#i know this is old news now but this was in my drafts and i feel like i should probably still post it given that JSO are in the news again

[invisibleicewands]

“If It’s Not Grueling, It’s Not Worth It”: John Cale, in Conversation With Michael Sheen

Michael Sheen heard John Cale’s singular voice for the first time as a teenager in his bedroom in Port Talbot, Wales. “Someone cool must have given it to me,” he says of listening to White Light, White Heat for the first time. “I knew nothing about The Velvet Underground, I knew nothing about anything… Then I hear this voice on the song, ‘The Gift,’ and I’m like, ‘Hang on, that’s a Welsh voice.’” On his eighteenth studio album, POPtical Illusion, Cale, now 82 years old, is still possessed of that distinct, boundless instrument. Its emotional tenor, as Cale points out, is “snide,” and throughout the record, there’s an air of humor but also repressed rage boiling just beneath its poppy surface. The legendary musician wrote most of the album during the first Covid lockdown, averaging three songs a day. “I was really angry,” he told Sheen on a call earlier this month. “But I didn’t want the anger to really predominate.” To celebrate the release of Cale’s new album, the two Welshman delved into their respective creative processes, Cale’s relationships with Lou Reed and David Bowie, and the transformative power of public libraries.

MICHAEL SHEEN: How are you?

JOHN CALE: I’m good. I’m just delivering an album.

SHEEN: I’ve been thoroughly enjoying listening to it.

CALE: Oh, really?

SHEEN: Yes, they sent me a link.

CALE: That’s good.

SHEEN: It’s absolutely beautiful, John.

CALE: Good. Well, are you in Port Talbot?

SHEEN: I was in Port Talbot until the weekend. I’m in London for a little bit now. I’ve just finished doing a play. I’ve been playing Nye Bevan.

CALE: Oh, that’s great.

SHEEN: For the last three or four months, we’ve been at the National Theater here in London. Then we did a couple of weeks in Cardiff at the Millennium Center last weekend.

CALE: Who wrote the play?

SHEEN: Tim Price, the Welsh writer. It’s a new play directed by Rufus Norris.

CALE: Very good. Glad to hear you moving on. I’m trying to remember a photograph of him when I was growing up in Garnant and he was a political heavyweight.

SHEEN: Oh, yeah. He’d started off working down the mines. He was a draft door boy.

CALE: That’s right. 

SHEEN: Both of you had fathers who were miners.

CALE: Yes. My dad was a fitter. You know what a fitter is?

SHEEN: No.

CALE: A fitter is a guy who goes in and puts the wrenches and the bolts and everything together. He doesn’t go down shoveling coal or any of that. He just puts gear together.

SHEEN: Well, it’s funny, because listening to the album, I was reminded of a scene in Nye, where you see Bevan as a young boy going into the Tredegar Library. He had a terrible stutter, a stammer. The library gave him the opportunity to increase his vocabulary so he could use different words. Literally, libraries gave him power.

CALE: Listen, the library in Garnant gave me power. It was a little place stuffed with books, but they have these cards where, if you wanted a book that they didn’t have, you could fill out the form and they’d run off and get it. And not only that, they filled out forms for music. The music was attended to by the Marlborough-MA Public Library. If I put down Schoenberg, they would find the book.

SHEEN: Wow, that’s amazing.

CALE: I learned so much from that.

SHEEN: One of the most moving scenes in the play is this scene in the library because, of course, it gives Bevan his freedom. He’s able to talk. And on your new album, a line that really jumped out at me was on “Company Commander,” when you say “right-wingers burning their libraries down.” You think, “Here are the things that gave the working class in Wales power and now we’ve got people, as you describe, burning the libraries down.”

CALE: As a social activist, I’ve watched you approach that subject not just carefully, but penetratingly

SHEEN: Well, that line really jumped out at me. And I think the album is beautiful, disquieting, but I also found it incredibly moving at times.

CALE: Really?

SHEEN: Well, just seeing a song called “Davies in Wales,” immediately my ears pricked up, especially knowing that your name is John Davies Cale. I’ve listened to that a few times today. What was going on there?

CALE: It’s a laugh. You’ve got to have some of that in your life otherwise you’d die of boredom. “Shark-Shark” was one that really doesn’t have any sense to it at all. You just do it as a goof.

SHEEN: Am I right in saying that the very last word on the album is coal?

CALE: Code.

SHEEN: Code, right. See, my Welsh ears heard coal because I couldn’t help but be tempted into thinking of you floating down a river like a magical piece of coal, John. Is it too late to change it to coal?

CALE: For you? No.

SHEEN: But am I right as well in saying that in the space of a year you wrote over 80 songs and that this album has come out of that?

CALE: Yeah. The lockdown took over about a year-and-a-half ago and I just shut the door and took precautions and got on with some work. When I came out of that, there was an album already. At the end of the day, I had 80 songs. This is about finding poetry in the strangest places.

SHEEN: Did the lockdown color the nature of the songs in terms of their tone?

CALE: Yeah, I had a lot of energy. I was really angry. I didn’t want the anger to really predominate. It was really about trying to find out what else there was around you that you considered as part of your persona. If you’re writing lyrics, you start with a lyric and then you go to the music. Or you start with the music, then go to the lyrics. You really don’t want to obey too many of the laws of poetry and rhyme too much. You don’t mind tripping over your own shoelaces. Making mistakes is really important sometimes, and I’m still growing.

SHEEN: Have you carried on writing at that kind of pace since then?

CALE: Yeah.

SHEEN: Wow. That’s an extraordinary creative explosion. Is that just to do with the lockdown conditions or is it also where you were at in your life?

CALE: I think so, yeah. I’ve had enough of certain things. But the whole process welcomed me like, “Hey, why don’t you do this?” You find the rest of your ideas by rifling around all the ideas you’ve had to the beginning of that lockdown and eventually, you don’t have a lockdown.

SHEEN: Well, it clearly wasn’t a kind of creative or imaginative lockdown. Did you know they were always going to be for a solo album?

CALE: No, the collaborations happened on the first of the albums. The rest of it was just me playing with my instruments. I just had a pile of instruments in my studio and off I went.

SHEEN: But this album feels so crafted and so textured. It’s interesting you said that you were very angry because maybe that’s one of the “poptical illusions” of the album, because it doesn’t immediately feel like an angry album. It feels incredibly lush. Even at its most lush, it’s never comfortable. There’s always disquiet there. My hearing is getting worse, and I’ve never been able to hear lyrics very well, so I have to listen over and over to get to the lyrics. As I listened to the songs more and more, you do start to hear the anger. It’s so rich and lush and textured and yet there is a darkness in there as there always is in your work, John.

CALE: Yeah, I appreciate that. “Snide” is an appropriate word.

SHEEN: It’s a good word.

CALE: It’s handy.

SHEEN: We were at a very particular time when we were in those lockdowns. You start to think about the western world over the last 10 years or so, and not only were we in that bizarre situation of being locked up in our homes, but we were also at a time in the world where things were and still are obviously unhinged in all kinds of ways. Is that what was feeding that sense of anger that you were talking about?

CALE: Well, people don’t want to be lectured. You don’t want to say anything because then you’ve got the responsibility of answering the questions. You want to see if you can get away with as much humor as you possibly can.

SHEEN: That’s where snide comes in.

CALE: It’s a good to have a sense of humor with some snide.

SHEEN: Well, it’s funny you talk about your sense of humor. The very first time I heard your voice, I was a young teenager in my bedroom in Port Talbot. I had my first record player. My musical tastes were fairly conservative when I was younger. But somehow I’d got hold of White Light, White Heat. An older cousin must have given it to me or something. Someone cool must have given it to me. I put it on and I’m listening to this album and it seemed like the epitome of the exotic for me. It’s American, it’s the coolest thing ever. I knew nothing about Velvet Underground. I knew nothing about anything, really. Then I hear this voice on the song “The Gift”, and I’m like, “Hang on, that’s a Welsh voice!” I couldn’t believe it. That’s when I discovered you and who you were and where you’d come from and all that kind of stuff. But that dark humor, that was my first introduction to you and dark humor itself.

CALE: When we did that album, people were wondering, “What is this about? What are these guys doing?” I thought to myself, “I have to wait until the end of the album to have a clear idea of where I stood in the European world and where I did not stand in the European world.” Most of the songs on a lot of those albums were reflections of what I was missing about Europe. Those were a lot of loose songs, granted, but a lot of the songs I came up with at the end of that period, like “Paris 1919,” for instance, were written from California.

SHEEN: When you were in New York in the ’60s, did you feel like a European in America?

CALE: I did, but I didn’t have time for it. It’s a weird position to be in. You’re sitting in New York and you’re hanging out with Andy [Warhol] and the factory and all those other characters, all just amazingly brilliant in their own way and full of ideas and kind and gentle. It was a nonstop fountain of inspiration. What am I trying to say? It was an artistic revolution in New York. A lot of it probably came from the sexual revolution that was going on. There was so much of that going on. I was really interested in a very specific kind of music that happened to have been started in 1963 in Stockhausen. But all of a sudden, I was with LaMonte Young in California, where he was a jazz saxophone player. He was moving to New York and he was interested in totally different things about drones. He took that influence with him across the water. Then Viola Monte Young starts introducing droned violas to the Velvet Underground and we have modern music, essentially.

SHEEN: Part of your extraordinary career has been about connecting and working with younger artists coming up, whether it’s The Stooges or The Modern Lovers, right up to Kelly Lee Owens and Nirvana. How do you stay plugged into that? How do you watch out for what’s going on and see who you want to work with?

CALE: It’s pretty easy. It’s all over. With the new technology, you can’t avoid it.

SHEEN: But if you’re writing songs, how have you got time to listen to other people’s music as well?

CALE: That’s one of the problems. It’s just one of those things that you run into in life. You can’t do it all the time. You can’t do it for very long. But it’s just knowing what’s going on, where and when. But the other stuff is, I can just keep going. I’m not fragile yet.

SHEEN: No, you don’t seem fragile in any way, John. Although I have to say, in some of the lyrics and some of the music on this album, there’s a vulnerability there.

CALE: An important characteristic of your creativity is how fragile you are in the process. You reveal more of yourself in that way. I think revealing more of yourself has no limit. I think it’s something you’ve got to recognize in the process.

SHEEN: I was talking about this recently, but when I was a younger actor, I thought good acting was essentially about showing off. I thought it was about working out how to be really entertaining and clever and funny and smart. Then, as I got older, I realized that the more uncomfortable I was when I was acting, that’s actually where the good stuff is.

CALE: Yes, absolutely.

SHEEN: That’s where the magical pieces of coal are.

CALE: Don’t tell anybody.

SHEEN: So a lot of people came out of lockdown having watched a lot of box sets on TV. You came out of it with multiple albums and god knows how many songs. I don’t know about this album, but certainly on the last album, you have a song like “Night Crawling” where you’re going back over stuff with David Bowie. Was there a lot of that happening in lockdown as well? I don’t mean reminiscing in a nostalgic or sentimental way, but a sense of drawing from the past?

CALE: Only when I wrote the song. It was something that happened. I was a little embarrassed about having to have a character in my songs that you can really appreciate for other reasons. I was trying to be kind and generous about it.

SHEEN: You’re bound to be aware. If you are writing a song about something that’s happened to you, and it involves someone that everybody knows, there is an awareness of the weight of that, isn’t there?

CALE: Yeah. You try to be generous with everybody.

SHEEN: If it involves going back to working with Lou Reed and everyone else, do you feel a need to make it slightly more cryptic? 

CALE: That happened already. That’s part of history. I dealt with it and I’m satisfied with it. I’m glad that we wrote Lou’s Drella together. When we finished the whole piece, I said, “Lou, we’ve written all these songs and they’re all about all these characters that we know and we love and lived through. But you didn’t write a single verse about the Velvet Underground.” He went away and wrote one and came back.

SHEEN: Well, I suppose it’s difficult. If you’ve lived a life like you have lived and you’ve been around the people, it’s going to be difficult to write any song without somehow involving people that everyone knows in some way or another. Do you remember when I came to New York and when there was that exhibition about the Velvet Underground?

CALE: Yes, that’s right.

SHEEN: You were surrounded by people the whole time, so I didn’t want to bother you too much. But before I left, I wanted to come up and say hello. As I was with you, Laurie Anderson came up to us and I totally embarrassed myself by suddenly going, “Oh, ‘Superman’ was such an amazing song for me.”

CALE: She deserves it.

SHEEN: She quite rightfully paid me no heed and walked off.

CALE: Really? I’m surprised.

SHEEN: I felt so embarrassed.

CALE: No, she’s a kind soul. I’m glad you did it.

SHEEN: More and more now, actually, I feel like I want to tell people when they’ve had an amazing effect on my life. There’s so much shit in the world. There’s so much stuff that makes you feel shitty. And that’s another reason why I find listening to your new album moving, because you are one of those people for me. Are you going to be touring this album?

CALE: Yeah. It’s starting in January. I’m doing a couple of gigs in Mexico. It’ll be interesting now that they’ve got a new Prime Minister.

SHEEN: Indeed. Touring and playing live, is that something that has become more important to you, or maybe less?

CALE: Oh, it’s always been important. It’s been like a life-giving source. You get an audience out there. There’s nothing better than that.

SHEEN: Is it grueling?

CALE: If it’s not grueling, it’s not worth it.

[thelawsofdaylight]

I'm sorry if this isn't approriate, but I don't really understand why you find Les Mis a good target for a climate protest? I get that the musical has themes that align with the protesters but like... what was the good outcome? Are there really People in that audience that don't know climate change is happening? How Will this change their mind? What action is meant to be brought on by trowing soup at paintings or disrupting a performance? Does that actually help the cause of combatting climate change at all? Does it help make people more aware, does it have an effect on the mechanisms of polluters? Isn't there anything more focused that these resources (both money and the incredible bravery and drive of the People themselves) could be better focused on. These protest feels so different from like, people chaining themselves to a private jet or the schoolchildren going up to parliaments by the thousand to demand policy chances to better their future. All of the JSO actions feels so performative, I just don't see how they are actually doing anything of even the mechanism by which they are meant to accomplish anything? Which doesn't mean that the people involved aren't great people or that the reaction of the Les Mis crowd wasn't fucked up. Just... what was even the goal?

Hey! I know it's been a while since I made that post supporting the JSO protestors but I've gotten a few asks like this in the time since (and am still getting them) so I'm responding to this as the most good-faith one in my inbox and hopefully it answers others that have been asked to me in the past couple weeks as well. Disclaimer: If I'm responding to things outside the remit of this ask, it's likely that it's because someone else sent an ask about it and I've been juggling them all in my head as I've been thinking on a response.

I think in order to answer the first part of the ask we have to tackle the second. 'What has this action achieved' only works as a comprehensive criticism if we look at it in isolation to all of JSO's other actions. What I mean by this is: JSO launched by blocking oil refineries for days on end. In the two years they've been active they've done similar actions, including but not limited to disrupting fuel distribution centres, petrol stations, interrupting fossil fuel conferences, and, most recently, trying to stop the relocation of asylum seekers to prison barges. Their actions go far beyond blocking roads and disruption of public events. I think this is important to establish as I don't know how much of a working knowledge anyone not in the UK Climate movement actually has about JSO and I think it's good we're all on the same page.

But if they do all that (effective, important) direct action, then why target Les Mis? What does a West End show have to do with fossil fuel companies and climate change? And in response to these questions I'll ask one of my own: were you aware of the fact that JSO tried to stop migrants from being deported until I mentioned it just now? A lot of these actions, the ones that actually target infrastructure and confront those directly responsible, get little to no media coverage. When news of the Les Mis action first broke out, I saw so many people on Twitter with the same reactionary takes: why target Les Mis when the Conservative Party Conference literally happened the same weekend? And that's a fair and valid point- if it wasn't for the fact that JSO were at the conference. I know this because I was there too. They had a huge bloc in the march and went on to do other actions in the city after the march had ended. The whole thing, the entire 10,000+ strong protest, got maybe 30 seconds coverage on the local news and not even a mention of JSO's presence (or of climate change in general for that matter.) JSO's previous actions directed at fossil fuel companied themselves get very little, if any, coverage compared to their big flashy sports/awards show/performance interruptions.

So yeah, some of JSOs actions are 'performative'. But I don't think it's unreasonable to suggest that even performative actions have their place within the wider struggle. I understand not liking public disruption as a tactic and I understand the issues with it, but I also think it's worth reflecting on why groups like JSO use it.

Editing my draft here to report that earlier today they smashed the frame of a painting that was previously vandalised by the Suffragette movement in 1914. That's a performative action, sure, but you have to admit it makes a point. Just like the tageting of Les Mis, a play about an unjust society and the people striving to change it, makes a point about hypocrisy. It gets the media coverage. We can debate all day about the usefulness of that coverage and if chasing media headlines should be our goal in the first place... but at the end of the day, it's been proven that JSOs membership grows every time they do something like this. It gets more people to join, which means next time it comes round to blocking key infrastructure, they'll be in a stronger position to succeed.

This isn't to say don't criticise them at all! I actually think criticisms like this one are a key part of organising and, done with care, can only make our movements stronger. I have my own issues with JSO- namely, the carelessness with which arrest is actively encouraged/promoted as the only valid form of resistance- but that's a whole other conversation and one that doesn't undermine my support and solidarity for the activists who are doing those actions (and sacrificing a whole lot in the process.) I think mass direct action movements are rarely ever perfect but I also think we need to show solidarity first and foremost when people are trying to do the right thing, especially if how they're doing it is in conjunction with or as a response to other tactics.

[thedeadthree]

— OCS AS ART MOTIFS.

TAGGED BY @chuckhansen, @adelaidedrubman, @minaharkers, @detectivelokis and @nightbloodraelle to take this cutest uquiz for the dears! ty so much! ♡

TAGGING: @risingsh0t, @griffin-wood, @jendoe, @shadowglens, @leviiackrman, @morvaris, @phillipsgraves, @kingsroad, @nokstella, @gwynbleidd, @girlbosselrond, @unholymilf, @feystepped, @aartyom, @queennymeria, @denerims, @bld-hnd, @calenhads, @nuclearstorms, @confidentandgood, @florbelles, @blissfulalchemist, @shellibisshe, @loriane-elmuerto and you!

DAPPLED SUNLIGHT

you see all the beautiful things in life. you're always looking to learn and be better, especially from the world around you. thank you for believing so strongly in goodness. art reference: woodland glade by david poulter

A LONELY PERSON

though you may be quiet, your heart is full of longing. you spend much of your time with your own mind, and that may very well be a beautiful thing. art reference: automat by edward hopper

BURNING HOUSES

your heart flies wild and free. you have the mind of an artist, spilling with ideas and dreams. art reference: burning house by lois dodd

THE MOON

you're a lover, a dreamer. you gaze wistfully at the sky, seeing the infinite gorgeousness of the natural world and wishing it could translate to your real life. art reference: the starry night by vincent van gogh (because, of course, what other moon could i possibly include?)

HANDS

is your love language touch? i suppose it might not be, but i also suppose you might just like being held. you might see the art in human bodies. art reference: loneliness of night by kaye donachie

BLOOD IN RELIGIOUS DEPICTIONS

you think in violence, but not necessarily antagonism or hatred. it is more just in the physicality, the vulnerability of it all. art reference: prometheus bound by peter paul rubens

[nevada-wrytes]

Chapter 5 - A Black Heart Laced with Neon Green Ribbons

Content Warnings: mentions of violence, cemeteries, and death

Link to the previous chapter and link to the next chapter

Part Two: Curses

There was only so long one could ignore a growing pile of “jobs” and “responsibilities” and “duties” before someone came in and pushed the stack over.

Raven was met with such a situation as he powered on the obsidian tablet that most citizens of the Underneath used to communicate (because cell phones, as they say, were for losers). Immediately, message upon message began popping up, most from annoyed clients who demanded a discount for late services. He ignored them all, even some warbled garbage sent by an unknown sender, but stopped when he got to one name in bold.

Boss (derogatory): Come see me.

A time and place were not specified, yet Raven knew exactly what it meant. He had no desire to go back to the Underworld, much less the City of the Dead, and he definitely did not want to meet with him.

With an weary sigh, Raven took a sip of his drink, finding comfort in the puffs of steam that curled out of the teacup.

Usually, cafés were uncomfortable places filled with too much noise and movement, but this one was nice. It was owned by an old friend, although she wouldn’t like to be called that, who took pride in preserving the ancient space as it had been a hundred years ago in the midst of the Roaring Twenties.

Raven liked the effect that the dark furniture and dim lighting cast, it felt both mysterious, edgy, and easy to disappear in. Among the swamping leather sofas and bursting bookshelves, he was just an ordinary guy enjoying a cup of tea. Maybe he’d pick up a book or put on a record. Life was simple, it didn't matter that Dahlia was dead. It didn’t matter that she was the fourth girl (along with two other guys) who’d met an untimely demise all because they decided to fall in love with the wrong person. Him.

Maybe it is a curse. Maybe he accidentally pissed off some deity and is unknowingly passing the misfortune on to some poor mortals. The fortune teller from before did seem especially ire with him...

Whatever. Now was not the time to genuflect. The glowing red text on the obsidian tablet in his lap provided an excellent distraction.

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” he muttered to the air as he stood up and dusted himself off. He stuck a wad of cash under his used saucer and turned to leave.

And was met with a very dirty, very prickly, broom to the face.

"Heyyyyyyyyy Margie," he casually said, emphasizing the nine Y’s at the end of ‘hey’ to prove his casualness.

The woman behind the broom, an older lady that looked like she was straight out of a boxing match, stared him down. She was taller than him, larger than him, and had biceps that looked like they bench pressed willowy teenage boys just like him.

If it wasn’t for the affectionate tilt of her mouth and the crow’s feet around her eyes she would have given even him a scare.

“Get the hell out of my café you rat." Although there was no real anger behind her words, Raven put his hands up, and backed away slowly.

“I mean no harm, Margi— I’m just stopping by— love what you’ve done with the place by the way.”

“Hmp.” Margi folded her huge biceps over her chest. “Am I s’posed to assume all of that’s true?”

“Ughhhhhh..”

Raven needed a way out of this conversation that contained the least amount of fists to his face. Luckily, Margi saved him the trouble of formulating some brain dead reply.

“What do you want.” A statement, not a question. “You know I don’t serve any criminals no more.”

Raven tried a laugh fit for a guilty man. “Criminal? Who— me? Pfftt..”

Margi gave him a Look.

“WELL ANYWAYS,” he began, as if being louder would erase the awkwardness of the subject, “ignore the details— do you, by any chance, still exchange demonic currency?”

៴

Like every other heartbroken teen, Raven had spent the past few days wallowing into tubs of lemon sorbet and Tinkerbell reruns. He didn’t actually cry, but just the thought of it was enough to make even the most waterproof mascara run.

However, just like any coming of age film, there has to be a point where enough is enough, where maybe the best friend comes in to pull the protagonist out of their moping by the hair and gets them to snap out of it. Unfortunately, Raven has to be his own best friend in this case, and pulling yourself together was much more difficult alone.

Regardless of if he enjoyed it or not, there was work that needed to be done, so he slapped on some kick-ass eyeliner and put on some kick-ass boots to go thlunking through the cemetery— because that was a normal thing to do.

Raven had a complicated relationship with cemeteries. He appreciated the lengths people would go to honor their loved ones, maintaining graves even generations later when there was no one left alive to remember the kind of person the body in the ground used to be, but grave sites also brought about a sort of stillness within him that he absolutely hated.

Even the air was calm, despite it being night and definitely much creepier when the corroded angel statues looked at you with weeping eyes. He felt like he could breathe again, for the first time since— Mother knows how long.

And if he could stay and recharge for hours, Raven felt, with no doubt, he would have enough will to charge into Hell itself and bring back Dahlia, and Rose, and Martin, and River…

Maybe he hated cemeteries because they reminded him of the people he lost. If he looked around, how many of the graves were there because of him?

His chunky boots slammed into the hard packed earth as he walked, a comforting thump in the silence. It had stopped raining ages ago, but the grass was still wet and now that the coolness of the night set in, condensation seemed to hang in the air like wet laundry strung out to dry.

The place was silent, not a rustle of wind or chirp from a cricket to break it up. That was why the voice boomed across the mossy gravestones like an uppercut.

"Oh my my! Don't we have a special guest here tonight!"

A young girl appeared out of the fog as if xe was a hallucination. She sat on top of a giant mausoleum in the center of the cemetery, swinging xer stockinged legs freely. They made hollow thumps when they hit the stone, giving the impression she was moreso a wooden doll come to life rather than a person.

And she did look like a doll, with a tiny figure and ruffled dress consisting of only the colors black and neon green. However, what xe lacked in intimidation factor, xe made up for by carrying a huge metal club that was also swinging at her feet.

Raven stepped closer, near enough to see her delicately painted face.

"Hello, Arcane. Still on gate duty I see."

The girl opened her mouth in what could have been a grin, if someone learned how to smile by listening to instructions of how to move your face muscles rather than seeing the real thing happen in person. Xer teeth were black as coal, and so was her tongue.

"Oh you would like that, wouldn’t you~” She started in a sing-songy voice, but then, after Raven raised a brow, xe cleared her throat, cheeks flushing.

“Nah, I'm just filling in for this Jack kid. Heard you were coming back and just couldn't wait to see ya."

She pushed off the building and dropped down next to him. Or.. not quite right next to him, because she was floating in the air a short, safe distance off, something that requires way too much energy just to remain on eye level with him.

Raven snorted, spirits and their vanities, and tossed her a sack of newly acquired gold.

Arcane snatched the gold out of the air before he had so much of a chance to blink, and began counting the coins. The next few moments were silent, other than the sharp click of metal being dropped back into the bag.

Although Raven really hated his job, one of the few benefits was learning how to read people— and finding a way to use that to his advantage.

Arcane was a wrathful entity— a spirit given flesh with the promises of cold revenge— or something else along those lines. What that meant was she had a passion, but unfortunately xe also had a big, big contract with some Guardian of Death in the way of that passion. So, the sooner she paid off xer debt, the faster she would be freed into the world to wreck as much havoc or despair as she so pleased.

And that, friends, is a very good bargaining chip.

“How many do you have patrolling the perimeter?” In less than a moment Raven had reclaimed her spot on top of a mausoleum as if it were his throne, forcing Arcane to turn quickly if xe didn’t want xer back to him. She looked stricken.

“What? How did you- how did you know that?” The wobble in her voice betrayed her as she clutched the sack of money to her chest like a shield.

Raven tilted his head. “You think I wouldn’t know? Come out, come out, wherever you are, demons.”

A shadow condensed in the corner, spitting out a humanoid beanpole who began frantically signing to Raven, some stuff about begging for mercy which was complete overkill since it’s not like he would actually kill any of them.

“Ah, just Neroli? I was expecting a bigger army for my visit.” He began signing too, now that he needed them both present in the conversation.

Raven didn’t know much about Neroli other than the fact he was some sort of low-tier entity like Arcane, but he did know that the two of them together had a special affinity that he so desperately needed.

"I want a quiet entrance into the Underneath, one that doesn’t appear on any radars, and I know you two can do it. I’m willing to pay handsomely, by the way.”

Arcane sniffed at the ‘handsomely’ part. Xe’d already counted the money and knew it was jack shit compared to what others would pay. That's why Raven was very much counting on his fear factor to get him what he wanted.

"Can't you already portal directly into the City-" Arcane began the accusation with an irritating huff, but was cut off by a warning nudge from Neroli.

The boy looked ready to lay his life on the line for Raven, probably as a thank you for not ending it so soon. (Again, Raven wasn’t going to, he needed them both alive, or, in whatever in-between state they were in currently.)

"Will you open the gate or not?" He forced his voice to sound terribly bored with this conversation, regardless if his entire body was screaming for them to say yes. If he wanted things to go smoothly in the City of the Dead he needed to get in (and hopefully out) quick.

Luckily, neither of them sensed the urgency, and after a private conversation, Arcane begrudgingly agreed.

"Fine, we will. But don’t spread the word that we can be bought for cheap, ya hear?"

Raven agreed with a polite smile, and once the deal was brokered, they all eased back into comfortable familiarity. Arcane switched back to her haughty personality and Neroli poked fun at xer whenever he got the chance. Raven, too, joined them as if they were old friends, enough to keep everyone laughing and chipper until he was through the gateway and in the bleak gray lands of the Underneath.

Tag list: @thebonecarver @victorfrankingstein @confused-as-all-hell @iambecomeyourvillain @brekkercookie @fallen-from-olympus @purpl-cryptid @reyyya @thecurlychameleon @naz-yalensky @thesexypanda-boo @kazoo-the-demjin @twelve-kinds-of-trouble @crime-mastergogo

[zoekrystall]

Did that fav pkmn thing on a whim and I'm sorry for all my babies I didn't choose bc I really like too many by some.

Love how it's mostly pretty ones and then there's clodsire. Even tho I got it in my team since the beginning of violet do I continuously forget its name bc I just call it by the nickname blobby (one of the rare times I didn't spend hours googling the perfect nickname but it nonetheless is a perfect one)

And for fun without any legendaries as fav

Reg nicknames I even write all down so I only spend decades once for each pkmn (unless I don't like the prev one anymore). Need to update that someday since it's mostly old revolution ones but hey. Blaze do I use for arcanine nowadays more and ninetails got others. Gardevoir got soteria nowadays which I prefer more. Etc.

[raksh-writes]

Oof, the job hunting anxiety is real. I've barely resigned from my current job (first time for me, already stressful enough with the doubts and all) and now gotta start job hunting again for just the second time in my life and Im Stressed out of my mind, can barely focus and it's so damn counter productive 😩 Anyone has any tips? I know it'd probably be best to just-- suck it up and send those emails and applications and whatnot, but maybe there's something beside that? 🙈 Sending those out is about as stressing as the possible response and dealing with it all and my anxiety is having such a field trip with it, OOF

[ladyseidr]

Okay, i’m doing some clearing up on this blog because i think it’ll make getting back to writing less overwhelming. All asks older than 5 months have been deleted + i’m going to be doing another cleanse of my threads. nothing super recent will be deleted, but anything else is fair game. i’ve really gotta lower my draft number lmao

as always, take this as an invitation to bombard me with new asks, ask for starters, or jump into my IMs for plotting. 

[weirdthoughtsandideas]

Can you write another Leonetta steamy drabble with "Can I touch?" I won't complain if it's a little more steamy than usual 👁️👄👁️

Sure, i'll do anything for you anonymous leonetta shippers. You're one of a kind... you're just so... excited ;)

Leon and Violetta were at their apartment, eating dinner with Francesca and Diego, who were over that night. They've had a great time. Right now, Francesca was telling a story and everyone listened. All except Leon. He was... distracted.

Right before Fran and Diego had gotten there, Violetta had been giving him a really passionate kiss - and he couldn't stop thinking about it. She hadn't kissed him like that since the first time they... took it to the next level, to describe it lightly.

He now looked at Violetta across the dinner table. She gave him a flirty smile. He just wished the dinner could be over, so he could be alone with her.

"Oh, it's late!" Francesca suddenly said. Leon felt relieved.

"Wait," Diego said, "Before, we have to tell you something."

"Right!" Francesca said, smirking. "Well, should you tell them or should I?"

"We'll tell them together!"

"Ok..." Diego and Francesca started to count down.

"We're expecting!"

Leon and Violetta gasped.

"Yeah," Diego said, "It shocked us too. A little accident, if you will."

"Diego!" Francesca scoffed.

"I'm kidding, of course! But yeah, considering our... well, it's no surprise really."

"Congratulations!" Violetta exclaimed happily.

As Diego and Francesca put on their shoes to leave, Francesca pulled Violetta to the side.

"Honestly, with how much you've told me about you and Leon's... little adventures, I am surprised you two haven't knocked up yet."

"Me too," Violetta admitted, "We aren't... on any protection, if you will." She then let out a chuckle.

Francesca shrugged, "Maybe it will happen sooner or later. You never know."

-

As they said goodbye to Diego and Francesca and closed the door, both of them sighed.

"Now it's just you and me," Leon said, "Finally."

He caressed her arms. She took the opportunity to kiss him on the lips quickly.

"I haven't stopped thinking about that kiss..." Leon admitted, "The one you gave me before the dinner."

"Mhm?" Violetta replied, smiling.

"You haven't gave me one of those kisses since... do you remember?"

Violetta took his hands and led him towards the bedroom. "Oh, of course..."

They sat down on the bed and it didn't take long for them to start kissing. They knew each other so well by this point, it didn't take far for the lust to get them.

"Can I touch?" Leon suddenly asked. He had his hands inside Vilu's pants.

"Always," she replied, "But remove my pants first., so you can get a better grip."

He did as he was told.

"You know," he said, "I always thought we were the first ones to get knocked up. I can't recall the last time we used..."

"Yeah. But hey, if it happens, it happens."

"Exactly... and in the meantime, we just... get to enjoy these moments."

He started to touch her lightly, causing her to squirm.

"You know just where to touch me," she said.

"Can I take my pants off too?"

"You don't have to ask me for that, Leon. Besides, it's always a pleasant sight to see you without pants on."

He smiled at her. Without pants, nothing could be hidden. There was a very visible bulk in his boxers, which only made Violetta pleased.

They made out for a bit, before Violetta gave him a smirk.

"Do you wanna try and see if we get knocked up?" she asked teasingly.

"Princess," he replied, "With how turned on I am right now, I wouldn't be surprise if you get pregnant with twins."

[tiwtdafs]

.

[finniestoncrane]

Virginal vault dweller reader you say?? I'd eat that up (and so would Cooper, heh) but seriously I would read the hell out of that if you're up for it <3

Different Up Here

Cooper Howard x Fem!Reader, word count: 6.3k anon thank you lmao i had already started drafting this, so vault dweller reader isn't quite a virgin but they are definitely inexperienced and have never known pleasure like the kind that cooper can offer 🤎 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: power imbalance, dubious consent because once you've said yes to cooper you can't change your mind, overstimulation, crying, oral sex, fingering, instructional, full penetration babiessss i realised i never tag that shit but yeah it's in here lmao, cumming inside, no protection, sweet coop afterwards but only briefly

If anyone else had asked you in that moment how you were, you couldn't have answered accurately without any hint of sarcasm and irritation. You were being worn down, like buildings by the sands of the desert. Each little molecule of your optimism being torn away from you, painful like plucking a hair. But when Cooper asked you, you tried your best to push down your knee jerk response.

"Let's see, shall we? Since leaving the vault a month ago, bravely in search of resources and supplies for my friends, I have killed, maimed, and eaten things I hope to never think of again. I'm in a constant cycle of very, very stressed and then very, very bored where there is no happy medium between fearing for my life and wishing for death. And oh, by the way, I'm sweating buckets the whole time because it's deathly fucking warm. Thank you for asking, Cooper!"

Instead, you shrugged and offered him at least a partial truth.

"It sounds silly... but I'm kind of bored."

A dry chuckle passed over Cooper's lips.

"Heh, that's a new one for out here."

Sensing an opportunity to at least get some conversation out of him, you sat up on the rusty bed frame, your body sinking into the almost entirely flattened mattress as you crossed your legs and did your best to get Cooper to talk more than a sentence at a time.

"Really? I would have thought you'd be bored a lot, especially when there's no raiders, or mirelurks, or scavengers, or feral ghouls, or super mutants, or roving gangs of-"

"See, this is why I'm never bored. Always somethin' or someone to be killin'."

"But what about like... now? When there's nothing else to do. There's no magazines, no books, no TV."

You watched as Cooper turned from you with a slight smile. You knew the one, the familiar grin that meant you'd divulged some information about your life in the vaults, something he always found so amusing. It was your naivety, your optimism. He was endlessly fascinated by it, as though listening to you talk about it reminded him of something he had before.

That fascinated you. It made you want to stay around him, the way he listened silently as you talked about the old films that were on the holotapes, the food that was still fresh and available, the music you could hear whenever you wanted to, not reliant on some two-bit radio host. He paid attention to you. And any time his deep, brown eyes focused on your lips it made your heart flutter in an admittedly unexpected manner.

Remembering that feeling, you tried again, hoping that your next approach might be something that interested him a little more than just conversation.

"You know how we used to pass time in the vaults?"

Over the sound of the evening breezes that whipped up the sand you could still hear Cooper sigh before he spoke.

"Now if you tell me that you wanna go out there again tonight to find an old blast radius board... well I am just going to have to shoot you."

You laughed at what you hoped was a joke and waved him off, despite the fact that he was still turned away from you, unable to see your gesture as he tried ignoring you in what you assumed was the hope that you might shut up and leave him alone.

"No, no no no no no. Just..."

The lump in your throat felt like it was about to choke you, so you swallowed the clump of nerves quietly, your voice trembling as you finished your sentence.

"... fooling around... y'know?"

Cooper turned to face you. You had piqued his interest, and you couldn't help but show the giddy glee on your face, the smallest smile crossing your lips as your eyes widened. But his words wiped away all hope that you had garnered in that short span of time.

"Oh... oh darlin'."

He laughed a little, each little sound of the short, sharp giggle like a slap to the face.

"I don't think you're ready for that at all."

You raised an eyebrow, defiant, irritated, and keen to know how he thought he had you pegged so quickly. You'd never talked about anything like that with him before. Was he assuming that you were a virgin based on how you behaved around him alone? Maybe he figured that the lack of flirting on your part was down to a complete lack of experience, when in reality, it was because every flirtatious quip he threw your way made you so nervous and flustered you felt like you might throw up.

"How come I'm not ready? I mean, I've... I've done stuff... I've done it!"

"The fat you're not saying it how it is makes me think that you are absolut-"

"I've had sex, Cooper. I've fucked before. I've been fucked."

Blinking off the irritation at being interrupted by you, Cooper pushed up the brim of his hat and stared directly at you, as though he was examining your, to see if you would stand up for yourself any further.

"By who? One of your little buddies underground? Fucking like little bunnies? I don't think that qualifies you, sweetheart."

"Why? Sex is sex..."

You said it with such confidence. As if you really knew. As if you hadn't spent your teenage years practising on your hand, holding a pillow close, lining up for that one girl in the vault who would sell practice kisses for extra bubble-gum. You'd had sex before, of course. You weren't a liar. Just because you'd only ever done it once didn't render it nonfactual. Just because it had only lasted for all of four minutes. Just because you weren't sure you even orgasmed, and your friend had told you that you'd know if you'd orgasmed. Just because it was all over so quickly, and he'd run off before anyone could catch you both, avoiding you at every opportunity after that.

"... Isn't it?"

"Oh no it ain't. Besides, like I keep telling you, it's different up here. Everything's different up here. And that includes fuckin'."

The way he said the word, consonants enunciated with such grit and vigour, filled your stomach with knots that began to tighten as you considered in what way things were so different.

"What exactly do you mean by that?"

Cooper sighed, exasperated, resigning himself to the fact that you were going to keep talking to him regardless of his short replies and attempts to end the conversation.

"You are a dog with a bone, huh? Ain't gonna let it go."

His yellowed teeth were exposed as his lips pulled back in a baring, mischievous smile. Those knots doubled, the ends being pulled by tension in your nervous system as Cooper's smirk put you into a dazed stupor.

"No, sir."

"Now, I don't remember signing on to be your personal tutor in all things apocalypse. Do I really need to show you how everything works up here?"

As your cheeks began to blush, you nodded enthusiastically.

"Yes, sir."

You were hopeful for just a bit of a distraction. Something to help take the stress away. To relieve the tension that had been building up between you and Cooper as of late. You'd been studying him, watching the way he looked at you, fascinated by your perceived, and frankly obvious, innocence. The way his fingers moved, contributing to the skilful way he handled his gun and his ropes. The confidence, the charisma, the charms.

You wanted him, but you weren't quite sure how to broach the situation without it seeming desperate. But you were past that now. You were desperate For anything, just something. Something to cure the monotony of walking and hiding and fighting and surviving. You didn't want to just survive. You wanted to at least find a semblance of fun and pleasure in this nightmare you had found yourself in. And in the vaults, when board games and books and debates got boring, there was always fucking. That was what you desired most right now. The fact that Cooper happened to be the closest target for your desires was just a sweet miracle, or a cruel tease depending on how willing he was.

And luckily, he seemed agreeable.

"Well then, how about you come over here and let ol' Coop show you a little thing or two about how dirty you can really get up here in the mean, dusty Wasteland, hm?"

Your excitement was palpable, even though you were trying to keep your composure. There was no escaping the echo of the giddy squeal you let out as you jumped up from the bed and made your way over to Cooper. He waited in the far corner of the room, setting himself down on an old armchair as you stepped towards him, slapping his thighs as an indication of where he wanted you. And you did as you were told, following his instructions, knowing they hadn't led you astray so far in your time together.

It felt awkward at first, being so close to him. You shifted your weight nervously, trying to get comfortable while making sure Cooper was still at ease, which of course, he was. He always was. Nothing stirred him, he was forever at peace. Competent in any situation. Quick to adapt. And as you fidgeted and fussed, you felt his strong hands pushing you forward on his lap, until your chests were practically pressed together, his hands skirting over your lower back as he held you still. In command. In control. The sudden sensation of his hands on your body made your breath hitch, a soft, surprised squeal on the inhale that had Cooper raising his brow at you.

"Now... you agree that you asked for this, alright? Because I am not going to put my effort into entertaining your little whims if you're gonna get fussy and decide it's too much for you. I did warn you."

"Yes, you did, and I really don't think you needed to. I doubt there's too much different about it, and I've picked up what I needed to know pretty quickly from your other lessons, haven't I?"

Your retaliation to his insistence that you needed him to teach you everything, and that some things just might prove themselves a little too hard even for your levels of enthusiasm, had irritated him when he'd first met you. But now your optimism and sheer refusal to believe anything was too much for you were a source of entertainment for him. A challenge.

"That's fine then, darlin'. But I'll remember that."

His eyes bore into your soul, keeping your focus on him as he dared you to look away. They sparkled as he ran his tongue over his lips, the pretence of preparing for his next words covering the obvious flirtation in the way he dragged the flat muscle along his chapped skin.

"So, gimme a benchmark here, lil lady. How much foreplay was involved in your previous encounters? I'd hate to leave you high and dry."

"Foreplay...? What... uh, what is that?"

Cooper sighed, rolling his eyes before closing his eyelids over gently.

"Well, it's something like this."

He pushed a loose strand of hair back behind your ear, rough fingers following the curve and grazing over your neck as he let them drift down the front of your chest, tickling the exposed skin as far as your jumpsuit would allow before he took a hold of the zip at the front. A quick flit of his eyes up to you seemed to ask for permission, and your small, almost imperceptible nod, told him to keep going.

Slowly, painfully so, he pulled the zip down, watching as the centre of your torso was slowly revealed to him. Smooth skin, in comparison to his anyway, clear of any unnatural blemishes or war wounds. One calloused digit followed down your sternum to your stomach and back up, hooking under the left side of the fabric and pulling it over, then the other, exposing the top half of your body to him.

Cooper traced his fingertips over the top of your breasts, watching as your chest moved in and out, slowly, but exaggeratedly. The knots in your stomach felt like they might burst with the tension as his sharp, ragged nails crossed over your hardening nipples, a gentle tingle coursing through your veins.

"Well?"

"No... n-nothing like that... just grabbing..."

"Oh yeah? You like that? How about this?"

He closed two fingers around your nipple, one hand still on your back to keep you balanced as your body reacted to his touch. Between the two digits, you felt your nipples heating up, the slight, burning pain from the way he squeezed them sending a signal down your spine that seemed to affect every part of you. Tighter, tighter, and then as your eyes closed a little more, eyelids pressed tight, he would ease up to offer some relief.

"You like that? Like it rough?"

"I think... I think I like both."

"So, something like this?"

He teased your nipples once more, pressing harder with his fingertips, pulling them out and jiggling your breasts as he tugged at them, this lewder act interspersed with a gentle caress as he held your breast against the palm of his hand, carefully cupping it as he flicked his thumb over the sensitive and completely erect nipple.

You bit your lip, trying to keep quiet, Coop's hand moved swiftly from your body to your cheeks, popping the lip back out as he pressed his thumb and forefinger into your face. Understanding the message, and seemingly showing this in your wide-eyed gaze, he let his rough, leathery hand make its way back down to your breast, cupping it once more as he spoke.

"Different, see? Pleasure is hard to come by out here. You gotta do it right when you've got the chance."

Cooper leaned into your neck, whispering the words low and slowly, his dry, chapped lips skimming over your skin as he continued.

"I bet down there they didn't know the first thing about real pleasure. Takes time, something like that. You gotta learn the body, gotta make it feel good."

His teeth grazed over your shoulder and back up along your neck before he pulled back, watching your eyes refocus from the haze of arousal.

"Did they make you feel good?"

"No."

You were confident in that statement. It hadn't felt good. It felt rushed. Clumsy. Shameful. And as you pondered it, your mouth remained open in a slight pout which trembled as Cooper asked his next question.

"And what about your pretty lips... did they kiss them?"

"A little..."

Cooper leaned in, his rough lips pressing onto yours with firm contact, his tongue staying in place as though he imagined that might be a bit too much for you right now. But that same level of restraint didn't keep him from letting his teeth catch onto your bottom lip, pulling it out, only letting go when you winced in surprise as the suddenness of the action.

"Didn't bite them either. Of course not, what am I thinking? That would be a little too adventurous for your kind."

His face took on a darker tone as he smiled knowingly towards you.

“And what about these pretty lips?”

Before you could piece together the question, his hand was diving into your jumpsuit, pushing down the front and past the waist, stroking against the front of your underwear which, by now, was soaking wet with your arousal.

“They touch these lips, huh?”

You gasped as he pushed your underwear to the side, stroking his fingers along your slick, plump pussy lips, withdrawing them soon after to taste you on his tongue, the way you had watched him taste the blood of enemies, the blood of victims.

“Stand up, darlin’… Why don’t you take that suit off, hm? Get yourself comfy.”

As you raised yourself up from his hips, your legs wobbled under you, not quite steady enough to support you so soon after being reduced to jelly by Cooper’s touch, his caramelised words that filled your ears, the sharp twang of his accent, the delicate cadence, the power rumbling underneath like an almost silent bassline.

“Do it slowly though.”

Cooper watched carefully as you stood nervously before him, shuffling out of your suit, stripping for him, your hips moving from side to side slow and steady, unintentionally sultry in the way you moved. Without taking his eyes from you he reached for his canteen, taking a long sip from it as you let your suit fall down over your legs, stepping out of it and pushing it to the side with your feet.

“That’s it, darlin’. Can’t do this half-hearted. I need to have access to all of you there. Now come sit back down.”

You held your arms in front of you, feeling far too exposed for the shelter you’d found for the evening. No windows, no locks on the doors. But it was difficult to focus on that worry for too long as you watched Cooper’s tongue flit back out over his lips, clear strands of drool sparkling in the light as he took you in, hungrily, dreamily.

“Turn around though. You face that way.”

The metal buttons on the front of his duster coat were cold against the skin of your back, but you leaned into them anyway. Cooper’s hand curved around your neck and up under your chin, holding your face forward.

“You keep an eye out, holler if you see anything coming. I’ll do everything else.”

A faint clicking sound, the safety on his gun being flicked to off, before those same fingers draped over your mound and down on to your lips, spreading them apart, the cool air of the decrepit room cooling the heat of your hot, aching cunt. With two fingers holding your lips apart, he let the middle digit tap against your clit, each tiny sensation turning your blood cold before heating it exponentially, a cold sweat beginning to form on your brow as you felt a tingle in your abdomen.

The finger that tapped the sensitive bud began stroking it from side to side, laying flat against it length wise as Cooper strummed your body, still holding your chin in his hands, smiling to himself every time your back arched away from him in intense pleasure. Every nerve-ending was at his mercy. He was right, it was different up here. But you wondered how much of that was the Wasteland and it’s effect on sexuality and pleasure, and how much of it was just him. Cooper Howard, Wasteland bounty hunter, a past life he refused to talk about, the most charismatic monster you had ever met. His fingers, daintily crossing over your clit, as you felt his breath, silent except for an occasional hum of satisfaction in the form of a long moan. Maybe it was just Cooper who was different.

It was hard to focus on this new line of though as his hard fingertips clamped down on your clit, pinching it as he rolled it between his fingers. Even harder when he let his hand drop from your neck and instead began teasing at your nipples once more. Soft, cruel flicks over the hardened bumps, his fingers at work on your body, his lips kissing at the back of your neck. Moans growing louder, more frequent, as he let himself enjoy the act of making you squirm. You could tell he was having fun, as you rolled your hips back a little, feeling the thick bulge of his stiffening cock against your rear. You wondered how it might feel, how it might look, and what he could do differently with it.

“Cooper… Coop… I think I’m going to cum…”

His movements quickened, cock twitching against your body as he pinched tighter and pressed his fingers harder against your cunt.

“Don’t you dare, little lady.”

“Ok I’ll… I’ll try but… you have to… stop… please stop… Coop…”

He ignored your please, the whining, desperate begging as you tried to stop your body from the natural, encouraged reaction.

“Have some self-control, sweetheart.”

“Cooper, I really can’t… please… please stop touching me…”

“I absolutely will not.”

Your fingers dug into his thighs, but you noticed that you refused to move away from him. You wanted to do as he asked, wanted to hold yourself back from the brink of orgasm to prolong his touch, but you couldn’t risk him actually stopping, fearing that your body might crumble if his fingers left your quivering, pathetic body for only a second.

Each stroke against your increasingly wet and sensitive pussy had you trembling and shaking, and Cooper had to remove his hand from your breast to keep you steady, placing it under your chin and holding you steady by the neck.

“I am warning you, missy.”

“Cooper… I can’t stop…”

You shuddered and whined as your body gave in to the temptation, feeling a rush of heat and relief as you came on his lap, your arousal coating his pants, adding to the collection of stains and wear on them. But he didn’t stop then.

“No wait… seriously, Cooper… I can’t… I can’t take much more, honestly…”

“Listen, I told you. I said you better not cum. I wasn’t done with you yet.”

Your eyes began to sting with tears of exasperation as your body kept on pushing to its limits, conjuring up another wave of climax, tormenting you with never-ending bouts of arousal that kept you rutting against him, despite how painful it was to keep writhing into his body. You could feel your stomach knotting again, not much time between each orgasm to relax, and you dug your hands into his thighs, pushing your body up off of him as you tensed completely.

“Ok, this time, you do it on my command. You do it when I say you can, alright?”

“Cooper…”

“Don’t give me that pleading shit, you asked me to show you how things are done. Well this is how Cooper fuckin’ Howard does things. So are you ready? You gonna come for me?”

“C-coop… I’ll… I’ll try…”

“Good girl, now you keep that mouth making those whines and moans. I don’t need you to call out my name or anything, I know I’m all you’re thinking about.”

The praise, the self-confidence, the way his fingers seemed to be pulling your orgasm out, motioning for it to come closer to him.

“Come on, darlin’, come on…”

Your vision blurred as the climax came over you, body rolling and convulsing as you came once more at Cooper’s insistence, your cheeks stained with tears, salted water rolling through the layers of grime and clearing paths to your chin.

As you settled back down onto his lap with a shudder, you felt Cooper’s fingers stroking through your hair. He was surprisingly gentle, oddly calm, but you supposed that you deserved his kindness as you had done as he had asked, making up for your previous indiscretion. He was almost cooing, shushing you as you found your breath, establishing your sense of self once more after the overstimulating orgasm that shook your core.

“You seen enough of the big bad world for one day then?”

You probably had, but you still found yourself shaking your head, ignoring the way your body reacted with a violent twitch at the notion of Cooper’s hands delivering intense pleasure.

“A glutton for punishment, hm? Or just keen to learn?”

As you pondered your answer, Cooper seemed to have come to the conclusion for you, as he tapped your hips and began to shift underneath you.

“Alright then, get onto your knees.”

Positioning yourself at his feet, you couldn’t help but look up at him, catching his eyes as he looked down at you with that unique brand of disdain and intrigue he had somehow mastered. You knew what was coming, what was about to happen, and your mouth began watering at the thought. What he might taste like. What he might look like.

You didn’t have to imagine for long though, as you could see his fingers working the belt of his pants, loosening it, unzipping his fly, and gripping his semi-erect cock at the base as he took it out, brandishing it. He kept close attention on your own eyes, a soft sigh of relief imperceptibly escaping his chest as he noticed your pupils widen, your mouth opening in preparation for him.

It was exactly as you had expected. The texture of the shaft was similar to that of his cheeks and his forearms, a similar colouring, though darker at the base and on the shaft which was tinted red. Thick, purple tinged veins covered it, winding around the length, cutting across the ridges of the scars.

“You can come closer, darlin’. I don’t know what they told you about mutations and radiation effects down there in your little utopia, but I can assure you… it doesn’t bite.”

The fear was palpable, clearly, but it was nothing to do with Cooper’s body and everything to do with your lack of experience, which, despite you arguing otherwise, was becoming plainly obvious even to you. You had only ever touched a cock with your hands outside of being quickly fucked. Several times you’d been cajoled into quickly stroking an erection under the blankets before your partner ran off to the bathroom, clean and tidy, flushing away the sins. And you were very well aware that there was always the option to suck on one, but it had never presented itself. It had never seemed that appealing to you. Until you were faced with Cooper’s.

He hadn’t even asked you to do either yet, but you found yourself curious, salivating over the thought of him, mind racing as you imagined how he might feel against your tongue.

“Can I taste it… you?”

Cooper smiled warmly, one of the few times you had seen him look at you with genuine pride.

“Now that is using your initiative. Of course you can.”

You kept your hands to yourself as you leaned in towards his body, content to let Cooper wield his length at you, his hand firm around the base as you inched closer, tongue pressed out over your lips. A strand of drool collected and spilled forward, hitting the floor in a soft patter just before the tip of your tongue came into contact with the tip of his cock.

A lot of the movements were instinctual, following your desires more than what you thought might be protocol as you dragged your tongue up the shaft and swirled over the blushing head of his cock. It tasted bitter, but in a pleasant way.  Savoury, not sweet. Salted, a tang that stayed there for a few seconds after your tongue had moved on to another spot. A flavour you found yourself craving now.

Cooper gripped tighter and pushed forward, taking you by surprise as he slid himself into your mouth, his free hand moving to the back of your head, fingers curling into your hair. As the taste of him hit the back of your tongue, cock almost touching your throat, you coughed and spluttered a little.

“Fuck me, darlin’… do you need me to show you how to do this too?”

He looked down at you, filled with pity as he saw your face. Red cheeks, puffed out, lips stretched over the girth of his cock, tears welling up in your eyes as you struggled to breathe.

“Breath through your nose… breathe in…”

You followed his instructions, instantly calmed when you found your lungs filling with air once more. Almost immediately back to enjoying yourself, the feeling of Cooper inside of you, the control he had as he held your head against him.

“Now… you don’t want to choke too much, so keep your tongue flat… yeah, just like that…”

It was so much easier like that, and you could feel your cheeks getting warmer and redder as you realised that not only had you embarrassed yourself with your spluttering and lack of knowledge, but that Cooper had clearly done this a lot.

“And your teeth… well, usually they’ll tell you to keep ‘em outta the way, but you know me… gotta be different…”

Taking the hint, you let your jaw close slightly, the pain of the stretch lessened, your teeth scraping along the top of his shaft as your tongue worked the underneath, sucking and rolling as much as you could while keeping it flat.

He didn’t say much else, and you couldn’t tell if he was particularly enjoying himself. It worried you, the fact that he had specific preferences, the way it was so clear how much more experienced he was than you. How many others had there been? And were they all better than you? As your mind wandered to your anxieties, you completely missed the fact that you had begun to drool all over yourself until Cooper relaxed his grip on your head and wiped at your chin with his thumb. Catching your eyes and sensing some of your worries, he was surprisingly quick to soothe you.

“You can swallow or spit or let it all spill out, I don’t mind makin’ a mess darlin’. But whatever you’re doing, you keep that up.”

You were so pathetically grateful for the encouragement, for the tiniest semblance of praise, that you felt yourself moaning involuntarily. The soothing motion of sucking on his cock, the taste of something new, the comforting knowledge that he was happy with your efforts. You could feel your clit throbbing, aroused by Cooper’s satisfaction, how pleased he was with the way you worked him over.

Which is why it surprised you so much when he pulled his cock from your mouth, your lips slipping off of it with a disgustingly lewd popping sound, drool spilling onto your chin in long strands which stretched from your lips to his cock and tore apart as he distanced himself from you.

And again, that sympathetic gaze, the way he could tell what you were thinking before you even said it.

“Oh, don’t you look at me with those big, sad eyes. You got nothin’ to worry about, sweetheart. That was good, ‘specially for a first try…”

He winked to you as he spoke, causing your heart to skip enough beats that you thought you might die there and then.

“… It’s just that I’m all slicked up and ready to go now… so you wanna bend over for me? Or do you wanna come sit on my lap?”

“Uh… lap, please… I was kinda bent over for the last… first time.”

“Well, you come and take a seat then, darlin’, let ol’ Coop show you something new.”

You nervously settled your entirely nude body back down onto his thighs. Cooper’s hands were gentle against your shoulders as he pulled you backwards with him, leaning at a slight angle in the chair, his cock rigid and firm as it sat against your waiting cunt, coated in your drool which almost seemed to shimmer with the dancing light of the fire.

Then, so carefully, so gently, far more than you’d ever seen him be before, Cooper took hold of his cock at the base and slid it inside of you, one hand on your stomach as he braced you, keeping your body steady as he inserted himself further and further between your clenching walls.

“Bigger than before?”

You nodded, biting your lip as you felt the distinct stretch, his rough, textured cock forcing its way inside your cunt, pressed up to the hilt, testing your limits.

“Better?”

“Mhm…”

“Speak up, darlin’.”

With your voice strained and breathy, you managed to form some words.

“Yes… it’s better.”

“That’s it, good girl. Now, I’m gonna buck my hips, ok? You just try and keep your balance.”

Below you, Cooper shifted a little, his hips rolling backwards, inches of his cock escaping your tight, aching cunt, before he rolled them forwards and upwards, back into you. A slow, steady pace that he focused on keeping until you felt warmer, more relaxed.

“You got this, it’s like riding a horse.”

“I’ve never… hm… ridden a horse…”

Cooper chuckled, a low and rasping sound that sent shivers over your skin and seemed close enough to you that it was coming from inside of your body.

“Never ridden a ghoul before either, but you’re handling it alright for a first timer.”

You were coping ok, you had to admit, but you could feel your stomach muscles tensing, the knots back in full force as they tensed and tightened, loosened and frayed with each pump of his cock within you.

“Ah… Cooper…”

“Too much, darlin’? Does it hurt?”

There was a sense of genuine care in his tone, as though he had taken it upon himself to show you that yes, things were different up there in the Wasteland, but that didn’t always mean they were worse. Some things were good, if not a little bit difficult to take at first.

“A little…”

Cooper tilted your chin up, forcing your head to lean back completely against his shoulder. In a delicate move, one far more romantic than you imagined from him, he ran his thumb over your lips, angling his neck to look at them, his own mouth open ever so slightly, a monotonous panting as he kept his hips moving, increasing the speed and the force at which he entered you.

His eyes flicked up suddenly, looking into yours, catching your gaze and holding unblinking eye contact as he spoke.

“I know… I know… Just a little longer, though…”

He closed his eyes, focusing on the feeling of his cock pushing against your body, enveloped in your hot, wet, velvety interior.

“I know it hurts… but I ain’t stopping, so don’t even ask… here…”

You watched as he brought a finger to your lips, offering it up to you.

“…you bite down on that if it gets too much, ok… but don’t hold back on those sweet sounds… I wanna hear you scream.”

With that vaguely threatening remark, he thrust up into you, banging against your body, spurring on your orgasm but unleashing a dull ache that spread through every sensitive part of you.

“Won’t… be long… keep it together… good girl…  good girl…”

It felt good, the pain, the sting, the ache, the shivers. The fact that he was using you, finding pleasure in you. All of it culminating in Cooper’s nearing orgasm which you could sense was closing in on him. His movements were becoming more frantic, sloppier, and he was mouthing all manner of sweet nothings as he let his façade slip away.

And those soft mumbles opened up into a wide roar as he clung to your body, the hand on your neck cutting off the air to your lungs only briefly, one hand on your lap pressing sharp indents into your skin as he forced himself into you. The last few moments of his fevered thrusting, fucking you wildly, drool pooling in the corner of his mouth as he rutted into you in a dazed stupor before his body gave in. His cock throbbed, each pulse sending another rope of cum against your insides, filling you with his seed as he shuddered finally, slinking backwards into the chair and taking in a deep breath as you removed yourself from him.

You’d only managed to take a few steps forward before Cooper addressed you, opening his eyes to watch you standing there awkwardly, his cum dripping down your thighs, a warmth that quickly turned cool in the air of the room.

“Did I say you could get up?”

Panic settled in your chest, aware that you had waited until you felt his muscles relax, his body retreating from you, before you slid off his cock, expecting him to push you away anyway, like your first time. You assumed he was finished, and you weren’t sure you were ready for the idea that he might not be done with you.

“Are we… oh, Cooper, I really can’t take anymore.”

Even as you stood, you could feel your legs shaking, weakened by the intense orgasms, the way they tightened against his every movement.

“That’s different up here too then, I suppose.”

Cooper stood up from the chair, pacing towards you with a purposeful stride as he pushed his cock back into his pants, zipping them up as he reached you. You inhaled sharply as he placed his hand at the back of your head, those knots in your stomach beginning to form again, worried that a further, albeit pleasurable punishment was on the cards. But you were surprised as he slid his free hand around your back, tugging at your waist as he pulled you in close to him. A quick smile before his lips were on yours, the brim of his hat pushed upwards as he leaned into the kiss. Warm, gentle, the kind of kiss you’d seen in movies. Practised and confident, meaningful, sincere.

When he pulled back, your body following him a little before you settled back onto your feet, he smiled warmly.

“Sweet with the sour, darlin’. You gotta keep ‘em wanting more.”

“M-more?”

More as in now? Or more as in the idea that Cooper had enjoyed himself and would be willing to offer that kind of pleasure to you again. And he answered with a wink.

“Definitely. There’s a still a lot you’ve got to learn.”

[causalitylinked]

( it took me a while, but i finally figured out how to organize my downloads by type instead of date, so now, i no longer have to scroll all the way down to the bottom when trying to find folders... )

[hannieehaee]

OUTTA MY MIND (teaser)

18+ / mdi

summary: getting a brand new job as a senior idol's manager was scary enough on its own, but it became even worse when said idol was jeon jungkook, idol of all idols. what made it even worse? when jungkook began taking a special liking to you, damning any conflict of interest his crush on you may have had.

content: idol!au, staff!reader x idol!jungkook, jungkook is shameless about his crush on reader, but it's fine bc reader likes him back!!, reader acts hard to get bc her job is too important though boo, afab reader, banter, jk is a flirt, reader is a little bit shy, a lot of rlly wrong info about working in the industry, smut, oral (f receiving), penetrative sex, etc.

(^ no actual content warnings in the teaser)

wc: 924 (teaser); 7.7k (full fic)

release date: may 31st

or you can check it out on my ko-fi or patreon today by subscribing to either one!

a/n: ive had this in the drafts for a while but kept forgetting to finish it lol anyways i hope u guys enjoy it once it comes out<3 (also not 100% proofread oops..)

masterlist | kofi/patreon

support me through a one time tip<3

Whenever you'd tell someone you worked within the entertainment industry, – the music industry, to be precise – people always showed a little extra interest in your words, probably assuming you to be involved in the flashier aspects of it. The statement on it's own sounded exciting, enigmatic even. This would only then be followed by disappointed upon finding out your specific profession of choice, deeming it less exciting than most.

You were a manager. No, you were not an active member of the entertainment industry itself, but you were one of the many pillars necessary for the talent to create the entertainment people would always seek.

Being as young as you were, it had been hard to get to where you were so quickly. Networking had been your best friend all throughout your career, eventually landing you in your current role – one that would only open even more doors for you.

It had only been a week since you had received a call from your friend – an old friend from an internship who just so happened to be a former Hybe video producer – letting you know of a recent opening as one of the many managers at the company. Having been between gigs at the time, you jumped at the chance without a second thought. Hybe? The biggest entertainment company in Korea? You didn't need any details before agreeing.

It was a few days later in which you found out the details. The opportunity had been even more life-altering than you'd thought.

Originally, you had believed you'd end up becoming manager to one of the many brand new rookie groups in the growing company. With so many surging youth in the industry, it made sense to you that you'd be assigned such a role, not having had any prior experience within Hybe itself.

Except that wasn't the case. Having previously worked and interned at a few other South Korean entertainment companies through the years, it seemed like Hybe deemed you experienced enough to assign you the role of becoming a senior artist's manager.

Jeon Jungkook.

Senior artist had been an understatement. Those had been the words written in your contract, explaining your role in excruciating detail, yet failing to mention that your client would be Korea's most popular singer.

You couldn't lie, you were insanely intimidated by your new role. Despite being proudly skilled at your job, becoming the manager of an idol who had been in the game for longer than you'd even been out of college was a bit scary. Jungkook had gone from the absolute bottom to the top, he had most likely lived through it all by now – what kind of expertise could you offer someone who had already seen it all?

Being manager of an idol differed slightly from managing any other person. Idol companies usually handled the schedulings, bookings, and the legalities of their artists. As a manager, you somewhat took the role of a bodyguard. You were meant to show up everywhere Jungkook went and become his spokesperson – vying for him as if your life depended on it.

And now it was too late to back out – not that you actually wanted to. All paperwork had been signed, you had your own personal Hybe badge and all the benefits that came along with working at the company. Any feelings of intimidation or fear for the role would have to be put aside as you walked into the Hybe building to meet with your new client; the boy you'd have to stick by 24/7 from now on.

You weren't sure what you were expecting upon meeting him. It wasn't like there would be any special introduction, or even as if you were his sole manager; no, he actually had a few others who would occasionally aid him in the absence of his main manager, which was now you. Today was a workday for him, meaning that he likely already had a few people in supportive roles as he did whatever it was that Jeon Jungkook did while working.

Walking into the huge building, after getting lost a few times, you made your way to the seventh floor, which, as you'd been informed, had various rooms designated for photoshoots. That's where you'd find Jungkook for the first time, presumably having one of the many shoots scheduled for this week.

Having possession of his schedule made you realize how busy idol life was. Despite having no public schedules all this week, he had a packed itinerary, filled with either shoots or signings or producing sessions. You hadn't even met him yet, but you were already assured that he was overly hardworking – and you had maybe also stalked him online this past week.

It was very unlikely you'd even speak to him, seeing how busy he was. Your duty, after all, was just to be one of the many members of his team, taking care of any logistics as you went around with him, but not taking away from his time by socializing with him.

Upon entering the room, he was the first thing you noticed. Ignoring every other person working the room, your eyes focused specifically on him. It was hard not to, since he was quite literally standing under the spotlight, modeling for a camera. But it was more than that. He had an aura that filled up the room. Putting aside every stylist and photographer in the room, every staff member and intern, he was truly the epitome of main character.

Fuck. Was this going to cause trouble?

....

you can check it out today on my ko-fi or patreon by subscribing to either one!

[shadesoflsk]

THE OLD WAY

pairing: Leon Kennedy x fem reader

summary: Living at a farm and being married surely has it perks. However, Leon can't help but think something is missing.

warnings: smut, MDNI, oral (fem receiving) p in v, mating press (??), creampie, breeding kink, outdoor sex, age gap (unspecified), established relationship, fluff, Leon is so husband in this, mentions of pregnancy, domestic bliss.

word count: 4k

author's note: Hello! I had this fic in my drafts for sooo long. I was kind of ashamed to post this since it's not my usual type of content but !!! fuck it !! Ovulation goes brrr. I hope you all like it!I had an older Leon in mind but I used a re6 leon pic for funsies. (And please... don't judge the lack of creativity in my title... I didn't know what to write.)

MY MASTERLIST

City life was no longer fitting for a man like him. Job was not the same and he was afraid he might not get up from one of his falls one day. Joints no longer worked like they used to, a painful reminder of how his age was getting to him.

That's why he chose to retire, rather early for the average citizen. But he believes his position as a federal agent has aged him to the point where he could easily describe himself as an 80 years old man who needed help crouching down.

With that in mind, he wasted no time buying a home away from civilization. Money was no problem and owning a ranch now sounded like the best idea he could come up with. Days turned into weeks, weeks into months, and months into years. Time seemed to flow faster as he settled down in a peaceful lifestyle.

Solitude was very much welcomed. The sounds of blood dripping and ragged screams were replaced by the soft pitty patter of the rain and the usual rooster’s crow each morning, announcing a new day. 

But, as much as he has grown to love and appreciate his simplistic routine, the monotonous daily work and the lack of companionship were hitting him hard. When night came and his thoughts clouded his rational side, he yearned for a change in his life. He was never the romantic type, never been. His previous job as an agent cut off any possibilities of having a partner and settling down like any normal person would. But years made him a sappy man, it seemed.

Life works in mysterious ways, though. He wouldn’t have thought that farm life would bring him a sweet thing like you. It all started with your car breaking down a few meters away from his farm. You wanted to thank him for his help, there was no way you would simply express your gratitude through words, not after his assistance. 

So, your first visit consisted of a home-baked pie which he reluctantly accepted. Not because he didn’t want to but it had been a while since he was last gifted something. That first meeting soon turned into a couple until you were basically there every day. 

“Stay with me,” shifted into a “Be my girlfriend” and therefore the “Marry me?” finally came. 

You were the best thing that has ever happened in his life, a peaceful life away from any danger the city may bring and a beautiful wife by his side? God granted him the most perfect miracle ever. 

He followed the milestones of your relationship to a T. Even though the lack of knowledge was sometimes obvious, he knew the basics of how to keep a girl—his girl— happy. It was in his nature to provide, and living with you meant no exception. 

He always strived to do better, to be better. Your needs were always met and he took pride in knowing he was your husband. No one else but him. 

However, he felt selfish when none of that actually fulfilled him. He was happy with you, don’t get him wrong. Nothing was like before when he thought he would die alone with no one who cared about him. But something in the back of his mind kept bothering him.

And ever since he realized something was missing, he couldn't help but try to find out what it was. 

For days and weeks, he tried picturing the change both of you needed. More pets? You had enough with the dog you both have. Vacations? He had already taken you to the beach. More space in your home? The house at the farm was alright… Maybe a little too big for just the two of you.

Oh.

Oh…

The problem was the two of you. Or rather, being just the two of you on this big ranch. 

He had come to realize that he could, in fact, dream bigger. A few years ago, he would have thought that being married was a faraway dream, unachievable and stupid. But now he’s a husband and maybe if he tries hard enough, he can get to be a family man.

However, nobody has taught him how to face these types of situations. Even when he asked you to be his wife, he needed months of preparation. How was he going to explain this desire to put a baby in you? 

On one peaceful night, he was spooning you as always. It was his favorite activity after taking care of his chores at the farm (and even doing some of yours just so you could relax more). But even when there was nothing but a comforting silence, his thoughts wouldn’t stop flooding his mind. 

He let one of his hands rest on your abdomen, caressing the skin there with circular motions. He tried closing his eyes to prevent more of those thoughts from coming to his mind yet it was useless. His imagination was running wild when he pictured you carrying a life in your belly, swollen and round, the perfect scenario.

He imagined taking care of you. Of course, his pretty wife won’t do anything if she’s next to him. There was no way he wouldn’t take that opportunity to show her how much of a man, a good man he was. 

Pressing a kiss to your cheek as he rested behind you, he spoke before even thinking what he was supposed to say.

“You would be a good mom, you know?” It slipped out of his mouth, he should’ve used a more discreet way of speaking his mind. Now it was too late to draw back.

“What?” You chuckled as you turned your head to look at Leon. “I’d look great as a mom?” 

“Yeah.” He whispered, finally admitting his desire to have a family. “What do you think?”

He wouldn’t push the matter if you don’t feel the same. As much as he loved the idea of having mini versions of both of you, there was no way he would force you to do it. 

“Mhm… I think you’d also be a great dad.” Your voice was as soft as his, indulging in this little moment of intimacy and raw honesty. 

The word dad rings in his mind. His life before having his ranch was violence-filled, then years of solitude surrounded by nothing but nature cornered him to think that being alone was his destiny. Now, you brought him a newfound desire to come back home and finding you and your child. A family.

“You think so?” 

“Absolutely.”

Leon had a silly smile formed on his face. His dreams were actually achievable and domesticity and tranquility were now his everyday life.

“We can try if you want.” You added, feeling how Leon continued drawing shapes on your stomach. “How many would you like?”

Leon didn’t think he would get this far. 

“Want me to be honest?” Leon’s lips curled into a mischievous smile. “I wouldn’t mind having an entire football team with you.” He joked, hearing how you gasped in response.

“Leon!” You slapped his hand out of your abdomen. “I’m the one having them!” 

Both of you laughed as the night embraced both of you like a blanket. Confessions have never been so much welcomed as tonight’s. 

“I love you.” He murmured as his eyes closed. It was a reassurance that whatever life had in store for both of you, he would gladly accept it.

“I love you more.” You replied with the same fondness as always. Drifting off to sleep was easier than ever.

-

Days passed and the conversation wasn’t forgotten. Nonetheless, you let the flow of time and life decide for both of you.

Daily chores needed to be completed no matter what. So, he’s now washing his hands after feeding the horses. You’re holding the garden hose which makes a wet mess given the force of the water. 

“Didn’t know it was raining.” Leon jokes as the water soaks his shirt and pants. 

“Shit, sorry.” You turn off the garden hose as you giggle watching how drenched Leon looks. 

And while you are genuinely sorry since Leon still has things to do on the farm, you can’t help but appreciate the image your husband is offering. White shirt now see-through, giving you the perfect view of his soft abdomen clinging to the fabric.

When you first met Leon, he had told you what an amazing body he had. With so much pride, he once showed you pictures of his past self. Images of a toned torso and strong arms would look appealing to your eyes. But each time Leon and you are intimate, you get to feel his slightly rounder belly pressed against you, his strong arms clinging to you. In those moments you can’t help but thank God for the gorgeous man you have. 

“Enjoying the view?” Leon breaks the silence when he feels your eyes not leaving his body. 

“Maybe…” You quietly whisper as you drop the hose and walk closer to him. “Can’t help it, my husband is so handsome.” You add, hiding your face in the crook of his neck. Inevitably, you inhaled the scent you have grown to love. 

For a moment, you stay there, just drowning in the affection letting your hands rest on his sides unaware of how Leon could feel the slight friction of your breasts against his soaked shirt. The thin fabric of your dress does a poor job of preventing Leon’s hands from wandering around your body. 

A pool of arousal starts setting in Leon as he reaches your ass and gives it a firm squeeze.

With one swift and smooth move, he lifts you off the ground. Your feet are no longer touching the floor as Leon walks away from the barn. And, as if on command, you wrap your legs around his torso, allowing him to walk easier to whatever destination he had in mind.

For once, Leon hates the fact that he owns a big ass farm. His place is a bit far away from the barn, so his decisions are fogged by the desire and neediness he is feeling at the moment. Years in solitude led him to think he was imponent but with the way his jeans seem to get tighter each time your lower half brushes against his, he knows it's not true.

He is a gentleman, don’t get him wrong. He’d have picked you up and carried you to his bedroom as usual, laid you on the bed, taken off your clothes, and fucked you gently (or rough) like he usually did. However, a newfound wish piqued his interest, and even though you're in a secluded area, he wishes everyone would know what pretty girl he got.

Without further thinking and no complaints made, he places you down on the grass. The sensation of the blades tickling your skin is, in a way, bothersome, but your brain is easily turned into mush every time Leon dares to touch you.

Leon, however, wouldn’t allow you to feel any discomfort. His sun-kissed skin would be exposed in swift motion as he takes off his wet shirt. Those antagonizing seconds of admiring him unbuttoning the fabric push you to press your thighs together, seeking any type of release or mere pleasure.

“Up,” And after those endless seconds of him taking off his shirt, his hand taps your hip, motioning you to lift the lower half of your body for him to lay his shirt there. Giving no second thoughts, you raise your rear, pathetically quick, and Leon notices. “So needy, have I been slacking off?”

And his tone gives him away. He is looking forward to letting nature be the witness of your lustful acts. The sun being your light and the grass your makeshift bed. His body embraces the position on top of you.

“Of course I have.” He cooes, bringing his face lower and lower before pressing his cheek against your inner thigh. His stubble resembles sandpaper with how it scratches your skin, but at this point, it brings more pleasure than annoyance. “Look at her, already crying for me.”

His breath tickles the middle area between your legs. The wet spot in your panties is obvious to Leon who wastes no time to bring up that fact. And you want to thank yourself for choosing a dress today because there is no way you could do anything besides laying on the grass and letting Leon treat you so nicely and tenderly.

“How could I?” He hums against the soaked patch of the fabric. “Been neglecting my pretty girl.” He presses a kiss on your clothed area, dragging down the anticipated pleasure you’re looking for. 

“Mhm… please.” Your babbles gain a chuckle out of Leon’s lips. He is enjoying the whole setting, he wouldn’t have known he had a thing for outdoor sex but then again, he loves discovering new things with you. 

Antagonistically, he lifts your dress until it reaches your abdomen and exposes your lower half.

And finally, his fingers hook around the sides of your panties, yanking down the fabric, allowing himself to admire the way he has made a mess of you already. 

As always, he was ready for his favorite meal in the whole world.

Lying on his stomach, he props up on his elbows, his mouth dives into your pussy as his tongue laps at your clit. A moan escapes your lips as the sensation of being eaten out by Leon floods your mind and soul. 

He feasts like a starved man, like he is eating his favorite dessert. He delves into your aching hole, his tongue tasting the sweet and well-known flavor of your juices. He brings your legs over his shoulders, propping you to raise your lower half and reach even deeper. 

“Shit,” Your fingers tangle in his dirty blond hair, shoving his face into your cunt. His lips suck your clit, paying close attention to that part, drawing moans and whines out of you. 

A plethora of names are being said as Leon continues being trapped between your thighs. He flicks his tongue while he feels how some of your slick drips to his stubble. And with the way your legs squeeze him even tighter, he can already guess you’re feeling so much pleasure from his tongue alone.

You arch your back, trying to bring him even closer to your core. The wet noises of his saliva and your slick mix with the outdoor ones. The soft rustling of the trees’ leaves and the birds chirping are a reminder of the scenario you both are in.

Whimpers leave your lips as Leon's tongue makes out with your cunt. Your fingers grip the shirt Leon placed as a makeshift blanket. Heat starts pooling in your belly as the antagonizing seconds of Leon eating you out bring you to the edge.

At last, your body jerks and comes undone in Leon’s grasp. He holds you in place, flattening his tongue to collect every drop of your slick. He could easily cum too just by the fact he was tasting your release. 

“My sweet girl, always so perfect for me.” He finally disconnects from your pussy to crawl back to where your face is. He places some kisses on your neck which is glistening with a layer of sweat given how much pleasure you were previously feeling. 

At last, his lips reach yours and he passionately kisses you. You could easily taste yourself in the kiss yet you don’t care at this very moment. 

For a moment, he indulges in the tenderness of the kiss after bringing you to heaven with just his tongue alone. However, the easily noticeable restraint in his jeans was getting harder to control. 

You feel him grind against you, seeking any type of friction to ease the aching feeling of his erection. 

“Leon… I can’t….” Leon’s intentions are obvious as you feel his clothed dick humping your leg like a needy man yet, you are still tender from your ecstasy. 

“You can…” He brings his face against the crook of your neck once again, placing wet kisses around your skin. “Just one more baby.”

He pleads, he begs, he needs to feel you wrapped around him. Those thoughts about leaving his mark, leaving his seed in you are still pretty much present. So at last, you nod. That’s when you can feel a smile forming on his lips which continue being pressed against your neck. 

“Thank you, thank you.” Acting like he hasn’t touched for ages, you hear the rustle of fabric and his belt buckle falling to the ground. You see how his dick springs out of his boxers when he pulls them down, already leaking precum just from eating you out.

In less than a second, you feel him collecting your previous release, sliding his cock through your folds with such ease that it had you gripping air. 

“Fuck…” He murmurs as he pushes himself painfully slowly, taking his time to feel how your walls tighten around his length. Pinned underneath him, you feel overwhelmed by the sensation of having his body so close to you. 

“My pretty wife…” He whispers as he is finally all the way in. “Look at you, so pretty full of me.” He adds while one of his hands caresses your hair.

He starts gently rocking against your body, the pace is slow and comforting as if trying to remember the way your velvety walls clamp his dick, the stretch being something you’re accustomed to.

“I love you so much, you know that?” He says as he thrusts inside of you, this time a little more urgently. The hand that was previously running through your hair wraps around your waist and lifts it slightly. 

“Mhm…yes.” You nod as your eyes lock with his, witnessing a newfound desire you haven’t seen before. Maybe it was the fact that both of you are outdoors, you don’t know. 

The sounds of his skin slapping against yours mix with your heavy breaths. The perfect music for the perfect scenario. As soon as Leon hits that sweet spot of yours, you whimper his name like a mantra. 

And then again, the thought of a family floods his mind. The mental image of your belly stretching out, making space for the baby is everything he longs for. And not only that, but he craves to take care of you, his pretty wife. You wouldn’t need to lift a finger for the nine months of pregnancy. 

“Wanna fill you up.” He finally confesses in a moan. He isn’t a stranger to dirty talk, you know it well. The way his words come out like a promise and an already-made decision is proof of his not so hidden wish. “This farm is lonely with just the two of us…”

And as he presses his forehead against yours, you see in his eyes the devotion he has for you. The same man that promised you the world is now promising a life, a new life who is going to be the perfect combination of both you and him.

“What’chu mean?” You feign ignorance just for the sake of hearing those words coming out of his mouth again. And as you try to say some more teasing words, you can feel the way his thrusts get rougher as if trying to make a statement. The statement being that he wouldn’t stop until you get pregnant.

“You know what I mean…” He is huffing by now, letting out a grunt as he utters those words. “Wanna get you nice and full.”

Ultimately, your dreams are the same as his. So you allow him to transform this dream of his into his—your—reality now.

“Yeah?” You say through your teeth, trying not to whimper from the fact that his cock is reaching so deep into you. 

“Yeah.” He groans, his sticky forehead never leaving yours as he looks into your eyes and your dazed-out expression. “You’re gonna look so goddamn beautiful as a momma.” 

Out of desperation to fuck you even deeper, he brings your legs to his shoulders, just like he previously did when he was eating you out. But this time, it is an attempt to let his dick mark your womb. 

It is his mission to one day see a positive test. It’s his mission to show his devotion to his princess and the now-future mother of his children. He’d never stop looking at the telltale of his seed making its home in your body. 

He wouldn’t let you do anything besides resting and growing your little miracle. He’d cook, he’d clean, he’d feed you if you ask him to. 

“Keep squeezing me like that, I’m gonna—fuck—cum…” He effortlessly bends your knees even more, bringing them closer to your chest.  “Gonna fill you up until I’m so damn empty.” 

He takes advantage of the vulnerable position you’re in to bring a hand to your clit. Rubbing it, he waits for the imminent climax of both of you.

“Cum for me, princess.” He presses his body on top of you, the position allowing him to let out an almost growl against your ear. The sense of purpose that Leon is showing prompts you to finally reach your climax. With a broken voice and your fingernails leaving crescent moons on his back, you coat his dick with your release. A gooey ring forms at the base of his cock every time he pulls in and out of you. 

His actions don’t stop there, though. He was so close to spilling right inside you and making his dreams come true. He brings the hand that was previously teasing your clit to your face, brushing away some of your hair that has stuck to your forehead, he looks right into your eyes.

“Fucking love you so much.” He grunts, his deep sea eyes never leaving yours, as if trying to engrave this moment in his mind. To forever remember the time when he finally achieved his dream. “You’ll be the prettiest momma ever.”

Although his thrusts are too much for you to handle and the overstimulation turns into a slight discomfort, the way his hand is gently caressing your cheek—a juxtaposition of his determined attempt of marking you— makes you melt on the spot.

And especially since the cold feeling of his wedding ring reminds you of the amazing man you married.

“I'm cumming.” He warns you as his thrusts get sloppy and without rhythm. He's seeing stars at this moment, every time he plunges his dick into you he reaches the sky. And at last, with the way his breath gets laboured and heavy, it announces his high coming.

The head of his dick spurts rope after rope of cum into you, the angle you are in makes it easier for it not to drip out of you. He wouldn’t allow a drop of his seed to go to waste. 

You feel the warm and thick liquid filling your insides, proof of Leon’s actions and therefore fulfilled wish. For a moment, you stay there letting his weight crush you and your bent legs. 

After a while, he slowly slips out of you, carefully placing your legs on the ground. You feel the grass blades tickling your calves where Leon’s shirt doesn’t reach. 

Leon rests his arm next to your head, admiring the dazed-out expression you have after letting him fill you.

“Hey…” He murmurs before letting out a soft chuckle. 

“Hi you.” You respond with a smile amidst the exhaustion that is running through your veins. “We really just did that.”

“Yeah…” In his eyes, you can observe how much love he has for you and how eager he is to know if this one dream will be a reality.

With his free hand, he grabs yours and places soft pecks on your knuckles. 

“Are you okay?” He once again speaks, now making sure you are alright. 

“More than okay.” 

He gives your knuckles one last kiss before he lets out a breathy laugh, shaking his head while doing so.

“A penny for your thoughts?” You ask.

“Nothing…” He shakes his head once again. “It's just that… I may have some dad jokes already prepared.”

“Shut up, Leon.”

You couldn’t wait to know if your dreams were achieved by this act. You couldn’t wait to see if your life could get even better than this. And especially, you couldn’t wait to experience being a family.

💬 shadesoflsk: Comments, reblogs and likes are very much appreciated.

[gasstationlady]

the start of something beautiful | a lando norris social media au

pairing: lando norris x private!reader (fc: tyla)

lando is spotted with an unknown woman, and everyone thinks she’s another fling. however, later revealed as naomi campbell’s daughter, lando's fans slowly start to love her despite her tendency to be private.

notes: btw, i’m so sorry i’ve been mia for a while! honestly, i have a ton of drafts i’ve written over the time i didn’t post, but i lowkey hate all of them lmao. anyways, hope you enjoy this fluff :)

disclaimer: swearing. photos not mine. OLD PIC OF JAZ AND ROSS (yes it’s a warning bc i’m still mourning that relationship, and ik i’m not the only one). there are a few mistakes in the tweets that i was too lazy to fix lol. also, i hope the flow doesn’t feel too rushed!

masterlist

yourusername

liked by landonorris, yourbestie and 138 others

yourusername 🌸

View all 10 comments

yourbestie 👀

↳ yourusername 🙈

yourbestie framing these pics brb 😍😍

f1gossip

2,993 likes

f1gossip We received these photos of Lando and a girl today! It looks like the same girl he has been spotted with for the past 3 months, but it’s still unclear who it is. ☕️

View all 202 comments

user three months of them being pictured AND YET NONE CLEARLY CAPTURE HER FACE. that’s some bs

↳ user no deadass bc you guys had one job 🙄

user lmaoooo i know the delulu fans are crying that she’s still here

user Are we sure it's the same girl? Lmfao even if it is, he's probably going to get tired of her soon!

user god i hope people learn and treat her better than how they treated luisinha

landonorris

liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc and 759,301 others

landonorris First time trying wakeboarding 🤙

View all 1,401 comments

user happy lando >>>

user Where’s your girlfriend

user not the red bull life vest lmfaoo

user lando rlly said here’s some shirtless pics to distract u

↳ user frrr but like it’s not working 😭

f1gossip

12,321 likes

f1gossip Naomi Campbell and daughter, Y/N Campbell, making an appearance at today’s GP! It's presumed that Y/N is dating Mclaren driver, Lando Norris. Our sources in the paddock mentions that the two visited the Mercedes, Ferrari, and Mclaren garages before the race. 👀

View all 188 comments

user i'm literally in love w her she's soo beautiful 😍

user this actually makes sense that they knew each other since naomi has been connected to f1 for a while now

user I would be unstoppable if I looked like her.

user she looks so kind 🥺🥺

user oh the things i would do to reincarnate as a wealthy person’s child

user i was there and got to meet her and i’d just like to say that i’d go to war for her

landoupdates

7,626 likes

landoupdates Max, Lando, and Y/N (seen in second photo, far right) with fans at an after party! We received these pictures a few minutes ago, and the fan included “Y/N mostly stood behind as Max and Lando were asked for photos but she was so so kind !! Although you can tell she likes to keep to herself, she told me she thought my dress was cute and even got Lando’s attention for me so I could ask for a picture 😭 Also, he kept holding her hand !!!”

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user her face card is insane.

user now that we know she's naomi's daughter, i can't believe we didn't see it before LOL

user “he kept holding her hand” 😭😭😭😭😭

user I have never wanted someone to go off private so bad 😩

user honestly she’s my new fav wag

user it’s the way everyone loves her rn lmaoooo

user LANDO CAN YOU FIGHT

f1gossip

11,234 likes

f1gossip Lando, Ginge, and Ethan possibly alluding to Lando’s new relationship with Y/N in the recent Quadrant video 👀👀

See all 239 comments

user not them clowning him 😭

user i mean we all know by now that they’re together but this was the cherry on top

user melting over how he couldn’t stop smiling 🥹

user the fact that he kept this clip in 😩😩

user I AM ONCE AGAIN ASKING “LANDO CAN YOU FIGHT”

user I get it 😭 I also wouldn’t be able to hide that I’m dating Y/N

user perfect example of private but not a secret, in love with them 🥹🥹

landoupdates

5,389 likes

landoupdates A few photos of Lando and Y/N at the paddock today ☺️

See all 195 comments

user literally my fav couple

user when is he gonna make it officially on insta

↳ user My thoughts exactly!! 😭���� I know not everything has to be posted, but I’m just excited to see him officially announce it.

user my girl y/n looked so fucking good today

user i just want him to post her solely because i want more y/n pics

↳ user LOL you’re so real for that

landonorris

liked by yourusername, angryginge13, georgerussell63 and 1,221,334 others

landonorris We so good ❤️

View all 4,201 comments

user THE HAND PLACEMENT

user not tagging her is criminal 😭😭

↳ user girl what’s the point when she’s on private

user When will it be my turn 😩

user LANDO??? OMFG

user TURN IT UP IVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS ONE 😁😁😁🔊🔊

user omggg i can’t, they’re goals

user Y/N IS SO CUTE

user i luv my parents

[sweeterlovers]

Hello 💐🐇

Could I request a smau for ollie bearman with a famous actress and model who is the same age as him?

Sending you lots of love ♡

CHARMED / OLLIE BEARMAN

ollie bearman x actress reader / SMAU FIC

FACE CLAIM / none!

WARNINGS /

reader is in the cast of the summer i turned pretty!

-

INSTAGRAM

liked by lola.tung, madelyncline, and 235,752 others

yourusername a little break before we go back to the set!! 🐚🤍🪷🥥🫶🏻

view all comments

user1 season 3 👏👏👏

madisonbaileybabe cuties ❤️❤️❤️

yourusername ahhh!! i love youuu

user043 i can’t wait for the new season!!!

user555 soft launch! soft launch! soft launch!

user48 i’m curious 🧐

user213 season 3 can’t come fast enough

user666 do you have a boyfriend?? 👀👀👀

yourusername maybeeee!!!!!! hehehe

user69 you can’t just say that and walk away 😭

yourusername i’ll give you a hint! he’s an athlete

user7 we lost her to an ATHLETE 😷😷😭😭

-

INSTAGRAM

liked by thesummeriturnedpretty, nynarain, and 234,578 others

yourusername FIRST DAY BACK ON SET!!! and

@/gavincasalegno ate all of my gummy worms :( 🎉🎉🎉

view all comments

user65 the crew is all back together !!!!!

user2 gavin is guilty ✊✊✊

lola.tung #JUSTICEFORYN 👩‍⚖️😔

yourusername #CANCELGAVIN

gavincasalegno I PAID YOU BACK?????? stop trying to cancel me✋ haters are going to hate

chrisbriney_ are you trying to get yourself killed? you know how serious she is about her gummy worms

yourusername SEE chris gets it!! this is why i’m team conrad

user77 the drama is getting good 🍿👀

user5 team jelly girlies unite ^^^^

user66 nahh team connie baby all the way 💋💋

user1186 living for the chaos

user11 while all of y’all are on the gimmie worm fiasco i’m still wondering who yn’s boyfriend is??

user2 where are the insta stalkers when u need them🙄

user33 literally! she said he’s an athlete and they are both the same age so he is 19 years old

user8 how the hell are there 19 year old athletes

-

INSTAGRAM

liked by yourusername, ferraridriveracademy, and 127,783 others

olliebearman well needed rest ❤️

view all comments

user1 ollie what

user45 WAIT A MINUTE

user5 SHARE WITH THE CLASS

user85 ok so hear me out….. ollie is dating @/yourusername

user0 um sure yeah

user85 IM NOT CRAZY ✋✋✋✋✋ it makes sense!! she said she was dating an athlete who’s the same age as her and ollie and yn are both 19!!!!

user6 ok the dots are connecting buttttttttttt idk

user792 ollie has a gf 🧐🧐🧐

kimi.antonelli 👍👍👍

olliebearman 👌👌👌

-

INSTAGRAM

liked by olliebearman, madisonbaileybabe, and 236,893 others

yourusername life is better when i’m with you @/olliebearman 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻 also you guys figured it out :)

view all comments

user09 cutie pies

user7 🥰 aw

user85 I WAS SO RIGHT!!! HAHAHAH i’m a genius!

user6 yes yes you were

user85 apology letter asap plss

user0642 ok calm down now

user3 😍😍😍😍😍

olliebearman i love you baby 🤍

yourusername i love you too pookie bear 🎀🎀

olliebearman i thought we talked about this…?

yourusername about what 😅

olliebearman about calling me pookie bear

yourusername ohh yeahhhh hahahahahahaa your just so pookie bear okay ! let me be 🥰🫶🏻

olliebearman ok baby whatever you say

user723 i love themmm

-

TEAM RADIO / SWEETERLOVERS - this request has been in my drafts for a while 😭 sorry for being so late to respond but hope you guys like it!

[chiliyue-archived]

cause i love to love, to love, to love you

↬ in which you have him all lovesick and smiles

includes; dazai, chūya, atsushi, fyodor

notes; i am gonna pretend i didn’t disappear for 2-3 months. this has been in my drafts for so long :( i tried to clean it up as much as i could but it’s really old jfjdks

DAZAI

dazai appears happy. present tense.

his typical inquiries for double suicides came to lessen to conscious degree, substituting in drinking sake together when the sun cowers, nothing but a string of nonsensical chatter proceeding each sip.

he was sticky like that: unannounced visits, impromptu phone calls, sudden changes in his schedule to accommodate yours. in any case, he isn’t one to shy from stooping as low as whining if it rewards him with your familiar face.

( his windpipes splinter before he could mutter it out loud, but the solitude that’s wedged deep in his bones for so long felt lighter when you were near. he questions how long such benevolence would last before becoming sullied by his hand… ).

…and yet all things considered, it hasn’t deterred him from courting you nonetheless. at times he can’t help but think he’s taken a bite of his own medicine when he’s the one skipping around like a helpless maiden.

and yet again in spite of it all, his brazenness remains perpetually untouched as ever. he entertains different approaches if only to coax out a new reaction from you and he’s not bashful in the slightest. so much so, he remains unruffled even under the scrutiny of your coworkers.

. . .

“ this is highly unprofessional.”

“ don’t be so mean, bella. don’t you know how much i missed you?”

your eyes flit down to the man currently using your lap as a headrest, the rest of his body stretching over the expanse of the couch. he was shameless, that much was certain, but his ability to remain unperturbed whilst in his lovey dovey state was impressive. you cocked a brow, sighing.

“ osamu.” his lips visually twitched at the call of his name; it’s a word warm on your tongue but leaves the hairs on his nape at your mercy anyway. " you saw me fifteen minutes ago—”

“ twenty.” he corrected, cheeky (and quite frankly, you wouldn’t be surprised if he pulled that number out his ass). “ but it was the longest twenty minutes of my life.”

he was unrepentant as ever, experimentally positioning his head to rest on the plush on your thighs. by muscle memory, he began to absently draw shapes wherever he could reach, a crude rendition of stars decorating over the bend of your knee.

he smiles innocently when you squint at him, the gleam in his eyes unwavering. “ only a couple more minutes and i would have been yours,” you mutter out, your voice not as sturdy as you hoped. “ at home.”

dazai almost turns pouty at that. almost. “ but my love, i’ve missed you like crazy. twenty minutes is too long, how can i possibly manage?” the words come out through a breathy exhale and you watch as his lashes kiss his cheeks when he flutters them closed. “ all i could think about is you. and now i have you right here.” he hopes his words carry as much truth as the way his heart does, scurrying away the cold that's mocked him for so long. “ can’t we just stay like this a little longer? pretty please?”

resigned to your fate, you could only clamor your palms over your features— if only to salvage your waning dignity from your coworkers.

unfortunate though… that in doing so you miss the blissful smile curling on his lips as he peeks at you from below. and atsushi notes(after throughly grimacing, not expecting him to be so blunt), it reaches his eyes too.

CHŪYA

" chūya-"

" you can't flirt with me. i have a partner."

terse, stubborn and slurred. if the groggy voice wasn’t enough to confirm your suspicions, the shit-face look belonging to your boyfriend did. he was drunk. wasted if you were to speak bluntly.

in truth, it really doesn’t come off as much of a surprise; his ability to hold his liquor was nothing to brag of (despite what he may profusely argue) and you’re half-convinced he’s already forgotten his own name.

still, you don’t loosen your grip on his sleeve even under the figurative holes he’s burned with his stare. “ chūya. i am your partner.”

“you—! wha-!” his voice erupts into a sudden warble, eyes akin to saucers. " you… you are??"

he takes what’s left of his thinning rationality to study you proper; the style of your hair, your clothing, the smell of perfume/cologne, the familiar quirk of your lips—

oh, he thinks as you push back the loose bangs veiling his face. he doesn’t make any attempts to move, feet stalled and eyes blinking, evidently stunned.

you decide to press on. “ do i look familiar now…?” the lilit of your voice grazes against his ear, plucking out a faint memory tucked somewhere in the crevice of his fuzzy head.

oh. he thinks twice, the stern look bruising his face thawing.

without realizing it, he squares his shoulders in any attempt to remedy his current disheveled appearance, slumped posture pulled taut in— what he hopes— was a more put together frame. conversely, he wobbles on his feet when you continue to eat away at the distance, the ghost of your touch pushing pinpricks into his skin.

“ you’re- you’re really all mine…?” he cringes as soon as it leaves his mouth, coming off eager and hopeful. something like a laugh escapes you and he can’t tell if that’s what made his stomach turn or the alcohol. perhaps both.

“ that’s what i’ve been trying to tell you. you’re so stubborn when you’re drunk.” you punctuate the words with a kiss to his cheek, now warm with revelation. chūya, exhausting the last bits of his energy, shrinks beneath it, a gloved hand clutching his reddened face defensively.

“ why haven’t i made you my spouse yet?” he remarks it so suddenly, you nearly choke on air. he can’t even comprehend what you say thereafter or register the look beginning to contort your features, nothing but liquid courage keeping him afloat.

but- well, if there’s anything the haze trotting his head and his thinning cognition could agree on, it’s that your ring finger appears a little too barren for his liking.

( but not for much longer, he hopes )

ATSUSHI

the sudden change in atsushi’s behavior was a notable observation within the ADA, many of whom watched as the weretiger became stupefied by a face belonging to you. it wasn’t long before concluding it was all the result of a crush; the culprit of which being atsushi himself who played his hand poorly at discretion.

the lovesick chatter would leave his mouth without much rationality, waxing of "[name] this" or "[name] that," and effectively becoming on the receiving end of his praises. it was almost a routine of sorts, occupied by stutters, belated responses and his fidgety footfalls. by the end of it, he fruitlessly attempts to steady his rabbiting heart— if only to stop his blush from staining beyond his cheeks.

even now as he silhouettes by the agency door, the rattle of rain is deafened by the rush of blood to his ears. he anxiously worries the handle of the umbrella in his palms, bouncing from one sole of his feet to the other. should he just ask you? maybe he should wait… now that he thinks about it would be more appropriate to just leav—

“ damn it.” he perks at your sound of displeasure, his heart spiking. “ so much for leaving in a hurry…” you stiffen, realizing you have nothing but a coat protect you from the weather. the flimsy jacket you hurriedly plucked from your wardrobe only added flavor to your disappointment.

atsushi doesn’t miss the opportunity; his feet carries him to you before the unpleasant voice lurking deep in his subconscious bullies him otherwise. “ we can share,” he gestures to his own, silently praying his voice was leveled. it wobbles anyway and by now his knuckles are sheen white as a product of his nerves.

with the organ jumping around in his chest, he almost doesn’t register your ‘thank you,’ only that his fingers were quickly undoing the straps of the umbrella before you could change your mind ( he impulsively bought it earlier that day— his previous pair worned out and far too tiny for two people. but when you thank him with a kind smile, hands slightly brushing with each step, he argues it was the best 800 yen he’s ever spent ).

… that said, a more appropriate question is how you managed to remain naive to all his pining for so long— he’s become despairingly obvious against his own good and yet he can’t find it in himself to change himself, a perpetual lovesick look copy and pasted whenever you entered his proximity.

the same can't be said to everyone else however and he wasn’t particularly pleased when he caught wind of the bets exchanged among his treacherous colleagues. he fears it's only a matter of time before one of them blabs their tongue to you. at this rate, perhaps one of them should.

. . .

" y'know atsushi," ranpo once said, offering his companion a gleaming simper. " you reallllyyy talk about [name] a lot."

"oh.”

his heart flutters, eyes slowly blinking.

" yeah,” he smiles. “ i guess i do.”

FYODOR

" you've been awfully quiet, my dear." fyodor’s voice was just loud enough over the sound of clashing cutlery, fixing you a gaze of genuine interest. " is the meal not to your liking?"

you feel your lips twist into a frown. for being attentive, he (for once) falsely saunters pass the source of your displeasure, failing to recognize the extent of your internal woes. " no- no-" you fidget with your fingers, ignoring the way your propped elbows skidded against the table. the behaviour doesn't go unnoticed by the former, who takes it upon himself to hook his index fingers with yours. “ there’s something i’ve been meaning to ask of you. a… request of sorts.”

“ what is it? i’ll have it shipped to you by the end of the week,” he offers generously though it quickly fades into a confused hum when you shake your head at the proposition.

" it isn’t something you can buy…” you drop your gaze from him to the scantly poked portions of cuisine on your plate. fearing he may misinterpret your words and assume it to be unattainable - perhaps gifting you something ludicrous as a piece of land - you amended quickly. " it’s not what you assume to be either.”

at that, he bums questioningly. “ then what displeases you, my darling?” he provides a faint squeeze to your hand, igniting something warm and paradoxical to his thin layer of frigid skin. “ what can i offer to rid you that frown?”

" just your company.”

" my company?"

" yes." perplexed, he cocks his head; an invitation. willing an inhale to your lungs, you took a moment to gather possession of your words. “ these days you've been rather occupied. i was hoping for perhaps… if we may spend some time together?"

fyodor appears vaguely surprised by that, something unfamiliar fortifying around him. requesting his time felt like a hefty expenditure just in itself and it wasn’t too far fetched to assume he’ll disregard it in favor of some plot embellishing deep within his brain. but a swift refusal never comes.

“ i see,” he finally says after a brief pause. his voice was so soft you wondered if it was meant for you to hear.

it's grows quiet before he speaks again, the fingers curled around your hand withdrawing but not before providing the tips a delicate squeeze. " i can arrange some time tomorrow for you,” he proffers. “ will that satisfy your request, myshka?"

hardly anything can catch fyodor off guard, but something had to be said in the way you brightened at the suggestion, a deep curve coasting over your lips. how pleasant you are.

" yes," you hastily replied, dipping your head slightly. " more than perfect. thank you."

the way your lineaments crossed into a smile was always enduring to observe — exasperated, but one he wouldn’t mind seeing tomorrow knowing he was the cause for such elation.

( idly, he wonders what he can do to see it again ).

A/N !

i’ve been meaning to post this for months but it’s so old & i never quite (and still kinda don’t) liked it :(( fyodor’s is bit ooc jfjdkskla

彡 [BSD m.list]

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