#CATCHING EACH OTHERS EYES THEN LOOKING AWAY SLIGHTLY BASHFULLY

[itsgirlyki]

“is she?”

nanami and yn have been keeping things a secret but it’s getting hard to hide.

🌺includes: kento nanami

contains: pure fluff, fem coded reader, swearing, early pregnancy, established relationship

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“yn-sensei? welcome back!” yuuji excitedly walked in your direction hoping to catch a conversation from you. three weeks ago, you abruptly left unexpectedly for a mission not being able to bid anyone a farewell. although it was only a coverup of why you were really away.

when he approached, you cupped his cheek gently which he greatly appreciated with a hum of joy. you’ve grown overly fond of the young man during the times he spent with you. “yuuji, great to see you.” you retracted your hand from his cheek.

“what about me bitch?” sukuna quips from the same cheek you held making you giggle from the vulgar words.

you flicked his cheek with a smile. “you’ve got a mouth on you, quite literally yuuji.” sukuna growls but kept his words at bay.

yuuji beams happily enjoying the attention but notices something slightly off about your usual appearance. was your skin glistening brighter? or did you fill out your uniform a little more? he put his thoughts to ease seeing as you were speaking to him. “what was that sensei? i quite didn’t catch that..” he nimbly replied.

you raised a brow disregarding his daydream repeating the question. “i asked if you wanted to walk with me to cafeteria before i head for the teachers lounge.”

“i’m down.” he gleefully nodded walking alongside yourself strolling to the cafeteria. as you both were walking yuuji observed the way you stepped. it was almost sluggish and drowsy causing him to pause with a frown. “uhh sensei are you okay?”

out of shock you stop dead in your tracks looking at him. you tried to keep your composure resuming your walk forcing it to be firmer. “why wouldn’t i be?” yuuji didn’t take lightly at the answer but didn’t pester about it anymore.

the both of you arrived at the cafeteria spotting the other first years inside. you gave a quick wave before motioning yuuji to join his friends. “i’m gonna grab a meal. why don’t you join them.” he gives a thumbs up walking away from you to join the two others.

“is it just me or is yn-sensei.. glowing?” nobara glanced at the teacher who was happily bouncing on the balls of her feet, now stacking food into a bowl. her skin shined almost reflecting whatever was nearby.

yuuji agrees hastily with the doubt from earlier leaving his body. “yes i was thinking the same! doesn’t she look bigger as well?” he grunted after earning a slap on the head from megumi, who only grumbled.

“you don’t talk about a lady’s weight.” nobara chuckled at megumi’s actions also giving yuuji a harsh nudge.

“yeah that’s super rude. even if it is true.” she crosses her arms observing your form from afar.

the portions looked a bit much for one person but you could be starving. she looks down to your stomach which was slightly pointed outward making her eyes light up in realization. ‘she looks pregnant.’ her mouth dropped slightly in shock but chose not to say anything since it wasn’t her place.

you walked back over to the trio with them being awkwardly quiet and paid no mind to it. “nobara, you’ll catch flies.” you chuckled tapping her chin. she quickly closed her mouth and blushed softly.

yuuji snorted at nobara being caught of guard. “thanks sensei.” she bashfully rubbed the back of her neck.

“alright children, i have to meet up with the other sensei’s but you have my cell if you need me!” you quickly wave them off skipping to your next destination which was to see your blonde headed husband.

the walk was a bit lengthy due to the slow pace you were walking. you’ve texted kento you were on your way a couple of minutes ago but you didn’t think it would take this long to get there. you decided a little break wouldn’t hurt and spotted a nearby bench, besides you have been getting hungrier each step of the way.

“sorry ken.. we’ve gotta take a minute.” you mumbled sitting on the bench eating your lunch. you hummed in satisfaction as the food filled into your stomach depleting your hunger. a minute became thirty and your meal session turned into a outdoor watching.

you hear shuffles come from behind you startling your core. “i figured you’d sit down..” nanami appeared from behind with crossed arms and a look of worry. “you had me anxious. no call or text?”

a sheepish smile smeared across your face as you rubbed your stomach. “i got a little distracted.” you went to stand but he patted your shoulder lightly making you sit back down.

he takes a sit next to you placing an arm over the bench. “a little?” being too stunned to speak you pouted sticking a tongue out at your husband.

“womp womp!”

“how mature of you.” he chuckled, brushing the hair out your face leaning in pressing a quick kiss on your lips.

“how smooth of you.” you repeated back leaning in pressing another firm kiss on his lips. you scoot into his warm body laying a head onto his shoulder having conversation. him occasionally brushing your stomach with his large hand.

“well that’s not something you see everyday..” a familiar voice sprang in the air causing you and kento to lean away from each other looking into that direction.

shoko, who was walking had now halted watching the scene you two made, the second years not too far following behind her but had shocked faces. kento face palmed at his carelessness forgetting that he was still on the campus. you on the other hand waved jollily standing to greet everyone.

“shoko! second years! how are you?” you clasp your hands together strolling in front of them. they regathered their composures and began to speak back.

“not as good as you it seems.” she snickers making nanami scowl and sigh. he knew the teasing would be inevitable for why he wanted this a secret.

“since when was this.” she did a pointed motion towards you and him. “a thing?”

“salmon!!” inumaki agrees wanting to know the answer as well.

“i’ve always known you weren’t on the market yn-sensei! you’re too pretty.” pandas words make you flush with glee. you fan off his words humbly thanking him.

“nanami-sensei though? odd pair. you’re so sunshine! he’s so… clouds.. bills.. get to work.” you internally died at his statement trying not to laugh in your husbands face.

“i am still right here.” the stoic man grumbled shaking his head. panda bowed repeatedly to him.

maki had been awfully quiet not saying a word just visibly observing you. you wondered what she was thinking. “something on your mind maki?” you ask.

she blinks snapping out of a daze nodding her head. “have you been bulking?” of course the girl had thought it was for working out. you gulped as everyone also began staring at your form noticing the slight changes. kento began to sweat slightly shuffling away from the area.

“now that i’m looking at it, you have gotten bigger especially down there.” shoko softly pressed a finger on your stomach making you flinch back.

“so, are you calling me fat?” you chuckled trying to play it off but she had a different opinion.

“no, i’m actually calling you pregnant.” the sound of a penny could be heard dropping. you asked why she thought that and she merely shrugged.

“firstly your skin is glistening but there’s no sweat, then you’re hunching over a bit, and not to mention the prominent curve. do i need to say more?” you wheezed almost forgetting that this is a doctor you’re talking to.

“secrets out i guess! yes, i’m one month pregnant.” you blew a raspberry at shoko for blowing your cover but happy it wouldn’t have to be held in anymore.

panda had an internal battle with his head shortly making an outburst. “so that means.. nanami-sensei is the dad!!” pandas paws slid down his face dramatically looking over to the blonde man to find him gone.

“wait that’s actually gross.” maki puts a hand on her face looking away, inumaki blushes as well covering his face even more.

you pout childishly pointing an accusing finger at them. “how do you kids think you got here??”

“SENSEI STOP!!!”

“SHOKO SHOULD’VE NEVER SAID ANYTHING!!”

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extra: with nanami and gojo

“so i heard yn is pregnant.. by a little blonde.”

“gojo i will harm you.”

“seesh, fine..”

“…”

“was it wet?”

“gojo leave my office.”

for more like this follow @itsgirlyki !!

[chosai]

ROUGH DAY AT WORK ? LET ME HELP YOU ! — ZAYNE (黎深)

warning: this drabble contains smut (18+ content). minors do not interact!

© chosai — do not copy, modify, or translate any of my works.

your husband, zayne, isn't the most vocal when it comes to his emotions – if you don't, thoroughly, read him between the lines, it definitely would be a struggle for anyone since this man would not budge, keeping his mouth shut. undoubtedly, you worry for him; he works long hours – nearly sixty hours per week, nights and days, yet he refuses to catch a break. one thing's for certain, he's quite the stubborn workaholic.

you're busy cooking dinner; your nimble hands working on the meat and vegetables while you hum your favourite tune. you glance at the time on the microwave behind you, and you immediately quicken the pace on your chopping. in twenty minutes or so, you expect the front door to open; revealing your beloved husband outside the door – the next course of action being you spoiling him with food. after all, upon returning from a long shift at work, it's important to eat a filling meal.

"he's going to love this," you hum to yourself, sautéing the meat and vegetables together in the pan in contentment. the rice is finished cooking, and the main dish is nearly ready. your stomach is grumbling like crazy at the delicious scent. for the first time in a long time, you feel proud at yourself for cooking such an appetizing dish. you take a small lick from the spoon, and you close your eyes shut and squealed. best bet for the next couple of weeks, you'll be cooking this for dinner.

the door opens suddenly, and steps in your husband clad in his usual dress shirt paired with his trousers. you take a peek from the kitchen, and you excitement took over you.

“welcome home, honey!” you greet zayne warmly, pressing a soft kiss on his lips. once you pull away, you manage to fully inspect your husband’s face; there’s fatigue evident in his hazel eyes and from the way his lips are pressed in a straight line, he doesn’t look too pleased. you rest your hand against his broad chest, leaning closer to him.

“what’s the matter my love? you look tired and upset.” you question him, caressing your hand against his cheek. “i also finished making dinner, we can talk more while we eat dinner if you want!”

before you’re able to pull away, his strong hands stop you; gripping at your waist as he pulls you closer. his thumb rubbing light circles against the thin fabric of your shirt; his face nuzzling into the comfort of your neck.

“i want to stay close to you like this,” he breathes, his voice slightly muffled. you rest your head against his chest.

“work’s been rougher than usual,” he then adds, and he breathes in your scent. “ah, but just touching you makes me feel better.”

“you’re so cute, zayne.” you coo, before leaning in closer to his face. you press a soft peck against his lips, giggling softly. however, you’re caught off guard when he leans in for a second kiss — this time, though, is plenty more heated; while his one hand rested on your hips, his other hand rests on the back of your head to pull you closer. soft, muffled moans fall past your lips, your legs trembling as your arousal steadily grows. a thin string of saliva connects both your lips as you pull away; soft pants leaves your lips as you stare at each other in arduous desperation.

“z-zayne,” you mutter his name bashfully, completely dazed from his overhasty movements. it isn’t as if you minded, though. through your heavy lidded gaze, you can also make out the delectable sight of your husband sharing the same need as you; his mouth slightly agape, his ears slightly flushed a bright incarnadine, and his bedroom eyes — dinner will have to wait. in this moment, you yearn to spoil him by other means.

through heavy and heated kisses, you both find yourselves on the comfort of the sofa; your hips straddling his lap as your lips immediately finds his neck, trailing a line of kisses down the soft skin. his large hands finds its way to your ass, giving the plush a tight squeeze as he grinds you against his aching erection. you moan against his neck, feeling your body twitch beneath his grasp.

aroused is truly an understatement.

“h-honey,” you say in between shaky breaths, “i wanna spoil you today.”

zayne’s hands then travel up your shirt, removing the soft fabric with ease; the cool air immediately hits your skin, and you shiver slightly. your husband licks his lips, savouring the sight of your pretty breasts before him.

without passing another second, your husband latches his mouth onto your soft mound. “you already are, my love.” says your husband, his voice muffled as he twirls his tongue against the hardened bud.

your body shrivels underneath his touch, yearning to get closer to him. soft moans of his name falls from your lips as your hands travel down to his trousers, unbuckling his exorbitant belt and quickly unzipping his trousers which then reveals his grey boxers with a moist spot at the tip.

fuck, you can feel your mouth watering at the sight. just how long has it been since you last had a taste of his dick? with gentle fingers threading through your husband’s raven locks, you pull him away from your breasts — and you squeeze your legs even tightly; he looks so drunk in your touch, his gaze clouded in desire. before zayne can process anything further, he immediately finds you perched in between his legs; your hands going straight in for the hem of his trousers and boxers, attempting to pull them down in one go as if you’re famished.

his erect girth springs out of his boxers and nearly smacks your face. you smile, tracing a finger along his twitching length. enamored, you lick a strip along his cock — not breaking eye contact with your now flustered husband.

“you had a rough day at work, no?” with languid strokes, you ask the question with feigned innocence, leaning your head against his herculean thighs. “let me help you~”

that being said, you take him all the way in your mouth; relishing the way zayne’s breath hitched out a moan as you ignore the tiny tears that threaten to roll down your flushed cheeks. his hand that rests atop your hand trembles, his fingers softly digging into your scalp as he thrusts his hips higher — urging you to take him deeper. you bite back a gag as you try your damnedest to breathe through your nose.

“hah, fuck.” your husband hisses through his teeth, throwing his head back as a hoarse groan falls from his lip, and you moan softly in response albeit his girthy cock is still inches down your throat. “you’re taking me so good, m’love.”

you hum in response through your blurred gaze, your cheeks coated in tears as you continue to please him; one hand resting at his hips, while the other trails south, the tip of your fingers circling around your swollen clit. you can’t help it. given how alluring your husband can be, it is nearly impossible to not pounce on him. your subtle self-pleasure doesn’t go unnoticed by zayne, however.

his hands find stability in your scalp once again, and he holds on to it tight before he begins to thrust into your mouth frantically. the sleek noises of your mouth making love to his dick resonates athwart the living room, paired with some occasional choking from the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat — but zayne loves every single noise that leaves your mouth, even more the lewd expressions plastered across your face as you’re eager to please him.

“fuck, y/n. your mouth feels so fucking good around me. you’re such a good girl for spoiling me — hah. you’re going to make me cum soon.” a string of breathy praises leaves his lips, the pace of his hips thrusting relentlessly begins to stagger the closer he gets to his release.

you pull back slightly and suck on his tip, circling your tongue around the little hole. you stare at your husband, your eyes blown back in lust. from zayne’s point of view, you’re practically staring at him with hearts formed in your eyes. his eye twitches and a hoarse groan slips past his lips, his hands gripping onto your scalp firmly yet softly as he spurts his seed into your mouth.

as you draw back from his cock, you open your mouth — revealing the large amounts of his cum resting on your tongue before swallowing it all. zayne caresses your face gently with his long fingers, giving you praises for taking him so well with your mouth.

“did… did that help?” you ask him cutely, your shoulders rising and dropping as you attempt to catch your breath.

“yes,” zayne says, his hands slowly snaking around your hips. “however…”

a sharp gasp rips from your throat as your husband effortlessly positioned you onto the couch, your ass now facing his hardened cock. you stare back at the erect girth in shock — a minute hasn’t even passed and he’s already..? all thoughts that linger in your head dissipates the moment you feel his long and thick fingers tracing along the lines of your drenched folds; such minimal movements of his index finger elicits the lewdest noises coming from your heat. he savours the sight of you; your flushed face looking back at him as your ass is high up in the air for him to see the arousal drooling from your cunt.

“my wife is so so beautiful,” zayne comments sweetly before sticking two fingers inside, your slick walls immediately welcoming his digits in a tight embrace. you arch your back, raising your ass higher as you beg for more friction. you can never grow tired of the feeling of being filled. he pulls his fingers out and licks your love juices.

“i hope you don’t mind, but i’m still not done with you spoiling me.” says zayne, pressing a kiss on the back of your head as he aligns the tip of his cock to your sopping entrance. “you can still take me. right, honey?”

you nod your head frantically, trying to push your hips back to meet his. “mmm, fuck. please, baby. i wan’ you to fuck me so bad—”

a loud moan rips from your throat when his cock slides easily inside your folds, the tip already kissing your cervix. you arch your back and curl your toes, and your face is stuffed into the soft cushions of the couch — completely submitting into being used as a cock sleeve for your husband, who in turn, is fucking into your hole like a madman. he stuffs his face into the nape of your neck, his breaths heavy as he ruts his hips into yours.

“ah! mmm — shit, you’re fucking me so good.” you mewl a praise, though your voice is muffled from the pillow you stuffed your face in as he only fucks you with a newfound vigour; his nails digging into your hips, his groans vibrating against your skin merely adds more fuel to the fire — your release slowly reaching its peak.

the more he fucks into you, the more your body trembles beneath his touch. with each thrust he made, a moan rips from your throat as he makes it his sole mission to get you to come hard. especially in a position such as this, each thrust of his hips lands a hit on your sweet spot; your walls squeezing tightly onto his girth as he did.

he grabs both your hands and holds them behind your back with his one hand, raising your body higher from the cushions.

“don’t hide your moans from me,” he demands, thrusting his hips into yours deeply. you cry out in response, your body twitching against his as you’re nearing your orgasm.

“i-i’m coming,” you announce, your voice tottering as the pressure in your abdomen erupts and your body trembles. zayne lets out a low moan, closing his eyes tightly to relish the sensations of your walls clamping tightly around him, attempting to milk him dry of his cum.

heavy breaths filled the warm air surrounding your living room; small beads of sweat rolling down your bodies as you both try to catch your breaths.

“thank you, my love. you always treat your husband so well.” zayne says sweetly, peppering kisses all over your face and you giggle softly. though, you’re a little muddled when he starts to get up from the couch; his hand reaching out towards the piles of clothes scattered across the floor. “let’s go shower before we eat dinner.”

you reach out for his hand, and he looks back at you with a questioning look. excitement flickers in your eyes, the thrill overtaking your veins suddenly controls your consciousness. you lay back down on the couch, giving your husband the most seductive look you can muster and spread your lips. his gaze follows your hands, and he gulps softly; his eyes locked onto your swollen and dripping cunt.

“you didn’t cum again,” you say, your voice soft yet there is mischief laced in it. “i don’t mind if we go another round.”

sora's note: 😳

[deanbrainrotwritings]

— WILD FLOWER

SUMMARY : dean gets hit by a spell when fighting a witch and assumes it was harmless or ineffective. he was wrong, but at least he wasn’t dead. he’s a woman now. 

PAIRING : fem!dean winchester x fem!reader

CHARACTERS : sam winchester

WARNINGS/TAGS : nsfw(18+), smut, fingering, oral sex, fem!dean (idk, that’s not a warning), misgendering?

WORD COUNT : 5.5k

A/N : title from RM’s song. this was new but very interesting, and I don’t regret it. I imagined dean as a combination of margot robbie and elizabeth olsen?? yeah, idk lol, yall can picture whoever you want. (I hate my 18 year old writing, but here it is) XXX

Dean grunted as he let himself fall into the backseat of the Impala. Sam and Y/N looked at each other and Y/N sighed, shaking her head as she debated walking into the backseat with Dean or riding shotgun. 

“Dean, keys,” Sam reached his hand inside the car and Dean whined quietly, but started to search his jeans for the keys. Y/N watched Dean struggle with finding the keys, a loving smile growing on her face, and he held them out for Sam to take at last. “Sit with him, make sure he doesn’t die or something,” Sam joked to Y/N.

“Fuck you, man,” Dean grunted, moving slightly as Y/N slipped in the backseat with him snickering at him. Dean snuggled into Y/N, mumbling softly against her thigh as she played with his hair.

“You feeling okay, D?” 

He hummed softly and nodded. “‘M just sleepy.” 

She wanted to scold him for jumping in front of her when the witch cast her spell. He knew that she couldn’t be hurt, she had no idea why he would do that. Maybe it was just a habit, but it’s been a long time since he’d treated her like that, as if she were fragile and could easily die. 

She was worried, but he eventually fell asleep with his face pressed into her stomach, curled up on his side. He looked so adorable when he slept, a little smile tugged at her lips and she took the blanket they kept in the backseat and placed it over his body. 

“Think he’s gonna be okay?” Sam asked quietly as he drove, glancing at Y/N through the rearview mirror. He also looked concerned, his eyes wide and puppy-like, his teeth chewing at the inside of his cheek.

“S’long as I’m alive, he’ll always be okay,” she promised, caressing Dean’s cheek with her thumb. Sam let out a shaky breath, relaxing in his seat while his hands flexed on the steering wheel.

“Thanks, Y/N,” Sam murmured, focusing on the road. Y/N looked away from Dean and gazed at Sam with a little smile, her eyes soft. “I’m glad you’re always here and have our backs. I know it was your choice to come with us all those years ago, but.. you’ve stayed with Dean and me—even after everything. I know anyone else woulda run for the hills, but you actually love my brother in ways I’ve never seen anyone be loved. He deserves you and you deserve him, you two make each other so happy…” 

She blinked at Sam, confused by his sudden speech, she figured he must have been anxious at Dean’s current state. Still, his words had impact. It was no secret she was head over heels for Dean and it was no secret he was just as in love with her. It made her stomach clench delightfully, her face heating up as she imagined how easily everyone else can see the love they have for each other. 

She looked down at Dean, smiling wider at his peaceful face before quietly saying, “you don’t need to thank me, Sam.” 

“No, I know… I just… I’m glad you’re in our lives,” he told her bashfully, smiling at her through the rearview mirror. She looked up and smiled back at him, letting out a small laugh that made him relax immediately.

“I’m glad you’re both in my life too,” she said quietly. A peaceful silence descended within the Impala, the occasional little rock hitting the metal frame while Sam drove as smoothly as he could back to the motel they were staying at. 

Thankfully, the sun wouldn’t start rising for a few hours which meant they could catch a little sleep on their last night at the motel before heading off to the Bunker. More importantly, Dean would get some extra sleep—and Y/N was thrilled that he would be able to sleep fully until morning.

Dean whined and nuzzled into Y/N’s stomach when she tried moving him out of the Impala so he could sleep in a bed. He slapped her hand away and mumbled some nonsense into her tummy until Sam returned to check on them and roughly slapped his brother’s shoulder.

“Ow,” Dean flinched, slowly getting up to rub his shoulder with a pout while Y/N and Sam laughed at how childish he sounded. “You’re both mean…” he muttered, pecking Y/N’s lips just because he could before sleepily stumbling out of the Impala, stretching and rubbing his eyes. Y/N took the opportunity to gently smack his ass as his jacket and shirt rode up his body. 

He smirked at her, pulling her into his arms to kiss her which made Sam groan in disgust, mostly playful. She giggled into the kiss, clutching Dean’s shirt as he held her face in his warm palms.

“Alright then,” Sam cleared his throat. When Dean held Y/N in place, his tongue lazily slipping past her lips as he tilted his head for a better angle, Sam scratched the back of his neck and rolled his eyes. “I’m gonna shower,” he said quickly, and made his escape. Dean chuckled, finally pulling away from his girlfriend.

“Will you make me sleep on the couch if I don’t wanna shower?” He gave her his best puppy-dog eyes, it made her smile adoringly at him. Dean could surprisingly pull that look off quite well and she had to resist rolling her eyes—mostly at herself for melting as soon as he looked at her that way. 

“Just sleep in clean clothes and brush your teeth,” she murmured, kissing him softly. He hummed quietly, nodding his head, accepting her proposition. 

“What if I sleep naked?” He wondered with a smirk, staring down at her. He bit his lip, raising his brows as he held her close to him. She laughed and rested her head on his chest, her ear pressed over his heart, listening to the cadence of his relaxing heartbeat.

“I would love that, but unfortunately, we share a room with your brother…” She moved away from him to close the door. He groaned in annoyance, holding her pinky with his. “I know,” she said dramatically, tugging him to the motel room, fully intertwining their fingers, “if only you could sleep naked next to me at all hours, every night.” 

He chuckled softly at the thought, spinning her around to face him with his arms around her waist. She gasped dramatically as he opened the door, but before he could kiss her, she put her finger to his lips, “better yet, what if you were naked at all hours, every day too?” He stumbled in with a laugh, kicking the door closed, and pressing her against the wall.

“Is that what you picture if we have our own home?” He murmured, kissing her passionately and sloppily dragging his lips down her neck. “Me, walking around naked so I can fuck you whenever I want?” He grabbed the back of her thighs and lifted her up so she could wrap her legs around him. 

“Dean…” she moaned, “we can’t…” 

He rutted against her slowly, her hands twisting in his shirts, as his warm breath fanned over her neck. He was already hard, it was driving her crazy to feel him against her clothed core, wetness pooling between her legs.

“Fuck,” he grunted, pressing his forehead against her shoulder, “I know.” He let her down gently and kissed her forehead. “Sorry,” he whispered, kissing her forehead again before he pulled away and started to strip.

“Don’t apologise for that,” she chuckled, stripping off her dirty clothes and putting on a clean pair of panties as he stood there, naked.

“I was apologising to your panties, mostly, and your pussy,” he bit his lip and nodded at her playfully, “because I bet they’re soaked, just ruined, and that you were expecting my dick inside you.” He wiggled his eyebrows at her and she chuckled, stealing a shirt from his duffel bag and grabbing some new boxers for him.

“I…” she laughed, shoving his boxers against his chest, “stop distracting me.” She walked past him as she put his shirt on and laughed when he pulled her into him again. His warm hands moved up her sides, lifting the shirt she wore as he pressed himself against her, his cock squeezed between their bodies. “I’m serious,” she chuckled, looking over at the bathroom door where the water was still running as Sam showered.

He sighed and let her go, dramatically putting his boxers on and standing there with his hands on his hips. “Better?” He asked, rolling his eyes playfully when she peeked at him from over her shoulder and then smiled at him.

“Not really, but I asked you to, so, I guess.” She smiled at him and pulled him closer to her. He moved with her smoothly, holding her close and plopping down on the bed with her in his lap. “Sammy's gonna come out soon,” she warned as he kissed her again and kneaded her ass, his hands warm and rough. 

“I know,” he whined, falling back on the bed, closing his eyes, his thumbs rubbing circles on her hip bones. “Don’t get mad, I don’t wanna brush my teeth, I’m still a little tired from the spell.” Her eyes softened and she leaned over him, kissing his hairline, dropping another kiss on his forehead.

“I’m never going to get mad at you, you know that, Dean.” She kissed his nose and then his lips before climbing off him and laying down with her head in the pillow. He turned to look at her tiredly, but managed to smile at her happily.

“I know, I just like being dramatic.” Instead of claiming his spot closest to the door, he settled between her legs, nudging them apart with his knees. 

“I love you so much, Dean,” she murmured, wrapping her arms around his neck, she brought him down to rest his head on her chest. He quickly relaxed, a soft sigh warming up her chest as he nuzzled between her breasts as comfortably as he could. 

“I love you, Y/N, so much,” he mumbled shyly against her chest. His face heated up, but he hoped it made her smile. Her fingers began combing through his hair, and matched with her steady heartbeat and her warmth, they lulled him until he fell back into unconsciousness again. 

When he woke up, it was already sunny outside. He knew Sam must have gone out for a run, and after that, to pick up some coffee and tea for Y/N. He sneaked his hand under his girlfriend’s shirt with his eyes closed. Dean felt her stir when his fingers gently brushed against her nipple, a shudder rippling through her that made him smirk.

He lowered his hand and tugged at her panties, hoping to rouse her. It made her moan softly in protest. When he went to kiss her, a curtain of honey-coloured locks scared the shit out of him and he nearly screamed at the top of his lungs, but settled for a quick, “oh, shit!” 

He stumbled off of Y/N and his wiggling on the bed woke her.

“Dean?” She rubbed her eyes and blinked at the naked woman on the bed who was looking down at herself in shock. It sobered Y/N and she scrambled far away from the unfamiliar woman. “Dean?! Is this some kind of joke?” Y/N got out of bed, her eyes trailing up and down the woman’s body.

“Y/N, it’s me! It’s Dean!” In his attempts to get up, his boxers fell from his slimmer, curvier body, and Y/N froze, staring at him in the eyes. Green eyes. Dean pulled the boxers up and held them at his waist. 

“What?” She asked quietly.

“It’s me. It’s Dean. I’m Dean,” he said more calmly, making his way to her on the bed, walking on his knees. “Im kinda freaking out, babe,” he admitted quietly. Y/N’s eyes flickered down to Dean’s breasts again and then Y/N started to laugh. “What? What’s so funny? Sweetheart, we need to find out what happened! What the fuck is going on?” He didn’t care that she was laughing, he still moved in for a hug which she easily gave to him, her arms wrapping around his, her, neck.

“I’m sorry, D,” she murmured, burying her face in his neck and smelling the same scent that always came from Dean. “I think it was the witch, honestly,” she mumbled, pulling away slightly to look him in the eyes, his green eyes and cute freckles that she always loved. 

“But she’s dead…” Dean whispered, sitting down, his long hair covering her chest. “S-shouldn’t I…? Then why is the spell still working?” He wondered exasperatedly, running his hand down his face. “I need some clothes. And-and we need to get to the Bunker, read up on this shit…” he started to ramble as he got off the bed, letting his boxers fall.

“We can call Rowena,” Y/N suggested, but Dean was too busy rifling through his duffle bag. “D, slow down, I’ll let you borrow some of my clothes.” She got off the bed and stopped Dean, who was still pretty tall. He instinctively leaned down to kiss her, his fingers tangling in her soft hair. She kissed him back, to his surprise, as if he were the same, as if it didn’t matter to her that he was a woman now. At least for however long he had to be one before they turned him back.

“I wanna wear that dress that drives me crazy when you wear it,” he murmured playfully against her lips. She laughed at Dean, pulling away completely to dig through her duffle bag for a pair of her underwear and a bra. “Babe, your boobs are bigger than mine,” he pouted, experimentally holding his breasts in his hand and rolling his nipples between his fingers. He gasped softly and Y/N’s face heated up as she watched him touch himself. “Shit, am I pissing myself?” He stopped touching himself to look between his legs and then relaxed when he realised what was happening. “Oh,” he said with wonder.

“Stop that,” Y/N chuckled, placing the bra back into her bag while Dean pulled Y/N’s underwear on. She then took out the dress Dean was talking about, wondering if he was serious or not. “Are you sure?” She asked, holding it up for him to inspect it—even though he’d seen it millions of times. He rubbed his thighs together and then looked up at her, his face flushed.

“Uh, yeah,” he said, getting up and taking it from her, letting him help putting it on. She bit her lip, realising that he was turned on right now. “Man, why am I so wet?” He whined as Y/N fixed the straps of the thin and soft dress. 

“I don’t know,” she murmured, fixing the dress on Dean’s body and grabbing the white, silky strap of cloth that went around the waist to make a neat bow at his waist. “Why do you think you’re wet?” She asked, tilting her head.

“Uh,” Dean looked down at himself, bit his lip as he blushed and then looked at her. “Probably because you still turn me on and I’m wearing your panties,” he told her, licking his lips, he stepped forward, watching her stand up straight as he came closer. “I mean, I know wearing panties always feels good to me, but it’s always different when I know they’re yours,” he confessed, looking down as he sneaked his hand under her shirt and into her panties. Both their breaths started to pick up and he moaned softly, finding her as soaked as he felt. 

Just then, the doorknob started to rattle and Dean grunted in annoyance. He moved his hand out from between her legs and licked his fingers clean of her slick before kissing her forehead and heading to the bathroom. Sam froze as he watched a woman—Dean—wad to the bathroom while Y/N stood there, flushed, before facing Sam.

“What’s going on?” Sam asked, closing the door behind him to place the cup holder on the table. 

“Uh, the witch made Dean a woman,” Y/N said bluntly, putting on some jeans to look a little more decent. 

“The.. What?” Sam blinked at Y/N, then seemed to have let the information sink as he sat down, abandoning the coffee cup he was drinking from when he came in. “Are you sure?” He asked, even though he knew Y/N knew what she was doing. She nodded and took the cup that had the tea string hanging out of the cup. “I’ll call Rowena as we make our way to the Bunker, it’s just a few hours away…” Sam stretched a little and froze when Dean came out of the bathroom, using a towel to clean his face.

“Hey, Sammy,” Dean grumbled, hating the way Sam looked at him in shock. Dean took the last coffee on the cup holder and started to drink from it. “I know, I’m so hot like this, too,” he smirked up at his baby brother. Sam rolled his eyes, needing nothing more to know that it was, in fact, Dean as a woman. 

Y/N chuckled and made her way to the bathroom to get ready, letting Sam and Dean talk about whatever they needed to before stepping out. She got her stuff ready, found Sam perplexed, prepared, and Dean amused and curious, before they all headed out to the car to get to the Bunker.

Dean pouted as Rowena started to scan his body using a spell, Y/N stifled a laugh, which made Dean smile. As soon as Sam got in the Impala, he started to call Rowena and told her to be there to help Dean out. She was obviously there, faster than either of them cared to mention.

Rowena had also checked Dean out as soon as she saw him, which Dean liked, despite his sassy remark to her objectifying stare. He plopped down on the bed of the infirmary and let Rowena do her thing, Y/N was sitting nearby as Sam anxiously chewed on his fingernails. 

“Honestly, as long as I’m not gonna die…” he trailed off, “but please tell me you can turn me back.” Rowena sighed and smiled at Dean, her eyes mischievous and naughty as she patted Dean’s head like a dog.

“You’re not going to die,” she reassured him and Dean slapped her hand away, sitting up on the bed. “And the spell will run its course in a few days, like a fever,” she explained. Dean listened as he played with the hem of the dress he wore. “Tell me, what’s it like for you being a woman? Have you two already explored your new body?” She asked mischievously. Sam cleared his throat, expressing his discomfort. Rowena rolled her eyes at him, but smirked at Dean’s blush as he crossed his arms over his chest defensively. “I’m asking because I can change you back now… Unless..” she trailed off, looking between Y/N and Dean with a knowing look, “unless you two wanna experiment…” She added casually, shrugging and looking at her nails.

“Okay! I’m leaving now,” Sam said, not wanting to hear it or to embarrass Y/N and Dean for their choice. Sam decided he was going to leave the Bunker for a while and l text Dean that he’d be back in a week. Sam nodded to himself, getting some new clothes and his duffle bag, he wanted to give them some privacy. Maybe he could read all those books he wanted to read and stay in a motel for a while. Or he could call Eileen, yeah, he was gonna do that, spend some time with her and go on a date, too. 

“I’m not judging, I’m actually encouraging it,” Rowena said smugly, packing her things. Rowena didn’t need an answer, she had Dean figured out. He was confident and proud about his sex life; he was an experimenter, willing to try anything. Dean rolled his eyes at Rowena and got out of bed to stand next to Y/N. 

“Whatever, we’ll walk you out,” Dean grumbled, taking Y/N’s hand to help her off the chair as Rowena gave both of them a knowing look. Her dark eyes shone with amusement and flirtatiousness, which made Dean roll his eyes again as he took her other bag and walked out with Y/N. 

“I always knew you two were an interesting pair,” she laughed, “I mean, how do you get Y/N to try all these things? She seems too tame for things like these…” Dean smirked to himself, knowing Rowena couldn’t see his face; if only she knew how many times a lot of the freaky stuff they did were Y/N’s idea. He looked down at his girlfriend, his eyes full of affection and desire. She was so cute when she was flustered. 

Rowena gasped dramatically, her heels clicking as she hurried to stand next to them. “Don’t tell me, this child is the one who comes up with everything… I knew you were the most sheltered, Dean.” Rowena laughed, looking between both of them, and needing nothing, but their silence to confirm her statement. “Well, I’m just shocked… but very proud.” She squeezed Y/N’s shoulder, a genuine expression of pride and mischief shining in her grey-blue eyes. 

Y/N shook her head at the witch, allowing Dean to open the Bunker door for Rowena to make her exit. “Well, thanks for coming out to help, Rowena,” Y/N told her. Dean handed Rowena her bag and Rowena grinned at them.

“You’re welcome,” she kissed Y/N’s cheek formally and patted Dean’s shoulder, “have a fantastic week, lovebirds.” Rowena continued to tease as she walked out, leaving Dean and Y/N alone in the Bunker, both amused as they shut the door. 

“I’m gonna go look for Sam,” Dean said, looking down at his body, “and then I’m gonna shower.” He leaned over to kiss Y/N’s cheek, then kissed her lips, smiling adorably at her. 

“Just… go look for your brother,” Y/N chuckled shyly, walking past Dean just as his phone lit up on the war table. “Nevermind!” She shouted, taking Dean’s phone when she saw Sam’s name light up the screen above a message he sent. Dean raised a brow and walked over to her, looking over her shoulder to read whatever notification he got. 

SAMMY : I’m heading out with Eileen. I’m spending the whole week with her. You two have fun… No details, please.

Dean chuckled too, taking the phone when Y/N handed it to him. He typed out his response with a childish snicker and a grin. Y/N’s smile grew watching Dean look practically the same even as a woman.

Dean : Oh, you have plenty of time to finally sleep with her.. Unlike you, I’d like to hear the details… or Eileen will spill to Y/N and I’ll know anyway. Heh.

Dean proudly sent the message, his attention purely on his phone. He saw Sam had immediately read it and the text bubble appeared, so he stepped forward, leaning his hips against the table, nearly forgetting he was a woman. He quickly recovered and laughed at Sam’s response.

SAMMY : She wouldn’t… Stop that!

               Goodbye, Dean

Dean could already hear the annoyance from Sam through the text and he grinned to himself, looking to where Y/N was. A soft smile graced her pretty lips and Dean found himself smiling back immediately, and reaching out for her hand.

“Let’s shower together,” he said with a smile, his thumb brushing against her knuckles when she took his hand. She nodded at him, looking at Dean the same way she always had. It flustered him. 

While he walked with her to the bathroom, he couldn’t help squeeze her hand nervously—now that he was a woman. It was comforting that nothing had changed for her, that it didn’t matter what he looked like. If anything could display how she felt about him, this was the true testament of her love for him.

As much as he wanted to just get the shower over with, he couldn’t. He had no idea how to stop himself from being so horny, it was like starting all over again from puberty. He couldn’t focus on anything, but the desire for Y/N to touch him. He was so wet, everytime his thighs were too close, he could feel his panties sticking to his pussy, the cool feeling of wetness surprising him. 

He didn’t even realise he was already in the bathroom, until he felt Y/N tugging at the ends of the little bow she made around his waist to keep the dress snug against his curves. He focused on her, but the way it just seemed so natural to her that he was a woman now, it was confusing. Still, it was also nice, hoping that her love for him was just that pure and unconditional.

“I love you,” he mumbled. He felt shy saying that, but she looked up at him with her eyebrows raised slightly, pleasant surprise written all over her face, one side of her lips turning up just a little. She leaned forward and pecked his lips, repeating the same sentiment that made him feel warm, a flush that was different from the lust he’d been feeling all day. 

Dean started to take his dress off slowly, but Y/N stripped faster than he did, focused on the task of showering. She turned the shower on and waited patiently for Dean to get used to his lady parts and the difference in size of all his body. His arms were thinner and so were his legs, he was soft, but toned, and just slightly firm on his ass, he was squishy in all the places he liked Y/N to be. When he’d embarrassedly lowered his panties, Y/N watched, amused by the patch of wetness that drenched the crotch of the cotton. 

“Jesus, Dean,” she chuckled, stepping forward and curiously tugging Dean’s panties to get a clearer look at all the wetness. Dean blushed, now understanding why Y/N became so coy when he did or said things like that. He secretly liked it though, the way she pressed her fingers into the damp cotton and hummed as if it were nice against her fingertips. “You're so dirty,” she whispered, laughing softly. 

“I’m not used to this,” was all he managed to say. Y/N released his panties, letting them pool around his ankles. Dean swallowed, waiting in anticipation for Y/N to do something, anything really, just as long as he could get off. She’d mimicked what Dean did earlier to himself, her hands experimentally cupping Dean’s breast. Dean bit his lip, feeling his nipples tighten and tingle with the prospect of being touched.

Y/N was slow and curious in the way she handled him. Her thumbs gently circled around the nipple, observing them start to pucker up. The soft pads of her thumbs brushed against the little buds of his nipples and he found himself arching his chest the same way she did when he did that to her. 

It had the same effect on her as it had on him, and one of her arms wrapped around his waist, pulling him close so her warm mouth was latched onto his nipple. He moaned, feeling her fingers on his other breast, pinching and rolling his nipples, while she tongued the other expertly.

He felt his knees weaken and he steadied himself on the wall, a wave of wetness dampening his legs more. She released his waist, sucking his nipple into her mouth, her teeth pleasantly scraping the sensitive skin of his nipples. Her hand slid down his side, smoothly tracing the curve of his waist, down to his hips.

Her thumb brushed against his hipbone and it felt so damn good, Dean moaned again, squirming and hoping Y/N would show him mercy and put her fingers where she knew he wanted her to. Instead, she playfully tugged at his nipple and let it go with a pop, her warm breath billowing over the wetness and making shivers erupt on his skin. 

Dean felt his eyes roll back, felt so horny when she wrapped her arm around his waist again and repeated every little stroke of her tongue on his other nipple. This time, her free hand moved between his legs. Dean found himself spreading his legs when her palms sailed smoothly up the inside of his thigh, curving up to cup his pussy, her palm grinding against his swollen clit and her fingers pressing into his drenched entrance. 

He gasped, his fingers tangling in her hair, trying to pull her up so she would kiss him instead. She pulled away from his chest and let Dean kiss her, a surprised sound muffling against Dean’s lips. She didn’t stop palming his swollen clit, and Dean began to undulate his hips against her hand and she smirked. Even now, she loved making him desperate. 

“I need to cum,” he gasped against her mouth. Y/N nodded, circled Dean’s weeping entrance with two fingers and moved them up to his clit. She kissed Dean’s neck, licked his sweet skin and marked him as hers where she thought would look pretty against his skin. Dean’s heavy breaths and breathy moans caused a pool of arousal between her legs again. 

Y/N licked her lips, staring at Dean, and truly took him in. She took in the gorgeous curves of his body, his tiny waist and wide hips, the perfect roundness of his perky breasts, his nipples hard and shimmering with her saliva. He looked beautiful, ravenous, in the same way he’d make her feel when he had the body of a man. 

His hair was long and straight, a lighter brown colour. He was breathtaking, with strands curtaining above his chest and falling in front of his face, long tendrils of honey that nearly covered his green eyes. He looked at her breathlessly, wondering why she was so slowly, agonisingly massaging his clit. 

He hadn’t expected to see the same tenderness in her eyes that she’d usually gaze at him with, her eyes sparkling with wonder and love. Dean whined anyway, grasping her wrist to speed up and control the movements just when she began to trace the same freckles she’d seen on Dean’s other body with her eyes. 

She didn’t say anything, just snatched Dean’s wrist with her clean hand to keep him away as she easily slipped two fingers inside him. Dean gasped, not expecting the speed at which Y/N fingered him. Her fingertips easily found his g-spot, curled so deliciously against the sensitive ridges of his wall. His mouth fell open and he moaned her name loudly, feeling a coil begin to tighten in his tummy. 

He tugged at his nipples with both hands, squeezing his breasts and fucked himself against her quick fingers. Y/N stared up at him, captivated by every one of his hedonistic manoeuvres. Desire flourished between her legs and in her stomach at the sound of Dean’s wet cunt around her fingers. 

Y/N got down on her knees, her mouth sending warm breaths over his pelvis. Dean’s eyes snapped open to gaze down at Y/N with an intense hunger, wiggling his hips and abandoning one of his breasts to spread his folds with two fingers, encouraging her to put her mouth on his clit. 

She didn’t hesitate to flick his clit teasingly and he jolted, his head bumping against the wall. He moaned again, the feeling of her tongue’s perfect strokes drew him closer to his orgasm. The smoothness of movement aided by her saliva and Dean just didn’t care about holding back when he came, completely relaxing his muscles and letting it tear through him intensely.

Dean caught his breath against the wall, her fingers slowing down and stopping before her tongue did. Y/N sat back on her legs and licked her fingers clean while Dean watched her. Leaning forward for more, she lifted Dean’s thigh and pushed his legs open to lap up his clear cum and he moaned appreciatively.

“Come on, there’s still a lot more I have to show you.” She grinned at him mischievously, allowing Dean to relax and catch his breath. She stepped into the shower and stared at him for a moment.

“God,” he whispered and rolled his eyes, “it sucks that this is just temporary.” He entered the shower with her. 

“That’s enough time,” she reassured him with a grin. Dean gasped when Y/N manhandled him under the showerhead and used her fingers to clean him up, purposely brushing against his sensitive clit.

“I am so in love with you,” Dean breathed, pressing a loving kiss to her cheek. 

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[cherryredstars]

hiiii!!!! This is my first request so please bear w/ me. Ok ok so imagine us working at the spider society and going on a mission to a shady universe, in it were kidnapped by a yandere Miguel ohara that exists in that universe and the real one has to come and save us.

thank you so much!!!!! I think you’ll be hearing more of my yapping soon 😋

-🕺

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x gn!reader

Warnings: Kidnapping, Spitting, Slapping, Slightly Yandere!Miguel

A/N: I can’t wait to see you in my inbox again!

Unedited

He was so… nice.

He looked exactly like your Miguel, unsurprising considering he was a variant. But it was the same build, same breathtaking smile. Just a bit more easygoing, less stress planted on his shoulders. So easy to trust with his saccharine words and perfectly timed head tilts.

Real nice your ass.

Your eyes are narrowed as you take in this imposter, arms tugging at the restraints around your wrists and ankles. The fake only smiles at you, the look behind it wicked and irritated. You bite down on a groan when his hand roughly grabs your hair, titling your head back as his other hand squeezes around your throat. It restricts your airflow greatly, but doesn’t suffocate you completely.

“You’re so cute.” He sighs almost dreamily, using his grip on your hair to move your face around to study every angle. “But you would be so much cuter if you didn’t struggle, no?”

You let saliva gather on your tongue before you spit it at him. It bubbles on his cheek, and his smile drops momentarily as he lets go of your neck. His thumb comes up to flick the saliva away, locking eyes with you as he brings his thumb to his mouth and sucks. Your nose scrunches in disgust, and he lets out a chuckle as he removes his thumb from his mouth and boops your nose teasingly.

“What’s with the face, huh?” He asks with a tilted head and smile. “It makes you look silly.”

You sneer at him, trying to turn your face away from him the best you can with him still holding your hair. Miguel shakes his head with a chuckle, his grip getting tighter to the point you swear he pulled out a few strands. Your eye twitches slightly from the dull pain, and you have to draw out a long breath through your nose. Miguel’s wet thumb comes up to your face, dragging the wetness over your bottom lip.

He tries to force his thumb into your mouth, but you keep it sealed shut. Miguel grunts in displeasure, eyes darkening as his hand suddenly comes up and slaps you across the cheek. You choke on your gasp as he surges his thumb into the opening, pressing down on your tongue hard. You gag from the pressure, a shiver running up your spine in distaste.

Miguel hums in approve, his eyes lightening slightly as he begins to smile again. “See, now that’s my go-“

His sentence is cut off when he’s thrown off of you, crashing into the wall. His head bounces off with a sickening thud, but you know it only knocked him out. Your eyes stray from the alternate Miguel, searching the dim lighting until you make out his build. The real Miguel stands in front of you, slapping his hands together in disdain as if getting rid of dust or dirt.

His glowing red eyes meets yours, and you smile bashfully at him, “Hey, Miguel.”

He rolls his eyes with a grunt, his claws extended as he reaches for the restraints. He has a look of displeasure on his face as he shakes his head, grumbling under his breath as he breaks through them. Each of your limps fall one by one, the burning skin sighing in relief when the tight cuffs are gone. He’s already prepared to catch your slightly elevated body when the last chain breaks off, and you fall into his arms with a slight huff.

He slowly eases you down, letting your toes skim the floor before he lets you go. You dust your suit off, looking up at him with gratitude.

“Thanks.”

He rolls his eyes again, crossing his arms over his chest and quirking a brow. “What am I supposed to do with you, huh, mi vida?”

You let out a shy chuckle, cheeks heating up as your hand comes up to rub at the back of your neck.

“Save me from insane versions of you?”

He lets out a heavy sigh, muttering something in Spanish as he pinches the bridge of his nose. He glares at you as his hand comes up to give the back of your head a light slap. You yelp in surprise, shooting him your own glare as you grumble.

“Okay, smart mouth. Let’s get you out of here.” Miguel grumbles as he presses some things on his watch and a portal opens to HQ.

You sigh in relief giving him one last smile as you walk through before him. Miguel watches as you step completely through before turning his head to his variant. His eyes are twitching with consciousness, and Miguel sneers. He lets the portal die behind him as he turns away, approaching his twin.

The world is better off with one less Miguel, anyways.

[periprose]

Playstation Spidey is sooo blorbo- I love himmm. May I request something where Pete and Reader have been too preoccupied with studying and taking exams all week that when their date arrives on Saturday, they don't do anything but makeout instead cause they miss each other so much?🥲 (I just wish I had a Peter Parker to kiss😔)

I love him too and this idea is just 🤌🤌. I hope it's okay I made this a friends to lovers instead? :)

Your phone buzzes with a new message from Peter.

Peter: hey we still good for Saturday? the study date at the library?

Peter: sorry for not picking up earlier. Phys 403 is kicking my ass 🥹

You giggle to yourself. Peter had been so excited to see you this week- he was terribly busy with internships and FEAST and every single exam that was assigned this week.

You had half the workload he did, and you struggled to finish things, so you had no idea how he did it. It was quite irritating, not being able to catch up with Peter as often as you'd like, but you were hanging on for Saturday.

Even now- he strangely missed your calls and would usually pick up ASAP- and May's told you he's not at FEAST, so it's really confusing to you where he'd be. But you're not concerned, because you have exams to study for.

You: Yea we're still good pete

You: don't stress about it. worry about your exam

Peter: 🫡 will do ma'am

You laugh, picturing Peter saluting to himself.

/

The timer for your Shakespeare exam just rings as you hand it in to your professor, who gives you a firm, steely nod. You know how strict he is- he doesn't always allow for students to hand in things after the time's up, and even as you leave the classroom, you hear students pleading with him to let them hand in their exams.

You shrug to yourself, and turn the corner of one of the many hallways of Empire State University- bumping straight into Peter.

"Oh-!" You topple over, and although at your trajectory in the air you should've fallen over Peter, he somehow has enough strength to keep you upright in the air, holding you gently by the waist, and before you can think too much about his surprisingly strong capabilities, he's set you down again already.

"All good?" Peter asks, and you nod bashfully.

"Yeah. Just finished my Shakespeare exam. Not sure if I did all that well." You tell him, and Peter raises his eyebrows.

"With Strict Dr. Powell, huh?" Peter gives a wary glance past your shoulder, and then leans in extra close, seemingly not noticing how you fail to maintain eye contact. "Just between you and me, I'm pretty sure he's not actually tenured."

"What?" You stare up at him in surprise. "How else would he be qualified to teach a fourth year English course?"

"Well, let's just say I did a little sleuthing after getting a C- on my last essay. I know, I know what you're going to say-" Peter shushes you as you laugh, taunting him about an unusually low grade. "It was on Asimov, you know? Father of Science Fiction?"

"I think that was H.G. Wells, Pete."

"Right, whatever." But Peter's features bristle with that familiar fondness for you, and you smile softly at him as he continues. "I knew even if my essay wasn't perfect, a C- was really lowballing what it should've been. So I searched some of the school records, and he's actually named Powalski. ESU's letting him stay tenured even though he's only been a professor for five years. My guess is that they owe him some kind of favour."

"And that's why our poor student body has to worry about failing English classes this year, when they should be easy. Because of one crazy professor." You surmise, and Peter nods. "Still, I can't believe you went through the school records! How did you even access them?"

"Uhhhh..." Peter shrugs as he starts backing away, a slightly flustered look on his face. "Parker luck?"

"Peter, I thought that was supposed to mean bad luck." You retort, laughing over his antics.

"Yeah, I never said I wasn't in hot water for doing that." Peter jokes, and he flashes a peace sign at you. "I gotta head to my Physics exam. Talk to you later?"

Before you can respond, Peter suddenly squeezes your shoulder in a quick move, and he takes a moment, staring at your face, and your mouth, before dashing off. "I'm sure you did great on your exam, regardless!"

"Thanks." You're left with a sheepish smile that you shake off your face when Peter's far in the distance, unaware that he's got the same expression on his face.

/

Peter's kind of struggling a little bit with physics.

Sure, he's a total brainiac, and he's sure to ace it even with his current mood- he's just terribly distracted.

You smelt really good today. Like warm, vanilla-cinnamon goodness. Peter's heightened senses tell him you've got a new perfume.

But he's more focusing on your lips for some reason. Ugh, no. Peter knows why he focuses so much on your lips- you just happen to smile in the cutest, sweetest way.

And just now- you had laughed in the funniest way, your lips curling into a pout that Peter was sure was seared into his mind for good.

Oh, no. I'm a total goner. He gets back to his exam, ignoring this urge to kiss you.

/

There's a knock at your apartment door just as you're finishing tidying up. Your living room tends to be pretty ugly, and the last thing you want is for Peter to think you're a slob.

Peter calls your name through the door. "I'm not going to think you're anymore messy than I am. Stop cleaning! We gotta leave soon if we want to make it for our allotted study room time, and I just need to use the bathroom."

You shake your head, give yourself one last glance in the mirror, and then open the door.

"Finally. God, dude, you would think your apartment is a pigsty or something. I'm only going to be in here for five minutes." Peter jokes. "You would hate to see mine."

"Is that why you've never invited me there?"

"Uh, yeah. Otherwise you could crash whenever you wanted to there." Peter suddenly turns red. "I mean... you know, you're always tired after class and your apartment is further away from ESU than mine is."

"It's fine, Peter. No need for rambling." You reach forward, wanting to take the books out of his hands- you notice a slight scar on his palm. "Hey, what's that?"

"Ah, just an accident at Octavius' place. No big deal, it'll be gone before I know it." Peter randomly opens a door. "This the bathroom? No, it's a closet. Darn these misleading doors..."

"Down the hall, to the right, Peter."

He nods, and you suddenly feel a wave of giddy energy as he's gone. Yes, you've crushed on Peter for a while- you just don't think it's going to go anywhere since you're both so busy.

You're reapplying your lip balm when Peter wanders back to you a couple minutes later.

"Ah, should we go?" You say, slightly muffled as you continue reapplying. It's a delicious honeydew flavour- you can't help but eat your lip balm off your lips from time to time.

"Yeah..." Peter struggles to say something, anything, and you catch his eyes drifting from yours, to your lips.

"Is something wrong?" You look up at him uncertainly. "There wasn't enough toilet paper, was there?"

"Shoot. Might've used the last bit, sorry." Peter jokes, but he turns quiet, and he grows a little pink.

"Well, if that's all, let's get going." You put your lip balm back in your pocket, and move to get your coat out of the closet, but Peter grabs your arm with that too-quick motion he always seems to possess.

Peter wordlessly cradles your face- there's something echoing through his expression right now, affection, the kind, softness you've always known him to possess, but something else, too. Yearning.

You can't help but smile up slightly confused at him, not sure of his intentions, and while you're not stupid, you're not going to assume anything.

Peter doesn't hesitate and simply leans in and kisses you, a soft kiss that turns a lot more firm as you're pulled inwards by his hands, and you eagerly kiss him back, and you feel him grinning widely when he knows that you've wanted this as much as he had.

It's easy, it's always fun when it's with you, and he figures you both need stress relief anyways. Rather than studying chemistry in the library.

You reach upwards, and run your fingers through his brown, soft hair, and Peter groans ever so slightly against your mouth, which pleases you.

Suddenly he lets go, deeply red and looking a little woozy, but he still holds you close. "Sorry, I- I got a little carried away there."

"Don't be sorry. I wanted to do that too." You admit, a little shyly. "Are you okay with not studying?"

"Really? That's what's on your mind?" Peter looks genuinely a little aghast, even if he is joking. "I must've not kissed you hard enough."

Peter brings you to your couch, where you kiss him again, taking the lead in a way that makes his stomach flip-flop, not dissimilar to the way he feels when he free-falls off a building. You clamber onto his lap, trying to be gentle- and he pulls you down fully on him, wanting to feel every inch, every millimeter, even, against his body. There's an excited thump in his body for every squeeze he makes against you, and he feels his restraint leaving him when you suddenly sweep your tongue into his mouth.

Even when you leave room for air, Peter is insistent, reaching forward with more little kisses all over your cheek, and you reach back again for him, pressing your lips against his, feeling like there's no need to ruin this time with talking.

He really likes that. These are precious moments, few to be found considering how busy you both are, and Peter intends to make the most of it.

[wanderingelvis]

Hi, I really loved your headcanons for how Elvis would talk about an innocent reader to his friends, and I was wondering if you could write an imagine or short fic going more in depth on the mafia guy's not-so-pure feelings for the reader?

I love this suggestion, I hope what I've written is okay - not been feeling the most confident in my work lately! 🧚

🧚 Masterlist 🧚

Everything always manages to fly right over your pretty little head

Dirty jokes, condescending comments, telling looks

Even when someone has to sit you down and explain to you what's going on, sometimes you just still won't understand

Even though you try to understand, sometimes you'll nod along with wide eyes and those pouty lips, at everything that's being said just to try and seem like you're convincing someone, anyone

But it's what makes you utterly adorable to Elvis

And to the rest of the Memphis Mafia

You're so goddamn clueless and innocent that you instantly make anyone with a bit more knowledge than you feel special

You'll cling to them, ask them questions, listen to every word they have to say and try and understand it

And you'll make them feel like they're the most important person in the world to you at that moment

And goddamn, that's an addictive feeling for any man to feel

So it only made sense when Elvis moved you into Graceland with him and you became Elvis' little darling

And the Memphis Mafia's little darling by default

They're all infatuated with you in some way

And Elvis knows

He knows that he's got the prettiest, sweetest, most adorable little thing in the world

So he knows he ain't gonna be the only one to be blown away by you

There's a policy of "look but don't touch" when it comes to you

For no reason, other than your safety, should any of the Mafia try to get handsy with you

But oh boy, do they dream about it

They know better though, they know how possessive and protective Elvis is of you

"I catch any one of you fellas tryin' it on with my Y/N and I swear there'll be goddamn hell to pay."

Elvis tells them on afternoon

You never notice the stares from all of the men

Or the looks they exchange with each other whenever you twirl around or bend over slightly too much and your pretty little panties become exposed

And whilst as a collective, they intimidate many

How else did they get the name, 'Memphis Mafia'?

They don't intimidate you

No, in fact, you'll sit by Sonny all night during a poker game, having him explain the rules and help you with your hand

You'll ask him questions like he's the best poker player in the world all night

And he'll feel incredible because of it

You'll babble and babble at him with questions and he has to try and not laugh as he finds it just so endearing how clueless you are

But how totally determined you are to be able to play with all of the men

And when you play a great hand at the poker game because of Sonny's help, all of the big, old men will suddenly shower you with praise, making you blush and get all nervous and shy at the onslaught of attention

"Atta girl!"

Sonny will chuckle

And you giggle that angelic giggle and give Sonny a hug, thanking him for his help

Only for Sonny to be aware of the unspoken and invisible policy that hangs over your head and he catches Elvis' eye from across the poker table, and he's watching you and Sonny like a hawk

"Why don't you go show EP what you did, hey hon?"

Sonny will suggest, letting you run to Elvis who smiles warmly at you, and engulfs you in a cuddle

A cuddle that makes you feel practically giddy with delight as he effortlessly brings you onto his lap, holding your tummy with his strong arm, keeping you in place

"My clever girl."

Elvis coos in your ear as you sit in his lap, making you smile bashfully and squirm about

Many of the Mafia members watch Elvis' interactions with you and whilst they wouldn't admit it, they were jealous

So goddamn jealous

Wishing it was their laps that you would settle in

That it was the rings on their fingers that you'd absent-mindedly play with when the men were talkin' about things you couldn't understand

Wishing it was them that would end up taking you upstairs and undress you

That it would be them that you'd giggle to as they kissed your body all over

That it would be them that would fuck you endlessly and they'd hear your sweet little cries and moans all night long

Only for you to say thank you at the end

Because you're such a good girl

But it isn't them that gets to experience that, and it never will be

It's Elvis, it's always Elvis

He has your heart

But the members of the Memphis Mafia will settle for having even just a conversation with you

Because even if Elvis has you, at least they have their sinful thoughts of you

[oneoftheextras]

let me hear you | l.k

masterlist | got a request?

paring: leon kennedy x f!reader

request: “could you please do something with re4 leon where you're edging him and he's whimpering but trying not to?”

words: 3.9k

warnings: smut, unprotected piv, vocal male, hair pulling, oral (f receiving) almost-vouyerism, starts with dom!leon and sub!reader but quickly swaps, not beta read we die like men.

want a handwritten letter from a character?

The game you and Leon were playing was dangerous.

Lingering touches in sensitive areas when you passed each other, catching the other staring at inappropriate places with hooded eyes before they shook their head and bashfully looked away.

The atmosphere was electric with the tension between the two of you, but neither of you were allowing yourself to acknowledge it.

“Mi amigo,” Luis whispered to Leon on one of the rare occasions where you were walking ahead of them and just out of earshot, “When are you going to make a move, ah?”.

Leon faltered in his walking for a split second and it was enough for Luis to latch onto, “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Leon grumbled and continued to avoid eye contact with him.

“C’mon, I know you’re trying to be professional, but this is starting to get painful,” Luis chuckled but Leon ignored him.

Meanwhile you found an entry point to help you continue your journey and called them both over, pointing at the ledge you’d found.

Leon went first and then Luis, you were about to jump after them but the ground crumbled under your footing and you started to fall.

He sprung into action to try and catch you while dodging chunks of stone.

You landed on him but knocked him off his feet and onto his back, he immediately rolled you both over so he could shield you from any remaining debris.

He kept eye contact with you, “I’ve got you, it’s okay,” he weakly smiled and you nodded hurriedly.

A few bigger pieces hit him in the back and he grunted at the force but moved himself so he completely encompassed your form.

Once the earth had settled he didn’t move, he just continued to study you as you did him. His eyes shot down to your mouth and you saw his tongue dart out quickly to wet his lips.

He could kiss you right now, it felt like the right moment to, he could tell you wanted him to by the way your lips parted as you watched him with anticipation in your eyes.

“Come on, let’s get moving,” he broke himself away from the fantasy. He needed to keep himself focused on the mission.

The final straw was when the three of you were hiding from a mob of villagers, Luis had insisted that the two of you took the closet and he hid in the cabinet.

Leon’s body was directly against yours. You could tell he was doing his best not to crush you but there wasn’t enough space to be so considerate.

You didn’t think he was aware but from how hurriedly you’d both climbed into the closet one of Leon’s legs hand landed in between yours and a strap from one of his holsters was pressed lightly against your clit.

Mentally you prayed that he didn’t move. You were just thankful that the closet was shrouded in darkness so he couldn’t see your face.

“Leon-“ you whimpered rather suggestively, but his hand shot up to cover your mouth, “Don’t,” he warned, his voice slightly lower than normal, “Don’t say my name like that,”.

You could feel the hot air of his laboured breath against your face and that electricity was back in the air.

The feeling of having his large hand over your mouth made your knees tremble; you repositioned your footing and squirmed in his hold - in doing so, this made Leon have to adjust his own stance, accidentally pushing the holster further against your clit

An impulse jolt went through your body and a soft moan left your lips. “Fuck,” Leon breathed, his grip on your mouth getting ever so tighter, “Not now, please, not now,” he seemed to more be begging himself rather than you.

It didn’t take long for the sound of the mob to fade into the distance and Leon decided it was safe to leave the closet.

He held out his hand for you to step out and you gratefully took it.

“Have fun?” Luis smiled, and at first you didn’t know what he was implying until you followed his eye line and saw - for a split second - that Leon had maybe liked the proximity a little too much.

“Shut up, Luis,” Leon grumbled and headed out the front door. “Mi amor, you’re killing him,” he laughed lightly when Leon was out of earshot, and you followed after the two men.

Leon barely spoke for the rest of the evening, only single words whenever he absolutely had to. 

The three of you found a safehouse to hold up in for the night. He silently sat in the corner checking over his guns as you and Luis talked, but you could feel his stare into the side of your face.

“I-” Luis said, standing up from the couch he was sitting on, “-am going to find us something to eat,” he stretched and walked to the door of the small house you’d chosen as your accommodation for the night.

He stepped out of the door, but before he could fully leave he leaned back in, “I might be a really really long time, you know how hard it is to find something edible around here,” and with a cheeky smile he clicked the door shut behind him.

It was only when Luis had fully left that you got the courage to look at Leon, and you immediately wished you hadn’t. His hands worked his guns, while his eyes were focused on you the same way a lion would observe a gazelle.

“What?” you laughed nervously, but he didn’t answer. He didn’t need to. The tension in the air was painfully obvious and neither of you had stopped thinking about what happened in the closet.

His body against yours. His hand against your mouth. The way you moaned. The way he struggled to get his words out.

But you weren’t going to be the one to make the first move, you wanted him to.

In a not-so-subtle way you bent down at the hips to undo your shoes, presenting your ass to him and you heard a sharp inhale from behind you. A small giggle came out of you maybe a little bit louder than you’d intended.

“You’re playing with me,” he eventually said. You turned around, “I would never,” you feigned innocence, watching him continue to reload his gun as he said your name with the same warning tone he’d used before.

A lump of saliva got caught in your throat and you struggled to swallow it, “What are you planning?” he put his gun down with the others and gave you his full attention.

“I’m not planning anything, I’m just waiting,” you shrugged coyly, walking backwards until you could comfortably lean against the wall, “For?” Leon tilted his head to the side slightly, trying to read you from across the room. “You,” you smiled with your tongue between your teeth.

Leon stood from his chair and noted the way you straightened yourself up with anticipation, “Is that an invitation?”, he asked and you tutted, “If you’re looking for permission then this is me giving you permission,” you smiled at how serious he always seems to be.

He walked over until he was stood in front of you, his fame towering over yours. His hand came up to cup your chin, his thumb tracing your bottom lip, “Are you sure?” he hesitated, “Don’t make me ask twice,” you challenged him.

He dipped his thumb into your mouth and you opened it for him willingly, “We shouldn’t,” he sounded as though he was trying to talking himself out of it, but when your tongue massaged the tip of his thumb that seemed to be the breaking point.

“Fuck it,” he muttered, removing his thumb from your mouth and placing his hand on the back of your head to pull you into a passionate kiss, while the other supported your lower back.

The sound of metal clinked as you fumbled to get the latch off of his belt buckle, “Do you need a hand?” Leon pulled his lips away from yours for long enough to lightly mock you.

With the fingers that were holding his belt, you pulled his waistband towards you, “Do you want me to stop?” you matched his energy, “God, no,” he breathed, latching his mouth back onto yours in a feverish kiss.

You almost lost concentration with how desperate he was to kiss you, but you still managed to undo his belt. His mouth travelled from your lips to the underside of your jaw as his hands undid your pants much smoother than you had his.

He helped you wiggle out of them by descending alongside them until he was crouched in front of you. As soon as he saw the slight damp patch on your panties, he left an open mouth kiss on your mound.

You gasped with surprise and he chuckled, lifting up one of your legs to rest on his shoulder. He moved the fabric to the side and left a single lick along your folds.

“Leon!” you panted as he dove into you, swirling his tongue around your clit and making your hips buck forward. His tongue was warm and soft against you, some movements were planned and precise, others he seemed to lose himself in you as he became sloppier.

You laced your fingers in his hair and tugged gently, trying to pull his face off of you - a low groan vibrated out of his throat and into your core. Your chest swelled and you let your head fall back against the wall, for someone who ran his mouth with silly comments, he was proving that corny one-liners wasn’t the only thing it was good for.

Every buck of your hips had Leon gripping your thighs even tighter to keep you still. He couldn’t breathe from both how hard his heart was beating, and how he refused to stop tasting you for even a second.

He was entranced by you. The small sounds you were making when he curled his tongue inside you, and how they seemed to burst from you when he sucked on your clit.

You could feel your orgasm building up already by the way your walls fluttered and tingled, but you betrayed your own urges and tugged on Leon’s hair again to tell him to stop.

It’s not that you didn’t like what he was doing, and if you had the opportunity you would probably let him do it all day and night, but unfortunately you didn’t have such a luxury.

Leon took your hint and pulled away from you reluctantly. He looked so unbelievably good on his knees in front of you, licking the mixture of his saliva and your mess off of his lips, while his chest heaved as he tried to get his breath back.

“You okay?” he panted with concern lacing his voice, “Yeah,” you sighed, “That was great,” you confessed - to which Leon immediately tried to bury his head between your legs again, but you held him back by his hair.

He stayed there, mouth open and looking up at you, it was an image of art.

“We don’t have time,” you explained, and while his eyebrows furrowed into a small scowl you could see that his eyes understood what you meant.

Your grip in his hair loosened and his hands travelled up your sides as he stood - your leg sliding off of his shoulder and landing comfortably into the crevice between his forearm and bicep.

“In that case, I want to fuck you,” he said in a low voice as though he was worried about someone else hearing something so filthy coming out of his mouth, “Can I?” he tilted his head to the side and continued to leave painfully light open mouth kisses along your throat.

You nodded quickly, accidentally bumping his head off of your neck, “Please,” your voice came out as a whisper.

Leon’s kisses stopped for a moment but he kept his head nestled in the space between your neck and shoulder, you could feel the hairs on your neck start to stand from his gentle exhales.

His other hand left your body for a moment and you were going to complain until you felt the smooth head of his cock rub against your entrance. You wiggled your hips impatiently, and felt him smile against your skin.

He isolated the movements to rub himself against your clit, making a trail of noises spill from your lips, the heat in your core from before building up again.

“L-Leon, please!” you whined in protest but he ignored you, instead he went faster, momentarily running himself through your folds so he could collect some of your wetness and continue his assault.

Your noises got louder and this only spurred him on more, “I’m- I’m-” you couldn’t get the words out fast enough as your first climax made your brain go foggy; and a gentle moan interrupted your attempt at a sentence. 

Leon leaned backwards to watch your hips buck and you clench around nothing, a devilish smile on his face. 

He didn’t give you time to enjoy the come down as he rubbed himself against you again, feeling just how much his actions had effected you, “God, you’re so wet,” he commented in such a quiet voice he didn’t mean for you to hear him.

The overstimulation on you clit was too much, and you were about to tell him so when he prodded at your hole. Your breath caught in your throat as he gently pushed his hips forward, you felt the pressure gradually increase until your body gave way and allowed him inside you.

He closed his eyes and groaned deeply at the feeling of your walls slowly stretch around him with every additional inch he gave you. He didn’t let himself fully sheath himself inside you, he pulled his hips back slowly and thrusted back up, savouring the image of him disappearing into you.

All the while you were biting your bottom lip trying not to sound like a bitch in heat with tears starting to water your eyes, “F-Fuck, you feel so good,” he sighed and raised his arm - and your leg - a little bit higher to give him better access.

You couldn’t hold back your moans at the new angle he’d put you in. His gentle thrust faltered for a second when he heard you, but quickly continued with a new found roughness - his hips snapped up into you, bottoming out with a sensitive whimper from Leon.

He immediately cleared his throat and continued his new pace, every push of his hips making your ass and back hit the wall with a thud, if anyone was on the other side they would know exactly what was going on.

“I, ah!, ooh-” Leon attempted to say something but quickly forgot whatever it was, completely drunk on you. You’d never heard these types of noises from Leon and it was making your skin prickle and a shiver go up your spine. You wanted to hear more.

Tracing your fingers up his arms and neck, they found themselves in his hair again. You tugged on a clump of his hair with experimental hardness and a small whimper came out of him, lighting your insides on fire again. 

His thrusts became harder and faster while his cheeks flushed with embarrassment, he returned to kissing your neck as a way to hide his face from you.

“Leon,” you moaned to try and get his attention, he was almost so lost in you that he didn’t hear you but when you say his name so prettily he can’t help but respond.

He move his head back to look at your face, eyes hooded with arousal, “I want to ride you,” you stated and saw his eyes widen slightly with excitement.

“O-Okay,” he nodded, glancing over his shoulder to the chair he was sat on before all this started. He began to pull out of you but muttered a “No, no, no,” to himself as he bottomed out in you again, making an unexpected yell leave you.

He scooped up your other leg and you instantly wrapped your arms around his neck for support. He didn’t immediately move away from the wall, he instead stared down at where the two of you were connected now that he had your legs spread for him.

He thrusted into you a few more times, his lower lip sucking in between his teeth and his eyebrows screwing together. He shook his head seemingly shaking himself out of whatever trance he’d put himself in and walked you both over to the chair.

When he sat down he’d placed both of his hands on your hips so you didn’t slam down onto him and hurt yourself, although a part of you wished he hadn’t, but of course he was being considerate.

You took a moment to find a good placement for your knees, and then lowered yourself onto him, he felt bigger and thicker than he had against the wall.

“Ah-ah, mmm,” he caught his moan by clenching his jaw and you felt disappointed. You rhythmically but slowly moved your hips, enough to allow you both to adjust to the new angle.

Bringing a hand up to cup his jaw, you kissed him deeply and increased your speed, feeling his lips quiver against your own and the vibration of trapped noises staying within his mouth.

“Let me hear you,” you spoke against his lips before kissing him again. His grip on your grips got harder and you gasped when he thrust up into you, obviously an accident, “S-Sorry, ah, I- oh fuck!” he scrunched his eyes closed, “I didn’t mm-mean to,”.

You put your hand under his chin and he opened his eyes to look into yours, his pupils blown out with arousal, “I said, let me hear you,” you repeated yourself, this time making sure he heard you.

“H-Hear me?” he panted, his chest rising and falling drastically, “Yeah, I want you to let out those pretty noises,” you ran your thumb over his bottom lip as you started to drop your hips down onto him harder.

His cheeks heated up again and for a moment he tried to hide his face in your neck again but you pushed him back in the chair with a hand firmly placed on his chest.

“I want to hear how I make you feel,” you made eye contact with him as you spoke and saw him swallow hard our of your peripherals, “O-Okay,” he nodded again, “I can t-try,” he confirmed to you.

You brought your hips upwards, feeling the drag of his cock start to leave you and just when he was almost all the way out you slammed them back down again until your pubic bone met his.

He threw his head back against the chair and a long groan left him, you felt his chest vibrating under your hand.

Spurred on by the goal of hearing every sound that Leon could make, you bounced on him until your thighs started to burn and kept going. He maneuvered you with his hands on your hips, lifting you up and pulling you back down onto him again.

You rolled your hips and felt him hit your g-spot, you fell forward onto him with a particularly loud moan, but he continued bucking his hips up into you. Driven by the feeling of your walls pulsating around him, “Let go, please please, let it go,” he stroked a hand through your hair and watched you come undone around him.

This time he let the moans fall from him freely.

“I’ve wanted, aah!, to do this for - oh fuck fuck fuuck!- so l-long,” he rambled and it was like music to your ears, and you could tell he was close to cumming too by how desperate his hands were spearing you onto his cock.

But you wanted to play with him more, you weren’t ready to give up the symphony of sounds that you were audience to.

“H-How long?” you asked, barely able to catch your own breath, but declining your strokes down to a torturously slow pace. He tried to move you himself, but you put your hands over his as a warning.

A whimper fell from his lips when he realised what you were doing and you felt his cock jump inside of you, “Please,” he begged you, “Don’t stop!”. His lower waterline was becoming shiny with tears that threatened to spill over.

“How long?” you asked him again with firmness in your voice and his eyes met yours again, “After the first night, oh fuck please go faster-”, “-Carry on,” you interrupted his plea. “It was when you-you called me pretty boy,” he panted.

That night was easy to recall, you’d made a one off comment the first night you were together. He’d told you to take the bed while he kept watch out of the only window that wasn’t boarded up, the sunset was hitting his face perfectly and you’d complimented him.

More whines came out of him while you were recollecting the moment he was referencing, it was so long ago now.

“I’m so close, shit aah please-” he urged you, your name coming off of his tongue in a high pitched whimper, “Please let me cum!” he begged and you felt a jolt of electricity fly up your spine.

You were about to give in to his demands when the sound of singing entered both of your ears. The two of you froze in place until you recognised it as Luis.

“Shit!” you cursed jumping off of Leon’s lap and rushing back to where both of your pants lay crumpled on the floor by the wall.

Throwing Leon his underwear and combat pants, you searched desperately for your own, only finding your jeans.

Luis’ singing got louder and you knew you didn’t have time to find them anymore, you hurriedly pulled up your jeans and re-buckled them - glancing towards Leon who was fully dressed again and clipping up the remainder of his tactical gear.

Leon sat back down on the chair and grabbed one of the guns he hadn’t finished reassembling, and you jumped back onto the counter that you were sat on before Luis left, just in time for the man in question to open the door.

The three of you stayed there in silence as Luis looked between you and Leon being exactly where he’d left you.

“I got us some grub,” he finally said, closing the door behind him and holding up two black basses. He made his way over to the small kitchen area, stopping for a moment to smile at you with almost a knowing look.

You furrowed your eyebrows and mouthed a ‘What?’ to him. Instead of answering he glanced down to the bottom of the counter you were sat on; you followed his eyeline to see your panties staring back at you.

Returning Luis’ gaze, he gave you a smirk before walking into the kitchen, “Also, your hair is a mess, Leon!” he shouted from the other room and Leon glanced at you in shock. 

You chuckled to yourself softly, watching Leon try and reorganise his hair and still very much hard in his pants, with only the thought of continuing what you started as soon as possible on your mind.

pls dm me any requests for leon or luis

[starrayblogs]

Not So Rock-Hearted || Floyd (Trolls) x Reader

a/n: AHH, HAPPY NEW YEARS/EVE EVERYONE! i decided to get this chapter finish, so you can start off the new year with your favorite emo troll :3 hehe, anyway have a fun read! likes/reblogs are appreciated, and asks are welcomed

tags: @brights-place @crowleysthings

✩ previous chapter

vi. The Energy Shifting

You watch Floyd tune his guitar to his satisfaction while you sit on the floor, holding your guitar in front of you. He runs through the strings for the final time before smiling and settling down in front of you. 

“Sorry that took a while.” He says.

“No worries, I know how it is.” You chuckles. “Wanna go first?” You tilt your head to his guitar, gesturing for him to play.

“You don’t want to?” He raises a brow and gives a sided smile. 

“Sly pop troll.” You comment, smirking a bit and squinting your eyes. “What do I get?” You lean back.

“Hmm… Let’s play a game. For every song that we play, we get to ask each other a question.” Floyd smiles, and you hum. You position your fingers on the strings of a song you’re already thinking of.

You look back up to him, meeting his eyes with a relaxed smirk, your eyes half-lidded as you let out a short laugh. “I hope you have a lot of songs ready, Cotton Candy.” You don’t catch his eyes widening and blinking at your comment. You play the opening riff to one of your favorite rock songs for a bit before ending and looking at him again.

He claps for a bit, and you playfully bow your head. “Ask away.” He leans back, his body supported by his bed behind him. 

“Hmm…” You tap the body of your guitar gently as you think before a question comes up. “Oh, what was your role in the band?” You ask, adjusting so that you're leaning your elbows on the side of your guitar.

“Oh, that’s…” He chuckles, bashfully scratching the back of his head as his eyes avert you. “I was the sensitive one in the band.” He looks back at you with a shy smile, the curve reaching his eyes slightly.

“Shut up…” You snicker, leaning a bit forward. “You were the emo one?”

“Hey, one song, one question.” Floyd points, laughing lightly as you raise your hands in surrender.

“You’re right.” You say, but one of your raised hands twists at the wrist to face him. “Then, I believe it’s your turn.” You watch as he sits up straight as your hands return to your guitar, his hands on his as well.

When his hands are in position, he glances up at you briefly before smiling and beginning to play a song. When he sings lyrics, it takes you back a bit, but it physically brings you forward in hopes of hearing him as clearly as possible (you’re psyching yourself, come on).

His voice is soft, and the song he sings is different from the ones you’ve heard from Brozone. You can tell he’s only singing the chorus because of how short his performance is, but it excites you for more later.

“I didn’t know we were supposed to be singing.” You mumble, your chest light when your eyes meet again.

“I just prefer to, but you don’t have to.” He replies, chuckling softly.

“Is that a Brozone song?” You ask, tilting your head slightly but he shakes his head as he chuckles again.

“You don’t play fair, huh?” He smirks slightly and your eyes widen a bit, your cheeks tinting embarrassingly. “It’s my turn to ask a question.”

“Yeah, yeah…” You wave a dismissive hand, clearing your throat with a fist.

“Are rock trolls really as edgy as they appear?” You snort at his question, quickly shaking your head with a sided grin.

“Maybe, maybe not.” You reply, not directly answering the question.

“Come on, that’s not an answer.” Floyd pries. You hum, your face softening when you meet his eyes, and you see how they were waiting for you to speak.

“No, not really. If anything, we’re actually pretty lazy.” You run a hand through your hair. “To you, it looks cool, edgy,” you explain. “But we feel the same things as every other troll, we’re just a little more rough up front.” You shrug your shoulders, preparing your fingers to play another song.

“Hm…” Floyd hums. “It’s a good thing that you’re the first rock troll I know. You don’t seem too rough around the edges.” Your head looks up from the guitar at his comment, raising a brow.

“Am I not cool to you, Cotton Candy?” You tilt your head.

“You are cool. I’m just saying that…” He pauses as he tries to properly form his thoughts. “I think that you’re less rough side, is just as interesting as the rest of you.”

You blink, shying your eyes away from him to the guitar. You can feel your cheeks slightly warm up as you reply, “Thanks…” You reply softly. “You’re interesting too.” You return the compliment before beginning to play a new song.

When you finish and lock eyes with his again, he nods his head as a gesture to you to ask your question. “That song you sang… Did you write that?” You ask, smiling a bit. 

He chuckles. “It’s one of my many, yes.”

“I liked it. Your voice suits the song.” You say, watching him subtly place a hand on his throat for a moment as he chuckles.

“Thank you… I wrote a lot when I went on a solo career.” He follows, and your ears perk up. Now you know what to ask next. “My turn,” he says, playing another one of his songs on the guitar, his voice calm. 

You clap similarly to how he clapped for you earlier once he was finished, chuckling.

“You said you liked my song. Do you really not enjoy pop songs anymore?” Your smile falters as your eyes flutter a bit, turning your eyes to the floor. “You don’t have to answer if you don’t feel like it.” He quickly reassures, and you glance at him with a weak, sided smile before closing yor eyes.

You take a breath in. “It’s fine, I was just surprised by your question.” You explain, running a thumb over a string on your electric guitar. “To answer, I don’t sing pop anymore. I’m not saying I can’t, maybe I still can, but you know…” You shrug a shoulder. “It’s easier for me to express myself with rock music now, but I’m not against other genres. I still enjoy some pop songs, actually.” You chuckle.

“Really?” Floyd tilts his head and you tut him.

“One song, one question.” You remind him of his rules and he blinks. He chuckles and watches you position your hands to play another song. “Can’t seem to follow your own rules, hm?” You smirk before glancing down to focus on the song you’re playing.

“I like that one.” Floyd comments when you finish the riff.

You smile before relaxing your grip on your guitar to ask your question. “So, you mentioned having a solo career? What happened to being in a band?” You tilt your head and Floyd’s face noticeably darkens.

His brows furrow, and his lip bites itself. He hides his eye underneath his bang again, tightly gripping the guitar. Your face softens in worry.

“Floyd? Sorry, did I..? You don’t have to answer that one if you don’t want to…” Your voice is unsure as your hand comes toward him to comfort him, but it stops mid air. You flinch it back when he inhales deeply and his face softens, raising a hand.

“It’s fine. You didn’t know… but I don’t think I can answer that yet. Maybe next time.” Floyd gives you a smile, relaxing his grip on the guitar. You frown, and he notices it. “It’s okay, really.”

“Sorry, I… I didn’t mean to make you feel bad.” You murmur, shifting to get ready to stand up. “I can go if-”

“No, please.” Floyd reaches out to you and you stiffen. “Stay.” He tells you, placing a hand on the side of your guitar to keep you where you were. “Really, it’s okay. You didn’t mean it, don’t be sorry.” He says softly, moving his bangs to show the sincerity in his eyes. There’s light in them—light that hopes you'll take his word.

You meet his eyes, but avert them to his hand on your guitar. You blink, taking a moment to think. When you look up again, his eyes never waver with that glint. “Okay…” You murmur, and his face brightens until it reaches his eyes.

“You can ask me another question.” Floyd pulls his hand away from your guitar, nudging his head gently as he leans back with a smile. 

You blink as you try to think about another question. “What do you think of your brothers?” You ask, what you think is, a safe question.��

“They’re the best brothers anyone could ask for.” Floyd chuckles. “We’ve had our bumpy moments, but I’m glad to finally be with them again.” He taps on his guitar lightly, and the way he answers leaves you more curious.

Your face relaxes at his smile while he thinks of his brothers. “Do you still want to play?” You ask softly.

“I’m okay if you’re okay.” You nod your head at his reply and he smiles a bit wider as he gets ready for another song. He plays a quick chorus, but his voice helps you further relax again. You stare at each other for a bit before Floyd asks his question, “Do…” He hesitates a moment. “Do you want to-”

“Floyd, are you in there?” Poppy interrupts him, asking if he’s seen you around. “It’s getting late and Barb wants to say goodbye before she goes back!” 

You both turn to the direction of her voice before lowly getting up, Floyd opening the door to his pod to reveal the both of you inside. Outside were Poppy, Viva, Barb, and Floyd’s brothers on a branch right outside the pod.

“There you are! I was worried you got glitter bombed somewhere.” Barb is the first one to speak up, and you snicker, stepping out of Floyd’s pod to walk to her. “So..?” She smirks, crossing her arms and tilting her head. 

You squint your eyes and cock your head to the side. “Not tonight, Barb.” She raises her hands in surrender, and you shake your head with a short laugh.

“Enjoy your weekend, alright? I’ll see you soon.” Barb holds out her fist, and you bump it with yours. “Don’t rock too hard without me.” She winks, nudging you with her elbow which makes you groan, and her laugh.

“You make me not want to go back after the weekend.” You sarcastically remark, crossing your arms.

“I’m sure you’d enjoy that extended time, huh?” She teases, and you’re blushing now. 

“Get home safe, Barb.” You grit through a smile, waving her goodbye. She laughs one last time as she walks away, waving at you. When she jumps down the tree, you stop waving and keep an eye on her until she’s out of sight.

“Yay, another slumber party!” Viva exclaims, rushing to pick you up in a hug. You smile, trying to hug her back as best you can. “We’ll make peppermint candy necklaces tonight.” She whispers as she sets you down.

“That sounds great, Veev.” You smile. 

“Were you guys just in here the whole time?” Bruce tilts his head and raises a brow.

You turn your head away; your blush hasn’t yet faded from Barb’s teasing. “We were just getting to know each other more.” Floyd answers for the both of you, stepping forward with a smile.

“Woah, is that a new guitar?” Clay points out his guitar, your gift, with a surprised grin. “Flexin’ that talent, I see, I see.” He nods approvingly, pursing his lips.

“It was a gift.” He glances to you, and you catch his gaze for a moment. The rest of them look amongst each other and connect the dots, Poppy and Viva giggling amongst themselves.

“Well, we better get some shut eye so we can wake up early and get straight to the fun tomorrow!” Poppy announces, receiving agreements from all over the group. 

“You sleepin’ with us in the bunker tonight, Floyd?” Clay asks, catching his younger brother’s attention. The rest of his brothers had begun walking in the direction of Branch’s bunker.

“Oh, yeah, I’ll catch up in a bit.” Floyd replies, waving his hand to indicate that Clay and the rest of his brothers can go on ahead. Clay nods, making his way down the tree to catch up with his brothers.

“Wanna start our sleepover?” Viva turns to you with a grin. When your arms unfurl with a smile to answer, but Floyd speaks up again, rather hurriedly.

“Actually, I just need to ask a question if it’s okay.” He says, stepping next to you. The sisters’ eyes widen at his actions.

“Oh, that’s totally okay!” Viva replies, smiling and slipping her hand around Poppy’s arm as she looks at you. “We’ll be waiting at the pod, okay?”

“Oh…” You blink repeatedly, confused. “Yeah, okay. I’ll see you guys there.” You wave each other goodbye before looking to Floyd. You remember that he didn’t finish his question earlier. “Oh, you got interrupted by Poppy, right?”

“Yeah.” 

“What is it that you were gonna ask?” You turn to face him, curious.

You watch as he breathes in deeply, looking down at his feet before looking back to you. “Remember how I said that you’re less rough side is interesting?” You nod your head slowly, and he continues. “I think that everything about you is interesting, and I was hoping to get to know you better.”

You feel your cheeks heat up again, your hand coming up to hold your arm.

“I was gonna ask…” He takes another deep breath. “Do you want to spend tomorrow together?”

You blink as your eyes widen. “What? Like… just the two of us?” You ask, and he nods with a nervous look in his eye.

“If it’s okay with you.” He smiles softly, but there’s still a nervous glint in his eyes.

You take a moment to think, your heart racing in your chest. Your blush has reached to the tips of your ears at the thought of spending the weekend with Floyd. You want to, but there’s a part inside of you that’s saying this is dangerous, that this good thing will be taken away from you. But you remember Barb’s words, and let that fear subside and hope emerge. You want this. So…

“Okay… I’d like that, Cotton Candy.” You smile softly, and the light in his eye highlights how bright his entire face morphs at your reply. You’re both happy. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

[sunsetsimon]

experience.

older price x reader

mentions of alcohol and drinking, takes place at a bar, tiny bit ooc

i've been giggling and swinging my feet to this fucker all god damn day so here's the first part of my older boyfriend price fic. and yes i wrote this on my lunch break im fucking crazy

─────── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───────

your face twists into a grimace, gulping the shot of whiskey that didn't seem to be going down any easier. the liquid moves through your body, allowing your tense shoulders to slouch. you chase the dark liquor with water, rinsing your mouth to rid of the bitter taste that lingers on your tongue.

a low chuckle vibrates from the man next to you, "havin' a rough night?"

you finally look over, having been absorbed in your own little world the whole time. the man beside you is definitely older than you, a full beard and light blue eyes. he's extremely well built, broad shoulders and strong arms are obvious even through his thick black hoodie.

"more like a rough week," you reply, huffing a sigh. he nods, a knowing look on his face as he knew exactly how you felt.

"n’ i buy you a drink?" he offers, taking the last big swig of his own cup, the ice clinking against the glass as he places it back on the counter.

usually you'd say no, turning down any attempt for mingling, uninterested in the typical men trying to get in your pants. but this time you agree, enticed by this mysterious british man beside you on a friday night.

"m' john," he reaches his hand out to shake yours, nearly engulfing yours. his hands are warm and rough, but still soft enough to desire his touch. shaking your hand gently, he repeats your name once you introduce yourself, "beautiful name."

john orders another round of the whiskey you'd had, tapping his shot glass against yours in cheers. you watch as he downs the brown liquor down easily, adam's apple bobbing in his throat. fueled by confidence, you throw yours back and swallow it in one gulp, the bitter taste less intense this time around.

"atta girl," he nods approvingly, eyes lingering on the drop that fell from your bottom lip, trailing down your chin. before you can reach up to wipe it, his thumb swipes across your chin, grazing your lip. your eyes are glued to his, watching as he raises the pad of his thumb to his own lips, sucking the droplet off.

you gulp, taken aback by the boldness of this man you'd just met. your heart thumps in your chest, butterflies threatening to erupt and fly around your stomach. bashfully you turn away, a sudden heat on your cheeks. it's just the alcohol.. right?

john continues to talk with you for an hour, only ordering another drink, making sure you drink more water in between. from what he’d seen, you were working to catch a buzz, wanting to ease the stress of the day. he can tell you’re younger, less experienced with being able to handle alcohol, a sway to your small body now.

the drinks were hitting you, your eyes heavy and voice a pitch lower. your bar stools were pulled closer, thighs against each other as you leaned against the bar, completely enamoured with john. his big hand is on your thigh, fingers lightly squeezing the plump skin. he's tipsy, but rarely does he drink himself to the point of drunkenness.

"so what are you doing around here?" you ask, only slightly slurred, "obviously you're from the UK, y'know with the accent and everything."

he nods, rubbing his hand across his beard, smoothing the long, full hairs down. the fresh smell of his cologne drifts to you as he moves around, and you swear to yourself to never forget the scent.

"just spendin' some time 'ere, a break from everythin," john shrugs nonchalantly, vague with his answer on purpose. though you'd talked about yourself tonight, john was closed off, preferring to talk about topics that weren't personal.

all you knew was he's british, single, works out a lot, and reads. he professionally dodged your question about his job too after you explained your shitty one. he intrigued you, but part of you knew you needed to go home, the buzz turning into a light headache now. taking a deep breath, you finish the rest of your water before sliding off of your chair.

"well, i had a great night, john. i've got to get some sleep, though," you laugh, sliding your jacket back on and grabbing your bag.

"let me walk you out, it's too late for you to go alone."

before you can protest, he pays the tab, shoving his phone and keys into his sweatpants pocket. you realize how tall he is as he leads you outside, his body seeming to tower over yours.

the night air is cold on your body, shivering as he walks you to the uber parked just outside of the bar. john opens the door for you, leaning down to kiss your cheek, his facial hair tickling your soft skin.

"g'night love. get home safe."

"night john. can i see you again?" you ask as you climb into the car, setting your bag down on the seat.

"won't be 'ere long, love," he shakes his head, "i'll think about you."

john closes the door, stepping back and watching as the uber drives off. he wishes he was in your hometown under better circumstances, not just killing time on his mission. he thinks about you the rest of the night, replaying your conversations in his head.

he really wants to see you again soon.

[bumblesimagines]

“shit, i wasn’t supposed to enjoy that as much as i did.”

- Sarah Cameron

“shit, i wasn’t supposed to enjoy that as much as i did.”

pronouns: he/him/his

timeline is iffy in this one but implied to take place somewhere in the 18 month timeskip

Everything had gotten so complicated over the course of a year. Her summer had started off with a bang and took a turn for the worst, from her impulsive relationship with John B to joining the Pogues to the treasure hunts. She'd planned her summer to be one filled with fun and family bonding time with her most recent boyfriend, and instead, she ended up with no family, no boyfriend, and enough tears to fill the ocean. At eighteen she was an adult and heavily known for her disappearances, Ward, and finding long-lost treasure.

Which was why she was thankful for Kiara and Cleo's endless supply of support. The two girls took Sarah by the arms and pulled her out of the guest bedroom in the Carrera house to take her to a fun party the graduating class had hosted. Many of their classmates were preparing to take off to elite schools while she remained in Kildare with no diploma and a murky future ahead of her.

"Come on, girl! Lighten up a little!" Cleo smiled, brushing some of her braids over her shoulder and offering her a red solo cup. Sarah sighed quietly and took the cup tentatively, clutching the cup close to her chest and looking around at some of the people she once considered good friends.

"Listen, I love JB. He's like a brother to me," Kiara began and paused to sip her drink, eyes gleaming with delight. "But you need to forget about him for the night!"

"Look around, let loose." Cleo bumped her hip against Sarah's, a laugh falling from her lips as she swung an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. Cleo playfully squinted her eyes and searched the crowd for someone to call over. Sarah leaned into Cleo's side and lifted the cup to her glossy lips, already feeling some nerves bubbling up in her stomach at the thought of speaking with an old friend, or worse, an old fling. Cleo suddenly perked up at her side and lifted a finger toward the crowd. 

"Actually, I-"

"Hey, you! Pretty boy! Yeah, you! C'mere!" Cleo shouted and waved whoever she'd chosen over, prompting Sarah to peek around the taller girl. Her eyes widened slightly at the sight of a familiar face walking over with a smile and cup in hand. It'd been months since Sarah last even thought of (Y/N) (L/N), someone she'd once considered a friend and even a potential future boyfriend. And now, he walked toward them, completely oblivious to her friend's plans. His eyes found her and his smile widened, arms stretching out and enveloping her in an embrace. 

"Good to see you, Goldilocks!" He laughed, his cologne washing over her like a tidal wave and bringing back memories of the times she playfully wore his letterman jackets during games. His arms tightened around her waist and her feet left the ground as he heaved her up into his arms and gave her a quick spin. Surprised laughter tumbled out of her and she clung onto his shoulders, careful not to spill the contents in her cup. She caught the knowing look exchanged between Cleo and Kiara and felt her cheeks flush with heat.

"You know each other?" Cleo questioned once Sarah planted her feet back on the ground, one of her brows raised and the ends of her lips curled into a smirk. Sarah breathlessly chuckled and tucked some hair behind her ear, her eyes bashfully flickering between the ground and the faces around her. 

"We were in the same friend group with Kelce and the others." She explained, finding an ache for his warmth when he pulled away to greet her two friends. Cleo hummed lowly and clapped a hand over (Y/N)'s shoulder as she sent her blonde friend a wink.

"Well, I guess you two got lots to catch up on, right? We best leave you to it then!" Cleo snaked her arm around Kiara's shoulder and led the brunette away, casting another mischievous grin over her shoulder at the two. Sarah's lips parted to protest but the two quickly disappeared into the crowd, leaving her with her former friend. Humming, (Y/N) beckoned her toward a quieter area in the backyard and led her to some lawn chairs.

"I heard you've had a crazy year, Goldilocks." (Y/N) smiled at her as he sat, and for a moment things felt normal. The treasure hunts, her turbulent relationship with John B, the constant fleeing from danger dissipated with just one sweet smile from a jock she'd spent so many years overlooking. Sarah breathed without a heaviness in her chest and returned the smile.

"That's an understatement." She chuckled and sat down on the chair beside him, swirling the contents of her cup before lifting it to her lips again.

"Your boyfriend and his friends are getting something for discovering the gold, right?" (Y/N) tilted his head, eyes slightly widened with curiosity. "I can't imagine following someone out to Venezuela, but I guess that means you're a real ride or die, huh?"

"He didn't seem to think that." Sarah inhaled sharply, gaze drifting away from him. "We broke up. I, uh... I realized I only liked him 'cause he was something new and different from other guys on Figure Eight. He was more exciting than Topper at the time but... in the casual, normal moments we just didn't really click, you know? I thought I loved him. I just loved what came with being with him. And he loved that too. He got to be the guy who bagged Sarah Cameron. He... He was like Topper in that sense." 

"I mean, I'd brag too if I had you. You're a catch, Goldilocks." Her face flushed as he laughed quietly, a playful smile on his face. Sarah turned her head back toward him, the gentle wind pushing some loose strands of hair over her face. Before she could brush them out of the way, (Y/N) reached out to tuck them behind her ear.

Familiarity knawed at her back, reminding her of her previous mistakes of jumping from guy to guy too quickly. But when (Y/N)'s finger brushed along her jawline as he retracted his hand, she took another deep breath and leaned forward. Her lips clashed against his and (Y/N) made a muffled noise of surprise, only needing a few seconds to process before his hand cupped the back of her head. A prickle of guilt stabbed into her stomach, a feeling she detested considering she was single and free to do as she pleased. When she nearly found herself pouting as (Y/N) pulled back, the guilt vanished. The other jocks whooped and hollered at them before calling (Y/N) over for a beer-drinking competition. 

"We should meet up later." (Y/N) flashed a less-than-innocent smirk before standing and leaving the blonde with her thoughts. Sarah's grip on her cup tightened and she slumped back in the lawn chair.

“Shit, I wasn’t supposed to enjoy that as much as I did.”

[goldenfigtree]

Let Me Prove My Love to You

Summary: Leon is forced to attend an event at the white house when the evening suddenly gets more interesting after seeing a familiar face on stage, you.

Pairing: Older! Leon Kennedy x Reader

Warnings: fluff

A/N: I personally pictured Infinite Darkness Leon when I wrote this but it can honestly whichever one you desire. Not proofread but hope you enjoy it nevertheless

Standing with a glass of scotch in his hand, Leon avoids eye contact with everyone around him. If it were up to him, he would be home catching up on all the sleep he missed from not one but two missions back to back. But, being the president’s golden boy, he couldn’t say no. He insisted Leon to at least make an appearance at his formal dinner parties. Leaning against the bar counter by his elbows, he takes in the sight of all the white-clothed tables, each seat surrounding it having a porcelain plate in front of it. A stage sat in front of all these tables, an orchestra playing smooth jazz as many women wearing their most elegant cocktail dresses and expensive jewelry conversed with the many men wearing tailored suits. All holding their heads pridefully knowing they were special, for they were invited by the president of the United States.  

1 hour 

He thought to himself,

Just one more hour and I can go home

Taking another sip, he takes notice of Mr. President gesturing him over to his table and grimaces as he makes his way over to sit next to him. Others surrounding the table, trying to have a word with the President glared at Leon with envy as he sat at the President’s right hand. All looks he was used to and didn’t care for. With his hands intertwined together in his lap, he patiently waited for the food to arrive. That is, until a very familiar voice startled him, 

“Leon! You made it!” Looking up he sees a much older Ashley in a shimmering rustic orange gown, her blond hair a tad longer. Yet, her smile gave away that she didn’t change one bit, to Leon’s relief after all the hell they went through. 

“Ashley” he says nodding his head in greeting a bit awkwardly as she sat next to him, “Good to see you” 

“Your hair is brown” she acknowledges with a giggle, he chuckled quietly as he rested his glass on the table, 

“Thought I needed a bit of a change” he says, a smile resting on his lips. Finally, someone he knew in this stuffy place. Maybe this evening wouldn’t be as painful as he expected,

“Don’t worry, you still look dashing” Ashley reassures with her usual innocent yet beaming smile. He can’t help but chuckle bashfully, not used to being complimented, even if it was just Ashley. He clears his throat to regain his composure, his fingers tapping on his glass, 

“Thanks” 

Thankfully, the lights begin to dim and a man begins welcoming the guests. His attention, however, is on a silhouette he swore looked familiar, standing on the side of the stage, awaiting to be introduced. Leaning his head forward slightly, he squints his eyes in an effort to see who this person is. He didn’t have to wait long to find out because the man said her name and he immediately knew. His eyes widened as he watched the woman approach the standing microphone in an elegant emerald green gown, a glimmering smile complimenting the pearl earrings and necklace under the spotlight. 

He couldn’t believe what he was seeing, was his mind playing tricks on him? Ashley lets out an awe of interest at the sight of her and leans over towards Leon,

“She’s really good, we’ve had her sing a couple of times. Dad likes to call her Canary. She’s an agent too ya know” not taking notice of Leon’s baffled expression, his lips parted slightly in shock, she turns her attention towards the stage as the orchestra begins to swell a musical tune, the woman who once was a distant memory now standing before him with her hands curled around the microphone stand. Her rosy lips opening slightly in anticipation to begin. 

And there it was, the angelic voice that Leon knew all too well,

“Every time we say goodbye… I die a little” her velvety tone followed after her voice rippling angelically with every line had gotten everyone’s attention. Forks dropped to the side of their plates, heads leaning forward in interest, conversations ending abruptly to lend an ear to her performance. 

The memories they made together a year ago flashed through his mind. Their midnight drives to clear their minds after either one of them came shaken from a mission. Their silly arguments on subjects; whether a hot dog was a sandwich or if cereal is considered soup. Their lazy mornings in bed. He remembered the times where they sat at her grand piano and she tried to teach him the basics. He remembered when he made her smile, when she made him laugh harder than he had in a long time. Then he remembered when it all ended, at his fault. And there she stood, beautiful as ever, finally showing the world her talent. Something he often tried talking her into. 

“You have such a beautiful and unique voice, why not show it to the world?” He’d often say to her. And always, she would blush and look away and say something along the lines,

“I’m not that good” or “what if I fail?” 

A smile curled on his lips as he listened to her. Feeling a sense of pride for her as she captured everyone’s attention with her voice and beauty like a siren. He could feel his heart thump against his chest like a drum, ringing in his ears. His eyes took in every crease of her brows, every time she lifted her eyes toward the crowd, every movement her lips made as she projected her voice. 

“What was I thinking?” He whispers to himself without realizing. How could he have let her slip between his fingers? He could have fought for her. He could have done so much more. 

The song ends, a polite smile appears after she sings the very last line once a round of applause and a few whistles mixed in along with it erupts the room. The lights come back on as the orchestra plays a more upbeat song, as she begins to sing another song, 

“I wish you blue birds in the spring….” 

 The audience resumes their meal, some couples moving to the front to dance along to the song as Leon remained there watching her. 

“Amazing isn’t she” the president says watching along with him, 

Feeling his blood rush to his cheeks, he clears his throat once again and distracts himself by cutting his steak, agreeing with the president “Yeah, amazing” 

An hour passes and Leon is yet again, nearest to the bar, he would have left by now but circumstances had changed. Now that she was off the stage, he had to talk to her again. As he scanned the area, he mouthed subtly to himself, practicing what exactly he wanted to say. Which somehow made his nerves even worse. Everything he wanted to say to her sounded so cheesy and screamed “I miss you, please take me back”. 

“Well if it isn’t the Leon Kennedy” a voice greets, the sound of it makes the hair at the back of his neck stand up. Turning to his left, there she stood a bouquet of flowers in her arm, a warm smile that he most definitely did not deserve after how he left things between them. 

“You” is all that’s able to escape, his throat suddenly felt dry. She merely giggles in response and shrugs, 

“Yes, me” she retorts back, “it’s good to see you” she adds more fondly, 

Leaning more against the marble pillar neighboring the bar, he regains his composure and asks almost too casually, “How’ve you been?” 

“I’m good, and you?” 

“Good” with an awkward smile, she nods her head, looking about ready to give up on the conversation. Leon immediately adds to it in hopes to make her stay, “You were great up there” 

With a bashful grin, she tucks some hair behind her ear, “Thanks, it was a bit of a last minute arrangement” 

“Well, you were amazing. I knew you had it in you” 

“Yeah, you did” she agrees shyly, blush appearing on her cheeks as she rests the bouquet on the bar, “I’m surprised you’re here. You’re not one for these type of things, unless that’s changed” 

“No, it hasn’t changed” Leon sheepishly chuckles and watches her take a sip of the drink she ordered, 

“Red wine, as usual” he comments teasingly, “that hasn’t changed either” 

“The fact that it tastes better hasn’t changed either” she retorts back with a smirk, 

“Subjective” he retorts back. The two of them share a laugh, man he missed this. He missed her. 

“Did you come with anyone tonight?” She asks, her eyes glued to her finger tracing the rim of her wine glass, 

“No, I came back from a mission” more like mission(s) but he didn’t want to sound boastful, “did you?” He later asks, the hope of her saying no soaring in his chest, 

“No, I came alone. Last minute arrangement” she murmurs with a shrug, “Leon.. there’s been something I wanted to say—“ 

Her sentence is suddenly interrupted by the sound of their song being played by the orchestra, 

“Let Me Prove My Love to You” she gasps slightly, her eyes darting towards him. The both of them were unable to tear their eyes away from each other. Without thinking, he lends out his hand, 

“Wanna dance?” He asks, holding his breath shortly after for her response. She flashed him that smile that always made his knees a bit wobbly and took his hand. Hooking her arm through his, they walk to the dance floor. With her hand in his, and his other hand on her waist they begin to slow dance to the tune. Looking down at her, he couldn’t help but notice how her eyes sparkled and how at home he felt with her in his grasp. 

“You’re quiet. You’re never this quiet” Leon says in her ear, making her look down and chuckle bashfully, 

“I just can’t believe this is real” she whispers back before leaning forward. Close enough for their lips to be inches apart, Leon noticed. She squints her eyes and tilts her head to the side, “You’re real right? I’m not dreaming?” she asks jokingly 

He lets out a quiet chuckle and shakes his head, “no, no you’re not dreaming. But this all sort of feels like a dream” 

“Doesn’t it?” She agrees, before glancing at the pianist and giving him a knowing look. The pianist simply winked at her back, “it’s my friend over there's doing I bet. He’s got a bad habit of not minding his own business” 

“So he knows about…” Leon trails off and averts his eyes. But she doesn’t, she could see the guilt written all over his face, 

“Yes, he does” she begins to say, “listen, I actually wanted to talk about that…” 

“Me too” 

“Really?” Tinge of hope twinkles in her eyes as they keep swaying, “You first” she insists. Leon shakes his head,

“No, I think it’s only fair that you get to say your piece” he assures, even though the thought of hearing how much he hurt her tore his heart to pieces. He couldn’t take this from her too. 

“Well, I mean, mine is a lot” she giggles nervously but continues nevertheless, “When you ended things. I was really angry with you. Like throwing darts at a picture of you angry. Because things were so good between us. Everything was so easy, and you gave it all up and I didn’t understand why. But now I do” 

“You do?” Leon asks curiously, raising an eyebrow,

“You were afraid. Afraid that something bad was going to happen because of how good it was between us. Right?” Leon squeezes her hand slightly and merely hangs his head in shame, she continues, “Leon, I’m not mad at you anymore, I hope you know that. I know now that it’s okay to be afraid but… I just wish you fought it” her voice for the first time was small, the sound of it alone made his heart feel as if it was being wrung dry, 

“Me too” his immediate agreement makes her eyes widen in shock as she quickly looks up at him, “I regret it” 

“You do?” 

“The biggest regret of my life” the ends of her lips upturned slightly, her heart beating rapidly in her chest as he continues, “You don’t know how many times I’ve almost called you” 

“You don’t know how many times I’ve almost called you” 

“Why didn’t you?” He asks,

“Why didn’t you?” She asks bluntly back, poking his chest. Both of them chuckle before she answers her own question, “I was afraid, is that your reason as well?” 

Leon nods his head, a sheepish grin on his lips, 

“That always gets in the way of us doesn’t it?” She adds in a pleasant tone as if making small talk. 

“Maybe, it’s time it didn’t” Leon’s eyebrows creased and he looked at her solemnly, “what do you think?” He adds shyly, his eyes averting for a second before blinking back at her. That beautiful smile forms on her lips again, her cheeks flushed a light pink,

“I think, that’s a great idea” 

The two of them stare at each other for a moment, their song still concluding in the background. Leaning forward, his eyes trail slowly to her lips, so soft, so inviting. She tilts her head up slightly and the gap between them shrinks smaller and smaller until their lips meet. The contact immediately makes the rest of the world disappear, even more so when they begin to move synchronously. Kissing her felt so familiar, like muscle memory. His grip on her waist tightens as he pulls her closer. Her hand that once was on his shoulder slides to the back of his neck, her nails sinking into the back of his soft brown hair. Pulling away, Leon gets one more look at her, to make sure he isn’t dreaming before placing a kiss on her forehead. Laying her head against just chest, she smiles serenely as the music behind them plays, her thumb caressing the skin of his neck while his spare hand holds her forearm as they keep swaying to the music. God, he missed her. He didn’t know what he did to deserve this second chance but one thing was for certain, it was surely going to be his last.

[hyunnielix]

la lune & le soleil.

Series Masterlist

— felix x reader (f) 

— word count: 2.9k

— genre: non-idol au, strangers to lovers/slow burn with eventual smut (not in this chapter sorry), angst (some?). 

— warning's: Roomate!Hyunjin, Felix is jealous of Hyunjin, crowds in public spaces. food!!! (unedited)

→ playlist on spotify

One of the bakers was perfecting what looked like pistachio croissants, whilst another was boxing multi-coloured macaroons. None of them had looked up at the ruckus. Professionalism at it's finest. The corner of your lip twitched. In the middle of all the chaos, there he stood.

To say you were a little intimidated was a massive understatement. Your gaze followed the seemingly endless line of people. It was halfway down the street. They were buzzing with excitement for the new pastries that had just been announced, chattering away.

Okay, so not the best day to come to the patisserie. But how were you supposed to know any better? You'd made the effort especially to leave early. Dragging Hyune out of his comfortable warm bed on a Sunday morning.

He awkwardly scratched his head before turning to you. "So... what are we doing?"

You were too busy gawking at the simple yet chic designs of the establishment. They had metal frames that hung above the door, one was black; a crescent moon, the other was golden; the sun. You had even recognised the font they used for the name. Castellar.

"Staying?" Hyun leant over, dipping his head down to mumble. "Going?"

There was a slight teasing in his tone that made you huff. He knew how badly you wanted to stay, and it wasn't for the pastries. No matter how good they were. You chewed on your bottom lip.

Suddenly, people were gasping. The chatting continued to get louder. They began to crowd around the window that wrapped around one side of the building. You glanced at Hyunjin before your eyes lit up with excitement. This seemed promising.

You hadn't realised it before, but it was like the bakers were in a glass casing. The window had an open view straight into the kitchen area. That's what had fascinated the customers so much. Watching them work.

You couldn't even begin to imagine having so many people stare at you while working. Yeah, you were a barista of all things, but at least you could hide behind the coffee machine. The baker's couldn't. You sort of felt bad for them.

One of the bakers was perfecting what looked like pistachio croissants, whilst another was boxing multi-coloured macaroons. None of them had looked up at the ruckus. Professionalism at it's finest. The corner of your lip twitched.

In the middle of all the chaos, there he stood.

He balanced a large plate on his palm. You mouth fell open as he began to stack each individual profiterole. He didn't falter once, bringing the plate in front of him to impress the customers. You broke out into a grin. What a show off.

"When you told me he owned a business, I didn't realise you meant fine dining." Hyunjin muttered bashfully. You scrunched you nose, cringing slightly. He was definitely underdressed for the occasion, but you were sure it'd be fine.

Your attention was once again magnetized by Felix's abilities. Watching intently as he finished stacking the caramel sweets one-handedly.

You wondered if you could catch his gaze.

He placed the plate on the white bench. Adding generous, but pretty dollops of what looked to be fresh cream. It was all strategy to him. Present something a little different, a little unique... and it would sell tenfold.

He began the finishing touches. Grabbing the container next to him filled with various kinds of edible petals. This was by far his favourite part. He used a fine dining tool, meticulous in the way he placed the flowers.

You excused yourself, pushing past some of the people to get to the very front. Hyunjin watched from a distance. His arms crossed over his chest. You were determined, he'd give you that.

Felix was still placing petals as you crouched down. Your arms rested on your knees. You tilted your head, a soft smile on your features. His brows furrowed, feeling a different set of eyes on him. He glanced upward. His whole face lit up as he realised it was you.

You waved at him slowly. His expression changed, holding up his finger as if to say one moment please. He hurriedly untied his apron, saying something to one of the bakers that you couldn't quite catch. You weren't the best at lip reading, that was for sure.

You smugly walked back to where Hyunjin was standing. "What was that about?"

"I think he may be coming out."

As if on cue, a burly security guard had exited out the front door. The customers began chattering away once more. You and Hyunjin stepped to the side, away from the crowd.

"Are you sure he won't get swarmed?" Hyunjin asked. You shook your head. He was a baker, not a model. Although he could've probably passed as that as well.

Felix stepped out, running his fingers through his unkempt hair. His baker's hat had completed flattened any volume it'd previously had. If he knew you were coming today he probably would've put more effort in. Not that he didn't take care of his appearance... he had a seven step skin care routine for crying out loud.

His uniform was smart, all white with black detailing. There were five black buttons on each side. You sighed, he even looked good in his work uniform. How unfair.

"You took me up on my offer." His warm voice was smooth like honey, accompanied with his eyes crinkling. You could see his freckles better now, the morning sun highlighted them well.

You stepped forward, acting as if you'd been offended. A stark difference from how you'd been at the shop on Tuesday. You were outside of your comfort zone, sure. But you had more control over the situation and circumstances now. No pressure. No stress. "Of course I did! I didn't realise this place was so high end."

He chuckled lowly. "If you knew what really goes on behind the scenes you wouldn't think as much."

The stress was evident on his face as he glanced back at the shop window. He was always nervous leaving the bakers on their own. He knew they could handle the shop by now. That's not what he was worried about. Managing people on the other hand, that was always the hardest part— and some of them didn't particularly get along.

In one instance, Chaeryeong, an apprentice had thrown batter into one of the senior's faces. The worst part is that it was in front of the customers. He had a headache just thinking of all the legal fees and publicity he had to clean up due to it.

That was one thing that the younger generation didn't quite seem to understand. Seniority was earnt through hard work, dedication and the most important of all; time. You couldn't rush perfection. He knew that after being in this industry for so long.

"I'm sure you do a good job handling it." You said sweetly. "You're just being humble."

The security guard had moved, blocking people who had become interested in meeting the esteemed baker. You were surprised by it. Who would've thought he was this famous? Jisung certainly hadn't mentioned it.

Hyunjin stood awkwardly, squinting slightly at the Baker. Felix hadn't glanced at him once. Interesting. Surely he wasn't that offstandish. Maybe it was the comfortable clothes that'd put him off. Sure, it was nothing designer but they were only visiting a patisserie. Hyunjin didn't usually get dolled up to go out on sunday mornings, it just wasn't his style.

"I'll get you.." Felix trailed off, his eyes landing on the taller man. "Two? seated."

The inclination behind his tone rubbed Hyunjin the wrong way. Oh he didn't like this guy at all. There was something in the way he held himself, almost arrogantly. There was a glint behind Felix's eye that he couldn't quite decipher.

"We're skipping the queue?" Hyunjin asked, pulling you away for a second. He felt the baker's stare burn into his face. "That's a bit unfair isn't it?"

His hand was wrapped around your bicep tightly. He was almost begging you to agree with him. You didn't understand what the issue was. You gazed over your shoulder at Felix before looking back at your roommate.

"Most of these people will be getting takeaway." Felix lopsidedly smiled, explaining how he could fit you both in. He waited patiently.

Hyunjin's nostrils flared as he took one more glance at the esteemed baker. Your pursed your lips, trying not to show how excited you felt. "See? It's fine Jinnie."

Jinnie?

Felix raised his brow, acknowledging the term of endearment. So he had a nickname? He couldn't help but wonder what exactly his relation was to you. Was he a friend? or was it worse.... boyfriend?

Whatever he was, he didn't seem too thrilled to be invited in. Felix politely smiled, ignoring how Jinnie shot daggers with his eyes in his general direction. You dragged Hyunjin by his wrist, standing directly in front of Felix.

"I promise I won't critique your pastries too much," you cheekily stated, "Since you had my muffin."

Your statement made him frown. Suggesting that your baking was inferior to his? It was incomparable. If anything it was more genuine. There was always more love poured into homemade goods, that's why he only made the brownies at home. They weren't for the shop, they certainly weren't to sell. (although, he didn't blame you for that one). They were a product of love, an act of service.

That's why he'd brought them in for his employees. As little thank you treats for working so hard. He'd wrap them up in little baskets, with gift cards attached.

He shook his head bashfully. You really shouldn't put him on a pedestal like that. A soft laugh escaped him. "Your muffin was nice, reminded me of my mother's."

Your expression shifted. That's exactly the kind of reaction you were hoping for. That sense of home, nostalgia and childhood. You fell silent. Hyunjin almost scoffed at your reaction. He'd never seen you so quiet before.

"Orange and Oreo is a pretty unusual combination though." He liked how the flavours had balanced each other out. He always strived to make pastries the same way, not too bitter, not too sweet. Just right. (he had to admit, he was a bit of a sweetooth himself). "How'd you come up with that?"

"It was my mother's recipe." You explained, feeling like a fraud.

"Ahh that explains it—" Felix mumbled. Hyunjin rolled his eyes, walking past the both of you and straight into La Lune. The security guard shot Felix a look. You frowned.

"Sorry about him."

He shrugged, "I guess I'll show you through now." He gestured kindly to the door. You nodded at him before scrambling after Hyunjin.

The inside of the bakery was even more astonishing. Golden decals decorated the walls, with the theme of the night sky. The two concepts of the sun and moon merged in the middle. The deep blue and golden yellow's were almost comforting. Even Hyunjin had stood still to take in the design. It was so pretty. Although, you had expected nothing else from Felix himself.

You recognised the expression on Hyunjin's face. He was enamoured. You couldn't help but smirk.

"Who designed this?" Jinnie mumbled. Felix breezed past the counter, standing next to Hyunjin. He stared directly at the artwork covering the wall.

"I did."

You leant into Felix's shoulder, bumping it slightly. "Maybe you should've been an interior designer in another life."

"Maybe." He pursed his lips at the thought. He didn't necessarily think it was anything special. A barely-there smile graced his features at the realisation that you'd initiated physical contact. He spared a glance at you. There was a soft glow that surrounded your face. He couldn't help but thinking that you looked like an angel.

A dusty pink pastel bow sat high in the back of your hair. It was the first thing he'd noticed when you were outside. He felt sort of prideful. Wondering if you'd dressed that cutely just for him.

Hyunjin hadn't dignified anything with a response. Instead, he'd found one of the booths. He sulked in the corner whilst Felix showed you the variety of pastries they had to offer. He was such a drama queen sometimes. Acting as if you didn't nearly spend every other minute outside of work with him at home.

You loved how minimalistic the display was. The metal product tags at the front of the counter were sharp-looking. The name of the product and price tag following. They were laid in evenly spaced out rows, not a crumb or flake of pastry out of place. It was impressive.

You pointed to one of the desserts. Felix tilted his head. Cherry Clafoutis. His expression softened as he saw the little wrinkle between your eyebrows.

"It's silky, like flan.. it's kind of a mixture between that and cake. The cherry pits give it a faint taste of almond."

You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth. Smiling excitedly. You always loved French style pastries. This was probably the closest thing you were going to get until you visited. "That sounds nice..."

The both of you continued walking down the counter. It wrapped around the establishment, kind of like a sushi train. The design was so unique. "Are you sure you don't have to get back to the kitchen? I feel like I'm wasting your time."

You frowned slightly. A blush dusting your cheeks at your confession. Felix scoffed at your assumption. He shook his head. "Not at all, I'd rather be here than out the back with a million different eyes on me."

Your eyes widened. "You don't like being watched?"

Why had the bakery been designed in such a way then? You thought it was odd. If you had a business you would cater everything to the way you wanted it. Not the other way around.

"It's kind of like exposure therapy." His admittance left you even more stunned. Maybe he was more alike you than he was letting on. You hummed in response, eyes trailing over the sweets once more. That made sense.

"Is that a matcha croissant?"

The tone of your voice raised an octave. You almost threw yourself at the cabinet. The croissant was in the shape of a cube! with matcha decorating the sides like freshly drizzled icing. The outside was beautifully golden brown. That was it. That was the pastry you wanted.

On second thought, your gaze trailed to the macaroon section. It wouldn't hurt to just take a little look. You'd noticed how Felix kept his distance, observing you silently.

"Rhubarb and mint macaroons!" You glanced back at him. Your mouth had fallen open in an exaggerated 'O' shape. "You've got to be kidding me."

His eyes sparkled. An amused expression decorating his features. That's exactly the kind of reaction he wanted. One of excitement. One that could rival giving candy to a baby. The wonder on their face was something so wholesome, so sweet.

Your head was spinning with all the different options. Part of you wanted to ask Hyunjin to make the decision for you. It didn't help that Felix was making you feel a little nervous. Your eyes landed on the strawberry & hazelnut éclair.

"Pick your poision." He murmured softly. His tone was sickeningly sweet, almost mischievous. Your brows furrowed. He was using this as an opportunity to get to know you better. He wanted to know what kind of fruit, sweets and pastries you liked. Just like you'd wanted to know his coffee order.

"You chose probably the most indecisive person to do this to—" You stepped away from the cabinet. "I hope you know that."

"That's what makes it interesting." He teased, leaning down slightly to catch your gaze. The corner of your lip twitched. You weren't able to hide the slight embarrassment you felt over holding such intense eye contact. It was like he wanted to eat you alive.

You jutted your leg out slightly, crossing your arms over your chest. Two could play this game. "Oh yeah? fine. what do you think I'll get?"

"I think you'll end up choosing the rhubarb and mint macaroons." He shrugged nonchalantly. You wanted to wipe the smug smirk off his face. However you weren't sure if you wanted to remove it with your hands, or lips. "Because you feel too guilty about receiving something for free, so you'll choose the product that's the smallest and therefore the cheapest."

Oh you knew what his game was and he wasn't getting away with reading you so well. You weren't that predictable surely. He leant forward once more, "Am I right?"

You tilted your head slightly smiling. He was fishing for your agreeance. Your validation. You squinted slightly. "I think I'll go with the eclair."

You weren't going to give it to him that easily. He chuckled lowly, shaking his head. "As you wish. They'll be brought out to your booth."

You thanked him before returning to the bench. Hyunjin was spread out on the expensive looking leather cushions. You slid beside him, trying to push him over to give you more room. He had his eyes closed, basking in the sliver of sunlight from the window. He grumbled while poking your side.

"I know you're ticklish." Hyunjin warned. He opened one of his eyes slightly as he responded. The corner of his lip upturned. He found the annoyance on your face entertaining.

"You wouldn't dare." You pushed his arm away. "I got us strawberry and hazelnut eclairs by the way." At the mention of food, he wriggled excitedly in his seat. Immediately fixing his posture. You rolled your eyes at his behaviour.

Admittedly, the sweets were better than you expected. The strawberry mouse was light and fluffy, it felt like heaven on your tongue. The chocolate coating wasn't too rich, it balanced out the sweetness nicely. It was definitely a good choice.

What surprised you the most however, was the little napkin tucked under your plate. It was his phone number, accompanied by a little message.

let me know if you'd like to bake together some time, i'd love to share recipes :)

— Felix

[aralezinspace]

Masquerade

Combining two requests, both from Anonymous: Morpheus and s/o doing each other's makeup, Morpheus and reader kissing, reader teases him until he's at their mercy

A/N: The inherent eroticism of a masquerade *chef's kiss* partly inspired by All Yours by @roguelov (I love your writing so much!) Enjoy! Tagging @fangirlmary - If you want to be tagged in any of my writing let me know!

~~Requests are open!~~

“Morpheus?” I called from my bathroom, “Are you almost ready for me?” I knew time passed differently in the Dreaming, I still couldn’t help worrying we were going to be late. The Faerie realm was hosting a huge masquerade ball in honor of Cluracan’s birthday, and as rulers of the Dreaming we had both been invited. I had never been to a faerie masquerade, so I was more than a little nervous- even newly immortal, I was still only human, about to be surrounded by beings with more power in their pinkies than I had in my entire body.

I heard Dream’s footsteps pad from our bedroom into the bathroom before I saw his reflection in the mirror. I applied the last touch to my lipstick before turning to get the full effect, and my heart stopped in my chest.

He was dressed in his usual black, but the material seemed to be deeper, darker, a void where even the brightest of stars diminished. Within that void there swirled sparkling lines of blues, greens, purples, and reds, dotted with large silvery sparkles I’d bet were diamonds sewn into the fabric. The shirt and pants seemed painted onto his form they fit him so well, moving with him, not even creasing when he walked or moved his arms. The shirt’s collar covered his neck, and his hands were wrapped in black silk gloves.

The cloak he wore when being Dream of the Endless, Ruler of the Dreaming and Nightmare Realms was attached to his shoulders with silver brooches, each cradling a sapphire the size of a walnut. A silver chain connected the two pieces, swaying gently when he moved. Flames still flickered at the bottom, but this cloak was made of the same living void as his shirt and pants. His hair was only slightly more tamed than usual, which only added to the affect. Black pointed boots with slight heels and soft soles were on his feet.

I needed to stop gaping, before a dream spider crawled into my mouth.

“Holy shit,” I gasped, taking it all in again and again, the words hardly doing my sentiments any justice. He was ancient and beautiful, distant and awe-inspiring. “You look incredible.” He smiled gently at me, and I could have sworn his chest puffed out just a little bit as he approached me.

“As do you, my star,” he replied in a murmur. His eyes roved up and down my body, taking it all in as one would a piece of art. I could feel the slight tremor in his hand as he brushed a stray piece of hair away from my face. “Although there are no words in any language to do justice to your beauty.”

I felt a blush rise to my cheeks and bashfully glanced at the floor. “Flatterer,” I teased, but did a little twirl anyway before going back to the mirror.

He was right though, I looked just as otherworldly as him in the clothes he fashioned me. If he was attending as a galaxy, then I was the star at the very center. The whole ensemble was silver-blue and shimmering, made of countless layers of a light, floaty material that swirled around me like mist when I moved. The gown had a sweetheart neckline, and sleeves of fine silver mesh covered my arms, making them appear longer and more graceful. Moonstones and diamonds dotted the dress and sleeves, catching the light and reflecting it back. Small diamond earrings went in my ears, and a strand of silver and moonstone was around my neck, with a large opal pendant hanging just below my collarbones.

I had a cape of my own, made of the same shimmering material and dotted with flecks of gold, flowing out behind me from my shoulders. My makeup had the same slight rainbow and silver shimmer, my eyes outlined in pale blue liner. I looked every inch a monarch.

“Just have to do your eyeliner,” I said as I gestured for Morpheus to sit on the stool in front of my vanity. He swept across the bathroom and sat on the stool as if it were a throne while I gathered my liquid and pencil eyeliners, along with a few shades of eyeshadow. “Close your eyes and hold still?”

Morpheus smiled and did as I asked. His lashes were long and dark and utterly gorgeous against his pale cheeks. He was holding still as he could for me, which was the equivalent of a marble statue. Leaning over him, I carefully lined his upper lash lines in black ink before buffing it out with a brush. “Open and look up?”

Tongue between my teeth as I concentrated, I did his lower lash line as well. The black liner made the blue of his eyes even more startling, and I just knew that his eyes would appear even more like bottomless pits if they shifted to their usual black and silver over the course of the night.

“Okay, look ahead?” Rather than look straight ahead, Dream decided to look up at me, stopping the breath in my lungs with his gaze. With slightly clumsy fingers, I put the eyeliner back in my makeup drawer and grabbed the two eye shadows I had picked for him: a slightly sparkling red, and a shimmering silver. Using my fingertip, I gently pressed some of the red into the outer corners of his eyes, and some of the silver into the inner corners.

If I thought he looked incredibly beautiful and powerful before, I was wrong. Just adding the eyeliner and colors around his eyes had made him arrestingly gorgeous, and I couldn’t look away. My eyes widened at the being before me, heat flooding my entire body. That hint of red and silver was the most beautiful mistake I had ever made. It added more than a hint of mischief to the blue of his eyes, gave the power of dreams the attitude of the devil.

Oh, I was going to have a very hard time keeping my hands off him for however long we stayed at this party.

~~

The fae had truly gone all out for Cluracan’s celebration in a dazzling display of magic, wealth, and the otherworldly beauty of nature. The giant ballroom hummed with life, my skin tingled from the strength of the collective vibes. Even as my eyes absorbed the vibrant colors and wondered at them until they burned, I felt distinctly out of place. Just a tiny human at the side of an Endless, almost like a pet. I wanted to shrink into a gilt corner and hope that none of these beings paid me any mind. But, I was a monarch of the Dreaming. If Morpheus couldn’t hide in a corner, neither could I.

I could tell from his slightly tense grip on my hand that he’d rather be anywhere else. Even with our masks covering the top halves of our faces, it was easy to see how much he detested being here. There were too many people, and wearing the face of a monarch for all of them was taxing. I gently rubbed circles into the back of his hand with my thumb as we waited in line to pay our respects to the king and queen, taking in the sights and sounds and smells.

A beautifully haunting waltz came from the musicians on the modest stage at the back of the room. Fae and gods and other creatures of myth mingled and danced, their movements flickering like mirages. A shiver went down my spine.

The fae herald announced us to the waiting monarchs, and Cluracan sitting beside them: “Dream of the Endless and Lady Y/N, monarchs of the Dreaming, rulers of the Nightmare Realms.” I plastered a smile on my face as we approached the thrones. Morpheus gave a slight, respectful bow, and I dipped my knees in a little curtsy.

“Lord Morpheus!” Cluracan yelled with a beaming grin, extending his hand for Dream to shake. “I am so pleased you were able to attend! Both you and your beautiful wife.” Morpheus shook his hand with a strained smile. “Thank you for the invitation, we are honored to be here.”

Cluracan then extended his hand to me. I did what was expected of me, and placed my fingers in his waiting grasp. “Your visage this night is a true blessing,” he murmured against the skin before brushing his lips over my knuckles with a flirtatious smirk. I could feel Morpheus tense beside me.

Dream exchanged the necessary pleasantries with the king and queen, something I was content to let him handle. After the fae monarchs wished us well with the encouragement to enjoy their hospitality for as long as we wished, we were finally free from royal obligations to enjoy the party.

Morpheus was a wallflower at social engagements on the best of days, but I could tell that being in a ballroom surrounded by fae and magical creatures of every kind made him especially uneasy. His hand never left my lower back as we mingled with the other guests, sipping on sweet wine to take the edge off.

After we took our leave of some forest spirits, the orchestra struck up a tune I recognized as old Dreaming folk music. I gave Morpheus’ hand a squeeze and whispered excitedly in his ear, “I’ll bet you anything Cluracan asked them to play this for us. It’d be rude not to dance.” I gave him my best sparkling puppy dog eyes. “Please? May I have this dance?”

Dream sighed, but agreed with a small, loving smile. The image of a perfectly refined and dignified ruler, he led me to the dance floor, holding my one hand aloft while the other rested at my waist. We swept around the dance floor in time with the music, our garments flowing out behind and around us- a supernova and a black hole, swirling around each other in perfect harmony.

“They’re all staring,” I breathed, my eyes darting quickly to the assembled crowd.

“They cannot help but be entranced by you, my darling,” he purred back, “And neither can I.” My eyes flickered up to his, my heart stopping in my chest and lips tugging up into a smirk when I caught the expression on his face. There was no way he hadn’t noticed the hitch in my breath, or the flush in my cheeks, and his tiny smile became unbearably smug. Oh, so that’s how he wanted to entertain himself tonight. Well then, two could play at that game.

“They’re staring at you too, you know,” I breathed against his lips just before he twirled me out and then back in to his waiting arms. “You’re easily the most powerful being here, I bet they’re trying to decide whether they want to be your ally, or stab you in the back. Not that I’d let them.” The hand that was resting on his shoulder slid up, up, so that I was caressing his neck. “And I bet the women are just burning inside, aroused by your demeanor and aggravated their husbands could never hope to measure up.”

It was soft, but I could hear the growl that rumbled low in Dream’s chest. I could feel the way his fingers tensed into the flesh at my waist. His eyes narrowed ever so slightly- he now knew I had caught on to his game, and was not only willing to play, but playing to win.

When the song was over, I pulled away to bow to him, low and slow and graceful with a smile that was anything but submissive. Dream returned the gesture, a perfect gentleman, one who knew exactly what effect he was having on his partner. Rather than take his hand to leave the dance floor, I turned away from him, throwing a flirtatious smirk over my shoulder as I walked towards the buffet. I could feel his eyes burning into my back as he watched, intending to follow, but stopped by a fae lord wishing to speak with him.

I could sense Dream’s growing tension as the night wore on and I refused to stay by his side, rather flitting just out of reach. I made small talk with the other guests, even exchanged a few more words with Cluracan- that really got him going. It was only a matter of time before he came to sweep me away. I intended to beat him to it.

It was hard to evade the stare of an Endless, but I managed well enough. Just enough to catch Dream’s eye before leaving the ballroom and disappearing around a corner into a quieter hall. I could hear his footsteps following me, letting him catch the occasional glimpse of my skirt fluttering around a corner. Almost there…

I turned the next corner and hid in the darkened space between two stone columns encircled with vines. My heart pounded as Dream drew closer. When he was about to pass my hiding place, I reached out and snatched his arm, pulling him into the shadows with me and pressing him against the wall. The air left his lungs on impact in a breathy moan. I stepped in closer, pressing my nose into the hollow just below his ear and taking a deep breath. I was already warm and fuzzy from the wine and fae magic in the air; breathing Morpheus in only made it more so.

With a soft hum, I gently pressed my lips to his, moving them slowly, carefully, testing just how far I could push him. I teasingly ran my tongue over the seam of his sweet lips, and he immediately parted them for me. I flitted in for the slightest taste, the sweetness of the wine still lingering in the corners of his mouth. I pulled away the moment he tried to deepen the kiss, letting him lick beggingly at my closed lips.

One hand cradled his chin while the other slipped under the edge of his mask, mussing his hair slightly as I lifted it over his head and let it fall to the floor. He gasped against my lips and his breath immediately hitched, like he had been caught in the act of showing just how much I was affecting him.

His hands found their way to my hips, fingers digging in to soft fabric as he tugged me closer. My fingers threaded into his silky hair, gently caressing for a few moments before tightening around the strands and giving a gentle yank to expose his neck. Another gasp left him, his eyes fluttering.

I attached my lips to his jawline, kissing and nipping, just hard enough to sting. His fingers bit into my hips, holding me closer. I chuckled low in his ear, more than a little proud of how little it had taken to tease him into a gasping, trembling mess. “I think we’ve stayed long enough,” I cooed, “Unless you’d rather have another dance, or talk with Cluracan some more…”

Dream’s eyes flashed open, no longer ice blue, but deep black, and somehow still burning and sparkling. I had been right before: the eyeliner and colors at the corners of his eyes made me want to sink into those bottomless pits that looked as though they wanted to devour me whole. A breath shuddered out of my lungs and heat flooded my body. Dream smirked, smug and feral.

A hand left my waist to rip off my mask and cast it aside. Dream’s eyes raked over my face, eyes burning with desire. “My little star…” his low growl rumbled through me like thunder. “You are making it incredibly difficult to keep my composure.”

I slowly licked my lips, smooth and sultry. Dream’s eyes tracked every movement of my tongue. I stepped in even closer: “Then let it go.”

When I felt the vortex of sand carry us back to the Dreaming, I knew I had won this round, and also that Dream was more than alright with losing.

[dreamyautumns]

Hi hello hi hi im starved of Azul g/t content,,,so how about a tiny yuu accidentally being shrunk so they go to Azul for help?? I don't have too many ideas, so I don't mind whatever you do lol

I GOT YOU ANON🫡

Also I apologize for how late this is! I’ve been a bit busy as of late😓

Requested by Anon! I’ll be writing about Giant!Azul and Tiny!Reader so here I go!

Octavinelle was quite dark at this hour. The Monstro Lounge was closed, the students were asleep, and the water behind the glass walls splashed gently. You poked your head out from behind a large potted plant and quietly made your way to the VIP office.

Great… good going, Grim. I’m shrunken down to 2 inches, and the only help I can get is from Azul right now!

You sneak over to Azul’s office and look up at the gigantic door. You then see the little crack beneath it and try to squeeze your way through.

Once you pop out on the other side, you look up at the towering furniture before you. Everything was huge; you were like a little insect compared to the rest of the office.

Your train of thought is interrupted when something catches your attention. The tapping of someone’s foot against the ground makes you jump a bit each time their foot hits it. You turn towards the desk near the back and see a very large figure sitting at it.

“Today’s sales were adequate… couldn’t hurt to make a bit more, though…”

Azul, you thought to yourself. He was the only one you could turn to for a fast and easy solution. Shady as his deals were, it was better than being trapped on the floor with all the dust bunnies.

You approach the desk and look up. Azul towers over you like… well, a giant. What other way was there to describe it? You gently tap his shoe to get his attention.

“Azul!!”

Azul freezes, then looks down. His eyes suddenly widen upon seeing your minuscule figure. You bashfully wave up at him.

“Y/N… is that you…?” Azul asks, bewildered. You nod your head.

“I-it is! Sorry if it’s… so awkward.”

Azul pulls out the desk and bends down, extending a gloved hand towards you. He gently pinches you around the waist and lifts you up. You cling to his index finger, fearful that he will drop you. He takes note of this and smirks slightly.

“My, you seem to have gotten yourself into quite the predicament. Might I inquire what happened?”

You shrug awkwardly. “It’s… a long story.”

~

After filling him in, Azul nods thoughtfully and sets you down. He then taps his fingers against the table, each tap sending a little jolt through you.

“You wish for me to help you… perhaps we can make a deal then.”

Here it comes; the deal. You gulped nervously and looked up.

“I’ll make you big again for a very small price to pay. I simply would like to ask-“

“No. Spying,” you clarified. Azul glares at you, and you instantly silence yourself.

“As I was saying before I was so RUDELY interrupted,” he clarifies, “I wished to ask if it was possible for you to spend some time with me soon.”

“Like a date?” you questioned rather bluntly. Azul turns away.

“No! Not a date! You… are very intriguing to me. So I wish to get to know you more. I think it would be fun to spend some time together.”

Spend time with him? Was that it? That was rather easy.

“You SURE there’s nothing else to it?” you ask.

“No… spend time with me tomorrow, and you’ll stay normal sized for good. Deal?”

You look down at the golden contract atop the table. “…deal.”

Azul extends his pinkie, and you shake it gently. You then dip your finger in ink and sign the scroll. The merman takes it in his hand and smiles. “Pleasure doing business with you, Y/N! Though I must say, you’re rather cute all the way down there.”

Azul rubs your head with his finger. You look up at him expectantly.

“When will I return to normal?”

“Tomorrow morning. I promise.”

[screaming--lamb]

He's The Guy You Wanna Do(And You Know It Takes Two)

Part 2 of YGDJLHM

Part 1|2

Ghoap ft Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

Summary: Price joined them the last time, now it's Gaz's turn.

Content warnings: pet play, humiliation, voyeurism/exhibitionism, spitting

Word Count: 2,788

"Were you serious?"

Soap and Ghost were in Ghost's barracks, the Lieutenant sharpening his knives as Soap sits nearby and watches. Soap had been sweet and pliant in the few days that had passed since the events in Ghost's office, which was usual in the aftermath. It's part of why Ghost calls him 'pet', that and his damn puppy eyes. He'd gotten rewarded numerous times, sometimes for menial tasks. Soap had to admit, while bratting was exciting, this was nice too.

"Hmm?"

"When you were talking to Price about," Soap gestures bashfully, "Gaz, and—and Alejandro and Rudy."

Ghost looks up from his knife, an unreadable expression on his face as he practically inspects Soap.

"Gonna have to be more specific, Johnny. We talk about that lot loads." Ghost knew exactly what he was talking about, he just liked torturing Soap. Soap huffs slightly, leaning forward.

"You know."

"Not sure if I do."

"Few days ago...in your office."

The corners of Ghost's lips quirk up slightly in some form of restrained smirk. He flips the knife in his hand a few times before motioning to himself.

"Come here, pet."

Soap shuffles over, moving to stand between Ghost's spread thighs. Ghost places his hands on Johnny's hips, still holding the knife in one.

"You like that idea, puppy?"

Soap nods his head, not looking away from the other man for a second. Ghost's hands tighten their grip on Soap's hips, certainly leaving bruises for later.

"Words."

"Yes," Ghost gives him a pointed look, "Yes sir, I do." Ghost tilts his head in approval.

"Well, if you like it, I'm sure some arrangements can be made."

Soap nods again, "Please, sir."

Ghost hums, pressing his lips to Soap's as he pulls the man down to sit on his lap, already figuring out how to satisfy the man in his hands. He had to talk to Price first.

How the fuck do they always end up back in Ghost's office. The thought flits in and out of Soap's pleasure addled mind. He knew Ghost had talked about arrangements but he never thought it would be so soon—he never though Gaz would be so quick to agree. The three had went back to Ghost's office for late night drinks after a long day, Ghost taking his seat behind his desk and pouring glasses of bourbon for the Sergeants sitting in front of him. A few refills had Soap clinging onto whoever was closest to him, that person being Gaz. Another drink had him crawling into the equally drunk man's lap.

Just like Soap was Ghost's, Gaz was Price's boy. He belonged to the captain, who was very enthusiastic about hearing how this night would end.

For a while, the two forgot about their company. Soap initiating a rough kiss, Gaz returning it with enthusiasm as the two clumsily grind into each other. Soap rocking forward as Gaz greedily bucks up, both desperate for more. When the two stop to breath for air, Gaz catches sight of Ghost, eyes widening as he looks at the man. Ghost had pushed his mask up even more, leaning back in his chair with his glass of bourbon in hand, watching the two. When Soap ducks towards him for another kiss, he turns his head slightly. Quite literally fearing for his life. This makes Soap whine but reroute, aiming for his neck instead.

Gaz whimpers lowly, frantically looking anywhere in the room that isn't either of the other men. When Soap starts mouthing over a particularly sweet spot behind his ear he gasps loudly, slapping his hands onto Soap's thighs and gripping harshly, pulling him closer before letting go again when he sees Ghost smile crookedly out of the corner of his eye, mask pushed up to the bridge of his nose.

"You can touch him. I'm quite enjoying the show."

Gaz turns his head to look fully at Ghost, subsequently giving Soap more room to nip behind his ear. He moans, holding eye contact with Ghost as he slowly drags his hands over Soap's body, gripping his thighs once again and frantically thrusting up. He could feel his orgasm coming quickly and from the nonstop noises coming from Soap he guessed the other man was close too.

"Stop."

Soap stops his movements almost immediately, whimpering pathetically as his orgasm is stolen away from him. The obedience surprises Gaz enough that he stops as well.

"Good, puppy. Gaz," The man in question whines, "I see Price trained you well."

The praise makes him buck up before restraining himself. Soap cries out, throwing his head back at the motion. Gaz pulls him even closer, burying his head in Soap's neck. He noses up and down, pressing chaste kisses to his neck.

Ghost stands up, slowly making his way towards the two. He moves so he's standing pressed against Soap's back before staying completely still. He stays like this for a few seconds before abruptly grabbing Soap's hips, just above Gaz's hands, and forcefully rocking him forward. Soap and Gaz moan in unison, Gaz removing his face from Soap's neck to blink blearily up at Ghost.

Ghost wraps a large hand around the front of Soap's neck, squeezing slightly and pushing a choked out noise from the man. He takes his other hand and grips Gaz's jaw with it, taking his thumb over his mouth, pulling Gaz's bottom lip down before letting it go and brushing the thumb against his cheek instead.

"Have you noticed yet, the way his voice changes as he gets close?" The question is directed at Gaz, "Or the way his breath hitches once he's on the edge?"

Gaz nods, breathing heavily, unsure of whether or not Ghost expects him to speak.

"I asked you a question."

There's his answer.

"I—I did, sir."

Ghost hums, not expecting the Sergeant to pick up on the title so soon.

"I can see why Johnny's so attracted to you."

Gaz sneaks a glance at Soap, finding his doe eyes staring. Not at Ghost, but directed at him. Gaz positively melts under the attention, taking his hands off of Soap's thighs and bringing them up to loosely wrap around Ghost's wrist.

"Please," His breath catches, "Please, sir. Can I move? Wanna make him feel good."

Ghost tilts his chin up, something akin to pride showing on his face.

"You can move, Kyle," He takes the hand wrapped around Soap's throat and moves it to grip his hair tightly, "But you, pet, will stay still. Be good for Kyle, don't disrupt him."

Soap nods as best he can with Ghost's firm grip.

"Yes—yes, sir."

When Ghost lets go of both of them, leaning back on his desk, Gaz begins to move. Starting off slow, he rocks his hips up. Soap desperately grasps at his body, wrapping an arm around his neck and gripping Gaz's shirt with the other hand.

Gaz follows suit, manhandling Soap by his waist and pushing him down as Gaz grinds up faster.

"Pull his hair. And wrap one of those pretty hands around his neck."

Gaz obeys. Tugging roughly on Soap's mohawk as his other hand shoots up to grab softly at his neck, making him cry loudly, squeezing his eyes shut and shoving his head down, pulling against Gaz's grip.

"Open your eyes, pet."

Soap scrunches his face, keeping his eyes closed in pleasure. Ghost is about to say something else, but Gaz makes a split second decision. He yanks Soap's head back, squeezing the sides of his neck harshly to cut off blood flow. He watches as Soap's eyes shoot open to stare at him before they roll back in his head as Soap lets out a guttural moan.

Soap's moans get faster and higher in pitch as Gaz lets go of his neck before squeezing again, repeating the motions as he pulls Soap in for a sloppy kiss. It's more teeth than anything else. Spit drips down both of their chins, making the two even messier and desperate. Abruptly, Soap goes limp in Gaz's hold, his breath hitches as he whimpers and trembles pathetically, breaking the kiss to shove his head into Gaz's chest, ears tinging red with embarrassment. Gaz stops as he realize what happened, whining as he feels Soap soak through his trousers and onto his own.

"I don't believe I told you to stop, Kyle."

"He came, sir." Gaz groans, rocking his hips as he looks at Ghost's now fully uncovered face, unsure when he took the mask off.

"Oh, you know better than that, pup."

"Sorry, sorry s'r, ah—ah didnae mean to." His accent gets thicker as he drops further, slurring every other word.

"It's not me you need to apologize to, puppy."

Soap raises his head, resting his chin on Gaz's chest so he can look up at him.

"'m sorry, Kyle."

"'S okay, Johnny." Gaz pulls him in for yet another kiss, quickly becoming addicted to the feel and taste of the man in his lap.

"Get up, pet."

Soap whines, pressing his lips onto Gaz's even harder.

"Johnny." Ghost's voice is dangerous, a promise of punishment if Soap doesn't get his act together and listen. Soap comes to his senses, sliding off of Gaz's lap. He takes a step towards Ghost before thinking twice, getting onto his hands and knees and crawling towards the man, stopping in front of him with his head hanging down, awaiting instruction. A perfect act of submission.

Ghost pushes off his desk, feeling the two sets of eyes watch him as he walks to the small loveseat against the wall, seemingly unaffected by the events going down despite the obvious bulge in his pants saying otherwise. He sits down, spreading his legs before beckoning Soap over, who trips over himself in his haste. Soap stops at Ghost's side, who runs a hand through his hair, petting Soap as he orders Gaz to do the same.

Gaz doesn't hesitate, quickly sliding down from his chair and deciding to crawl towards Ghost like Soap did. He makes his way across the room, moving to side on Ghost's other side but being stopped by the larger man. Ghost directs Gaz to rest in between his legs, head resting on Ghost's thigh. He knows he's made all the right decisions when he's rewarded with Ghost's other hand moving to card through his hair as well.

"You did well, Kyle. Got Johnny off real nice, didn't you? Did so well, he forgot to ask permission."

While Gaz preens at the words, Soap whines at them, upset at Ghost for passively degrading him when he'd already apologized.

"Hush, puppy. You already got your fill. I think it's time we reward Kyle now."

Soap quiets. Both of the boys at Ghost's feet looking up at him, awaiting his next order.

"Kyle," Gaz perks up, shifting restlessly in anticipation, "Sweet boy, you want to fuck Johnny?"

Soap moans wantonly as Gaz nods eagerly. Moving in an attempt to get at Soap, desperate to do something, anything, to the other man. But he's blocked by Ghost.

"Settle down. Forgetting yourself already, Kyle? That's okay. You've been so good otherwise, I won't punish you."

"Please." Gaz drags the word out, tacking 'Sir' on the end as an afterthought.

"Eager little thing. You'll please Johnny, won't you? You have once, I know you can do it again. Go ahead."

And with that, Ghost pulls away, leaving Gaz to his own devices. Gaz drags Soap over to him so they're both seated in front of Ghost before tearing Soap's shirt off, pants and underwear following.

Gaz curses as Soap's dick springs out, already fully hard again. He leans down, swallowing Soap halfway. Gaz's hands move to Soap's waist, holding him down as his hands fly to Gaz's hair. He slowly bobs his head, taking more of Soap into his mouth with every movement until eventually he's buried at the hilt.

He stays in place long enough for Soap to start whining and grappling wherever he can reach. Finally, he moves. Slow at first, teasing Soap with sloth like movements. Pulling all the way off when he moves up, licking and kissing along the side of his cock.

He takes Soap in his mouth again, speeding up his pace as he listens to Soap moan endlessly above him.

"Swallow around him. He particularly enjoys that." Ghost's voice interrupts Soap's.

Gaz obeys, relishing in the way Soap's cries get louder and Ghost makes a pleased sound. He continues a few minutes more before pulling off and undressing himself, tossing his clothes to the side and flipping Soap over on his hands and knees. He curses, turning to look at Ghost with wide questioning eyes. The larger man smiles in amusement, rummaging in his breast pocket and pulling out travel sized bottle of lube. He hands it to Gaz who thanks him quickly. Opening the bottle, he squirts some of his fingers, coating them generously and pressing one gently into his hole. Mesmerized by the way Soap arches his back, shoving himself backwards and greedily taking Gaz's finger, Gaz almost misses Ghost speaking to him.

"You ought to start carrying that around. Once Johnny gets a taste of you, he'll be begging for you anywhere."

Gaz slips a second finger in, watching Soap whine and squirm as he pumps his fingers steadily. Soon enough he adds a third, quickly finding Soap's prostate if the way he practically squeals is anything to go by. Gaz scissors his fingers a few more times before pulling them out and picking the bottle of lube back up, he coats his cock and pours some on Soap's hole, not wanting him to be in pain no matter how much Gaz stretched him.

Lining himself up, Gaz pushes the head in, gently thrusting little by little. He bottoms out the same time as Ghost's zipper slides open, looking over to watch him pull his cock out.

"Bloody hell." Gaz grips Soap's waist, leaning forward to rest his forehead on Soap's back. After a minute of resting there, attempting to get used to the tight heat wrapped around him, he finally moves. Gently at first, slow enough that he's sure he's not hurting Soap. But it's not enough. Soap reaches a hand back, blinding gripping Gaz's hip.

"Please," He whispers the same word over and over, "Faster, please."

"What did I say?" Ghost's voice is stern and although it's not directed at him, Gaz shivers at the sound of it, at the implications nestled in the tone. How the man can sound so unaffected while jerking himself off, Gaz will never know. "Quiet, pet. You don't control anything here. This is Kyle's reward."

Soap murmurs a quick 'yes sir' and Gaz takes the hand resting on his hip and entwines his fingers with Soap's. Soap's grip is tight, overwhelmed with the sensation of being fucked, prostate being hit on every thrust. It's different. Where Ghost and Price are both rough and domineering, Gaz is softer, gentle and as eager to obey as Soap is.

"Stroke his pretty dick for me, Kyle."

Gaz reaches around Soap, grabbing his erection, relishing in the way Soap clenches around his cock. Soap mewls, trying his best to stay still as Gaz jerks him off quickly. Gaz's thrusts get faster as he gets closer to the edge, desperately chasing his own orgasm while trying to give Soap his as well.

Soap cums first, Gaz's hand being painted white. He goes limp in Gaz's arms, moaning breathlessly as Gaz finally cums inside him, cock pulsing deliciously. The two rest on each other, barely moving as Ghost moves from where he was sitting to stand next to both of them, still pumping his own dick furiously. He groans, hips stuttering as he cums into Gaz's open mouth.

Instead of swallowing, Gaz closes his mouth and tips his head down before capturing Soap's lips in an open mouthed kiss. Ghost moans above them and Gaz can feel the cum dripping from his mouth to Soap's, causing them to become even messier than they previously were. He ruts his hips slightly, still seated inside of Soap who breaks the kiss with a gasp, pitching forward against Ghost's leg.

Gaz is more sensitive than before, it doesn't take long before he's cumming inside of Soap again, the other man sobbing from over stimulation. It makes him feel guilty yet prideful at the same time. He takes a moment to catch his breath before speaking up.

"Do I have t' make an appointment t' do th's again, or?"

Soap chuckles as Ghost barks out a sharp laugh, ruffling both their hair.

"Come on, I'll get you two cleaned up."

[ghosttotheparty]

love me softly p15

part 14

Eddie forgot to get his cigarettes on Friday. It doesn’t occur to him until he’s driving to school on Monday.

He almost laughs when he realises he hasn’t craved them all weekend.

Gareth is running late, so Eddie just heads up the second floor of the main building, his backpack hanging off one shoulder, his hands in his pockets.

When he pushes open the bathroom door, he stops short, his eyes meeting Steve’s, then Tommy’s, then Steve’s. Steve’s cheeks flush red, and his eyes widen.

“I’m just…” Eddie gestures aimlessly. “Cigarettes.”

He passes Steve silently, going into a stall and shifting the loose tile to get the crumpled carton from behind it.

Tommy and Steve are both quiet, looking at each other like they’re trying to communicate telepathically, and Eddie squeezes the carton of cigarettes in his hand, hesitating next to Steve.

“Should I just…”

He pauses, fidgeting with the box before he starts to step toward the door, but Steve reaches out and grabs at his jacket with a sharp, “No—”

Eddie freezes, looking at him, wide-eyed. Steve exhales, gripping his jacket and looking at Tommy, like he’s begging him for something. Tommy blinks, looking at Steve’s hand on Eddie’s jacket.

“Were you…” he hesitates. “Were you with him?”

Eddie’s eyes widen and he immediately steels his expression, looking at Steve.

“I…” Steve looks at Eddie desperately, but Eddie doesn’t know what to do. He wants to lace their fingers, to hold him, or something, but he doesn’t.

“Steve,” Tommy says adamantly. “It’s cool if you were, just… tell me next time you need to say you’re at my place so I cover for you, man.”

Steve looks back at him, his lip quivering like he’s trying to speak, and he takes a sharp breath.

“Okay,” he says after a moment, squaring his shoulders. Eddie’s stomach twists. “I didn’t tell you, because I—“ He cuts off with another breath.

“Steve,” Eddie says softly. Steve looks at him, his eyes shining earnestly, and he nods slightly, his hand tightening on Eddie’s jacket.

Eddie looks at Tommy, adrenaline coursing through his veins like he’s preparing for a fight.

“We’re together,” Steve says says in a rush, tugging at Eddie’s jacket, looking at Tommy. “Eddie’s my boyfriend. We’re— We’re in love.”

Tommy stares at Steve, then at Eddie, then back at Steve. Eddie’s hands curl into fists.

“And I’m— I’m telling you,” Steve says, breathing hard, panicking, “because you’re my best friend, and— and I want you to know.” Eddie shifts, turning toward Steve. “And I’m trusting you with it, because if this gets out, our lives are done,” Steve says desperately. “And if my parents find out—”

“I’m not gonna tell anyone, Steve,” Tommy says firmly. “Don’t… Don’t worry about it.”

Steve takes a gasping breath, and Eddie sets his hand over his, holding his wrist gently as Tommy steps closer.

“‘S cool,” he says awkwardly. “…Eddie’s cool.”

Eddie snorts, looking at Tommy as Steve laughs weakly.

Tommy shrugs, half-smiling.

“It’s fine, Steve,” Tommy says softly. He steps closer, and gently wraps his arms around Steve, who releases Eddie’s jacket to hug him back. Steve hides his face in Tommy’s neck, and Tommy runs his hands over his back comfortingly, catching Eddie’s eye as Eddie leans against the wall, watching.

Eddie bites his lip, taking a deep breath as he shoves his hands into his pockets.

“When did you guys get together?” Tommy asks when he and Steve pull away.

“Few weeks ago,” Steve says, wiping his face as he steps away.

“How’d it happen?” Tommy asks, grinning.

Steve looks at Eddie bashfully, stepping close and leaning against him.

“Steve was braver than I’ve ever been in my life,” Eddie says, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. Tommy leans against the opposite wall, smiling softly. “Leaned right over and kissed me,” he says softly, looking at Steve.

Steve looks back at him for a moment, the corner of his mouth quirking into a little smile before he hides his face in Eddie’s shoulder.

Tommy smiles, watching Steve hide and meeting Eddie’s eyes. Eddie’s cheeks flush and he glances down at Steve.

“This makes sense,” Tommy says lightly. Eddie looks back at him. “I mean— It doesn’t make any sense at all? But it makes sense.”

Steve snorts and moves his face out of Eddie’s shoulder.

“You’re a damn poet, Tommy.”

“Fuck you, Steve.”

Eddie snickers, pushing his fingers into Steve’s hair.

Tommy leaves when the bell rings, shooting Eddie a knowing look when he pulls at Steve’s shirt to keep him behind.

“Give us a minute.”

“Uh-huh.”

Steve turns back to face Eddie when the door shuts behind Tommy, already smiling when Eddie pulls him into a hug.

“What happened?” Eddie asks softly, pressing a kiss to his temple.

“My dad ran into Tommy’s dad at the grocery store.”

“Oh, shit,” Eddie says, pulling back to look at him. “And?”

Steve shrugs lightly.

“Mr Hagen spent the weekend away because he and Mrs Hagen are separated,” Steve says, smiling when Eddie winces exaggeratedly. “So he wouldn’t have known if I’d spent the night, but he asked Tommy about it this morning, so Tommy had to make some shit up.”

“Tommy wasn’t mad, was he?”

“Mm-mm.” Steve shakes his head. “He was just curious about where I actually was. If I was okay after everything on Friday.”

Eddie pauses, smiling softly.

“He’s a good friend,” he says quietly. Steve nods.

They gaze at each other for a moment before Steve looks away, down at Eddie’s hand that’s holding the carton of cigarettes. He lets go of Eddie, reaching down to take it, and Eddie watches as Steve pulls the carton away from his hand, opening it and pulling a cigarette out before he reaches up to stick it between Eddie’s lips.

Eddie smiles lazily around the cigarette as Steve hands the carton back and pulls at the lapel of Eddie’s jacket, reaching into the inside pocket to find his lighter. Eddie’s smile grows, and he slides his hands over Steve’s waist.

Steve bites his lip as he lights the cigarette carefully, the flame lighting up in his eyes.

Eddie puffs the cigarette, watching Steve grin and slide the lighter back into the pocket. Steve lets him take another drag of the cigarette before he reaches up and takes it, letting Eddie exhale as he takes a short drag. Eddie snickers quietly when Steve gives a soft cough.

Steve gives the cigarette back, and Eddie puts on a show, letting his eyes flutter shut as he takes a deep breath, inhaling until his lungs are full, lifts his chin to gesture for Steve to take the cigarette again, and then he tips his head back, blowing the smoke at the ceiling as Steve traces a light line down his throat.

Steve giggles as Eddie finishes exhaling.

“What’s funny?” Eddie asks softly, looking back at him, and Steve just pauses, suppressing his smile, and he tilts his head, swaying.

“…Smokin’ in the boys’ room…”

Eddie barks out a laugh, tugging him into a kiss.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Steve presses a kiss to his lips and then sticks the cigarette back into his mouth.

“I’m gonna be late,” he says softly. “I’ll see you later.”

“Love you, sweetheart.”

Steve hums and kisses his cheek before he leaves, sending him a look over his shoulder. When the door shuts behind him, Eddie sighs heavily and leans against the wall, rubbing his warm cheek and grinning at the floor.

Tommy catches Steve and Eddie looking at each other in the cafeteria during lunch, and he just rolls his eyes fondly.

Eddie finds a drawing in his locker at the end of the day before he heads to Hellfire, a pencil drawing on a sheet of printer paper of eyes that he recognises as his own, dark and shining. Next to the eyes, Eddie reads in Steve’s swirly handwriting, now I’m a prisoner of your eyes or whatever.

Eddie takes a moment to calm down, his head in his locker, before he heads to the drama room.

part 16

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tagging: @infinitetrashbag @thehumblefigtree @booksandsience @goodolefashionedloverboi <3 comment to be tagged in part 16