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punkshort · 23 days ago

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Just This Once

Pairing: dbf!joel miller x f!reader

Summary: After yet another argument with your dad, his buddy across the street is there to help make you feel better.

Warnings: no outbreak, language, smut (18+ MDNI), age gap, hurt/comfort, reader's mom is dead, reader has hair (length unspecified), size kink, unprotected piv sex, dirty talk

WC: 5.8K

"Your mama didn't leave all that money in her will for you to piss it away on some bullshit degree!"

Your father's hurtful words ring loudly in your ears on a loop when you storm outside, screen door slamming shut behind you.

"Asshole," you hiss under your breath repeatedly. You clench your fists tightly at your sides, blunt nails digging into your palms and leaving angry little marks in your skin. Gravel crunches under your sneakers, each heavy footstep slicing through the peaceful quiet of night as you head towards the road, where your car is parked. Unfurling one hand, you reach into your purse for your car keys only to drop them in your haste. Metal skitters across asphalt and you curse again before bending to pick them up.

"The hell you doin' makin' all that racket?"

You snap your head up and peer into the darkness across the street. You recognize the voice but don't see the man - Joel Miller.

Joel has lived in the house across the street ever since your family moved to this side of town when you were a teenager. He mostly keeps to himself but throughout the years, he and your father grew pretty close. Whenever one of them needed help moving furniture or working on their trucks, they were there for each other. He was there mowing his lawn when you were taking pictures for your first formal dance. You'd see him and his daughter, Sarah, at every birthday party throughout the years. He sat next to your dad on your front porch wearing matching scowls the night your high school boyfriend brought you home from your very first date. And he was there on the day of your mother's funeral, wearing a black suit and slicked back, wavy hair with his hands clasped dutifully at his waist, looking stoic and forlorn.

"J- uh - Mr. Miller?"

You hear ice rattling in a glass and your eyes focus on his front porch, barely making out his broad shadow as he sips his whiskey.

"You havin' a tough night?" he asks. You huff and scoop up your keys before standing.

"Just another joyous dinner with my dad."

You note his silence and you cringe. What were you thinking? Of course he's not going to want to hear you speak badly about your father. So you clear your throat and try again.

"I'm just kidding-"

"You want a drink?"

Your eyes began to adjust to the darkness. He's sitting in one of his two adirondack chairs with a bottle of whiskey on the table in between. He picks the bottle up by the neck, swirling it around so you could see it. Your nose wrinkles at the thought of drinking whiskey but you find your feet moving in the direction of his house anyway. As you climb the stairs to his porch, he catches your eye and cocks an eyebrow.

"You're old enough to drink now, right?"

You roll your eyes and collapse into the chair next to him.

"Been old enough for a few years now," you mumble.

He doesn't have a spare glass outside so he tips back what's left of his drink before pouring some more and sliding it across the table for you.

"That's right. You gotta be... what? Twenty-three now?"

You shake your head and wince when the liquid passes your lips, leaving a trail of fire all the way down your throat.

"Almost twenty-six."

"Shit," he mutters to himself. He sighs and relaxes back into his chair, eyes drifting across the street to your father's house, then you do the same. The longer you sit in silence, the more your shoulders loosen up. That is, until Joel speaks.

"What had you all worked up?"

You roll your eyes and reach for the glass again, then decide against it. One sip is enough.

"Same fight we always have," you grumble. You stare at the windows, curtains pulled tight but not tight enough to hide the flicker of blue light from the television in the living room. Based on the time, you guess your dad is watching sports highlights. Or the news.

"'N what's that?" he asks.

"College," you say simply. Joel twists his head to look at you.

"College?" he repeats. "Thought you dropped out."

"I did," you tell him a little harsher than you intend. "But only because I didn't want to go to school for economics. Or nursing. Or biology. Those are degrees he deems worthy of the money my mom left me, but I don't want to do any of that."

"What do you wanna do, then?" he asks gently. You turn to meet his dark gaze and you're struck by how thoughtful and attentive he looks.

"Well," you begin, taking a deep breath, "I really love photography. So I want to go for my fine arts degree, but my dad thinks it's a waste."

You brace yourself for the reaction you're used to getting: a snort of disbelief, a cruel laugh, a shake of a head. But to your surprise, Joel smiles.

"I think that suits you."

You give him an incredulous look before jokingly pointing at the bottle. "How much have you had to drink?"

He laughs now, a deep sound that rumbles from his broad chest and makes the wrinkles next to his eyes and mouth deepen when his smile widens.

"Just had the one," he answers before leaning forward a bit in his chair. "I say it suits you 'cause for as long as I can remember, I saw you with a camera in your hand, takin' pictures of just 'bout anythin' you found worthwhile."

"You remember that?" you ask softly. Joel heard the awe in your voice and he tries to act nonchalant, giving you a casual shrug and a nervous scratch of his greying beard before replying.

"Yeah. Sure I do. Had Sarah beggin' me for a fancy camera two Christmases in a row," he says. You catch the way his eyes soften at the thought of his daughter and it makes you smile.

You sigh after a minute of silence. "Why can't my dad see it?"

Joel shrugs again. "It's different when it's your own kid," he explains. "You want somethin' steady. Somethin' practical, so you don't gotta worry 'bout 'em."

You hum under your breath and let your eyes drift back across the street, where the television was now turned off and your father's bedroom window glowed yellow. He must be getting ready for bed.

"How's Sarah doing, anyway?"

"She's great," he answers. "Studyin' abroad in Spain for the semester. Miss her like fuckin' crazy, though. Place is real lonely."

When you tilt your head to look at Joel again, you're surprised to find him already gazing at you, but something about it feels different. Like the air is suddenly charged.

You open your mouth to say something but when his eyes drop to your parted lips, the words die on your tongue.

Then, as if he noticed the shift as well, he blinks and looks away, clearing his throat.

You should have taken it as your cue to go. It's late and you still have to drive back to your apartment downtown, but something keeps you planted in his chair. Something that tugs at you, a curiosity that grows somewhere in the back of your head.

Something that wishes he would look at you like that again.

"No lady in your life to keep you company?" you ask boldly.

He cracks a small smile and shakes his head. "Nah. Hard startin' over at this age."

Your chest aches a little when you see the brief look of sadness cross his face, which he quickly shakes off.

"How 'bout you?" he asks, and you feel your heart skip a beat. He locks eyes with you again. "You got a guy you're lookin' to have struck with the fear of god by me 'n your old man?"

Joel smirks at his joke and you could politely laugh and answer, but instead you keep your gaze fixed and without a flicker of humor, you murmur, "Nope. I am very unattached at the moment."

His smile falters and across the street, the light in your dad's bedroom turns off. Your tongue shoots out to quickly lick your lips and you aren't sure what burns more: the remnants of whiskey or the heat from Joel's stare.

He looks like he's debating on how to answer. Similar to yourself, he's sensing something unexpected building, something you are both trying to tread around lightly. Finally, the devil on his shoulder wins the fight.

"Find that hard to believe."

The air feels paper thin. Every inhale seems to make you feel dizzier, but you know it isn't the air - it's him.

"Oh?" you breathe.

He nods, looking more determined now. Confident. You feel your cheeks grow hot and you're grateful for the cover of night. Fortunately, his intense gaze drops to the table between you, giving you a second to gather yourself. But he really does only give you a second because he asks, "Didn't care for the whiskey?"

You shake your head. "Not much of a whiskey girl."

"You wanna come inside? I can get you somethin' else."

Come inside. Your heart beats fast and your legs shake from how hard you're pressing them together. Is he just being polite or is he asking what you think he's asking?

And if he is asking what you think he's asking... is that something you want?

Joel's a good looking guy, especially for his age, but you never thought about him like that before. But tonight, spending time one on one, you are privy to a different side of him. One that listens to you and apparently pays attention to your interests. It has you seeing him in a completely different light.

"Yeah," you whisper. Your voice sounds a little thicker than you expect and it has him smiling as he stands. He picks up the glass and the bottle, then nods towards his front door. You swallow, force yourself to your feet, and follow him inside.

It looks different than you remember, although in reality, it probably had hardly changed a bit. Same old carpet, same couch, same television... It wasn't so much the house, but the reason you were there that made it feel strange. You weren't there to visit Sarah or come scoop up your dad when he was drinking too much watching some football game with Joel. You're there for something else, and more importantly, you're there alone for the very first time.

"What can I get you?"

"Hmm?" You swivel around to face him, hoping your nerves weren't showing now that the soft glow from his kitchen lights illuminated your face.

He gives you a knowing smirk and points to his fridge. "To drink?"

"Oh," you say, "uh, just water."

Joel frowns. "You sure? I got beer, tequila, and some fruity shit in a can that Sarah left."

You're tempted to take something stronger but ultimately shake your head. He pulls a glass from his cabinet and fills it with chilled water from a pitcher in his fridge while your eyes dart around the room. You smile to yourself. The place is clean but there were certainly signs a bachelor lives there. There's a calendar on the wall that's a month behind, a dirty skillet in the sink, and coffee grounds scattered on the counter next to the canister.

"Here," he says, handing you the cold glass. You take it and bring it to your lips, watching as he pours himself a small splash of whiskey. He stares down at the brown liquid, contemplative, like he was struggling to make a decision. Then, as if he found his answer, he tosses the drink back in one go and nods before catching your eye again.

"Am I-"

Joel cuts himself off with a dry laugh. His palm swipes over his mouth nervously before trying again.

"Am I, uh, readin' things wrong? Or is there somethin' goin' on here?"

Your heart rate spikes at his forward question but you give him credit - he's putting the choice entirely on you. He's giving you an out. However, you swallow thickly and shake your head.

"No," you all but whisper. "You're not wrong."

You shakily place your glass on the counter next to you, knowing full well you are about to cross a very dangerous line, but the utter excitement swirling in your stomach and the arousal pulling between your legs has you ignoring all of the potential consequences of your decision.

Joel stares at you in shock from his place next to the sink, as if he can't quite believe his ears.

"You're shittin' me, right?"

His voice is laced with so much disbelief that it has you feeling kind of high, so you smirk and take a few steps forward, hoping you're coming off as assertive. You don't really blame him for being surprised. Hell, you even surprised yourself tonight, but something told you that you wouldn't regret your choice.

"No," you reply slowly, and this time you allow your gaze to travel down his chiseled jaw and across the broad expanse of his chest, making sure there was no mistaking your attraction for him before locking eyes again. "Unless... do you want me to go?"

Joel's eyes flicker nervously towards the front of the house and you wonder if he's thinking about you leaving or what your father would think if you stayed.

You get your answer soon enough.

"No," he says firmly. And in one long stride he closes the distance between you, wraps one arm around your middle, and tugs you forward while pressing his lips hungrily against yours.

It steals your breath at first, the surprising softness of his lips combined with the burning remains of whiskey on his tongue. It's so much better than you expected, too. He's gentle in the way he holds you and guides you backwards, yet there is no mistaking his eagerness when his tongue tangles with yours. The coarse hairs from his beard burn your chin in the most delicious way and you wonder when this is all over, if you still feel that tingle every now and then as a reminder.

Every backwards step towards his living room has the heat flaring hotter between your thighs. Your fingers claw at his shoulders, searching for stability, for something to keep you on this planet because you swear if you let go, you would just float away. You have no idea what's come over you, but you can't remember ever wanting somebody this badly before.

Your legs collide with the couch and you're both so lost in tasting one another that you stumble a bit before clumsily collapsing onto the cushion. Without breaking the kiss, you throw your leg over his lap. Your hands drift up to his thick, wavy hair and his find a home over your ass, fingers plucking uselessly at the denim shorts you had on.

The only sounds that fill the room are the ticking from the clock on the mantle, your shared heavy breaths, and the creaking from the leather couch underneath your knees. That is, until you roll your hips forward, grinding down on his lap. Joel lets out a deep groan and you swear you feel a shudder shoot through his whole body.

"Christ," he rasps, pulling away so he can catch his breath. You smile as you trail kisses down his neck, pleased with how wrecked he sounded already. His hands knead the flesh of your ass as you make your way down. Your tongue dips into the hollow at the base of his throat, licking up the dried sweat and moaning at the taste when he asks, "Are you sure 'bout this?"

He sounds conflicted, like the last thing on earth he wants to do is stop, but his moral compass got the better of him. You unlatch yourself from his neck and sit up straight, hips slowly grinding down on his lap as you gaze down at him with heavy lidded eyes.

"I'm sure," you tell him, voice firm and certain. You feel the corner of your mouth curl when his swollen lips part to release a soft noise when your clothed center rubs along his cock, stiff and straining in his jeans.

"Okay," he whispers, messy curls flopping forward when his chin drops to watch you move. "Just this once."

A thrill shoots through you, electrifying your limbs and jump starting your heart.

Your head falls to capture his lips in one more wet kiss before you push yourself off the couch to stand. Joel remains seated with his legs spread wide and he watches with his chest heaving as you unbutton your denim shorts, letting them playfully fall to the carpeted floor.

You're feeling pretty good. Your confidence is through the roof at the way Joel's jaw drops a little when you slide your panties down your legs, but it was short lived.

You lean forward to help him with the zipper on his jeans and his hips lift so he can shove the fabric down, just to his knees, apparently too eager to rid himself of them entirely. You allow him the honor of pushing down the band of his boxers and your breath gets caught in your throat when you see the size of him for the first time.

Just like that, your confidence washes away and your eyes widen. You think you can handle his length but it's his girth that gives you pause.

It's as if your composure transfers right to Joel because he clocks your reaction and he smirks with a smug look on his face. His fist wraps tightly around his cock when he says, "It's alright, you can take it. We'll go slow."

"Okay," you say softly. You straddle his lap again, knees sinking into the soft leather, as you both stare down at his leaking shaft between your bodies. Slowly, you rock your hips, letting him slide between your folds and you gasp when the tip of his cock catches on your clit with every pass.

His hands rest on your waist, gently helping you move back and forth while he watches in awe as you cover him with your slick. Your eyes flutter closed and you sink your teeth into your lower lip, breathing in deep through your nose and feeling your muscles relax. Every time he slips through your folds, the ache in your cunt grows tighter.

"Fuck, J- uh, Mr. M-"

Your hips still and you open your eyes as the realization hits you both at the same time that you have never called him by his first name before. It should have filled you with shame or at least some guilt, but instead you feel yourself dripping even more sticky arousal onto his skin. Joel feels it and chuckles.

"Think we're past formalities, darlin'."

Your eyes flash in the darkness of his living room and you give him a sly grin.

"Yeah, guess so," you breathe, hips resuming their slow pace up and down the underside of his cock. "Unless you're into that sort of thing..."

Joel growls and his hands dig into your waist, moving you a little faster on his lap.

"Way you're soakin' me, I'd say you're the one who's got a thing."

You laugh breathlessly and circle your arms around the back of his neck, pulling his mouth closer, needing to feel his lips on your skin once again.

"Maybe I do," you admit, mostly joking when you lean in to graze your lips against his ear to give it a try. "I want you to fuck me, Mr. Miller."

Joel's teeth find your shoulder and he gives you a playful nip, but other than that, he remains stoic. So, you try again.

"Think I'll be sore tomorrow, Mr. Miller?" you prod. His dick twitches between your legs and his breathing stalls, but still, he says nothing.

You briefly think you might be crossing a line, but you go for it anyway when you whisper, "When you see my dad tomorrow, are you gonna be thinking about this, Mr. Mill-"

Joel tosses his head back so he can grab your jaw, cutting you off with his thumb and forefinger digging into the soft flesh of your cheeks. His eyes look fiery and his teeth grind together as he stares daggers at you. For a second, you think you fucked up, but then he says, "You gonna run your mouth all night or are you gonna sit on my cock?"

A wide smile breaks across your face but it's restricted by his firm grip on your jaw. You shuffle onto your knees, raising your hips in the air so you could line him up at your entrance, but then he releases your chin and stops you.

"Wait," he murmurs, then two fingers slide through your pussy, collecting your arousal and making you gasp at the contact. Your eyes lock and he pops both fingers in his mouth with a groan. His eyelids droop closed for a moment as he savors your taste, the sight causing your mouth to go dry and your knees to feel weak.

"C'mere," he rasps, hand curling around the back of your neck and pulling you down. Your mouths collide and his tongue slips easily past your lips, offering you a taste of yourself while his other hand holds himself steady and nudges at your opening.

Slowly, you begin to sink down. The stretch gives you pause almost immediately and you whimper into his mouth. With one hand still cupping the back of your head, he breaks the kiss but presses your foreheads together as you both fight for air.

"'S okay, take your time," he says, but his voice is strained and his words are slurring, already feeling drunk off you.

You nod and try to take more. Another inch disappears inside you and your thighs tremble as you focus on breathing.

"You're so big," you whine when you take another inch. A shaky breath slips past his lips and his hand tightens around the back of your neck.

"Easy," he warns when you try to go too fast. You cry out softly and pause again, frustrated that you can't take him faster. Joel senses it and presses a kiss against your lips.

"Don't rush," he says, "wanna really feel you."

Just this once. You suppose since this wasn't going to happen again, you should make it count. Go slow, like he says.

"Touch me," you whisper, your nose brushing gently alongside his. Your eyes close and your fingers curl into the tense muscles of his back, then you sigh with relief when his thumb grazes your clit.

"Like that?" he asks, swirling circles over your bundle of nerves. You nod.

His touch softens you and you feel your muscles stretching and relaxing as you press further down. It's when you are nearly seated in his lap that his lips feverishly seek out yours once again, slotting together and muffling your moans when your hips grow flush with his.

"Y-you-" he stammers against your lips as you both work on adjusting to the feeling of your cunt wrapped snugly around his sizable length. He swallows and tries again. "So good, darlin'. S-so tight, fuck-" he groans, then flexes his hips, pushing himself as deep as he can possibly go. You wince and cry out, but he shushes you. "'S alright," he pants, "I got you. Just... just stay still a second, okay?"

You nod, mind a blur as he wraps his arms around your middle and buries his face in the crook of your neck. He sighs and slowly flexes his hips again, but it doesn't hurt the second time. You rest your cheek on the side of his head and close your eyes, allowing him to do whatever it is he wants to do.

His hands roam greedily around your body, thick fingers stretching to touch as much of you as possible. You feel his heart hammering in his chest and you think yours might be beating in rhythm with his, but you can't be certain because all your focus is drawn to the fullness between your legs and the soft noises emanating from the man underneath you.

"Talk to me," you whisper. His hands still and you hear him swallow.

"Say my name."

You don't process it at first, mind still slow and foggy like you were drunk, but you only had one sip of whiskey. Then, you realize what he wanted.

"Joel."

He groans, the vibrations transferring from his mouth to your chest. One of his hands slides up your thin shirt and pushes up your bra to cup your breast. "Again."

You moan his name and tip your head back, curling your spine so you push more of your chest into his palm. Two fingers pinch and roll your nipple and you gasp, then whisper his name again.

Just when you think you can't take much more and you will have to resort to begging, Joel melts into the couch and gazes up at you with the softest pair of eyes. He looks like a completely different man: his face is relaxed and he stares at you like you're the only two people on earth. Like you weren't his friend's daughter and there wasn't anything wrong with what you were doing. He looks at you like he's just a man and you're just a woman who holds the secrets of the universe in her hands.

He doesn't ask you to move, but he doesn't stop you when you slowly begin to rock your hips forward, either. The first few passes are tough. The stretch of his cock sliding in and out of you, even just a little bit, is an adjustment. But the more you move, the easier it becomes, and all the while Joel has his eyes pinned on you. He sees the way you screw your face up when the pressure is too much, then the way your brows relax and your breath evens out.

"How's it feel?" he asks when it becomes clear you are no longer in discomfort. You roll your hips steadily and link your arms around his neck.

"Good," you say truthfully, "so deep, and so full."

"Yeah?" he asks. "Anyone ever been this deep?" He punctuates his question with a snap of his hips and your mouth falls open. You find it difficult to answer when he's thrusting upwards, the power behind it already forming a dull ache somewhere deep inside you, so he asks again.

"No," you whisper.

"Yeah, that's right," he grumbles. He drops his gaze to watch you bounce on his lap, to watch the way your cunt spreads to accommodate him. Both his hands curl around the tops of your thighs as you move, squeezing your muscles like he needed to confirm you were real before sliding his palms up to rest on the crease of your hips.

You have no idea how you'll ever be satisfied with another man ever again now that you've felt what it's like to have Joel split you open and chase away every stressful, lingering thought from your brain. Just this once, just this once, just-

"More," you gasp, thighs tight and aching from supporting your weight. His fingers press into your skin and he begins to guide you, moving you up and down as he stares deep into your eyes.

"So soft," he murmurs. Your skin prickles at the wonder in his voice. "Everythin' 'bout you is so warm 'n soft. Gonna drive me fuckin' crazy, darlin'."

You move a little faster and you wish you had the foresight to pull his shirt off earlier. You want to see him - all of him - so you drop your hands to the hem of his shirt and slide them under it, instead. His breath sharpens when your palms run over the soft swell of his stomach, fingers mapping every inch of his skin and piecing together what he must look like from touch alone. Then, your hand sweeps over his heart. You feel the rapid thump right there, right under the pads of your fingers, and his dark brown eyes find yours. They look a little wild, a little wrecked, but mostly they look at you with adoration while you continue to ride him with every ounce of strength you have.

His breath grows ragged, just like yours. You easily drop yourself down onto his lap over and over, body now fully relaxed and open and accustomed to his size. He grunts each time his cock disappears inside you and his jaw starts to tighten when he meets you, thrust for thrust.

"Look at you," he breathes, "takin' me so well. Perfect little cunt, fuck-"

Your eyelids flutter and your mouth drops open, his filthy words pushing you closer and closer to your peak. You can feel the heat pooling low at the base of your spine and your breathing is reduced to sharp gasps.

His hands push and pull your body up and down - fast - and it has your fingers digging into his chest for balance underneath his shirt.

"Shit... feels so good," he moans, jaw slack and eyes glassy as he watches you whine and writhe in his lap. Sweat dots your forehead and you feel that familiar crest swelling deep inside.

"Joel-" you pant, voice cracked and hoarse. He blinks and catches the way your hips stutter. His hands slide up your back and press you forward, into his chest, and you tiredly slump against his shoulder.

"I got you," he murmurs before harshly snapping his hips. You moan his name and squeeze your eyes shut, the new angle stealing your breath and making your thighs shake. A hand presses on the base of your spine, pushing you down and holding you still while he fucks up into you. Each bruising thrust has you whimpering into his neck but you're so fucking close, you just sit there and take it until the dam breaks and you practically scream out his name, your voice echoing off the walls in the dark, otherwise silent house.

He's saying something but your ears are ringing too loudly and your blood is pumping too fast for you to make it out. His hand is rubbing soothing circles on your back and his voice is soft and calming and it's exactly what you need.

The ache between your legs forms into a burn from how hard he fucks you, chasing his own high now that he knew you were taken care of. Your lips press weak kisses against his throat. You feel the vibrations from his grunts and the salty taste of his skin when you whisper inside before he can even ask.

"Yeah? Want me to fill up this pretty little pussy?"

His voice is thick and rough. You peel your eyes open and tip your head so you can watch his face contort and his mouth fall open. He breathes sharply when his cock swells inside you and you smile at the instant relief painted across his face. His palm still flattens against your lower back, holding you in place as he pumps you full of his release. Then you feel his muscles relax and his grip around you loosens with a deep sigh.

"Christ," he murmurs after a long stretch of silence. You giggle and he grins before his hand cups your jaw and pulls you up for a kiss. It's so tender that it leaves you breathless and you hardly even notice he's sliding out of you until a sharp pang deep inside reminds you and you whine.

"You did good," he says softly, still holding you close in his lap. "Feel alright?"

"Mhm," you nod with your lower lip pulled between your teeth. He gives you a lazy smile and pushes a stray piece of hair away from your face. Your heart lurches at the sweet gesture and you smile back.

A car slowly lumbers down the street, between Joel's and your father's houses. It draws your attention outside and you frown at how dark it is.

"What time is it?"

Joel sighs and squints at the mantle clock. "Almost one."

"Shit," you mutter, then go to stand. "I should get going."

"You can stay," he says quickly. You are in the middle of picking up your clothes from his floor and you pause to meet his eye. He shrugs. "I mean, if you wanna."

Place is real lonely. His words from earlier filter through your brain and you feel guilty when you shake your head.

"I ... I can't. My car - he'll see."

"Oh," Joel whispers, then nods like it's no big deal. Like he was just being nice with his offer and it didn't matter to him either way. But you saw the disappointment in his face before he dropped his chin to fix his pants and a sharp pang splits your chest.

He stands to adjust his pants and you excuse yourself to use his bathroom. After cleaning yourself up, you rifle through your purse for a pen but come up empty. Instead, you pull out a tube of lipstick and you grin when you scrawl your number on his mirror. You shove it back in your purse and fix your hair before descending the stairs to find him in the kitchen drinking a glass of water. He holds out your glass from earlier and you shake your head.

"I'm gonna head out then," you say.

"Alright."

He walks slowly behind you, holding open the door to the quiet night air when you turn to look at him one more time. You know it's a little risky, but it's late, your dad's house is dark, and you're quick. You stretch up on your tiptoes to give Joel one last, lingering kiss, then step backwards onto his porch.

"Thanks for tonight."

He laughs quietly and leans against the doorframe. "I should be thankin' you."

You don't say anything. You grin and take a few more steps backwards before swiveling around and jogging lightly down his steps. When you make it to your car, you resist the urge to look back to see if he's still watching you from his front door.

You smile to yourself as you drive down the empty street, the dull ache between your legs and the burn on your skin from his beard both pleasant reminders of your unexpected evening.

But later that night, when your phone pings with a text from an unknown number right as you're getting ready for bed, something tells you it will be more than just this once.

Part Two

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queenangella · 1 year ago

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my moms disappointed in me that I told my aunt to shut up and follow my grandmas schedule cause she tried to force dessert out so she could leave earlier but what is she gonna do? ignore me? did that already for two years. look mad at me? would be like n improvement from last years Christmas where she literally didn’t look at me once let alone talk to me

#actually was kinda different I just can’t stand when I say my opinion and other people are like ‘well I just won’t say anything anymore the #:)’#she was like ‘okay you can decide everything and I wont say anything anymore:)’ and I was like ‘yeah that’s right cause this is not your #fucking house so you don’t actually get to decide everything:) shut up:)’#no one fucking likes you and your cheap ass gifts and your mediocre grocery store bought snacks #now my moms like ok next time just be quiet and go along with her to keep the peace like bitch I will literally start a feud I don’t care #I should keep the peace?? bc if there’s be a feud people would side with me over her ten times over #you really think people will side with her when I’m the one who helped set everything up and made gourmet aperos and gave my grandma #something handcrafted to thank her for hosting us while she cant barely bother to show up at her own mom twice a year at Christmas and #easter?? bc she lives a whole two hours away?? bitch when I lived three countries over I saw my grandma more than you did #your husband wasn’t even allowed out of the house for his own dads funeral you think even he’s gonna side with you?? bitch #don’t wanna sound like a snob cause I really don’t care about cheap gifts or grocery story snacks but you have to realise she and her #husband are both doctors and rich and they have a nanny for their twenty year old kids who also cooks and cleans and they live right next to #two famous people and have a vacation house in portugal and also zero friends you really tell me she can’t do better than a five euro gift #for secret Santa when the decided on amount was twenty euros?

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genshinluvr · 2 months ago

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Marks of the Dragons

Pairings: Various Genshin Men x Isekai'd!Reader, Neuvillette x Isekai'd!Reader, Zhongli x Isekai'd!Reader, Zhongli x Isekai'd!Reader x Neuvillette

Summary: Zhongli and Neuvillette marked you— they marked you by biting you. What lead up to that situation? You went on a trip to Chenyu Vale with the Chief Justice of Fontaine and Funeral Consultant of Wangsheng Funeral Parlor.

Note: My work schedule has been very inconsistent that I wasn't able to work on anything :< This smut is probably awful since I haven't written smut in so long. Before anyone new asks, yes, Kinich, Sethos, and Ororon are officially in the harem! Since I unknowingly manifested both Zhongli and Neuvillette's banners have a rerun together, I had to write a smut with the two finest men in Genshin. This idea is partially from the unpublished Zhongli smut I had in mind two years ago, so I had to make it a thing for both Zhongli and Neuvillette >:3 MINORS, DO NOT INTERACT. Anyway, I don't post anywhere else but on Tumblr (Genshinluvr), Ko-Fi (also Genshinluvr/Aaliah_exo), and AO3 (Aaliah_exo).

Warning: Horribly written smut, anal, oral, double penetration, blowjobs, hair pulling, choking, Zhongli and Neuvillette have two dicks, biting, marking, maybe mating???

Word Count: 7.1k

Everyone is lounging in the living room, sitting close to the fireplace, taking in the heat and cozy atmosphere—except for you. There’s an empty spot beside every man in the room, hoping you’ll cuddle up beside them. You’re still in your bedroom, preparing for the hangout. It’s freezing in the abode, which surprises everyone because who knew it could become freezing in the teapot? Heck, it looks like it might even snow by the looks of it.

Scaramouche sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “What’s taking [Y/N] so long? We’ve been sitting here for twenty minutes, and they still haven’t left their bedroom.”

“Maybe they fell asleep?” Venti suggests, looking around the room.

The lights in the living room are off. The only source of light illuminating the dark room is the fireplace, casting a warm glow.

Kaeya yawns, stretching his arms before sprawling out on the couch, rubbing his eye with his knuckle. “If [Y/N] doesn’t come out of their room by the time the clock strikes eight, I’m going to fall asleep,” Kaeya mutters, leaning over to snatch the fluffy blanket from Diluc’s lap, earning a glare from the redhead.

Diluc sharply exhales from his nostrils, pinching the space between his eyebrows. “Why can’t you get your own blanket instead of taking other people’s belongings?” Diluc grumbles, reaching over to yank the blanket from Kaeya’s body.

Dainsleif rolls his eyes before getting up from his spot and heading towards the staircase. The men stop what they’re doing, watching the blond man walk up the stairs. “Since everyone is impatient, I’ll check on them myself.”

Upstairs in the estate, you stare at your reflection in the mirror, pulling up your turtleneck. You rarely wear turtlenecks, but since it’s freezing in the abode, you might as well wear one. You leave your bathroom and grab the nearest jacket. Your neck is aching, and it hurts each time you twist or tilt your head. You zip up your jacket, making sure the bandage is hidden beneath both your jacket and turtleneck.

You peek at your reflection in the full-length mirror, eyeing yourself from head to toe as you walk to your dresser for your fuzzy socks. You dig through the dresser, searching for the specific fuzzy sock you cherish (it kept your feet warm well because the men would complain about your feet being cold every time it brushed against their legs).

A gentle knock from your bedroom door pulls you out of your thoughts. You quickly put on your socks before rushing to answer the door. You take a deep breath and open the door, your heart thundering in your chest when you see Dainsleif in front of you.

You smile at the blond man. “Hey, Dainsleif! Sorry for taking so long. I was looking for a comfortable jacket to wear along with these fuzzy socks, " you say, looking down at your sock-clad feet.

Before Dainsleif can say anything, Childe pops up from the corner, placing a rough hand on Dainsleif’s shoulders, causing him to grunt and glare at the Harbinger. “You took your sweet time, snookums. Were you trying to look pretty for me?” Childe teases, winking at you.

You playfully roll your eyes, shaking your head, only to stop abruptly and let out a sharp breath. Dainsleif and Childe look at you worriedly, scanning you from head to toe for any injuries. You clear your throat, plastering a fake smile on your face.

“You two have nothing to worry about, I promise. I’m done getting dressed, and we can all go downstairs now. Let’s go before the others become restless,” you say, stepping out of your bedroom and walking past Dainsleif and Childe.

As you’re descending the stairs, both Childe and Dainsleif trade looks with one another before following behind you. Once the three of you reach the living room, everyone sighs in relief and gestures for you to sit beside them. You raise your eyebrows, crossing your arms over your chest.

“I’m not sure if I can sit with every one of you at the same time.” You say, waddling farther into the living room. “Who am I sitting with first?” You ask, sitting on the armrest where Dottore is seated.

Dottore chuckles, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you onto his lap. “It looks like you subconsciously made your decision already, kitten. The others can wait.” He states, smirking at the other men in the room.

Itto shoots up from his spot. “Hey, that’s not fair!”

Dottore shrugs, shooting a shit-eating grin in Itto’s direction before continuing to have you wrapped up in his arms. When Itto opens his mouth to protest once more, Thoma pats his shoulders and shakes his head as if he’s telling Itto to let it slide for now. Itto grumbles and slumps in his seat, hugging the plush onikabuto to his chest with a pout.

Ayato clears his throat. “How about this? Each of us gets to have our turn with [Y/N] for twenty minutes,” Ayato suggests.

Ororon sighs, resting his head on the armrest. “There’s over thirty of us in the room. Do you really think we’ll be sitting here for hours just to have our turn to snuggle with [Y/N]?” Ororon grumbles, narrowing his eyes at Dottore.

Sitting near the fireplace, Sethos props his feet on the ottoman and chuckles. “Heck, if that means I get my chance to snuggle with my cuddle bug, I don’t mind waiting for my turn,” Sethos says, winking at you.

Heat rushes to your cheeks as you sink farther against Dottore’s chest. Dottore’s chuckle rings in your ears, causing your face to feel even hotter. Kinich sighs, leaning back against the sofa while Ajaw nags his ears off about who knows what. Kinich briefly glances at you before something catches his attention. Kinich suddenly sits up straight, leans forward, and squints at you for a moment.

You can’t help but squirm under his gaze, feeling slightly awkward now that the others are starting to realize what Kinich is doing. Everyone’s eyes are all on you, trying to see what Kinich is staring at aside from you.

You awkwardly clear your throat. “Is there something on my face?” You mutter, subconsciously reaching up to your face, feeling around for anything. Aside from the skincare products Xiao and Zhongli bought for you a few days ago while in Liyue, you feel nothing.

“Are you alright by any chance?” Kinich asks, now standing in front of you and Dottore.

You blink up at Kinich owlishly before nodding your head. “Yeah, I’m okay! W-Why did you ask?”

Kinich continues to scrutinize you, his eyes scanning you from head to toe— looking at the smallest details on you. Kinich reaches forward and caresses your face in his hands, catching you off guard. You gulp, internally praying that he doesn’t notice the bandaids hidden beneath your turtleneck.

Kinich tilts your head up and turns your head from side to side while inspecting every little thing about you. Your heart continues to race in your chest, and your face gets hotter and hotter by the minute. Due to the excessive movement, the collar of your jacket and turtleneck conveniently slide down, making the bandages visible to everyone.

“What happened to your neck?” Thoma gasps as people start to gather around you.

Kinich lets go of your head and takes a step back when Capitano brushes him to the side. Capitano kneels before you, caressing your face with one hand while unzipping your jacket with the other. Dottore hooks his finger underneath the collar of your turtleneck and pulls it down, revealing more of the bandage wrapped around your neck.

Baizhu furrows his eyebrows, inspecting the bandage. Capitano moves to the side so Baizhu can take a closer look at your supposed “injury.” You nervously peek from Baizhu’s shoulders, locking eyes with Zhongli and Neuvillette. The two men stand side by side, not saying a word. Are they going to let you handle this situation alone!? How are they so calm when you’re internally panicking?!

Baizhu pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs softly. “[Y/N], sweetheart, if you’re injured, you do not need to hide it from any of us— especially me. Your wounds could get infected if they’re not treated properly,” Baizhu chides, sitting at the edge of the seat beside Dottore while eyeing your bandaged neck.

“I’ll remove the bandages so Dr. Baizhu can properly treat your injury,” Capitano says, reaching for the corner of the peachy-beige bandage, ready to peel it off when you suddenly grab his wrist, stopping him.

You shake your head, eyes wide. “You don’t have to! I’m fine, I promise!” You squeak.

Pierro crosses his arms over his chest, scrutinizing you. “If you’re fine, then you would be okay with us taking the bandage off to inspect the wound,” Pierro says gruffly.

You swallow the lump in your throat, hesitantly releasing Capitano’s wrists and letting your hands fall onto your lap. Capitano proceeds to peel off the bandage, only to reveal another layer beneath. Capitano pauses and looks at you, not saying anything.

Xiao huffs. “If you were truly okay, then you wouldn’t need to have more than one layer of bandaid around your neck,” Xiao grumbles, crossing his arms over his chest.

Capitano continues where he left off, gently removing the bandage from your neck. You squeeze your eyes shut, knowing you will not be able to handle the other’s reaction to the marks on your neck. Once the bandage slowly reveals what’s underneath it, you hear sharp gasps from the men in the room.

Kaveh pushes Capitano out of the way while muttering an apology before ripping the bandage off completely, revealing two bite marks on each side of your neck. Kaveh gasps in horror, his eyes bugging out of his head.

“What kind of monster did this to you!?” Kaveh screams, cupping your cheeks in his hands as he forces you to look at him in the eyes.

Al Haitham sighs, pinching the space between his eyebrows while shaking his head. “For once, can you relax?” Al Haitham mutters, glaring at the blond architect.

Kaveh ignores Al Haitham’s comment as he continues to examine the bite marks on your neck. Kaveh gently brushes the marks on your neck, causing you to wince and softly hiss at the contact. Kaveh looks at Baizhu, giving him a pleading look.

Pantalone adjusts his glasses on the bridge of his nose. “I’m no doctor, but the bite marks look fresh. It looks irritated,” Pantalone mutters, stroking his chin.

“Who did this to you?” Tighnari asks.

You swallow the lump in your throat, heat rushing to your cheeks as you try to muster up an excuse. Surely, if the others knew who did this to you, they wouldn’t be too upset, would they? How are you supposed to explain this to the others when the perpetrators don’t look apologetic in the slightest? Heck, they look smug that the others found out about the bite marks on your neck.

“Those look like deep puncture holes. I don’t believe normal human teeth could do this,” Cyno mutters, pulling you out of your thoughts.

Gorou’s eyes widen as he nods. “You’re right! There’s no way any of us could have inflicted this type of… injury on [Y/N]!”

Heizou’s eyes light up as he walks toward you, his eyes remaining on your neck. “If you look closely, the teeth marks aren’t the same. One bite is larger than the other, and the canines don’t exactly match up. However, they seem to have a specific intention when leaving said bite marks on [Y/N]’s neck,” Heizou says, stroking his chin.

For the next five minutes, the men talk among themselves, trying to figure out who or what could have given you the bite marks. They continue to look and examine you, making you feel like a strange phenomenon they have ever laid their eyes on. Well, technically, you sort of are one because you’re not from their world.

“If you don’t mind me asking, how did you get those marks on your neck?” Aether asks, plopping down beside you.

You shift on Dottore’s lap, clearing your throat. “Uh…” you trail off, rubbing the back of your neck while subconsciously looking over at the two refined men two feet in front of you. For once, they’re not avoiding each other (well, Zhongli was the one avoiding). They stand beside each other, gazing at you intently, their eyes occasionally shifting to the marks on your neck. Of course, they’re not speaking to each other. They’re trying to keep up an act.

Wriothesley raises his eyebrows. “Why do you keep looking at Monsieur Neuvillette and Mister Zhongli? Surely they’re not the ones who left those marks on you, are they?” Wriothesley sarcastically asks, crossing his arms over his chest.

“So? Are you going to tell us how you got those marks on your throat?” Aether asks, shaking his head.

You have an inkling feeling that Aether knows who the culprits are but doesn’t want to say it. You look elsewhere, trying to come up with an excuse. While trying to find the excuse, you start to think about what led to you getting marked by the Chief Justice of Fontaine and the Funeral Consultant.

- Less than 24 hours ago -

Zhongli has offered to take you to Chenyu Vale after hearing you rave about the tea set Shenhe and Ganyu have gifted you when visiting the abode. Of course, the trip Zhongli initially planned was going to be just you and him. However, the Chief Justice of Fontaine wanted to tag along, and since Zhongli didn’t want to be rude, Zhongli reluctantly agreed to turn the trip for two into a trip for three.

“Ooh, twenty Chenyu Adeptea for fifteen hundred Mora?” You murmur, stroking your chin while the vendor talks your ears off.

Neuvillette grabs you by the shoulders before steering you away from the stall while clearing his throat. “While it may seem like a great deal, I wouldn’t recommend it,” Neuvillette mutters, ignoring the glare the merchant shoots in his direction.

“But it’s the same tea that Ganyu and Shenhe gifted me!” You protest, attempting to look at the stall, but Neuvillette shakes his head, turning your head to make you face forward.

Neuvillette sighed, muttering about merchants trying to lure unsuspecting victims into a scam— a scam he had once fallen for a year prior during Lantern Rite. Neuvillette looks around, searching for a certain idiot Archon Funeral Consultant around the area. Footsteps approaching you and Neuvillette grab both your and the Iudex’s attention.

Zhongli raises his eyebrows upon seeing the expression on Neuvillette’s face. “Is everything alright?” Zhongli crosses his arms over his chest.

You point at the stall behind you and Neuvillette. “Someone was selling packs of Adeptea for a great price! I was about to buy some, but Neuvillette steered me away from the merchant!” You explain, visibly upset.

Zhongli opens his mouth to scold Neuvillette, only for the Iudex to move out of the way to show the merchant and his stall. Upon laying his eyes on the familiar stall, Zhongli sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. For once, Zhongli is glad that Neuvillette decides to tag along on this trip. Who knows how much Mora you’ll end up spending and getting scammed in the end?

You continue to pout at Zhongli and Neuvillette, muttering about wanting to return to the abode with large quantities of Adeptea. Zhongli gestures to Neuvillette, letting the Iudex know that he’s got this handled.

Zhongli approaches you, grabs your hand, and tucks your hair behind your ear with a small smile. “Dearest, we’ve been out and about in Chenyu Vale for quite some time now. Are you hungry by any chance?” Zhongli asks, gazing at you intently.

“Huh. Now that I think about it, I am a little bit hungry…” you trail off, feeling your stomach rumble. “Yeah, I’m hungry.” You turn to Neuvillette, “What about you? Are you hungry as well, Neuvillette?”

The Chief Justice of Fontaine nearly cries with happiness. Not only is your attention taken away from the scam of a merchant, but you three are finally eating something after being away from the abode for hours. Granted, he did eat something prior to the trip, but walking around for hours can make a person hungry.

Neuvillette nods, “Yes, I am feeling quite peckish myself,” Neuvillette replies.

Zhongli ignores Neuvillette’s response to your question as he smiles and caresses the back of your head before slipping his hands into yours and pulling you towards a small pavilion. “I know just a place to satiate your hunger.”

Neuvillette sighs, rolling his eyes. Even though the idiot Funeral Consultant reluctantly agreed to have Neuvillette join in on this trip, Neuvillette does not appreciate the fact that he was the third wheel on this trip. Being the angel that you are, you make sure that both Neuvillette and Zhongli get the same shared attention.

Everything else after ends up being a blur for you. You don’t remember what you ordered at the small restaurant, but you do remember drinking a particular tea that is not of Chenyu Vale origin— well, it’s not grown locally. The tea has an earthy taste with a hint of sweetness to it. It’s not your cup of tea (hehehe, get it? Cyno would be so proud of you), but it’s not like you hate it.

After eating and taking a small break from your once-in-a-century exercise, you, Zhongli, and Neuvillette stop by various stalls around Chenyu Vale.

Despite the beautiful region being known for its tea, the three of you ended up coming across an interesting stall. The merchant is selling fragrances from all over Teyvat. Neuvillette and Zhongli have no interest in fragrances, but they’re quite intrigued by the ones you would pick up and examine with curiosity.

“Ah! I see you’re looking at the Glaze Lily and Rainbow Rose fragrance! It’s quite popular among the female population in Chenyu Vale!” says the merchant, her eyes gleaming with excitement.

You grab a slip of white paper from the stand and spray the perfume onto the paper before taking a whiff of the popular fragrance. You close your eyes, taking in the scent. It smells lovely. The Glaze Lily and Rainbow Rose scented perfume reminds you of the two men standing behind you— not because the flowers are from the two men’s respective regions, but because they go well together, if that makes sense.

The merchant leans on the stall, gazing at you curiously. “According to my customers, the scent varies from person to person. One customer told me she can smell Glaze Lily more than the Rainbow Rose. On the other hand, a recent customer informed me that she can smell the Rainbow Rose more than the Glaze Lily!”

You open your eyes and tilt your head, confused. You can smell both the Glaze Lily and Rainbow Rose— none of the scents were overtaking the other. While the perfume is quite fragrant and lovely, you don’t think this is for you. Plus, it’s pretty popular among the Chenyu Vale women, and you want something a little more… original. You want a signature scent that no other person on Teyvat can mimic.

“I can smell both the Glaze Lily and Rainbow Rose just fine. However, this fragrance isn’t for me. Do you have something unique? I want something original, something people cannot mimic,” you say, placing the perfume down on the stall.

The woman strokes her chin before squatting down, digging through the stall while you rock back and forth on the balls of your feet. Even though this trip is initially for the Adeptea, you couldn’t help but feel drawn to the fragrance stall. Something about it captivates your attention and makes you want to buy something— definitely not because the fragrance bottles are beautiful (it is).

You peek at Neuvillette and Zhongli, scratching the back of your head with a sheepish smile. “Sorry if this is taking a while. I wanted something unique for myself,” you mutter, feeling heat rush to your cheeks.

Neuvillette smiles and strokes your hair. “There is nothing to apologize for, my dear. It’s not like we’re in a rush to return to the estate,” Neuvillette replies.

Zhongli nods, approaching you and Neuvillette. “I have booked us an inn for the night. We will not be able to return to the abode around this time, especially in weather like this,” Zhongli says, gazing at the now gray skies.

Your eyes widen at the realization. If the three of you have to stay at an inn for the night, how is that going to turn out? Speaking of the inn, will you three have separate bedrooms? Since Zhongli booked the room, are you sharing a room with Zhongli, and does Neuvillette have his own room? Or—

The merchant’s head peeks from the stall, her eyes wide with excitement. “I have found just the scent for you, my dear customer!” The woman fixes her disheveled hair before handing you a round perfume bottle.

The bottle is a periwinkle color with gold and silver flecks scattered around the bottle. Silver vines wrapped around the bottle, and on those vines are cor lapis and noctilucous jade carved to look like blooming flowers. Zhongli raises his eyebrows while scrutinizing the bottle in your hands.

“If you don’t mind me asking, miss, what makes this fragrance special out of all the fragrances you sell?” Zhongli asks, never taking his eyes off the bottle.

You continue to examine the perfume bottle, enchanted by the appearance of the bottle. It has a sparkly squeeze bulb, tempting you into spraying it onto yourself. You and the merchant make eye contact. The woman grins and gestures to you to try it out yourself. You shrug, not thinking much of it, before pointing the perfume bottle at yourself and squeezing the squeeze bulb. You wince when you realize you sprayed way more than you intended.

“This fragrance is unique because whoever is wearing this scent will not only smell enchanting on the wearer, but only a small handful of people will be… charmed by the scent and the wearer,” she says, nodding with satisfaction.

You sniff the perfume, trying to figure out what the notes are. You’re no perfume expert, but it does have a bit of a unique smell to it. Zhongli and Neuvillette raise their eyebrows at the woman’s strange explanation of the so-called “unique” fragrance.

“I don’t think this perfume is something I was looking for. Perhaps it’s not meant to be,” You sigh, handing the bottle back to the woman.

The woman frowns, taking the bottle from your hands and storing it in the cabinet of the stall. You, Zhongli, and Neuvillette bid the woman goodbye before heading to the inn. What a shame. You thought you were going to return to the abode with new perfume to wear, but you weren’t too fond of the scent of the perfume. It has an earthy scent, almost reminding you of what the air would smell like after heavy rain. If you remember correctly, there is a hint of mint and maybe Qingxin, if you’re not mistaken.

Zhongli wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you close to him. “Mora for your thoughts?”

“Oh, it’s nothing! I’m just a little disappointed that I ended up not buying anything from the fragrance merchant. It’s a shame the ‘unique’ fragrance isn’t as nearly special as what she made it out to be,” you reply, allowing Zhongli to steer you to your next destination as the skies get darker.

Neuvillette walks beside you, almost sandwiching you between him and Zhongli. The Chief Justice of Fontaine drapes his arm over your shoulder, giving them a comforting squeeze. “I understand that you’re disappointed about the outcome, but think of it this way: you have plenty of Mora to spend before we return to the estate tomorrow afternoon,” Neuvillette says.

You stop in your tracks, letting his words sink in. Neuvillette’s not wrong, and besides, you still haven’t bought the Adeptea you’ve been wanting to buy. After all, that was the point of your trip to Chenyu Vale, but the three of you were sidetracked by the things around you. You guess this is what happens if you travel with men older than Teyvat.

You take three steps forward before turning to look at Zhongli and Neuvillette. “What you said is true, but I guess that is tomorrow me’s problem,” you shrug, “anyway, let’s go to the inn! It’s starting to sprinkle out here!” You grab their wrists before dragging them towards the large building.

The gust of wind allows both men behind you to catch a whiff of the perfume you sprayed on yourself. They freeze in their tracks, and the grips on your hands tighten, causing you to stumble back into them.

You blink, craning your head up to see what they’re doing. Zhongli and Neuvillette bend down to sniff your neck. Goosebumps appear all over your body when you feel them hover near your neck to smell the perfume you have on. The tip of Neuvillette’s nose pokes your neck, making you involuntarily freeze. Their hot breaths fan over your neck, sending shivers down your spine. Heat rushes to your cheeks as you try to remain calm while they continue to sniff your neck like a bloodhound. Without realizing it, Zhongli grabs underneath your chin and tilts your head up, exposing more of your neck.

Zhongli presses his nose against your neck, taking in deep breaths and breathing in the intoxicating scent of the perfume. Neuvillette closes his eyes, burying his nose into your collarbones and letting the smell of the perfume flood into his nose. You gulp, your heart thundering against your chest the more the two men press up against you.

“What’s gotten into you two?” You breathe, letting out a shaky sigh.

Neuvillette and Zhongli ignore your question as they continue to bury their faces into your neck, occasionally licking and biting your neck. You lay your head on Zhongli’s shoulders while he continues to keep your head tilted back as he peppers kisses from your jawlines to your shoulders.

“If you two want to have your ways with me, at least do it indoors and not where people can see,” you sputter, feeling heat pool into your lower regions.

Upon hearing your words, Zhongli and Neuvillette stop what they’re doing and pull you to the inn. Zhongli checks you three into the inn and grabs the keys from the innkeeper’s hands before dragging you to the elevator with Neuvillette at your side. Once the elevator door closes, both men proceed with what they are doing.

Neuvillette stands behind you, his left arm around your waist while his right hand slips underneath your shirt. Zhongli stands before you, cupping your cheeks with both hands and pressing his lips against yours, devouring your lips. Zhongli grabs your right leg and wraps it around his waist, grinding against you. Your jaws drop, eyes rolling to the back of your head. Zhongli takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, grinding harder against your heat.

Before things can escalate, the elevator bell chimes, alerting the three of you that you have arrived at the floor where your rooms reside. Neuvillette and Zhongli drags you out of the elevator and to the room where you three will be staying. Now that you have some time to process what happened in the elevator, you can’t help but notice prominent tents forming in Zhongli and Neuvillette’s pants.

Neuvillette tosses you over his shoulders while Zhongli unlocks the door to the room. Once the door unlocks, Zhongli and Neuvillette step into the room. Neuvillette closes the door with his foot and locks the door without looking. You lay limp over Neuvillette’s shoulders. A wave of embarrassment washes over you when you feel how soaked your panties are.

Neuvillette tosses you onto the bed, making you bounce. You scan the room of the inn you’re staying at, realizing there’s only one bed in the room. Now that you think about it, Zhongli didn’t hand an extra key for another room at the inn. It seems like Zhongli never booked extra rooms— the three of you are going to sleep in the same bed for the night at the inn.

You prop yourself up on the bed, gazing at both men with wide eyes after seeing that they have removed their coats and are in the process of taking their gloves off and rolling their sleeves up to their elbows.

“What has gotten into you two? You two are acting like you’re in a rut!” You squeak.

Neuvillette chuckles, shaking his head. “There’s nothing to worry about, dearest. Are we, your lovers, not allowed to savor this moment between us?” Neuvillette asks.

You warily look at Neuvillette. “I’m not against having intimate moments with both of you, but you two are acting strange,” you murmur. “It’s not like you two to display such affection in public. I am not against it, but you two are usually composed.”

Zhongli clears his throat, unbuttoning his shirt to expose his bare chest. “Forgive me, my dear. The perfume you have on is quite intoxicating. I cannot help but feel like I’m under a spell when I catch a whiff of the fragrance,” Zhongli says, now standing at the edge of the bed.

Zhongli rests one knee on the bed before grabbing you by the ankles. Without warning, Zhongli yanks you towards the edge, emitting a surprised squeak from you. Zhongli chuckles and rubs your cheek with his thumb before leaning down to pepper your face with gentle kisses. Zhongli grabs your hand and laces his fingers with yours before pressing his lips against yours.

While you and Zhongli kiss, Neuvillette kneels before you and spreads your legs apart. Neuvillette slides his hands underneath the bands of your shorts before roughly tugging them down to your ankles and tossing them behind him. The Chief Justice of Fontaine then loops his index and middle finger around the bands of your panties, sliding them down your legs, gulping at the sight of your dripping entrance.

Neuvillette licks his lips before spreading your legs wider, leans forward, and latches his lips onto your entrance. You break your and Zhongli’s kiss, gasping when you feel Neuvillette’s warm tongue lapping and swirling at your entrance. Zhongli takes that as an opportunity to unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants. You softly whimper when Neuvillette penetrates your heat with his tongue while pressing his nose against the engorged and throbbing nerve.

Zhongli groans after freeing his throbbing cocks from his underwear. Your eyes grow wide, completely forgetting that Zhongli has more than one cock. Fuck, how could you forget so easily? Wait, if Zhongli has two of them, does that mean Neuvillette also has two cocks? What if he has more than two?

Zhongli taps your lips with the tip of his cock, signaling you to open your mouth. You open your mouth and stick your tongue out. Zhongli slides his cock into your mouth, moaning when the warmth of your mouth engulfs his cock. While sucking Zhongli’s cock, you reach for his second cock and begin pumping it at a steady pace.

You nearly choke on Zhongli’s dick when you feel something penetrate your wet heat. You turn to see Neuvillette gently sliding his index and middle finger into your entrance, slow enough not to hurt you. He stretches your entrance, making sure you’re ready for what’s to come. Zhongli pushes your head down on his cock, making you swallow more. You wince, nearly gagging. You pause for a moment and close your eyes, trying to collect yourself.

You pull away from Zhongli’s cock before bringing the other one into your mouth to continue where you have left off. Zhongli wipes the stray tear in the corner of your eyes, pressing a kiss on your head as a silent apology for being a teeny bit rough on you. Even though he wasn’t rough on you in the slightest, he didn’t want to cause you any discomfort while doing anything intimate with you.

Neuvillette pulls away from your groin, pulling his fingers out of your entrance. Neuvillette sucks on his soaked fingers, maintaining eye contact with you while your mouth is occupied with sucking Zhongli’s second cock. Neuvillette stands up and unbuckles his belt, unzips his pants, and pulls his pants and underwear down. Unsurprisingly, two cocks spring from the confinement of his pants, slapping his lower abdomen. The mushroom tips of his cock are bright red and leaking with pre-cum.

Oh, you are not going to make it out alive. Hell, someone’s going to have to carry around Chenyu Vale and back to the abode after today. You subconsciously pull Zhongli’s cock out of your mouth and glance at Zhongli’s cocks, then at Neuvillette’s cocks. Who has bigger dicks between the two of them?

Zhongli raises his eyebrows at you, pulling your hair into a ponytail and tilting your head up. “What are you thinking about?” Zhongli mutters, his voice thick with lust.

You stare at Zhongli, trying to come up with an excuse. Neuvillette chuckles, rubbing his hands on your thighs as he parts your legs. Neuvillette grabs one of his cocks and rubs them against your folds, coating his aching cock with your slick.

You shake your head, heat rushing to your cheeks. “I wanted to know what’s causing you two to act this way, that’s all,” you finally sputter out an excuse.

Zhongli continues to gaze at you with a raised eyebrow, tapping your bottom lip with the tip of his cock. You reluctantly open your mouth, still hoping that Zhongli bought your poor excuse of a response. While you are curious about what made Zhongli and Neuvillette act so strange, like an animal in a rut, you don’t want the two men to get competitive over who has a bigger package.

After a few minutes of Neuvillette rubbing his cock between your folds, Neuvillette nudges your entrance with the bulbous tip of his cock. You’re too busy sucking and licking Zhongli’s cock to notice that Neuvillette is about to bury his cock inside you. Without warning, Neuvillette slides his thick cock into your pulsating entrance. The smooth and moist walls of your entrance clenches around Neuvillette’s cock, making him tense and bury his face into your neck, groaning. After Neuvillette is balls deep inside you, he relaxes and reaches for your hand, lacing his fingers with yours.

“You’re very tight; relax for me, dearest,” Neuvillette murmurs into your ears, his chest rapidly rising and falling.

You whimper, taking Zhongli’s cock out of your mouth while writhing beneath Neuvillette’s body. “It hurts, Neuvillette,” you whine, squeezing your eyes shut as you dig your nails into his back.

Neuvillette kisses the side of your head as he reassures you. Neuvillette reaches down and starts pinching and rubbing your swollen bundle of nerves. You squeeze and pulse around his cock, both legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer to you. You and Neuvillette groan when Neuvillette is now buried at the hilt.

Neuvillette wraps his arms around your waist before pulling you farther up the bed. Neuvillette lays on his back with you lying on top of him. He tangles his fingers in your hair before crashing his lips against yours. While you and Neuvillette are messily making out, Zhongli completely strips off his clothes and comes up behind you.

Zhongli lifts his hand and slaps your right ass cheek, causing you to jolt and break the kiss between you and Neuvillette. Zhongli chuckles and shakes his head, placing both hands on your waist before gently bouncing you on Neuvillette’s cock. You softly moan, slowly riding Neuvillette’s cock with the help of Zhongli.

Once you’re used to Neuvillette’s size, you start to take over, increasing the speed. Neuvillette wraps one arm around your waist while the other is on your shoulder, forcing you to stay in one place as he pistons his cock into your wet heat.

Your slick trails down your leg, soaking Neuvillette’s pubic hairs and lap. Neuvillette takes the opportunity to slide his second cock into the same hole, causing you to tense and dig your nails into his shoulders.

Zhongli spreads your ass cheeks and spits. He reaches down and gathers your slick and rubs your ass hole. You knew this day would come, but you didn’t know that it was going to happen today. You squeeze your eyes shut and bury your face in Neuvillette’s neck after feeling Zhongli’s cock probing at your ass.

Zhongli slowly inserts his cock, stretching out your ass. You groan and bite down on Neuvillette’s shoulders, sending shivers down Neuvillette’s spine. As Zhongli continues to slowly sink his cock into your ass, Neuvillette licks your neck and takes a deep whiff of the intoxicating scent of your skin and the perfume. Neuvillette continues to thrust his cocks into your entrance; the sound of skin-to-skin and squelching fills the air, accompanied by occasional moans and whimpers from the three of you.

Zhongli gathers your hair into a ponytail and tilts your head to the side, revealing your neck to him. Zhongli leans down and presses his nose against your neck, taking deep breaths before letting out a breathy moan in your ears. Zhongli squeezes your chest with his unoccupied hand, rutting into your backside.

Zhongli and Neuvillette make eye contact and glare at each other. Zhongli looks away, gritting his teeth while Neuvillette continues to hammer his cocks into your heat. Zhongli stares at your neck for a moment, gradually slowing his pace.

Should he do it? Zhongli shakes his head, trying to ignore the voices in his head that are trying to convince him to mark you— claim you as his and only his. Zhongli thrusts hard, causing you to jolt forward and moan like an absolute whore.

“Fuck, Zhongli!” You whine, blindly reaching behind you to grip his bicep.

Fuck it. Zhongli buries his face into your neck and bites down on your neck. Your eyes widen, and you let out a strained gasp, whimpering in pain. Tears pool in your eyes the harder Zhongli bites down on your neck, drawing blood.

Neuvillette glares at Zhongli before mimicking Zhongli’s actions. The Chief Justice of Fontaine gently kisses the other side of your neck before biting your neck just as hard as Zhongli. You wail, thrashing in Zhongli and Neuvillette’s arms as they refuse to let go of your neck. You feel warm liquid gushing from your neck and streaming down your collarbones and chest.

It takes you approximately five minutes to realize that there’s a tight knot forming in your lower abdomen the more Zhongli and Neuvillette continue to piston their two cocks into your holes while biting your neck like a feral animal. Before you know it, the knot in your lower abdomen snaps, sending you into momentary bliss as you cum around Neuvillette’s cocks.

You don’t remember what happens after that. If you have to think hard, you’re certain that Zhongli and Neuvillette switch places to continue to rail you through the night at the inn. Whoever’s in the nearby rooms, you sincerely apologize for causing a disturbance with your two lovers. You really hope you won’t get a complaint letter or call from the innkeeper.

- Present -

Kazuha waves his hand in front of your face after you blanked out for who knows how long. “Hello? Are you still here with us?” Kazuha teasingly asks, chuckling.

You snap out of your thoughts and clear your throat, looking away. There’s no way in hell you’re telling them the truth about how you got the bite marks on your neck. Albedo and Baizhu nudge the others away from you to give them room to inspect the bite marks on your neck. Baizhu sighs and tilts your head side to side to get a better look while Changsheng scrutinizes you— oh, the snake knows the perpetrators. You give the snake a pleading look, hoping she won’t rat Neuvillette and Zhongli out.

Changsheng shakes her head with disapproval. “It’ssss quite obvioussss how [Y/N] received thosssse markssss on their neck,” Changsheng says, twisting her head to glance over at Neuvillette and Zhongli, narrowing her eyes at them.

“Oh? And who do you think it could be, Changsheng?” Lyney asks, raising his eyebrows at the white snake draping over Baizhu’s shoulders with interest and curiosity.

You contemplate whether you should lunge at Changsheng to keep her mouth shut, but you decide not to do it because you know that will make you look suspicious— well, even more suspicious than you already seem. Albedo hums, cleaning the bite marks on your neck before briefly pausing.

You look at Albedo, worried, “What’s with that look on your face?”

Albedo chuckles, shaking his head. “It’s nothing to worry about, [Y/N]. But the bite marks around your neck should be healed within a few days to a week. Depending on how deep the bites are, it could take up to almost a month for it to be healed,” Albedo says, handing the white gauze to Baizhu.

You’re not entirely sure if the bites will heal because when you glanced in the mirror, the bite marks were glowing. Even though the ache didn’t last as long, it does ache a lot— probably not as much as yesterday, but it’s aching.

“The two of you bit [Y/N], didn’t you?” Wriothesley asks, raising his eyebrows at Zhongli and Neuvillette, the corner of his lips quirking up.

Neuvillette clears his throat, crossing his arms over his chest. “I would do no such thing,” Neuvillette replies.

Everyone in the room raises their eyebrows at the Chief Justice of Fontaine, not believing his response. Zhongli, on the other hand, sighs and chooses not to reply to Wriothesley’s comment. Despite choosing to stay silent, the red ears and cheekbones say another.

Childe pokes the inside of his cheek with his tongue, glaring at Zhongli and Neuvillette, steam practically coming from his ears. You shut your eyes, hoping no one will start a fight after discovering who marked you.

“I can’t believe you two marked [Y/N] before I did!” Childe exclaims. “I should be the first one to do it, not you two!”

You pinch the bridge of your nose, temples beginning to throb as more people start to shout in agreement. Great, now your body is going to be littered with marks from these men. It’s not like you mind it… you’re just worried about who will try to make theirs more prominent for other people to see. You peek at Zhongli and Neuvillette, only to see them subtly smile at each other. Your mouth is agape after realization dawns on you.

They planned this entire thing.

Note: I understand that Neuvillette is probably not older than Teyvat like Zhongli, but for the sake of this fic, he is now. Wow, this is the final fanfic of the year and the first smut in forever. My goal for 2025 is to hopefully write and post more fanfics! And catch up with Genshin and HSR quests. The next fanfic I will be posting after this one is a Love&Deepspace one! Oh! Before I reopen my Discord server, I am looking for new moderators for my server! So, if you are interested in being a moderator for my server, here is the link to the form [HERE]! The deadline is January 7th, 2025! ^^ If you are chosen, I or one of my moderators will contact you through either Tumblr, Discord, or AO3 before the server is reopened! Anyway, To all my new and returning readers, keep in mind that I ONLY post on my Tumblr (Genshinluvr), Ko-Fi (Genshinluvr/Aaliah_exo), and my AO3 (Aaliah_exo)! Nowhere else except Tumblr and AO3!

Taglist: @uniquecutie-puffs, @rubyninja1, @loveariel

Read more of my works on my Grand Masterlist, which contains every masterlist I have created! | Maybe support me by tipping me on Ko-Fi or by reblogging my fanfics! ^^ I will also be posting exclusive fanfics on Ko-Fi as well very soon! I might post all of my stories there, too, but who knows. You can also tip me on Tumblr if you'd like as a way to show support! ^^

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muzansfangs · 29 days ago

Text

Il nome mio nessun saprà (no one will know my name).

Starring: The Salesman x f!reader; Seong Gi-hun x f!reader (platonic relationship); mention to Cho Sang-woo and Hwang Jun-ho;

Format: multi-chapters story;

Warnings: nsfw, vaginal fingering, angst, harrassment, the reader is European (italian to be specific), use of cigarettes, alcohol consumption, death, grieving, violence, blood, stalking, slight manipulation, age gap (reader is twenty-one);

Plot: enrolling in Law School in a foreign country was decidely a risky choice to make. Still, you had no one holding you back, but a wholesome reason to leave. Your late mother had eventually decided to disclose the truth about your biological father and now you were coping with the primordial yearning of finding him. You only had his name, a photograph and the rumor he probably still lived in South Korea. You spent months searching for him in Seoul, focusing on your studies until the night veiled the sky. And it was exactly during a rather uneventful saturday night that you luckily bumped in a stranger with a tailored suit and a everlasting eerie smile on his face. Brazenly, your eyes pleaded him to save you, to give you an alibi, and he did. Something blossomed between you two. But you did not know that the very man who had pulled the strings of your heart was soon going to screw up your entire life.

masterlist | to the next chapter

[𝟎𝟎𝟏] 𝐂𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐝𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐞.

You had not inherited any physical trait of him. The more you intently scrutinized the old photo of that stranger, your father, the harder it was believing you were his biological daughter. Born from a wild one- night stand of your late mother and that smiling korean man, who apparently had played his cards well enough to make that sweet tourist agree to spend the night in his company, you were now wondering why your mother even decided to give birth to you, raise you alone and, above all, why she did not bother contacting him to let him know he had a daughter in Europe. Tormenting yourself with a bunch of ‘what ifs’ was pointless. It was too late to ask such questions and no one could provide you logical answers anyway. You did not feel like pressing your mother, during the last days of her life, and your grandparents had died long before she confessed the identity of your father.

All you had to do was dealing with the empiric evidence of her shenanigans: your very existence and the picture of that man.

You had grieved her death alone, keeping your promise to look out for yourself and chase your dreams. It was the least you could do to show your gratitude to her for having sacrificed her own projects and aspirations to give you a decent life, a better future. The funeral was the hardest part. No relatives were around. To keep you company and deposit flowers by her grave there were just a couple of her friends and some of your old classmates: people who you had to say goodbye to, on your way out of the cemetery. Cutting ties was the best thing to do. You left the same night for starting a new life. The last thing you remembered before falling asleep on the plane were the droplets of rain streaming over the cold glass of the window.

The first chapter of your story was chaotic. Your mother was gone, you had enrolled in the Seoul Law School and were busy searching the city for your father. You had wisely started your hunt from the area your mother had told you she had met him at. You struggled communicating with the locals at first. Most of the people did not seem to understand you, or did not give a damn iota about you. However, you were fluent in English and some of the Korean students at the Campus were helping you out. They had taught you the basic sentences to use to survive, made sure you learned which trains to take to travel around, when you were alone, and some tactics to defend yourself from the native creeps. You gradually adapted to your new life-style. Summarizing the first months of your adventure, you could proudly say it was not going as bad as you had figured on the plane to Seoul. Whilst you were making new friends and growing familiar with some areas of the city, you began to cross off from the map the parks and streets you had looked for him throughout days and nights.

Your map was painted red.

Alas, though, you also soon began to lose hope on the chance to meet your father. When you successfully engaged in a seemingly good conversation with the owners of a restaurant, or pub, you were unable to provide them more informations about the man you were looking for. His name was Seong Gi-hun, he had hooked up with your mother when he was a rampant twenty-six-years-old man with a radiant smile and he bragged about a brilliant friend of his: Cho Sang-woo.

Too bad no one seem to know nor your father, neither the smartass he had befriended long ago.

Defeated, after another uneventful night, you were dragging your feet along the sidewalk, hoping to reach the right underground line to go back to your dorm. It was two in the morning, drunk people swayed around you in the cramped streets, the smell of cigarettes and alcohol permeated the air and you scrunched up your nose in disgust, careful not to step on the sharp, glimmering splinters of the umpteenth smashed bottle on your way. Despite that, it was not like you were not used to see the same scanario back in Europe as well. What probably left you uncomfortable was most likely the fact you could still hardly comprehend the language, let alone the slang, and you were wary of your surroundings. You felt like a mouse fallen in a pit of vipers.

You had almost made it to your destination, when you turned the corner and, unfortunately, were face to face with a group of snickering guys, beers in hands, leering at any woman passing by.

Well, crap. Odds were not in your favor.

Frantically, you whipped your head around, narrowing your eyes in search for an alternative road to take. Venturing further into the unknown was just as bad as proceeding that way. You could already sense the sickening feeling of their smoldering gazes on your frame and you were one hundred percent sure some of them had already noticed you standing a few feet away from them. You usually had a good sense of self-preservation, confiding both in your knowledge and your conscience. You were already doomed that night. Why had you even declined your new friend’s invitation to a party to explore a huge city you barely knew by night and, to cap it all, alone? That was the first mistake of the night. Waves of insults to your inexplicable stupidity began to pester your mind, the moment you took a sharp intake of breath and sped up to leave that group of men at your back.

The wolf-whistles piercing your ears did not make you falter. You kept your head high, eyes directed to the sign indicating entrace to the underground. Naively, you thought those folks were merely scaring off lonely women, you hoped they had no further purpose but that. Your stomach churned, upon hearing heavy footsteps approaching you from behind. How many of them were stalking you down? One, maybe two people at best. Regardless, you refused to glance above your shoulder.

“Hey! Do you speak English?” a voice asked you, the amused undertone making the hair on the back of your neck stand in fright. One. It was just one out of five, you tried to reassure yourself. If you just kept on marching to the platform and the train made it in time, you had a good chance to give the felon the slip.

Your lack of response and reaction made him chuckle darkly and you swore your heart was desperately attempting to break your ribcage and jump out of your chest. Like Hell you wanted to die like that. All you had to do was pretending he was not there.

You had begun to tear down the stairs, when you felt his hand enclosing your elbow and his large body glueing to your hip. Invading your personal space with no regards of limits made you see red. You scoffed, finally shooting an annoyed glance at the grinning stranger, who had abruptly forced you to stop in your tracks.

“Let me go” you quipped, ungraciously wriggling your arm to get free. His grip on you only tightened and you bit the insides of your cheeks not to wince in pain.

The guy beamed, tugging you closer to him once again, ecstatic about your determination and combative spirit “Oh, so you do speak English! — he began, wiggling his eyebrows up annoyingly, the stench of tobacco in his breath causing a scowl to cross your face — Where are you from, darling? France? Germany? England?”.

You snorted, jaw clenching, as you uncomfortably let your eyes flit downstairs to spot a potential source of help from someone on the platform. Much to your dismay, there was only a sleeping, battered old man, hand clutching some money in his hands for dear life. He did not look like he even had a home. How curious was it that you were busying yourself wondering how did he even own such a conspicuous amount of money, if his clothes were dirty and tattered? He had probably robbed someone.

Or so you supposed.

“My boyfriend is waiting for me downstairs! I do not think he will be happy to see what you are doing to me” you blurted out firmly, flashing a warning gaze at your aggressor, hoping he was going to desist from pesting you further. For a split second, you swore his eyes widened, contemplating whether you were bluffing, or actually giving him a possibility to escape a beating from your mysterious boyfriend.

You truly did your best in showcasing a confident attitude. Too bad he did not believe a word you had said and nudged you to walk down to the platform, rudely spitting on your shoes “Yeah? Where’s the lucky bastard? Let’s go meet him, okay?” he taunted you, pushing you down the remaining steps without thinking twice.

You squeaked out in fear, miraculously landing on your feet and quickly straightening your jacket, as you found back your balance. You hesitantly raised your face, glossy eyes inspecting the length of the platform to look for help. A cop, maybe. But no officer wandered down the underground at that time. It was late. No one was there.

No one, but a tall man in a fancy tailored suit and a suitcase in his hand. After all, odds were in your favor. You did not have much time ponder your decision. Briefly, you studied him. He was clearly older than you, there was a chance he actually spoke English and could connect the dots at your senseless words. You had no other choice, in the end. You gave it your best shot. A shuddery breath left your lips, as you pointed at the tall man and made sure that thug followed your gaze. Lying was not in your style. However, you knew that the basic animal instinct of striving to survive was kicking in.

You smiled, genuinely even, feeling the muscles of your cheeks stretching in a loving, enthusiastic smile directed to the stranger. He had caught a glimpse of you in his peripheral. How could he not, when you had practically been shoved downstairs and had landed in such an unladylike fall? Something was off. And he knew it, he could see it in the shimmering tears prickling your eyes, when you opened your arms and snuggled against his chest, as if you two were meant to meet.

His masculine cologne ungulfed you, one calloused hand threading through your hair, surprisingly not to yank you off of him. And in that instant, you knew you were safe. A stranger had harassed you and a stranger was saving your life. You closed your eyes, reluctantly pulling away from the tall man to meet his eyes. Two dark pools of ink met your eyes, swallowing you whole as he smiled back down at you. Dear God, he was handsome. Unbelievably good-looking. Probably too handsome to be real and you foolishly asked yourself if you had been shot dead by the felon and had just landed in Heaven.

“He’s my boyfriend” you finally stated, though, bashfully pulling your gaze off of your savior’s face to meet the other guy’s gaze. The nightmare was not over yet.

Hands tucked in the pockets of his ripped jeans, he snorted, eyeing you two suspiciously. Unexpectedly, before any of you could say another word, the old man who was napping on the platform groggily stood up and stared at you in total shock.

His face was horrified, unsteady steps leading him next to the arrogant guy who had hollered at you a few moments ago. The man tried to usher him out of the station, all the while slurring indistinct korean words you failed to both catch and understand. The younger one clearly did not appreciate whatever the tramp had told him and knocked him down with a punch straight on his nose. You shrieked, hand clasped over your mouth, as the thug dashed away and stared at the bleeding man on the floor.

He was still alive, thankfully, and you began to fumble in your bag for a tissue to hand him. The man in a suit, however, anticipated you and walked towards the drunk man grumbling on the floor. Once again, the two of them cut you out of the conversation by speaking korean. This time around, though, you were able to understand something along the lines of ‘change the station, he will come back for you’.

“Can I help you somehow?” you shyly asked, intruppting them, as you watched the man wipe the blood off of his face and the tall guy turn his attention back on you.

He smiled, again. Actually, you did not seem to recall a moment he had stopped smiling. You shivered, eyes darting away from him not to expose yourself and your evident attraction towards him. He really had no reason to be that attractive.

“I should be the one asking you that. Are you alright, miss?” he inquired, keeping a comfortable distance between you two. How considerate of him sparing you the embarrassment of more unsolicited physical contact with him, after you had literally buried your face in his chest like an ostrich would with the sand. You thought he probably must have felt a great amount of discomfort at holding you in his arms protectively.

You nodded your head, glad to see he could speak English as well “I am good, thanks for asking… And for your help too. I did not mean to be a burden” you apologized, bowing your head to excuse yourself once again.

“It’s nothing. I did not have to get rid of that man, did I? — he replied casually, straighening his tie absentmindedly with his free hand — I can not help, though, but wonder why a foreign girl is down the streets, all by herself, in the dead of the night. It’s dangerous” he reasoned, his tight smile pinning you on the spot once again. Well, he was right.

Also, it was only natural for an older man to question a girl that could have probably been his daughter about her disputable choices.

“I know! I’ve been reckless… But I think young and desperate people make such mistakes, once in a while” you vaguely said, shrugging, and transfixing your gaze on the rails to avoid his cold eyes.

You did not expect the conversation to continue. You blinked skeptically, when he fed the flame.

“Desperate, you say? What troubles might gnaw at a young girl’s stomach, besides graduation and dating?” he queried your assertion, seemingly interested in your story. A late night talk with a stranger in a desolate underground was not exectly how you expected your exploration to end. He did not seem to have ill intentions. He was probably just a tired man working in a bank, or a CEO of some important company, waiting for his train to go and get some well-deserved rest. At least, that is what you thought judging from his sophisticated way to carry himself and the cocky aura he radiated.

You exhaled softly through your nose, a melancholic smile curving your lips “Well, it’s… It’s complicated. I’ve just moved to Korea. I remember wanting to study aboard since I was a kid. — you began, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear, one of the habits you did not seem ready to get rid of — And I’m glad to be here, don’t get me wrong. The thing is I’ve chosen this Country because I was told my biological father lives here” you admitted, folding your arms against your chest protectively.

Honesty. A virtue to pursue, but a fatal flaw, when you meet a wolf in sheep clothing.

“I see. Let me guess, you found him and he is far from the man you expected him to be?”.

“Nothing like that. I can’t find him”.

A few seconds of silence blanketed the station. Opening up to a stranger you deemed to be a decent man was weird per se. You were aware of it. However, loneliness probably was starting to get the best of you. An adult figure to confide in was everything you needed but did not have. Maybe this was the main reason why you relentlessly searched for your father. Family was important to you.

The man hummed. The next thing you knew he was standing closer, head cocked to the side and a gentle expression on his face “You look discouraged. It is understable. — he began, the shadow of a smirk creasing his lips — How many informations you have about him?” he asked you then, causing you to shake your head and reach for his picture in your small bag.

You flipped it around, hopelessly wishing in a positive feedback, to show it to him “This picture, his name and that he had a smart friend: Cho Sang-woo”.

For a moment, you thought he actually had an answer to provide you, or a suggestion. Unfortunately, he lowered his gaze and shook his head. Obviously, you were back to the start. Pushing your luck was all you could do to solve the puzzle.

“This time around, I can’t really help you. You should probably hire a private detective” he suggested you flatly, locking eyes with you as you two heard the familiar toot of the train entering the station.

You let out a bitter laughter “Non tutti sono ricchi come te¹” you whispered under your breath, confiding your native language could somehow conceal your demotivation and financial issues. All you had was enough to simply take care of your carreer. You could not afford to pay a man to track down your father.

The sliding doors opened and you entered the train, slightly taken aback by the fact he did not. What the Hell was he even doing there? He stood right in front of you, back straight as a ramrod, hand raising to wave at you with his trademark smirk. You furrowed your eyebrows, lips parting to say your goodbye, when his reply left you speechless.

“Buona fortuna ² ”.

Colors drained from your face the moment he made it loud and clear he spoke italian. Your mortified expression might have spoken volumes, for he quirked his eyebrows up and nodded his head in your direction. When the doors closed, you slumped onto an empty seat, glad you were probably not going to meet that handsome man ever again in your life. What a disgraceful day it had been. Especially for that drunk man you had totally forgotten about, lost in your train of thoughts.

Nearly two weeks later, you were gawking at a letter in your mailbox. Someone knew your address, your name and the fact you were looking for your father. Your hands were shaking, fingertips running over the texture of the paper, nails scraping it in a comforting sound. You could not deny your head began to spin and you were forced to curl yourself up in a ball over your small bed. The black capital letters standing out on the white card in front of you were truly a manna from Heaven, but for all you knew it could have been also a letter from the haunts of Hell.

No one knew you were looking for Cho Sang-woo and Seong Gi-hun. No one, really. Not even your new friends from the courses you had signed up to were that well-informed. There was only one person who knew those name, but you highly doubted he even recalled them. And, additionally, he did not know yours. Merely thinking about that stud made a sense of uneasiness set in your stomach. You had hugged him out of no where, you had undirectly labeled him as a filthy, selfish rich man who had money to throw away. Gosh, you felt so miserable and humiliated when he had talked back to you effortlessly in your own language. He had left quite the impression on you. Then again, he did not give off the vibes of a delinquent.

Now, however, it was not the right time to daydream about him. To distract yourself from reminiscing about your mistakes, you focused on the dossier you had received.

“Cho Sang-woo, age fourty-six. Investment banker at the Joy Investments. He usually arrives at his workplace around eight o’clock in the morning”.

Well, this man was not your father. However, some informations about where to find his so-called best friend could help anyway. There was a high possibility Mr. Cho was still in touch with him and therefore he could give you his address. You wished you could thank whoever had sent you that letter, but the pacakge was unsigned. Your savior seemed to want to remain incognito. Savior. That word sound bittersweet, giving the circumstances. The mysterious person that had sent those informations had been, without the shadow of a doubt, watching you, eavesdropping your conversations, stalking you. The mere idea of someone sneaking in your dorm, when you were fast asleep, or when you were attending your classes sent frissons over your skin. You refused to even picture a hooded stranger following you around. Something did not quite make sense, though.

If you had a stalker, why was he helping you out?

You huffed, fingers running through your hair in distress, as you ultimately decided to both make good use of the informations you had received and protect yourself from any potential threat lurking in the shadows.

The following day, you were sipping on a coffee in your new friend’s car. Hwang Ju-ho, a young cop who had taken pity on you, when you had just landed in Seoul and had no idea of where to go, or how to reach your destination. He had been kind to you, even leaving you his number in case you needed something. And you did.

“Let me get this straight. You have been asking random people around Seoul if they knew your father, or this Cho Sang-woo for three months straight?” he asked you, pulling over in a still empty parking lot. The sky was grey, the drizzle was becoming a downpour and you had not bothered to take an umbrella with you. Bad decision, undoubtedly.

“Exactly” you shortly commented, head lolling against the headrest of the passenger seat. You were drained, as of late. Studying hard for learning the local language and keeping up with yours courses was consuming you to the bone. Your lack of sleep was the cherry on top. You wondered when your body was going to give up and you finally reached the infamous burn-out.

Ju-ho rested his forearms on the top of the steering wheel, dark eyes scanning the horizon “And yesterday you found an anonymous letter in your mailbox with your father’s friend data in it?” he pressed again, earning a soft hum of approval from you.

You had not revealed too many informations to him about Cho Sang-woo, except for the fact he worked in the modern building in a part of the city you had yet to visit and that you had reached out for him to help you out. You had improved your Korean, therefore you did not even need his assistance in communicating with the so-called genius of the Department of Economics of Seoul. The small picture of him, a polaroid, you had found in the package along the letter showed a distinguished man with square glasses, an impeccable suit and a cold look in his eyes. Hopefully, he was not an asshole.

You had already thought about what to ask him and how. Allegedly, you were more than ready, enthusiastic at the idea of finally having a chance to find your dad. You wondered if he was a good man and if he had his own new family. In that case, was he going to accept you in his life?

Your mind went back to that unglorious night, to the man in a suit and his question: “Let me guess, you found him and he is far from the man you expected him to be?”.

No. He was wrong. He had to be wrong. Deep down, you hoped to have a heartwarming reunion with your father, one of those cliché, stereotypical scenes you had watched countless times in the movies. You had deeply craved a father figure in your life. Time passed, though, and, albeit you did not grow up with your dad, your dream to look at a man and call him ‘dad’ never diminished in you. At the end of the day, you were still the innocent little girl who asked Santa to let you meet your father. However he was, wherever he was.

To interrupt yout stream of consciousness was Ju-ho, clearing his throat “If you don’t want me to help you, why am I here? I could take care of this pretty easily, you know?” he said, leaning his back on the seat and glancing at you in curiosity.

“You are helping me. I needed a lift and someone to watch my back. You are here and this is more than enough for me to be grateful to you” you promptly said, right before you caught a glimpse of a man in a black suit and matching umbrella heading towards the entrance of the building. There he was: Cho Sang-woo, tall and confident, following the routine the snout had indicated in the letter.

You quickly exchanged a knowing look with Ju-ho, before opening the car door and jogging towards your father’s best friend. It was pouring and, in a matter of seconds, you were soaked. Your hair were stuck on your face, forehead, neck. Your clothes clinging to your body uncomfortably made it hard to speed up more.

Eventually, though, you caught up with him. His dark eyes met yours, so wide and full of hope. You were a panting mess, hands wiping away the droplets of water falling from your lashes, as he stared you down wearily. Who exactly were you? A foreigner, that much was pretty evident.

“Sir! Do you have a minute?” you started, hand already diving in your bag to retrive your father’s photo. He had no time to waste and you honestly wanted to get this over with as soon as possible.

“Who are you? I have no money this month. I have already—”.

Money? You frowned, shaking your head, before showing him the picture of your father, tearful eyes boring into his ones, so unaffected and devoid of emotions. He seemed tense, you would have even dared to say agitated and you were blaming it on the fact he was being held back by a stranger before he could go to work.

“You’re Cho Sang-woo, right? — you asked, blinking quickly to clear your vision — Do you know this man? He’s my dad… I’m looking for him! You were friends, or so I’ve been told by my mother” you fretted to explain, perfectly knowing you were sounding like a maniac.

You did not resemble your dad in the slightest. Sang-woo gazed into your eyes, then at the photograph you were holding before him. Reading this man was impossible. He blankly stared at you, shutting you out of his head. The silence probably lasted a few seconds, before he degnified you with a dry answer.

“Go back home, kid” he dispassionately stated, resuming his walk without sparing you a glance.

But you had no home to go back to. You were looking for a place to call home, for a person to feel like home. You refused to accept such a refusal. This man could obviously help you, but he was downright choosing to ignore you. Were you so undeserving of a father?

“I don’t have a home anymore, sir! — you called after him, standing right where you were, gaze on the cobblestone — Please, I really need to find my father. He’s all I have now. He’s all that is left of… Of my family” you admitted, hating how your voice cracked upon realizing you indeed had nothing else besides the hope to be reunited with your biological dad.

Sang-woo halted, his back facing you as he seemed to elaborate what you had just said. Each second passing without an answer hurt you, so much that the droplets of water splashing on your face, on your clothes felt like boiling lava sizzling your skin.

Maybe, your life was about to change. Your destiny was all in this man’s hands.

“He already has a family. If you love your father, you should keep your distance. He lived perfectly fine without you until now. Would you really want to disrupt his peace and bear the burden of having ruined his life?” he deadpanned, before walking off with your shattered heart in his hand and leaving a desolation behind him.

The only audible sound was the rain pattering against the parked cars, over your skin, on the skyscrapers. It hurt. It hurt immensely. You wondered if, amidst the soothing sound of the water cascading steadily from the sky, Cho Sang-woo had heard a far way different sound. The horrible noise of a fragile heart exploding into splinters so tiny they could not be put together again.

Your first impulse was to chase after him, shout at his face you deserved to be happy too, that this was not his damn business. Your feet, though, did not move. They were glued to the ground, they were one thing with the asphalt. Your fingers twitched, your father’s photograph slipping through them, landing on a puddle.

The following days went on monotonously. You no longer bothered searching for him. Even if you knew Mr. Cho had no saying in your life, he had truly left you with so many doubts and, maybe, he had a point. If your father was happy, you had no right to destroy his life, his relationship with his wife and traumatize your step-siblings. All you did was studying, bonding with your classmates and, occasionally, joining them to some parties.

It was once again a Saturday night, when you found yourself in a discotheque. The famous Nb2 Club, located in Hongdae, was swarmed with people dancing. Most of them were drunk, out of their minds, fornicating with strangers. You, on the other hand, were not really in the good state of mind to drink your problems away. After a single shot to celebrate the birthday girl, you had incessantly tried to find an excuse to leave. Unfortunately, though, you had been dragged to the dance floor and you were now desperately trying to districate yourself out of that sea of tipsy people swaying around.

The neon lights in the dimly illuminated room made it hardly feasible to individuate the exit. You kept on pushing people around, elbowing your way to the stairs, until you whipped your head around and you froze solid.

This must have been an hallucination.

Or this is the lie you told yourself, when a flash of red lights flickered over a man in a suit. A man you knew. A man you did not expect to run into once again, especially in place like this. Your life was an entire circus.

You were petrified, more out of shock, than the embarrassment you had felt during your first encounter. You had thought about it for days, unable to get that stupid grin of his out of your head. You blinked, skeptically staring at that shadow, until the man was struck by the light again. You had even approached him, standing only a palm away from his towering figure, as you found out once again that he was already grinning down at you. Bloody Hell, he was really there.

Your fake boyfriend for a night. The man you had insulted, hoping he did not speak italian.

“Buonasera, signorina ³” he greeted you, cold sweat collecting in the back of your neck, as you stupidly looked up at him.

You did not even have an idea of how you had successfully heard him, but you did. Handsome as the last time you had met him, he did not have his briefcase with him, but he had opted for yet another set of suit and tie. You sighed, darting your eyes away in nervousness. You did not feel underdressed this time. Still, your choice of clothes was what your roommate had labeled as ‘dressed to kill any man’.

You were showing a lot of cleavage and your short black dress barely reached your upper thighs.

“What are you doing here?” you asked him then, careful to ignore his provocation.

“I could ask you the same question, ma’am. Hopefully, you are not chasing down your father alone again”.

You rolled your eyes, gesturing at your high heels “Fair enough. To answer your question, definitely not. I was actually trying to leave this place. My feet are stinging” you decided to say, noticing his dark eyes travelling down your form, before factually inspecting your feet.

He smiled again “By sheer coincidence, I was leaving too. I had a business meeting, but it’s concluded. Would you like for me to lead you out of here? I know about a secondary exit easy to reach” he suggested, chivalrously holding his hand out for you to grasp.

This was hazardous, but he seemed to be genuine. Just like that Saturday night. He had saved you, he had been polite. Only a little too cocky, but not mischivious. Once out, you could always call a taxi and go back to your dorm. You decided to trust him, your smaller hand gripping his delicately as you glanced at your group of friends one last time, before nodding at him.

“Please, lead the way” you agreed, a faint smile gracing your red-painted lips, as he glared at a couple of people occupying the access to a corridor and walked past them without any qualms of the possible consequences.

You just followed him, inhaling deeply as he opened a door and let you step outside first. The chilly air of the night bit your skin, goosebumps raising on your flesh as you folded your arms against your chest to warm yourself up out of reflex. You were suprisingly at the end of the line of people waiting to enter, fortunately already on the main street. You sighed, turning towards him with yet another small smile on your lips.

“Thanks. Apparently, you have a knack for saving me in different situations” you noted, bowing your head a little, as he closed the door behind himself.

The businessman straightened his back “Perhaps. — he replied, eyeing your shivering form in interest — What are you going to do now?”.

“Just calling a taxi and spending the rest of the night at my dorm”.

“A taxi? It’s pretty late. We’re at Hongdae. I don’t think there’s a driver available, miss. — he reasoned, hand slithering into the pocket of his slacks, a clinking sound catching your attention — My car’s parked nearby. I could easily drive you home” he offered, dark eyes devouring yours in a subtle dance of attraction. He was way too discreet and smooth, but you were not a fool.

He had not said anything compromising, yet he had piqued your interest and, definitely, your whole attention. The question was: did you want to play along? Probably, it was not a good idea. He was older, more than twenty years older than you. Still, he had been kind to you. He had offered you protection that night, he had helped you out of the disco. He was charming. And, admittedly, you were also touch-starved and, horribly, lonely.

But you knew he was not going to do anything for free.

You looked at your feet, nervously sinking your foreteeth in your bottom lip “Where’s the catch?”.

He tilted his head to the side, pulling his hand holding the keys out of his pocket “I wouldn’t call it a ‘catch’. But, actually, I was hoping to treat you with a glass of fine wine. Obviously, if you agree” he confessed, not batting an eye and awaiting patiently for you to make up your mind.

Wine. Alone with him.

“Where?” you asked him then, heart inexplicably skipping a beat the moment shrugged his jacket off of his shoulders and elegantly draped it over your naked ones. His cologne, just like that night, pierced your nostrils and you let out an imperceptible sigh at the comforting feeling of someone actually looking out for you.

“My apartment”.

Shit. Well, you knew the risks of following a man home. But you were young, free, with some experience at your back. Why not letting loose once ever in your life?

“And the brand of the wine?” you inquired, only for him to smile wider at you. He was effortlessly handsome.

“What about a Chianti? I’m sure you know this one”.

“Don’t make me regret it”.

You had not really paid attention to the road. He drove you safely to yet another part of the city you were not familiar with, charming you with his impeccable portamento behavior and a refined taste in music. He knew some italian words because he liked Opera.

You spent the time in the car listening to Rossini, Verdi and Puccini. Gradually, you relaxed in his presence and, before you knew it, you were sitting on the leather couch of his living room. A goblet of half-finished Chianti in your hand, you were conversing with him about your struggles to adapt to the Country.

Talking to him was easy. Too easy. Were you really that surprised you even told him about your progresses with your research for your father? Not really.

“The main issue was the language. Not everyone speaks English and… You are the only person I have met who understands some italian” you told him, watching him swirl the remaining wine in his goblet absent-mindedly.

He had loosened his necktie, the jacket he had lended to you now discarded on armrest of the sofa. His dark eyes glinted in something you failed to fully comprehend. He did not seem inhebriated, not yet. But rather passionate, as he took a sip from his glass before settling it down on the glass coffee table at his feet.

You mimicked his actions, tiredly accomodating yourself against the soft backrest. He hummed, shifting on his seat and deliberately sliding closer to you. Your head was reclined, the illumination casting enticing shadows over his face. You felt almost ashamed for the desire you felt for him, for a complete stranger.

“You have improved in Korean, though. Practice leads to progresses— he noted, his hot breath wafting over your face like a gloved stroke on your cheek — Aren’t you dying to go back to Mr. Cho and tell him in a perfect Korean that he is not in the position to judge you?”.

You chuckled this time, eyes closing “If I were to do that, I would not be that polite and formal”.

“But elegance suits you, ma’am. Foul language is not necessary to manifest your anger” he chided you, probably in paternalistic way you found odd, but not out of place.

“Homicide is illegal” you pointed out, your sarcasm and dark humor rolling out of your tongue like your second language.

He hesitated for a split second, his lips curving in a smirk at your remark. He glanced at his wristwatch briefly, before his eyes searched for yours again “It’s three in the morning. Would you like for me to take you back home?”.

He was giving you a choice. He had not touched you inappropriately, he had merely sat close to you, offered you wine, let you take some pent up frustration out by listening to your story silently. He had been an absolute gentleman. Maybe, this was the reason why you scooted even closer to him, hand gently resting over his to stop him.

Your noses brushed together, tentatively experimenting what it would have felt like to breathe him in. He reached his hand up, cupping your cheek and angling your head in a optimal position to let your lips lock. You held your breath, half-lidded eyes boring into his, dilated, lust filled.

“Is that a no?”.

You swallowed thickly “Affermative, sir”.

He hummed, tongue sweeping out of his mouth to lick your lips, tasting you, before finally opening his mouth and involving you in a slow, intimate kiss you had long forgotten could give butterflies to your stomach. He was a good kisser. His large free hand travelling down your curves, squeezing you hip to prompt you to straddle his lap.

You did not break the kiss, a soft moan leaving your mouth, when he bucked his hips up and pressed you down on his crotch.

“How far can I go?” he asked you huskily, your spine arching when he began to leave a trail of open-mouthed kisses down the curve of your neck.

Oh, sweet God, you had lost your capacity of speaking.

Rolling your hips down to meet his movements, you whined and ran your fingers through his thick hair, pulling on the strands as he raised the hem of your skirt to expose your lower regions entirely.

“I don’t mind…” you mumbled, flicking your gaze down to meet his black-pitch orbs. You were screwed.

His hand slipped hastily beneath the fabric of your underwear, deft fingers seeking and finding your clitoris. He flicked it expertily, groaning softly at your wetness coating his digits. You were soaked, needy whimpers of pleasure escaping your parted lips as you felt your hole clenching around nothing, until he began to tease the entrance.

You cried out in bliss, his index sliding in without meeting resistance, soon followed by a second finger. The stretch was good, nothing compared to your own touch or the ones from your previous partners. He knew what pace drove you insane, what you liked, your body language was the equivalent of an opened book to him.

“Flawless” he whispered in your ear.

You wanted to moan out his name, but you realized you both had not introduced yourselves yet. He thrusted his fingers up in your core, thumb rubbing your throbbing clitoris as you panted above his head.

“W-What’s your name?” you breathed out, glossy eyes peering down at him.

He did not answer, instead biting the tender spot between your jawline and your neck. It was enough, your body had enough. Your inner walls clenched tightly around his fingers, body jerking, as your orgasm hit you like a violent wave crashing against the shore. You trembled, body slumping against his as he enclosed your waist in his arms. His lips grazed the shell of your ear, a feather-like kiss sending frissons over your body.

“I got you, Y/N”.

AUTHOR NOTE.

Hello there and thank you for having read my work. This is the first chapter of a new series I have come up with for Squid Game. The main couple will be The Salesman x reader, but I don’t and can’t promise you won’t see a glimpse of another pair throughout the story. It won’t obviously last, because well… It’s a Salesman x reader story. The title “Il nome mio nessun saprà” translated as “No one will know my name” is taken from the song played by the Salesman during the Russian roulette game with the two former loan sharks. Comments and opinions are greatly appreciated!

Love,

Luce

VOCABULARY.

1. Non tutti sono ricchi come te: not everyone is as rich as you are;

2. Buona fortuna: good luck;

3. Buonasera, signorina: good evening, miss.

CREDITS FOR THE DIVIDERS: @cafekitsune

#the salesman x reader #the salesman smut #salesman x reader #salesman smut #the recruiter x reader #recruiter x reader #squid game smut #squid game x reader #salesman x you #gi hun x reader #seong gi hun x reader #the salesman x you #squid games x reader #squid games smut #gong yoo smut #gong yoo x reader

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