#happy new year anon❤️ | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

springtyme · 1 year ago

Note

Hi Sage! I was so happy when I saw you are gonna write for criminal minds! Can I request some soft smut with Spencer? Maybe his and reader’s first time together, they have to share a bed on a case or something like that. I love your writing so much and I would love to see how you’d write Spence ❤️ thank you for sharing your writing!!

𝐋𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 ♡

Thank you so much for the sweet words and the lovely request dear anon! ♡ I had such a good time writing this, and I can't wait to write more for Spencer!

Spencer Reid x afab!reader || Masterlist || Spencer playlist

summary: Having to share a room with one of your fellow BAU agents is not an uncommon occurrence, and that agent being Spencer is not new either. The two of you have roomed together on multiple occasions before, but all previous instances have been different from this one. In all those prior cases, you both had separate beds, but not this time.

word count: 7.3k

warning/tags: Smut! (18+, mdni!) Mutual pining. Friends/colleagues to lovers. Idiots in love. Slightly awkward. A hint of angst, but mostly just fluff. Nightmares. Wet dreams. Inexperienced (but not virgin) Spencer. Vaginal fingering. Unprotected p in v. Creampie. I haven’t had time to proofread so sorry if there’s any mistakes.

In many ways the room is about as ordinary as any small town hotel room can be. However, one aspect instantly catches your attention upon opening the door - the room only has one bed…

As you step further into the room, you exchange a bewildered glance with Spencer, both unsure of how to proceed. It is a big bed, more than enough room for the both of you to be able to sleep comfortably next to each other, but despite how good of friends you and Spencer are, something about it feels weirdly intimate.

Having to room with one of your fellow BAU agents on cases is not uncommon, and sharing a room with Spencer isn’t new either. The two of you have roomed together on multiple occasions before, but previous instances were distinct from this one. In all those prior times, you both had separate beds.

“I, uhm… I can sleep on the floor,” Spencer suggests tentatively, breaking the silence that had filled the room. His voice is hesitant, almost as if he’s apprehensive about suggesting such a thing.

You look at him, noticing the slight blush on his cheeks as he avoids eye contact. It is clear that he doesn’t want to inconvenience you or make you feel uncomfortable by overstepping any boundaries.

But there is absolutely no way that you’re going to let Spencer sleep on the cold, hard floor, especially after a long day of chasing down an UnSub. “You’re not sleeping on the floor, Spence,” you protest, shaking your head gently. “There is more than enough room on the bed; we can put some pillows between us if that’ll make you more comfortable,” you suggest. You can see his apprehension, his discomfort at the idea of encroaching on your personal space.

In a way it’s very sweet, you know Spencer well, and you know how little he would enjoy lying on the floor, yet he is willing to give up his own comfort for you.

But at the same time you can’t help but feel a little pang of… Of what exactly you’re not sure. Disappointment maybe, or even longing? And a little irrational fear that maybe he actually finds sleeping next to you so uncomfortable that he would prefer the floor.

You have tried to suppress your feelings for Spencer for a long time, you have had a crush on him from the moment you first joined the BAU three years ago, but the more you got to know him, and the deeper your friendship deepend the deeper your feelings for him also grew.

You know that you’re being irrational, but you can’t help but wonder if Spencer actually feels uncomfortable by the idea of sharing a bed with you or if it’s something else entirely. As you continue to stare at him, hoping for a clue, Spencer nervously fidgets with the strap of his bag which he still hasn’t put down.

“Sure, pillows…” he finally speaks, his voice trailing off. You can tell he’s hesitant, it’s clear that the idea of sharing a bed with you is not something he had anticipated or prepared for.

You take a step closer to Spencer, trying to ease the tension that has settled between you. “Spencer, it’s going to be okay. We’ve slept in the same room many times before, remember? This is just a little different, but I’ll promise to stay on my side of the bed,” you assure him, offering a small smile.

Spencer glances over at you, his eyes meeting yours for a brief moment before he takes a deep breath andnodding slowly as he finally sets his bag down and starts to remove his jacket. His movements are deliberate, almost mechanical, as if he’s trying to distract himself from the tension in the room. Lost in your thoughts, you find yourself stealing glances at him. You watch his every movement, wondering if there’s more to his unease than just sharing a bed. As he hangs his jacket neatly on the back of a chair, you can’t help but notice the way his fingers tremble ever so slightly.

“Do you want the bathroom first?” you ask, trying to break the silence and bring some normalcy back into the situation. Spencer looks up at you, his eyes reflecting gratitude for the distraction.

“Uh, yeah, that sounds good,” he replies, his voice slightly shaky. He walks past you towards the bathroom, his steps quick and purposeful.

While he’s in the bathroom, you take a moment to collect your thoughts, as you start to take out your pajamas and toiletries from your bag before going over to the bed, placing a few pillows in a row in the middle of the mattress. The tension in the room is palpable, and you can’t help but wonder if there’s something more going on with Spencer. You’ve always had a strong connection with him, but lately, there have been moments when you’ve sensed a shift in his behavior towards you. It’s hard to put into words, but there’s a certain longing and vulnerability that seems to surface whenever you’re together.

As you ponder these thoughts, Spencer emerges from the bathroom. He’s changed into his pajamas, checkered flannel bottoms and a long sleeved cotton t-shirt, his hair damp from his shower. You can’t help but notice how adorable he looks. There is something so soft looking over him like this, almost domestic and your heart skips a beat.

“Your turn,” he says softly, gesturing towards the bathroom. You nod and make your way inside, trying to steady your own racing heart.

The warm water from the shower helps to calm your nerves, but your mind is still filled with questions. What if there’s a chance that Spencer feels the same way? What if this shared bed situation could bring you closer together?

You finish your shower and step out, wrapping a towel around yourself. As you reach for your pajamas, you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. You take a deep breath, reminding yourself to stay calm and not let your emotions get the best of you, yes you have developed feelings for Spencer but first and foremost he is your friend and, and you can’t start assuming things. He is allowed to find sharing a bed with you awkward.

When you return to the room, Spencer is already tucked into one side of the bed, the one closest to the door, his back turned towards you, and you can’t help but notice that he is far closer to the edge of the mattress than he needs to be. The only light in the room now coming from the bedside lamp on the side of the bed that has been assigned to you by Spencer.

You quietly slip into your side, letting the heavy comforter cover your body as you lay down on your back, looking over at Spencer’s back for a short moment before looking back up into the ceiling.

The proximity between you is both exhilarating and nerve-wracking, as you lie there, so close to each other yet so far away. You take a deep breath before you break the silence once again. “Ready to turn off the light?”

Spencer shifts slightly, his voice barely above a whisper as he responds, “Yeah, sure.” You reach over and switch off your lamp, plunging the room into darkness. The only source of light now is the faint glow of moonlight coming shining through the blinds.

As you lay there, your mind starts to wander, replaying all the moments you’ve shared with Spencer over the years. The late-night conversations, the shared laughter, the times he’s been there for you when you needed someone the most. Each memory fills you with a mixture of warmth and longing.

“Good night, Spence,” you utter softly into the darkness,

“Night,” he replies, his voice barely audible in the quiet space and the room falls silent once again.

You let out the softest of sighs as you close your eyes, finally letting yourself feel how tired you really are, slowly letting yourself try to surrender to sleep.

· · ·

It’s still dark in the room as you wake up, only an hour or two have passed since you fell asleep, and for just about half a second you get to wonder what had woken you so abruptly before the reason becomes clear to you.

It is Spencer who woke you. In the dimly lit room, his agitated body twists and contorts restlessly next to you. You turn around so you’re facing him, propping yourself up on your elbow so you’re slightly hovering over him, the darkness of the room shadowing his face, but as your eyes get used to the dark you notice the beads of sweat glistening on his forehead, his eyebrows knitted and his breathing erratic and shallow.

Unintelligible, fearful murmurs escape his lips, carrying traces of an impending terror. With a gentle touch, you place your hand on his shoulder, hoping to offer some comfort as you try to gently pull him out of his nightmare.

“Spencer,” you say softly. “Spencer, wake up.”

His eyes fly open, wide with fear, his gaze darting around for a second or two, before they lock with yours which seems to calm him down a little. -

“I’m sorry, I woke you,” he mutters, his rapid breathing slowly coming under control.

“Spence, it’s okay, I get them too,” you remind him. “We all do.”

“I-I know… this one was just so real…” Spencer takes a moment, his brows knitted as if he’s contemplating whether to share the details or simply let the disturbing dream fade away. “You were there,” he finally says, taking a deep breath before continuing, “I couldn’t get to you in time, I-I kept running but I didn’t get any closer a-and…” but then he stops, like he can’t get himself to continue.

You feel how your heart clenches at his words, he had a nightmare about you…

“Well, I’m right here, and I’m okay,” you reassure him, offering a soft smile before you place a gentle hand on his shoulder as if to emphasize your statement, hoping to offer some comfort.

He places his own hand on top of yours, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“You think you can go back to sleep?” you ask him as you finally remove your hand from his shoulder.

“Yeah, I think so,” he says and the two of you both lay back down on the mattress, but a short silence falls over the room before Spencer speaks again. “Would it be okay if we removed the pillows?”

“Of course,” you whisper back, removing the pillows. There is still a decent gap between you, but the cushioned wall is now gone. You yearn to close the gap, wanting to reach out for him, to comfort him with an embrace, but you just stay on your side of the bed. This can be enough, you can live with just being his friend, despite how your heart yearns for more.

“Goodnight,” Spencer whispers, now laying on his back instead of facing away from you like last time you said goodnight.

“Goodnight,” you whisper back, “and, Spence?” you add.

“Yeah?”

“Remember you can always talk to me if you need it, I know how it feels.”

A beat of silence. “Yeah, I know, and thank you, it’s really nice to know that.”

You let out a soft sigh as you finally close your eyes again. “Of course, that is what friends are for.”

“Yeah, friends…” he mumbles, so low you barely hear it.

But you do hear it, and you ponder over it a little as you again begin to slowly drift off to sleep, and as you find yourself in the liminal space between wakefulness and slumber. Each breath you take seems to synchronize with Spencer’s soft breathing. In the darkness, your thoughts become even more encompassed by the draw you feel towards him, the yearning to hold him, to be held by him.

Suddenly, you feel a shift in the bed, and your heart skips a beat. Did Spencer just move closer to you? You open your eyes to find him curled up, facing your direction. His features softened, no longer affected by his nightmare, but now relaxed in sleep. It takes all of your willpower not to reach out and touch his tousled curls, to trace the contours of his face.

But you don’t. You don’t want to risk jeopardizing the friendship you share. As much as you yearn for more, you’re determined not to overstep any boundaries.

With a heavy sigh, you turn away from Spencer, facing the wall instead. Your emotions are in disarray, swirling within you like a tempestuous storm. The closeness you currently have, even if it’s just a hair’s breadth away, feels agonizingly bittersweet.

As you drift closer to sleep, nestled in the comfort of the bed, you feel a sense of contentment and tranquility. Despite the uncertainty and longing, there is solace in the silent presence of Spencer beside you. And for now, that is enough.

· · ·

You are stirred from sleep once again later in the night. This time, it is a gradual, more peaceful transition into consciousness. A sense of warmth and snugness engulfing you, making you fill with a sense of complete safety and comfort, your eyes still closed and your mind still groggy from sleep.

As you slowly emerge from your drowsy state, it takes a moment for you to identify the source of your comfort. As time passes, and you’re pulled enough out of your sleepy daze you start to become aware of the gentle movements against your body, and you start to perceive the muffled sounds emanating from beside you, and confusion is washing over you for a short moment before you remember where you are. Remembering that you’re in a hotel room in a small town in Nebraska, a hotel room which you’re sharing with Spencer, a hotel room that only has one bed…

Your eyes flutter open as Spencer’s arms squeeze you a little tighter, your back is pressed up against his chest and your legs are tangled under the warm covers. His steady breath gently fan the back of your neck, his lips ghosting over your skin, grazing just over your pulse point.

And it is now, as you are being pressed tight up against him, that you feel it. How he gently is rocking against you. How the outline of his hard cock is pressing against the curve of your ass. You let out a faint gasp, as a warm shiver runs through you right down to your now throbbing cunt.

Your heart skips a beat, overwhelmed by the intensity of this unexpected intimacy from Spencer. You are not completely sure what to do, what Spencer would prefer you to do in this situation. There is no way you’re gonna be able to wiggle out of his embrace without risking waking him. You should probably wake him, right?

You can’t believe that this is really happening, that you really are in this position with Spencer right now. But you know that you can’t read too much into it, that people just get wet dreams sometimes, that this is just a physical reaction. He didn’t even want to share the bed with you in the first place, and you were the one who insisted on it. As much as you dread having to face him in this position, you really should wake him.

You know Spencer, you know that he will feel embarrassed when you wake him, but it will be nowhere near as bad as the betrayal he will feel if he finds out that you didn’t stop this.

Taking a deep breath, you start to gently nudge Spencer awake, careful not to startle him. “Spencer,” you say gently, slightly wiggling in his embrace as you try to face him. “Spencer, wake up.”

As he stirs, his eyes flutter open, and he looks at you with a mixture of confusion and sleepiness, before a look of absolute horror overtakes his face, his eyes filling with panic. His embrace immediately loosens, and he quickly pulls away from you. The distance between your bodies, making you feel a sudden pang of emptiness as he bolts off the bed.

“I- I’m so sorry,” he stutters, his voice frantic. “I don't know what came over me. This isn’t... I didn’t mean to…” His words trail off, and he looks utterly mortified.

“Spence, it’s okay,” you try to reassure him, watching as he begins to pace back and forth in the small room, and start to gather his belongings, his eyes darting around the room anxiously, as if searching for an escape. “Spencer?” you try again, hoping to bring him back from the edge of his spiraling thoughts. You get out of the bed, your bare feet hitting the cold floorboards.

But Spencer doesn’t seem to even hear you, he just grabs his bag and starts stuffing his belongings inside, his movements frantic and uncoordinated. “I-I’ll leave,” he begins, his voice strained with guilt and embarrassment.

“Spencer, please,” you say softly, stepping around the bed to get to him. “You don’t have to leave.”

He is halfway through the bathroom door by now, his bag dropping from his shoulder. Tears are pooling in his eyes, his expression tortured. “I can’t stay,” he says, his voice quivering. “I made you uncomfortable...”

“Spence,” you try again, now standing only a few steps from him.

“No… I made you uncomfortable, and I-I’m so sorry, I just- I mean- or no, I didn’t mean…” he begins to ramble before giving up and burying his face in his hands.

Your heart aches at his words, at the pain in his eyes. You never wanted this to happen, never wanted to make him feel like this. “Spence, you could never make me uncomfortable” you say, trying to keep your voice as steady and comforting as you can, your heart thumping loudly in your chest.

“You don’t have to say that,” he begins, but you cut him off before he can start spiraling even more than he already is.

“I do, Spence, cause it’s true. You haven’t made me uncomfortable, okay?” you need him to believe you, you are colleagues and you’ll have to see each other everyday, but also, and more importantly, he is your friend and he means so much to you, you just can’t lose him. “You didn’t make me uncomfortable. I promise. Please, look at me.”

You take a step closer to Spencer, reaching out for him, gently placing your hand on his trembling shoulder. Sensing the depth of his distress, you speak softly, attempting to soothe him further, and he finally looks at you, his damp eyes filled with shame and embarrassment.

“I... I didn’t mean for this to happen,” he stammers, his voice shaky. “I never wanted to make you uncomfortable or take advantage of you. I don’t even know why I…”

You interrupt him gently, placing a hand on his cheek to bring his attention back to you. “Spencer, listen to me. It’s alright.”

He searches your eyes, seeking reassurance. A moment passes before he finally speaks. “Are you sure it’s alright?” vulnerability shining through his words.

“Yes, Spence… It’s alright,” you feel sad, because as selfish as it is, you do wish your words weren’t true, wish that it did mean something, but you have to ignore that for now. It’s not fair to be selfish right now, what you need is to comfort Spencer and reassure him that it’s okay. You have to ignore how good it felt to feel him against your body, having him grinding against you, having his lean arms around you…

“What happened... It was just a physical reaction and I don’t hold it against you. I know you didn’t mean for it to happen, and it’s not like you can control your dreams,” you offer him a small smile, one that you hope will convince him that you mean what you’re saying, but it feels bittersweet as you say your next words. “I know it didn’t mean anything.”

Spencer’s shoulders visibly slump as he absorbs your words. He still looks deeply conflicted, but your reassurance seems to have calmed him down slightly. “That’s not true…” he murmurs, he sounds unsure, almost shy as he says it, yet there is a determination flickering in his hazel brown eyes.

That’s not true..? You wonder if he is going to disagree with your statement about not being able to control dreams and launch into an extensive explanation of the technicalities of lucid dreaming, but what he says instead makes your heart flutter and fills you with a sense of hope. “It did mean something,” he admits, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your breath catches in your throat at his words. The room feels charged with tension, the air thick with uncertainty. You take a step closer to him, your hand still resting gently on his cheek. “Spencer, what do you mean?” you ask, your voice soft and filled with curiosity. And a realization courses through your body, he didn’t just have a wet dream, he had a wet dream about you…

He takes a deep breath, his eyes locked with yours. “You mean so much to me. My dreams, my nightmares, my…” he trails off, a pink blush spreading across his cheeks, my wet dreams, his blush is telling. “My waking thoughts, they always end up being about you.”

You feel your heart swell, a mix of excitement and nervousness bubbling within you. Spencer’s words hang in the air, leaving you momentarily breathless. Unable to contain your own feelings any longer. You close the last distance between you, so close that you now can feel the heat radiating from his body, your hand sliding from his cheek to the back of his neck. Your touch is gentle, craving a connection, desperate to convey your own emotions. “Spencer,” you whisper, your voice filled with a tenderness you can no longer hide. “It’s the same for me.”

Spencer’s eyes widen in surprise, his breath hitching in his throat. It takes a moment for his words to find their way back to him. “You...you feel the same way?” he says, almost breathlessly, his eyes searching yours for any sign of deception. “You’re not just saying this to make me feel better?”

You shake your head, your voice filled with sincerity. “No. I wouldn’t say this if I didn’t mean it.”

Relief floods his features, and a small smile tugs at the corners of his lips. His pretty, pretty lips which look so soft and so damn kissable… “Oh…” is all he manages to say, his voice filled with soft gentle wonder.

You can see how the weight is slowly lifting off of his shoulders, his eyes sparkling with a mixture of relief and happiness. He reaches out to take your free hand in his. He moves his other hand to your waist, at first not fully committing to the touch, his fingers gently ghosting over your pajamas, but with a soft smile of encouragement from you he gently places his palm against you, and his touch sends a wave of warmth through your body.

The room seems to shrink, the world outside becoming distant and irrelevant. At this moment, it’s like the two of you are the only two people left on this earth. Spencer’s lips part slightly, as if he wants to say something more, but the words remain trapped in his throat. Instead, he leans in, his breath mingling with yours, and then, his lips brush against yours in the softest, most tentative of kisses.

It’s a moment of pure vulnerability, and raw emotion. The kiss is a little hesitant at first yet filled with longing. The warmth of his lips against yours creates an electric current that surges through your entire body, igniting a fire within you. His arms wrap around your waist, pulling you closer to him, as if he never wants to let you go. The possessiveness in his touch sends a shiver down your spine, and you find yourself losing all sense of restraint.

In this moment, the world outside doesn’t matter. All that matters is the connection between you and Spencer, the warmth that courses through your veins with every touch and every kiss. You feel how heat is pooling in your stomach.

Your fingers tangle in his hair, lightly tugging on the wavy strands, making him gently moan into the kiss as your other hand finds its way to his face, caressing his cheeks as if trying to convey all the feelings you have bottled up inside.

The kiss deepens, becoming more passionate and desperate, as if both of you have been longing for this moment for far too long. It’s a dance of tongues and teeth, a melding of souls, and you can’t help but lose yourself in the sensations. The taste of his lips, the feeling of his hands on your waist, the way he pulls you closer as if he wants to merge your bodies into one.

Desire courses through you, igniting a fire within that consumes every rational thought. You press yourself flush against him, unable to stop your body from slowly grinding against him as the need for more contact intensifies, making Spencer moan into the kiss, which only makes your own desire for him grow even stronger. Every touch, every movement sends a jolt of anticipation through your body, the friction between you building a deliciously tantalizing tension.

The need for more becomes unbearable, but your lungs start to burn and you finally break the heated kiss to get a breath of air. His lips hovering mere inches from yours, his breath warm and ragged. The room is filled with thick tension as you lock eyes, the intensity between you crackling with electricity. You take a moment to steady your own breath before asking him, a little shyly, what you want to know the most in this moment. “Wanna tell me about your dream?”

Your words hang in the air, a challenge and an invitation, as you search his gaze for approval. He looks into your eyes, his own filled with a mix of desire and vulnerability. “How…” He takes a deep, steadying breath, before continuing. “How about I show you instead?”

You feel your heart skip a beat at his words, a rush of excitement and anticipation flooding through you. Without hesitation, you nod your head, your voice barely above a whisper as you respond, “I’d like that.”

You reach for his hand, guiding him towards the bed. As you lay down, he hovers above you, his eyes filled with a mixture of passion, desire, and a hint of vulnerability. The vulnerability only makes you want him more, to show him that the connection you both share is real, that it’s more than just a passing moment of lust.

You place a hand at the back of his neck, drawing him down towards you, and his lips meet yours in another fervent kiss. The weight of his body pressing against you sends a thrill through your veins, a delicious ache building between your thighs. You bring your legs up, wrapping them around him, making him let out a low grunt.

His mouth leaves your lips to instead trail down along your jawline, down your neck, leaving a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses in their wake. His movements start out slightly clumsy, but he is very quick to adapt and adjust, finding a rhythm that suits both of you. You tilt your head back, giving him better access, surrendering yourself to the pleasure that ripples through your body with each touch of his lips. His hands move up the sides of your body, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

“Fuck, Spence,” you whine. Your fingers thread through his hair, tugging gently, urging him on. His lips find their way to your collarbone, and he nips at the sensitive flesh, causing a gasp to escape your lips. The sensation sends a jolt straight to your core, and you can feel yourself growing wetter and wetter with desire for him.

His fingers dip beneath the hem of your shirt, skimming along the curve of your waist, his touch leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. You arch your back, silently begging for more, and he obliges, his hands slipping further up until they find your breasts, his thumbs rubbing softly over your hardened nipples. A low moan escapes your mouth, and his lips find yours once again, swallowing the sound and pouring his own desire into the kiss before pulling away to speak. “We… we weren’t wearing this much clothes… In my dream.”

As the words tumble from his lips, you feel a surge of anticipation flood through you. The desire to match his dream, to fulfill his fantasies, takes hold of you. With a breathless chuckle, followed by an encouraging smile you nod and begin to undo the buttons of your pajama shirt, slowly revealing your bare skin to his hungry gaze. His eyes darken with desire as he watches the fabric slip off your shoulders and expose your breasts fully to him.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, his voice filled with awe and reverence.

Spencer’s hands tremble slightly as he reaches out, gently cupping your breasts, his touch sending shivers down your spine. His eyes never leave yours as he experiments with different pressures and strokes, learning the map of your body through touch. Each caress sets you ablaze, igniting a fire within you that only he can satisfy.

“I...I never imagined this could be real,” Spencer admits, his voice laced with awe and reverence. “To have you like this, to be able to touch you, it’s beyond anything I ever dreamed of.”

His words melt into the air, caressing your senses as you guide his hands down your body, your breath hitching with each movement. The heat between your legs intensifies, the ache growing unbearable as his fingers brush against your heated, still covered core.

“Then let’s get rid of the rest of our clothes,” you whisper, your voice filled with anticipation and desire. With shaking hands, you help Spencer undress, removing his shirt and pants after he has shed you of your own pants.

The air is thick with tension, as the only things that are now covering the two of you being your own panties and Spencer’s gray boxer briefs. You swallow, the sight of him making a hot shiver run through your body, right down to your throbbing cunt, making you squeeze your thighs together. The imposing size of the bulge in his underwear only adds to the anticipation that swirls inside you. The dark spot of precum on the gray cotton, making you drool and without a second thought, you slide your hand down to where his arousal strains against the garment, palming him gently through the fabric, a low groan escapes his lips, the sound music to your ears.

“Shouldn’t we get these off too?” Your voice takes on a sultry tone as you gently squeeze him through his underwear.

Another groan, this one a little more whiny, falls from his lips, as he nods eagerly.

You let out a gasp as he follows your suggestion, and slides off this last item of clothing. His hard cock springs free, hitting his stomach. He is big, thick and throbbing with a bead of precum at the tip that you would love to lick off of him. You have never seen a more mouthwatering cock in your life, and if it wasn’t because you were so damn desperate to have him inside of you, you would get on your knees and choke on him in this instant. “Has anyone ever told you that you have a really pretty cock, Spence?”

“N-no…”

“Well, you do,” you assure him. Spencer’s cheeks flush by your bold compliment as you reach out for him. “Now come here, pretty boy,” you say, pulling him down on you again and he doesn’t hesitate, capturing your lips once again, but not before telling you how beautiful you are.

“Can’t concentrate sometimes, you’re so beautiful, it’s distracting,” he murmurs between kisses. “And you’re always so sweet to me, to everyone, and so fucking sexy,” he whispers against your lips. The warmth of his breath sends a shiver down your spine, intensifying the electricity between you.

You smile into the kiss, feeling an overwhelming surge of affection for Spencer. His words touch a deep, insecure part of your heart that you rarely expose to anyone. It’s moments like these when you realize just how lucky you are to have him in your life, and how deeply you want him to play an even bigger role than he already does.

Breaking away from the kiss, you gaze into Spencer’s expressive eyes, his pupils blown wide with lust and affection. “I could say all that about you too, you know” you confess, sincerity lacing your voice as you bring your hand up to push a stray curl away from his face. “You can be very distracting too, Dr. Reid,” you whisper, a mischievous glint in your eyes as you gently rut your clothed pussy up against his erection as you address him by his title.

A desperate grunt escapes his lips as he feels the friction between your bodies. He leans his forehead against yours, his voice husky with anticipation. “God, you have no idea how badly I want you,” he breathes, his voice thick with desire. You can feel his body trembling against yours, the need radiating off of him in waves.

“Me too, Spence,” you pant, you are now grinding against him in a slow, sloppy rhythm, “need to have you inside of me so bad.” you confess. “Do you have a condom?”

Spencer’s eyes widen slightly at your question, a mix of desire and concern flickering across his face. “No… I didn’t think... I-I mean, it’s not something I… I didn’t expect...this,” Spencer stammers, his cheeks turning pink. “I didn’t think we would…”

“It’s okay, Spencer,” you say, your voice filled with understanding, gently cupping his face in your hands, you take a little pause before continuing, “I’m on birth control, and I’m clean... so if you want…” you trail off, wanting him to be the one to make the decision

Spencer takes a moment to process your words, his expression shifting from surprise to relief. He exhales a shaky breath, his eyes searching yours for reassurance. “I-I’ve never done this without a condom…” he confesses, blushing even more, “not that I’ve done this a whole lot…” he says, his voice filled with vulnerability.

You have been unsure about how experienced Spencer is but his honesty and vulnerability only make you appreciate him more. You stroke his cheek gently, comforting him with your touch. You are just about to tell him that it is okay, and that you don’t have to do anything he is not ready for and that you can stop if he isn’t feeling like doing this anymore, but Spencer speaks before you have a chance to say any of this.

“But I want to do it all with you,” he says, his voice filled with determination and longing. “I trust you.”

His words send a surge of warmth through your body, a reassurance that he is fully committed to this moment and to exploring the depths of your connection. You lean in, capturing his lips in a deep, passionate kiss, conveying both your love and desire for him.

Now that you finally know how it feels to kiss him after having pondered over it for so long you just can’t stop, his lips too intoxicating, too addictive. “I trust you too, Spence,”you murmur against his lips, your voice laden with affection and honesty as you spread your legs, inviting him to take the next step.

Spencer’s eyes flicker with a mix of desire and admiration as he brings his hands down to skim over the thin, and by now soaked, fabric of your panties, you arch your back, silently begging for more.

A hungry expression dances over his features before he slides the fabric aside, his touch sending sparks of pleasure coursing through your veins. His fingers trail through the wetness already pooling between your legs, spreading out your arousal as he circles your clit. A shudder runs through you, your back arching off the mattress as pleasure courses through your veins. He continues to tease you, his touch feather-light yet impossibly intense.

“You’re so wet,” he says intrigued, and you find his fascination utterly endearing.

“Well, it’s all for you, Spence,” you moan in response as Spencer’s fingers glide over your slick folds, his touch becoming more purposeful and assertive. The anticipation builds inside you, a mixture of desire and nervous excitement. You watch Spencer’s face for any signs of hesitation or uncertainty, but all you find is a hunger that matches your own as he slides a finger inside of you. Your breath hitches as he curls his finger, hitting a spot deep inside that sends a wave of pleasure crashing through your body. You grip the sheets, your nails digging into the fabric as Spencer adds another finger, stretching you and filling you up.

The room fills with your moans and gasps, the sound of your pleasure mixing with the wet sounds of his fingers working you. You can feel your walls tightening around him, a signal that you’re close to the edge. Sensing your impending release, Spencer leans down, his lips finding yours in a searing kiss as he continues to thrust his fingers inside you. The combination of his touch and his kiss sends you spiraling over the edge, waves of ecstasy washing over you.

You cling to Spencer, your body trembling with pleasure as he guides you through your orgasm, his fingers never faltering in their movements. As your climax subsides, he withdraws his fingers slowly, his gaze locked with yours. You’re both panting, trying to catch your breath as the intensity of the moment washes over you.

“That was...amazing,” he whispers, his voice filled with awe. You smile, feeling a surge of pride and contentment wash over you.

“You’re amazing,” you reply, your voice filled with love.

“I want to be inside you so badly,” Spencer confesses, his voice filled with desire and urgency. His eyes bore into yours, pleading for your permission. You can see the vulnerability and longing in his gaze, making your heart swell with affection for him.

With a nod, you give him your consent, silently urging him to take the next step. and he gets up on his knees. His erection stands tall, glistening with anticipation. Taking a deep breath to steady himself, he slowly positions himself between your legs, his hands trembling slightly as he supports his weight above you, his gaze never leaving yours.

As he slowly enters you, a rush of pleasure courses through your body. Inch by inch, he fills you, stretching you in the most delicious way. A low moan escapes your lips, the sensation overwhelming yet incredibly satisfying. Spencer’s eyes never leave yours, his expression transitioning from concentration to blissful surrender.

Once he’s fully inside you, he pauses, allowing you both to savor the feeling of being intimately connected. You run your hands over his back, sending shivers down his spine as you guide him to start moving. With each thrust, waves of pleasure crash through you, igniting a fire that burns brightly between you.

“Spencer,” you whisper breathlessly, your voice filled with need, “you feel amazing.”

He whimpers in response, his rhythm picking up as both your bodies move in perfect synchronization. The sound of skin slapping against skin echoes through the room, a raw display of the passion simmering between you.

The room is filled with the sounds of your bodies colliding, the bed creaking in rhythm with your passionate movements. Spencer’s thrusts become deeper and more assertive, his movements guided by pure instinct and the desire to please you. He holds nothing back, giving himself to you completely.

“You’re so tight,” he groans, his voice filled with a mixture of pleasure and disbelief. “I’ve never felt anything like this before.”

You dig your nails into his back, urging him on. “Don’t hold back, Spencer,” you gasp, your voice laced with urgency. “Give it to me, all of it.”

Your hands roam his body, tracing the contours of his lean muscles, urging him on with every touch. His lips find yours in a desperate kiss, each one filled with a mixture of love, desire, and a hunger for more. The intensity of your connection drives you both toward the edge, pushing you closer and closer to the brink of ecstasy.

His thrusts become harder, deeper, and you cry out, overwhelmed by the sensations coursing through your body. Pleasure builds within you, radiating outwards in waves, threatening to consume you entirely.

“I’m close, Spence,” you manage to utter, your voice strained. “I’m so close.”

He increases his pace, his movements becoming erratic as he chases his own release. You can feel the tension coil within him, the way he desperately clings onto the edge, on the verge of falling. And then, as if in perfect unison, the dam breaks. The pleasure crashes over you both, engulfing you in a tidal wave of ecstasy. You can’t help but let out a series of desperate whines and moans as you feel the warmth of his release filling you up as he pumps you full of him, coating your walls with his cum. You cling to each other, riding out the waves of your orgasms, the walls of your pussy convulsing around his cock, your bodies trembling with the intensity of it all.

Spencer collapses onto you, his weight pressing you further into the mattress. You wrap your arms around him, holding him close, basking in the afterglow of your shared intimacy. As your breaths finally steady, he lifts his head and gazes into your eyes, a tender smile playing on his lips.

“That was... beyond words,” he murmurs, his voice filled with awe and reverence. “I’ve never felt this connected to someone before.”

You stroke his cheek lovingly, your own smile mirroring his. “Me neither, Spence.”

He leans down, capturing your lips in a gentle kiss, pouring all his adoration and gratitude into it.

And as you both lie tangled in each other’s arms, basking in the warmth and intimacy you have just experienced, a feeling of contentment washes over you. It is a feeling you have longed for, a feeling of being truly seen and accepted by another person, and you know that for a long time that longing has been for Spencer and only Spencer.

“I am so grateful for you, Spence,” you whisper, your voice filled with sincerity.

Spencer’s eyes softened, his gaze locking with yours. “Thank you for being patient with me. Before meeting you I honestly never thought I could feel so comfortable and safe with anyone.”

Tears well up in your eyes. The depth of emotion in his words touches you deeply. You lean in to capture his lips in a tender kiss, a kiss filled with love and gratitude.

Spencer shifts, gently pulling out of you and sliding to your side. He scoops you into his arms, holding you close to his chest. The rise and fall of his breath against your skin is soothing, creating a sense of comfort and security on a level that you have never felt before.

You curl up against him, your head resting on his shoulder. “I’m so happy there only was one bed,” you whisper, the words spilling from your heart without hesitation. Spencer presses a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“Me too,” he reply, his voice filled with emotion.

Thank you for reading! If you feel like it, please leave a comment or reblog to let me know what you thought ♡

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afterglowsainz · 1 month ago

Text

hoax | charles leclerc, alexandra saint mleux

pairing: charles leclerc x reader x alexandra saint mleux

summary: your relationship with charles and alexandra is affected when they want you to move to monaco with them but you just can’t leave new york

fc: gianna caldera

request: here

a/n: so similar to we used to have more i have this fic called the prophecy and i’ve been thinking about expanding on that plot idea for a while and then i got the request above and it all just kind of fell into place in my head so i hope you enjoy this mix of my original idea plus the anon request!

—

liked by charles_leclerc, alexandrasaintmleux and others

yourusername my lovely nyc 🩷

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username the topppp 😮‍💨

username everything she wears istg i’m omw to buy it

username most stylish wag (and alex ofc)

username i love the city girls vibes

username belongs in a museum

charles_leclerc pretty girl 😍

yourusername 😚

username y/n in the paddock again whennnn

username fr i need MORE of her paddock outfits

liked by yourusername, iamrebeccad and others

alexandrasaintmleux when in monaco 🍷

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username oh she came to serve

username the chanel earrings iconicccc

username how can you not say mother

username alex or the most gorgeous woman???

yourusername miss youuuu🥹 ly

alexandrasaintmleux my loveeee🫶🏽 we miss you too

username y/n and charles won frrrr

liked by lilymhe, lissiemackintosh and others

yourusername nights out🍸

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username i love her but i wish she was at the race :(

username no honestly her boyfriend races in her country three times a year and she can’t even attend ONE race?

username not a good look tbh

username theee nyc girlie

username no one new yorks the way y/n new yorks

username my daily inspo posted 🥰

username bestie take a plane to texas rn i’m begging!!

username serving face while eating pasta is the dream

liked by yourusername, carlossainz55 and others

charles_leclerc an evening in cota ❤️

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username CONGRATS CHARLES 🥳🥳

username such a lovely drive 🥹 completely deserved!

username YESSSS A WIN IN COTA

username so happy for him! wished his gf was there

username alex was literally right there?

username girl you know we’re talking about y/n

username fr her boyfriend wins and she can’t even show up 🙄

scuderiaferrari il predestinato 🫶🏽

liked by francisca.cgomes, flavy.barla and others

yourusername favourite place on earth 💚

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username ahhh parents are finally together 🥹🫶��

username so stylishhh

username the most fashion throuple

username you dropped this bestie 👑

username this DIVA 💜

username omg did she move to monaco? 🥺

username girl i HOPE

username nooo my nyc girlie dream 😭😭

username on the bright side, she would finally be closer to charles and alex 🥰

liked charles_leclerc, jade_distinguinn and others

alexandrasaintmleux i might just stay here🌴🌺

tagged yourusername

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username the prettiest

username i love when hot people date each other

username the complete sideline of charles 😭😭

username he is NOT the face of the relationship

username but can we talk about y/n finally going to a grand prix 🥹

username MOTHERS🫶🏽

charles_leclerc mon dieu 😩

alexandrasaintmleux 😚

liked by f1wags and others

f1gossip ferrari wag y/n y/l/n has unfollowed and deleted all her pictures with couple charles leclerc and alexandra saint mleux leading to the rumor of a breakup. charles and alexandra have not unfollowed her back neither have they deleted posts with her from their social media.

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username don’t even joke lad

username i refuse to accept this misinformation. (it’s true i just checked😩)

username absolutely not

username wtf happened they were just together in mexico 😭

username i’m not recovering from this anytime soon

username i’m going to pretend i didn’t see this and go on with my day

username jail time f1gossip this news had to be delivered to me a lot more nicely

f1gossip sorry we didn’t hold your hands when we said this 😔

liked by francisca.cgomes, arthur_leclerc and others

yourusername favorite place on earth🩷

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username mother came back 😭

username divorced this time

username not her saying this about charles and alex a few months ago 😭😭

username she is INSANE why would she use the same caption 😩

username so she didn’t even moved to monaco huh

username arthur liking this lol

username unrelated but i’m obsessed with all the winter outfits

username she ate with those

username i am not handling the breakup well and i’m not even her

username you will be missed in the paddock pookie 😔

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starkwlkr · 6 months ago

Note

Hi!! Can we have headcanons for all of the Jackman babies?

of course you can lovely anon 😘🫶🏼

alex

so he’s the firstborn and it’s canon that he was born in the year 2000 simply because i am so bad with dates (plus that’s the year my sister was born so it’s easy for me to remember)

he once told a girl at his school that his dad was wolverine to try to impress her and she didn’t believe him so he made hugh pick him up from school for a week even though he had his own car

he’s a big fan of horror movies, his favorite horror directors are mike flanagan and wes craven

he enjoys musicals every now and then though he’ll never admit it to anyone

him and reese are only two years apart so they attended school together for a few years. instead of ignoring reese, they would sit together at lunch and even had a few classes together.

he doesn’t go into acting like people expected him to. he goes to college and studies architecture (thank you to the anon that suggested this!!)

reese

my sweet middle child 🫶🏼

so he was very quiet and awkward in high school and his friend group was small. the only time he really talked was if he was with his friends/alex or if he was called on to answer a question

during parents teacher conferences, his teachers told you and hugh that the only complaint they had about reese was that he was too quiet and needed to participate. of course you got mad because if reese doesn’t want to participate then he doesn’t need to!!

dr. pepper lover i said what i said

his school didn’t have a film club so he made one with his friends and the first film they watched was chicago because why wouldn’t he want to show off how talented his mom is?? bonus: you attend one of their gatherings and talk about the production of the movie ☺️

btw if you didn’t read the other fic where i mentioned chicago the musical, it’s canon that marvel actress!reader plays roxie <3

he’s a big momma’s boy

his dream is to be a director and make a movie with you and hugh as the leads but he’s scared that the media is going to say that he only got the opportunity because he’s a nepo baby

his idols are marilyn monroe and his mom ❤️

his comfort movie is the muppets movie

olivia

olivia my queen 🫶🏼 so she is not afraid to tell it like it is

she’s close in age to dafne keen so they become best friends on the set of logan and have been ever since <3 of course dafne ended up becoming an honorary member of the jackman family

she follows in her parents’ footsteps and becomes an actress. she really doesn’t care if people call her a nepo baby, she knows she is 💅🏼

her first role was an A24 movie (of your choice) and she was going press interviews when deadpool & wolverine came out so she was asked a lot about the movie, mostly if she was in it

she was the valedictorian of her graduating class and included logan’s last words in her speech: “i’ve watched my brother, cousins and friends graduate and now it’s my turn. so this is what it feels like.”

have y’all seen the pic of romy mars, sofia coppola’s daughter, on the set of priscilla and jacob elordi is bringing her cake and singing happy birthday to her?? well olivia took some inspiration from romy and was on set of the new avengers movie that marvel actress!reader is directing and pedro pascal ended up being her cake and singing happy birthday to her 🤭

here’s the pic lol

ok that’s all for now <3 thanks for sticking around!! love y’all ☺️😘

@kellyxo1 @barnes70stark @flyestvenustrap @ru-kru @evasmlp

#marvel actress!reader #hugh jackman x reader

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mj0702 · 11 months ago

Text

The other Bronze – Part 12

I tell you guys - this was a very complicated birth 😅😅 I hope you enjoy it and next part (if wanted) will be more happy and chaotic again ❤️❤️

I want to thank all me patient anons... and of course @valewosomtb and @samkerrworshipper for having me back in every situation... and new to that list is @georgiaswifey who literally saved me ass from dying this week due to boredom ❤️❤️

After breakfast all of you boarded the bus to St. Georges Park for the first training of Camp. You of course tried to sit next to G just for Lucy to pull you up by your shirt and push you further down the way disposing you next to Mary as she slipped into the row next to you

“You can't be serious?” you growled towards your sister and her actions

“Dixie Chicks serious” your sister smirked back as she pushed you slightly into Mary

“Yeah... you do actually behave like Aubrey” you grumbled as you let Mary pull you into her side without even watching the interaction as she looked out of the window

“You ready for training Bubs?” Lucy asked now and you knew she was just being concerned after what happened a few days ago in Barcelona

“Yeah... if it gets too much I just go into the bosses office... I promise I won't bolt” you reassured her

“Okay... if you need anything Kei and I are always there okay” your sister said insistently

“Yeah I know...” you smiled softly

“Hey y/n” Rachels head shot up from the seat in front of you

“Yeah...” you already saw the glint in her eye which meant fun

“Truth or Truth?” the blonde asked grinning

“Ehrm... truth?” you played along smirking

“Good choice... okay... Have you ever faked sick to get out of a party?” Rachel grinned knowing the answer already

“Not a party but school and training, yeah” you shrugged your shoulders

“Training????” now Lucy looked up from her phone

“Sure... it's like suuuuuper easy.. down a bottle of water and sprint a few meters... boom... getting sick everywhere” you answered nonchalantly “Go on Rache... I'll give you one more”

“Excuse me?? Hold on.. when...” your sister interrupted

“Just before we had that “friendly” against the Arsekiddos...” you shrugged as Beth Mead turned around glaring at you

“It's Arsenal” she corrected you and you saw that she wasn't as serious

“There's a reason why there's an ARSE in Arsenal... and if you cut out the “rse” you get Anal... so... you can't argue with that” you smirked and shrugged your shoulders

You absolutely loved your Arsenal women but it's just as much fun to rile them up

“You just wait Pumpkin... you just wait...” Meado smirked back and you knew the worst thing what would happen would be a noogie “I'll just tell Viv to not bring any stroopwaffle back from camp this time”

“You wouldn't” you exclaimed shocked

“Oh I will...” Beth smirked

“You can't... Viv's me friend” you whined

“I licked it it's mine” Meado smirked evilly

“Oh god... disgusting” you shuddered as she winked at you

“Have you ever been nude in public?” Rache now spoke up again and a few heads turned towards you – including Keira, Georgia and Lucy

“I mean... Less, Toons and I went moonlight skinny dipping last year... does that count as nude in public?” you looked expectantly at Rachel who just bursted out laughing at Lucys horrified face

“Totally counts... got room for another?” now Millie got involved as well

“What's the weirdest thing you've done on a plane?” the larger blonde asked

“I... got on the wrong plane” you mumbled embarrassed as the bus around you interrupted in laughter

“You what? How can you get on a wrong plane??” Millie asked shocked

“It's easy when you're seven and just walk behind a man and the attendant mistakes you for his daughter and just pushes you through....” you fidget with fingers

“Where did you end up??” Mary asked chuckling

“Lucy??” you looked at your sister for help

“Iceland... she ended up in Iceland” your sister growled remembering the exact moment she realized at the airport that you were gone – and how she freaked out when the airport security from Reykjavík Airport contacted her telling her what happened. And how she needed to fly to Iceland to pick you up since you were a minor who wasn't allowed to fly on your own

“Beautiful country” you said wishfully as your sister groaned loudly

“I had to pick you up” Lucy huffed out

“But you can't deny that Iceland is a beautiful country” you shrugged your shoulders

“May I have a throw in as well?” now Leah asks not even waiting for an answer “y/n... truth or truth?”

“You can royally fuck off Williamson” you sneered and suddenly the whole bus was quiet and everyone was looking at you with wide eyes

“y/n!!!” Lucy said sternly “Apologize... Now”

“She first” you said reluctantly

“No... you will stop using your ass as a hat and get a grip” your sister gritted out “She's the Capitan and you will NOT talk to her like this... and if you can't accept her as the Capitan then it's still Leah and you will not talk to Leah like this – the person Leah not the player Leah”

“I wasn't talking to the person Leah” you huffed out “I was talking to the Capitan Leah”

“Okay wow... the different Leahs giving me headaches” you heard Tooney mumble which made you chuckle and had the effect that the situation got a little bit lighter

“Talk to me pumpkin” the blonde said softly as she ushered your sister away to take her place sitting down.

“I'm not talking to the Capitan... because she fucked up” you grunted pushing yourself further into Mary like a three year old

“Then talk to your friend” Leah tried again

“We're in a professional environment...” you grumbled

“Okay...” Leah accepted that she wouldn't get anything out of you just now

She leaned back in now her seat and sighed deeply. After a minute she pushed herself out of the seat walking to the front of the bus. She sat down in the first row next to Sarina

“I need to talk to her in private before training” Leah came straight to the point not even looking at Sarina but keeping her eyes trained forward

“I think so too...” the dutch said lowly “... but first I want to know why you roomed them together”

“I wanted that they maybe talk and whatever caused the riff between them could maybe resolved... I want her on the team too... she's good and she needs something to occupie her... I don't want to ever see her like two years ago.. never again” the blonde said lowly so just Sarina heard what she said

“What happened two years ago?” Sarina asked confused and concerned at the same time

“You don't know?” Leah asked surprised

“No” the dutch shook her head

“She tried to overdose... she called Leila because she got scared and Leila rushed over and basically forced the pills back out... then Leila called Hempo and Hempo called Beth... you know how the chain works... we got her to London on the lie of her missing Millie because even her parents didn't catch on...” the blonde said seriously

“I had no idea” Sarina said shocked

“Neither do Lucy and Keira” Leah said insistently

“No one had the guts to call them?” the dutch smirked

“We would all be dead if they knew... Keira just moved to Spain.. what would you think would have happened if we call her that y/n just tried to commit suicide?” the blonde snorted humourless “But seriously Sarina... I need to talk to her”

“I'll can excuse you for 15 minutes... but Leah... you may be the Capitan but I can tell you know... what happened between them won't be resolvable...” Sarina warned Leah

“You know?” Leah asked surprised

“I was there... I saw what happened... and I'll be honest with you Leah... it was bad” the dutch said as the bus came to a halt in front of St. Georges park “But the only one who should talk about this is y/n herself....”

“OKAY EVERYONE... YOU KNOW THE DRILL!! YOU HAVE 20 MINUTES TO GET ON THE PITCH – LOOK AFTER THE NEWBIES!” Leah yelled as the bus came to a stop and she pushed herself out of her seat facing the team

The players shuffled of the bus one by one the sensible veterans (not Millie and Rachel) showed the new players around and took them under their wing knowing how nerve wrecking it can be. Just as you exit the bus Leah was by your side

“Not you... you and I will go to the office” the blonde said and before you could complain (or bolt) she already had your arm in a death grip pulling you along

“That's literally textbook kidnapping” you said outraged

“If I wanted to kidnap you I would whack you over the head so I would have some peace while kidnapping you” the blonde grumbled as she pushed you into an empty office

You stood in the middle of the room while Leah went over to the big table leaning against it arms crossed over her chest

“Look... I just tried to do what I thought was right – I want you on the team... I need you on the team – I need you FOR the team” Leah started talking but stayed away from you.

She knew you well enough to read your body language which told her you wouldn't accept physical touch from her right now. So she stayed leaned against the table but let her arms fall to her side to signal you that she doesn't mean any harm

“You don't realize it but you are the glue in this team... and I'm sorry that I didn't talk to you about the rooming situation but I wanted to just give you a little push... both of you... I know you were friends and suddenly you two can't even talk to each other... I just wanted to get you to talk” Leah said apologetic

“There's a reason why we don't get along anymore” you said reserved

“I know that NOW...” the blonde rolled her eyes “I mean I don't know WHY but I know there's a reason...”

“So you talked to Sarina” you mused defenesly

“I did... If you wonder she just said it was bad nothing else” Leah said quickly

“So why are you so desperate for us to get along?” you asked weary

“As I said... I want you on and for the team... you know Sarina would give her last... waffle thing for you to join the Lionesses” the blonde tried to make you understand her point

“I can't play anymore...” you plopped down in one of the chairs

“But you can help us win... you have an eye for situations and plays like no one else... but I also know YOU... you might be grown up as a footballer – but as a person you are still a 16 year old girl... and I REALLY want you on this team but I fear that you wouldn't be unbiased...” Leah said softly “I know you can be.. I know you will be... but I needed to do something”

“Very wrong approach” you scoffed

“I know.... and I'm sorry” the blonde sighed

“Okay...” you shrugged your shoulders

“Okay?” Leah asked confuse

“Look... I am the reason LJ is still on this team... I won't tell you what happened because I know you love me and you will try to make it up to me somehow... but I told Sarina to keep her on the team... I told Keira not to do anything... so I may not be her fan personally... but as a player I can act civil and give my unbiased opinion” you told the Capitan seriously looking her straight in the eye

“Keira knows?” the blonde asked surprised

“Not by choice... she overheard something she shouldn't have... but that's beside the point... you fucked up... you apologized... we're good” you grinned “... AFTER you get Viv to bring me back stroopwaffle”

“You really had to get the comment about Arsenal out there didn't you?? How long did you work on that one?” Leah smiled back

“Not long... Leila and Greensie helped... we had fun” you shrugged grinning

“So... we're good Pumpkin?” Leah asked again

“Yeah... we're good Lee” you smiled as you pushed yourself out of your chair walking over to her and let yourself fall into her arms

“I love you Pumpkin” the blonde mumbled into your hair

“Love you too Lee” you mumbled against her neck

The two of you stayed like this for a minute until it knocked on the door and Sarina stuck her head inside

“Need you on the pitch Leah...” was the only thing the dutch said smiling softly seeing you in her captains arms

“Okay... let's go Pumpkin” Leah pushed you two off the table but kept her arm around your shoulders “Let's get out there and be great”

You entered the pitch together with Leah under the watchful gaze of Lucy and Keira but as soon as they saw that you had a small smile on your face and Leah had her arm around you they went back to their warm up

“They made up” Lucy spoke lowly as she stretched next to Keira

“Good... I already have you, LJ and G to keep an eye out for... not to mention Bitsy... if I needed to added Leah to that list too I would have shot myself” Keira mumbled back

“What do you mean me??” your sister exclaimed

“You were a dick to G yesterday and this morning... keep it up Lucia and you and I will have a nice talk once back in Barcelona” the blonde murmured back before standing up being done stretching “I know you actually don't mean any harm to them but I think you don't know how much both of them need your approval”

“It's not like G asked me to give my blessing” Lucy grumbled

“But she will one day” Keira said sternly before walking away

“Hey Liefje...” Sarina smiled as you joined her on the side-line watching the doing some basic drills to get the newbies used to the style and pace of style

“Ehrm.. why are there just 24 players on the pitch?” you puckered your lips and bashed your eyelashes

“Huh?” Sarina started to count the players – with you already knowing who was missing – and then whistled.

The girls came over confused why their coach called them over

“Where is James?” the dutch asked sternly looking at the vets while you had to bite your tongue really fucking hard to keep a straight face

“She was next to me in the locker room” Lucy said confused as she turned around looking for LJ

“Leah?” Sarina looked at her Capitan expectantly

“No clue” the blonde replied “I thought everyone was already out since I had something to take care off...”

Finally LJ emerged from the tunnel looking stressed – and she was barefoot.

“James... you're late... five laps after training” Sarina said strict

“Coach please... It's not my fault” LJ tried to reason with the dutch “It's y/n fault” she send you an evil look

“Moi??” you pointed at yourself innocently “I didn't do anything”

“I'm pretty sure I didn't pack two left cleats this morning... nor did I pack socks with holes in them” LJ sneered towards you

“I mean... I know Less has two left feet James...” you got quickly interrupted by Lessis “Hey... wait.. naah.. sounds about right” before you looked LJ dead in the eye “... but I never thought you have two... your passing is 90 something...”

You knew you were pushing your luck here but after what happened yesterday in your room you didn't give a flying fuck anymore

“You changed my cleats...” LJ growled

“I didn't do anything... if you accuse me of doing something...you better prove it” you growled back using her own words against her

“Okay... enough” Lucy pushed herself between you two to defuse the situation “Bubs... did you change LJs cleats?”

“How and when should I have done this?? You didn't let me out of your sight... I wasn't even allowed to say good morning to me girlfriend” you exclaimed annoyed

“True... you were with me the whole time” your sister mumbled but unsurprisingly Keira threw you a smirk knowing you somehow pulled this prank off

“I KNOW IT WAS YOU!!” LJ now exploded behind Lucy not believing you one bit

“Prove it” you said calm and looked her straight in the eye

“Okay... you do it again... LJ I have a second pair in my locker come on... you can have them” Lucy said as she pulled LJ away so the two of you wouldn't start fighting

“That backfired Bitsy” Keira grinned as she stood next to you

“Keira... sweet lovely Kei...” you grinned evilly “... since when does my sister pack a second pair of cleats?”

“Huh?” Keira looked confused before recovering “Never...”

“Exactly... so take a guess who threw the second pair in her bag?” you smirked seeing your plan enfold perfectly

“Why Bitsy... why would you help LJ?” the blonde mumbled

“Is it help if she has to do a three hour training session in shoes that are not hers?” you mused

“What do you mean?” Keira look at you lost

“The cleats are fitted to Luce feet... so either they are too big or too small... so tomorrow LJ either can't walk or she doesn't feel comfortable in her own cleats anymore and that will affect her play one way or the other” you smirked evil before turning around leaving an stunned Keira behind joining Sarina a little bit down the line.

“Evil Genius” Keira smirked to herself before walking over to Leah and Georgia

“It was her wasn't it?” Georgia asked immediately when Keira joined them

“Of course it was...” the blonde chuckled

“She told me you knew... tell us” Leah said hoping to get something out of her best friend

“No... not my business.... I promised her I wouldn't take any actions and that includes not saying anything because if people like Millie or Mary – or god forbid Lucy - get word of what happened than a pair of mixed up cleats would be LJs smallest problem – Millie would go all brickwall on her and Lucy would go out for the kill” Keira said seriously and even G caught on not to push the matter

“Wow... it must have been bad” now Tooney interrupted

“It was... and that's the last time we'll talk about it” the blonde said sternly fixing Tooney with a glare “Did I make myself clear?”

“Totally” Ella held her hands up in surrender

“Oi... less chatty chatty more runny runny” you yelled over to the four players grinning with Sarinas hands on your shoulders as she stood behind you like a proud mother

“What did I do now??” Lessi asked confused

“You did nothing?” you asked back confused

“You just say “Less chatty”...” Lessi said bewildered

“Not Less.... Less” you tried to make your point clear “as in... not so much... not as in Less Russo”

“Eh?” now you lost Lessi completely

“No talking – yes running” you huffed out

“AH... yeah that makes sense” the blonde finally catched on and smiled brightly

“Good... now run�� you shooed her away

“What would you do with them now?” Sarina asked you as you watched the team getting back to their passing drills.

She wanted to include you more since she planned to take you with the team to the world cup

“Are you asking as a head coach – because that would be bad if you had no clue how to prepare a team or as Mama Rina who just tries to get me to sign for the team again?” you smirked keeping your eyes fixed on the pitch

“Neither... just interested” the dutch smiled as she stepped next to you

“Group B doesn't click... you should change players” you said focused

“And group B is?” Sarina asked not knowing which group you dubbed as “B”

“Walsh, Greenwood, Stanway, James, Carter” you mumbled trying to find the problem “Their play is off... switch Walsh for Clinton”

“Keira!!” Sarina yelled towards the midfielder “Switch with Grace”

“Better but still off...” you mumbled again after a few minutes after Keira and Grace swapped their places “G!!!” you yelled and beckoned your girlfriend over which caused Lucys head to snap towards you

“Yeah?” Georgia panted a little bit after she jogged over to you

“Cut the crap” you growled and your girlfriend looked at you with big shocked eyes

“I...” G started to stammer not knowing what to say

“No... cut the crap” you said sternly and even Sarinas eyes widen “I know what you're doing... stop it”

“No idea what you're talking about” your girlfriend mumbles out looking at you sheepishly

“You don't work against her...” you said furious

“I didn't” G defended herself

“You did... your passes to her are sloppy and you know it... IF you play a pass to her that is... I know what you are doing but this matter doesn't concern you” you fixed your girlfriend with a glare

“You are my girlfriend... of course it concerns me... Kei said it was bad and I won't...” Georgia started before you interrupt her

“You won't anything... And right now I'm not your girlfriend... I'm just someone because if I'd be your girlfriend right now this would be highly unprofessional and we don't do unprofessional... and the whole situation... NOT. YOUR. BUSINESS” you now sneered “You will be the player I know you are... the player who plays for her team and country... and not for her team minus LJ”

Now Sarina caught on and was actually impressed how you grew as a person that you don't back down from even telling your own girlfriend off.

“Now cut the crap and get your shit together or I'll convince the head coach that it would be beneficial if you'd run some laps with LJ after training”

Georgia looked at you like she seen a ghost but nodded slowly

“Good...” you huffed “... now go and be the player I know”

Your girlfriend scrambled off quickly and you already could see the change in the whole play after you ripped her head off and screwed it back on in place the right way around

“That was...” Sarina started and you raised an eyebrow at her “... big... I didn't think you would rip your girlfriend a new one”

“If she deserves it I would rip Lucy a new one... I don't need anyone to fight me battles” you huffed still a bit angry

“They don't fight the battles FOR you... they fight battles WITH you” the dutch said softly “And Leah told me what happened two years ago... want to say something about that?”

“Nope...” you popped the “p”

“You know we'll talk about it...” Sarina said and this time it was her who had the sternness in her voice

“Ugh... Williamson really can't keep her gob shut” you groaned

“She thought I knew.. and now I'm thankful for her slip up” the dutch said “... What do you think about a 3v3?”

“5v5 … So G is basically forced to pull her finger out of her ass and start acting like a teammate again” you said back easily accepting the topic change

“If I would be a petty asshole... wait.. I AM a petty asshole...” you grinned at your adoptive mom “swap Greenwood with Bronze”

“Why would I do this?” Sarina raised her eyebrow again

“So my sister is forced to play alongside my girlfriend and not against her” you grinned “This gonna be fun”

Sarina actually swapped teams around a little so it wouldn't be to obvious and in the end team blue contained Bronze, Clinton, Stanway, Carter and James. They were up against team yellow who was Bright, Daly, Walsh, Greenwood and Mead.

“Georgia… drop back and come more in the backside” Sarina yelled with her Dutch accent

Your head snapped up (as did several heads from the team) finding the eyes of your girlfriend immediately as you both start to blush furiously while both of you stated a deer caught in the head light look.

“That’s… that’s not how you say it Mama Rina” you cleared your throat multiple times as you tried to avoid looking at your Sister.

“What did I say wrong?” the Dutch woman asked confused as several of your girlfriends teammates started to snicker and Millie even going so far as in clapping Georgia on the back

“Didn’t know you had it in ya, Stanway” the east midlander said grinning like a Cheshire cat

“oh no that wasn’t her…. That was me… I had it in me” you said offhandly realizing a split second later WHAT you just said as you already saw Lucys twitching eye as she turned towards your girlfriend looking her dead in the eye

“Run” was the only thing your sister said dangerously low.

Georgia already turned around sprinting away with your sister hot on her heels

Millie, Rachel Alex and Mary busted out laughing as Georgia ran past them her face red as a fire extinguisher.

“SORRY BABE!!!” you yelled after her as she sprinted past you your sister not far behind.

“See Bitsy… THIS is why I always tell you to think before you speak” Keira said standing next to you as she grabbed a water bottle.

“I don’t understand what the issue is” Sarina looking confused from one player to the next

“Backside is… your behind… you know Mama Rina” you tried to explain as much as possible with saying too much just for having the Dutch woman staring at you lost

“You basically told Stanway to come in someone ass” Rachel blurted out

“Oh… that’s… unfortunate” Sarina said after the words have sunken in.

“And little Bronze here basically confirmed that that’s what G already did” Millie laughed as she pulled you into side

“I didn’t mean too… it just… slipped out” you whined embarrassed

“I bet it did” Millie bursting out laughing as you punched her in the ribs which clearly didn’t phase her

Just as you wanted to respond what an incredible ass Millie is being your girlfriend sprinted past you again

“Stop her…” you heard her faintly begging voice as her breaths came out labored

“Keira please…” you turned to your basically other sister at this point

“Oh no… I’m not getting involved… that’s the Captains job.. or the head coaches job” Keira grinned widely

“Leaaaaaah…. Pleeeeeeeease” you begged at the England Captain now desperation clear in your voice

“Nope… you started it – your problem” the blonde smirked finding the whole situation highly entertaining

“Ugh” you moaned “you know… at least I get them to run… you weren’t as successful earlier”

You knew it was a cheap dig at Leah reminding her how she tried to get Lucy and Georgia to run only to find Lucy staring daggers at the younger one who preferred to hide behind Millie

“I swear I will pull a napoleon move on you and send you to exile” the blonde captain threatened you but her eyes were shining with mischief

“You can’t do that… Mama Rina wants me here to figure out what’s wrong with you lot” you said quickly turning around to the womens head coach “She can’t do that right?!”

“I mean… she IS the captain…” Sarina smirked

“HA!!” Leah yelled out victorious

“I promise I’ll be quiet” you begged again “but please don’t let her kill my girlfriend”

You looked around to find your girlfriend in the stands climbing quickly over the seats as Lucy followed not as graciously but still close

“At this point one or both of them will get hurt…” you heard Keira muse beside you which caused Sarina AND Leah springing into action

“LUCY!!!” Sarina yelled and whistled loudly and you saw your sister stop dead in her tracks turning around as the Dutch waved her back over

“I nearly had her” Lucy exclaimed annoyed as she stood in front of Sarina

“And I would have been one midfielder down…” the Dutch deadpanned back “… now back to training”

“We talk later” your sister shot you a dark glare which made you shrink into Millies side

“Don’t worry kiddo… she’ll get some energy out and she’ll be much more calm” Millie said reassuring feeling your hesitation

Your girlfriend opted to stay in the stands bending over her hands on her knees as she tries to catch her breath

“Lucy… Georgia… a word please” Sarina called out to both of them which made your sister turn on her heels to walk back to her head coach.

Georgia was a little slower to come down from her place but made it eventually standing next to Leah so she wasn’t in your Sisters reach

“I understand it’s a… rather complicated situation” the Dutch started “… but if you can’t remain professional on the pitch I will not hesitate to send you both home.. I let you have your moments understanding that you both love her… but keep it either to a minimum or best case – leave it completely.. we have a tournament to prepare for and I can’t have two of my best players at each others throats”

“Sorry Sarina” Georgia mumbled ashamed feeling like a small kid that got scolded for having a cookie before dinner

“Yeah… sorry Coach” Lucy chimed in

“And now kiss” you chuckled finding joy in the fact that for once it wasn’t you but Lucy who got told off.

This comment resulted in a murderous glare from your sister, an eye roll from Sarina, a REALLY shocked face (and a tiny scared squeak) from Georgia and a REALLY hard slap on the back if your head courtesy of Leah.

“Good… now go and rejoin the team” Sarina smiled before turning to you “… and you… you will go inside into my office – I’ll join you in a second”

You looked horrified thinking you’re in trouble with the teams head Coach – which people could trust you on… it’s not fun

“You are not in trouble” the Dutch clarified as she saw the horror on your face “I need your observant brilliancy…” she smiled at you encouraging stroking over your head like a mother would

“Which team am I looking at?” you asked after you sighed put relieved

“Spain… they were always very good but since last year they’re killing it… I want to know why and I want a way to throw them off” Sarina said seriously

“Just drug up your players and let them loose… that’ll throw them right off” you mumbled under your breath but Sarina understood you anyway laughing at your grumpy mood

“I heard you had quite the experience in Barcelona, kleintje” the Dutch chuckled before sending you off to her office.

You just settled into the big leather chair which was normally occupied by the blonde head coach herself as Sarina stepped through the door seeing you in her chair. She just glared at you raising an eyebrow waiting for you to move. You did so with a loud groan and a huff before you plopped down on the other side of the big table into one of the chairs

“Sitting in my chair” the blonde tzked under her breath but you saw the smile tugging around her lips “I have a proposition”

Your ears perked up and you looked at her interested

“I want you as part of the Team… we’re preparing for a world cup and I want the best people…” Sarina started looking for any reaction in your face but up to now you didn’t move a muscle

“You know better than anyone I can’t play… my knees are more fucked than Lucys” you said calmly leaning back in your seat

“I don’t want you as a player… I want you as an analyst / assistant coach… I know it’s very unusual with firstly your age and you having no experience in either of these positions but I know how good you are… you pick up on the smallest things and I fully believe you could change the Game.. I also want that World Cup Title” Sarina explained and you saw she was serious about it

“I talked to FIFA about it – no pressure but I wanted to know the legal side of it… as long you have a “guardian” they see no problem since other teams send girls your age as players” the Dutch said furthermore

“Who would that guardian be?” you asked equally as serious

“whomever you want… as long as they have an English citizenship and there isn’t a conflict of interest” the blonde answers your question already knowing this would be the first thing you’d pick up on

“So Lucy is out of question” you mused to yourself

“If you keep it professional she doesn’t have to be ruled out” Sarina said lovingly knowing how much your sister means to you

“No… people could pick up on it and throw a fit… “ you said rolling your eyes

“So you accept?” the Dutch looking at you interested

“I’m not saying yes… but I’m also not saying no” you answered honestly “I need to think about it”

“Of course, mijn kleine Liefje” Sarina smiled lovingly

“You know… at this rate just adopt me already ” you smirked sensing that the serious part of your meeting was over

“Your sister would have my Head if I announce our new analyst “Y/n Wiegman” …” the Dutch deadpanned

“I mean…. I WOULD be funny” you smirked your eyes shining with mischief

“I could also announce you as a Stanway” now it was the blondes moment to smirk as you frantically shook your head

“Oh I bet Georgia and your sister would be over the moon” Sarina teased you

“They might be but I'll be six feet under” you mumbled

“I won't let that happen” the dutch grinned and pinched your cheeks

“What is it with you today Mama” you groaned as you tried to get away from her

“I missed you Liefje... and I'm happy for you” Sarina smiled letting go of you before pulling you into a loving hug “And I'm so so proud of you how you handle the whole situation”

“Thanks Mama Rina” you mumbled a little embarrassed as you pressed your face against her

“Now.... I need you to find a weak spot in the spanish play” the dutch pushed you slightly away from her and kissed your forehead “be great”

You sat down in her chair and started re-watching the spanish games from the Euros. As you expected the spanish play was nearly perfect – but just nearly. You watched every game while your sister, girlfriend, best friends and your platonic soulmate ran sprints and laps and went to the gym for recovery. You didn't even notice how much time has passed as you got mesmerized by the spanish play. The quick accurate passes. The wordless communication between the players. The link between Alexia, Jenni, Aitana and Marionna. It was truly mesmerizing. BUT – you found a weak spot which made you smirk internally. You looked up when you heard the door open again and saw Sarina entering her office.

“Liefje...” the dutch smiled softly “... it's time to leave”

“Already?” you looked confused

“You've been in here for hours... training is over... you didn't even notice me looking after you three times” Sarina said smiling

“Oh... yeah no.. sorry” you scratched the back of your neck embarrassed

“The team is already on the way back to the hotel...” the dutch said as she walked over to you to shut her computer down

“Do I have to walk back??” you blurted out shocked which caused Sarina to burst out laughing

“No... I have a rental” the dutch laughed “But you still owe me laps for interrupting my meeting yesterday” she winked

“Lessi and Toons too” you shrieked

“They already did their laps... come on... one lap” Sarina winked

“I don't have shoes for running” you tried to get out of it

“Run barefoot” the dutch shrugged her shoulders like it was the most obvious answer

Unknown to you she had a plan. She hoped when you feel the grass of the pitch again that you might be more open to be more involved in training.

“You can't be serious?” you looked at her shocked your eyes wide

“One lap” the dutch nodded

“Ugh” you groaned but started to walk past her towards the field

You sat down at the sideline slowly taking your shoes and socks off. Sarina stood back knowing well enough not to disturb you since this was something you need to experience on your own. That was part of the reason she send the bus on the way without the two of you on board. She didn't need prying eyes nor did you. You probably wouldn't do this right now if you knew there were still people around – even if it were just your sister or your girlfriend. You sat there for another minute with bare feet and Sarina saw your eyes were closed and you wriggled your toes a little bit like you remembered the feeling of grass under your feet but at the same time try to memorize it. Then you pushed yourself up and took a few careful hesitant steps before falling into an easy jog. She saw you rounding the corner flag picking up speed down the goal line before slowing down at the next corner flag. Slow easy jog down the opposite sideline, around the next corner flag picking up speed again – not a full sprint but definitely faster before rounding the fourth flag and slowing down again. To Sarinas surprise you didn't stop. You kept on running but she saw a relaxed smile on your face. Not only relaxed but also relieved. Like you just needed the little push – the little push Sarina provided to get you on the pitch again. The dutch knew you never stopped working out so it was no surprise to her that you kept going for another four rounds making it five in total before stopping at your shoes. You bend over your hands on your knees you panted. You weren't completely breathless but you were breathless in the best way. You don't know why but suddenly you feel tears leaving your eyes and a soft touch on your lower back. You leaned against Sarina both of you just standing there you enjoying the support the dutch offered silently and Sarina just enjoyed the moment she get to spend with you. To see you like this meant more to her than any victory in any big tournament – for the last three years every time Sarina looked at you she saw that broken girl on the ground who was clutching her leg crying in pain but you weren't screaming. You were just laying there writhing in pain crying silently. Sarina was quick to pass the field dropping down to her knees next to your body. You looked so broken and so small. Back then she didn’t know what to do at first but the second your hand fisted itself into her shirt she knew she needed to protect you – and get you into a hospital asap. Sarina untangled your hand from her shirt but immediately held onto your hand with her own. She called her best physio who then came running with two medics. The dutch ordered herself to stay calm for your benefit and it was exactly what you needed. Even when the medics turned you onto your back and she saw the blood seeping through your pants.

It didn't matter how much you pretended to be fine Sarina always saw that little crying girl. But not right now. Now she saw one of the strongest people she ever had the pleasure working with. Right now standing next to you while you catch your breath showed her just how much you've grown. You were still a kid by heart she knew – but as a person you grew up so much. You started to fight your fears even if it started small with five laps around the pitch

“I'm proud of you Liefje” Sarina said lowly rubbing small circles on your lower back

“I'm fucking wheezing after five laps... nothing to be proud of” you panted back

“You started to fight your fear... that's something to be proud of... and now come on – I REALLY don't want to end up on your sisters bad side because I brought you back late” the dutch winked and smiled.

#woso image #keira walsh x reader #lucy bronze x reader #lucy bronze #lionesses x reader #georgia stanway x reader

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zorosangell · 1 month ago

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I’ll request for Cora then! I don’t really know what to request tho 🤔 but I love all your writing so I’m sure I’ll love whatever you write. how about just general headcanons? thank you! ❤️

⛥ﾟ・。corazon general and specific headcanons

synopsis: just some headcanons for the nine-foot tall blonde of my dreams

cw: none

a/n: this was so fun to write! thanks anon for the ask. i think i'm gonna open up my inbox for headcanons on other characters like kid or law or whatever

a/n 2: stay safe and rive carefully y'all. happy new year <3

general headcanons (you both are in a relationship)

— while i've seen others view cora as an overall shy, introverted person, i actually think the opposite, at least in some cases

— granted, he's not shouting from the mountain tops or actively going out of his way to talk to others, he is very extroverted with the people he knows and trusts

— like you, queen <3

— he likes to tell jokes and use his clumsiness to make you laugh, even if it isn't on purpose most of the time

— and when you do, he feels like he's on top of the world

— he's also very protective of you

— certain things in your relationship he likes to take a back seat on, but your safety is not one of them

— he's seen some things, and he'll be damned if something happens to you because of his negligence

— in a crowded room, he'll position himself behind you, acting as a guard dog as he keeps tabs on all possible threats

— in a bar, he'll keep a watchful eye on your drink and make sure an arm is around your waist at all times

— on the sidewalk, he will always, always make sure he's on the street side

— but that ties in with him being a perfect gentleman

— that being said... YOU NEVER HAVE TO PAY FOR ANYTHING

— actually gets offended if you try

— you're his lady; when you're with him, you don't lift a finger

— he may be on a marine's salary but when it comes to you he acts as if he has all the money in the world

— loves to splurge on you

"aw, baby, look! that necklace would look great on you, wouldn't it!"

"cora, honey, it's 90,000 berries... and you just got me a 70,000 berry bracelet last week"

"and?"

— honestly not very opinionated, doesn't really have many preferences when it comes to material things

— often has you order for him at restaurants, or pick out his clothes for the day

— hates arguing and fighting in general (though arguments are few and far between for you both anyway)

— if you don't like kids, that might be a bit of a deal breaker, seeing as law is a large part of his life

— not only that, but if you just are not a kind or decent person, this is not the man for you

— but trust, if you hit it off with law, you will have this man's heart forever (easier said than done tho)

specific headcanon (story-ish i guess)

— for the sake of whatever, let's say you're the nurse of doflamingo's crew (by circumstance, you're still a good person)

— when you first joined, cora was floored by your beauty; like actually, he fell flat on his face when doflamingo introduced you to the crew

— he was baffled that someone like you was a pirate, and even more so when you opened your mouth to reveal that you were incredibly kind and warm hearted

— (he would later learn that you had been blackmailed by his brother into joining the crew—the warlord promised no harm would come to your family if you joined him)

— initially, he was both enamored and suspicious, seeing as only those with cruel intentions joined his brother's crew

— but as time went by, he was quick to learn that it was quite the opposite, and quick to grow a certain fondness for you

— i imagine cora as a slow burner, so of course all of this happens over a decent amount of time

— but within that time you manage to weasel your way into his heart

— being the ship's nurse, you are always tasked with patching him up after his mishaps

— even though you do slip up and let out a chuckle or two, it never comes from a place of malice, unlike the others

— and even still, you scold and warn him about being careful around fires and hot liquids

— though, most of the time, it goes in one ear and out the other

— sometimes he's too preoccupied with your soft hands on him, or your pretty eyes locked with his

— sidebar: he blushes like a school girl because of his fair skin, i'm talking full on tomato

— anyway, it isn't long before you two become incredibly close

— communicating is a bit of a hassle given his silence, but he appreciates your constant effort

— he makes a point to keep you as far away from doflamingo as possible, often sending you on "errands" to avoid the two of you from interacting

— and when he can't do that, he floats around, not straying too far away as his brother pulls you aside for a chat or asks you to check a pain on his abdomen (barf)

— that doesn't just apply for his brother, btw

— he does that for everyone on the crew, executive or not

— no one gets you on your own without him knowing about it

— on the outside looking in it might sound stalker-ish, but in his mind he justified it as performing his duty as a marine

— all he was doing was protecting a helpless... sweet-smelling... adorably-laughing... angel-looking... young woman

— but in actuality, he was protecting his dream girl

— his dream girl who absolutely loves kids! (if you don't, then, once again, cora might not be the one for you)

— you always treat baby 5 and buffalo with such kindness, even when they act like little monsters; making sure they take their baths, making sure they eat, giving them their monthly check-ups

— it's one of the many things cora loves about your personality

— as well as nurse, you play the role of nanny to the kids onboard

— and your mothering only expands when law and dellinger join the crew

— fast forward to when cora is about to take law away, he comes to you first, severely surprising you by reciting a passionate dissertation as to why you should join him

— he couldn't imagine leaving you behind in the clutches of his brother; no protection, no one to shield you from the horrors of the family

— so it was only natural that his heart fell to his ass when you declined, but your reasoning was that doflamingo still had your family hostage

— though, on one particular night, when you had happened to walk past the door to his study, you overheard him talking to the other executives about how gullible you were, as he had killed your family years ago

— distraught, you ran away with cora and law that night

— and it was bbq chicken from there...

#zorosangell #one piece #one piece x reader #corazon #rosinante x reader #donquixote rosinante #rosinante corazon #corazon x reader

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ghoulfuckersincorporated · 4 months ago

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Can we get a fic with John Hancock with a shy, innocent virgin f!reader? I feel like he would just go feral with corruption/breeding kink and possessive/jealousy?! Like just wanting to ruin her for anyone else and mark her from other ghouls. Bonus for fluff as well. I love the idea of him falling for her softness and trying so hard to be a gentleman out of respect, thinking she deserves better while internally he’s thinking the nastiest filthiest shit.

(Also maybe you could do a Howard version sometime? I know you get a ton of requests so if not it’s fine, but I'm curious how he would be too) Either way, thank you ❤️ your blogs amazing and I appreciate it!

Carnal Lessons

Pairing: John Hancock x Virgin!Female Reader

Word Count: 19,965 (yes, for real)

Warnings: smut (18+), very sexual pining, loss of virginity, corruption kink, reader's first "real" orgasm, absolutely perverted thoughts, mutual and consensual drug use, shotgunning, discussion of addiction, canon-typical violence and bigotry, descriptions of wounds, mild exhibitionism, finger fucking, mutual masturbation, oral sex (male and female receiving), cock piercings, possessive sex, manhandling, hair pulling, breeding kink, slightly dishonest creampie, jealousy, self-hating John.

Notes: It's finally here! This thing absolutely refused to free me from its clutches, so I'm incredibly happy to have it all finished up. Thanks for the submission, Anon, and thanks for your patience while I worked through the forty-ish page fit it induced in me. I tried SO hard to keep this to a reasonable length (as I said, there's almost never a time when I'm not shooting to keep to around 5,000-7,000 words), I swear, but this idea really needed some room to develop. Please enjoy the first long-form piece on the blog that doesn't feature Cooper Howard in the lead role! As for the idea of doing a version of something like this with him in the future, someone else sent in a very similar ask that's been earmarked for just that.

Reader is a former vault dweller but is explicitly not Nora/the Sole Survivor. Post-Institute destruction.

John McDonough had always been more accepting of vault dwellers than most folks. A certain curiosity towards those who came from such different circumstances than him in youth had slowly grown over the years into some form of sympathy, even pity. There were those who looked down on the people who spent their lives hiding away in those armored chambers, saw them as craven and weak, but John found himself sympathetic to anyone who valued safety and stability for themselves and those they truly cared about. A hard-lived life of barely scraping by and sleeping in the gutter for years had granted him a thankfully varied perspective of the world around him.

When you'd first stumbled your way into his life, he had been very understanding of your plight; after all, you weren't the first poor schmuck that had left their vault, their safe little settlement, only to discover just how truly dangerous the streets and crumbling high-rises of Boston could be. You'd arrived in rough shape, though not the roughest he'd seen by far. Hell, you'd even managed to limp your way into Goodneighbor's front gates before collapsing, a bit of fortitude that had almost certainly saved your life.

Naturally, as the mayor, word of the collapsed, bloodied vault dweller laid out on the ground outside Kleo's had filtered up to him rather quickly, and his innate curiosity had gotten the best of him. Fahrenheit had tucked the information in between a few other pieces of news, seemingly hoping to keep it from garnering too much interest from her friend and boss.

"I think I'm gonna go check it out." he replied, rising from the rickety couch where he'd been perched, taking in his second-in-command's daily brief.

"I know you, Hancock. Maybe you shouldn't." she said, eyeballing him.

"I have no absolutely idea what you mean by that." he retorted haughtily before disappearing down the stairs and out the door. He made his way across Scollay Square, nodding to and greeting a few folks who spoke to him, cutting a wiggling path to the Rex where he'd been told they'd set you up in a room to rest after patching you up as best as they could. Seeking out the room number he'd been given at the desk, he was surprised when he poked his head around the corner to find Daisy still hovering over you a bit.

"Heard we might have a new friend. How're they doing?" he asked, leaning against the door frame with his hands in his pockets. The merchant turned, smiling politely at him and straightening her jacket.

"Hey, Hancock. She's doing much better now, fortunately. Poor thing will probably sleep for quite a while, though. I'm shocked she made it through." she said, taking a half-step back to reveal your unconscious form on the bed. "Tough for a vaultie. Though, I suppose I said the same about Nora."

He hadn't fully heard a single thing she'd said after she'd stepped away, completely distracted by the realization of what Fahr had actually meant. When she'd had told him she thought it was best he didn't come down, he'd assumed it was a joking remark about how he'd disappeared for months the last time a vaultie had popped into their lives, but now he truly understood what she'd been getting at when she'd remarked about how she "knew him".

You were breathtakingly gorgeous, even battered, limp, and filthy like you were. Soft in all the right ways, from your statuesque face to what parts of your body he could see unobscured by the old sheets. Your vault suit was unzipped and yanked down to the waist to expose the dirty tank beneath, the swell of your breasts rising and falling gently as you slept. Your skin and hair were so perfect looking under the sweat and grime that he felt himself overwhelmingly drawn to caress you somehow, his palms itchy. He'd been around the block a time or two, and he'd met plenty of gorgeous men and women, but something about you was immediately captivating, almost haunting.

After a moment, he came back to himself, making abashed eye contact with Daisy once more to find that she was studying him closely. Of course, the older woman knew him well enough to figure he didn't have ill intent towards you, necessarily, but she recognized that glint in his eye as he gazed at you, and it made her hesitant to leave the room before he did, her instincts too strong to be ignored. Hancock, for all his vices and shortcomings, was quite adept at reading a room and quickly picked up on her thoughts.

"Well, I'll let her rest. If you see her up and around later, send her my way so we can chat, yeah? I'm sure she's got interesting stories." he said, trying his best to sound lax and casual. The other ghoul nodded silently, already turning her attention back to you as he turned to leave. Rounding the corner right out of the Rex, he ducked into a narrow alley and lit a smoke, leaning against the wall and closing his eyes with a sigh, trying his best to turn his mind to other topics. It had taken longer than he'd care to admit, but he finally succeeded and returned to the day's business.

When you'd eventually awoken, he'd been very pleasantly surprised to find you chatty and rather accepting of your surroundings for someone who had lived underground their whole life. You were kind, agreeable, though shaken by your ordeal, obviously; he guessed that you'd likely seen plenty of other wild shit on your way in, and that a semi-regular (if a little unsavory) community of folks who mostly just happened to be ghouls wouldn't be that high on the list of things that would trip you up badly. Incredibly thankful for the assistance you'd been given when you'd first showed up, you quickly proved him correct, eager to work, to help out, to find a place where you could fit in.

Early on, you did a lot of running around for Daisy and Kleo, searching for things that had been requested from them, but you'd quickly grown tired of prospecting and shifted to more community-based work, something that only endeared you to him more. You mentioned casually at one point that you'd been something called an "irrigation technician" back home, so it was no surprise that he often found you knee-deep in dirt, picking at weeds, evaluating soil and water quality like it was second nature to you.

Everyone around the neighborhood loved you, almost too much for his liking. More and more, he found himself asking you to do completely made up tasks, or things that were already an assigned job, just to make sure you weren't spending too much time getting close to someone else when he was too busy to hang out with you. It left a bad taste in his mouth to think that he might miss out on the chance to get close to you because of nothing but circumstance when it had been circumstance that brought you into his life to begin with.

Eventually, he'd gotten a bit of that familiar wandering itch, deciding to pack up and make the trip to visit Nora in Sanctuary. He'd invited you to come along with him, both interested to see what his two favorite vaulties would think of one another and hoping for an opportunity to get more personal with you. Besides, he wasn't naive. He couldn't leave you behind and expect you to still be available when he came back, that he knew; Edward Deegan had been in town far more often since the Cabots had left, asking around for you more than once, and he knew that the older man had a certain reputation...not that he had room to judge.

He also knew that he wasn't the only one to worry about.

Thankfully, you'd agreed to come along, openly eager to see more of the countryside and secretly eager to spend more time with John himself. His plan to get closer to you ultimately worked, and far better than he'd expected, but not for the reasons he'd anticipated.

The trip from Goodneighbor to Sanctuary wasn't terribly long, a day or two at most depending on your urgency. In fact, travel times all over had seemingly reduced as the roads had grown slowly safer, busier with the increased presence of the Minutemen and those who felt aligned with them. He had even noticed several trading caravans, though heavily guarded ones, making their way south, something he hadn't seen in years.

Unfortunately, he'd gotten a little lax, perhaps a bit distracted towards the very end of the trip and the two of you had been ambushed just as you'd entered the outskirts of Concord. He hadn't anticipated raiders so close to Sanctuary; in his overconfidence, a small pack of them had managed to get the drop on the pair of you, nailing him with a single round to his shooting arm from some distance before quickly hemming you in from uphill. Fortunately, he was both quick-healing and more than familiar with fighting in pain; his resilience, combined with your own strength and ability to pick several off yourself at a distance, quickly thinned their numbers, leaving each of you dealing with one or two stragglers.

Hancock had been retrieving his knife from the windpipe of the final one standing against him when he saw you fall out of the corner of his eye, your weapon tumbling a few feet away across the split, buckled asphalt. He immediately threw himself towards you, sizing up the burly raider who loomed over you as you attempted to roll out of his reach. The hulking motherfucker pivoted on one foot towards you, crushing the arm that was reaching out for your fumbled pistol under his filthy boot and snapping the bone with a sickening, audible crack. The agonizing cry that left you was sharp and heartbreaking.

Somehow, he'd teleported the ten feet or so that he needed to close the gap between him and the man raising his laser rifle towards you. He couldn't consciously recall a time when he'd moved with such urgency. The blow he delivered to the back of the guy's head with the butt of his shotgun caved in his skull cleanly and dropped him near instantly like a sack of rocks, but John still unloaded two shells into what was left for the satisfaction, his entire body vibrating with adrenaline and worry as he turned to you.

You were either attempting to sit up or curling upwards in pain, neither of which seemed especially comfortable as your mouth laid open in a silent scream. He acted as quickly as possible, gently moving your guarding arm away from the injured one to examine it. Thankfully, the bone hadn't pierced the skin, but the angle your hand sat at made his stomach roll, along with the way you began to whimper and hyperventilate. Wanting to move you out of the open before he administered one of the doctor's bags he kept with him, but distrustful of the surrounding houses, he scooped you up into his arms, wincing along with you as you cradled your limp limb against your chest. Holding his breath almost all the way, he trudged up the hill until he came across the Red Rocket truck stop, settling you gently on the old work bench.

"I'm real sorry, but this is probably gonna hurt, kid." he said, allowing himself the far-too-intimate gesture of pushing your hair away from your face, cradling your wet cheek for a split second. "When we get to Sanctuary, we'll get you something for the pain, alright?"

You nodded, eyes clenching tight as you extended the injured extremity towards him as best as you could. He was as gentle as possible patching you, uncomfortable with the idea of leaving you suffering completely, even for just the short walk across the bridge and up the hill. Eerily quiet despite what he was certain was fairly great pain, you let him do whatever he needed.

It had taken longer than he'd have liked to carry you to the short rest of the way to Sanctuary, his pace encumbered by his fear of jostling or mishandling you.

"It's fine. I can walk the rest of the way." you'd protested halfheartedly, your unmarred arm wrapped tight around his neck as you held yourself up as best as you could. However, you made no move to extract yourself from him. He'd pointedly ignored the handful of inquisitive looks the two of you had received as he'd carried you past the guard posts at the end of the bridge, quickly seeking out the settlement's little clinic building.

Nora, mayor in her own way, had almost immediately heard of your arrival, and found him smoking on the crumbling curb outside, staring off at the old gas station on the horizon absentmindedly.

"Is your lady friend alright?" she asked, lowering herself down beside him and holding out a semi-cool beer.

He smiled at her, almost full-strength, and reached out to warmly shake her hand. His friend looked a little older now, her time in the Commonwealth and her mountain of accrued responsibilities taking their own toll, but she appeared wiser (and more content) for it.

"She'll be fine. If I'm honest, I probably didn't need to rush her up here like that, but, eh. I panicked a little." he replied, cheeks warm as she appraised him with that knowing look. She didn't dig further, thankfully one of his few friends who had ever mastered the art of discretion. John was glad to see her, certainly, and tried his best to focus on their conversation as they caught up a bit, each sipping their drink, but his mind was inside with you.

Soon, she was pulled away, but promised to check in again before disappearing down the street, leaving John as he had been: worrying away on the stoop.

After the doctor had checked you over, fully re-set your arm, and given you another stimpack, along with a sling, the ghoul had helped you to a cot in an empty room at the back of one of the semi-restored houses. He'd offered you Med-X, eager to alleviate the pain he could see lingering, but you'd just shaken your head wordlessly, a nervous glint in your eyes as you sized the syringe up, your breathing still rather shallow and shaky as you sweated lightly.

"You're worrying me here, sister. I'm begging ya to just take something. I know you're healing up, but..."

"I'm fine, John. Really. I just need to rest a few more hours and it'll be healed enough to not hurt so badly." you huffed, resettling your limbs along the bed to allow him some room to sit beside you. You calling him by his real name, the one no one ever called him, didn't even really register.

"I've got some booze." he offered, embarrassed at how desperate he felt to get you to somehow accept what little help he felt he had to offer. "Or weed? Would you try that? I know you're hurting."

There was a different sort of hesitation in your gaze at that, your arm still cradled close in your sling as you stroked over it absentmindedly, protectively with your good hand.

"I really do just need to tough it out a bit longer." you replied, though your tone was a little softer. "Plus, I don't like to drink, and I don't exactly know how to smoke weed."

He chuckled at that, relaxing just a little.

"Not much to know. Inhale, hold, exhale." he said, smiling warmly at you. "I've got a joint if you wanna try it."

You were quiet for a long moment, taking a deep, steadying breath in the cooling twilight.

"Are you gonna light it?" you asked.

And he did, taking a puff or two himself to get the thing burning properly before handing it to you, showing you how to pinch it between your thumb and forefinger and watching with rapt attention as you lifted it to your own mouth.

"Easy!" he said as you pulled hard, the end of the joint glowing bright as it burned. Unsurprisingly, you began to cough wildly a moment later, cheeks wet and shoulders shaking hard as you hacked and gasped, desperately pushing the smoldering little cigarette back at him so you could wipe at your face. Resisting the urge to chuckle at the relatability in your tear-streaked mug, he patted your shoulder gently. Taking another puff himself, he leaned against the wall behind him, giving you a few minutes to collect yourself and find your voice once more.

"Wow." you said eventually,

"Feeling it?" he asked.

"Definitely. Also, that really hurt."

He tittered a bit at your glassy-eyed look, genuine relief washing over him as he took in your relaxing posture and slow, even breaths. Knowing that you wouldn't fess up to still hurting, he didn't ask your status, taking comfort in the knowledge that you were at least somewhat relieved of your pain as he fully settled in beside you, sitting up with his back against the moldering wallpaper.

"If only my friends back home could see me now." you chuckled, playing absentmindedly with your fingers. His stomach dropped a bit at that, always frozen in captivation and fear of stopping you somehow when you got to talking about home in any substantial way, which was so rare.

"Can I ask why you left? Of course, you don't have to tell me anything you don't want to." he asked, each word an uneasy labor to force out as he fiddled with one of his rings.

You were quiet for a moment, just long enough that his retraction was ready to launch off of his tongue when you finally responded.

"They wanted me to get married and I wasn't ready." you explained simply, following up after a moment with a very hesitant "Well, it wasn't just that. They wanted me to get married and start immediately popping out babies and stuff. Had a guy picked out for me and everything. I just couldn't go through with it. It didn't feel right. You know?"

John faltered for a moment, genuinely unsure if he did know what you meant. Sure, he was familiar with the feeling of being expected to fall into a certain role and failing, or rejecting the system that wanted to put you into that box completely. He knew what it was like to feel at odds with those who felt they knew what was best for you. But, through all of that, he'd been able to make his own choices, even if he sometimes wished he could go back and make different ones.

"I know what it's like to feel like you need to just get away, for sure." he replied after a hopefully-not-too-long pause.

You nodded slowly.

"So, uh...did you leave, or did you run away?"

There was a long moment of silence, and you didn't look at him when you answered, your voice just a little bit quieter.

"Closer to the second thing."

He nodded, hesitantly placing his hand on your knee in a gesture of comfort, smiling when you placed your own hand over his.

"Was he ugly?" he joked after a moment, earning a gentle laugh from you.

"Nah. It wasn't him. It was all of them, you know? And me, I guess." you replied, eyeballing the stars through a hole in the roof.

"Yeah, I hear you."

He held the joint out to you once more, but you declined, directing the thing away with a smooth turn of your hand.

"You sure you don't want some more? One hit isn't very much, even if it feels strong right now. Probably won't last long."

"I don't wanna hog all your fancy drugs." you responded facetiously, grinning just a little. "Plus, I think I'll literally hack up my own windpipe if I take another drag off of that thing. It's so..."

"...hot-feeling? I could shotgun it to you." he offered, trying to ignore the way his cock stirred at the confused look on your innocent little face. "It means you inhale my exhale. Makes it way less harsh. Only if you wanna, though."

"And it still works? The, uh, smoke, I mean?"

"Yep." he smirked.

"Hmm. Yeah, let's try it." you agreed, much calmer than before as you sat up a little taller and scooted close to him, your hips touching as he filled his lungs with smoke once more.

"Alright," he explained, words strained as he held his breath, "put your lips to mine and take a deep breath in."

You leaned in closer to do as you were told, you cheeks dusted with a tinge of blush as he closed the short distance between the two of you. Softly, he touched his mouth to your own, holding his lips open as he slowly, steadily exhaled. Hesitating for a moment, you eventually caught on, and surprisingly managed to take a rather generous inhale.

What surprised him more, though, was when he moved to pull away and you leaned in again, only to kiss him in full, your lips wrapping around what remained of his own instead of just sitting there. It began as a lingering peck, but after you pulled back a few inches to exhale, coughing much less this time around, he leaned in again, hand moving to cup the back of your head as he held you tight. You'd slept close to one another before, but that was the first night you'd chosen to sleep in the same bed, cuddled close and both content.

From that moment, things began to genuinely progress between the two of you, your relationship quickly blooming from a warm friendship with occasional flirtatious banter into something that was becoming quite serious, at least in terms of the relationships John had had in the past.

You were a flirt, but not in the forward, raunchy way he himself often was. No, you were a much sweeter, more playful sort of tease, and while he quickly found your affection high up on the long list of things he had a major fixation for, it also hampered him in its own way. It made him feel like such a creep to make more forward advances towards you when your own 'moves' tended to be more romantic in nature; hand-holding, soft kisses, chaste cuddles. Granted, he tried to keep in mind that your lack of experience may have made you less inclined to start or say things, less confident to put yourself out there; you often came across as eager, but nervous. He kept that observation to himself.

You were also a rather remarkable person, driven by how much you wanted to help people and make the world you'd found a better place. He found it almost funny how you tried your best to make it clear that you weren't one of those vault dwellers, though you sort of inherently were. As much as you liked to deny it, to insist that all of the "we must rebuild and lead America when we retake the surface" talk they'd drilled into your head where you'd grown up hadn't taken root, he saw some of it in you, in the way you were so eager to help run things, start up new settlements, provide assistance with improvements that would make life better for everyone.

Perhaps you'd decided to embody those values in a different way than you were taught, but it certainly came across as leadership behavior to him. Nora must've seen it, too, the two of you becoming quickly and warmly acquainted, you eager to help her out in any way you could and her with plenty of tasks that could use more hands. One of those tasks, funnily enough, was deciding what to do with the still-untouched Red Rocket. Too small to really be a proper settlement, it was decided that it would be emptied out and sized up for stability and how easy it would be to wire the place. He also insisted on a new guard tower at that end of the bridge to keep an eye on any Concord stragglers. Though, not too close to the building.

The two of you spent the next week or so cleaning the place out together, hauling away rotted junk and evaluating the old building's guts and foundation, which were pleasantly intact overall, much to his surprise. Nora stopped by when she could patch together any significant time alone from the few minutes here and there that she often had between tasks, offering assistance and extra supplies to stock the place up with. Knowing her, she'd long seen right through him and his feelings towards you; his suspicions were all but confirmed when she remarked that it was "quite the little home the two of you were building together".

Occasionally, she would bring Shaun along with her, introducing him to you after a couple of months of feeling you out. For the sake of his cherished friend, John treated the boy as normally as possible, even playing with him a bit when he requested it. But, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't force himself to let go of his lingering wariness of the whole thing. Yes, he was happy that Nora had her son back in whatever form it may be; he had seen firsthand how devastated she had been without him.

After all, that was precisely why he found himself so suspicious when she'd told him about the young synth boy. John had never been a parent, himself, but he knew Nora's heart, knew how deeply her love for her child lived inside her; it was exactly the sort of loss that could be easily exploited. She insisted that the Institute wasn't something they needed to worry about any longer, but he sometimes questioned her confidence in this. The facility itself may have been gone, but there was no way of knowing that all of their plans and orchestrations had been annihilated alongside it. Hell, if they'd been worth their supposed salt, they'd have been smart enough to guarantee that exactly that wasn't possible, that they would still be able to continue their work somehow. Shaun had showed up at too perfect a time, in his mind, and for that, he constantly kept one eye on the child who seemed to genuinely like him, calling him "Uncle John".

It was rather clear to him that you noticed the wall he kept up between himself and the kid, but you didn't prod much into it, and for that he was grateful.

The weeks continued to pass by, the Red Rocket becoming your sort of base; close enough to Sanctuary to be useful, far enough away to have some privacy for yourselves.

"We should really get you some actual armor and people clothes, y'know." he said one evening, reclining back onto the little bedroll he'd been using while you two searched for a proper bed and staring hard at your ass as you rummaged through your things. "That suit might protect you alright, but it's like wearing a target on your back."

And it's way too distracting to me, frankly, he finished silently, perfectly envisioning himself accidentally wandering off a cliff to his demise because he was too fixated on your various assets waggling around in that damn suit.

Fortunately for him, you actually agreed, long past growing tired of the perception of naivete and vulnerability that the suit drew to you. Though, he knew you were rather attached to the thing, one of the few slivers of home you carried with you always. You feared it being stolen if you left it behind somewhere, and he understood, helping you rig up a really good hiding spot in the Red Rocket ceiling tiles. The clothes you eventually started to wear around were, thankfully, less well-fitted than the vault suit, scrounged up pairs of jeans and threadbare tees, old button-ups and road leathers you tried your best to keep oiled and stretched.

However, when you felt truly comfortable (and weren't helping with some of the more intense work around the settlements), you'd often wear one of a couple of dresses you'd managed to trade for or scrounge up in your adventures, button-up things that hung well past your knee, but took the "form fitting" issue the vault suit had and multiplied it. Not only did the things emphasize every one of your sweet curves just the right way, they exposed the soft, strong flesh of your arms and legs, the line of your elegant throat as it disappeared into the swell of your breasts. As much as he loved to see you dressed so nicely, almost otherworldly beautiful in just how much you didn't fit into the dingy, decrepit background, it made it difficult for him to focus on any one task. Frankly, it made it difficult to focus on anything but the thought of hiking the flowing skirt up around your hips and having his way with you.

Simultaneously, it made him hypervigilant of exactly how others carried themselves when they were around you.

It had been irritating enough back home to have to deal with the Neighborhood Watch guys tugging you aside to whisper little bits of info to you, Ham's gaze lingering on you as you two passed into the entrance of The Third Rail, the number of people who had always wanted to talk or dance with you when you got inside. Caravan guards and traders trying their hardest to tail the pair of you on the road, pursuing your attention hard.

But once the two of you had begun spending a great deal of time around Sanctuary, the problem only intensified, increasing directly with the number of smoothskin men around who obviously did not see him as any sort of threat. Though he couldn't quite determine if the way they wrote him off was intended to be more emasculating or generally dehumanizing, John remained on his best behavior, both for your sake and Nora's, unwilling to embarrass either of you by association. Regardless, he was infinitely relieved when the former lawyer began to ask the two of you to start running errands to other nearby settlements. Sure, his patience was often tested again as soon as you reached whatever your new destination was, but the alone time in-between stops was incredibly regenerating for him, eager to get his hands on you whenever he could.

This was particularly true at night.

Often the settlements you were visiting weren't all that far away, but the two of you would usually choose to bed down for the evening somewhere on the roadside before turning up, both of you giddy at the unfettered access to one another, the privacy to discuss and say whatever you wanted. More than anything, though, he was desperate to feel you, to kiss you, to have you cuddled up against his chest the way he liked, and he was too nervous to paint you with the scarlet letter of ghoul alliance to be all that handsy during the day. When the sun fell, though, you were all his.

At no point did you explicitly tell him that you were a virgin. You didn't really need to, frankly; the way your lips and hands fumbled nervously against him, your lack of confidence to lead in this single situation, communicated all he needed to know. He wasn't especially surprised, anyway. The place you came from sounded pretty buttoned-up the way you described it, but you were also just a fairly guarded person in general; warm, friendly, but not overly eager to let anyone too close without a thorough sizing up. Fortunately for him, he somehow fit the specs.

It didn't take long for the two of you to start properly fooling around, much to John's partial chagrin. He hated to feel like he was rushing you, but at the same time, his self control completely evaporated into thin air the moment you stripped down to your skivvies to relax. He'd been hooked on you from that first kiss and the withdrawals were some of the heaviest he'd felt.

The first time he watched you come apart on his fingers, it took every ounce of strength in his irradiated body to not pin you down and fuck you until you literally couldn't handle any more. It was the most erotic display he'd ever taken in, the way your exposed chest flushed and heaved, your big, wide eyes brimmed with overwhelmed tears. As you'd crested into your peak, his hand buried in your panties while the other supported your limp head, you'd cried out so loudly he'd had to cover your mouth, soaking his fingers as your body twitched and jerked tensely.

"Holy cow." you'd gasped a moment later, a light sheen of sweat delicately clinging to your face and chest. "I wasn't aware I was doing that wrong."

"Well, I dunno about wrong..."

"Wrong, not as good as you, whatever." you dismissed, waving your hand at him playfully. "I hope you know that that's gonna be your job from now on."

"Is that right?" he grinned lasciviously, leaning down to kiss you on the cap of your bent knee and forcing himself to not firmly plant his rapidly growing head between your thighs. "Since when do you delegate tasks?"

"Oh, don't be that way, McDonough. We're all taking on extra responsibilities for the good of everyone." you replied diplomatically, your cheeks rosy as you rearranged your limbs to lie along his body.

He laughed genuinely at that, wrapping an arm around you and moving to recline himself. The small tent the two of you had set up was filled with your sweet musk, and he strategically angled his hips away from you so you wouldn't feel how completely stiff he was as a result, petting your hair as you drifted off to sleep. John was no stranger to knocking out for long periods himself, usually to will away a nasty come-down or hangover, but he found himself staying awake longer and longer to watch you, caress you. He thought it a much more worthwhile use of his time.

A while later, you'd been sent to the settlement that'd grown up at the center of the former drive-in theater a bit down the road from the Abernathy place. You were rather enamored with the place, both because of its historical use and because it had a fairly interesting crop setup, attempting to squeeze the most use out of what parts of the ground weren't paved. Personally, he felt less welcome at this place than he often did at other settlements, though other settlements coincidentally also seemed to have more ghouls already living there. However, when you wanted to stick around for a bit, caught up in helping work out some kinks with their crop watering system, he didn't object or complain, happy to see you happy. He'd simply make himself scarce during the day, often scavenging or patrolling the outer edge of the place and leaving you to socialize and play in the dirt, which is where he found you upon his return one early fall evening, the air growing chilly as the breeze blew through the little farmyard.

"How was your day?" you asked as he approached, sitting on the steps of the ramshackle barn the settlers had constructed and knocking mud off of your boots and the cuffs of your pant legs. The sun was quickly sinking behind the ridge at your back, darkness beginning to envelop the edges of the place.

"It was great. Camped out watching the ridge for a while, so I'm pretty stiff. Wanna go for a walk with me, stretch your legs?" he asked, rolling a loose cig in his fingers before jamming it between his lips. Smiling, you nodded silently in agreement, sweeping the remaining dust and debris from your pants after you stood before moving to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with him, the two of you making your way northwest towards the other end of the paved lot. You chit-chatted a bit about the day's events, what each of you had accomplished. When you reached the decrepit building that made up the old movie screen, he took a pause to lean against the stained wall, finally lighting up his smoke. You busied yourself staring up at the stars quietly, leaving him to study you closely as he puffed away at the thing.

"Have you gone up top yet?" he asked eventually, exhaling the last of his cigarette through what remained of his nose as he tucked the butt into his pocket.

"No. Can you? I thought they had a guard post up there so I've been keeping away. I get so embarrassed when I get in the middle of their patrol routes." you asked, an excited glint in your eyes as you fiddled with the ends of your hair.

"They don't man it at night. Can't hardly see nothin' from it in the dark, strategically, and it's too hard to wire anything up there. Plus, anything happens and you're pretty far away, all things considered. Nor' says they're building a guard tower soon. Wanna take a look? Might still be neat."

You nodded enthusiastically, quickly reaching out to thread your fingers into his and tug him along, the slightly sickly glow of your Pip-Boy flashlight illuminating your way along the mostly intact path. The pair of you climbed the old metal stairs together, hand-in-hand, slowly making your way up to small walkway along the top of the massive screen.

He had been a little surprised that you'd never heard of a movie theater like this before you'd come here for the first time, since even he'd at least read about them once or twice (and vaulties often seemed to know so much more about the pre-war world than people from up-top), but Nora had gotten a kick out of showing both of you what remained of the massive projector in the decayed building at the far end of the lot, explaining to you how the whole place had worked back in the day. The wonder in your eyes had been adorable, and you'd spent quite a while afterwards talking about the few movies you'd watched growing up. It was rare for you to talk so much, so openly about where you came from, even if what you were talking about wasn't necessarily consequential information; he'd spent most of that night holding you in his lap, staring at you dreamily while you mused and remembered until you fell asleep.

"Wow. You can see so far!" you exclaimed quietly as you mounted the final step, pulling away from him by a few feet to look out across the scene. "Well, I bet you could see way further during the day. But still. How cool, John!"

He smiled, watching as you tested the strength of the hand rail before leaning against it cautiously, your head sweeping back and forth as you studied the inky horizon, dotted occasionally with flickering signs of life. There was a melancholic tang to the warmth he felt as he took in your excitement, your joy; this sort of small pleasure shouldn't be so novel to you, and it broke his heart just enough to color the moment.

Letting that feeling fall to the wayside, he leaned back against his own portion of the railing for a minute or two, fishing out the Jet container that sat in his pocket beside his smokes and hitting it quietly a couple of times. The pleasant, buzzing feeling of intoxication wrapping around his consciousness sent his head falling back laxly, lids heavy as he studied your silhouette against the moonlight, the lines of your body and the dancing form of your hair in the slight breeze. The smell of you in the air.

Nuzzling up close behind you after a beat, he wrapped his arms around your waist, pressing his cheek to your temple as he held you close. His heart sped up further, already racing from the amphetamines coursing through him, when you relaxed into his grip, the back of your head resting along his shoulder. The two of you had been enmeshed in whatever your little entanglement could be called for a bit, and you didn't ever seem uncomfortable with him, personally, but sometimes more intimate contact still made you a bit skittish.

For a few minutes, he appreciated the view along with you, rubbing your sides softly, massaging the dip in your lower back where you often complained of tension after a long day. Eventually, however, his hands wandered further, grazing softly over your breasts and smirking at how you sighed in response, lips sliding down to tuck against your throat. Between his physical adulation and the growing chill of the dark, your nipples pebbled quickly, his fingers alternating between playing with each of them, setting you to squirming against him. He toyed along your belt line for a beat, forcing your attention to where his touch was landing as he gently unbuttoned your pants and slid his hand inside.

"It's alright, I gotcha." he assured you, supporting your stiffening form easily as his index finger teased over your swollen peak through your underwear, feeling a growing wet spot that made his core ache.

"I'm dirty, John." you murmured, voice hushed with embarrassment, your face and throat just a bit warmer under his lips.

"You think I'm clean?" he teased in response, nibbling at your earlobe.

The slightly worried fidgeting you were doing continued for another minute or so, but the more the damp patch expanded under his touch, the less nervous you seemed; still high-alert, but drifting further and further into his touch. Soon, you were relying on him to support most of your weight as your hips moved themselves back and forth against his hand. He could feel, see the signs of you approaching your orgasm, but dragged his fingers up and down the length of your slit a few times to tease you, to drag out the moment. The tension made you whimper sharply, teeth closing around your lower lip in an attempt to silence yourself.

"Better keep it quiet, cutie. You'll get us caught." he murmured, low and close to your ear; the shudder that broke down your spine, vibrating through your back and into his chest, was delicious.

His cock was aching against your backside, throbbing with anticipation, and it was unbearable. Head spinning, his hand that had moved to knead absentmindedly at your hip slipped further to press at the back of your thigh, pushing your knee skyward until your foot caught on the lower bar of the rail, balancing your leg there until you took over, bracing it there yourself. This new position granted him more reach, his fingers swiping lower along your now slightly exposed entrance.

"Mm, John." you whispered. A warning.

"Trust me, baby." he breathed in reply, stroking over the velvety soft spot a few more times before moving his fingers back to your needy clit. He wanted to sink his fingers deep inside you, to feel you wrapped around any part of him in that base, primal way, but resisted the temptation, sensing your hesitation.

Your more open stance also granted him easier access to roll your bud between his fingers, and quickly you were dancing along that knife's edge once more, your heat and sounds and smell all overwhelming him at equal speed.

His need had reached a fever pitch, your squirming and whimpering shooting sparks down his spine; this, combined with his already high proclivity for sexual behavior on Jet, was more than enough to send him wrestling his cock free through his suddenly unzipped fly. Your shirt had bunched up in the back, leaving a sliver of flesh exposed that he fixated on as soon as he'd noticed it. Stroking himself a few times in the cool air, he pressed closer, the pierced underside of the head dragging along your smooth, soft skin and making him hiss.

Feeling any part of your body against him like that drove him instantly mad, and he had to focus almost entirely on you to ensure that he didn't blow past you on his way to the finish line. Fortunately, it wasn't an issue, as you moved your hand down on top of his, pressing down hard, and soon stiffened completely against him, burying your face in his shoulder as best as you could to muffle your cries as you came apart; he followed you almost instantly, your sounds overwhelming him as he shot all over the ground.

The two of you savored the bliss of your aftershocks for a moment, clinging to one another, but quickly he felt you attempting to right your clothing, and he allowed you to pull away a bit. Probably smart anyway; neither of you had exactly been silent towards the end, though he couldn't hear anyone ascending the stairs.

"You alright?" he asked as he set to fixing his pants. You nodded silently, smiling shyly at him as you reached for his hand.

"Aht, watch out. Don't, uh, step in that." he murmured, guiding you to his side before you made your way down, passing by a couple people who side-eyed you on your way back to your shared bed, set up at the top of the projector room. Laid down for the night, your cheek on his sternum, he'd assumed you were asleep when you finally spoke up for the first time in a while.

"John." you whispered softly.

"Hmm?" he replied, eyes closed as his hand stroked your back.

You hesitated a moment, blush-heavy and squirming.

"Is your...ah..."

He allowed you some time to try and get your words out, but it was clear you were struggling.

"You don't have to be embarrassed, babe. Whatever it is, you can ask me. I won't be upset or anything." he assured, rubbing your shoulder gently.

"...is your penis pierced?" you finally whispered conspiratorially.

He was genuinely shocked into silence for a few seconds before breaking out in uproarious laughter, his head rolling limply to and fro as you giggled along with him.

"Wow, you could tell against your back like that?" he asked, rather astonished.

"I wasn't sure it's what I was feeling." you replied, sheepish. "I'm sorry, I'm not trying to be weird about it or anything. I just didn't know that was a thing that people did. Then again, I didn't know people pierced things in their faces until I met that lady at The Third Rail. Remember?"

He chuckled warmly at the memory, at your candor and the pink dusting your face as you sat up a bit, still looking at him curiously.

"You look like you wanna ask me more questions about it." he said.

"Did it hurt?" you asked quickly.

"Eh, it's been such a long time since I got it, I don't really remember all that well." he white lied, fully knowing he didn't remember how badly it hurt for entirely different reasons.

You nodded, the wheels in your mind clearly turning rapidly.

"Does it, uh..." The effort of forcing the uncomfortable words out of your mouth was clear on your face. "...does it have a function, or is it just for looks? Like, do you use it?"

"Oh, yeah." he grinned, ignoring the way he had started to grow stiff again.

You didn't ask for more elaboration on that front, but your mystification was clear, gaze wandering as the very faint smell of your arousal tinged the air. Eventually, you spoke again.

"What made you wanna get it?"

This question, shockingly, was the one that stopped him in his tracks. He'd told you not to be embarrassed when you'd first brought it up, the whole thing rather entertaining to him, but something about this specific inquiry agitated the ugly knot of shame that permanently lived at his core, his own face and chest suddenly feeling flush.

Was there even a way to phrase the truth that wouldn't just be embarrassing? What was the low-key way to say I was incredibly fucked up on Ultrajet at the time and it just felt like the right thing to do, so I did it myself?

There's only one thing he could think to say that wouldn't completely demean himself in your eyes, and it came out on the back of a halfhearted chuckle.

"Don't do hard drugs, kid."

Your face was unreadable in response to that, only for a heartbeat, but long enough to make him physically squirm in discomfort. But you simply chuckled in a satisfied, incurious way, laying a sweet kiss against his cheek before tucking in. He had trouble sleeping that night, but also found it tough to look too long at your sleeping face.

Eventually, you two made your way back northwest, making a very careful sweep through Concord as you went along. Both of you had jokes about what had happened last time; neither of you said a single word until you were turning into the crumbled Red Rocket lot anyway. The very first thing you did after you dropped your pack onto the ground was climb up and double check that your vault suit was still tucked away where you'd left it. When you were satisfied with what you'd found, you unpacked your things and asked if he'd like to go over to "town" and say hello. He agreed, ready for a stiff drink after how tense he'd been on the way back.

You held hands as you crossed the bridge, and it was a real labor for him to not actively gloat at the guards you always passed. After procuring a drink from the fairly well-stocked bar, he noticed you surrounded by the usual flock of folks who wanted to chat and exchange stories, so he stepped outside. Wandering over to where the handful of ghouls who'd taken up residence in Sanctuary usually hung out in the evenings, congregating beneath a little patched-up awning on some decently nice lawn furniture, he easily folded himself into the conversation and made himself welcome.

A few long anecdotes and one too many cigarettes later, the sun was beginning to dip behind the treeline to the west, and he figured it was time to make a reappearance and collect you. However, when he wandered back into the bar, grabbing another beer on his way through, he didn't find you. Exiting through the only other door, he cast his eyes downhill towards the waterfront and found you standing there with someone he never saw you alone with: Preston Garvey.

The Minuteman second-in-command wasn't a bad guy by anyone's report, nor an especially exciting one, as far as John could tell. He was friendly, obviously eager to help out and have a positive impact on things around him, but he was also far too close to you for the ghoul's taste, and his heckles were raised high as he quickly made his way towards you. His sharp ears picked up on the conversation in progress, his steps unconsciously light and quiet.

"...just don't want you to have to deal with that, you know? People can be so awful, and you don't deserve that."

"That's very considerate of you." you replied politely, your eyes seemingly glued to the ground. "But your concern really isn't necessary, I promise."

John had largely closed the distance between himself and the pair of you, lingering about ten feet away, just far enough out that he didn't draw Garvey's eye as he approached. He hesitated to move closer, though, afraid of how he may react if things didn't go his way. The sweating beer bottle in his hand was already clenched tighter in his grip than was likely wise. His entire body felt like it was made of lead, dense and frozen and so heavy that he was sinking into the soft ground beneath him.

"Well, I won't act like I know what's best for you better than you do. I just wanted to say that I think you're great, and that I think you deserve someone who will treat you just as great." the younger man finished up, taking another quarter-step into your bubble and placing his hand against your cheek for a beat. This, alone, was enough to make John apoplectic, but when Preston had the gall to slide his crooked index finger under your chin and lift it your face towards his, he lost it for a split second, the glass vessel in his hand suddenly exploding into a plume of tiny shards, a crumbled, wet, sharp mess remaining in his bloodied grip. Fortunately, you seemed to teleport a few steps back, your hands up in a bit of a defensive gesture.

Every non-existent hair he had stood on end in that moment, his entire body coated with goosebumps as the realization that he was about to make a grave, grave mistake settled onto him. The broken remains of the bottle felt far too useful in his hand, suddenly, and he tossed the whole dripping thing to the ground before turning and pounding sandy soil up the embankment and back across the bridge. John wasn't necessarily one to lose his cool like this often, but he knew well enough that he needed somewhere to direct this anger before it boiled over in a major way.

Shoving the door open, he stomped past the few pieces of furniture you'd dragged in, coming to lean against the old counter top towards the back, the one that you'd told him you'd like to get rid of. However, the two of you had been unable to figure out how to extract the thing because it was welded to the floor. For a few weeks, he'd been pondering how to remove it cleanly to surprise you. He'd been unable to come up with anything thus far.

Something about the presence of the thing only fueled his breakdown, and he delivered a vicious kick to the side of it, the metal and vinyl folding and splintering where his foot met the side. Typically, this little bit of destruction and catharsis would've been enough to quell him into stopping. But seeing the evidence of his anger and his lack of self-control only made him feel like more of a fuck-up, like more of the undesirable, unstable junkie he often saw when he looked in the mirror, and the resulting rage was blinding. Before he knew it, he'd wrapped his arms around the lip of the thing, yanking it once, twice, then a third time with all the strength at his command, until the whole thing broke loose from the base where it had been sealed to the floor. Bits of rusted-out metal and fat splinters of rotted wood clattered to the floor as he swung around, forcing it through the doorway to his right and throwing the thing as hard as he possibly could. It flew further than he'd anticipated, arcing rather high and crashing through the moldy awning of one of the Concord homes down the hill. There was skittering, the flapping of wings in response, frightened creatures fleeing the sudden sound as John stood there in silence, the burning in his muscles and the pain in his hands finally allowing him to focus on something other than his ears ringing in anger. After a long, dizzy moment, he turned and went back into the living room area, slumping against the wall as he studied all the metal shards sticking out of the floor where the counter top had been.

"I thought maybe you'd left." your voice came suddenly from the doorway.

"Nah, I wouldn't do that do you." he replied, trying his hardest to mean it, to not be exactly that type of guy. He couldn't make himself look at you. "Just needed to get away for a bit. Didn't wanna do anything stupid."

"Honey, your hand." you pointed out as you came closer, brow furrowed with worry as he examined himself; the back of his scarred appendage was bleeding somewhat generously, sliced by a nail or something similar in his momentary tantrum. He felt nothing about the wound, any pain he'd felt from what he'd done quickly leaving his body as the smell of you quickly filled the small space, further clouding his already racing thoughts. His beer bottle hand was already healing rapidly.

"It's fine. It'll be fine." he barely muttered in reply, reaching out to grab you just firmly enough by the wrist to pull you close enough that he could give you a thorough once-over.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

You nodded, eyes wide, hair wild and cheeks ruddy as you gazed back at him like a startled doe.

For once in his life, not using the Jet hadn't helped the situation, seemingly. His head still spun with conflicting emotions and thoughts, every muscle still wired with energy from the adrenaline and from your general proximity, making him fidget and grasp for words as his body rebelled, reacting strongly to you. He was drowning in your scent, the tang of your sweat, but it was realizing that Garvey's smell still clung lightly to you from your brief contact that was the final straw.

Your heart raced under your skin, your pulse flying under the press of his fingertips as he pushed you firmly against the decrepit wall. You exhaled harshly through your nostrils, hands coming to knot themselves into his work flannel as his mouth pressed forward with its assault on yours. He expected you to begin to push him away using the shirt for leverage, but couldn't force himself to pull back first through the blinding possessive rage he felt.

John had always been more of a “free love” sort of guy most of his life, jumping from partner to partner without much thought or care, and, because he'd never put much emotional investment or time into any particular partner, had never really cared enough about another person to feel possessive of them. Jealousy was such a negative, ugly emotion that he hated to waste any of his time on it, but the fire he'd felt in his gut from the moment he'd watched that asshole place his fingers under your chin to tilt your face up, obviously angling for a kiss, could not be ignored. This was the final straw.

He'd heard the whispers of the people around Sanctuary, around every settlement and trade outpost; the speculations about why a woman like you would choose to travel with a ghoul as a companion, why you'd spend almost all your time with him, how you were so comfortable touching and being touched by him. Criticism from shitheads about his own actions and choices rolled off of him like water off a mirelurk shell, valid or not, but it stirred him up fiercely to hear these people you'd worked so hard for, given so much of yourself to, judge you, as if they had any room. Some of the more hateful ones called you a fetishist and a freak when they thought no one else could hear, and if it weren’t for you specifically asking him to not start trouble around the settlements unless you started it first, he would have made those people swallow their own teeth long ago.

Preston had added himself to that list the moment he made it clear that he pitied you for your choices.

John hadn’t previously had much problem with the guy, save for noticing the glint in his eye when he spoke with you. He couldn't necessarily begrudge him his attraction to you, though; you were, after all, the most beautiful woman in the Commonwealth, hands down. Beyond that, you were kind, generous, hardworking, and terrifyingly smart. You’d give the clothes off your back to anyone who needed them, and would offer a stranger your shoulder to cry on if they needed. It was nearly impossible to not fall in love with you, just a little. He knew; he had tried and failed as miserably as he'd ever failed at anything.

The guy’s feelings themselves weren't the problem, though; the problem was that he obviously thought himself some sort of contender for your affections. Or, he was trying to make himself one. It couldn't be tolerated. Hell, replace him with Edward Deegan, that rat McCready, or any other random man plucked out of the ether...the conclusion was the same, regardless. If this trespass was allowed, every man in the Commonwealth who fancied you or cut of your under suit would feel comfortable trying to pick you up right in front of him, and it'd be nothing but trouble for everyone involved. John's tolerance for everyone else encroaching on what was his had finally run dry.

His mouth found the side of your throat, placing open-mouthed kisses and sharp nips the way he knew you liked in a beeline from your clavicle to your ear. When you squirmed, letting out an airy moan as you yanked him closer, he latched onto your pulse point and sucked, bathing the skin with his tongue hard enough to leave a spotted, wine-colored mark that you wouldn't be able to hide the next day. You liked that, too, but you’d never admit it out loud.

Well, unless he made you, maybe...

A low, drawn out moan escaped your mouth, your hands moving up to cup the back of his head, pulling him still closer. He obliged you, pressing the line of his entire body against you, making you feel his throbbing need against your belly, and you whimpered in response, your hands finding the top button of his flannel and beginning to work it open.

He paused his ministrations, reaching up to cup your cheek gently, your own fingers stalling for a single beat as he gazed into your eyes, trying to reassure you that he wasn’t upset with you. And he wasn’t. You hadn’t done anything wrong. But he was upset at that guy’s uncharacteristically bold actions, his disregard of his place in your life. The disregard of the others. The disrespect.

He needed to assert his place. He needed to show you how he felt.

Promptly, he resumed his ministrations. By the time you'd managed to undo the last cracked button, he’d left a huge, oblong purple bruise along the side of your elegant throat.

“John,” you whispered in between harsh breaths, your hands moving to yank the thin shirt over your head. “I want you.”

The tone of your voice was sure and clear despite how it trembled. When he fully looked up to your face, you were gazing at him dreamily, your brow furrowed with effort as your hips began to move, trying to find some friction against his. Just like the previous night, like every night, he could clearly see your desire, your trust, in the way you gazed at him. Still, though, a tug of guilt in his chest had him chastising himself as he hesitated; he should protect you and tell you to not do this. Not only because of the societal response you could expect for being with a ghoul, but because he was far from anyone’s ideal man. He didn’t deserve you. He wasn’t sure he could be everything you needed, and wasn’t sure a man even existed on Earth who could be all that a divine woman like you deserved.

Even knowing this, he couldn't pull himself away from you. The overwhelming desire he'd felt since the moment you'd met burned too hot in his gut, long transformed from a deep want to a need.

“John.” you repeated, slightly louder though just as winded, and it sunk in just how much you made it feel like his name again.

His head dropped to your shoulder, kissing across it placidly for a moment. Your hands traveled up his back, eventually moving up to grab the tricorn from his head and toss it onto the counter beside you. He felt the warm bloom of self-consciousness as you pecked along his bald head gingerly, your lips feeling extra plush against his ruined skin.

“This really what you want, sunshine?” he asked, forehead coming to rest against your own as his hands rubbed your sides.

You didn’t respond vocally, but instead reached out to stroke his cheek like he had yours, thumb swiping back and forth for a few moments. There was a silence, but a warm, comfortable one that wrapped you together in your own little bubble. When your eyes met again, he had his answer.

He led you by your soft hand to the next room, ditching his shirt, the two of you dropping onto the mattress in the corner, chuckling at the plume of dust that rose from the thing as you cuddled close. Your hands absentmindedly petted at him, one twiddling at one of the frayed tails of his shirt, averting your eyes. Soon, the unoccupied hand began to move down his chest, stroking the wiry muscle of his exposed torso. Your palm was warm and soft against him as you explored his chest, eyes following your hand as it slowly moved lower. He tensed a bit as your hand swept along his abdominals ticklishly, fingertips dipping below the waistband of his jeans. You hesitated a moment, your fingers retreating slightly to sweep back and forth along the upper seam, toying with the loose threads there.

John was radiating tension at the way you were touching him; you had never been quite this bold before, and his head swam with the overwhelming amount of emotion that he felt as your fingers began to dip below again, shyly. He was proud of you, knowing how much work you’d put into getting over your nerves to get to this point; at the same time, he was beyond touched that he was the man you’d chosen to share these milestones with. Both of these tender feelings made the overwhelming arousal he felt at your soft hands on his body a little embarrassing.

His breath caught in his throat when the tips of your fingers lightly brushed his erection, the sound odd. You froze, eyes moving to his to assess; he gave you a small head shake to convey that you hadn’t hurt him or anything, his usually silver tongue caught in his throat.

Given the green light, you slid your hand just a little further down, warm against the side of his shaft as you gently explored; your ginger poking and prodding was unpracticed, almost clinical, your hand trembling a little as you made him squirm. He was already rock hard, electricity sparking from where you touched him, and his frazzled emotional state didn’t help in the slightest. He gave a little grunt, trying to remain quiet and calm but feeling a mounting need to touch you, to kiss you, to hold you down against the filthy mattress and make you come undone.

He wanted you naked.

Generally, when you two got to fooling around, you were more than okay with him touching you both over and under your clothes, and you responded to him beautifully, making it easy to figure out what you liked and what you didn’t. However, you were often very nervous to fully remove your clothes when he made it clear he actually wanted to touch you. In the past several weeks you’d been so bold as to let him push up the hem of your shirts or open the blouse of your dresses to softly fondle and kiss your breasts, which you held and shielded with your hands when he wasn’t directly touching them, your face dusted with a dusky, embarrassed blush.

It hurt him terribly to see that you doubted your own beauty; if he had his way, he would spend every day from here to the next end of the world showing you how gorgeous you really were. But at the same time, the lingering shyness you demonstrated drove him wild.

A sharp inhale left his mouth when you suddenly wound your index finger lightly around the head of his cock, the softly calloused pad collecting some of the precum that dribbled from the slit and dragging along his piercing. You jumped a little at the sound, but when he looked at you in the dim light, your eyes were wide and the corners of your mouth were turned up ever-so-slightly in an expression of gentle confidence. He didn’t dare interrupt you, not wanting to risk throwing you off whatever wave you were currently on, instead tucking what remained of his lower lip between his teeth as you shimmied a little closer to him, the new proximity granting you a little more length of your arm to slide into his pants.

When your soft fingers curled all the way around his shaft, he nearly lost himself.

He cried out, the sound embarrassing and dragging out as you moved your grip on him up and down, slowly, hesitantly, his face burning with the shameful realization that he’d nearly cum in his pants like a teenager from a single touch from you. He was grateful his blush couldn’t be read on his tarnished skin as he dropped his face to your shoulder once more, placing a series of little kisses across the tan softness there as your blush began to work it's way down to your chest. One of his hands swept down your spine, caressing you softly as it slipped low and came to rest in the small of your back.

“Fuck.” he grunted, his jaw clenched tight as you continued your gentle ministrations, “I wanna see you, baby. Please.”

Your hand paused for a moment, giving a couple more gentle strokes before pulling back. When he lifted his head again, you were looking at him straight-on.

“Only if I get to see you, too.” you replied simply, your voice just above a whisper.

He was surprised at that; John had no real issues being a ghoul, but generally made it a practice to stay mostly clothed during sex for the ease of things (and, you know, just in case someone decides they don’t like what they see). His shirt was already hanging open, exposing his chest to you, but he went shirtless or open shirted frequently, both at home and on the road. It wasn’t an unfamiliar sight to you. He pulled back from you a bit to straighten up, his hands coming to work the fly of his jeans down as he gazed back at you, lips swollen and throat heavily marked where you sat, leaning back against the moldering wall.

“Deal.”

At that, you sat up more yourself, fingers slowly moving up to work the clasps on the back of your now well-worn bra loose. John stood and busied himself removing his jeans, taking a few extra seconds to fold them before placing them on the floor with his boots. As much as he wanted to stare at you, to fix his gaze on you and savor every moment of your undressing, he knew it would make you anxious or self-conscious, and willed himself to keep his eyes on the floor or the wall for a minute. When he looked back over, you were stripped down to just your panties, your knees drawn up to your chest, obscuring your breasts from his view as you watched him, waiting.

He felt a sudden and unexpected wave of self-consciousness as your eyes traced over his almost-naked form, straining to make out the details of him in the rapidly fading light. He was grateful that night was falling. Following your lead, he left his boxers on and returned to the bed, sitting down gently beside you. You responded by leaning towards him, leaning your head on his shoulder. A few quiet moments passed, the only sounds the creaking of the ancient place's frame and the wind in the trees outside.

"Nervous?" he asked, unable to help himself.

You nodded, but softly; he cupped your face lovingly, kissing you a few times and feeling you relax towards him just enough that he could maneuver you down onto your back. Giggling, your smooth palms ran along his own body in turn, coming to rest along the crown of his head as he laid kisses down your torso. An approving hum escaped you as he let his tongue lathe across one of your nipples, a hand teasing along your mound, but you froze up a bit when he moved towards your stomach. Feeling your tension, he pulled up just enough to look at you.

"I'm sorry. It's not you." you said, eyes avoiding his.

"I know it isn't, honey. It's alright. You didn't do anything wrong. Just relax, okay?"

Your eyes closed, hands petting at his head in soft affirmation as he dragged his lips along your soft skin, minding the few pale scars that decorated it. He could tell you were self-conscious about how soft you were in the middle, but he loved it, resisting the urge to sink his teeth into the plushness. More than once, a simple little peek at your tummy when you were reaching up or changing had been enough to turn him on so badly he'd had to excuse himself for a bit. You'd be incredibly sexy pregnant, he often thought. Moving lower, he switched up and laid some playful bites along the inside of your right thigh, and you let out the most adorable little squeak.

However, when he let his lips ghost over your bare mound for the first time, a heavy shudder broke down your back, your other noises choking down to nothing. It took a great deal of self-control, but he managed to drag out teasing you for a bit, barely letting his breath tickle you before peeking his tongue out to take a small swipe at your folds. He deeply suspected that he wouldn't last long once he finally made it inside you, and he wanted to make sure you were completely satisfied before that happened.

Soon, the temptation to dive straight into you got to him, and he closed his lips around your puffy clit, lapping and bathing it with the tip of his tongue. You cooed at the sensation, grasping at the back of his head and grinding your hips forward. He grinned, delving deeper into your most sensitive place. Quickly, you were trying your best to fuck his face, rubbing your slit along his tongue and nose until he was forced to hold your hips down, wriggling and writhing until you were calling out his name and coating his tongue in your taste.

He was lightheaded from how much blood had rushed to his groin by the time he lifted his head from yours, giving you a second to breathe and regain your vision before pulling himself on top of you. Petting and stroking his favorite parts of you, he found himself lost in admiration for a long second, holding his gaze on your face until you finally looked back at him. There was an electricity in the air between the two of you, a magnetism drawing him in until you were close enough to share breath.

A terse little noise left your throat when the head of him first touched you, just barely laying against you, nestled in the fold where your thigh met the rest of you. Though he’d anticipated it (advancing to a “new step”, as it were, always made you a touch anxious and jumpy at contact, but John’s skin crawled at the idea that he might be doing something to you that you didn’t want), his immediate instinct was to pull away, to hold you and tell you that the pair of you didn’t have to do this, that he cared for you for reasons other than what he could take from your body, and that it would kill him if you didn't feel that. But the way you wrapped your arms around his narrow shoulders, burying that beautiful face against the weathered side of his neck as you tried to pull yourself closer, steadied him. You wanted this, and he wanted to give it to you.

He rested there for a minute or two, not moving, letting you adjust to his presence and listening to your breathing. It was shaky, and he dropped his chin to place a few kisses along the crown of your head, lingering with each. Slowly, he brought a hand to your chest and gently groped your breast, thumb circling your nipple tightly in the way he knew made you crazy, earning a couple quiet whimpers from your lips. You loosened your grip on his neck a little, relaxing back onto the bed enough to allow him to kiss you again, his mouth distracting you while his free hand slipped down to grip his erection, giving it a firm squeeze to alleviate the nearly unbearable pressure he felt as he slid it against you.

He broke away from you before he was aware what was happening, pulling his mouth back to moan as he really felt the silky wet heat of you against him for the first time. Pins and needles of pleasure bloomed up his spine and across his scalp; he was so close to what he’d been fantasizing about for almost a year, what he’d spent so many late nights and hazy jet-fueled afternoons jerking off thinking about. Again, he throbbed dangerously, threatening to blow his load before he was ready.

Forcing himself to focus, to come back into his own body a bit and retreat from the heady pleasure he was slipping into, he braced himself and slid the blunt head along your wet little seam, collecting your lubrication as he stroked over your clit, the swipe of the little metal bar making you shudder. To his surprise, while you were trembling and he could still smell fear pheromones in the air, you let out a moan, your hips shifting to work against his, rubbing yourself back against him. Seeing you growing bolder in your actions, compared to how anxious and tense you'd been before, made his heart and his cock swell simultaneously.

“Fuck, you’re so wet, baby.” he hissed, unable to keep a better handle on his filthy mouth; you responded with a sultry hum, seemingly appreciating his words but unsure how to respond. Your hips continued to cant against his, your breathing uneven, face pulled taunt in concentration. He groaned at the sight, rubbing himself against you a little faster. All the better if you came again before he slid home, he figured.

After another few minutes of continuing to stroke at your hard nub, you shuddered under him once more, moaning low and throaty as another rush of that shiny slick coated him. God, he’d been addicted to a lot of things in his life, but the best thing by far, and the only one he’d never be able to kick, was the sounds you made as you unraveled. No one else had ever heard your most intimate song, your sotto little moans and whimpers as you experienced feelings you'd been convinced you couldn’t feel before.

Pulling himself up from you just a little, his hand left his member and came up to brush your hair from your face once again, gently stroking your downy, flushed cheek as you worked to catch your breath. Never before had he wished he had a camera so badly; between your fully nude state beneath him, your kiss-bruised pout and throat, the wild crown of soft hair, and the way your deep, dark eyes beckoned to him as they slowly slid open, you were the most gorgeous sight he’d ever taken in. Cupping your face with both hands, he leaned in slowly, your eyes lingering on one another as he pulled you gently into another kiss. He wondered if you could taste yourself on his tongue.

For a few moments, he allowed the pair of you to fall back into you usual pattern of kissing; advancing, gently teasing, withdrawing before resurging once more like the sea. Slowly, his right hand pulled itself from your face, softly brushing the side of your breast and rib cage as it slipped further south. Fingers ghosting just barely over your mound, he gripped his aching cock where it hung heavy between you, giving a light squeeze around the shaft as he repositioned himself slightly, lining up. As the head of him nestled against your opening, you gave a small whimper, pulling back just enough to disconnect your mouths, lips brushing his as you spoke.

“John.”

He waited a long moment for you to say more, but you seemed unable to force whatever you wanted to say out.

“You ready?” he asked gently, voice a soft murmur against your mouth. His body was tense as he awaited your response, ready to pull back if needed, but you wordlessly cuddled up to him again and let out a deep sigh, wrapping your legs just a little tighter around his waist. Peppering your jaw and throat with small, distracting kisses, he pressed forward a bit, undulating his hips back and forth a few times until the head slipped fully inside. You tensed a bit, and he set to marking up the other side of your throat, drawing your attention and making you gasp and hum as he worked his way further inside.

When about half his length had been worked inside, he took a pause, sitting up a little higher to check on you, finding you staring shyly at him, worrying away at your lower lip. Your face morphed a bit when he gave a couple of thrusts of equal depth, and he watched you processing the new sensations, bringing his thumb to your clit again. Breathing heavily in response, you shuddered, and he let a low moan slip himself when you started to work your hips back and forth in a crude arc.

The way you were wriggling and clenching already beneath him set his hips to moving further, faster. Every muscle in his back and flanks burned with withheld strength, effort to not literally fuck you through the mattress, but eventually he'd built up to full-length strokes, using whatever bounce remained in the decrepit springs to move you easily back and forth along his length.

Taking in the bruising along the sides of your throat where he'd been kissing and sucking at your skin, John hummed approvingly, nuzzling you and taking a deep lungful of your rich scent. The lingering edge of his own smell that coated you turned him on more than he'd have thought, and he gave a much harder buck than he'd intended.

"Oh, f-" you gulped at the sudden stab before silencing yourself, the word he wanted to hear so badly teasing across his ears and sending him gnawing along your shoulder again.

"Go on, honey." he growled, his hips steadily picking up their pace, body pinning yours just a little harder. "Say it."

You didn't reply, your face as red as he'd ever seen it as his fingers moved to your abused clit again, earning a pitiful whimper as he began to rub at you again.

"Beg me to fuck you. I wanna hear you say it, baby. I need it."

"John...!" you gasped as he flicked the tip of his finger just right; however, he paused completely when you still refused to say the magic words, simply applying pressure near where you wanted it as he continued to pound away at you.

"Mmm." you whined, clenching around him over and over, those big eyes brimming with tears.

"Tell me."

"F-fuck! Fuck me, John! God!" you finally spat, everything tense and twitching and spinning as he fully let himself go, wrenching one of your legs up onto his shoulder and driving as hard into you as he felt he could let himself without splitting you in two, his fingers back at work. You squirmed under him at the almost punishing pace, fingernails digging firmly into his back; the pain made him growl again, and the sound was seemingly enough to push you over that edge, squeezing and fluttering around him fast and firm as you gasped and sputtered his name.

He was able to hold out for a few more strokes, his hips stuttering as the pins and needles creeping up his spine began to fully wash over him.

“God, baby, I love you.” he huffed breathlessly, overwhelmed and not giving you a moment to respond as his mouth crashed into yours once more. He couldn’t bring himself to feel bad or embarrassed for saying it; he did love you. He loved everything about you, and every day he loved you more and more.

Your reply, whether you'd fully heard what he’d said or not, was to throw your arms around his neck and kiss him back deeply as your bodies continued to glide across one another, yours faltering and growing limp as he crested the peak.

John had never really wanted kids before. He felt himself far too unreliable, too unlike someone anyone should look up to as a father figure. However, that didn't stop the most primal part of his brain from whispering to him how perfect it would be to knock you up, for everyone to see you full to the brim with his child and know that you were his and only his.

"Fuck, I wanna cum inside you." he growled, quickly following up with "I can't get you pregnant." when you made worried, bleary eye contact. Your responding whimper made his gut tighten, hot and sharp and so ready, but he also felt a sting of guilt behind his breast at what felt too close to a lie. Still, when you fluttered around him hard once more, it was the end, his head falling heavily into the crook of your neck, his moans filling your ear as he filled you completely, throbbing into you again and again as you clung to him.

He wasn't sure how long he laid there, almost all of his weight pressing down on you until he regained the presence of mind to hold himself up a bit. Both of you panted like you'd been fleeing for your lives, exposing your overheated skin to the cool air while still desperately holding one another. There was so much racing through his mind, thoughts and creeping worries, but his exhausted body rebelled, refusing to allow him to even sit up. You appeared similarly situated, fighting your way into a comfortable position across his chest before letting your eyes close heavily. Quickly, your breathing fell even and gentle, your hair wild as it laid across his ribs. Somehow, you still looked so innocent to him.

Quickly, he followed you into sleep, clutching you close with no shame, his mind fogged with the smell of him all over you.

It was the chill of the very early morning air licking at your slightly exposed back that began to rouse you several hours of deep sleep later, a shiver breaking out up and down your spine as you curled yourself up closer to the man beneath your arm, staving off having to pull away and get up for a few more minutes by sapping his ample body heat as he snored lightly, blissfully unaware. You drew in a long, deep breath, stretching your back as best as you could without moving too much as the very familiar smell of him filled your lungs; tobacco, cologne, and that slight smell all ghouls seemed to carry that was somewhat like an old book. It was a great comfort to you, and soon you felt yourself beginning to drift back off into the inky embrace of sleep.

However, just a few moments later you began to feel the nagging tickle of your full bladder beginning to protest your posture, the feeling rapidly becoming more urgent as you laid there, trying your hardest to ignore it. You huffed, cursing your incredibly regular bathroom schedule mentally. Resigning yourself to your fate, you gently rolled onto your back, giving you just enough space from your still snoring partner to slowly sit up and look around the formerly abandoned gas station.

It was early, the night still holding its grip on the room as the sunrise struggled to break its way through the windows. Grasping around, you found your Pip Boy, strapping it onto your arm quietly as you rose from the floor where the two of you had constructed your makeshift bed set, tucking the blanket around your partner’s still snoring form as you gave another shudder, casting a glance around the room again in search of your jacket. When you didn’t locate it immediately, you made your way for the door, grabbing John’s long red coat from the table near the door where he’d left it instead, wrapping it tight around your naked body as you quickly padded outside. It wasn’t worth waking John up early if you didn’t have to just to turn your flashlight on.

Winding your way around the corner of the place, eyes scanning your surroundings for any new threats, you quickly made your way to the tree line in the back yard, picking a concealed spot before bunching the coat’s tails up around your waist to squat.

You hunched there, nose and toes freezing in the crisp air, and closed your eyes, trying to hurry though your task but distracted by your brain’s undeniable urge to run though last night’s events again in your mind, to dissect each moment for meaning and for the ability to store the memory away for later.

There were so many moments you wanted to keep hold of, turning each one over carefully in your mind as you cleaned yourself up, your walk back to the Rocket much less urgent; the way he’d pressed you against the wall, the heat of his insistent kisses and gropes, the sound he’d made as he lost himself deep inside you.

The sound of his rough voice, cogent, but overwhelmed, as he’d told you he loved you.

Your pulse raced as you remembered how those words hit you, how you’d struggled to try to return them against his smothering kiss. You’d loved him for what felt like eons now, and you were indescribably excited to have broached this particular milestone, despite the mild lingering doubts that he’d only been lost in the moment when he said it. The closeness you'd been building ever since you'd been introduced had always felt so easy, so natural, and so foreign to you, that you concluded it could really only be love.

As your bare feet stepped up onto the front stoop of the place you'd begun to see as home, you could hear the familiar sound of John’s lighter striking, your pace picking up as you hurried down the short hall to see him sitting up on the dingy mattress on the floor, tossing the old gold-plated lighter a bit to the side, onto his folded pile of clothes. Gaze lifting to appraise your body lazily as his head turned to face you, freshly lit cigarette dangling loosely between his thin lips, he smirked at you as you hurried across the cold floor, coat drawn tight around you.

“Well, ain’t this a pleasant surprise.” he mused, voice thick with sleep as he took a long drag, his face briefly lit up by the red-orange glow of the burning tobacco as he slowly looked you up and down. “I can’t lie, wearing my coat’s a real hot look on you, babe. Then again, you could wear a tato sack and look just as sexy. You really don’t need to try.”

Your cheeks burned with discomfort at the positive attention you were receiving, but at the same time, you giggled and felt a warm sensation deep in your stomach, standing a little taller as you approached. Shifting down onto your knees as you saddled up beside him, you kissed him on the cheek and leaned against him, seeking warmth beneath the blanket.

“Cold this morning!” you exclaimed, chattering your teeth as you snuggled your head into his firm chest. John wasn’t a large man in terms of his general build, but the muscle tone he did have was deceptively strong due to his ghoulification. He chuckled at your dramatic show of discomfort, slinging his free arm around you to hold you close, leaning back to blow his latest drag away from you.

“Sleep good?” he asked, rough palm rubbing comfortingly up and down your back, making the lightest of scratching sounds against the old wool.

“Oh, like the dead.” you replied, eyes peeking open to look up at him. “Better than I think I ever have before. I only even woke up because I was chilly.”

“You did seem like you were out pretty good. I woke up for a few a couple hours ago to readjust a bit but I was out. Turns out having the most gorgeous woman in the Commonwealth laying naked across your chest is quite the sleep aid.”

You blushed again as he threw a wink at you, giggling as you sank down further under the cover, your head coming to rest in his lap, the bit of blanket over his groin bunching up at the back of your neck. John had always been very flirtatious with you; he was a flirtatious man by nature, sometimes using it to disarm people, but he was also honest, and you knew he wouldn’t tell you anything he didn’t mean. You could see his attraction to you, the affection he held for you in his deep, soulful eyes when he looked at you, too, and it made you feel genuinely beautiful and not just objectified for the first time you could ever remember.

John finished his cigarette above you, discarding the butt by tossing it in the little sack in the corner for trash and junk, before leaning down over you, peppering your hairline, then your forehead and cheeks, with soft kisses, his rough lips brushing you gently. Working his way slowly down your face, he paused when your mouths aligned, bringing one hand down to cup your cheek.

“Think I’ve got a joint already rolled in the right pocket of my coat. Wanna split it?” he asked, voice low and soft, just a hair above a whisper. He was so close that his lips brushed yours and his body heat soaked into your face like you were laid out in the sun.

“Sounds wonderful.” you whispered, leaning up to kiss him. His hand on your cheek slid around to the back of your head, cradling you against him as you smooched one another. In no rush to pull away, you stayed in his lap until he pulled back from you on his own before sitting back up, fishing around in the pockets of the old coat until you felt the little hand rolled cigarette, careful to not crush or bend it as you held it out to him.

“You wanna go first?” he asked, sifting through the pool of fabric beside him for his discarded lighter. “I’ll light it for you if you want.”

You thought for a moment, and then shook your head. You still weren’t confident enough smoking marijuana to not worry about looking silly. “Nah, I’m not sure I’m cool enough for the first hit yet.”

A warm, raspy chuckle met your ears in response as he placed the joint between his lips, hand cupped over his face as he attempted to light it. The slight breeze that danced across the floor kept catching the flame, bending it before snuffing it out. You drew yourself closer once more, bringing your own hands up alongside his, expanding the shield and allowing him to light it. He smirked at you as he drew in the first hit, holding it in deep as he held the smoldering joint out to you; you grasped it between your thumb and forefinger, feeling self conscious as you lifted it to your lips and inhaled a small amount. When you offered the thing back to him, he insisted you have another, so a second little puff disappeared up into the air.

“Taking awfully small hits there.” he teased as he accepted the joint back.

You blushed, looking down to the tattered blanket that covered your bodies haphazardly.

“It’s just really harsh and I don’t wanna die coughing!” you gave a little chuckle as you spoke. You toyed with a loose thread for a moment before continuing. “Do you think you could do that thing again where you, uh, pass it to me? It doesn’t make me cough nearly as much that way.”

He chuckled as he inhaled another hit, his voice strained as he held it during his reply.

“If you want me to kiss on you, babe, you can just ask. You don’t have to ask me to shotgun weed to you as an excuse.” he jested, leaning towards you, chin tilted down as he angled towards your mouth. You smiled at him as your lips met, his parting as you inhaled his exhale. This time, your lungs didn’t burn at all, but you could feel more of a head change as you pulled back, lips pursed for a long moment before exhaling the rich tasting smoke into the cool air, the tendrils dissipating lazily above your head.

Your hands slid further across the floor behind you, leaning back a little, head cocked in John’s direction, watching him as he took another hit. When he tilted his chin at you again a moment later, you accepted another kiss, another puff, your body sinking a few inches deeper into the pool of tingling warmth you were beginning to feel. Your eyes felt weighty, and your lids drifted closed for a moment in response to the general feeling of peace; when they opened again, he was raking his eyes up and down the exposed sliver of your torso and stomach that was revealed by the gaping, unbuttoned coat opening as you leaned back. Briefly, you felt the familiar urge to cover yourself, but you let it pass, trying to bask in your lover’s attention. You liked when he looked at you.

Things stayed like that between you for a while, the deep indigo of the room slowly fading into lighter hues of periwinkle as the warmth of the rising sun outside began to seep in, the world beginning its gradual awakening as the earliest birds began to sing in the distance. You shared more nips between you, the kisses after each stolen breath growing longer, deeper with each pass, tongues tasting one another languidly as you moved closer over time. The joint was growing short in John’s fingers, and you watched him evaluate it from where your head was resting on the point of his shoulder, your arms wrapped around the arm he was using to support himself.

“Probably one good hit left. Want any more?” he asked, taking a long inhale as the little roach lit up bright red.

You nodded silently, shifting up and scooting in more, hip to hip with him as your lips met once more. You kissed again, but this kiss felt different, the air electrified. Your body felt sluggish and heavy in the most pleasant way, a warm thrum building up between your thighs as you felt yourself begin to slick.

He pulled himself up, now free arm coming to wrap around your waist; you anticipated him pulling you a little closer, but instead, he used his strength to lift you with the one arm, gently swinging you into his lap and pulling a surprised little giggle from you, trailing into a slight cough as the last hit you’d shared left your lips and disappeared into the air. After a moment, you’d cleared your throat successfully and settled yourself, feeling your cheeks heat up just a little when the cleft of your ass pressed down onto his manhood through the thin blanket, finding it stiff. Your lower lip drew between your teeth as you slowly allowed your eyes to meet his, your arms winding around his neck as he smirked at you.

You exchanged a few more kisses, his hands slowly moving up your sides beneath the open coat, stroking you softly. Though his skin was rough and whorled, the radiation emanating from within producing an energy all its own, his touch was a great comfort and only made you relax further; there was no pain to be had from his hands, only pleasure, your body told you. Slackening further against his chest, you wound your palms up and down his torso, eyes following them, dipping your fingers lower and lower into the darkness under the blanket each time.

When John’s hands slowly ran back up, passing the sides of your breasts to tuck into the sleeves of the coat and sliding it ever so slightly down your shoulders, you made eye contact once more, his hands pausing as he looked at you, very clearly asking permission in the nonverbal way you’d come to develop. You hesitated for a breath before pulling your hands back, straightening your arms to allow him to tug the heavy garment the rest of the way off, laying it on the bedroll behind you as you leaned forward again, curling up against him as his arms wrapped around your bare back.

You still felt the unease, the trembling feeling in your stomach as you reclined nude in his lap, but to a much lesser degree than you ever had before, more a sensation of excited embarrassment than ashamed embarrassment, and you’d felt enough of the latter to know the difference. Leaning up just enough to look into his face, you smiled a little at him as his hands continued to stroke your back lovingly.

“How’s your ride, sunshine?” he asked after another few quiet moments passed, now stroking your sleep-mussed hair.

Grinning, you closed your eyes and leaned back the few inches you could for a moment. you felt pleasantly weighty and simultaneously floaty, swaying just a little as you hummed.

“I feel great. Good sleep and now this? I haven’t been this relaxed in quite a while.” you mused, bringing one hand up to cup his rough cheek, thumb sweeping along his thin lower lip. “Though, I don’t think last night hurt me on that front, at all. In fact, I have a theory about why I slept so well...”

Despite always feeling a certain degree of nervousness, exposure at your genuine expression of attraction, you tried hard to give the energy John gave you back to him, to reassure him that you wanted and...loved him as much as he did you. You always tried to return his flirtation in equal degrees, something you didn’t think he was quite used to. The hesitation you felt, the tension within holding you back when you wanted to love him loudly, enthusiastically, was a burden of your own and not one that you wanted to saddle him with. You knew that, as much as he may embrace and shield himself with his image as Hancock, wild, free-loving party-time mayor of Goodneighbor, in reality, John McDonough was really a very insecure man. Particularly after yesterday's events, which you were loathe to bring up directly, especially since he seemed to be in such an improved mood.

He smiled at you, wide and bright and genuine, very clear even in the still relative darkness of the room, leaning forward to kiss you again. Your legs wrapped around his hips tighter as the kiss deepened, pulling your bodies flush together as his mouth broke away from yous, trailing across your cheek, down your jaw and the column of your throat, settling in the hollow of your neck, bathing you with his tongue in that way that sent electric shocks down your spine. Combined with the tickling sensation of his heavy breath in your ear as he licked and kissed you, you quickly began squirming in his lap, flushing bright red in your hiding place against his shoulder.

The only thing that separated your bodies now was the thin fabric of the tattered blanket, and as you attempted to press yourself closer to him, you could feel him even clearer beneath you, prodding your inner thigh as you both slightly undulated against one another. To your surprise, you felt none of the typical seizing fear at the sensation, only more want; you buried your face further into his neck and let out a pitiful little whimper, hips grinding down harder.

John grunted in return, arms around you clenching just a little tighter as he throbbed noticeably against you. Your stomach tightened at this, the previously chilly room suddenly way too warm.

“John.”

His name left your lips for the umpteenth quietly, a tiny little huff of sexual frustration so quiet it barely touched your own ears, but seemed to reach his fine, as he squeezed you once more in response, holding you much firmer this time as his hips shifted beneath your own, arcing to rub himself along your increasingly sensitive seam. His lips left the spot they’d been tending to on your neck, nipping and sucking their way back up to your ear, breathless as he spoke to you in the hushed tone of a needy lover.

“Wanna go again?”

The question wasn’t just for show; no matter how insistently he was grinding himself against you, how desperately his hands may grasp you, you could say no if you wanted. No guilt tripping, no anger, no coercion. But knowing that only made you want him more, made you want to push away your option to refuse him even more insistently, even as you trembled in his lap.

Your lips found his throat, kissing at it sweetly and breathing wantonly to him, almost embarrassed by your own needy tone as you replied.

“Yes, please.”

Your body was loose and weighty as he lowered you down onto your back, the wool of his coat warm against your skin once more as he laid you down, the blanket falling away from his body and yours as you readjusted. He was kissing you again, rather chastely this time as his own warm body spread over top of yours, shielding you as he slowly kissed his way down your neck, across your chest, ghosting down across your breasts. As he moved his body further, he uncovered more and more of your own to the room, increasingly bright with the coming sunrise.

Pulling himself up onto his haunches between your feet, his hands stroked you gently as your heavy eyelids drifted shut. Rough palms brushed the sides of your breasts, cupping and groping them almost reverently, his breathing increasingly strained as his palms continued their southward exploration. You flinched a little as he brushed across the expanse of your midsection, which had grown softer during your time in Goodneighbor, but when he dropped his head to lightly kiss you there, you couldn’t help but giggle, gingerly cradling his head as he peppered your belly and hips with pecks.

Distracted by his gentle affections, you didn’t notice his other hand sliding up through the sheets before you felt him softly grab at the back of your thigh, sliding up over and across your hip as he sat up straight, leaving you pretty much entirely exposed. A little shudder ran up your spine, and you peeked at his face through barely open lids, watching him as he watched you. His left hand slid back up to knead and brush your breasts with his fingertips, swapping back and forth between the two as his right hand stroked the sensitive median between your naval and your mound. You bit back a giggle at the slight tickling sensation, instead giving a shudder as his fingers dipped lower, softly petting over the damp, dark curls that framed you.

Ever patient and ready to put in the work to prepare you, to move at your speed, he stayed that way for a while, paying thorough attention to your sensitive breasts while lightly teasing your apex, slowly re-acclimating you to his touch between your legs. As you slowly felt yourself building towards something, you relaxed, letting your thighs fall open further, and John took this as his sign to increase the boldness of his touches, sliding only the very tip of his long middle finger right down your slit. You gasped a little at the electric, but brief feeling of his rough finger pad ghosting over your swollen, sensitive bud.

Your eyes slowly slid back open, fixed on his face as he repeated these touches over and over for a few moments, his own dark gaze pinned on his hand as he stimulated you. Working to slick itself in response to his touch, your body gave a few little clenches around nothing, making you shiver as arousal wrapped around you in a ticklish gossamer curtain.

"I wanna try something." you blurted, garnering a sudden glut of confidence. John smiled at you curiously, pulling back enough to allow you some room to move.

You yanked yourself over him with far less grace than you'd have liked, but he didn't seem to notice in the slightest, his eyes glued boldly to the way your breasts bobbed and swayed with your moves. Peppering his mouth and face with kisses, you gave his chest a gentle push to urge him down fully onto his back. Your lips trailed down slowly, exploring the whorled skin of his chest, and he smirked at you, the tent he was pushing at you twitching. It was only now, this close and lingering, that you'd noticed he only had one nipple, the other simply absent along the plane of scarred muscle.

Pushing yourself further down his legs, your face came to around his navel and you pulled back to look at him, studying his reaction as you let your fingers play gently over his covered erection. A hiss flew from between his teeth, the sound vibrating just right down your spine and pushing you to grip him more firmly through the sheet, stroking back and forth slowly as you lowered yourself down onto your belly.

John was watching you incredibly close as his cock sprung into view, and it only spurred you on to run your tongue up the side of his shaft quicker, drawing a delicious shiver out of him. Your eyes locked with his as you dragged the tip up the underside, but by the time you closed your lips fully around the tip, his had screwed shut, his hands forming balled fists at his sides. Experimentally, you allowed your tongue to drag along the tip, doing small circles around it and tasting the slightly salty precum gathered there.

The piercing didn't feel as sharp against your tongue as you'd imagined it would, though it was an intriguing feeling nonetheless.

But John had other plans, it seemed, pouncing on you when you were most distracted, yanking himself free from your bewitching oral grip and pinning you down on your back once again. His hands were much faster and less gentle than the day before, eager and greedy and excitable as they groped at your breasts and tummy, slid wetly through your soaked folds. You tensed as he toyed briefly with your peak, but tensed more when he slid one, then two fingers inside you suddenly.

"Tease." he growled as he stretched you, his thumb playing harshly with your nub until you were nearly bowled over with a sudden orgasm nearly out of left field. The feeling of you tightening and gripping around his fingers must've been too much for him, as he was filling you for real before you were completely aware.

He wasn't nearly as gentle as he had been the night before, and the thrill knocked the air right out of you. The tempo of his thrusts was increasing with each passing moment, the blunt head of him beating against your tender cervix rhythmically as your body clenched and trembled around him, dancing on the edge of coming undone yet again. There was no hesitation from John as you let out a gasping shriek in response, your breathing uneven and shaky as your eyes struggled to focus. His hands gripped wherever he could reach with bruising intensity, the sharp, pinching pain of his fingertips digging into your thighs as he forced them open for him only adding to the pleasure you was feeling.

You felt his teeth ghost over your shoulder, replaced by his tongue as he seemed to grumble at himself chidingly. You let out a little whimper as you felt the sharp edge of his jaw disappear, your overstimulated brain fixating on the feeling of his teeth on your neck when he kissed you there. For a long time, you’d wondered what it would be like for him to bite you with real force. However, you couldn't ponder on the idea too long, interrupted by John's primal, almost absentminded growling.

“You know, if I were still human, I’d knock you up.” he said.

His words were low and hot in your ear as he drove himself in hard and deep once more, punctuating his statement with a growl. The words themselves frightened you, a threat to strip you of your autonomy in the name of staking a claim, the very thing that you'd given up everything to avoid. However, the fear, as well as the possessive connotation of the words, also brought forth another wave of arousal so intense that you tightened painfully around him, whimpering as he ripped you right to the edge of yet another orgasm.

He smirked at you, free hand moving to cup your sweaty cheek as he teased you with a series of half-strokes, body pushing insistently against your own; your face pressed back against him, leaning into his touch to ground you as you fluttered around him. However, that grounding touch was quickly ripped away as his grip moved to your waist, flipping you off him and onto your stomach so quickly it disoriented you, your grunts muffled into the grimy mattress.

There was a slick sound as he guided his leaking cock back to your entrance, your body tense as the head played across your slit. He bucked towards you wildly, and when he failed to properly catch, the little metal bar along the underside just barely caught against your bud in an unexpectedly delicious manner, once, twice, a sloppy third time. The sensation made you coo enthusiastically, tossing your sweaty hair and arching your back towards him like a cat at the peak of heat.

"Beg me, baby." he said, teasing across your entrance.

You felt an instant wash of heat up your spine and into your face, equal parts pure arousal and the most genuine sort of embarrassment, and the sadistic look in his own eyes didn't help. Though your brain was running on reserve power, distracted by all the amazing sensations and pulled in a hundred different directions by desire, you knew what he wanted from you, and you were just cognizant enough to squirm over it.

"Go on. Tell me what you want."

Another half-thrust, another teasing bump against your clit. You forced your ass as high in the air as it would go, your voice embarrassingly whiny and nasal when it finally broke free.

"Please, John."

He chuckled darkly at that.

"As much as I enjoy your manners, kid, I'm sorta looking for the opposite." he chuckled, letting the hand that wasn't gripping his erection play along your slit again. "Tell me."

He was teasing you as cruelly as he knew how, forcing you to feel the pressure of the leaking head just about to breech you without the satisfaction of actually following through, and that would have been enough to frustrate you into begging. However, his teasing around your clit had also grown in ferociousness, sending your hips desperately searching out his fingers, and it was more than enough to break you down.

"Please fuck me, John." you whispered.

"Sorry? Couldn't quite hear you." he smirked, and it pissed you off more than anything.

"Fuck me, John! Fuck me!" you demanded, voice slowly growing louder out of pure sexual frustration. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!"

The last word didn't properly land, stuttered by the way he suddenly slammed himself home again and nearly collapsed you completely, but you managed to brace yourself against the bed just as he began to rut into you with wild abandon. His heavy, warm balls slapped against your clit harshly, making you whine even sharper than before. Your own fingers fought their way between your thighs, rubbing tight and fast circles around your abused clit, and it made you quiver around him. The feeling made him growl harshly, and he actually nipped at the back of your shoulder.

"Where do you want it?" he asked.

Confused and partially distracted by your approaching orgasm, you didn't say anything at first, unsure of his meaning until he clarified a stroke or two later.

"Where do you want me to cum, baby?"

You didn't have the brain power to truly string together a sentence, but you did, shockingly, have just enough control to say exactly what he needed to hear to lose himself in you completely:

"Do it inside." you sighed, and it's all he'd needed to hear before absolutely exploding, gripping at you with bruising force and jamming his cock as deep as physically possible inside you. Like the night before, you could taste him filling you up, an electric, almost acidic tang lining the back of your throat as you felt your warm cunt overflow down your thigh.

Again, the two of you clung tightly to one another in the aftershocks, but this time felt different; there were no rivals, no threats to what you had here, only the presence of love and admiration and the pure, unadulterated desire to express those emotions physically. John pretty much immediately collapsed down beside you, his throbbing, softening cock still buried inside you as he held you flush against him, running his tongue along your sweaty, bruised throat and humming.

"Man, you smell sexy like this, all full of me." he murmured, teeth playing along your earlobe. "Y'know, Garvey's lucky his nose isn't as sensitive as mine. I'd take you out there and walk you by him a dozen times just to make a point."

"Oh, John. Don't mention it. It was so embarrassing for everybody involved. He really thought that little chin lift was going to seal the deal and I have to live with the knowledge of that for the rest of my life!" you replied, playfully clamping your thighs on his hand as your cheeks heated.

The smile he flashed you was a warm one, content and confident in a way you didn't often see from the older man. You weren't sure you'd ever known him to be this...gratified.

"I love you, sunshine."

"I love you, too, John." you smiled, settling back against his chest to resume the lazy morning you'd been sharing together before the distraction. Things were quiet again, the only real sound the breeze in the trees, shaking and dancing together joyously as they shaded your perfect hideaway.

#holy christ how did this get so long #john hancock #john hancock fo4 #hancock fo4 #john hancock smut #hancock x reader #john mcdonough #submission

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