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wri0thesley · 1 day

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eyes - neuvillette x reader (8.5k)

you have always known, one day, you would be married off to someone not of your choosing. but you certainly never expected it to be the iudex himself.

cw: not sfw text. explicitly chubby virgin reader, some insecurity, arranged marriage. double dick neuvillette, cunnilingus, bathing together. reader is afab but referred to with neutral pronouns.

this was a commissioned work.

There are certain standards one must follow as a child of Fontainian society; certain things that are expected of you. A certain way to speak and move and act - a set of rules that have been laid out clearly for you since the day you were born. You will know which fork to use at which mealtime. You will know the difference between what is appropriate to wear to a matinee and to an evening show. You will trust your elders to guide you, and you will be grateful for the life that they have oh-so-painstakingly laid out.

So you are not surprised when your mother tells you that you are to be wed.

You have even been expecting it. Since you became of a marriageable age, you have looked at all of the other children of society and wondered what kind of match your family might make. One of your own generation? Older, perhaps - more secure in their wealth and their status and position? You have even laughed about it with your friends, when you were out of earshot of all of your elders - discussing who would be the worst options, gossiping about who has had who over for tea recently.

She’s surprisingly tight-lipped about who you’re going to wed, too. That’s not unexpected either, though it does make anxiety roil hot and sour in your gut. Plenty of children have run away from home so as not to be wed to somebody decades and decades their senior, or somebody with a reputation for cruelty - or sometimes even because the match that has been made has not taken into account a love affair unbeknownst to the elders of the family.

You have no such love affair to romantically dash off into the sunset with; you have been a good and dutiful child your whole life. And though you do, perhaps, wish that you could know what it was like to have a love so fiery and passionate you would disobey the only life you’ve ever known . . . you have come to accept that will not be your lot in life.

You have even worried once or twice that somebody, upon finding that they were engaged to you, might wish to run away. You have looked in the mirror and scrutinised your face, your posture, your body - a body that has fallen out of fashion recently, the beauty ideal in Fontaine being very much ‘look as much like Lady Furina as possible’. It is your body, though - and it has stood you in good stead, and the night in which you are finally to meet your betrothed your mother and your maid stand in your bedroom looking approvingly at how your gown falls over the soft peaks and curves of your hips and chest.

All you know about this person who you are to be wedded to is that every time your family talks of them, they can barely hide the smiles on their faces and the superior lilt to their tone. Whatever match has been made for you . . . they are utterly ecstatic about it.

“I think he’ll be more than pleased,” your mother says, tugging at a fold of fabric - she had chosen to have this dress made in pale blue, though it is not a colour that has been in your wardrobe before. A man, then; a well-placed man who makes your family giddy with excitement - a man partial to the colour blue and a spouse whose figure runs more to curves than lines.

It is not a lot to go on.

So you do not know what to expect, as you are brought down the stairs and into the dining room. All kinds of thoughts dance through your head; some pleasant, some . . . not so. You know that you will meekly accept what you have been given, the way you have been brought up to do - and it is not lost on you that the trajectory of tonight will perhaps influence your life for years and years to come. There is always the chance that, seeing you in person, your parent’s intended will reject you--

Your mind is churning at a hundred thoughts a minute as you step inside the dining room - but when you see who is seated at the head of the table, all of those thoughts seem to clatter to the ground at once.

It is a wonder that your mouth does not drop open.

In all of the time you have spent gossiping about possible matches in society, nobody has ever mentioned - even off-handedly - the possibility that the Chief Justice of Fontaine may be looking to marry.

But there sits Monsieur Neuvillette - a little awkward, yes (he is being chattered to most insistently by your father), but straight and tall and handsome in his chair, his robes of office perfectly pressed, his face schooled carefully into a polite look of vague interest. Your mother coughs, and he looks up--

And his eyes, the colour of the evening sky or a perfect sapphire, widen just a touch. His mouth opens, the barest amount - and you swear that as his gaze sweeps over your form in your carefully chosen blue dress (a choice you are beginning to understand), he visibly swallows.

“Ah,” he says, and he stands - walking towards you, bending and inclining his head. “It’s a pleasure to . . . finally meet you in person.” You’re still rather stunned speechless by everything that is happening - you cannot help but feel as though things are happening around you, and not to you - but as Neuvillette uses one of his gloved hands to take yours and to press a lingering kiss on your palm that makes your entire body feel as though it is on fire, you are suddenly all too aware of just what is going on. “You look radiant tonight.”

“M-Monsieur,” you say in return, and you sweep what must be the clumsiest curtsey of your life. “I . . . I have to admit that this is a surprise.”

“Not an unwelcome one,” your mother puts in before he can respond. “Of course, we’re delighted with this match, and we’re absolutely sure you’ll be delighted with them--”

“I understand,” Neuvillette says, his eyes not leaving you. “If I may be frank with you, until recently I had never thought to marry.”

Questions rise in your throat. If he had not thought to marry, why was he doing it now? And why you, when surely he must see the upper echelons of society every single day? What had brought him to your family’s door, asking after your hand over everyone else he must have had first pick of? But these are not polite questions for the dinner table, when your mother and your father are already ushering the two of you to your seats beside one another and beaming so brightly that it hurts to look at them.

The dinner table is a place for light, polite conversation; the last opera you saw, the weather. Neuvillette smiles into his wine glass - a glass you notice is filled with water - when you mention that it has not seemed to rain much recently. You notice him looking at you every so often, over rims of glasses and delicate bites of foods . . . but you know that you, too, cannot help but sneak a glance at the Iudex of Fontaine seated by your side.

Your future husband! Your betrothed! The man you will spend the rest of your life with!

As much as you may wish for a moment alone with him, you know it is not proper; so when he stands and kisses your hand again and your father takes Neuvillette into his study to hash out some further details of your impending nuptials, you swallow your disappointment and remind yourself that you will have years with Neuvillette, to learn his secrets - to discover why he has decided to take you as a spouse.

There is little time for getting to know one another beyond the most surface of levels when a marriage has been arranged for you - there is even littler time when the man you are going to marry is one of the most powerful and busiest men in Fontaine. Even the few times you see each other as the wedding looms closer - the period your parents optimistically refer to as ‘courting’ - there is little time to get to know his heart.

You realise, at the final fitting for your wedding clothes, that the first time you will be truly alone with the man who is to be your husband will be the night of your wedding.

And that particular thought . . .

You know the ways of the world. You know what will be expected of you, in order to properly consummate a marriage - you know that you will be intimate with Neuvillette for years to come. But the idea that the first time that the two of you will be able to snatch time with one another with no parents or gossip-mongers or anybody else around will also be the time in which you and he will legally become one (and you know, from experience at the Opera Epiclese, that Neuvillette is nothing if not a stickler for the law) . . . oh, it is enough to make you reconsider one last time running away from your responsibilities.

“Mother?” You ask, your voice quiet, the night before your wedding. You have spent the entire day overseeing flowers and being asked questions, watching the cooks and the waiters bring in fine delicacies from all over Teyvat (Neuvillette had not wanted hosting duties; you get the impression that as long as the ceremony was done legally, he would be pleased enough to call you his spouse. But your parents have been preparing for this your whole life, so they had indeed wanted the spectacle of their child marrying the most powerful man in Fontaine. With no family to speak of, he had acquiesced to their desires. Your parents are in shivers of delight that Lady Furina will, too, grace the halls of your family home). “What if . . . what if I do not please him?”

You are sitting before your dressing table, in your sleeping robe, haunted by thoughts of all of the things that could go wrong whilst your mother double checks your wedding gown and the jewellery you are to wear tomorrow. She looks over at you - her face is normally hard, but as she sees the knit of your brow and the bite of your teeth into your lip, she sighs softly.

“You have nothing to worry about,” she says, stroking your cheek. “The Iudex asked for you specifically.” You blink at her, wide-eyed, and she laughs a soft little laugh. “Don’t let it get to your head, now; they have been badgering him to marry for some time . . . but he did ask for you, out of all of the people he could have had. So take heart in that. Do you think him a foolish man?”

“No,” you shake your head, your voice a soft whisper. You suppose that Neuvillette is many things, but ‘foolish’ would not be one that would cross your mind.

“There. You and he are going to have a happy life together.” A sly look steals over her face. “Ah . . . are you worried about the wedding night itself?”

“Mama!”

“It’s something we all go through, my dear.” She catches your chin in her hand and smiles at you, and for a moment, despite all of the times you have disliked her for the life you have been forced into . . . you are reminded that she is your mother, and she wants this to work just as much as you do. “Do not be frightened of him. Do not be overwhelmed by him. He has chosen you to be his equal, but he will not expect too much of you. I promise . . . everything is going to be fine.” She gives you a wink. “And if I were you, and were to marry a man who looked like the Chief Justice - why, I’d be positively thrilling with excitement at the thought of my wedding night!”

“Mama!” This time, your scandalised tone brings her out in peals of laughter, and she kisses the top of your head as she leaves the bedroom. The door clicks behind her.

Your final night in your childhood room; your final night unmarried. One last slumber amongst your own silken pillows and sheets (what kind of bed, you wonder, does the Chief Justice sleep in?).

That night, you dream of a sea that churns with a similar anxiety to the one that you feel in your own belly.

The morning of your wedding day, it is raining. Your family fuss over it, but as you stand at your window with people running all about you, messing with your hair and rearranging your dress and having arguments about your bouquet, you cannot help but find it comforting to watch the rain fall in droplets, stopping and starting again, mirroring your own still-nervous heart.

You think you will falter at the last hurdle, as you stand outside of the Opera Epiclese - normally a place of theatricals, but also a place of the law, and the place that the most important part of your wedding day will occur - and take a deep breath ready to start your new life. The bouquet in your hands is full of rainbow roses and romaritime flowers, bursting with colour; you are grateful to have it to hold on to, as the doors are thrown open and you walk slowly down the aisle of the theatre.

Your eyes desperately seek out someone who will provide you an ounce of comfort in the crowd, all peering at you curiously to see the person who has finally tamed the Chief Justice. This is a spectacle as much as a wedding, you suppose; and as you see some people whisper behind their hands, you wonder if you have been found wanting. You bite your lip hard to stop yourself crying - and then, onstage, his hands clasped over his cane, your gaze finds Neuvillette himself.

The patter of the rain on the roof of the Opera stops all at once. For a moment, you swear everything falls silent, as you and he look at each other.

Slowly, his mouth breaks into a small, secret smile, and the buzz of whispering intensifies - but that smile is enough to steady you. To remind you he has been nothing but kind and polite. To whisper to you that perhaps this union is a thing to look forward to, and not to be feared.

He looks as handsome as ever; his suit perfectly-pressed, his hair streaming in a neat silver white tail behind him. There are flowers that have been braided into it; and you see, as you ascend the stairs to the stage, that there are a group of Melusines sitting in the front rows with matching little bouquets of Lumidouce bells grasped in their little hands, beaming up at the Iudex.

Lady Furina presides over the proceedings, tossing her hair and preening and holding the audience in the palm of her hand - another reminder that theatrics are more respected than the law in a land like Fontaine. But you cannot bring yourself to mind too much - not when Neuvillette’s smile is steady, his eyes trained on you the whole time. Not when, as he repeats the words in a clear voice like a ringing bell, he whispers them again as if they are only for you. Not when he takes his bare hands - ungloved, for the exchange of the rings - and holds your own, soft and round and dimpled, as he slides the ring onto your finger as if you are the most delicate thing in the world.

When Furina - with more glee in her voice than you would have expected - announces that he may now kiss you, you feel your shoulders draw up in anxiety. The entire audience goes quiet, waiting with baited breath for this - as if it is one of the things they have been waiting for all day. Neuvillette, though, keeps his gaze on you. He acts as though there are not a thousand Fontainian citizens watching your every move - slowly, he places his arm around your waist and draws you closer to him, so close that the crowds seem to melt away and there is nobody but the two of you.

“You look beautiful, by the way,” he murmurs into your ear, angling his head so that the crowd cannot see that he has said something that is only for the two of you (no doubt they would be baying to be privy to the marriage bed, if they thought they could get away with it) - and then, his lips brush against yours. They are cool and soft; the lightest tang of sea-salt remains on your own after he is done. The crowd roars with their approval as he steps back and bows to you, pressing his forehead to the back of your hand - and you stand there, trembling, excited and nervous and frightened and on display all at once, as your new husband takes you by the hand and gently, gently leads you back down one of the aisles of the opera, out to the waiting carriages to spirit you away from the spectacle of the opera house and into the spectacle that your parents have designed as a celebration.

As it turns out, it is not so bad. Your parents have understood, at the very least, that the two of you will be retiring early to Neuvillette’s residence (your trunks already packed, already loaded onto a carriage to be delivered in the next few days). They have managed to rein themselves in; only invite the most important echelons of society to this celebration, despite the luxury and the excess that has been coming into the house for weeks now.

So you bow to Lady Furina and accept her compliments with a stutter and hot cheeks, Neuvillette by your side, his steadying hand on your waist. Neuvillette expertly manages to weave around your family’s ballroom as if he has been doing it all his life - but then, remembering how much older he is than you, you suppose that he has been doing it at least as long as you have been alive. He has a remarkable way of remaining polite, yet not brokering too much room for small talk and gossip, as if he can tell that this kind of thing is not your favourite.

You overhear, when you have been spirited away from your husband’s side for ten minutes by some of your friends, an older couple accosting Neuvillette.

“You had all of the choice in the world,” the man says, poking Neuvillette in the centre of his chest - from the slur in his words, you think he may have partaken in a touch too much of your parent’s imported dandelion wine. “Whyever did you make this one?”

Your heart stutters in your chest; a trickle of sweat rolls down the back of your wedding gown. This is what you have been fearful of, this whole time - you being found wanting, you being seen as not good enough for Neuvillette--

But your new husband merely smiles.

“I have eyes,” he says, mildly, and he turns away from the couple and brings an end to the conversation that you know must leave them utterly blistering. He comes to find you, instead - apologising most profusely to your friends for having to steal you away.

You stay for as short a time as you can manage, with the congratulations and the toasts and the speeches (a Melusine or two makes a speech for Neuvillette; you much prefer their simple honesty to some of the awful gushing things that come from the mouths of connections of your parents who have never given much care to you before), with the cake being cut--

“Here,” Neuvillette murmurs, and your cheeks go hot as he feeds you a bite of his own slice from the same fork he has been using. “I must confess that this is rather too sweet for me.”

By the time that Neuvillette begins to make his excuses, bowing and smiling and thanking his hosts and the guests, the moon is already hanging white and plump in the black velvet of the night - and as you say goodbye to your parents, your Mama gives you a wink that makes you go hot all over.

Neuvillette’s residence is surprisingly unassuming; it is smaller than your parents house, and he does not employ half as many maids or staff. For a moment, his gaze flitters over to you, and you sense a nervousness in the air.

“I am sorry if it is not what you were expecting,” he says, voice clipped - but you shake your head, and try and let some of the anxiety drain from your tight shoulders.

“It’s lovely,” you say, firmly, as he helps you out of the carriage. This time, when his gloved hand - he has chosen to put his gloves back on, his wedding ring glinting over the black satin - touches your waist, you gasp. The frisson of promise that runs through the touch makes you feel dizzy with possibility. Neuvillette looks at you with those dark sapphire eyes of his, and murmurs;

“I apologise if you’re nervous. I have no wish to . . . make you do anything you don’t want to. I am more than willing to wait-- the law does not require we consummate directly on our wedding night, and if you are frightened--”

A drop of rain lands on your cheek.

“No,” you breathe out, all in a rush, surprised to find it falling from your lips as you say it. But then you think of his lingering kiss, of the way he shut down that couple at the wedding reception, of that private smile he had given you to soothe your fears as you walked down the aisle, and you’re even more surprised to find that you mean it. “Not at all. I-- I am nervous, but . . .”

He gives you another soft, gentle smile that makes your heart feel ready to burst out of your chest. The raindrop you had felt has no companions; simply a freak occurrence in the weather.

“I must admit,” he murmurs, as he helps you towards his front door. “I am very pleased to hear that. I hope you won’t find it remiss of me to admit that I have been . . . rather looking forward to it.”

Your cheeks go hot again. The idea of Neuvillette, imagining you like that, even waiting for it . . . it is hard not to find it at once flattering and embarrassing. Neuvillette opens the door for you, but as you go to step inside--

“Ah, just a moment--” He leans his cane against the front door, and reaches for you. “I’m aware there’s a custom about bringing one’s new spouse over the threshold, and I would hate to break tradition--”

“You don’t have to,” you say, stuttering on the words. “I’m not light--”

But Neuvillette has already reached for you, already wrapped a surprisingly strong arm about your waist - and before you know it, as if he hasn’t needed to exert any energy at all, you have been pulled into his hold, held like a princess being rescued by a knight.

You look up at him, and he looks down at you, his smile soft once more.

“You feel perfectly light in my arms,” he tells you, as he steps over the threshold with you and gently places you down as softly and carefully as he had picked you up. You were not expecting the strength from him - he wears his robes of office, of course, and he certainly has the height, but there’s a kind of willowiness about him that does not exactly betray him being able to do such a thing.

(If he can do that, a wicked little voice in your head whispers, imagine what else he could do to you - how easily he could manipulate you in a more intimate moment--)

It’s almost as if he can read your mind. He laughs a clear, silvery laugh like the rushing of a river.

“Shall I show you to our bedchambers?” He asks you. “I’m sure you’ll want to get all of your finery off soon; it looks rather heavy. If you are not opposed . . . perhaps we may bathe together?”

Your heart, beating double time in your chest. Neuvillette’s eyes, cool and calm. The way your blood seems to sing in your veins. You smile back at him.

“I would like that very much.”

Neuvillette’s house may not be as extravagant as expected, but the bathroom more than makes up for it - and most of all, the bathtub set into the floor, as wide as a swimming pool. He sees your look of surprise and laughs, sounding for once a little embarrassed.

“I enjoy being able to relax in water - natural water most of all,” he tells you, “but it would be rather . . . scandalous, if an ordinary citizen were to find me unexpectedly. This is my compromise. One of my vices, you may say.”

As vices go, it is a tame one, and you look at the bathtub - already full of clear water, so you can see the mosaic tiles on the bottom (the tub itself is stepped, so one can simply sit and relax at one end or perhaps even use the other end to swim a few strokes).

“I loved to swim when I was little,” you say, wistfully. “As I got older, my parents thought the idea of me wearing my swim clothes too often was improper, but . . .”

“Well,” Neuvillette says, placing his hands upon your hips with only the lightest of pressure as if he is still too afraid to touch you too much. “You are welcome to use this bathroom for swimming whenever you wish. It is not quite the same, of course, but I want nothing more than you to be happy here. What’s mine is yours now, sweet one.”

It’s the first pet name he has used for you, and it makes your mouth go dry. Slowly, you turn towards him. You are about to be naked together, you suppose - even if you are going to bathe before anything more intimate happens - so you ought to be braver. You reach for his face, palms warm on his cheeks - and though his eyes flash in surprise, he gladly leans in to let you kiss him.

This time, you let the kiss linger for longer; this private moment in the sanctity of a home that is to be shared between you. He sighs into your mouth and pulls you closer himself, so as you cradle his face his palms rest upon the ample curve of your hip. His teeth tug, almost shyly, at your bottom lip - and you feel your lashes flutter, your heart give an answering skip in your chest. His tongue traces the seam of your mouth and you part your lips, allowing him to take you as he wants - but even this ‘taking’ is done slowly, carefully, like a man who wishes to savour you.

You pull back, your breath coming in soft little gasps - Neuvillette’s eyes are half-lidded, but it does not stop him smiling at you, putting you at ease.

“We ought to disrobe,” he tells you, kindly - and he gently motions for you to turn, so that he may work at the difficult laces and hooks of your bridal outfit. You feel a little shy, as the fabric pools around your ankles, and you are left bare - but then he is turning you around, and in his eyes you see something that must be close to worship.

“I am a man who says what I mean,” he tells you, tilting your chin upward toward him. “I have not spared your ego, little one - everything I see before me is . . .” He shakes his head, letting loose a ragged breath, more undone than you’ve seen him before. “More than I could ever have asked for.” One gloved finger trails across your lips, tracing a patch from the corner of your mouth down to your throat, your collarbone - reaching behind you to unclip your undergarments, so they fall to the ground with your gown. “You’re truly the loveliest creature.”

“I--”

He shakes his head, smiling still.

“Perhaps in my choice of a spouse,” he murmurs, “I let my own desires overtake me a touch . . . but ah, if you could see yourself the way I see you--”

You hesitantly hook your thumbs into your underwear and stand before him, naked completely - and you win, for your bravery, another ragged breath.

“I must warn you,” Neuvillette murmurs, as he reaches for his own collar and begins to unbutton, to untie, to work the trappings of his own outfit off of himself. “You may be . . . surprised.”

“By what?” You feel brave enough to give him a little smile, though your heart is still beating faster than you’ve ever felt it. “Am I to discover you have been hiding extra limbs?”

Neuvillette’s gaze does not falter.

“Something like that,” he agrees, mildly, as he slips his shirt and coat from his shoulders. His skin is milky pale in the moonlight streaming in from a window set high in the wall, his hair glimmering silver. He takes your breath away.

Who would have thought you would ever find yourself in this position with the Chief Justice of Fontaine?

He unbuttons his placket slowly - and as he carefully works down the fabric of his trousers, you realise exactly what it was he was warning you about.

“I hope I do not disappoint you,” he says, as your mouth falls open at the sight of his cocks; resting one atop another, both half-swollen already. Your mouth goes dry at the thought of your wedding night, still to come. “I assure you, I know exactly what to do with them.”

“I--I didn’t mean to--!” Your voice comes out a little panicked - but then, Neuvillette lets out a soft huff of laughter.

“It’s quite alright,” he tells you. “But I will reiterate; I will not hurt you. You are . . . more than welcome to touch. But if we do not get in soon, I fear the water will have gone cold.”

Neuvillette helps you into the bath, surprisingly unashamed of his own nakedness. At the press of his body against yours as he helps you down the steps inlaid into the tub, you feel his cocks jump against you, the wet smear of something against the dip of your back - but then, Neuvillette is lowering himself into the water beside you and letting loose a sigh of pure bliss that sends a coil of heat spiralling to between your thighs.

You have never partaken in the gossip that surrounds Neuvillette, about his pointed ears or his inhumanly lovely face or his age - you would never have expected what he is hiding in his trousers. But as you sit beside your new husband, you cannot help but feel as though it makes perfect sense - a man like him could not be ordinary. And you trust him when he tells you he will not hurt you; when he says he knows what he’s doing, you think of all of the time he has on you and you have to suppress a shiver of desire for what he may have to teach you.

He touches you, as the two of you bathe together. Lets his fingers massage the shampoo into your hair, lets his hands slide the washcloth over the contours of your body until you can barely breathe for the hot trails of fire that he leaves in his wake. You do not think he means to inflame you so - but then, he allows you to do the same thing to him, and he shudders and leans back into your touch, a soft noise almost like a purr falling from the back of his throat, and he realises exactly what bathing together is doing to you both.

Still. The two of you linger there; touching one another. Getting to know one another’s bodies without any fear, for beneath the water all is muffled and calm. His fingers learn the shape of your nipples when he pinches them, how they pucker and harden beneath him. His palms learn the weight of your breasts, heavy and ample in his hands. His mouth learns the taste of your shoulders, as he drops hot, wet kisses across the span of them, the nape of your neck. And in return you feel the silkiness of his hair, the softness of his skin, the feel of his corded muscle beneath his deceptively slender frame.

By the time the two of you are wrapped in fluffy towels the colour of an early morning sky, you are both hot with want. Neuvillette’s twin cocks seem to pulse with his desire; you can no longer tell if you are slick and wet from the bath or from the space between your thighs. You shyly look at one another through lowered lashes, though, as the wedding night and all it entails comes closer and closer and closer.

“It’s a beautiful night,” you say to him, when the two of you have finally entered the bedroom. Neuvillette’s window is open a crack, enough so that the lacy curtains flutter in the light night-time breeze. “You would hardly think it’s been raining on and off all day.”

“Mmm,” Neuvillette agrees, as you feel him come up behind you. He slowly takes your hands, encouraging you to drop the towel; and then you stand before him, naked again, but with something far more than a bath in your future. He leans in and presses a kiss to the sensitive place where your neck and shoulder meet, just barely grazing it with surprisingly sharp teeth. “I should not wonder if it doesn’t rain again for some time.”

Neuvillette leads you to the bed, his hand firmly around yours. He is unerringly gentle and patient with you, as he urges you to sit upon the bedcovers - and your breath catches when you do as he asks, and instead of joining you he sinks onto his knees. You have never thought to imagine the Chief Justice kneeling before you, and the sight of it makes you buzz all over in anticipation. He smiles at your unsurety - and leans in, pressing a kiss to your knee, gently urging you to spread your thighs for him. His gloves are stripped away, but his wedding ring gleams on his finger as his fingers sink into the soft, full skin of your thigh.

He leans in, pressing another kiss to the side of your knee. Higher, higher, higher he trails them - and his breath fans cool against your heated core, and your fingers clench into the bedsheets in surprise at what he might be about to do.

“Don’t be afraid,” he murmurs to you, his cheek pressing silky against your skin, as he suckles a love-bite into the part where your leg meets your pelvis. “I merely want to ensure you’re adequately prepared.”

“Y-you don’t need to,” you say, breathless, hot, embarrassed and needy all at once. This is an act of such intimacy, you do not know how to parse the thought of the Iudex doing it to you - but he gives you a smile that is not without a hint of fang, the wickedest look you have seen upon his face so far, and he reaches between the two of you to use his thumb to pull apart the lips of your sex so you are revealed to him.

“Oh,” he breathes. “But I want to, sweet one. And . . . looking at how wet you are for me, I daresay you want me to do so too.”

“M-Monsieur--”

“Neuvillette,” he murmurs, and he presses a kiss directly onto your sex, slick and wet with your own excitement, his nose brushing across the swollen nub of your clit. “Use my name.”

“Neuvillette--” It comes out rather thin and reedy, but Neuvillette does not seem to notice - instead, he seems rather preoccupied by what lies between your thighs. Your fingers tighten when you feel his tongue slide across you, gathering your slick upon the tip. There’s a strange quality to it, almost as if it is longer and firmer than a human tongue ought to be - and as he flickers his tip over your clit, again and again and again, and you shudder from the sensations he draws forth . . . you wonder if, too, his tongue is forked--

Thoughts quickly dissipate from your head when there is a man knelt between your thighs, though, and it is no different for you. The wondering is quickly chased away by the hungry way that Neuvillette laps at you, like a man who has been parched for water for months.

Through it, he urges you to part your thighs as wide as you can, so that he can more thoroughly attack you with his tongue - and with every stroke, with every suck and lick and groan of him against you, you feel a knot tighten in your stomach in a way you have never experienced. It is like his mouth is a match, setting fire to your core - despite how you can feel wetness dripping down you, onto his bedcovers, surely soaking his chin and his lips.

He does something with his tongue - a twirl, a flourish - and his name comes spilling out of your lips like a prayer, and the idea that he may at some point stop using his mouth on you flashes across your synapses like a tragedy. Without realising you’re doing it, you move one hand to grip his silvery hair, to keep him anchored against you - you realise, too, that it is not merely his name spilling out of you like an overturned wineglass. Pleas and whimpers and begging have joined the fray, and you would ordinarily cringe at being thought so wanting. But with Neuvillette’s mouth, with the promise of what he is trying to wring from you--

Shame seems unimportant compared to the way he shudders at your hand in his hair, the way his tongue intensifies flicking against your clit.

He pulls back, breathing heavy, mouth glittering with your slick.

“I’m going to put a finger inside you,” he tells you, and you are grateful that he too sounds a little breathless. You cannot imagine just how embarrassing it would be to be the only one falling apart.

“I want . . . you,” you say, not without a touch of petulance, and Neuvillette lets out a hoarse little laugh. Still kneeling before you, he reaches up to touch your warmed face - his thumb, too, glitters with your arousal from the way he had held you open. You cannot bring yourself to care when he softly smears it across your bottom lip like an offering, and he lets out a shuddering groan at the sight of your tongue swiping it off.

“I want you,” he says. “Oh, you have no idea how much I want you. But I will not hurt you, sweet one. Let me prepare you.”

It feels very much like him; this way of taking charge, his firm words. This time, his hand curves up your inner thigh, and your breath catches as his finger slides between the valley of your sex, wetting itself in your slick and his saliva. Your toes curl into his plush carpet as he nudges your clit with his fingertip, as a soft noise of surprise escapes your mouth and he chuckles.

He slides one finger inside of you with no resistance at all. His earlier ministrations have seen to that. It’s a strange sensation, to have something inside that is not one of your own fingers (rather smaller, rather shorter than his) - but it is hardly unwelcome. You whisper out his name, your eyes closing, and Neuvillette makes a gentle noise of encouragement.

“That’s right,” he murmurs to you, as he slowly begins to pump his finger in and out of you. “You’re doing so well - you’re taking it beautifully. I’m going to put a second one in--”

He does exactly as he says, and the hand still knit in his hair tugs at the silvery strands a little harder. It is not that it is painful, but simply that it is a stretch you are unused to - and one, too, that you know will continue to intensify.

You feel a strange, cool shock at the entrance to your sex - and you chance a glance down and realise it is his wedding ring, pressing against you. The sight and the knowledge makes you shudder, and Neuvillette huffs out a noise of want in return.

You think of the cocks, straining beneath the vee of Neuvillette’s pelvis. You cannot see them now, but from the way they had looked when the two of you were just bathing, you feel certain they must be swollen stiff and hard, waiting for their own chance (and too, from the spots of colour on Neuvillette’s cheeks, the way his words have a strange, dry edge to them when he speaks). How will he put those inside of you? One at a time? Both at once?

“What are you thinking about?” Neuvillette asks, raising his gaze to meet your own, a smile tugging at the corners of the lips. “You suddenly tightened around me.”

“I--!” Your cheeks go hot, embarrassment making warmth seep down your back. Neuvillette laughs.

“No need to keep secrets,” he murmurs, slowly establishing another rhythm, a slow pump of his two fingers inside of you, scissoring slightly to open you up. “We are married now, sweet one. We can share everything. Mmm . . . let me see. Were you imagining my fingers to be my cock?”

“Neuvillette--” Your voice is a weak little protest, and you avert your gaze shyly even as you force the words out. “I was . . . will you put them both inside of me?” Your gaze slips over his face again, nervous to see his reaction - his eyes widen in surprise, but it is not at all a look of anger.

“Not tonight,” he tells you, and he smiles again. “I fear it may be too much for you. Ah, but if that’s what you want . . . my dear, I know you’d feel exquisite.”

His fingers, pumping in and out, curling inside of you. His words, velvet-draped and deep - the look of concentration on his face, insistent on nothing more than drawing pleasure forward from you. You feel the hot tension inside of you reach a breaking point - a pot, ready to bubble over.

“I must confess,” he breathes, leaning in, breath hitting your sex hot and close. “I was worried you might be afraid. I’m terribly glad to know what an effect the idea has on you.”

As he finishes the sentence, he lets his tongue drag out one slow, final lap of your clit - and it is just enough to push you over the final edge. The bubbling pot within you reaches boiling point - and the most intense pleasure you’ve ever felt, like molten heat, suffuses you entirely. Your head falls back. A noise of sheer enjoyment falls wanton from your lips - your thighs and your hips and your entire body trembles and shakes in the pleasure, and you feel your sex pulsating and throbbing around the two of Neuvillette’s fingers that are inside of you.

“Lovely,” Neuvillette murmurs, watching you in awe, his fingers slowing down as he lets you ride out the waves of your orgasm. “Oh, you’re . . . exquisite.”

“Neuvillette,” you say, collapsing back onto the bed, your breath coming in harsh pants. “I was afraid, at first. But I don’t think I could be. Not knowing what you’re like now. Not anymore.”

“Sweet thing.” Neuvillette stands. He steps forward and you see him again - his cocks are indeed straining, silvery precome dripping from the dual tips and smeared over the flat planes of his stomach. “You have no idea what you do to me. May I . . . ?”

He does not need to ask. You think you would grant him whatever he asked for - you cannot imagine Neuvillette overstepping your boundaries, when he has been so sweet and so careful and so guiding for as long as you’ve known him, even knowing he could do whatever he wanted to you and nobody would blame him. But it warms your heart that he asks even so.

“Please do,” you breathe, and you spread your thighs wider to accommodate him on the bed.

His hands scoop under your hips, his palms firm on your ass as he moves you higher up the bed, ensuring that your head and shoulders are propped up with a mound of pillows. Even with his cocks practically twitching, he prioritises you before himself, and you cannot resist another show of appreciation, wrapping your hand around his neck and pulling him down into a kiss.

He groans into your mouth, the movement clearly welcome - but when he mouths at you now, he is far messier than he has been before, his teeth just a little more present. You think he must be losing some of his control, and as his cocks nudge against your inner thighs, you are proved correct.

“I’m sorry,” he breathes against your lips, pulling back just far enough to be able to speak. “I cannot hold myself back a moment longer--”

“Please, Neuvillette,” you whisper, fingers still in his hair.

His lower cock nudges against your sex, the ring of muscle that will grant him entrance - and as he opens you up, his second cock rubs over the swollen over-sensitive nub of your clit and you whine.

He covers your whine with another kiss. He eases into you, moment by moment, inch by inch - you have nothing to compare it to, but you think from the slow tempo he goes at and the way his gaze keeps flicking over you, checking you’re alright, he must be larger than average.

But he has prepared you well. The stretch is an ache, but a pleasant one - it does not send painful shockwaves all through you. Your thighs wrap around his hips, pulling him as close as you can manage, and Neuvillette sighs.

“Will you kiss me again?” He murmurs, so softly you almost do not hear him. The request makes your heart feel like bursting in your chest - the soft way he looks at you, his unwillingness to pull away from you, his desire to be as close to you as he can even when he is buried inside of you.

You do. Arms wrap around his shoulders. His hands find purchase on your hips. His mouth and yours dance against one another - his tongue learning yours as if he is learning a new language.

He fucks you like that.

He is not rough with you, that first night; he does not, as you have heard so many new husbands do, take you and have you and ignore what you might want. Neuvillette cherishes you.

The slow rock of his hips, indulgent in their rhythm. The way he kisses you. He is chasing his own release, but he does not feel any need to fuck into you with abandon. At least not yet.

But time ticks on. The two of you seem to meld into one entity, and the kissing and the fucking grows sharper at the edges. You feel that Neuvillette is hovering on something, his expression almost desperate, as he rearranges the angle of his hips and the speed of his thrusts.

“Please,” he whispers, broken-voiced. “I’m close--”

You let go of him and he lets out a noise of distress at the lack of contact, a noise that makes you shiver with the idea of how much power you may one day have over him. But instead of anything else, one of your hands darts between you, to take a firm grip on his second cock. Neuvillette hisses through his teeth at your hand, hot and firm.

You do not know what you’re doing, not really, but that does not seem to bother Neuvillette as he increases the speed of his hips. In fact, he does most of the work - fucking his lower cock inside of you, hot and deep and wet, and fucking the cock atop it into your fist. You manage to work out a kind of twisting motion that makes him growl in the back of his throat--

It’s a fascinating noise, really. It makes you think of him as an animal, something feral and possessive - and you wonder what, later on, you may learn about him--

But then your name is falling from his lips like a prayer, and his cock is twitching inside of you and in your grip, and your back arches at the same time as he leans forward and sinks his teeth into your shoulder--

(Almost like a claiming bite. Almost like a mark to say that you are his).

And both of you come, together, in great waves and pants and gasps of breath. His come paints your fist and the round softness of your stomach at the same time as it paints inside of you, your body once more pulsating around his cock as if it never wants to let you go.

Like a tide on the shore; like a moon rising high over the lakes of Fontaine. Neuvillette lets himself lay atop of you, his head against your heart, his breath coming in great heaves.

You do not need to think this time; you simply lift your unsoiled hand and begin to stroke the silver of his hair in slow, careful motions. From the back of his throat again comes that noise, something like a purr and something like a chirrup. His eyes close contentedly.

“Neuvillette?” You whisper into the darkness, and your husband makes a soft ‘mm?’ of response. “You really . . . could have had anyone. Why did you choose me?”

“Hmm, sweet one?” He lifts his head from your chest and looks down at you like you have asked him why the sky is blue. “Didn’t you hear me earlier? I certainly did have my pick . . . I perhaps wouldn’t have chosen to marry if Lady Furina hadn’t been so insistent, but I was lucky enough to be able to choose anybody I wanted. And I had seen you.” He shakes his head, a huff of laughter falling from his mouth. “Like I said - I do have eyes.”

Your cheeks feel hot. The thought of being coveted by Monsieur Neuvillette, when you had worried about your body and your match and your future so often it felt like second nature--

“Oh dear,” he says, looking down at the two of you - at the sweat-slicked hair, at the come drying on your inner thigh. “I fear we’ll need to have another bath before bed.”

“And you won’t mind if I join you?”

He chuckles.

“Why,” he says. “I’d be offended if you didn’t.”

#neuvillette x reader #neuvillette smut #writing #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact smut #chubby reader #not sfw text #commissioned work #chubby reader posting

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dearlyjun · 2 days

Text

CALL OUT MY NAME ☆ c. seungcheol

☆ PAIRING: slightly possessive boyfriend!cheol x reader (f)

☆ GENRE: NSFW (18+ readers only!!)

☆ SUMMARY: your ex boyfriend can’t seem to stop texting you lately; wouldn’t want to make your current boyfriend angry would you?

☆ WORD COUNT: about 1.8k

☆ WARNINGS: cheol is possessive in a protective way, mentions of an ex boyfriend that won't leave you alone, ex boyfriend is min yoongi, cheol has a deep voice, mentions of cheol working out, cheol is tatted, he wants to fight her battles for her (king), unprotected sex, different sex positions (cowgirl, kneeling missionary), semi voyeurism, clitoral stimulation, spanking (like once), cumshot, foul language, cheolie is very sweet at the end!! lmk if i missed anything!!

☆ AUTHORS NOTE: posting this in honor of @miupow’s birthday!! happy birthday, lia!! you’re one of my dearest friends (and moots) on here. im so glad we met!! and also shout out to lia for beta-ing her own bday fic and correcting my half asleep writing. yeah even i don’t know what was going on there.

BE ADDED TO MY TAGLIST HERE!

You were setting a bowl of food and a glass of iced tea down on your kitchen island, when your laptop started ringing.

“Ah, Cheol, give me a minute!” You spoke out loud to yourself, quickly grabbing a fork before tapping your keyboard to accept the video call coming through.

“Hi, Cheolie.” You greeted in a sing-songy voice as he -was filled up your screen with a smile on his face.

Your boyfriend was in Japan on a business trip for a few days; scheduled to come home tomorrow. You both made it a routine to have dinner together every night over video calls.

“You look pretty.” He answered, his gaze never leaving you.

You giggled at his compliment. “You see me everyday.”

Seungcheol smirked. “And? You’re always pretty.” He motioned at your bowl that was in the camera frame. “What’s for dinner today?”

“Oh, um, spicy pork bibimbap. You know; my favorite. What are you having?”

Seungcheol pointed to some things on the table he was sitting at. “Tuna and rice with some spicy sauce and vegetables, and chicken.” He let out a laugh. “Kind of boring.”

You smiled at him before taking a bite of your food. “Did you go to the gym today? I saw the workout notification on my watch.” You referenced your activity sharing feature on your Apple Watch.

“Yeah, of course the last day I'm here I find this really nice gym.” Seungcheol rolled his eyes and took a bite of his food before speaking again. “I was so excited that I actually almost did a 400 pound deadlift.”

“Oh my god…” You were just as excited for your boyfriend’s gym achievements as he was.

“Hang on, I think I took some pictures.” He picked up his phone and was scrolling through some pictures. “Yeah, see?” Seungcheol turned his phone screen towards his computer so that you could see. He scrolled through pictures of the scenery of the gym, and some pictures in the mirror.

“I like that one.” You suddenly spoke up with a smirk on your face.

“Which one?” Seungcheol questioned before looking at his phone to see the one of him completely shirtless In the mirror, showing off his back that was beautifully adorned with muscles and his tattoo that you loved so much. “Oh with the tattoo?” He smirked, knowing fully well how much you liked it.

“Yeah.” You smirked, cheeks flushing like this was the first time you saw him. Seungcheol always seemed to have that effect on you.

“I didn’t go to the gym today, I went shopping instead.” You slightly laughed.

“Yeah, I saw the Amex notification.”Seungcheol joked, setting his phone back down. “Buy anything nice?”

You gasped, dramatically covering your face. “See! That's why I don’t like using it all of the time.” Seungcheol always let you use his credit card to treat yourself however you pleased, and sometimes you would buy clothing pieces that he’d like on you. Unfortunately, the notifications always went to his phone.

Seungcheol looked at his phone again, laughing at your dramatics. “It’s not like it shows me what you bought. It just tells me the store.”

“Well you’ll be home by evening tomorrow, right?” You questioned. “I’ll show you then. It’s–“

Your voice trailed off as suddenly a notification of a text message popped up at the top of your laptop screen. It was your ex boyfriend, Min Yoongi. For some reason he has been non stop bothering you lately; asking how you’ve been, if he can “catch up” with you. You ignored every one of his advances thus far, but you hadn’t said anything to Seungcheol.

“What’s wrong?” Seungcheol instantly noticed the change in your tone and expression. “You got so quiet all of a sudden.”

You sighed. “Cheolie, I hate you fighting my battles for me.”

“It’s my job.” Seungcheol quickly retorted. “What’s going on?”

“My ex boyfriend. Do you remember Yoongi?” Seungcheol nodded. “For some reason he’s been trying to get a hold of me; texting me like he wants something between us again.”

Seungcheol got closer to his computer, the tone in his voice suddenly deepening. “Show me the texts.”

You picked up your phone, showing him the screen of multiple texts to all of which you did not respond to.

“And you didn’t respond?” He questioned, reading the texts on your phone as you swiped through.

“No, I haven’t responded to any of them.” You answered.

“Okay.” Seungcheol spoke, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms in front of himself. “I can’t get an earlier flight out. But If this happens again, I’m dealing with him.”

“Yeah, fuck yourself on my cock just like that baby.” Seungcheol sighed, looking down at his lap to where his cock was disappearing inside of your wet cunt. “Fucking use it.”

Seungcheol brushed your hair off of your shoulders for access to your collarbones; sucking and biting at your skin. You whimpered In response, combing your fingers through his dark hair and giving it a slight tug. That only egged him on more; letting out a low grunt.

Seungcheol gripped onto your hips, angling them forwards so that when you slammed down onto him, his cockhead would be hitting a different spot.

“Cheol! Fuck!” You cried out, reaching to hold onto Seungcheol’s sturdy frame before falling into his chest.

“Yeah, gonna fucking cum?” Seungcheol’s grip moved to your thighs as you whimpered; your face buried in the crook of his neck. “Look at me, look at me.”

You pulled yourself up, still using him for stability. You couldn’t fight your orgasm right now if you tried to.

Until your phone starts ringing, lost somewhere in the tangled bed sheets.

You jump, clearly startled by the ringtone playing at almost full volume.

“The fuck….?” Seungcheol muttered, eyes fixated on his wet cock disappearing in between your legs.

“Ignore it.” You hissed, lifting yourself up off of him enough so just the tip was inside of you, only to slowly sink back down to feel every inch of Seungcheol’s cock.

Seungcheol knew that was on purpose, yet he still let out one of the hottest moans to ever come out of his mouth.

“Give me that fucking phone.” Seungcheol spat, putting one arm around you to keep you in place as he rummaged around the sheets to his right.

He managed to find it despite your whining, looking to see that the screen read a phone number across it and not any caller ID.

Seungcheol shot you a glance before swiping the green icon at the bottom of the screen to pick up the call. He then put it on speaker phone.

“Who is this?” The tone in his voice was deep and oddly steady considering that you were still perched up on his lap with his cock inside of you.

“Y/N?” The voice on the other side of the phone said your name, startling you. You froze. It was Min Yoongi of all people that could be calling you.

You saw Seungcheol’s jaw clench as he heard another man say your name, but with his free hand he still gave your ass a light smack to keep moving.

“Why are you calling my girlfriend’s phone? I know who this is.” Seungcheol used his free hand to pinch one of your nipples between your fingers, making you whimper.

“I just wanted to talk…” Yoongi’s voice trailed off and you didn’t know what he said only because Seungcheol whispered to you to lie down onto your back.

You followed directions, wincing at the empty feeling between your legs when you were on your back. Seungcheol immediately pushed your knees towards your shoulders and kneeled in front of you, aligning his cock with your entrance once again.

“We can talk.” Seungcheol spoke to the phone while he was teasing your folds with the tip of his cock. You grabbed a hold the comforter with your left hand, desperate for something to hold onto.

“Cheol, fucking put it in. Please.” You whined loud enough to be heard through the phone. Seungcheol had a satisfied look on his face, nodding as he finally pushed himself inside of you slowly enough so you felt everything; all of him.

You threw your head back; arching your back against the bed. Seungcheol put his hand onto your stomach to keep you still, then moved it down slightly to stimulate your clit with his thumb. Letting out a strained moan, you nearly wanted to scream.

“Awful quiet there, Yoongi. That’s your name right?” Seungcheol’s voice was so deep that your core clenched around him tight. “What happened to talking?” You were sure that the noises of his cock sliding in and out of you could be heard on the phone by now.

“I mean, obviously I’m a bit busy right now.”

“Cheol!” Your voice startled even you. Not quite a scream, but more like a whiny moan. Seungcheol’s body was quickly against yours within mere seconds; with his weight pressing into you.

“Mhm, call out my fucking name baby.” Seungcheol’s lips ghosted over yours as he lightly kissed you, then he found your right hand that was gripping onto the comforter and laced his fingers with yours. “Let him and everyone else hear it.”

The call either dropped or your phone died because it was silent, but neither of you were paying any attention.

“Cheol! fuck!” You swore, and just like that you were cumming all over his cock; shaking as he kissed you sweetly all over your face.

Seungcheol was on the brink of cumming, and you could tell. So naturally, you used his weakness to your advantage. He always gave in when you begged him to cum inside of you; he’d never tell you no.

“Cheolie, cum in me….please.” You gripped onto his thick arms as he supported himself above you; following your words exactly as his breathing became unsteady.

“Shit…fuck.” Seungcheol panted, dropping his head and making his hair fall into his face. You couldn’t help but let out a whimper at the feeling of him finishing inside of you.

The two of you were silent, and Seungcheol adjusted himself to not drop his entire weight onto you.

“I’m sorry, cheolie.” You muttered, running your fingers through his now messy hair.

He quickly had a concerned look on his face. “For what, princess? You didn’t do anything.”

You slightly laughed at the situation. “My ex is calling me, literally while we’re having sex.”

Seungcheol was smirking. “Yeah, but he’ll probably never call again.” He grabbed your hand, kissed the back of it, then kissed your face. “He should know that you’re mine.”

☆ TAGS: @lavnderwonu @dokyeomkyeom @https-yeonjun

#seventeen smut #choi seungcheol smut #s coups smut #seungcheol x reader #seventeen x reader #s coups x reader

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propertyofwicked · 19 hours

Text

YOUR NECKLACE - LN

no warnings just fluff + some SMAU <3 (one mention of sick, no specific detail)

-> lemme know ur thoughts! my inbox is open!! <3

masterlist the playlist

after successfully keeping their relationship secret for 9 months, lando truly believed it was time for him to properly introduce his girlfriend to the world of motorsport. she’d attended races before but always under general admission, usually alone, but sometimes accompanied by the likes of max and p. and it wasn’t as if the fans didn’t know who she was, they just knew her as ‘y/n who works with quadrant’, ‘y/n that reset the cones in the driving video’, ‘y/n that keeps her social media private’ - never once being considered lando’s girlfriend, which worked well for the two.

the panic had set in that morning as she dressed for the day, her hands constantly running over her outfit, checking the way she looked in the mirror from every angle - she wanted to believe that no one would care, or even notice that she was there, but deep down she knew that making the jump from general admission to paddock would gain some chatter on twitter.

“you look perfect,” lando had whispered in her ear from behind her, his hands wrapping around her waist as he tugged her away from the mirror.

“maybe they’ll just think im helping with a quadrant project,” she said absentmindedly, more trying to convince herself than actually respond to him.

“maybe,” he nodded along with her, mulling over his next words, “we can walk in separately if you want? they might not assume anything if they don’t see us together?”

“it’s not that i dont want us to be seen together,” she told him as she moved to the floor, tying her shoelaces up, “i just hate to think what’ll be said about me if they do.”

“i know, angel,” he reassured her, offering out a hand to pull her up, pressing a quick kiss to her forehead when she returned to his level.

the journey to the track was a quiet one, the two of them engaging in light conversation, eventually deciding they’d just walk in together, keep PDA to the minimum and ‘run and hide at the first sign of trouble’ y/n had joked.

lando paced up and down his drivers room, the sleeves of his racing overalls swinging with every step, from where they sat around his hips. he was getting into the right mindset, music playing, and yet his mind raced with every fear of the looming race.

“sit in the garage,” he asked her, halting his pacing to turn and face her.

“what?” she replied, half unsure she’d misheard him.

“watch from the garage - please,” he repeated moving to take steps towards her, noticing the way her fingers twisted at the rings that adorned them.

“are you sure?” she checked, as he grabbed her wrists to stop her anxious fiddling.

“never been more sure in my life,” he told her, using her arms to pull himself closer, joining the two of them in a sweet kiss.

“ok, ill be there,” y/n responded against him, parting only for a moment before connecting their lips again. the kiss was short and sweet, cut off by oscar knocking telling him it was time to go.

she stood in the garage, smiling at a few engineers she recognised before finding herself a seat. the nerves were washing over her again, but now they were for lando. y/n always worried during races, scared on his crashing, worried he wouldn’t perform as well as everyone knew he could. her hand reached up to her chest, instinctively searching for her necklace - lando had bought it for her before they were even together, knowing from the moment she smiled at it and looked up to thank him that this was it for him, she was his future. but the necklace wasn’t there, the girl panicked slightly, fearing she had lost it or it had fallen off before concluding that in her distraction this morning she had simply forgotten to put it on.

that’s ok, you’re a grown woman who can control her nerves. you don’t need a necklace to calm yourself down - you’re not even the one racing she told herself, letting out a deep sigh as she tried to believe herself. no one else in the garage seemed to notice her, a fact she was fairly happy about, hoping that the same would be said for the hundreds of news and tv stations priming their cameras for the race.

but someone had noticed her, recognising the look on her face as the same one she had been wearing all morning. only lando could decipher what her expression meant - she was nervous, of course, scared for him, but also filled with a small buzz of excitement - he couldn’t quite understand how one person could feel so much all at the same time, and not combust on the spot. nevertheless he jogged over to her.

“lando? aren’t you supposed to be like, getting your helmet on?” she asked him, shocked slightly at his sudden appearance. he looked at her, his hand tugging at the top of his fireproofs and pulling his own necklace from where it was trapped behind the fabric.

“forgot to take this off,” he told her, hands moving behind his neck to unclasp the metal, “will you look after it for me?”

she nodded up at him, her outstretched hands halted as he stood close, hands moving the metal around her own neck and clasping it. the metal dropped against her skin, the warmth from him wearing it transferring to her.

“thanks, love you,” he told her, a rushed kiss planted on her lips before he jogged away from her again.

his face carried a smirk as he left her, knowing he hadn’t truly forgotten to take the piece of jewellery off. in actual fact, he’d noticed her missing necklace the moment they’d arrived at the track and made it his mission to have his own hung around her neck, almost as a badge of honour. the two had agreed to keep their relationship private from the public, somewhat of a secret - but now she sat in his garage, wearing his necklace. it was the bare minimum display of the love they shared, but it was enough for him, and it was enough for her.

oscar quirked his eyebrow at his teammates smirk, receiving a quick tell you later before the two pulled their balaclavas down.

the gesture was so simply and so subtle and the girl was oblivious to the moment being caught on camera. the moment a yellow flag was called, the sky tv cameras filled the wait time by zooming in on the faces of loved ones sitting in each drivers garage. however, y/n remained oblivious to the lens focusing closely on her, the camera closely capturing the way she fiddled at the necklace before dropping it as normal lap conditions resumed.

"good day then?" y/n asked him softly, her head resting on his bare chest as she listened to his heart beat - lando felt the way her cool fingers fiddled with the necklace around his neck. that godforsaken necklace, quite frankly the only necklace to ever cause so much uproar online.

"soft launched on live tv and p3? i wouldn't have it any other way," lando replied softly, chucking lightly as his hand brushed through her hair.

“that checks out, mr nowins,” she teased, tilting her head to grin at him.

"being with you is a win in itself," he replied, taking the nickname in his stride.

"gross," the girl responded, pretending to vomit at his attempt at being cute.

“i am sorry though - i should’ve known that would happen, i should’ve checked with you before hanging the “lando’s girlfriend” sign around your neck,” he replied with a sigh, his head dropping to press a kiss to her forehead, his cheek resting on her head as they spoke.

“it’s ok lan, i knew there was a possibility of something like this happening,” she replied.

“and it was fairly subtle - we could probably play it off for a little longer,” lando suggested, knowing that neither of them were quite ready to expose the extent of their relationship just yet. at least this had given them the opportunity to be a little more careless with their efforts to hide from the public. they were private, not secret, and lando couldn’t be happier to preserve this part of his personal life for a little longer.

“im just glad we no longer have the responsibility of a big announcement,” she laughed, “god knows we’re both too lazy for that.”

“who’s we?” he grumbled jokingly, “im the one with the public account. besides, im more than hard launched on your page.”

“ah the joys of an ordinary life,” y/n joked, her arms stretching out in feigned bliss, “however i feel like i should steer clear of twitter for a while.”

“that’s probably for the best,” he agreed, his tone saddening slightly at the memory of things he’d seen posted about not only his ex girlfriend, but some of the claims people had already began making about the girl lying below him.

“hey!” she started noticing his change in mood, and pushing her body weight back to look at him, “none of that. today is a good day. trust me, ill take any excuse to get my screentime down.”

“i love you,” he told her, grabbing at her body to pull her back into his embrace, “more than you could imagine.”

liked by maxfewtrell, team_quadrant and 111,230 others

landonorris soft launching on live tv wasn't enough, time to promote her to the gram

comments on this post have been limited.

maxfewtrell so glad i dont have to worry about slipping up on stream anymore

-> maxfewtrell chat aren't ready for what i have to say.

maxfewtrell 2nd photo is a violationnn - ynpng, pietra.pilao u gonna let this slide?

-> ynpng am i fuck. pietra.pilao we ride at dawn.

-> pietra.pilao omw queen.

-> maxfewtrell run landonorris whilst u still can

-> pietra.pilao you told me you deleted that photo maxfewtrell - sleep with one eye open xx

ynpng hate u with every fibre of my being rn <3

-> landonorris nuh uh

-> ynpng gonna unprivate my acc and let the world see the video of you falling down the stairs

-> landonorris might accidentally leak the video of you and the shoe incident

-> ynpng you wouldn't dare.

-> landonorris you wanna bet?

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris smut #lando x reader #lando smut #lando norris imagine #lando norris fanfic #formula 1 #mclaren f1 #mclaren #lando norris fluff #propertyofwicked #maxfewtrell #fewtrell!sister #lando norris smau

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jiminiesfavouritecolourisblue · 1 day

Text

Our Little Love part eight - OT7 Mafia/Yandere au

Mr Kim has a chapter all to himself of 6.8K words, please enjoy and PLEASE let me know what you think. Trigger warnings: manipulation, coercion, corruption, interrogation, mentions of murder and other crimes, swearing, jealousy, possessive yandere behaviour, fingering, orgasm denial, mirror sex, light choking. I am awful with warnings, please forgive me.

Namjoon wasn’t all that impressed with seeing the Chief of police visiting his cell, the syndicate boss was dressed too well to belong there, it was almost an eyesore. A glance to the camera, the normal red blinking light absent tells him all he needs to know. There were no eyes or ears to this conversation.

“I thought I paid you to keep your men in line,” Namjoon says in lieu of greeting. “Was a bullet to the knee not warning enough for your dear Captain?”

“He wasn’t an issue when I spoke to him, the man was on leave!” the chief replied. “Your girl was the problem he-”

“Be very careful how you finish that sentence,” he advised with a deep angry rumble from his chest. “I am well aware who is at fault here, and regardless of what our little love does, she is never to blame.”

Chief Lee Soo-man only nods once, biting back his complaints.

“I asked you to sort out Kim Suho, I told you to keep him in check,” Namjoon growls. “Keeping your pockets full isn’t an act of charity Lee, it’s a purchase. I own you.”

“Yes sir,” he mumbles in response. “I assure you this arrest is just a formality, the case won’t stand once it’s revealed Detective L/n-”

The glare the man in the blazerless three piece suit gave him was enough to stop him in his tracks. Right, he couldn’t involve you in this, that was going to make things harder than they needed to be.

“What do you recommend then sir?” he asks when he finds his voice and wavering courage.

Namjoon sighs harshly, and the Chief swears he can almost see smoke.

“I want to be alone with my little love,” it’s not a request, the chief didn’t let the soft lilt of his fool him.

“I don’t know how that would be poss-”

“I want-” Namjoon cuts in, unable to bear another second of this blithering idiot, “her to be the one to interrogate me. And I can trust you understand the rest.”

“Y-yessssir,” he stutters, not completely hearing the words between the lines, and that was clear enough on his face.

“I want her alone, Sooman,” Namjoon repeats himself, if this were one of his men he would never have needed to. “I don’t want a single soul witness to what I’m going to do to her.”

—

Suho tugs you along by the arm, stumbling in his urgent pace, pulling you out of ear shot.

“We have a problem.”

“What problem?”

“I’m technically on health leave, brass says I can’t interrogate him,” he stares a hole into you as if his eyes were telling you the rest but you couldn’t understand.

“Okay so who’s replacing you?”

He huffs out a breath of air from his nose, knowing you weren’t going to like the command from way over his head.

Your heart beats hard in anticipation, why was he looking at you like that?

“As far as Brass are aware you were deep undercover,” Suho informs you slowly, deliberately, looking like he was about to tear your world to trash. He sighs, unable to get the words out.

“Suho what?”

“They want you to interrogate him,” he breathes, you think you’ve misheard him, but you know you haven’t.

Your world spins, you’re already shaking your head.

“I can’t,” you whisper, he knows full well that you can’t. “I resigned, I’m not a detective anymore.”

He sighs again, hesitation in his eyes.

“I never processed it,” he confesses.

“Y-you di-”

“I couldn’t, I knew you would see reason, I knew you would come back,” he doesn’t let you process the shock, explaining himself quickly.

“Suho I can’t I can’t,” you beg, the conviction you had to punish them now suddenly taking a back seat as fear overtakes you, “right now they believe I was deep undercover but he’s not going to let that-“

“Listen to me,” he interrupts you before you can fully submerge into a panic attack, taking your hand in his. “I’m going to be in the next room, as soon as he says anything that compromises you, I’ll turn off the cameras, okay?”

“But-“

You’re interrupted again when the door opens, both of you whipping your heads to see him being transferred by four officers to the interrogation room. His eyes find you, staring stoic holes into you before his gaze finds Suho’s hands comforting yours. The snarl of displeasure is brief but you definitely see it, and you can’t breathe.

Suho draws your attention back to him, tugging your hand softly.

“Do you trust me Y/n?” he implores you, eyes searching yours in a way that made Namjoon want to strangle him with the chains on his handcuffs. You look up at your Captain with such light in your eyes, a way you should never look at another man, and then you have the audacity to nod.

—

You’ve done this a hundred times, if not more. So why were you hesitating at the door? Your hand on the handle, all you had to do was turn it and face the music but you couldn’t even manage finding your breath.

Interrogation was a science, it was like riding a bike, you knew what you had to do, you had to command the room. It almost sounded like a joke, the worst one you’d ever heard. Command a room when Kim Namjoon was in it?

The thought makes you hyperventilate. No, it wasn’t going to be easy but you could control what you could. You borrowed clothes from an old colleague, a skirt and blouse, simple but professional. Suho’s old blazer too, as if layers would protect you. You had splashed water on your face in the bathroom, using makeup from evidence to make yourself look presentable, composed. Your impromptu freshening up had meant you left the syndicate leader waiting for a long time, and it absolutely 100% was not because you were trying to kill time, it was to make him stew in the room, a technique you had used multiple times prev- who were you trying to convince?

You needed to get this over with.

Your face is impassive when you finally open the door, his gaze is on you immediately and you can feel a certain type of guilt and shame try to seep its way into you, but you push it down far enough that you can pretend it’s not there.

“Mr Kim Namjoon,” you greet him stoically.

“Detective L/n,” he returns, playing along with a small smile, as if seeing an old acquaintance after a long time. The way he addressed you shouldn’t cut you, logically it made no sense not when you’re the one that got him in the box, but it did.

You approach the table he’s chained to, looking at the wood instead of his eyes as if he didn’t matter, or at least that’s how you wanted it perceived. Avoiding eye contact with the most dangerous man the whole country had ever come to know, meant you missed the way his stare moved to your clothes, particularly your blazer, recognising it was a man’s, and he could confidently guess exactly who it belonged to. Any friendliness on his face disappeared, he wanted to play games and now he just wanted to torture you a little, punish you for you actions. Patience, he tells himself, that would come later.

The file in your hands slaps the table as you throw it down, taking a seat opposite your boyfriend, a man you now convinced yourself you wanted behind bars.

What do they say about a woman scorned? Namjoon thinks to himself, admiring the fire he could see burning underneath your skin, and though he knew he would feel the burn, he would welcome it. It was no secret that he had a fantasy about you interrogating him, he introduced the role play to the bedroom soon after your return to them but it lacked the flames of heat he could feel today.

“Allow me to formally introduce myself,” you reply. “My name is detective Y/n L/n, I’ve been undercover at your… establishment for the past year and a half.”

“Is that right?” he barely suppressed his amusement but it didn’t phase you. Your professional head was on, this was just another criminal you had to put away, that was it.

You open the file, sliding out photos of him that you had sent in as intel in your early days undercover as well as surveillance photos that Suho had taken since you were MIA.

“Do you know who this man is Mr Kim,” you say, sliding the first of the photos to him.

“Can’t say I do detective,” he shrugs nonchalantly, not even glancing away from you.

“Do you want to try looking at his face first before you answer,” you insisted unimpressed.

He smiles, still staring at you.

“I don’t recognise him,” he repeats himself slowly.

“So this isn’t you in the photo?” You ask.

“I don’t know,” his grin only grows.

“This man, Jackson Wang, is dead, and the last person who saw him alive seems to have been you Mr Kim, at least based on the time stamp on this photo and the time of death from the post mortem.”

“Is that right,” he says again, sounding like a broken record. His eyes swim with admiration for you, you can see it though you can’t understand it at all with the current scene. Why wasn’t he fuming, why wasn’t he demanding an answer or explanation?

“Okay let's cut the crap since I know you’re far too clever for that Mr Kim,” you scoff with a roll of your eyes. “I have gathered evidence of your crimes from the last 18 months, and I will stand in court as a witness against you.”

“Are you allowed to do that little love?” he asks, the name has a pang of panic hit you, but you tell yourself you can explain it away to brass.

“The charges you're facing so far are murder, battery, and grand larceny to name a few,” you state ignoring him, flicking through the photos, throwing each one in front of him. “There are many more to follow.”

“I didn’t know partners could testify against each other,” he mused, smirk still strong on his face.

“I’m not your partner,” you object. “I was undercover.”

“No,” he contends, shaking his head like this was just a game to him. “You can’t fake a love like ours, heaven.”

You almost snort as if his point was ridiculous.

“I don’t think I could ever love someone like you Mr Kim,” your stare was ice cold, that finally wipes the smile off his face.

“You’re angry,” he states as if it was new information for you. “I get that little love, but this is a bit too much, don’t you think?”

“I think justice needs to be served, don't you?” you sneered. “People got hurt, some people died, someone needs to pay.”

“You and I both know they deserved it,” he declares as if there wasn’t a camera recording his confession. “You’re just angry because I stepped on a bug.”

Utter rage brewed like a storm in your chest, and you wanted the downpour to drown him.

“You sound like you’re ready to sign the confession Mr Kim,” you don’t break your stare. “That’s great, saves us a lot of time, thank you.”

You close the file, pushing the chair back to stand.

“I’m not done with you,” he growled.

“But I’m done with you.”

“Y/n sit,” he commands calmly, composing himself. “Throwing a fit isn’t going to fix things.”

“Throwing a fit?” The audacity of this man, you stand there in shock.

“Let’s talk it through,” he says to you as if you were being hysterical.

“Fuck you,” you spit.

“Talk to me Y/n,” he scolded you like you were a child. “Without this bullshit.”

“Fine! You wanna talk about it Namjoon,” you snapped, taking the seat again, throwing the file haphazardly on the desk. “Let’s talk about it.”

The glare you present him with doesn’t make him flinch, it doesn’t phase him. You hope Suho had enough sense to turn the cameras off by now, this would go nowhere.

“You manipulated me, you lied to me, you made me play the fool.”

He didn’t react, not a single muscle on his face moved and it fanned whatever flame explode inside of you like a bomb. This was his true colours underneath the mask of love and adoration he created for you.

“You don’t have to pretend anymore Namjoon I can see right through you,” you state. “And you are never touching me again.”

That made him look at you, really look at you, something shifted in his gaze, a slight smirk as if he was mocking you.

You could cry kick and scream about the injustice he put you through in the name of this fucked up love and he wouldn’t flinch. He would sit there and watch and then the fucker would have the audacity to laugh afterwards. He must’ve laughed at how stupid you were in trusting him when he lied.

“At least if you go to prison, I’ll finally be free,” you whisper like it’s a life line.

He’s still unmoved, sitting there as if you were invisible and it irked the fuck out of you. He was the one who wanted to talk, why the fuck was he silent now?

You wanted him to hurt you wanted him to feel an ounce of what you did in the light of his betrayal. He tore your heart out and you weren’t going to forgive him.

“I must’ve looked so pathetic,” you say in a self deprecating tone, looking at the ceiling as if someone could answer you. “Suho was right.”

That comment makes his blood boil hard enough to show on his face. There it was, the reaction you were waiting for and you took the bait without thinking about what you were trying to catch or what you were trapped with.

“I should’ve trusted him, he’s always had my back and my best interest at heart.”

His jaw clenches, a fist squeezing nothing but air although he probably wished it was the captain's neck.

“Kai and Suho are all I have left,” you goad him, unsure of what exactly it was that you wanted to prove. “And finally I’m back where I belong.”

“If you don’t want a bullet in each of their heads, you need to stop talking love,” he grunts through gritted teeth.

Something inside of you felt vindicated and you realise then what you wanted from him, proof he fucking cared, that you weren’t some pawn or prize in this game of crime. You wanted him to soothe the very cuts he caused, or rip your heart out hard enough that you could bleed him out of your system forever.

“Oh please Namjoon, just admit why you kept me around for so long,” you scoff. “I can only imagine how it felt to have the lead detective on your case in the palm of your hands, like a trophy, a big fuck you to the justice system.”

You laugh sounding a little maniacal.

“You had me, and I fell for all of it.”

“You’re forgetting I didn’t know your true origins at first little love,” his low voice is a warning, he looks at you like he needed to remind you who you belonged to.

“And you’re forgetting I know you,” you bite back. “Any hint of betrayal and you pull the trigger first and ask questions later.”

He stares at you, grimacing.

“And yet here I am, alive.”

“Because I love you,” he says it so casually it throws you off, like it was a fundamental part of his being, like breathing.

“Because you saw an opportunity,” you rationalise.

“Because I could never lose you,” he confesses. “You could rip out my heart, little love and I would still want you, why else would I be here?”

You frown, what did he mean? He was here because you paid an eye for an eye, you betrayed him.

“What’s done is done,” you say as if you were unconcerned. “I will testify against you.”

He leans closer across the table, words for your ears only.

“Do you think you’ll be able to handle seeing Jungkook in prison, love?” Namjoon whispers. “Knowing you put him there? It would kill you.”

The pain his words brought forth only proved them to be true. You did have a soft spot for the youngest, always had. You break eye contact first, looking down at the file and turning back and forth a page as if in contemplation but really to cool your nerves.

Were you really doing this? Sending Yoongi, Jin, Hoseok, Jimin, Tae and Kookie to jail because of an angry outburst? Now your emotions had time to settle after the bomb that exploded when you saw Suho; you weren’t so sure.

“I never thought you could betray us like this,” he says solemnly, continuing to manipulate your guilt, but he forgot about your fire. He could almost see the coals ignite in your eyes, a misstep on his part, one he realised when a snarl forms on your lips.

“You. Lied.” You state ferociously. “I asked you if you hurt him and you lied to me.”

“So you decided to have us all arrested,” he continues, “for a man you stated you didn’t care about like that.”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” you seethe, unable to sit with him any longer, pacing the room before you raised a finger to his face. “You played me like a fool Namjoon, and I refuse to play the part anymore.”

“I wanted him dead, little love,” he states in a low voice through gritted teeth. “Do you understand what a mercy-”

“I asked you not to hurt him!”

“Then you underestimated our wrath!” he retorted. “I couldn’t let him go in one piece, and you didn’t need to know.”

“No. You underestimated MY wrath Kim Namjoon!” You burst, slamming the desk with your hand, the sting burning, your face heating more and more with rage as it concealed your heartache. “I am not some docile doll for you to play with, and manipulate and LIE TO! You took my love for granted when it was a damn fucking privilege.”

Your chest heaves with each breath, he stayed composed while you looked like a wild animal finally let out of her cage.

“You think this obsession is love,” your voice broke at the last word, the floods of heartbreak dampening the fires. “And I did too, but it’s fucked up everything.”

His silence was eating you alive, his face giving nothing of his heart away while yours laid bare out between you.

“You know what I’m done,” you breathe, “have fun rotting in jail Namjoon.”

Tears drop out of the corner of your eyes as you walk away, his piercing gaze doing nothing to deter you. He might’ve had power over you once but that was before he betrayed you. You reach for the door handle, tugging, ready to leave him behind until his trial, but the door doesn’t budge. You still, mind blank for a second before panic overwhelms you. You try again with all your might, pulling as hard as you can over and over before releasing your grip with a harsh breath. You take a gulp, calming yourself, he planned this.

You’re not surprised when you hear the sound of the handcuffs undo or the chains hit the floor. Fucking bastard. An alarm started blaring in the building, loud and overwhelming, but it came too late. Red lights flash, the room glowing as if warning you about the oncoming danger.

“Are we done with your outburst little love,” he says coldly, like your grievances were nothing more than a tantrum.

You turn to face him slowly, more tears dropping without a sound, shaking your head at the way his words cut you down to nothing.

When he stands from the seat your heart gallops with fear and panic. Although it’s helpless you turn back to the door, trying with all your might to open it and escape him. The fire alarm blaring does nothing to ease you, you hang onto the door as you feel him approach, tears falling out of your eyes without control.

Fuck, you were stuck here with the man you sent to jail, you were left to his mercy. His presence looms over you, you can feel him a hair's width behind you, not touching you, not really, but he’s so close it’s overwhelming.

It’s when you feel his breath you freeze, your body shutting down with dread. He presses his cheek to your hair, inhaling you softly. The action makes you jolt away, turning to the side but he grabs your wrist tightly. You don’t look at him, you stare into the two way mirror, your cheeks pathetically wet. You were supposed to hold the power in this room, but you could feel it dwindle away to nothing but smoke.

You’re slammed against the door hard, a whimper escaping your lips as your eyes scrunched in pain. You miss the flash of guilt in his eyes, realising he pushed you too hard. An apology on his lips but the glare when your eyes open stops him. He’s seen anger in your eyes before, hate even, for he knew love didn’t come without it. But fear? Never of him, not even in the days when you were undercover and your life was one unveiled secret away from ending.

“Get away from me,” you seethe, meaning every word, even when you saw the hurt in his eyes.

Regret, Kim Namjoon never knew the feeling before, but he knew he never wanted you to look at him the way you were. He needed to keep his calm, one wrong push and you would tear him out of your own heart.

Your eyes fly all over the room, trying to piece together a way to gain some distance. Suho… maybe he was still behind the glass. You tug your wrist as hard as you can, taking steps away from him but his hold is relentless. The blare of the alarm stops ringing but the flashing red lights remain, staining the walls like blood pumping.

“Little lo-“ he starts to say with a sigh, he was being patient but there was only so much time left.

“Suho?” You call desperately trying to look through the glass. You know you’ve made a mistake before you even said his name but fear drives people to do stupid things without thinking.

The most notorious criminal in all of Seoul pulls you back against his chest hard. An arm wraps around your waist, the unforgiving grip on your wrist turning lethal. He rests his chin on your shoulder, staring at you through the mirror. The hairs on your skin stood on end at the frightening change in his eyes, danger rolled off of him and you had no choice but to take every wave.

“Do you think he’s there, love?” The corner of his lip lifts in a smirk that makes you think of a snake, the saccharine tone of his voice hypnotising. “Do you think he’s watching us?”

The palm on your hip moves down to your thigh, he squeezes the flesh. You could feel your heart jumping in your throat.

“Should we give him something to watch?” He murmurs seductively, turning his head to bring his lips so close to your neck. The bruising clutch on your wrist is gone only to find its way to your hair, yanking it back to give himself better access.

Your eyes in the mirror are begging but the inner turmoil from his touch is making you question what exactly you’re asking for. Reason tells you it’s for Suho to save you, to grant you escape, but the way you feel a familiar heat swim to your core has you doubting yourself.

“If he was in there,” he whispers, his lips now on your ear, “don’t you think he’d come in here and try to take you from me, love?”

He chuckles to himself, a joke only he can understand.

“Fuck I’d love to see him try.”

His groan has you aching, your body relapsing to what it knows, anticipating the pleasure and pain only they could provide.

“I’m not mad at you for having us arrested, heaven,” he whispers in your ear, gaze softening for a second in the mirror lulling you into a sense of security you couldn’t tell if it was a trap. “In fact I’m a little in awe, a little proud.”

The smirk he gives you seems genuine.

“We deserved it I know,” reassurance fills his voice, he wants you to hear his sincerity. “What I’m mad about, little love…”

The softness is gone, eyes turn piercing, the proverbial snake about to strike.

“Is the fact you let another man touch what’s mine.”

The guttural rumble of his possessive claim sent waves of need down to your cunt, you could feel it pulsing.

“I’m mine,” you return meekly, trying to find your resolve, but it sounded like a whine.

“Make no mistake Y/n, you’re always going to be mine.”

You didn’t have it in you to argue, not when he sent your eyes rolling back and a shiver down your spine. Fuck he hadn’t even touched you yet, maybe it was true, maybe a part of you would always belong to them, but that didn’t mean all if you did.

“Look at me,” he commands, his breath hitting your neck.

Your blown out eyes meet him in the mirror, that predatory but protective gaze piercing through you. He hums in approval the deep vibration fucking with your senses, making you hazy.

You both hold eye contact even when you can see the fingers on your thigh stroke soothing circles up your skin. Your lips part with a harsh breath when they rub your mound through the fabric of your panties, the touch light and testing and not nearly enough.

“You’re fucking soaking wet baby,” he calls you out with a grin.

You grab his wrist when his fingers cup your heat, his thumb soothing circles on your clit. You press against him, the warmth of his chest enveloping your back. You both fit so well together, you were forgetting why exactly you were so angry at him, but simmers of it still remained even through his touch.

“You know,” he says, opening your leg with his knee to give him more access, “a lot of couples fuck through their problems, should we try?”

He hides his grin, burying his head in you but you can feel it against your skin, the arrogant asshole.

“You can go and fuck yourself,” you sassed back, lying to yourself that you could be fine if he stopped now, that it wouldn’t leave you a needy mess.

“But I’d rather fuck you,” he chuckles, breathing you in, savouring the moment while his fingers slide the fabric aside.

You choke back a moan at the contact of his skin right where you wanted him, the way he spread your wetness until every inch of you was covered in it.

“You can pretend to regret our relationship all you want, but this,” he emphasises his point by slapping your cunt hard, making you gasp, “still wants me.”

“It wants to get fucked,” you spitefully remark through gritted teeth, “doesn’t have to be you.”

That makes him pause, and you have to bite back the words of displeasure.

“You’ll pay for that next time love,” he murmurs dangerously.

“There won’t be a next time,” you try to ridicule him through a laugh but his fingers circle your entrance.

“You’re lying,” he hums, “next time, I think we should tie you down, make you watch other women touch us in ways only you’re allowed to.”

You bury the fury that ruptures at the image, clenching your jaw to keep from swearing at him and proving the point he was trying to make.

“Maybe then you’d have a semblance of understanding of what you did- the torture you put us through.”

“I wouldn’t care,” you breathe, squirming against his fingers, he needed to shut up and move.

“Liar,” he chuckles knowingly, seeing right through you. Before you, there were many females in his organisation, until his little love demanded he get rid of them all. The memory stretches his grin wider.

“Why the fuck was it me?” You whisper, your eyes starting to water at the vulnerability of your tone, remembering the same moment he was. “When I went undercover there were so many beautiful women-“

“They’re not you, little love, don’t for a second compare yourself to them,” he kisses your temple softly in reassurance. His face is in your hair, his hand on your throat as you preen to his touch. “You were sweet and addicting with a fire you were trying so desperately to contain.”

He thrusts two fingers in gently, watching your face contort in want in the mirror, smiling at the way your eyes rolled back. You whimper when he squeezes his grip on your neck.

“To think that passion we saw in your eyes was hatred at first,” he smiles as if amused, watching every little reaction you gave him, every proof of love.

“I did,” you confess, pressing your ass against his hard length and making him groan, “I hated you.”

“You were sent to destroy us, love, but instead you reached into our souls and thought there was something worth saving,” he chuckled, nuzzling into you softly as if he wasn’t knuckle deep inside of you, feeling every part he knew so well. “And save us you did, it was so dark before you our little light, how could we ever let you leave?”

“You’re fucking with my head,” you whimper, head falling back to his chest, it rumbles when he laughs.

“Hmmm? I’m definitely fucking your brains out today Y/n,” he promises with a chuckle, kissing your temple again, but emphasising his point when he scissors his fingers reading you for his cock. “If that’s what you mean.”

This was your fault, you knew what you were getting into when you fell for them. You especially knew Namjoon was the worst of them all. You let his soft side brush away his true nature, and while you never forgot his ruthless persona, you put it to the back of your mind. You foolishly thought you had tamed his cunning cold cruel-

“Oh fuck,” whatever train of thought you had died, the palm of his hand rubbing your clit, stimulating your already aching cunt to the edge. Your parted lips open wider to release a silent scream, his fingers stroking so deep.

You were so close, you could taste it, unable to control the delirious sounds escaping you. So when he stops and slips his fingers away from you, you have to stop yourself screaming in protest.

“Up against the mirror Y/n,” he commands gruffly, but you don’t move, you were so fucking close. Fuck him, fucking asshole, you were so fucking close.

He picks you up with ease, pushing you against the wall so your breath fogs the surface. You hear the zip pull down, your forehead falls forward, your core pulsing in anticipation. He grabs your leg, opening you for him, the head of his cock sliding across your folds until you're whining.

“Stop squirming love,” he warns, but you don’t listen, of course you don’t, so he makes you listen.

The sound you release when he slaps your clit with his hard dick over and over has him questioning his restraint, fuck he wants to just pound into you but you needed to be taught a fucking lesson.

“Joonie sensitive,” you whine, but he’s relentless, making you cry out over and over. Fuck you could actually maybe cum like this.

His self control wavers, his jaw clenched with such a force he thinks it’ll shatter. He couldn’t take it anymore, the swell of his head finds your entrance. Inch by inch, he relishes the feeling of your walls hugging him so fucking tight, the pulse of them pulling him in. He leans over you, trying to regain composure but you feel so good he doesn’t want to move, he wants to stay like this forever, inside of you where he belongs.

You try to push back into him, but he grabs your waist with one hand to keep you still, grinding his hips against you and he knows it’s not enough.

“Look at you arching your back little love,” he smirks, “Your body knows where you belong, it’s a shame you tried to take it away from me.”

Your hands ball into fists on the mirror, you can’t even look at yourself right now, you can’t stop writhing on the surface, trying so hard to get him to move. You squeeze him hard, making his head fall against you with a grunt.

“Behave little love,” he warns, “or I’ll show your colleagues just how well you can take me.”

“Make me,” you dare him even though it comes out as a mumble.

You were dizzy and disorientated and all you wanted was for him to fucking move. He pushes you against the wall hard, every inch of him covering you so you couldn’t budge. You whine, the cold of the hard surface making you seek his warm body, you slot against him like a damn puzzle piece. He was hell bent on torturing you today, as if you hadn’t suffered enough.

“Joonie move,” you almost sound like a brat, trying to order him around.

“I’ll move when I’m ready,” he growls animalistically, barely holding himself back, but he needed to savour this.

You do everything you can to break his control, writhing against him like a bitch in heat. He swallows hard when you clench again. He spanks your ass hard in return, the air gets thicker, you find it harder to breathe. You keep still, the sting of your ass satisfying your craving for a moment, but not for long.

He picks up your skirt, watching himself inside you, watching the beautiful mess you were making. So wet, so perfect, how did you ever think for a second he would ever let this go? The sight is too much, he releases a restrained groan, done with holding himself back.

His hand grips your cheeks, turning your mouth to his, forcing his tongue down your throat as he finally pulls out only to push back in impossibly deeper. You took every punishing thrust, his presence surrounding you everywhere, even in front of you where his reflection painted the surface. He smothered you with his existence, the heat of him scolding, but you liked it, you craved it.

“Do you think your ‘friend’ understands who you fucking belong to now detective L/n?” He chuckles deeply watching your fucked out face in the mirror.

He uses his grip under your knee to turn you towards the camera in the corner of the room.

“Think they can all see little love?” He pants. “How well you fucking take it? How good you are for me?”

You shake your head in protest but it feels too good. Your head falls back on him without the mirror to lean against. His fingers find your clit, his sole purpose to make you lose yourself to him.

“Fuck look at you shaking baby,” he groans, feeling you pulse around him, drawing closer to the edge. “Your poor pussy just needs to come huh?”

You can hear the smirk in his tone, fucking self satisfied prick.

“Not as badly as you need it,” you taunt back, feeling your defiance flare despite how your body was begging you to behave..

“Fuck you might be right,” he groans, going harder, faster. “I’m always going to need it.”

His confession takes you over, the words pushing you so hard you come apart violently, thrashing against him as you unravel, but he holds you tight. He doesn’t let you fall. You couldn’t breathe, you couldn’t think, all you could feel was him and the burst of pleasure that carried on wave after wave, and you never wanted it to stop.

“This is mine,” he grunts as he comes undone inside of you, fucking his cum deeper until it got through to your soul.

He was a part of you, and you could try to deny it now with his mistakes on the table, but he was so embedded in the fabric of you he couldn’t see where he began and where you ended. His entire existence was for you, it was only fair your cunt, body and soul belonged to him. Maybe the others too, as an afterthought, but you were his first.

He feels the mess slide out of you as he leaves your warmth, turning you softly so you could lean against him as you catch your breath. He holds you tight, arn arm around your middle like the steel of a bar. He has every intention of letting you recover but the way you look up at him with those glossy eyes confirms the fact he will never be satiated, he will always want more of you even if there was nothing left to give.

“Our little love,” he breathes in your face, stealing a hard kiss, “our little downfall.”

His mouth held you prisoner again and again, humming pleasantly as you let him devour you in so many ways. His kiss was bruising, hungry, overindulging.

Your eyes search his as he parts reluctantly, your mind still hazy, the bliss of sex still circulating your body.

“Why did you lie to me?” You whisper breathlessly against his lips as you come down, and he can hear the vulnerability in your tone, it makes a guilt spread across his chest that feels almost alien. The way you could make him ache like no one else, he should cast you aside for introducing a weakness in him but he wouldn’t even dream of it.

“I didn’t want to lose you,” he confesses sincerely. “I didn’t want you to hate me.”

“I asked you not to hurt him,” your eyes tear up again, and he curses himself and the existence of Kim Suho.

“I know.”

“But you did it anyway,” you continue, “and then you had the gall to lie to my face.”

You wipe away the tears that fall harshly, your mind clearing. You push him away and fix yourself up, knowing from the glances in the mirror you were a mess.

“You always own up to your actions, right or wrong, you never hide them,” you laugh and you think you must sound psychotic. “The Kim Namjoon… I remember the days you would drop dead bodies in front of me without remorse, without ever feeling the need to explain yourself.”

“I was testing you then,” he grunts, remembering those days well. “I needed to know you had the stomach to be with us.”

“I hated you so much,” you confess, swallowing down a sob. “And for the first time since I fell in love with you Joonie, I can feel that hate grow again.”

His jaw clenches, his fist too. He could feel a threat on the tip of his lips, one where the Captain's head would end up on a plate in front of you for dinner but he holds himself back.

“You don’t mean that,” he says between gritted teeth.

“I had you fucking arrested Namjoon,” you argue back fiercely. “Don't tell me what I mean or don’t mean.”

“You also fucked me after the fact,” he states and the harsh words slap you hard. You did. You let him defile you here only moments ago.

“Old habits die hard.”

“Not with me love,” he dismisses the thought. “Not as long as I’m alive.”

“We’ll see,” you challenge, feeling that earlier conviction rise.

“Understand something Y/n,” he says seriously, his face solemn and hard in a way you had witnessed rarely. This was Kim Namjoon with something to lose. “You can run, you can fight, you can hate me if you need to, but there isn’t a life worth living for us without you in it.”

He takes his seat back in the interrogation chair, putting his handcuffs back on with ease, all while keeping his eye contact with you.

“You want me here, you want to punish me,” he continues, “fine, this where I’ll stay until you’re appeased, until you forgive me.”

“I won’t,” you deny, shaking your head.

“You will.”

#bts au #bts fanfic #bts x reader #bts angst #bts smut #bts mafia imagine #bts mafia!au #bts mafia series #bts yandere!au #yandere bts #bts yandere #bts ot7 au #bts ot7 x reader #namjoon mafia au #namjoon x reader #namjoon smut #namjoon angst

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ghostofhyuck · 2 days

Text

His Car isn't Yours

He’s Mark Lee. He’s smart, handsome, a gentleman — everyone’s ideal boyfriend. He’s everything. Oh my god, girls would die to be in your spot. And yet, you felt uneasy as he took you on a date.

Oh right. You remember. Mark Lee is not him.

Word count: 2.5k

Tags: Fluff, angst. Mentions of NCT Dream Members. Mentions of sexual innuendo (just a few!)

Song Inspiration: His Car isn’t Yours by Wendy

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

“How about this?” you asked over the video call. It’s almost seven in the evening and you’re still in your bathrobe, raiding your closet while showing it to your best friend. You couldn’t help it. You’re sweating and nervous.

“Did he mention where he’ll take you?” your best friend Donghyuck said over the phone.

“It’s a surprise he said, he just said dress pretty — what does he mean by that!?”

You heard Donghyuck’s hum for a minute. “Okay, ditch the pants and wear a nice dress and sandals.”

“Thanks, you’re a lifesaver Hyuck,” you said to him before proceeding to find the baby blue summer dress that you rarely wear. It was adorned with white flowers, the skirt being just above your knee and hugging your figure perfectly.

“Well of course! I couldn’t believe it!” Donghyuck squeals, you can see him jumping in his bed excitingly. “You’re going on a date with Mark, everyone wants him, you know that?”

Your smile faded when you heard your best friend’s comment. As the dress fit onto yours, you couldn’t help but to stare at the mirror. Suddenly, this idea was bad.

“Yn, don’t tell me you’re having second thoughts,” Donghyuck asked.

“What?” you only laughed, trying to brush off Donghyuck’s words. “No, of course not! You’re crazy.”

“Great, because this is the perfect opportunity for you to get over that jerk.”

Right. Donghyuck’s right. It’s time for you to get over him. It’s been a few months since you two broke up. It was a disaster and you remember crying in your best friend’s arms for a few hours until you passed out because you were too dehydrated. Donghyuck cursed him and you swore that that night Donghyuck swore all the curses that he could think of because of your ex-boyfriend.

It took you a while to pick up yourselves. Slumping yourself on your academics and studies just to get over him. But no matter how much you tried, there were nights that you cried and wondered, what went wrong with the two of you? You never attempted to move on from him. You’re still holding onto that small hope that maybe. Maybe. He’ll show up in your footsteps and ask for another chance.

But he didn’t and instead, Mark Lee somehow waited for you outside the hallways of your building, asking you if you two can go out for some coffee. Schemingly, Donghyuck agreed on your behalf, convincing you that you should just try it.

It was the first time you smiled in months. Mark was nice. He was easy to converse with, and he’s also good-looking to start with. You two enjoyed the cup of coffee, and it ended up with you asking what was his intention.

“I thought I was being obvious,” he laughs. A shy smile formed on his lips. “I’ve liked you ever since yn.”

You remember being caught off-guard with his sudden confession, you don’t know why but you feel your cheeks heating up because of it. Maybe, you were flustered by his sudden confession. You watch as Mark shyly looks away, and you don’t know why but a part of you wants to know where this will end.

That’s where you are right now. Wearing your baby blue dress, doing some finishing touches on your makeup while you’re waiting for Mark to pick you up. You agreed to have a date with him, and for once, you wanted to not mop around because of your ex-boyfriend.

“Oh wow, you look gorgeous,” Donghyuck compliments. “Hope you get dicked tonight.”

You laughed as you sprayed your perfume on you, “I’m not planning to.”

“That’s sad of you boo,” Donghyuck sticks out his tongue and as you put on your shoes, you hear Mark’s car parking in front of your place.

“Fuck, okay I got to go,” you said, grabbing your phone to say goodbye to your friend.

“Goodluck on your date! Tell me the deets tomorrow!” your best friend said one last time before hanging up. You only smile as you grab some few things and place them in your bag. As you went out of your place, you saw Mark leaning against his car, scrolling through his phone.

You stop midway, remembering that it was Mark who’s picking you up, and not him. It’s Mark, who’s hair is dyed blonde, leaning against his Honda Civic which is a different model that your ex-boyfriend drives.

You watch as Mark glances at you and does a double take, he puts his phone on his jean’s pocket as he approaches you with a smile.

“Wow,” he breathes. “You look so beautiful.”

Right. You remembered. That tonight isn’t about him, it’s about you and Mark and the hopes that you may find someone better than your ex.

“Thank you,” you only said. “You look handsome too.”

Mark lets out a chuckle, “should we get going?”

You only nod as Mark guides you towards his car, opening the car door for you which makes your heart flutter. The seat was comfortable and the interiors of the car looked interesting. Your eyes scanned the inside and noticed how it’s polished clean. Even the smell is nice and not those heavy air purifiers that pierces through your nostrils.

Mark enters the car, and his hands trail towards the seat belt, placing yours first before his.

“I’ll just put the music on shuffle, but if you want, you can connect your phone if you want to play any songs that you want,” he said, pressing play on the car’s stereo.

“I love this song!” you said, humming along the song.

Mark only smiles as he watches you dance lightly to the song, he revved the engine and started driving. He taps on the steering wheel as you continue to sing. He finds you cute, enticed by the lyrics of the song and even attempting to hit the high note.

“Oh by the way, where are we going?” you asked.

“It’s a surprise,” he teased.

“Any hint at least?”

Mark hums for a moment, “it's outskirts of the town.”

You became quiet, wondering what he means by outskirts. It’s either on the hills where the grassfield is clean and a perfect place for a picnic. Donghyuck gossips to you that it's supposedly a perfect hideaway for hookups and sex.

You glanced at Mark for a second and your heart started beating. There’s no way he’s going to bring you there. It’s too early! But a part of you thinks that Mark isn’t that type of guy who wants you for sex, so maybe it’ll be a wholesome picnic.

Hopefully.

But as your mind starts to panic, he turns left which is the complete opposite towards the side, your eyes widen. You know where this is going.

“We’re here!” he said, parking his car in front of the restaurant. As you step outside, you can feel the wind gently sweeping your skirt. You glanced at the sign. It was neon green, blinking due to its weariness. It’s been years since you went here and a sense of nostalgia hit on you.

“I can’t believe you brought me here,” you said with an amused tone. “I loved this place when I was a kid! I hope they still have their karaoke here.”

“I’m sure it’s still here,” Mark said. “Should we get inside?”

The interiors are still the same as when you were kids. The smell and the vibe, it’s all there! You see the karaoke on the diner’s corner and you can see that it’s still working, just waiting for a patron to drop a coin and pick a song number.

You and Mark chose the seat on the corner of the restaurant. It has a couch instead of the usual chairs, that’s why it’s more comfortable for both of you. The restaurant wasn’t that crowded with people, but it was still bustling with noises.

After the waitress wrote down your orders, your eyes couldn’t stop scanning the place. It is a memorable place for you. Your parents always bring you there on your birthdays or whenever you get good grades. You weren’t able to return to the restaurant ever since your parents moved to another country for work. You long forgotten about the restaurant too, that’s why it was a surprise that Mark brought you there.

“How did you know about this place?” you asked.

“This has been a popular restaurant ever since I was kid,” Mark explained. “I was craving their chicken and fries that’s why I brought you here.”

You laughed at his explanation but you saw his genuine side about it, “thanks. It’s been a long time since I went here.”

Mark only smiles. “Well, I’m happy that you loved it.”

As your order arrived, you and Mark downed on the food while at the same time continued your conversation. You two recalled the memories you two had when you were kids. Even listing down the songs you used to sing at the karaoke. Mark was convinced that at some point, when you two were kids, you two met at the restaurant.

Halfway through the slice of strawberry shortcake that you two ordered. You decided to be bold, standing up and approaching the karaoke.

“Are you going to sing dear? The songbook is on the side,” the waitress said with a bright smile.

You gave her a smile, “I hope my favourite song is still here.”

As you pressed the number, you were surprised that Madonna’s Crazy for You is still listed. You placed down the coin and the familiar tune began to fill the air. Applause from the customer began as you sang the lyrics.

You swayed along the song. You watch as the customers stood up and danced along with you. You turned around and saw Mark, smiling at you and even mouthing “wow” making you smirk as you winked at him. You continued to sing, feeling the rhythm, and then a bright idea popped into your mind.

Slowly, you approached Mark, who at first was embarrassed, but after much convincing from the crowd, he stood up and danced along with you, earning cheers from everyone. As the song ends, you let out a small bow and were about to return to your seat when Mark pulled you.

“Hey, sing with me on this one?” Mark said. You watch as he pressed some number and as soon as he dropped the coin, your heart shrunk.

You know this song. You know damn well this song. Because this is your song with him. The upbeat song of Starship’s Nothing’s Gonna Stop Us Now filled the room and you watched as Mark sang the first line. Fuck. He used to sing it with you, because he likes the song so much.

It quickly grasped into your mind that it was Mark who’s you’re singing with, you plastered a smile as you sang along the lyrics. In the eyes of the crowd, you two look like a couple. Two teenagers in love and having the best moment of their life, especially when Mark grabs your hand and twirls you before singing the bridge of the song.

You managed to finish the song, and the crowd cheered, even shouting “Kiss!” from them. Mark tried to brush it off, and you only let out a bitter chuckle because of the awkward situation.

After that whole singing session, you and Mark have called it a night. You were in a daze as you two exited the restaurant. You only snapped out of it when Mark held your hand and intertwined his fingers around it.

“Did I startle you? Sorry,” he was about to let go when you squeezed it lightly.

“No, it’s okay, my energy was just low because of the karaoke,” you explained, smiling at him.

“I had fun,” Mark said with a sincere tone. “I’m really glad that we went there.”

“Well, thank your chicken cravings then,” you teased, making him laugh.

As you two drive to your place. You two fell into a peaceful silence. You only watched as you passed by around the town. You couldn’t help but to lean on to the car window.

Tonight was fun. Being with Mark was fun. But as you sit there in silence your heart couldn’t help but to yearn for him. It’s hard. You wanted to cry and to let out all of your emotions. You wanted to blame him, because right now, he’s occupying your mind when it should be Mark who’s sitting next to you.

And as soon as Mark parks his car in front of your place, you couldn’t help but to stare at your apartment.

“You okay?” Mark asked.

That made you glance at him, “me? Of course, why?”

“You seem to be in very deep thoughts earlier,” Mark explained. “Wouldn’t mind telling me what it is?”

Mark is sweet. He was a gentleman, not to mention, a really popular guy in your university. Everyone wants him. Girls are lining up for him and would die to be in your place. And yet, you couldn’t find yourself lucky that he likes you.

Because Mark is not him. No matter how nice, sweet, and good-looking Mark Lee is. He is not the one you love. And you hoped that this night may change it, but no. He’s still occupying your heart.

“Listen Mark,” you breathe out. “You're sweet and caring, I had fun tonight but…”

You don’t know what to say. You don’t want to hurt him, you couldn’t bear to hurt Mark after you two just went out. It felt like a jerk move to do so.

But a part of you wants to be frank with him too.

“I just, I don’t think I’m not ready to be in a relationship,” you confessed. “If ever we’ll be together, I wanted to make sure that I can give myself to you but right now —”

“You haven’t moved on from Jeno, haven’t you?”

There it is. Mark mentioned his name and you can feel your heart beating nonstop. God, your ex-boyfriend had you wrapped around his fingers

“I’m sorry,” it was the only thing that you could say.

“No, it’s okay yn,” Mark chuckles. “It’s my fault too, I pursued you too early.”

“No, oh my god. It’s just —-”

“It’s fine yn no worries,” Mark gives you a smile, making you feel more guilty. “But that doesn’t stop me from pursuing you, you know that? I’ll be waiting until you’re ready.”

You could only let out a small smile, but in a split second you leaned onto him to give him a quick kiss on his cheeks. “Thank you Mark, I enjoyed our date tonight.”

“I’m glad you did.”

You bid goodnight to Mark. you gave him a smile one last time before going inside your apartment, as soon as you close the door, you couldn’t help but to lean against the door as you hear his car’s engine slowly fade into the background. You can still feel the coldness of the ac, and the scent of the lavender purifier of Mark’s car lingered on you.

But it felt different. Weird. Unfamiliar because you know that Mark’s car isn’t his.

Pt. 2 Jeno’s POV coming soon.

#nct dream #nct imagines #nct dream fic #nct fic #nct x reader #nct #nct dream imagine #nct scenarios #nct fluff #nct mark #nct mark fic #nct mark fluff #nct mark imagines #nct dream mark #mark lee imagines #mark lee fic #mark lee x reader

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puck-luck · 1 day

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Ok, my ideia of a request it's a smut (of course) piece where Nico H and girlfriend are in Swiss for the summer and they are on a road trip, and while driving in the middle of a forest they HAVE to pull onto the side of the road to have sex 😉

I hope you can understand, English not my first language!

warnings: brat!reader (she's so me), car sex, oral (f receiving), begging/teasing (manipulation?) pairing: nico hischier x fem!reader summary: not quite following the request, but the one where fem!reader rides nh's face in the back of the car during a scenic drive. wc: 1111

“I like the mustache, Neeks.”

Nico turns to face you, offering up a small smile. “I know, schatz. You told me this morning.”

“Yeah, but I don’t think I got to appreciate it this morning,” You grin, sliding Nico’s hand from its spot on your knee to the inside of your thigh. He’s always touching you somehow when he’s driving and today is no different, and today it’s giving you the perfect leverage to tease him.

“You just don’t want me to shave.”

You toss your head back, groaning. “I don’t think it’s fair that you’re lucky enough to be sexy with a mustache and you still decide to shave it.”

“Fair to whom, baby?”

“No fucking shot you know how to use whom instead of who, Nico.”

Nico laughs, squeezing your thigh before patting it and returning it to rest on your knee. “I had to learn English. You’ve been fluent since you were a baby. I’m sure once I’m done teaching you how to speak my language, you’ll know more about the grammar rules than I do.”

“Can we get back to the topic at hand?” You reply, moving Nico’s hand up again. “Your mustache?”

“I’m shaving it tomorrow. You can’t convince me to keep it.”

“I want to ride your face.”

Nico blinks in surprise, mouth slightly ajar. He nods a few times, eyes wide. “Yeah. Yeah, we should do that.”

“Now,” You tell him, hatting your eyelashes innocently. “We should do it now. There’s no time to waste, since you’re so set on shaving tomorrow.”

With that, you unbuckle your seatbelt and crawl into the backseat. In the backseat, able to make eye contact with Nico through the rearview mirror, you shed your shorts and your skimpy panties. You’d been planning this all day, ever since Nico rejected your advances this morning and opted to plan a drive through the mountains surrounding his hometown. You spread your legs and tilt your head, waiting for Nico to look back at you again.

He does, but looks away a split second later, adjusting both of his hands on the steering wheel. You don’t miss the way he swallows, just short of an audible gulp.

“Come on, Ni. You know you want to join me.”

You swipe your fingers through your folds, bringing it up to your lips. You wrap your lips around your finger, licking up the digit in clear view of your boyfriend.

“Y/N,” Nico complains.

You moan around your finger.

“We’re supposed to be on a nice, scenic drive.”

“There’s a different view I’d like to see, baby,” You tease. “I think there’s a view that you’d like to see, too.”

Nico falls silent, seeming caught off guard by your boldness.

“You know the one I’m referring to, right, Neeks?” You ask, voice light and airy as you continue to touch yourself. “I know how much you love to see me above you.”

“Schatzi,” Nico murmurs, indicating that you have to proceed with caution if you want to continue at all.

“I thought you loved it when I take what I need from you, Nico. I need to fuck myself with your mouth, why won’t you join me?” You pout, using all of his weaknesses against him. “Don’t you want to get a taste of me?”

Nico curses under his breath. He steers to the side of the road and shifts the car into park, getting out of the vehicle and rounding the car to push the passenger seat all the way forward before he joins you in the back. You watch his arm muscles flex as the seat moves. You slip a finger into your wet cunt, letting out a soft moan at the feeling.

“Take it out,” Nico commands, slamming the passenger door and taking two steps to open the door to the back. “Don’t touch what’s mine.”

You pump your fingers in and out of yourself one more time for good measure, then shift over to make room for Nico.

“Nope,” He says, voice sharp. He manages to fit himself into the space on the floor between the backseat and the passenger seat. His body faces the passenger seat and he tilts his head back to lean against the seat behind him. “Come on. Gonna fuck you with my tongue.”

Nico opens his mouth and sticks his tongue out, flat for you to lower yourself onto. You smile, nice and wide and very toothy, before swinging one leg over Nico and bracketing his head with your knees. You lower yourself down, Nico’s big hands meeting you halfway and pulling you down to meet his waiting tongue.

He’s relentless from the get-go, his tongue flexing against you in short licks that offer plenty of stimulation but no real relief.

You grind down on his tongue in mostly-aborted motions, the angle much more awkward than it is in your bed at home. Your head is mere inches from the roof of the car, causing you to hunch over in a way that can’t be sexy, but Nico seems to enjoy anyway. You’ve got a view of his eyes, the ones that are following every sway and bounce of your tits as you continue to grind down.

“Nico,” You groan. “More.”

Nico lifts you off his tongue just long enough to berate you. “The thing that you begged for so impatiently wasn’t enough? Poor girl. Maybe you shouldn’t get to come at all.”

You cry out in denial, but it turns into something more drawn out and longing when Nico reattaches himself to your clit and sucks hard, shameless slurping noises coming from below you. His mustache feels heavenly against your skin, scratchy and itchy and beautiful as your juices begin to coat it.

When Nico shifts down to fuck his tongue into your hole, the hair above his lip rubs against your folds and his nose nudges your clit. He’s fast and desperate with his movements, pulling you into him so close that you can feel his breaths as he inhales and exhales. The soft sensation of his breath is what pulls you over the edge, in the end. It’s like a string, keeping you attached to him and to the world, whereas everything else fades away.

Nico licks you through the orgasm, then presses a kiss to the side of your thigh. He playfully bites you, then tosses you to the side, your back hitting the backseat with an “oof.”

He gets stuck for a moment in the spot where he’s sitting, shifting this way and that before he manages to free himself. You giggle as he does so and he side-eyes you.

“Menace.”

note: RIP Nico's Mustache. I miss you already. I wish we had had more than one day with you.

#puck-luck's fics #nico hischier #nico hischier smut #nico hischier x reader #nico nischier x y/n #nico hischier x you #nhl smut #nhl x reader #nhl fic #nhl fanfiction #andy writes anything🍄

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heavenlyraindrops · 13 hours

Note

Hello! can you see a girl reader who wants to be perfect in everything (in appearance, in weight and in work) and cries if someone bypasses her? characters: adam or lucifer :)

“ᴘᴇʀꜰᴇᴄᴛɪᴏɴ” ——> ᴀᴅᴀᴍ & ʟᴜᴄɪꜰᴇʀ x ꜰᴇᴍ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ——> ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 1.2ᴋ | ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴀꜱꜱᴜʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜ’ʀᴇ ᴘᴇʀꜰᴇᴄᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴀʏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ

warnings: profanity, mentions of not eating (? Idk)

A/N: omds my first request! thanks anon, hope this is on par with what you were hoping for! Soz if I got anything wrong/ misinterpreted the request :(

——> Lucifer:

You smoothed your hands down your sides, eyes locking onto the reflection in the mirror and assessing the dress you were wearing. You were due to visit Charlie and the Hotel- she was holding some event- soon with your husband.

But you knew you couldn’t. Not right then, in that state of mind.

Your muscles ached with hours of stress and overworking yourself, the eye bags that carved shadows into your face from the lack of sleep hidden by your makeup. You loathed the way you looked- not because it was ugly, you were beautiful enough- but because it wasn’t perfect enough.

You were worried you weren’t good enough for Lucifer. You were worried you weren’t as good as her. Lilith.

Be anything, you’d think. Be anything you want. Just be better than her.

You knew this sort of mindset wasn’t healthy, but you craved to be like her, to be better. Her figure, her looks, her success. Whenever you were with Lucifer, you felt like the shadow of her loomed over you, foreboding, ominous. And no amount of his kisses and affirmations could make it go away.

Of course, it wasn’t just Lilith- you were an obsessive perfectionist at heart. Your desire to be perfect already had its grip on you, but then you saw her and you realized that you weren’t at the top. You weren’t the best, as long as she was there. And it crushed you.

Sometimes you’d go without food. Sometimes you’d go without sleep. Sometimes Lucifer would kiss you and tell you he loved you and then your eyes would fall onto her portrait, gleaming in the shadows, and every ounce of warmth would rush out of your body.

Three knocks sounded on the bathroom door, and you flinched out of your haze of misery.

“Angel?” His voice drifted in through the door. “You okay in there?”

No. No. Not now. Tears threatened to spill over. You clenched your fists, nails digging into your palm. Of course my brain decided to make me have a breakdown now. Perfect timing.

You opened your mouth, to speak, your chest clenching as you tried to keep your voice steady. “I…” you trailed off suddenly, clamping your lips together after hearing your own voice. “I’m fine.”

A beat for silence. “You’re not fine. Open the door.”

You did, hoping to god your face didn’t betray how you felt. His arms were crossed, sleeves rolled up and coat and hat off. You shrunk in on yourself as his frown deepened once he saw your face.

“What’s wrong?” He said, gently, quietly, as if you would break. “You’ve been acting off lately.” His hand searched for yours to hold. Eyes soft and concerned. Your heart tore.

And then the dam broke. You slumped your tears rushing like a huge tidal wave, the storm behind your eyes pouring out and suffocating you.

Within moments his arms surrounded your shaking shoulders, as you curled into his shoulder, your body racked with sobs. “Hush,” he soothed, stroking your hair away. His body was tense under his shirt, you noticed as you clutched the fabric, and you suddenly felt a jolt of nausea. You pushed him away.

“Don’t look at me,” you sobbed, hiding your face in your hands as you curled in on yourself on the cold tiles.

“Why?” Lucifer said, voice beseeching you to listen. He took hold of your wrists, pulling them away from your face. “[name], just talk to me.”

You sniffled, face burning as he cupped your face in his hands. “Cause I look hideous,” you muttered. His eyes swept over you, taking you in thoughtfully.

“You don’t look hideous.”

“Yes I do,” you choked out, and he sighed, his breath skimming your nose. “I’m not good enough.” The words tumbled out of you as you struggled to rein them in, to control your tongue. “I need to be perfect, but-“

“Hey, hey,” he said, firmly, shushing you. “Who said you need to be perfect? Who said you aren’t already?”

You blinked at him. “Huh? I- no one-“

“Then shut up,” he muttered, pressing his lips to your forehead. “You’re already beautiful, understood? You’re the most perfect person I’ve ever met. You don’t need to be any better.”

Your heart swelled, tears drying on your face as you took in the way he looked at you. You pulled him in for a kiss before quickly wiping your eyes. Mascara smeared on the side of your hand, and you cursed, stumbling up.

He grabbed you by the waist, pulling you out of the bathroom. “Not now, darling,” he murmured, pulling you back into the bedroom. “Worry about that later.”

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled. “We’re probably late now and-“

“We’re not going,” he said, and held open his arms, legs pressed to the side of the bed. Without thinking, you immediately crawled into his arms.

You closed your eyes, the steady beat of his heart calming you, the warmth radiating from his body engulfing you. His voice rumbled against your hair. “I love you, got that?”

“I love you too.”

——> Adam:

“Babe, you need to start fucking eating more.”

Your eyes locked with Adam’s behind you in the mirror as you ran your hands down your sides, tracing your figure. You hated it- so much, because you knew you weren’t good enough. Mediocre at best- and you couldn’t stand that.

I’m a Winner. I need to be perfect. For Heaven, for myself. You met Adam’s eyes again. For Adam.

He’d had two wives before you. What if you weren’t enough?

And on the other hand, there was Lute. God, you wanted to be her so bad. You’d always been number two to her, in your own mind at least, and it was slowly driving you insane. Her voice, her body, hair, skills, everything about her screamed unique, cool, original, individualistic- you could have gone on forever. And you, in comparison, were just… plain.

The mere thought clawed at you like a wild, desperate animal. Your husband’s eyes in the mirror held concern for you- concern that made your stomach churn.

“I’m fine. Aren’t you going to eat dinner?”

He rolled his eyes. “The fuck’s the point of eating dinner alone when you’re right here?”

You fought to keep your voice calm as his gaze pierced through you, your shoulders sinking. “I’m not hungry.” As if on cue, your stomach grumbled.

He ran a hand through his brown hair, fluffing it up, exasperated. You flushed as he grabbed your waist, pulling you in, before his hand fell to your hip and squeezed.

“Goddammit, [name], you think I don’t fucking know what you’re doing? It’s obvious you’re starving yourself.” He pressed a kiss to your neck and you pushed him away gently.

“Starving is an overstatement,” you said weakly, and your stomach grumbled again. He pinched your cheek furiously.

“What are you even gonna fuckin’ get outta this?”

You hugged your sides, a lump forming in your throat at the angry look on his face. “Are you mad at me?”

The furious expression etched across his face fell immediately? “Huh? What? No.” His face fell even more as you turned away, rubbing your eyes. “I’m just mad you think you need to stop eating for whatever reason-“

“Whatever reason?” You bit out. “Look at me, Adam! I’m not enough. I need to be perfect. I can’t-“

“You are perfect,” he said flatly. You froze, looking at him. Your own ragged breathing was the only thing you heard, apart from the ticking of the clock. He stared back. You knew he wasn’t good at comforting- so you also knew he wasn’t saying this for your own benefit.

“I’m not,” you forced out the words, “I’m not good enough.” You gestured to him, then around you. “For you, for everyone. I’m not the best version of myself, I can’t-“

“For fucks sake,” he snapped, cupping your face in his hands and roughly pulling you in for a kiss, tongue immediately swiping over your lips. He pulled away, breath hot on your face.“If you weren’t good I wouldn’t have fuckin’ married you.”

The sincereness lining the rough edges of his tone set it in for you, and you kissed back before he pulled away, and he linked his arm with yours and dragged you into the kitchen, huffing.

You flopped down onto the kitchen table where he left you before he returned with a plate of food, sitting opposite you. He propped himself up on his elbows and quirked an eyebrow.

“Eat,” he said.

You did.

“Good?”

You nodded, wolfing down some more. He chuckled, and leaned over, kissing your forehead.

“Love you. Don’t fuckin’ forget that.”

You sighed, then smiled. “Love you too.”

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lovelyjj · 2 days

Note

hey! Can you write insecure reader who stops eating and her boyfriend JJ finds out?

I love all your works btw! 😽🫶

Insecure

jj maybank x reader

a/n: thank you and thank you so much for requesting!

It was hard not to compare yourself to other girls. When you were at the beach all you could think about is the bodies of the other girls. They had tiny waists and long legs. Their hair was perfect and you just wished you looked like them.

The fact that you had to wear a bikini to the beach made you not want to go. Showing off your body is quite possibly the last thing you would ever want to be doing. So you would ether not go or wear a sweatshirt and say you weren’t tanning or swimming.

It was also hard to see the same girls at the beach flirt with your boyfriend. JJ would blow them off and reassure you that that you were the only one for him. JJ didn’t even glance in their direction. He was completely devoted to you. Yet you still felt like he deserved better.

All you could think about is how horrible you looked. You were far from how the girls at the beach looked, and you couldn’t help but think you were ugly. You were deeply insecure and you didn’t know how to fix it.

You felt uncomfortable in your own skin and not good enough for anyone or anything. You were tired of feeling this way, it was draining. You were also feeling hopeless. Your mind was your worst enemy. Every time you looked in the mirror you cringed. So, you tried to avoid doing that at all times.

When food was placed in front of you you would almost gag. You didn’t want to eat. It was too much. You thought maybe if you stopped eating you would become thinner and look like all the other girls with tiny waists.

You didn’t mean to it just sort of happened. You thought you were just not hungry, but then you were skipping meals. a lot of meals. You have stopped eating all together and you were hoping that you would get good results out of it.

JJ wasn’t stupid, he knew something was wrong he just didn’t know what. He noticed that he hasn’t seen you eat in a long time. He also noticed that you’ve lost some weight. Of course your weight didn’t matter to him but he was concerned for your health.

The chateau was busy with all the pogues in it. They were all getting ready to go in the hot tub. You were having a dilemma because you didn’t want to get into a swimsuit. So you decided you wouldn’t go in.

“What’s up buttercup?” JJ asked.

“Nothing just chillin,” you spoke.

“How are you, seriously?” JJ asked. He was concerned about you. He was watching you decline and he hated it.

“Um m’fine,” you replied.

“I think we need to talk,” JJ put forth.

“what about?”

“I haven’t seen you eat in a long time and I’m worried about you,” JJ confessed.

You let out a deep sigh. You did not want to have this conversation right now.

“Don’t worry about it JJ,” you instructed.

“No I will worry about it because i worry about you. You’re my girl and I care about you. I’m concerned. Please baby, talk to me.” JJ begged.

“I just want to feel pretty,” tears filled your eyes but you didn’t let them fall.

“I thought maybe if I stop eating, I would loose some weight.” You looked down on the floor avoiding JJ’s eyes.

“You know I think you’re the most beautiful girl in the world right?!”

“Baby please look at me.”

You did as you were told, reluctantly.

“I want you to listen to me when I say this. You’re perfect just the way you are. I love you and I love your body. I think you’re gorgeous. It breaks my heart that you don’t see it. I wish you could see yourself through my eyes.”

You gave JJ a sad smile.

“Come here,” JJ opened his arms for you to get into.

Once you were in JJ’s arms he kissed your cheek. Then he kissed your forehead. He then kissed your temple. “My beautiful girl, love you so much!” Then he kissed your lips.

“How about I order a pizza?” JJ suggested.

“I don’t know jayj,” you shrugged.

“Come on please baby I need you to eat something for me. I don’t want you to wither away. I care about you and your health.”

“I’ll eat with you, I will even help you. If you want me too,” JJ shrugged.

“Jayj…”

“No come on, I’m ordering the pizza, end of story.”

You gave JJ a small smile silently thanking him but you were more so just done protesting. You knew JJ meant well you were just stubborn. It meant a lot to you that he cared so much about you. You thought it was sweet. You just really didn’t want to eat.

The pizza was delivered and you were dreading eating it. JJ took the pizza to his room so you could have some privacy.

“I know you don’t want to eat but i’m right here I’m not going anywhere and I want you to nourish your body.”

“okay jayj.”

JJ sat with you and helped you eat. He was understanding and considerate. He wanted to be there for you during this hard time. With JJ’s help you were able to eat something.

“There you go baby, good job! I’m proud of you,” JJ praised.

“Thank you J.”

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chgridlock · 8 hours

Text

Fine. LN- pt 2.

Part. 1 here: https://www.tumblr.com/chgridlock/749224119672995840/fine-ln-series-1

Y/n and Lando were childhood best friends, an inseparable duo who knew each other’s secrets like the back of their hand. But then came F1. Lando transformed into a playboy prince, his name synonymous with champagne showers and a different model on every arm. Models just like y/n, except for her. Disgusted, she distanced herself, the warmth of their friendship replaced by a biting cold. Y/n, chasing her own dreams, blossomed into a sough-after model, gracing the covers of magazines right under Lando’s nose, well, at least that’s what she assumed. In taught, Lando followed her religiously on social media, a secret admirer hidden behind a facade of arrogante.

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, ex best friends au, Lando being a little dick

The torrential downpour caught me off guard, it was way worst now, transforming the picturesque cobblestone streets into a treacherous obstacle course. My flimsy jacket offered little protection against the relentless onslaught, and my heels sank precariously into the slick pavement with each step. I was a comical sight, a clumsy ballet dancer struggling against the elements.

Lando watched from the car, his initial annoyance replaced by a growing sense of unease. He couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt stab at his heart. Perhaps he had been too hard. Seeing you struggle, your once defiant stance replaced by a comical awkwardness, chipped away at his resolve.

He sighed, a heavy exhale that fogged up the windshield for a moment. With a flick of his wrist, he threw the car back into park, the engine sighing softly to a halt. The silence outside was broken only by the relentless drumming of the rain in the roof.

“Just get back in…” he mumbled, his voice barely audible over the downpour. I could sense the shame in his eyes, a fleeting moment of vulnerability before it was masked by his gruff demeanor.

I couldn’t help but scoff at his suggestion. “Oh, really?” I drawled, my voice dripping with sarcasm. With a flick of my damp hair, I sashayed past the car, the precariousness of my heel adding an element of defiance to my movements. “Who does he think he is for real…” I think to myself.

Lando watched me go, a wave of frustration washing over him. He slammed his fist against the steering wheel, the sound echoing hollowly in the car. “Damn it…” he muttered, more to himself than anything else.

“Can you just get back in the car?” He yelled, his voice laced with exasperation. “Do you have any idea how stubborn you are right now?” The rain blurred his vision as he looked out at my retreating figure, a sense of helplessness gnawing at him.

“You literally said ‘get out’” i retorted, my voice barely a whisper carried on the wind. I stopped, turning to face him, my posture stiff and defiant despite the rain cascading down my face. “It’s not my fault that you’re so-“

He cut me off, his voice rising in frustration. “I said ‘get out’ because you were being difficult…” he explained, the words tumbling out in a rush. But even to his own ears, they sounded hollow.

“Difficult?” I scoffed, the sound laced with a hurt that mirrored his own.

“It’s no my fault that you’re so stubborn and unreasonable that you’d rather walk in this heavy rain and get soaked to the bone than accept my help.”

I stood there, a defiant island in a sea of rain, my jacket clutched protectively around my shivering form. I met his gaze, a silent battle of wills playing out between us. The air crackled with unspoken emotions.

He glared at you, his eyes burning with a mix of anger. His patience had worn thin, freaked by your defiance like a threadbare rope. Dealing with this felt like navigating a minefield, one wrong step and the whole thing would explode.

“Fine,” he spat, the word laced with venom. “Walk home alone in the rain. Be an idiot. Just know that I don’t care if you catch a chill or a fever.”

He revved the engine, the sound growling in the quiet street. A flicker of satisfaction crossed his features as he glanced at you in the rearview mirror. But the satisfaction curdled quickly, replaced by something akin to worry again. How can you do this to him? You felt like a drug he can’t let go.

You stood there, a solitary figure dwarfed by the storm, your bravado slowly dissolving as the rain soaked through your clothes. Seeing you like that, shivering and defiant, chipped away at his resolve. He couldn’t understand why he care. He didn’t want to care.

But you irritated him so much, that the line between annoyance and concern became blurred. He slammed on the brakes, the car screeching to a halt. Before he couldn’t think twice, he was out of the car, his boots splashing through the puddles separating you.

He approached you, his jaw clenched tight. He wanted to scream at you, to shake some sense into your stubborn head. But the anger simmered just below the surface, overshadowed by a strange protectiveness he couldn’t explain. He stood in front of you, towering over your rain-soaked form, the unspoken conflict swirling between you thick enough to touch.

“Can you please come in the car now?” He finally managed, his voice rough around the edges. A hint of exasperation lingered, but beneath it, a softer note resonated- concern. Your Lan. “Your clothes are all soaked. I’ll drive you home.”

It wasn’t a question; it was a command, albeit a reluctant one. You sighed, the sound heavy with a concession he wasn’t entirely sure he’d earned.

“Fine,” you mumbled, defeat lacing you voice. “Just because my feet are killing me.”

He rolled his eyes, a flicker of annoyance persisting despite the relief that washed over him. “Then come on”

He extended his hand towards you, a silent invitation. His voice remained gruff, a stark contrast to the turmoil brewing beneath the surface.

“I can go alone,” you challenged, a hint of defiance clinging to your voice.

He rolled his eyes again, exasperation bubbling back up. “Don’t be stubborn. Take my goddamn hand.”

He barked the order, clearly annoyed. His anger, like a storm cloud, was threatening to engulf the fragile truce that had just been established. But the moment your fingers brushed his, a jolt of electricity sit through him, a forgotten memory come alive. Your touch, oh, how he’d missed it. Nothing in the world felt quite as right as the way your hand fit perfectly in his.

He gripped your hand tightly, the warmth seeping through your damp clothes, a silent reassurance in the midst of the storm. His eyes, however, remained stormy, reflecting the inner turmoil he refused to acknowledge. As he walked you back to the car, a grange protectiveness washed over him, a stark contrast to the annoyance that still simmered beneath the surface.

He opened the car door with a flourish, a touch more dramatic than necessary. “Get in,” he mumbled, the gruffness in his voice a mask for the unexpected tenderness he felt. He gently guided you towards the passenger seat, his touch lingering just a moment too long before finally letting go.

Slipping into the car, you stole a glance at him. His jaw was clenched tight, his gaze fixed firmly on the road ahead. A tense silence, descended, broken only by the rhythmic swish of the wipers and the steady hum of the engine.

Despite the anger radiating from him, you couldn’t but feel a flicker of a warmth blossom in your chest. The entire ordeal had been frustrating, a tempestuous dance that left you both breathless and bewildered. His irritation, however, was slowly morphing into something else, a concern he couldn’t quite disguise.

The silence stretched on, thick and suffocating. Finally, you felt compelled to break it. “Thank you,” you whispered, the words barely audible over the rain.

He didn’t respond, his gaze unwavering on the road ahead. You knew he heard you, the slight twitch of his jaw a silent acknowledgement. The air crackled with unspoken tension, a tangled web of emotions caught between the two of you.

After what felt like an eternity, he finally broke the silence, his voice cold and curt. “Don’t thank me,” he muttered, his words clipped. “I just did it so you wouldn’t complain about getting sick later.”

He fell silent again, the car an isolated bubble in the storm outside. But beneath the gruff exterior, a flicker of something more complex flickered in his eyes, a secret he wouldn’t share, not yet.

“Great,” I muttered, the sarcasm dripping from my voice like the rain from the car roof. He glanced at me again in the mirror, his jaw still clenched tight. His grip on the steering wheel was a white-knuckled testament to his simmering frustration.

“You don’t even feel the least bit guilty about how stubborn you were?” He scoffed.

“And you?” I shot back, anger flashing in my eyes. He met my gaze for a fleeting moment, a flicker of confusion clouding his features.

“Me? What about my stubbornness?” He genuinely didn’t seem to understand. How could his actions be construed as anything but helpful? The unfairness of it all gnawed at him, fueling his irritation. He wanted to yell, to unleash the torrent of emotions swirling within him, but the words wouldn’t come.

I rolled my eyes. “Oh, please,” I drawled, the dismissiveness in my tone adding fuel to the fire.

“Don’t ’oh please’ me,” he growled, he stole another glance at me, his expression morphing into a scornful glare.

Silence descended one more, thick and suffocating. He focused on the rain-slicked road ahead.

“Then you shouldn’t have helped me,” I said, my voice laced with a bitterness that mirrored his own.

The anger he’d been struggling to contain flared up, a hot member rekindled. He let out a frustrated sigh.

“I shouldn’t have,” he conceded, the words laced it’s regret. “Now I just regret it because i was stupid enough to think you were sensible enough to realize that someone was trying just to help you…”

He refuses to look at me, the silence reminder of the tangled mess this whole ordeal had become.

“God, you’re so arrogant…” he muttered under his breath, his irritation spiking with every scoff and cold glance you threw his way. “You can’t even admit you were wrong and just stubborn as hell,” he pressed.

“Whatever,” you snapped, the frustration hanging heavily in the air. “Just get me home and that’s it.”

“Fine,” he muttered, his voice tight with barely contained anger. The car fell silent one more, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife.

“And, for the record…” he started after a long pause, his voice low and dangerous. He hesitated, weighting his words carefully. “I hope you catch a cold from the rain.” A childish taunt, but one laced with a deeper meaning.

“Touché..-idiot,” you countered, a sly smile playing on your lips despite your irritation. His words, though mean-spirited, held an undercurrent of concern that you couldn’t ignore.

“Shut up…” he mumbled, his annoyance flaring at your defiance. But beneath the anger, a flicker of relief sparked. He hated the way you got under his skin, the constant back and forth that drove him crazy, yet somehow, it was better than the suffocating silence.

He pulled the car to stop in front of your apartment building, the arrival a bittersweet relief. “Fine.” You spat, flinging open the car door and stepping out onto the rain-slicked sidewalk.

He watch you slam the door shut, the sound echoing through the quiet street. Part of him was glad to see you go, the tension within the car finally released. But another, deeper part, a part he refused to acknowledge, felt a pang of something akin to loneliness at your departure. He wanted to call you back, to follow you inside.

The urge to chase after you was a physical ache in his chest but his stubborn pride, a double-edged sword, wouldn’t allow him to admit defeat. He watched you walk away, your figure growing smaller in the distance, his frown deepening with each step, a heavy sigh escaping his lips. You cast one final glance over your shoulder, your eyes filled with a mixture of anger and something he couldn’t decipher, and you left him alone, alone with the storm outside.

Author’s note: Tysm to everyone who liked the first part of the story. What do you guys think about these two childish idiots? More parts to come ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

Tag list: @persiar9 @mia-rrrs @ssararuffoni @kapsylia

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harmonicakai · 23 hours

Text

As Long As You Care

Part 1 of the "Somebody Else" series

Pairing: Soobin x Reader, Yeonjun x Reader

Summary: From the moment he first met you, Soobin has had the biggest crush on you. The only thing standing in his way is his college roommate, Yeonjun, who you’ve been in love with ever since you were little.

Tropes: love triangle, unrequited love, fake dating, frat boy!yeonjun, nerd!soobin, roommates, college AU, childhood best friends

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: drinking, sexual tension (mdni!), curse words, yj is an asshole

A/N: TBH I feel like this is one of my weakest works so far, but I really like the concept and already have the whole thing planned out, so I will try and see completing it through <3

“If you could see that I'm the one who understands you Been here all along, So why can't you see? You belong with me" —You Belong With Me, Taylor Swift

“If you have a crush on Y/N, then go for it,” Yeonjun laughs, surprised that Soobin would even bother to get his permission, as if he wants your hand in marriage or something.

“Really? You don’t mind?” Soobin blinks back, unsure of whether or not his roommate is being serious. You’ve been friends with Yeonjun since you were little kids, so Soobin figured that running the idea of asking you out by him was surely the right thing to do.

“If you’re worried about whether me and her are more than friends, don’t be. If we were going to start dating, we would’ve when we were in high school. God knows it would’ve made our moms happy.”

“Would you help me then? You know her better than I do,” Soobin continues, eager for tips on how to properly woo you. “Do you know her favorite kind of flowers?”

“Can’t say I do,” Yeonjun shrugs. “Listen, Soob, Y/N is a hopeless romantic. And she’s never even had a boyfriend before. I’m sure whatever you come up with will exceed any and all of her expectations.”

Yeonjun’s excuses for why the moment doesn’t need to be special are precisely why Soobin wants to take so much care in planning things. It would be your first date, first boyfriend, first everything.

Well, except for your first kiss, which Yeonjun had graciously stolen back in middle school, years before he had even introduced you to Soobin. Both of you have asserted that it was only once, and simply for you to get it over with before a school dance in the hopes that your real crush would make a move.

Soobin would be lying to say he doesn’t get jealous of the two of you. Plus, Yeonjun is totally wrong. From what others have said, you’re extremely picky when it comes to guys.

“So, when are you going to ask her?” Yeonjun says, snapping Soobin out of his trance. “She’ll be here any minute if you wanna do it then.”

“She’s coming over now?” Soobin asks, his palms feeling infinitely more sweaty. He hasn’t had any time to do his hair or choose a good outfit, let alone run to the store and pick up any of the little presents he had planned on getting for you.

“We’re going to get breakfast. Some new café she’s been dying to try,” Yeonjun replies, his mouth full of a croissant. Soobin rolls his eyes. If the two of you are about to go out to eat, why the hell is he stuffing his face right now?

Soobin checks his watch. If he leaves now, he’ll surely make it back before the two of you return. “Can you make sure that you guys come here when you’re done?”

“I can make no promises,” Yeonjun sighs, staring at his reflection in the hallway mirror. He throws on a pair of sunglasses, his phone ringing to signal that he’s gotten a text, most likely from you. “Y/N is going to meet me outside. It’s now or never, dude.”

Soobin glances out the window and spots you standing in the courtyard, wearing a floral sundress that hugs you in all the right places. The sunlight shines down on your hair, leaving a glow that makes you look absolutely angelic. He swallows hard.

You’ve made yourself comfortable on a bench just outside, your feet propped up on the arm rest.

“It looks like she’s been waiting a while,” Soobin observes.

“Yeah, I know,” Yeonjun says nonchalantly.

“Shouldn’t you hurry up, then?”

“Why are you asking so many questions?” Yeonjun scoffs. “Since you’re so concerned, I’ve got a date after this, okay? Well, if you can even call it that. Point is, I need to look good, and that takes time.”

“I guess I’ll just ask her another day, then,” Soobin sighs in defeat, backing away from the window. He knows better than to push Yeonjun. “Listen, will you do me a favor?”

“Depends on what it is.” Yeonjun is still admiring himself, now unbuttoning even more of his shirt. He might as well go topless at this point, Soobin thinks to himself.

“Could you maybe mention me and see how Y/N reacts?” Soobin asks, adjusting his glasses.

“I will for 30,000 won,” Yeonjun deadpans, not even bothering to look Soobin’s way.

“Are you joking?”

“No. I don’t care if you guys date, but I certainly won’t be making it easy for you. She’s my friend. If you become her boyfriend and start taking her out, that’s less time she’ll be spending with me.” Sometimes, most of the time, Soobin really hates his roommate.

“You suck,” Soobin says, reaching into his wallet and handing over a few bills. “Here.”

“Pleasure doing business,” Yeonjun grins, pocketing the cash. A knock at the door startles both of them. “Why don’t you get that?”

Soobin heads for the door, knowing you’re on the other side of it. He mentally prepares himself, smoothing his hair into place and checking his breath.

When the door swings open, you’re surprised to see Yeonjun’s roommate staring at you.

“Uh, hi,” you greet him. Soobin holds his breath. You’re even more beautiful up close. “Is Yeonjun ready to go? I’ve been waiting downstairs, for like, ten minutes.”

“I don’t think so,” Soobin says, stepping aside to let you into the dorm’s common room. “You’re welcome to wait, though.”

“Thanks,” you reply, stepping in and spotting your best friend fussing with his hair. “Hi Junie!”

“Hi, Y/N,” Yeonjun smiles. He pulls you into a tight hug. “Sorry to keep you waiting. I didn’t see your texts. I just need a few more minutes, okay?”

Soobin knows his roommate is lying, but he’s not going to be the one to tell you that.

“Oh, yeah, of course,” you say, making yourself comfortable on the couch. You turn your attention to Soobin, who you don’t really know much about. “How’s your morning going, Soobin?”

“It’s good. Great, actually! A little busy, but I like having things to do, you know?”

“Yeah, I get that. What are you up to?”

“Mostly running errands. Then later I have to take some photos of today’s soccer game for the school newspaper, go to jazz band practice, and study for my econ midterm,” he rambles.

“Wow. That’s… a lot.” Your eyes widen, wondering how he manages to juggle that kind of schedule. Sure, you care about extracurriculars too, but never enough to risk burning yourself out.

“Soobin is a real nerd, Y/N. If you ever need a tutor for anything, he’s your guy,” Yeonjun calls from the bathroom.

“Ooh, okay. How are you at multivariable calculus?” you inquire. It’s the class you’ve been struggling with the most this semester.

“Math is unfortunately the one thing I’m bad at,” Soobin admits. He opens his mouth to keep talking, but Yeonjun’s finally returned, at last ready to go.

Soobin watches as Yeonjun’s hand finds yours, pulling you up off the couch before finding its way around your waist. “Let’s head out, babe.”

“Yay! Okay, well, bye, Soobin!” You wave, being pulled along. “I’ll see you around, I guess.”

Yeonjun drags you out the front door before Soobin can even say goodbye, the sweet scent of your perfume lingering in the air behind you.

Soobin waits a few minutes to make sure the two of you won’t be stopping back in before he faceplants onto the couch, letting out a long sigh. At this point, he isn’t sure if he’ll ever have the chance to tell you how he really feels with your “best” friend standing in the way.

—————-

Soobin’s heart nearly beats out of his chest the second he lays his eyes on you. You’re wearing the same sundress from earlier today, but this time without the slouchy cardigan draped over your shoulders, and your hair is thrown into a perfectly messy updo. To top it all off, you’ve got glitter dusted along your neck and collarbone, making you shimmer under the glow of the frat’s neon lights.

He wants nothing more than to lean down and kiss it all off of you. The only issue is that you’re surrounded by a ton of other partygoers who probably all want to do the same.

You’re the only reason he even bothered to come to this party and he might not even get the chance to talk to you. He may not have been of any help this morning, but at least Yeonjun was decent enough to text Soobin and let him know the two of you would be here tonight.

“Soob! I didn’t think you’d actually come!” Yeonjun’s voice startles him as he claps his roommate on the shoulders from behind, his hands still wet from swimming in the pool. Soobin jerks back, nearly spilling the contents of his red solo cup.

“She looks hot, doesn’t she?” Yeonjun continues, glancing past him to see you twirling your hair as you gently let another guy know he has no chance with you. Soobin hates it when he talks about you this way, even if it’s true. “Did you tell her you’re in love with her yet?”

“We haven’t even talked,” Soobin says, his voice barely reaching above the music’s blast. He stares down at his white sneakers, sticky from the spilled drinks and god knows what else is lining the frat’s linoleum floors. “Did you do what I asked you to, by the way?”

“Shit, sorry, man. I totally forgot. But you know what? Maybe we can change your luck,” Yeonjun smiles, feeling a bit sorry for his lovesick roommate. “Me and a few other people are gonna start a game of spin the bottle in the next room if you want to try and kiss her.”

It’s the opportunity of a lifetime. Except when you spin the bottle and it glides past him, landing instead on Yeonjun, Soobin’s heart plummets into his stomach.

You lean past him with a shy smile on your face, wrapping your arms around your best friend’s neck as he pulls you into the steamiest kiss Soobin has ever seen. It’s enough to make him wonder if maybe the two of you have done this more than just once.

Despite being over in seconds, it feels like hours to Soobin. To make matters worse, when you pull away, your lips wet with Yeonjun’s saliva, you wave at him with the most gorgeous smile in the world.

“Sorry, man,” Yeonjun whispers to Soobin, running a hand through his hair, messed up from where your fingers were just laced through it. “Maybe next round.”

If Soobin could fight, he would’ve certainly thrown a punch straight into his roommate’s jaw. But even though he towers over him by a few good inches, he knows that he’d be out like a light and wake up with a black eye that’ll truly never let him forget about this moment.

When it’s finally his turn, it lands on a girl just a few spots over from you and he does his best not to look disappointed. She’s pretty, for sure, but she’s not you. Soobin plants a quick kiss on her lips and the crowd groans.

“More!” an unfamiliar voice chants. The rest of the players join in, although all Soobin can pinpoint is the sound of you nearby, egging him on to make out with another girl.

He relents, enough alcohol in his system to finally let loose, pulling the girl into a fast, sloppy kiss. The crowd shifts to whooping and hollering, and he sees you giggling with one of your girl friends out of the corner of his eye.

It isn’t until the two of you watch as Yeonjun gropes that same friend seconds after the bottle lands on her that Soobin notices a shift in your mood. Your once everlasting smile has been replaced with a blank stare that unmistakably signals heartbreak.

Soobin would know. He was making the same face just a few minutes ago.

Eventually, the game fizzles out and everybody disperses back into the frat’s crowd, still going strong despite being hours in.

After wandering around the party for a while, Soobin spots you at the keg, frustratedly pouring yourself another beer. From the way you’re stumbling, he knows it’s probably not a good idea for you to actually drink it.

“Hey, wait,” he intervenes, grabbing the plastic cup out of your hand. “Y/N. Maybe you should slow down.”

“Fuck off,” you scoff before turning to see who’s interrupted your binge. Your cheeks heat up at the sight of Soobin, Yeonjun’s roommate. He usually never comes to these things and has only ever been really, really nice to you. “Soobin. I am so, so sorry. I’m just going through it right now.”

“I can see that. Do you want to get some fresh air?”

“Yes, please.” He loops his arm around yours and guides you outside, making sure that you don’t trip on any uneven steps or loose cans.

If it were Yeonjun, he’d carry you bridal style, letting you nuzzle your head into his shoulder until you reached your dorm room.

“You can have some of mine,” Soobin says, handing over his drink as you steady yourself against the porch’s railing. “It’s just Sprite.”

You nod and gulp the entire cup of soda down, the bubbles tickling your dry throat.

“You’re jealous, aren’t you?” Soobin continues, catching you off guard. You turn to stare at him, eyes wide before you fix your expression to something more nonchalant.

“No, I’m not.” He looks back at you with a frown, letting you know that he’s seen just enough tonight to not believe any of what you’re saying. Soobin doesn’t seem like the kind of person you’d want to lie to, anyway.

“Fine, maybe just a little bit,” you admit, crossing your arms in defeat. “I mean, in general, how are girls like me supposed to compete with girls like her?”

“Lots of guys would kill to be with a girl like you. She’s just more… straightforward.” You can tell he can’t actually come up with a better explanation for why his roommate isn’t into you.

“I kissed him the way I’ve been wanting to for years now. I don’t know how much more straightforward I can get. You know, last week, I asked if there was anything going on between the two of them and he told me she wasn’t his type?”

“Who isn’t Yeonjun’s type?” Soobin laughs awkwardly, regret immediately settling on his face as he realizes he probably shouldn’t have said that. He’s right and you know it, though.

“Please tell me they aren’t making out right now,” you change the subject, hoping and praying that the answer is no.

Soobin glances over his shoulder back into the party to see Yeonjun and your friend entangled, his hands gripping her hips as she grinds into him. “He’s… certainly doing something to her.”

“Wow. Okay, that’s all I needed to hear.” You walk past Soobin to stare at Yeonjun and your friend all over each other. It’s a horrifying scene, but for some reason, you can’t tear your eyes away. “You know, I’d hate to see how he is with a girl he’s actually into. Men really suck sometimes.”

“Y/N, look at me,” Soobin says, his voice the steadiest its been all night.

“Huh?” you ask in confusion. Soobin turns you back around, his hand reaching up to brush a strand of hair from your face. It trembles against your cheek as he leans in close to you.

“We can get back at him,” he whispers, both of your heart rates rising by the second. His breath is hot against your ear. “If you want to.”

You can’t believe the words that have just come out of his mouth. Choi Soobin, Yeonjun’s sweet roommate who has only ever spoken to you in the most polite and platonic way, is offering to help you make your best friend jealous.

Your silence makes him backtrack, the panic in his voice evident. He really has no clue what’s gotten into him. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I was just joking! I didn’t actually mean—”

“Let’s do it,” you say, cutting him off. Before he can protest, you’re pulling him back into the frat house and onto the middle of the dance floor, right next to Yeonjun.

Soobin can barely believe this is happening right now, and if his arms weren’t wrapped around your waist, he’d pinch himself.

Usually, you keep to yourself at parties, kindly entertaining men’s advances, but never giving them the satisfaction of dancing with you. Tonight, you’re breaking all of your own self-imposed rules with the guy you least expected to.

“Kiss me,” you say into his ear, loud enough to fight the music’s volume, but quiet enough for Yeonjun not to hear. Soobin looks at you with sheer panic on his face and you know immediately that he’s incapable of making the first move.

At least that’s what you think before he crashes his lips onto yours. Despite watching him awkwardly make out with someone else earlier, he’s surprisingly good at kissing. There’s a hunger to the way he grabs your waist and pulls you closer that makes you smile into him.

As you feel his soft hair beneath your fingertips, you almost forget why you’re kissing him in the first place. When you finally separate, you turn to see Yeonjun staring at the two of you, a sly grin on his face that makes you question if you’ve made the right decision.

—————-

“That was so humiliating,” you groan, trudging down the sidewalk. Soobin trails you like a puppy dog. “He was happy for us. So much for making him jealous. You know, maybe we should just call this whole thing off now.”

“No!” Soobin panics. “I, uh, I have an idea.”

“Which is?” you say, stopping to look at him. You can tell by the way he stares blankly at you that he doesn’t actually have an answer.

“Well… if we keep this up, then Yeonjun will see how great of a girlfriend you are and he’ll want you for himself! Really, we’ve just gotta give it more time.”

Your head aches, but Soobin does make a little bit of sense. “Fine, okay. How long are you willing to put up with me for?”

Soobin knows he can’t say forever. “Why don’t we try until the end of the semester? If he doesn’t confess his love to you by then, then we’ll stage a break up.”

“Sounds like a deal,” you say, reaching out your hand to shake. Soobin hesitates. “I don’t have cooties, you know. Besides, your tongue was kind of just down my throat back there.”

“Right, sorry,” Soobin says, taking your hand into his. It’s much bigger than you expected, nearly covering yours in its entirety. “Deal.”

“Come on,” you say, continuing your trek back to your dorm. “Let’s go.”

“My room is the other way,” he attempts to remind you. You don’t even bother to look back at him, wanting to get out of the cold and into your bed.

“We’re going to mine. Yeonjun is never going to believe we’re together if he catches you in your own bed tonight.”

—————-

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P.S.: Please shoot me an ask or a reply if you’d like to be added to (or removed from) the taglist! Also, I struggle to keep up with different lists for individual members, but if you really don't want to be tagged on all of my works, just let me know and I will do my best to keep things separate <3

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spidermans-l-o-v-e-r · 1 day

Text

Growing Pains

Pairing: Eddie x Reader

Word count: 2.2k

Notes: I’m gonna cry they don’t need to be THIS ATTRACTIVE, also boy did I NOT edit this 🥹🥹🥹 what a lovely lil request from my bestie who you know in this moment I’m realizing I don’t remember how to spell your user I’m sorry I love you 🤣🤣🤣 okay I checked it’s @chihard20

The day started out normal, waking up snuggled in Eddie’s arms as he nuzzled your neck. He was always affectionate in the mornings, too sleepy to really want anything but you.

“Mornin’ Gorgeous” He mumbles into your neck, his hands trailing down your sides until they reach your hips. His fingers splay out over your plush body as he guides you on top of him. You giggle into him, rolling your eyes as you sit up. He likes when your hair is all messy like that after waking up

“Good morning baby” You grin, your hands sliding over his torso before planting them firmly on his chest. He grins wickedly at the way your back arches, blushing a little in the process as you start to roll your hips in slow circles. He smirks, sliding his hands back up your sides and squeezing lightly

“Ow!” You flinch away from his touch, and he stops immediately, sitting up

“Y/N? Hey… what’s wrong?” He feels your sides again, this time a little slower and you wince when his hands flow over a certain spot. He lifts your shirt and looks, there’s a bruise there, and it’s hot to the touch.

“What the hell is this??” He asks, his voice dripping with worry. He pushes your hair gently out of your face and you lean into his touch

“Okay wait wait don’t worry, Buck and I were working out yesterday and he got me in the side. It was a total accident I forgot about it”

He rolls his eyes, pulling you in carefully to kiss you “Remind me to kick his ass when I see him” you giggle and kiss him back, your lips moving slowly against his

“Will do”

Eddie painstakingly tells you he doesn’t want to have sex, and you’re snickering through it the entire time he’s trying to reassure you. It’s not that he doesn’t want it, he just doesn’t want to hurt you or anything. You begrudgingly accept his reasoning and get out of bed.

He takes his time in a very…very cold shower, cursing Buck with every pass of the loofah on his skin and you take that time to get washed up. You stare in the mirror, you look a little pale… a little tired. Huh maybe you just didn’t get enough sleep? Eddie was… enthusiastic last night to say the least. You just decide to shrug it off and finish getting ready for work.

After a busy breakfast and goodbye kisses to Chris, you’re both out the door, Buck is actually on time for once and you climb into the jeep.

“Thanks a lot cock block” Eddie mumbles as soon as his seatbelt is on and you snort loudly, holding your side lightly

“Don’t make me laugh! It hurts!”

“What do you mean cock block. I specifically did not call you this morning because I know y’all get it on every five seconds!!”

“You hurt her side! I couldn’t…. You know when she’s hurting like that. What kind of a man would I be!” Eddie frowns at him, crossing his arms over his chest

Buck looks at you in the rear view mirror “Damn, I didn’t think I hit you that hard Y/N, I’m really sorry.”

You shrug your shoulders, the pain is starting to flare up a little more so you adjust your seatbelt to not be over it.

“Hey it’s okay! It truly was an accident Buck, don’t worry about Mr. Horndog he’ll get over it”

You and Buck spend the rest of the ride teasing Eddie and laughing at him and he threatens to break up with the both of you. He slouches down in his chair, his arms crossed and pouting like a little kid. It’s impossible for you and Buck to not laugh at him.

It isn’t until a couple hours into your shift you start sweating. It’s not unbearably hot like it could be in L.A so maybe it’s just a you problem. You sit in the break area with a fan in front of you, your head laying on the cool table, you don’t realize your eyes were closed until someone’s hand is on your back, rubbing soothing circles to rise you.

“Hey Y/N, Cap wants you to…” Chim looks at you, you look worse than you feel which is pretty hard to achieve right now.

“Eddie?? Hey Eddie come up here, quick!!” Chim calls over the railing before coming back to stand by you. He gets down on one knee, pushing your sweaty hair off your forehead

“Hey… hey kiddo what’s going on?” He asks you softly and you look at him, your eyes a little hazy.

“Chim?” You say softly, you move your head slowly to the sound of Eddie’s footsteps as he jogs over

“Baby?? Y/N what’s going on” He repeats the question and you look at him with those same hazy eyes. He looks worried sick. You can see the panic behind the mask. You try to push yourself up slowly, but curl back up in a ball, crying out in pain and holding your sides

Chimney gets up from the floor, running to the railing “Call an ambulance!! Hen we need you, bring your med pack”

Buck holds back Eddie, standing in front of him as you’re laid out on the floor. Hen needs room to assess you and Eddie can barely give it to her

“Hey, she’s gonna be fine, it’s gonna be okay” Buck says softly, holding his arms, he’s just as nervous. His hands are shaking and Eddie looks at him, taking a deep breath and nodding. He pushes Buck to the side but puts his arm around him too. He knows how much Buck loves you and he knows Buck is probably freaking out thinking he caused this.

“It looks like appendicitis” Hen says, looking up at the boys.

“Oh thank god. I thought I killed her. I can’t go to jail! I’m too pretty for jail!”

You wheeze with laughter but stiffen and hold your side again, Eddie whacks Buck’s torso

“Don’t make her laugh!”

The ambulance comes in record time and you’re loaded into it. Eddie gets in back, holding your hand tightly and kisses your knuckles softly. The team promises they’ll come to the hospital after their shift and Buck swears he’ll take care of Chris.

The ride there is a bit slower, and Eddie looks like he’s going to have an anxiety attack

“I’m stable. Stop worrying” your words are short puffs of air and Eddie lays his forehead on your arm

“God you scared me… you are scaring me” He whispers to you, can’t this thing go any faster?

“This happens to a hundred million billion people Eddie” your voice is soft “I’m gonna be okay”

“I’m not dating a hundred million billion people, I’m dating you. I’m loving you.”

Your heart flutters when he says that, you sniffle a little and he wipes away your tears.

“I love you too” you whisper back, closing your eyes slowly to rest

“…I love you guys too” Adam the paramedic wipes away a fake tear and you snicker, wincing and groaning in pain but it’s just too stupid not to laugh

“Don’t make her laugh!!!”

Buck is in the waiting room when Eddie is told he has to be there. His head snaps up and he gets up from his chair, Eddie hugs him tightly, patting him on the back

“What are you doing here?? I thought you were gonna watch Chris?”

“Isabel dropped by, and forced me out of the house” he chuckles, pulling away from Eddie.

“Said you shouldn’t be alone…Chris begged me to give this to Y/N, how could I refuse that face?”

Eddie sits in a chair and Buck plops down next to him, he passes him a piece of construction paper, Chris made a get well card, it’s got a picture of the two of them on the front cover. Eddie holds it, looking through it. God he couldn’t lose you, he should have been more serious about it earlier, maybe if he’d just asked a few more questions-

The card is snatched from his hands and he snaps out of it, Buck shakes it out. Eddie hadn’t even realized he was crying.

“There was nothing you could have done in the time you were with her to figure out it was appendicitis” He says firmly, giving Eddie no room to even fight it.

The wait isn’t long, two hours or so but it feels like so much longer to Eddie. He paces back and forth for a bit, before Buck gets up and trades places with him

“I’ll take a turn” he jokes a little and Eddie smiles sadly at him. Just glad he’s not alone anymore. He watches Buck pace slowly, breathing in time with his steps. He’s slouched in the chair, his arms crossed. He’d been in the same position this morning for more fun reasons and he wishes he could just go back to that.

“Mr. Diaz?” A doctor in scrubs comes out, taking off his bandanna. He sighs but smiles wearily at him. Eddie jumps out of his chair

“Is she okay? Please tell me she’s alive”

His voice cracks at the end of the sentence and Buck walks over, putting his arm around Eddie’s shoulders

“I’m Doctor Pascal. Of course she’s alive Mr. Diaz. She’s perfectly fine” He puts his hand on his arm and reassures him, a look of worry on his face

“Are you okay?” He asks, looking him over. Eddie is a wreck if he’s being honest. He nods fast, wiping the tears from his face

“I’m okay I’m fine. Can I see her? Can we see her?? Please”

Doctor Pascal gives Eddie another once over before nodding

“Yeah, yeah you can see her. But we only allow immediate family back there… so?” He looks at Buck kindly

“Oh I’m her boyfriend, he’s her husband”

Buck says it so calmly and smoothly, like he’s absolutely rehearsed this moment and was so ready for it

“Oh uh” Doctor Pascal just shrugs his shoulders “Follow me gentlemen”

Buck gives Eddie his biggest, shiniest smile and for the first time all afternoon Eddie laughs.

As soon as they all get to the room Buck is at your side, dramatically pushing Eddie out of the way, it makes you giggle and he cups your face in his hands, peppering little kisses all over

“Hi baby” he coos softly “It’s daddy Buck”

You snort and push his chest away, Eddie stands very still at the end of your bed, you look over to him, reaching your hand out weakly. You’re seeing two of him from the killer pain meds they gave you… but that just means you can see two equally as panicked faces

“I’m alive, Edmundo. I’m here” you say steadily and Buck kind of tugs him around the bed, joining your hands.

He finally snaps out of it, kicking off his shoes and climbing into bed with you. Dr. Pascal’s head snaps up from the computer

“Mr. Diaz wait you-“

Buck runs to the other side of the bed and helps you move over some, enough for Eddie to fit next to you. You wrap your arms around him so tightly, squeezing him as close as you can. You can feel tears falling onto your chest as you stroke his back, shushing him softly. He clings to you like his life depends on it and you understand that it probably does in this moment

“Just. Be careful with her okay?” Dr. Pascal scolds Eddie, who just nods slowly and gives him a thumbs up. The doctor leaves the room and you continue to stroke back, your hand trails up his neck and you start to play with his hair

“Daddy Buck?” You ask him, and you feel Eddie snicker into your neck

“I told Dr. Pascal I was your boyfriend and he was your husband

“You’ve been waiting to do that for so long how did it feel”

“Pretty triumphant not gonna lie”

You turn back to Eddie now, he finally pulls his face from your neck

“Hi”

He kisses you softly, it takes a second for your fuzzy brain before your lips respond to his, he slips off your heart monitor and holds it out to Buck who rolls his eyes and puts it on his own finger.

Eddie’s hand moves slowly over your body just feeling you. His hand settles on your chest right over your heartbeat and you smile softly, pulling away and taking his hand, kissing his palm

“Are you okay now?” You ask quietly and he sighs, nodding slowly

“I’m so glad you’re okay… I haven’t been that scared in a long time.”

“I know baby…but I’m okay now alright? I just have to heal”

“And I promise I’ll wait on you hand and foot. You won’t have to lift a finger” he kisses your forehead

“Hey! I’ll even stay over and watch Chris so you can take care of her” Buck offers, as he messes around on the computer

Eddie swats him away from the computer and you giggle

“Thanks Buck” He says sarcastically, but he means it, honestly.

“Hey it’s the least I can do for my partners!”

“Oh my god we’re not actually-“

Buck slaps his hand over Eddie’s mouth

“Do you want them to find out and kick me out?!”

#words by rhys #eddie diaz #eddie diaz x reader #evan buckley #9 1 1 #9 1 1 abc #9 1 1 fanfiction #911 x reader #causally writes this as if I don’t have an entire series going on #*hyena laughing*

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fics-and-quotes-andthelike · 1 day

Note

Hello, I miss the show and everyonez writtings help keep the essence of it going. What if: x and Sam lose Dean as in the show and they fight their feelings as to not betray Dean but atlas the give in and little Dean is born. Just a thought. Thank u.

Or Dean meeting his gf parents for the 1st time, that be cute.

Always You

Pairing: Dean Winchester x reader

Word Count: ~2,058

In which Dean meets the reader’s parents for the first time.

A/N: This has been in my inbox for wayyyy too long and I’d like to give a formal apology for that. It's a short fic, but I hope you enjoy it!!

Relationships between hunters didn’t last forever. It was something that all hunters knew, which is why relationships were something that most hunters avoided. It was an unspoken rule.

Dean Winchester had never been a fan of rules.

At the moment though, he couldn’t help but wish that he had followed the rules. If he had, maybe he wouldn’t be in this situation, on one of his most important missions yet.

Meeting his girlfriend’s parents.

He looked in the mirror, frowning at his reflection. He was wearing his usual flannel button up and pants, his hair a bit mussed.

You had insisted that the gathering was completely casual, and that your parents would like it a lot better if he showed up as himself instead of playing a part to try and impress them. But as he continued looking himself over, he couldn’t help but start to second guess your judgment, even if he knew by now that you were always right.

He heard the door to his room open, his eyes finding yours in the mirror. You were dressed in casual clothes as well, a simple shirt and pants, looking more at ease and comfortable than he’d seen you in a while.

Not to say that you were never at ease. But most days, the two of you were in your hunter gear, or at least carrying concealed weapons on you. Even when you had a day without hunting, when you posed as regular civilians, you had a look of caution in your eyes and a hand near your knife. You were never really at rest, even when you were asleep, with one hand on the gun under your pillow. But today, he silently thanked your parents for inviting the two of you over if it meant he could see you in a calm state for a few hours.

You smiled lightly as you looked him up and down. “You ready?”

He shook his head, still looking at you in the mirror. “You sure I shouldn’t show up in a suit?”

You laughed as you walked up behind him and wrapped your arms around his waist, your chin resting lightly on his shoulder. “No way, they’d think you were totally pretentious. And kind of a jerk.”

“We’re hunters, being pretentious is part of the job.”

“Maybe with regular civilians, yeah. But not with each other.”

Dean’s eyes softened and he turned, gathering you up in his arms. Being a hunter had taken everything from him. His friends, his family, and even his brother more than a few times. It had taken you too, once.

He gripped you tighter. Those few months without you had been absolute torture. He’d gotten more reckless, more aggressive. He’d tried to push Sam away, and isolate himself from the rest of the world. But Sam hadn’t let Dean give up on you. The two of them had worked tirelessly to find a way to get you back.

Multiple failed attempts had worn Dean out quickly. But Sam never tired, and never quit. He knew he would have given anything to get Jess back, and he wouldn’t let the same thing happen to his brother.

And then one day, their efforts paid off.

Dean snapped out of his thoughts as you pulled back. You tilted your head, looking up at him with concern. “You okay?”

Dean smiled, leaning down to press his lips to yours. “Yeah, I’m alright. You ready?”

You nodded, a grin spreading across your face. “I’m ready.” You walked towards the door before turning back to look at Dean, a smile on your face. “You coming, Winchester?”

He grinned. “Lead the way.”

~~~

The two of you stood side by side, Dean tense and rigid. You looked over at him and nudged him gently. “You’re going to do great. You brought me back to life, remember? Literally. They already love you for that.”

Dean nodded stiffly as the door in front of them opened. He immediately relaxed his stance and watched as a big smile broke out over your mom’s face.

She stepped forward and held you in her arms tightly, tears streaming down her face. She pulled back and brushed your hair away from your face. “My baby, my baby,” she mumbled as she pulled you in again to pepper kisses across your face.

You laughed and pulled back against her grip. “Nice to see you too, mom.” You turned towards your boyfriend and motioned towards him. “This is Dean.”

Your mom smiled gently. “Hello, Dean.”

Dean plastered on a charming grin, reaching out a hand politely. “Nice to meet-”

He cut off as your mom stepped forward and embraced him, her arms wrapped tightly around him.

Dean froze.

It had been so long since someone other than you or Sam had given him any time of physical affection. It was…..nice. He could feel a warmth in his heart. A warmth that felt almost familiar. One that he hasn’t felt in a very long time.

He slowly wrapped his arms around your mom, allowing the tension to slowly ease out of him.

Your mom held him tighter. “Thank you,” she whispered. “For bringing her back.” She pulled back and set a light hand on his cheek before nodding and turning away.

She grabbed onto your hand and started to pull you inside the house. “Hurry up, you two, before the food gets cold.”

~~~

Dean steadied himself against the bathroom sink, his fingers clutching on to the edge so tightly that they were turning white.

He had expected many things when he had come to your house, and had even prepared for many worst case scenarios. Maybe the group of you would be ambushed by demons, or jumped by angels. Maybe your parents would hate him and he’d never be able to show his face in front of them again.

What he hadn’t expected, though, was for your parents to be so kind.

After your mom had dragged the two of you into the house, you had been engulfed in another hug by your dad, his eyes wet and his grip tight even as you laughed and reassured him that you were here, and you were okay, and you were alive.

When he had finally let go, your father had turned his eyes on Dean, straightening up and walking forward purposefully. Dean reached out a hand once again. “Nice to meet you, Mr. -”

For the second time in only a few minutes, Dean was cut off and pulled into a warm embrace. Your father was silent, but his hug was warm and strong, one of his hands on the back of Dean’s neck, almost as though he were cradling him gently.

The warm feeling was filling Dean’s heart again, but this time, he could remember where he recognized it from. It was the same feeling that he’d gotten every time Bobby would pull him into a hug after a bad hunt. It was the feeling he’d gotten when Bobby had taken him out to be a regular boy for a few hours when his dad was off on a hunt. It was a feeling of safety and security.

It was a feeling that he’d thought he’d never have again.

As soon as he’d been released, Dean had excused himself and asked for directions to the bathroom, pretending that he didn’t see your worried expression as he hurried away.

Now, as he braced himself against the bathroom sink, he couldn’t help but curse under his breath. What was he doing? He was Dean freaking Winchester. He’d killed vampires and ghosts, fought angels and demons, and crawled back from Hell itself. So why was it so hard for him to face your parents?

He took a deep breath, releasing his death grip on the sink and stepping back, looking up at himself in the mirror. It was only for a few hours. He could handle this for a few hours.

A light knock sounded at the door, causing Dean’s head to swivel quickly. He ignored his pounding heart as he walked towards the door and opened it, coming face to face with you, a worried smile on your face.

“Hey,” you said, your eyes scanning his face for any indication of what was bothering him. “You okay?”

Dean forced a smile on his face, nodding once and giving you a wink. “You couldn’t stay away from me for more than a minute, huh?”

You tilted your head, still staring. You’d been worried that something like this would happen. You had voiced your concerns to Sam just yesterday, asking if maybe introducing him to your loving and huggy parents was a bad idea, since Dean was the first to admit that he wasn’t big on ‘mushy crap’.

Sam had understood what you were really asking almost immediately. “It’s definitely been a while since he’s had to do something like this,” Sam admitted. “But I think it’ll be good for him to finally feel like a part of something like this again.”

You had smiled softly. “He already has that with us.”

Sam had smiled back at you, choosing to wrap you up in a tight embrace instead of responding.

Now, though, you couldn’t help but with that you��d listened to your anxious mind and kept Dean far away from your parents.

His eyes were darting behind you, as though afraid that your parents would walk in and see him in this state. You pretended not to notice his nervous glances as you reached a hand up and gently cupped his cheek. “We can leave if you’re ready. I’ll say that Gar called with a new hunt.”

Dean pulled back, a mask falling over his face as he gave you another infamous Winchester smile. “You kidding? I can smell the pie from here. Come on, let’s go,” he said as he grabbed one of your hands and gently pulled you forward.

You dug your heels into the ground. “Dean.”

You waited until he turned to face you, a grimace taking the place of his false smile.

“The fact that you even tried,” you said as you took a step forward. “Means the world to me. You mean the world to me. If you want to head out, that’s okay. Honest.” You tilted your head again, a smile slowly forming on your lips. “And if you want to stay, I promise to let you eat all the pie you want. My mom is a gracious server.”

Dean let out a slow exhale at your words. You could practically see his mind working, trying to come up with a solution that would be beneficial for the both of you. Not that you wouldn’t support whatever decision he made. Spending time with your boyfriend without an angry Spirit chasing after you was already a perfect day in your book.

After a moment, Dean looked back down at you, the corner of his lips twitching. “All the pie I want, huh?”

Your smile grew. “And I won’t even tell Sam.”

Dean stared into your eyes, his heart slowing and the fear in his chest dissipating. And he was hit once again with a fact that he always seemed to forget in the face of his hardest battles. He could face anything, as long as he was with you.

The hunter exhaled slowly as you looked up at him with love in your eyes. “Well, how can I turn down an offer like that?” Dean asked with a grin. He reached out and grasped your hand gently, pulling you after him as he made his way back into the dining room.

Maybe this wouldn’t be as easy as he had hoped. Maybe it would be one of the hardest things he’d ever done. But as Dean looked back at you, joy and hope in your eyes, he knew that he would go through it over and over again if it made you happy.

You met his eyes, a spark of amusement dancing over your features. “I knew I could win you over with pie,” you said, a laugh bubbling out of your throat.

It wasn’t the pie, Dean wanted to say as the two of you entered the dining room. Your parents greeted the two of you with broad smiles and plates full of food. It was you.

Always you.

41 notes · View notes

bisexualiteaa · 3 days

Text

Ghoulish Kinda Love

John Hancock x Ghoul!Fem Reader (SMUT!! and some fluff!)

CW: NSFW MDNI!! ghoul reader, chem usage, alcohol use, talks of discrimination, p in v, p0rn w/ some plot, slow burn, FEELINGS! Fingering, oral, (fem receiving) short handjob, unprotected sex, ghoul sex, riding, irradiated cream pie, cursing, fluffy ending, potential spelling/grammar errors, slight deviance from game

AN: I’m back partying people! Thank you to those who have put requests in regarding our charismatic ghoul companion Hancock! Been itching to write something for him and give him a little more love because there isn’t a lot out there for my boy Hancock, and he deserves all the love. ❤️ We won’t talk about the way I’d go to write this and each time I would, a sign telling me I need to “repent for my sins” would come up along the road lmao. 😭 Anyway, enjoy some fluffy smutty action with our man Hancock! Please go easy, I’m still relatively new to all things Fallout so if I goof up some stuff from the game, I do apologize, I’m still learning! But otherwise I do hope y’all enjoy! 🥰

Also I don’t own the rights to any music here, but there are a few songs if you’d like to enjoy them along with the moment for a more immersive experience!

You didn’t remember much from your life before the bombs dropped on that horrifically fateful day. You vaguely remember the taste of pie when you would bake it, or Mac ‘n cheese back when it was made with clean water and fresh hot off the burner. You even more vaguely remember the days of dressing really nice, now it was all you could to find something that was concealing enough to hide who you had become wandering along the commonwealth aimlessly. There was once purpose in your journey, once meaning behind it but not anymore, at least not one you could remember. Two hundred years is a long time to live, a lot of memories to hold, and when you’re spending a lot of that time trying to keep from turning feral it’s even harder to remember the trivial things like life without radiation exposure. It pained your heart to think about, to look at yourself in a mirror or your reflection in a passing puddle of radiated water. One thing you do remember is looking beautiful once upon a time, your once E/C eyes having turned a hazy black, your H/L, H/C having long since fallen out. Hell, the most noticeable part was that your nose was completely missing now, your leathery marred skin a sickly grey making you look like a walking corpse. You hated looking upon yourself now that you were a ghoul, you had been for a little over a century now, but it still always caught you by surprise.

t was one day upon your blind stumbling that you had entered a town called Goodneighbor, your bandana covering your face and large hat on to keep the fact that you were a ghoul slightly harder to point out lest it be anything like Diamond City was. You found out the hard way that day that a lot of places don’t take kindly to ghouls, and whether you were feral or not they tended not to want to chance it. You were just going to stroll through, minding your own business when a man stopped you on your way in. “Hey, hold up there. First time in Goodneighbor? Can’t go walkin’ around without insurance” spoke the gruff voice of a man who had just lit a cigarette in front of you, speaking with it sticking from the corner of his mouth before removing it and blowing the smoke in your direction. Asshole. “Unless it’s keep-dumb-assholes-away-from-me insurance, I’m not interested” you stated, and he didn’t quite like the tone you were catching. “Now don’t be like that, I think you’re gonna like what I have on offer” he replied, making you roll your eyes at his persistence. Here we go. “You hand over everything you got in them pockets or “accidents” start happening to ya. Big, bloody, accidents” he threatened, and you didn’t take too kindly to it but by now, you were used to the casual threat being thrown your way, especially as a ghoul. You heard a gravely voice from off in the distance, almost as if he had just appeared from the alleyway between the buildings in behind the man haggling you. “Woah woah, now time out” the man spoke, wearing a black tri-corn hat and a stark red jacket with a white dress shirt underneath. What really caught you by surprise? He was a ghoul. “someone steps through the gate the first time, they’re a guest. You lay off the extortion crap” he finished, walking towards the man haggling you and the man almost seemed to meet him halfway as if he knew him. All you could do was stand there in awe. Holy shit, he was defending you, no one ever did that. “What’d you care? She ain’t one of us” the man spoke, his cigarette smoke still lingering in your nostrils from when he’d blown it in your face. “No love for your mayor, Finn? I said let her go” the ghoul said, standing his ground. Wait…did he say mayor? He was the mayor of this town? As a ghoul?? You were so flabbergasted to imagine such a thing, your kind were so hated, you could never have thought of a town being accepting enough to be run by a ghoul. Although you could tell by the body language this man in particular didn’t really care for the mayor, they looked as if they were getting ready to have a stand off. “You’re soft Hancock. You keep letting outsiders walk all over us, one day there’ll be a new mayor” the man, Finn countered. “Come on man, this is me we’re talkin about. Let me tell ya somethin’…” the ghoul, Hancock said, walking closer to Finn, looking as if he was stretching his hand out to place it on Finn’s shoulder but instead, reached for a knife, stabbing your haggler repeatedly in the stomach until he dropped to the ground at his feet. You were in shock, you’d seen people killed before, heck you’ve killed people yourself before because it was a kill or be killed kinda world out here, but never in the time you spent as a ghoul had anyone ever killed for you.

“Now why’d you have to go and say that, huh? Breakin’ my heart here” Hancock said to the man before looking to you. “You alright, sister?” He asked. “Your face…it’s like mine” was unfortunately all you could say, bringing your bandana down to show him. “Ya like it? I think it gives me a sexy, king of the zombies kinda look. Big hit with the ladies” he said flirtatiously, his voice dipping a little lower, bringing out the gravely rasp to his tone and if you could blush still, you would have. You gave a smile and a giggle, enjoying his take on ghoulification. “I’m a ghoul, something I see we share. Lot of walkin’ rad freaks like us around here” he said, and you felt guilty for pointing it out and not thanking him first, but his next words put a warmth in your heart to hear. “Goodneighbor’s of the people, for the people, you feel me? Everyone’s welcome” he said, and that made you smile because never had you been some place where you felt so welcome for being who you were. “Of the people, for the people? Oh brother…” you joked sarcastically, making him laugh. “I can tell I’m gonna like you already. Just consider this town your home away from home…so long as you remember who’s in charge” he said before starting to walk off, but you were so curious, had so many questions needing answers to, so you bothered and stopped him.

“What can I do for ya, newcomer?” He asked happily, making you almost clam up when you went to speak but you cleared your throat, working through your anxiety. “What’s your story, Hancock?” You asked kindly yet curiously. “My favorite subject. I came into this town about…a decade ago? Had a smooth set of skin back then. While I was busy making myself a pillar of the community, I would go on these…like…wild tears. I was young; any chems I could find, the more exotic the better. Finally found this experimental radiation drug, only one of its kind left, and only one hit” he said, and his story had you intrigued. “Oh man, the high was so worth it. Yeah I’m livin’ with the side effects but hey, what’s not to love about immortality?” He asked, making you chuckle. “Got its perks, its downsides too but hey, glad to finally see someone enjoyin’ it” you said, making him chuckle. “All that chem use definitely prepared you for a career in politics…” you quipped wittily, making him chuckle. “People respect me because I don’t put myself above them. I sling and shoot up just like the next guy” he said, and you respected that. “Hey, no judgement! I respect that” you replied. “Can you tell me more about this town of yours, Goodneighbor?” You asked. “It’s all about the people, understand? They’re freaks, misfits, and troublemakers and that’s why I love ‘em. Everyone here lives their own life, their own way. No judgements” he said proudly, making you smile happily to find yourself welcomed to such a wonderful place. It wasn’t anything crazy big or crazy busy, it was quaint and sweet, felt like home and that was a hard feeling to come by these days. This was the first time you’d ever been anywhere so accepting, so care free of looks or who you were or what you did. It felt good. Maybe this was what you’d been searching for all this time.

“I have a feeling you’ll fit in well here” he said with a warm and inviting smile to match his tone, making you smile hopefully, and it made him happy to see such a look on your face, to know he had helped someone who seemed to really need it. “Thank you, it’s so nice to finally be welcomed somewhere rather than forced out” you said, and he felt that pain, knew that a lot of other people who stayed in his town felt the same way. It warmed his heart to know that he could be a helping hand. You seemed really sweet, he hoped you’d settle in and stay a while, newcomers were always interesting around here but you piqued his interest just a little bit more than most others did.

So as you settled in over time, he got to know you a little bit more. You would often venture down to the bar, and you’d found Hancock there quite often, there you exchanged life stories, dreams, aspirations, regrets. It was nice, finally having human interaction for once with someone, someone who understood and someone who wouldn’t cringe or push you away when you spoke. Some nights, he’d put something on from the jukebox and ask you to dance with him, not caring about how bad either of you were in your drunken/high states. Did I mention you were chem buddies? Oh yeah. When night time came, or you’d find some chems while out scavenging the commonwealth for more supplies to help yourself, Hancock and the town, he was inviting you to his room on the state house to do them with him. For that time, you could just forget the world in its entirety, forget being a ghoul, forget it all. You would smile and laugh amongst each other as you told wild stories, flirted with one another, it was always a good time with him. You never had to worry, and you loved that. He was a safe place to just be yourself and he did the same, with absolutely no shame or judgement in sight.

There was one night in particular that you’d remember for the rest of your days, no matter how long you lived until. You were at the bar, talking and enjoying a few drinks with Hancock as you both typically spent your evenings, before you watched him saunter his way over to the jukebox, picking a song to play to dance with you to. As much as Fehr claimed she wanted no part in, or held any care in your growing relationship with the mayor, she couldn’t help but feel a little warmth and happiness deep down that Hancock had finally managed to find someone that made him happy. It was good to see him happy and well, to be carefree in the positive kind of way rather than just getting high in his room all the time. Of course he was still getting high, but it was with you, someone who kept him company, someone who he could confide in. You smirked as you recognized the song that was playing as he leaned against the jukebox, his eyes raking your figure as Oh, Pretty Woman began to play, urging you over to him to dance with him. How could you say no to a man with such charisma?

Pretty woman walkin’ down the street

Pretty woman, the kind I’d like to meet

Pretty woman, I don’t believe you, you’re not the truth

No one could look as good as you

Mercy

He’d softly sang along with the song, his arm sliding around your waist to your back, swiftly and effectively pulling you against him, your hands resting against the ruffles along his white under shirt. You smiled up at him, knowing this was once again one of those times that if you could blush, you would. You’d never felt this way before, never felt so cared for, so wanted since you’d become a ghoul.

Pretty woman, won’t you pardon me?

Pretty woman, I couldn’t help but see

Pretty woman, that you look lovely as can be

Are you lonely just like me?

He continued to sing, just loud enough for you to hear, grabbing your hand and spinning you in front of him suavely before dipping you, unphased by anyone who could be looking on. You smiled as people clapped and stomped their feet to the beat as a way to hype you both up. You couldn’t help the fury of giggles leaving you as he did so, absolutely stunned by such a display.

Grrrow

He imitated right by your ear with a grin, making a shiver run down your spine at the way his raspy voice dropped in octave a little bit as he did. You gave an intrigued sound in response before a laugh bubbled up from your throat as you pulled his signature black, tri-corn hat off from his head in the process of standing back up, placing it on your own with a mischievous grin up at him that he mirrored back. He was good and he knew it, but you couldn’t just let him have this that easily, as much as you were down bad for him, you wanted to see him chase you a little bit. Needed to see if he was all talk or if his words and actions held meaning to them like you hoped they would.

Pretty woman, stop awhile

Pretty woman, talk awhile

Pretty woman, give your smile to me

Pretty woman, yeah, yeah, yeah

Pretty woman, look my way

Pretty woman, say you’ll stay with me

‘Cause I need you, I’ll treat you right

Come with me, baby, be mine tonight

He sang as you danced once more, grabbing your hands and twirling you to where your back pressed to his front for a moment before twirling you back, his fingers beneath your chin as you looked up at him at the end of the verse with a teasing grin. You sauntered away to the doorway towards the rooms before stopping there, turning to look over your shoulder at him as an invitation but stayed as you watched him sing.

Pretty woman, don’t walk on by

Pretty woman, don’t make me cry

Pretty woman, don’t walk away, hey

Okay

If that’s the way it must be, okay

I guess I’ll go on home, it’s late

There’ll be tomorrow night, but wait

What do I see?

Is she walkin’ back to me?

He sang as he watched your hand as it slid down from the doorway you propped up against before making your way back to him, getting just as excited to see you come back as the man singing the song claimed to be. He smirked, watching the sway of your hips as you walked towards him, giving a whistle as you did, his eyes roaming your body.

Yeah, she’s walkin’ back to me

Oh, oh, pretty woman

He finished, watching you loop your arms around his neck as his hands came to rest against your hips and god he’d never been more scared than fucking up this moment with you. Does he just hold you? Does he kiss you? Fuck, do you even feel that way about him? He figured with the way you two flirted, with the way you gave him bedroom eyes just a minute ago that you did, but he didn’t want to be an asshole and just assume either. Maybe he’d let you make the first move, place it in your hands to do with what you wish. That look in your eyes made him never want to look away, you looked at him like he hung the stars in the sky. God how he adored you, he wanted you so badly, and not even in just the sexual way that he normally felt for women who piqued his interest now and again. You were really and truly different in his eyes. As people clapped and cheered on for you both, the tension in the air was broken momentarily, making you laugh happily as you looked out at everyone then back up at him. You smiled up at him, your heart racing as he looked at you with a smile that told him this was the moment. So he took the leap of faith, pulling his hat from your head and leaning down to kiss you, his hat concealing your lips that locked together softly. The on lookers gave a whistle and a cheer as they knew exactly what was happening, and you placed your hands on either sides of his face, pulling him to you to keep him there for just a little bit longer. He grinned into your kiss, his free hand coming to rest on your hip as all worries flew out the window the moment you enthusiastically pulled him in. There couldn’t have been a happier man to exist in that moment other than him, watching as he looked down at you with the most star struck look on his face. “What do you say you and me sneak off for the night, Mr. Mayor?” You asked, placing his hat back on his head and adjusting it for him with a smile. He gave a raspy chuckle at you using his title and what you were insinuating from your question. He’d be lying if he said it didn’t send an excited twitch straight to his cock. “I’d say I like the way you think, sunshine” he replied, making you smile and giggle at his enthusiasm. “Good answer” you replied. Guess it was a good thing you’d paid for your drinks already after all.

You followed him upstairs, to his room in the state house, closing the door behind you both as you walked in after him. You could still hear the jukebox playing music loudly, you smiled as you heard the next song playing from it. Coincidentally enough, it was perfect for a slow dance. His hand boldly came to rest on your waist as his free hand grabbed yours, your fingers intertwined together. “I know it might be cheesy but…now that we’re away from all the pryin’ eyes, I wanna do this right” he said, making you smile softly at him, doing your best to hide the giddy excitement bubbling inside of you that you hadn’t felt in centuries. “Would you…dance with me?” He asked, making you smile brightly as your arms looped around his neck and you looked up at him with a dreamy smile. “I’d be delighted to” you replied, making him smile back down at you. You hummed along with the opening of the song, knowing the melody that was being played.

Crazy, I’m crazy for feelin’ so lonely

I’m crazy, crazy for feelin’ so blue.

I knew, you’d love me as long as you wanted

And then someday, you’d leave me for somebody new.

You sang as you rest your head against his chest as you both swayed to the rhythm of the song. You closed your eyes for a moment, enjoying the warmth of him against you and the feel of his embrace. He gave a contented hum, getting to hear your lovely voice so close, and only for him in this moment. In this moment you weren’t the newcomer that everyone felt the need to gawk at every time you entered a room with him, as selfish as it made him feel but at the same time, in this moment he wasn’t the people’s either. He was yours, and you were his. For a moment the world felt at peace. For a moment, all time seemed to stop around you and it was just the two of you here. It was calming, intimate even. Intimate in a way that for the first time, wasn’t sexual for a change. The closest he’d really ever gotten to intimacy without sex was aftercare, and even then, it came after sex so therefore it was still involved. But this? This was nice. Having you in his embrace, your head against his chest, not a wrinkle of worry evident on your face, and his only worry being if his heart was racing too harshly or too loud for you to be able to withstand.

Worry, why do I let myself worry?

Wonderin’ what in the world did I do?

Crazy, for thinkin’ that my love could hold you.

I’m crazy for tryin’, and crazy for cryin’

And I’m crazy for lovin’ you.

You supposed the song wasn’t wrong in a way, most people would call you crazy for falling in love with a ghoul, or trying to fall in love period as a ghoul. Most people knew them by the characteristic lack of smooth skin, sunken in and marred skin, missing noses and the potential that they turn feral at any moment. You would never listen to that though, as a ghoul you knew you came with ups and downs, but you never let that stop you from seeing the best in others just as you’d hope they would some day do for you in return. After all, you and John both have had your fair share of run ins with feral ghouls in your time traveling together, you both knew what to look out for. John wasn’t one of them, and he knew neither were you. It never mattered to you what someone looked like, you only cared whether they would care for you in return the same way you care for them. How big their heart is, how they treat you and others around them. John was a good man, you knew this from the first moment you met him. Sure, the first moment you’d met him he killed someone, but he killed someone who was trying to harm and haggle you the moment you first step foot into what you’d learned to be his town. He did it to protect you. He looks out for his people, wanting, and doing only what is best for them, helping them any way he can. Of the people, for the people he’d always say. It was that drive, that selflessness that attracted you to him, but also that he didn’t discriminate like the rest of the world seemed to. You couldn’t care less about how his skin was marred from the years of radiation exposure, how a deep hole sits where his nose once did. You saw John for the man he is, the heart he has, not just as the ghoul everyone else does. That’s what made you so likable in his eyes, you never judged. You never held a distaste for the fact that you were a ghoul, that he was one, or that you were surrounded by your fellow people of Goodneighbor who were also mostly ghouls. You had a good outlook on things but weren’t too gullible to be taken advantage of, something that not many people had these days. He also appreciated the way you never judged his habits. Never once in the amount of times that he would take a hit of jet, or pop a couple of mentats, hell even on the rare occasional use of psycho, did you ever once judge him. You didn’t have to partake with him, he’d never force you to, but the fact that you didn’t cringe when he would, the fact that you would never chew him out for it as if he didn’t know the consequences of his own actions. You respected him, respected his way of living, just as he respected you and yours.

He looked down at you, seeing your eyes light up as they met his with a smile spread across your lovely, maybe slightly chapped, lips. He smiled down at you, his hand leaving yours to cradle your cheek as he looked upon you with astonishment. How could someone like you, so loving, so caring, choose him? In a world full of people, granted he knew from experience that the pickings amongst those of the surface were less than stellar, yet you still chose him. A ghoul, when there are people out there that are still far more human looking. Hell, he was sure you could make a synth even grow a heart if you wanted it to and looked upon one the way you looked at him. Sure he would tease you for liking him, for befriending him, but it warmed his heart to know that out of anyone out there, you chose him as your battle partner, him to adventure with. He only hoped deep down that that friendship could be more.

And almost as if someone out there was listening to his thoughts, had heard his silent prayers, he watched as your eyes flickered between his hazy black ones and then to his thin, marred lips, with a look he recognized well. This was the moment that would lead to it all, the moment he’d been waiting for, dreaming about since starting to travel with you and partake in your company. It was truly all or nothing now.

Crazy, for thinkin’ that my love could hold you.

I’m crazy for tryin’, and crazy for cryin’

And I’m crazy for lovin’…

You.

He smiled a little wider when your hand came to cradle his cheek like he was doing with you as you were singing, pulling him even closer to you, if it was possible. Before he knew it, as you sang the last word of the song, your lips found their way to his once more, pressing gently against his own but with confidence and passion that showed him you wanted this. That you wanted him. His hand that was on your cheek soon came to rest against the back of the one you had on his, keeping you as close as he could get but also ensuring that this was real. He needed to know that this wasn’t a dream or some jet fueled fantasy he was in. And to his surprise and delight, it was in fact real. He reciprocated the kiss, finally breaking out of his momentary shock to pull you against him, your chests flush together as his other hand gripped your hip. You smiled into it as his tongue prodded at your lower lip, asking kindly to deepen the kiss into something more passionate. You opened, allowing it and allowing the moment to carry you both to wherever it may lead. Your free hand came to rest against his chest, fingers toying with the ruffles of his undershirt beneath the red jacket he always wore, earning a low, gravely groan from him that rattled his chest. As you both parted for air, he looked down to see that beautiful half lidded expression as he pressed his forehead against yours. “Tell me I’m not dreamin’” he said, breathlessly, almost as if he couldn’t believe that this was actually happening. His response made you chuckle. “I’d be really pissed if I was, that or damn impressed by what the chems you have can do” you quipped, making him laugh. “Me too. You feel real…real nice too” he complimented, his head ducking down to place small chaste kisses against your neck, always the charmer. You giggled. “Then I’d say it’s real” you replied, and those were the words he wanted to hear. He chuckled softly as he exhaled, relieved to know it was real.

He smiled but you could tell there was something eating at him, something he hadn’t said yet. You’d known Hancock long enough in the time you’d spent getting high with him and traveling the commonwealth with him to know his cues. Part of him hated the way that you could tell something was off, after all, he always wanted to keep this aloof front, like nothing ever bugged him but you knew that wasn’t true. Something was bugging him now. “There’s uhh…there’s something I need you to hear” he started, making you part enough to give him space, but not too far to make him feel like you weren’t there for him or put off by what he’d said. “Is everything alright?” You asked, concern in your tone that maybe you might have overstepped a boundary or assumed something incorrectly. “Oh yeah, better than that. This is just…tricky” he replied before giving a sigh, as if trying to get the tension to release from him with one breath. “It’s just, being out there with you, it’s made me realize. Most of my life to this point, I’ve been runnin’ out on the good things I got” he answered, but you could tell he wasn’t done yet, he had more to get off of his chest. “I skipped out on my family, my life in Diamond City. Took up with you just to get outta Goodneighbor. Hell, runnin’ from myself is what made me into…into a damn ghoul” he added, sounding upset at himself, and you wanted so badly in that moment to reach out and take his hand, do something to comfort him, but you wanted him to finish as to not overstep or rudely cut him off. “But bein’ here with you, for the first time in my life, things have just felt…right” he added, making you smile softly at that. You were happy you could be help and a good friend to him, even if you deep down wanted more than that. “And running? It’s the furthest thing from my mind. I mean, I left Goodneighbor thinkin’ I was just gonna sharpen up the ol’ killer instinct. But whether it’s fate, or destiny, or just god damn coincidence, I ended up with someone like you” he continued, making you smile once again, even brighter this time at him as you imagined a soft pink would have flushed to your cheeks had you had a smoother set of skin. “I turned one of the nastiest settlements in the commonwealth into a refuge for the lost. I thought I’d done something I could hang my hat on. But being out there with you, it’s made me realize just how small time I’d been thinkin’. And that maybe all my running, from my life, myself…maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing after all” he confessed, making you look slightly confused as to what he’d said.

“Running from yourself? What do you mean?” You asked, making him chuckle a bit as he thought of what to say to both be honest but also lighten the slightly damper mood up a little bit. He needed to see that smile back on your lips, when you smiled at him, it was like the world was no longer in shambles. He needed that, right now and until the end of his days because he swore no high from any chem out there compared to the one you’d give him. “Well, I didn’t always look this good. The drug that did this to me, that made me a ghoul, I knew what it was going to do. I just couldn’t stand lookin’ at the bastard I saw in the mirror anymore” he replied, making your heart break for him that he felt that way about himself, under all that confidence. “The coward who’d let all those ghouls from Diamond City die. Who was too scared to protect his fellow drifters from Vic and his boys. If I took it, I’d never have to look at him again. I could put all that behind me. I’d be free. Didn’t seem like a choice at all” he added. “Turns out it was just me runnin’ from somethin’ else in my life” he continued, sounding ashamed for his actions and his past, and you understood better than anyone what that felt like. You stepped a little closer to him to grab his hand in yours, an offering of comfort. “Hey, it doesn’t matter what you did. All that matters is what you do from here on out” you said confidently, something you always told yourself to keep your head high and keep going, making him chuckle. “I know a lotta bookies that’d disagree with you. But I feel what you’re gettin’ at. So let me get to the point” he said, grabbing your other hand in his as he looked at you, eye to eye now to show you what he was about to say next was very important to him.

“Throwin’ in with you, has been the best decision I ever made. It’s like I found a part of myself I never realized was missing…which happens sometimes when you’re a ghoul” he started, making you chuckle as you too knew that feeling all too well by now. “If I hadn’t taken up with you, I’d probably be in the gutter somewhere, getting gnawed on by radroaches. You’ve been one hell of a friend” he said, making you smile and chuckle at that, before you looked down at your hands held together, working up the courage to ask the question that had been plaguing your mind for ages now. This was it, this was the moment. “Have you…ever thought about us as maybe more than just friends?” You asked skittishly almost, hoping he’d say yes, praying he felt the same way. A part of you felt deep down like he did, call it hope, call it whatever, but you were never fully sure where you guys stood. You two flirted like he held interest, he looked out for you, invited you along for things that he’d really never invite anyone else to other than maybe Fehr, but it felt different when it was with you. There was a connection between you, that was undeniable, but what type of connection you were never sure of. He gave a chuckle at your question. “It that obvious? But c’mon, you don’t wanna wake up to this mug every morning. Never wish that on anyone I cared for” he replied, joking in that self deprecating manner he always did but answering your question nonetheless. “Hey, who I fall for is my decision, and I’ve fallen for you” you replied softly but with confidence, showing him that you meant it. “Wouldn’t expect that kinda lapse in judgement from you. But I guess that works out for me then, doesn’t it?” He asked with a happy smile, chuckling once more but you could tell that that comment did wonders to help him feel more at ease. “Moments like this, I know all that karma stuff is bull. Because no one like me should be this lucky” he added, making you chuckle in response as you came closer, looping your arms around his neck once again. “Sure you do. You deserve the world in my eyes, John” you said softly, genuinely as you looked up at him, your eyes promising nothing but love and support for his any and every endeavor. “I don’t need the world sunshine. I got you, what else could I need?” He replied, making you giggle as you rest your head against his chest. “So everything is okay between us then?” You asked, making him give a raspy huff in amusement. “I got you, everything else is just details and drug paraphernalia” he said, making you smile warmly as you chuckled once again at his corny line before leaning up and kissing him once more.

It wasn’t long before silence fell over the room long enough to hear the music playing from the jukebox once more. Once again, as if someone had been listening, it was a rather slow, very romantic song playing through the speakers.

Blue moon you saw me standing alone.

Without a dream in my heart,

Without a love of my own.

Blue moon, you knew just what I was there for.

You heard me saying a prayer for,

Someone I really could care for.

And then there suddenly appeared before me

The only one my arms will ever hold.

I heard somebody whisper “Please adore me”

You smiled into it as you both very quickly got swept back up into the moment with each other, his hands traveling the expanse of your curves slowly and softly, mapping out the valleys and plains of your body and to feel you against him. A mischievous grin took the place of the more innocent smile as you pulled away, gently pushing Hancock back to sit on his bed. He gave an equally mischievous grin and chuckle at your actions as you separated enough to take his hands and use them to slide the straps of your dress down your shoulders, allowing it to begin to fall down your frame. He gave a chuckle before whistling once it slipped from you, sitting in a red pool on the floor, leaving you in just your underwear as you stepped out of the discarded dress and straddled his lap on the bed.

And when I looked, the moon had turned to gold!

Blue moon!

Now I’m no longer alone

Without a dream in my heart

Without a love of my own

He grinned, his hands resting on your hips as yours sat on his collarbones, pulling him into another heated kiss. “Fuck…” was all he could manage to mutter into it, making you giggle as your hands wandered his frame. You smiled as you pulled back to enjoy the almost drunk look on his face as he drank you in. It was as if he didn’t know where to look or touch first, he was normally smooth and suave when it came to this sort of thing, but you were different than the rest. “You’ve got a wonderful way of making this ol’ ghoul feel like her old self again with that look” you replied, making him chuckle before clearing his throat. “What’s not to like there, sunshine? All I see is a badass, very beautiful woman sitting in front of me” he said, moving his hips against you and that told you all you needed to know as you chuckled before littering kisses down his scarred neck. “It ain’t exactly pretty underneath all this, you sure you still wanna do this?” He asked, making you look back up at him. “You kidding? Of course I do. Looks ain’t everything ya know” you said, making him laugh. “Says the model” he quipped, and you had to admit that it was sweet that he regarded you that way, but you knew you were no model. What you were though was true to your words when you undid the buttons to his undershirt and coat. You gave a laugh at his flirtation. “Yeah, maybe if a model spent too much time in a tanning bed” You replied, making him chuckle as you continued to litter your kisses down his chest after disposing of his top and coat, then down his stomach, and soon to where his pants sat at his hips. “Still gorgeous all the same to me” he said, and that made your heart flutter in your chest to hear. You couldn’t help the smile that painted your lips as you situated yourself on your knees between his legs.

Damn what a sight it was he’d thought to himself, seeing you on your knees before him, eagerly undoing the flag he used as a belt to free him from them and his briefs. You grinned up at him, getting them down and off, doing the same with your underwear, then happily taking your seat back on his lap. He gave a playful tap against your ass as you got situated, enjoying the nice handful that most ghouls weren’t blessed to still have once they’d reached this point. “I think you’re very handsome, John” you said genuinely, and god he could just melt from your compliments and tone. A moan rips from both of your throats as you grind against him, your slick cunt gliding along his length. “Fuck, oh no sweet cheeks, we’re doing this the right way” he said, making you cock your head to the side confused before he picked you up and put you on your back on the bed. You gave a playful yelp as he did before giggling as your back hit the mattress. “Wanna feel you and taste you first, get you all worked up. Somethin’ tells me you’re a sight to see when you’re all crazy for me” he said, making you swear you could actually blush for once as you let out a way louder moan than you meant to when one of his fingers grazed up and down your slit and found your clit almost immediately, drawing tight circles. Your hand clasped to your mouth immediately, knowing the walls were likely paper thin, but John seemed to have a better solution. He moved your hand away, leaning down to pull you into a heated kiss once more, muffling your moans to where they were just loud enough for him and him alone. It had been so long since you’d felt the touch of another, your scars usually keeping you from finding someone to help scratch that itch. There was the occasional crazy you’d run into that were hell-bent on trying to sleep with a ghoul to find out what it was like. You avoided those people the best you could because something told you that necrophilia didn’t exactly sit very highly on their never to do lists.

Soon his fingers moved down to prod at your entrance, pushing in slowly to allow you the chance to accommodate the intrusion. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as his roughly textured fingers began to piston in and out of you in a steady rhythm, sure to graze your walls to find that spongy bundle of nerves that would leave you crying his name. “Fuck, John…” you moaned, earning a low gravely groan from him. The way you said his name so salaciously went straight to his cock and made his head swim with all the ideas of how he could get you to say his name like that more. Soon his lips mimicked what you’d started earlier on him, trailing down your neck, stopping to tease and nip at your sensitive spots before moving down to take one of your nipples in his mouth. Your arms flew to cling around him, nails digging small crescent shapes into his back as you bit your lip so hard you were scared it would bleed. You were far more sensitive than you thought you’d be, even after ghoulification, apparently the loss of touch still left you as needy as before. “So good for me” he praised, making you whimper as his kisses dipped lower and lower. “Wanna taste you. Gotta know if you taste as sweet as you sound” he said, shifting in between your legs, kissing the insides of one of your thighs leading up to your sex before skipping to your other one, leaving you on edge. “John, don’t tease…” you mewled, making him chuckle at how eager you were. “You’re so cute, hard not to when you sound like that, sunshine” he replied before seeing just how wet you were for him. A sound of intrigue left him as he looked at his fingers once he withdrew them from you. “Tell me, this all for me?” He asked, pulling his fingers out and showing you your slick that clung to his fingers as he separated them, making you whine as you shake your head. “Yes, all for you John, please…” you begged, making him smirk as his fingers slid back inside of you with little resistance, and his tongue finally making contact against your sensitive clit. Your body arched off the bed for a moment, biting back another loud cry as his tongue started to circle your clit. “Fuck! Oh my god” you let out, making him chuckle as the pads of his fingers found your g-spot, rubbing it as his tongue drew all sorts of letters and shapes along your sensitive bud. Your breathing started to turn ragged, your mind blank, you could hardly think of anything other than the whispered expletives and cries of his name that left your lips like a mantra. “Keep sayin’ my name sweetheart, tell ‘em who makes you feel this good” he said with a cocky grin as he dove back into you like a man starved. To think, he could’ve had this the entire time you’d been traveling together, he was at least lucky to have it now.

“Just like that, just like that! Fuck…” you moaned, feeling the ache in your lower stomach start to burn and grow taut. It had been so long since you’d been with someone, and even longer since you’d been with someone who actually could help you reach your peak. Your hips began to buck selfishly against his fingers and tongue, making him moan into you as you used him. “That’s it baby, use me. Wanna hear that pretty mouth moan my name when you cum” he said, making you focus on chasing that high, god you were so fucking close, you could feel it. He peered up at you, watching as your face contorted with pleasure, calculating and changing his movements based on your expressions and sounds. You gasped as he started to draw tight circles around your clit with his tongue, curling his fingers inside of you to rub your g spot once more. “John I…fuck, I think I’m gonna- John!” You moan in warning the best you could before your orgasm washed over you like a tidal wave, sending your back arching off the bed and your thighs squeezing and trapping his head between your legs. He moaned into you as your body was savaged by what felt like every nerve ending lighting on fire all at once. He couldn’t care less if you suffocated him like this, even with no nose to get caught or crushed, he’d consider it an honorable way to go out. You tried to steady your breathing as best you could, finding it hard to open your eyes even, but when you did, you realized he was still trapped between your legs. “Oh fuck, I’m so sorry!” You apologized, opening your legs to let him free and breathe, whining as his fingers left you with that disappointingly empty feeling. “Don’t you dare apologize, being crushed between these is one hell of a dream come true” he said, making you roll your eyes playfully and laugh at his response. Your hand reached out to yank him back up onto the bed, finding your spot once again straddling him. He groaned low in his throat as your hands stroked him, his one hand resting on your hip, squeezing every now and again. “Drivin’ me crazy here sunshine, might just be enough to make me turn feral if you’re not careful” he said, making you chuckle as you kissed him once more, your taste still heavy on his tongue but you didn’t care. You delighted in the moans coming from him as your tongues fought for dominance over each other. Your head dipped into the crook of his neck, peppering kisses along his neck and collarbone. “Need you so bad, John” you said, voice no louder than a breathless whisper as he chuckled. “I dunno, judging by your reaction I figured my mouth was enough. I’m just kiddin’. Think you can handle it, sweet cheeks?” He asked, making you grin as you lined him up to your entrance, slowly working your way down onto his member. “You tell me” you challenged in response as he stretched you open, fuck it’s really been a long time. “Touché- fuuucckk. Goddamn baby…” he groaned as your needy cunt slowly sucked him in, careful to stop once he’d fully sheathed inside of you. “Fuck…” you panted, feeling him fill you entirely, his tip nudging the apex of your cervix.

“It’s uhh…it’s been quite a while since the last time I did this, but I wanna make you feel good” you said, and that ruined him entirely. How could someone so sweet be speared on his cock right now? He’d never know but he’d thank every god out there until the end of his days for it. “That’s alright baby, just not sure I have it in me to be gentle or stop once I’ve started there sugar” he said, grabbing your hips to help you start a good pace, leaving you to moan loudly as his cock nudged your cervix. “Don’t care, gentle can come some other time. Fuck, you feel so good…” you moaned as you met his hips with your own thrusts, taking over and setting the pace as you bounced up and down on his lap. “Love the way you think babe. Shit… tell me what you need sunshine” he said between pants and the sounds of your hips slapping together. “Need you, need you so bad John, please” you begged, trying your best to keep quiet but you both knew that ship sailed a while ago. Whenever your legs grew tired, he was there to grip your hips and help you move, making your eyes roll once again to the back of your head as you’d moan. When you would tip your head back, he’d lean his forward to catch one of your nipples in his mouth, sucking and licking at it to pull you closer to the edge.

He pistoned his hips up into you, all sense of restraint and control lost in the feeling of your gummy walls wrapped tightly around him. You gasped as you felt that sensation in your lower stomach again, getting tighter and tighter as he worked you both to your peak. “Yes! Fuck, so close, don’t stop!” You moaned, making him chuckle deviously. “Wouldn’t dream of it sugar, feel too good to stop” he replied through gruff grunts and soft moans into your shoulder before parting to look down to where your bodies were connected and watch as he disappeared inside of you. “Look at that, that’s a pretty sight” he said, praising the way you’d take all of him with ease and the way your thighs would jiggle as you hungrily bounced on his dick. His eyes raked up your frame to rest on your face, delighted to find your eyes rolled back once your were seated on him, then half lidded when you’d come up, and that happily little cock-drunk smile on your lips before it’d drop to let out a blissful moan. You were music to his ruined ears, and like the chems he took before this, he just couldn’t get enough. His thumb found your clit once more, earning a surprised jump and moan from you as he rubbed it to help you tip over the edge. He couldn’t just let himself cum before his girl did, what kind of man would that make him? Not a very good one at all, he reasoned. Before you knew it, you were toppling over that edge again, holding tightly onto him as your walls spasmed and fluttered around him before squeezing him tightly, making him moan as your release sparked his own. He moaned into your neck as you threw your head back with a lascivious moan, enjoying the pleasant sensation of him filling you up whilst his hands held you seated in his lap. You gave a contented hum, enjoying the feeling of being so full of love, of him. You smiled as he looked back up at you, kissing you sweetly and gently as if he wasn’t balls deep inside of you with his cum leaking down your thighs. He was a man of many capabilities, and certainly was one capable of making you happy in many different ways.

“And to think, I’d been missin’ out on all this this whole time” he joked, making you laugh as you got up to fetch a wet rag to clean yourself and him off with. “Well, now you know” you teased, a grin resting on your face as he snuck up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist as he hugged you from behind. He rested his chin along your shoulder as you stood in the connected bathroom, debating on whether you wanted to have a nice bath, or if you just wanted to lay in bed and cuddle with him to bask in the after glow. “Don’t know which is more addicting; you, or the chems” he said, knowing damn well that you were far more addicting to him but he enjoyed the playful way it’d get you to respond. “Tough competition, guess I’ll have to let you do me as often as the chems” you said, looking at him from over your shoulder and making him laugh at your dirty comment. “Don’t threaten me with a good time” he said, mischief evident in his tone as you felt something press against your rear. With the devious glint in his eyes and a grin to match, he led you back to his bed. Clearly he needed to test your offer.

#fallout #fallout 4 #fallout smut #fallout x reader #fallout 4 companions #john hancock x reader #john hancock #John Hancock x reader smut #john hancock smut #asks #Spotify

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the-lil-spud · 4 hours

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Mama Didn't Raise No Bimbo - Part EIGHT!!!

HOLD onto your hats people this is a long one!!! Please let me know if you’re enjoying this guys – your comments absolutely make my day and make these sleepless nights writing this completely worth it!!

“Enjoy your shower, Y/n. We will see you after it, we have much to discuss” he crooned at you. Smirk growing when your gaze narrowed. Yanking your wrist out of his grip you stepped away. Winking as he disappeared when the elevator doors shut you released a nervous breath. Facing the other Overlord who was eyeing you up, displeased with what she was seeing she tutted at you.

“You gotta learn to step away when things go boom babe, blood is not kind to your clothes! Come on, lets get you cleaned up”, she slips her hand into yours pulling you through a living room and into a massive bathroom. Wait … she’s not gonna clean you right?

Part One / Part Two / Part Three / Part Four / Part Five / Part Six / Part Seven / Part Eight

Thankfully (or not depending on your view) Velvette left you alone in the shower, just popping a towel and some clothes on the side before whisking herself off out of the room but not before giving you a cheeky wink and promising next time she’ll help wash your back.

Red faced you stood in the stream of hot water – scrubbing viciously at your skin to remove the blood splatters and stains from the alabaster skin. You would enjoy the smell of the blackberry and pomegranate shower scrub you were using but you were too focused on the conversation that was going to occur as soon as you got out of this bathroom. Debating on whether you could hide in here forever, you figured probably not. Well, you could try but knowing the three Vee’s one of them would break down the door and fetch you.

Lathering up your hair with the shampoo you watch the bubbles drop down at your feet: a mixture of pinks and reds. Ick, was all that blood in your hair? You didn’t dare look at yourself in the mirror when you walked in. Scared of what you would see. It had been so long since you had last used your shriek that you nearly forgot the carnage that came with it. There should be a splash zone warning. Shampooing once more to make sure all the blood was out of it you then condition it, hoping the blood hadn’t stained your hair. That would suck!

Taking your sweet ass time in the shower you had washed every single piece of skin, hair and scrubbed all your nails and huffed. You couldn’t put off getting out any longer. If you did it would just be your lucky for one of them to pick the lock and come get you, naked or not. Wrapping the fluffy towel around your body you wipe the steam from the mirror and observe the tired look on your own face. Glad to see the makeup had thankfully come off with the scrubbing you had done in the shower you suddenly felt more naked. When you had your makeup on it was like a mask you could hide behind. No hiding now. You wrap your hair up in the small towel then dry the rest of your body off.

Let’s see what clothes Velvette had left you. Frowning at the bra and underwear you grumbled under your breath. How the fuck did she know your size? Taking the new tags off them (why would she have new ones in your size anyway?) you slide them on grudgingly, course they fit like a glove. A black short sleeved t-shirt and high waisted black cargo pants were next – fitting again perfectly but at least they weren’t revealing. Or not revealing in the sense you were showing skin, but the t-shirt clung to you as a second skin and the pants followed the curve of your waist over your hips making your hourglass figure pop. You had to give props Velvette, even her casual outfits looked cute. You wonder if you could order more of these off her? Looking around for your blood-soaked clothes and boots you realised they weren’t in the bathroom anymore. Did you miss her coming in? What the hell? Wriggling your blackened toes on the cold tile you worried your bottom lip.

Shaking your drying hair out of the towel you give it a quick brush with a spare hairbrush you found on the side, slicking it back from your face. Catching sight of yourself in the mirror you give a fierce scowl. Come on Y/n! When have you ever been afraid to face anyone? Well … apart from Alastor but that Radio Demon had a reputation for eating people!

Done with the pity party you ready to leave the bathroom, steeling yourself. Grasping the door handle you take a deep breath in and out and then leave the safety of the room. Here goes nothing.

Grateful that they had carpet instead of tiles you let your feet lead you down the hallway to the living room that Velvette had dragged you through before. Heart pounding more and more with each step you try and breathe steadily. If you faint before you even get to the living room somehow you doubt the Vee’s would ever let you forget it.

Entering the living room, you see all three of them sat down, Vox and Velvette on the sofa and Valentino on his own in a purple and gold armchair (though ‘throne’ should have been a more apt description) all on their phones and murmuring to each other every so often. It would be quite a homey docile scene if your dead heart didn’t feel like it was about to keel over. Quietly clearing your throat, you gain their attention. Vox and Velvette’s head twist sideways to look at you while Valentino peeks over his shoulder with a flirtatious smile: “Princessa finally, we thought we were going to have to come get you”.

“Sorry about that, it seemed the blood just didn’t want to get out of my hair” you chuckled, pushing back the nerves you take a few more steps into the room lion’s den. Vox motioned to another armchair that was placed in front of the TV, you would be the focus of the three. Great.

You calmly walk to the armchair, not wanting them to know how nervous you were. The cushions sunk a little as you sat down, if you weren’t facing these three you would happily sink into this chair. It had to be one of the most comfortable things you’ve ever sat on. Crossing your legs you place your hands in your lap, back straight and head turned so you could see all of them. Time to get serious.

“So?” You start, looking questioningly at Vox – who was sat in the middle – as you were sure he was the one that would lead this conversation. His responding smile was almost shark-like. And Hell, didn’t it get your motors running. Wait no. Bad Y/n FOCUS!

“So y/n, before you had to run off and wash off all that – uh – blood you were going to confess how you killed those sinners with only a small cut to show for it”. Eyebrow raising in question, if you knew he wasn’t a manipulative bastard you’d have believed that his tone was kind. Hmm. To lie or tell the truth. What to do.

“I exploded their brains causing their entire head to detonate like a watermelon” you explain with a deadpan expression. Truth it is then. Your amusement rose when they all looked at you with shocked faces. Where was a camera when you needed one.

“You … uh you what?” Allowing a small smirk on your lips you make eye contact with Vox. Yeah, not so smug now are ya.

“I raised my voice to such a high frequency that it vibrated their brains so much that they exploded, thus causing their skulls to detonate into millions of pieces – so messy but oh so effective, don’t cha think?” you thoroughly explained, keeping the eye contact with the TV Demon. Your smirk growing larger when you observed him shift uncomfortably in his seat. Good. You hoped he was thinking what would happen to him if you used your shriek. A flicker down his body told you he was enjoying whatever thought had occurred to him.

“Princessa? You are saying you killed these sinners with just your voice?” Turning your attention to the Moth Overlord, you smile prettily at him.

“Yes”. Simply put. “Didn’t Vox show you the footage?” Tilting your head as you question them. The sharp looks the two gave Vox gave you a little bit of satisfaction. Sheepishly holding his hands up as if he was innocent, he shook his head.

“I was just waiting for Y/n to give me approval to show you both”, narrowing your eyes it took everything in you to hold in the snort of amusement. When does he ever wait for anyone’s approval to share anything?

You motion with your hand for him to show them the video footage, tearing your gaze away to focus on the bookcase across the room when you see his screen flicker starting the video. You might not be able to see it but the sounds were enough to make you flinch – thankful when you started to shriek Vox muted the sound. You don’t think you’d live much longer if by rewatching the scene you accidentally explode the Vee’s brains. Though Alastor would be forever in your debt. Hmm…

At the clearing of a throat, you turn your attention back to them. Velvette looked impressed, Valentino amused and Vox … well he looked like you were a shiny new toy that he really wanted to play with.

“Well babe, I knew you had fire in you but girl!” Velvette was the first to break the silence as she laughed. Somehow that put you a bit at ease. You weren’t sure how they other two would react but amusement you could deal with.

“What? You didn’t think I was just a pretty face now did ya?” a quick wink towards her made her laugh more. Valentino joined in, smoke billowing from his cigarette.

After a few moments they settled, both their gazes shifting to Vox who was sat in the middle with his arms crossed and a mischievous smile on his screen. That can’t be good for you.

“The only thing now is, what do we do with the footage?” He asked, eyebrows quirking at you. Steeling yourself you lean your elbows on your knees. Here was the tricky bit. How to convince him to not show the footage but making it seem like it was his idea.

“I suppose that is up to you Vox, I’d ask if you could delete it but that’s your footage and your decision now” you reply simply. You weren’t going to beg. You weren’t going to give him the satisfaction. A flicker of surprise flashed across his screen before he narrowed his eyes at you.

“And if I decided to share it with our adoring public?” He asked, thinking he had that over you. The fact you kept your private life completely out of your social media – no one knew what you did privately which obviously did not go unnoticed with Vox. You didn’t give out where you lived, not who you were before hell and not even your favourite drink unless you personally gave that information out online, every single post, message and picture had a reasoning and motivation behind it. You built your life in hell on only showing one side of you: the sexy bimbo who had a good set of lungs for singing. A piece of eye candy. Someone people weren’t afraid of talking in front of as they didn’t think you’d remember or understand what they were saying. The release of this footage could ruin that image. If the public realised that you had power in your voice you might not get any more jobs. Demons and sinners would fear your singing. You could lose all the hard work you’ve put into lying under the radar. All that hard work slowly climbing up the ladder gaining more and more power.

But if you kept it quiet, if it wasn’t shown and the Vee’s used it as a way to get you into a deal then you would be under their wing. Under their power. And you were really tired of being in the shadow of other Overlords.

“I suppose then the public would hear my real voice – my persona and image I have put out has served me well. But, with demons and sinners knowing that it takes only one moment of hearing my shriek to drown them in their own blood that will gain me more respect, fear and power. You are probably doing me a favour actually” you muse, tapping your chin with your blackened finger. Pretending to consider the possibility of what you just said, a sadistic smile broke across your lips.

It grew when you saw Vox’s expression darken, another flicker down his body you were surprised to see something making an appearance in his trousers. Pocketing that piece of information away for later, you raise an eyebrow at him. His move. Velvette and Valentino looking between you both, giving each other a malicious grin. After a few moments he raised his phone that was in his hand. Clicking a few buttons before putting it down on the arm of the sofa. Shit. Had he sent it out to the rest of Hell?

A harsh buzzing on the coffee table in the middle of you all made you glance down. Your phone! Seeing a notification from Vox light up the screen – since when did you have his number? You grab it, clicking on the notification it comes up with the video file. Had he sent it to you?

Your gaze back up on the smirking TV Demon, arms laying on the back of the sofa he was fully relaxed: “oh don’t worry my little Songbird, you are the only person in Hell with that video now.” Confused you place your phone back on the table. Wait what? Wasn’t he going to use it to blackmail you into making a deal? He laughed as you carried on staring at him. “Did you think I was going to try and force you into a deal y/n?” Nodding at the obvious answer, he just laughed more. “No, not this time. You’ve managed to surprise me, not many have achieved that. I want to see what else you have hidden behind those lovely violet eyes of yours before I claim your soul”, his eyes darkened again while his voice deepened with static at the end. Biting your lip, you push the blush away that wanted to burst out on your cheeks. Breath y/n.

Least you knew his angle now. Nodding to him, you look to the other two who had been suspiciously quiet. “I don’t suppose you’d mind keeping this to yourselves as well, would you?” You ask them, hoping they’d agree.

Velvette smirked at you before rolling her eyes: “babes, happy to keep it quiet for now but as soon as you wanna tell people you’ve gotta let me design the outfit you are gonna wear! I’m thinking Siren – all out mankiller outfit, yea? Lemme get some designs drawn up!” She was up and out of her seat before you could even blink. Amused, you let your gaze go to the smoking Moth Overlord. His tinted glasses made it a little hard to read him. Unless he was shouting or flirting you couldn’t really tell what he was thinking. You could see why him and Vox were a couple.

After a few more puffs of his cigarette, he shrugged his shoulders with a playful grin. “My lips are sealed here, mi cariño. Knowing you have that gorgeous scream that could kill makes me think of all sorts of ideas – you’d be surprised how many have a kink where they want their partner to kill them”. Pretty sure your eyebrows have been lost in your hairline.

“Really?” the question escaped your lips before you could do anything to stop it. Leaning forwards in his chair, smoke blowing towards you his smile grew making his gold tooth flash in the light.

“Yes, my Princessa … would you like me to show you some vi”-

“-no, no that’s fine thank you!” You interrupted him, not able to hide the blush this time making his and Vox’s smile grow wickedly.

“So shy when we speak about sex, amore, you make me curious” ooh it is definitely time to go now! Chuckling nervously, you brush it off and make a show of looking around.

“Don’t suppose you guys know where my clothes and boots went do ya?” Are you changing the subject? You betcha!

Taglist: @tasha-1994 @azullynxx @reath-solia @leathesimp @klorinda @twinklethewarrior

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