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loganlermanstanaccount · 9 months

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Rigor Mortis (part 4)

College roommate!Miguel O'Hara x reader

(AO3 Mirror) (Wattpad) Series Masterlist, Main Masterlist,

Part 3, Part 5

summary: You get your laptop fixed... eventually.

warnings: smut!! (finally lmfao) masturbation, mutual masturbation, tiny bit of voyeurism, recreational drug use, dry humping, etc 18+ Minors DNI

a/n: caught up to where the og oneshot ends so i wanted to switch it up!!

Thank you to my beta readers, @tianyhi and @urgonnaneedabiggership (they also write Miguel fics, I highly recommend! my favourite is this series), I couldn't have done it without you guys <3

Join my taglists here

wc: 6.8k (still in shock i wrote all this lmfao, i'm strictly a <4k words kinda gal)

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

lips black and blue and gold.

You're frustrated. Bouncing off the walls, head spinning; and it's for a couple of reasons.

First off: you haven't managed to find a laptop. Money you've worked damn hard for, and you can't really afford a new one. With moving around, you've burnt through quite a bit of your emergency fund. Enough to convince yourself you'll be just fine with a pen and paper in class, and the Google docs on your phone when desperate. It might actually force you to go to the library instead of half assing assignments the night before, you think.

And there's your lab book, which you were smart enough to back up on your computer, but guess what? That's fucked; probably taken apart and sold for scraps by Miguel's mysterious friend , who you've conveniently never even heard of and–

"Just ask for an extension." He says, feet up on the sofa. Oddly enough, you've been doing that more often; spending time together. He's not holed up in his room as much, and spends time studying on the dining table, or pretending not to watch the soaps you've got on TV.

"You're overthinking it. Explain the situation, chula, and it'll be fine." He doesn't even look up, just throws the statement in your direction like the lazy pass of a ball.

You scoff, because he's right, and go back to overthinking. You think you can copy out the ruined half of your labbook by hand, and if you beg your OChem teacher for an extra credit project then–

"If I let you use my laptop, will you stop doing that?"

"Doing what?" You frown as he walks over, and reaches to gently pull your hands apart. He turns your palms over, pointing at the raw edges of your fingernails.

" That. " Mindlessly, you'd been picking at your fingernails, without even noticing. Looking up at him, he rolls his eyes.

"...is that a yes?" You nod, hesitant, and catch the hint of a smile as he pads off to his room.

When he returns, open laptop in hand, he thrusts it into your arms - and sits himself back onto the sofa. This time, he splays out facing you, avocado socks resting on your knee. You fight the urge to push him off, a small price to pay in return for his moment of kindness. He's been doing that more often now, slightly more touchy and maybe even… comfortable around you. Eyes flickering up towards him, you catch his. His brows knead together, and you return your attention to the screen just as quickly.

You're going through the motions, more or less, logging into your college's portal and drafting up quick emails to send to your lecturers. But it's when you open up a new tab, that you see something at the top of the screen and pause. Mouse hovering over an incognito tab, hidden in a nest of referencing websites and scientific journals; it's there. Bold letters, in all caps: WOMAN POUNDED BY BIG BEEFY–

You shouldn't. You really, really shouldn't. Once again, you look up at Miguel, and he couldn't care less; tapping away at his phone, only stopping to look at the TV. Nevertheless, you shift to hide the laptop screen from him. But you're not going to look, or anything. You know better than to take a look at your roommates porn habits, the stuff he drools over whilst he fucks his fist; a big, dextrous palm wrapped around his shaft.

You've done it. Clicked on the tab and nothing's exploded, as of yet. You turn down the brightness, with some shame, as if to make the paused video less explicit. But the image stays, a woman folded under the weight of the man above – in the middle of bullying his fat cock into her pussy. It's amateur; hot and sweaty and sticky, with only the woman fully visible. You suppose your curiosity's been sated, but you can't help but think…

…the woman. She looks like you.

Tilting your head, you can't help but see the resemblance. Not the exact same of course - but her hair is similar, body type, skin tone, eyes. It's not close enough to be weird, you guess, but it's enough that that thought stays - burrows into you like an earthworm into an apple. Scrolling down, you see other videos, with the same woman, other women that look like you - the telltale red bar of watched videos. Evidence, but not really, and it makes you heat up. Your mouth goes dry, and you look over to him: only able to concentrate on the hand he's got spread out at his belly, the brown flesh peeking out - and how it looks just like the one on the base of the woman's stomach in the video.

"...everything ok?" He's looking at you, suddenly; and you attempt to click over to your original tab, discreetly.

He doesn't seem to notice, padding over to your side and leaning into your shoulder.

"Yeah, no, I just…" All you can manage is a nervous smile. "The screen froze, so…"

"Oh." He gives the track pad a swipe. "Seems fine to m–"

He freezes up slightly, and you watch as his eyes flick up the screen. The laptop is eased out of your hands, and he gives a few quick clicks. By the time it's back in your lap, the offending tab is gone. Imperceptible, his jaw shifts.

"...Should be okay now."

You hum, a little amused at the display. He's seemingly unfazed, his little slip up notwithstanding, and leans back to lie up against you. Obnoxious, he splays onto the sofa cushions, his weight practically smothering you as you fight to push him off. You think he likes it – it's the only possible explanation – and gets off from watching you squirm. He seems desperate for a reaction, a child pushing boundaries and pressing buttons to see what exactly makes you tick.

And that's the second thing: it works . He's more touchy, and just as insufferable – jumping at any excuse to be near you, it seems. Miguel has a tendency to hover, follow you around the apartment as you talk aimlessly, and you do the same. You sit by against the doorway to the kitchen whilst he makes dinner; he floats around the door to your room when you try to study. In fact, you've spoken to your roommate more in the past week than you have in the past month; about anything and everything. Sometimes, he actually tells you where he goes during the day; off to lectures of his own, another tutoring session or his basically-an-unpaid-job of an internship. In your words, it seems like with the shit they make him do at Alchemex, he may as well be a full employee: with way fewer perks and a distinct paycut. It's almost as if they're paying for my degree, he says with an eye roll, practically hanging off your door frame.

He does that a lot, now: arms drawn upwards to lean from the oak trim. Especially during lazy mornings in - he'll hang on the frame, and move to tug at your heel, waking you up despite fervent protest. Ultimately, it's a kindness and you don't know how to tell him how much you appreciate it; as he wakes you up on time to get to the library in good stead. You're still waiting on that laptop, debating whether or not to bite the bullet; but for now Miguel obliges, letting you borrow his now and then.

He's not nice, you think his tongue is much too sharp for that; but he is kind, giving you some grace you're not too sure you deserve. It's more than what you've been given in a relationship of 4 years, and you don't know how to feel about it.

Well, you do. Your talk on the living room floor not so long ago flipped a switch and all of a sudden you're paying attention to your roommate; really, really looking at him. He is very, very pretty; with a tendency for lingering touches disguised as something else. And you're out of practice: horny, frustrated, stressed. With the way he touches you; a hand on your back to greet you, a squeeze of your shoulder to tease, bare legs across yours on the sofa; it's a lethal combo.

And here you are, headphones on, prepping to take a dildo. Incredibly self-indulgent, but you need it . You don't quite have the emotional stability for a one night stand (you think if someone touches you just right, you'll fall in love), but this dry spell has taken its toll.

It wasn't just after the break up, either. Mismatched libidos had felt like a steady death knoll. Realistically, you knew Jaime was always too tired after a placement, but it didn't make you feel wanted. You just want to be desirable and fucked within an inch of your life – was that too much to ask?

As a result, your toy drawer had grown: vibrators and dildos, clit-suckers and g-spot strokers; crude once said aloud, but all in search of something. With the stress of school and Miguel, Schrodinger's slut ; it's a wonder you haven't cracked it open earlier.

You're on the floor, its purple base suctioned to the hardwood and towels to cushion your knees. Lower half completely exposed, it's an art , porn on your phone to complete the visage. The screen is smaller than that of the laptop you're used to, only providing some stimulation. And so, as you sink down on its silicone length, you can't help but think back to the sofa - and the videos squirrelled away on an incognito tab. Miguel, hunched over and fisting his cock to someone that looks like you; maybe even thinking of you – although the jury's still out, on that one.

But you keep it close to your chest, rub your clit to the thought of it: you're his type, and maybe he'd fuck into you like the man on your screen. Broad, gorgeous shoulders and you wonder how pretty he'd look with scratches littered down his back, or hickeys sucked into skin: lips plump and messy and swollen.

"Oh, fuck," You say it under your breath, knowing that whilst Miguel is out of the house, it still feels odd to put your lips around the pleasure that thinking of him gives.

You speed up, the slap of thighs ringing out into your bedroom. The dildo is around 6 inches, sizeable; but you can't help but wonder how it compares to Miguel's. He might even be bigger; thicker, most definitely; and you bet his cock is just as pretty as he is. Oh fuck, and he'd tease; press into your hole just to snatch it away at the last second, rubbing persistent circles at your clit. You hear his voice in your head, the low grunts and groans you've memorised from all those nights he's spent with other girls.

"Miguel," You're moaning shamelessly now. "...f-fuck, please–"

There must be something electric in the way he fucks: with the litany of girls in and out of his bedroom, what keeps them coming back? He must talk them through it, whispering filth with his plush lips against their ear, and you wonder what he'd say to you. God , you'd give anything to hear it him say, just once, how beautiful he thinks you are; for him to wrap his hand around your neck and pull you close. You want him to fuck you; hard and deep and desperate.

With that, your pace quickens and you gush around the toy. A spasm of limbs, and you're clamping down on the silicone – an orgasm that leaves you breathless and heaving. You convince yourself it's the taboo of it: fucking yourself to the thought of your roommate, after listening to his grunts and groans for the past couple weeks. He started it … thin walls, and all that.

You ignore the want that lays stubborn at the pit of your stomach, riding through stuttering spasms as your orgasm winds down. You're touch starved, that's all, and Miguel's the closest warm body to latch onto. Nothing more, nothing less. Groaning, you shift, picking up your hips to gear up for another round. Just once more, so you know for sure.

Thin walls. The sound leaks into your roommate's bedroom. But with your headphones on, you can't hear the sounds that echo back: Miguel O'Hara, back home early, with an ear pressed to the wall and desperately pumping his cock.

~~~

"I'm not completely convinced, to be honest." You're in Miguel's car, tongue sticking out as you fiddle around with the dials.

His gaze flicks over, and bats your paws off the dashboard. Flopping into your seat, you watch as he turns up the AC and switches the radio, as if reading your mind.

"You really think I'd go through all this trouble?" He scoffs. "Bundle your ass out of the house and drive all the way here to…. do what exactly?"

"Assert dominance in our shared ecosystem." You say it with finality, and he scrunches up his face in confusion.

"...what does that even mean?"

"Like in that nature doc you were watching the other day."

"Well, the point was that spiders aren't hierarchical in the traditional sense. They form colonies that are… quasi-social, if anything, and–" He pauses. "Wait. You were paying attention?"

You shrug. "I thought it was interesting."

"Seriously?"

"...no, not really."

You laugh as he pulls over to park, in a space next to what looks like an apartment complex. It looks way nicer than your place, with sandy brick and hedges that look well kept. Your laughter peters off. Miguel looks decidedly not amused.

He opens the car door and clambers out as you scramble for the seatbelt. To your surprise, he opens the door for you; stretching out a hand for stability as you get out. When you both walk over to the intercom, your palm burns with his touch, and flexes with the memory of it. It's becoming a problem, his hands. You push down the beginnings of a hazy daydream. He presses a panel, waiting for the buzz.

"Lyla? Could you let us up?"

He waves demurely to the camera, and the receiver clicks. A cheery voice rings back.

"...Us? Who's us, Miggy? Did you finally find a girl that puts up with your shit?" Her voice is singsong, teasing. With a smile, you watch as Miguel bristles, speaking into the slick panel.

"My roommate, Jesus, Ly–" He says the next bit a little rushed, turning away slightly as if you still can't hear her loud and clear. "I thought we went through this, you can't keep trying to embarassmeeverytimeI–"

She talks over him towards the end, rapid-fire banter that you can barely make out.

"You never come and visit, except when it's 2am and you need to break into–"

"Once! It was one time! Déjate, ya está bueno ya–"

[Let it go, that's enough now–]

"Let it go? No, no, absolutely not… what is it that you always say? It's the principle –"

"Can you just fucking open the–"

"What's the magic word?"

He sighs, mouthing an apology to you. "Lyla–"

"Magic. Word."

He mumbles. "Please."

"Please what?"

"Please could you open the fucking door."

There's a pause, and rustling over the intercom. The door buzzes open.

In the elevator up, you keep quiet, trying your hardest not to burst out laughing. Miguel is visibly brooding; arms crossed and brow furrowed.

"Don't." He says, with a pout you almost think is cute. Almost.

"I'm trying really, really hard not to." You put your hands up, as if to surrender. "... Miggy."

"Fuck off." And then, a little softer.

"...I told you I have friends."

~~~

You leave it at that until you're in Lyla'a apartment, when she opens and ushers you in. She looks exactly the way she sounds: pretty, mousy features, with her hair in short, choppy layers. She's bundled up into a plush white robe; heart-shaped sunglasses sliding down the tip of her nose.

Miguel breezes past her, towards the murmuring voices you can just about make out in the front room.

"Lovely to see you too, Miguel." It's under her breath, but when she turns towards you there's a twinkle in her eye.

You introduce yourself, and she pulls you into a tight hug.

"I know," She says. It's ominous, but her voice is light and airy. When you separate, she flashes a wide smile. "Lyla. It's nice to put a face to a name."

"Uhh, sorry. What?" She ushers you further into her apartment as you speak, confused.

"Oh, Miggy talks about you all the time. Complaining , mostly, but in that way he gets when he's trying really, really hard to pretend he doesn't care. Like, he texted me yesterday and–"

"Thaaat's enough." You feel hands on your shoulders, and all of a sudden, Miguel is steering you away from her grip. You stumble into her living room, so bright and airy your eyes have to adjust to the light that floods in. Looking around, her apartment is gorgeous; a spacious open plan, floor-to-ceiling windows with a prime view, and lush furniture. Everything about it screams expensive – especially in comparison to your paltry place. Maybe the shock is visible on your face, but you're in awe. She can't be much older than Miguel, right? She looks about the same age, mid-twenties, not too far-removed from college… and it isn't quite adding up.

"How can she afford this? That's what you're thinking." There's a voice on the sofa that makes you blink. A young man with messy brown hair, a set jaw and 5 o'clock shadow calls out to you in between mouthfuls of pizza. "Lyla's… mmhgh… suuper fuckin' rich… mmfgh… that's how."

It's then that you notice there are other people here, sprawled out on the sofa set; boxes of takeout on the side tables next to them. Of course Lyla's rich: only 20-somethings with money to spare have matching sofas.

She's like Beetlejuice, or the Candyman, and pops up next to you when her name's said.

"I work in tech! With a cute little job on Wall Street, and a part-time one white hat hacking." She clarifies. " Ethical hacking."

She giggles like she's told a joke somewhere, and you nod – still not quite understanding.

"...and some side gigs that aren't as ethical." A blond haired man next to Mouthful-Of-Pizza pipes up. "When are you going to introduce us, Miguel?"

He's grumbling in the kitchen area, digging through the shelves for something. He returns with a bag of chips and dip in a container, flopping onto the zebra print throw pillows. Distracted, he waves a hand around the group noncommittally.

"Uhh, Peter, Ben, Lyla." He gestures to you, saying your name, and then to himself; tearing open the bag at the same time. "-and Miguel. All done"

"My turn for questions, now," Miguel says, pointing at Lyla, looking at the boys to his side. "Is she…?"

"...super high? Most definitely." Lyla giggles at Ben's words, for good measure.

"...right. Peter Parker, nice to meet you." He throws a thumb to the back of the sofa, where you notice a little mop of red curls peeking out. "And this is my little Mayday."

Peals of laughter erupt from behind him, and you notice grubby hands with a death grip to the cushion rest. Miguel leaps up, rushing to her side to help her up its back.

"Ayyy dios mio." He scoops her up carefully, "Buenas, Arañita."

Mayday is on his lap now, a little toddler of about 1 or 2, snaking herself around to hug Miguel's chest. She is certifiably the cutest thing you've ever seen: gap-toothed and giggly, with a smatter of freckles like someone's flicked a paintbrush across her nose. And with the way Miguel melts, you can die happy, knowing that you've seen the impossible: Miguel O'Hara, cooing and fussing over the little girl.

"Arañita?" You ask, to no one in particular.

"Itsy-bitsy spider." . ..is the sing-song, choral response from everyone but Miguel. They're mimicking his tone of voice, and he raises his head from May, looking around.

"I don't sound- "

"You do, dude." Peter sighs, tickling the little red head on the tummy; smiling as she collapses into bright laughter. "I don't have a nickname, and I've known you waaay longer than she has."

Miguel covers her tiny little ears, and says, "Eres un pendejo, Parker . "

[you're a dipshit, Parker]

The scraggly man sticks his tongue out in response, and May pulls at his hair for good measure. He yelps, and Miguel passes her over to her Dad. The scene is funny, for sure, but you feel it's warmth more than anything. God, you can tell they've loved and laughed with each other for years; the kind of friendship you'd kill to have.

"We just need whatever's left of her laptop, Lyla," He's blunt, batting away long forgotten chips and dip. "...and then we'll get going. Wish I could stay longer, Arañita, but I've got some work to finish off."

May makes grabby hands at him, and you melt. Who knows how Miguel can stay strong in the face of her big, round eyes.

He gets up to stand next to you, arms crossed. The height difference is stark: his tall, solid frame towering over everyone else. It seems like an intimidation tactic, but you know him just well enough to tell: he's trying not to be swayed by puppy eyes and promises of food.

"You just got here, Miggy." Lyla sighs. "We're going over prep for Jess', and we'll be two minutes, I swear."

"Oh?" His eyebrows light up. "I knew it! You were being evasive on the group chat, and Pete wasn't returning my calls…"

Huffing, he clasps his hand around yours, ready to storm out. "This is an ambush. A goddamn setup!"

"Wait, Miguel, I need my-"

"I'll pick it up later for you, okay?" It's said like an aside, so soft only you can hear it. With his hand around yours, it certainly feels more intimate than it should. And it seems like he realises a little too late, dropping your hand as your faces are mere inches away.

"Um, we should… we should go."

You look past him to the faces blinking at you guys, on the sofa. A pause, and then you're gulping down stubborn feelings to ask a question.

"Jess' ? Is there a party, or something?"

Lyla nods. "Yeah, and Miguel's meant to be picking up cake."

The man in question pinches his nose. "I can pick up the cake just fine. It's the whole… going to a party bit I'm not too keen on."

"Come onnn, you know Jess would love it."

"She'd love to blackmail me with some dumb shit I did drunk, that's for sure."

"It's her birthday, hardass ." Peter whispers that last bit, covering little May's ears like before. "She can have a little blackmail, as a treat."

"You're gonna say no to a surprise party ?" Ben echoes, shaking his head dramatically.

"A surprise birthday?" You light up. "Miguel, you have to go."

His stony demeanor cracks, for a moment. You latch onto it, hellbent on wearing him down. He's always got his laptop out doing work, or cracking open a little notebook to prep a lab. When he's not at home, he's at that internship, or tutoring, or planning a tutoring session. Work, work, work; and you'll be dammed if you let him rot away in a little cage of his own machinations.

"Come on, Miggy." You watch him bristle, prying at that little crack in the surface. This has to be done with finesse: present a challenge, and watch him scramble to prove you wrong. "You're telling me a couple of hours at a party's too much for you? That's it? "

"That's not–"

"S'what it sounds like to me." You shrug, a little smile on your face. The aim is to look as smug as possible; and it seems to be working.

His jaw shifts, annoyed. Lyla catches on, giving you a crazed smile.

"Even your roommate's gonna come." She says, an arm linked in yours.

"I am?" She gives you a little dig, and you're spluttering. "Y-Yeah, I am!"

You can see him fight with his own ego; but it's a one-sided affair.

"Fine. " He strains. "Two hours, max. And then I'm gone."

Lyla gives you a squeeze, and then wraps you both up in a hug he desperately tries to fight off. Ben slots around you guys, and Peter's last to join, with Mayday squealing on his shoulders.

Eventually, you get what's left of your laptop: a little thumb drive with as much as Lyla could save. You'd thanked her profusely, of course; trying to slither out of her vice grip of a hug, as best you could. She's absolutely batshit, the good kind; cryptic, and strange, but with a lot of heart. She makes you wonder, and they all do; just how did they become friends with Miguel? How do they fit?

The man himself seems a little different, as if reinvigorated by being around friends. In fact, you catch him smiling to himself on the drive home. It's sweet; to see a different side of him around people he's clearly comfortable with. If only for a little while, he sheds the heavy weight he seems to carry around.

Around the house, you notice he seems lighter – humming to himself whilst cooking dinner. That very day, you watch the little sway of hips as he stirs a pot; headphones in, singing under his breath. He can't sing for shit, of course, and he'd kill you if you ever uttered a word; but it's a sight you commit to memory, not knowing when next he'll be in such a good mood.

There's still the question of a new laptop in the air, but you feel more settled by the events of the day. You're a little less fucked school-wise, you've got a party to look forward to, and potentially a drunk Miguel to make fun of. He goes to bed early; and you can hear the quiet drone of a podcast from the other side of the wall. He drifts off to the sweet, dulcet tones of Top Ten Genetic Precursors for Early Onset Dementia; one of his favourites, you've determined.

All is well, for now. A tentative truce, and maybe, just maybe: you're finally friends with your roommate.

~~~

There's something about dramatic irony that seems to smack you across the face, every time.

You've come to somewhat of a understanding with your prickly roommate, and the stream of women in his bed seem to slow down, for a bit. He's hot, he's a whore; but he's sweet, with an eye for detail. He can read you with a scary amount of accuracy. Antsy and hungry from a long day? He leaves you scratching your head at his clairvoyance when you come home, chucking you a hot water bottle and a warm meal. You go to bed with a full belly, cramps abated.

He's still a prick, of course. Sarcastic comments, and a massive grump – but you've learnt to deal with that. Just a couple of days after a seemingly settled week; what you can't wrap your head around is the pounding music from next door, at fuck-off-o'clock . He shouldn't be awake, let alone interrupting your late night study session.

You're pissed, leaping from your desk to pound at his door. You're thudding towards his room, ready to deliver a well-deserved verbal lashing, and the door just… swings open. Empty; there's a window ajar and music pumping from speakers. Bachata and cheesy 90s R&B; which sounds suspiciously like his sex playlist.

Yes, he has a sex playlist. And it really has no business to sound as good as it does.

Nevertheless, you're resolute. If he's managed to sneak someone, at this hour, you decide he's going to get more than a stern talking to.

There's clattering in the kitchen, and you whip around; half-expecting the giggle of another girl. When you walk in, it's just Miguel, rummaging through cupboards: a half-naked thief in the night.

"Miguel?"

He pops his head up from a cabinet, with a half-eaten piece of bread in his mouth. Caught red-handed, you suppose; and he gives you a little smile.

"S'everyfin' – mmmfggh –" He scarfs the rest of it down. "Everything okay?"

You squint. "No. Not really."

He chuckles, a slight rasp at the edges of his voice. Dickhead – what exactly is so funny?

"You can't have your music so fucking loud, not when I'm studying. It's the middle of the night and–"

Dressed in nothing but a pair of gray sweats, he's busying himself with a sandwich on the counter; clattering around noisily like he doesn't have full control of his limbs. Which is…. weird, admittedly. You'd trust Miguel to slice a grape with a machete – his dexterity is usually unmatched. Not that you'd made a habit of staring at his hands, or anything.

"Are you even listening to me?"

He nods, attempting to keep a straight face, but the faux solemnity does nothing to hide that droop of eyelids and slump of his shoulders. You get closer, pushing him to face you properly.

"Oh, fuck," His eyes are a little red, hair messy and windswept. "Are you… high? "

Miguel O'Hara? High? You'd never thought you'd live to see the day, honestly. His eyes go wide, dropping his sandwich dramatically. And then he's got a big hand at your shoulder, pulling you closer with a finger pressed to his lips.

"Shhh! You can't-" Now, he gets close, whispering your name like he's saying something he shouldn't. "You can't tell anyone."

With the way he says your name it makes you light-headed. It's slow and careful, as if he's testing the way it feels spilling from his lips. And maybe, with the way he smiles, it feels good; tastes sweet wrapped around his tongue.

"I won't." You breathe, and then you're both giggling.

There's something about the way he looks at you, peering under heavy lashes; basically eye-fucking you in the space of your tiny kitchen. You feel bare in a little t-shirt and sleep shorts; suddenly exposed.

"You should…" He starts, cocking his head ever so slightly. "Join me, chula. "

It's soft; sinful, even; said as he coaxes you between his body and the kitchen counter.

You don't trust your voice enough to answer, legs already shaky, so you nod. Slight, at first; and then with a little more gusto as the idea of him and you on his sheets – intimate, alone – creeps in. He stretches out a hand, and you take it; led to his bedroom like a scene you've seen before. All those girls before you; led to the dragon's lair like damsels in a fairytale. Except in this one, you suppose, you're not waiting for a knight in shining armour to save you.

He sits you down on the bed, passing you a freshly rolled blunt. Passing it to your lips , more specifically; hand on your chin as he brings the lighter up to its end. Even prettier up close, all you can do is watch the press of plump lips, and pink tongue sticking out as he concentrates. As he leans in, there's a hand on your bare thigh. You inhale, deeply, and he hums with content.

"Good girl," He purrs, prying it from your lips to take a slow drag.

"You're a bad influence." You murmur, watching as his eyes flutter shut.

"You need to relax," He leans back, arm drawn lazily upwards. "This is helping."

"That's not–" Oh. You feel it now, a steady haze rolling over limbs.

Miguel quirks up an eyebrow, amused.

You repeat, slowly, "You're a bad influence ."

"Does it feel good?" You pause, trying to ignore his low tone; and the steady blaze that it ignites within you. Dragging your eyes to meet his, you see it: want, lust, something heavy that swirls behind them.

You nod, itching for another pull. As if psychic, he gestures for you to come closer; and your lips almost slot against his. He exhales, and you inhale; in the closest thing you've come to a kiss in months. It makes you ache for just a little more contact, for those pretty hands to slot between your thighs and–

"Is this all I need to do for some quiet around here?" He asks, lilting. If only he'd stop talking; interrupting your fantasy with that stupid grin of his.

You're shaking your head, laughing at the sheer gall .

"You're fucking someone new every week, O'Hara. Loud. Who was it the other day? Cathy, Kayla –"

"Sita, actually." He has a strange expression on his face. "And we didn't fuck. Just going over lecture notes."

"Sorry . Must have gotten mixed up with the half-dozen other girls in and out of here. Our apartment's not a brothel , Miggy."

He rolls his eyes, handing you the remnants of the blunt.

"...s'not my fault there isn't anyone fucking you right."

You scoff. "How would you know?"

"Thin walls. " It's cryptic. What the fuck does that mean?

You take a careful drag, and hand the blunt back – trying your hardest not to strangle him. It must show on your face as you tussle with the thought, because Miguel is staring; unabashedly, unashamedly. When you notice, it throws you off.

"... what?" Ready to defend yourself, you huff.

He shrugs. His expression is soft, reminding you of that night, not long ago.

"You look like a painting."

You practically short circuit. You've been complimented before, of course. Hot, by men trying to get into your pants. Pretty, sometimes. Beautiful, the other times. Whether it's been sincere, you don't know – but you're smart enough to not overthink it. It's hard enough to live a life, as it is; and you'd rather not be bogged down by what others think, how you look whilst doing it. And yet, you feel your body betray you; a steady bloom of heat at your heart, like you've been stabbed. So deep, it spreads like blood on the front of a blouse. Like a painting, he says. And you like the way he says it; how it sounds spilling from his lips.

Its implication sits heavy. Like a painting : hand-crafted, silken, soft –

He blinks, the crack of a smile on his face. And it ends in a fit of giggling, if you can even call it that.

"Stop fucking with me." You grumble, and he thinks the way your face scrunches up with disdain is cute. There's probably an implication there he should unpack in therapy – how he likes it when you shout and put him in his place – but he's much too high to care.

"M'not-" He quiets down, flattens his face into something resembling sobriety and gravitas. He gets a little closer, so close you can feel the heat of his body and flutter of lashes. With wide, dilated pupils, he stills - and it really doesn't help that he looks so pretty.

"Can't stop thinking about you, hermosa." His voice is low, slurred with the weight of the blunt he's taken careful drags of. Every word makes you feel hazy, drawn in by his lips. " Fuck, all the time."

"Hear your laugh in my dreams, sometimes." He circles your bare thigh carefully, without breaking eye contact. With a thumb on your chin, he brings you closer, and closer still. Gently, you close your eyes, expecting the press of his lips against yours…

…instead, you get a puff of smoke for your troubles. Reeling, you push him away. He collapses on the bed in a laughing fit.

"... now I'm fucking with you." Rumbling laughter, and you've got the wherewithal to be embarrassed – hand still resting on his bare chest.

A little cruelly, you push down, giving him an elbow to the ribs for good measure and he splutters with surprise – laughing all the same.

"Asshole." You slur, and he grabs your arm to pull you onto the covers with him. You paw at him wildly, wrestling amongst the table of sheets. It's not a fair fight, not really; the wide expanse of his bare chest feels solid, and he's probably got more muscle in his pinky toe than you do in your whole body. Miguel is strong , but plays along regardless, pinning you to the bed with his hands around your wrists - but lets you turn him over just as quick. You're both laughing, the blunt long forgotten but its haze blurring the lines. You straddle his middle, hips flush against his and he keens; head back and cheeks flushed.

"Fuck," It's quiet, said as he writhes below you and you try to pin his hands above his head. Maybe it's the weed, but he lets you: eyes low, breath steady. And you stay like that, for a moment; bodies laid against one another.

You don't know who starts it: the slow roll of hips, the swell of his cock bucking up against your heat. Regardless, you welcome it, letting the heat build up with the pressure at your clit. Your hips sway and all Miguel can do is watch.

Lips parted, head back; and you set a steady rhythm that washes over you both.

Humping against one another, you get more desperate and drag your hands to his chest for purchase. Underneath you, Miguel practically purrs – one hand on your waist and the other clutching yours at his chest.

"So, so pretty…" He sighs into it, wide palm pawing at your ass, shamelessly grabbing handfuls. By now, he's rock hard; and you feel him throb through the thin material of his sweats.

"Fuck, I can't–" You moan, ragged, the roll of your hips gaining speed.

Miguel coos, bringing a hand to your chin to pull you closer to the crook of his neck.

"Too fast, hermosa. S-Slow it down for me." He grips your waist, forcing the pace to slow. Your hips stutter against his, delicious pressure making you cry out. And, God, you're close; pleasure building up at your gut.

"Ohhh, fuck. Just like that, just like–" It's soft, whispered between the press of bodies like a prayer: reverent, intimate, a slew of garbled English and Spanish into the shell of your ear that goes straight to your pussy.

"A-Ahi, ahi–"

[t-there, there–]

Plush lips brush against your cheek, and you try so hard to not float away - with only his words to keep you tethered.

"... no pares lo que sea que estes haciendo–ohh-fuck–"

[don't stop what you're doing, oh fuck–]

The coil at the base of your stomach snaps, and you arch into his touch as he does the same. Miguel spills into his sweats, heaving with the effort. He can feel the clench of your pussy above, and he chases it in the aftermath; craning his neck to finally get a kiss. Limbs heavy, you still manage to swerve so his kisses land at your jaw. He's grateful for the contact anyway it comes and sucks careful hickies into the skin: at your neck, your collarbone, and anywhere else he can reach.

You sink into it, curl up on his chest like a housecat; his hands wandering the gentle slope of your back under your shirt.

Limbs heavy, you pry yourself from his hands ever so slightly. He strains to follow you up, snapping back into the sheets like an elastic band. Still, he kneads at your flesh - bare thighs spilling from your shorts.

" Miguel," You whisper, hand travelling past his neck to cradle his jaw. "Need more…"

You punctuate that last word with a roll of your hips. Wanton, conflicted; he groans .

"It's late, chula. " He says it slowly, hesitant – like he can't believe the words are coming out of his mouth. He's still high, lost in the whispy remnants of that blunt. You've never known weed to make someone more responsible, and you flop to his side, a little childishly.

Miguel makes sure to keep a hand wrapped around your waist, dragging his other knuckles up your exposed tummy so that it rides up to the swell of your tits.

"And you've got that 9am."

You cover your face with the span of your hands, grumbling. From between the gaps in your fingers, you repeat,

" ...and I've got that 9am ."

He traces lazy circles in your flesh. Maybe it's the blunt, or the afterglow of an orgasm; but you make him laugh, a gentle ache replacing the creak and shudder of gears.

"Idiot." He says, kissing it into your skin. And he burns from the touch, fleeting; like the warm flame from paper lanterns, or the flicker of a lighter against cool night air.

Miguel taglist (1): @d1lf-loverrr, @afro-hispwriter @ilovemiguelohara @weedxgirlx420 @ladydovahkiin180 @aaliyuh3 @sweetanimebakery @vvitcxen @rosecoloredlenses708 @daikondal @magikmina @impettywhenyouare @alonelygirlsuicidenote @plushyplants @javi0ca @rheeves @starrfruit @nikirikii @marsbars09 @foxglove-grove @mimooyi @crosshairclown @dead-by-light @kynamitedessert @naarra @wanderlustingcastaway @sagejin @cookielovesbook-akie @tangerineloverrr @gobblegluckgluckgod @wolfiepirate @jxxey3 @ebrysteria @elliemm @manchuria @youngghostpeachslime @weasleybuns

@ilovemuppets @vauriz @bonbyon @aimno256 @ancientbeing10 @tvije @venus1224idkpleaze @neteyamsbulletwound @chickenjefferson-blog @maki-z @jasjasthings @aiyaaayei @hyp-oh-critical @tea-earl-grey-thot @sunset-euphoria @moonsio @akiras-key@szaplsdropthealbum@levanneisdumb @naiya-patel17 @Serostapesweat @strawberrymiguel @yumeeesss @errorundyne-exe @spear-bitch @redsoleily @marsissoswag @slezhara @ye4gerzz @adlct515 @nanam1 @indigocookie @cincocosas-blog @starguiders @path0logicalpeoplepleaser@funkyfishy@whoreloll@eugeab@tarjapearce@maddielikesmoths@egotaestical

#miguel o'hara x reader #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara #miguel o hara x reader #kat_writes😼#rigor mortis 😼#spiderman 2099 #miguel o'hara smut #spiderman 2099 x reader #atsv x reader #atsv fic

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noowayybroo · 5 months

Text

Give the dog a bone (Part 2) (NSFW)

Characters: Dogman!Leon Kennedy, F!Reader (Part 1 is SFW GN! Reader)

PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS: Smut and NSFW, Young people DNI. Dogman Leon. Dead dove IG?? p in v. Porn with some plot. Reader is female (sorry) breeding, pregnancy mention, (these tags might be all wrong I havent started writing yet) Leon and reader are initially friends / colleagues. Set after RE4. Lazy writing because I'm too busy and hate writing no cap. dogman anatomy. Hunnigan exists but is irrelevant. Nipple/ breast play / suckling. F Receiving oral. this fic is really slow and boring, shower, Leon washes, you, then you guys fuck. It's like slowburn but like it's not a burn just a bemusing fizzle. ..... knotting. LEON GETS A BIT MEAN AT THE END BUT HES STILL KINDA GENTLE AND ITS NOT EXACTLY CONSENT BUT I THINK IF READER SAID NO HE WOULD STOP LMAO YOU FEEL??? some name calling like "slut" toward the end, mention of puppies and brain numbing and stuff.

SORRY GUYS ITS A LONG ONE I DIDNT KNOW WHAT TO WRITE SO IT JUST GOT LIKE LONGER N LONGER AS I PANICKED.

I feel so gross for writing this. I'm so happy you don't know who I am.

Rushing under the shelter of your roof, you fumble with your keys in the lock so you can move to make room for Leon on the doorstep. Leon hadn't had an umbrella this time, and the both of you were sopping wet, not able to run home fast enough.

Panting, you finally stumble through your own front-door, Leon crowding onto the doorstep behind you to cower from the rain. You turn back to face him, and your eyes are snagged by his own piercing ones as they gaze attentively at you. Cold rain soaks and matts the short fur on his ears, and drips down his dark fringe onto his face as his wide eyes only leave you to search your hallway.

Recently, Leon had taken to breathing heavily through his mouth when physically exerted. His jaw lazily hung open, revealing unusually sharp teeth and what seemed to be a much longer tongue as he panted. Occasionally, it would flick up to lick at his lips or fangs, but he was bashful about the matter. Catching your gaze, he slams his mouth shut and seems to bully himself into breathing through his nose.

He looks away, too, glancing past you into your home, desperately avoiding contact with your possibly judging eyes. His lids hang low as he adjusts to the bright light you flick on and his ears sit low to his head. Now you're aware of his tail, you can see it straight though his sweat-pants, though he may try hide it. The thick, bushy, and perhaps a little damp appendage clings to his leg in silent apology as he awkwardly glances between you and the interior of your home.

He eyes the space in which your hallway becomes a room; a place he'd never before set foot. There's a subtle hint in his eyes. They're almost pleading, puppy dog eyes as he gazes at this uncharted territory, but he refuses to look you in the eyes, as if he wouldn't dare ask you to allow him into your space. Rain hammering just centimetres behind him, still splashing at his back, you decide it'd be rude to just send him on his way now. Besides, you could do with some company. He wasn't just man's best friend now, he was yours.

laugh rn

"Leon, I don't want you getting sick." His ears perk up, head tilting to the side again and mouth slightly ajar. With the warm light from your home flooding past you, you probably did appear slightly angelic to him in this moment. His mouth opens, just as he's about to protest to save face, but you cut him off. "You don't have an umbrella, and we don't have work tomorrow. Why don't you come in and dry off?" His alert expression eases a little and he gives you a sheepish smile, bowing his head a little.

"You sure? It's fine, I really can just go-"

"Leon, come here." you giggle, stepping further into your home after you've kicked off your shoes and hung up your coat. Your words his command, Leon eagerly follows you, but makes sure not to move far from the door until he's removed his shoes and hoodie, placing them respectfully. Shy and gentle in his actions, his posture is bowed again, watching you nervously for any signs of discomfort. He was aware of the position he was putting you in. He knew he could scare, or even worse, hurt you, and he was very careful to prevent it.

You'd seen, over the last few weeks, Leon's tail slowly become more long and bushy. You'd watched the ears on his head darken a little in colour, and you'd noticed his nails and hands appearing a little larger and stronger over time. Whilst there were some changes in mannerisms and his personality you could pick on, there were things you simply did not know:

As he sat with you, Leon could smell you. He could identify your emotions and even that you were about to get ill before it hit you. He could hear your heart quicken and slow in different situations. He felt so connected to you now, he felt so nosey, because he could sense things he wasn't meant to be able to pick up on. He knew things he wouldn't dream of asking you. Leon swallows thickly as he watches you. His newfound primal senses kept him on his toes. He began to see you more of a partner, though he tried to fight it. Whilst his change kept him fearing virginity, a gnawing part of him identified you as the one for him.

You were the one he wanted. He wanted to test his new senses on you. He wanted to display his newfound strength to you, to impress and protect you. He wanted to be close to you. He wanted to use his newfound lust to please you. Woah, woah stop there. He shakes his head and looks away from you, face blank. He wasn't going to just take you. Sure, he wanted you, but he was no monster. All you had to do was say no, and he'd leave, tail tucked between his legs. Just the thought had him cowering in the corner.

Lost in his thoughts, in your scent, in your home, Leon realises how wrong all of this is now.. He can't have these thoughts about you, his friend. His best friend. This must be such a betrayal to you. It would terrify you, wouldn't it? You'd hate him. He should leave now and never let you find out how he feels.

Despite his hesitance and nerves, something within Leon rips his thoughts away from rationality as the scent and warmth of your home bombards him. Door now closed behind him, you surround, and he can't help but sniff the air. Addicted to the information that flowed into him. He could tell what your last few meals had been. He knew where your bedroom was, he could smell your exhaustion, and he could sense your confusion as you watched him stand, pressed against the door, turning eagerly, looking around, and consuming the smell of you. Then, his brows furrow as he notices your glare and he freezes.

Eventually, you get him to follow you into your home. You lay some warm blankets down on the couch and get things ready for a comfy night in as Leon explores your home. Before you can finish, though, you decide you have to make him more comfortable. With some encouragement, he removes his sweatpants and shirt and you replace them with the largest set of pyjamas you have. He's grateful, his fluffy tail wagging and standing to attention as you tend to him and dry it off.

Just as you're patting Leon's face dry, something comes over him, and he shakes his head hard, flinging water all over you and nearby parts of your home. He goes still, eyes wide, realising his mistake.

"Y/N, fuck, I am so sorry-" he stammers, reaching out to place his hands on your shoulders to ground one of the two of you. His hands are wet too and further soak you, and upon realising this he jumps away, tail cemented to his legs as he backs away, eventually calming down to the sound of your soft giggles and insistence that it is in fact alright.

You leave Leon on the couch with some snacks as you'd both eaten at work, and after popping to your room to freshen up and get dressed yourself, you return to him. His eyes never leave you from the second you leave your room to that when you sit next to him on the couch, just touching. His gaze was so prompt, so intense that you wondered if he'd somehow been watching you while you were in your room.

Hours pass of you watching your favourite films, as Leon had insisted he wouldn't have it another way, and the both of you have drifted significantly closer to each other over time. The sky was pitch black outside, and, whilst it had stopped raining, there was no way you'd send him home now. No, you were going to be a little selfish, you thought to yourself as Leon leaned up against you, snuggled into your side, nose buried in one of the blankets from your bed as he held it to his face.

His tail had been non-stop wagging for hours, eyes wide as he watched the screen, occasionally glancing back at you, checking up on your expression. His ears sat flat to his head, content, and he only freed his face to give a gentle yawn. You'd never been this close to Leon before, but even now, you thought something else had changed about him. Maybe it was the soft whimpers and whines he very quietly gave off or the way he juddered and shook with excitement beside you. Perhaps it was his smell... It definitely was strong, but not unpleasant.

Perhaps it was the way he lifted his head as you thought, ears perked up and turned to you, as if he could sense you thinking about him. He watches you, face only inches from yours as he sniffs the air softly. This time, he doesn't glance back at the screen, he just watched you, eyes locked onto yours until you duck away bashfully.

"S-sorry..." he mumbles, realising his mistake before leaning his head down on your shoulder like your very own pet dog might do. His face is almost touching your cheek, his breath hot on your neck as his gentle huffs turn into intrigued sniffs. He proceeds to investigate you further, squirming a little to get closer to you, one arm holding you close as he more-or-less lays on you.

You certainly notice the change, his warm front pressed up against you, pinning you down slightly. Yet, glancing down at his face makes you feel as though it's all unintentional. He seems so content and happy, in a world of his own, gazing up at you as if you'd just given him a home. "L-leon.... are you alright?" you whisper softly, watching as, again, his ears stand to attention.

"I'm... I'm uhhh..." he mumbles, lost in his thoughts, or lack thereof, as he almost purrs deep in his throat. He's half way through yet another greedy, deep breath of your scent when he realises that maybe you're not enjoying this as much as he is. His eyes shoot open and he scrambles to use his arms to relieve some of the weight on you "I-I'm sorry... Are you alright?" "I'm fine" you whisper, gently cupping his face, trying, and succeeding, to soothe him "just tell me how you feel, please?"

He pauses for a moment, eyes fluttering shut either to allow him to think, or in response to your touch. He nuzzles into your hand for a while before humming "I think I'm really hyper..."

Before now, throughout the night, you and Leon had been talking about his changes. He'd opened up to you a little about how worried he was. Before Leon went to Spain, you'd spoken to him about his issues with dating.

He told you that, to his dismay, many of the women who approached him were either spies or simply deterred by how busy and dangerous his work was. He had confided in you that now, now he was somewhat freakish, now he had the mind of a dog, and the partial anatomy of one, nobody would approach him.

You could do nothing but simply assure him that that was not the case. You told him he was wonderful, you reminded him that he was a hero, and you assured him that anybody who got to know him would swoon in an instant. And then, the conversation died there.

Until now.

There was a short silence once Leon, with your guidance, had slowly relaxed back against you. "Y/N?" He sighs softly against you.

"....Yeah?"

"W..." there's a silence again, but you know not to push him. Instead, you gently pat his shoulder, soothing him into visibly easing up. His muscles relax over you and eventually, he speaks again "Would you...?" he whimpers, burying his face in your side to hide his pretty eyes from you.

"...Would you... like me?" he whispers, hands instinctively cupping you as he wraps you into a firm hug "Would you... mind me?" Taken aback, you pause for a moment.

Was he asking if you'd date him, despite his condition, hypothetically? Sure you would, he was your best mate, and you kinda liked him. You didn't believe he had a bad bone in his body. So, you decide to be honest, thinking nothing more will come of it. You gently continue to pat his head.

"Yeah, Leon, of course, you're the best" you hum absent-mindedly. Again, it's not like you were lying, but you didn't really expect him to go for you. You just stayed honest with the hopes of making him feel a little better about himself. And... perhaps it worked, because suddenly, he shuffles further up you, tail thumping loudly against the couch as he begins to nose into your neck shyly. He nuzzles into you, sniffing softly, thrilled, tickling your neck and making you giggle.

"h-hey!" You exclaim shyly, "quit that!" you try and pat him to encourage him to leave off, but he only gets more insistent and playful.

"Y-you mean it?" he chuffs into you ""You like me?" his words are a muffled mess, disappearing into your jaw as he noses further along it. Once you give in, confirming with a gentle nod and a breathy 'yes', it's all over. He's on his knees above you, pinning you down chest-to-chest. Occasionally, his tongue darts out slightly, puppy-lapping at your skin, soon becoming a trail of hungry, loving kisses as he approaches your ear.

He moved so quickly, nipping your lobe softly, playfully before burying his head into you bashfully. He snuggled close, happy, soon becoming restless again and leaning away to gaze in awe at you. The black of his pupil devours all that innocent blue you're so used to seeing stare back at you so often, and the red flush in his cheeks is oh-so-pretty.

You feel strange. Guilty, almost. You knew something was affecting him but it's not like he was drunk or anything. This change of heart was permanent, it'd live with him forever, and so, probably, he wouldn't try and take it back in a hurry. Just to stop him doing so even if he tried, you grin mischievously "Yes, Leon. I like you." you laugh.

He dives into you, kissing your lips with soft insistence until you let him in, at which point, the taste of you drives him crazy. Greedily, he licks into your mouth, repeatedly alternating again and again between sweet kisses and hot, needy groans as he devours you. He rests his weight on his knees as he leans over you, hands caressing your sides lovingly, softly squeezing and feeling whatever he can reach, loving the sensation of you.

You thought it'd be absolutely gross to have a grown man lick you. All of your instincts, and probably all of your friends, would tell you that is NOT how you kiss, and that this man has no skill. However, this man was Leon Kennedy, and... something about it in this scenario just felt right. (He was a dogman now LMAO)

You sigh, in much more of a cuddly, wholesome mood than his energetic, frisky one. Wrapping your arms around him, you pull him close. He groans softly again as you begin to kiss him back, massaging his back and scalp with your hands and writhing your body into him.

More desperate, whining a little, he cuddles into you, gyrating hips moulding with yours in desperate search of friction. Leon moves on instinct above you, gentle but persistent as he unknowingly moves to feel as much of you as possible.

Large and strong hands roam your smaller form beneath him, one gently kneading the soft flesh of your breast through any clothing that remained, whilst the other cupped your face with intimacy. He couldn't take it anymore, being nestled in your warm neck where he couldn't see you. Sitting back on his haunches, his weight on your hips, Leon admired the sight of you below him, still unable to tear his hands from your soft breasts.

Realisation hits him eventually, and his heavy lids and blissed-out expression suddenly fade a little.

"Oh my God, Y/N" He whines, throwing his head back, sighing as he looks back down at you again. "I'm so sorry, you're just so-" Despite his words, he can't seem to break away from you, one hand still kneading at your flesh, teasing at your nipple, the location of which he's deduced from your breaths and sighs. He takes one of your hands in his and holds it close to himself, treasuring your touch. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I didn't ask you-" he blabbers out, clearly feeling guilty.

His insistent squeezing stops for once as he waits for a reply, pleading eyes watching you with bated breath. He fell still, heavy breaths parting his lips, thick tail stilled and resting on your leg. You knew Leon would take 'no', for an answer, at least you really hoped he would, but really, you just wanted to see how far he'd go.

All it took was your soft smile and another nod, before his face lit up, eyes wide, ears perked and tail beating at your legs. He buries his face back into your neck, softly kissing and nibbling and licking at any exposed flesh. His body-weight cages you once more. Smothering warmth. An arm reaches down to position your legs, encouraging you to wrap them around him as he presses his core into yours greedily.

Throwing a blanket over the both of you to keep you warm, Leon proceeds to work his way gradually down towards your breasts, leaving goose bumps and saliva in his wake. Initially, he tries to nuzzle at your garments, absent-mindedly willing himself beneath them, but when that doesn't work, he has to tug them down, pouting and grumbling until he finally removes them in order to proceed. Despite his desperation, the movement is smooth and caring, and he further tugs the blanket over you to keep you warm.

The further Leon lowers himself across your body, the more needy and whiny he becomes, drunk on you. His face never leaves your hot skin, breath and lashes tickling you as he glances lovingly between your body and face. Once Leon reaches your breasts, deft and large hands finally reach them once more. He traces the edges of them before kneading them together, toying with them, admiring their unique shape and softness. He gropes and admires them before longing kisses become needy suckling.

He groans deep in his throat, body collapsing onto yours as his lips latch onto one nipple, tongue tracing over the sensitive bud. Eyes fluttered shut, Leon hums and whines as he kneads your flesh absent-mindedly, only responding to you. Depending on your precious sounds and expressions, he either works harder on you, slows down, or switches nipples entirely until you're sighing and writhing deliciously below him.

Leon seemed like a master to you. He knew exactly how to make you feel good, and whilst slightly rough, did not hurt you at all. He was loving, and you believed just how much he wanted you with every desperate grind of his hips against you. He was perfect and sweet, even when desperately horny.

In his head, however, he was a nervous wreck. He loved this, he loved you, you enthralled you, just by laying there, and each time he glanced up at you, his body shivered with excitement. You were perfect, and whilst his usual introverted self would like to observe you from a safe distance, afraid of upsetting or hurting you, his mind had become more feral, more primal. He wanted to please you, to impress you, all because he loved you. Undeterred by his painfully hard cock, he continued to worship you, part of him afraid you'd never let him do it again.

You squirm against his hips, just getting comfortable, but it reminds Leon that much, much more interesting parts of you exist. With some soft, parting kisses to your breasts and a breathy "Fuck, you're so perfect" he moves down, gently kissing and gripping at your stomach, until he's on his knees at the far end of the couch, a little further from your spread legs. Carefully, he removes your underwear, sliding it from each leg respectfully, and after gently nudging your legs to allow him access to your core... nothing happens.

Curious, you lift the blanket a little to peak at Leon. His face is blank, jaw ajar as he stares longingly at your pussy. A long tongue hangs from his startled face as he takes deep huffs of your scent. Transfixed, he doesn't seem to have noticed you watching him, nor does he register the thick glob of drool that's made contact with your couch.

He's well aware that he never asked you for your permission. He never asked how far this could go, however, something within him drew him to you. You smelled so good, you looked so good, and, he wouldn't admit it but you were the first pussy he'd eaten (he worried you'd probably decipher this instantly through his lack of skill.) To you, though, it seemed as though Leon might not want to do this afterall. Concerned, you gently reach to pat his head, hoping to focus his gaze back on you, but instead, he takes this as confirmation.

Like a salivating dog being told 'Eat', he buries his face into your pussy, ravenous. His thick tongue licking an apprehensive stripe from top to bottom, and instantly, his eyes light up. Leon screws his eyes tight, returning to eagerly lick at you, each breath a moan as he shoves his face as far as he can into you. He doesn't seem to care about the mess he's making of himself, or about you, lost in a world of his own as he begins to devour you.

Leon snuggles close, tail thumping hard against the couch as his ears stand to attention, absorbing any sounds you make. Licking into you now, he eagerly slurps up your juices, alternating between lapping at your folds, slick with his saliva, and giving gentle kisses and nudges to your clit (which he's just remembered was a thing.)

You can't help but release breathy moans as Leon consumes you, his hands now softly grabbing and kneading at your soft thighs, sometimes pulling away to kiss and nibble at them. Your sounds and small movements, grinding shyly against his face, only egg him on, and before long, a calloused thumb finds your clit, resting there for a while before rubbing small, fast circles, sending you reeling into his touch. You can feel Leon breathe a smirk onto you as he continues to lap and suck, swiftly building a pleasurable warmth within your belly.

Peering up at you, Leon senses your release and begins to work harder, the couch beginning to sway a little as he grinds and humps down into it desperately. His groans and whines vibrate deep within you, working with each hot and heavy breath to please you.

Eventually, that tightness into your core becomes intense enough to have your back arching, and in response, Leon's hand leaves your thigh to softly caress your stomach, soothing you. Seemingly a master of multi-tasking, he continues his skilful ministrations on you until your release. A hot buzz of pleasure rushes through you, eyes screwed shut as you shake and moan beneath him. Leon, panting heavily, slows his movement, still lovingly sucking and licking at your pussy, occasionally toying with your clit, until you come down, stilling in his hold.

You feel warm and sweaty, gross. You know the couch is probably coated in slick, and if not, definitely in his saliva. Expecting Leon to desperately come up for air, or part with you, you're surprised to feel him rest his warm face on your stomach, gazing up at you lovingly as his tail brushes over your legs repeatedly. He rocks the sofa with his excited, playful shivers as you smile down at him, a little nervous.

He licks his lips, entirely black eyes staring back at you. You feel a little guilty, seeing how coated he is in you, and not even his new long tongue can seem to clean up the mess you made. Leon doesn't seem to mind.

"How do you taste so good?", he rasps, large hand lifting your blanket nonchalantly so he can get a good look at you. His question has you squirming awkwardly, trying to close your legs, but finding them innocently pinned down by his weight. Absent-mindedly, the dogman pins his head up on one arm to gaze at you lovingly, whilst, his other hand mindlessly toys with your clit once you take hold of the blanket for him.

Shocked, you let out a small squeal and tell him to leave off, which, eventually he does. Apologetic eyes turn to dumbfounded ones as you suggest maybe helping him out. He stutters a little before finally finding his words. He seems surprised you'd even mention performing any sexual act on him.

"Y-Y/N -", he breathes, shocked, "You don't have to do that... it's fine. I-"

"Leon, it's alright. You helped me so maybe I can-"

"I already came...."

"...Are you sure? I want to-"

"Twice..." he groans, letting his head fall against your belly in shame, hot breath fanning you again as he lets out a long, miserable sigh. Lost for words and surprised, all you can do is gently pat his head as he lays there, motionless, seemingly mulling things over. You feel the need to reassure him. I mean, honestly, you were more than flattered.

"Is it normally that easy for you?" You choke out. Okay, that was NOT what you were meant to ask. Leon raises his head, eyes meeting yours, defeated. "I mean- wait look, Leon, I'm flattered" you chuckle "There's nothing wrong with it... Let's chill for a bit and then we can get cleaned up..." You soothe him, gently rubbing his ears, running your free hand through his hair.

In all honesty, you were spent, more than satisfied. You wouldn't mind chilling with him for a few hours, maybe sleeping together. Leon seemed utterly defeated too, the second you started toying with him, his head fell back onto your belly, resigning there, basking in your warmth and touch. A few minutes later, he lets out a wide-mouthed puppy yawn, exposing his sharp teeth, and that devilish tongue to you once more. Maybe you should both go for a wash now, he seemed tired.

"...Could go again..." a lazy, sultry mumble makes its way to your ears.

"...again?", you cock an eyebrow down at him, somewhat impressed by his stamina. "W-wait... eat me out again?" You don't know if you're ready for that-

He looks up at you, tilting his head as if debating what to say next. His face scrunches up and he almost cringes at himself before whining, "Gotta come again..." there's a short silence "I-if that's okay with you-" And then he shuffles backward and nuzzles his face into your cunt again, surprising you.

"Woah, woah, no no it's okay!" you shuffle away, breaking free of his weak hold and lifting his head to look at you "Let me help you this time, Leon." In response to your words, his eyes drift away, avoiding contact with yours. His face becomes a little more red, and his voice a little shaky.

"I don't think it's a good idea, actually.... M-maybe we should get you washed first..." Leon was acting a little strangely now, clinging to you needily, but refusing to look at you, just like a dog who'd done something wrong. This was the first time he'd taken his eyes off of you, but he was still fidgeting. He shook slightly, as if overcome by some great surge of adrenaline. He continued to sniff the air every now and then, looking away shyly. He knew you knew he could smell you. He was ashamed to be obsessed with you.

He kneels before you, ready to get up to give you space. "I don't understand why, Leon. Why are you so nervous about it?" You ask softly and his whole posture falls. His shoulders go limp as he looks back at you, crushed. After a moment of stillness, he stands up properly, ensuring he doesn't disturb the blanket atop you, keeping you warm.

"Look... I'm not a human anymore" He warns, gruffly. His gait becomes serious as he peers down at you. "It might not be safe." Suddenly, Leon's gone from loving, pussy drunk puppy to safety obsessed, matter-of-fact guard dog. His tail is still behind him, but authoritative in its stance, and his ears are stuck up and guarding. Half way between the two, your eyes glue themselves to the mess he's made on his shirt, almost entirely soaked through with your essence. And he doesn't seem to care at all.

"We can try-" you sit up eagerly, only to be met with Leon pinching the bridge of his nose, looking away and sighing.

"You don't get it. I've changed. E-even eating you out made me feel... strange. A-and my cock, it's-" you cut off his rambling by standing before him, naked. It's clear he wants it. You can tell by the freakishly large bulge and wet patch in his pants. You can tell by the way his eyes soften and his lids droop as they settle on your form. What a pervert.

His stammering is cut short as you approach him, and, once you reach him, you tell him sternly, "I don't care what's changed about you, Leon, I love you. So now, we're going to go and have a shower. And then, we're probably gonna fuck." Mouth hanging open, Leon can only blink at you. He swallows hard once you reach him, wrapping your arms around his neck and staring up at him oh-so-enticingly. He can't help himself. Cheeks burning, he leans down and gives you a soft, hungry kiss.

Strong biceps envelop you, and without warning, he lifts you into them. Once you're secure, he peppers your neck with kisses, hands roaming you as his legs auto-pilot him towards the direction you'd glanced in before. If he was lucky, he'd find your bathroom. If he were really lucky, he'd find your bedroom. Leon groans into your neck as he carries you, wrapped up in your senses again. Something about you bossing him around really did something for him, and he jostles you a little higher in desperate hopes of you not feeling just how solid he is.

Soon, Leon's letting you down on your bathroom floor, gazing down at you as if you're the most beautiful, elegant flower he's ever-

No time for that, you tug his shirt off, muscular arms lazily lifting themselves to allow you to manhandle him. That is, until, he has to crouch down as you're too short to remove his clothes all the way. You both giggle, joy easing the nerves somewhat. Leon's body tenses as he strips his own pants off, chucking them to the floor. His face apologetic as he scans yours for your reaction to his... development.

You never thought cocks actually sprung free from clothing in real life. You'd certainly never seen it before outside of fanfiction or animated porn, and you were astounded when it did just that. Not only that, but his cock was huge. Much more red than normal, it was certainly beautiful to look at. The shape was almost perfect, with a noticeable girth the closer it got to his body. It seemed to stare back at you with just as much lust as you it as it stood to attention, dribbling precum slowly, some of which had been flung to the floor.

Eventually tearing your eyes away from your new challenger, you notice that Leon had, again, torn his from you a while ago. He stood staring at the wall just past you, shyly facing your inspection of him. So... whatever he had contracted... had done THAT to his cock? It must have been at least two or three inches larger than you'd expected and whilst yes, it was intimidating, it was a challenge you would not shy away from accepting.

The only problem now was, you think to yourself as you turn to run the shower, there was no way you'd be able to give him head and call it payback. You definitely were going to fuck. "It's amazing" you breathe, looking up at Leon and then down at his cock, twitching in response to your words. His tail starts to slowly sway back and forth.

"You're just saying that-" he flushes, cock bouncing again as he finally looks you up and down again. His ears stand alert, and as steam slowly fills the room, he begins to pant. Following you into the shower, Leon waits for you to hand him some shampoo and soaps to use before cleaning himself down as you do. To no surprise, Leon's finished long before you are.

This becomes apparent when two large hands gently nudge yours aside, massaging your shampoo into your scalp for you. A soft, commanding grip on your chin guides you to look up as he wipes any remaining suds from your forehead before getting to work. Each of his fingers draw smooth, deep circles into you. His touch is like magic and has you completely unwinding.

Just as you reach the false illusion that he can't get better, he moves to a spot of your head that neither of you had yet and you stumble back into his toned form. His hands reach out to gently grasp you, holding you securely until you find your legs, and then he continues to clean you.

As he massages your back, you feel him pressed up against you. His excitement evident in the way his cock kicks against your ass. As he tends to you, you can't help but relax and soften, feeling so warm and secure, both inside and out. He's so sweet, and kind.

Once Leon finishes, he pulls away to allow you to rinse off, and, as you turn to face him, he tenderly looks down at you. His fringe is soaked, messily clinging to his face, partly obstructing his eyes. Ears and tail a damp, matted mess, he grins nervously back at you, seeking your approval as they perk up questioningly. Despite his cute act, you can tell that he is utterly downbad for you!!

Leaning in softly and pecking the gentle giant on the lips, you butter him up before leading him by the hand from the shower. Obediently, he follows you, armed with a towel each, to your bedroom. You dry yourselves off half-heartedly as he chases you along the corridor. Reaching your room, Leon follows shyly, closing the door carefully between the two of you.

Turning to face him, you notice how it takes him a while to register your gaze, forcing him to tear his eyes from where your butt was only seconds ago. He seems transfixed, mouth slightly ajar before he wakes himself up with a violent head-shake, flinging water everywhere. He smiles goofily at you. Almost distracting enough for you to forget about his angry red cock and the way it bobs and twitches, almost begging for your touch.

You weren't really sure what to do for Leon, so, you wanted to encourage him to do as he pleased. You hang your towel over your chair, prompting Leon to copy, and by the time he's turned back to face you, you're lying back in the middle of your bed, legs spread, holding your arms out to him. From 0 to 100 in seconds, his tail begins to wag. Eyes light up as your friend's ears stand to alert, and slowly, he approaches.

Waiting with baited breath, you're startled to see the man slowly stalk towards you. He's enamoured with you, eyes trained on your body, flickering between your breasts, your thighs, your face... Heck -every part of you. Meanwhile, legs on autopilot towards you. He still wears a small smile, despite his loose jaw, and as he reaches the edge of the bed, he pauses. He seems nervous, unsure of how to proceed.

Leon bites his lip, taking a deep breath. His eyes meet yours, begging for permission before his knee sinks into the bed. The bed shifts below you as he gently crawls up you, head hung low, eyes worshipping you from below once more. He seemed to enjoy that, being below you, or perhaps it was his new way of showing care and respect.

Anticipation grows within you. Sure, he hadn't exactly given you a strip-tease earlier, but now, with how slow his movements were (and how slowly i'm writing this fic), you spent far too long wondering how things would actually feel. You didn't miss the way his nostrils flared subtly as his face brushes past your abdomen, leaving small kisses along your delicate skin. Nor did you miss the way he gently suckled on one of your nipples, peppering the area in small kisses.

He didn't want to make either of you wait any longer, and so, kept things a little shorter than he'd liked. As his lips landed on yours, he promised himself that he would eat your pussy again, one day. A strong arm props him up as one of his hands gently cups your face, mindlessly gripping your jaw as he greedily swallows down any breaths and sounds you make. Groaning into you, he pulls away. His eyes instantly find yours.

"Are you sure?" He warns, voice hoarse and husky, eyes crafted with concern. When he sees the way your eyebrow raises, his ears quickly droop as he ducks down a little. "o-okay fine, but don't say I didn't warn you, okay?" his words are soft, the end of his sentence lost in your mouth as he kisses you hard. With one last shuffle and dip of the bed, Leon's hips are pressed up against yours. His cock fits perfectly within your folds as he bucks up into you slowly. At first, he simply wants to coat himself in you. And then, it starts to feel a little too good.

He almost loses himself already, groaning loudly into your mouth as his hips rut up against you, kissing you sloppily, eyes screwed shut. Meanwhile, you're shivering. Everything about him: His sounds, his smell, his huge cock, it's all intoxicating. His cock teases at your entrance and clit at the same time, having you rocking into him. You were almost hoping it'd accidentally slide in, but part of you was more than worried about whether he'd fit.

"Okay- I'm gonna...." Leon hisses, sitting back on his haunches as he watches himself gently guide his cock towards your hole. His pupils are wide, staring on as you feel the stretch just his tip provides. About an inch or two in, Leon stops. He sees the look on your face, and promptly licks a puddle of drool into his hand before dousing it on his cock. Then, eyes back on you, he slowly slides in some more.

It doesn't hurt. His precum and drool do a good job of helping you slide open on his cock as he inches deeper. Satisfied by your lack of discomfort, Leon leans in, kissing you once more as he bottoms out inside of you. The stretch is insane. You feel so full, and yet it isn't necessarily uncomfortable. You never thought he would fit, letting your head roll back with the satisfying sensation of him deep in your guts. You feel lucky that Leon is so kind and considerate, and despite his hips rolling into you soft and slow, he hasn't properly started to move yet.

After trailing soft, loving kisses up your chest and neck towards your face, and murmuring sweet nothings about how hot you are, how cute, how much you turn him on and how good you feel, he begins to slowly move. He pulls out about half way before gently pushing back in. Eyes trained on you, he repeats his motions, hips becoming a little more confident, grinding and rolling into you with each thrust. Already, you begin to feel all fuzzy inside. As he picks up the pace, Leon gently places his hands either side of your waist, kneading and gripping the flesh there as softly as he can as he fucks into you.

Within seconds, you're lost in the heat of the moment, literally. Body tingling all over wherever his meets yours. Your room no longer silent and peaceful, now orchestrated by lewd sounds of skin-on-on skin, soft whimpers and pornographic moans. Before long, the sound of a creaking bed joins the mix as Leon loses himself further in you. Groaning loudly, he throws his head back as his hips piston into you. Still doing his best to please you, there's an element of playful roll and dance in his movements, but it's clear Leon is chasing his own forsaken pleasure as he pummels deeper and deeper into you.

Unable to help himself, he begins to whine: "Oh fuck, you're so perfect"

"You're so hot, you're so cute."

Choking out a particularly violent moan, Leon wrangles his head back down to stare at you. He's a mess, hair clinging to his forehead, ears flopping comically as he fucks you deep. His eyes are dark with desire, flickering again from your breasts to your face, prompting him to lean down to kiss you once more. It's messy and breathy, mainly consisting of Leon moaning and licking into your mouth, his tongue wrestling yours for dominance as his hands move elsewhere. Fondling your breast in one hand, the rough digits of his other land on your clit, drawing small, fine circles with an almost practiced ease.

"Ohh god you're so tight", he sobs.

You whine and quiver, bucking into him, and whilst he doesn't seem to mind, his hips only pound you harder back into the bed. Back beneath him, where you belong. Breath heavy and rugged, he sounds exhausted, but his hips never slow or threaten to stop. Whatever affected him must have given him an insane, inhuman drive, you reckon, as he continues to hammer into you with each long, drawn out thrust. Each slap of his hips sees him pulling out at least a good 5 inches before sliding right back in as if it were where he too belonged.

"Is it good?? You like it??", he whimpers, voice strained between thrusts. His throat was thick, breath echoing desire.

Eventually, you can feel it coming: release. And you can tell by the way Leon's moans grow in volume that he is too. Eyes screwed shut, his head falls back again as this time, he grips you by your thighs. He marvels at the way you dimple between his fingers, drool falling from his chin onto your abdomen as he props your legs high, over his shoulder, so he can hit so much deeper into you. Your moans and whines only egg him on, his thrusts becoming faster, deeper and more aggressive as he almost snarls, burying his face as close to your neck as possible given the position.

Leon begins to groan softly as he feels you tightening around him. You know he might cum soon, and so, you begin to toy with your clit (or don't, its fine) as you reach up to cup his burning face in yours. The second you touch his face, his snaps and growls turn into desperate, whimpering moans as he pulls back to look into your eyes. He begins to shiver, yelping into your ear, trying to warn you. The stutter of his hips tells you exactly what he wants you to know, that he's close. Your touch on his face seems to have reminded him just who he was fucking, and that really, he should have warned you.

"I-I'm gonna cum" he whines in your ear "I'm s- I'm gonna-" he chokes out between moans and sighs. He was about to tell you he was sorry. He was about to pull out. But something inside told him he shouldn't. No, something told him he couldn't. It was in this moment that Leon decided he had to cum in you. Everything was so perfect right now, his cock buried in your hot cunt. The sounds of his skin slapping yours, the sounds of his dick ploughing through your wet folds. He needed it. He needed to be with you, to feel this all the time. He had to cum inside. He had to claim you.

"G-go on Leon..." you moan softly. Leon wanted badly to do exactly as you said. Mind swiftly fleeing him, Leon feels his body go shiver and shake, hips only now losing their rhythm slightly. His vision is clouded with images of you, overlapping the only real sight of you below him. Zoning in on your sounds, your blissed out face. Addicted to your soft skin and warmth, he reaches the his limit. With a guttural moan, Leon commits to a series of short, deep thrusts, snapping his hips into yours seemingly in rhythm with his cock as it spurts thick ropes into you. He closes his eyes, collapsing onto your chest now, moaning and whimpering into your breasts as his hips continue to gyre into you.

You were fortunate that Leon, despite his braindead state, possessed the primal urge to continue fucking his load into you, because as he did so, combined with the violent kicking and throbbing of his cock, he continued to edge you closer and closer to your own orgasm as you harshly rub your clit, desperate to give in before his hips do. Glancing down, you note his blissed out expression. Happy face, red cheeks, tightly shut eyes. He looks as though he could sleep any second, drooling over your breasts as his large, flat tongue laps up the mess, licking messily at your nearest tit.

You begin to notice his thrusts becoming extremely short now, not caring to pull out at all before grinding against you. And all of the above combined with his incessant grinding on your clit brings you over the edge, joining him.. Spasming a little, you clamp down on his cock, back arching into him and shaking. Leon's ears perk up and he quickly rises to attention again, sensing your change in pulse. He begins to lick and groom you all over, softly lapping at your throat and collarbones. He tastes your skin and your sweat and nibbles at your pulse points, as, shaking, you come down from your high slowly.

"Fuck... you're so tight... squeezing me so good" he whines, eyes shutting again as if you've sapped every ounce of his energy. "I had no idea ladies... came like that" he sighs against you, nibbling your ear passionately now, slowly starting to still his hips inside you. He was right... You were so tight against him. It felt as though he was getting bigger. Maybe it was just the stretch of his cum? You try and reason with yourself.

Glancing down at Leon, you realise he, too, is confused. He groans against you, now laying above you, his tail wags hard behind him as his hips autopilot themselves deeper suddenly. You start to panic a little. What's going on? "L-leon" you whimper, feeling yourself stretch even more, eyes squinting as you realise that he probably hasn't pulled out because he can't "'s too big... what's happening?" you groan, throwing your head back. In response, Leon is silent for a while. He's gone back to nibbling at your pressure points, hands greedily kneading the flesh of your breasts before he reaches down and, to your surprise, toys with your clit again.

"Leon... what-"

Cutting you off, suddenly, Leon rolls onto his back, bringing you with him. He stares up at you tenderly as he kisses into your mouth again before replacing his tongue with two of his fingers. They rest on your tongue, pinning it down, silencing you. His actions are dominant and unexpected, but not too rough as his hips continue to lazily roll into yours. Combined with the stretch and his ministrations on your clit, you almost feel like you could cum again like this, being used to nurse his cock.

Then, he leans down to whisper in your ear "Please, babe, don't be scared. Just stay nice and pretty for me, okay? Gotta knot you and pump you full so it takes, okay?" You whine around his fingers, not in protest, but in reaction to his words, which only has him pressing his fingers down a little harder onto your tongue, threatening to slip them down your throat. "Shhhh" he soothes, his voice a little more rough and less playful "Gotta make sure I fill you with lots of pretty puppies, okay?"

Dumb, all you can do is nod. You wouldn't want it another way. You'd never wanted kids before, but something about having your entire body spent, laying on his chizelled tone as he holds you close, rubbing into you sends you reeling. Before long, Leon's ministrations on your clit and tits have you grinding against him, whimpering softly until you release once more. To your excitement, the contractions of your spent pussy have Leon's dick throbbing once more, painting more of your womb. Only some of your combined juices manage to escape past his knot. The rest serving to swell your abdomen.

With excitement, he occasionally prods at your belly,, humming in delight as he kisses and licks you all night, obsessed with you. Only a small portion of you brain is even functioning now. And it's going over the amount of times you dismissed Leon's worry about intimacy. He seemed to have this very correct hunch that something would go... wrong. Or that you might be displeased.

Was him passively forcing you to serve his cock, stuffing you full of cum and barely allowing you to make a sound wrong? You couldn't tell. All you could tell was how good it felt to be ontop of him, to have his huge cock inside you. To get knocked up with his seed.

All you could tell was how good it felt to cum for him many more times that night. How good it felt to hear his gentle words and praise about how good you felt, how hot you'd be once you take, and how much of a dirty little breeding slut you were, just for him, until you both dozed off to sleep, shrouded in eachother's warmth.

Hi guys I didn't really write about the reader's reaction and stuff because A) I found it hard and B) I can't like say how you react??? like I always find it sad when fics are like "you're so wet" "your nipples are hard" etc because like I cant relate n then I feel dysfunctional??? Anyway. Thanks for reading I hate this fic sorry it took 2k years I love you guys thanks for being here and reading this.

also WOAH THAT TOOK A TURN FOR THE HORNY GODDAMN. sorry anout that idk what happened LOL and sorry the fic is so shit n slow I hope u enjoyed it ilysm

Sorry, I gave up on like... bold and italics half way through. And this isn't proof read lol. Thanks for the support guys. Don't worry about reposting and folllowing, especially following, cuz I'm a ghost on here tbh so there's no point. Any comment,s likes etc are much appreciated. Huge ego boost i love you all

stay horny

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lollixp0p · 2 months

Text

Valentine's lovin' (18+)

Pairing: Bf!Jung Wooyoung x afab!reader

Genre: Romance, fluffy, smut (MNDI)

Word count: Just over 3k!!

Warnings: Idol!au, established relationship, sub!Wooyoung (subtle though), nipple play (m rec.), hair pulling (m rec.), cunnilingus, vaginal fingering, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!!!), riding, creampie, (reader gets called my love, baby and other variations of it, Wooyoung gets called kitty, good boy)

Summary: It's your first Valentine's day as a couple and Wooyoung decides to take you on the best date of your life, so of course you have to reward him for his efforts ;)

Note: Happy Valentine's day everyone!! It's lovely Wooyoung time, I hope everyone who reads this enjoys (ignore any errors, I'm too lazy to check for them properly right now) :) Please comment, reblog etc. and give me feedback so I know if you liked it!🙏

Please do not under any circumstance copy, translate, or repost my works!

The entire week up to today Wooyoung had been a stressed mess, wanting to make sure everything was in order for your special date. Why special, you may ask? Well because it was Valentine's day and he'd wanted everything to be as perfect as possible.

He'd made sure to move every practice or other schedule from that day to a different one, although their managers had not been very pleased about the information.

He had to nag Hongjoong and Jongho to be out of their dorm by seven pm at the latest, so you two could relax after the date with an amateur spa session and then watch your favorite movies until the two of you fell asleep cuddled on his bed. They'd finally agreed on the promise of free dinner paid by him the next day (much to Wooyoungs dismay).

Even though he had been all over the place on the days before it, the actual date was far more magical you could have ever imagined.

Wooyoung showed up to the door of your apartment in a fancy black suit holding a large bouquet of red roses, to signify his undying love and passion for you.

Although the lower half of his face was covered by a black face mask he looked so incredibly handsome you just wanted to drag him straight to your room and skip the entire date.

"Happy Valentine's day my love, I hope you're ready for the most romantic day of your life! These are for you, the most gorgeous person I've ever had the pleasure of seeing", Wooyoung says, pulling his mask down and grinning at you. He hands you the gorgeous bouquet and waits by the door as you go inside to put them in a vase.

"Thank you Wooyoungie... they're so beautiful", you smile at him bashfully. No matter how long it's been he still manages to make your stomach fill with butterflies and twist and turn in the most wonderful ways. The months you've been together have truly been the happiest of your life and you really can't wait to see what he has in store for you for your first Valentine's together.

Wooyoung tucks a strand of hair behind your ear and leaves his hand on your cheek, caressing it softly. He leans in until your noses are touching, but holds still until you try to look away in shyness at his intense gaze.

Chuckling to himself and muttering a 'silly baby' under his breath, he turns your face towards him and finally closes the gap between you, kissing you passionately. Once he breaks off the kiss you're left breathless and dazed... 'What a little brat...' you think, but he's yours so you don't mind him teasing you like this.

He offers you his arm and after making sure you have everything you need with you, you finally grab it, close the door and he leads you to the company car driving you two to the expensive looking barbeque restaurant he'd booked a private room from.

During the entire ride Wooyoung couldn't stop gushing about how gorgeous you looked and you couldn't help but feel flattered that someone whose looks rivaled that of the suns could see such wonder in you.

When you'd gotten close enough to the restaurant Wooyoung put his mask and baseball cap on to hide his identity, slightly ruining his perfectly placed hair. 'The unfortunate realities of going on dates with an idol', you think to yourself, but ultimately understand it being for both of your safety and privacy.

After checking in at the front desk a waiter leads you to your private room and Wooyoung finally takes both the cap and mask fully off.

He fluffs his hair and helps you take your jacket off as you stare at him in wonder, itching to touch the perfectly fallen curls of his hair.

"Thank you Youngie", you smile up at him. He places the coat on the rack next to the door and pauses for a moment, looking you up and down and smiles back at you. You can hear your heartbeat in your ears, feeling flustered at how taken he is by you.

"You're welcome pretty baby... I didn't realise you still had the jacket I lent you a month ago, I've been wondering where it went", he chuckles to you while pulling your chair back and pushing it closer to the desk once you're seated.

The restaurant staff had obviously known of your arrival beforehand, and made the room ready for use in advance. He sits down as a different waiter arrives and listens to them explain the menu. The both of you decide to split a slightly bigger meal so you wouldn't be too full by the time you got to the dorms.

Wooyoung had picked an incredible place to eat, as the food had looked mouthwatering the moment it arrived in the room, even if the meat had been raw at that point. His cooking skills had really shined through and you suspect that had been a part of the reason he wanted to take you there, fishing for compliments as he grills the meat for both of you.

While eating you exchanged about a thousand kisses with each other, even as you whined at him to stop so you could chew your food. Though he did make up for it by feeding you with his chopsticks and making sure you drank enough in between, smiling endearingly at you as he wipes any stray sauce off your cheeks, kissing them after.

The conversation was flowing so naturally that at times you'd completely forget to eat or sip the wine you had, due to your excitement and interest in the things you were talking about, making his show of affection very helpful even.

Once you had finally finished you'd put away any trash you managed to make and set your cutlery nicely on the table, to make the waiters job easier. Wooyoung got himself ready to leave and then handed you your jacket. He made sure to let the company staff driving your ride know the car could be driven to the front.

The two of you left after thanking the restaurant staff and once outside Wooyoung opened the door for you to get into the car before him.

You found yourself flustered by how he had upped his charm to what must be a thousand percent for this special day. It was clear this day was very important to him, wanting to impress you so.

In the car Wooyoung kept leaving sweet pecks to your cheeks and lips, telling you how much he loved you. It was obvious the shared wine had gotten him a bit buzzed but you could tell he wasn't drunk, just in that stage where he wanted to kiss you until you both were one, entangled in each others love.

Sitting on the right of you, little by little, his right hand drifts down to your thighs, until he's gripping the inner thigh of your right leg. Moving it towards him slowly, he slightly spreads your legs. Though to your relief (and dissapointment) that's all he does.

By now you know him well enough to know that normally he'd be cheeky enough to try finger you in the backseat, but you're glad he knows better right now. Wooyoung must realise that if he keeps his hands to himself, you'll rock his world as a thanks for the best date you'd ever had together yet.

Despite being a little brat that needs to be put in his place every once in a while, you know there's nothing Wooyoung loves more than getting taken care of and pampered, being controlled.

The car coming to a stop is what gets him to stop drowning you in kisses and he gathers himself, taking his hand off your thigh and winking at you. 'God he looks delicious', you find yourself thinking as he's fixing his hair. You have to remind yourself there's someone else in the car with you so you don't take him right here.

Wooyoung opens the door and gets out, then helps you out of the car by holding your hand. After thanking the driver and telling him to have a great night, the car drives off.

He takes off the mask again and shoves it into his pocket, grinning at you when he notices your intense staring. Even if it's meant to be teasing his smile truly is the most beautiful thing you've ever seen.

The two of you walk up to the front door of the dorm he shares with the leader and the maknae of his group. After the move that divided the eight of them into three separate places, meeting him at the dorm had become a lot less stressful.

Before there was no privacy at all and the rest of the men would tease Wooyoung any chance they'd get. Sure, it was out of love for him but the amount of times one of the seven had walked in on a makeout session was starting to become ridiculous.

Wooyoung pulls out his keys and as he tries to get the dorm key in the lock, the focused look on his face makes you snap and finally jump him. He manages to get the door open just as you turn his head towards you and slot your mouths together. He lets out surprised gasp at your enthusiasm and you use the opportunity to shove your tongue into his mouth.

The two of you stumble into the dark apartment with your lips locked. You kiss him harder and he whimpers, loving the feel of you on him. Wooyoung has his hands holding tightly onto your hips and eyes shut in pleasure but despite that he still manages to turn the lights on in the hallway, very telling of how often you've done this together.

You tap him lightly on the shoulder and he gets your signal, your minds and bodies dancing in harmony, something that makes your heart feel warm and fuzzy. He removes your jacket while you take off his and start unbuttoning the shirt underneath. Leaving everything extra at the front door the two of you run to his room hand in hand giggling to each other with lovesick eyes.

Fuck it, the spa session and movies can wait until later.

He opens the bedroom door, pushes you in and closes it behind you both. Crowding him in against the door you continue making out. You run your hands through his silky hair, tug on it and Wooyoung lets out a pathetic whimper, grinding his already hardening dick against your leg. You push his open shirt off his shoulders and let it fall to the ground.

"Hey... no fair, you have to take yours off too!", he breaks the kiss to pout at you.

"Oh, I'm sorry Youngie... I thought I was in control here? When did you get so demanding, huh?"

He stays quiet and looks down, you can almost see the conflict in his eyes. Should he keep teasing you and risk a punishment or listen like a good boy and get his reward for being such an incredibly thoughtful and sweet boyfriend today?

"Well? How's it gonna be little kitty, are you gonna be good and listen to me?"

He looks up at you through the hair covering his beautiful brown eyes, "... Yeah... yes please, baby," Wooyoung whispers, "I'll- I'll listen- I want you, please."

"Mmm, my good boy, thank you...", you coo at him and kiss him on the cheek. "I'll take such good care of you Woo." His whole face down to his neck flushes red in excitement and arousal. He's so greedy for praise and compliments...

"Take off your clothes and get on the bed for me, won't you kitty?", you tilt his face towards you and he shivers, nodding. He does as told and situates himself in the middle of the bed, looking at you while you stand at the foot of the bed. Slowly you take your clothes off and his eyes widen.

Taking in the sexy red lingerie, barely covering anything, he gulps and grips the knees of his pants, "A-ah shit, what the fuck... You're so sexy...", his face scrunches, shuddering breaths leaving his mouth. You giggle at his obvious arousal, cupping your tits in your hands and groping them. His hands twitch, like he's itching to move them to his very noticeable erection.

"Thank you, sweet kitty. I thought I'd give you a nice little surprise today...", your hands run lower on your body and to the back, leaving them on your ass.

Turning around, you bend over to show off exactly what he wants to see. "Would you like your treat now?", you ask as you run your other hand lower towards your already eager pussy. He takes in a breath through his gritted teeth and watches you stand up straight to take off the bra top of the red set. You get on the bed and he turns towards you as you do, never taking his eyes off of you.

"Come get your treat then kitty", you spread your legs as he crashes down on the mattress, panting like a dog in heat. Not waiting another second he brings his hands down to your hips to take off the remaining piece of clothing.

Wooyoung lowers his mouth to your dripping cunt, moaning in delight at finally getting a taste of you. He pushes his tongue in your hole and thrusts it in and out for a bit gathering your wetness on his tongue.

Him moaning into your pussy makes your legs shake and do your best to keep them from shutting around his face. Seeing you you so lost in the feeling of his talented tongue makes him grind his crotch against the mattress, losing himself in the feeling and taste of you on his mouth. He lifts his face for a moment to take a breath.

"I love you so much... my baby, fuck... You taste so good", he buries his face between your legs again, gripping tightly onto your thighs to keep you as close as possible. Lapping at your clit, he groans in satisfaction.

"F-fuck Youngie... You're so g- so good for me", you gather the hair on the back of his head into your hands and guide him even closer to your wet heat, so that he's buried nose deep in you.

The pressure makes him groan into you and the vibrations of his voice in turn make your legs twitch shut around his head for a moment.

"Shit! My good... fuck, good boy! Doing so well for me kitty", your voice shudders, hands gripping his hair harder.

Soon you find yourself craving something more. "Ah, fingers too kitty...", you tell him, desperately needing any part of him in you, craving to be closer to him in any way possible. And just like the good boy he can, he listens to your command immediately.

Going straight for two to properly stretch you for his cock, he pushes them in and scissors them, sucking on your clit at the same time.

He continues to play with your pussy and it doesn't take you long to get close from his skilled hands. In just a couple more moves of his fingers your pussy throbs and you come around them, making you moan his name loudly in pleasure.

You don't wait long to come down, instead you sit up and push him down by his chest and straddle him, running your hands over his smooth skin.

"Wooyoungie... Let me take care of you ok? You'll let me, right?", you coo at him sweetly, seeing his eyes cloud over in ecstasy as your fingers find his sensitive brown nipples.

"Haa- ah! Yeah yeah, please, hah!", he thrashes his head from side to side on the pillow, eyes squeezing shut in pleasure. You grind your wet pussy against his hard cock and his whole body jolts under you. He lets out a long wound out moan at the promise of getting to be inside you soon. Finally you take him in your hand, position him under you and start lowering yourself on his dick.

His head tilts back as he groans at the feel of you around him, hands immediately flying to your hips to hold onto anything, as you don't wait to start moving on him. He bucks his hips up towards you and you decide to let him, for the sake of Valentine's day.

You put your hands on the sides of his head and lower your face to his, kissing him with fervour as you keep moving your bodies in tandem.

You move your other hand to his hair again and tug on it, making him whimper. He lets go of your kiss to bare his neck to you and you move your mouth to it to mark him to your liking. Already feeling close after your first orgasm it doesn't take very long to feel it building up again and seeing how Wooyoung can barely contain himself it's obvious he's not that far off either.

"You- ah, you gonna come ki-itty? For me yeah??", you lick along his collar bone and tug hard on his hair.

All that he can let out is a silent scream as he throws his head back further and comes in you, mouthing out something along the lines of 'please, yes, yes god, please!!'.

Seeing his brain shut off in pleasure makes you come around him as well and you stop bouncing on his cock, letting him stay in you as you both come down for your highs together, feeling his cum in you.

"Happy Valentine's my good boy, I love you so much", you kiss him on the lips even if he's barely able to reciprocate, running his hands along your back to ground himself.

You decide to rest with him a bit, not having enough energy to get yourselves clean just yet. For now, you just want to feel him close to you.

Your sweet, caring, thoughtful boyfriend.

#cupid♡writing #sub!idol #ateez x reader #ateez smut #ateez hard hours #jung wooyoung x reader #jung wooyoung smut #wooyoung x reader #wooyoung smut #dividers by cafekitsune

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helloalycia · 3 months

Text

𝐕𝐀𝐑𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐘 𝐂𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐇 [𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄] — 𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐈𝐄 𝐓𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐎𝐑

summary: when Jackie surprises you with a kiss, you're excited at the possibility of what it could mean, only to discover she's got back together with her boyfriend the next day.

warning/s: implied internalised homophobia i suppose?

author's note: and here’s the third and final part - i hope you liked this one, loved writing for jackie 🥰 i have amother jackie one done and another in the works bc apparently i was super inspired recently lol, and i’ve also got some other stuff in progress. But the next thing I post is gonna be an alycia debnam carey imagine (gotta stick to my roots haha)

one / two / masterlist / wattpad

I groaned inwardly as I looked all around the darkroom, my locker and my school bag for my lens cap, but I just couldn't seem to find it. That's when I wondered if it could be in the bleachers on the soccer pitch – maybe it fell out of my pocket when I was shooting recently.

Like the lazy girl I was, I went outside with tunnel vision, immediately searching the bleachers for my lens cap, but I still couldn't find it. As I paused, looking up for a moment to think, I realised someone was on the pitch, and upon closer inspection at the waving figure, I realised it was Jackie. Huh.

When I climbed down from the bleachers, she jogged over to me with a confused expression, but smiling nonetheless.

"What are you doing here?" she asked breathlessly, a little sweaty from practice, and it was annoying because she still managed to look good.

"I lost my lens cap for my camera," I said with a sigh. "The last place I remember having it is here."

Her fingers played with her bottom lip as she glanced around. "Oh. That's annoying. Erm..."

"It's fine," I said, not wanting her to worry herself over it when it was my problem. "I'm just having a look around, but I don't think it's here. Might pick up a new one from the camera store. Anyway, what are you doing out here? Where's the team?"

At this, she rested her hands on her hips. "No practice on today, but I wanted to have some me time. Thought I'd put in some extra practice. I've finished now anyway."

I quirked a brow. "Isn't Shauna usually your lift? How you getting home?"

"Shauna is helping her parents with something," she said, before flashing me her signature smirk. "I was planning to flirt with some sophomores and get a ride."

I laughed, shaking my head. "Of course you were."

She winked playfully and, though I didn't doubt she could find some desperate sophomore to give her a ride, I couldn't just let her do that. Besides, it seemed she was getting lifts off me a lot lately, so what was one more to add to the list?

"I'm done in the dark room if you need a ride," I offered.

"Oh, I wasn't hinting at anything," she said, giving me a genuine smile, but I shook my head.

"I know, but still. I don't mind."

Appreciative, she nodded. "Thanks. Do I have time to shower?"

"You have all the time in world, darling," I said as I looked around. "I am still yet to find my lens cap."

She stifled a chuckle. "Good luck with that. I'll go clean up. Meet you at your car?"

I hummed in agreement, already mentally retracing my steps with my camera, and she left me to it. After spending half an hour more searching all around for my lens cap, I finally gave up and went to sulk in my car. It wasn't actually a big deal, especially because I could just buy a new one after dropping Jackie off, but it was the inconvenience of it all.

Not long after I got in my car, Jackie joined me, tossing her backpack in the backseat before sliding into the passenger's seat. Looking refreshed, she shot me a smile.

"So, where to?" she asked, pulling her seatbelt on.

"Your house?" I replied, thinking it was obvious.

"But I thought you wanted to get your lens cap from the store," she said with confusion. "Oh, wait, did you find it?"

As I started the car, I said, "I didn't, but it's fine. I can drop you off home."

"I don't mind going," she said, leaning her elbow on the door. "It's on the way anyway."

"You sure?"

She hummed in agreement, so I drove us straight to the camera store, knowing I wouldn't be long. Luckily, it was still open for the day, and when we headed inside, she immediately began to wander around the small store, intrigued by the cameras on display.

I began to talk to the shopkeeper about my lens size and what camera I had, hoping he had a replacement cap I could buy, and then he left to have a look in the back.

"Y/N, there's a photo booth!" Jackie suddenly called as I was waiting for the shopkeeper to return.

"Yep," I acknowledged, having seen it a million times so not sure what the hype was.

"We have to use it, c'mon!" she pleaded, already grabbing my hand.

I rolled my eyes, having gotten used to Jackie so much that I knew to just go with the flow at this point. She was grinning as she looked at the button and money slot.

"It's fifty cents," she realised, before elbowing me in the gut as she rushed to find some coins in her pocket. Eventually she pulled out a quarter and looked at me. "You got another quarter?"

"I guess? I don't–"

"Look!" she encouraged, and I grumbled to myself as I dug around in my own pocket, managing to pull out a quarter. Before I could even offer it her, she grabbed it from my hand and put both of them in the machine.

After fiddling around, a manual timer ticked to signal the first photo was going to be taken, so Jackie moved closer to me to fit in the lens.

"Smile!" she said, and I had no choice but to listen.

The photo was taken and, just as quickly, the next timer was going off.

"Funny face!" she instructed immediately, before pulling one of her own.

I rushed to stick out my tongue, managing to do bunny ears behind her head without realising, and then the final timer was ticking.

"Okay, a kiss on the cheek for the grand finale," she said with amusement, and because we'd been so rushed up until now, I didn't really think to question who was kissing who.

As the last tick went off before the photo, I turned to kiss her cheek, but she must have done the same, because for a brief moment, our lips touched and then the photo was taken. Embarrassed, I quickly pulled away, as did she.

"Sorry," we both blurted at the same time, and suddenly this photo booth felt too small.

"Y/N?" the shopkeeper called, and I was grateful for the interruption as I stepped out the photo booth and saw he was back at the counter. "Got your lens cap. This should fit like a glove."

I swallowed thickly as I approached the counter, acutely aware of Jackie stood behind me, looking as awkward as I felt. After paying the shopkeeper, the two of us left and returned to the car.

"Er, did you want the photos or–" Jackie started to ask when we got in the car, holding the strip that the machine gave her.

"It's okay, you really wanted them," I said quickly, before distracting myself with starting the car.

To say the car ride home was awkward was an understatement, even with the radio filling the silence. I wasn't sure why, since we both knew the poor attempt of a kiss was an accident, but my fear was that I'd made her feel uncomfortable. It was the last thing I'd wanted, but I couldn't bring myself to speak, and neither could she.

I barely got chance to put my parking brake on when she got out the car and avoided my eyes.

"Thanks for the ride," she muttered, before walking up the long path to her mansion of a home.

I would have left it there, but it felt wrong to, and then I noticed she'd left her backpack in the backseat, so I called her from the open window and grabbed the bag. Jumping out the car, I jogged to meet her halfway, glad she'd stopped.

"You forgot your bag," I said, holding it out to her, and she accepted it, expressionless but staring holes into my face.

Knowing I couldn't leave it like this, I started, "Jackie, what's–"

But she cut me off instantly – and to my surprise – with a kiss. I stumbled back as she grabbed my face, kissing me with such intensity that it took me a second to realise that Jackie fucking Taylor was kissing me. And she was really good at it.

I closed my eyes, reciprocating the kiss, breathing in every part of her floral perfume, tasting every bit of her strawberry lipgloss. There was a second where we paused to take in a breath, but she closed it just as quickly, desperate and sudden and surprising.

Finally she pulled back, and then as if realising what she'd done, her hands let go of my face and she avoided eye contact like I'd make her go blind.

"Thanks," she said awkwardly, before spinning around and speed walking to her front door.

"Wait, Jackie–!"

But she fumbled for her keys and was already at her front door, not bothering to turn around. I swallowed hard, my lips still tingling from the sensation of hers, and went back to my car. Did that really just happen?

All night I was thinking about it, replaying the afternoon in my mind. She'd made me question a lot about my feelings for her in the past, and at one point, I was certain I was just projecting onto her – maybe that flirting was just who she was? But no, it had to be real, because she'd just made out with me on her own accord, and I liked it. I'd liked her, sure, but she'd always been unattainable to me for obvious reasons.

Well, until now.

The next day at school, I was hoping I could talk to Jackie about everything properly, maybe get some clarification on what she was thinking. So, you can imagine my surprise when I walked past her in the hall and saw her standing with Jeff, her supposed-to-be ex-boyfriend, leaning on his shoulder as he had an arm wrapped around her.

As soon as I saw them together, my heart dropped, the surprise easily replaced by humiliation. God, how could I have ever thought Jackie Taylor and I could be a thing? Was I stupid?

Turning to walk a different way, I fought back the urge to cry, feeling used and stupid and like an absolute fool for thinking yesterday was anything special.

"Hey, Y/N, wait," Jackie suddenly called, and then she stopped before me with apologetic eyes. "I didn't–"

"So you're back with Jeff, huh?" I got straight to the point, glaring at her.

She avoided my eyes and nodded weakly.

I scoffed, feeling much better hiding behind my anger than my sadness. "Why did you even do it, Jackie? Why d'you kiss me?"

She frowned. "I don't know."

The longer she avoided my stare, the more upset I became. How dare she do all of this, make me fall for her, force herself into my life, only to throw it back in my face.

"Just wanted to test it out?" I muttered bitterly. "Kissing a girl?"

She winced. "No, it wasn't like that."

"Then what?" I asked, searching her expression for a clue, but she refused to answer, either not having the words or not wanting to upset me anymore. Too late for that. "You should figure your shit out," I said harshly. "And don't speak to me again."

Finally, she looked up, but I was already leaving, ignoring when she called my name. I should've known she'd go back to him, she always did.

Fuck Jackie Taylor.

It was impossible to avoid her and Jeff over the next few days, since they were in a lot of my classes and always on the way to my locker, but I tried my darn best to.

Unfortunately for me, I was out grocery shopping with my mum when I spotted a familiar blonde head of hair further down the aisle from us, standing with her best friend. I was hoping if we stayed put long enough, they'd just keep going and we wouldn't bump into them, but my mum, who was oblivious to our falling out, spotted Jackie instantly.

"Oh, Y/N, your friend is here," she pointed out, and before I could tell her to keep it down, she started to call out Jackie's name, earning her attention.

"Mum, no!" I whisper-shouted, but it was too late because Jackie and Shauna were already approaching us.

I considered walking away, finding somewhere else to busy myself, but my mum would have just found a reason to make it a big deal, so I stayed put and kept quiet.

"Hey, Y/M/N," Jackie greeted my mum in her usual chirpy voice, before I felt her looking at me. "Hey, Y/N."

I ignored her, suddenly interested by the handlebar of the trolley.

"Jackie, it's so great to see you again," my mum said, genuinely happy to chat with her, since the soccer player had made quite the impression on her. "And your friend, it's Shauna, right?"

"It is, it's great to meet you," Shauna greeted her kindly before shooting me a smile. "Hey, Y/N."

"Hey," I mumbled, giving her a quick smile before looking at the bananas on display.

"You know, it's a good thing I bumped into you," my mum said to them, particularly Jackie. "I wanted to thank you again for your help at the fundraiser! We raised over five thousand dollars!"

"That's amazing," Jackie said with disbelief. "I didn't know."

At this, my mum glanced at me questioningly. "Didn't you tell her, hon?"

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. "Must've forgotten."

"Oh, Y/N," my mum scolded lightheartedly as Jackie looked away uncomfortably.

She continued to talk the girls' ears off before finally realising she was holding everyone up and saying her goodbyes. Taking the trolley from me, she began to push it forward and I was about to follow, but Jackie suddenly grabbed my arm.

"Y/N–"

I pulled my arm from her grasp, not bothering to meet her gaze. "Don't you have a soccer game to practice for or something?"

She didn't reply, and I rejoined my mum's side, remaining quiet for the rest of the trip. Why couldn't Jackie just leave me alone?

I was making notes in my English workbook as the teacher continued to explain the variations and development of children's language AKA the topic of our next assignment.

"...and I think that, just like children, students like Jackie Taylor can't seem to focus when they're supposed to be," Mr. Collins suddenly said, pulling me from my focus. "Miss Taylor, is there something particularly fascinating about the back of Miss Y/L/N's head?"

A few students giggled to themselves as I flushed with embarrassment, too afraid to turn around to see what he was talking about, though it was pretty self explanatory.

Jackie cleared her throat, embarrassed. "Of course not, sir. Sorry. Continue."

"Thank you," he said sarcastically, before continuing to read through his presentation, but my face was still flaming and I was unable to focus for the rest of class now, aware of the hazel eyes staring a hole in my back.

God, she was seriously not helping with this whole getting over her thing.

About a week after the whole Jackie thing, I unfortunately couldn't seem to avoid her forever as I had to take photos at the Yellowjackets' away game. I told myself I'd just do my job and be gone to avoid any awkwardness, but of course, that couldn't happen.

The game happened to be at East Rutherford High which wasn't a big deal, but as I was setting up my camera on the side of the pitch before the game, Olivia found me.

"Y/N, hey!" she called, and I turned around before remembering she went here.

"Liv, hey," I said with a smile, before hugging her. "I totally forgot you go here. Big soccer fan?"

She chuckled. "Not really. But my friends are so I said I'd come watch. Don't know why we bother though, the Yellowjackets always kick our arses."

I tried not to laugh because it was true. "Way to support your team."

"As a school, we've kind of accepted our defeat," she joked, before nodding to my camera. "You're taking photos for the paper, right?"

I nodded, letting my camera hang from my neck. "That's right."

"Your photos are always so good," she complimented, and I was surprised she'd seen them, so she clarified, "Sometimes our school paper look at examples of nearby schools and whenever they show us yours, I always see your photographs."

I smiled with embarrassment, though touched that she'd noticed. "Thanks, Liv, that means a lot."

She shrugged. "Just stating the truth." She paused, glancing out at the pitch as the players started to file out. "Surprised your friend, Jackie, isn't here. Didn't think she'd like me talking to you."

At this, I grew embarrassed for a different reason. "Yeah, look, I'm sorry if she was standoffish with you last time. I didn't–"

"I'm teasing," she assured me, trying not to laugh. "But it's all good. I should go find my seat anyway."

I sighed, nodding, and she smiled sweetly at me before leaving. Rubbing my face, I tried to push any thoughts of the soccer captain out of my head, hating that she was still being mentioned even when she wasn't here.

Instead, I focused my efforts on photographing the game, actually quite enjoying that it was an evening match so the lowlight gave me something to practice with. During half time, Olivia stopped by again and I welcomed it, enjoying getting to know her a little more. She was actually really chill to hang out with, but Jackie's words were still in my head about her 'textbook flirting'. Either way, Olivia was fun.

It was a given that the Yellowjackets would win, and after the game ended and I snapped some celebratory pictures, I moved to the side of the pitch to pack up my things. Olivia approached me again and I smiled.

"Great game, huh?" she said with amusement.

"Always is when the Yellowjackets play," I said playfully, and she raised her brows with mock disbelief.

"Wow, you're already starting the soccer war? That's low, Y/N," she said, making me laugh.

"Gotta support the home team," I said with a shrug. "Especially when they're that good."

She rolled her eyes, suppressing her smile. "Yeah, yeah..." As I shouldered my camera bag, she asked, "You heading off now?"

"That's the plan," I said with a tired sigh. "Why? Aren't you?"

She locked eyes with me, smiling softly. "I was going to ask if you're free to hang right now. Could grab some food or something?"

"Oh," I said, realising she was asking me out. "I– erm–"

It sounded fun, and why couldn't I enjoy a dinner with a cute girl? Smile forming on my lips, I was about to agree, but then the devil's spawn herself decided to appear.

"There you are," Jackie said, looking to me, either oblivious to my annoyance or choosing to ignore it.

"Didn't take long," Olivia mumbled to herself, but I heard it. Clearing her throat, she said to me, "I'm gonna guess you're busy tonight?"

"Oh, there's an after game party," Jackie answered for me, making me clench my jaw. "Kind of a tradition."

Olivia forced a smile. "Right."

"I never go anyway," I said quickly, earning her attention, and receiving a glare from Jackie who I so desperately wished would leave. "I can–"

"The others are asking if you'll go tonight actually," Jackie interrupted, flashing a sickly sweet smile at me.

If looks could kill, she'd be toast right now. Who the hell did she think she was to step in right now? She'd shown me how she felt – she didn't have a right to do this.

"Never mind," Olivia said, already backing up. "Enjoy."

Losing my glare, I looked to Olivia, ready to apologise, but she'd already walked off to join her friends and I knew I'd only make it worse.

"Huh, I was right," Jackie mumbled to herself, which reminded me she was still standing there and very much the reason Olivia hated me now.

"What the hell d'you do that for?!" I shouted at her.

She raised her brows, feigning confusion. "Do what?"

I clenched my fists with frustration. "No! You don't just get to do that!"

She shook her head. "What?"

I scowled, looking between her eyes with annoyance. "Care. You led me on. Used me as– I don't even know what! Some sort of rebound? An experiment? Either way, it was horrible, and now you don't get to just come in and stop me from accepting dates. You're nothing to me, Jackie."

As I spoke, she began to frown, only serving to piss me off further. How could she act like the victim right now? I was the one who'd been played!

"I didn't use you," she said weakly, but I could only step back and fix her with a glare.

"Leave me alone," I warned her once more, not bothering to stay behind to see what she'd say.

The weekend passed and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't thinking of Jackie the whole time. I wished I'd never found her crying after her breakup with Jeff because then I wouldn't have felt the need to check on her and she wouldn't have felt the need to be my friend. My life was a whole lot easier when she wasn't in it, and yet I still couldn't stop thinking of her. She was bad for me, so why did I still care about her?

I hadn't seen her since the game on Friday night, and despite the fact that she'd literally humiliated me, I still felt guilty for shouting at her. I wasn't someone who got angry easily, but truthfully, it wasn't anger. My heart hurt and who else to take it out on than the girl who broke it?

It was foolish of me to even feel that way, since we weren't anything. She'd never said she cared about me as more than a friend, she hadn't really done anything out of the ordinary except kiss me, which had clearly been a mistake. Her flirtatious behaviour was just typical Jackie. I knew what I was getting myself into. I guess this whole thing was my fault in a way.

Trying to take my mind off it, I stayed back after school to start putting my end of year portfolio together for photography class. I was grateful that nobody else was here, needing the quiet to simply get lost in my school work and nothing else.

I was considering some photographs on the desk when the sound of the door opening startled me. Nobody was supposed to be here, but when I turned around, my surprise faded into irritation at the sight of Jackie.

"Okay, seriously, do you need me to sing it you?" I asked with disbelief. "Write it down? Get a fucking sky writer?! Leave me alone, Jackie!"

"Wait," she said quickly, closing the door behind her and letting herself in, making me groan. "Please, I just– I have something to say."

I rolled my eyes, looking back to my photos with hopes she'd get the hint. "What? You finally figure your shit out?"

It was sarcastic, so I definitely didn't expect her to say, "Yeah. I broke up with Jeff."

My brows knitted together with confusion when I looked to her again. "You what?"

She licked her lips, grateful for the relief in tension. "After the game on Friday. I ended it."

I was certainly shocked to hear that she'd done that, but I wasn't about to give her the satisfaction. Crossing my arms, I tried to appear indifferent. "So what?"

She exhaled softly, steadily approaching me until she was stood right in front of me. Her hazel eyes, looking brown as they met mine, held my gaze with determination.

"You weren't an experiment," she said guiltily. "You weren't a rebound either. I never meant to hurt you, Y/N."

I frowned, eyes flickering between hers. Both my frustration and distress were building up because she seemed to be telling the truth, and it wasn't fair. She still did it. She broke my heart.

"Then what?" I asked, hands trembling. "How else can it seem when you–" I paused, glancing at the classroom door which was closed. Still, I lowered my voice for her sake. "When you kissed me – which, by the way, you initiated – then, before I can even discuss it with you, you get back together with your boyfriend? How?!"

She frowned, shaking her head as she looked down to her hands. "It was horrible, I know. You have to know how much I regret it."

"Gee, thanks," I said bitterly, and she was quick to look up again, worried.

"Wait, no, that's not what I meant," she explained. "I regret getting back together with Jeff, not kissing you. I– I liked that a lot." She was unusually nervous, swallowing visibly. "I like you."

My heart was confused as I studied her expression, seeing nothing but honesty.

"I should've said something," she admitted. "I didn't know that I'd fall for you, Y/N. I've never even liked a girl. Especially not one who's so sure of herself."

I scoffed, meeting her confused look with a knowing one. "Seriously? You're Jackie fucking Taylor, the most confident girl in school."

"Not always," she said with a wince. "Clearly."

I watched her, struggling to accept what she was saying.

"I understand if you hate me," she said, straightening up and meeting my gaze with a solemn one. "And I'll truly leave you alone, as you wish. Just say the word."

I pressed my lips together, seeing the serious expression on her face. I couldn't just say the word, because no matter how hard I'd tried to hate her, I just couldn't. All I'd really wanted was for her to like me, too.

She stood patiently, probably would have stood there for the rest of the day, waiting for me to speak. And I hated it because she'd hurt me deeply, but now I understood why. And even after everything, I still wanted her.

"Y/N?"

For once, I stopped overthinking and just kissed her, eyes closing when my lips met hers. She breathed out and lifted her hand to rest on my neck, pulling me closer and sending shivers down my spine at the contact. It was desperate, I was aware, but I couldn't get enough of her taste, her floral scent reminding me of last time, the adrenaline rush.

Without meaning to, her back hit her the desk behind her, but other than a brief readjustment, we continued to make out, my head spinning with thoughts of how good she felt so close to me. Stupid pretty girls and their stupid pretty faces.

We pulled apart for air, but I didn't let go of her just yet. My heart was thumping in my chest as I caught my breath, lips tingling as they craved for hers yet again.

"I really like you too," I said without thinking, eyes flickering to hers. "That's why it stung when you did what you did. Why I was so angry."

She nodded slowly in understanding. "I'm sorry."

I sighed, closing my eyes as I tried to collect my thoughts, but it was pretty damn difficult when she was still invading every sense of mine and I welcomed it.

"I don't know how I can trust you," I admitted, opening my eyes and being met with her determined expression.

"You can," she promised.

"What if you decide you don't want this anymore?" I asked, not wanting to doubt her feelings, but not prepared to start something that could end in heartbreak. "What if you think you've made a mistake? Start to miss Jeff? Then what, Jackie?"

"That won't happen," she said with certainty, thumb stroking my cheek.

"But it could."

She frowned, eyes boring into mine as if trying to make me understand. Finally, she said, "I'll spend forever proving you wrong."

I got lost in her eyes, so full of conviction that I had no choice but to believe her. Maybe some things were worth the risk. She certainly was.

"I'd love to see that," I said after a moment, an attempt at a joke.

She paused, trying to digest my words, and then she cracked a small smile.

"I forgive you," I told her. "I know how hard it can be to admit your feelings to yourself, especially for the first time."

She was hopeful, and I was suddenly overcome with an excitement because Jackie Taylor was stood in my arms, telling me she liked me, and I wasn't dreaming.

"Can I kiss you?" she asked, making me smile.

A simple nod and then she captured my bottom lip between hers, making the butterflies in my stomach flutter a storm. Unlike before, this kiss was slower than the others, more considerate, and I knew then and there that I'd never get sick of her lips.

She pulled away after leaving me breathless, her eyes half lidded when they looked from my lips to my eyes. "How was that for proving you wrong?"

I let out a breathy chuckle, admittedly a little flustered. "It's a start."

A smug smile appeared on her lips and then she was kissing me again, laughing as she did.

Lil bonus scene:

This was the least peppiest pep rally I'd ever been to, producing the worst photos I could take because everybody looked bored. As the principal made a speech about how 'good' the baseball team were doing this year, I snapped a few photos but ultimately sat bored in the front row. Everybody was much more excited for the star of the show – the Yellowjackets.

And after what felt like forever, the school band began to play their instruments and the soccer team began making their way in. Like a switch had been flipped, all the students in the bleachers stood up, cheering and applauding and celebrating their favourite sports team.

A much better subject, I began to photograph the crowd, all dressed in the bright yellow and blue school colours, waving signs and beaming with painted faces. And then my focus shifted to the team themselves, who were lining up before the crowd, grins on their faces. Despite the principal trying to calm everyone down so he could make his speech about how great they were doing, nobody would listen, still cheering on the team.

As I was snapping photos of them all, Jackie caught my eye and a playful smirk was on her lips when she winked at me. Even after the month we'd been together so far, she still left me nervous sometimes, thought I'd accepted that was what came with dating someone as self-assured as Jackie Taylor. We hadn't broadcasted our relationship by any means, but students at school weren't stupid and they were beginning to put it together. I didn't mind though, and I hoped she didn't either.

Finally, the principal managed to quieten everyone down long enough to make a speech worth listening to, expressing his pride in the Yellowjackets and wishing them luck as they prepared for the game tomorrow which would determine whether they'd make it to nationals.

After he finished, the band played them out, along with the audience's cheering, and then everybody began to leave. I was one of the last few to go, making my way out of the sports hall, only to be pulled to the side suddenly, realising Jackie had been waiting for me.

"Someone took their time," she said impatiently, crossing her arms, now wearing her varsity jacket over her soccer uniform.

"Someone was doing their job," I reminded her with a smile, wiggling my camera in the air.

At this, she quirked a brow. "You got my good side, right?"

I laughed. "Jackie Taylor doesn't have a bad side. She knows it too."

She began to smile, flicking her hair in agreement, and I rolled my eyes playfully.

"You look cute with your face paint on," I told her, referring to the little yellow jacket painted on her cheek.

"It's called school pride," she said, before giving me a disapproving look. "You didn't dress up."

"Again, I was busy photographing everything," I said, raising my camera for emphasis.

"Well, we can't have that," she said, tutting, and then she pulled off her varsity jacket and attempted to wrap it around me, but I stopped her.

"Wait," I said, realising what she was doing.

"What?"

I stared at her knowingly. "It's your jacket."

"Duh."

"Yeah," I agreed in a matter-of-fact tone, "but–"

"I'm giving it to you," she said simply, confused when I wouldn't put my arms in it as she held it open.

"You can't," I said, wondering if she was playing dumb or what.

She furrowed her brows. "What? Why?"

I amended my comment, "I mean, yeah, you can, but you know that people will put two and two together, right? You give me that and it'll be, like, an actual confirmation to everyone that we're dating."

Still, she wasn't following as she stared with raised brows. "Okay? And...?"

Now it was my turn to be confused. "You don't mind?"

Finally catching on to why I was questioning her, she relaxed and lowered the jacket momentarily. "That's sweet of you to ask, but no, I don't mind." She paused, before glancing at me worriedly. "Wait, do you?"

I sighed, before an amused smile formed on my lips. "No, I don't. I just didn't want you to feel like you had to."

Her expression softened, smile appearing on her lips and matching the sparkle in her eyes. "I want to. Now, come here."

This time, I let her help me into her jacket, immediately engulfed in her scent and warmth and not minding in the slightest. She stepped back, admiring her handiwork, eyes looking me up and down for several seconds too long and leaving me with a warm face.

"I should've given you this sooner," she said, impressed, and I rolled my eyes at her pride.

She chuckled before pulling me in for a quick kiss, and then we walked hand in hand down the hallway.

"You know that this means you have to be my number one fan now, right?" she asked, giving me a sideways glance.

I tried not to laugh as I said, "But I already supported the team–"

"No, not the team's fan," she cut me off nonchalantly, "mine. Me. Player number nine."

At her dead serious expression, I began to chuckle quietly. "Nine. My new favourite number, darling."

A smile crept on her lips. "Good."

#jackie taylor x you #jackie taylor imagine #jackie taylor x reader #jackie taylor #ella purnell #yellowjackets imagine #yellowjackets

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ilyasorokinn · 11 months

Text

where you lead i will follow , mat barzal

note, hello! here is it! my summer 2023 fic exchange! thank you to @wyattjohnston for putting together another amazing exchange! you are so slay! this fic is for @prettytoxicrevolver! i hope this is as slay as you hoped for and i hope you enjoy! so, i love gilmore girls too, and have a fic inspired by luke and lorelai coming soon, so i instead went with jess and rory because i am a jess girl. if you aren't, argue to a wall cause i don't care. this is loosely based on their relationship, this isn't them. just wanted to clarify. another note, sorry there are a lot of time jumps just cause i'm lazy, but i promise this is still very slay. pair, mat barzal x reader summary, mat barzal is new to town, sort of. a town he didn't want to be in. after not so good press towards the end of the season in new york, during the off-season, the team decides to send him to ivory lake, a small town where his uncle lives, just until everything dies down. the first night he's there, his uncle forces him to go dinner at his not-girlfriend's house. there, he meet's her daughter, and he realizes he has more in common with her than he thinks. warnings, none :) word count, 5175 words (this is longer than i expected lol)

(gif not mine)

As soon as Mat stepped out of the taxi, he knew he would rather be anywhere else, "Mat." His uncle Milo greeted him stiffly as he stepped off the bus.

"Milo." Mat greeted, a flat expression on his face.

"You can call me Uncle Milo, you know." Milo attempted.

"Right." Mat nodded, making his way to the back of the taxi and grabbing all his bags.

"Well, let's get you home." Milo capped his hands and grabbed one of Mat's bags and leading him towards his apartment. Milo set Mat's bags down in the room he had designated as Mat's, "All right, well you get unpacked. My friend Lauren invited us over for dinner tonight."

"And you're telling me why?"

Milo sighed, "Because you're coming along, and you can't say no." Mat sighed, "Oh, and by the way, no one knows who you are here."

"They don't?" Mat asked.

"I don't think anyone in Ivory watches hockey." Milo chuckled, "Anyways, your secret is safe with me." Milo reassured him, then walked down the hall, leaving Mat alone in his new room in a town he didn't know anything about full of people who had no idea who he was or why he was there.

Milo and Mat stood on the Y/L/N doorstep. Milo looked over at Mat, and reached over, fixing his hair, "What the hell, man?" Mat snapped, swatting his hands away.

"Did you even brush your hair?"

"I did, actually."

They both turned to the door when it swung open. Your mom, Lauren, greeted them both with a warm smile, "You must be Mat." Your mom smiled.

"Mat I am." He nodded.

"Huh, he's funny too." Lauren nodded, raising a brow, "Well, come in. Dinner's almost ready." She stepped aside so they could enter.

Mat walked into your small apartment, his eyes going around every corner and looking at every photo on the wall. It was all of you and your mom, most when you were younger but there were a couple that were newer because you both looked a little older.

"Y/N, our guests are here." Your mom hollered down the hallway. You came down the hallway, fixing your necklace.

You smiled, "You must be Mat."

"Yeah." He nodded, moving behind you to get a better look at the racks of CDs you had. You frowned, "These yours?"

"Yeah." You nodded, mirroring his previous actions.

"Wow, The Cranberries and The Jonas Brothers." He nodded, picking up the two very different CDs.

"It's called taste." You grabbed them and set them back in their spots.

"Nah, I'm not judging. I like a girl who can do both." He smirked, picking up another CD and reading the back.

"You listen to music much?" You asked, crossing your arms.

"A little." He shrugged.

"You can borrow that." You told him.

"I'm good." He shrugged.

"Hey, you two, dinner's ready." Your mom popped her head out of the kitchen and into the living room where you two were.

A couple days later, Mat was getting accustomed to life in wherever he was. He didn't know what it was called and he didn't care to know. He had picked up a small cup of ice cream and was walking down the street, heading back to Milo's apartment when he saw you leaving the music store.

You looked up as he approached you," Hey, Mat." You smiled, "How are you liking it here in Ivory?"

"It's small."

"Small."

"Much smaller than where I'm from." He admitted.

"Right." You nodded, narrowing your eyes before clearing your throat, "I should get going. I'll see you around though."

"Wait, I have something for you." He pulled out the CD he had been eying a few days ago.

"Oh, wow, you didn't have to buy it, I offered it to you."

"I know. This is your's." You were stunned.

"Right." You nodded, taking it back from him.

"See you around, Y/N."

"Yeah." You stood in your spot, stunned.

A few days later, all you could think about was Mat. The interaction a few days ago, albeit short, was still on your mind. You were... confused to say the least. He was cold the first time you met, but the second time, things felt different.

"...Now, I don't know if you have anything going on two weeks from Friday, but I sort of signed us up for a dance class." Your mom told you, snapping you out of your daze.

"Dance class?" You asked.

"Yeah."

"Why did you sign us up for a dance class? You can barely tell your right from your left and have awful hand/eye coordination."

"I don't know, I wasn't thinking." Your mom explained, "I panicked. There are a few other ladies at work doing it, so I decided why not?"

"You are insane. When you're sweating and panting, I'll laugh." You leaned back in your seat, shaking your head. The bells above the diner jingled, and you looked up, curious when you heard the diner quiet down.

Living in a small town, everyone knew everyone. It was quite the cliche. So, when news went around that Mat was in town, everyone knew and everyone started gossiping. What did he do that was so bad he had to be sent away? Why was he here?

Mat looked around the diner, taking a deep breath as everyone looked at him like he was a caged animal, "Hey, why don't we tone it down a notch, guys?" Your mom called out, but no one listened to her and continued staring.

"Hey, quit it!" You shouted, and that seemed to snap everyone out of their daze and they all went back to what they were doing. Mat shot you both an appreciative look before going to the counter to order.

As he was leaving, he stopped by your table, "Hey, thanks for that."

"It's no problem." Your mom shrugged it off, "Next time you see creeps look at us, just shout at them for us, then we'll be even." She winked.

Mat nodded with a smile, the first you'd seen from him, "Cool." He nodded, "I'll see you around. Gotta get this back to Milo." He held up his bag of food.

"Oh, yeah. He gets cranky."

"So, I've heard." Mat chuckled, before smiling and giving you a fake salute before walking out the door.

"Y/N, there's someone here for you." Your mom hollered down the hallway.

"Who is it?" You asked.

"You'll just have to see." She winked, making her way down the hallway to her own room and shutting the door.

Your brows furrowed together as you made your way down the hallway to the front door where Mat was waiting in the doorway, "Mat? What're you doing here? Is there a CD you wanna borrow or something?"

"No," He chuckled, "I wanted to apologize. For my behavior the first time we met." You were stunned at his apology and the fact that he even was apologizing.

"Oh..." You didn't know what to say, "Well, thank you. I accept your apology. I get it. If I were new in a small town and were forced to meet new people, I'd probably react the same way."

"That still doesn't excuse my behavior." You raised a brow at the way he was speaking.

"Are you okay? Did you, like, go to school with the prince or something? Why are you talking so properly?" You laughed.

"Media training."

"Media training? Are you a promise?" Your eyes widened.

He laughed, "No. I play a little hockey in New York."

"Wow, a real city boy." You teased, "You any good?"

"A little." Mat smiled with a nod. You hummed, smiling, "So, look, there isn't much to do around here, so I was wondering if you wanted to go to the music store with me." He offered.

You were shocked, "Yeah, sure." You nodded.

"Cool." He nodded, trying to play it cool, "Are you free tomorrow?"

"Yeah."

"Cool." He nodded again, "How does 1 sound?"

"Sounds good." You nodded.

The next day, you were ready way before 1 o'clock, and at exactly 1 o'clock on the dot, there was a knock on your door and you knew immediately who it was.

You jumped off the couch, smoothing down your pants, before making your way over and opening the door, "Hey." You smiled.

"Hey, you ready?" He asked, his hands shoved into his pockets. On the outside, he looked cool and carefree but on the inside, he was so nervous and could feel the nervous sweat going down his back.

"Yeah." You grabbed your bag and then locked your door. You walked and talked over to the music store, the conversation very mundane.

The second you walked through, you were off in your own world. You ditched Mat and started rifling through the records as if you weren't there a couple days ago.

"Looking for anything in particular?" He asked, looking through the box next to you.

"No, but every now and then, they get new records." You shrugged, continuing your search.

"Hey, Y/N." The owner, Vic, called out, grabbing your attention, "I think I have something for you." He waved you over. You eagerly walked over and gasped when he pulled a record from under the desk.

"Vic, have I ever told you I love you?" Your eyes were wide as he handed you the record.

He only smiled as Mat walked over in confusion, "What's so special about a Blink-182 record?"

"We moved houses a little while ago, and in the move, I lost this record. It meant everything to me. I would play it practically every day, so when it went missing, it was the worst day of my life. I've been on the lookout for one since then, but for some reason, it's been impossible."

"Until today," Vic spoke up with a proud smile.

"Until today." You nodded with a smile. You got your wallet out, ready to pay, but Mat stopped you, "What?"

"I got it." He told you, handing Vic his card.

"What? No." You shook your head.

"Can't I just do this nice thing?" He chuckled.

You pursed your lips as you tried to read him, "Fine." You related, letting Vic swipe his card so he could pay.

Mat held the door open for you as you exited, "You know, I didn't tell you that story just for you to pay for this right?"

"I know." He nodded, "I just wanted to." He shrugged.

"Well, next time you see something you like, within reason, let me buy it for you." You nudged him.

"We'll see." He smirked.

As the weeks passed, you and Mat started hanging out more. You learned about his life in New York, learned about his best friend Anthony, his sister, and his parents. You also learned about his crippling fear of dogs, which was hilarious, and he regretted it the moment you started laughing.

He learned about your love for books and your love for ABBA and Mamma Mia. He learned your mom worked at a hotel and she also shared your love of music.

Your mom was at work, so you were left alone. It was summer after all. You were startled and confused by the knock at the door, "What're you doing here?" You asked.

"Hi, Mat. Good to see you too." He joked sarcastically.

"With the formalities out of the way, my question remains. What are you doing here?"

"Well, I was doing some research. There's a hockey team nearby. It's like minor league, I don't think they even keep score, but I got us tickets. They're for today." He held up a piece of paper with information about the team.

"Let's say I wasn't free. What would you do?" You asked.

"Go to the game alone." He shrugged.

"Fine. Just give me like 10 minutes."

"You have 5." You raised a brow, "I was working up the courage to ask you and kind of wasted a lot of time. The game starts in an hour and it takes a while to get there." He scratched the back of his neck.

"Awh, do I make you nervous, Mat?" You teased.

He quickly shook his head, "No."

You laughed, "All right, five minutes." You nodded.

You found your seats but before you made it, Mat insisted on buying you a hat from one of the parents outside. The merch had the team logo on it, and most of the people inside were wearing it.

"Wow, this is much more enthusiastic than I imagined for some reason." You laughed.

"Yeah, they can get pretty rowdy." He looked around.

"So, you go to many games in New York?" You asked.

He laughed, "A few."

"What does that mean?" You asked curiously, to which he only smiled, turning his attention to the ice as they began the national anthem.

By second period intermission, Mat had explained every rule of the game to you so you understood a little of what was going on, "Hey, I'm gonna get a hotdog, you want anything?" He stood up from his seat.

"A hotdog sounds pretty good about now." You nodded with a smile.

By the time Mat got back, the second period was getting ready to start, "Sorry, line for hotdogs was long." He handed you yours with a couple packets of condiments, "Didn't know what you wanted, so I got everything."

"It's all good. Thank you." you smiled, "How much do I owe you?"

"It's on me." He shook his head as you pulled out your phone.

"What? Mat we can't keep doing this. I have money, you know." You joked.

"I know, but I feel bad that I took so long."

"It's fine. I made a friend." You pointed below you to the kid who was sitting in front of you with his family. The kid waved, a look of awe on his face.

Mat winked. He knew the look on the kid's face. It was one he was all too familiar with. The look of recognition. The kid knew who he was, but thankfully, had the manners not to say anything.

By the end of the game, you were practically a seasoned expert. You followed Mat around the arena, thinking you were going to the car, but were confused when you ended up right next to the ice.

"What are we doing here?" You asked nervously.

"Well, since it's your first game, I thought I'd make it memorable." He smiled, "Your gonna ride the Zamboni." Your eyes widened.

"What?" He pointed to the big ice machine coming down the hall.

"So, who's it gonna be?" The Zamboni driver asked, looking between you and Mat. Mat quickly, without hesitation, pointed to you, "All right, hop on." The man smiled.

You got on the Zamboni, and it felt like an out-of-body experience as you drove around the rink. Mat watched, filming the entire thing, from the entrance off the side of the ice.

"That was crazy." You exclaimed as you hopped off.

"Yeah? I thought you'd like it." He laughed, sending a smile and a wave to the driver and the couple of workers in charge of the Zamboni.

"That was so cool, Mat. Thank you. I had a lot of fun tonight."

"I'm glad I was able to be the lucky guest who took you to your first game."

"Glad you were here for it. You're a good teacher. Thanks to you, I wasn't so clueless." You laughed.

"And you're absolutely sure there's nothing going on?" Mat asked.

Lauren sighed, "Yes, Mat, I'm sure. I'm pretty sure I know my own kid's schedule."

"Okay, I just want to make sure. These tickets were very expensive and I don't think they're refundable."

"And I told you, I can pay for her ticket." Lauren insisted with another exasperated sigh.

"And I told you I got it covered," Mat told her.

Both of their heads whipped over to the door as you walked in, confused at the way they both looked over at you, "Hi."

"Hi, honey." Your mom smiled, "Well, I'm going to get going. I've got some stuff to do. I'll see you later." She grabbed her bag quickly and kissed your head before leaving.

"That was strange." You laughed, setting your stuff down on the couch, "So, what're you doing here? Another hockey game?" You asked.

"Well..."

"Oh, please don't tell me you bought hockey tickets again. I had fun, but I think the next time we go, I should buy them because I feel like a moocher and if I buy them then you can't tell me no." You ranted.

He smiled, "Not like that, but I do have another surprise."

"Oh, no."

"Oh no" what?" He asked.

"Your surprises are always big and expensive."

"The hockey tickets weren't too bad and the record I got you was even cheaper than both tickets combined."

"Mat..."

"Okay, fine, this one's a little expensive." He handed you an envelope, nodding his head when you raised a brow at him. Your entire body froze when you read what the paper said.

"Mat Barzal." You gasped, "Are you serious right now? This isn't a joke?" You started looking around the room.

"What're you looking for?" He laughed.

"Cameras." You answered.

"Stop, I'm being serious. They're real." He grabbed your arms and sat you back down.

"Holy crap." You sat down, covering your mouth in shock, "You actually got Blink-182 tickets?"

"Yeah." He nodded with a proud smile on his face.

"How?"

"I know a guy." He shrugged, to which you raised a brow, "All right, my sisters pretty good at this, so I had her get them for me."

"Well, tell your sister I love her, and thank you." You were still in shock as you kept reading the tickets, "Oh, my God, now I have to find something to wear." You rushed off to your room.

"This is insane." You shouted over the loud noise of everyone in the arena, "And so are these seats. I don't think I've ever been this close to the stage for a concert in my life." You laughed.

"Yeah, Liana is really good at these kinds of things." Mat nodded.

"I really can't thank you enough, Mat. This means so much. No one's ever done this for me."

"Eh, it was nothing." He shrugged it off.

"Okay, just take my gratitude, will you." You both laughed. You took your seats and sat in silence, just taking everything in. Mat left a few times to go to the bathroom and get food, but you sat the entire time, wanting to remember everything.

After the concert, you were on a high. The post-concert depression was hitting, but it was worth it. You quickly went through your grocery list as your mom waited for you in the car.

"Thanks." You smiled at the bagger as you rushed outside. You set the stuff in the backseat then got into the passenger side, "All right, they had everything except tomatoes." You informed her, looking over at her. You could see the worry in her brows, "What is it? Did someone die?" You asked.

"No." She shook her head, "Honey..." She paused.

"Just tell me." You exclaimed.

"It's Mat." She started.

"What about him?" You asked, your mind racing as you frantically thought of every possibility.

"He's gone." She told her, her eyes screaming with pity and sadness.

"Gone? Gone where?"

"Milo called while you were inside. Said he went home."

"Home where?"

"Back to New York. Said the team called and said everything was cleared and he could come home." She explained.

"What team?" You asked nervously.

"You didn't know?"

"Know what, Mom?" Your brows furrowed together again, this time in confusion and hurt.

"Mat plays for the New York Islanders. A pro hockey team, like the big league. He was sent to Ivory because of some bad press and now that it's all cleared up they called him back." You sat back in your seat, taking in what she had just said. She watched you, worried, "You okay?"

"I want to go home." You told her.

"All right." She nodded.

As soon as you got home, you made a beeline for your room and stayed there for the rest of the night. You laid in bed, not even moving when your mom called for dinner.

She leaned in the doorway, watching you stare at the wall, "I'm gonna just leave this here." She said, setting the plate down on your nightstand, then sitting on your bed. "You feeling okay?"

"Why didn't he tell me?"

"I can't speak for him, but maybe he just wanted to forget about whatever was going on in New York." She suggested.

"But I wouldn't have judged him or said anything."

"I know that." She nodded, hugging you and kissing your head.

"I really liked him, Mom." You whispered, your voice going quiet as your eyes filled with tears.

"I know you did." She whispered, her own eyes filling with tears as she did her best to comfort you.

The months dragged on and eventually, you moved on. It took a lot of pushing from your mom and even Milo, but you started hanging out with a guy from your school and one thing led to another and you started going out.

"Y/N, Jared's here." Your mom announced.

"Coming!" You hollered back, fixing your shirt before hustling down the hall where Jared was standing, talking to your mom, "Hey, you ready to go?"

"Yeah." He smiled. You said your goodbyes to your mom before you were out and walking through Ivory. Jared was telling a joke, which made you smile.

"What is it?" Jared asked, noticing that you stopped laughing. He followed your line of sight over to someone across the street, "Who's that?"

"It's, uh," You swallowed harshly, "It's no one." You shook your head, "Let's go." You grabbed his hand and pulled him down the street.

Mat saw you from across the street and even from across the street, he could make out the look of surprise and hurt on your face. He saw you drag the guy who he could only assume was your boyfriend down the street and couldn't deny the pang it sent to his heart.

The next day, you had sufficiently ignored and avoided Mat, somehow. How you did it was a mystery even to you but you did it. All that progress came crashing down when he walked into the diner.

You were waiting for your mom and he had seen you from outside and rushed in, "There you are." He sighed, trying to catch his breath after running in.

You sighed, angrily setting your cup down as he took the seat in front of you, "Look, you have every right to be upset with me..."

"Hell yeah, I have the right to be upset with you. For one, you lied to me about everything, and two, you left without any explanation or reason. I had to find out through Milo."

"I didn't lie about everything."

"Oh, no, just your occupation and the real reason you were here."

"Look, I don't get why you're upset." Mat sighed, and the moment the words left his mouth, he knew he messed up.

You scoffed, "You have some nerve, you know? I get it, you didn't want people to know who you were or why you were here, but I thought, I really thought we had something special but then you just leave. No note, no email, not even a message in a freaking bottle!." You exclaimed, shaking your head, and gathered your stuff.

"I tried."

"I don't believe you." You turned and walked out the door, ignoring the looks the other patrons in the diner were giving you.

It was like was against you because as you turned the street with Jared, Mat was walking down the other side, his arm wrapped around some girl's shoulder, a girl you had never seen.

You slowed your pace but it was already too late to cross the street, "Huh, funny seeing you here." Mat commented.

"Yeah." You sighed.

"Do you two know each other?" Jared asked.

"At one point." You nodded, keeping your eyes on Mat.

"Well, are you going to introduce us?" The girl Mat was with asked impatiently.

"Right," Mat nodded, "This is Alexis."

"This is my boyfriend, Jared." You pointed to your boyfriend.

"And this is awkward." Alexis muttered under her breath, "Mat, I wanna go."

"Alright, yeah, we gotta go." Mat grabbed her hand again and they walked past you.

You sighed, linking arms with Jared again as continued your walk, "So, who was that?"

"Mat. He's just a friend, well a former friend." You corrected.

"Just a friend?" Jared raised a brow.

"Just a friend." You nodded, reassuring Jared.

Mat hadn't planned to be in Ivory for too long, but he wanted to make sure you accepted his apology before he left. Milo had caught a cold and Mat could barely cook, so Mat braved the cold and went outside to get food from the diner when he saw you and Jared standing in the park, seemingly in the middle of an argument. He didn't mean to eavesdrop, but you were in public and he was just there.

"Are you serious? You promised he was just a friend, but ever since he got here, you've been weird." Jared told you.

"Jared, please, can we do this somewhere else?"

"No, be honest with me, do you like him?" He asked. By that point, everyone in Ivory was listening in on your conversation.

"What are you talking about?" You balked, "This is so stupid, Jared. You're making no sense."

"I'm making perfect sense. Before Mat came to town, we were perfect. Everything was going great. Then he came to town and it was like a switch had flipped. Everything changed, Y/N," The way he said your name hurt.

You knew he was right, but maybe you were too blind and hurt by what Mat had done to see it, "Jared, please."

"No, no more. I'm done. I'm sorry." He shook his head, shoving his hands in his pockets as he headed for his car down the street.

You stood there, regretting not wearing a jacket. As you looked around, you then realized just how many people had heard your fight and it was just the icing on the cake.

You were tired and as soon as the first tear fell, you were running as far and as fast as you could. Mat stood in his spot frozen in confusion. Everyone was watching you, not stepping in to help, so he decided to do it.

"Hey!" He shouted, his voice echoing loudly enough for everyone to hear him, "Quit it!" Everyone quickly went back to what they were doing.

He sighed, following after you as fast as he could. He found you sitting on a bridge, over a lake. He could hear you crying and sniffling as he caught his breath.

"Y/N...?" He called out your name quietly so it wouldn't startle you, "Can I sit next to you?" You didn't say anything, so he took it as his chance to sit down, "Wow, you are a fast runner." He felt his lungs burn with every word he spoke and every breath he took.

"Took track in high school." You told him, sniffling as you both looked out onto the water, "Was it bad?"

"Nah." He shook his head.

"Don't lie to me right now, Mat." You sighed.

He hesitated, "All right, it was a little bad." He admitted.

"God." You sighed, wiping your eyes.

"But don't worry, it'll all be over by next week."

"Great, so I can't go outside for the next week." You sighed angrily, "You can go, Mat. I'll be okay."

"No." He shook his head.

"Just go." You repeated.

"I'm not leaving you alone." He stated. You sighed, rubbing your temple, "Me and Alexis, we were never dating." He admitted.

"What?" You asked, brows furrowing together at his random outburst.

"We were never together. We went on a date, yeah, but nothing more."

"Why are you telling me?"

"Just so you know you aren't alone." He reached over and grabbed your hand. He smiled when you looked at your hands together, but didn't do anything to remove your hand from his.

After Mat had followed you down to the lake, you had kind of been avoiding him. It hadn't been intentional at first, but it sort of just happened.

Mat saw you across the street and started crossing the street to see you, but you quickly ducked into a store and lost him. That was when he knew something was wrong. He thought he did something wrong, so that was why he avoided you.

You knew you had to tell him what was on your mind, so you decided to go to his place and tell him what was wrong. You knocked on his door and saw when he opened. thedoor, he looked like he wanted to shut it in your face.

"Before you shut the door, please let me say what I want to say, then you can shut the door in my face." You cut him off.

"All right." He nodded, crossing his arms.

"Look, I'm sorry I've been avoiding you. It's immature of me and it's wrong because you didn't do anything. It's all me." You admitted.

"What do you mean?"

"I like you, Mat. Like, really like you, and when you left, it hurt. I was hurt, and when you came back, I was surprised. You came back just as fast as you left. It was all happening too fast. I had gotten over you, I was with Jared, then you came back and threw a wrench into everything."

"Oh, my apologies." He narrowed his eyes as he spoke, sarcastically of course.

You narrowed your eyes back at him before you continued, "I'm trying to apologize for the way I've been acting and I just wanted to tell you that I really liked you and really liked spending time with you before you jet off to New York again and leave without a goodbye." You shrugged.

He sighed, running a hand across his face, "Y/N..." He breathed out.

"That's all I had to say. You can shut the door now if you want." You told him, turning on your heel and walking down the stairs.

Mat's brain was slower than his feet because before he knew it, he was calling out your name and picking up his pace. He grabbed your arm softly and spun you around.

He ignored the confused look on your face before leaning in for a kiss. When you pulled away, your brows furrowed in confusion, "Is that you saying you feel the same way?"

"Yes." He laughed, "I like you, too, Y/N."

"Oh, okay." You nodded, stunned by what just happened, "Can we kiss again?"

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featherandferns · 11 months

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fluff 14 maybe?

14. Tell me a secret?

This is very wholesome and sappy, so hope that's okay. I'm dosed up to the max on pain relief for this stupid cold I've managed to catch so I'm feeling extra simpy today.

Feel free to request! - prompt list

sea and sand - prompt 14

The woodsy smell of pine intertwines with the scent of burning. You and JJ are the stragglers of the Pogues, sat around the campfire outside of the chateau. There’s a blanket draped over your lap to save your ankles from the skeeters. Occasionally, one lands on your neck and you bat it away. The two of you are sat on a chunky log. JJ has his pocketknife out and is cutting dents into the bark. He’s humming a Red Hot Chilli Pepper’s song under breath and you’re tapping your foot along to the rhythm absentmindedly. In your hand is a skewer. You’re roasting a marshmallow over the dying flames. Neither of you are talking. It’s not because you dislike one another. On the contrary, in fact. You and JJ are closer than sand and sea. It’s simply because sometimes words aren’t needed to keep a conversation; silence works better. That to say, when a thought passes your mind, you let it out into the summer night air.

“Tell me a secret?"

“A secret?” JJ asks, pausing his humming.

“Mhm.”

“What kinda secret? A good secret or a bad secret?”

“Good secret. Duh.”

“You gonna blackmail me with it?” he wonders. He’s still stabbing at the bark.

“Depends if it’s good for blackmailing.”

“Fair that,” JJ mumbles.

He sits up and looks into the fire. You pull back your skewer and inspect your marshmallow. Could do with a bit more on the edge…

“I don’t like peas,” JJ says.

You snort and look to him, returning your skewer to dangle above the flames.

“That’s not a secret.”

“Sure it is,” JJ shrugs, meeting your gaze. There’s a faint smile on his face. Eyes tired and lazy from the cannabis and booze. “Nobody else knows it.”

“Nobody?”

“Nope.”

“Not even John B?”

“Hell no, man,” JJ chuckles. You laugh too.

“But it’s not exactly a secret,” you remind him. “Just a fact.”

“Aren’t all secrets just facts, though?” JJ philosophises.

You roll your eyes. Bringing your skewer back to you, you lean down to retrieve a graham cracker from the packet resting by your feet, sliding the marshmallow atop.

“I still feel cheated,” you tell him, taking a bite.

You hold out the s’more for him to have a bite too. He doesn’t take it from your hold. Instead, JJ leans down and takes a bite, making you laugh.

“You tell me a secret then,” JJ says through his chews.

Swallowing your mouthful, you frown. “Why should I?”

“Tit for tat.”

“But I don’t really have any secrets,” you lie.

JJ throws his head back. “Liar. Everyone has a secret.”

“Like not liking peas?”

“Yeah!”

You laugh with JJ.

The fire casts an orange glow on his face. Outlines his jaw and traces the curve of his lips. Reflects brightly in his eyes, as he stares down at you. Something about it makes everything feel more intense, and you look away, down at your half eaten s’more. Taking another bite, you debate over your many secrets. Some are fickle and funny, like how you used to say goodnight to every single one of your named teddy bears (of which, there were many) or how you used to have a fear of animatronics and left a Chuck-E-Cheese crying your eyes out, at a childhood party. Others are die-hard, take-to-the-grave sort of things.

“A secret, huh?” you repeat, quieter now.

JJ nods. He seems to have mellowed out more. Extends his legs out and crosses them at the ankles. His cap has long since been abandoned, earlier in the night. You prefer him without it, if only slightly. It let’s you admire him as a whole. The unruliness of his hair and the defined youthfulness of his features. A gold rush that everybody wants to get their hands on but nobody can ever keep a grasp of. Impermanent like riches.

You look to him when you reply, perhaps watching for a reaction. “You’re my favourite.”

“Your favourite?”

“Mhm,” you nod. Pick at the crumbs of your half-eaten snack. Bask in the crackles of the dying fire.

“Your favourite what?”

“My favourite person,” you shrug.

JJ smiles at you. It’s different to his usual smiles – giddy and playful and mischievous. It’s serene and somewhat flustered, dare you say. Then again, the shine to his cheeks could be from the heat of the fire.

“Really?”

“Really,” you quietly chuckle.

Grinning now, he nudges his shoulder against yours. It’s sad, how after so much time in his company, it still thrills you with excitement. The way you feel about JJ is the type of puppy-dog love a person usually feels only once in their life. Typically in youth, when you’re too dumb to know anything else but idolisation. But what a thing to put on a pedestal, huh? Someone who looks as if they walked out of a sketchbook.

“You’re my favourite person too,” he says to you.

“Don’t bullshit me,” you snort, looking out to the fire. Your appetite has gone suddenly. The air feels thick.

“I ain’t bullshitting anybody.”

“Yeah right,” you say. “John B’s your favourite.”

“He’s alright,” JJ sighs. Looks out to the flames himself. You can only half see his face in your peripheral. “Just don’t think about kissing John B all that much, so I guess that makes you my favourite.”

Darting your head around, you take in his side profile. Your smile is gone. “What?”

“You heard me.”

“Well, I wanna hear it again,” you dumbly say.

JJ chuckles. He looks to you, chin help up high, confident and self-assured. But you know him well. Better than you think, sometimes. His fingers are tapping nervously at the bark of the wood the two of you sit on, side by side. Sea and sand: never one without the other.

“I wanna kiss you,” JJ privately tells you. “I think about it more than I probably should, to be honest.”

You’re face feels a little numb but something tells you that you’re smiling. Small and serendipitous.

“Now that’s a secret, Maybank,” you reply.

There’s the briefest flash of his smile as he chuckles, and the briefest dart of his eyes glancing to your lips, and then he’s leaning down to kiss you. The warmth it breathes into you is stronger than any bonfire you’ve borne witness to. The s’more is ditched in favour of you reaching up, cupping at his face. As you kiss, melding into one another the way marshmallow melts, there’s no worries of what might come next, or anxieties about what this means for your friendship. There’s simply the two of you, like always. Like it should be and like it was intended. Sea and sand.

#jj #jj x reader #jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jj drabble #jj maybank drabble #drabbles #drabble #prompts #14 #jj x reader drabble #jj maybank x reader drabble #obx #obx drabbles #obx fic #outer banks #outer banks drabble #outer banks fic #fluff

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hms-tardimpala · 3 months

Text

Ficbinding: Saw collection

Warning: long post

As you may have noticed, I recently got into Saw, and the fanfic quality is phenomenal. The writers in this fandom are exceptional and unafraid to write the kind of freaky shit I love. In a month, I've read enough amazing fics to fill a small book, so I did!

As usual, the fics come first. There are nine, by four different authors (I found writers I love right off the bat in this fandom).

By @theflirtmeister:

Our land is sharp and glorious (3.5k, E) (special mention to this one for being the first Saw fic I ever read <3)

Tell me sweetheart (1.6k, M)

What suits your taste (3.3k, E)

By @degloved (Wolverton on AO3):

See me bare my teeth for you (1.9k, E)

The Issue series (3 fics, 7.5k, E)

Pig on speed dial by @gurokatt (2.9k, E)

Helping hand (1.9k, E) is by an anonymous author I salute, wherever they are.

These are all great fics I wanted to bind to make rereads easier and I recommend them all strongly (just mind the tags). A big thank you to the authors for replying positively when I reached out, I hope this is a good surprise!

Now let's talk shop.

This is my smallest book to date, and I have a good reason for that. As silly as it sounds, I wanted to make a book that could fit in a pocket of Amanda's cargo pants^^ I chose red for the cover and black for the headbands and bookmark to mimic the Jigsaw coat. This cloth is amazing: the pictures above show the book in real lighting (I took them at the window to catch what light was left today). It's a non-uniform blood-like dark red, which is perfect for Saw. It's also slightly reflective, as if it were slick, as you can see in this video under artificial lighting:

I went crazy with the cogs, I know.

I'm very happy with the fonts I chose: "s'AWsome" for the title, "impact label" for the fic titles (reversed for the author names), "underway" for the drop caps and "reem kufi" for the body of the text.

I decorated this book more! Every fic starts with an image of an object related to Saw (I used chains, blades, a puzzle piece, a bear trap, a scar, etc...). I also put the title of the fic and the author's name at the top of the pages. I wish I could have put something between these and the page numbers, but it would have been too small to look good. I used barbed wire for breaks in the stories because of course I did.

I'm especially proud of the "underway" drop caps, look!

They look like fingerprints!!! The oily residue and everything, you know!

What didn't work?

This time, most of what I did worked perfectly. Well, I did have to print, cut, fold, sew and glue this three times because I made mistakes when trimming the textblock. But in the end it's fine because I don't think the uneven edges are jarring when it comes to a Saw collection. There's a small spot of glue on the cover that I'll be the only one to notice. I could have strenghtened the back less for a book this size, it would have made it bendier.

One the whole, I love this book and the stories inside it and, as a craftsman, I'm very proud of myself.

Reminder: Feel free to ask me about materials, fonts and tools, it won't bother me at all to tell you what I used, but I'm too lazy rn to write it in this post that's long enough already.

#I hope this will prompt some people to check out these fics #thanks again to the authors for being super cool because I'm always anxious to reach out <3 #saw #ficbinding #bookbinding #coffinshipping #my bookbinding #I think that's enough tags for now

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erinsintra · 5 months

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The wild world of Brazilian folklore

Been a while since I write anything with more than three lines for the five people who bother reading them. Well, I'm bored and too lazy to start looking a job today, so here you go.

I've seen a lot of people here talking about American folklore, Greek mythology, African mythology (and they always call it "African mythology" as if it's one country - seriously, imagine if we called Irish folklore "European mythology". it makes no sense), but I'm yet to see anyone talking about Brazilian folk myths. So here are some of the ones I like the most.

I encourage you to look for more on your own, because there's a shitton of them and I can't fit everything on a single post.

Saci Pererê

Perhaps the most famous mythological creature throughout the country, the Saci is a mischievous, fae-like being commonly depicted as a short black man with one leg wearing a red cap. He is famous for his pranks, which are usually mostly harmless, such as switching the contents of sugar and salt pots and tying knots on horses' hair. He's also said to control the winds and ride dustdevils, escaping faster than a regular person can run.

In some versions of the legend, the red cap on his head is the source of all his powers, and by stealing it, a person can control the Saci as they please. They can also be trapped inside a bottle with a cross drawn across it, and one can also make a deal with him by offering booze and tobacco.

Boitatá

An immortal eldritch being that roams the forests of the countryside, usually depicted as a giant flaming snake. Merely looking at it is enough to drive a man mad, and the only way to escape it is by standing completely still with one's eyes closed. It is said that once, when the world was plunged into darkness, the Boitatá feasted on the eyes of those who could not see.

Boiúna

Isn't it weird how every pantheon ever has an evil snake on it? The Boiúna is a giant sea serpent with shapeshifting powers that feeds on the vessels that try to approach it by mimicking the shape of a human ship.

In some versions, he's also said to shift into human form and once had an affair with a human woman. More on that later.

Bruxas (Witches)

Brazilian witches tend to be quite different from their European counterparts. For starters, they are not women who made a deal with the devil - a witch is born as a witch, and depending on the version, she's either the seventh child of a family or the offspring of a priest and a pagan (i.e, nonchristian) woman.

Witches don't fly on brooms, they don't need to. Most can turn into a moth at will, and they're also said to be able to pass through small spaces by stretching their bodies like a cartoon character. Have you ever seen a Brazilian moth? They're bigger than some birds.

Witches are also said to drink the blood of pagan children by landing on their bellybuttons while they sleep and drinking it up while in moth form. A big-ass moth inside your house is usually a bad omen, and you better not touch it with your bare hands. But witches also really love their booze, and you can make a deal with one by offering her some alcohol.

There's also the Cumacanga, a little known variation of witch with a detachable head and hair made of flames that scares of people during the night. In order to figure out her identity, one must gift her a needle, and she'll soon arrive at your doorstep in human form to return it to you when morning comes. I don't know why, but some of those creatures are very polite.

Mula sem Cabeça (Headless Mule)

If there's anything those myths have taught me, is that you shouldn't fuck a priest. At all.

The headless mule is - rather obviously - a large equine with a flaming bonfire for a head that roams around destroying everyone it sees. If a priest breaks his vows and marries a woman, she'll become a headless mule the next Friday night (the legend is very specific about the day for some reason). In order to protect yourself from one, you must lie down and cover your teeth and nails, for they're attracted by shiny things. You can turn a mule back into a human by stabbing it with an iron knife.

Lobisomem (Werewolf)

Brazilian werewolves, like witches, are very different from the Hollywood version. While it is common for a human to become a werewolf by being bitten by another one, most werewolves are born that way - either the seventh male child of a family or the offspring of a priest and a pagan woman, pretty much the boy version of a witch - and awake their powers during puberty. Moreover, they are rarely true wolves: most are a combination of various farm animals and a few do not resemble canines at all. As with the Hollywood variant, werewolves are weak against silver and holy water, and they can also be cured of their condition by - and I have to quote this - "being impaled by a thorn from an orange tree planted on a cemetery during a Friday". No idea how the fuck they figured that out.

It's oftentimes said that, in order to prevent a seventh son from becoming a werewolf, he must be given a female name - and the opposite is true for witches.

Labatut

The Labatut is a beastial figure with a boar-like face, prominent tusks and a single large eye that roams through the Northeastern countryside. He was apparently based on Pedro Labatut, a French mercenary who fought for the Empire during the independence war and gained a reputation for being quite ruthless against his opponents.

Corpo Seco (Dried Corpse or Dried Body)

The Corpo Seco was born as a human boy. Though his name varies from tale to tale, every version agree that he was an absolute asshole - if he were alive today, he would most likely be a moderator for an incel forum. He once tied his mother to a chair and beat her up after she yelled at him, and friends and family alike were terrified of him. It is said that, when he died, not a single person wept for him, and no one attended his funeral. More than that, the Earth itself spat out his corpse after they'd buried him, and neither Heaven nor Hell claimed his wretched soul. He still wanders the country, neither alive nor dead, occasionally weeping in the distance. Some versions also claim that, since he's technically not dead, his hair and nails never stopped growing, giving him a rather gruesome look.

Loira do Banheiro (Blonde girl of the bathroom)

Oh, that one used to scare me shitless as a kid. The blonde girl of the bathroom is a Hanako-esque ghost that haunts schools and public bathrooms alike. Most versions differ when talking about her past, but she was either a victim of bullying who committed suicide in her school's bathroom or a girl obsessed with her own appearance that got sucked inside the mirror whilst gazing at her own reflection. Either way, she's a spirit that can be summoned in a public bathroom.

Again, every version has a different way of summoning her - yelling curse words at the mirror, flushing all the toilets at once, turning on all the faucets, etc. Where I grew up in, they used to say you had to yell her birth name three times whilst looking at the mirror. If you managed to successfully summon her, she would either kill you, grant you a wish, or just scare your ass.

Apparently, her story was based on the life of Maria Augusta de Oliveira Borges, a real woman who died under mysterious circumstances back in imperial times. So, uh, if you want to summon her or something, there's her full name.

Cobra Norato and Maria Caninana

Remember when I said that the Boiúna once had an affair with a human mortal? These two are their kids.

Abandoned by their mother on the side of a river, the two giant snakes soon learned how to talk by mimicking human fishermen. Norato was a kind soul who helped those who came near the river, but Maria was a greedy bitch who saw humans as little more than food. At some point, they fought each other over their disagreements, and Norato ended up killing his sister.

Norato desperately wanted to be a human, but lifting his curse was no easy task: in order to turn him into a man, one would have to feed him three drops of breast milk and pat him with an iron stick while he slept. No, I am not making this up. Luckily, he found a hunter willing to do the job.

Boto Cor de Rosa (Pink Dolphin)

In case you didn't know, pink dolphins are real. They can be found in the Amazonas river and its surroundings, though they're in risk of extinction due to overhunting.

But this guy is no mere dolphin, he is THE pink dolphin. He can talk, he can shapeshift, and he wants to bone a hot lady.

The boto will often turn into an attractive man with a bald head and a fancy hat, which hides the breathing hole thing dolphins have. I personally like to imagine him as a tan-skinned Walter White. Any woman who meets him will soon be charmed by his looks, and he'll frequently involve himself romantically with the locals for quite some time. It never lasts for long, though: he will sudden disappear without a trace, presumably back to the water where he belongs, always right after the woman he's involved with finds out that she's pregnant. Sadly, none of the versions of the legend ever mention what happens to his child. Imagine if your dad was a talking dolphin.

So, uh, that's it. There's probably more creatures I forgot, so I again recommend you to search for more stuff on your own.

Also, if you want to use any of these in a fantasy setting or anything, feel free to do it! I am so fucking tired of works whose mythology is just a one-to-one ripoff of Greek or Norse myths. If anyone starts bitching at you about cultural appropriation or whatever, show them this post and tell them I gave you my permission. Now, back to our usual shitposting.

#mythology #myths #folklore #brazil #brasil #fantasy #story ideas #character idea #fyp #fypツ #memes #tumblr fyp #explorepage #explore #fypage #foryou #dumb shit #werewolves #werewolf #Tumblr

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tamsinbeybey-she-no-porcupine · 7 months

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okay this is for the "I say Havers"-meta anon because I feel a bit bad that I didn't give you what you wanted🙈

So we pick it up again after, the last post I showed you.

Captain says his line about the cover drive, Havers thanks him and then this happens :

(Two btws: -I remember making one of my silly little lazy posts with "say something I'm giving up on you" to this image

-just found out whilst looking for the GIF: I actually can tell from Gifs that only have his facial expression what has been said to him and at which point we are in the scene,solely based on his expression😮 )

Sorry back to the meta:

Would you look at him. In the first scene we have with him Cap dismisses him by saying "carry on" and Havers gets back to his duties. But here Cap, all wrapped up in his feelings made room for a pause by not saying anything after his cricket comment.

Now Havers says this and of course he can't just leave,he has to be dismissed and my boy has places to be (north-africa). But this is clearly not him asking for further commands etc.

Look at his eyes completely fixed on Cap and his raised eyebrow and the movement of the head. It's simutaneously the gesture one makes to remind someone that it's their turn to speak or do something as well as it looks like he tries to not only encourage Cap but is trying to indicate that "If you have anything to say, now is the time". Basically it looks like he's desperately waiting/yearning/hoping that Cap will adress his feelings/confess his feelings. He's almost trying to nudge him mentally to spit something out. (Still believe His inner monologue here was "say something, say something, say something!")

But Cap just confirms that that's all and in this second Havers realises that Cap won't say anything. And look how dissapointed he looks because it's just not happening. He's giving up and very very briefly has to get his facial expression in check. he turns to leave

(Excuse the screenshot quality I'm typing this on my phone and had to take this from YouTube)

So Cap now panicks a bit because this is probably the last conversation they'll be having and he at least has something to say that resembles a good bye or an I miss you just something to tell Havers what he means to him. So at the last minute:

and of course Havers whips around with an expectant look the only difference is he does not look like he's screaming internally wondering If Cap will confess anymore. I guess because he's already in his stiff upper lip/professional mode because my god the man can hide his emotions Like 1000 times better than Cap. Also he has given up after Cap gave him emotional whiplash twice already in this conversation. But nonetheless there is still a faint hope which is shown by how fucking fast he turns towards him.

So the next part hast been said by others before. Cap tries to say something, his courage leaves him, he shakes his head to himself and settles for

With this pleading look on his face of I dunno "please I mean it"? "please you have to understand/to see"? "Please believe me when I say"?

Wordwise though he's going the semi professional route of "I really liked working with you because I like you as a colleague"

So now Havers reaction which I for the longest time could not get. I mean i get the nod that's a "acknowledged....thank you ...you too... bye"

But the smile? So yeah now I gotta say first of all professional mode is on. But also in a way he got an "It's a shame that you're going, I wish you we're staying" but just not as a romantic confession. So he's smiling because at least he got that and it was sincere? Also happy that Cap did at least say something about his emotions towards him in the end?

seriously interpretations on that smile are very welcome.

Sorry this all is again incoherent babbling, but at least it's now about the right part of the scene.

#Anon ask #bbc ghosts #Redding Weddy #Capvers #Caphavers #Meta #My soft boy and my creaky boy #I Love them your honour #I am going to be so late for Work now whooopsie #Lieutenant Havers #BBC Ghosts the Captain

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starrulet · 26 days

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My Experience with P5R

So, I went into this game with Zero Knowledge™ of what it held. I only bought it, because I knew you got to play as a phantom thief, everyone loves Joker and everyone had at one point called it the Perfect Game™ (oh, and it was on sale).

First Playthrough

Start up game. Absolute banger of a first hour. Everything is on point, this truly is the Perfect Game™ when it comes to graphical interface. Also, hands down best intro segment I have ever played. Immediately 100% invested in the game.

I write my name. I'm too lazy to look up something authentically Japanese online, so I name him KURO KNIGHT. I do not realize that small caps were available and this does haunt me for the next 100+ hours.

I discover the ability to "befriend" shadows. I attempt to befriend every shadow I meet.

Igor tells me to kill two of my personas. I am heartbroken and horrified by their execution. I absolutely hate the function and vow to never use it.

(Arsène is never sacrificed. At the time, I did not know this is uncommon for the first playthrough).

I max out the amount of personas I can currently have. I am heartbroken. I want to befriend all the shadows, but the game won't let me.

I am introduced to social stats. I make the wild assumption that these will passively effect the story for good/bad endings, as well as chances of success in Palaces (e.g. charm will increase likelihood of befriending a shadow, knowledge improves Third Eye, etc.), instead of being a "you must have stat 4 to pass to the next story segment" role. I immediately start investing hard on maxing my stats.

I do not know how to check Confidant Availability on the map. I only go to meet confidants if they've texted me.

(As you can imagine, this will royally screw me over later)

A teacher smacks me in the head with a piece of chalk. I'm told if I improve my proficiency, I can dodge it. Guess which social stat I start heavily investing in.

I am introduced to Maruki. I am told I have until November to max my relationship with him. He is immediately given priority over all other Confidants. Keep in mind, I only meet confidants if they text me.

I meet Kasumi. I'm not that interested in her, until I realize she only has a 5-star confidant bond. I decide to max her out, because that will be easy to reach.

I reluctantly start executing personas. Arsène is never executed, even though he's becoming so weak, I can no longer use him in fights.

While on the main menu, I notice Joker's shoes for the first time. And then I check and yes. Joker has the worst shoes in existence. I hate them. Everything about his phantom thief outfit is on point, except for those monstrosities.

I go ballistic over no one asking why "Pleasant Boy" heard their conversation about pancakes. I am angry. Enraged. I want answers, but the characters don't seem to catch onto the pancakes. I am deeply upset.

This is when I start questioning the intelligence and competence of the Phantom Thieves. It will effect how I perceive them later on.

I officially meet Akechi. I instantly take a strong liking to him, because he is the absolute WORST person to befriend as a phantom thief. The pancake thing makes me also super suspicious of him, further adding to him being a BAD person to befriend.

Akechi gives me the Sleuthing Instinct Skill. Akechi is instantly my favourite Confidant and I am determined to unlock the rest of the skills on his Confidant route.

A teacher throws chalk at me. I dodge. The whole class is amazed. I'm smug about it.

I meet "Becky". I die of second-hand embarrassment.

Why can I not gift Morgana sushi when I want to? Let me feed my cat sushi.

Every new palace, the Phantom Thieves are like "No! They don't have a persona, they can't help!" and "Leave it to us experienced pro phantom thieves B) ", only to end up relying on the formally non-persona user. I really don't feel like they're competent, since they suck at protecting civilians so much, that the civilian has to awaken a persona to save everyone or they'll all die.

I finally have enough guts to call up "Becky". When she arrives, the second-hand embarrassment is so strong, I exit the game without saving and have to replay the last two in-game weeks.

I realize that Yusuke, Makoto and Futaba are not listed as my Confidants. I panic and despair. I have failed my friends.

(I am unaware that minimal confidant bond does not mean we are not in-game friends and that not maxing out a Confidant Bond does not have too much impact on the story...)

The first time I ram into a shadow with the van, I burst into laughter. It was entirely unexpected.

I befriend Chihaya. I can't help but notice how much of a Meet-Cute this is and decide that I will pursue a relationship with her.

In Hawaii, I spend the day with Mishima and Ryuji. I am unaware that this is because I failed to develop higher bonds with other Confidants.

I get my first part-time jobs to complete Mementos quests. I wonder why anyone would bother with jobs, since you can get more money in Mementos than at work.

It starts occurring to me, that maybe I'm not supposed to blast through palaces in one run. There are benefits to multiple visits. I continue to complete palaces in one run.

I get stuck on my second boss - Haru's dad. Even grinding in Mementos does not save the day. I look up advice online.

I go out of my way to meet Hifumi. I cry. I want to max out her bond, she's instantly proven herself so useful.

I defeat the boss by the skin of my teeth. I never want to face that boss again.

Akechi officially joins the team. I am ecstatic, but I am dreading it. I love him, but I still have that pancake thing in my head and I am fully aware that the rest of the Phantom Thieves do not like him. AT ALL. Which can only mean the narrative has labelled him a bad guy (otherwise they would have quickly warmed up to him, like they did with Haru), which means he is only temporarily on the team, which means he will do something nefarious because the narrative said he must. Also, he is conspicuously the only one wearing white as a main colour. So. Further fuel for the "not part of the group!!!" fire. I am deeply upset by this. I still love him, even though I know I will have to soon accept his role in the narrative, whatever that may be.

A teacher throws chalk at me. I'm one step away from maxing out proficiency. It smacks into my face. The cold war wasn't over after all. The teacher has improved his aim.

I try to start a Confidant bond with Haru. She snaps at me and I'm so terrified by the reaction from the otherwise sweet and polite girl, I never attempt to talk to her again.

"I hate you." Akechi, as your only friend, please go see a therapist.

It's November and I haven't maxed out my relationship with Maruki. I am not getting opportunities to do so via text. I despair, because Maruki has grown to be a favourite of mine.

Maruki wants to bid me personally farewell. My Confidant Bond with him maxes out during our tearful goodbyes. I whoop and cheer that I got to the end of his Confidant route, oblivious to what this means.

Akechi says we should leave stealing the treasure to the last second. The team instantly agrees. I get mad, because when I try to do that, the team nags at me and complains that we should really do this ASAP, but when Akechi suggests it, it's fine-

The police raid Sae's palace and I assume they're cognitions from the nearby cognitive police station, not real police. From that, I deduce that the interrogation scene is taking place in the Metaverse and not the real world.

Yeah. I wasn't wrong, but I wasn't right either.

Endgame spoilers under the cut.

Endgame

The game keeps telling me to think carefully about my choices. I become paranoid. I am in interrogation and I become confused.

I am so confused by the game, I start thinking that maybe my instincts are wrong, and I end up ratting out my friends while being interrogated.

Sensing this was the Wrong Option, I exit the game and reload the last save file without finding out if it really was the wrong option.

I was right. It was the Wrong Option, since I am now watching the Right Option unfold. I am frustrated, because if the game hadn't been so insistent I "think carefully" and "consider my actions seriously", I would have instinctively not named my allies. BUT because it was nagging me, I thought if I went with the obvious option, I'd end up with the bad ending.

I'm an overthinker, ok.

Akechi comes to kill me. He looks utterly unhinged, to the point it crosses over into hilarity.

(Akechi gets one(1) plus point for looking incredible while killing the policeman. Like, that was insanely slick. Several thousand minus points for killing Joker though. And then nudging his head to check if he's dead, like Akechi, you shot him through the head what do you expect-)

It turns out, the Phantom Thieves did know about the pancake thing. But I'm 60+ hours into the game at this point and I do not have the mental capacity to retcon that much time to fit this reveal into a cohesive story. As such, despite making sense and the game setting up for this, my brain does not completely accept this plot reveal.

In other words, I would have strongly preferred it if we continued having 100% of the protagonists' perspective, instead of the 90% we ended up having, to keep the 10% (knowledge that Akechi will betray them, and the plan to fool Akechi) secret.

Like, no. We didn't need that to be a "plot twist". It was obvious from the start. Just admit it upfront next time.

I also don't buy into the Phantom Thieves being smart enough to concoct such a plan, because they've been making things up as they go along since Day 1 and have been heavily reliant on picking up new team members to survive Palaces and defeat Bosses. As said. By not addressing the pancake thing, my opinion of them being competent phantom thieves was shattered. I can't unsee their shortcomings, even if the pancake thing wasn't a shortcoming after all.

A part of me feels icky, because I know my first choice had been the bad ending. It now feels like the bad ending was the true ending, and I've cheated my way out of it, so the good ending that I'm approaching does not feel earned. The feeling hangs over me for a while.

Even though KURO is not dead, his absence in day-to-day life is shocking. It leaves a really big impact and a sense of dread.

I like KURO's incognito civilian clothes until I realize he's got nothing on under the grey hoodie. Child. Put some layers on. It's winter. What the heck, are you trying to die of hypothermia or something.

I miss Akechi. Not because I actually miss him, I miss what he contributed to the group: Getting the others to get all the way off my back about leaving the heist to the last minute.

"No guys, we can't go to Shido's palace until I've made enough coffee and curry! Yes, I'm serious!!!"

The Phantom Thieves are turned into mice. This is one of the best things to happen in-game.

Akechi has a psychotic breakdown in the engine room. I repeat to myself that this really could have been avoided if Akechi had just gone to a therapist.

Imagine my shock when I defeat Shido, but the game doesn't end. Staggering.

Igor orders Caroline and Justine to kill me. I panic, wondering if this was because I failed to max out my bonds with the Phantom Thieves and I am approaching a bad ending after all. Then I wonder if maybe this could be avoided if Caroline and Justine had a higher Confidant bond with me and I regret that it's still at an abysmal level 1.

It turns out that having level 1 doesn't stop the girls from apparently liking me. They cannot of their own free will kill me. I'm glad that it doesn't matter that I only have a level 1 bond with them, but this still feels jarring. My mind still equates bonds to levels of friendship, meaning we're still barely acquaintances at best. Plot armour for Joker has kicked in hard.

I make the wrong assumption that maxing out bonds has no impact on the overall story.

I am surprised that Morgana is not - in fact - human. At some point I had convinced myself he was a teen persona user, stuck in a coma. Or that he is the persona of a persona user, sent loose to help his persona user wake up again. I don't know when I developed that theory, but it's so strong that the truth throws me.

Unlike the pancake twist, I accept this "twist" without issue.

Over the course of the game, I have been strengthening Arsène like crazy. He is my strongest persona and has inherited many powerful abilities from the persona sacrificed for him.

I head into the final battle with Arsène equipped. It's satisfying to kinda defeat the final boss with him.

There's something kinda depressing about the cutscenes in the final boss battle. Almost like my confidants are... absent...

I am overjoyed when Akechi is confirmed to have survived, as he turns himself over to the police. I assume this is the result of maxing out my bond with him.

I love Morgana's cat portrait. No, I am not biased because he's a cat.

I assume the game will end. Then KURO wakes up in the counselling room. The game is not over yet.

Third Semester

Because I happened to max out my bonds with Akechi, Kasumi and Maruki, I get the third semester story part.

I am unaware of how lucky I am, considering I didn't max out any other bonds by December (outside of the automated bonds of Igor, Sae and Morgana).

I make use of the extra costumes the game has given me for the first time. I pretend there's an in-story reason: The alteration in the universe has also affected how they appear as phantom thieves. KURO is now running around in his starlight clothes, Akechi in the dance costume and Kasumi I'm never quite able to settle on. Why those particular clothes? I am unable to come up with a theory, beyond reality alteration.

I am thrilled that the game addressed Akechi's unhinged nature by having Kasumi question it, and didn't just act like nothing had happened.

I am delighted that, in Morgana and Futaba's absence, Akechi is my navigator. I have not enjoyed myself that much in a long time. He's terrible and that's what makes him perfect.

To be honest, it's in the third semester where Akechi is elevated to absolute favourite character in Persona 5. Prior to that, he was liked, but not favoured.

I am horrified that Maruki is the new bad guy. I am even more horrified by what they did to his hair.

I am glad that "Please see a therapist" is not something I can tell Akechi during the first and second semester, because - after what has happened to Maruki - Akechi would never let me live this down.

To be fair, Akechi would also accuse me of being a kleptomaniac, considering how I've picked every palace clean so far.

Genuinely shocked by the Sumire reveal.

Sumire apologizes for trying to kill KURO. I wish KURO had told her it's fine, because Akechi, his currently only other friend, also tried to kill him.

I spend third semester trying to max out my bonds with the Phantom Thieves and any other Confidants I haven't maxed yet.

I befriend Haru, but I never get passed level one with her.

I manage to get to level 9 with Chihaya. We become a couple. I assume.

I succeed in maxing out Takemi and Mishima's confidant bonds, but no one else.

I max out the Baton Pass with all Phantom Thieves (including Akechi and Sumire). I do this just because it's cool to have. I'm not thinking strategically.

During this semester I go to play billiards for the first time.

Because I'm playing billiards for the first time, KURO asks "What's a cue stick?" Meanwhile, Akechi - with whom KURO has played billiards several times, who KURO has even beaten at billiards - is just standing in the background. I pretend Akechi is exasperated.

I had already suspected it when it's revealed that Akechi is a cognition-human of the new reality. I am not surprised, since despite my love for Akechi, it feels like some of his nuance is gone as of the third semester. Him being a cognition built from people's perception of him (with heaviest influences being directly from KURO and the Phantom Thieves) explains that.

"This isn't trivial!" Mmh. Some grade-A angst right there, I love it.

Of course I choose to defeat Maruki. I may love Akechi, but not so much that I'd let everyone on the planet be brainwashed into someone's perception of true happiness. There's a difference between living and being alive. And also, Akechi doesn't want to live in this reality either, so....

I really, really hate Maruki's metaverse look. Like, at first, you think, well, a bit weird, but tolerable. Then you get glimpses of what's underneath the poncho and oh... oh no...

I am glad to have maxed out the Baton Pass with everyone, because this is the only reason I am able to beat Maruki.

Much like with all bosses from Okumura onwards, I win by the skin of my teeth. Unlike other bosses though, I get max HP and SP after completing a phase. I appreciate this, because otherwise I would have lost (most Phantom Thieves are in the low 80s, high 70s range).

I can't believe I end up in a fistfight with Maruki. They're not even attempting to dodge each other. It's like I'm watching an 18th century boxing match.

The Ending

It's Valentine's day. Chihaya doesn't give me anything. I am disgusted.

I'm told to say goodbye to all my friends. I exit and can only bid farewell to Sae, Takemi and Mishima. I am distraught.

Even though the cutscene has all the Phantom Thieves bidding me goodbye, I don't buy it. I couldn't bid them farewell on my last day, so this doesn't feel earned or real.

I realize I couldn't bid farewell because I didn't max out their bonds. So maxing out the bonds does have an affect on the story, just not one I could have predicted. It leaves a sour taste in my mouth.

Maruki is a taxi driver. Dude. You have a university degree. You have a doctor title. Is this really all you could come up with?!

The game ends, I get the extra cutscene with Akechi and KURO seeing himself as Joker in the reflection. I interpret this as 1: Akechi is alive in some shape or form (with how and why being up in the air), and 2: the Metaverse cannot be destroyed, but the Phantom Thieves actions have lead to it being purged and cleaned. Hopefully, it will be healthier this time.

First Playthrough took me 110 hours.

NewGame+

I start the game so I can say goodbye to my friends. Yes. I am so mad that I couldn't say goodbye to Ryuji (and tbh, specifically Ryuji), I am replaying the entire game.

For real, if I'd been able to bid farewell to Ryuji in the first playthrough, I wouldn't have bothered with NewGame+.

And yes I've only mentioned Ryuji like a handful of times, but that's because I didn't really need to. Everyone loves him. It's a given.

I set the game to safety mode, because I just want the story.

This time I put a bit more effort into Joker's civilian name. I've grown attached to Kuro, even though I'm fairly certain that's not a name in Japan. In NewGame+ his name is Kuro Kichihei.

I enter my first battle in the Kamoshida's palace. I am frustrated that my stats are so low.

I realize I can equip end-game gear.

I'm crying, the shadows stand no chance.

I am too powerful. I fail to befriend shadows. I am forced to execute Arsène. This hurts.

I see the cutscene for executing Arsène for the first time. The Best Boy was with me to the very end in the first playthrough. It hurts to see him leave so soon in another timeline.

"It's no use! They're too powerful!!" Morgana cries. We have taken 2 HP damage.

I kinda wish I had set the game to easy mode, because I have a strong desire to know if this would be just as easy in normal mode.

I am determined to max out all bonds I form. While reading an online guide, I learn about checking Confidants Availability on the map. I feel like an idiot. I knew the blue rectangles meant a confidant was there, I didn't know they may offer up more information.

I discover there is a Confidant I have never even met in the First Playthrough. I go out of my way to befriend him. It's Yoshida.

Befriending him is... kinda stalker-y. Because I first find out where he frequents, get a job there to talk to him, and then I'm able to open up the confidant route. Like. I- I stalked him. So I could befriend him. No matter how you slice it, it's creepy.

I am in Madarame's boss battle. I am using personas at levels way higher than me, than the palace. I throw fire at all Madarames, the fire Madarames reflect it back at me. I am insta-killed. It's the only time I've died in the second playthrough.

I'm befriending and levelling up all previous Confidants, even though I know some of their skills carried over to NewGame+. I plan on befriending Chihaya again too, even though I'm going to pursue Makoto this time.

I do not open up the route with Chihaya.

I do open up Kawakami's route. I emotionally distance myself from the game to do so.

I discover I really love Kawakami and relate to her. It's unfortunate that the guy helping her is a minor and her student.

I spend a day hanging out with Ryuji. He mentions that his favourite characters are the rival characters. Um. Ryuji. Are you sure about that. Are you sure about that-

I open up Haru's route. She doesn't snap at me when I talk with her. I'm relieved.

As I finish Makoto's route, I suddenly wish I hadn't started a relationship with her. Because as she's pouring her heart out, this feels like she needed a friend, not a boyfriend. It's too late now though.

Meanwhile, I'm in Haru's early stages and I am displeased by the fact that she's still with her fiancé. My sympathy is not very high.

I finally understand why the Phantom Thieves kept asking me how I felt about the plan for Sae's palace. They weren't worried about the palace, or working with Akechi, they were worried about Akechi freaking murdering me.

Why is it an option to date Futaba if Sojiro is against it? Don't go against your dad's wishes, man.

Because I am weak, when Akechi sends me a text, asking me to hang out two days before he will murder me, I agree. Even though there are other Confidants whose bonds are ready to level up. Even though I've already maxed out my relationship with him. Even though it only unlocks a bless skill he will not have in the third semester. Akechi is still the favourite and does, in fact, get special treatment as a result.

As the Phantom Thieves re-explain how they suspected and tricked Akechi, I am able to better accept it and see how it fits into the story, partly because it's taken me 30 hours to get to this point, instead of 60.

I may accept the twist better, but the distaste remains and so I'm still not wholly happy with it. Maybe it's favouritism though. No. Who am I kidding. At this point, it's definitely favouritism. It's rarely strong enough to break the narrative though, so. Idk what you did Akechi, but you did it right.

I learn that if you have high bonds with non-PT Confidants prior to having to pretend to be dead, they will all reach out to you, to know that you're still alive. This made me very happy. And I did think it was strange in the first playthrough that no one outside the Phantom Thieves seemed all that bothered that I was dead.

There is substantial fear that I won't max out all my bonds before the end of the game.

I am particularly terrified that I will fail to max-out Haru and Shinya.

NewGame+ : Endgame

I enter Shido's palace. For the first time, I am no longer killing enemies with guns and attacks alone. Still wiping the floor with them though.

Haru seems to laugh at all my jokes. I wonder why Haru, Kuro and Akechi are not a more common trio in the fandom. You just know Kuro will tell a terrible joke, which Akechi will reasonably not find funny, but Haru finds hilarious, bursting into laughter, further exasperating him. I mean, tell me you don't see it. Tell me.

I max out the technical skill in billiards. I wish I could switch to normal, to see what the difference is (considering I never even touched it in the first playthrough).

Turns out I didn't need to worry about Haru. She maxed out within ten days.

At level 9, I'm thinking "Wow. Joker and Haru are such good friends :) " Then I reject her and she runs away. I suddenly feel bad that I'm already dating Makoto. So far, the only other confidant that got sad about rejection was Takemi. And she swallowed it like a champ.

I finally start exploring Shido's palace. I skip dialogue and cutscenes, so when Ann asks me if I remembered the plan, I answered "I forgot, actually...", making her exasperated. I have discovered being dumb is way more fun than being a know-it-all.

I rewatch Akechi's confrontation and once again feel second-hand embarrassment for the boy. This really could have been avoided if you went to therapy like a normal person.

I didn't notice how cool Akechi choosing to side with the Phantom Thieves was during first playthrough. I'm able to appreciate it this time.

Shido demands that Akechi be brought to him. Sorry Shido, unless Akechi somehow managed to drag himself out of the metaverse, you're not finding the body. Assuming he died. If he didn't die, well. Brace yourself, you're in for a shock either way.

Actually, that opens up a can of worms. What does happen to a being of the real world, if they were to die in the metaverse? They're a physical being, surely they can't just stay there? ? ?

I attempt to open up Chihaya's route, even though we're days away from the final boss battle. I forgot that there was a lot of running back and forth to unlock her confidant bond.

In other words, I do not achieve what I set out to do.

I've maxed out all my bonds, prior to the final boss fight. Except with Futuba and Kawakami. I accept my losses and wonder if I have time to max out three confidant bonds in the third semester.

I get a lot of new cutscenes in the boss battle, because I maxed out most of my bonds. Too bad I am not as invested in the story this time and so it's more of an annoyance than an "oh cool, so happy my friends back me :) " moment.

I'm in the boss battle. I defeat the god of control very quickly, it's laughably easy.

It's why I call BS when the plot demands the Phantom Thieves are exhausted and low energy, so that the crowd can overwhelmingly cheer them on.

My Phantom Thieves were still on max health and their SP was still fairly high. We didn't need popularity to mop the floor with the god of control.

From what I gather, Akechi is the absolute first sign of reality manipulation. Everything else follows after Akechi appears. That's weird. I wonder if there may have been other hints I missed, but I don't think so. Wait. Does Kasumi count?

It's the first time I get to spend christmas eve with a gf, instead of Sojiro and Futaba. It's surprisingly sweet and I stop regretting dating Makoto. Idk, I feel Joker and Makoto work well together.

"My sis told me last night [about Akechi]!" Yeah, right Makoto. I know you spent last night with Joker, you totally heard it from your sister and not him.

Tbh, with the way the story works, it seems that Joker and Makoto are in a secret relationship. Which I'm fine with, secret relationships are like. One of my favourite shipping dynamics.

NewGame+ : 3rd Semester

It seems I'm very heavily invested in the third semester, because I don't skip nearly as many cutscenes.

I wonder what it would be like to play P5 and go out of my way to be as hostile as possible to Akechi. Like, avoid him at all costs and always shoot him down. I doubt it makes a difference to the story.

Can you even unlock third semester if you don't max out Akechi?

I change their uniforms again, because I like pretending that third semester also affects how their metaverse selves appear. And the explanation for a more casual look? Maruki wants them to be ordinary teenagers, without the pressure of having to save the world. So their phantom thief clothes are partially affected by that (which does work, since Kuro's starlight clothes look like a more casual version of his phantom thief clothes, etc.)

Akechi: "I think we handled that rather well!" Akechi killed the shadow in one attack. Kasumi and I did nothing, just stood by and watched. Let me repeat that, we didn't do anything. There was no we, Akechi.

Akechi really does just straight-up peace out and let Joker fight Kasumi by himself. And then appears in the background after the battle, like he'd been helping in some shape, way or form.

It's still very funny to see Akechi go full-on villain in his showtime with Joker, while wearing a hat with HERO written on it in big, golden letters.

It stings to lose Akechi as navigator so soon, but because we're all way higher levels than we were in the first playthough (we're steadily approaching 90), the segment where he's navigator is much shorter.

Kinda weird how Akechi is open and even pushes for teamwork this time, when he strongly rejected it in December. :/ Almost like... This might not be the real Akechi...

I finish Kawakami's route. It's sweet. I'm really glad I swallowed my second-hand embarrassment, because this was worth it.

The NewGame+ was worth it, because lemme tell you, those third persona awakenings are hitting me right in the heart. Ryuji almost made me cry.

Yusuke's third awakening is so great, it's easily tied with Ryuji for best third awakening.

Really wish I could tell my friends that considering how I've forgiven Akechi, who not only betrayed me, but actually tried to murder me, I'm pretty sure I can get over them ignoring me for a few days.

I mean, the bar to upset Kuro is pretty freaking high. Akechi can potentially have failed to reach it, depending on how snarky and hostile the player wants to be towards him, but in both of my playthroughs he hasn't.

Hey, has anyone decided to keep Maruki's reality, purely to spite Akechi? Asking for a friend.

I now have a new fear: Failing to max out Futaba in time. I consider it a minor loss though.

I ask Haru to grow moonlight carrots. It's the first time I've asked her to grow anything. I promptly forget about them and never collect them.

Akechi and Ryuji argue while at Maruki's palace. And I have to decide whose side I want to take. As much as I favour Akechi, when we get down to it, I will always side with Ryuji. Also, Akechi getting flummoxed by my behaviour will never not be funny.

I finally befriend Chihaya. With 14 days left before the ultimate final boss battle. But I have nothing else to do in the evenings now, so I might as well try. As exepected, it doesn't get far.

There are nine days left and I have not yet maxed out Sumire or Futaba. The fear of failing is becoming increasingly real and intense.

It's kinda funny. In the First Playthrough, Joker had a supporting role in battle, reviving, healing and using support skills. He also specialized in Bless and Lightning attacks, and switched between personas frequently. In NewGame+ he's become a tank, specialized in Almighty and Curse attacks, and only uses, like, two personas really. It's such a stark contrast, almost like they're different people.

I'm ranking up Futaba and. Oh. Oh no. She has a crush.

What is it with men head-patting women as romantic gestures in Japanese media, that's always been so creepy to me.

Sumire confesses to Joker, which good on her, she's the only one to have done so. But I still wouldn't date her. Feels like a saviour crush, and I'm not into that jazz.

I fail to max out Futaba, but I'm ok with that. Sorry Futaba (and technically Chihaya).

Hey, if Maruki could bring back Okumura and Futaba's mum (and maybe Akechi), why couldn't he bring back the real Kasumi? Pretty sure that would relieve Sumire more than imposing a fake Kasumi personality onto Sumire. Or even switching out Kasumi for Sumire. Like, what's up with that.

Also, do dead people get their desires fulfilled? I imagine not. Which might be why Akechi is dead set on rejecting the reality. He's real enough to behave similar or identically to the real Akechi, and therefore aware enough to see that everyone has their "desires" fulfilled, except his. Unless his wish was to not go to prison, but he could have avoided that by just. Not taking Joker's place.

Or maybe it was that his crimes had never happened? Which kinda does work, seeing as he was released by the police and his crimes "swept under the rug". He doesn't act like someone that wishes he hadn't committed his crimes...

I just assume Akechi's deepest desire is not having a dead mum. Or a dad that actually loves him. So. You know. Sorry Akechi, even in the dream reality, you don't get a living mum or loving dad. Be grateful to be alive.

The fistfight at the end is just as stupid as it was the first time around. Don't get me wrong - I love that it's there. It's glorious. But still stupid.

Ok, the "Free Kuro from Juvie" is way more positive and uplifting when it isn't just Mishima alone in the street, trying to get Joker out of prison and Takemi giving one(1) interview. I am so glad I decided for NewGame+.

Ohya's freaking awesome. Love her.

Valentine's Day is too cute when you're spending it with someone.

It's February the 15th and I am being A M B U S H E D.

White Day is also very cute and very different when you've got someone to spend it with.

I do miss being able to give Sijiro something on White Day though. He deserves chocolate.

Kinda weird that the game keeps asking me who I want to romance, when. I've only romanced Makoto. Because I am loyal.

I can bid my friends farewell! Yay!!!! I'm finally happy.

Based on online advice, I go to the jazz club. And Kuro. Kuro. What do you mean you weren't Akechi's friend. You were the closest thing he had to a friend. That makes you his friend by virtue of being closer to him than anyone else.

I am so glad I chased up Kawakami. Her story was one of the best in-game. No, I'm not biased because I'm a teacher too. I'm not.

Move over Akechi, I have a new favourite and her name is Ohya. You go, you beautiful, independent, alcohol-loving lady!

When talking to confidants, I love that there's implication that the adventure won't actually stop for Kuro. At least, that's my interpretation, since it nicely builds into my head canon that Akechi is alive and that Mementos is purged, not erased (again, Akechi couldn't have died, or it'd be in the news...)

The game ends. I can start another NewGame+, this time with all stats already maxed out and over 6 million yen in my pocket. I don't, because I basically got the satisfying end what I wanted.

Idk, maybe in a year or something. Might replay it then, on higher difficulty.

Second playthrough took me 50 hours.

Man, that was wild.

#persona 5 #p5r #video games

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ddarker-dreams · 1 year

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Omg BUT. HAVE YOU SEEN HOW SOFT SCARA LOOKED WHEN NAHIDA SHOWED CARE FOR HIM? LIKE A FEW SECONDS BEFORE THE "tsk"??? I HAVE A SCREENSHOT OF IT ON MY PC BUT I'M TOO LAZY TO GET ON BUT HE LOOK SO SOFT AND GENUINELY TOUCHED AND IT MADE ME SO HAPPY FOR HIM

sorry for the caps lock but this man just makes me want to scream because he's so adorable no matter what he does and what atrocities he commits

his relationship with nahida is very special to me. i consider nahida a foil for scara (and vice versa), two examples of higher beings that suffered mistreatment at the hands of humanity yet ended up so different. i find his one line during their fight very telling...

out of all the insults he could've directed at nahida, he picked the one that would, imo, hurt him the most to hear. he inadvertently reveals a lot about himself with his words and actions. since nahida is the god of wisdom, it makes sense she'd absorb this knowledge and make good use of it. she is guiding him well. scara will probably never admit it, but he's gotta have a modicum of respect for her.

all this gave me an epiphany: if scara likes you, you can surprisingly get away with a lot.

he'll grumble, glower, and have no shortage of insults, but if you tease him, he won't seriously try to stop it. he lets it happen. if this is what he has to endure to maintain your attention, then so be it. he's persevered through worse. he'll just have to find some poor, unfortunate soul to release his pent-up frustration on...

#(i scratched out everlasting bc obviously that didn't turn out to be true)#(gotta keep my boy humble)#scaramouche brainrot #answered #scaranya

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noowayybroo · 6 months

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Give the dog a bone😏(Part 1) (SFW)

Characters: Dogman!Leon Kennedy, GN!Reader (Part 2 will be NSFW F! Reader)

hi ik we're all a bit horny and busy here! We on that grind (in more ways than one!) so I'm trying to keep the story short and sweet I LOVE YOU ALL

Warnings: FIRST PART IS SFW AND GN! READER AND IG SOME FLUFF OR A WEIRD STORY?? PART PART 2 WILL BE Smut and NSFW, Leon and reader are initially friends / colleagues. Set after RE4. Lazy writing because I'm too busy and hate writing no cap. dogman anatomy. Hunnigan exists but is irrelevant.

Irrelevant blabbering that you don't have to read: That title is NOT from The Squeeze's "Cool For Cats" Hi guys! Guess who's a university student now! And guess who's unbelievably even MORE busy than they were when they actually stopped writing fics. It's me! Thank you SO SO MUCH for the well wishes and kind words and general love and support I recieved, even when my blog was dead to the world. It means the world. This fic idea has been gnawing at my insides, as has the shame and guilt that has come with wanting to write it. Thanks for reading. Thanks for being here, you rock! you slap! I love you! And I'm still making stuff on Etsy if you're interested (shameful plug, sorry.)

It'd been entire weeks since Leon had embarked on his mission in Spain. Whilst this didn't sound like a lot, his trips usually took a few days, and were packed with back and forth correspondence (via Hunnigan, of course.) The last time you'd heard from possibly him was a few days ago, when late at night you'd received a message on your personal phone.

"Hey, It's me, I'm coming home." - Unknown Number - 22:34 pm.

Your heart sang. After apparent radio silence for days (unless they were keeping you in the dark) it had to be him. He had to be coming home. You were excited, glad and thrilled all at once. You hadn't lost your friend. Yet, at least.

Days passed. Worry seeped back in. It gnawed at the corner of your mind as you replied to the number for the fourth time, hoping SOMEONE would reply. You wanted to run the number by someone in your team, maybe they could find out where it was from, but then again, you wanted to respect Leon's privacy.

6 days had passed since that message. 6 whole days... Was it actually Leon who'd messaged you? On a particularly drizzly Wednesday afternoon, you sat at your desk fiddling in a vain attempt to rid yourself of your guilt and anxiety. Perhaps Leon needed your help. Maybe, you should stop being so selfish and show the higherups that message. Maybe it wasn't him... Maybe that message wasn't even for you. Maybe someone else needed someone else's help.

Frustrated, you sigh and throw your head back. The ceiling is plain, it's calm. A soft grey, just like the sky outside. And the mundane-ness of it all somehow distracts you. Leon's just a friend, nothing more. He sits next to you in your office, so what? It's not like you're going to get married. He goes on these missions all the time. He'll be fine.

You lower your gaze back to your desk. At least you would, if it weren't snagged by the sheepish figure standing in the doorway to your joint office. There he stood, Leon Kennedy, in the flesh. Bandaged heavily, but he stood there. He was dressed strangely. He wore a hoodie, choosing to keep the hood up, and baggy sweat-pants. His sleeves were far down, covering almost his entire arm, and his mouth was awkwardly screwed shut as if he were worried to open it.

His eyes dance around the room, shyly greeting the few people who'd stayed late to meet deadlines, which you just so happened to be one of (the worry had been killing your productivity.) Once they land on yours, he gives a soft smile and stumbles forward a little, letting go of the doorway which he clung to so tightly. He looked so... sick.

More than concerned, you stand to meet him, arms gently wrapping around him as he just about stops himself from falling into you by grabbing the desk. He's warm, so warm, shivering slightly, and he smells good, to your relief and surprise. You figure he must have returned from his mission a while ago. He had time to clean, apparently, but not to rest. Dark bags lined his bright eyes, cuts and bruises adorned his pale face.

You're in too much awe and shock to even feel the tears pricking your eyes, but you sigh into him in response, hugging him close, relieved. He returns the gesture, head falling into your shoulder as he lets out a deep sigh, far too content to take note of the many eyes on you now. You, however, are very aware, and promptly pull away, but not before registering the deep breath Leon takes in as his head rests by your neck.

Somewhat reddened, you offer him his chair, and he obediently sits with haste. His cool blue eyes never leave you as you sit before him, his throat bobbing in anticipation.

"I've missed you" he rasps, entirely undeterred by the few eyes that still linger, for some reason finding this interaction more thrilling than their stacks of paper. You certainly believe his words. Leon's eyes are wide, pupils blown as if he's trying to take in as much of you as possible. Perhaps he's just glad to be alive, you think. Whilst you're shy, you must admit that that hug was wonderful. And you'd maybe want it to last longer or go further if prying eyes weren't laser focused on you.

"I've missed you too" you breathe, still in disbelief. "when did you get back??" In response, Leon tells you (in quiet whisper) about his whereabouts. He doesn't go into much detail at all, but you learn that he's been to Spain, and actually got back from Spain 5 days ago. Since he got back, he was actually being held in a Government facility, where they ran tests on him and 'made sure it was safe for me to see you all.'

He swallows again.

Concern fills you: Why wouldn't it be safe? What happened to him out there that he doesn't want to tell you? Is he actually alright? And most importantly...

"Why are you dressed like that?" you giggle, trying to curve your overt frown. Your eyes drift over his toned form briefly as he sits before you, comfortably manspreading and leaning oh-so-slightly into your space. You weren't trying to check him out. He was your friend. However, despite the baggy clothing doing its best to deter your sights, you couldn't help but take in his plump thighs and toned arms. His large hands flex as he runs them through his fringe a few times, clearing it from his eyes. He lets out a deep exhale.

"It's... a long story." He huffs, seemingly not too eager to show and tell. You return his huff, slightly tempered this time, eyes drifting up to the hood he wore. He catches your gaze and narrows his eyes, a playful warning. Although you didn't dare go into detail, Leon could tell you'd worried about him and eagerly awaited his return. He knew he meant a lot to you, and you to him (though he wasn't sure if you were aware of that.) He knew you were worried about the tests, and he knew your sudden playful persona was in spite of every other emotion he'd guiltily put you through.

That being said, he wasn't able to match your mischievous guise as your hand slowly and gently raises up to touch his hood. A strong hand grabs your wrist, gentle yet firm. He doesn't hurt you at all, yet you find yourself unable to move. His expression grows serious.

"Y/N. The hood's gonna stay on, alright?" He asks softly, eyes easing a little as he takes in your startled expression. You falter, becoming a little upset. You just wanted to mess around. You couldn't do that either? He senses the change in mood. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry" he says quickly, shaking his head as he lets go of your arm "I know, I'm gonna have to take it off at some point. Look, there's something... Something's happening to me, alright??" He whispers softly into your ear "Can you get off work now?"

To your relief, you're not sure when, but everyone seems to have looked away by now. Shakily, you nod, and after packing up and signing out of your PC, you and Leon leave the building. It's a nice walk, despite the rain, fended off by an umbrella he'd borrowed from the station. Your talk is pleasant, beating around the topic of his strange dress until a strong arm reaches in front of you, gently pushing ajar the door to your local Coffee Place. It's a nice, simple Cafe that you and Leon frequented on your ways home, especially on drizzly days like this.

Shaking off his umbrella, Leon follows you inside to the booth you usually sit at together. Many hours were spent here chit-chatting, sometimes alone and sometimes with other co-workers and friends. You'd discuss playful topics, the workload, things about the boss you didn't want anyone to hear. It was also here that Leon would gossip to you and only you about his 'confidential' missions, purely because you'd earned that trust.

It was here that he was about to tell you his new secret.

You both enjoyed this place because it was often empty. It's not that the service was poor, quite the opposite. The empty, quiet air allowed orders to swiftly be taken and fulfilled. The servers were polite, and you always got to sit at your special booth. You hid away from the outside world together drinking anything from coffee to bubble tea, and trusting the staff to give you both that ...platonic space.

Once your drinks were ordered, you and Leon got to talking.

"Listen, Y/N, I can tell you now." His eyes are wide, genuine, dancing between your own and your hands, as if he'd like to take them in his own. However, he refrains. Whatever's on his mind, it must be special. Too special for your ears, then.

"Leon... It's alright, you don't have to, please-"

"No, I want to tell you, it's alright. Everyone's going to find out anyway" he's serious, his leg gently bouncing under the table in anticipation "You can tell people, they'll know, it's fine, I just don't want to scare you."

"Scare me??" You couldn't believe your ears. If this was something public, then surely it couldn't be so bad. Why was he scared to tell you... Unless... was it that thing Hunnigan let slip? The virus... thing? You lean in, whispering as quietly as you can, almost only mouthing it to him "Leon... that... parasite.... Did it get you?"

His face drops. His mouth hangs open and he stares in disbelief for a while. You were right. Your face falls too. Was he dying?

"Leon- Are you Okay, I-" You begin to stammer, beyond horrified. You desperately try to form the words. What do you ask him? What do you say?

Once he comes to, he quickly shakes his head, gently taking your hands in his now, firmly, comforting you. "Wait. Wait please listen, yes Y/N, yes it did get me. But I'm okay. I'm fine... It's gone."

What? It was gone?? Well now you're back at stage one.... What was the issue?

"I did get infected by the parasite, but there was a scientist there, and he saved me... But there were these, look, don't be scared please, they tested me, I'm not gonna hurt you..." he eyes you, and when you don't seem to show any protest, he continues under his breath, voice thick and shaky.

"There were these dogs... Infected dogs... and one of them bit me."

Leon leans back and releases your hands just as the waitress comes by to hand you both your order. She smiles and leaves, and hesitantly, Leon's hands find his way up to his hood. Removing it reveals two large, houndish ears that flip upwards as his hood relieves them. They twitch, angling themselves towards you. Furry, soft and golden, they're... adorable. They look so... real.

Once again, you're left speechless. What can you say? Leon's now... a werewolf? A dog??

You knew this change was brought on by some kind of parasite, a virus that controlled the body and mind. You knew it was able to give its victims an inhumane strength, and somewhat invincibility... You knew whatever did this to Leon made him dangerous.

And yet, like a fool, you trusted him, the victim.

That's all Leon was now, a host for this virus, probably, and for some reason, you took his human side not wanting to hurt you as justification for trusting his infected self completely.

Leon continued to explain some of his symptoms. He ranted and whimpered about how he's losing his mind, how he can smell, hear and taste so much better than ever. He described how you can't see it but how his tongue has even changed. How his ears are growing each day, how his teeth are getting sharper. He tells you about how he's growing a tail, how his nails grow faster...

But you? You're lost to the world in your own sense of deep thought. You trusted Leon, you'd already made peace with it completely. You weren't scared of him at all, although you were a little afraid THAT you weren't scared of him. You knew you certainly should have been. Now, all you were trying to figure out was what exactly was happening to Leon. Spacing out completely, his words simply merged with your own thoughts, and you began to wonder what other dog features he'd have. You wondered if he was more hairy, if he'd grow claws. You wondered if his personality had changed. You remembered the way he sniffed you when you met...

But to Leon you looked terrified, and it made him panic. Waving his hand in front of your face and taking both of your hands in one of his large ones when that didn't work. Leon has to further stand up and lean over you, face close to yours to get you to snap out of it and focus back onto him again. Seeing you smile back at him shyly, apologising for spacing out has him giving the most over-the-top, faint and relieved smile you've seen. He looks exhausted, as if that little lack of communication aged him a hundred years.

Once your mind is collected, you sigh, addressing him "Leon, I trust you, I believe you, I'm not scared. I'm just... curious, you know?" you chuckle awkwardly, hoping you hadn't offended him, but as you speak to him, he softens, melting at your comforting words. His ears begin to droop and a braindead smile begins to form at his lips as he eyes you dreamily, relieved.

"...Curious?" he whispers, and it doesn't go past you how he cocks his head to the side like a puppy hearing a new noise. His ears prick up a little, his mouth slightly ajar "What's up? What do you want to know?" he mutters eagerly. It's as if he'd never anticipated you being so calm about the situation, and now he was entirely unprepared.

"Well..." You laugh, "Do you feel any... different?" you muse, glancing from his face, entirely enthralled by you, up to his ears which twitch and flap every time your mouth opens.

"V-very..." he mumbles shyly, staring down at the table "L-like I said I can smell really well... and I'm always warm... My hearing is better... T-there's more but like... well... it's... it's personal." he chokes out.

Oh, so it was like that, was it? Interesting... You could tell by his burning red cheeks and avoiding eyes that he wasn't too comfortable, and so, again, you decided to try and reassure him. You quite liked how easy it was to read Leon now. Taking his hands in your suddenly, you delighted in how his ears perked before drooping again as you gently massaged his hands with your thumbs. His eyes almost closed as he swooned before you, leaning back slightly as if about to collapse.

"It's alright, Leon, I trust you, and I believe you. I know you're in there" you giggle, taking a chance at reaching up and gently patting his head softly. To your surprise, Leon melts further before you, leaning forward into your touch as his eyes close and he props himself up with his forearms, still nestling his large hands in your left one subconsciously. He sighs deeply through his nose as he listens to your words "If anyone's got a problem with you at work, they can go through me, alright?"

Leon's eyes flutter open as you withdraw your hand. Smiling at you warmly, he seems thrilled to simply gaze at you. "Thank you, Y/N. It means a lot to me" he whispers, leaving you grateful that he didn't cockily challenge your ability to do as you'd promised. It seemed that whatever had overtaken him had simply decimated his ability to argue with or criticise you.

The rest of the night was spent with the two of you giggling together, discussing what you'd been doing in his absence. Leon told you about the president's daughter. He described the different creatures he fought and survived. He told you how much he'd missed your friendship and how gutted he had been to lose contact with Hunnigan. And he divulged to you how glad he was to be back with you all, his 'pack'.

Completing your walk home, which Leon insisted on accompanying you for (you imagined he was still fearing detachment), he ducked into your home to show you his tail. Awkwardly untucking it from his sweats - soft, fluffy and wagging with a mind of its own. You noted how it stayed firmly between his legs once he first revealed it, matching his flattened ears upon first showing you, but once your face lit up and you reached out to touch it, it began to wag uncontrollably. Like his ears, his tail was golden, sandy and beautiful.

Leon could tell you enjoyed what you could see, or at least that you weren't terrified, and that was enough for him.

Well, you never thought your colleague would magically become... a dog... However, you weren't necessarily against the change, you ponder as you shut the door after him after reminding him to use his umbrella to keep himself dry on the walk home. The question was, did you still crush on him, just as you'd done when he left for Spain?

Yes.

Yes you did.

Over the next few weeks, you bonded more and more with Leon over his new predicament. You'd kept his trust. In fact, he began to confide more in you. He pursued you more often. He walked you home more and told you more about his new life.

...You were sometimes reminded that he could probably smell you, which was uncomfortable, but he was kind enough to stay silent on the matter, and that felt good.

Unexpected by Leon, dog-anatomy or not, he was still regarded as a hero in the office. People treated him well, aside from some comments by jealous newbies, who were often laughed out of the room by Leon's work-mates. Especially you. You were always there for him as he re-adjusted to office life, and as he learned about his new self. That deeper connection is probably what made him hesitate to leave you one evening outside your door.

You could tell what he was thinking.

You didn't want to say goodbye either.

And so, you invited him inside.

OK I HAVE TO APOLOGISE FOR THE BAD WRITING IT'S 3AM I CAN'T LIE MY BRAIN ISNT WORKING SORRY. Thanks for reading this, I'll try and write the smut as quickly as possible. Please bare with :sob: thanks for reading this ily

#resident evil #re leon #leon kennedy #resident evil x reader #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy fanfic #leon s kennedy #re4 leon #resident evil leon #dogman leon #puppy leon kennedy #fanfiction #fanfic #resident evil 2 #re 4 remake #re 4 leon

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