities needed for a few days stay away from civilization. You walked into the kitchen getting ready to make some food, the drive there was long and you were absolutely starving. “What are ye plannin ta make and can I have some because I am famished.” You turned to find Johnny strolling into the kitchen. “Well I wasn’t offering to make dinner just looking for a snack, but it’d be a shame to have the cabin burn down.” Johnny groans from the table, “It was one time bonnie! Was nae like I was plannin on burnin the place up!” “Johnny you set the place ablaze tryin to make CUP OF SOUP!” “I was tired!”

Price walked in shaking his head as Ghost and Gaz came in behind him chuckling. Simon piped up, “So you makin food or not?” You roll your eyes, “I’ll make a steaming pile of dog shit just for you Ghost.” “Make sure it has garlic and potatoes, yeah?” After dinner was decided on, (not dog shit), everyone settled in for the night with the exception of you and John. “Fancy a walk luv? There are lights on the trails.” You think about it for a minute and nod, “Sure. Seems like a nice night, gotta walk off that meal too.” You both chuckle and walk outside, the night warm so there was no need for jackets.

You both had been walking for about 20 minutes, the scenery beautiful and calming, making small talk as the scent of Price’s cigar smoke wafts around in the night air. The light from the cigars burning tip gave Price’s already attractive features a boost, almost making him look scary in the dark of the woods. “You know, I could use a bit more exercise. Up for a chase?” You look at him confused as he takes a hit from his cigar and blows the smoke upwards, the red embers showing in his eyes.

He leans closer as you take a step back, his eyes gleaming, his teeth seeming sharper. “Run.” That was all you needed as you took off into the trees. You don’t know how long you ran before you finally heard his boots hitting the ground behind you. He was far but not by much, the sound of his boots thudding loudly, almost like he was heavier now. You had briefly stopped behind a large rock but continued when you heard his voice ring through the forest, loud and strange. “Run all you want sweetheart. I can smell you from a mile away.”

You had barely made it to a clearing when you were tackled from behind. You managed to turn over, finding Price but he looked different. Horns protruded from his head, a spiked tail swaying behind him, teeth razor sharp and eyes glowing like the flames of hell. “Caught you darling. Smelled you the second you started running. Getting chased down turn you on?” You blushed, turning your head away. Sure you had always found Price attractive, you knew he wasn’t totally human, and maybe you had some disrespectfully spicy dreams about him, so who could blame you for being turned on.

He nudged your cheek before moving to your neck, inhaling your scent. “My mate.” “What?” “You’re my mate luv. Smelled it the second you walked onto base.” “ O-oh, um I-“ “Do you accept? I may be a monster but I’m not an asshole. I’ve seen your dreams, heard your whispers.” “This isn’t a joke right? Because…I love you, have for a while and if this is some weird or cruel joke just so you can get laid it’s not funny.”

His eyes widened, stunned. “You think so low of me? That I would make a joke of something so serious?” You shake your head no and he sighs in relief. Nuzzling into your neck, he licks and groans as he tastes your flesh mixed with sweat. “Do you accept?” You nod, “Words, dearest.” “I accept.” A rumble forms in his chest as you kiss him and you both begin to undress. You had felt the bulge of him rubbing against your thigh through the talk and it had you needy.

To say he was large was an understatement as you openly stared at the size of him. “It’ll fit fine luv, no worries.” You nodded hesitantly, “Please be gentle.” He kisses you to smooth your nerves as he slowly pushes in, catching all your pretty noises in his mouth. “That’s it darling. You were made to take me.” He was only half way in but you already felt so full of him but he continued to slip inside unhindered. When his hips finally connected with your’s he left out a drawn out moan into the night air and pulled back slowly. “I hope you’re ready sweetheart, because it’s about to be a long night.” Running a hand over the obvious bulge in your skin, you clench and that’s enough to get him started.

The night is spent surrounded by the sound of his hips meeting your’s, breathy moans, the name of your captain loud on your lips and hands firmly gripping his horns for the ride. He didn’t let up until the sun had almost broken the horizon, both of you spent and newly mated.

[carolmunson]

you be the spoon, dip you in honey (older!modern!eddie)

part three of who knows how many. orange colored sky set list we finally make it to our real date at the park. dj finally doesn't have us falling in love again at trader joe's. let's do it for real this time. :) inspired by @loveshotzz older steve series: all i really want is youtw: age gappy (reader is late 20s, eddie is late thirties), brief mention of suicide, discussion about columbine, eddie puts clothing over reader's shoulders, eddie talks briefly about family trauma.

“So do you dye all your black clothes to the same depth or do you have a really good eye for color?” you ask. He peers up at you from his book, hair tied up in what looks like a pen – his grays catch the light, so does the wire on the glasses perched on his nose. His lips spread into a grin, tip of his tongue sliding over the tip of his pointy canine, “You look pretty.” 

songspiration: daylight | harry styles

He lied – it is swampy and it’s hot hot. It’s Uber to the park hot. It’s ‘can’t stand in the boiling subway’ hot. It’s thigh chafing hot. It’s ‘Why did I make a fucking icebox cake for this picnic date in the park?’ hot. You dressed as cute as you could for this weather, too sweaty for a skirt or dress, too hot to need to worry about how you’re sitting. Your cropped peasant top flutters at the sleeves when an unforgiving breeze of hot air blows past at the entrance to the park. You feel beads of sweat drip down your back and pray it doesn’t leave a mark on the gauzy cream material of your shirt. Your sandals crunch through the grass, following the pin he dropped when you told him you were on your way – suddenly the band on your high waisted shorts feels too tight. You swallow and shake your head, just a little further while the cooler with your cake swings next to you in your hand. You spot him five minutes later on a big knit blanket, snacks freshly taken out and set up prettily in their containers. His silver jewelry glints in the sun, freshly shined. He sits coolly, cross legged in black shorts, clean chucks tucked under his thighs that same damn carabiner hooked to his front belt loop. Your eyes trail upwards onto his black tank with an equally black linen short sleeve left unbuttoned, sleeves cuffed and loose against his tattooed arms. You can see a little more of his chest piece now that he’s not as covered up and it’s clear there’s very little of him that’s not inked up. 

“So do you dye all your black clothes to the same depth or do you have a really good eye for color?” you ask. He peers up at you from his book, hair tied up in what looks like a pen – his grays catch the light, so does the wire on the glasses perched on his nose. His lips spread into a grin, tip of his tongue sliding over the tip of his pointy canine, “You look pretty.” 

The hammering in your chest from his compliment makes you feel a little hotter than you were before. Eddie notices, smirking when he puts the book down to stand up and take the ice cake from you, transferring it into the Yeti cooler to the side. “Thank you for making this,” he smiles, “I’m excited for it.” "These are for you," he says sweetly, pulling a small bouquet of fresh flowers out from the cooler, "I didn't want them to wilt but now they're probably all wet." "It's actually kind of nice," you laugh, taking the cold bouquet from him. The water on the stems offering you some relief as droplets hit your toes. You sit down while he sets up your late lunch for you on a plate – he wasn’t kidding, he made bruschetta. Toasted the bread and everything. Meats, cheeses, cut up fruit, even Tajin. Was he a serial killer or something? Guys don’t actually do this, right? This is like…the witch from Hansel and Gretel energy.  "Thank you," you say, taking your plate, "For this and the flowers." "You said you thought picnic dates only happen in movies," he shrugs, "Wanted to make it nice for you."

“What book did you bring?” he asks while he pulls out two bottles of Pelligrino – the glass kind, dripping in condensation. “You’re not gonna judge me?” you ask. 

“Nah,” he grins. You reach into your bag to pull out the book, wincing when he looks at it with a quirked brow, sitting across from you. His cologne hits you, dark and leathery, woody and spicy -- you haven't smelled this one yet. Spit collects under your tongue when you see the chain peaking out from under the collar of his button down. Why is this old man so fine? “Bummer read, peach,” he laughs, taking the book from your hand, “Columbine by Dave Cullen? You wanna read about Columbine?”

“I’ve tried to get through it twice and I just never finish,” you shrug, snatching the book back, "You said you wouldn't judge me." “Probably can’t finish cause it’s a bummer,” he teases. He looks at you and the plate of food at your knees, “Go ahead, eat.” “What’re you reading?” you ask through a mouthful of cracker. 

“I’m halfway through The Two Towers,” he says, pulling the pen out of his hair and shaking it out, “I read the trilogy every summer.” “Lord of the Rings?” “Yeah,” he smiles and it lingers, it’s hard to stare at him for too long, “Also, yes – I do have a really good eye for color.” “Noted,” you nod, “Thank you for telling me. I’ll have to call you next time I wanna paint my walls or something.” “Don’t talk me up too much,” he says, leaning back and popping a mini pretzel into his mouth, “I think it’s just for matching blacks.” 

You've settled a lot after eating, both bottles of Pelligrino sitting empty on the blanket, snacks still out but the main courses fully devoured. You talked about work and he talked about clients and you both talked about how silly it was that you met at Trader Joe's because it is silly. The icebox cake stays in the cooler while you take your books out and digest. Time passes while you both read, Eddie leaning back on one arm and you laying down with your knees up. You’ve found the perfect position of the book blocking the sun from your face in a way that is still comfortable to hold it -- but the sun has moved some in the couple hours you've been at the park. “So what’s it about?” he asks after a while, “The book.” “Read the title,” you reply, turning your head to see him looking at you. “You know what I meant,” he sighs, nudging your sandaled foot with the toe of his Converse, “Don’t be so mean.” 

“It’s basically a recount of events, debunking some stuff – like the ‘Do you believe in God?’ exchange between one of the girls and Eric. Shows their journals and talks about the kind of kids they were – definitely not bullied I’ll tell you that much,” you explain. He marvels at you while you do, brown eyes raising and lowering while you yammer on.  “Was it weird for you? Like, did people think you were weird since you were into metal?” Your question brings him back to himself, away from your pretty lips and eyelashes, the way your face lights up when you talk, “There was a lot of overlap of satanic panic from the 80s – especially since graphic video games and shit were on the come up, too. I was out of high school by then but definitely got a lot of side eye for having, like, a Megadeth shirt on at work.” 

“What were you doing for work?” “I was a mechanic for a bit, started working there when I was a kid up until I left Indiana to work on music,” he reaches for another pretzel and you hold your hand out for one, already missing the bruschetta that you both destroyed in minutes. His fingers graze your palm where he places two of them, the salt bits falling onto the blanket. You take his fingers gently before he can take them away, finally close enough to read the tattoos on his knuckles. “G-W-E-N,” you spell out quietly. Your heart sinks at the realization – of course there’s some other woman, “Gwen, huh? Does she know you’re here?” “My mom?” he asks with a laugh, brows raising, “No, she died in 1990. But when I go visit her at the cemetery I’ll let her know all about it.” 

Your face burns, sitting up and letting your book fall to the wayside, “I’m sorry – that was – I’m so sorry.” “It’s okay,” he assures, noticing you haven't let go of his hand yet. His fingers delicately tracing over yours, thumb dragging softly over the heel of your palm, “The other hand is her middle name. Really lucked out on them both being four letters.” He shows you his other hand, hidden behind a few silver rings was R-O-S-E across the knuckles. You take that one too, tilting his hands to the side to look at the tattoos by his wrists and forearms, “Her full name was Gwendolyn, but obviously no one called her that. My uncle always called her Gwenny. Gwenny Rose when he was drunk – they woulda made a much better pair than her and my dad.” 

“Your dad still around?” 

“Murder-suicide,” he says quietly while your eyes take in the art all over his skin. “Jesus,” you hiss out, eyes snapping up to look into his. His face softens assuringly, lines on his face becoming less apparent, “Don’t worry about it. It’s been years and a shit ton of therapy. I’m very healed – and y’know, we all have our shit. That’s mine.” He takes your hands and flips them over, thumb now gliding over one of your gold rings, “What would you get tattooed on your knuckles?” You can feel the calloused edges of his finger tips while smoothing up to the edge of your wrist and down again like you did to him. Your throat nearly closes up with how it feels to be touched so softly like this, like you’re delicate. You shiver despite the heat when he flips them again, feathering meaningless shapes onto your palms. “Oh um,” you swallow, forgetting there was a world around you, not even noticing that clouds had blotted out the sun, “I don’t think I’d ever get my knuckles tattooed.” “Why’s that?” “I’m not a sort of rockstar like you are,” you grin. He clicks his tongue, warm hands gently circling your wrists while he shakes his head in disappointment. “So mean,” he chastises, “I’m a real rockstar, I prom – oh, shit.” A few drops come down in spits, and then a patter and before you know it the rain is coming down in sheets. You and Eddie quickly cover up the snacks in their tupperware, tossing everything haphazardly into the cooler, even the flowers. You take both books and put them in your bag while he wraps up the blanket now covered in grass and rain. You both peer at each other through squinted eyes as droplets collect on your eyelashes, his curls deflate and coil the wetter they get. “Hey um,” he starts, “You of course don’t have to, but I live pretty close by if you wanna just run to mine and dry off.” 

A familiar fear bubbles in your chest, “Uh…” “It’s okay! Let’s get out of the park and I’ll get you a car home,” he offers, hand outstretched for you to take it. You can feel the buzz between your hands when he laces fingers with you, the same electric current you felt when he held you steady at the store yesterday. He holds it strong and certain, knowing exactly where to go. You let him lead you out while the cooler drags behind him, eyes half closed as the rain hits them. You look down at your shirt as you get to an exit close to the library, completely see through now that it’s soaked. You let go of his hand when he gets his phone out, crossing your arms over your chest, already missing the buzz. “If you’re really close by I’d actually love a chance to dry off,” you say before he even gets the app open. He looks you over, seeing how your shirt sticks to your skin, the tone peeking through. “Oh, honey, here,” he says hurriedly, shrugging off his wet linen button up and putting it over your shoulders, “I'm like, less than a ten minute walk. You sure?" You nod while the rain continues to pelt you both, wincing with your shoulders up by your neck as if that'll protect you from the never ending downpour. “Prospect Heights, huh?” you ask with a raised brow, “Maybe I should put you in my phone as Money Bags, instead.” 

“Don’t start,” he laughs, wet curls bouncing when his head turns to you, offering his hand again, “C’mon, peach.” 

You take it without any hesitation.

prev | next

[catch1ngmoths]

🕸️ A GENTLE VOICE 🕸️

Summary: fem reader with a smooth voice. You’re used to making people stutter nervously. The band just met you, your interviewing them and their all flustered and stuttering as you tease them but it’s all fun an games ;3

A/n: I’m sorry this took me so long to write! I’ve had like no motivation so I’m so so sorry!! So in the request it says like Connie from big mouth (aka mommy) so I kinda made y/n talk like Connie so I hope you guys enjoy! (๑>؂•̀๑)

Requested by my love, @bunnysenpai31

𓆩⚝𓆪 𓆩⚝𓆪𓆩⚝𓆪 𓆩⚝𓆪𓆩⚝𓆪 𓆩⚝𓆪𓆩⚝𓆪 𓆩⚝𓆪𓆩⚝𓆪 𓆩⚝𓆪

You were getting ready in your dressing room, as you run your hands down to straighten your dress. You were sent to interview tokio hotel today and you were pretty excited. You walked down the hall and stopped at the closed door where tokio hotel was inside waiting for you.

You took a deep breath as you cracked open the door and walk in, sitting down in your spot next to one of the crew members. “Hello boys, how are y’all today.” You say with your intoxicatingly sweet voice. Their eyes were already wide from seeing you but once they heard you’re voice they blushed.

“O-oh! Er yes, we’re.. we’re doing great!” Bill says taking charge in the group. Tom narrows his eyes at you as he looks you up and down. Georg can’t take his eyes off you as he scans your face, heat rising in his cheeks. Gustav smiles as he plays with his fingers. Heart beating faster every time you spoke.

“Good..” you say dragging out the “o”. “Okay so let’s start.. are you boys starting on any new albums?” You continue with a soft smirk looking at all of their reactions. “Yes! Yes we are, tho we don’t want to spoil the name of it yet!” Bill says looking at you with red cheeks.

“Hmmm.. that’s okay love” you say looking back at the sheet of paper in front of you that’s holding the questions to ask. Bill smiles wide as he hides his face in his slender hands. “Well, any new women in y’all’s life?” You continue, looking at them through your lashes.

Tom speaks now, “i might if you don’t have any…”Tom pauses as you stare at him, making his heart flutter. “ m-men in your life..” He says winking at you and leaning forward. You giggle softly making the boys hearts speed up. “C’mon now baby, don’t get all shy on me now.” You say with a laugh.

They all smile at the nickname and laugh with you. “Now, gustav.. this next question is for you.” You say turning your attention to gustav who widens his eyes in shock and nervousness. “O-okay, what is it.?” Gustav says playing with his fingers again.

“Who is your inspiration, that got you into drums?” You ask leaning forward and giving him all your attention. “I-inspiration? A-ah yes! Uh it was my father.. h-he helped me practice.” He answered, looking at you with a nervous smile. “Ah your dad huh. That’s so sweet” you respond, flipping your hair to the back of your shoulders.

“T-thank you! Your sweet.I I MEAN! Your hobby is sweet too- heh.” Gustav says closing his eyes in embarrassment as he laughs with the rest of the band. “Ah your to cute gustav.” You say as you flutter your eyes at him sweetly. They all look at you as if they hypnotized by you.

You ask them around 15 more questions, their faces all a bright red when you spoke in your smooth and intoxicating tone. None of them ever took their eyes off you as you asked them questions. Around 20 minutes later after asking most of your questions you smirk and look twards Georg. “Okay last question.”

“Georg…how would you describe your fans?” You speak, your smooth voice and beautiful face making Georg feel a wave of confidence. “Well I would say, sweet, kind, amazing, and just wonderful.. are you a fan?” He asks with a sly smirk. “Well of course love.” You answer, your siren eyes lifting upward as you smile. “Then they’re also beautiful.”

“Awe Georg you flatter me sweets.” You playfully blow him a kiss as you slowly stand up. “Well that’s it for the interview.. I hope you all enjoyed.” You smile walking out as you turn and wave quickly. “Holy shit.” Bill says leaving his head back. “Tell me about it.” Georg says closing his eyes and smirking.

𓆩⚝𓆪 𓆩⚝𓆪𓆩⚝𓆪 𓆩⚝𓆪𓆩⚝𓆪 𓆩⚝𓆪𓆩⚝𓆪 𓆩⚝𓆪𓆩⚝𓆪 𓆩⚝𓆪