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I wanna mention, there's this softness that Will has in WMLW, especially in the second half of the video. You are legitimately the only artist I've seen who's been able to capture that EXACT soft, kind-eyed look he has in WMLW. It's something I've looked for for a long time in general Will art, and man, you just nail it! Great work :DD
thank you so much ;;v;; I don’t know if maybe that’s because I was super late to the wilford party haha, I haven’t had a chance to really see other people’s interpretations of him and I haven’t watched most of the earlier content (Who Killed is I think the earliest), but Mark’s performance especially in WMLW implied such a depth to him that my brain just started to fill in the gaps and now I’m infatuated— that softness is definitely my favorite part about him :)
I’m curious about exploring his more violent tendencies but I think that has to go hand-in-hand with his very disconnected (and traumatized??) side and that makes me sad :,))
In a way I sort of see him as an eldritch being meets stray cat 💞
#kenna talks#thank you so so much for the sweet words#the way mark’s performance made me feel like wil was talking to me directly#and that soft understanding and patience had me WEAK#especially as someone with ADHD & memory problems#so you saying my art captured that softness makes me very happy 🥰🥰
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Hiiiii can you do a jealous Alastor but not of anyone but his own shadows bc his wifey takes a liking on one of his shadows.
Oooh! I like this quite a lot! It’s very interesting and unique! Once again, beloved hubby Alastor! Another one I want to explore hubby of is Blitz. I think Blitz would make a good hubby
Alastor- Picking Favourites
Alastor’s furious, steaming from his deer-like ears so hot that it’s basically boiling him… did somebody hurt his ego? No. Did Angel Dust sexually advance on him again? No. Did his breakfast get interrupted by the Hotel Manager? NO. Nothing has inconvenienced him but something awful has been happening, day by day, that he can barely keep his composure
Hearing your laughter directed at something else felt like a puncture stab wound to his throat, but knowing your laughter is directed at his mere sentient shadow basically gutted him in the stomach with a sharp butcher knife right after. You’re his wife, his missus, his realm, the woman he has been fawning over for so long and you’re hitting it up with his sentient silent shadow?!
Of course, Alastor’s fascinating lively shadow is just being nice to it’s master’s recently wedded spouse, and is trying to get you accustom to being around so much Voodoo magic and the weirdness that is Alastor himself so it’s being all caring and leading you about, showing you items and teaching you Alastor’s favourite foods
But that doesn’t mean Alastor isn’t jealous… because he is, he’s really jealous
Whilst he reads through a interesting crime fiction novel, Alastor’s tall fluffy deer-like ears flick up at the sound of your voice. He can’t sense his voodoo-magic induced shadow, meaning that it’s wondered off to you and as he suspected, you enter your husband’s soothingly silent fireplace-warmed accompanied by Alastor’s sentient shadow. It cant really talk but it makes all kinds of humming and echoey noises. It almost seems like you understand it…
Alastor’s patience, throughout every time he hears this, has finally shattered to pieces as his claws dig into the book in his hand, snapping his fingers. The shadow directly mirroring your husband’s look, fades away into thin air as if it was a big fire and a bucket of water was dumped on the top of it, rising up into streams of smoke. It’s gone and you’re confused on why it disappeared
“Darling. Why are you getting so handsy with my friend?”
Alastor almost growls out with his deep scowl… this is possibly the first ever time you and Hell will ever see Alastor frown and frown so deeply he is… it’s kinda unnatural to look at but when Alastor willingly frowns and can’t pull himself to smile, it means he is more than pissed off… you didn’t think just being polite and going along with your husband’s voodoo magic shadow being would ever cause a problem
It’s just that Alastor’s love for you is so strong that it causes jealousy to concur and even jealousy over just some magic creating a shadowy being. Something that is sentient but mainly tied to it’s owner, to Alastor and he is jealous of his own creation
Approaching your beloved husband, the Radio Demon, you lean over, pushing back his somewhat messy crimson red bangs and kisses directly over the pale red almost bullet-sized ‘x’ on the flesh of his forehead. That ‘x’ is the biggest weak spot on Alastor, a symbol of his shame and where his pride can be hurt the most but he doesn’t mind showing off all his weaknesses and vulnerabilities to you… he had already told you about his human life
What’s one little kiss on that ‘x’ going to do?
Pulling back. It’s almost like the single kiss had melted away all his anger and Alastor is now just a soft innocent fluffy little fawn with his crimson red eyes almost sparkling at the affection. He didn’t suspect that, he suspected this’d turn into some big fight but you’re not going to argue, you’re going to explain yourself
“Alastor… Al, my love. I wasn’t replacing you with your shadow buddy. He was just trying to help me get accustom to being your wife. I’ve never been married before and being married to the Radio Demon… it’s. It requires a lot of adjusting so he was just trying to help”
Alastor couldn’t help but feel a bit bad about his half temper tantrum. Of course, why would his shadow even care about having a spouse of its own? It doesn’t, it cares about you being the best wife for its master so it’s trying to help and get you more comfortable. Yes, he is still jealous that you didn’t come to him and go to a shadow… but he does really appreciate all the effort and the wish to not rely on him in order to impress him
After taking a deep breath whilst placing his bigger clawed hand on the smaller clawed hand of yours over his cheek, gently fondling the soft skin over his face. Alastor rhythmically brushes his own fingers over the smooth skin of your hand briefly. Controlling himself, controlling his emotions and then finally saying whilst opening his eyes again to meet yours
Just… such beautiful eyes
“My dear… I appreciate the efforts but please, don’t think you can’t come to me to learn. We’re husband and wife, we work together. You don’t need to go to my friends for that advice”
#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel characters#vivziepop hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel alastor#hazbin alastor#hazbin imagines#romantic alastor#alastor short story#alastor x reader#alastor#radio demon x reader#hazbin radio demon#the radio demon#radio demon#husband alastor#husbando#vivziepop#husband alastor x reader#romantic short story#romantic alastor x reader#comfort short story#comfort#married couple go brrrrr
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Feyd Fantasy Part 2
Baroness & Breeder
Label mature 18+
Summary
Feyd is becoming distracted he can't keep his hands off of you. Every chance he gets he sneaks you away to to satisfy his urges, he is addicted to your sex.
With his Baroness giving him physical pleasure as well as mental counsel the vitality begins to return to his deadened eyes.
Every one in the fortress notices his altered mood and behavior. The only one glaring at the change is his uncle. He raised Feyd with enough brutality and greed to become a ruthless tyrant. Now day by day he hears news from his servants of Feyds brutality slipping away.
With the gladiatorial fights fast approaching it is imperative Feyd is his most ruthless to slaughter the warrior slaves and prove the Harkonnen Valor.
The Baron follows cues from one of Feyds servants to locate him when he can not be summoned.
When the Baron finds you together he secretly spies.
Watching a loving Feyd satisfy you on the table in the grand meeting hall instead of attending his fight training enrages the Baron.
He sees his control over Feyd slowly slipping away under your care. With his patience severed he regains control over him by force. He gives Feyd an ultimatum which leaves him no choice but to resubmit himsel to the Barons sadistic will.
Starts off passionate Ends with sexual angst
🚨 Slightly depraved smut 🚨
oral on sleeping female • fingering •clit play•panty tearing • sex on a table • sex in bondage•spanking•sex with a foreign object• orgasm controlled by device• male pleasuring self• male ejaculating on self • male dominance •ownership markings•orgasms •squirting•cream pies.
🫦Smut consultant @burnthheparaphilia
⚔️ Feyd Fantasy Series ⚔️
Part 1•Part 2• Part 3•Part 4•Part 5• Part 6• Part 7
⌛️ Extreme Dune Inaccuracies ⏳ 💝Softie approved (non violent)
I received so many requests that excited me it prolonged the writing 😭 🫶🏻
Feyd Fantasy III will continue the other requests TBA this week 💞 I love to entertain you so much 🥰
Inspo: ⚔️ Multiple anonymous requests combined:
-Feyds weakness for reader -He keeps her with collar hickies -Soft breast play -More sci-fi sex toy -Feyd Dom vs her spoiled/opinionated Bene Gesserit. -Feyd in angst -Feyd masturbating -Squirting in Feyds mouth -Sex while tied up *They are all hot ty for reqs 🤤🙏🏻
Baroness & Breeder
Feyd initially assumed after the wedding ceremony he would only spend the first night with you. After torturing you and defiling you to his gratification he would discard you and return to his pleasure slaves. He had only one objective to complete after all, securing his heir as the future Baron of Giedi Prime.
His preconceived notions perished the night he consummated the marriage. Your kindness and beauty beguiled him. Your ability to make him feel loved and nurtured satisfied what he deeply craved the most.
Feyd formed a physical attachment to you that slowly began to develop into something more. You were terrified of his brutality on your wedding night but slowly began understand his afflictions. Feyd has gone through decades of trauma to render him so psychologically damaged. You begin to nurture him and care for him like he has never known. It radically changes his mentality.
Being a young Bene Gesserit in training arranged to marry the psychotic Feyd Rautha, tested your resolve. But you proved your worth by securing his heir and the future kwisatz Haderach for the Order
Day by day your powers finally begin to awaken. You use them to mend Feyd further. You test your limits at times, changing his temperament with a calming touch or sending him feelings of passion and love in a single kiss
Each time he has sex with you the energy exchange that keeps him in a constant state of obsession and lust with you is entirely out of your control. He dominates you sexually.
As the gray morning light of Giedi Prime fills his bed chamber Feyd awakens from a vivid dream. You are on your knees in the throne room sucking his cock. He groans smiling as he stretches and opens his eyes. He never remembers having dreams before he met you now they are unceasing.
He turns on his side already hard as he watches you sleep. You are resting peacefully even after the rounds he put you through last night.
He desires your sex constantly. Any where at anytime, he does not tire of it. Not merely to satisfy his urges, but to feel the intimacy and passion on the deepest level with you. He can not find sex like this anywhere on demand which is why he is infatuated with you.
He reaches his hand and caresses his thumb down your jaw. He watches you softly breathe, your eyelids shift as you dream. His eyes wander lower, you are completely naked with the sheet resting on your hip.
He pulls it down to expose you. His breathing increases. He becomes aroused just from the sight of your genitalia. He knows you are becoming his weakness.
The infatuation began the moment he fully sheathed himself inside of you on the wedding night. He experienced a pleasure he had never known when he felt your tight walls milk his cock. As if bewitched he has been unable to stop the sexual thoughts forming in his mind and in his dreams about you.
He gently pushes your shoulder guiding you to lay flat on your back. He settles himself between your parted legs. Seeing you aren’t aroused he spits on his fingers and slicks his saliva into your folds. He is needy for you.
He is supposed to be getting ready for fight training, but he can’t concentrate on anything until he has you. He lowers his face between your thighs methodically licking your folds from your entrance to your clit .
You moan in your sleep, and he grabs the flesh of your inner thighs squeezing them before spreading your legs wider apart. He pushes his tongue into you tantalizing your core trying to awaken you.
Only a whimper escapes your lips as you dream. He gives you more, delicately guiding his two fingers inside of you. He pushes them in and pulls them back out in a soft rhythm. You become wetter as he increases his speed. The squishing sounds as he fingers you hardens his cock solid.
You finally awaken from a dream of him having sex with you. He had your wrists and ankles bound and tied to the bed posts.
When you look down and see he’s already pleasuring your folds you moan from the feeling. You look up to his mirror on the ceiling. He has one arm across your pelvis holding you down as his elbow of the other moves back and forth fucking his fingers into you.
He has already worked you up to an orgasm. You grab the back of his neck and pull his face directly into your pussy. He enjoys your dominance groaning as his lips mash into your clit. You begin moaning from the feeling “Feyd I’m so close” you cry out.
He makes his tongue work faster against your clit. You feel the familiar tightness in your core as you moan for him. “Feyd make me cum” you beg. He sucks your clit into his mouth and pumps his fingers furiously inside of you as you orgasm.
He removes his fingers and latches his lips on your entrance. His tongue coaxes your arousal and you squirt into his mouth as you cum. You moan looking down at him the feeling is so pleasurable. He gazes back into your eyes. You watch how they change as he drinks all the liquid released from your orgasm.
The look in his eyes is devious. He rises up from between your legs and hooks his hand around your hip. With his strength he easily flips you in one swift motion onto your belly.
He spreads your legs wide and lines himself up in between. He repeatedly slaps his heavy cock on your cheeks making himself harder preparing to enter you. “Feyd please be gentle” you plead with him. He smirks to himself pressing his cock to your entrance. He is able to be gentle until he orgasms and then he will thrust into you relentlessly until he cums.
Fight Training
The Baron speaks with his advisors in the morning about the upcoming gladiatorial fights around the massive table in the meeting hall. When the assembly concludes he uses his anti gravity device to go with the men of court to watch Feyd in combat training.
He is proud of the accomplishments of his nephew Feyd, he is the Barons favorite over his older brother Glossu Rabban Harkonnen.
After making several public embarrassments to the family name the Baron had Feyds brother Rabban shipped to Arrakis. He gives him one last chance to prove his worth controlling their families most lucrative venture, harvesting spice.
Though ominous and foreboding the Baron is an obesely over weight man. He can no longer walk without the assistance of integrated technology to reduce the burden of his weight. He has an antigravity device implanted into his spine thick tubes connected on two small orbs. The orbs float behind him carrying the chemicals which enable him to defy gravity.
They arrive to the second story of the courtyard in Feyds quarters. When looking down into the training pit the first floor it is deserted. A low murmur begins between his advisors as to the where about of Feyd. Always eager to show off his combat knife skills Feyds absence is jarring.
The Baron immediately goes to Feyds chambers and finds them empty as well. Feyds male Page appears at the entrance hearing the commotion. “Well where is he?” The Baron snaps “You are to be at his side at all times have you forgotten your purpose” The Baron is fuming at the Pages insolence.
The Page trembles knowing the truth and averts his eyes from the Barons Gaze “Spit it out or I cut it out” the Baron says coldly. He hovers into the young man’s personal space. The Page knows both Harkonnen men will readily slit his throat.
He divulges enough to not be dispatched by either “He and his lady are in the great halls of the fortress. I’m not sure where but he wanted to show her the grandeur of Geidi Prime” the Baron squints in anger how idiotic at a time like this with so much at stake to impress his new bride. His scowl deepens because Feyd above all neglected his training. For that he will be severly punished.
The Great Meeting Hall
After touring your fifth great hall with Feyd it is readily apparent his family has amassed a great fortune with power and control over the populous of Geidi Prime.
He pushes open the large black inscribed doors of the meeting hall. There are thrones at opposite ends raised on platforms with stairs. The high floor to ceiling windows display the industrial cityscape. A grand table that can seat fifty people occupies the majority of the floor space. Everything is void of color, only stone marble, black and granite can be seen in the gigantic space.
You walk over to the throne on your left “is this one yours?” Your voice echos in the large hall. Feyd nods, his hands are clasped behind his back. He follows you around the room as you study the furniture and the giant painting of his uncle and then of himself there is a portait of a third Harkonnen male next to Feyd but he interrupts your thoughts before you can ask the identity.
“This is where the most important decisions are made on Geidi Prime, as well as another secret room with the cones of silence” he adds.
“What are cones of silence? “ you ask. The words are somewhat familiar to you.
“They are able to mute all sounds around them, only the two inside can hear each other.”
He answers as he imagines himself fucking you inside of one until he makes you scream in pleasure as loud as he possibly can. He stops walking and stands behind you.
You've paused to study something that caught your eye. His eyes wander your form up to the beauty of your side profile. He can’t help himself as his hand trails down your shoulder. “Do these things in impress you?” He asks. You finally look over your shoulder at him.
You had been mesmerized studying an ancient Harnokken sword on display. It is carved with hieroglyphs that date back centuries. It represents how his entire culture revolves around war and greed . “Yes ” you say addressing his question to be kind. You turn back to looking at the sword again. Deep inside you are longing for your home world.
You remember the beautiful gardens, waterfalls, flowers, and colors of life. You especially miss the large atrium where you would read for hours basking in the afternoon sunlight. The warm sun would kiss your skin as it filtered through the glass dome.
You would lay on a spacious out door ottoman with your fellow Bene Gesserit sisters. Honing your Bene Gesserit skills in the palatial gardens seemed like a dream now.
Feyd sees you lost deep in thought and softly grabs your chin “What would impress you more” he asks with intent. He knows you aren’t fond of the ways on Geidi Prime. You don’t have an answer so you remain quiet.
He knows one thing he has that impresses you on end. He gently pulls you into a kiss. His bottom lip rubs softly with yours as his warm tongue fills your mouth.
He ignites your passions and you place your hands on his jaw. You lean your head with his as you kiss him in return. You want to focus on the carnal and forget your distant memories. He presses himself against you and the heat of his body claims you.
He turns walking you back as he kisses your lips until you are met against the grand meeting hall table. He sits on the edge and moves to the center. He rises up on his knees beckoning you to come.
You sit on the edge and crawl to him. Now both in the center his lips find yours again hungrier than before. You feel his teeth bite into your lower lip and tug. It arouses you as he releases your lip and does it again. Then he envelops his mouth completely onto yours. You feel the hardness of his cock as he presses it into your thigh.
He wants to defile you on this table. He smirks at the high disrespect to the Harkonnen dynasty he is about to commit. Soon this will all belong to him so what does it matter. He pushes you back to lie flat against the stone slab. You gaze up above him to the metallic barbs of the chandelier until his face obscures your view.
His hands start at your knees grabbing the hem of your gown and sliding it to your hips.
His hands clutch one side of your panties tearing them apart making you gasp. He tears the other side and rips them clean from your body.
You watch as he sits back on his heels between your parted legs. He unhooks the clasp of his pants and pulls his thick veiny cock out. The contrast of the black fabric against his large hardened pale cock is striking.
He slaps his pink tip on your clit to edge you.
You wince at each tap of his cock as it makes your bundle of nerves jump. He slides his hand down your thigh to meet your hip and holds you steady. He lines himself up and thrusts into you so roughly you have no time to adjust to the feeling.
Your vision goes hazy as your back arcs from the table. His penetration shocked you senseless. His large cock expands parts of you that you never knew existed. He watches how your face changes from pain to pleasure and back again as you try and relax around the girth of his size.
He wants to spur you on and leans down pressing his chest to yours. He wraps his hand around the back of your neck titling your head so he can speak softly into your ear.
”You are so beautiful to me” he says as his eyes study your side profile. He traces his thumb on your lower lip as you pant for him. “So desperate for my cock, the way you’d let me fuck you on this table you’d let me do anything to you” a moan escapes your lips as he shushes you “Just lay still and look pretty while I fuck you until you stretch open for me” you moan louder at his words.
He begins to roughly thrust inside of you like he wants to posses you. His cock hits your core at a dangerous pace. Your breasts bounce with every push of his hips. He is already becoming lost in pleasure loving the feeling of your tight cunt stretching around his throbbing cock.
You arc your back down flat to steady yourself against his pace. “You…feel too good on my cock” he rasps out as he finally hits the thrust that stretches you to around his size. He stares down into your eyes completely transfixed by the physical connection between your bodies.
Unbeknownst to you both the Baron has finally narrowed his search. After spying into several halls down the corridor his servants waves him over finally finding the one you are in. The Baron peeks through the discreet opening made by one of the nimble servant. There on the middle of the table in the grand meeting hall he sees Feyd fucking you ruthlessly.
Your are constantly being pounded into the stone slab table by his strength. His hips begins slapping harder against you as he thrust between your legs. You hold out until the familiar tightening in your abdomen begins. Your moans start to fill the air.
As your walls clench around him it makes his cock feel incredible inside of you. Your eyes stare up at him, pleading and begging for release.
He sees the neediness in your eyes and brings his hand between your bodies touching your clit. His finger tips are wet by your arousal as he slicks them expertly in firm circles around your bundle of nerves.
It sends shocks though your core that radiate your entire body “YES please Feyd just like that“. You are unable to string together another sentence as you orgasm with him strumming your clit as hard as he can with his cock slamming into your soaked pussy.
His mouth opens feeling your walls milking his cock from your orgasm. He pins your wrists next to your head and plows into you even harder. His pace falters as he orgasms. He gasps as he paints rope after rope of hot cum into your cervix.
He rests down on his elbows laying his full weight on you panting. He kisses your lips passionately with his final slow thrusts. His breath shudders into your mouth as he feels his cock empty inside of you.
He plants soft kisses around your face as he comes down. Each one more tender and loving than the last. His heart feels revived when he’s with you. He cradles your head in his hands staring into your eyes. You smile at him and he smiles back, it isn’t like his sinister ones before, this one is radiant you see the kindness in his eyes.
His uncle spying on the entire moment becomes enraged : not at the fact Feyd missed training, not at the fact he satisfied his carnal urges on the sacred meeting hall table, but at the fact Feyd put a woman’s pleasure before his own. The Baron turns away in disgust his patience is severed.
He raised Feyd with enough brutality and greed to become a ruthless tyrant. Now he sees every aspect of the brutally he instilled in Feyd quickly being stripped away by a female. He never thought this was possible.
He will take out two problems with one swift action: Punishing Feyd by having you removed from his presence entirely.
Family Secrets
You and Feyd take time to have a meal together in the dining hall. He enjoys his meat rare and bloody. You usually avoid looking at his plate due to nausea, but tonight you are having an unusual craving to bite into the blood soaked meat.
He sees you staring at his plate hungrily after you’ve finished your soup. He smiles and cuts you a piece bringing it to your lips. The scent of iron is overwhelming, you readily collect the piece of meat in your mouth.
You chew ravenously before stopping yourself and chewing regularly again. It’s like the color returns to your vision as your body absorbs it. Feyd knows why you are craving it and cuts more pieces for you to eat but remains silent on the topic.
Instead he pries into what things you miss that would entertain you in the fortress. When you mention your love of books he says he will have his Page take you to the fortress library the next day. Feyd knows he will be preoccupied back on schedule with his uncles plans. He will be unable to spend as much time with you.
By the time you and Feyd return to his chambers it is late evening. His Page rushes him and pulls him aside to make him aware of his uncles fury.
“The Baron showed up unexpectedly to observe your fight training today. When he realized you were not here he went into a rage. I believe because it is your birthday as well as the killing of your 100th gladiator which makes him more invested than usual.”
Feyd understands the importance of the events to his Uncle and knows he will be under a more watchful eye.
Feyd joins you in his chamber. You are already on his balcony at the railing staring up at the moon. It is white with gray swirls of clouds all over it, asteroids scatter across the expanse the sky in front of it .
Feyd approaches you and places his hand on your hip joining you together. You look over at him and smile. His pale skin always glows in the moonlight. “I think my uncle is angry with me” he admits. “Why would he be angry?” you ask.
He and his uncle have a complicated family dynamic. Feyd looks up at the moon. “I’m his successor, I must do everything he asks to inherit Giedi Prime and I am beginning to follow my own interests. Lately I have been… preoccupied” he says as he looks over at you smiling.
“Why are you here with him, where are your parents Feyd?” his face turns to panic he quickly looks away to hide it but you clearly saw his reaction. He walks back inside ending the conversation leaving you on the balcony.
You follow him in stunned by his reaction to a simple question. He is already undressing clearly avoiding the topic for sex. He approaches you fully naked his cock semi erect. He pulls your gown off crumpling it to the floor and making you step out of your panties. Before you can ask more questions he’s already kissing you. He’s so quick it’s catching you off guard.
He lowers his face to your neck and licks a column up your throat. He begins to bite his black teeth into your flesh sealing his lips and sucking new bruises to mark you.
The previous collar of bruises only faded yesterday. You whine to him “Feyd please I just had a beautiful gown made to wear to your gladiator event. All of my Bene Gesserit sisters are going to attend. If you mark me it will show” He releases his lips from you and grabs the front of your throat.
He stares intensely into your eyes and you see his psychotic gaze return “Whose throat is this?” He asks. A chill runs up your spine suddenly feeling his dominance “Yours” you muster up. “Who do you belong to?” You feel a bit of defiance rising as a Baroness until he grabs a handful of your pussy.
“You! its yours” you yelp. You want him to return to gentle. “Does my pet need to be trained back into obedience?” He asks rhetorically. “No I’m being good!” You whine.
He looks you over his temper rising thinking of how many little rules you’ve been breaking. “You are becoming a spoiled pet again listen to to how you whine” He collects your arousal on his fingertips and brings them up to you mouth. He makes you suck one of his fingers in to you mouth at a time. You thoroughly suck them from his knuckles to his finger tips. “Good girl” he says voice faltering from arousal. “ If you wine again I will punish you.”
He takes your hand and brings it to his solid cock. You gasp he is so hard. He wraps his hand around yours making you pump his shaft as he goes back to sucking bruises on your throat.
You don’t say another word to deny him his pleasure.
He continues to have you pump his shaft as he completes your collar marking you as his.
He removes your hand from his cock and pulls you to the bed. When your thighs meet the edge he bends you over face down on the mattress. You turn your head to the left.
You watch as he grabs a length of rope from his sex toy table. He stands directly behind you and waits. Knowing what a spoiled pet you are you will complain before he even does anything. “But Feyd I was good” you wine.
You fell right into his trap “Tsk tsk you whine yet again a light punishment will take that right out of your voice.” He loves to tie you up because unlike most when tied you continue to squirm and struggle which excites him.
He places your arms across your lower back in an “X” binding them together . When he’s finished he gives your right bottom cheek a nice slap “Climb on the bed”he commands. You stand and he pushes you back down “On your belly” he snaps.
You lift your legs but without your arms you struggle. You try using your navel to slide but it catches against the sheet. Feyd slaps your cheeks again you cry out “I said climb!” He enjoys watching you spread your self open as you struggle, he becomes aroused “ If you can’t climb up I’m going to fuck you ruthlessly” he says. He strokes his cock watching you from behind.
You really try to push your body up on the bed. Finally you hook your knee and slide on your chest forward and pull your other leg up. You roll onto your back with your hands tied and let out a light laugh because you made it.
Feyd loves nothing more than fucking you as hard as he can. He didn’t think you could make it now he has to be gentle.
You giggle looking into his eyes seeing the defeat. He climbs on top of you and rests back on his heels. Feyd picks you up around your torso and lines you up over his lap.
He slowly pulls you down onto his cock and you moan for him. With your hands tied behind your back you feel helpless as he guides his length inside of you.
Using your tied arms as leverage he forces you to settle on the base of his shaft. You cry out as he stretches your clit around his girth. You rock and clench on him tying to adjust to his size. He is so deep it feels like he is piecing your cervix. He slowly begins taking you up and down his length.
You moan out his name as his large cock squeezes through your tight walls. He works you at a gentle pace until his cock swells stretching you wide, you feel his shaft start throbbing. He wants to cum. He slips his cock all of the way out as you gasp. He places you face down on the bed your pussy is completely in the air.
“Feyd pleas—-“ you stop yourself from whining as he pushes his cock through your entrance “ uhhh Feyd” his cock enters you deliciously. He grabs the top of your cheeks and rails into you with your hands tied behind your back. Your pussy smacks against him as you make depraved moaning sounds. Each thrust that jolts your body sends you closer to an orgasm. You are wound so tight you can’t breathe.
You hear him growl as his hips stutter and you cum in unison. He pounds your walls as they milk his cock. He lets out a choked off moan. He will never get used to how pleasurable the sensation is. A shiver runs down his spine as he slips his cock out of you. He leans back grabbing a knife from the sex toy table. He cuts your hands free.
You let them fall at your sides on the bed as you pant heavily. He fucked every thought out of your head.
He presses a button on the side of his bed that turns all the room lights off filling it with moonlight from the balcony. He gets under the sheet and beckons you to come to him. You wearily climb and plop down on his chest. He hopes he distanced and distracted you enough to never ask about his family again.
Remote Pleasure
The next morning Feyd awakens back into his routine. Looking over at you in bed he sees your back is to him. He has no time to pleasure you, he slowly trails his finger tips down your spine instead and leaves you to rest. His uncle has summoned him to the meeting hall after his fight training.
He enters his decontamination chamber to sanitize his body and then cleanse his mouth. He puts on his chest plate with light fighting gear. He pushes open the large chamber doors closing them quietly behind him to let your rest.
He descends the stairs to the fighting pit. His sparring partner Ghul and his barb men look up and hail his return. Ghul chides him. “Blessings of the ancient ways the great Feyd Rautha is not defiling his new wife and will be able to spar today” he and the barb men collectively laugh and cheer.
“I defeat you without effort every time Ghul this time should be no different, as for my barb men stand around as usual while I do all the fighting what use are you to me?” Feyd smirks taunting them.
Feyd will fight in the arena with his nine barb men at his side. They are skilled fighters sworn to protect his life. They throw and attach hooked barbs into his opponents flesh. They pull them back or weaken the attacks depending on how well it helps Feyd Routha secure a triumphant victory.
Ghul and Feyd prepare to fight with blunted knives to keep his reflexes sharp. They get into formation encircling each other to parry and attack.
You awaken from a dream of Feyd winning the fights holding his knife triumphantly in the air.
You turn and find the bed is empty Feyd has gone. You hear the clanging of knives just beyond the doors. He is below on the first floor in his courtyard training pit. You get out of bed and fill the large stone basin with warm water and bathe your body then rinse your face and mouth.
Your wrap in one of Feyds black fabric robes and explore his room. This is the only time you have been left unattended.
You know he has his knife collection in one of the giant locked display cases but your mind has been burning with curiosity to know what could be in the other.
You stand infront of the mystery case and hold your hand around the lock. You run your finger down the key opening it is a rectangle with 3 prongs.
You look over to his knife case. Dangling out of its lock is a ring with another key of that same description. You rush and remove the keys from the knife case and bring them to the mysterious display case.
The key successfully fits. As it hinges open you are shocked by the contents. Filled top to bottom in neatly organized rows there are; masks, whips, paddles, spiked collars, leashes, cock rings, leather restraints, blind folds and things you cannot even identify yet.
Your eyes grow weary scanning and processing all of the sexually depravity he has participated in. There are vials of liquids and tinctures. You see a familiar glowing color liquid you believe he has used on you before.
Assuming they are all for sex purposes you open the vial and place one drop on your finger. You seal it replacing it back. You take your covered finger and press it on your clit. When it begins pulsing you are certain it is the same one he used to soften you for sex before.
Your ears tingle as you realize the sound of the swords have stopped for quite sometime . You quickly lock the display case and return the key in the lock of the other just the way he had it. You hurry to the basin room and stand against the counter looking in the mirror fixing your hair.
Feyd returns pushing the large chamber doors open just at that moment. You let out a breath you weren’t caught. Your Bene Gesserit intuition is increasing each day.
You watch him remove his chest plate. He comes and clings to you holding you around your waist.
He is sweaty and hot exerted from his training.
Looking in the reflection he stares at the two of you together. Your radiant skin shines in comparison to his pale whiteness.
The toxicity of centuries on Giedi Prime has made all inhabitants hairless and pigment-less. He kisses your temple then strips completely naked to use the decontamination chamber.
You watch as he enters and locks himself inside. He presses his hands to the wall and steps his legs apart. Bursts of steam spray every inch of his body coating him in antimicrobial soap. A ring descends from the ceiling he lifts his hands above his head. The ring lowers spraying each row of his body from head to toe.
He wipes the water From his face as all the instruments lock away. Hot hair fills the shower drying him completely. Feyd steps out form the chamber looking brand new. You are awe struck using only the water basin to bathe.
He walks through his main chamber completely naked. You follow to watch his perfectly muscled figure walk as his cock swings. He presses a button on the wall that releases a hidden panel it ejects a stream of black out fits on a rod. He skims a few before settling on a high collared black one. He presses a button at the end of the rod and they all stack back into the hidden panel.
His muscular white body is stunning you can’t stop staring at his small waist and especially his long cock. As he gets dressed you become aroused as you watch him.
Once he’s fully clothed he comes and kisses your lips to leave. But you hold his hand tugging him to stay. “My uncle has summoned me, I do not know what he intends to meet about but I do not want to upset him.”
He is looks down at you finally noticing you wearing his robe. He smiles as he opens the front to reveal your breasts. He begins softly massaging them in his hands getting distracted as his fingers find your nipples. He pinches and pulls at them sending shocks to your core.
You look into his eyes as you begin to pant. You are getting wet as he plays with your sensitive buds “I want to soak my cock inside of you …but I cannot miss this meeting.” He says as he look back into your pleading eyes. An idea forms in his mind and he smiles mischievously.
“Come” he says taking your hand. He helps you to lie back on the bed. You watch as he goes to his knife cabinet removing the key to open what you can confirm is his kink cabinet. A lump forms in your throat already knowing the contents but everything he does has pleasured you intensely thus far. You secretly anticipate what he will do to you next.
He retrieves a few items and returns to sits on the bed next to you. In his hand is a gold sphere and two rings. One ring has a glowing green dot the other has a white glowing dot “I can not please you now but this will do the job very well until I return” he says with a sinister grin. He motions for you to take off your robe.
Once naked he has you lay on your back with your knees bent, he pushes them apart. He rests the golden sphere at your entrance and pushes it with two fingers until your walls sucks it in. A light sound of pleasure escapes your lips It feels heavy inside as it slowly sinks all the way to your cervix. He quickly puts the gold ring with the white dot on your finger.
“When you orgasm, use the ring on your finger to draw the sphere out or it will start all over.” He smiles wickedly as he says it. Thinking of you actually enduring an immediate second orgasm with this device. He will have to rescue you from a pleasure so great it will render you brainless. You nod smiling back at him you always obey his commands now.
He puts the other golden ring with the glowing green dot on his finger. He softly taps the gold band until the green dot begins blinking and then he waits. When the sphere warms and senses your vitals the green dot on his ring turns solid green.
He rubs around the gold band entirely with his finger and the sphere begins to roll up and down in side of your body like a pushing cock. You toss your head back and deeply moan as your body covers in chills.
The feeling is so new and intense you begin heavily panting losing all your thoughts. The sphere expands you at separate times internally . You begin to moan unending and you want to cum from the pleasure. “Feyd!” Is all you can cry out unable to even think.
His cock twitches. He has set it on the highest setting to get a preview of how the sphere affects your body. He already wants to ejaculate over navel as you cum but he has no time at all. He quickly rolls his thumb on the ring so the intensity is at its lowest level. The sphere slowly spins in place at your cervix. You are able to think again.
He leans over you and kisses your mouth “I will play with you while I am away I will make you cum and I will be ready to make you cum again when I return” you are shivering as you nod.
He kisses your forehead and rubs his thumb against his ring. It begins to roll up and down inside of you slowly. You gasp and close your eyes enjoying the feeling. He departs while you are distracted in bliss. If he looks back he will stay and fuck you.
He pulls the doors closed behind him hearing you begin to softly moan. He shudders from arousal. He looks at his ring it is still solid green. He knows when the dot on his ring turns from green to red you are having an intense orgasm. He has a a look of pure contentment on his face as he heads off to meet his uncle.
When he arrives at the large inscribed black doors of the grand meeting hall it is flanked by two soliders. They open the doors for him, Feyd enters.
His uncle is seated at the head of the enormous meeting table and upon seeing Feyd immediately begins yelling and chastising his recent actions. Instead of sitting at the meeting table Feyd climbs the stairs up to the platform and sits on his throne.
He tunes out his uncles ranting far more enthralled to play with his ring. He puts one leg over the armrest and his elbow on the other. He rests back in his throne and slides his thumb across the gold band increasing the thrusts inside of you to the maximum.
He smiles tilting his head back in wicked satisfaction knowing the sphere is railing your walls with pleasure right now. You have been enduring the highest setting for about 40 seconds and he knows you are falling apart about to cum.
The dot suddenly turns red and his eyes light up knowing at this moment you are having the most intense orgasm in his chamber. When he thinks about how you are squirting all over his bed his cock gets so hard he palms himself trying to calm down but is unable to. His breathing increases as he thinks of making an excuse to depart the meeting and go fuck you. He is charged with too much sexual arousal.
“FEYD RAUTHA HARKONNEN!” His uncles voice suddenly booms at him from the steps leading up to his throne. Feyd quickly sits up realizing he’s missed the entire first half of his uncles tirade, his cock begins to soften as he tries to calm his breathing. His uncle floats from the the bottom of the stairs directly into Feyds face using his anti gravity device
“You are losing your entire focus due to her influence! The gladiatorial fights are paramount! Even though we drug the warriors and poison your blades you must still fight and put on a valiant show. We need the people to think you are worthy of becoming Emperor! ”
Feyds eyes glare into his uncles. Only he and a select few others know this dark secret. Feyd can truly fight and would enjoy shedding blood without the need of weakening his opponents. But his uncle knows Feyds ascension to become Baron is far too valuable to take such a risk.
The Baron saw great potential in Feyd from a young age, preferring him to his older brother Rabban. When Feyds mother was brutally murdered the Baron took stewardship of both boys.
The Baron could clearly see the path ahead of him. One day, a Harkonnen would be Emperor. Not himself, and no spawn of his loins. But a Harkonnen.
The Baron knew it would not be the raging older Glassu Rabban but the younger calculated Feyd Rautha. There was a sharpness and ruthlessness to Feyd that proved to the Baron he was the worthy successor of the Harkonnen dynasty.
Which is why the Baron tells Feyd of his plans to have you removed from his presence. He can not let anything interfere with his grooming of Feyd to become a malevolent Emperor. He wants the marriage political, cold, and lifeless. Feyds baroness and breeder without influence.
“Your wife will be removed from your quarters immediately and you will no longer be permitted see her. She will attend your birthday and the gladiatorial fights for ceremonial purposes of course but after that she will be relocated out of the fortress entirely”
Feyds voice drops almost to a growl as he glares at an uncle in disbelief “How long will she be removed from me?” He asks deliberately. He narrows his eyes and tilts his head to the side with an eerie coldness as he awaits the answer.
“Until she births your heir of course! After that you will never have need to see her again” the Baron says it with a wicked smile.
Feyds black teeth grit so hard they click.
“Your pleasure slaves will be sent to satisfy your lust, soon you will forget about her. Any female can take her place” the Baron says it off handedly as he floats back down to the meeting hall table.
Feyd slowly rises from his throne and balls his hands into fists. He clenches his jaw so hard he has to force his lips from baring his black teeth.
The insatiable desire to finally murder his uncle overwhelms all of his senses as he takes two steps down from his throne. Feyd is ready to take the Baron life. Ripping the thick cable from his anti gravity device and wrapping it around the Barons fat neck, strangling him until his eyes pop out from their orbits. Before he takes another step his rational returns he can not go through with that plan.
He will become Baron but never be honored as Emperor. His people may even revolt against him at the start of his rule. He will upset the great houses and his ascension may even be overturned to his older brother Rabban, after all it wouldn’t be the first family member he’s killed. Feyd desires gaining complete power as emperor above all else it is too deeply engrained in his psyche.
He begins to formulate a way to have both. He will fast track his ascension to the throne by murdering his uncle in a way can not be traced back to him. He will keep his false honor in tact.
The Library
After your remove the sphere from your body with the ring you lay back on the bed panting and shivering. It made your mind shift away from reality, which you did not think was possible. You lost your ability to move after you orgasmed. You lay on the soaked sheets realizing you should will yourself to get up.
You rinse the sphere and place it with the ring on Feyds sex toy table at the foot of his bed.
You use his decontamination chamber to clean your body and get dressed. You push open the main doors to leave the chamber. Feyds Page is waiting as instructed. “Na Baroness I have been ordered to escort you, where would you like to go?” You smile as you answer “The library please.”
After finding the main corridor of the fortress the Page brings you to the large red library doors and bows leaving your presence. He waits near by incase you have further need of his assistance.
You push the large red doors open and step inside. The library is enormous. The only room with color, red designed rugs cover the expanse of the floor. The bookshelves are carved into stone walls reaching all the way to the ceiling. The room is three stories high. There are stairs and balconies to reach the higher levels.
The couches are like lay down beds soft and squishy accented with red pillows. You press your hand into the black fabric seat. It is so spongy and perfect to curl up in. There are orbs you can tap on throughout the space if you need more light.
You take an orb in your hand and it begins to glow. You use it to head to the section marked H. You scan your fingers along the shelves with a mission until you find what you are looking for. Harkonnen Dynasty Lineage.
You have a burning desire to find out about Feyds biological parents and how he came to live with his uncle. You dare not ask Feyd you have tried once and his response was viscerally painful. He is well reserved on topics regarding his upbringing.
Another mystery is discovering the identity of the second male Harkonnen in the portrait of the meeting hall. You take your orb and curl up on a couch. As you sit it conforms to your shape and you smile feeling at ease. You begin to read.
After a few chapters you discover Feyds paternal last name is Rabban. He was born on the Harkonnen planet of Lankiveil. He has an older brother named Glassu Rabban, which means he has surpassed his older brother in being chosen as the next Baron. This aligns with the photo of the second male Harkonnen in the meeting hall.
You read two more chapters until you come to the section of his parents. His father is Abulurd Rabban your eyes suddenly skip ahead startled to read the ruling of Feyds mother Emmi Rabbans death: Matricide. Your eyes widen in fear understanding one of her own sons killed her. Your apprehension grows as you continue to read further.
Suddenly the doors of the library slam open you jump up startled. Two guards enter with the Barons Lord in Waiting “Na Baroness you are being relocated” he says flatly. He and the guards escort you form the library.
Feyds Agony
Feyd leaves the meeting hall and sprints to his chambers. His Page stops him as he regains his breath at the doors before he can go inside “Na Baron they have taken your Baroness away I have witnessed it with my own eyes” Feyd pushes him aside and bursts into his chamber. All of your things are missing, the bed is still un-made from the morning, you are no where in sight.
He still searches the room not ready to face his fears and finally looks to the balcony. He sees through the sheer curtain there is a figure standing at the banister.
He parts the curtains to find his pleasure slave Vîces. A Giedi Prime woman bald and pale. She smiles at him and bends over the railing wearing only a black corset her backside covered in lashes on full display to him. A tray of whips at her side. She has obviously been summoned as a gift from his uncle.
Vîces especially enjoys being afflicted with punishment when Feyd is furious. She has missed his spankings so much she is already aroused seeing the rage in his eyes. He slowly picks up a whip from the tray dragging the coil he twists and untwists it to snap correctly.
He grips the handle tighter before his wrist goes limp and he stops. “Leave my chambers” he says quietly. He feels not rage but another emotion that is far worse in his chest. Warm liquid brims at his eye line, and he touches the corner releasing a tear he stares at his finger tips in disbelief. She is shocked at his uncharacteristic behavior and quickly puts on her robes and leaves.
Feyd climbs back into his bed resting on his stomach he feels defeated. The sheets still smell like you and he presses his face to them remembering only an hour ago you had an orgasm there. He shifts on his back and unclasps his pants freeing his cock. He wants to feel anything over this emotional pain. He separates his shirt open and closes his eyes thinking of you. He remembers the way his cock splits you apart, how he wanted to please you when he returned.
He pulls a bottle of lubricant from his night stand and coats his palm. He begins slowly stroking his hardening length. He groans in pleasure thinking about your face, he thrusts into his hand harder. He remembers the sounds you that escape your lips when he makes you cum. His abs tighten and his cock begins to twitch. He pumps his shaft faster until he feels that all too familiar throbbing. He bites his lower lip as he ejaculates.
He opens his mouth and groans as warm cum spills down his shaft and onto his hand. He feels the aching feeling forming in his chest again but refuses to accept it.
He keeps pumping his shaft with his own cum forcing himself to remain hard. He roars loudly and fucks his hand brutally. The slapping sounds of his fist increases with his pace. Slippery with his own cum he finally bursts more ropes from his cock that leak down his hand and onto his abs. He is gasping chest heaving.
He takes the sheets wiping his abs and cock then strips it from the bed hurling it across the room as he finally yells in agony.
Quarters of the Baroness
You have been locked in your quarters for days. You have two handmaidens that wait upon you at all hours. If the room were less ornate, it would feel like a prison.
On the first day you recive a scroll from the Bene Gesserit confirming their attendance to the gladiatorial fights. They want to see the prospective Feyd Rautha and congratulate you on the announcement of your pregnancy. Twelve sisters will be attending in total.
You smile and almost weep realizing that some form of normalicy will return to this insane planet you’ve come to know as you’re home.
The eve before the gladiatorial fights there is a knock at the door the handmaiden opens it. The seamstress has arrived with her assistants. They are carrying two gowns for you. You know the shimmering blue one is for the Gladiatorial event. You touch the black one with a glistening design “ What is the dress for?” You ask in confusion.
The seamstress has her assistants hold it up. It is a floor length gown with a high thigh slit, backless and sleeveless with a low “V”cut connecting the front to a hood. It is beautiful. “This one is for your Na Barons Birthday celebration after the fights on the same day!” She says with a smile. “ Na Baron Feyd Rautha knew exactly how he wanted you to dress on his birthday” she says as she admires the dress.
She worked tirelessly to Feyds specifications to make it right. “ Feyd made this for me?” She nods with a big grin. You are still trying to get over the fact you didn’t know it was Feyds upcoming birthday. You are shocked to realize you know so little of him.
The seamstress continues “When you wear the black one I have a special modification.”She pulls the dress up revealing the hidden lining. “Because the slit is so high I had to have the snap seam sewn inside to protect your modesty.” She tries not to giggle as she remembers telling Feyd a slit that high will leave you open to exposure. But luckily she is talented enough to fix the design.
She continues “You pull the gown on as usual and snap the buttons together that way from the side no one can have a peek at the Na Baroness” you giggle and thank her. The assistants hang the dresses on display in the closet and the seamstress bids you farewell as they depart.
When you finally settle to finally sleep, there is yet another knock on the door. You hear lots of whispering at the entrance. The handmaiden knocks before entering your room. “There is a gift here but it can only be accepted by your hands.”she says. You sit up and wrap your robe tighter. As you step to the entrance you see Feyds Page bow to you. He is holding a metallic box with a lock, the key in his other hand “I was instructed you are to use it immediately” he says. You take the items and thank him he bows again and quickly leaves .
The handmaidens become nosy knowing it is from Feyd and you are banned from contact. You quickly enter your chambers and lock the door before they can speak.
You sit on the bed to unlock and unhinge the box. Resting inside is the golden sphere and the ring with a white dot. Your heart swells and you smile for the first time in days realizing this is something directly snuck in from Feyd.
You put the gold band with the white glowing dot on your pointer finger. You grab a towel and place it between your legs and relax against your pillows. You place the box on your night stand. You collect the sphere in your hand and spread your legs apart pushing it into your entrance. After it slowly sinks inside you wait. You focus on any signs of movement but the sphere remains still.
When it slowly begins spinning inside you light up in excitement. The ball begins to slowly roll up and down inside of you. You let out a moan and slap your hand over your mouth. The handmaidens are in the next room. The vision of Feyd naked in his bed stroking his cock at the same speed makes you completely give in. You close your eyes and imagine him as you rest back against your pillows.
You quickly lose your thoughts when the sphere speeds up. Your chest begins heaving as you knit you brows. A moan escapes your lips and then another. You wish it was Feyds cock as the orbs thrusts inside of you. Your abs tighten and you relent into an orgasm grabbing a pillow to stifle your moans. You release liquid all over the towel it feels so good you shiver. You clean yourself up and lay back against the pillows.
As you come down your body is frozen in place unable to move, you wonder if Feyd came at the same time making a smile spread across your face. You quickly sit up and retrieve the sphere out of you with your ring finger before it starts all over. You rinse it and return it to its case. After you turn off the lights you climb in bed and finally drift off to sleep.
Tommorow you will see Feyd again in all his glory at the gladiator fights in the arena. You dream of being at his side again.
To Be Continued …
Up Next Part 3: Available Now
Feyd in the Arena | Feyd Birthday Smut | Kinky Smut
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𐔌 ᩧ ຼ ˳ Sukuna had never felt so out of place in his own skin. After centuries of reigning terror, his defeat left him not only physically weakened but emotionally gutted. For the first time, he felt the sharp sting of something he had always ignored—emptiness. And with that emptiness came a strange desire he couldn’t understand. He craved peace, something softer. Gentler.
It disgusted him. The great Ryomen Sukuna, reduced to chasing something so fragile.
But even more unsettling was you. A stranger, someone he’d encountered by accident, yet everything about you seemed to pull him in. He didn’t understand it, couldn’t make sense of why his gaze always found you, why your smile tugged at the parts of him he thought were dead. You, with your simple existence, had become a curiosity, a distraction.
But how could he, a monster born of curses and destruction, ever be near you? Not as he was.
So, Sukuna tried something unthinkable. He tried to appear human.
He stood in front of the cracked mirror of a dimly lit bathroom, staring at his reflection. His face, covered in jagged black curse markings, was an eternal reminder of what he truly was. A monster. He scowled, cursing under his breath as he grabbed a tube of foundation. The makeup smeared across his skin, hiding the marks, but it couldn’t hide the disgust brewing in his chest. Covering himself up like this… it was humiliating.
He pulled a hoodie over his head, oversized and loose, hiding his extra pair of arms that hung uselessly under the fabric. His reflection barely looked like himself, and that was the point. The great Sukuna, tamed and muted, reduced to something that blended in with the humans.
He hated it. He hated how much of himself he had to bury just to get close to you.
The first time he saw you after disguising himself, it was in a coffee shop. You sat alone, the warm afternoon sun framing you in a way that made him pause. His heart, if he could even call it that, stuttered in his chest. You looked so peaceful, so unlike anything he’d ever known.
He approached cautiously, his steps heavy despite his best efforts to appear nonchalant. When you looked up, your eyes locking with his, Sukuna felt a strange tightness in his throat. He was used to people staring at him in fear, but you… you just smiled. There was no fear, no hesitation.
“You’re new here, aren’t you?” you asked, your voice gentle and curious.
He forced a nod, his voice gruff. “Yeah. Something like that.”
You didn’t press him for details, and somehow, that made it worse. Sukuna wanted to tell you, to tear down this flimsy disguise and show you the monster underneath, just to see if you’d still smile at him the same way. But he couldn’t. He was trapped between wanting your softness and fearing it.
You gestured to the empty seat beside you, your eyes warm. “You can sit with me if you want.”
He hesitated, gripping the fabric of his hoodie with his hidden lower hands, before sitting down stiffly. The moment felt wrong, unnatural. He was a curse, a creature born from violence, and yet here he was, sitting in a café, pretending to be something he wasn’t.
Time passed, and somehow, Sukuna found himself coming back. Day after day, he returned to the same place, to you, with your endless patience and kind words. It infuriated him, how easily you accepted him. It made him feel weak, vulnerable in ways he hadn’t known possible.
One day, as the two of you sat together in silence, your hand reached up to brush a stray lock of hair from his face. The contact was fleeting, but it sent a shock through his entire being. He flinched, instinctively pulling away, but not before your fingers grazed the skin where his curse markings lay hidden beneath the makeup.
“You seem like you’ve got a lot going on,” you said softly, your gaze searching his face.
Sukuna’s chest tightened, his mind racing. You didn’t know. You couldn’t know. But your words hit deeper than they should have. For the first time in centuries, he felt… seen. Not as a king, not as a curse, but as something else. Something almost human.
“I’m fine,” he muttered, his voice rough as he pulled his hood lower to shield his face.
You didn’t push him. Instead, you smiled, that same gentle smile that drove him mad. “You don’t have to hide from me. I like you, you know. For who you are.”
Sukuna’s heart lurched. For who he was? If only you knew. If only you could see what lay beneath the hoodie, the makeup, the pathetic attempt at normalcy. You wouldn’t be smiling then.
He wanted to laugh, to sneer at your words, but all he felt was a dull ache in his chest. You didn’t understand, but somehow, that made it worse. He didn’t deserve your kindness, your acceptance. He wasn’t soft. He wasn’t human. But you— you made him wish he could be.
Days turned into weeks, and every time Sukuna saw you, the pull grew stronger. It was torture. Every smile you gave him felt like a slow, agonizing burn, melting away the icy exterior he had spent centuries building. He couldn’t shake the feeling that you saw something in him, something he couldn’t even see in himself.
And it terrified him. ‿ ݂۫ ׄ ༊࿔
#၇୧ ⠀ᅟ𓈒⠀ ɓɑɓɓᥣes⠀⠀( ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ഒ ⠀⠀⁺#sukuna x reader#sukuna x you#sukuna x y/n#ryomen sukuna x reader#ryomen sukuna x you#ryomen sukuna x y/n#sukuna fluff#ryomen sukuna fluff#anime x female reader#jjk spoilers#. . ˚˖𓍢ִ
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worthy of love — RAFE CAMERON
authors note something short and cute for you guys. also, rafe deserves to be treated with the love that he desires. he just wants to be understood yall.
paring mean!rafe x soft!reader
summary soft!reader wants to show mean!rafe that he's worthy of love but he pushes reader away until one day he finally knows what love truly feel like.
warnings neglect, feeling unworthy of love, ward being a shitty father, and a lovely happy ending.
Rafe Cameron believed he would never be capable of love in his life.
Raised in a family where love was a rare commodity, Rafe grew up believing that affection, vulnerability was a weakness that should be avoided at all costs. But little did he know that someone was about to turn his life upside down and teach him the true meaning of love.
You.
His father, Ward Cameron, is part of the reason Rafe is the way he is. Ward tells him to man up rather than express his feelings and be vulnerable. Overall, his father has never treated him with the proper care compared to his two younger sisters. This sent Rafe into a downward spiral, leading to a darker path in his life. Rafe held his guard up.
You entered his world like a breath of fresh air, bringing with you a warmth and tenderness he had never felt before. Rafe first rejected your presence, pushing you away with his harsh remarks and cold demeanor. But you saw through his strong facade, understanding the agony and vulnerability that lay underneath the surface.
"Why do you treat me like this? I’m not someone that deserves to be loved."
Rafe was initially perplexed as to why, of all the people on the island, someone as kind and gentle as you would want to be with him.
One of the many things Rafe would tell you when you tried to show him that he’s capable of being loved by someone, he would shut you out immediately when you tried showing him.
People said you were crazy for pursuing Rafe Cameron. His reputation in Kildare is immense. You just chose to ignore what other people had to say because you felt Rafe deserved love.
The first time you heard those words come out of his mouth, your heart broke into a million pieces. Behind all of the roughness, coldness, and unpredictable behavior, he is someone who wants to be loved.
Rafe continued to push you away for the longest time, hoping you would get the hint. Finally, giving in after protracted arguments. For far too long, he had kept his guard up to protect himself. He did not want to feel weak for expressing himself. Rafe noticed how long you stayed by his side.
You gradually began to break down the walls Rafe had placed around his heart. You showed patience and understanding by refusing to give up on him, even when he tried to push you away. Rafe became increasingly drawn to you as time passed, yearning for the love and acceptance that had always escaped him.
Rafe started to trust again as your relationship deepened. He progressively exposed a gentler, softer side of himself, something he had never seen before. He realized there are individuals out there, like you, who care passionately and will be by his side through thick and thin.
All he ever wanted was to feel fully understood and seen. You came into his life when he was in the deepest pain and saved him. You showed he’s worthy of love, compassion, gratitude, and vulnerability are truly like, and there is nothing wrong with it. He transformed into a very different person than anyone could have predicted.
"You're the most amazing person I've ever laid eyes on, baby," Rafe said with a lovely smile on his lips, sliding the front strand of your hair behind your ear as you moved your body closer to his and closed your eyes.
“I love you so much rafey” kissing his bare shoulder a few times.
“And I love you more,”
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Ok I know you said time won't make them nicer to each other.
But I need her reaction to Carlos being diagnosed with appendicitis. Maybe she's the one that takes him to the hospital?!
The Uphill Battle {2} || CS55
Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, smut, name calling, angst
WC: 2.9k
Part One
Carlos was grumpier than usual. And that was saying something since he had been in a mood since the news broke about Lewis taking his seat. You could understand that after losing seats to guys all the time before getting a spot in the Academy. Carlos, however, was not used to that feeling and it showed as he pushed himself harder at each training.
“You’re too weak,” he taunted as you wiped the sweat from your brow and started another set of reps with trembling arms. “It’s like you don’t even want to be in F1.”
You let the weight bar fall into the shelf and sat up. “Go project yourself onto someone else, you miserable shit.”
After taking second place at the feature race in Bahrain you had shown you had the drive for F1, but it didn’t seem to change his training approach. He was still firmly on the path of insult until you explode and prove him wrong. To be fair, it had worked so far.
A muscled arm, followed by a bare chest, blocked your way when you stood up, a sneer pulling at his lips. “You’re not funny.”
“I wasn’t joking. Now get out of my way, you have free practice to get ready for.”
He looked at the clock on the wall and sighed. He hadn’t meant to let time get away from him but when he found you in the gym he decided to finish his warm up routine alongside you. It had been a mistake because he couldn’t help but pester and critique you until he completely forgot what he was meant to be doing.
“Fine, but you need to stay and finish your set. That was just embarrassing to watch.”
“I’m done. With you. And with your training. Go fuck yourself, Junior.” You shoved past him, your elbow connecting with his gut, before you made your way to the stack of towels. You felt his presence follow you to the changing rooms and he closed the door to the shower cubicle.
“You’re done when I say you are done,” Carlos growled, turning you to face him before he pressed your back to the cold tile wall.
You tipped your head back and laughed darkly. “Only for the next nine months, then I’m Lewis’ problem. Or, maybe I’ll get the golden boy as my PT. Charles seems sweet and kind, I wouldn’t mind testing his patience.”
“Listen here, you little-” Whatever threat you would have ignored was lost as you flipped the handle of the cold tap and washed it gush out of the showerhead and straight into Carlos’ face.
“You were saying?”
“Brat.” The timber in his voice had the desired effect as his hand enveloped your throat and pulled you under the cold spray. His lips crashed against yours and his thigh nudged your legs apart, your hips riding the thick muscle as you kissed him back just as passionately. “I really hate you.”
You grinned, but it was more a baring of teeth ready to sink into his skin. “I don’t even hate you, that’s how little I feel about you.”
His palm glided over your ribs, touching the flesh bared by the sports bra you trained in, and slipped between the waistband of your shorts. His fingers spread your folds and curled into your core as your head fell back against the tiles.
“You feel something,” Carlos chuckled, dipping his head down to leave his mark on the swell of your breast. “Or you wouldn’t feel so fucking wet.”
“God I hate it when you open your mouth, just fuck me already.”
Carlos pulled the elastic waistband and let it snap back against your skin. The twanging pain was instant but then it was gone as he dragged the material down your legs. Another ache flared as he sunk his teeth into the soft supple skin on your thigh and you cried out at the heat that radiated from the indents he left behind.
“Fucking savage,” you growled, but you both knew how much you liked it that way.
“Sticks and stones, malcriada.”
You were needy, impatient, and well aware someone would come looking for Carlos as the countdown to free practice began. The lure of a verbal repartee would have to wait if you wanted some pleasure to balance out the pain in the arse that was Carlos. You pushed Carlos onto the bench where your dry towel had been abandoned and he lifted his hips for you to drag his shorts off.
“You gonna ride this di-“ You slapped your hand over his mouth to silence him and straddled his hips, sinking down on his cock with a moan that echoed around the changing room.
“Be a good boy and keep the commentary to yourself if you want a happy ending,” you warned as you let your hand fall to his shoulder and started to roll your hips. He heeded your words and bit his bottom lip to keep from saying something that would leave him with blue balls.
His hands gripped your waist and guided you up and down, setting rhythm that had you bouncing on his dick and an orgasm quickly building. The heat flashing across your body was the perfect contrast to the droplets of cold water collecting on your back and shivering down your spine.
“Fuck, harder,” you begged as your head fell back and he grazed his teeth over your throat. Your gasp filled the small cubicle as he nipped sharply at your skin and you raked your nails down his chest, earning a deep groan from his parted lips. The pained sound made your cunt clench and flutter before he suddenly stood up and turned you to face the wall. The emptiness within your body was quickly filled with the snap of his hips and his hand slapped over your mouth to muffle the cry at the sudden fullness.
“Shut up and take it,” he ordered quietly in your ear. “This is what you asked for.”
Carlos’ hands fell to your hips, bruising your skin with their harsh grip as he pounded into you. The slap of your bodies colliding filled the small space and your eyes rolled back into your head as your legs began to tremble. Your breathing deepened and you forgot where you were as your mind emptied and your body exploded.
“Fuck, that feels good,” Carlos moaned, your walls tightening around him with your orgasm. A wordless grunt warmed your ear before he sealed his lips over your racing pulse and left his mark while he filled your cunt.
Your forehead pressed to the cool tile as you regained your breath and Carlos pulled out, chuckling as he watched his cum leak down your still trembling thighs. “God, you’re a whore.”
“That’s more of an insult to you, desperado,” you teased. “Should I send the invoice to you or Sainz Senior?”
You forced yourself upright and stepped under the cold spray to see his smirk fade as you washed his seed away. You both jumped at the loud knock on the bathroom door and a voice called out, “Carlos, are you in there? You’re going to be late.”
“Just a sec,” Carlos shouted back before attempting to step under the now warm spray. You cast your hands out, splaying your fingers across his torso, catching the pained wince that crossed his face.
“Tsk, tsk, Daddy’s calling,” you said with a shake of your head.
He looked down at himself, the evidence of what transpired glistening on his cock. “Seriously?”
It was your turn to smirk and push him back further before waving him off. “Good luck.”
Free practice was already underway by the time you finished showering and changing into fresh Ferrari merch. No one really paid you any mind as you found a good spot on the balcony above the pit lane and watched the final 30 minutes of track time.
Despite there being better performers, your eyes kept being drawn back to your PT and the lowly 7th place he finished. You had catalogued a list of insults for him and went down to the debrief room ready to rule him up when you found him leaning against the corridor wall. Lines from his balaclava creased his cheeks and his eyes screwed shut as he clutched a hand to his stomach.
“Don’t think playing sick will let you off the hook for that performance,” you said as you crossed your arms.
There was no humour in his face, no wry amusement that usually came with your insults. Instead, he silently pushed off from the wall and made his way on towards the briefing room.
You kind of felt bad as you left the track and returned to the hotel. There had been a misstep in the turbulent dance that had been going on for months and you were left unsettled by it. Nothing on the tv could distract you enough that you finally gave up and took the elevator to Carlos’ floor. It was late but you figured he would still be awake as you knocked on his door.
“You look like shit,” you greeted, but your voice was thick with concern. “What’s wrong?”
Sweat beaded on his forehead and the sickly sheen covered his bare chest too. Reaching out, you felt his skin burning like a furnace and he swayed on his feet before leaning on the doorway.
“You don’t care, so just go,” he rasped, his voice pained and weak.
You rolled your eyes and stepped around him to see a sick bowl on the coffee table with some painkillers beside it and a rumpled blanket spread over the couch. He made to follow but he could barely hold himself up and it was only your arms that kept him collapsing. “Fuck sake, Carlos, you need a hospital.”
“Just need sleep,” he argued. His body shivered and his throat worked to swallow but you had been through enough hangovers to know what was coming. You leapt for the sick bowl and barely got it under his face before he hurled up the bright blue electrolyte drink that you spotted on the table.
“Where’s your phone and your keys?” He peeked up from the bowl pitifully and he saw the determined look on your face before pointing to the kitchen. “Can you stand on your own? Don’t look so offended, it’s a reasonable question in your state.”
“I’m fine.”
“And I’m Max Verstappen.” You let go of him for a second to see if he would crumple to the carpet but he seemed to hold himself on pure stubbornness so you dashed to the kitchen to dump the bowl in the sink and grab his belongings.
“Planning on robbing me too?” he asked as he noticed you grabbed his wallet too.
“Since I’m apparently a whore, you owe me a hefty debt,” you muttered sarcastically. “It’s for your ID, asshole.”
Carlos didn’t deign to respond as he curled one arm around your shoulders, leaning heavily into your embrace, and the other clutched his abdomen.
“You’ve been in pain since practice, haven’t you?”
“Maybe…can we just go?”
You pocketed his things and took as much weight as you could off him, using every ounce of your strength training as you guided him to the elevator. It was strange to see him so reserved in the elevator mirror as it headed down to the underground car park and it was even stranger to sit in the driver seat of his car.
“Please don’t crash it,” he murmured as you started it up and headed out into the street.
“I know you don’t believe it, but I am actually a decent driver,” you muttered. The city traffic was busy 24/7 but the satnav came in handy with the directions to the emergency room at the nearest hospital. “Should I call your dad?”
“No. It’s probably nothing but a stomach bug.”
That ‘probably nothing’ turned out to be acute appendicitis. You could have laughed at how spectacularly wrong Carlos was but you were too worried as he was wheeled away to surgery and you were left to make a phone call.
‘Do not call him Daddy Sainz,’ you reminded yourself as you entered the passcode on Carlos’ phone and hoped he wasn’t too delusional to get it right. Thankfully it unlocked and you went to his contacts. “Hello, Mr Sainz?”
“Who is this?” he asked worriedly.
“It’s Y/N, I drive for Ferrari in the Academy, uh, Carlos is my Mentor.”
“Where is my son? Why do you have his phone?”
“He’s at the hospital. They’re just taking him into surgery now to remove his appendix.”
The elder Sainz must had put you on speakerphone as you heard the noises at his end increase. “Which hospital? Why are you only calling me now?”
“King Fahad Armed Forces and you’re welcome, by the way, if it wasn’t for me your son would still be curled up on the couch in his room until it burst.”
“He said you had an attitude,” the old man muttered quietly before he resigned himself to a sigh. “Thank you. I’ll be there soon.”
You sent him the ward number that Carlos would be brought through when he was out of surgery and tried to make yourself comfortable on a vinyl chair. It must have been cozy enough as you dozed off, only waking when a nurse tapped your shoulder and smiled sweetly. “Mr Sainz is on his way up now, the operation went well.”
You rubbed your eyes and thanked her as you sat up to see almost two hours had passed. It was then you noticed a pair of brown eyes were watching curiously from across the room.
“Have you been watching me sleep?” you asked as you stretched and cracked your back.
The old man snorted a laugh and put down the almost empty styrofoam cup of black coffee. “You don’t need to wait, I can look after him from here.”
“And ruin my perfect posture for nothing? I’m fine waiting a bit longer.” You stood up and made your way to the percolator jug of black sludge and poured yourself a cup too before pacing the room. “Have you been talking with the other teams yet?”
His eyes followed you back and forth like he was trying to pick your brain apart. “About what?”
“2025. He’s too good for his F1 career to end now.”
The old man stood up too and refilled his cup. “Would you like milk and sugar?” he asked when he noticed your face scrunch at the first sip.
“Just a tiny dash of milk please, no sugar. I like my coffee like I like my men: a little dark and bitter.”
He chuckled and poured a small amount of milk into your cup before returning to his seat. “I can see why my son likes you.”
You spluttered on your mouthful and hurried to swallow the hot liquid. “You must be thinking about someone else. Carlos and I just about have a mutual understanding, and it wouldn’t be a stretch to say he borderline hates me.”
“Can’t be too many female Ferrari drivers that he mentors from the Academy, because I sincerely remember his comment about her,” the old man teased, crossing one leg over the other and staring over the rim of his cup. His eyebrow arched, daring you to correct him until he took the silence with an air of smugness.
Sounds grew along the quiet ward and soon Carlos was wheeled in on a hospital bed, parking into the empty space that had been between the two chairs. Though he looked a little sleepy, Carlos was awake and he smiled dopily from where he lay looking up at you.
“The doctors said your testicle retrieval went well.”
His smile broke with a deep laugh and he turned to look at his amused dad. “I see you met her.”
“I did.” Carlos Senior stood up and kissed his son’s forehead. “I’m glad you had her to take care of you, son. I’ll give you a few moments alone.”
You frowned as his dad left the room, waiting for the door to close quietly behind him. “What the hell were you thinking! Why didn’t you say anything? You could have died!”
Carlos shrugged and shifted carefully to get comfortable on this pillow behind his head. “We don’t exactly have the sort of relationship where we talk about things.”
You huffed and lifted his head, fluffing the pillow before shoving it back into place. “You’re a fucking idiot.”
“Back to the insults, finally.” The sick bastard smiled happily and settled into the pillow with a contented sigh. “For a moment I thought I died and went to heaven.”
“Not funny.”
“Was so, you just care about me too much to laugh. Admit it, you would’ve missed me.” He opened his hand and inched it closer to the edge of the bed.
“They must have given you the strong stuff, you’re clearly delusional,” you said with a roll of your eyes but placed your hand into his palm and he closed his fingers around them. “Your dad seems to think you like me.”
Carlos yawned and closed his eyes, but a smile played on his lips. “That’s probably the beginning of dementia. Don’t get your hopes up.”
“Trust me, I wasn’t,” you chuckled. A few moments of silence filled the room before a soft snore broke the quiet. Careful not to wake him, you kissed his cheek and whispered, “I’m glad you’re okay, Junior.”
“Knew it,” he said as he cracked one eye open and grinned.
You let go of his hand and dropped into your chair with an annoyed huff. “Asshole.”
“Brat.”
#ollie answers#carlos sainz fanfic#carlos sainz imagine#carlos sainz x reader#carlos sainz x you#carlos sainz smut#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic#formula one imagine#formula 1 fanfic#formula one fanfiction#f1 x reader
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~ Shadows Bathed In Moonlight ~ Pt.1
Azriel x Youngest Archeron Sister! Reader/OC
“Azriel we have been over this,” Rhysand brought a hand to his face, slim digits ghosting across his jaw in deep thought. “It is out of my hands- you are forbidden from telling her. Do you understand?”
“Even you cannot forbid me from such a thing,” he let out a dark chuckle is disbelief. “Tell me, High Lord, why is it that two of my brothers have found their mate- free to accept the bond, and it is I left alone- in the dark? As usual.” The Shadowsinger’s voice dripped with venom, an uncharacteristic snarl on his face as his primal instincts took over, having no outlet for such scathing carnal desires- having been barred from even spending time with his Mate.
“Azriel, you know it is not the same.”
“How is it not the same?”
“She is still coming to terms with what happened to her- her powers are still out of control-”
“Then let me help her!”
“That is Cassian’s job.”
The two men became silent as a soft rap on the door signified them of a presence- her presence, Azriel noted, her soothing scent of fresh lillies and the first rain of spring overwhelming him as her angelically golden head poked through the door nervously.
He felt his lips tug at the corner at the sight of her, Rhysand giving him a warning look at the almost unnoticeable gesture.
Azriel. The familiar voice was strained. Leave us.
“I…I apologise for interrupting,” came her gentle voice, twinkling blue eyes apologetic as Azriel was forced to tear his own away, the golden thread that only he could see taunting him in glittering ocean of her iris.
“You have nothing to apologise for,” came the Shadowsinger’s smooth reply, bowing in such a way Rhysand knew his infamous patience had been worn thin. “High Lord.”
~
Azriel had not ventured far, his shadows, uncharacteristically disobedient, willing him to stay close enough to her- his Mate in an onyx haze of longing he was beginning to suffocate under.
He watched Rhysand leave first, jaw ticking as the male rounded the corner, anticipating his sister-in-law to follow in tow, her gossamer gown and its iridescent scintillation billowing around her like a halo.
He heard her gasp as one of them curled itself around her pointed ear, cursing beneath his breath, only to hear her giggle- a liberating sound that might have exalted him from the depths of his own hell, an angelic noise that could have him repenting on his knees just to hear a single note of.
“Azzie…” she smiled up at him, as he remained still- as though he had been caught doing something he shouldn’t- he had. “Your shadows are loose again!”
Only for you- ever for you, he wanted to say, words turning to ash quicker than the breath was stolen from his lungs at the sight of her.
He wished he could ask Feyre to immortalise the moment as she stood- tendrils of him dancing across her unblemished skin, their dark illimitability neither scaring nor disgusting her as her rosy cheeks widened, their vaporous talons ardently skimming over her guiltlessness.
“S-Sorry,” was all that came out, low and stuttered, his bronzed countenance flushing at his own weakness- thanking the mother Cassian was not around to tease him for it.
“Do you think they like me?” She teased, unaware of the true weight of her words, “they never seem to latch on to anyone else…” She trailed off as he called them back, unable to stomach the sight of her- so close and yet so far from him, in such a cruel display of fate.
“It is hard for anything not to.” He mused gently, not missing the way her rosebud lips parted, the saccharine scent of her own innate longing drifting up to him in taunting waves of arousal.
“Azriel-” She had not used his name- called him that for such a long time, her fair face falling as he stormed away, wondering what she had done- had said for him to treat her so callously.
Her hand was splayed out in a fruitless attempt to stop him from abandoning her and prevent him from vanishing entirely- a frustrating habit he adopted had as of recent, baring its ugly, wilted head whenever their conversations has begun to blossom beyond anything other than formality.
In the few years she had known him he had never acted in such a way, making her slowly retreat back into the self-loathing girl he had once culled from her self inflicted cage. His own heart lurched as he felt her through the unclaimed bond- suffering, again, because of him.
He had been the one to make her feel like she was home- that he might have even been it. Yet the retreating coils of his own darkness reminded her that he could never love her.
That she would never be enough for a man such as he.
And as her soul cried for him in a manner she had yet to recognise, his own howled back in a melancholic crescendo as he cursed the Mother for always deafening his heart’s symphony.
#acotar x oc#acotar fic#fanfic#acotar#azriel#azriel acotar#azriel fanfic#azriel x oc#azriel x archeron sister#azriel shadowsinger#azriel x original character#azriel x reader
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yes. I keep coming back. now.. as much as I LOVOFOVOOVOROVRLOVE soft wonwoo, I am also a strong believer on how he would just absolutely love to manhandle you and pin you against any wall or flat surface if u piss him off, CONSIDERING HIS HEIGHT TOO ??? omg meany rough wonwoo + fucking u against a wall smut ??? (OMG & DW ABT THE RESPONSE TIME IM GRATEFUL U EVEN RESPOND !!!)
- 🦈
!! mentions of: mean!wonwoo, fingering, unprotected sex, rough sex, degradation, multiple orgasms
THANKS SM FOR BEING SO PATIENT AND UNDERSTANDING ILY TO DEATH ANON <3333 also i totally agree i think wonwoo can be a meanie if he really wants to.
i think it would take a lot to piss wonwoo off though. he doesn’t seem like the type of guy to have a short temper, i feel like you’d have to test his patience for hours for him to get upset with you. maybe you’d feel him up while he’s in the kitchen, walking up behind him and running your hands up his shirt. you’d press little kisses to the nape of his neck, slightly grazing your fingertips under the waistband of his sweats. he’d groan quietly, leaning into your touch only to have you pull away! you’d give some excuse that you had to clean or do laundry, leaving him in the kitchen all hot and bothered.
you’d prance around the apartment wearing a crop top while you clean, which happened to be wonwoo’s favorite shirt of yours. he’d catch glances of your midriff as you lift your arms to dust and would stare at your ass when you bent over to wipe the low coffee table. the way your shorts hugged your ass would make his hard-on worse, and he’d inhale deeply as he tries to push his dirty thoughts away.
after dinner he’d get on his computer and play games with his friends, somewhat forgetting about the boner he’s had all day. but then you’d come waltzing in, moving one side of his headset off his ear so you can whisper the dirtiest things to him. that would be his last straw, shooting up from his desk chair and completely discarding his headset. he’d grab you by the wrists, pulling you in for a messy kiss as he backs you into the wall. he’d spin you around clumsily, roughly biting your neck and shoulders as he pulls your shorts down. you’d be pressed firmly against the wall, feeling wonwoo’s bare cock against you as he pushes down his sweats and boxers in one go. he’d fuck you open with two fingers from behind, being kinda mean to you in the process! saying things like:
“you’re a brat. i’ve been hard all day because of you.”
“if you wanted to fuck me so bad, you could’ve just asked.”
“you don’t even deserve to feel me after all the teasing you did today.”
you’d whine and plead for him to fuck you, and he honestly wouldn’t need any convincing in the first place. he was gonna fuck you whether you deserved it or not. you felt him sliding his cock up and down your slit, pushing in slowly as you let out lewd pants. your hands would be pressed against the wall firmly, his large body practically towering over yours as he uses his strength to keep you in place. no matter how much you squirm against him wonwoo wouldn’t let up, allowing you no escape as his cock bullies your sweet spot. it would just feel so good to have wonwoo using all his strength to keep you pinned in place and fuck you dumb. he wouldn’t stop until you’ve cum multiple times on his cock and your legs are struggling to hold you up. even when your weak limbs feel like they’re about to give out wonwoo will just hold you in his arms and keep you upright, fucking you like a little doll :(
and through it all his headset would still be on, so his friends probably hear every nasty moan and whine coming from the both of you </333
#seventeen smut#seventeen#thoughts#smut#jeon wonwoo#wonwoo smut#seventeen wonwoo#wonwoo#wonu#svt smut#svt imagines#mountainficss
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twenty four hours (modern!eddie munson x fem!reader)
HOUR FIFTEEN
in which Eddie learns what it means to be honest, and you learn that some answers can only lead to more questions.
→ tropes: enemies to lovers, forced proximity, slow burn
→ warnings: strong language, smut, upside down does not exist, minors dni
→ wc: 4.7k+
→ a/n: this chapter is my enemy. that's all. all the homies hate this chapter for the hell it gave me both in writing it and posting it
masterlist.
spotify playlist.
◁ previous part, next part▷
15:00 ────────ㅇ─────── 24:00
SIX MONTHS EARLIER
You were so caught up in your own disappointment, you never saw the flash of recognition that crossed Eddie’s face. Only the anger that followed.
“Is that the dude who stood you up?”
His voice is weak as he asks the question, a breath that barely reaches your ears as you jump at the unexpected proximity.
“What?” you spin around to face him, “Jesus Christ, why are you creeping over my shoulder at my phone? Trying to see who else doesn’t follow me on Instagram?”
He cringes at your bitter tone, all the vodka you’ve turned to venom in your hurt, “You didn’t answer my question – is that him?”
“Why do you care?”
It’s the short version of the real questions binding you. A million different threads of confusion, and each one constricts you tighter than the last, all of them tangling together in the confusion.
Why do you care when you dislike me so vigorously? Why do you care when you’ll only use my answer as ammunition against me? Why do you care to hurt me so badly tonight? Why do you care if Nancy and I are friends? Why do you care to point out how I don’t belong in this group-
“I don’t,” he interrupts your internal panic, pausing the restless twisting of anxious twine.
You take a deep breath, you let your eyes wander over him, taking him in. He’s ditched the soft-spoken act, his voice coming out powerful finally. The confidence is almost overdone; he sounds as if he’s trying to make up for something not there.
You crave for distance to be put between the two of you, but he makes no move to step away as you ask, “Then why do you keep asking me?”
You can’t begin to understand him, completely unsure of where to ever start with the task. He’s a hollow stranger of the man you’d initially met that night in the bar. You’ve seen how he acts with the others, how he treats Nancy like royalty at times and how he’s warm with Argyle. You’ve seen him share joints and laughter alike with Jonathan. It’s hard to miss when he and Steve both begin to get overly passionate about a topic, Robin always finding a way to join in. Eddie is capable of warmth and care, of friendship and genuine love, but not when it comes to you.
“I was just curious, sue me.”
“If I had a good lawyer, I would,” you snap back quickly, patience wearing thin.
It makes him grin – a damn grin. Shit-eating as ever as he replies, “I know a guy if you’d like one,” and he keeps grinning, and you don’t even notice when a line is crossed and that faux glee no longer meets his eyes as he continues, “Speaking of knowing a guy – do you know the guy on your screen?”
The threads are twisting again, and the friction is leaving your blood boiling. “Fucking obviously.”
“Is he the one who stood you up?”
“Fuck off, Eddie.”
You can’t handle this right now. You’re drunk – not so drunk you won’t remember the night, but still damn drunk – and you’re overthinking. Letting the threads cut off circulation to your brain, letting yourself only be consumed with overthinking about your place within the group. You don’t even have the capacity to question why Eddie is so persistent in finding out about the bartender who left you looking like a fool the night before; you miss his genuine, burning curiosity and the anger that still broods in him as your anxiety bubbles up.
Were you and Nancy friends? Maybe Instagram did matter. Surely, she followed everyone else in the group, didn’t she?
“Why won’t you just answer the question? Why are you so damn stubb-”
“You don’t care!” you nearly scream, throwing your hands up in defeat, slamming your phone down onto the counter beside you, “You don’t care, you’ve made that clear, so I don’t understand why you need to hear me say it so fucking badly. Why do you need to hear me admit how pathetic I am? We both know where this is going – I say yes, you use it against me, I end up looking like a fool for a second night in a row,” your chest heaves and your eyes burn, but you won’t look at him. You can’t bear witness to him watching you bleed in the middle of Steve’s kitchen, “I’m not doing it. Not tonight.”
He looks as if you had slapped him. Stunned, aghast, taking a step back to finally give you the space you had so desperately craved. You don’t even really care about it anymore; the damage is done and you’re already spiraling, thanks to him.
“Do you think so little of me?”
His voice is small again. Deceptively soft, a treacherous whisper you know you can’t look into. He’s not really hurt. It’s all probably an act, a guise to get you to play into how he wants the night to go.
“With what you’ve given me to work with?” you scoff, still blinking your eyes rapidly, trying to stave off the waterworks, “Yeah. Yeah, I am starting to think that little of you.”
“Have you considered I was just trying to be friend-”
You’re not sure how his sentence is going to end, whether he would claim to be trying to be friendly or trying to be friends. You’re not sure which one makes you more livid.
It’s the second one. “You just mocked me, made me doubt if I had fucking friends all because of Nancy not following me on Instagram. Don’t you dare say you were trying to be friends with me right now.”
If you were more sober, you would have cursed yourself for blatantly revealing to him that he’d gotten to you. Your wounds were now on display for him, and you stiffened as you realized and awaited the expected handful of salt he’d be rubbing into them.
We thought he wasn’t going to come, so we invited you instead.
The fight’s only just begun and you’ve already lost – not just this battle, but the entire war.
You know they would choose him. If your friends were given the choice between you two, they’d choose him. And it shouldn’t sting, it’s expected given how long the group has known each other, but Eddie’s animosity towards you has done nothing to soothe the ache stirred by that truth. You would never ask them to choose, you know better, but you’ve always known the answer.
It’s him, not you.
“I was joking-”
“No, that was not joking. It wasn’t funny. It was mean.”
Mean, cruel, ruthless. What Eddie did rings sharply in your chest, in your brain that’s currently running on overtime to process your waves of emotions. The threads are so tight, you expect to see a puddle of blood at your feet on Steve and Robin’s kitchen floor.
“As if you’re any better,” he sharply laughs in disbelief, shaking his head, “You want to talk about mean? Let’s talk about my date with Chrissy and you’re fucking fiasco.”
Your stomach drops. The battlefield lurches into uneven ground, because what you did really was unfair. But you had been bitter, and you had been mean, and you had been….
You had been jealous. Jealous not of the romance that was honestly leaving much to be desired between him and Chrissy, but that platonic friendship. The kind you had yet to earn from him. The kind you were starting to doubt if you ever had, genuinely, with the rest of the group.
“I’m-”
“Sorry? Yeah, well, sorry don't make her call me back.”
This is where, if you were speaking with anyone besides Eddie, you offer a real, genuine apology.
But you’re speaking with Eddie. You’re burnt out from a long week, your pride still remains wounded, you’re suddenly questioning if you even have any friends, you’re drunk, and you’re speaking with Eddie.
A genuine apology would be like terrible shards, dredged up your throat and being clung to desperately by your whining pride. You’re bleeding enough as it is without that.
“My apologies, friend. I am so terribly sorry you weren’t able to get your dick wet.”
You both deserved what was coming, really. You deserved it. Because suddenly, just as it always ended up between you two, hateful words were exchanged. The worst part isn’t when Eddie snarks about how at least he can get his dick wet, unlike you, nor is it when you spit out how being a slut isn’t something to be proud of. It’s a blur of sharp tongues and jabbing knives, both of you swiping for any which way to make the other bleed.
It’s the cruelest you’ve been to each other yet, because somewhere below all of the surface-level insults, there’s real pain pulsing there. There’s your bloodied threads of anxiety, wretched thoughts and doubts as to if you should even be in this apartment tonight. There’s something more in the lines that form between Eddie’s furrowed brows as he matches your anger. His volume raises right along yours, and whenever his voice breaks over certain quick-dagger remarks, you don’t look into it. Especially not when it happens as he brings up the bartender again. All the failed dates, as he so kindly reminds you of.
“For someone who claims to not fucking care, you sure do talk a lot about those ridiculous fucking dates,” you seethe finally. Somewhere in the argument, you’d downed the rest of your drink, leaving an empty glass beside you.
“Because they prove my point!” he shouts in exasperation, “Because you… you… you can’t take a fucking hint.”
A final thread wraps around your throat. You feel as if you can’t breathe.
“And what is that hint, exactly?” your tone shakes as you ask it, past anger and past heartbreak.
Why do you still care what he thinks? Do you still care what he thinks?
The vodka says yes.
Yet Eddie says no, shaking his head immediately.
“Oh, so now you don’t want to speak your mind?” you hate how vulnerable you are, the lilt of your voice with unshed tears and the crack in your chest that you’re sure he can hear. You want to scream, you want to pound your fists against his chest. You want to throw a proper tantrum, like an absolute child. Like a little kid on the playground who no one wanted to play with, “You had all this shit to say, and now you bite your tongue? Fuck you, Eddie.”
“You don’t want to actually know,” he says flatly. He’s emotionless, and it burns you even further. Here you are, overflowing your cup with all your emotions, and his well has run dry. Even the tick you had managed to get out of his jaw is gone. All the anger, all the false signs of him actually caring have vanished.
You bite down on your lip, struggling to take a deep breath. Trying to even your anger, to bring yourself down to his level. You’re tired of the uneven battle ground. “I don’t? I never knew you were a mindreader.”
“Don’t have to be a mindreader to see the way you’re about to burst into fucking tears.”
You suddenly wish you could take the glass on the counter beside you and just toss it at him, full force. Make him physically bleed as he continues to stab at your pride, your ego, your emotions.
You’re not even sure he’d bleed at this point. Maybe he’s a fucking robot designed to do nothing but hurt you.
“Fuck you,” you state plainly as the first tear falls, repeating yourself with a more vindictive tone, “Fuck you. It’s not like you care about my fucking feelings, so just say it.”
“Fine,” he’s still so indifferent, still so emotionless, “You’re so dense, you never realize that you’re not wanted. Not by those assholes, not here-”
It’s your final breaking point. You don’t care to hear the rest of his sentence, temper taking the reins as you reach for the glass beside you.
You throw as hard as you can.
You tell yourself it’s dumb luck and bad aim when the glass shatters against the wall behind Eddie and not his shocked face. Not mercy. Not the ghost of hope, evaporating with a whisper of glass shards as the final shovel full of dirt falls upon the grave. You can see it clearly, the gravestone that marks the fresh grave: Here Lies Possibility. Here Lies All That Could Have Been.
It’s over. Eddie knows it – his emotion finally shows, but you don’t stick around to see it.
Eddie’s wrong. For once, you see you’re not wanted, and make the choice to leave.
—
HOUR FIFTEEN - 6:00 AM
“It was about you. I got banned because of you.”
You don’t know how to respond at first. Honesty hangs heavy between the two of you, suffocating in the morning light.
You asked him for honesty. He gave you honesty.
It should be a celebration, but all it does is build a pit in the bottom of your stomach that threatens to weigh you down to the bottom of his ocean.
When you finally respond, you enunciate each word carefully, “Eddie. What do you mean?”
“I got banned. From the bar. Because of you.”
“No, yeah, I gathered that,” you stress, the crease between your brow deepening, “But…. I… elaborate?”
You can hear the cars on the street below, echoing honks and engines thrumming. Songbirds sing in the distance and shops are opening; the entire world surrounding you two is awakening with a long yawn and a gentle stretch.
Your world feels as though it is coming to a full stop, but life is carrying on.
“Which part?” he breaths out a humorless laugh, “The part where I got banned, or the part where it was because of you? Because the ban is pretty straight forward – I threw a punch at a guy, he threw a punch back, now I can’t step foot in Fat Tuesday on Mill Ave-”
“The part where it’s because of me, you idiot,” you interrupt him in exasperation, “What the hell do you mean you got banned because of me?”
Silence. You’re met with silence.
Maybe honesty has run dry, just like that.
You search his face and count your luck, at least he admitted this much, before sighing, “Okay. You don’t have to tell me-”
The honesty comes bursting out of him. The well of it is anything but dry, “It was the bartender that stood you up. He was there that night after our fight, after the party at Steve’s.”
The bartender.
You hadn’t thought of that guy in ages, had long since forgotten his name and face since he’d bruised your ego.
“I…” your voice trails off, unsure and unsteady as you take tentative steps away from the balcony’s railing, “I’m… honored?”
Honored isn’t quite the right word. You really don’t know how to feel right now. Should you be thanking him, assuming it was in your honor that he started the fight? Or should you press on, test the limits of honesty and figure out if you’re interpreting this entire confession incorrectly?
Eddie chuckles dryly before he suddenly walks over to one of the two lounge chairs on the balcony, a small table separating them adorned with a crystal ashtray, “That’s all?”
“Should I not be?” Confusion bursts and blooms across your face, and Eddie’s only reaction to it is furrowed brows as he sits down, “I mean, you just told me you not only threw a punch, but took a punch from some dude who stood me up on a first date once. I think at the very least I should be-”
“I expected you to have more questions,” Eddie cuts you off as he taps his carton of cigarettes on the table beside you, more of a habit than a necessity. His knee is bouncing with each tap, an invisible beat you try to track and end up failing miserably before you take the other chair beside him, “You always have more questions.”
I do, you think immediately, I have a million and one questions I can’t ask.
Each question flurries past you in a blur, and you’re sure if they’re capable of making you dizzy that there’s no way Eddie could handle them all being thrown at him. There’s also a small part of you still terrified that pressing too far will send him running; ask one wrong thing, and Eddie will retreat to his tall, defensive walls, once again separating him from you. Progress, no matter how minimal, is progress. You can’t risk backtracking.
“Of course I do,” you repay his debt of honesty in a quiet tone, nimbly picking at the hem of his sweatshirt as it brushes your thigh.
“Then ask them.”
“If I ask you more questions, are you going to shut me out?”
The entire morning stills. The breeze turns stale, the sounds of the Sunday hustling and bustling seemingly pause.
You can’t help but look into his big, brown eyes. You try to communicate with a single look, a silent plea for him to please say he isn’t.
“I won’t shut you out,” he’s hardly louder than a whisper, but that’s enough for you.
You don’t know where to start: Did you punch him because of me? Did he say something first? Did you have an ulterior motive? Did you know about my date with him before that night? Did you guys talk about me?
The final one sparks a chill down your spine, uncomfortable at the thought of Eddie having discussed you with the bartender, having been the one to tarnish the man’s view of you enough to leave you stranded at a restaurant alone.
Normally, you’d slowly ease him to the point of your actual question. But your patience has vanished as you look at him now, as you watch him under the promise that he won’t shut you out.
“How did you know him before the fight?”
His lips twitch with a grin, “I was a regular, he was a bartender. Can I make it anymore obvious?”
“Are you quoting Avril Lavigne to me right now?” you ask, flabbergasted before shaking your head in an attempt to clear your thoughts and move past this joke, “You know what? Forget I asked – so he served you often? Were you…. Were you friendly?”
“Well, he once took me out behind the bar and kissed me, but he never got around to buying me dinner. Might have been because of my mean right hook, but who knows-”
“Eddie,” Your voice cracks in desperation, “Please, be serious. Just for one minute.”
It kills you to say it, because part of you is convinced this is a vision of the boy you’ve been chasing after for so long. This is the boy who is best friends with Nancy. This is the boy who is always invited without hesitation to smoke with Jonathan and Argyle. This is the boy that Steve and Robin had ranted and raved about in all those classes before you’d met him. This is the boy you’d met that first night in the bar in brief passing, and had been seeking out ever since.
A boy who felt like coming home after a long week.
It kills you to tell him to quiet down all the grins and jokes that are making your heart ache in such a terribly peculiar way.
“I’m sorry,” something in you gleams with gratuity when his grin takes it’s time fading, him throwing up his hands in faux defense, his playful tone still woven carefully. He’s not shutting you out. “I can be serious. I- Give me a second. Scout’s honor, I can stop fucking around.”
“You better,” you jilt, caving into the joking ever so slightly.
It’s easy to do when he looks at you this way. His eyes sparkle as if the honesty has freed him of some great weight. However he had expected you to react, it wasn’t this way.
All at once, he has become something brand new to you. You’re in his sweatshirt, barefoot on his balcony as you can still smell his last cigarette lingering in the air, and you wonder if you’ve never considered yourself a morning person because you’ve never experienced a Sunday morning with Eddie. If you had felt his morning light like this before, even in a sleep-deprived haze, you would have certainly enjoyed the early hours sooner.
“Okay, okay,” he takes a deep breath, forces away the grin you can still see in the crinkles beside his eyes, “To answer your question, no. We weren’t really friends, I didn’t even know his name and I’m pretty sure he didn’t know mine. He just knew my order.”
“Whiskey and coke,” you whisper, pulling a knee up to your chin, resting it and looking at Eddie with unbridled softness. Fifteen hours ago, you couldn’t have known nor cared about his go-to drink.
“Whiskey and coke,” he confirms. It’s in the pull of his lips – he’s fighting another smile, feeling just as soft as you are at the way you’ve learned something new about him, “Not that it’s hard to remember. Definitely easier than an amaretto sour.”
“Amaretto sours are not hard to remember,” you shake your head ever so slightly, chin slipping and lips dragging across the skin of your knee. Eddie’s eyes waste no time focusing on the movement, “Okay. So you two weren’t really friends, that’s good to know. I guess my next question would be, was he working that night?”
Eddie leans forward, elbows pressing into the tops of his thighs, “Are you asking if I’m badass enough to storm into a bar and throw a punch at the bartender on duty to defend your honor?”
His words paint quite the picture for you. “Did you?”
“No. Lower your expectations of me, please.”
It takes everything in you to not just throw your head back in laughter, having to settle on giggles suffocated against the skin of your knee still. You wrap your arms around your shin tightly, keeping your leg folded up into you as you shake with the soft laughter.
“Okay, one last question - who threw the first punch?” you sigh. The image of how fearful Eddie had looked when he’d first admitted to this entire ordeal is silly now. You already know the answer to this question, he wouldn’t have been so nervous to tell you if he hadn’t been the one instigating the entire thing, but you ask it to humor the two of you.
It’s a good distraction from the buds and blooms alike, all awakening along your vines. The vines don’t feel so constricting anymore. As a matter of fact, you think you’re able to recognize their beauty for the first time. Verdant greenery lined with splashes of reds, of violets, of yellows that are almost the same brilliant shade of gold that his eyes seemingly flash every time the sun hits them just right.
“I did,” he answers just as you expected. He also shrinks into himself, just as you had also expected, “I just saw him there, and- actually, I don’t know if this next part is just an insult to injury but I…” he trails off, not taking a single breath as he meets your gaze. You’re sure he’s searching for anger, for repulsiveness, for hurt. He’ll find none. You only nod your head and encourage him to keep going, “Okay, he was there on a fuckin’ date, sweetheart. A date, the night after he stood you up. So I just…I just decked him. And honestly? I don’t regret it. He deserved it.”
When he’s finally finished spilling his guts, you’re left fighting a grin and an overflowing chest of blooms. He’s flushed and nervous and goddamn it, he beat the shit out of some dude in your honor. You should scold him or be more upset, but you only start laughing again.
“Why are you laughing?” Eddie scrunches up his face, continuing to lean forward, almost as if trying to get closer to you, “Seriously, what’s so funny about that?”
You’ve thrown your head back in delight now, just as you had wanted to earlier, and release your hold on your leg as it falls back down from your chest, “Jesus Christ, I wish I could have seen that in person.”
Eddie’s stunned. But you mean it – if your heartbroken self from six months ago had witnessed that, you would have considered Eddie your best friend immediately. This entire feud would have been cut six months short just from one simple punch.
“I’m sorry,” you gasp out, desperately trying to compose yourself once more, “I really shouldn’t condone violence. I just – man, I cried over that guy. A whole month of those stupid, cheesy, ‘good-morning-beautiful’ texts, and he had just left me hanging, y’know? I mean, I’m sure he’s not a bad person-”
“No,” Eddie interrupts, smiling right along with you, “No, as far as we should be concerned, he’s a fucking asshole. Fuck defending him, we’re never going to see him again anyways.”
We’re never going to see him again.
Eddie probably has no idea what he’s done, referring to the two of you as a joint unit for the first time in a future tense, but it makes you ache all over. That heartache and warmth you felt for him is no longer secluded to just your chest; you feel it from your toes all the way to your scalp, traveling and leaving kisses of goosebumps in its trail. A sudden yearning floods your entire nervous system, the entire roadmap of your heart and your veins and your arteries – you like the image of you and Eddie, Eddie and you, still being a resemblance of a pair beyond just these measly twenty four hours. You like to imagine being able to call him up out of boredom some time next week. You like the thought of him joining on bar crawls with you and the girls. You like the thought of spending every Sunday morning with him from here on out.
Some of those are reasonable. Some of those aren’t. The yearning rushes through you all the same.
“Yeah,” you agree softly, “We’re never going to see him again. Fuck him.”
Eddie hums and leans back in his chair, finally beginning to relax, leaving you a moment to reflect.
He was telling the truth, he had been honest; he had gotten banned from a bar for you. He’d seen the bartender who stood you up, and he’d decided to defend your honor. Even after that night. Even after that fight. Even after the glass you had thrown.
Even after the cruel words he had said.
The yearning stops in its tracks, coming to a rough halt as you glance up at him sharply.
Even after the cruel words he had said, even after claiming you weren’t someone who was wanted, he’d defended you.
“You know what?” he suddenly says, but your mind is still whirling and you can only hum in response, “I kind of like honesty. I sort of dig it,” you wish you could muster up more than a smile as he boyishly grins at you, “What else do you wanna know? Hit me, sweetheart.”
Sweetheart. The yearning rushes past the floodgates, the pink strikes your cheeks, the ache rings out from the very hollows of your bones.
You know what you really want to ask him can’t be answered right now. Because even with the change in him, the one that weakens your knees and has you wishing for things in the future, he was still once the man from that night. He still once made you bleed, made you cry. And even if he’s apologized, and you know he means it, it can’t erase that fact.
And it worries you. Because as all the feelings swell in your chest, you’re left with yet another unanswered question.
Why would you defend me after that fight?
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#twenty four hours#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson fanfic#this chapter is my fucking mortal enemy#rewrote out the angst and postponed it simply because if a guy ghosted me and i found out my 'enemy' rocked his shit i'd cackle#anyways#i hope this is worth the struggle i put in
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Come to heaven
Title: Come to heaven
Written for @buckybarnesbingo (Round 6)
Card: B004
Square Filled: K5: handle with care
Ship/Main Pairing: Mobster!Bucky Barnes x Ex!Reader
Rating: Mature
Major Tags/Triggers/Warnings: angst, jealousy, ex! sugar babe trope, drunkness, fluff, hopeful ending
Summary: Making amends is hard.
A/N: Lyrics in Italics taken from Bruno Mars' "Locked Out of Heaven"
Word Count: 1,7k+
BBB BuckyBarnesBingo 2024 masterlist
Catch up here: Go to hell
Written in reader’s PoV
Bucky tries to slip his hand into your panties, but you wrap your hand around his wrist to stop him. This is how he always made you compliant and stopped any argument.
“No! Not this time.”
“No?” He sounds surprised. Of course, he’s surprised. You always gave in and let him seduce you. Pleasure and having his attention, even for a fleeting time, was better than thinking about the future, or your non-existent relationship.
“No!” You stiffen in his arms. “Let go of me. I won’t let you do this to me all over again. It’s always the same. You stop me from speaking my mind with your lips, hands, or cock. I’m done being a sexual object, a toy you can play with to you.”
“Doll, I…” Bucky reluctantly releases you from his embrace. He steps away to watch you turn around. “What do you mean?”
“This,” you press your hand to your heart, “was yours. I admitted my feelings and waited for you to at least tell me that I mean a little more to you than a set of holes you can fill. But…” you sniffle but put a brave face on, “you couldn’t even give me that.”
“So, you want to go back to that old man and his limp dick?” He scoffs in an attempt to hide the hurt.
“Even if I’m not in love with him, I know exactly what he wants from me. He won’t make promises of keeping me safe and happy only to turn his back on me the moment I tell him that I love him. With him, I know what I’ll get.”
You try to sidestep Bucky, but he blocks your path. “That’s it? You’ll leave me for that man without giving me the chance to make things up to you.”
“James,” you gently cup his face and look him in the eyes. “You can’t make things up to me with gifts or sex this time. I asked you if you can imagine having a relationship with me. You gave me your answer. It’s my turn to tell you that what you have to offer is not enough.”
“Not enough?” He’s confused. “But I…”
“Money and shiny things cannot replace what you are unwilling to give,” you give him a sad smile. “As much as I enjoyed our time together, it’s over. We both knew it’d end like this. This kind of arrangement is meant to end sooner or later. There is nothing we can do about it.”
You press your lips to his scruffy chin, ending what began as a passionate one-night stand with a soft kiss. “Goodbye, James. I hope, one day, you’ll find something worth being more than…” Your voice cracks and you drop your hands from his face.
“Y/N,” he tries to grab your hand but you step away the moment his fingertips brush your skin. If you give in to him now, you’re doomed to repeat history. “Wait, I can try to be better.”
You give him a weak smile. “No, you won’t, James. You never had to try, and that’s the problem. Your good looks and reputation made everything so much easier for you than for other men.”
He allows you to leave, watching you go to join your companion for the rest of the night. Bucky will sulk in a corner, drinking too much while wishing you’d stayed by his side instead of laughing about the things the old man by your side says.
Bucky is close to losing his patience. He’d hoped scaring the man you chose over him would be enough. Much to his chagrin, your companion from last night is rather amused about Bucky’s presence.
Erik Lehnsherr lived long enough to fear nothing. Not that he ever feared anything else than his own mortality. But at his age, even that fear faded a long time ago.
“I don’t understand why you are here, Mr. Barnes,” Erik leans back in his chair, an amused smirk on his lips. “Do we have business to do? I don’t think so. I’m old, not forgetful.”
“If you release Y/N out of her contract with you, I’ll pay you any sum,” Bucky tries to get you out of your sugar girl arrangement with the old creep.
“A contract?” He quirks a brow. “The lovely lady accompanying me last night came with me to make sure I’m not alone. We don’t have an arrangement. She’s just a lovely young woman spending time with me to help me with my paperwork.”
“Paperwork?” Bucky eyes his concurrent warily. He’s a master at reading people and finding lies behind a friendly smile. “She’s your employee?”
“A freelancer, the young people call it these days,” Erik holds back a chuckle.
When you offered to join him at the party, you told him everything that happened with James Buchanan Barnes. The man breaking your heart. Erik promised he’d do anything to make the fool let you go see that he made a grave mistake.
“I’m old, not someone creeping on young women,” he adds after a long pause. “I had my fair share of lovely ladies and gentlemen when I was younger.” Erik eyes Bucky up and down. “You’d be on top of my list if only I was thirty years younger.”
Bucky backpaddles. He eyes Erik warily before clearing his throat.
”What exactly is Y/N doing for you?”
“I already told you that she does my paperwork. I believed I was the old man here. Maybe you should get your memory checked, young man,” Erik chuckles. “If you’d excuse me now. I’m waiting for a massage therapist. A pretty boy getting this old man going…”
‘Old creep’, Bucky thinks to himself before leaving without saying goodbye. “At least he doesn’t creep on Y/N. That’s a pro.”
Bucky drove to his best friend to release some steam. He told Steve everything about you and the stunt you pulled to make him jealous.
“She tricked you,” Steve can’t help but laugh. “Man, you’ve got yourself a smart little cookie. I bet she tried to wrap you around her finger.”
“I fell for her lie so easily,” Bucky huffs. “I believed she’s riding that creep’s dick. Now I know, she put on a show to get my attention, not to rub it under my nose. My sweet doll is missing me.”
“Well, if she’s your sweet doll try to treat her better. She deserves someone to take good care of her.”
“Steve—”
“No, Buck. You need to handle her with care,” Steve won’t let his friend get away with a false excuse. “Y/N got hurt by you once, Buck. I don’t want you to make the same mistake twice.”
You walk a little faster to outrun Bucky. He’s following you around town, a bouquet of roses in his hands.
He tried to convince you to move in with him, promising the world to you.
“Go away,” you huff. “I don’t know what kind of game you are playing, but I won’t participate. Just leave me alone.”
“You know that you can’t run away from me in those shoes, right?” Bucky smirks when you stop in your tracks to look at the colorful thongs you’re wearing. “I never understood how you can walk in these…”
“I like to feel the sunshine and air on my feet,” you point out. “Not everyone wants to run around in polished leather shoes all the time.”
“Ouch,” he snickers. “Come on, baby doll. Let’s have lunch together. Give me the chance to show you that I can change.”
“Bucky,” you sigh. “You don’t get that I can’t go back to what we had.”
“Y/N,” he drops the roses to cup your face. “I don’t want to go back to what we had. Baby doll, let your Bucky treat you like a queen.”
“I don’t want you to treat me like a queen,” you wrap your hands around his wrists to pull his hands off of your face, “only like someone you respect and love. I want you to treat me like your girlfriend. But you can’t give me that.”
“Baby…”
You look on the ground. “Please pick the roses up and give them to someone who wants to become your next sugar babe. I’m out of this for good.”
Again, you walk away. You’re holding your head high and ignore the ache in your heart as you leave Bucky behind.
'Cause you make me feel like I've been locked out of heaven For too long, for too long Yeah, you make me feel like I've been locked out of heaven For too long, for too long, oh-oh, oh-oh-oh Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah (ooh) Oh, yeah, yeah Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah (ooh) You bring me to my knees, you make me testify (ooh) You can make a sinner change his ways (ooh) Open up your gates 'cause I can't wait to see the light (ooh) And right there is where I wanna stay (ooh)
“What the fuck!” You yell out of your window. Bucky parked his car in front of your apartment complex. He’s singing along to a song, begging you to take him back. “It’s 2 am Bucky! What is wrong with you?”
He turns the volume down and kills the engine before waving at you.
“Baby doll,” he slurs. “I came here to bring you home. ‘m missing you, doll…Please come home.”
“SHUT UP!” one of your neighbors yells out of their window. “Do you know how late it is?”
“It’s 2 am,” Bucky yells back. “Stop yelling so loud. You’ll wake the neighbors!”
“BUCKY! Stop being so loud!”
“Baby…can I come up and cuddle you?” He grins dopily when you slam the window shut. “She loves me!”
“SHUT UP!” Your neighbor yells.
“Shut up!” Bucky yells back. “OH…there you are…” He stumbles toward the door when you get out. “BABY DOLL!”
“Bucky,” you hiss and grab his hand. “Stop yelling and come with me.”
“You look pretty in your pajamas,” he purrs your name and wraps himself around you. Bucky nuzzles his face in your neck and sighs. “Without you, I’m in hell, doll. Forget about that old creep and go for Bucky.” He mutters against you.
You sigh deeply. “Fine, come with me to heaven. You can bunker on my couch. In the morning, we will talk about impulse control and not yelling in the middle of the night.”
Tags in reblog.
#bbb2024#buckybarnesbingo2024#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x y/n#mobster!bucky#mafia au
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Shared study- Jude Bellingham x reader
Summary: Jude demonstrates his unconditional support by helping the reader, a biochemistry student, prepare for an important exam, offering not only his time and patience, but also invaluable emotional support at home. A/N: English is not my first language, sorry if there are some grammar mistakes!
The day had been long for you, a biochemistry student, with endless hours in the lab and your mind saturated with formulas and experiments. In the late afternoon, you decided to go to Jude's house, looking for a respite and a change of atmosphere to continue your studies.
Upon arrival, you found Jude in the living room, his face lighting up as he saw you enter. "Hello, love," he greeted you warmly, rising to greet you with a kiss on the cheek. "How was your day?"
You sighed, setting your heavy bag on the floor. "Exhausting," you admitted truthfully, "but I have to study some more before tomorrow's exam."
Jude looked at you with concern as he led you over to the couch. "Can I help you with anything?" he offered gently, knowing how important this exam was to you.
You sat down next to him, grateful for his support. "Could you go over metabolic reactions with me? They're my weak point," you asked, opening your book and reaching for the notes you had taken.
Jude nodded with determination, sitting down next to you and looking at the book curiously. Even though football was his passion and his profession, he was determined to support you in any way he could. "Let's get to it," he replied with an encouraging smile.
They spent the next few hours immersed in study. Jude listened intently as you explained each concept and asked questions about biochemical processes. Although he didn't always understand all the technical details, his patience and willingness to help you were evident in him every gesture and expression.
"What happens if we increase the substrate concentration?" you asked, pointing to a diagram in your book.
Jude frowned slightly, thinking about the answer. "That would increase the rate of the reaction, right? Because more substrate means more effective collisions between the molecules," he replied, hoping he had got it right.
You smiled, impressed by his understanding. "Exactly," you confirmed, nodding approvingly. "You're learning fast!"
As the evening progressed, Jude encouraged you with words of encouragement and small comforting gestures. He would bring you water when you needed refreshment and prepare snacks to keep your energy up. Every break became an opportunity to share laughter and light conversation, easing the tension of studying with his loving presence.
Finally, as the clock struck midnight, you closed your book with a sigh of relief. "I think I'm ready for tomorrow," you announced with a beaming smile, feeling the weight of stress ease thanks to Jude's unconditional help and support.
Jude hugged you tenderly, feeling a deep satisfaction at seeing you so determined and confident. "I'm so proud of you," he murmured against your hair, leaving a soft kiss on your forehead.
"And I'm proud of you," you replied sincerely, your hands clinging to his shirt with gratitude and love.
At that moment, in the comforting silence of his home, you had found not only academic support, but also a reminder of how much it meant to have someone like Jude by your side, willing to do anything for your well-being and success.
#jude bellingham x reader#jude bellingham fanfic#jude bellingham#jude bellingham imagine#bellingham#football player x reader#football imagine
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Hey ! First at all I love your blog and I'm so glad I discovered it ☺️
I have a silly idea about Minthara, what will be her reaction if she said something that hurt her tav, cause I love her but I'm a crybaby 😭
Thank you ! And sorry if my English is bad
Your english is great dw! Oh how I love to write for our lord and saviour miss sexy drow lady
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
Minthara x reader | Crybaby
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
The argument had started out small—just a disagreement over tactics during the last skirmish. You had suggested a more cautious approach, one that would spare as many lives as possible, while Minthara, ever the warrior, had insisted on a more aggressive strategy.
But what started as a discussion quickly escalated. Minthara's patience wore thin, and her words became sharper, cutting deeper with each exchange. Her voice, usually controlled and commanding, rose in frustration as she dismissed your concerns.
“I truly didn’t think you could be so naive,” she finally spat, her tone dripping with disdain. “You don’t understand what it takes to win and at this rate, you never will.”
The words hit you like a physical blow. The implication that you were somehow weak, that you didn’t understand the cost of survival, cut to the core. You felt your throat tighten, a familiar sting in your eyes that you fought desperately to suppress. But the hurt was too much to contain, and before you knew it, you were storming out of the tent, not wanting Minthara to see how deeply her words had wounded you.
You made your way to the lakeside, your footsteps heavy with emotion. The cool evening air did little to soothe the turmoil inside you, and the soft lapping of the water against the shore seemed to mock the chaos in your heart. You wrapped your arms around yourself, staring out at the dark water, your tears finally spilling over.
You hadn’t been out there long before you heard footsteps approaching from behind. You didn’t need to turn around to know it was Minthara. Her presence was unmistakable, a mixture of strength and authority that seemed to fill the space around her. But right now, it was a presence you didn’t want to face.
“Leave me alone,” you muttered, your voice trembling as you tried to keep the tears from spilling out any further. “I don’t want to talk to you right now.”
Minthara didn’t respond immediately, but you could feel her hesitating, torn between giving you space and not wanting to leave things unresolved. You heard her take a step closer, and then another, until she was standing right behind you.
“Look at me,” she said softly, her voice stripped of the harshness it had held earlier. You shook your head, your back still turned to her.
“No,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “Just go away.”
But Minthara wasn’t one to back down, not when it mattered, not when it came to you.
“Please,” she insisted, her tone gentler than you had ever heard it. “I need you to look at me.”
There was a long pause, the tension in the air thick and suffocating. Finally, with a heavy sigh, you turned around slowly, your eyes still fixed on the ground. But Minthara wasn’t having that either. She reached out, her fingers gently tilting your chin up until your eyes met hers.
Your vision was blurred with tears, but you could see the regret in her gaze, a sorrow that mirrored your own pain. Minthara’s strong features, usually so composed, were softened with an emotion you didn’t often see—vulnerability.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice trembling slightly. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
The sincerity in her words broke through the last of your defenses, and a fresh wave of tears rolled down your cheeks. Minthara didn’t flinch; instead, she reached out, her thumb gently wiping away your tears. The touch was so tender, so unlike the warrior you knew, that it made your heart ache even more.
“I was angry,” she continued, her eyes never leaving yours. “I didn’t think before I spoke. I’m sorry for what I said—it was cruel and unfair.”
You took a shaky breath, the weight of her apology easing some of the hurt. But the pain was still there, raw and aching.
“You think I don’t understand?” you whispered, your voice breaking. “I know what it takes to survive. I know the cost.”
Minthara’s expression softened further, a look of deep regret and understanding crossing her features.
“I know you do,” she said quietly. “I was wrong to say otherwise.”
There was a silence between you, heavy with the unspoken words and the lingering pain. But in that silence, there was also a sense of healing, a recognition of the love that bound you together despite the harsh words.
“I don’t want to fight with you,” you murmured, your voice still trembling with emotion.
“I don’t either,” Minthara replied, her voice steady now, full of conviction. “I never want to hurt you like that again.”
She pulled you into a gentle embrace, her arms wrapping around you protectively. You leaned into her, resting your head against her shoulder as you let the last of your tears fall. Minthara held you close, her hand stroking your hair in soothing motions, her own heart aching at the sight of your pain.
“I love you,” she whispered, her voice filled with a tenderness that she rarely showed to anyone but you. “More than anything.”
You held onto her tightly, feeling the sincerity in her words, the warmth of her embrace melting away the last of your anger and hurt.
“I love you too,” you whispered back, your voice barely above a breath.
Minthara pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head, her arms still holding you close as the night slowly wrapped around you both
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
Awwww this was so sweet to write and I hope you guys enjoyed it! - Seluney xox
If you want to support me in other ways | Help keep this moonmaiden caffeinated x
#bg3#baldurs gate 3#bg3 tav#baldurs gate tav#baldurs gate iii#minthara baenre#minthara x reader#baldurs gate minthara#minthara bg3#minthara x tav#minthara#minthara baenre x tav#minthara baenre imagine#bg3 imagines#minthara fluff#minthara hurt/comfort#minthara x reader angst#minthara x reader fluff#minthara x reader hurt/comfort#bg3 hurt/comfort#hurt/comfort
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࿙֒͜࿚࿙֒͜࿚࿙֒͜࿚࿙֒͜࿚࿙֒͜࿚࿙֒͜࿚࿙֒͜࿚࿙ ⪩⪨ ࿚࿙֒͜࿚࿙֒͜࿚࿙֒͜࿚࿙֒͜ ࿚࿙֒͜࿚࿙֒͜࿚࿙֒͜࿚
Comfort
Pairing: Soft, Husband! Bi Han x Fem! Reader
SFW, fluff
A/n: Bi Han brainrot where he just yearns of his wife's comfort and warmth after a long day with the Lin Kuei. He'll just lay in her arms, snuggling up close to her and acting like a baby needing comfort and peace after a long day of being tough and strong 😞😞
I just love to think of him as a soft, loving man instead of cruel and harsh 😭 he's traditional, he likes to keep it peaceful when he's with his wife 😞
It was late that night when Bi Han finally came home. He took off his boots with a sigh, setting them to the side. The house was already dark and quiet as he made his way through, eyes drooping and tired when he finally made his way to your shared bedroom.
He slowly opened the door, careful not to wake you. When he stepped in, he felt a wave of relief wash over him. He was finally home, finally in the presence of his wife, finally in the comfort of his own little paradise where there was no war or bloodshed... Just peace, quiet, and the love of his life.
When he looked over at you, he couldn't help the smile that crept up his lips, just seeing you sleeping so peacefully made his heart flutter in his chest. You looked like a goddess in his eyes, the dim light from the window making your skin seem as if it was glowing, your much smaller figure comfortable and warm under the covers.
He set his mask on the nightstand, slowly lifting the covers up and sliding in next to you, his arms snaking under your body to wrap around your waist as he pulls himself closer to you. Your eyes start to flutter open, and the first thing you see is Bi Han making himself comfortable on your chest, his hair flowing over his shoulders and no longer kept in that bun. The next thing you notice is the familiar scent of your husband's cologne, filling your senses and providing a wave of comfort.
"My love..." Your voice is but a whisper as you slowly start to wake up, you can feel Bi Han nuzzling his face into your neck, his breath offering warmth against your skin. "I'm home... I'm sorry you had to go to bed alone, my love" he whispered, peppering soft kisses on your skin.
It made you sigh, the way his lips traveled over your soft skin, his hand placed firmly on your stomach and roaming over the fabric of your nightgown. You nod slightly, carding your fingers through his hair and you feel him sigh, a deep breath following soon after as he relaxed on your chest.
"It's ok... I was pretty busy around the house too, so I was already feeling a bit tired..." you chuckled, closing your eyes slowly and letting yourself relax underneath him, "was work tough today?" You whispered softly, leaning in slightly to kiss the crown of his head. He nods weakly, his grip on you tightening ever so slightly, "I missed you... Couldn't wait to come home" he mumbles his words, tilting his head up to stare at your beautiful face.
A comfortable silence follows soon after, the sound of your breaths mingling and the soft touches coming to a stop as sleep comes to take you. He tries to keep himself awake for longer, leaning up to kiss your lips, which you return happily.
"I love you... I love you more than life..." He whispered to you, looking into your sleepy eyes with so much affection. He holds your hand, squeezing around your fingers gently as he brings it to his lips, kissing the back of your hand lovingly, "thank you for your patience, for your love and understanding... You're everything to me" his gaze was soft, his eyes fixated on you all the while his heart thumped in his chest, the mere sight of you enough to make him weak.
Your free hand strokes his cheek gently, and you can feel him leaning into your palm, loving you warmth. "I love you so much too, my dear... Words can't describe how I yearn for you.. my heart beats only for you" you whisper back to him, and it makes you happy to see the little smile creeping up his lips.
He takes in your scent, nosing at your neck as he finally closes his eyes, wrapping his body around you comfortably. Today was a tiring day for both of you, and as exhaustion creeps in your bones and mind, the comforting warmth of his arms and the sounds of his steady breathing lulls you to sleep, your heart feeling full and happy right beside your husband.
#bi han mk#bi han sub zero#bi han x you#sub zero x reader#mk1 bi han#mortal kombat bi han#soft bi han#fluff#comfort#mk1 fanfic#mk1 sub zero
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Keep Calm- Gojo Satoru x Reader| Angst (pt.1)
warnings: arguing, asshole gojo, reader is patient af, tw- insecurities, panic attacks, mention of throwing up, pregnancy, reading working overtime, corporate slave reader| POLL BELOW PLEASE VOTE
"Toru, you never had a problem with it before, why are you bringing it up and fussing about it now? I don't understand." Satoru knew you weren't someone who liked travelling, you usually were always the type to admire the view from the hotel room, maybe explore the area in a day and rest some more. Your job made it hard for you to relax, so any free time you get, even in a vacation, you'd rather sleep. He liked to explore. He loved clicking pictures.
You were together for so long, you figured he wouldn't have a problem with it. But here you were, just returning from a trip. Gojo suddenly snapped at you while driving. Along the lines of how you don't appreciate what he does for you and how you barely spent any time with him in the trip.
"Babe, I did explore the area and we went out too. You know how tired I was.. I'm sorry I just wanted to sleep. I'm really grateful you took me with you, and I really appreciate whatever you do for me. Please understand, there are some things we both like different. I'm sorry I don't like to explore during vacations."
"Thats the fuckin' point of a vacation ___! It feels like you just wasted my money. I woke you up so many times. Just because you went once doesn't make it any better. You're so, you're so fucking lazy! Its always the damn job and if not it then sleep. I wanted ONE vacation without your stupid laptop but no, how difficult is it to ask that?!" He snapped. You bit the inside of your cheek, not wanting to fight yet. You were too fucking tired for this. You're clearly admitting this is a wrong habit of yours and he's just riling you up not wanting to clear it out. You tried to understand his point of view. You were slowly getting a little thin on patience.
"Baby, again, I'd been working overtime for months, I really want that promotion. I..love this job, I don't like the staff or the boss, but I like what I do. And if that bothers you, talk to me. You had the whole week to do so. You kept it all in and now you're snapping at me. Be nicer, I admit where I'm at fault but baby, you're being a bit harsh. I really wanted to get some sleep while I had the chance.." you said calmly, he rolled his eyes at you. He parked the car, you had reached your house.
"Whatever Y/n." He got out of the car and slammed the door. He mumbled something on his way out, he didn't intend for you to hear. Instantly regretting the words that left his mouth. He hoped you hadn't heard him.
He turned to look at you, the way your head was dropped low and how you were shaking with anger or sadness, he wasn't sure, and how your fists were balled up pinching at your thighs to keep yourself calm, not getting out of the car- said otherwise.
"(ex name) would never do this, she loved to travel with me."
In your two years of relationship, he was always the snappy one, while you, never allowed yourself a moment of weakness. Always kept your calm, always patient and kept your voice low, even in anger and annoyance. That's what makes this so scary to him. He's seeing you try to keep yourself calm after what he said, he doesn't know whether to applaud you out of respect or run out of fear. You always smiled at him, your voice soft when he got mad at you. At most he's seen you annoyed, all pouty and frowning, it was cute. Right now, this wasn't. If his students were here they'd laugh at how The Strongest is cowering at the sight of his Significant Other.
'Keep calm, keep calm, keep calm. Breathe in, breathe out. He doesn't mean it. He's trying to get you to get a reaction.' You kept telling yourself. Your head was pounding.
You took a deep breath. And without sparing him a glance, got out of the car, head still low, fists still clenched. You quietly shut the door. Keeping your calm.
Satoru swore he would shit his pants if you stayed silent for another second. He wanted you to cry, scream, yell, even hit him but you said nothing. The air around you both was thick with tension. Suffocating him.
You walked ahead of him, to your apartment and he ran to catch up with you, wanting to apologise,
"___, I-I'm really sorry. I didn't me-" Slam. You slammed the door to his face and locked it.
-
It had been five minutes. Satoru could easily type in the code and get inside or even break open the door if it came to that, he decided to wait for you to cool down before he came in and properly apologise, wanting to give you your space.
The door opened, and he was met with your blank expression, your eyes distant and cold.
"___, I'm so-" You cut him off by shoving a huge bag in his arms. He looked at you in confusion.
"Baby, what's this..?"
"You want (ex name), go be with her. You want to act like a fuckin child? Say whatever you want and get away with it? Fuck off, you don't get to pull this shit with me." You handed him another suitcase.
"Tell Nanami to collect your things from here tomorrow. I'll pay my share of the trip back to you, asshole. Don't ever see me again." With that, the door was slammed to his face again.
-
You exhaled shakily, trying to calm the hammering in your chest. Your stomach hurt. Fuck you were having a panic attack. All the fear, insecurities and trauma from past relationships coming back to you. He knew that, he knew everything and still used it against you. And God, how much you hated him right now. But how much your heart longed to call him to hold you and comfort you through what you were feeling right now.
Everything felt too suffocating. You mustered all your strength and walked to the washroom, feeling suddenly weak and nauseated.
As you were brushing your teeth, your eyes wandered to a pink rectangle on the sink. your stomach dropped. Suddenly remembering something you forgot to check before the trip.
Pregnancy test
You remembered you took one a week ago, and your boss had called you into work just before you were supposed to fly out. Fuck you completely forgot to check it.
Two lines...great, the universe is against you.
This was not the right way to find out about this...
Fuck.
-
(there will be a pt2 babies)
vote on how you want the ending
Love you guys.
first JJK post, and its an angst oop
update: PT 2 OUT NOW (ANGST VERSION)
PT2 OUT NOW- (FLUFF VERSION)
#gojo satoru#jjk fluff#jjk angst#gojo angst#gojo fluff#jujutsu gojo#jujutsu fluff#writers on tumblr#layuhsblog#layuhasks#jujutsu angst
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Can we get a fic with John Hancock with a shy, innocent virgin f!reader? I feel like he would just go feral with corruption/breeding kink and possessive/jealousy?! Like just wanting to ruin her for anyone else and mark her from other ghouls. Bonus for fluff as well. I love the idea of him falling for her softness and trying so hard to be a gentleman out of respect, thinking she deserves better while internally he’s thinking the nastiest filthiest shit.
(Also maybe you could do a Howard version sometime? I know you get a ton of requests so if not it’s fine, but I'm curious how he would be too) Either way, thank you ❤️ your blogs amazing and I appreciate it!
Carnal Lessons
Pairing: John Hancock x Virgin!Female Reader
Word Count: 19,965 (yes, for real)
Warnings: very sexual pining, loss of virginity, corruption kink, reader's first "real" orgasm, absolutely perverted thoughts, mutual and consensual drug use, shotgunning, discussion of addiction, canon-typical violence and bigotry, descriptions of wounds, mild exhibitionism, finger fucking, mutual masturbation, oral sex (male and female receiving), cock piercings, possessive sex, manhandling, hair pulling, breeding kink, slightly dishonest creampie, jealousy, self-hating John.
Notes: It's finally here! This thing absolutely refused to free me from its clutches, so I'm incredibly happy to have it all finished up. Thanks for the submission, Anon, and thanks for your patience while I worked through the forty-ish page fit it induced in me. I tried SO hard to keep this to a reasonable length (as I said, there's almost never a time when I'm not shooting to keep to around 5,000-7,000 words), I swear, but this idea really needed some room to develop. Please enjoy the first long-form piece on the blog that doesn't feature Cooper Howard in the lead role! As for the idea of doing a version of something like this with him in the future, someone else sent in a very similar ask that's been earmarked for just that.
Reader is a former vault dweller but is explicitly not Nora/the Sole Survivor. Post-Institute destruction.
John McDonough had always been more accepting of vault dwellers than most folks. A certain curiosity towards those who came from such different circumstances than him in youth had slowly grown over the years into some form of sympathy, even pity. There were those who looked down on the people who spent their lives hiding away in those armored chambers, saw them as craven and weak, but John found himself sympathetic to anyone who valued safety and stability for themselves and those they truly cared about. A hard-lived life of barely scraping by and sleeping in the gutter for years had granted him a thankfully varied perspective of the world around him.
When you'd first stumbled your way into his life, he had been very understanding of your plight; after all, you weren't the first poor schmuck that had left their vault, their safe little settlement, only to discover just how truly dangerous the streets and crumbling high-rises of Boston could be. You'd arrived in rough shape, though not the roughest he'd seen by far. Hell, you'd even managed to limp your way into Goodneighbor's front gates before collapsing, a bit of fortitude that had almost certainly saved your life.
Naturally, as the mayor, word of the collapsed, bloodied vault dweller laid out on the ground outside Kleo's had filtered up to him rather quickly, and his innate curiosity had gotten the best of him. Fahrenheit had tucked the information in between a few other pieces of news, seemingly hoping to keep it from garnering too much interest from her friend and boss.
"I think I'm gonna go check it out." he replied, rising from the rickety couch where he'd been perched, taking in his second-in-command's daily brief.
"I know you, Hancock. Maybe you shouldn't." she said, eyeballing him.
"I have no absolutely idea what you mean by that." he retorted haughtily before disappearing down the stairs and out the door. He made his way across Scollay Square, nodding to and greeting a few folks who spoke to him, cutting a wiggling path to the Rex where he'd been told they'd set you up in a room to rest after patching you up as best as they could. Seeking out the room number he'd been given at the desk, he was surprised when he poked his head around the corner to find Daisy still hovering over you a bit.
"Heard we might have a new friend. How're they doing?" he asked, leaning against the door frame with his hands in his pockets. The merchant turned, smiling politely at him and straightening her jacket.
"Hey, Hancock. She's doing much better now, fortunately. Poor thing will probably sleep for quite a while, though. I'm shocked she made it through." she said, taking a half-step back to reveal your unconscious form on the bed. "Tough for a vaultie. Though, I suppose I said the same about Nora."
He hadn't fully heard a single thing she'd said after she'd stepped away, completely distracted by the realization of what Fahr had actually meant. When she'd had told him she thought it was best he didn't come down, he'd assumed it was a joking remark about how he'd disappeared for months the last time a vaultie had popped into their lives, but now he truly understood what she'd been getting at when she'd remarked about how she "knew him".
You were breathtakingly gorgeous, even battered, limp, and filthy like you were. Soft in all the right ways, from your statuesque face to what parts of your body he could see unobscured by the old sheets. Your vault suit was unzipped and yanked down to the waist to expose the dirty tank beneath, the swell of your breasts rising and falling gently as you slept. Your skin and hair were so perfect looking under the sweat and grime that he felt himself overwhelmingly drawn to caress you somehow, his palms itchy. He'd been around the block a time or two, and he'd met plenty of gorgeous men and women, but something about you was immediately captivating, almost haunting.
After a moment, he came back to himself, making abashed eye contact with Daisy once more to find that she was studying him closely. Of course, the older woman knew him well enough to figure he didn't have ill intent towards you, necessarily, but she recognized that glint in his eye as he gazed at you, and it made her hesitant to leave the room before he did, her instincts too strong to be ignored. Hancock, for all his vices and shortcomings, was quite adept at reading a room and quickly picked up on her thoughts.
"Well, I'll let her rest. If you see her up and around later, send her my way so we can chat, yeah? I'm sure she's got interesting stories." he said, trying his best to sound lax and casual. The other ghoul nodded silently, already turning her attention back to you as he turned to leave. Rounding the corner right out of the Rex, he ducked into a narrow alley and lit a smoke, leaning against the wall and closing his eyes with a sigh, trying his best to turn his mind to other topics. It had taken longer than he'd care to admit, but he finally succeeded and returned to the day's business.
When you'd eventually awoken, he'd been very pleasantly surprised to find you chatty and rather accepting of your surroundings for someone who had lived underground their whole life. You were kind, agreeable, though shaken by your ordeal, obviously; he guessed that you'd likely seen plenty of other wild shit on your way in, and that a semi-regular (if a little unsavory) community of folks who mostly just happened to be ghouls wouldn't be that high on the list of things that would trip you up badly. Incredibly thankful for the assistance you'd been given when you'd first showed up, you quickly proved him correct, eager to work, to help out, to find a place where you could fit in.
Early on, you did a lot of running around for Daisy and Kleo, searching for things that had been requested from them, but you'd quickly grown tired of prospecting and shifted to more community-based work, something that only endeared you to him more. You mentioned casually at one point that you'd been something called an "irrigation technician" back home, so it was no surprise that he often found you knee-deep in dirt, picking at weeds, evaluating soil and water quality like it was second nature to you.
Everyone around the neighborhood loved you, almost too much for his liking. More and more, he found himself asking you to do completely made up tasks, or things that were already an assigned job, just to make sure you weren't spending too much time getting close to someone else when he was too busy to hang out with you. It left a bad taste in his mouth to think that he might miss out on the chance to get close to you because of nothing but circumstance when it had been circumstance that brought you into his life to begin with.
Eventually, he'd gotten a bit of that familiar wandering itch, deciding to pack up and make the trip to visit Nora in Sanctuary. He'd invited you to come along with him, both interested to see what his two favorite vaulties would think of one another and hoping for an opportunity to get more personal with you. Besides, he wasn't naive. He couldn't leave you behind and expect you to still be available when he came back, that he knew; Edward Deegan had been in town far more often since the Cabots had left, asking around for you more than once, and he knew that the older man had a certain reputation...not that he had room to judge.
He also knew that he wasn't the only one to worry about.
Thankfully, you'd agreed to come along, openly eager to see more of the countryside and secretly eager to spend more time with John himself. His plan to get closer to you ultimately worked, and far better than he'd expected, but not for the reasons he'd anticipated.
The trip from Goodneighbor to Sanctuary wasn't terribly long, a day or two at most depending on your urgency. In fact, travel times all over had seemingly reduced as the roads had grown slowly safer, busier with the increased presence of the Minutemen and those who felt aligned with them. He had even noticed several trading caravans, though heavily guarded ones, making their way south, something he hadn't seen in years.
Unfortunately, he'd gotten a little lax, perhaps a bit distracted towards the very end of the trip and the two of you had been ambushed just as you'd entered the outskirts of Concord. He hadn't anticipated raiders so close to Sanctuary; in his overconfidence, a small pack of them had managed to get the drop on the pair of you, nailing him with a single round to his shooting arm from some distance before quickly hemming you in from uphill. Fortunately, he was both quick-healing and more than familiar with fighting in pain; his resilience, combined with your own strength and ability to pick several off yourself at a distance, quickly thinned their numbers, leaving each of you dealing with one or two stragglers.
Hancock had been retrieving his knife from the windpipe of the final one standing against him when he saw you fall out of the corner of his eye, your weapon tumbling a few feet away across the split, buckled asphalt. He immediately threw himself towards you, sizing up the burly raider who loomed over you as you attempted to roll out of his reach. The hulking motherfucker pivoted on one foot towards you, crushing the arm that was reaching out for your fumbled pistol under his filthy boot and snapping the bone with a sickening, audible crack. The agonizing cry that left you was sharp and heartbreaking.
Somehow, he'd teleported the ten feet or so that he needed to close the gap between him and the man raising his laser rifle towards you. He couldn't consciously recall a time when he'd moved with such urgency. The blow he delivered to the back of the guy's head with the butt of his shotgun caved in his skull cleanly and dropped him near instantly like a sack of rocks, but John still unloaded two shells into what was left for the satisfaction, his entire body vibrating with adrenaline and worry as he turned to you.
You were either attempting to sit up or curling upwards in pain, neither of which seemed especially comfortable as your mouth laid open in a silent scream. He acted as quickly as possible, gently moving your guarding arm away from the injured one to examine it. Thankfully, the bone hadn't pierced the skin, but the angle your hand sat at made his stomach roll, along with the way you began to whimper and hyperventilate. Wanting to move you out of the open before he administered one of the doctor's bags he kept with him, but distrustful of the surrounding houses, he scooped you up into his arms, wincing along with you as you cradled your limp limb against your chest. Holding his breath almost all the way, he trudged up the hill until he came across the Red Rocket truck stop, settling you gently on the old work bench.
"I'm real sorry, but this is probably gonna hurt, kid." he said, allowing himself the far-too-intimate gesture of pushing your hair away from your face, cradling your wet cheek for a split second. "When we get to Sanctuary, we'll get you something for the pain, alright?"
You nodded, eyes clenching tight as you extended the injured extremity towards him as best as you could. He was as gentle as possible patching you, uncomfortable with the idea of leaving you suffering completely, even for just the short walk across the bridge and up the hill. Eerily quiet despite what he was certain was fairly great pain, you let him do whatever he needed.
It had taken longer than he'd have liked to carry you to the short rest of the way to Sanctuary, his pace encumbered by his fear of jostling or mishandling you.
"It's fine. I can walk the rest of the way." you'd protested halfheartedly, your unmarred arm wrapped tight around his neck as you held yourself up as best as you could. However, you made no move to extract yourself from him. He'd pointedly ignored the handful of inquisitive looks the two of you had received as he'd carried you past the guard posts at the end of the bridge, quickly seeking out the settlement's little clinic building.
Nora, mayor in her own way, had almost immediately heard of your arrival, and found him smoking on the crumbling curb outside, staring off at the old gas station on the horizon absentmindedly.
"Is your lady friend alright?" she asked, lowering herself down beside him and holding out a semi-cool beer.
He smiled at her, almost full-strength, and reached out to warmly shake her hand. His friend looked a little older now, her time in the Commonwealth and her mountain of accrued responsibilities taking their own toll, but she appeared wiser (and more content) for it.
"She'll be fine. If I'm honest, I probably didn't need to rush her up here like that, but, eh. I panicked a little." he replied, cheeks warm as she appraised him with that knowing look. She didn't dig further, thankfully one of his few friends who had ever mastered the art of discretion. John was glad to see her, certainly, and tried his best to focus on their conversation as they caught up a bit, each sipping their drink, but his mind was inside with you.
Soon, she was pulled away, but promised to check in again before disappearing down the street, leaving John as he had been: worrying away on the stoop.
After the doctor had checked you over, fully re-set your arm, and given you another stimpack, along with a sling, the ghoul had helped you to a cot in an empty room at the back of one of the semi-restored houses. He'd offered you Med-X, eager to alleviate the pain he could see lingering, but you'd just shaken your head wordlessly, a nervous glint in your eyes as you sized the syringe up, your breathing still rather shallow and shaky as you sweated lightly.
"You're worrying me here, sister. I'm begging ya to just take something. I know you're healing up, but..."
"I'm fine, John. Really. I just need to rest a few more hours and it'll be healed enough to not hurt so badly." you huffed, resettling your limbs along the bed to allow him some room to sit beside you. You calling him by his real name, the one no one ever called him, didn't even really register.
"I've got some booze." he offered, embarrassed at how desperate he felt to get you to somehow accept what little help he felt he had to offer. "Or weed? Would you try that? I know you're hurting."
There was a different sort of hesitation in your gaze at that, your arm still cradled close in your sling as you stroked over it absentmindedly, protectively with your good hand.
"I really do just need to tough it out a bit longer." you replied, though your tone was a little softer. "Plus, I don't like to drink, and I don't exactly know how to smoke weed."
He chuckled at that, relaxing just a little.
"Not much to know. Inhale, hold, exhale." he said, smiling warmly at you. "I've got a joint if you wanna try it."
You were quiet for a long moment, taking a deep, steadying breath in the cooling twilight.
"Are you gonna light it?" you asked.
And he did, taking a puff or two himself to get the thing burning properly before handing it to you, showing you how to pinch it between your thumb and forefinger and watching with rapt attention as you lifted it to your own mouth.
"Easy!" he said as you pulled hard, the end of the joint glowing bright as it burned. Unsurprisingly, you began to cough wildly a moment later, cheeks wet and shoulders shaking hard as you hacked and gasped, desperately pushing the smoldering little cigarette back at him so you could wipe at your face. Resisting the urge to chuckle at the relatability in your tear-streaked mug, he patted your shoulder gently. Taking another puff himself, he leaned against the wall behind him, giving you a few minutes to collect yourself and find your voice once more.
"Wow." you said eventually,
"Feeling it?" he asked.
"Definitely. Also, that really hurt."
He tittered a bit at your glassy-eyed look, genuine relief washing over him as he took in your relaxing posture and slow, even breaths. Knowing that you wouldn't fess up to still hurting, he didn't ask your status, taking comfort in the knowledge that you were at least somewhat relieved of your pain as he fully settled in beside you, sitting up with his back against the moldering wallpaper.
"If only my friends back home could see me now." you chuckled, playing absentmindedly with your fingers. His stomach dropped a bit at that, always frozen in captivation and fear of stopping you somehow when you got to talking about home in any substantial way, which was so rare.
"Can I ask why you left? Of course, you don't have to tell me anything you don't want to." he asked, each word an uneasy labor to force out as he fiddled with one of his rings.
You were quiet for a moment, just long enough that his retraction was ready to launch off of his tongue when you finally responded.
"They wanted me to get married and I wasn't ready." you explained simply, following up after a moment with a very hesitant "Well, it wasn't just that. They wanted me to get married and start immediately popping out babies and stuff. Had a guy picked out for me and everything. I just couldn't go through with it. It didn't feel right. You know?"
John faltered for a moment, genuinely unsure if he did know what you meant. Sure, he was familiar with the feeling of being expected to fall into a certain role and failing, or rejecting the system that wanted to put you into that box completely. He knew what it was like to feel at odds with those who felt they knew what was best for you. But, through all of that, he'd been able to make his own choices, even if he sometimes wished he could go back and make different ones.
"I know what it's like to feel like you need to just get away, for sure." he replied after a hopefully-not-too-long pause.
You nodded slowly.
"So, uh...did you leave, or did you run away?"
There was a long moment of silence, and you didn't look at him when you answered, your voice just a little bit quieter.
"Closer to the second thing."
He nodded, hesitantly placing his hand on your knee in a gesture of comfort, smiling when you placed your own hand over his.
"Was he ugly?" he joked after a moment, earning a gentle laugh from you.
"Nah. It wasn't him. It was all of them, you know? And me, I guess." you replied, eyeballing the stars through a hole in the roof.
"Yeah, I hear you."
He held the joint out to you once more, but you declined, directing the thing away with a smooth turn of your hand.
"You sure you don't want some more? One hit isn't very much, even if it feels strong right now. Probably won't last long."
"I don't wanna hog all your fancy drugs." you responded facetiously, grinning just a little. "Plus, I think I'll literally hack up my own windpipe if I take another drag off of that thing. It's so..."
"...hot-feeling? I could shotgun it to you." he offered, trying to ignore the way his cock stirred at the confused look on your innocent little face. "It means you inhale my exhale. Makes it way less harsh. Only if you wanna, though."
"And it still works? The, uh, smoke, I mean?"
"Yep." he smirked.
"Hmm. Yeah, let's try it." you agreed, much calmer than before as you sat up a little taller and scooted close to him, your hips touching as he filled his lungs with smoke once more.
"Alright," he explained, words strained as he held his breath, "put your lips to mine and take a deep breath in."
You leaned in closer to do as you were told, you cheeks dusted with a tinge of blush as he closed the short distance between the two of you. Softly, he touched his mouth to your own, holding his lips open as he slowly, steadily exhaled. Hesitating for a moment, you eventually caught on, and surprisingly managed to take a rather generous inhale.
What surprised him more, though, was when he moved to pull away and you leaned in again, only to kiss him in full, your lips wrapping around what remained of his own instead of just sitting there. It began as a lingering peck, but after you pulled back a few inches to exhale, coughing much less this time around, he leaned in again, hand moving to cup the back of your head as he held you tight. You'd slept close to one another before, but that was the first night you'd chosen to sleep in the same bed, cuddled close and both content.
From that moment, things began to genuinely progress between the two of you, your relationship quickly blooming from a warm friendship with occasional flirtatious banter into something that was becoming quite serious, at least in terms of the relationships John had had in the past.
You were a flirt, but not in the forward, raunchy way he himself often was. No, you were a much sweeter, more playful sort of tease, and while he quickly found your affection high up on the long list of things he had a major fixation for, it also hampered him in its own way. It made him feel like such a creep to make more forward advances towards you when your own 'moves' tended to be more romantic in nature; hand-holding, soft kisses, chaste cuddles. Granted, he tried to keep in mind that your lack of experience may have made you less inclined to start or say things, less confident to put yourself out there; you often came across as eager, but nervous. He kept that observation to himself.
You were also a rather remarkable person, driven by how much you wanted to help people and make the world you'd found a better place. He found it almost funny how you tried your best to make it clear that you weren't one of those vault dwellers, though you sort of inherently were. As much as you liked to deny it, to insist that all of the "we must rebuild and lead America when we retake the surface" talk they'd drilled into your head where you'd grown up hadn't taken root, he saw some of it in you, in the way you were so eager to help run things, start up new settlements, provide assistance with improvements that would make life better for everyone.
Perhaps you'd decided to embody those values in a different way than you were taught, but it certainly came across as leadership behavior to him. Nora must've seen it, too, the two of you becoming quickly and warmly acquainted, you eager to help her out in any way you could and her with plenty of tasks that could use more hands. One of those tasks, funnily enough, was deciding what to do with the still-untouched Red Rocket. Too small to really be a proper settlement, it was decided that it would be emptied out and sized up for stability and how easy it would be to wire the place. He also insisted on a new guard tower at that end of the bridge to keep an eye on any Concord stragglers. Though, not too close to the building.
The two of you spent the next week or so cleaning the place out together, hauling away rotted junk and evaluating the old building's guts and foundation, which were pleasantly intact overall, much to his surprise. Nora stopped by when she could patch together any significant time alone from the few minutes here and there that she often had between tasks, offering assistance and extra supplies to stock the place up with. Knowing her, she'd long seen right through him and his feelings towards you; his suspicions were all but confirmed when she remarked that it was "quite the little home the two of you were building together".
Occasionally, she would bring Shaun along with her, introducing him to you after a couple of months of feeling you out. For the sake of his cherished friend, John treated the boy as normally as possible, even playing with him a bit when he requested it. But, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't force himself to let go of his lingering wariness of the whole thing. Yes, he was happy that Nora had her son back in whatever form it may be; he had seen firsthand how devastated she had been without him.
After all, that was precisely why he found himself so suspicious when she'd told him about the young synth boy. John had never been a parent, himself, but he knew Nora's heart, knew how deeply her love for her child lived inside her; it was exactly the sort of loss that could be easily exploited. She insisted that the Institute wasn't something they needed to worry about any longer, but he sometimes questioned her confidence in this. The facility itself may have been gone, but there was no way of knowing that all of their plans and orchestrations had been annihilated alongside it. Hell, if they'd been worth their supposed salt, they'd have been smart enough to guarantee that exactly that wasn't possible, that they would still be able to continue their work somehow. Shaun had showed up at too perfect a time, in his mind, and for that, he constantly kept one eye on the child who seemed to genuinely like him, calling him "Uncle John".
It was rather clear to him that you noticed the wall he kept up between himself and the kid, but you didn't prod much into it, and for that he was grateful.
The weeks continued to pass by, the Red Rocket becoming your sort of base; close enough to Sanctuary to be useful, far enough away to have some privacy for yourselves.
"We should really get you some actual armor and people clothes, y'know." he said one evening, reclining back onto the little bedroll he'd been using while you two searched for a proper bed and staring hard at your ass as you rummaged through your things. "That suit might protect you alright, but it's like wearing a target on your back."
And it's way too distracting to me, frankly, he finished silently, perfectly envisioning himself accidentally wandering off a cliff to his demise because he was too fixated on your various assets waggling around in that damn suit.
Fortunately for him, you actually agreed, long past growing tired of the perception of naivete and vulnerability that the suit drew to you. Though, he knew you were rather attached to the thing, one of the few slivers of home you carried with you always. You feared it being stolen if you left it behind somewhere, and he understood, helping you rig up a really good hiding spot in the Red Rocket ceiling tiles. The clothes you eventually started to wear around were, thankfully, less well-fitted than the vault suit, scrounged up pairs of jeans and threadbare tees, old button-ups and road leathers you tried your best to keep oiled and stretched.
However, when you felt truly comfortable (and weren't helping with some of the more intense work around the settlements), you'd often wear one of a couple of dresses you'd managed to trade for or scrounge up in your adventures, button-up things that hung well past your knee, but took the "form fitting" issue the vault suit had and multiplied it. Not only did the things emphasize every one of your sweet curves just the right way, they exposed the soft, strong flesh of your arms and legs, the line of your elegant throat as it disappeared into the swell of your breasts. As much as he loved to see you dressed so nicely, almost otherworldly beautiful in just how much you didn't fit into the dingy, decrepit background, it made it difficult for him to focus on any one task. Frankly, it made it difficult to focus on anything but the thought of hiking the flowing skirt up around your hips and having his way with you.
Simultaneously, it made him hypervigilant of exactly how others carried themselves when they were around you.
It had been irritating enough back home to have to deal with the Neighborhood Watch guys tugging you aside to whisper little bits of info to you, Ham's gaze lingering on you as you two passed into the entrance of The Third Rail, the number of people who had always wanted to talk or dance with you when you got inside. Caravan guards and traders trying their hardest to tail the pair of you on the road, pursuing your attention hard.
But once the two of you had begun spending a great deal of time around Sanctuary, the problem only intensified, increasing directly with the number of smoothskin men around who obviously did not see him as any sort of threat. Though he couldn't quite determine if the way they wrote him off was intended to be more emasculating or generally dehumanizing, John remained on his best behavior, both for your sake and Nora's, unwilling to embarrass either of you by association. Regardless, he was infinitely relieved when the former lawyer began to ask the two of you to start running errands to other nearby settlements. Sure, his patience was often tested again as soon as you reached whatever your new destination was, but the alone time in-between stops was incredibly regenerating for him, eager to get his hands on you whenever he could.
This was particularly true at night.
Often the settlements you were visiting weren't all that far away, but the two of you would usually choose to bed down for the evening somewhere on the roadside before turning up, both of you giddy at the unfettered access to one another, the privacy to discuss and say whatever you wanted. More than anything, though, he was desperate to feel you, to kiss you, to have you cuddled up against his chest the way he liked, and he was too nervous to paint you with the scarlet letter of ghoul alliance to be all that handsy during the day. When the sun fell, though, you were all his.
At no point did you explicitly tell him that you were a virgin. You didn't really need to, frankly; the way your lips and hands fumbled nervously against him, your lack of confidence to lead in this single situation, communicated all he needed to know. He wasn't especially surprised, anyway. The place you came from sounded pretty buttoned-up the way you described it, but you were also just a fairly guarded person in general; warm, friendly, but not overly eager to let anyone too close without a thorough sizing up. Fortunately for him, he somehow fit the specs.
It didn't take long for the two of you to start properly fooling around, much to John's partial chagrin. He hated to feel like he was rushing you, but at the same time, his self control completely evaporated into thin air the moment you stripped down to your skivvies to relax. He'd been hooked on you from that first kiss and the withdrawals were some of the heaviest he'd felt.
The first time he watched you come apart on his fingers, it took every ounce of strength in his irradiated body to not pin you down and fuck you until you literally couldn't handle any more. It was the most erotic display he'd ever taken in, the way your exposed chest flushed and heaved, your big, wide eyes brimmed with overwhelmed tears. As you'd crested into your peak, his hand buried in your panties while the other supported your limp head, you'd cried out so loudly he'd had to cover your mouth, soaking his fingers as your body twitched and jerked tensely.
"Holy cow." you'd gasped a moment later, a light sheen of sweat delicately clinging to your face and chest. "I wasn't aware I was doing that wrong."
"Well, I dunno about wrong..."
"Wrong, not as good as you, whatever." you dismissed, waving your hand at him playfully. "I hope you know that that's gonna be your job from now on."
"Is that right?" he grinned lasciviously, leaning down to kiss you on the cap of your bent knee and forcing himself to not firmly plant his rapidly growing head between your thighs. "Since when do you delegate tasks?"
"Oh, don't be that way, McDonough. We're all taking on extra responsibilities for the good of everyone." you replied diplomatically, your cheeks rosy as you rearranged your limbs to lie along his body.
He laughed genuinely at that, wrapping an arm around you and moving to recline himself. The small tent the two of you had set up was filled with your sweet musk, and he strategically angled his hips away from you so you wouldn't feel how completely stiff he was as a result, petting your hair as you drifted off to sleep. John was no stranger to knocking out for long periods himself, usually to will away a nasty come-down or hangover, but he found himself staying awake longer and longer to watch you, caress you. He thought it a much more worthwhile use of his time.
A while later, you'd been sent to the settlement that'd grown up at the center of the former drive-in theater a bit down the road from the Abernathy place. You were rather enamored with the place, both because of its historical use and because it had a fairly interesting crop setup, attempting to squeeze the most use out of what parts of the ground weren't paved. Personally, he felt less welcome at this place than he often did at other settlements, though other settlements coincidentally also seemed to have more ghouls already living there. However, when you wanted to stick around for a bit, caught up in helping work out some kinks with their crop watering system, he didn't object or complain, happy to see you happy. He'd simply make himself scarce during the day, often scavenging or patrolling the outer edge of the place and leaving you to socialize and play in the dirt, which is where he found you upon his return one early fall evening, the air growing chilly as the breeze blew through the little farmyard.
"How was your day?" you asked as he approached, sitting on the steps of the ramshackle barn the settlers had constructed and knocking mud off of your boots and the cuffs of your pant legs. The sun was quickly sinking behind the ridge at your back, darkness beginning to envelop the edges of the place.
"It was great. Camped out watching the ridge for a while, so I'm pretty stiff. Wanna go for a walk with me, stretch your legs?" he asked, rolling a loose cig in his fingers before jamming it between his lips. Smiling, you nodded silently in agreement, sweeping the remaining dust and debris from your pants after you stood before moving to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with him, the two of you making your way northwest towards the other end of the paved lot. You chit-chatted a bit about the day's events, what each of you had accomplished. When you reached the decrepit building that made up the old movie screen, he took a pause to lean against the stained wall, finally lighting up his smoke. You busied yourself staring up at the stars quietly, leaving him to study you closely as he puffed away at the thing.
"Have you gone up top yet?" he asked eventually, exhaling the last of his cigarette through what remained of his nose as he tucked the butt into his pocket.
"No. Can you? I thought they had a guard post up there so I've been keeping away. I get so embarrassed when I get in the middle of their patrol routes." you asked, an excited glint in your eyes as you fiddled with the ends of your hair.
"They don't man it at night. Can't hardly see nothin' from it in the dark, strategically, and it's too hard to wire anything up there. Plus, anything happens and you're pretty far away, all things considered. Nor' says they're building a guard tower soon. Wanna take a look? Might still be neat."
You nodded enthusiastically, quickly reaching out to thread your fingers into his and tug him along, the slightly sickly glow of your Pip-Boy flashlight illuminating your way along the mostly intact path. The pair of you climbed the old metal stairs together, hand-in-hand, slowly making your way up to small walkway along the top of the massive screen.
He had been a little surprised that you'd never heard of a movie theater like this before you'd come here for the first time, since even he'd at least read about them once or twice (and vaulties often seemed to know so much more about the pre-war world than people from up-top), but Nora had gotten a kick out of showing both of you what remained of the massive projector in the decayed building at the far end of the lot, explaining to you how the whole place had worked back in the day. The wonder in your eyes had been adorable, and you'd spent quite a while afterwards talking about the few movies you'd watched growing up. It was rare for you to talk so much, so openly about where you came from, even if what you were talking about wasn't necessarily consequential information; he'd spent most of that night holding you in his lap, staring at you dreamily while you mused and remembered until you fell asleep.
"Wow. You can see so far!" you exclaimed quietly as you mounted the final step, pulling away from him by a few feet to look out across the scene. "Well, I bet you could see way further during the day. But still. How cool, John!"
He smiled, watching as you tested the strength of the hand rail before leaning against it cautiously, your head sweeping back and forth as you studied the inky horizon, dotted occasionally with flickering signs of life. There was a melancholic tang to the warmth he felt as he took in your excitement, your joy; this sort of small pleasure shouldn't be so novel to you, and it broke his heart just enough to color the moment.
Letting that feeling fall to the wayside, he leaned back against his own portion of the railing for a minute or two, fishing out the Jet container that sat in his pocket beside his smokes and hitting it quietly a couple of times. The pleasant, buzzing feeling of intoxication wrapping around his consciousness sent his head falling back laxly, lids heavy as he studied your silhouette against the moonlight, the lines of your body and the dancing form of your hair in the slight breeze. The smell of you in the air.
Nuzzling up close behind you after a beat, he wrapped his arms around your waist, pressing his cheek to your temple as he held you close. His heart sped up further, already racing from the amphetamines coursing through him, when you relaxed into his grip, the back of your head resting along his shoulder. The two of you had been enmeshed in whatever your little entanglement could be called for a bit, and you didn't ever seem uncomfortable with him, personally, but sometimes more intimate contact still made you a bit skittish.
For a few minutes, he appreciated the view along with you, rubbing your sides softly, massaging the dip in your lower back where you often complained of tension after a long day. Eventually, however, his hands wandered further, grazing softly over your breasts and smirking at how you sighed in response, lips sliding down to tuck against your throat. Between his physical adulation and the growing chill of the dark, your nipples pebbled quickly, his fingers alternating between playing with each of them, setting you to squirming against him. He toyed along your belt line for a beat, forcing your attention to where his touch was landing as he gently unbuttoned your pants and slid his hand inside.
"It's alright, I gotcha." he assured you, supporting your stiffening form easily as his index finger teased over your swollen peak through your underwear, feeling a growing wet spot that made his core ache.
"I'm dirty, John." you murmured, voice hushed with embarrassment, your face and throat just a bit warmer under his lips.
"You think I'm clean?" he teased in response, nibbling at your earlobe.
The slightly worried fidgeting you were doing continued for another minute or so, but the more the damp patch expanded under his touch, the less nervous you seemed; still high-alert, but drifting further and further into his touch. Soon, you were relying on him to support most of your weight as your hips moved themselves back and forth against his hand. He could feel, see the signs of you approaching your orgasm, but dragged his fingers up and down the length of your slit a few times to tease you, to drag out the moment. The tension made you whimper sharply, teeth closing around your lower lip in an attempt to silence yourself.
"Better keep it quiet, cutie. You'll get us caught." he murmured, low and close to your ear; the shudder that broke down your spine, vibrating through your back and into his chest, was delicious.
His cock was aching against your backside, throbbing with anticipation, and it was unbearable. Head spinning, his hand that had moved to knead absentmindedly at your hip slipped further to press at the back of your thigh, pushing your knee skyward until your foot caught on the lower bar of the rail, balancing your leg there until you took over, bracing it there yourself. This new position granted him more reach, his fingers swiping lower along your now slightly exposed entrance.
"Mm, John." you whispered. A warning.
"Trust me, baby." he breathed in reply, stroking over the velvety soft spot a few more times before moving his fingers back to your needy clit. He wanted to sink his fingers deep inside you, to feel you wrapped around any part of him in that base, primal way, but resisted the temptation, sensing your hesitation.
Your more open stance also granted him easier access to roll your bud between his fingers, and quickly you were dancing along that knife's edge once more, your heat and sounds and smell all overwhelming him at equal speed.
His need had reached a fever pitch, your squirming and whimpering shooting sparks down his spine; this, combined with his already high proclivity for sexual behavior on Jet, was more than enough to send him wrestling his cock free through his suddenly unzipped fly. Your shirt had bunched up in the back, leaving a sliver of flesh exposed that he fixated on as soon as he'd noticed it. Stroking himself a few times in the cool air, he pressed closer, the pierced underside of the head dragging along your smooth, soft skin and making him hiss.
Feeling any part of your body against him like that drove him instantly mad, and he had to focus almost entirely on you to ensure that he didn't blow past you on his way to the finish line. Fortunately, it wasn't an issue, as you moved your hand down on top of his, pressing down hard, and soon stiffened completely against him, burying your face in his shoulder as best as you could to muffle your cries as you came apart; he followed you almost instantly, your sounds overwhelming him as he shot all over the ground.
The two of you savored the bliss of your aftershocks for a moment, clinging to one another, but quickly he felt you attempting to right your clothing, and he allowed you to pull away a bit. Probably smart anyway; neither of you had exactly been silent towards the end, though he couldn't hear anyone ascending the stairs.
"You alright?" he asked as he set to fixing his pants. You nodded silently, smiling shyly at him as you reached for his hand.
"Aht, watch out. Don't, uh, step in that." he murmured, guiding you to his side before you made your way down, passing by a couple people who side-eyed you on your way back to your shared bed, set up at the top of the projector room. Laid down for the night, your cheek on his sternum, he'd assumed you were asleep when you finally spoke up for the first time in a while.
"John." you whispered softly.
"Hmm?" he replied, eyes closed as his hand stroked your back.
You hesitated a moment, blush-heavy and squirming.
"Is your...ah..."
He allowed you some time to try and get your words out, but it was clear you were struggling.
"You don't have to be embarrassed, babe. Whatever it is, you can ask me. I won't be upset or anything." he assured, rubbing your shoulder gently.
"...is your penis pierced?" you finally whispered conspiratorially.
He was genuinely shocked into silence for a few seconds before breaking out in uproarious laughter, his head rolling limply to and fro as you giggled along with him.
"Wow, you could tell against your back like that?" he asked, rather astonished.
"I wasn't sure it's what I was feeling." you replied, sheepish. "I'm sorry, I'm not trying to be weird about it or anything. I just didn't know that was a thing that people did. Then again, I didn't know people pierced things in their faces until I met that lady at The Third Rail. Remember?"
He chuckled warmly at the memory, at your candor and the pink dusting your face as you sat up a bit, still looking at him curiously.
"You look like you wanna ask me more questions about it." he said.
"Did it hurt?" you asked quickly.
"Eh, it's been such a long time since I got it, I don't really remember all that well." he white lied, fully knowing he didn't remember how badly it hurt for entirely different reasons.
You nodded, the wheels in your mind clearly turning rapidly.
"Does it, uh..." The effort of forcing the uncomfortable words out of your mouth was clear on your face. "...does it have a function, or is it just for looks? Like, do you use it?"
"Oh, yeah." he grinned, ignoring the way he had started to grow stiff again.
You didn't ask for more elaboration on that front, but your mystification was clear, gaze wandering as the very faint smell of your arousal tinged the air. Eventually, you spoke again.
"What made you wanna get it?"
This question, shockingly, was the one that stopped him in his tracks. He'd told you not to be embarrassed when you'd first brought it up, the whole thing rather entertaining to him, but something about this specific inquiry agitated the ugly knot of shame that permanently lived at his core, his own face and chest suddenly feeling flush.
Was there even a way to phrase the truth that wouldn't just be embarrassing? What was the low-key way to say I was incredibly fucked up on Ultrajet at the time and it just felt like the right thing to do, so I did it myself?
There's only one thing he could think to say that wouldn't completely demean himself in your eyes, and it came out on the back of a halfhearted chuckle.
"Don't do hard drugs, kid."
Your face was unreadable in response to that, only for a heartbeat, but long enough to make him physically squirm in discomfort. But you simply chuckled in a satisfied, incurious way, laying a sweet kiss against his cheek before tucking in. He had trouble sleeping that night, but also found it tough to look too long at your sleeping face.
Eventually, you two made your way back northwest, making a very careful sweep through Concord as you went along. Both of you had jokes about what had happened last time; neither of you said a single word until you were turning into the crumbled Red Rocket lot anyway. The very first thing you did after you dropped your pack onto the ground was climb up and double check that your vault suit was still tucked away where you'd left it. When you were satisfied with what you'd found, you unpacked your things and asked if he'd like to go over to "town" and say hello. He agreed, ready for a stiff drink after how tense he'd been on the way back.
You held hands as you crossed the bridge, and it was a real labor for him to not actively gloat at the guards you always passed. After procuring a drink from the fairly well-stocked bar, he noticed you surrounded by the usual flock of folks who wanted to chat and exchange stories, so he stepped outside. Wandering over to where the handful of ghouls who'd taken up residence in Sanctuary usually hung out in the evenings, congregating beneath a little patched-up awning on some decently nice lawn furniture, he easily folded himself into the conversation and made himself welcome.
A few long anecdotes and one too many cigarettes later, the sun was beginning to dip behind the treeline to the west, and he figured it was time to make a reappearance and collect you. However, when he wandered back into the bar, grabbing another beer on his way through, he didn't find you. Exiting through the only other door, he cast his eyes downhill towards the waterfront and found you standing there with someone he never saw you alone with: Preston Garvey.
The Minuteman second-in-command wasn't a bad guy by anyone's report, nor an especially exciting one, as far as John could tell. He was friendly, obviously eager to help out and have a positive impact on things around him, but he was also far too close to you for the ghoul's taste, and his heckles were raised high as he quickly made his way towards you. His sharp ears picked up on the conversation in progress, his steps unconsciously light and quiet.
"...just don't want you to have to deal with that, you know? People can be so awful, and you don't deserve that."
"That's very considerate of you." you replied politely, your eyes seemingly glued to the ground. "But your concern really isn't necessary, I promise."
John had largely closed the distance between himself and the pair of you, lingering about ten feet away, just far enough out that he didn't draw Garvey's eye as he approached. He hesitated to move closer, though, afraid of how he may react if things didn't go his way. The sweating beer bottle in his hand was already clenched tighter in his grip than was likely wise. His entire body felt like it was made of lead, dense and frozen and so heavy that he was sinking into the soft ground beneath him.
"Well, I won't act like I know what's best for you better than you do. I just wanted to say that I think you're great, and that I think you deserve someone who will treat you just as great." the younger man finished up, taking another quarter-step into your bubble and placing his hand against your cheek for a beat. This, alone, was enough to make John apoplectic, but when Preston had the gall to slide his crooked index finger under your chin and lift it your face towards his, he lost it for a split second, the glass vessel in his hand suddenly exploding into a plume of tiny shards, a crumbled, wet, sharp mess remaining in his bloodied grip. Fortunately, you seemed to teleport a few steps back, your hands up in a bit of a defensive gesture.
Every non-existent hair he had stood on end in that moment, his entire body coated with goosebumps as the realization that he was about to make a grave, grave mistake settled onto him. The broken remains of the bottle felt far too useful in his hand, suddenly, and he tossed the whole dripping thing to the ground before turning and pounding sandy soil up the embankment and back across the bridge. John wasn't necessarily one to lose his cool like this often, but he knew well enough that he needed somewhere to direct this anger before it boiled over in a major way.
Shoving the door open, he stomped past the few pieces of furniture you'd dragged in, coming to lean against the old counter top towards the back, the one that you'd told him you'd like to get rid of. However, the two of you had been unable to figure out how to extract the thing because it was welded to the floor. For a few weeks, he'd been pondering how to remove it cleanly to surprise you. He'd been unable to come up with anything thus far.
Something about the presence of the thing only fueled his breakdown, and he delivered a vicious kick to the side of it, the metal and vinyl folding and splintering where his foot met the side. Typically, this little bit of destruction and catharsis would've been enough to quell him into stopping. But seeing the evidence of his anger and his lack of self-control only made him feel like more of a fuck-up, like more of the undesirable, unstable junkie he often saw when he looked in the mirror, and the resulting rage was blinding. Before he knew it, he'd wrapped his arms around the lip of the thing, yanking it once, twice, then a third time with all the strength at his command, until the whole thing broke loose from the base where it had been sealed to the floor. Bits of rusted-out metal and fat splinters of rotted wood clattered to the floor as he swung around, forcing it through the doorway to his right and throwing the thing as hard as he possibly could. It flew further than he'd anticipated, arcing rather high and crashing through the moldy awning of one of the Concord homes down the hill. There was skittering, the flapping of wings in response, frightened creatures fleeing the sudden sound as John stood there in silence, the burning in his muscles and the pain in his hands finally allowing him to focus on something other than his ears ringing in anger. After a long, dizzy moment, he turned and went back into the living room area, slumping against the wall as he studied all the metal shards sticking out of the floor where the counter top had been.
"I thought maybe you'd left." your voice came suddenly from the doorway.
"Nah, I wouldn't do that do you." he replied, trying his hardest to mean it, to not be exactly that type of guy. He couldn't make himself look at you. "Just needed to get away for a bit. Didn't wanna do anything stupid."
"Honey, your hand." you pointed out as you came closer, brow furrowed with worry as he examined himself; the back of his scarred appendage was bleeding somewhat generously, sliced by a nail or something similar in his momentary tantrum. He felt nothing about the wound, any pain he'd felt from what he'd done quickly leaving his body as the smell of you quickly filled the small space, further clouding his already racing thoughts. His beer bottle hand was already healing rapidly.
"It's fine. It'll be fine." he barely muttered in reply, reaching out to grab you just firmly enough by the wrist to pull you close enough that he could give you a thorough once-over.
"Are you okay?" he asked.
You nodded, eyes wide, hair wild and cheeks ruddy as you gazed back at him like a startled doe.
For once in his life, not using the Jet hadn't helped the situation, seemingly. His head still spun with conflicting emotions and thoughts, every muscle still wired with energy from the adrenaline and from your general proximity, making him fidget and grasp for words as his body rebelled, reacting strongly to you. He was drowning in your scent, the tang of your sweat, but it was realizing that Garvey's smell still clung lightly to you from your brief contact that was the final straw.
Your heart raced under your skin, your pulse flying under the press of his fingertips as he pushed you firmly against the decrepit wall. You exhaled harshly through your nostrils, hands coming to knot themselves into his work flannel as his mouth pressed forward with its assault on yours. He expected you to begin to push him away using the shirt for leverage, but couldn't force himself to pull back first through the blinding possessive rage he felt.
John had always been more of a “free love” sort of guy most of his life, jumping from partner to partner without much thought or care, and, because he'd never put much emotional investment or time into any particular partner, had never really cared enough about another person to feel possessive of them. Jealousy was such a negative, ugly emotion that he hated to waste any of his time on it, but the fire he'd felt in his gut from the moment he'd watched that asshole place his fingers under your chin to tilt your face up, obviously angling for a kiss, could not be ignored. This was the final straw.
He'd heard the whispers of the people around Sanctuary, around every settlement and trade outpost; the speculations about why a woman like you would choose to travel with a ghoul as a companion, why you'd spend almost all your time with him, how you were so comfortable touching and being touched by him. Criticism from shitheads about his own actions and choices rolled off of him like water off a mirelurk shell, valid or not, but it stirred him up fiercely to hear these people you'd worked so hard for, given so much of yourself to, judge you, as if they had any room. Some of the more hateful ones called you a fetishist and a freak when they thought no one else could hear, and if it weren’t for you specifically asking him to not start trouble around the settlements unless you started it first, he would have made those people swallow their own teeth long ago.
Preston had added himself to that list the moment he made it clear that he pitied you for your choices.
John hadn’t previously had much problem with the guy, save for noticing the glint in his eye when he spoke with you. He couldn't necessarily begrudge him his attraction to you, though; you were, after all, the most beautiful woman in the Commonwealth, hands down. Beyond that, you were kind, generous, hardworking, and terrifyingly smart. You’d give the clothes off your back to anyone who needed them, and would offer a stranger your shoulder to cry on if they needed. It was nearly impossible to not fall in love with you, just a little. He knew; he had tried and failed as miserably as he'd ever failed at anything.
The guy’s feelings themselves weren't the problem, though; the problem was that he obviously thought himself some sort of contender for your affections. Or, he was trying to make himself one. It couldn't be tolerated. Hell, replace him with Edward Deegan, that rat McCready, or any other random man plucked out of the ether...the conclusion was the same, regardless. If this trespass was allowed, every man in the Commonwealth who fancied you or cut of your under suit would feel comfortable trying to pick you up right in front of him, and it'd be nothing but trouble for everyone involved. John's tolerance for everyone else encroaching on what was his had finally run dry.
His mouth found the side of your throat, placing open-mouthed kisses and sharp nips the way he knew you liked in a beeline from your clavicle to your ear. When you squirmed, letting out an airy moan as you yanked him closer, he latched onto your pulse point and sucked, bathing the skin with his tongue hard enough to leave a spotted, wine-colored mark that you wouldn't be able to hide the next day. You liked that, too, but you’d never admit it out loud.
Well, unless he made you, maybe...
A low, drawn out moan escaped your mouth, your hands moving up to cup the back of his head, pulling him still closer. He obliged you, pressing the line of his entire body against you, making you feel his throbbing need against your belly, and you whimpered in response, your hands finding the top button of his flannel and beginning to work it open.
He paused his ministrations, reaching up to cup your cheek gently, your own fingers stalling for a single beat as he gazed into your eyes, trying to reassure you that he wasn’t upset with you. And he wasn’t. You hadn’t done anything wrong. But he was upset at that guy’s uncharacteristically bold actions, his disregard of his place in your life. The disregard of the others. The disrespect.
He needed to assert his place. He needed to show you how he felt.
Promptly, he resumed his ministrations. By the time you'd managed to undo the last cracked button, he’d left a huge, oblong purple bruise along the side of your elegant throat.
“John,” you whispered in between harsh breaths, your hands moving to yank the thin shirt over your head. “I want you.”
The tone of your voice was sure and clear despite how it trembled. When he fully looked up to your face, you were gazing at him dreamily, your brow furrowed with effort as your hips began to move, trying to find some friction against his. Just like the previous night, like every night, he could clearly see your desire, your trust, in the way you gazed at him. Still, though, a tug of guilt in his chest had him chastising himself as he hesitated; he should protect you and tell you to not do this. Not only because of the societal response you could expect for being with a ghoul, but because he was far from anyone’s ideal man. He didn’t deserve you. He wasn’t sure he could be everything you needed, and wasn’t sure a man even existed on Earth who could be all that a divine woman like you deserved.
Even knowing this, he couldn't pull himself away from you. The overwhelming desire he'd felt since the moment you'd met burned too hot in his gut, long transformed from a deep want to a need.
“John.” you repeated, slightly louder though just as winded, and it sunk in just how much you made it feel like his name again.
His head dropped to your shoulder, kissing across it placidly for a moment. Your hands traveled up his back, eventually moving up to grab the tricorn from his head and toss it onto the counter beside you. He felt the warm bloom of self-consciousness as you pecked along his bald head gingerly, your lips feeling extra plush against his ruined skin.
“This really what you want, sunshine?” he asked, forehead coming to rest against your own as his hands rubbed your sides.
You didn’t respond vocally, but instead reached out to stroke his cheek like he had yours, thumb swiping back and forth for a few moments. There was a silence, but a warm, comfortable one that wrapped you together in your own little bubble. When your eyes met again, he had his answer.
He led you by your soft hand to the next room, ditching his shirt, the two of you dropping onto the mattress in the corner, chuckling at the plume of dust that rose from the thing as you cuddled close. Your hands absentmindedly petted at him, one twiddling at one of the frayed tails of his shirt, averting your eyes. Soon, the unoccupied hand began to move down his chest, stroking the wiry muscle of his exposed torso. Your palm was warm and soft against him as you explored his chest, eyes following your hand as it slowly moved lower. He tensed a bit as your hand swept along his abdominals ticklishly, fingertips dipping below the waistband of his jeans. You hesitated a moment, your fingers retreating slightly to sweep back and forth along the upper seam, toying with the loose threads there.
John was radiating tension at the way you were touching him; you had never been quite this bold before, and his head swam with the overwhelming amount of emotion that he felt as your fingers began to dip below again, shyly. He was proud of you, knowing how much work you’d put into getting over your nerves to get to this point; at the same time, he was beyond touched that he was the man you’d chosen to share these milestones with. Both of these tender feelings made the overwhelming arousal he felt at your soft hands on his body a little embarrassing.
His breath caught in his throat when the tips of your fingers lightly brushed his erection, the sound odd. You froze, eyes moving to his to assess; he gave you a small head shake to convey that you hadn’t hurt him or anything, his usually silver tongue caught in his throat.
Given the green light, you slid your hand just a little further down, warm against the side of his shaft as you gently explored; your ginger poking and prodding was unpracticed, almost clinical, your hand trembling a little as you made him squirm. He was already rock hard, electricity sparking from where you touched him, and his frazzled emotional state didn’t help in the slightest. He gave a little grunt, trying to remain quiet and calm but feeling a mounting need to touch you, to kiss you, to hold you down against the filthy mattress and make you come undone.
He wanted you naked.
Generally, when you two got to fooling around, you were more than okay with him touching you both over and under your clothes, and you responded to him beautifully, making it easy to figure out what you liked and what you didn’t. However, you were often very nervous to fully remove your clothes when he made it clear he actually wanted to touch you. In the past several weeks you’d been so bold as to let him push up the hem of your shirts or open the blouse of your dresses to softly fondle and kiss your breasts, which you held and shielded with your hands when he wasn’t directly touching them, your face dusted with a dusky, embarrassed blush.
It hurt him terribly to see that you doubted your own beauty; if he had his way, he would spend every day from here to the next end of the world showing you how gorgeous you really were. But at the same time, the lingering shyness you demonstrated drove him wild.
A sharp inhale left his mouth when you suddenly wound your index finger lightly around the head of his cock, the softly calloused pad collecting some of the precum that dribbled from the slit and dragging along his piercing. You jumped a little at the sound, but when he looked at you in the dim light, your eyes were wide and the corners of your mouth were turned up ever-so-slightly in an expression of gentle confidence. He didn’t dare interrupt you, not wanting to risk throwing you off whatever wave you were currently on, instead tucking what remained of his lower lip between his teeth as you shimmied a little closer to him, the new proximity granting you a little more length of your arm to slide into his pants.
When your soft fingers curled all the way around his shaft, he nearly lost himself.
He cried out, the sound embarrassing and dragging out as you moved your grip on him up and down, slowly, hesitantly, his face burning with the shameful realization that he’d nearly cum in his pants like a teenager from a single touch from you. He was grateful his blush couldn’t be read on his tarnished skin as he dropped his face to your shoulder once more, placing a series of little kisses across the tan softness there as your blush began to work it's way down to your chest. One of his hands swept down your spine, caressing you softly as it slipped low and came to rest in the small of your back.
“Fuck.” he grunted, his jaw clenched tight as you continued your gentle ministrations, “I wanna see you, baby. Please.”
Your hand paused for a moment, giving a couple more gentle strokes before pulling back. When he lifted his head again, you were looking at him straight-on.
“Only if I get to see you, too.” you replied simply, your voice just above a whisper.
He was surprised at that; John had no real issues being a ghoul, but generally made it a practice to stay mostly clothed during sex for the ease of things (and, you know, just in case someone decides they don’t like what they see). His shirt was already hanging open, exposing his chest to you, but he went shirtless or open shirted frequently, both at home and on the road. It wasn’t an unfamiliar sight to you. He pulled back from you a bit to straighten up, his hands coming to work the fly of his jeans down as he gazed back at you, lips swollen and throat heavily marked where you sat, leaning back against the moldering wall.
“Deal.”
At that, you sat up more yourself, fingers slowly moving up to work the clasps on the back of your now well-worn bra loose. John stood and busied himself removing his jeans, taking a few extra seconds to fold them before placing them on the floor with his boots. As much as he wanted to stare at you, to fix his gaze on you and savor every moment of your undressing, he knew it would make you anxious or self-conscious, and willed himself to keep his eyes on the floor or the wall for a minute. When he looked back over, you were stripped down to just your panties, your knees drawn up to your chest, obscuring your breasts from his view as you watched him, waiting.
He felt a sudden and unexpected wave of self-consciousness as your eyes traced over his almost-naked form, straining to make out the details of him in the rapidly fading light. He was grateful that night was falling. Following your lead, he left his boxers on and returned to the bed, sitting down gently beside you. You responded by leaning towards him, leaning your head on his shoulder. A few quiet moments passed, the only sounds the creaking of the ancient place's frame and the wind in the trees outside.
"Nervous?" he asked, unable to help himself.
You nodded, but softly; he cupped your face lovingly, kissing you a few times and feeling you relax towards him just enough that he could maneuver you down onto your back. Giggling, your smooth palms ran along his own body in turn, coming to rest along the crown of his head as he laid kisses down your torso. An approving hum escaped you as he let his tongue lathe across one of your nipples, a hand teasing along your mound, but you froze up a bit when he moved towards your stomach. Feeling your tension, he pulled up just enough to look at you.
"I'm sorry. It's not you." you said, eyes avoiding his.
"I know it isn't, honey. It's alright. You didn't do anything wrong. Just relax, okay?"
Your eyes closed, hands petting at his head in soft affirmation as he dragged his lips along your soft skin, minding the few pale scars that decorated it. He could tell you were self-conscious about how soft you were in the middle, but he loved it, resisting the urge to sink his teeth into the plushness. More than once, a simple little peek at your tummy when you were reaching up or changing had been enough to turn him on so badly he'd had to excuse himself for a bit. You'd be incredibly sexy pregnant, he often thought. Moving lower, he switched up and laid some playful bites along the inside of your right thigh, and you let out the most adorable little squeak.
However, when he let his lips ghost over your bare mound for the first time, a heavy shudder broke down your back, your other noises choking down to nothing. It took a great deal of self-control, but he managed to drag out teasing you for a bit, barely letting his breath tickle you before peeking his tongue out to take a small swipe at your folds. He deeply suspected that he wouldn't last long once he finally made it inside you, and he wanted to make sure you were completely satisfied before that happened.
Soon, the temptation to dive straight into you got to him, and he closed his lips around your puffy clit, lapping and bathing it with the tip of his tongue. You cooed at the sensation, grasping at the back of his head and grinding your hips forward. He grinned, delving deeper into your most sensitive place. Quickly, you were trying your best to fuck his face, rubbing your slit along his tongue and nose until he was forced to hold your hips down, wriggling and writhing until you were calling out his name and coating his tongue in your taste.
He was lightheaded from how much blood had rushed to his groin by the time he lifted his head from yours, giving you a second to breathe and regain your vision before pulling himself on top of you. Petting and stroking his favorite parts of you, he found himself lost in admiration for a long second, holding his gaze on your face until you finally looked back at him. There was an electricity in the air between the two of you, a magnetism drawing him in until you were close enough to share breath.
A terse little noise left your throat when the head of him first touched you, just barely laying against you, nestled in the fold where your thigh met the rest of you. Though he’d anticipated it (advancing to a “new step”, as it were, always made you a touch anxious and jumpy at contact, but John’s skin crawled at the idea that he might be doing something to you that you didn’t want), his immediate instinct was to pull away, to hold you and tell you that the pair of you didn’t have to do this, that he cared for you for reasons other than what he could take from your body, and that it would kill him if you didn't feel that. But the way you wrapped your arms around his narrow shoulders, burying that beautiful face against the weathered side of his neck as you tried to pull yourself closer, steadied him. You wanted this, and he wanted to give it to you.
He rested there for a minute or two, not moving, letting you adjust to his presence and listening to your breathing. It was shaky, and he dropped his chin to place a few kisses along the crown of your head, lingering with each. Slowly, he brought a hand to your chest and gently groped your breast, thumb circling your nipple tightly in the way he knew made you crazy, earning a couple quiet whimpers from your lips. You loosened your grip on his neck a little, relaxing back onto the bed enough to allow him to kiss you again, his mouth distracting you while his free hand slipped down to grip his erection, giving it a firm squeeze to alleviate the nearly unbearable pressure he felt as he slid it against you.
He broke away from you before he was aware what was happening, pulling his mouth back to moan as he really felt the silky wet heat of you against him for the first time. Pins and needles of pleasure bloomed up his spine and across his scalp; he was so close to what he’d been fantasizing about for almost a year, what he’d spent so many late nights and hazy jet-fueled afternoons jerking off thinking about. Again, he throbbed dangerously, threatening to blow his load before he was ready.
Forcing himself to focus, to come back into his own body a bit and retreat from the heady pleasure he was slipping into, he braced himself and slid the blunt head along your wet little seam, collecting your lubrication as he stroked over your clit, the swipe of the little metal bar making you shudder. To his surprise, while you were trembling and he could still smell fear pheromones in the air, you let out a moan, your hips shifting to work against his, rubbing yourself back against him. Seeing you growing bolder in your actions, compared to how anxious and tense you'd been before, made his heart and his cock swell simultaneously.
“Fuck, you’re so wet, baby.” he hissed, unable to keep a better handle on his filthy mouth; you responded with a sultry hum, seemingly appreciating his words but unsure how to respond. Your hips continued to cant against his, your breathing uneven, face pulled taunt in concentration. He groaned at the sight, rubbing himself against you a little faster. All the better if you came again before he slid home, he figured.
After another few minutes of continuing to stroke at your hard nub, you shuddered under him once more, moaning low and throaty as another rush of that shiny slick coated him. God, he’d been addicted to a lot of things in his life, but the best thing by far, and the only one he’d never be able to kick, was the sounds you made as you unraveled. No one else had ever heard your most intimate song, your sotto little moans and whimpers as you experienced feelings you'd been convinced you couldn’t feel before.
Pulling himself up from you just a little, his hand left his member and came up to brush your hair from your face once again, gently stroking your downy, flushed cheek as you worked to catch your breath. Never before had he wished he had a camera so badly; between your fully nude state beneath him, your kiss-bruised pout and throat, the wild crown of soft hair, and the way your deep, dark eyes beckoned to him as they slowly slid open, you were the most gorgeous sight he’d ever taken in. Cupping your face with both hands, he leaned in slowly, your eyes lingering on one another as he pulled you gently into another kiss. He wondered if you could taste yourself on his tongue.
For a few moments, he allowed the pair of you to fall back into you usual pattern of kissing; advancing, gently teasing, withdrawing before resurging once more like the sea. Slowly, his right hand pulled itself from your face, softly brushing the side of your breast and rib cage as it slipped further south. Fingers ghosting just barely over your mound, he gripped his aching cock where it hung heavy between you, giving a light squeeze around the shaft as he repositioned himself slightly, lining up. As the head of him nestled against your opening, you gave a small whimper, pulling back just enough to disconnect your mouths, lips brushing his as you spoke.
“John.”
He waited a long moment for you to say more, but you seemed unable to force whatever you wanted to say out.
“You ready?” he asked gently, voice a soft murmur against your mouth. His body was tense as he awaited your response, ready to pull back if needed, but you wordlessly cuddled up to him again and let out a deep sigh, wrapping your legs just a little tighter around his waist. Peppering your jaw and throat with small, distracting kisses, he pressed forward a bit, undulating his hips back and forth a few times until the head slipped fully inside. You tensed a bit, and he set to marking up the other side of your throat, drawing your attention and making you gasp and hum as he worked his way further inside.
When about half his length had been worked inside, he took a pause, sitting up a little higher to check on you, finding you staring shyly at him, worrying away at your lower lip. Your face morphed a bit when he gave a couple of thrusts of equal depth, and he watched you processing the new sensations, bringing his thumb to your clit again. Breathing heavily in response, you shuddered, and he let a low moan slip himself when you started to work your hips back and forth in a crude arc.
The way you were wriggling and clenching already beneath him set his hips to moving further, faster. Every muscle in his back and flanks burned with withheld strength, effort to not literally fuck you through the mattress, but eventually he'd built up to full-length strokes, using whatever bounce remained in the decrepit springs to move you easily back and forth along his length.
Taking in the bruising along the sides of your throat where he'd been kissing and sucking at your skin, John hummed approvingly, nuzzling you and taking a deep lungful of your rich scent. The lingering edge of his own smell that coated you turned him on more than he'd have thought, and he gave a much harder buck than he'd intended.
"Oh, f-" you gulped at the sudden stab before silencing yourself, the word he wanted to hear so badly teasing across his ears and sending him gnawing along your shoulder again.
"Go on, honey." he growled, his hips steadily picking up their pace, body pinning yours just a little harder. "Say it."
You didn't reply, your face as red as he'd ever seen it as his fingers moved to your abused clit again, earning a pitiful whimper as he began to rub at you again.
"Beg me to fuck you. I wanna hear you say it, baby. I need it."
"John...!" you gasped as he flicked the tip of his finger just right; however, he paused completely when you still refused to say the magic words, simply applying pressure near where you wanted it as he continued to pound away at you.
"Mmm." you whined, clenching around him over and over, those big eyes brimming with tears.
"Tell me."
"F-fuck! Fuck me, John! God!" you finally spat, everything tense and twitching and spinning as he fully let himself go, wrenching one of your legs up onto his shoulder and driving as hard into you as he felt he could let himself without splitting you in two, his fingers back at work. You squirmed under him at the almost punishing pace, fingernails digging firmly into his back; the pain made him growl again, and the sound was seemingly enough to push you over that edge, squeezing and fluttering around him fast and firm as you gasped and sputtered his name.
He was able to hold out for a few more strokes, his hips stuttering as the pins and needles creeping up his spine began to fully wash over him.
“God, baby, I love you.” he huffed breathlessly, overwhelmed and not giving you a moment to respond as his mouth crashed into yours once more. He couldn’t bring himself to feel bad or embarrassed for saying it; he did love you. He loved everything about you, and every day he loved you more and more.
Your reply, whether you'd fully heard what he’d said or not, was to throw your arms around his neck and kiss him back deeply as your bodies continued to glide across one another, yours faltering and growing limp as he crested the peak.
John had never really wanted kids before. He felt himself far too unreliable, too unlike someone anyone should look up to as a father figure. However, that didn't stop the most primal part of his brain from whispering to him how perfect it would be to knock you up, for everyone to see you full to the brim with his child and know that you were his and only his.
"Fuck, I wanna cum inside you." he growled, quickly following up with "I can't get you pregnant." when you made worried, bleary eye contact. Your responding whimper made his gut tighten, hot and sharp and so ready, but he also felt a sting of guilt behind his breast at what felt too close to a lie. Still, when you fluttered around him hard once more, it was the end, his head falling heavily into the crook of your neck, his moans filling your ear as he filled you completely, throbbing into you again and again as you clung to him.
He wasn't sure how long he laid there, almost all of his weight pressing down on you until he regained the presence of mind to hold himself up a bit. Both of you panted like you'd been fleeing for your lives, exposing your overheated skin to the cool air while still desperately holding one another. There was so much racing through his mind, thoughts and creeping worries, but his exhausted body rebelled, refusing to allow him to even sit up. You appeared similarly situated, fighting your way into a comfortable position across his chest before letting your eyes close heavily. Quickly, your breathing fell even and gentle, your hair wild as it laid across his ribs. Somehow, you still looked so innocent to him.
Quickly, he followed you into sleep, clutching you close with no shame, his mind fogged with the smell of him all over you.
-
It was the chill of the very early morning air licking at your slightly exposed back that began to rouse you several hours of deep sleep later, a shiver breaking out up and down your spine as you curled yourself up closer to the man beneath your arm, staving off having to pull away and get up for a few more minutes by sapping his ample body heat as he snored lightly, blissfully unaware. You drew in a long, deep breath, stretching your back as best as you could without moving too much as the very familiar smell of him filled your lungs; tobacco, cologne, and that slight smell all ghouls seemed to carry that was somewhat like an old book. It was a great comfort to you, and soon you felt yourself beginning to drift back off into the inky embrace of sleep.
However, just a few moments later you began to feel the nagging tickle of your full bladder beginning to protest your posture, the feeling rapidly becoming more urgent as you laid there, trying your hardest to ignore it. You huffed, cursing your incredibly regular bathroom schedule mentally. Resigning yourself to your fate, you gently rolled onto your back, giving you just enough space from your still snoring partner to slowly sit up and look around the formerly abandoned gas station.
It was early, the night still holding its grip on the room as the sunrise struggled to break its way through the windows. Grasping around, you found your Pip Boy, strapping it onto your arm quietly as you rose from the floor where the two of you had constructed your makeshift bed set, tucking the blanket around your partner’s still snoring form as you gave another shudder, casting a glance around the room again in search of your jacket. When you didn’t locate it immediately, you made your way for the door, grabbing John’s long red coat from the table near the door where he’d left it instead, wrapping it tight around your naked body as you quickly padded outside. It wasn’t worth waking John up early if you didn’t have to just to turn your flashlight on.
Winding your way around the corner of the place, eyes scanning your surroundings for any new threats, you quickly made your way to the tree line in the back yard, picking a concealed spot before bunching the coat’s tails up around your waist to squat.
You hunched there, nose and toes freezing in the crisp air, and closed your eyes, trying to hurry though your task but distracted by your brain’s undeniable urge to run though last night’s events again in your mind, to dissect each moment for meaning and for the ability to store the memory away for later.
There were so many moments you wanted to keep hold of, turning each one over carefully in your mind as you cleaned yourself up, your walk back to the Rocket much less urgent; the way he’d pressed you against the wall, the heat of his insistent kisses and gropes, the sound he’d made as he lost himself deep inside you.
The sound of his rough voice, cogent, but overwhelmed, as he’d told you he loved you.
Your pulse raced as you remembered how those words hit you, how you’d struggled to try to return them against his smothering kiss. You’d loved him for what felt like eons now, and you were indescribably excited to have broached this particular milestone, despite the mild lingering doubts that he’d only been lost in the moment when he said it. The closeness you'd been building ever since you'd been introduced had always felt so easy, so natural, and so foreign to you, that you concluded it could really only be love.
As your bare feet stepped up onto the front stoop of the place you'd begun to see as home, you could hear the familiar sound of John’s lighter striking, your pace picking up as you hurried down the short hall to see him sitting up on the dingy mattress on the floor, tossing the old gold-plated lighter a bit to the side, onto his folded pile of clothes. Gaze lifting to appraise your body lazily as his head turned to face you, freshly lit cigarette dangling loosely between his thin lips, he smirked at you as you hurried across the cold floor, coat drawn tight around you.
“Well, ain’t this a pleasant surprise.” he mused, voice thick with sleep as he took a long drag, his face briefly lit up by the red-orange glow of the burning tobacco as he slowly looked you up and down. “I can’t lie, wearing my coat’s a real hot look on you, babe. Then again, you could wear a tato sack and look just as sexy. You really don’t need to try.”
Your cheeks burned with discomfort at the positive attention you were receiving, but at the same time, you giggled and felt a warm sensation deep in your stomach, standing a little taller as you approached. Shifting down onto your knees as you saddled up beside him, you kissed him on the cheek and leaned against him, seeking warmth beneath the blanket.
“Cold this morning!” you exclaimed, chattering your teeth as you snuggled your head into his firm chest. John wasn’t a large man in terms of his general build, but the muscle tone he did have was deceptively strong due to his ghoulification. He chuckled at your dramatic show of discomfort, slinging his free arm around you to hold you close, leaning back to blow his latest drag away from you.
“Sleep good?” he asked, rough palm rubbing comfortingly up and down your back, making the lightest of scratching sounds against the old wool.
“Oh, like the dead.” you replied, eyes peeking open to look up at him. “Better than I think I ever have before. I only even woke up because I was chilly.”
“You did seem like you were out pretty good. I woke up for a few a couple hours ago to readjust a bit but I was out. Turns out having the most gorgeous woman in the Commonwealth laying naked across your chest is quite the sleep aid.”
You blushed again as he threw a wink at you, giggling as you sank down further under the cover, your head coming to rest in his lap, the bit of blanket over his groin bunching up at the back of your neck. John had always been very flirtatious with you; he was a flirtatious man by nature, sometimes using it to disarm people, but he was also honest, and you knew he wouldn’t tell you anything he didn’t mean. You could see his attraction to you, the affection he held for you in his deep, soulful eyes when he looked at you, too, and it made you feel genuinely beautiful and not just objectified for the first time you could ever remember.
John finished his cigarette above you, discarding the butt by tossing it in the little sack in the corner for trash and junk, before leaning down over you, peppering your hairline, then your forehead and cheeks, with soft kisses, his rough lips brushing you gently. Working his way slowly down your face, he paused when your mouths aligned, bringing one hand down to cup your cheek.
“Think I’ve got a joint already rolled in the right pocket of my coat. Wanna split it?” he asked, voice low and soft, just a hair above a whisper. He was so close that his lips brushed yours and his body heat soaked into your face like you were laid out in the sun.
“Sounds wonderful.” you whispered, leaning up to kiss him. His hand on your cheek slid around to the back of your head, cradling you against him as you smooched one another. In no rush to pull away, you stayed in his lap until he pulled back from you on his own before sitting back up, fishing around in the pockets of the old coat until you felt the little hand rolled cigarette, careful to not crush or bend it as you held it out to him.
“You wanna go first?” he asked, sifting through the pool of fabric beside him for his discarded lighter. “I’ll light it for you if you want.”
You thought for a moment, and then shook your head. You still weren’t confident enough smoking marijuana to not worry about looking silly. “Nah, I’m not sure I’m cool enough for the first hit yet.”
A warm, raspy chuckle met your ears in response as he placed the joint between his lips, hand cupped over his face as he attempted to light it. The slight breeze that danced across the floor kept catching the flame, bending it before snuffing it out. You drew yourself closer once more, bringing your own hands up alongside his, expanding the shield and allowing him to light it. He smirked at you as he drew in the first hit, holding it in deep as he held the smoldering joint out to you; you grasped it between your thumb and forefinger, feeling self conscious as you lifted it to your lips and inhaled a small amount. When you offered the thing back to him, he insisted you have another, so a second little puff disappeared up into the air.
“Taking awfully small hits there.” he teased as he accepted the joint back.
You blushed, looking down to the tattered blanket that covered your bodies haphazardly.
“It’s just really harsh and I don’t wanna die coughing!” you gave a little chuckle as you spoke. You toyed with a loose thread for a moment before continuing. “Do you think you could do that thing again where you, uh, pass it to me? It doesn’t make me cough nearly as much that way.”
He chuckled as he inhaled another hit, his voice strained as he held it during his reply.
“If you want me to kiss on you, babe, you can just ask. You don’t have to ask me to shotgun weed to you as an excuse.” he jested, leaning towards you, chin tilted down as he angled towards your mouth. You smiled at him as your lips met, his parting as you inhaled his exhale. This time, your lungs didn’t burn at all, but you could feel more of a head change as you pulled back, lips pursed for a long moment before exhaling the rich tasting smoke into the cool air, the tendrils dissipating lazily above your head.
Your hands slid further across the floor behind you, leaning back a little, head cocked in John’s direction, watching him as he took another hit. When he tilted his chin at you again a moment later, you accepted another kiss, another puff, your body sinking a few inches deeper into the pool of tingling warmth you were beginning to feel. Your eyes felt weighty, and your lids drifted closed for a moment in response to the general feeling of peace; when they opened again, he was raking his eyes up and down the exposed sliver of your torso and stomach that was revealed by the gaping, unbuttoned coat opening as you leaned back. Briefly, you felt the familiar urge to cover yourself, but you let it pass, trying to bask in your lover’s attention. You liked when he looked at you.
Things stayed like that between you for a while, the deep indigo of the room slowly fading into lighter hues of periwinkle as the warmth of the rising sun outside began to seep in, the world beginning its gradual awakening as the earliest birds began to sing in the distance. You shared more nips between you, the kisses after each stolen breath growing longer, deeper with each pass, tongues tasting one another languidly as you moved closer over time. The joint was growing short in John’s fingers, and you watched him evaluate it from where your head was resting on the point of his shoulder, your arms wrapped around the arm he was using to support himself.
“Probably one good hit left. Want any more?” he asked, taking a long inhale as the little roach lit up bright red.
You nodded silently, shifting up and scooting in more, hip to hip with him as your lips met once more. You kissed again, but this kiss felt different, the air electrified. Your body felt sluggish and heavy in the most pleasant way, a warm thrum building up between your thighs as you felt yourself begin to slick.
He pulled himself up, now free arm coming to wrap around your waist; you anticipated him pulling you a little closer, but instead, he used his strength to lift you with the one arm, gently swinging you into his lap and pulling a surprised little giggle from you, trailing into a slight cough as the last hit you’d shared left your lips and disappeared into the air. After a moment, you’d cleared your throat successfully and settled yourself, feeling your cheeks heat up just a little when the cleft of your ass pressed down onto his manhood through the thin blanket, finding it stiff. Your lower lip drew between your teeth as you slowly allowed your eyes to meet his, your arms winding around his neck as he smirked at you.
You exchanged a few more kisses, his hands slowly moving up your sides beneath the open coat, stroking you softly. Though his skin was rough and whorled, the radiation emanating from within producing an energy all its own, his touch was a great comfort and only made you relax further; there was no pain to be had from his hands, only pleasure, your body told you. Slackening further against his chest, you wound your palms up and down his torso, eyes following them, dipping your fingers lower and lower into the darkness under the blanket each time.
When John’s hands slowly ran back up, passing the sides of your breasts to tuck into the sleeves of the coat and sliding it ever so slightly down your shoulders, you made eye contact once more, his hands pausing as he looked at you, very clearly asking permission in the nonverbal way you’d come to develop. You hesitated for a breath before pulling your hands back, straightening your arms to allow him to tug the heavy garment the rest of the way off, laying it on the bedroll behind you as you leaned forward again, curling up against him as his arms wrapped around your bare back.
You still felt the unease, the trembling feeling in your stomach as you reclined nude in his lap, but to a much lesser degree than you ever had before, more a sensation of excited embarrassment than ashamed embarrassment, and you’d felt enough of the latter to know the difference. Leaning up just enough to look into his face, you smiled a little at him as his hands continued to stroke your back lovingly.
“How’s your ride, sunshine?” he asked after another few quiet moments passed, now stroking your sleep-mussed hair.
Grinning, you closed your eyes and leaned back the few inches you could for a moment. you felt pleasantly weighty and simultaneously floaty, swaying just a little as you hummed.
“I feel great. Good sleep and now this? I haven’t been this relaxed in quite a while.” you mused, bringing one hand up to cup his rough cheek, thumb sweeping along his thin lower lip. “Though, I don’t think last night hurt me on that front, at all. In fact, I have a theory about why I slept so well...”
Despite always feeling a certain degree of nervousness, exposure at your genuine expression of attraction, you tried hard to give the energy John gave you back to him, to reassure him that you wanted and...loved him as much as he did you. You always tried to return his flirtation in equal degrees, something you didn’t think he was quite used to. The hesitation you felt, the tension within holding you back when you wanted to love him loudly, enthusiastically, was a burden of your own and not one that you wanted to saddle him with. You knew that, as much as he may embrace and shield himself with his image as Hancock, wild, free-loving party-time mayor of Goodneighbor, in reality, John McDonough was really a very insecure man. Particularly after yesterday's events, which you were loathe to bring up directly, especially since he seemed to be in such an improved mood.
He smiled at you, wide and bright and genuine, very clear even in the still relative darkness of the room, leaning forward to kiss you again. Your legs wrapped around his hips tighter as the kiss deepened, pulling your bodies flush together as his mouth broke away from yous, trailing across your cheek, down your jaw and the column of your throat, settling in the hollow of your neck, bathing you with his tongue in that way that sent electric shocks down your spine. Combined with the tickling sensation of his heavy breath in your ear as he licked and kissed you, you quickly began squirming in his lap, flushing bright red in your hiding place against his shoulder.
The only thing that separated your bodies now was the thin fabric of the tattered blanket, and as you attempted to press yourself closer to him, you could feel him even clearer beneath you, prodding your inner thigh as you both slightly undulated against one another. To your surprise, you felt none of the typical seizing fear at the sensation, only more want; you buried your face further into his neck and let out a pitiful little whimper, hips grinding down harder.
John grunted in return, arms around you clenching just a little tighter as he throbbed noticeably against you. Your stomach tightened at this, the previously chilly room suddenly way too warm.
“John.”
His name left your lips for the umpteenth quietly, a tiny little huff of sexual frustration so quiet it barely touched your own ears, but seemed to reach his fine, as he squeezed you once more in response, holding you much firmer this time as his hips shifted beneath your own, arcing to rub himself along your increasingly sensitive seam. His lips left the spot they’d been tending to on your neck, nipping and sucking their way back up to your ear, breathless as he spoke to you in the hushed tone of a needy lover.
“Wanna go again?”
The question wasn’t just for show; no matter how insistently he was grinding himself against you, how desperately his hands may grasp you, you could say no if you wanted. No guilt tripping, no anger, no coercion. But knowing that only made you want him more, made you want to push away your option to refuse him even more insistently, even as you trembled in his lap.
Your lips found his throat, kissing at it sweetly and breathing wantonly to him, almost embarrassed by your own needy tone as you replied.
“Yes, please.”
Your body was loose and weighty as he lowered you down onto your back, the wool of his coat warm against your skin once more as he laid you down, the blanket falling away from his body and yours as you readjusted. He was kissing you again, rather chastely this time as his own warm body spread over top of yours, shielding you as he slowly kissed his way down your neck, across your chest, ghosting down across your breasts. As he moved his body further, he uncovered more and more of your own to the room, increasingly bright with the coming sunrise.
Pulling himself up onto his haunches between your feet, his hands stroked you gently as your heavy eyelids drifted shut. Rough palms brushed the sides of your breasts, cupping and groping them almost reverently, his breathing increasingly strained as his palms continued their southward exploration. You flinched a little as he brushed across the expanse of your midsection, which had grown softer during your time in Goodneighbor, but when he dropped his head to lightly kiss you there, you couldn’t help but giggle, gingerly cradling his head as he peppered your belly and hips with pecks.
Distracted by his gentle affections, you didn’t notice his other hand sliding up through the sheets before you felt him softly grab at the back of your thigh, sliding up over and across your hip as he sat up straight, leaving you pretty much entirely exposed. A little shudder ran up your spine, and you peeked at his face through barely open lids, watching him as he watched you. His left hand slid back up to knead and brush your breasts with his fingertips, swapping back and forth between the two as his right hand stroked the sensitive median between your naval and your mound. You bit back a giggle at the slight tickling sensation, instead giving a shudder as his fingers dipped lower, softly petting over the damp, dark curls that framed you.
Ever patient and ready to put in the work to prepare you, to move at your speed, he stayed that way for a while, paying thorough attention to your sensitive breasts while lightly teasing your apex, slowly re-acclimating you to his touch between your legs. As you slowly felt yourself building towards something, you relaxed, letting your thighs fall open further, and John took this as his sign to increase the boldness of his touches, sliding only the very tip of his long middle finger right down your slit. You gasped a little at the electric, but brief feeling of his rough finger pad ghosting over your swollen, sensitive bud.
Your eyes slowly slid back open, fixed on his face as he repeated these touches over and over for a few moments, his own dark gaze pinned on his hand as he stimulated you. Working to slick itself in response to his touch, your body gave a few little clenches around nothing, making you shiver as arousal wrapped around you in a ticklish gossamer curtain.
"I wanna try something." you blurted, garnering a sudden glut of confidence. John smiled at you curiously, pulling back enough to allow you some room to move.
You yanked yourself over him with far less grace than you'd have liked, but he didn't seem to notice in the slightest, his eyes glued boldly to the way your breasts bobbed and swayed with your moves. Peppering his mouth and face with kisses, you gave his chest a gentle push to urge him down fully onto his back. Your lips trailed down slowly, exploring the whorled skin of his chest, and he smirked at you, the tent he was pushing at you twitching. It was only now, this close and lingering, that you'd noticed he only had one nipple, the other simply absent along the plane of scarred muscle.
Pushing yourself further down his legs, your face came to around his navel and you pulled back to look at him, studying his reaction as you let your fingers play gently over his covered erection. A hiss flew from between his teeth, the sound vibrating just right down your spine and pushing you to grip him more firmly through the sheet, stroking back and forth slowly as you lowered yourself down onto your belly.
John was watching you incredibly close as his cock sprung into view, and it only spurred you on to run your tongue up the side of his shaft quicker, drawing a delicious shiver out of him. Your eyes locked with his as you dragged the tip up the underside, but by the time you closed your lips fully around the tip, his had screwed shut, his hands forming balled fists at his sides. Experimentally, you allowed your tongue to drag along the tip, doing small circles around it and tasting the slightly salty precum gathered there.
The piercing didn't feel as sharp against your tongue as you'd imagined it would, though it was an intriguing feeling nonetheless.
But John had other plans, it seemed, pouncing on you when you were most distracted, yanking himself free from your bewitching oral grip and pinning you down on your back once again. His hands were much faster and less gentle than the day before, eager and greedy and excitable as they groped at your breasts and tummy, slid wetly through your soaked folds. You tensed as he toyed briefly with your peak, but tensed more when he slid one, then two fingers inside you suddenly.
"Tease." he growled as he stretched you, his thumb playing harshly with your nub until you were nearly bowled over with a sudden orgasm nearly out of left field. The feeling of you tightening and gripping around his fingers must've been too much for him, as he was filling you for real before you were completely aware.
He wasn't nearly as gentle as he had been the night before, and the thrill knocked the air right out of you. The tempo of his thrusts was increasing with each passing moment, the blunt head of him beating against your tender cervix rhythmically as your body clenched and trembled around him, dancing on the edge of coming undone yet again. There was no hesitation from John as you let out a gasping shriek in response, your breathing uneven and shaky as your eyes struggled to focus. His hands gripped wherever he could reach with bruising intensity, the sharp, pinching pain of his fingertips digging into your thighs as he forced them open for him only adding to the pleasure you was feeling.
You felt his teeth ghost over your shoulder, replaced by his tongue as he seemed to grumble at himself chidingly. You let out a little whimper as you felt the sharp edge of his jaw disappear, your overstimulated brain fixating on the feeling of his teeth on your neck when he kissed you there. For a long time, you’d wondered what it would be like for him to bite you with real force. However, you couldn't ponder on the idea too long, interrupted by John's primal, almost absentminded growling.
“You know, if I were still human, I’d knock you up.” he said.
His words were low and hot in your ear as he drove himself in hard and deep once more, punctuating his statement with a growl. The words themselves frightened you, a threat to strip you of your autonomy in the name of staking a claim, the very thing that you'd given up everything to avoid. However, the fear, as well as the possessive connotation of the words, also brought forth another wave of arousal so intense that you tightened painfully around him, whimpering as he ripped you right to the edge of yet another orgasm.
He smirked at you, free hand moving to cup your sweaty cheek as he teased you with a series of half-strokes, body pushing insistently against your own; your face pressed back against him, leaning into his touch to ground you as you fluttered around him. However, that grounding touch was quickly ripped away as his grip moved to your waist, flipping you off him and onto your stomach so quickly it disoriented you, your grunts muffled into the grimy mattress.
There was a slick sound as he guided his leaking cock back to your entrance, your body tense as the head played across your slit. He bucked towards you wildly, and when he failed to properly catch, the little metal bar along the underside just barely caught against your bud in an unexpectedly delicious manner, once, twice, a sloppy third time. The sensation made you coo enthusiastically, tossing your sweaty hair and arching your back towards him like a cat at the peak of heat.
"Beg me, baby." he said, teasing across your entrance.
You felt an instant wash of heat up your spine and into your face, equal parts pure arousal and the most genuine sort of embarrassment, and the sadistic look in his own eyes didn't help. Though your brain was running on reserve power, distracted by all the amazing sensations and pulled in a hundred different directions by desire, you knew what he wanted from you, and you were just cognizant enough to squirm over it.
"Go on. Tell me what you want."
Another half-thrust, another teasing bump against your clit. You forced your ass as high in the air as it would go, your voice embarrassingly whiny and nasal when it finally broke free.
"Please, John."
He chuckled darkly at that.
"As much as I enjoy your manners, kid, I'm sorta looking for the opposite." he chuckled, letting the hand that wasn't gripping his erection play along your slit again. "Tell me."
He was teasing you as cruelly as he knew how, forcing you to feel the pressure of the leaking head just about to breech you without the satisfaction of actually following through, and that would have been enough to frustrate you into begging. However, his teasing around your clit had also grown in ferociousness, sending your hips desperately searching out his fingers, and it was more than enough to break you down.
"Please fuck me, John." you whispered.
"Sorry? Couldn't quite hear you." he smirked, and it pissed you off more than anything.
"Fuck me, John! Fuck me!" you demanded, voice slowly growing louder out of pure sexual frustration. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!"
The last word didn't properly land, stuttered by the way he suddenly slammed himself home again and nearly collapsed you completely, but you managed to brace yourself against the bed just as he began to rut into you with wild abandon. His heavy, warm balls slapped against your clit harshly, making you whine even sharper than before. Your own fingers fought their way between your thighs, rubbing tight and fast circles around your abused clit, and it made you quiver around him. The feeling made him growl harshly, and he actually nipped at the back of your shoulder.
"Where do you want it?" he asked.
Confused and partially distracted by your approaching orgasm, you didn't say anything at first, unsure of his meaning until he clarified a stroke or two later.
"Where do you want me to cum, baby?"
You didn't have the brain power to truly string together a sentence, but you did, shockingly, have just enough control to say exactly what he needed to hear to lose himself in you completely:
"Do it inside." you sighed, and it's all he'd needed to hear before absolutely exploding, gripping at you with bruising force and jamming his cock as deep as physically possible inside you. Like the night before, you could taste him filling you up, an electric, almost acidic tang lining the back of your throat as you felt your warm cunt overflow down your thigh.
Again, the two of you clung tightly to one another in the aftershocks, but this time felt different; there were no rivals, no threats to what you had here, only the presence of love and admiration and the pure, unadulterated desire to express those emotions physically. John pretty much immediately collapsed down beside you, his throbbing, softening cock still buried inside you as he held you flush against him, running his tongue along your sweaty, bruised throat and humming.
"Man, you smell sexy like this, all full of me." he murmured, teeth playing along your earlobe. "Y'know, Garvey's lucky his nose isn't as sensitive as mine. I'd take you out there and walk you by him a dozen times just to make a point."
"Oh, John. Don't mention it. It was so embarrassing for everybody involved. He really thought that little chin lift was going to seal the deal and I have to live with the knowledge of that for the rest of my life!" you replied, playfully clamping your thighs on his hand as your cheeks heated.
The smile he flashed you was a warm one, content and confident in a way you didn't often see from the older man. You weren't sure you'd ever known him to be this...gratified.
"I love you, sunshine."
"I love you, too, John." you smiled, settling back against his chest to resume the lazy morning you'd been sharing together before the distraction. Things were quiet again, the only real sound the breeze in the trees, shaking and dancing together joyously as they shaded your perfect hideaway.
#holy christ how did this get so long#john hancock#john hancock fo4#hancock fo4#john hancock smut#hancock x reader#john mcdonough#submission
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based off the sukuna comforting fic you wrote can you write one where another concubine hit reader and sukuna comforts us type of thing thank you
when another concubine lays their hands on you
Tags-mentions of death,human reader
The soft sound of your quiet whimpering echoed in the vast chamber, a sound so faint it should have been lost in the massive space.
But Sukuna heard everything. From across the room, his sharp ears picked up the broken breaths you were trying to hide, the subtle tremor in your voice that betrayed your attempts to stay quiet.
He didn’t like the sound.
With an irritated huff, Sukuna stood up, his four arms flexing as he strode through the dimly lit corridors of the temple.
The other concubines scattered out of his way, their heads bowed, knowing better than to make eye contact when he was in this kind of mood.
It didn’t take him long to find you, curled up in one of the darker corners of the temple, your face buried in your knees as you tried to muffle your sobs. The sight was pitiful—weak even—and it made Sukuna’s teeth grind in annoyance.
He crossed his arms, looming over you with a displeased scowl on his face. “What the hell is this?” he asked, his voice sharp, cutting through your quiet tears. “Why are you crying?”
You flinched at his voice but you didn’t answer immediately. You couldn’t. Not with the lump in your throat, not with the fear gnawing at you. Because you knew if you told him the truth, it would only make things worse. Sukuna didn’t tolerate anyone touching what was his and right now, you were the most favored among his concubines.
“I don’t… I don’t want to say” you whispered, your voice trembling as you glanced up at him. His eyes narrowed at your hesitation, clearly unamused by your answer.
“Don’t want to say?” Sukuna repeated, a dangerous edge to his voice. He crouched down, his towering form still casting a shadow over you as one of his hands grabbed your chin, forcing your gaze to meet his. “Why not? You afraid I’ll get mad?”
You bit your lip, nodding slightly, your eyes wide with fear. Sukuna’s gaze darkened, and his grip tightened just enough to make you wince. “Spit it out” he growled, his patience wearing thin. “What happened?”
You hesitated for a moment longer, your heart pounding in your chest. But when Sukuna’s crimson eyes bore into yours, the weight of his presence suffocating, you finally gave in. “It was… one of the other concubines” you whispered, barely audible. “She… hit me.”
The words hung in the air for a moment and you could feel the shift in Sukuna’s aura almost immediately. The temperature in the room seemed to drop and his expression darkened dangerously, his eyes narrowing with cold fury.
“Which one?” he asked, his voice low, deceptively calm. Too calm.
Your breath hitched in your throat as you looked away, terrified of what he might do. “Please, Sukuna… it doesn’t matter. I don’t want you to—”
“Which. One?” Sukuna repeated, each word dripping with menace. His hand on your chin tightened but the other three arms remained unnervingly still, as if waiting for your answer before they sprang into action.
You swallowed, shaking your head. “I don’t want to say… You’ll kill her. I know you will.”
Sukuna’s lips curled into a sneer, his patience with you running thin. “And why shouldn’t I? Someone dared to lay a hand on what’s mine. That’s a death sentence.” His tone was cold, ruthless, as if the decision had already been made in his mind.
Tears welled up in your eyes again, and you tried to pull away but Sukuna’s grip held firm. “Please” you whispered, your voice breaking. “I don’t want anyone else to die because of me.”
He let out a frustrated sigh, his grip softening just a fraction but his anger was still palpable. Sukuna didn’t understand this weakness you were showing. He couldn’t fathom why you were so afraid to let him deal with the situation the way he always did—with blood.
“I swear, you’re such a nuisance sometimes” he muttered but there was an odd gentleness in the way his other hand cupped the side of your face, brushing away the tears that spilled from your eyes. “Crying over this? Pathetic.”
His words stung but there was something about the way he held you, something uncharacteristically careful in his movements, that made you lean into his touch despite everything. Sukuna was cruel, but in moments like this, when his possessiveness over you outweighed his rage, there was a twisted form of comfort in his presence.
“Stop crying” he muttered, his voice still rough but softer than before. “I’ll handle it. You don’t need to worry about it.”
But you knew what that meant. He wasn’t just going to “handle it.” He was going to kill her.
Your tears slowed and Sukuna’s hand continued to brush along your cheek, his attempt at comforting you clumsy and awkward, as if he didn’t know how to be gentle but he was trying—for you. “I’m not mad at you” he added, almost as if it was an afterthought. “You don’t need to be scared.”
You nodded weakly but the fear still gnawed at you, the weight of knowing that your words had sealed another’s fate. Sukuna’s eyes gleamed with a dark promise and though he wasn’t saying it, you knew he wouldn’t let this go.
“I’ll ask one more time” Sukuna said, his voice low and dangerous. “Which concubine did it?”
You hesitated for a long moment, your heart pounding in your chest but finally, you whispered her name. Sukuna’s eyes flashed with an intensity that made your stomach drop, and without another word, he stood up, pulling you to your feet with him.
“Stay here” he ordered, his voice cold. “I’ll be back.”
You watched him leave, a sinking feeling in your chest as you knew what was about to happen. Minutes passed—agonizing, tense minutes—until the distant sound of screaming echoed through the temple.
And then, silence.
Sukuna returned shortly after, his clothes untouched by blood, but the darkness in his eyes was unmistakable. Without saying a word, he pulled you into his arms, his grip firm but not painful. His four hands held you close, almost as if to reassure you that you were safe now.
“It’s done” he muttered, his voice quiet. “No one will touch you again.”
The weight of his words settled over you, but despite the horror of what had just happened, there was a strange sense of security in Sukuna’s presence. His possessiveness, though brutal, was his way of showing that he cared—in his own twisted, ruthless way.
And for now, that was enough.
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