#drawing V takes me back to before when i would post like once a week haha

[owliellder]

The Finer Details

Post DI! Leon Kennedy x Painter fem! Reader

MDNI 18+

(Session 1, Session 2, Session 3, Session 4, Session 5, The Reveal)

Description: Leon realizes that retirement is in his best interest now that he's getting older. All of his accomplishments as an agent mean he's truly earned a painting to commemorate..

Warnings: Not Proofread, Age gap! (reader is anywhere between mid-late 20's and Leon is 40), Porn w/ Plot, Use of she/her pronouns, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Alcoholism, mentions of trauma/PTSD/depression, P in V smut (wrap it NEOW), Leon cries during sex 💔

Tags: Older Leon Kennedy, Younger afab!Reader, Leon is SAD but he is your muse, Crying, mentions of Leon masturbating, starts off with Dom! Leon and Sub! Reader, falls into switch territory because that man needs some serious TLC, Praise kink, Hickeys, Handjob, Nipple play, Oral sex (m! and f! receiving), and a heavy dose of Aftercare

Author Note: I'm actually thinking I might be doing one chapter every other night, but I would also like to draw on my comically large art tablet at some point this week, so I might skip a day or two.

Cross posted onto AO3

Session 2: Color Matching

You partially regret just agreeing to "tomorrow", seeing as this man decided that he wanted to show up at 4am.

It was the original time set for yesterday's session, and you guess he felt bad for being late, but god damn he texted you an hour earlier telling you he'd be there by 4am. Dragging yourself out of the comfort of your bed was difficult, but in the end it was worth it to draw such a stunner.

You had to get there before Leon did, so there you were; half awake, dressed in a pair of fuzzy pants and a loose t-shirt, and a small cup of tea in your right hand while the other fumbled with the keys to your little work room.

That was the greatest part about your job as a professional painter. You didn't have a dress code.

Though most days you did try to look your best, some days it was just easier to be comfortable. Besides, it's not like tons of people come and see you everyday, it was usually just one person at a time.

It was 3:47am by the time you'd gotten to your workspace and settled, sitting on one of the many floor pillows in the living area you put together away from the actual painting setup. The tea was warm, it was keeping you sleepy, but you couldn't stop taking small sips. It was in your hands, there wasn't much you could do to stop yourself.

You told Leon to just come on in when he arrived, not wanting to walk all the way back down just to lead him back up. The stiffness from sleep was still in parts of your body, so you knew it would be difficult to get up, even when he did finally stride through that door. He dressed nicely today, just what you needed him to do.

Wanting to relish in the dim yet warm lighting of your various lamps for as long as possible, you beckoned the man to come over and sit with you, which confused him slightly. He thought you would be ready to get started once he showed up, but he wasn't one to argue so early in the morning. Instead, he shrugged and slowly sauntered over to you, taking a seat on a floor pillow across from yours.

"Good morning." Leon grumbled quietly, his voice barely hiding the fact that he wasn't quite awake either. That rumble in his chest made your stomach flutter. "Good morning to you, too." You responded, closing your eyes for a moment to take another sip of your tea.

"When uh-" He cleared his throat, putting a fist up to his mouth as he did so. "When are we gonna get started?"

You furrowed your eyebrows, moving the cup away from your lips to stare at him. "I wasn't expecting to be up so early, so just give me a few more minutes to wake up and then we can turn my main lights on."

Leon sucked on his teeth as he thought, turning his head to look over out one of the windows as he rested his wrists on his knees. "Oh, yeah, sorry. Just wanted to make up for being late yesterday."

You laughed softly before letting out a quiet sigh, setting your tea down on the low coffee table sitting behind you.

"Don't worry about it, but also don't make me get up so early again, old man." You attempted to joke, immediately noticing the wince on his face at the nickname. To divert, you stood up and stretched, patting his shoulder as you walked by him. "Alright, let me pull my stuff out and then we can get started."

Leon followed you with his head, taking a few seconds before standing up himself, pressing his hands onto his knees to help get up from the floor pillow.

"I'm just going to be color matching your tones today. I won't do all of it since obviously lighting changes throughout the day, buuuut..." You trailed off, beginning to rummage through a drawer in one of your desks before pulling out handfuls of paint tubes. "I just need to pull out the basic colors I'll be using."

It was still pretty dim in the room which caused you to have to squint to see the names of the colors on the tubes. Leon found that partially amusing, his chuckle causing you to glare playfully over at him. "Something funny?"

"As funny as it is to watch you go cross-eyed looking at those," he smiled, gesturing with his thumb to the light switches near the door. "I feel like it'd be easier to just turn the lights on."

"My retinas will be fried if those get turned on-" You were cut off by your own shout when Leon took the liberty of turning the lights on himself, laughing as you quickly moved to cover your eyes.

He only had to squint for a second before his eyes adjusted. You, however, were not expecting the sudden change, so you got an eyeful of bright white light. Complete and utter agony that lasted for a full five seconds.

By the time you moved your hands away from your eyes, they were watering and you had to squint for awhile longer. "Give me a warning next time you decide you want to try and murder me like that." You said, wiping away the few stray tears you'd produced from the light sensitivity. "You might live in the light, but I don't!"

The man shook his head and crossed his arms, smile still plastered to his face as he slowly made his way over to the chair in front of your easel. "That's payback for calling me an old man."

You twisted your head around to the chair so you could give him an indignant look, catching a glance as he was putting his hands up in defense with a small "what?" before you turned to look down at the tubes of paint sitting next to your hands on top of the desk.

"Nothing, just wasn't expecting to work with a toddler, that's all.." You mumbled, smile creeping onto your face as you heard him click his tongue from behind you. "I was an old man not five minutes ago and now I'm a toddler?" Leon asked, voice peaking dramatically.

"Yes, you have quite the range, Mr. Kennedy." You began sifting through the various paints you'd pulled out, humming softly as you contemplated what route you wanted to take with them. Stick to primaries? Add secondaries? Should I just use every color I need? Hmmm..

Leon watched as you stared at the paint tubes you'd picked up, tilting his head to the side slightly to try and get a better look. He snapped his head back upright when you started to speak again. "I'm trying to decide whether or not to use a lot of different colors, or just stick to a minimum.."

It was almost as if you knew what he was wondering. "Uhh... what's the difference...?" The man questioned, raising an eyebrow as you turned around, seemingly having made your decision already.

"Using just the main 6 colors-" You turned around and were faced with his very confused stare, causing you to explain a little better. "The main colors you see in a rainbow."

He breathed out a quiet "ahh" at that. Okay, good. He knows his basics. Cute...

"I can mix just red, blue, and yellow at varying degrees to get any color I need. Adding green, purple, and orange will help even more." You pursed your lips, lightly tossing the paint tubes in your hands before setting them down away from the other tubes. "I need white also. Damn.."

"What's wrong with white?" Leon asked, leaning forward a bit to watch you dig in the drawer for a tube of white oil paint.

"Nothin'. Just forgot, is all. Trying to keep this as authentic as possible..." You mumble, quickly closing the drawer with a slam after pulling out the paint you were looking for.

Silently nodding his head in acknowledgment, Leon turned his focus to his surroundings again, admiring your choice in decor once more. He bought a nice decorative pillow for his couch yesterday after being here the first time.

You grabbed a few strips of thick white paper, running your thumb along its textured surface before setting them down. You told him to stay where he was as you set up a small art palette, little dollops of the paints sitting neatly in the circular grooves.

"I'm gonna make color swatches of your skin for myself." You spoke up as you suddenly turned and walked towards him, holding the palette in your left hand while holding the strips of paper and a small yet flat paintbrush in the right. "Also, I'll need to get a picture of you in the position you want, but I'll do that after all of-" you waved everything you're currently holding in a small circle. "-this."

Leon simply responded with an "oh, okay", his knee beginning to bounce as you quickly began to mix little bits of your paint together to get a simple pale skin tone down before you even attempted to match his.

As you worked, you were starting to grow nervous with the silence, and clearly the man in front of you was as well, given he had started to sweat slightly on his forehead. He wasn't nearly as conversational as the last two agents you painted.

"So.. you've earned yourself a portrait..." You smiled slightly, holding up the strip of paper you'd brushed your mixed paint on to see what colors to mix in next. "What'd you do to earn one?"

Leon hummed. It was hard to think about every mission he's gone on, all the horrors he bore witness to, the people he saved, the people he couldn't save, how it all started, and now the fact that he's done-

"Hey, woah, I'm sorry." The sound of your voice drew him away from his thoughts. "I didn't know that would be a.. sore subject for you." He blinked at you a few times, furrowing his eyebrows soon after. "What?"

You pulled the strip of paper away from his face, pulling your lips tight with a shrug of your shoulders at his response. "You suddenly looked mad. Like... really really mad. I thought you were gonna snap at me or-"

"No. It's just bittersweet, is all." Leon cut you off, waving his hand dismissively at you before nodding once down to the paint palette in your hand. "You can keep going."

You stayed frozen in your crouched position for a few seconds longer before continuing to swatch your paint. You kept silent, not wanting to seem like you were antagonizing him.

"I used to be just a cop." The man suddenly said, causing you to look up from where you were mixing your paints together. "Only for a single day, but I was a cop. Simple as can be."

You nodded, beckoning him to continue with a small smile, which he did. "I'm sure you've heard about some of that already though, since you worked with Claire not too long ago."

His comment caused you to let out a small "ohh" in sudden recognition, nodding your head again. "Yeah, that's right! She mentioned you on that, okay.."

Leon continued to talk about all of his missions vaguely, still having to keep confidentiality in mind. You let him drone on, having gotten his skin tone matched in a few different areas now. You stopped to scribble on the papers with the paint swatches, making sure to label where each tone came from on his face and hands.

You took note of how he circled back to his single day as a cop and to certain missions. His mention of saving the president's daughter had you immediately smiling. That was a straight ticket to earning his own portrait in that hall of the White House, he could've done just that his entire life and he still would've been seeing you at some point.

You focused on mixing your paint for a little while before noticing he had grown quiet, looking up to see him staring out the window, a faint orange glow from the sun rising highlighting his features. And his tears.

Growing concerned once again, you set down the paintbrush on the palette so you could place a gentle hand on his shoulder. It seemed he didn't notice that, too lost in his head to notice anything at this point.

"Hey..." You asked with a soft voice, your eyebrows furrowing with worry. "We don't have to talk about it anymore, you know..."

Finally, Leon looked back at you, eyes widening once he realized how watery his eyes were. He turned his head away so you didn't watch him wipe the tears that had fallen down his cheeks and use his sleeve to dry his eyes. It wasn't like him to be so easily bothered by this stuff.

"I just need one more color swatch and then you can go, okay? We can save the photo for another day." You gave the man a weak smile, one he didn't reciprocate. You understood.

He looked like he wanted to say something, but you filled in for him. "Seriously, it's no trouble at all. If you need more time then you need more time." Standing up from your crouched position, you left your half-finished color match swatch with the finished ones before walking over to set everything down on the desk.

You didn't want to crowd the poor man. That was probably the last thing he needed. Despite having only painted for a select few, you've learned to just step away from these retired agents when things would go awry. It was akin to a war veteran suffering from PTSD; they did almost have the same experiences as far as you could tell.

"I'm sorry."

Leon finally managed to say to you, his hands anxiously rubbing up and down on the tops of his thighs. Must be a nervous tick.

You angled yourself so you could see him while your body still faced the desk, smiling at him while your hands worked to neatly stack the strips of paper before clipping them together with a paper clip.

"There's absolutely no reason for you to apologize." You kept your smile as you responded to Leon, looking back down at your hands to make sure everything was put together properly. "You forget I strictly work with agents like yourself. From all the vague tellings, I know that the job is tough on you guys; body and mind."

It was weird having someone outside of the agency talk to him about this kind of stuff. It was weird for him to be bringing it up in the first place. Or, at least he felt like it was.

"Still, I should know better than to do that." Leon sighed, rubbing his hand along the side of his face before stroking his chin, scratching at the stubble growing.

"Know better than to do what? Let yourself process everything you've been through?" You spoke in almost a whisper. If your tone was any louder, you fear you'd come off as accusatory.

"I get it. Really, I do." Leon groaned quietly at your words, causing you to click your tongue. You grabbed your swivel chair and scooted it over so you could sit in front of him, and when you did, you brought your legs up to sit criss-cross just like yesterday, only there wasn't a table separating the two of you. You looked solemn. He didn't like where this was going.

"The whole point of painting you a portrait is to honor you and your work as an agent, but it's not just about getting yourself painted." You leaned forward in your chair, elbows resting on your knees, all the while keeping your voice hushed and gentle. "Seeing the portrait once it's finished is going to be an incredibly emotional ordeal. It's a reminder that this is truly the end of an era for you, Mr. Kennedy..."

Your words were really starting to strike a chord for Leon. He hadn't given it much thought. He didn't want to give it any thought at all. All he thought was "I'm just going to get myself a nice fancy portrait and be done with it". He didn't even consider what the portrait of him would actually symbolize.

"Oh." Was all Leon could muster, letting his gaze fall into his lap where his hands now sat clasped together. If it weren't for the comfortable environment you had set up here, he probably would've bolted ages ago.

You let him think everything over for awhile, wanting to give him all the time in the world. Clearly he needed something, but he wasn't allowing himself any sort of leeway.

It took some courage building internally, but you decided to stand up, taking the one step closer to him before placing your hand on his shoulder once more. You squeezed it a bit, bringing his attention back to you as he lifted his head up.

You attempted to smile at him, moving your hand off his shoulder so you could hold your arms out slightly. This man needed a hug and you were more than willing to offer the leeway he wasn't granting himself.

Leon stood up rather quickly which surprised you, and startled you just a bit, before feeling his large arms tightly wrap around you. It was a little awkward since he had to bend a bit to hug you properly, but it worked out in his favor, and yours too, since he got a better opportunity to bury his face into the crook of your neck.

He sighed happily when he felt your arms slowly wrap around his chest, doing your best to squeeze him for that extra bit of comfort, even rubbing up and down on his back. It had been so long since he had a real hug. It felt good.

You let him hug you for as long as he needed, which was longer than expected, but definitely not unwelcome by any means. Though, his warm breath against your neck and the smell of his cologne was causing you to blush. That's really the last thing you needed him to see after being so vulnerable and open with you.

You felt him start to pull his head away, prompting you to pat his back gently as an end to the hug. Despite the fact that it was faint, it was clear to you that he was blushing when you were finally able to look up at him.

You wanted to remain calm for Leon, letting out your nervousness through a quiet cough. "I know we've only met up twice, but if you ever need a change in scenery, just know that my workspace here is always open to you. I'm always open to you, okay?"

Your words were making him feel weird. Something he hasn't felt in a long time was creeping up his chest. Your smell lingering on his coat wasn't helping, either.

"Yeah-.. yeah, okay." Leon huffed through his nose, reaching up to scratch at the stubble underneath his jawline as he averted his gaze to the floor.

The sun was fully up now, so you walked over to where the light switches were next to the door, flipping them off. All your other ambient lights could be turned off later. For now, you needed to focus on the man still standing in front of that maroon chair.

"You can stay if you feel you need to, but I just want you to relax." You said, looking over at him as you heard his footsteps slowly walk past you to the living space.

"I'll head out." Leon bent over and grabbed his motorcycle helmet from where he'd set it down on the rug near the floor pillows. He placed his on his head as he walked over to where you stood next to the door, not really wanting anyone to look at his tear-stricken and red face any longer.

Once he finished fiddling with his helmet, you reached out and took his hand in both of yours, patting the top of it softly. "Text me when you're ready to come back over."

You couldn't see Leon's face anymore since he'd put the visor down, but you could definitely see him nod his head. He opened the door and let himself out, touching the side of the doorframe as he rounded the sharp corner and walked down the stairs.

After closing the door behind him, you started walking around your workspace to turn off all the lamps and other ambient lighting, pausing to listen to the sound of his motorcycle start up and drive off.

[halfrican-heat]

Upstanding Gentleman (Ony)

Onyankopon was raised in a strict Ghanian household. He was pretty strait-laced...until he met you, of course. Still, Ony has many tricks up his sleeve that never fail to surprise you.

A/N: Yes, I'm high. Hello. So, this is the second Ony post I've had lingering in the back of my mind. It's in head cannon format but I think this could be something. Enjoy!

Warning(s): Explicit Sexual Content; Depictions of smoking marijuana; Penetrative Sex (p in v), Oral Sex (M receiving), Sex in childhood home, Black reader in mind, N-Word used; AAVE/Dialogue with Dialect

Pairing: Sober!Onyankopon x Stoner!Reader

Inspired by: Lauryn Hill and my bf :)

Sober!Ony was raised by a single mother who kept him in line. No drugs, no alcohol and he definitely had a curfew.

Straight A student and graduated the top of his class in high school

Spent majority of his childhood playing video games and taking apart old computers his mother would bring home from her teaching job.

Played basketball and practiced frequently with his friends

Loved taking photos and drawing

Only smoked weed once when he was seventeen and felt guilty about it for a week before he told his mom. (She smacked his head but wasn't that mad)

Never had a thing for drinking. His mom let him have some wine during his graduation dinner. His uncle, later that evening, gave him some liquor. Ony wasn't a fan.

Sober!Ony who went to college in a different state-- hours away from his mother.

He chose to go to a school pretty far away from home to study photography. He loved his mom but he felt like he needed a firm separation from his home life and college life.

That's where he met you. This sweet little thing from a town he had never heard of. So cute...

...and yet you smelled like trouble. Ony's suspicions were confirmed when you offered him a blunt in your car one night. Y'all had been talking for a minute at that point but you never gave off stoner vibes.

Ony declined but didn't mind hanging out as long as you rolled the windows down.

Turns out, you were a huge stoner. Bongs, smoking pieces, a stash larger than some of the ones he had seen back home. You weren't a plug, not really, you just really loved weed. You were super smart, too. Ony had known people like you from back home-- motivated stoners who smoked frequently but it didn't impede them getting shit done. You were like that and Ony really liked that about you.

Ony wasn't sure how to proceed at first but...one thing was sure: You had a hold on Onyankopon that he just couldn't deny.

Sober!Ony who, four years into your relationship, isn't super sober anymore.

"Mama, let me get one of them fruity drinks out the fridge." "They got alcohol in 'em Ony," You call from the kitchen. "I ain't ask you all that. They taste alright-- I feel like a classy nigga drinking them." "Okay, Classy Nigga," You say, bringing him one. "Mister Classy Nigga to you," He says, with a wide grin. "Pinkies out, baby."

Sober!Ony who branched out after meeting you but didn't partake as frequently as you did.

"Let me get a hit, baby." "Nigga, you don't smoke!" Ony kisses his teeth, side-eyeing you. "Then do that shit where you kiss me and blow the smoke in my mouth." You laugh loudly, throwing your head back at his nerve. "Okay, baby," You say, sparking up. Afterwards "Shit, where my inhaler at?"

Sober!Ony who made a great impression on your parents. Perhaps too great.

Your dad loves him, speaking highly of him every time your boyfriend comes up in conversation. "That Ony is a fine, upstanding gentleman," Your dad alway says. Little does he know... "What's that, ma?" His voice is husky in your ear as he thrusts into you roughly. His hand is over your mouth as your childhood mattress squeaks under your weight. Ony has you bent over, his pace punishing as he fucks you from behind. Tears streak your face as you helplessly claw at your sheets "Better be quiet," Ony drawls. "Don't want your folks to hear us, right? Or they gonna know what a slut you are for this upstanding gentleman."

Sober!Ony who loves the way you give head while high.

After many extensive and deep discussions about consent, Ony finally lets you give him head. At first, he was chilling. But then... "Shit, baby! Fuck," He groans, his head falling back. "Slow down, ma." You got his cum on your cheek from the first time he came but you don't care. You don't let up, taking his length down your throat. You suck the entire way down, slurping as you pull back to swirl your tongue around his leaking tip. Your tongue runs along the vein underneath his shaft before taking him back in your mouth, hollowing you cheeks as you slurp him down. "Fuck," He hisses, throwing his arm over his face. You had that man's toes curling and all.

Sober!Ony who loves how sexy you are at any given time of any given day but especially loves when you're feeling yourself while off the za.

Now the skies could fall...not even if my boss should call... Your hips sway seductively to the music as you take a pull from the blunt, in your own world. Lauryn Hill blasts from the radio as your lights change colors in a slow fade. Ony stands at the door of your shared bedroom, watching you sing and dance. You turn slowly, finally noticing him. You wordlessly hold out a hand to him with your body still moving to the music. See I don't need the alcohol...your love make me feel 10 feet tall... He takes your hand, pulling your body close to his. His hands trail your body, finding your ass as the two of you grind on one another. Yeah, Ony is gonna take his time with you tonight.

Sober!Ony who loves you as much as you love him despite your differences.

"Papa, you seen my bong?" "Judie?" "No, the other one." "She in the kitchen cabinet, baby."

"Ma, you seen my screwdriver?" "The fuck you doing drinking those?" "Bae...the tool. My tool." "Oh, it's on the counter by the microwave." a moment later "Onyankopon, what the fuck did you do to my damn radio!"

Overall, Sober!Ony who has changed a lot since the two of you got together. As long as you don't give him any cause for concern, he's happy to let you do as you please (and partake when he feels like it). You level each other up in ways no one expected. You're his lady and Ony doesn't want any one else but you.

"C'mere, my lil pothead," He says, cuddling up to you in bed. "Shut up, nigga." "Watch your mouth. Now lemme rub my legs against yours..."

A/N: I had fun with this. Asks are open!

[bluginkgo]

Quick announcement (before the diarrhea of information):

I'm gonna go on a semi-hiatus for a week or so. I'll still be around, just not posting any drawings. Need to replenish my energy and drawing reserves cause I'm dead >_<

Sleep behind scenes!

So... Ginkgo why the hell did this take you so long? Sorry, sorry 😅 Here's what happened. I got burned out after like 10 pages (specifically the manor backgrounds killed me, plus having the full gang in the story) and then got sick and was not feeling all that great. Working through the burn out, sick, AND college work on top was quite hard not gonna lie though, but I wanted to finish it ^^

Alright, now as for little unnecessary Easter eggs, I added as nods to the show and my other interests. ^_^

1. Undertale save point. Undertale had me sucked in for a good long while, and for some odd reason decided to re-emerge in a form of the star save. Made it purple for Uzi's effect over N. She made him more rebellious, so he started to question why is it his memories and dreams are strange/corrupted/missing instead of just going with the flow.

2. Ep3 nod. V and N have history, history that I wish we get to see. V was nicer, kinder, in my opinion, prior to the absolute solver going rampage. So it makes sense for them to have some sort of friendship at the VERY least. So I decides to give it a small spin to it too. A direct quote from ep3 ^_^

3. Ep 2 + 5 nod. I kinda pulled the moment when James dismissed N from ep2 together with events that follow after N leaves library in ep5. Chronologically, these events don't fit together, seeing as ep2 is when N first meets Cyn and ep5 is when she's already set up the massacre. But this is exactly what I was going for. N's memories are jumbled at best, so I took liberty in mixing, matching, and editing his memories just as the admin program would probably.

4. Absolute Solver symbols nod. My chats with @absolute-solver (sorry for annoying you with tag 😅) made me realize that the absolute solver ought to have more presence now. It's activated and running systems in the background for Uzi. Whiiiiich means that drawing absolute solver should start now. BUT, it's rudimentary at best. Symbols don't really make sense and are not completed for most of the time. Not until Uzi at least sees the error message in ep2, when she truly starts questioning what that weird symbol on her visor is. I headcanon that N does know or at least feel that the absolute solver symbol is familiar, hence the little comment.

5. Absolute Solver Nori. Why is there so many absolute solver Nori around? I'm certain she went back to normal, just like in pictures Khan showed us in ep4 post core collapse. But I connected the solvers together here. Uzi's absolute solver string is up and running, and because the solver is a hivemind, it'd connect the memories and warp them a little. So that's why Uzi's doodle of her and Nori at the end (and during memory recall) was so full of absolute solver. It's slowly taking root, whether she wants it to or not.

Personal touches/added/cut ideas:

N's tail wrapping around Uzi like a hug. Originally, Uzi was supposed to look more nervous, but not for the reasons you might think. I cut the nervous look to a more upset look so it wouldn't be confused for fear. Uzi's never scared of N (yes, I don't count ep2 either, that was a lot of events at once and very little time to process them). The nervous look was more of a "Why are you butting in?" type, you know? Being a loner makes you cautious, so when N prods at feelings, I figured Uzi would be a bit defensive.

Cyn is fully rendered and yet I glitched her so much I felt bad. So here's full absolute solver Cyn eldrich monster thingy. ^_^

I pulled a Hazbin hotel moment. Did you see it? Abracadabra GONE! All the scraps from first couple pages with NUzi chatting POOFED out of the existence. Did I get lazy and tired? Yes, that was the tell tale sign of burn out, when I stopped keeping track of background details and just kept the pod.

These progress shots show pretty well how the story boarding goes and how I change my mind too easily. 😅 storyboard is still as much of a mess as ever, sketch shows you I was gonna keep Uzi's hat, but decided against it in final product. I figured this. Nori gave Uzi the jacket whenever Uzi got a bigger body + hair. These are the same jacket and hair Uzi has in canon. Uzi's body is just upgraded again and her hair gets shorter in that regard. The jacket would be big on her, and cover her hands, but what's up with the fluff if I draw canon jacket more spiky? And where's the death battery drawing? I headcanon Uzi drew those on once she got into the angsty teenager stage. The jacket is more spiky from wear and tear.

Fun fact! You can sorta tell who's gonna show up in the comic by what memes I post prior. Here's some examples ^_^ Cyn showed up, and that was first practice with maid outfits and Cyn's eldrich form. Closely followed by manor gang, the second/final form of maid and butler outfits and prime practice for those scenes. This example is a bit spoiler for a meme I'm working on right now! I've never drawn Nori before, so I quickly sketched out the idea and continued on with the comic (otherwise, I'd lose my steam and procrastinate on it again). Memes are filler for you guys while I work on the actual projects (comics), and along the way, they give me practice and change in drawing style ^_^

Is it a coincidence that this comic is called Sleep with the release of a certain horror game? Actually, yeah pure coincidence 😅 I had this drafted allll the way back in November, and didn't take particular interest in poppy playtime until I saw lanky boi, which was actually during a stream I watched on release day of the chapter.

(I didn't know tumblr, or at least the phone app, had a tag limit of 30, BOY was I surprised @brookiedaaroacecookie that must have been THE tag city, sorry 😅)

Next comic is Loneliness 1 and 2

This one is split into 2 POVs from both Uzi and N side, thus its 2 separate comics. That one will be more NUzi centered, too, a slight angst and comfort spin to it. That will come... sometime. I have a few more projects I wanna finish up with prior to starting on these guys ^_^

Why are you still reading this? Omg, have a cookie 🍪 you made it. Have a nice day now ^_^

[m1ckeyb3rry]

And yes Nagi and Reo would not have been bad! I know the E4 were on the volume of the first version I figured they’d switch it up this time ofc the double itoshi is a big opp move but yeah anyways just glad to see tabieita getting their moments LMAO wait you had a Kunigami stan era omg LMAOO what happened to the no ginger rule /j but yeah he’s chill I just don’t have any heavy investment in him

Justin bieberitis LMAOO YUKI the “my culture is not your costume” has me wheezing otoya would definitely break the fourth wall too it’s such a dumbass otoya vibey thing

I remember that scene of Reo losing his mind screaming at zantetsu it was actually so hilarious LMAOO I do love their silly little dynamic but Reo got roped into the L taking club LAMAOA

SHAJS OTOYA REPARATIONS yeah I guess he can’t be catching ALL the strays I definitely also forgot ampharos has a mega (probably didn’t help that I don’t think I ever really had/used on) I’m still salty that megas were never brought back or continued like they could’ve just expanded and added more megas in the future games instead of swapping up mechanics each gen….but WHAGEVER RRJHSJRH Karasu fr just being surrounded by electric types that can kick his ass LMFAOOO

LAZYTOWN BEING BLLK BORUTO this is too funny but SHSHS DW YOURE ALL GOOD yeah i didn’t realize tumblr sucked this much hopefully it fixes soon?? But also take all the time you need to respond LMAO

No serious young aiku….young aiku…….but alas the stubble exists guys if PxG can have that much hair gel why doesn’t Ubers have a razor…guys come one…..but I agree still in the oaeu bestie zone LMAOO I need him to be my wingman irl

BRO I KNEW IT ITS THAT ONE ARTIST im ngl their memes always have me teetering on conversion territory their art style also definitely evolved a bit since they last posted!!! I saw that and lowk I agree but let’s remain strong for now it’s not the time to fall….but FR we’re gonna be eating so well s2 im so excited to see the favs in action!! All the recent promo material has me losing it too bro THREE DAYS WE’RE SO CLOSE SHSHSKSNSJA you’ll be getting a lengthy ask in your inbox once it airs so you can trust that you’ll need to open it then LMAOO

OMG ANOTHER MIRA DRAWING I’m crying otoya would so say that also the fact that you write in cursive just makes it 10x better HAHAHAH but OOOOH hairstyles!!! Are you deciding between the two or are these two forms of Tullia that exist depending on scenario in pursuit? They both look CUTE THO

OOOOOOOH WAIT 1K EVENT REQ?? Very intrigued and very excited if it does come out by this week I fr will be so stocked on content between that and s2!! Actually wait either way it works because I forgot s2 will be weekly starting from this week (WAHOO) Also wait it HAS been awhile since I’ve been surprised LMAO “how long it ends up being” anytime you say that i know it’s gonna be on the heftier side /j

Also SPICY WHITE GOODBYE also spicy white what does that even mean I’m crying if he was drunk too you should’ve said yes and gaslit him into thinking you were speaking in irish

- Karasu anon

HAHHA yeah right when i started (like in the first couple of eps) i liked kunigami!! ig i was really determined from the beginning not to like isagi…in my defense before the match against team v my options were isagi, bachira, chigiri, the rest of team z who are lowkey irrelevant, niko who actually is rather pretty but is just a bit too little-brother-coded to be attractive, and barou but specifically barou in his UGLIEST era 😭 kunigami was the best in a bad lot SDLKFJ also in that time he was far and away the most talented of team z (esp pre-chigiri-awakening) so there was that aspect…as SOON as nagi showed up though i was like 😍 and never looked back (that’s a lie i actually didn’t think i was going to like nagi at first i was so determined to wait for rin but then i realized i was lowkey giggling at some of nagi’s scenes and rewinding to watch his goals again and shit and that’s when i was like oh…)

JUSTIN BIEBERITIS it’s fr spreading!! LMAOAO no poor yuki i feel like i shouldn’t bully him sm his illness is even worse in pursuit because he was supposed to be an elite four member (hence why chris prince is his mentor) but he was banned from proper competitive battling because the stress made his condition worse 😓 that’s why his team is crazy strong and lowkey not aesthetic-maxed?? like you would think the man would have a milotic or an altaria or some other such elegant pokémon but his starter is a breloom and his team has such stunners as steelix, noivern, and alakazam but it’s because he was meant to beat aspiring trainers’ asses 😭 he just switched to contests because they were less stressful on his eyes and body due to having more of a focus on artistry than sheer-force victory…that’s why he ends up being a good mentor for reader and co he really teaches them how to not waste any energy and be super efficient in every move instead of wasting time and effort!! he’s super cool actually i really do like him unfortunately he’s SOO easy to slander it’s insane 😩 otoya definitely looks into the camera like he’s in the office unironically while in blue lock HAHAH can you imagine one of his teammates does smth stupid and he just stares into ego’s soul with the most unamused expression ever…it probably starts as a joke w karasu and then they both start doing it without thinking because it’s like a habit

YESSS THAT’S THE ONE pls it has me cackling every time reo looks so silly and zantetsu is so miffed meanwhile nagi just looks so concerned in the background bro was fr met with a completely different side of reo than he was used to 😭 reo being roped into the taking l’s club because he was linked up with king of losers tabito karasu #real honestly i think a little bit of humbling is good for him…bonus points if tullia’s watching the battle and reo’s like ��this one’s for you 😁😉🫵🏻” before proceeding to get his shit rocked by the biggest idiots on the planet KSDJHFSLKD the negative aura is unmatched it’s only salvaged because otoya is tullia’s number one opp so she’s still team reo and karasu even though they lost

I LOVED MEGAS imo they were the best gimmick because they were the first and truly felt original/well thought out?? like there was lore behind the megas and the designs were different and pretty instead of just being “pikachu…but BIG” it’s the same with the alolan forms like it was cool the first time but why does every region have its own forms now…anyways yeah i’ve never been a huge ampharos user (as in i’ve never used it) so i always forget it has a mega but it does!! it’s funny actually when i’m looking at it which characters can and can’t mega 🧐 of the main-ish (aka relevant to us) characters nagi, chigiri, and tullia all don’t have any pokémon with mega evolved forms!! meanwhile reo has gallade + mawile, reader has houndoom + gyarados, karasu has pidgeot + garchomp + lucario (i literally forgot about lucario until i checked my notion page w everyone’s teams lowkey this is a win for the karasu girlies??? bro is eating), otoya has ampharos + altaria, barou has houndoom + sharpedo, isagi has charizard, and even hiori has metagross 😭 ofc these are only options definitely not all of these characters will get megas let alone all of the pokémon for each character but it’s def fun to look at!! also wait it would be really funny if otoya can only evolve his altaria since mega altaria is even more fluffy cutesy “girly” as well as being a dragon FAIRY type so that would def make bro crash out just a bit (the coolness of mega evolution does ease the sting a bit though)

YOUNG AIKUUUU MY BELOVED no actually that’s so real should’ve switched rin and barou just so all of the hair product warriors (barou karasu shidou zantetsu) could’ve been on one team SDKLJFH lowkey i would love to see more zantetsu and barou interactions i think they’re so funny together 😭 fr though i know barou def has a spare razor lying around somewhere he’s too neat to NOT so aiku has zero excuse…okay wait actually can i confess that BAROU with the stubble in that one scene where he’s a depressed dilf was SO FINE SDLKFJHSDKLJ FHSL BROOOOO I LOST IT I NEED HIM TO FAIL AT SOCCER AND LIVE THAT LIFESTYLE (WITH ME)

hehehe barou just does it better SORRY aiku anyways yeah i need him to wingman for me HEAVY…IDEC WHO bro can set me up with barou karasu yukimiya nagi reo…i guess sae…otoya (i can actually fix him i know it) karasu karasu did i mention karasu??? karasu—

their art style is sooo pretty but agreed they post rlly infrequently (whenever they do it ends up on my fyp) and they always have a slightly different art style every time!! it’s cool to see the development in real time hehe anyways yeah trust i won’t fall!! although the character i’m writing a request for is pissing me off because they’re being too agreeable to it which is making me…not CONVERT but appreciate them yk (ig that’s process of elimination that i’m not writing a karasu rec but considering how the rest of the characters aren’t miraverse golden standard favs it doesn’t narrow it down too much)

SLKDJFHSD PLEASE i was between writing that or “‘humane euthanasia is the only option’ — eita otoya” for it HAHAHAH yeah i always write in cursive and i think it does add a layer of humor to things because it’s the most ridiculous nonsense written in my pretty handwriting LMAOO 😭 for her hair i was thinking it’ll be scenario dependent!! so like the base hairstyle is the one of her hair down but she ties it back in the messy bun (so #y/n of her) when she’s doing more gross or intensive stuff if that makes sense?? so like the bun is more of a rare find (kinda like no jacket rolled up sleeves karasu) but still present which is why i drew both hehe

1K EVENT REQ YESSSS i’m actually enjoying myself writing it idk if it quite fits with what the requester had in mind but eh wtvr i’m having fun so it’s okay!! it will all end up for the best…yeah unfortunately i do sense it getting to be to the heftier side we’re past 2k words and haven’t met the love interest yet soooo anyways…YESSS WEEKLY S2 I’M SO HYPEEE CAN’T WAIT TO CHAT ABOUT IT AND WATCH IT AND CONSUME EDITS NONSTOP!!

SPICY WHITE HAD ME HOWLINGGGG actually funny enough that was the same night as the coke dude that wicked game was based on as well as the linkedin guy SLDKFHSDLKFJDS anyways apparently spicy white is white but not like white anglo saxon protestant white??? so basically mediterranean and sometimes slavic i think…look i know i look really racially ambiguous and get mistaken for a lot of things (i’ve had people make fun of my parents to my face for not teaching me spanish since they think i’m latina and i have to be like “well they don’t know it either i’m actually indian”, almost everyone including other indian people think i’m either irani or afghani, and when i’m in europe i’m mistaken for spanish or italian quite frequently) so i wouldn’t have been as flabbergasted if he had just gone straight to greek (that was his second guess) but IRISH???? first of all irish is the opposite of spicy white regardless second of all i may be pale by indian/poc standards but irish people are on another level of whiteness typically…like NO ONE ELSE has EVER looked at me and been like “yup she’s irish” as you can tell that was just an insane night all around truly everything was happening

[kasaneteto]

happy new moon in pisces all you gay people in my phone 🫶 a couple weeks ago i posted about refreshing my money bowl for the new moon, and in that posted i hinted at something else i had done that day but wasn’t done yet. this is that thing! for the February full moon i thought it would be the perfect time to craft some love oil! i wasn’t totally set on the intention when i put it together initially, so i’ll showcase how i kinda set up a loophole or a ‘just-in-case’ element to this as well. read moreeeeee 👇

so first and foremost i wanna preface this by saying: this is a self-love spell. i really do not recommend doing love spells on other people without their consent. generally not a great idea and ultimately will probably just end in you being disappointed. of course there’s a difference between trying to attract someone unspecific/someone who has shown interest in you vs a spell with the intention of making someone you like develop feelings for you in return. dont do that last one. you will only end up hurting yourself. (not personally speaking from experience but. yknow. trying to affect the lives of others via witchcraft has gone terribly for me in the past so i cant imagine itd be much different here)

SO WITH THAT OUT OF THE WAY!!!! here’s the breakdown:

everything used here is really basic kitchen ingredients. i used olive oil for the base, and for the herbs used three different kinds: lavender (love and serenity) chamomile (love, protection from negative energy) and cloves (passion, attraction)

first i cleanse the altar space and the container im going to use. after lighting the cherry blossom candle i burned for this spell (v romantic scent, also associated with rebirth and new relationships) i do this with lavender & rose incense that i lit via the candle flame. next i hold the herbs i want to use in my palm one by one and infuse them with my intention. i ask the lavender to help me appreciate and love myself, the chamomile to deflect any negativity i may face, and the cloves to draw in “whatever is meant to be”. this is what i meant by the loop-hole thing. cloves are great for manifesting & abundance but i only added a little bit, less than i usually would. i wasn’t sure whether or not to try and invoke the prospect of meeting someone new, hence ‘whatever is meant to be’

once all the herbs are in the jar i pour in the oil and seal it up! ready to soak up that full moon energy 👍 i set it up on my outside altar, surrounding it with pieces of driftwood rubbed in black salt. this is to protect any unwanted energies from leaking in. i place some amethyst and orange selenite with it, very good self-love crystals

that big stick with the rose quartz on the end is something i made that i call my mood rod. i use it to directly channel the moon’s energy into whatever im making (which is just moon water most of the time)

and after the night is over, i take it back inside and place it in the bathroom at my self love altar to steep for two weeks! whenever i think to i pick it up and swish the herbs around a little bit and sing a lil song about how im awesome and i love myself 🫶

fast forward to last night. its been steeping in all that self-love, its time to finalize my intentions with this spell! but i need a little bit of guidance before i can make a final decision here. whenever im unsure whether or not a spell is a good idea/how to go about it, its time to consult the tarot.

so with my intentions for this pell in mind, i ask the tarot if its wise to try and invoke the manifesting aspect of the cloves

pretty loud and clear! anyone who can read tarot will know this is a “dont do it” answer. without going too much into detail about the cards individually, the first two are of the wand arcana (associated with fire and therefore passion) and are being shown in the reversed position. the card in the middle represents speed, so to see it reversed in this case means the opposite (not every reversal has a completely opposite meaning to the original but in this case it does) and the last card is the major arcana justice, which is pretty self explanatory like idk if i can explain the concept of justice to you sorry. basically in layman’s terms what this is saying to me is to just be patient. fighting an uphill battle wont do me any good right now. just focus on yourself and in due time things will turn out in your favor! duly noted! those cloves are there just for me now. my cloves

setting her out under the new moon! this time ive adorned her with seashells (pisces energy) rose quartz (love) and unakite (self love, discipline, and in this case, bond severing)

the next day its time to strain the oil into an eyedropper!!!!!! an arduous task indeed

👆the face of intense concentration. its hard to do this without making a bit of a mess. hence the plate.

BOOM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! THATS HOW YOU MAKE SELF LOVE OIL BABY!!!!!!!! i’ll use this to annoint things in future love spells OR just as a topical when i need a confidence boost. its just straight olive oil so it double as a moisturizer Too 😋 thanks for reading!!!!! everyone love each other and most of all love urself!!!! 🫶

[vhe]

party flavour!


[nctsworld]

reigniting

✩ mark x reader | dance au | enemies to lovers | car s*x | smut | fluff | 1.6k

SUMMARY ⇾ your hate for your dance captain (and ex-best friend) melts and evolves into something more for the night. WARNINGS‌ ‌⇾‌ smut (near the end), car s*x, swearing, angst in backstory RATING ⇾ mature FOR ⇾ @markleesflathead​ 

AUTHOR’S NOTE ⇾ yes i’m bitter that most of my fics in ask form don’t show up in tag so i might have to post them as individual fics hhh || @markleesflathead​ idk how this ended up into car s*x but i’m sorry if it isn’t what you really expected slkfmd also i’m v flattered to be one of your fave writers *_* thanks for the bday wishes!!

“I missed this.”

Mark suddenly says into the air after catching his breath from all the laughing he just did. With the hand that’s been resting on the steering wheel since he parked the car fifteen minutes ago, he swipes his thumb against it.

Your laughter subsides too, turning your head in the passenger seat to get a good look at him.

The closest street lamp isn’t near enough to cast a light to see all his features clearly, but you don’t need much lighting to see the waver behind his bespectacled face, nor the way his Adam’s apple bobs.

“I missed you,” he whispers softly, then matches your eyes with a tilt of his head.

The beginning was simple. You and Mark, best friends since middle school, about to attend the same university and were going to do everything together, including extracurriculars.

Which included the university’s main competitive hip-hop dance team, since both of you were on your high school’s too.

From what you heard from upperclassmen, every year, the team offered at least five spots open. Of course, Mark and you were confident in yourselves and each other to make the team.

But during your first year, only one spot was available on the team.

The straining of your friendship began to slowly occur, since you saw less of each other in order to train more individually for the auditions.

And when the auditions happened, there was a new tension between Mark and you. Still friends, but competitiveness was a prevalent wall between you two.

The wall grew larger, tangled with vines of jealousy and bitterness, when Mark received the spot, not you.

Both parties tried hard to keep the friendship afloat, but it eventually came crashing down.

“You’re just fucking jealous that I got in and you didn’t.”

“Yeah,” you said. “and I should be, because I’m the better dancer.”

“As if.” he scoffed. He spat out the next words venomously—

“If you were better they would’ve chose you, but you’ve just never been as good of a dancer as me.”

That was the last time you spoke to Mark... for a while, at least.  

When second year came by, you decided to prove him wrong and obtain a spot on the team. Successfully, you did, but partway through the term, the captain dropped out and, to your dismay, Mark was given captaincy.

Fast-forward to today, Mark constantly gave you shit during practices and you knew it was personal.

Sure, you could’ve quit, but you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. However, you always did wonder why he didn’t decide to kick you off the team when he had the power to do so.

Following one practice, Mark ordered you to come by the studio on a separate night for a talk. He claimed it to be extra training, but you were mentally prepared for him to finally remove you from the team.

However, you were wrong and the unexpected happened—the wall between you two began to crumble. The hostile professionalism during the extra session grew into an area of familiarity, remnants of a lost friendship. After the session, Mark swallowed his pride and apologized about what he said back then, even offering to take you out to dinner.

During the meal, both of you caught each other up on the last year or so, and at the end of the night, Mark drove you home.

Laughing, smiling, and talking with you like the last couple of years were a nightmare faded into nothingness.

And you didn’t mind it, because you missed him too.

But instead of telling him that, you nibble on your bottom lip and rock your head forward with a small smile.

Continuing the conversation from where you left off, after Mark agreed to stop giving you such a hard time during practice, you say, “Can I ask you to stop doing one more thing during practice?”

“What’s up?”

“Please, for the love of God,” you say with your hands clasped in a prayer. “Stop rolling your shirt sleeves up, it’s terribly distracting.”

A hearty chuckle escapes from Mark, leaning his head back into the headrest. “Why is it distracting?”

“You know why!” you exclaim, beaming. “I know you do it on purpose!”

He cocks an eyebrow playfully. “And why would I do that?”

Rolling your eyes, you reply, "Because I know the oh-so humble Mark Lee still loves it when he gets attention."

The driver runs his tongue over the bottom of his teeth in a smirk, hand still on the steering wheel.

"And what about you?” he retorts. “You must still have a thing for arms if you think it's distracting."

You gasp inaudibly, unsure of how he could still remember that tidbit after all these years, and you twist your upper body to inch near him, glaring at him accusingly. "Is that why you do it?"

"Maybe, maybe not..." he shrugs nonchalantly. Leaning closer to you, parroting your stance, he adds in a teasing whisper along with a squint of his eyes.

"You'll never know."

There’s a passing beat as your eyes lock, one that carries the weight of the years of loving each other as friends, hating each other as enemies, working together as dancers, and everything in between.

A moment of connection that represents what everything has been working towards to for a long time, even if you never thought you’d have the chance to ever have Mark in your life again.

His look falters for a millisecond, flicking to your lips, then straight back to your eyes as if he shouldn’t have done that.

The corner of your mouth lifts slightly.

"Are you going to kiss me, Mark,” you whisper daringly. “or are you going to keep staring?"

You’re awfully aware of both of your breathing. Yours, heavy and wanting. His, light and barely existent.

"How do you know I wanna kiss you?" he croaks, a small crack in his voice underlying his question.

Because maybe a little part of you always wondered what it’d be like for Mark Lee to want to kiss you since you were kids—for him to send you that anxious starry-eyed yearning that could send your heart into cardiac arrest.

And now, from first-hand experience, you know it really does.  

You hold your breath and question back—

"Am I wrong?”

The tension in the air snaps. He’s fast to cup your cheeks and crash his mouth into yours. Soft lips move in tandem with yours as you rest your hands on his shoulders, lightly tugging at his body.

The first, tender kiss is quickly thrown aside, along with your shirts. The desire escalates immensely and you’re suddenly straddling him in the driver’s seat, now pushed back to give extra room for both individuals.

"Should we slow down?" you ask offhandedly at one point while Mark’s mouth leaves a hot trail down the side of your neck. At the same time, his fingers glide and grip onto your bare waist, making their way to grasp your breasts.

Mark jerks away from your neck and carefully caresses the back of your head. "Do you want to?"

"Mm-mm,” you hurriedly shake your head and drag him into another strong kiss.

The exciting rush continues to run through both bodies present. When you return to the passenger seat momentarily to rid of your pants, Mark shimmies his bottoms and briefs down to his ankles and pulls a condom from his glove compartment.

“How often do you have car sex?” you joke, straddling him once again after he wraps himself.

In his reclined position, Mark looks up and scans your body quickly, both indulging in your natural beauty and in disbelief that you are here with him right now, after all these years.

“Hey, a guy’s gotta be safe—fuck, God.”

All quips and logic are thrown out the window when you sit on his length.

You have one hand pressed against his defined stomach, the other on the car ceiling. Bouncing with no end in sight, you allow the pleasure to enrapture your senses. Muffled whimpers reverberate against the inner side of your wrist as you feel him deeply with every movement.

On the other hand, Mark tries his best to keep his focus on you, but the intensity breaks him down. He groans in pace with your moving body, and he tightens his hold on your waist.

“Mark—” you cry. You rip your hand from the car roof and, without thought, frantically push it against the driver’s window, smudging the frost that all your collective breathing conjured up. You’re surprisingly already coming undone, and so is your lover beneath you.

“I’m close,” he pants thickly. His hazy gaze attempts to meet your half-lidded eyes, but you’re losing control. All you can do is barely nod and as you’re about to bounce more vigorously, Mark releases your waist and raises himself upward, clutching your back and neck to lock lips fiercely with yours.

You barely can thrust against him, but you don’t need to at this point, because the kiss is simply enough to draw out his climax.

You’re pulled back to reality after a few moments, panting with your foreheads tipped against one another.

“And to counter your question from before,” Mark grins, still breathing heavily. “I’ll only stop rolling my sleeves up during practice if you stop tying your shirt up to show off your waist.”

You try to stifle a smirk, but it can’t be helped. You reply to him with a flutter of the tip of your nose against his.

“No deal, captain.”

nctsworld’s birthday week celebration!

[sillyrabbit81]

The Instructor Part 2

Summary: You and Agent Walker meet again

Pairing: August Walker x Female Reader

Word Count: approx 2.4k

Warnings: angst, smut, dubious consent, unprotected sex (p in v), fingering

Masterlist

Part 1 Part 3

The Instructor Part 2

A month came and went.

Then six weeks.

Seven.

Eight.

Then you stopped counting.

You felt used, and grew angry. The submissive part of your nature had been taken advantage of and you swore it wouldn’t happen again. Never again would you allow your desires to be seen by any man, let alone by Agent Walker. You collect your memories of him, gather them into a box, seal it tight and bury it in the darkest corner of your mind. You don’t even bring it out on lonely nights anymore, it hurts too much.

You focus on work and fall into your new routine: wake up, work out, work late, eat take out, sleep, repeat. The days soon melted into one, weekends forgotten as the routine is the same as weekdays. Your work was repetitive and uninspiring. You were a junior Agent after all. You knew to expect a few years of grunt work before anything meaningful. You kept your head down and did what you had to do, hoping your diligence paid off and the higher ups noticed.

Despite your hard work, you were surprised when you were called into your boss’s office for a new assignment. She tells you that an opening came up on a surveillance team in the field focussed on a group of foreign nationals. She told you strictly that there would be no interaction with the group, surveillance only. You agree to the new posting, thankful for the break in monotony and chance to develop your skills.

“Just a moment, here is the lead Agent now.” She says.

You turn as the door opens and Agent Walker strolls in, his clipped yet casual gait doesn’t falter as he notices you. A lump rises in your throat as you see him for the first time in months. You don’t know how to feel, but your body reacts. With a pounding heart and clenching stomach, you keep your features smooth as possible, allowing the smallest hint of a smile to widen your lips. An appropriate response to seeing your old instructor, nothing more, nothing less. His eyes flicker with recognition, his small smile and nod was just as appropriate. He says to your boss, “Is this the addition to the team?”

“Do you two know each other?”

You don’t deny it. You’re not stupid enough to believe your boss doesn’t know every Agent you’ve ever interacted with so you say, “Of course, Agent Walker was one of my instructors at The Farm.” Boldly you continue speaking more for Walker’s benefit than your boss, “But I haven’t seen him in… what is it Agent? Four months?”

“Four and a half,” he replies, with a tilt of the head.

“Four and a half,” you repeat. Like bile rising in your throat, anger fills you and for a moment you know he sees it. Forcing the rising tide of fury down you say, “Well, time flies when you’re having fun.” You bare your teeth at him in what you hope your boss takes as a smile and Walker takes for the ‘fuck you’ it was. Walker narrows his eyes at you then turns his attention to your boss.

You discuss more details of the case and travel arrangements then you are dismissed. Leaving the two of them together you tidy your desk of personal belongings since you didn’t know when or if you would return and go home to prepare.

Once you are through the gates of Langley and no longer under direct video surveillance you start to shake. Seeing him again rocked you to your core you hoped you hadn’t given anything away with your comments. Was it a coincidence that you were promoted and put in his team or had he asked for you? Neither Walker or your boss had given anything away. No time to think about it now, you had packing to do and less than two hours to get to the airbase where you would be sent to DC for the job.

You showered quickly, resisting the urge to release some of the growing tension in your gut. You hadn’t touched yourself in months and you wouldn’t start now.

Trying to push thoughts of Agent Walker from your mind was a futile task. Instead you focussed on keeping your anger raw so you wouldn’t fall under his spell again. You had accepted that he wasn’t coming back. Did he have a knack for that? Only showing himself to you when you had moved on. You wouldn’t let him take you easily this time, this time he would not get satisfaction, not after what he had done. You shake your head, ‘this time’ you say, recognising the lies you tell yourself.

You start to get dressed when you hear a short rap on the door. Fuck, the car had arrived early. You pull a robe on as you answer the door, to let the driver know you’ll be a few more minutes.

Throwing the door wide, you’re greeted by Agent Walker, his face firm, furrowed brows looking you up and down. The collar of his dark woollen coat is pulled up, framing his face drawing your attention to his piercing stare. Frozen for a moment, you can do nothing but return his gaze. You’re a deer in headlights until he sucks his lower lip into his mouth and your body is propelled into action.

You slam the door closed, but he is quicker than you, a huge paw catching it and he forces his way into your apartment. You back away, but he kicks the door closed behind him and advances, with predatorily confident and rapid steps.

He catches your throat and brings you to him. He skin is rough with unshaven hair that is yet to grow soft. His lips are so smooth and warm, that you can’t help but melt into him. You hate him.

When he pulls away, he smiles at you almost sweetly and you can’t help the hand that flies on its own and makes a loud crack as it hits Walkers cheek.

You’re both stunned. Walker tongues his cheek and works his jaw a moment. “I hope you enjoyed that, pet. The first one is free, but the next one will come at a price.” He doesn’t seem angry, in fact his tone suggests amusement, which only fuels your rage.

“Get out,” you say. You try and keep your voice steady, but you know it warbled with fear as you looked into his eyes.

“No,” Walker says. He casually removes his coat folding it neatly and laying it over the back of your dining chair. He removes his scarf, placing it on top of his coat before he unbuttons his dark brown suit jacket and loosens his tie. You watch him, mind fixated on each of his careful movements. As if he were performing burlesque show, each minute act became a piece of seduction.

He sits in another chair and pats his lap, “Come, pet.” He calls to you in his gentle authoritative voice.

Before you can stop yourself, you take a step towards him. But then you notice his smirk, and you shrink away. You can’t speak but you shake your head as you retreat towards your bedroom.

Walker starts to look irritated and his voice gains a hard edge that both terrifies you and thrills you. “Come. Here,” he repeats. “I won’t say it again, pet.”

“Fuck you, Walker,” you spit out, your anger spilling from you, becoming a torrent as you wrestle within yourself.

He peers at you with his contemplating blue eyes. Then he sighs and moves before you can even register his actions. You turn, to run, but he is quicker and stronger. But more than that, his desire to have you is stronger than your desire to run.

His vice like arms trap you as he forces you against the wall, his body pressing into your back. “Why do you fight me, pet?” His voice rumbles into your ear. “I thought we had an understanding.”

Your tears came then, the rejection you felt was no longer able to be contained. That box of memories, buried for months smashes apart and so does your control. “You left me,” you sob. “You used me then left me.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, ashamed at how quickly you relented and told him anything. You laugh at yourself, why did you believe even for a second you could hide anything from him? The only man who saw into your very soul.

“I know, pet,” Walker drones, his lips caressing your ear as he does. “I can’t promise it won’t happen again.”

“I know,” you reply.

His hand is in your hair, smoothing the strands away from your face. His tender touch was unexpected but welcome. You feel soft kisses on your eye lids and you slowly stop crying. His tongue comes out, licking at your wet cheeks and you hear his breathing shudder as he laps up your pain.

You open your eyes, he growls as your shining eyes meet his. He plants a foot between your legs forcing them apart while he undoes his belt and pants and you hear them crumple to the floor. His hand tilts your hips back for him while the other pulls aside your underwear as he roughly explores your centre, coating his fingers in your arousal.

You hear a muttered, “Fuck,” as his finger enters you, circling your walls, stretching you before a second enters. “Fuck, pet. Have you touched yourself at all since I fucked you?”

Unsure of what he would think, you reply hesitantly, “No. You said I was yours.”

Walkers features soften as he says, “I knew you were a good girl.” Your whole body bursts into flames and your core clenches around his thick, thrashing fingers as you hear his whispered praise.

With precise and sudden movements, his fingers are withdrawn and his broad, leviathan cock bludgeons into you. Biting down on your lips to supress the cry growing in your throat you savour the feeling of being torn apart. Wasting no time, Walker moves with vicious, aggressive speed, wounding you with his thrusts, ripping apart your defences.

Pulling down your robe, he exposes your chest. His wanton hands knead your breasts as he uses them for leverage, his pounding never stops. You hear his breaths primal and raw as he assaults your neck with his mouth and teeth. He moves his depraved mouth to your shoulders sinking his teeth in deep. The pain feels like a caress when you are this close to the edge.

Walker turns you around, lifts your leg to his hip as he enters you again. His eyes are clinical as he studies your reaction. You feel boneless under his scrutiny and close your eyes again looking away. Walker grips your throat in his hand and uses his long fingers to push your cheek back in his direction.

“Open your eyes, pet,” he orders. “I know you’re close. I want to see your eyes when you call my name.”

The pressure builds deep within your gut as you keep your eyes glued to his. His breath, warm and minty with a hint of gin maybe, tickles at your cheek. You want to kiss him, taste him, feel his tongue invade you and devour you. You silently beg him to and as if hearing your thoughts, he slowly moves his mouth to yours. His eyes stay open as he flicks his tongue over your lips before taking your lower lip between his teeth.

Like a taut elastic, your core grows tighter and your knee gives out as the rush of warmth whips through your body. He lets go of your lip in time for you to shout “August!”

Your body pulses and your tightening muscles strain with contractions until you feel all the tension fall away. Like a rag doll you slump against him. But he isn’t finished with you.

Walker lifts your lulling head with a firm thumb under your chin, He continues his frenzied thrusts with a new vigour having succeeded in his task. He fucks your listless body, you’re too spent to move, and he doesn’t care. With a stuttering final thrust he pushes deep into you, clenching his teeth, whiskered lip raised in a snarl as he growls with his final throes.

He raised his hand to your face, his thumb laying a single burning caress down your tear stained cheek. “Go wash up, I’ll pack for you,” he says before pulling away and doing up his pants.

You shower again, consciously cleaning August’s seed spilling slowly from your ruined core. Each time you think you’re clean, you feel more leaking from you and you wash again. The bathroom door opens and August enters making a show of looking at his watch.

You sigh, and turn the shower off. His eyes inspect your body as he hands you a towel. He makes no effort to leave as he watches you towel off and you awkwardly squeeze past him as you make your way to your bedroom. He has laid an outfit on your bed, complete with underwear and shoes. Your gun is on your bed in its holster with spare clips by its side. You don’t say anything to him and dress in the clothes he chose and slipped your holster onto your belt, pocketing the spare clips.

Walker is waiting at the door with your overnight bag in his hand. You give the apartment a quick look over, making sure everything is turned off and sling your handbag over your shoulder. August opens the door for you, and as you slip past him his arm wraps around your waist and he kisses you.

The deep demanding kiss you wanted earlier was nothing compared to this, his lips were bruising and hard, but his tongue explored your mouth with a soft insistence. Your hands were free and for the first time, you touched him, laying a hesitant hand on his chest, and another on his neck. His skin felt hot under yours and testing his limits you slid your fingers into his hair and were rewarded with a barely audible groan.

Then he pulled his head away with a jerk and without looking at you said, “Go to the car. You’re making us late.”

Disappointed but not surprised you went to the car wondering where this assignment would take the two of you.

Part 3

Tag List

@henryobsessed @omgkatinka @legendarywizarddetective @posiemax @nostalgicb-txh @moonlacebeam @anitababi @agniavateira

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

not allowed v, m | myg

pairing(s): yoongi x reader, mentions of jungkook x reader – est. poly relationship

summary: BTS have had a long, busy day. Heck, a busy week, preparing for 2021 Grammys performance and interviews. It’s finally over, and all Min Yoongi wants is to take a shower and sleep with his favorite person. There’s no one like you. He deserves some special treatment – some belated birthday wishes granted perhaps?

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; domestic shower care (aww) and shower sex (hell yeah); feels and fluff; smut (fem reader, dirty talk, fingering, nipple play, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, handjob / blowjob (with tongue technology), f-receiving oral, doggy, spanking); idol!BTS; occurs the night of the 2021 Grammys

part of ‘not allowed’ series, but can be read alone. basic summary: MYG asks JJK to fuck you, again, let’s keep this going, oop JK dyed his hair blue; based on real time.

–

"I'm sorry you didn't win."

"It's okay. It was a long shot anyway."

"Well, you are good at basketball, so you can make a long shot, easy."

A deep, raspy chuckle. "Next time."

Water drummed against the tile, the rhythm interrupted by you working shampoo through black hair, conjuring fistfuls of lathered white clouds. The head lifted a little and you were about to chastise him, but one look into those black-brown eyes and small sheepish smile looking down at you, and you forgot what you were going to say. 

"It was never about us anyway. We wanted to win so ARMY could brag about us."

You grinned, chuckling a little. "They always brag about you, Yoongi."

You saw something flit across his face, but he didn't say anything. You already knew. I wish you could brag about me. And you did, but not in the way he wanted, because he was Min Yoongi, SUGA of BTS, Agust D sometimes, and your secret all of the time. You closed the distance, a simple, sweet kiss in response to his wordless wish, I know, me too, hands curling in his soapy hair, smiling gently against his lips. Hm. You could feel Yoongi was thoroughly enjoying your wet breasts against his chest. 

Something hard was poking you quite insistently.

You drew back a little and Yoongi's hands circled your waist, keeping your hips to him.

"Thought you said you were sleepy?" you teased.

Yoongi grinned slyly. "I changed my mind."

You chuckled, tipping his head back to rinse his hair off, forcing him to close his eyes with a displeased grunt. You could tell from his dark circles that he was tired from the stress of the day, having to wake up at two in the morning and be ready for his call time at five, but he still insisted for you to come, still insisted for you to sneak around and be here when he came home. You didn't get to see Yoongi on his birthday and not during the weekend before either. He was too busy filming content and preparing for the Grammys.

You did send him a voice message of you singing happy birthday and he replied with, thank you, my love, instead of the usual, you would benefit from a vocal coach, which meant he missed you far too much to tease you. 

You carefully straightened his neck and Yoongi breathed out, raising a hand to push his black hair away from his face, slicking it back and exposing his forehead. 

Oof.

Sexy. 

Yoongi's eyes opened, dark brown orbs reflecting the mischief in his smirk. 

"You sure you don't want me to call the maknae?" he asked not-so-innocently. 

You narrowed your eyes at him. He knew what he was doing. 

Your boyfriend had posted a selfie this morning, only to be followed up by Jeon Jungkook’s adorable pose in a colorful fluffy flannel shirt on Weverse. Earlier in the week, Jungkook had cutely invaded and sang happy birthday on Yoongi’s celebratory live, and then put up a picture of himself on his post for said hyung’s birthday.

The absolute gall of the Golden Maknae. 

Needless to say, you were disappointed, but not surprised. Only slightly though. Jungkook was like that. A little bit – alright, a lot – of a naughty little shit that needed his cock brutally choked by your throat or pussy every once in a while. Actually, no, definitely both, just to be on the safe side. But this day was not that day.

"You said you wanted to be selfish today," was your calm response to Yoongi's question, reaching behind him to rinse off your hands, pressing your tits into his chest. Your eyes flickered up to his. Yoongi raised an eyebrow as your fingers trailed on his back, drawing small patterns. 

"Has he been a bad boy?" he chuckled, referring to, of course, the shameless audacity of your other boyfriend, well-loved and doted-on Jeon Jungkook. 

Your expression matched his, inquiring but already knowing the answer. A silent conversation between kindred souls that followed the same thought process. Closer, water gliding between your bodies, lips fitting against his, lightly nipping at his lower lip as if to say, we're both a little mean, Yoongi chuckling in agreement as he captured your lips forcefully. Hands all over wet bodies, pressing him to you and him reciprocating, hot water seeming hotter, steam getting steamier, kisses passionate and intense, Yoongi pushing you into the shower wall, not letting you get away.

Jungkook had known you were coming, but he wasn't allowed to attend this time. 

He said he was tired from the events of today and he wanted you to spend time with Yoongi alone because it had been Yoongi's birthday recently and they should definitely get special treatment during their birthdays, right?

"I want special treatment on my birthday, so I suppose hyung should as well..." 

"Ah, that's too bad, I was looking forward to punishing you."

"Noona...!" You could hear the shy pout in Jungkook's voice as it lowered, whispering into his phone. "Don't say stuff like that..."

You heard a sneaky cat-like purr in the background. "Say what?"

Jungkook started and you heard the violent rattle of the phone falling, followed by scrambles to retrieve it. Ah. You could see now why Jungkook's phone was taped.

"Hyung! Don’t... I thought you were still in the bathroom..."

"Mmm." You knew that what that hum meant. You've been on the phone for a while. And Jungkook had, lamenting that he wished they could have won the award and had a celebration live with ARMY and you had to reassure him over and over that there would be more chances and ARMY was already very proud with the nomination, yourself included. 

"Uh... do you want to talk to hyung? He's here..." Jungkook did not sound like he wanted to give his phone up. He was only asking out of politeness.

"No, Jungkook, I'll see him in a bit."

"She said no, huh?" Yoongi mused and then you heard the sounds of footsteps wandering away. 

Jungkook made a questioning noise, but you reoriented him rather quickly. 

"I want to hear your voice some more, Jungkook." You recalled the opening of the Grammys 'Dynamite' performance and his teasing, cocky nose scrunch. "Was feeling rather sexy during the recording, weren't you?"

"You saw?" An edge of excitement to his tone. "That was for you, noona," he added playfully. 

"No, it wasn't."

His faint, wicked snicker. "Okay, you're right, but I did think about you while doing it."

"Mmmhmm. What part of me? My smiling face or my warm mouth wrapped around your cock?"

"Noona!"

Alright, you did end up giving Jungkook a little bit of punishment, because neither you nor himself could help it. And at the very end, he played along, whining for you because he knew you wanted him to. Fuck, he was getting clever now, remembering all the things you liked. Stupid sexy Jungkook and his duality.

"Can't I come too? Please, noona?"

It took a lot of refuse his cute voice, but you did make a promise to Yoongi and you never broke your promises.

"Sorry, Jungkook, you're not allowed this time."

Reliving your memory was abruptly interrupted by two fingers sliding into your pussy.

"Excuse you," you muttered into Yoongi's lips. 

"What are you thinking about that's gotten you so wet, hm?" he drawled, dripping water down your cheeks and chest, kissing from your lips and up your jaw, slowly working his fingers in and out, your wetness thicker, warmer than the water, leaking down his knuckles. His voice in your ear, low and dangerous, making you fall for him more and more. "Thinking about me or the maknae?"

...

Min Yoongi knew you too well.

"T-That's..."

Couldn't think of a smart comeback, not with Yoongi's voice so sensual and invasive, staring up at the hazy ceiling while he sucked on your ear, biting your lip to stifle your moans, nerves lighting with shivering arousal. His fingers controlled, measured, focused on deeply penetrating you to graze your favorite spots, rubbing your walls and pressing his thumb into your clit, slow circles causing throbs of pleasure to glide through you. Yoongi knew all the places that made you weak, licking right under your ear to make you whimper for him, kissing and sucking up and down the curve. The warm water created a steady hum, background music for his dirty words. 

"Is that why Jungkookie ran so fast to the bathroom earlier today, hm? Mmm, you shouldn't mess with him so much. You should know better as his noona," Yoongi murmured softly, speeding up, catching your earlobe with his teeth and tugging on it, words slightly muffled as he continued, waves of heat flaring upwards with every thrust. "He'll keep teasing you, pretending it's for ARMY, and then when he has you next, he'll make you beg for his cock…" Teeth biting down, leaving a visible mark, his gravelly whisper sparking inhibitions. 

"And I'm going to watch you."

Fuck you, Min Yoongi, for always knowing the right thing to say.

Yoongi flicked your clit and you cried out, bucking into his hand, almost losing balance, but his left arm came up behind the small of your back and held you in place, strong and unyielding, orgasm cut short with your sudden worry of straining his recovery, but Yoongi already knew, cooing comfortingly in your inflamed ear. 

"I was dancing during the recording, remember?"

Right, he was cleared to dance, but still...

And again, Yoongi led you back into the proper headspace, kissing and nipping down your neck, tongue against your collarbones, stroking your side with his left hand as his right pushed in and out of you, building the pace and your needy gasps once more. 

"Shh, you're a good girl, don't move and nothing bad will happen."

A tinge of menace in his voice, indicating the double meaning, I won't get hurt and maybe you won't get punished. Only a maybe though, sending a delighted spark up your spine, pressing your shoulder blades into the shower wall, instinctively raising one of your legs to give Yoongi more space. You glanced down, but he wasn't looking at you, eyes calmly closed, soaked black strands sticking to his forehead as his pink lips wrapped around one of your nipples. Instant pleasure from his expert tongue, teasing the moans of his name out of you, praising him, fuck yes, Yoongi, so good, I love this, fingers filling you repeatedly, thumb knuckle grinding onto your clit, sucking on your hard nipple. You were so focused on the feeling that your torso froze up, head and hands pressed into the wall, back arcing as you came, pulses of ecstasy enveloping you, but Yoongi didn't stop, forcing another finger inside your tight hole, whines in your throat as your shuddering pussy sucked it in, still riding waves of aftershocks.

His left hand slid up and pinched your ignored nipple. 

"Yoongi, fuck...!"

You could only curse the gods that created the genius that was Min Yoongi, chuckling as he rubbed your left nipple, sucked on the right, thumb knuckle on your clit, three fingers fully stuffed inside you, so hard and so fast that his forearm was nearly vibrating. Too coordinated, too rough, too much, mind going blank, already orgasming, and again, and again, not stopping.

He was too good. 

Yoongi wasn’t going to stop until you made him. 

Your eyes rolled back, rocketing bolts of pleasure overtaking everything, entire body shaking and quivering with overstimulation, your own knuckles white because your fingers somehow curled into fists, moans rattling your chest as wave after wave of pleasure attacked you, pushing you to the brink of collapse.

"Y-Yoongi, oh, fuuuuuuuk, Yoongi!"

Your body made the executive decision for you, left hand shooting down and grabbing his forearm, gripping it tightly, gasping for air, making sure to keep his long fingers buried all the way inside, his hard muscle flexing under your palm. Fuck, so hot. Yoongi immediately stopped, detaching his mouth from your nipple, and you could barely protest, tremors thundering through your torso as your pussy spasmed and soaked his fingers with your sweet-sour juices, your inner muscles rapidly clenching and unclenching around him, his low moans filling your ears as he felt each strong pulse, stretching his fingers against your convulsing walls to amplify your pleasure and feel it all.

"Fuck..." Yoongi panted, leaning against you and your heaving chest. "Fuck, you're so pretty when you're wrecked." 

His lips on your temple, kissing you fiercely, grinding his crotch into your hip and revealing how hard he was as you tried to come down, tried to calm your heart threatening to pound out of your chest. You turned your head to face him and he was there, devouring your lips with rough kisses, pulling his fingers out to tug and pinch at your nipples with his knuckles, smirking at your submissive whines, your hands wandering down and gripping his length, leisurely stroking him.

Now Yoongi was the one gasping into your mouth, switching to rubbing your hard sensitive nipples to coax you to do more, switching your positions in the shower so his back was to the water. The two of you were only half-finished washing up, but neither of you seemed to notice or care.

You backed up a little, breaking the kiss, seeing Yoongi’s dazed expression as you lightly cupped the head of his cock in your palm, gently rolling into the slickness, continuing for several seconds before adding a little more pressure. He inhaled sharply, pleading for more with his breathing alone. His chin was slightly tilted upwards, black hair sticking to his forehead, pink lips slightly parted, water trickling in rivets down his neck and chest.

Yoongi noticed you staring and gave you his trademark open-mouthed smirk.

Who taught Jeon Jungkook how to be hot as hell?

It had to have been Min Yoongi.

You mentally took note of this image of wet Yoongi so you could masturbate to it later.

He cocked a brow and you cocked one back, challenging him. Then you dropped to your knees, careful with the slippery floor, and yanked his hips to your face so he blocked all of the water with his body. His stiff length smacked you in the lips and smeared pre-cum on them. You heard Yoongi gasp and you looked up, seeing him watching you, expectation and hunger in his dark eyes.

You smirked, tongue snaking out and licking your lips to taste him.

“Is my good girl going to do all my favorite things?” he drawled in his extra-low octave.

Your pussy throbbed at his domineering tone. You didn’t have to say anything, your scorching gaze alone creating that amused smirk on Yoongi’s lips. I know what you want. One hand holding up his cock, leaning forward, and Yoongi groaned in satisfaction, your mouth sucking in one of his balls, your deft tongue circling the other in loud, messy slurps, suffocating one while licking the other. You flicked your wrist back and forth, pumping his cock as you worked his balls, lips tight and pulling slightly, tongue flexed and slapping against the other.

You looked up at Yoongi’s dilated pupils, knowing that he could see flashes of your pink tongue against his balls, your hand stroking him slowly and deliberately.

“You’re so good, fuck… So fucking good at that,” Yoongi panted. “Every other man in the world is jealous that they’re never going to get to experience this.”

You popped your mouth off, making him hiss with pleasure. “That’s not true. I’ll give it to Jungkookie eventually.”

“Ah, he’s lucky that I picked him.”

You raised your eyebrows, you picked him, uh huh, I was the one stalking him on Twitter, and Yoongi nudged you with his hips, eyes narrowing dangerously, put my balls in your fucking mouth, and you obeyed, switching to his right side and sucking it into your plush lips, tongue snaking out to lap at his left one, now pumping him with your dominant right hand. He sucked in a breath, moaning softly, clenching his jaw as you increased to his favorite pressure and speed.

“Fuck, yes, make me cum just like this,” he snarled, as much a plea as it was an order, rocking his hips a little so he tugged on his balls in your mouth, forcing you to suck harder and lick more roughly to keep him in place, obscene slurps adding another layer to the song that was the falling water, Yoongi’s moans, and the rapid slap-slap-slap of your hand furiously jacking off his twitching hardness. You glanced up at him and he was observing you closely, drinking in every second of your mouth, hand, and spread-open thighs as you kneeled for him, water dripping off your nipples and ass, groaning your name, tone saturated with lust.

“Ah, fuck, I love you so much, you look so fucking good like this…”

You could tell he was getting close with how shallow his breathing was becoming. Tighter, harder, so devoted to the cause that you were whimpering to add vibration to the multiple sensations, drunk on the taste of his skin and the scent of his pre-cum right next to your head, needing it, wanting it, right now, your eyes telling him, please Yoongi, cum for me, want you to cum for me so bad, and he bit his lip, tense growl contained in his throat that morphed into a drawn-out wail.

“Fuck, now, fuck!”

You abruptly pulled off his balls and Yoongi gasped, startled and confused as you quickly repositioned yourself so he shot thick strings onto your mouth, painting your red swollen lips with drizzles of white, up your cheek and onto your nose, dark eyes wide as he witnessed his indecent mark on you. Like something out of a literal porno, your lips coated with glossy lines of his semen. You looked up at him, still holding his cock, sinfully triumphant.

Your devious smirk covered in cum.

“You wicked, dirty woman,” Yoongi breathed in amazement.

His hand was travelling down so you removed yours, already guessing what was coming next. You placed your hands on your thighs, sinking into the softness as Yoongi groaned, wrapping his fingers around his cock, pumping himself slowly to the image of your cum-covered puffy lips, red and white, upper body tilted back so your hard nipples pointed upwards towards him, squeezing your breasts together with your arms while your hands kept your thighs spread, wet pussy exposed to him.

“Fuck,” he hissed, so hard you could see the flashes of veins standing out through his fingers. “You’re too much, too sexy, come closer so I can use that mouth.”

You scooted nearer and Yoongi pushed his cock into your lips, moaning as he watched his orgasm smear down his length and disappear with each centimeter his cock into your tight, hot mouth, your eyes taking in the jerks of his shoulders and slack jaw, forcing you to take him all the way to the base. He was so turned on that you knew he wasn’t going to last as long as he wanted, but there was no stopping him now, already shallowly thrusting. You knew how to make him pause though, tightly tensing your throat muscles around the tip. Yoongi threw his head back, your name a desperate whine.

“Please, shit, I’m so fucking sensitive, fuck…”

Slowly Yoongi’s head rolled back and you took the chance to slide your tongue out, hands coming up to cup his balls, licking them in playful figure-eights with his entire length crammed down your throat, barely able to breathe.

You didn’t care.

Yoongi was in literal heaven.

Swearing, gasping, moaning, enjoying it for a good twenty seconds before fitting his right hand behind your head, tangled in your wet hair.

“Hold me,” he gritted out. “Hold me so I can fuck your face.”

You backed up a little to take a deep lungful of air, placing your hands on his hips. There was so much adrenaline coursing through your veins that you didn’t even notice that your knees were screaming in pain, completely focused on getting your throat ready for Yoongi’s abuse.

Your eyes flickered up to him, giving him the signal.

Yoongi grinned and began to thrust into your mouth. You adjusted your neck a little and Yoongi hissed, the throbbing head of his cock now rubbing against the roof of your mouth with every slide down your throat, rolling his hips into your face. You could tell he wanted to keep it slow, but his body craved the speed and he finally gave in, fucking your face mercilessly, fast and rough, nearly choking you but not quite, and that was the best part, Yoongi always knowing the edge, always knowing how much you could take, chuckling darkly as your moaned around his cock, trying not to dig your nails into his skin.

“It’s okay, do it,” Yoongi nudged, devilish edge to his voice. “Do it. No one is going to look there.”

Eye contact.

You sure?

He ticked a brow.

How many people were going to look at his ass? Eh, he was right.

You sank your nails into his hips and dragged them down, creating red scratches around his crotch.

“Yes, fuck, yes,” Yoongi gasped with your name, urging you for more, you clawing at his ass as he forced himself between your tight lips, marking him up, praying no one was going to ask why his ass looked like a cat’s scratching post, but it was doomed, your cries vibrating his cock, Yoongi losing control, lustful shudder as his cock jolted in your mouth, spilling down your throat. You swallowed greedily, puffing breath around his thick length, sucking a little so you could feel every quiver, his taste strong and salty, so delicious that your pussy pulsated with satisfaction even through it wasn’t being stimulated.

You felt Yoongi caress your wet hair, soft praises floating down to your ears. You licked him delicately, ghosting your tongue around and around the head. He shivered, exhaling hard.

“Such a good girl, taking me so well…”

You felt his cock soften. You did what any sensible human would do and took him all the way in your mouth to bounce his balls with your tongue.

Yoongi chuckled.

“You’re crazy.”

You gave him your gurgled response with his dick still down your throat.

“You’re right, I do love it.” He tapped your cheek. “But the water’s getting cold, so let’s finish this shower and get into bed.”

-

“Yoongi?”

“Hm?”

“What happened to my ripped panties?”

“From last time? Don’t know. Jungkook had them in his pocket.”

You frowned, working product through your wet hair. “I hope he threw them away safely.”

Yoongi looked thoughtful. “Ah, is that what he snuck over to Jimin’s room for?”

“What?”

He shrugged. “It would be a good cover.”

You gawked at him.

Yoongi didn’t elaborate, going back to daintily and dutifully applying his skincare.

-

Get into bed.

This wasn’t exactly what you thought Yoongi meant, but you weren’t mad at it.

“Fuck, that’s so insanely hot…”

You were kneeling on the bed, chin on the pillows, knees spread, hands on your ass cheeks to spread your pussy open so your boyfriend Min Yoongi could watch you flex your wet opening.

At least he gave you time to blow-dry your hair before ordering you around.

For the moment, you were staring at the headboard, keenly concentrating on the exact precision and force needed to open and close with varying degrees. Most of the time, there was no need to be this focused, but Yoongi had asked for a show, so you were going to give him one. You could hear him slowly stroking himself, panting with exertion and awe. The bed sank a little as his weight was added, coming up behind you. Anticipation zipped through your veins, heartbeat spiking.

“A-ah!”

You felt a cold, fine spray on your ass and back. The fuck? Then the scent hit you, sudden citrus mixed with a verdant musk and the base of pine wood. On your skin, it immediately morphed, turning warmer, almost smokier, different than how it smelled on Yoongi. You twisted your head around, giving Yoongi’s smirking face a startled look.

“Did you just spray me with your cologne?”

He tucked his tongue between his neat white teeth. “No.” Which obviously meant yes.

You narrowed your eyes. “You shouldn’t do that. Someone might figure it out.”

Yoongi raised an eyebrow underneath his fluffy black bangs. “I’m sure many people buy and wear my cologne, including women. Can’t keep anything a secret these days.”

There was a twinge of arrogance and wistfulness in his deep voice, but before you could break it down and ask, what about me, Yoongi leaned in and shoved his tongue into your pussy.

“F-fuck, Yoongi!”

His satisfied groan trembled through your nerves, igniting arousal and causing you to clench around his tongue involuntarily. He didn’t have to say it, both of you already thinking it, keep going, but now you were gasping, getting wetter and wetter with the addition of Yoongi’s tongue lazily sliding up and down as your muscles contracted and relaxed, letting him feel your skill and power, his moans vibrating through you from your core. It was already slick and getting slicker, Yoongi’s tongue gracefully sliding through your folds, thrusting into your hole, your juices like honey seeping onto his greedy mouth, so fucking good you didn’t need to control it anymore, it was just happening, and it took everything in you not to shove your ass into his face even though you wanted to, because you didn’t want to make any sudden movements and accidentally hurt him when he had already worked so hard today.

Yoongi chuckled.

“Fuck you,” you hissed, knowing he could see the strain in your arms and the tremble of your hips trying to keep your position as he sucked on your clit.

He removed his mouth and you grumbled in disappointment, cutting yourself off when you heard the distinct rip of a foil packet.

“No, fuck you.”

Yoongi said it as if he was telling someone the time and not about to forcefully plunge his dick right into where his mouth was a second ago.

“Ah, fuck yes, Yoongi…”

He sank right in, stretching you out deliciously, sighing as your wet walls molded around his cock, familiar and wonderful. You finally had the chance to remove your hands from your ass so you could hold yourself up, relieving some of the pressure on your poor knees.

“I’m choosing to ignore your disrespect,” Yoongi purred, placing his hands on your hips and bottoming out, his balls smacking your engorged clit roughly, earning a low hiss from your throat. Your fingers twisted into the sheets, breathing hard as your body adjusted. He was asking you how you wanted it. You clicked your tongue and turned your head back, seeing him watching you closely under his black hair shadowing his dark brown eyes.

“What a nice guy,” you remarked in a cool, defiant tone, borderline bored.

Come on, Yoongi, mess me up.

His lips curved into that devious, open-mouthed smirk you loved so much.

“Mhm.”

He slid out and slapped his crotch into your ass, hard.

“Yes, Yoongi, fuck!”

Your nails sank into your palms and you shoved your fists into the sheets, locking your upper body so you could push back into his rough thrusts, pleased grin on your lips, his perfect cock filling you over and over again, core tensed tight to feel all of him, the thick head forcing its way deep inside slick velvet, the rock-hard length twitching against each ridge, his balls bouncing against your inflamed clit, so full, so good, so intense that it almost hurt.

It wasn’t enough.

Panting hard, chest shuddering, you reached up and planted a hand flat against the headboard and clenched your jaw, bucking back into Yoongi’s crotch. His voice was mind-numbingly deep, full of desire and danger.

“Harder it is, my love.”

You smirked, then gasped as you felt the hot sting of Yoongi’s palm on your ass, the sound reverting against the apartment walls. He didn’t stop, fucking you hard into the bed and slapping your ass as you kept up with his pace, doing half the work for him so he could focus on each sharp spank to make your ass bounce on his cock, the bed screaming for you two to stop, but neither of you noticed, completely focused on chasing wild, feral pleasure, Yoongi growling your name and you moaning at his carnal tone, soaking his skin with thick, sweet-smelling juices, pussy violently massaging his length.

“That’s it,” Yoongi hissed, breathing rapid and shallow, ceasing his slapping of your red ass to seize your hips and fuck you even harder, digging his nails into your skin and marking you with his lust. “Feels so good fucking this perfect body just the way I like.”

Fuck, his voice, taking your heart and setting your world into lustful wildfire, no one like him, nothing like this, making you lose your mind and fuck back against him harder, the roller coaster climbing higher and higher and higher, Yoongi cursing under his breath, and you were so far gone that you almost didn’t pick up his words.

“Shit, Jungkookie would have loved watching you get wrecked by me.”

A low moan ripped from your throat, the thought of Jungkook’s needy voice and expression seeing you get pounded by Yoongi’s full strength, being told to watch and probably not being able to help touching himself, fuck, you wanted it, wanted Jungkook so bad at that very moment, wanted to show him how ruined you were, knowing he would love it, crave it, desire it, fuck, it was too much and you came hard, seeing stars, planets, fuck it, the whole fucking galaxy, fingernails curling into the headboard and whining at the sensitivity, body rolling onto Yoongi’s cock and squeezing it powerfully. Yoongi gasped out your name, grip tightening as he spilled into the condom, his length pulsating and twitching into your walls. You thought that was it, but Yoongi’s fingers snaked down between your legs.

“Oh, fuck, Yoongi, Yoongi, fuck!”

He roughly rubbed your aching clit with two fingers, forcing you to cum again around his cock, moaning loudly with every convulsion of your overstimulated pussy, viscous juices clinging to the insides of your joined thighs, completely defeating the purpose of the fucking shower, but neither of you seemed to remember that, Yoongi too busy using his last ounce of strength to push you to your limit, flicking the sensitive bundle of nerves and vibrating his fingertips against it, your eyes rolling back and spine clattering as another orgasm blasted through you, up your torso and straight to your head, numbing pleasure overtaking everything, arm going slack and forgetting to hold yourself up, hand slipping on the headboard, fatigue finally having its way.

Yoongi was quick to slide his hand up your belly and keep you up, wiry strength of his right arm balancing between your breasts to prevent you from falling into the bed.

“Holy f-fuck…”

The words sounded far away even though they were yours, the resounding beat in your ears being your pulse trying to catch up, nerves tingling all over, acutely aware of the tiny flinches gliding across your skin, aftershocks of a particularly explosive orgasm. Your pussy was still throbbing around Yoongi’s spent cock, locking him in your embrace. You planted your hands onto the bed and lifted yourself up rather shakily, taking the burden off Yoongi’s arm.

“You okay?” Yoongi asked, caressing the underside of your breast lightly.

You had the energy to raise one hand and give him a thumbs-up.

He rapped your ribcage. “Stop that.”

You chuckled, finding your voice a bit hoarse. “Why? You always do it in pictures.”

You heard Yoongi mumble disapprovingly behind you. “Is that why you do that? To make fun of me when I take photos?”

“Almost eight years of being an idol and you still don’t know what to do with your hands in pictures,” you teased.

He pinched your nipples roughly and you yelped.

“I know what to do with my hands around you,” Yoongi growled, rubbing them between his fingertips, your moans radiating off his walls. “And that’s what matters.”

-

interlude 20210419 drabble — “This is not allowed, you two.”

part vi “Shh, you’re not allowed to tell anyone.”

--

masterpost

[willowbleedsonpaper]

Winter In The Shade V

Part V

Sirius Black x Ravenclaw Reader

W.C. : 2913

Requested by @amourtentiaa : It is Sirius’ fifth year at Hogwarts, the same year he ran away from home and to the Potter’s. Soon, he discovers the unfamiliar sight of his brother Regulus smiling and looking truly happy, next to him a Ravenclaw girl who immediately captures his interest. What will happen when the Black family gets involved in their sons lives and the ones they hold close to their hearts?

Warnings: None (?)

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Masterlist | Series Masterlist

“Anything I need to know for the party?” you asked Regulus as you two entered the charms classroom, both sitting in your usual spot while waiting for the rest of the students and the professor to arrive “You know, colors?” you said, raising an eyebrow “Do you want to get matching outfits? Should I be ready to leave at midnight before our carriage turns back into a pumpkin?”

“Pumpkin?” he asked, confused.

“Nevermind.” you waved a dismissive hand in his way, remembering he didn’t even know what a T.V. was. “What I mean is, this party's going to be the last time we see each other for weeks! We need to make it special so I can go back to the memories when the bitter reality hits me and you're not there.” you finished, letting out a dramatic sigh as you placed the back of your hand over your forehead.

Regulus looked at you with concern “Are you being dramatic or serious? I can’t tell.” he asked.

You narrowed your eyes, letting your performance fall as you flew a piece of hair out of your face “You’re not fun.” you grunted “And just so you know, I am being serious.”

“It’s only two weeks, Y/N.” he reminded you “You’ll survive.” He was met with silence, turning to look at you and the angry pout of your lips. He let out a long sigh “You have lived most of your life without me, what’s two weeks?” he asked.

You scoffed, letting your jaw fall as you crossed your arms “I don’t know, you cold hearted man. Maybe two weeks of boredom?” you said, watching as his eyes turned into one of disbelief “Torture.” you added “What am I supposed to do with two weeks by myself?” you asked him.

“What did you do before we became friends?”

Your brain froze at his question, both mind and eyes blank as you stared into the void. Regulus calling your name brought you back and your face turned sour as your eyes focused back on the raven haired boy before you “You are no good influence.” you mumbled sourly.

“Pardon?” he asked, his eyebrows scrunched together as he placed his book down, his attention completely on you.

“Since that day you hit me in the head my entire life revolves around you!” you whispered yelled, watching his shoulders relax as he tilted his head “And don’t try to deny it, we both know it's true.” you said, starting to pick up your things and shoving them inside your bag.

“What are you doing?” he asked, never trying to stop you and instead handing you the things you had placed on his side of the table.

“I, “ you said, placing a hand in your chest as you stood from your chair, looking down at him “am taking space from you. You have consumed my entire life.” you hissed, the urges to laugh coming through as a small smile broke through you every now and then.

Regulus watched you walk a few feet from where he sat, patiently staring at the back of your head with a small smirk “Y/N.” he called, his voice steady and calm “We have class, remember?”

You stopped, sharply turning to face him again from the front of the classroom. You purse your lips, glancing between the door and Regulus. You gave up in the end, letting your shoulders fall and dragging your bag all over the floor until you reached your chair again, falling into it.

Regulus bent down from his chair to pick up your bag from the ground, placing it on the table as he turned to look at you with a small smile “If it makes you feel better,” he said, breaking the silence that had fallen in the classroom “You have consumed my entire life as well.”

Your face broke from the bothered look you had put on, swinging your head so you would be looking at Regulus “It does,” you smiled “We’re attached to the hip.” you said, moving your chair so you would be next to him.

“That’s why we are spending the winter break separate.” he told you, his arm resting around your shoulder “So we don’t get bored and before we end up killing one another.”

You chuckled lightly “The thought had crossed my mind.” you admitted, resting your head on his shoulder “That doesn’t mean it won't be difficult to be away from you. You’re my best friend.”

A silence fell all over the room and took you into it, pondering over the fact that a couple of months before you didn’t even acknowledge the existence of the other. You thought fate was funny in that way, friends you made on the first days after starting your life at Hogwarts were now strangers that glared at you from the opposite side of the Great Hall at dinner, people you knew your entire life now strangers you barely knew how to start a conversation with, even greeting them represented a challenge; friends you thought would be there for the rest of your life were now gone.

You had met Regulus months ago and you couldn’t imagine your life without him, and that scared you. The feeling of not being friends with him, of not knowing if you would ever see him again broke your heart and filled you with dread. Sure, you were spending two weeks apart but you knew you would see him once the holidays were over. The thought of losing someone had never made your stomach twist and your heart race quick the way it did when you thought about losing Regulus.

“I think that’s the beauty of us.” he said, capturing your attention immediately “Time is not the core of our friendship, it’s something else.”

You smiled, relaxing against his side as you hummed “Like what?” you asked.

“I don’t know.” he answered honestly “But I will like to find out.”

“Hmm, me too.” you sighed, another peaceful silence taking over the room “Promise me you’ll write.” you said out of the blue, his chuckle vibrating all over his body and through yours.

“You’ve made me promise I’ll write a thousand times now.”

“I don’t mean just these two weeks. Anytime you need something, that we’re away from each other, or if you just saw someone falling and it reminded you of me just… just promise me you’ll write.”

With his heart skipping a beat, Regulus couldn’t believe the words that had just left your mouth, his gaze falling at the top of your head. Never would have he thought you would be scared of him leaving, that you would be scared of losing him as he is of losing you. In his eyes you were so confident, so sure of what you do every single time, you had lost all our friends and because of what. Because of you, he reminded himself.

“I promise.”

Your mouth was left with a bittersweet taste after charms class. It wasn’t every day that you and Regulus got that deep in your conversations. Usually, the matters you talked about were more sarcastic and almost on the humorous side of the aspects of your life; school work and competitions was common as you spent at least an hour of your day glued to the chairs from the library. Deep emotional conversation was just unknown. You knew Regulus didn’t like it, and yet he seemed to be the most comfortable out of the two of you. He might be your best friend but Rowena Ravenclaw knows, you’ll never fully understand him. You’ve made peace with that.

It was the older Black brother you had trouble with.

Charm class was the last one for the day, Regulus having an extra class he worked on late at night that left you with hours for you to exist by yourself. Something you silently thanked as you walked outside the Great Hall after dinner.

Standing on your toes, you moved your gaze over the sea of heads that flowed from the Great Hall, all the chat and laughter making you snap your head in every direction that sounded slightly similar to the one you searched for. The green and yellow of the robes stood out the most, your eyebrows scrunched together as you lowered yourself to your usual height. You started to move, following the students as you held tightly onto your bag. “Where are all the Gryffindors?” you asked inside your head. And that’s when you saw it, the flaring red from Gryffindor robes as they all ran and cheered down the hills. The Quidditch pitch.

*******

Sirius and James had led the Quidditch team to the pitch, their loud cheers and whistles enough to draw the attention of the entire team and drag them down to an unplanned practice. Although they referred to it as a small game to celebrate Friday night, Sirius knew James wanted them to practice.

They were all in the air as soon as they crossed the lines drawn on the grass to mark the limits of the pitch, bags and school work scattered in the ground without a care. Peter and Remus sat on the grass, chatting calmly as they watched their friends play.

“Hey, Remus.” Peter asked, getting a hum from Remus as he never broke his gaze from the Quaffle, “Do you think Sirius likes Y/N?” he asked with the shake of his head.

Remus let out a laugh, head thrown back in the air as he got a few looks from the players “Was it ever a question?” he asked back, turning to Peter.

Peter laughed, the small chuckle dying down as he stared at one single point in the distance “Yeah, that wasn’t really my question.” he said, their hair flying to their faces as the two seekers rushed in front of them after the snitch. They blinked back, following the game without actually paying attention. “Do you think Y/N likes Sirius?”

Remus’ attention broke from the Quaffle, his look thoughtful as he considered it. What were the chances Y/N liked Sirius? Not many, he thought to himself. “I don’t know.” he answered “If I had to guess I’d say no.”

Peter smiled, his eyes scanning the air as he smirked in James’ direction, the act capturing the Captains’ attention as he followed Peter’s gaze “I think she does.” Peter said confidently, “I actually think she was in the crowd tonight.”

“Right.” Remus scoffed.

“Want to bet?” Peter asked, an eyebrow raised in his direction as he extended his hand towards him.

Remus nodded, clasping his hand in Peter’s as he shook it.

The match lasted a good two hours. Both sides of the Gryffindor team started the game as a playful practice that now had them at each other's throats like the red in their robes had turned green at some point during the game. James yells and instructions could be heard over the commotion of the crowd and the team, the tension palpable in the air as the players flew in the air at top speed. They were flashes of red in the eyes of the crowd. In the end, James’ side of the team won. The entire team flying down from their brooms with grins plastered in their faces.

Peter had jumped to his feet as he saw Sirius lowered himself until he walked on the grass, the smirk permanent on his lips as he walked to greet his friends. “Great game.” Peter said, giving a subtle nod in James’ direction as the smirk he had was mirrored in James’ face. Peter patted Sirius in the back as he was in proximity, his hand holding his shoulder as he leaned on his side “Pulling you best moves for the ladies, huh?” he asked.

Sirius laughed, nodding his head when James walked next to them, nudging Peter’s side knowingly.

“Or should we say Lady?” James asked, wiggling his eyebrows in his direction.

Sirius' face fell, his lips in a line as he recognized the glint in his friends eyes. They didn’t.

“Sirius.” he heard you say, his confused look erased in the blink of an eye as he put on his best smile, turning on his place.

“Hello, darling.” he said, his tone flirtatious.

You smiled briefly, your eyes wandering over all his friends standing too close behind him with expectant eyes. “Hi.” you said to them, all three immediately a mumbling mess as they turned and pretended to fall into deep conversation. You almost wanted to laugh, but you focused on the task at hand “Can I talk to you?” you asked, looking straight into his eyes.

His smile fell momentarily, nodding his head as he made a sign to his friends, who only smiled tightly.

“You little shit.” He heard Remus hiss, making Sirius turn to see James holding Remus back, a smug looking Peter running as fast as he could once Remus got free.

He shook his head with a laugh before he focused on you, following you to a more quiet place, the buzz from the people left behind as you turned to face him “Are you alright?” he asked as soon as you stopped walking.

You let out a breathy laugh “I’m okay.” you assured him, your eyes remaining on him for a second before you recovered your voice, “I wanted to talk about this.” you turned to your side, rummaging through your bag until your fingers felt the soft material of the box, pulling it out and holding it for him to see “You can’t do this.”

He had a confused look on his face, the smirk he usually wore coming back as quickly as it fell “You’re giving me back a rose?” he asked.

You blushed, suddenly feeling stupid for wanting to give it back “No… I mean, yes!” you mumbled, cheeks darker by the second “It’s not the rose, it’s the act.”

“You want me to take back...my actions?”

“I need you to stop.”

He nodded in thought, leaning against one of the wooden posts. He held himself back from teasing you and the red in your cheeks, or the fact that you said need. The only thought in his mind was that you didn’t actually want him to stop.

“So that means you won’t be going to the party with me?” he asked, a fake pout in his lips.

“I have a date.” you said, crossing your arms over our chest.

“You do?” he asked, his back straight as he mirrored your stance.

You ignored his reaction, taking a confident step towards him. You reached for his hand, holding his palm out to you as you placed the box there. “Please, just stop.” you whispered, the volume of your voice enough for him to listen as you stood so close to one another.

He closed his hand over the box, his free hand taking a hold of your wrist as he held it back to his chest, the movement making you stand closer to him “Do you want me to stop?” he asked, his eyes looking directly at yours before his gaze roamed all over your face expectantly.

Your heart started to beat hard inside your chest, your feet rooted to the floor as you stood frozen under his eyes. He tilted his head, his thumb moving over the skin in your arm “Do you?” he repeated.

His skin felt warm against yours, the feeling sending electricity all over your arm before it woke you. You shook your hand out of his grasp, taking a step back with wide eyes “That is what I’m asking you. Yes.” you said shakily, holding your arm against your chest.

He tried to suppress his smile, he really tried but in the end he broke in a grin. “I’ll stop.” he stated, looking down to his palm before he connected your eyes once more “I only ask for one thing.”

He didn’t expect you to stay and listen, your jaw clenched as your look turned into a glare “What is it?” you asked harshly.

“Save me one dance.” he said, his voice soft and rid of any teasing or amusement.

“Right.” you scoffed, turning your face to the sky in disbelief. But you were met with silence, making your arms fall at your sides with a questioning look “You’re serious.” you asked, watching the glint in his eyes light up as he smiled. He opened his mouth to talk but you cut him off, lifting one finger right in front of his face “I swear to Godric Gryffindor if you make a joke you’ll be dancing by yourself.” you said harshly.

He bit the insides of his cheeks, letting himself feel the flutter of his heart at the simple gesture of you stopping his joke, like you knew him already. “Do you accept my offer, then?” he asked, offering his hand.

Your eyes lowered to his hand doubtfully “Do you promise you’ll stop?”

He nodded his head softly and you sighed, taking his hand.

What you didn’t expect was the squeak that left your lips as he took hold of your hand, holding it to his lips as he placed a short kiss over your knuckles.

“I’ll see you then, Y/n.” he told you, turning on his place as he went back to the pitch.

“See you.” you mumbled to yourself, staring at him and cursing him for the hurricane of thoughts left in his place. That didn’t go as planned.

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Winter in the Shade

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[fruitcoops]

Hi!! This is based on a reddit post I saw where a woman found her husband's "secret stash" of all the love letters/cards/post it notes she had written for him through all the years that he kept!! (🥺) and I would love to see it rewritten with Coops, if you want! Thanks for all the stories you write. I v much appreciate u

Okay so I looked up the story you’re talking about, and that’s the cutest thing I’ve ever read. My god. I’ve mentioned that Remus leaves notes in a  couple of past fics, so this was just a perfect ask! Coops credit goes to @lumosinlove, but Hattie is mine!

For the anon who watched a sad video in their class: Have some coops fluff to dull the pain!

Remus sneezed as he shifted the nightstand a smidge to the left, exposing a dozen dust bunnies that were starting to look more like dust rhinos. He pulled and rocked and pushed, but the small table refused to move far enough for the vacuum cleaner head to fit through. “We need to clean this more often,” he muttered, opening the top drawer to unload some of the weight from inside.

Three books, a handful of pens, a spare toothbrush, a waterbottle…Remus shook his head at Sirius’ collection of oddities, smiling to himself. The nightstand moved a bit more when he wiggled it, but not quite to the point he needed it.

The lower drawer was bigger, and scattered with whatever Sirius had left in his pockets at the end of the day—Remus found three different packs of gum and laughed a little at the knickknacks they hadn’t been able to fit on their dresser. Part of him wanted to put everything back and ask Sirius to go through his own shit, but it was kind of neat finding souvenirs of their everyday lives.

Remus paused when his hand hit something solid and smooth before the back of the drawer. He felt around blindly, then carefully pulled it out. A box? His curiosity got the better of him before he could debate the nosiness of opening it; he lifted the shiny lid, tingling with anticipation, then frowned.

Paper. The box was full of slips of paper.

Lined, colorful, plain white, even some of his old PT stationary—everything Remus could think of, including a few cards at the bottom. He took a piece off the top and unfolded it, then nearly dropped the whole container when his own handwriting stared back at him.

Left @ 8 to see Leo. You were still out cold—sorry for wearing you out (not😊). Will be back around 4-ish. Love you! <3

Remus blinked at the note in shock for a moment. He remembered writing it on the old bookmark the morning after they went to the trampoline place and spent five hours jumping until they could hardly feel their legs. “But this was last summer,” he said aloud. “I—what?”

He poured a few more into his palm and set the box down gently, then sat back against the side of the bed and began to read.

Crock pot turned on. Pls remind me to take it off @ 5 pm. If I’m not home, pls unplug it @ 4:45 was written on a corner of printer paper.

Happy birthday baby! You are wonderful in every way and I love you so much <3 Here’s to hoping all your wishes come true! Love, Re, on a birthday card he had picked out because the dog on the front looked just like Hattie.

An entire conversation, complete with doodles and sarcastic comments from both of them, written on a piece of lined paper from one of the many conferences they had attended together.

-          Eggs

-          Chicken

-          Bread

-          Sweet tarts (for my sweetheart)

-          Oreos (there’s a sale this week, coupon under note 😊)

-          Pasta (twirly kind)

Love you <3

in his loopy half-cursive, with the shape of a fridge magnet still indented at the top near the crumpled edges from being shoved in Sirius’ back pocket.

“Well, shit,” Remus said, sniffling despite the fact that no tears dampened his eyes. “That’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.”

Dozens, if not hundreds, of little papers stared up at him from the open box and he blew out a slow breath, pressing a kiss to the one in his hand. He hadn’t realized just how many notes he had written over the course of their time together, and he skimmed his fingers through the rest before carefully putting the ones he had taken back in and closing the lid. The box fit into the drawer with ease and he leaned his head on the wood for a second to slow his heartbeat.

The nightstand moved the last few inches once the rest of the clutter was strewn across the floor and Remus quickly vacuumed the dust elephants before dumping it all back in. As much as he itched to throw some of it out—the empty wrappers and pen caps didn’t seem to have a use—he was afraid he’d accidentally toss an important memento. Hell, the note box had looked like a pile of confetti at first.

The front door opened just as he began lugging the vacuum cleaner downstairs. “Re, I’m home!” Sirius called, then broke into a bright smile when Remus appeared in the stairwell. He was soaked in sweat and Hattie was breathing hard; she collapsed on her bed with a dramatic groan after drinking a few mouthfuls of water, too exhausted to do more than thump her tail on the floor.

“Heya, handsome.” Remus’ heart picked up its pace again. You kept all my notes, it shrieked happily, doing its best to break right out of his chest with affection.

Sirius tilted his head when he saw the vacuum and the dust on Remus’ pants. “Were you cleaning?”

“Yeah, I’ve been meaning to get under the bed for a while, and I didn’t have anything else to do.” He shrugged. “You’re welcome to do it next time, if you like.”

“I’ll do the dishes to make up for it,” Sirius said as he leaned in for a kiss.

“No, you won’t.”

“No, I won’t. But I will dust the bookshelves and wipe down the kitchen.” They both laughed and Remus stood on his tiptoes for a second kiss, sliding his teeth over Sirius’ lower lip and drawing a noise of surprise from his mouth. “Hi. What was that for?”

“Love you.”

Sirius glanced down at himself, then raised an eyebrow. “…because I walked the dog? Or is it the sweat?”

“It’s definitely not the sweat,” Remus snorted, smacking his rear as he passed. “You can take yourself right upstairs with that. Where did you even go?”

“Around the neighborhood, then to the park. She grabbed my hat and we played keepaway for a bit.”

Remus hummed as he bent down to plug the vacuum into the wall socket. “How the hell did she—oh, ew!”

“What?” Sirius asked with mock-innocence as he lifted Remus higher off the ground and tucked his gross, sweaty face into his neck. “You don’t want cuddles?”

“You are literally dripping! Get the fuck off,” Remus said around his laughter, swatting at his shoulder when Sirius started swinging him back and forth slightly. “Sweat monster.”

“C’est vrai.” Sirius kissed the hinge of his jaw and set him down, then headed toward the stairs with a final grin. “Thank you for cleaning, mon loup.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Remus said, rolling his eyes playfully. A soon as he heard the bathroom door close, he let go of the vacuum and did a happy dance in the kitchen, much to Hattie’s amusement. He would have to remember to leave notes more often.

[awanderingdeal]

Hello there! Would you please consider writing a fic where maybe Leo or a fan wears a dress or paints his nails or something else feminine and gets bullied online so the entire team then starts wearing dresses out in retaliation? I think Leo is the perfect example of flipping the V to normative gender ideals

Hi! Thank you for this ask. I hope you don't mind, but I kind of took this as inspiration and ran with it. I used Finn just because it fits my own personal headcanons that he would be the one that would be a bit more adventurous fashion wise, although I definitely agree Leo is the nail painter in that relationship! I hope you like it!

Apologies for the excessive use of italics in this fic!

CW: food mentions, some swearing, implied Instagram bullying and a child with very mild illness (hay fever).

Rating: T

Let me know if you think I missed anything or need to change the rating.

All characters in this fic are from Sweater Weather universe and belong to @lumosinlove

“Are you going to take that dress off?” June asked, blowing on the undercoat she’d just applied to her nails. Finn’s eyes dropped from the TV screen to the black fabric draping over his body. He brushed his fingers over the material, enjoying the texture of the sheer polka dots that decorated the dress. From afar, they were difficult to see, but at this distance they shined. His own little secret.

“No,” Finn replied, the word slipping from his mouth felt foreign, as if he hadn’t chosen to say it. “ Is that okay?”

“It’s generally considered polite to ask before you borrow people’s clothing, but sure, why not?” A loud cheer erupted from the TV notifying Finn the score on the basketball game he had been watching had changed. He desperately wanted to check it, but he continued to hold June’s gaze. “The Knicks,” June offered and Finn breathed a sigh of relief. “Are you going to wear it out later?” She didn’t wait for his reply, proffering two bottles of polish for Finn’s perusal, a redcurrant and a mauve.

“The red,” Finn decided after a beat. “No, I think I’ll get changed before we go to the theatre.”

“Alright then,” June hummed, glancing at her cell. “Logan is trying to call you, by the way.”

“Yes, my cell, I know exactly where that is,” Finn muttered to himself, stabbing at the remote to pause the TV. It took a few minutes of searching, the device hidden between the folds of the bean bag he was lounging on, but eventually Logan’s face was filling all 6.1 inches of the screen. “Lo!”

“Hey.”

Finn loved the greeting on Logan’s tongue, one of those that he never seemed to be able to stop his accent dripping through. Finn thought perhaps the sentiment was painted on his face, Logan peering at him curiously through the lens. “Isn’t that June’s dress?”

The dress. Finn had forgotten all about it. “Yes.”

He hadn’t meant for the reply to be said with such abruptness, but it felt good, all the tension coiling in his chest being released in the word.

Logan’s expression was challenging, similar to that June had given him earlier. “I was just going to say you look better in it.”

“Oh.”

June unfurled her legs from beneath her, throwing herself into view of the screen, her left hand held awkwardly in front of her. “I’m right here, Tremblay!”

***

“Love, you need to get out of the kitchen. You’re being very distracting.”

Finn frowned at Leo’s statement. “I’m not doing anything?” And for once, he wasn’t. He wasn’t trying to guess the weight of irrelevant objects. He wasn’t playing with the stray bits of dough Leo had left aside for decoration. He wasn’t even relaying facts about his current favourite interest. Finn was just watching.

Sometimes he liked to do that. He liked seeing Leo’s long fingers curled around the handle of the knife, his movements fluid and confident, his expression soft with quiet concentration. Occasionally, he’d cock his head, humming contemplatively and Finn could take the opportunity to offer his taste buds.

“It’s not a you problem, it’s a me problem,” Leo chuckled, setting the knife down on the chopping board. “I keep looking up and you’re just -” Finn followed Leo’s gaze as it wandered down to the exposed skin between Finn’s t-shirt and his skirt. “- I’m trying to meal prep and it’s going to take all week at this rate.”

The t-shirt had belonged to Logan, an old Harvard hockey throwback that had managed to make it through several wardrobe purges, so, whilst it was wide enough for Finn, the length was awkward. He hadn’t really considered his boyfriend’s reactions as he’d cut the item to fall several inches above his belly button, the crop looking far more purposeful than it previously had.

“Oh this old thing, I just threw it on,” Finn smirked, as he pushed off the counter he'd been leaning on. He rounded the island, stealing a carrot as he passed, until he planted himself in front of Leo. "Do you want help? It'd be quicker?"

"Now we both know neither of those things are true." Leo raised a critical eyebrow, his laughter smooth and sweet. He turned to face Finn more fully, his hand reaching to pass the forest green material of Finn's skirt through his fingers. "I like this colour on you."

"It has pockets! I totally get why Lily's always shouting about them. They're very convenient." Finn shoved his hands in the well-concealed pocket, pulling his cell from its depths. "See."

"Nice," Leo said, his smile making the edges of his face crinkle. "How about you let me finish up here and then we can find Lo and get his opinion on this outfit?"

"Fine," Finn groaned, resisting the temptation to draw Leo in a hug, and perhaps something more. "I'm gonna go and look over that report the accountant sent over. Do you want me to check yours over too?"

"Please," Leo nodded, his smile growing wider. "You're the best."

"You feed me, I make sure you don't get arrested, that's what relationships are all about, right?"

"Right," Leo ran his fingers over the skirt one last time and stepped back to put some space between them. Finn turned to leave, barely getting a few paces in before Leo called him. "Wait!"

"Yeah?"

"Just one kiss now would be okay."

Finn shook his head, letting Leo draw him back in with a chuckle. Leo's hands, always warm, settled on Finn's waist and he leaned down to press their lips together.

***

Finn winced as Aveline sneezed again, the forceful burst of air covering his sweater in droplets. He felt sorry for her; she was struggling with a bout of hay fever that was making her red-nosed and irritable, but the sweater was one of Finn’s favourites. A vintage, hand knitted blue thing he’d found in a thrift store in Cambridge for an absolute steal. Back then, it had been the scene of Bambi and his friends on it that had grasped Finn’s attention, however, he’d come to love it for its perfect fit and the fact it never failed to spark a conversation.

“Harzy, thank you. You’re a lifesaver.” Finn tried not to let his relief show too much seeing Kris’ approach, his arms outstretched to gather his daughter. “I can’t even put her down to go to the bathroom at the moment without her screaming.”

Finn chuckled, holding a wriggling Aveline tighter to stop her launching herself before her father was close enough. “Papa!” she cried, the exclamation melded neatly into a large yawn.

“Come, mon chou,” Kris soothed, letting Aveline bury her face into the crook of his neck and playing a gentle pattern with his fingers over her back. “Let’s go and see if Vroom-vroom has any magic up his sleeve, ey? He always knows what to do.”

“Vroom-vroom?” Finn whispered the question.

“Sergei,” Kris explained with a gleeful smile despite the tiredness etched into his face. He shifted Aveline into a more comfortable position. “Thanks again for holding her.”

“Anytime.”

Finn had barely been alone in the Dumais’ second living room for a minute when Katie came crashing in. He wondered briefly if he should redirect her back to the other room where everybody was gathered, the thought quickly interrupted by Katie tugging on the hem of his skirt. “Can you spin again? Please?”

Unable to resist her large doe eyes, Finn twirled for her, his skirt swirling and billowing around him until he began to go dizzy.

“Encore! Encore!”

Finn didn’t need Logan around to translate that for him, he’d seen enough Broadway shows to understand the request.

“No more, Katie Belle. I’m going to puke,” Finn laughed, lifting Katie into his arms. “You’re growing too quickly! I swear you were only this big the last time I saw you,” he teased, spreading the thumb and index finger of his free hand a few inches apart.

“I’ll be as tall as you soon!” Katie giggled, patting Finn on his head.

“Then you can carry me,” Finn teased. He was just reaching to bop Katie on the nose when the unmistakable sound of a camera shutter closing grabbed his attention.

“Logan!” Katie gasped, struggling in Finn’s arms for a second like little Aveline had done. “Put me down.”

Finn obliged, watching Katie run toward Logan with a fond smile.

“Did you fix it?” she asked, her voice hopeful.

“Ouais,” Logan nodded, “I gave it back to Maja.”

“Merci, merci, merci!” Katie wrapped her arms around Logan’s hips in a hug before running off, presumably to find Maja.

Finn crossed the room, opening his arms for Logan to walk into. He rested his chin on Logan’s head, breathing in the familiar smell of his shampoo. “What were you up to?”

“Just taking a photo of two of my favourite people,” Logan mumbled into Finn’s chest.

“Can I see?”

“Oui, it’s very cute. ” Logan stepped back, pulling the photo up onto the screen. It was a nice one, both Finn and Katie’s head tipped back slightly with bright laughter. Finn tracked down the photo, Katie’s legs clinging to his waist where the faux leather skirt started. He breathed in, filling his lungs with air and then expelling it quickly.

“Post it.”

Logan looked at him, eyes wide. “Are you sure?”

“Not really, but I’m fed up with changing my clothes all the time and I’m surprised I haven’t been papped anyway. I’d rather do this on my own terms. It’s a fucking skirt, it shouldn’t be a big deal.”

“Tell me to do it again,” Logan reached out a hand, squeezing gently as Finn took it.

“Post it.”

***

“Stop reading,” Leo sighed, plucking Finn’s cell from his hand.

Finn matched his sigh, burying his head into his hands. He didn’t need to look at the screen anyway, the words burned into his eyes. How anybody had looked at a photo of two people, one of whom was a child, laughing and had churned out hatred was mystifying to him. Finn had been expecting that though, he’d been around long enough to know there were some assholes out there. When he’d replied to one of the nicer ones he hadn’t really considered how he would feel about that going viral. About becoming the face of something he hadn’t really asked for.

Roaringlion17: Harzy! This fit is spectacular, I love the skirt <3 I just wanted to ask if you are trans and what pronouns you would like us to use?

OfficialFOHara: @roaringlion17 Thank you! He/him pronouns are great! I’m not trans. I just think it’s dumb that boys can’t wear skirts. Or dresses for that matter. I like clothes, not boxes.

The reply had now been featured on every gossip column possible and was beginning to filter into more esteemed news too. One of them had even called him, the face of a revolution, which had made Finn cringe. He supposed it was better than the hateful slurs his PR team were battling to keep off the photo.

“Hey,” Logan took the seat next to Finn where he’d slumped himself at the dining table. “Look at me.” Finn lifted his head, meeting Logan’s eyes, the deep green something he wanted to get lost in right now. He thought Logan was going to ask for the thousandth time if Finn wanted him to delete it, but all he got was the fierce, determined gaze Logan sported on the ice. “This is going to pass. Tomorrow, somebody will cheat on somebody and you will be old news. Do you want to see something?”

Finn nodded. He didn’t know what he was consenting to, but he trusted Logan to make it something that would make him smile. Leo dragged another of the chairs around to sit on Finn’s left hand side, setting his confiscated cell in front of him, the Instagram app open to Thomas’ profile. Logan leaned forward, tapping on the latest photo.

Thomas’ smile was wide as he sat on a window sill, kicking out the long zebra print skirt cloaking his legs. The caption underneath read ‘You’re just jealous that I wear it better than you! #boyswearskirtstoo’

“That’s -”

“Wait a second,” Logan reached for the phone again, setting it down with a picture of James’ visible. He was wearing an ochre coloured corduroy skirt that clearly belonged to Lily, the fabric straining on thighs. I’m feeling myself in this, tbh. Please hold whilst I order one in my size #boys wearskirtstoo.

Finn snorted, the sound wet with the tears he was struggling to hold back.

The hashtags kept coming.

Cap and Loops in their respective jersey’s tucked into pleated skirts. These Lions know fashion is not gendered #boyswearskirtstoo

Ollie in a shimmering gold knee length piece. Shine bright! #boyswearskirtstoo

Nado, Kuny, Smitty and Kane, arms slung around one another's shoulders, all wearing varying shades of pink. On Wednesdays, we wear pink #boyswearskirtstoo. Finn would bet good money that Kuny was behind that caption.

Dumo, Sergei and their wives, alongside their troupe of children, each one of them wearing a different coloured tutu. Dumo had opted to just include the hashtag, or rather his social media team had, because the man himself most definitely did not know how to upload the photo.

Kasey and Natalie looked effortlessly cool dressed in white tennis skirts and floral bomber jackets. I’m not sure what all the fuss is about? #boyswearskirtstoo

Alex was wearing a very similar black skirt to Finn's in his photo. Who wore it better? #boyswearskirtstoo #thatsmylittlebrother

“He’s an idiot, but I love him,” Finn laughed wetly.

“There’s more,” Logan smirked as he tapped at the screen again, almost brimming with an excited energy. He placed the cell back down, leaving his hand to block the next photo a little longer. Finn grabbed the device as soon as Logan revealed the image.

It was perfect.

Leo and Logan lounged on the sofa, a little further apart than they would normally sit. Leo clutching his favourite mug and Logan with sketchpad in hand. They both looked easy in their outfits, as if the skirts were a part of them. Leo’s was long, hitting just above his ankle, a navy lining coated in a tulle that was embellished with celestial bodies. Logan was looking at the camera, his eyes just visible under the brim of his cap. His skirt was shorter, the denim flaring over his thick thighs. In this house we respect people’s right to wear whatever the fuck they want #boyswearskirtstoo

Finn stopped trying to fight the tears, letting the moisture well in his eyes. “Thank you,” he choked out, pushing himself from his chair. Leo and Logan had their arms around him before he could ask. “Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you.” He couldn’t seem to make the words stop, his body shaking with sobs, his boyfriend’s arms remaining sure around him until Finn wiped at his face and muttered an apology. “Sorry.”

“You have nothing to apologise for.” Leo swept his thumb over Finn’s cheek, wiping away a stray tear. “What can we do? What do you need?”

Finn let out a heavy breath, leaning into Logan’s hold. “I think I want to send a thank you to the group chat and then snacks and cuddles? I can deal with the world tomorrow.”

“Okay then, snacks and cuddles. We deal with the world tomorrow.”

[thatesqcrush]

Voire Dire, Pt. 3

Rafael Barba x Reader. Episode references: 22x4 “Sightless in a Savage Land.” CW: NSFW - smut (oral, male & female; p in v sex). 

AN: Here it is, the final chapter. I hope to revisit them in the future. 

AN2: For Valentine’s Bingo, using “Love Me Like You Do” by Ellie Goulding & Blue Jeans by Lana del Rey (lyrics denoted in bold).

WC: 4,654

***

When you and Rafael finally made good on that raincheck, two weeks had flown by. You exchanged various text messages - some purely innocent, others downright filthy, and others, more pragmatic - such as the age discrepancy (it was reassuring to Rafael that you really did not have a problem with it), sexual history and what forms of protection you each used. While you loved your job, it did have a high percentage rate of cock-blocking you. Relationships were hard - most partners did not adjust well to your schedule - and the ones that did, did not understand the horrors that you saw and prosecuted. Of course, that was never an issue with Rafael, having been in the seat you were in years prior. 

You managed to secure a rare day off and you jumped on the chance for another date with Rafael. The weather that day called for some on and off snow showers, but nothing out of the ordinary. When your buzzer rang, you gave yourself a once over in the mirror in the bedroom. You wore a speckled oatmeal sweater dress which hit your knees and brown knee boots. You made sure your makeup was perfect and then hit the button to allow Rafael in. 

The date seemed simple enough: drinks at Huckleberry Bar, known for their craft cocktails and small plates, followed by dinner at Lighthouse, a restaurant offering New American fare as well as a raw bar. 

“Rafael, you grew back the beard!” You exclaimed as you let him in. 

Rafael let out a chuckle. “Hello Y/N. Long time no see.” He was carrying a bouquet of hot pink double tulips. “For you.”

You smiled and took the flowers, before pressing a kiss to his lips - instantly your mind went to a filthy place as you wondered how that beard would feel in other places. “Thank you.” You murmured. “I’ll go put these in water. Make yourself comfortable.”

You disappeared into the kitchen as Rafael made his way through your apartment. You lived on the second floor of a walk-up in a surprisingly quiet neighborhood lined with trees. The apartment featured wood flooring throughout and a charcoal leather couch which sat across a mounted television. A single window occupied the living room. In wall shelving hosted a variety of books and nick-nacks, which showed off your personality. A framed pennant hung by the television, which showcased your law school. If Rafael had journeyed to your bedroom, he would have found that it overlooked an open courtyard.

“Your place is lovely.” Rafael called out. He heard the sound of a faucet being turned on. He hesitated on taking off his coat - made no sense since you would both be out soon enough. 

You came back out, now carrying a vase and you set the flowers on your coffee table. “Thank you again; they’re lovely. What time is the reservation again?”

Rafael checked the time. “Twenty minutes. Why do you ask?”

You approached him and tugged on the collar of his peacoat, drawing him down. “So I can do this.” You pressed your lips against his, kissing him. Rafael wrapped one arm around you, his other hand moving behind your head. He gently tilted your head so that he could deepen the kiss. He pressed his tongue against the seam of your lips and you parted your lips, allowing his tongue to slide in.You wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing up against him. You allowed yourself to get swept away in the heat of the moment, wanting nothing to drag him back to your bedroom. Rafael broke the kiss, leaving you gasping, which then turned into a moan as he sucked a mark into a very sensitive spot along the slope of your neck. 

Reluctantly, Rafael removed his mouth from your neck and peppered kisses back up your neck, across your cheeks, and then to your lips. “We should get going.” He husked in your ear. 

You let out a pathetic whimper, but agreed. As you both exited your building, the cold open air served as a welcome relief. You both walked towards the bar, which was just around the corner. Conversation flowed easily with Rafael. Over a mix of cocktails and a shared plate of antipasto, you discussed the latest happenings - you were second chair on a case with Carisi and Rafael was assisting with post-exoneree legal support with The Innocence Project. 

Rafael insisted on paying the tab, much to your protest. “I remember what that early A.D.A salary was like.” 

After, you and him walked the five blocks over to the restaurant. During the walk over, snow began to fall. You mentioned to him how you always loved the first snow - how serene it made the city appear. You both agreed that was short-lived and then the great melt takes over - the streets turn into gross black slushie, resulting in playing a mental game if the puddle was shallow or a deep drop. 

Dinner was fantastic - you settled for Thai and Rafael had sushi. You were sitting by a window and waiting for a refill on your wine when you noticed how hard the snow was coming down. You must have had a worried look on your face because Rafael called out to you, stirring your attention back to him.

“I’m sorry - just the snow is really coming down.” You replied, looking out the window some more. 

“I agree. Let me check what the weather says.” Rafael replied as he reached for his phone. This time he frowned. “It’s going to get a lot worse. I have an idea - if you’re okay with it, of course. How about we take everything to go, and have dinner at your place. We can watch a movie?”

You nodded eagerly. “Perfect.”

**

The walk back to your place was equally unpleasant, as the wind whipped around, creating a near white-out. Suddenly the short trek seemed as if it was never ending. By the time you both made it back to your apartment, you were both frozen to the bone.

You unlocked the door to your apartment and held the door for Rafael. The lights flickered on and you made a beeline to your thermostat, to turn up the heat. It was times like this that you wished you had a fireplace. The door shut with a click as Rafael made his way in further. 

You returned to take his coat. You couldn’t help but find a frozen, red faced Rafael look adorable, especially with some snow lingering on his hair and beard, which garnered a small giggle.

“What?” Rafael asked as a shiver went through him.

You reached up and wiped some snow that hadn’t yet melted off his beard. As you did so, Rafael turned into your palm and kissed your hand. You were still cold, but that small, simple kiss sent a jolt of heat through you. 

As Rafael turned to face you, your eyes met his - they were sparkling with desire. You felt your cheeks burn  in response; never in your prior relationships (if that), did you ever feel so wanted. You swallowed hard, your mouth suddenly dry as if you had a mouthful of crackers. Of course that then lent to the thought that you wanted a mouthful of something else. Your pulse began to pound and you wondered if Rafael could hear it. “I’ll set the food to reheat.” you manage to croak out. “Kitchen is this way.” You pointed towards the kitchen.

You and Rafael puttered around the kitchen and you pulled a bottle of wine from the fridge. “You will note - it is white wine.” You laughed. “After that last disaster, I couldn’t take the risk.” 

You grabbed some wine glasses and set them on the table and finished putting the food in the oven to warm up.

“I wouldn’t call that date entirely a disaster. It was turning up until we were so rudely interrupted by SVU.” Rafael winked.

“Such a shame. Who knows what would have happened.” You replied, approaching him. Between the kiss to your palm and the cranked up heat, you almost felt suffocated in your thick sweater dress. “Maybe later, we can pick up from there?” Your voice was hopeful.

Rafael gave you a lascivious grin in response and you felt your cunt kick. Dinner didn’t seem so important at all. 

**

Dinner did occur, however. You set up your coffee table with the heated food while Rafael brought over the cutlery, glasses and bottle of wine. The movie of choice was 1917, a personal story woven through the backdrop of WW1. It was fast moving, full of action, tension, emotional and bloody. 

Your lights began to flicker and the wind howled outside your window. Suddenly the two of you were plunged into darkness. There was a pregnant pause and then Rafael finally spoke.

“Ah fuck -- it’s like the universe is out to--” 

“Don’t say it.” You interjected through clenched teeth.

Rafael sighed. “I won’t.” A light shone brightly and he realized you had turned on the flashlight on your phone. You stood and moved the light so it was on him. Rafael raised his arm to block the light on his face. 

“Let me turn mine on.” Rafael spoke. “Do you have any candles?”

“In the kitchen, under the sink. The building has a back-up generator so I am not sure what the hell is going on.” It was your turn to sigh. 

Rafael followed you into the kitchen. You squatted down to pull out the various scented candles you had hoarded over the years. You were pretty sure the combined scents - ‘rainshower’, ‘moonlight path’, ‘coconut lime verbena’ - to name a few, would be a good mixture, but this was no time for semantics. 

“Where do you keep your matches?” Rafael asked as you continued taking out candles. 

“Upper cabinet, over the forks and spoons.” You replied. 

There was a knock on the door and Rafael opened the door cautiously, with you peering over his shoulder. It was Mr.Hunt, the building supervisor. 

“Just came by to let you know I am working on getting the generator up and running. Wind knocked down the line outside the building.” He replied. “Hang tight as best you can - do you guys need anything?”

“No, we’re all set, but thank you.” You replied. “Stay safe.”

After, you and Rafael lit up a few of the candles. The apartment began to come back to life, with the glow of the candles casting a glowing ethereal effect. You gnawed on your lip, looking up at Rafael. “Well, shit at least we tried.”

Rafael laughed. “I’m sorry, but if we don’t laugh about it, we’ll cry.” He enveloped you into a hug, squeezing you tightly. You nuzzled his chest, the scent of his cologne wafted over you and you felt a sense of calm wash over you. Rafael pressed a kiss to your forehead. 

“Stay the night?” You asked against his chest. “I’ll need some extra warmth.”

A low rumble emanated from Rafael’s chest. “I thought you’d never ask.” he husked. 

“Let’s grab the candles. Follow me through the dark.” You replied as you led Rafael towards your bedroom. The candles were set on various furniture - your writing desk, on your tall drawer chest, and on the nightstand. 

Standing in front of you, Rafael slipped his hand through your hair. You closed your eyes and tilted your head into the caress. 

“Are you sure about this?” He asked. “I'll let you set the pace.” You opened your eyes and smiled. 

“Never more sure. Are you?” A rush of breath pushed past your breath.

“God you have no idea.” Rafael rubbed his hands over his face. You licked your lips in eager anticipation. 

“Then what are you waiting for?”

Rafael cupped your cheek once more and then with his other hand, pushed some of your hair behind your ear. Your heart was pounding in tandem with the pounding of arousal between your legs. Cupping both sides of your face, Rafael leaned in and slanted his lips against yours. 

Instant fire and electricity shot through your body. You placed your hands on his chest and moved them up to his neck, holding onto him. Rafael tilted his face and deepened the kiss, pressing his tongue against your lips and you opened up for him. His tongue sought yours and teased it. You gasped as he trailed his lips along your jawline to your ear. His breath was heavy in sensitive areas of your neck and chills ran through your spine. Rafael pulled you even closer, if that was even possible, moving his arms around you and dug his fingers into your skin. 

You pressed your hands to his chest and put the smallest of spaces between you and him. “Let's take this to the bed. I want to see more of you.”

Rafael pressed a kiss to your forehead and began to remove his clothes. You eyed the prominent bulge in his boxers and you smirked, enjoying the feeling you had done that to him. You followed suit, making quick removal of your own clothes until you were standing in front of him, wearing nothing but a strip of black fabric that dared call itself underwear. 

You watched as Rafael’s eyes swept over your near nude form. You were exquisite; your nipples were hardened diamonds, thanks to the chill in the air. And tonight, you were his. “You’re beautiful.” He closed the space between you and him and picked you up. You wrapped your arms and legs around him and allowed him to carry you to your bed. Rafael’s cock throbbed even harder being so closer to your pussy. 

Now on the bed, you and Rafael were a tangled mess of limbs. Rafael covered your body with his, leaning up slightly so he could lift his hands to your breasts, pressing your flesh together, his fingers teasing your nipples. You let out a soft sigh as he dipped his head down, flickering his tongue over your pebbled flesh. He shifted once more and his hand dropped down between your legs. His fingers ghosted over the fabric and you bucked your hips trying to get his touch.

“Touch me Rafael.” You whimpered as he swirled his tongue over your before sucking on it hard. The feel of his beard on your skin only served to heighten your pleasure. You ran your fingers through his salt and pepper hair. 

He pressed kisses along your abdomen as he made his way down to your legs. He hooked his fingers into the thin strips of your underwear and removed them up and over your legs. You rose your hips to help him with the removal and then lifted your ankles into the air. Rafael balled your ruined underwear in his hand and brought it to his face, inhaling deeply.  

“Spread your legs for me.” Rafael quietly ordered. You did as he requested, feeling both vulnerable and completely turned on at the same time. Though the light was dim, Rafael could see how wet you were as your pussy glinted with your essence.

Rafael pulled your legs by your calves, so that your legs draped over his shoulders. You propped yourself onto your elbows so you could watch. Rafael alternated placing kisses and love bites along your thighs before nestling in between your legs. His breath was hot on your pussy and he wanted nothing more than to bury his face against your body and taste every ounce of what you would give to him. He inhaled your scent deeply once more, almost reveling in it, before diving into your folds. His tongue was warm and wet; you threw your head back as his tongue performed in ways you didn’t think was humanly possible - he was as silver tongued in the bedroom as he was in the courtroom. You squirmed and Rafael laid a heavy forearm against your hips, stilling you. 

“Oh Jesus fuck.” you groaned as you fell back onto the bed. You pulled at his hair, tugging as your hips threatened to undulate against his mouth. Rafael snaked two fingers from under to slip into your warm sheath and you sighed in contentment. You murmured his name repeatedly as if in prayer. You tugged on his hair again, trying to keep him close as you felt your orgasm begin to build. Rafael pressed his thumb to your clit and massaged it in tandem with the finger-fucking he was giving you.

Rafael paused his actions, resting against your thigh, in an attempt to catch his own breath. You whined as his mouth left you. Rafael chuckled low and you could’ve sworn he said that he wasn’t done with you. You were an addiction he never knew he needed until now. 

He looked up at you and the sight was his near undoing: your body was quivering, your breath uneven. Rafael dove back in, lapping at your pussy, alternating long swipes with flicks, as he added another finger. The room was silent except for your moans and the wet sounds of Rafael’s oral activity. Your pussy clenched and you tilted your head to the side, closing your eyes. Rafael curled his fingers, finding the spot and used his thumb to rub your clit. You tried so very hard to keep still, but it was futile and you rocked against his hand as your walls clenched around his digits hard. You let out a whine as you were on the edge of paradise.

“That’s it - let go, let go for me.” Rafael commanded. 

“Fuck yes, Rafael. Oh fuck, oh my God!” You cried out.

“Let go hermosa. Just let go.” Rafael commanded once more.Your body obeyed his command as the tendrils of orgasm washed over you. 

Rafael continued to stroke you, wanting another. The second orgasm built up easily, rolling in from the first. There was a pressure inside of you and it snapped, and your back arched as you came once more. Wetness coated his hand and he inwardly beamed with pride. 

You fell back onto the bed, your chest heaving. You rubbed your hands over your face and giggled. “Oh fuck that was good.”

“You’re welcome.” Rafael smirked, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

Rafael made his way back up to your body, and he kissed you deeply. You could smell and taste yourself on his lips and beard. You pressed your hands up to his chest and pushed gently up, and Rafael took the signal and rolled you so were on top. 

“I want to return the favor.” You stated, but did not get a chance to as Rafael moved his hands to your waist, pulling you, your tits, flush against his face. One hand immediately reached for one while his mouth was on the other nipple instantly, suckling and nipping. 

You threw your head back as Rafael grazed his teeth along your sensitive flesh, sucking a mark on your skin. His tongue swirled along the bruised skin, soothing it. You push away, encouraging Rafael to lay back down.

“I told you, I want to repay the favor.” You replied as you ran your nails through his chest hair, slightly scraping. Rafael let out a grunt in response. You shimmied down his body until you reached his boxers. You palmed Rafael’s cock through the material, reveling in the feel of how hard he was - for you. 

Rafael removed his boxers and his cock sprung at attention, red and weeping. Rafael was thick and veiny. Your mouth filled with saliva at the idea of blowing him. You pumped his cock a few times before you wrapped your lips around the crown of his cock, running your tongue over it. The salty taste of his pre-cum flooded your mouth as your tongue. You flattened your tongue and then took the entire length in your mouth. Your tongue lavished every ridge and vein. Rafael let out a hiss of relief as he buried his hands into your hair. You relaxed your throat, taking his length more and more until he hit the back of your throat.

Rafael watched his cock disappear in your mouth and his eyes rolled back. You hollow your cheeks, and groaned around his cock, which sent vibrations up and through him. “Keep doing that… uhh… don’t stop.”

You look up at his face and Rafael’s eyes meet yours. You bob on his length with more gusto and use your hand in tandem, stroking. You dipped your head, sucking on his balls gently, and licking the seam, before giving him a gentle squeeze.

Rafael weaved his hand into your hair and pulled you up. Your chin was slick with saliva and he ran his thumb across your lips. 

“Keep that up and I’ll come in that pretty mouth.” Rafael husks as he pulls you back up onto him. “And I want to come in your sweet pussy.”

You both resume making out, hands touching and exploring everywhere and anywhere. He rolls you so you’re back onto your back and he sits back on his haunches, stroking his cock. 

Through the candlelight, Rafael watched as you crooked a finger to him and then pressed your own tits together. You let out a small moan and then snaked your hand to your pussy and began to finger yourself. 

“Fuck, watching you play with yourself is hot.” Rafael sighed, as he stroked his cock. He then removed your hand and brought it to his mouth, sucking them clean. Finally, Rafael lowered himself over you and rubbed his cock along your slit, gathering your wetness. You were hot, wet, and ready. 

Rafael pushed the head of his cock inside you and then pushed into you agonizingly slowly. Yo whimpered as he finally sank his length into you, bottoming out.  Your eyes fluttered close as you adjusted to his size, a mix of pleasure and slight burn as he stretched you. He fit you better than your favorite sweater. You grasped at his back, your nails pressing half-moon marks into his skin. Rafael pulled out again and then thrust back in, harder than before. You let out an obscene moan. “Oh Jesus fuck!” 

Rafael picked up the pace, pushing into you over and over. He hooked your leg and pushed it up to your chest, changing the angle of his cock stroked your walls. “You feel so tight around my cock, hermosa.” He grunted.

“Give it to me, give it to me, I need it.” You whined. Rafael reached for your arm and pulled it over your head, gripping it tightly. 

The sounds of grunts and moans along with skin on skin, fill the room and you can feel his balls slap against your pussy. The sensation was perverted and made you only want more. Rafael lowered his head down, pressing his forehead against yours. Your bodies are slick with sweat and beads of sweat roll off Rafael onto yours. 

Rafael continued fucking you deeply, sliding into you over and over in deep, long strokes. As he felt his own release approach, Rafael moved his lips to your neck and sucked a mark onto your skin. You are chanting his name over and over again, feeling your own orgasm approach. You snake your hand down and begin to rub your clit. 

“I’m going to come, oh shit, oh shit, Raf!” You come completely undone, wailing his name. 

“Come for Y/N, come for me. I’m going to come too!” Rafael groaned. Feeling your walls flutter around his cock, seeing your wrecked face - it was all too much for Rafael and with a strangled cry of your name, he stiffened and painted your walls with his release. 

The two of you come to a still, your breaths both uneven. Neither one of you spoke, and the only sound was rough-breathing and the howls of the storm outside.

Finally Rafael rolled off you and got up from the bed. You frowned. “What are you - where are you?” Dread began to fill your stomach.

“Blowing out the candles. Fire hazard.” Rafael said. “I’m not going anywhere hermosa.”

The room eventually plunged into darkness once more and as Rafael climbed back onto the bed, he brought the duvet over your bodies. You instantly rolled to him, resting your head on his chest, stroking lightly. He wrapped his arm around you tightly and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“Best date ever.” You murmured, feeling sleep begin to settle in. 

“Can’t wait ‘til we do it again.” Rafael replied, his own eyes drooping. Soon you were both asleep, in each other's arms.

The sun shone brightly in your bedroom and you stirred awake. You were cognizant of a heavy arm over you, pinning you in place. You shifted carefully and turned to face Rafael who was still asleep. Feeling secure, you closed your eyes and drifted back to sleep.

After some time, you stirred awake again. This time Rafael’s body was pressed against your back. And you very much felt his erection pressing against your ass. You wiggled against him and Rafael let out a small moan as his arm wrapped around your waist, holding you tightly.

You felt his beard brush against your shoulder as he pressed kisses along your shoulder and then he tilted your face back so he could kiss. The kiss was tender, soft, but still full of passion. 

You hesitantly broke the kiss. “Good morning.” You replied, turning over to face him.

“Good morning.” Rafael’s voice was gravelly, still full of sleep. His eyes went past your shoulder to the blinking clock behind you. “Looks like the power is back on.” 

You turned over and checked. “Huh, how about that. I hope this doesn’t mean you’re going to ditch me now that my heat is probably working again.”

Rafael grabbed you and rolled you so that you were on top of him. You let out a squeal as he did so. You pressed your arms down on his chest.

“Ditch you? How very much dare.” Rafael laughed, his eyes crinkling as he did so. “I was hoping we could…” He wiggled his eyebrows.

You bit your bottom lip, feeling lust coursing through you. You rolled your hips languidly, causing him to buck up. You bent down to kiss him, lifting your hips slightly so he could line his cock with your entrance. You let out a sigh as he filled you deeply. His hands were steady on your hips, guiding as you rolled your hips some more.

That day, you and Rafael hardly left your bed, except to rehydrate and order food. 

**

[Two years later]

Rafael walked down the street, tightening his scarf around his neck. It was another wintry evening in Manhattan. He was meeting you for dinner and as he bounded up the steps of One Hogan Place, he still remembered that day you met in December, when he first saw you through the blinds of Carisi’s office, which was now your office - Carisi was prompted and now resided in Barba’s old office. Rafael was scanned and searched for hazards by security. He emptied his pockets, tossing his wallet and keys. The wand beeped and the security guard glared at him. Rafael shot the guard an apologetic look as he fished out the velvet box from his pocket.

The guard nodded and waved him through. He gathered his things and put them all away, including the box. He had arrived at the elevator bank when the door opened to you. 

“I thought I was meeting you upstairs?” Rafael questioned as he pressed a kiss to your lips. 

“You were, but I finished early. Ready for dinner?” You asked as you slung your work bag over your shoulder.

“As I’ll ever be.” Rafael murmured, taking your hand as you walked out into the snowy mix that began to fall.

FIN

**

Tag list: @madpanda75  @tropes-and-tales @dreamlover31 @mgarner1227@beardedmccoy @youreverycolor @neely1177 @witches-unruly-heart @mrsrafaelbarba @skittle479 @ottosuricato @sass-and-suspenders @mommakat32 @dreila03  @beccabarba @garturbo @lovebennycolonmiguelgalindo @imjustreallynosy @sweetsummertime99 @whyissvuruiningmylovelife @annabelleb49 @scarletsoldierrr @cesarofangirl78 @redlipstickandplaid @redlipstickandblacktea @zoeykaytesmom @differentshadesofgray @misssirenlove @esparza-army @bananas-pajamas @mishaissocoolike @thefanficfaerie @theenchantedgalleryofstories @catnip987 @choppedgalaxynerd @pieceofshittytitty @ktiz90 @evee87 @itsjustmyfantasyroom @detective-giggles @rampantmuses @jazzyjoi @caked-crusader @rachelxwayne @prurientpuddlejumper @lv7867 @permanentlydizzy @bisexual-dreamer02 @madamsnape921 @averyhotchner @teamsladsandgents @qvid-pro-qvo @alwaysachorusgirl @amelia-song-pond @wanniiieeee​

[volexis]

⤷ december 14 ▸ don’t leaf me hanging ft. bakugou

summary: holiday parties aren’t the best way to spend a pleasant, snowy evening, especially when you bump into your frenemy practically everywhere you go. your evening takes a turn for the worse when you’re stuck together beneath the most odious sprig of the season: mistletoe. how will you get out of this one?

warnings: slight hint of college au, some cursing, mentions of drinking, unwanted advances

wc: 1.9k

a/n: this was horrible but terribly gratifying to write at the same time,,, low key my first time writing for both bakugou and bnha and high key v nervous about posting this since its like a billion years late but i guess its a christmas present?

note: find the rest of the advent calendar here!

Idle chatter rings in your ears as you cradle a mug of now cooled hot chocolate. The room was pleasantly warm, but the onset of partygoers stifled you. Everything was swelteringly suffocating and you gave Mina a sheepish smile. “I’m gonna go refill my drink, I’ll be right back.”

“(Y/N), you haven’t even touched—”

You paid her no heed and all but bolted towards the kitchen. Immediately the atmosphere quieted, the living room’s noise dulling to an easily ignored thrum. You leaned against the marbled counter, fingers skimming the slight pores of the mineral. 

“What’re you doing here?” You heard a growl from the other side of the table, the tenacity of its timbre almost making you drop your cup. You spun to meet scarlet eyes that practically burned into you. Immediately, a scowl pulled at your lips. Of course, it was none other than the resident pain in your ass, nuisance extraordinaire: Bakugou Katsuki. 

He had it in for you the day you’d met, that much you knew. It was as if he took one look at you and dismissed you as what he generously liked to call ‘an extra’. As if he couldn’t be bothered to dignify you with his presence, let alone a conversation. Normally, you’d brush it off but something about it all irked you to no end. You made it your mission to be around him as much as possible, learn what makes him tick as well as what made him hate you so. Initially, he reacted as predicted. He practically leveled the building that first day in his booming voice and irate fury, to which you responded with nothing but a laugh. As enigmatic as he may seem, Bakugou was surprisingly predictable. 

The weeks passed by and you’d come to notice his yelling had toned down, not significant enough to be perceptible by the rest, but his words no longer held the same sharp edge as before though his aggressivity was as boisterous as ever. Soon enough you began to feel more at ease in his presence, even going as far as looking forward to the next time you’d see him at your lectures, in the halls, out at lunch. Catching yourself scanning the area for his presence every time you’d enter a room. In short, you had fallen for him. Hard.

Together you fell into a steady rhythm. He allowed you to remain in his vicinity unscathed and you didn’t have to tiptoe around his easily detonated temper. 

You quickly learned his moods were more fluctuant than you ever could’ve guessed. The days leading to the small holiday party you found yourself in were riddled with the same explosive disposition from when you’d first met. Every stinging barb and taunt wounded you a little more than you’d like to admit. And then, radio silence. You no longer studied together, he no longer met your eyes when you had made a particularly interesting comment. Back to the very beginning when he didn’t even know you existed. You didn’t know what hurt more. 

You forced yourself to take a deep breath and smooth your words into a clipped, polite speech.

“I’m in the kitchen, same as you. Do you have a problem with that?”

The blonde balked, opening his mouth to spew a retort, when Mina stumbled into the kitchen, bright smiles and full of boundless cheer. “(Y/N) since you’re in here would you mind getting me and—” 

Her words died on her lips, tripping over each other as he planted her hands on your shoulders and tugged you away from the blonde, an uneasy grin on her face. “We’ll be going now.”

You gave him what you hoped looked like a sincere smile; one that hid the painfully evident panic that shot through your limbs. You knew well enough not to provoke him nor did you have the energy to do so. 

Mina stopped pulling once you were safely outside in the hallway. Silence followed as her hands slipped from their perch on your shoulders to your own, shaking them lightly to force you to look at her.

“What was that?” The incredulity that filled her words matched her bug-eyed expression, swerving as she alternated from staring at you and the room you’d just exited. 

“Actually, I don’t know.” You were equally as shocked and stumped as the poor girl. 

“Well, in any case, I don’t think it’s worth ruining Kirishima’s party over whatever it is that’s been going on between you two lately. Just in case, it’ll be safer to avoid him for the rest of the evening, yeah?”

You nodded numbly and allowed her to take you back to the living room now outfitted with a hastily put together dance floor. Mina was right, anyhow. From just one quick look towards the rest of the room, you could tell everyone was enjoying their evening, basking in the warmth coming from the central heating as well as the close proximity. There’s no need to need to spoil the festivities with a silly quarrel you could fix any other day. However, there was one slight issue with your plan. Out of the corner of your eye, you’d catch a glimpse of spiky blonde hair. No matter where you’d go, he’d still be there, somewhere. Every move you made seemed to draw him closer. With a huff, you maneuvered around the throng of dancers to make your way back to the kitchen. There’s still a chance he’d follow you, but at least you’d be further away from the vigilant stares of the crowd. 

As you thought, Bakugou was already leaning against the marbled counter once you stepped in. 

“Mind telling me why you’re avoiding me?”

Before you could answer him, someone else stumbled into the kitchen seemingly towards you, all wobbling steps and inebriated smiles. His drink sloshed in the dented plastic cup he held onto so tightly, rivulets of it spilling down the side and splashing onto his clothes. “You’re really pretty, would you give me your number?”

You scoffed at his sudden forwardness, a scowl pulling at your lips once you had fully registered his words. “Why should I?”

The man, startled at your response, was silent for a beat. Seemingly regaining his composure, he pressed closer into you, backing you further into the counter. “Well,” he leaned towards your ear as if his next words were to be shared only with you. “If you do give me your number, maybe I can call you up and I could show you a good time. Whaddaya say, pretty thing?”

Words failed to form, tripping over each other as you stumbled away from him, away from whatever he thought he was doing. You bumped into something solid as you backtracked, turning around to see that it had been the fiery blonde himself. 

“That’s not happening, asshole, we’ll be going now.” absolute venom dripped from his words as he smiled cruelly, his lips contorting into something akin to a sneer as he takes your hand in his, tugging you away. 

Despite the constant abrasiveness in his everyday mannerisms,  you couldn’t help but marvel at the gentle manner he used to intertwine his fingers with yours. He wasn’t rough in pulling you from the kitchen, he didn’t crush your hand in his grasp or practically pull your arm out of its socket. He was almost sweet, coaxing you away from the situation. 

He only stopped once you were a safe distance away, turned in the direction you’d come from, to presumably make sure the offender hadn’t followed. You’d been too preoccupied with the softness of his touch to notice him watching the kitchen doorway and then the rest of the crowd once he noticed the other student sift in, glaring sharply every time their eyes met. Suffice to say, you were probably not going to hear from him in a long time. 

“Bakugou?” He let out a noise of acknowledgment, eyes still trained on something across the room. 

“You can let go of my hand now.” 

He blinked owlishly, looking down at your fingers as if he now just realized what he had been doing. “You never answered my question.”

“And you haven’t let go of my hand.”

His next words were drowned out by tumultuous cheers and wild shouts of the other students. They’d formed a crowd behind the two of you. Why?

“Kiss! Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” You looked to Bakugou in confusion, who responded by pointing up to the top of the doorway to spot a small tangle of mistletoe lies poorly taped to the wood. 

Realization dawned on you and frustration ebbed into your rapidly spiraling thoughts. Of all people to be stuck under that odious herb, it just had to be the one who sent your poor heart into overdrive every time you’d catch one of the softer, more peaceful looks he’d sport around you. Part of you wanted to grab him and plant your lips on his, that part of you had longed for such an opportunity for a while now, longed for him. The other part of you was caught up in trying to process Bakugou’s radical change in behavior. From one minute to the next he had gone from his usual brutally harsh demeanor to holding your hand so tenderly as if he was scared to hurt you.

“We don’t really have to do this if you don’t want to,” You were unsure of what you wanted, what you thought of him. He said nothing as he gently placed his hands on your cheeks, drawing closer till his lips met yours. The world drowned out around you. Electricity surged through your every nerve and you shivered as you felt him nip at your bottom lip. You drown in the taste of spiced cinnamon and his tongue swiping along the roof of your mouth. It’s dizzying and you almost couldn’t believe it had happened once he pulls away. 

Once you look into his eyes you’re suddenly aware of the crowd’s roar behind you. The full weight of the past few moments settle in and you don’t know if you want to slap him or kiss him again. 

“You never answered my question, but I have been treating you like shit all week. You don’t deserve it. You really don’t,” he repeated, tapering off as he fumbled for the right words to say.

“I got scared of my feelings, of what they meant, and I pushed you away because of it.”

“That’s putting it lightly, Bakugou,” You let the ghost of a smile pull at your lips. After all, that’s probably the closest he’d get to an apology.

“Dumbass, don’t interrupt me while I’m trying to tell you that I like you—” His cheeks burned once he realized what he’d said. You mirrored his reaction, eyes widening at his words.

“You like me?” Your smile quirked into a full grin as you pulled him back towards you in another kiss. Immediately his hands shot to your waist, pressing you closer to him as you lost yourself in the way his lips melded against yours. He’s everywhere, up the curve of your spine and down your arms, kissing you with a fervent urgency you’d never known before. The feeling of melting so deliciously against him made your nerves sing. A sudden giddiness spun through you as you pulled away and mirrored Bakugou’s radiant smile. 

“Luckily, I just so happen to like you too.”

taglist: @tsumuseum @amoroushero @mrslordexplosionmurder @ssat0ris​ @osamusriceballs @seraphgabrielle​ @1642lux

strike through means I wasn’t able to tag you

additional note: event taglist is open! send an ask if you’d like to be added <3

[fresh-prince-of-denmark]

New Dawn Fades — Literary References Analysis Part 4: The Id, the Ego, the Superego

Cyberpunk Spoiler Warning 

Here’s part four of me going through all the endings and looking for the literary references in each of the endings, which I believe allude to what happens to V/Johnny, possibly in future DLC. If you haven’t read my other posts, you should read them here (Johnny’s Mikoshi poem, V’s Mikoshi Poem, The Star ending) first since we’re gonna loop back to them later.

New Dawn Fades was such a pain in the ass; because Johnny is such an art hoe, I found three different poems/stories scattered around. Not only that, but two of them are translated from Polish, and one of them us from Ovid’s The Metamorphoses. I studied English literature so…forgive me if this is super surface-level. Also, stuff gets lost in translation, so the original meaning sometimes gets lost. If Polish literature is anyones niche, please teach me a thing two, but all I can do now is my best! But from what I could tell, damn…paints a pretty depressing picture. Let’s start with the two Polish writers first:

Bolesław Leśmian, "Why so many candles...”

Why so many candles, these faces above me?

No more harm shall ever meet my body.

Everyone is standing - while here alone I lie -

Grieving, feigning. One must be true when one must die.

And so, buried under these wreathes of leaves, I lie -

Solemnly - Agelessly - Solitarily.

Death, gone silent, once again rushes to my head,

Though by now I know all my comprehension is dead.

How I loathe to become accustomed to this grave,

To be what I once was - that is all I crave.

This one is…yikes. Depressing. As I talked about in previous posts, V’s poem is more pessimistic: nothing we do matters, we’re all just dust in the wind, you know, the good stuff. Johnny’s poem has a very different stance; art makes us immortal, and we can change the world, etc. With this…Johnny seems to have given his larger-than-life attitude up in favor of V’s resignation that life sucks. Much like Prufrock in V’s poem, Johnny is lying “Solemnly - Agelessly - Solitarily.” Almost as if he didn’t want V’s body, not as a selfless gesture…but because he has grown accustom to his previous form. In Johnny’s version of Alt’s poem, it almost seems as if he embraces being a construct — the form of immortality it, and his legacy, grants him (remember all that hokey about being a golden bird to sing his message to the youth?). Blackwall was a kind of death Johnny knew — yet now:

“How I loathe to become accustomed to this grave,

To be what I once was - that is all I crave.”

Interesting. We never find out where Johnny is going when he leaves Night City, but it makes me wonder. Is he truly starting anew? Or hoping to fix what went wrong?

In the next room, we find another poem, this one an excerpt from Labyrinth by Wisława Szymborska:

So this way or that,

Or no, the other,

By ear or by your gut,

By your wits or by shortcut,

By any means necessary,

Cutting crooked corners.

Past whatever row in a row

Of corridors and gates,

Quickly, in the meantime

Your time grows short,

From one place to another

To one of many still open,

Of darkness and plight

But also delight, held just ajar,

Where there's joy, though sorrow

Lies well-nigh nearby,

And elsewhere, somewhere,

Wheresoever and whereabout,

Fortune in misfortune

Like a parenthetical parenthesis

Acceptance of it all

And suddenly - a fall

I’m a little shaky on the meaning behind this one. My immediate response is to compare it to the poem found in The Star — which contains a piece from The Marriage Between Heaven and Hell by William Blake. The overarching use of this poem, by my interpretation, is an explanation for what the Blackwall is: hell. But not hell how most would perceive it. In fact, according to Blake, hell isn’t so bad. Our views of heaven and hell, good and evil, are wrong. Everyone contains both good and bad within them, and neither is wrong, simply two opposites; between conformity and rebellion, art and obedience. If we were to look at it this way, V would most likely belong in “Heaven,” the world of the obedient, those who play by the worlds rules (at least, in the beginning of the story, before Johnny influences them toward the rebel path), while Johnny represents “Evil,” and would belong to Hell. In some dialogue choices, Johnny will even state that he no longer believes he is a human, and is in fact code, no longer belonging in the world of the living. In this scenario, both have found themselves where they don’t belong. Not only that — but one is supposed to be a healthy mix of so-called “Good” and “Evil.” The “Soul,” and “Body,” are one, not meant to be separated. Uh oh. The tone of this poem in Johnny’s context just seems so…lost, to me. Someone who found their other half, their perfect foil, a soul and body as one…and now it’s gone. What does one do after such a loss?

And finally, the most grim of the three stories: Ovid’s The Metamorphoses. Specifically, Book III, Narcissus and Echo. This one most likely has the greatest significance; not only is it a shard you can pick up, but an open copy of the book can be found in Johnny’s hotel room, drawing further attention to it. 

If you haven’t read it, let me give you a quick and dirty summary:

At the beginning of the story, Narcissus’ mother, Liriope, asks the prophet Tiresias if her son will live to see old age, which he replies “only if he does not know himself.” One day when Narcissus is 16, he is out hunting when he finds a mountain Nymph named Echo. Echo, as one might guess, was cursed by Hera and can only repeat what is said back to her. You know. Like an echo. Echo falls in love with Narcissus at first sight and follows him throughout the forest, waiting for him to speak so she can communicate with him. Narcissus eventually gets separated from his hunting group, and calls out for them, which Echo…well, echos. Eventually Echo reveals herself and Narcissus freaks out, telling her basically he’d rather die than be with her. She hides in a cave and pines until she whithers away from hunger, and only her voice remains.

Many other nymphs fall for Narcissus because apparently he’s a straight up snack, but he rejects all of them. Apparently someone gets so salty about it, they summon the Goddess of Vengeance to do something about it. She leads him to a crystal clear pool, in which he is able to see his reflection. Remember the thing about knowing oneself? Yeah…At first, Narcissus thinks the reflection is a different person and falls in love. He smiles, the reflection smiles, so it must like him back, right? Eventually he reaches to touch it, and realizes that it’s him. He freaks out, and much like Echo, stays by his reflections side until he withers away. Having a total meltdown, he cries out “Alas!” which is echoed, by well, Echo. Her voice lived on, and she watches him die as he calls “Farewell, dear boy. Beloved in vain.” Once again, Echo repeats this. Narcissus dies and all the thirsty hoes make a pyre to burn him, but when they go looking for him they find the Narcissus (flower) instead (nooo...dont transform into a flower, you’re so sexy ahaha). 

So what does this mean for Johnny/V? Well, two main things pop out to me: transformation, and reflections. Much like Echo and Narcissus are reflections of each other, V and Johnny reflect each other. As @ellitira pointed out in my analysis of the Star, V and Johnny constantly reflect each other. One of the most obvious ways is their literal reflection; if you look in a mirror during a relic malfunction, you’ll see Johnny, not V. But scenes are reflected as well; the first and last time V meets Johnny, they grab him by the shoulder from behind to get his attention as he turn to face them. The first time Johnny and V have a civil conversation, they’re sitting at a table in Tom’s Diner, Johnny’s foot on the table. This mimics their conversation in Mikoshi with Alt. Their conversation about taking a bullet for one another in the Pista Sofia where Johnny is sitting backwards on a chair while V is on the ground is also repeated moments later, as Johnny and V have their final conversation about who will stay and who will go with Alt. Johnny also mentions that he spent his first few weeks in NC laying in bed, staring at the ceiling fan. When he awakens in New Dawn Fades, what is he doing? Staring at the ceiling fan…in Pacifica, not far from the Pista Sofia. The boy who he gives the guitar to is even wearing V’s “favorite shirt”…the one we see them wearing in the first scene they’re introduced. There’s probably loads more, so feel free to share if you find any more. If you want to know more about why this is significant, make sure to read about V’s version of Alt’s poem. 

So why do these reflections/echos matter? Well, what does one do with a reflection? Reflect. Johnny begins to examine himself through V, and he begins to realize he doesn’t like what he sees. If V calls him the man who saved her life, he’ll respond with “you have no idea how badly I want that to be true.” He tries his best to right his wrong only after this conversation with V, not only in Burning Love and Chippin’ In, but in other ways too. For example, it’s Johnny’s idea to call V’s loved ones to say goodbye on the roof scene, because “he wished that he had had a chance to.” Because of V, he grows, changes, and becomes a better person, just as much if not more as he seems to change V. As he leaves V’s grave, he even states that he has changed; that he’s wiser now, and won’t make the same mistakes. He states he won’t dwell on what happened, but somehow I doubt that, considering everything above.

The other theme of Narcissus and Echo is of transformation; after all, metamorphosis actually means "to change or transform.” Echo becomes, well, and echo, and Narcissus becomes a flower. V and Johnny also transform; not only physically between engram and human, but they transform one another. Both of them fall in love, and neither will move on. Echo falls in love with Narcissus, and Narcissus falls in love with his reflection. Because they refuse to transform the way they feel, they must die and transform physically. So who represents who in this scenario? In a way, Johnny is both. Johnny is a bit, well, narcissistic. He’s self-absorbed in his flashbacks, and adored by countless fans, yet ignores them in favor of his own company. He thinks everything is about him (Alt’s death, Samurai, etc.)  and is willing to die for his beliefs. He is also constantly reflecting on himself through V. However, what really kills him is losing Alt; she tells him not to follow her (much like Narcissus tells Echo to leave him alone). He does anyway, and avenging her leads to his demise.

What’s especially sad about this is the way Johnny views transformation; he is very concerned with the idea of one’s individual identity, and hates the idea of turning into something you’re not. He despises that he’s going to turn V into himself by force. He hates dolls because he sees their behavior chip as something that changes them into something they’re not. He’s scared of V going to Blackwall not because it’s death, but because they “won’t be the same.” I don’t think Johnny ever wanted V’s body; again, not as a courtesy, but because it’s not him. After all, he could have just let nature take its course and let himself re-write their psyche, but instead he actively tries to save them as best he can. If V chooses to let him have their body, he hardly seems happy about it; especially compared to how happy he seems to see that part of him will live on in the way V refuses to give up should they choose to live on. By taking V’s body, he is no longer himself; rebel, rocker-boy, legend, and the guy who promised to save V’s life. Johnny in A New Dawn has lost his entire sense of self, his entire new and improved identity; one that learned from his mistakes and became a better person because of V. Johnny has The Tower tattooed on his arm, the card of (often painful) transformation and change. Yet this is what Johnny is most afraid of; not death, or even the not-so-bad sort-of hell that is Blackwall. He’s afraid of losing himself, and by losing V, he has lost a part of himself. The part of himself that was supposed to be a better person; who was supposed to save V’s life.

[ahsbitch]

A Walk In The Woods

Word Count: 5762

Summary: You find a wild Michael Langdon in the woods, and after deciding that he definitely needs some help, you invite him back home with you. 

Warnings:  Smut, 69ing, so obviously oral happens, Male and Female Receiving, A Bit Of Praise Kink, unprotected sex, Vaginal Intercourse, Sad Boi Michael, some cockwarming at the end (obviously I’m v into cockwarming, don’t @ me) Shitty Writing, lots of cursing, that’s all I can think of

A/N: I’m sure this is awful but idk I put effort into it so I’m posting it. Also I should totally wait to post til tomorrow bc it’s like midnight but?? I really wanted to post it today so I’m just going for it. Hope y’all enjoy, comments are Always appreciated, much love! ♥️

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

Walking barefoot in the woods was probably your most ridiculous hobby, but it was probably your favorite as well. 

There was always something to discover in the woods.

You tried to take a forest walk at least once a week, on Sundays. You would be gone for hours, wandering, feeling the ups and downs of the universe all around you.

There was always something to discover in the woods, and it was always something different.

Often you would stop in sunny patches and meditated. Sometimes you could feel the musings of something greater than you, running through you. 

Occasionally, you would find a wounded animal, typically just small things like squirrels or sparrows, although sometimes bigger creatures, a deer, an owl, a fox, things along those lines. You felt a responsibility to them, to help them, to clean them up and help them heal and get them better enough to go off on their journeys in life. 

On this particular walk, you found a type of wounded animal you’d never dealt with before. 

Michael Langdon. 

You found him wandering the woods, bleary eyed, coated in scratches and sunburns. 

“Are you alright, sir?” You moved slowly closer to him, not worried for yourself but afraid to startle him. 

The man was beautiful, you could tell he was beneath the dirt that covered him. 

You had startled him, it seemed, as he looked up at you with wild, piercing eyes, raising a hand and sending you flying back against a tree, pinning you there by the throat. 

Well, fuck. 

Your hands clawed at your neck in spite of yourself, trying to pull at something that wasn’t there. You wouldn’t have tried at all, if you were capable of rational thought, would have let it happen as you had great faith that the mystery man was going to let you go, but of course when one loses the ability to breathe, one’s body tends to panic in spite of what the mind may wish for. 

After a few seconds, you dropped to the ground, gasping for air.

Breathe in...Breathe out...Breathe in...Breathe out...Breath in..

“I’m sorry,” You stood up, keeping your gaze on the ground but taking a step towards him.

Although you still didn’t look him in the face, you could tell just from his voice that the man was confused, wandering closer to you, “Why are you sorry?”

Shrugging, you lifted your head from the ground, although you still kept it below eye level, “I frightened you. I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry.”

“I,” He frowned, and you focused your eyes on his mouth, “I attacked you.”

“Because I frightened you. I was trying not to, but I did, and I’m very sorry for it.”

“Is that why you won’t look me in the eye?” He sounded curious, and his mouth curved into a funny little smile, “Because you’re sorry?” 

“Because direct eye contact can be intimidating,” You explained, “I don’t want to upset you again.” 

Biting his lower lip, the man extended his hand, “It’s okay. I’m... my name is Michael. I’m sorry for...what I did. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

You took his hand, feeling a zip of electricity shoot through you, and finally looked into his eyes, “It’s okay. I’ve been hurt worse. Wasn’t a big deal. I’m Y/N. It’s nice to meet you, Michael.”

Brows scrunched together over his crystalline blue eyes, Michael cleared his throat, “It’s nice to meet you too, Y/N. I’m sorry for bothering you, I- I should let you go.”

You weren’t quite sure whether he meant that literally or figuratively, as he was still clutching at your hand like a lifeline. 

“Hang on,” Drawing him closer, you reached a careful hand up to his face, hesitating at the way he flinched, then stilled, his eyes flickering to the side anxiously, but allowing you to cup his cheek and examine him, “How long have you been out here?” 

Michael looked unsure of himself, leaning into your hand ever so slightly and seemingly not even conscious of it, “A few days, I think. I was doing a, well, I was doing something, but it didn’t work, and then I tried to make my way back to the city, but I kinda got lost.” 

“You must be starving,” You pulled away from him, straightening up, “I can take you back to the city, and you can come to my place for a little bit.”

You were already walking, and after a moment you heard Michael hurry to follow you, “What do you mean?”

“You said you were lost. I don’t think you just mean physically. Besides, you must be hungry, and no offense, but you’re kind of a mess right now,” You glanced back at him, giving a small smile when you saw his shocked expression, “You need help. I’m happy to give it.” 

“Why?” Michael moved to your side, walking in step with you, “Why would you help me? What if I’m a murderer?” 

“Even if you are, I don’t think you’ll murder me. If you do, I’d ask that you do it quickly, that’s just a little personal preference of mine, although of course if you’re some truly evil serial killer then I doubt you’d care much about my preferences,” Shrugging, you grasped his hand in yours and pulled him behind you, feeling another volt of electricity crackle through your veins as you led him back to the city. 

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

“You have a nice place,” Michael told you hesitantly as you made your way up the front steps of your apartment building. 

You almost laughed at that, but when you glanced back at him he looked so genuine in the compliment that you paused, pulling him inside, “You... you know this whole place isn’t mine, right? It’s an apartment building. My place is pretty not nice, actually. I mean, I like it, but it’s small and not very fancy, y’know?”

“Oh,” He looked a little embarrassed, and you could tell that he had thought the whole building belonged to you. He looked like someone who was used to money and big houses, or at least he looked like he would look like that if he didn’t currently look like he’d been attacked by some sort of weather monster and was now on the verge of passing out. 

“Sit,” You said simply, gesturing to the couch, and you hurried to get a glass of water, handing it to him, “Drink.” 

Bustling your way back to the kitchen, you looked back to see him staring at the cup, and you repeated, “Michael. Drink the water. Come on,” You turned to the plants on your windowsill, grabbing your kitchen shears, “Do you mind?”

“Do I mind drinking water?” Michael asked, confusion evident. 

“Not you,” You turned to him with a smile, nodding, “You don’t have a choice there. Drink the water. I was talking to Tennyson.”

“Who’s Tennyson?”

He had finished the cup of water, and you took it and refilled it before gesturing to the aloe vera plant that you had just trimmed a stalk off of, returning the cup to him, “The plant. The full name is Aloe, Lord Tennyson.”

“You name your plants?” Clearing his throat, Michael took a sip of the new cup of water, “You... talk to your plants?” 

Shrugging, you split the long leaf in half, scooping some of the gel inside onto your fingers, “Yes, and yes. Now this may hurt a bit, just a warning.”

You pressed against his forehead as gently as you could, where a large pinkish red sunburn rested, and Michael let out a hiss and suddenly you were flying across the room, hitting the wall. He didn’t hold you in place or choke you this time, at least, and in a moment he had leapt from the couch and hurried over to you, “I’m so sorry. It hurt and I wasn’t expecting it, I-”

“It’s okay,” You let Michael pull you to your feet, holding onto his hand ever more tightly as you looked at his ashen face and downtrodden expression, “I should’ve given you better warning. Listen, I’ll doctor you up later. Let’s get you in a bath, first, okay? You can bathe and I’ll make some food and then, after, we can take care of your sunburns and scrapes.”

“I keep hurting you,” Michael pulled his hand away, looking at it as though your touch had burned him, “And you keep being nice to me.” 

“If you were doing it on purpose, I’d be less nice. But you’re not, I can tell. Now, follow,�� You led the way to your small bathroom, starting to fill the tub with water. 

Michael sat on the edge of the tub, watching you adjust the temperature and light the candles that lay at the corners and pour in some bubble bath. He stared as you moved, humming to yourself, and when you stood and started to step away, “I have some old clothes that I think will fit you. They’re not particularly fancy, like what you’re wearing now, but they’re clean. I’ll drop them off once I get some dinner started, okay?” 

Nodding, Michael began to undo the buttons of his shirt, and you hurried out of the room. 

He was still lost, even though he wasn’t in the woods anymore. And you were determined to help him. 

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

“Y/N?” Michael called, cracking the bathroom door open, “I’m dressed and everything.”

“Great! Hop up on the counter for me, okay? Just hang tight,” You grabbed the bowl of aloe gel that you had scraped from the plant and a box of band aids and hurried back to the bathroom.

He was perched next to your sink, and you tapped at his knees. Michael frowned but opened his legs so you could stand in between them, “Why am I on your counter, exactly?”

“Because it’s time for me to play doctor. I’m going to touch your face, okay?” You cupped his cheek in your hand and tugged him down, beginning to dab gel onto his sunburns and clean the long scratches that streaked across his features, “Are you comfortable? Do the sweatpants fit okay and everything?” 

“They’re fine,” Michael mumbled, flinching when you pressed a band aid to one of the deeper cuts on his forehead, his hand curling into a fist. He sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly, letting his other hand rest gently on your shoulder, “I appreciate you letting me borrow them. And letting me use your bathtub, and well, and everything else.” 

You nodded, taking in a deep breath and finally moving your attention to notice that he was staring at you, smiling at him, “You used my shampoo.”

“Oh, yeah,” He turned pink, “Yeah, is that okay? It smelled like strawberries and it was right there so I just...”

“Of course! Not a problem at all. You smell nice,” You were looking straight at him now, and he continued to stare, and just when you’d tilted your head to the side, trying to discern what exactly Michael was thinking, he leaned forward and pressed his lips to yours. 

The hand that had rested on your shoulder came up to stroke your face, and then as quickly as it had started, it was done, and he had pulled away from you, turning his head sheepishly to the side. 

Clearing your throat nervously, you stepped back, “Do you like tomato soup?” 

“Yes,” Michael hopped off the counter, following you to the kitchen, although he stayed about four steps behind you. 

The two of you sat in silence for a while, looking at each other over bowls of soup and large dinner rolls. 

Your lips still buzzed from the memory of him against you, but you tried to ignore that. Michael scarfed food down for a while, and you simply kept refilling his bowl until he finally started to slow down, and then you asked carefully, “So, Michael. What’s gotten you lost like this. Tell me where you came from. Tell me about your parents.”  

“There isn’t much to tell about them,” Michael turned red, and he steadfastly refused to make eye contact with you, “My father abandoned me, and my mother tried to kill me. There’s only one person who’s ever really cared, who hasn’t abandoned me, and she’s gone now.”

“I’m sorry,” You said earnestly, letting your hand reach out just far enough to brush against his, “Humanity is unkind, often especially so to those who need kindness the most.” 

Michael had a curious way of frowning, his confusion always quite evident. His eyes would widen and his brows would move, displaying everything he was feeling. It was cute, honestly. 

“I’m sorry about earlier,” He said finally bluntly, having been staring at you in silence, “I shouldn’t have done that. You’re just...I mean... I was gonna try to just not mention it, but you’re so nice and I feel bad.”

“You should’ve asked first,” Drawing your hand away, you tried to make eye contact with him, but now he was avoiding your gaze, “For a lot of reasons. But I’m not mad at you.” 

“You’re not? I know I should’ve asked, I’m just... I’m not used to having to ask for things. I know that’s not a good excuse, but I don’t really know what to say. I’m just sorry,” Michael was frowning even deeper than before. 

Shrugging, you reached back across the table, this time allowing your fingers to stroke along his jaw, “The fact that you’re sorry is enough. Just... don’t go around kissing strangers with no warning, okay?”

“Okay,” He smiled, leaning into your hand, a strange rumbling noise emanating from deep in his chest, almost like a purr.

Suddenly, you felt a bolt of desire shoot through you, seemingly out of nowhere, and you shifted a little in your seat, “Are you done eating?” 

“Yeah, I’m good. Thank you for the food. I can find somewhere to go, I’m sure,” Pulling away from you, Michael started to stand, and you rushed to stand too.

“What do you mean? Why would you go anywhere?” You grabbed his arm, trying to hold him in place even as he brushed you away. 

“I don’t want to be a burden.”

A burden? 

“If you were going to be a burden, I wouldn’t have brought you here at all. Spend the night,” Squeezing at his wrist gently, you moved to stand in front of him.

Michael looked utterly taken aback by this, “Really? Are you sure?” 

You tugged him along behind you, to your bedroom, bringing him to sit on your bed and collapsing down next to him. 

“I’m sure,” Turning towards him, you tucked a stray strand of hair behind his ear and leaned forward, looking deeply into his eyes, “You’re the opposite of a burden, and I can prove it.” 

Michael’s breathing hitched, and he moved closer to you, closing his eyes and letting out a slow breath, “I really wanna kiss you again.” 

“You can,” You said simply, wanting to kiss him very badly, but having decided that he needed to be the one to initiate it.

“But you said-”

“I said you should ask first,” You placed a hand on his cheek, feeling something crackling in the air, his skin soft against your own.

“Y/N,” Michael leaned into you, and another rumble rolled from his chest, “May I please kiss you?”

“You can do a lot more than that. I want to show you that you’re not a burden. You deserve to feel good,” And then his mouth was on yours, and something deeper than electricity was running through you. 

He kissed you like a teenager, not pulling you closer to him but pushing his upper body forward, and you let out a giggle in spite of yourself.

Pulling back suddenly, Michael frowned, running a hand through his hair, “Sorry. Did I... did I do something wrong?”

“No, don’t be sorry!” You rolled your shoulders back, wishing that you two were still touching, a wave of regret hitting you when you saw the wounded look in his eyes, “I’m sorry. I wasn’t laughing at you, Michael, I just... I feel a lot of things right now, y’know? But they’re all good things! I’m just, well, shit, I’m rambling. I’m going to stop talking now and, uh, and take off my shirt. Take your shirt off? Please?” 

Michael’s eyes widened, and he opened his mouth to speak but closed it immediately when he saw you slip off your shirt, fumbling with the fabric of his own, letting out a shout as it got stuck over his head. 

“Fuck!” The fabric had bunched around his face, his voice slightly muffled, “Dammit, fucking, Y/N, help me!” 

Choking back a laugh, you climbed into his lap and assisted him in wrestling off the shirt, letting another giggle slip out at his look of relief once it was free, which instantly transformed into one of shock as he looked at you, and you could feel yourself starting to blush in spite of your best attempts not to, “Okay, you good?”

He let out a slow breath, eyes trained on securely on your breasts, covered in a lacy white bra, “I’m much more than good. I’m fantastic. Can I... I mean... can I kiss you again? Can I maybe touch you?” 

“I want you to feel good, Michael. Yes,” You gave him a quick kiss on the tip of the nose, smiling at the way he scrunched it up in response. 

Then Michael was kissing you again, and fuck it felt good, his skin ever so slightly prickling against you, and then he raised a tentative hand to your chest, swiping across your left nipple briefly. 

You let out a moan that you hadn’t expected, and he froze for a moment, beginning to slowly swirl his thumb around the covered bud. Suddenly his lips were gone from yours and wrapped around your right nipple, flicking his tongue against it experimentally, and he pulled back with a grin as you let out another breathy moan.

You sounded like a fucking porn star, what the fuck?

“Wow, you’re sensitive,” Michael teased, bringing his other hand up to replace his mouth, “Can I take your bra off?”

“I’ll get it. And I’m not this sensitive, not normally,” You panted, grinding down against him without thinking about it, reaching behind your back to unclasp, and letting out a high pitched whine when his hands were finally on your bare skin, “I mean, not like this. This is... this is you, I think.” 

You could already feel him hard underneath you, but at your words his erection became even more prominent, pressed firmly against your inner thigh.

The rumbling noise came from deep in Michael’s chest once again, and you decided that it was in fact a purr, or something damn close to one. He was beaming now, and there was something almost childlike about him when he looked so joyful, and there was an obvious note of pride in his voice, “Really? Me? Do you think I could make you cum doing this?” 

He pinched lightly and you gasped, head rolling back, “Probably, but not right now, okay? I wanna-fuck-I wanna-”

You couldn’t finish your sentence, couldn’t think of what was supposed to come next, and carefully you gripped Michael’s wrists, pulling his hands away from you and sliding off of his lap. 

With a pout, Michael watched you move between his legs, an eyebrow raised, “Was it really that intense?” 

“It was,” You glanced up at him from where you now lay, pressing a soft kiss to his cock through his sweatpants, your mind still strangely fogged, “It was... weird. Good weird, but weird. Are you secretly magical or something?” 

He barked a short laugh just a little too quickly for it to sound natural, but you figured that was maybe because you were mouthing along the outline of his dick, his hips bucking up every so slightly, and he was perhaps a bit too distracted to act like your terrible joke was funny. 

Just as you were sliding the sweatpants down his hips, Michael threaded his hands in your hair, tugging gently so that you’d look up at him, a blissful smile on his face as he watched you, “You’re so pretty, do you know that? You’re beautiful.” 

His dick had sprung out of his pants then, bouncing up to his stomach, and you weren’t able to respond at first because fucking hell, it was the most perfect dick you’d ever seen. Thick, veiny, a nice shade of pink although the tip had turned an angry red, and fuck it was big, probably too big, but you weren’t planning to complain about that. Finally, you snapped yourself out of your daze, looking back up at him with a laugh, “You’re just saying that because I’m about to suck your cock.” 

“No!” Michael looked shocked by the very thought, his hips bucking again, ever so slightly, at the feeling of your breath on his skin, “No, I’m serious. You’re so gorgeous, I-fuck-” You licked a line up the length of his cock, and he grabbed desperately at your shoulders, making you pause, “Dammit, I really want you to sit on my face.” 

Your thighs clenched, and you looked up at him, shaking your head to clear your thoughts, “I, I mean, no. I told you, I want to make you feel good. Not-”

“But it will!” Michael tugged at you, bringing you up until he could press a fervent kiss to your lips, “I want to. So bad. Please, Y/N, please do it. Please let me. Please.” 

Fucking hell, was he trying to kill you? 

“But I... I wanted you to feel good. Don’t you want me to...” You trailed off, trying to think as Michael kissed your neck. 

“I do, believe, me, I really do, but I also want this.”

“I’ve never done that before,” You admitted, feeling your face get hot with embarrassment, “Honestly, I’m afraid I’d end up accidentally smothering whoever I was with.” 

“That wouldn’t happen,” Michael assured, kicking his sweatpants the rest of the way off, and you find yourself peeling your own leggings off even though you still weren’t sure of what you were doing, and he hooked his fingers into your panties, a smirk on his face, “And even if it did, I can guarantee you that there would be no better way to die.” 

“Okay,” You let out a deep breath, letting out a contented hiss as he brushed his long fingers over your clit, “But I still want to give you a blowjob, okay?” 

“You can. Just face that way,” Michael grinned, ripping your panties off with one sharp tug. 

You were about to scold him, but then his fingers were pressing into your folds, and you gave a quiet gasp, “Michael, fuck.”

He laid down, hands tapping away at his stomach as he waited for you. Hesitantly, you crawled up the bed, turning so that you could look down the length of his body, and knelt over his face. 

You bent down, lifting his cock up and running your fingers along the underside of it, kissing the tip, and you felt him let out a shaky breath beneath you. 

“Fucking hell, you taste amazing,” Michael whispered, wrapping his hands around your thighs and pulling you down against him completely. 

He made the purring noise once more, sucking fervently at your clit, and you let out a shriek at the feeling of it rumbling through you. Pulling your legs even further apart, he buried his tongue into your folds, and finally, you opened your mouth as wide as you could and sunk down over his cock until his tip brushed the back of your throat. 

When he moved back to your clit, giving it careful kitten licks, you buried your finger nails into his thighs. At this, he groaned, thrusting up into your mouth, and you gagged. 

This was... what? The third time today he’d accidentally choked you? You hadn’t been angry during any of the other times, but this was the time that probably bothered you the least. 

“Sorry, babe, I’m sorry,” He rasped, and although you could hardly hear him, between the feeling of his words vibrating against you and the intense presence of Michael Langdon that filled the air around you, you knew exactly what he was saying. 

Babe.

It was such a gentle word from him, the way it rolled off his tongue so naturally making butterflies start fluttering in your stomach. 

Well, that, and the fact that the feeling of Michael against you was extraordinary, and you were feeling the tight, delightful bubble that signaled your impending orgasm beginning to form. 

You sucked harder. 

It took only a few minutes of this, of you licking and sucking, running your teeth over the pulsing vein that streaked along the side, before you felt him flex his thigh muscles beneath your hands, his salty cum splashing into your mouth. 

It was sweet alongside the salty, a strange mixture of the two, not unlike a chocolate covered pretzel, and you swallowed every drop you could before licking frantically along to make sure you didn’t miss anything. 

“Fuck,” He growled, something authoritative, almost dangerous, flooding through the air. 

Michael lifted you off of him as though you weighed nothing more than a ragdoll and tossed you down onto the mattress on your back, his lips suctioning around your clit once again, two fingers buried deep inside of you. 

You held onto his shoulders as his fingers scissored inside you, squeezing your legs tight around his head unintentionally. You felt him chuckle into your folds at that, and he removed his fingers from you momentarily to pull your legs over his shoulders. 

“Michael!” You mewled, your hips straining to jolt upward, and then he was moving faster, faster, adding a third finger that brushed a spot deeper inside you than anything else had ever reached. Your entire body clenched, and then suddenly you felt the waves of your climax wash over you. 

When your head was fully back, Michael had straightened up, examining his fingers, which were coated in your juices. 

“Fucking hell, Michael, I didn’t need to finish just then. You could’ve waited until you were fucking me for real,” You sat up on your forearms, laughing as you looked down at him. 

“Sorry,” Frowning, Michael pulled away, “Was that too much?” 

Why was he so goddamn sweet?

Moving to your knees, you pulled his face up to yours and kissed him, the taste of yourself that lingered on his tongue mixing with the salty remains of Michael on your own tongue, and you let out a low groan, pulling back to give him a smile, “No. It was wonderful.” 

“Okay. Can we... I mean,” He turned red, looking away from you, “Would you possibly consider riding me? Or do you want to stop now?” 

You rolled to the side, gesturing for Michael to move up the bed, and after a moment he did, sitting up against the headboard. Climbing into his lap in one swift movement, you let out a quiet moan at the feeling of him against your folds, his tip pressed against your interest. He swiped his hand between the two of you, gathering the fluids that had spilled from you and rubbing it onto his cock, lubing himself up with the remnants of your last orgasm. 

“Do you mind going slow?” You asked meekly, burying your face against his chest as you rocked against him, “I’m sorry, just, you’re really big.”

“Of course,” He cooed, running his hands through your hair, and finally you began sliding down the length of his cock. Burying your teeth into his neck, you tried to concentrate on how good this would feel once you got used to the stretch, the burn, and he whispered in your ear, “You’re doing so good. You-shit-you take my cock wonderfully, do you know that? It’s okay, I know it hurts, but you’re doing great.” 

When you had reached the end, and you were filled to the hilt, you gave a careful roll of your hips, testing the waters. You were feeling better now, running your tongue over the spot on his neck you had bitten, before beginning to suck another hickey into his soft skin. At this, Michael bucked into you, his cock hitting all the way up against your cervix, and you let out a shriek. 

You almost laughed at yourself. You had thought his fingers were impressive, but they were nothing compared to the sheer, masterful feeling of Michael inside you, his hands splayed against the small of your back, holding you in place as you leaned into him, taking one of your nipples into his mouth once again. 

“You feel so good, Michael,” You cried out, and Michael made that damn rumbling noise again, “Fuck, do you know that you purr? I love it.”

Although he continued to hold you, he seemed to be trying to hold back from fucking you too harshly, instead occasionally letting himself thrust into you, his eyes rolling back in his head at the way you moaned each time. He paused, looking up at you with a frown, “I don’t purr.” 

You giggled, although it quickly turned into a whimper as he began sucking hickeys into your breasts, and you squeezed his shoulders tightly to concentrate, “You do. You make lots of pretty noises. It makes sense, too. You’ve got such a pretty mouth, such a pretty face, such a pretty cock. You’re so pretty, it’s infected everything you do. And-fucking hell, that feels good-you move so well. Fill me up so well.” 

Michel lolled his head back against the headboard, the purring noise coming out again as you began to grind down harder. You kissed him quickly, watching as his eyes opened suddenly, drinking you in. 

“You’re perfect, Y/N, do you know that? You bounce so well on my cock, and your tits are so fucking perfect,” He paused, clearing his throat, “Was that the right thing to say? I don’t want to be disrespectful. I respect you, too, and all that. You’re just, fuck, you’re so fucking gorgeous and I don’t know how much longer I’m going to last.” 

“It’s okay,” You reassured him, looking at his face to see that it was glistening, and it took you a moment to realize that there were tears running down his face. Kissing each one away, licking up the salty trail they had left, you resolved not to mention it or ask why, exactly, he was crying, “I’m not gonna last much longer either. I want you to cum for me, okay? Please, Michael.”

“Should I... should I pull out?” He panted, helping you roll your hips. 

“You don’t have to,” Gasping, desperately, you buried your nails into his shoulders, trying to contain the climax that was beginning to boil through you, “Just, fuck, please finish soon, Michael. I’m going to-”

Nodding, Michael’s thrusting increased. Although he was still cautious, his hands coming up to cup your breasts, you could tell that he was close to his end, as well. 

And he was, and he did, his cum flooding you once more just as you felt yourself boil over, heading hanging back. You couldn’t keep it up anymore, couldn’t concentrate on controlling your body and finishing, and you felt your breath catch in your throat, stars dancing through the air just in front of you. 

Michael held your hips tightly as you came down from your high, and then you had buried your face against his chest once more, arms wrapped around his neck. 

Christ, that took a lot out of you.

You leaned back to see that his eyes had drifted shut, and you leaned forward to press soft kisses against the lids. 

When Michael blinked them back open, his mouth had curved into a sleepy smile, another purr rumbling up from his throat, “That was... wonderful.”

“I agree,” You smiled too, tilting your head to the side as he peppered gentle kisses along your throat, “Now, you’re tired. Do you want me to leave, so that you can get some sleep?”

Michael tensed, clutching at your hips desperately, “Please don’t leave. I mean, I do want to sleep. But please, stay.” 

“Okay,” Mumbling softly, you leaned closer to his ear, “And by the way, I know a place you might wanna check out tomorrow.”

Looking curious at this, Michael brought his nose to your jaw, brushing along it softly, “Where?” 

“Church of Satan. It’s a few blocks away.”

“What?” This snapped him to attention, and he stared at you as though you’d grown a second head, “You’re... are you a Satanist?”

“No. Not a fan of organized religions. I believe in nature, and kindness. In caring for the ones around you who need it. But,” You folded his ear forward, kissing the three small scars behind it as delicately as you could, “I think that it would be beneficial for you to go.” 

“How did you know?” He shifted back so that he could sit more upright against the headboard, and you felt your sore walls pulse around his cock, still buried deep inside you, as you moved. 

You shrugged, “Lucky guess. Now, that’s all. No more talk. You need some sleep.”

Michael looked like he was about to argue with you, but then you pressed your head into his chest once more, and he rested his chin contentedly on top of your shoulder. 

You were almost asleep when he finally spoke up, hands rubbing gently along your spine, his voice hoarse, “Y/N? I just... I wanted to say thank you. I don’t normally say that, but you’re, well, I haven’t been treated with this much kindness, this much care, in a long time. Don’t say anything, I don’t want you to say anything, I just needed to tell you. Thank you.” 

And within moments his breathing had shifted, and he snored quietly, softly, and the snores sounded an awful lot like purrs, and the two of you were as close to each other as was physically possible, his dick softened inside you and his arms wrapped around you, and then you were asleep too, the two of you floating to a dream land that you couldn’t quite name.