#i really hope i get anon hate for this ❤️

[shuploc]

Oh! I've seen a lot of female Miguel O'hara ideas floating around? Do you think the features would translate well on a more feminine headshot? Or not really?

Uhh, well. Maybe this is a weird, and perhaps kinda hot take. But I'm just not really a fan of genderbending characters. I just… don't really get the point. It's obviously totally fine to fiddle around with the concept, I'm not a complete hater! But it's just so often I see people turn the scruffy, burly, "imperfect" character into a sexy, hot, big titty, big ass, air-brushed babe and slap the genderbend label on it. It gives off this weird vibe that the character is only worthy of love if they have sex appeal...

Maybe I'm super weird about it, idk, but I would love to hear a different opinion. And obviously, if you don't agree, it's all good! It just leaves such an odd taste in my mouth.

To actually answer your question though lmao, I don't really think you can completely translate his features, but you can get pretty close, and I've seen it too! But yeah, I'm sorry, I'm probably not gonna be drawing my own version 😅

[ladcedes]

lowkey - ln4

lando norris x reader

request Hi could you write a lando Norris x younger mexican/irish gf reader (21) fc (rae cambra )where they keep things private because she doesnt want hate and her instagram is private too and shes always seen with lando and they went on holiday together smau pls.

note first request ever omg... thank you so much for this anon! pretty sure whoever requested actually forgot abt it atp... im sooo sorry this took me like half a year to get to I actually never check my inbox 😭😭😭

set in the summer bcs why tf not!

paddockwags 14hrs ago | 4hrs ago

paddockwags 3hrs ago | 3hrs ago

paddockwags

liked by dhsj.77 and 32.887 others

paddockwags lando norris and his girlfriend, yn ln, seen in monaco 📸

view all comments

starlandos how did they even meet bruh 😭

⤷ bownorris exactly she has like zero social media presence how are they even together

⤷ paddockwags @.bownorris lots of athletes meet their wags through mutual friends so it’s likely that

amourln4 i give them another week 🥱

f1.wagspot

liked by 41.826 others

f1.wagspot lando norris’ girlfriend, yn ln’s, instagram account revealed!

view all comments

favspiastri hold up does anyone think they meet through alex?? since they follow each other…

lncult WAITTT if u look back at some of alex’s posts u can find a glimpse of her

⤷ fourclaren so what she used her friend to get herself a famous bf? social climber 😒😐

f1.wagspot

liked by f1wagsfashion and others

f1.wagspot lando norris spotted enjoying the sun with his girlfriend in mallorca ahead of the azerbaijan gp!

view all comments

4norrism are him and charles in the same place??

⤷ princeleclerc omg lando and charles vacation meetup?!?

silverstonel4n icb he’s stayed this long with a girl who’s so hidden from the spotlight

⤷ mcl4ren she’s so different from his past gfs it’s crazy

yourusername

tagged: alexandrasaintmleux, landonorris, charles_leclerc, and 5 others

liked by riabish and 216 others

yourusername when your schedules all line up >>>>

view all comments

alexandrasaintmleux bestie holidays ❤️

liked by creator

⤷ yourusername cheers to more! 🥂

landonorris hope you liked your graduation gift ml ❤️

⤷ yourusername calling it a graduation gift really isn’t helping the allegations yk…

⤷ landonorris @.yourusername well in your defense i only paid for the plane and the guys split yacht costs so i think we’re good 🤓 you deserve it anyway 🤷‍♂️

landonorris trip finally made it out of the gc!

⤷ alex_albon stop trying to be relatable your trips always make it out of the gc. you're rich.

⤷ landonorris @.alex_albon then how come our golfing trips rarely happen :(

⤷ georgerussell63 @.landonorris have you thought about not planning them spontaneously, during race weeks, in a range halfway across the world?

⤷ yourusername @.georgerussell @.landonorris were you silent, or were you SILENCED

landonorris

liked by georgerussell63 and others

landonorris sun’s out… summer break!

view all comments

ln4tion don’t be shy lando… finish the phrase 😁

⤷ formulamclaren fr when did this guy get pr training 😂😂

fourrari is this finally the official hard launch

⤷ gr63atest does it count as a hard launch if her face still isnt visible 😭😭

⤷ fourrari @.gr63atest 😭 at least we got confirmation tho

ladcedes keeping up with the 'comments as an author's note' tradition: I really hope this one meets expectations! I think it's a bit short but I didn't rly know what to do...

slightly suggestive bonus :]

[maxlarens]

Hi ! As a pescatarian girly and as someone who has recently started to like Lando, I kept thinking about him with pescatarian!reader, because you know opposites attracts and also it made me think of the olive theory from 'How I met your mother', can be fic or smau

(also I'm the anon who requested the Charles fic and I was wondering if you gave names or emojis to your anons 🤔)

ahhh hi😇😇 thank u sm for sending another ask in. verrryy into this! ive never watched himym but i HAVE heard of the olive theory and genuinely think it can be so true. i also think like sharing food/giving certain parts of ur meal to ur partner is so sweet so i loved this a lot🥺🥺

also, tbh i have never had a consistent enough anon to name them/give them an emoji so i would loveee LOVE to do that🙏🏻 pls let me know what i should call u❤️ (and if anyone wants to be a regular/semi-regular anon and give themselves an emoji/name pls do!!!) ANYWAY alright i hope u enjoy— it’s a just a short ficlet 😌💖

LN: quid pro quo

pairing(s): lando norris x reader [read on ao3]

word count: 1.2k

“Eugh,” Lando says, feigning a gag as he looks at the plate of food set in front of you, “That’s disgusting. I don’t understand how you can put that in your mouth.”

Slowly, you raise an eyebrow at him, looking between your plate and Lando’s screwed-up expression; you point at your food, “Salmon? You think salmon is disgusting? Are you joking right now?”

He shakes his head fervently, a grimace still stuck on his face, “It’s gross.”

A laugh, loud and guffawing erupts from your mouth as you realise he’s being entirely serious. He’s fixated on your meal, frowning as if the fish has severely insulted him in some way. Quickly, you clap your hand over your mouth, concerned you’ll offend him if you keep laughing like that. This is one of a handful of dates you’ve been on together— clearly the first you’ve ordered seafood on— and you’re still trying to make a good impression on Lando.

“Wait,” you collect yourself, breathing deeply so you don’t fall into a fit of giggles again, “You’re not allergic are you?”

“No,” he shrugs, “I just hate fish. You’ve never heard that?”

You snort a little indelicately, already going back to eating your salmon, “‘You’ve never heard that?’,” you tease, “Do you think I stalk you on the internet, Norris?”

He grins that small sheepish grin you like so much as a light blush blooms on his cheeks. You’re very fond of him really. He’s cute in a scrappy kind of way; he’s funny and charming, a little bit dumb sometimes; and he’s into you, which is always a bonus. You’re not together— not quite— just seeing each other when you both have time, but it’s been going very nicely if you do say so yourself.

You like him.

He likes you.

Lando rolls his eyes, and purses his lips in an attempt not to let you see the smile that he’s trying to hide, “Don’t you? Stalk me on the internet?”

“Never,” you answer resolutely, thinking blatantly of that night after you’d first met him when you fell down a rabbit hole, spending a good hour watching thirst traps of him on Instagram before coming to your senses, “Not once.”

He hums, unconvinced, “Alright.”

Alright. You make a face, almost stick your tongue out at him but think better of it at the last second. He laughs— giggles— at you. You look away from him, down at your plate, trying to hide the smile that spreads and spreads behind your hair. God, you like him. You’re trying not to let it get away from you. You get the impression that he’s not huge on relationships, and you’re trying hard to be casual about him. It’s difficult— mostly because everything feels so easy when you’re together.

“So,” you start as you push a forkful of salmon and leafy greens around your plate, “Hate to break it to you, but I’m a pescetarian.”

“Um,” Lando asks around a mouthful of half-chewed food, “What’s that mean?”

You stifle a laugh, “Like a vegetarian, but I eat seafood.”

He swallows and makes another face, similar to the earlier one. You can see this is hard for him to process, he clearly dislikes seafood to a degree that you hadn’t quite understood until now. It’s funny. It’s another thing to add to the growing list of reasons you fancy Lando Norris. Though you would think that as a pescetarian you’d want him to like fish, but you suppose by not eating them he’s just saving all the sea animals that you’re not— quid pro quo.

“What about, like,” he waves his fork around, evidently still wondering why you’d eat seafood voluntarily, “just being a vegetarian?”

You shrug, “Vegetables are boring.”

“Right. Better than eating fish though.”

“I like fish.”

He shakes his head, “I don’t get it… It’s— they’re slimy and they smell and they’ve got fucking beady little eyes. It’s not natural.”

“Okay,” you laugh brightly at his despondent expression, “I do need to eat them, unfortunately. Otherwise, I’d probably die of malnutrition, or I dunno, scurvy.”

He groans, hanging his head so that all you can see of his face is that mop of brown curls. You think of your second date when you’d kissed him for the first time in your stairwell and how you’d threaded a hand into it— and they were soft and not heavy with product the way that you hate. The way he’d smelt like expensive cologne and tasted both smokey and sugary at the same time, just like the whiskey and cokes he’d been having at the bar. There’s a soft smile playing at your lips when he finally looks up.

“Does it bother you?” you ask, “That I eat fish.”

He shrugs, shakes his head in a non-committal way that could be either answer and does that little grin again. The one that means he’s going to say something that you’ll find either unbearably cute or embarrassingly funny.

“Yes,” he says, grin not subsiding, “How am I supposed to kiss you when you’ve got fish breath.”

Your eyebrows shoot up and a shocked laugh bubbles from your mouth, you try to ignore the stirring feeling in your gut at the words how am I supposed to kiss you in favour of responding to his lack of tact Try, being the keyword there. It somersaults in your head, how am I supposed to kiss you he said, like he was thinking of doing it again. Which, okay, of course, he’s thinking of doing it again. You understand what this is— but there was an unmistakable fondness there that you just can't shake.

Anyway, you push thoughts of kissing him aside, he’d still accused you of having fish breath, “Wow,” you say dryly, with no malice at all as much as you try to feign it, “You say that to all the girls?”

He blushes, his tan cheeks turning a very pleasant red as he properly realises what he’d said, “Shit. No— oh my god— I’m sorry. I just meant—”

You wave him off, laughing, “I know what you meant. You’re good, Lando.”

“Phew,” he lets out a breath of relief, his nervous laughter punctuating the air between you, without meaning to he says, “God, I thought I’d just fucked it.”

You furrow your brows and frown, confused, “No. You couldn’t.”

You watch him scrub a hand over his face, embarrassed, before it falls away and he gives you a sheepish little grin that says he’s happy to hear that. Toothy, eyes squinted and carving dimples into his cheeks. Your face feels warm and you smile back, biting your bottom lip on the smile so it doesn’t grow and grow to cover your whole face.

Later, after you’ve finished lunch and spent too much time talking over a too-sticky table in your favourite pub, Lando kisses you up against a tree in the park by your apartment. You put your hand in his soft curls and you smell cologne and taste what he’s been drinking as he presses his tongue into yours. The coarse hair of his moustache brushes against your lips and you kiss back with equal gusto. You pull away when it feels like you two are veering into too inappropriate territory for this public park. He chases you, but you laugh softly, pressing a perfunctory closed-mouth kiss to the corner of his mouth. He groans, laughs, and puts his forehead against yours.

You hum, “I guess my fish breath doesn’t bother you so much, huh.”

“Fuck,” he breathes, “You’re never going to let that go are you.”

You shake your head ever so slightly, “Not as long as I live, Norris.”

[kurokawaia]

THERE GOES MY BABY~ 彡 Feitan Portor

WC; 500+ | !MDNI! | TW/CW : x fem!reader

REQUEST :: HIIIII! I was wondering if you could write a Feitan x reader where every time he leaves for to long to do a mission or something she becomes that usher meme where he’s sliding in the floor with the song there goes my baby it doesn’t have to be long or anything I just want something funny I really like your work I hope you have a good day (btw idk if a specified it a lot but if you could can you make the reader fem) ❤️- ANON

m.list | hxh m.list

Every time Feitan leaves on a mission, you tell yourself, "This time, I am going to be normal." And every time, without failure, you manage to prove yourself completely wrong. You have always greeted him with the same gesture ever since you saw that one Usher clip. You have decided to do this for a while now; this is your first shot.

Feitan has been gone for a couple of days and he should be back soon, today hopefully. YOu'll be able to detect his presence before he enters your shared apartment. One of your favourite things about you and Feitan's relationship is that you're the sunshine and he's the big grump, and he also doesn't know what you're going to do next.

You go crazy when Fei isn't home for too long, you need him in more ways than one, in bed and just for the daily comforts, and you love snuggling up to him (he says he hates it but he's effectively lying). 

There goes my baby You don't know how, good, it Feels to call you my girl

You're on the verge of slamming your head onto the coffee table, you so desperately wanted the song out of your head but you only. And you wouldn't, not until you get to slide on the floor to your man. 

Go ahead and play the tune in your head; it's always that song. "There goes my baby… Oooooh, girl, look at you…" You sing out as you fall to your knees, sliding on the waxed floor like some movie star in a music video, arms outstretched as you could feel seitan playing and unlocking the lock at the door.  And then on cue, the door opens. Feitan stands there, wrapped in his dark cloak, one eyebrow arched higher than it has ever been. For a moment, he's silent, his brain processing the utter sight of it all, his hard assassin's mind almost short-circuiting at the absurdity. "You.... are... so... strange," he finally mutters, his lips twitching as if in a fight against a smirk. You freeze, looking up from his torso, your eyes meeting with his own, your chin placed up against his cloak, a smile wide on your lips. Your cheeks are flushed pink. God, you missed him so much. 

"Took you long enough to realise, Fei," you tease while hugging him tighter.

He shakes his head, "I always known," he scoffs, "You make it obvious now."

Your jaw drops agasint him as you loosen your hold around his torso. "You love me!" you pout.\

"That I do," he says quietly with a sigh because he knows that no matter how odd you are he won't ever leave you because he does love you 🥺

Do not copy, steal, modify, etc. Relogs and like are appreciated.

m.list | hxh m.list

[pressureplus]

Hihii! Hope your all doing well

Could you please do human Sebastian Headcannons where it’s his or our birthday and writhed we get him something or we get him something?? My birthday was yesterday n I think this’ll be cute <3

Remember to take breaks <3

-💫

Hi! We're doing good, thank you for asking ❤️ (We get our breaks by taking turns making stuff, so don't worry too much about that)

It's a day late, but happy birthday, Anon! I hope it was a good one!

Birthday Wishes

Pairings: Sebastian Solace x GN!Reader

Au: Classic

Warnings: N/A

◞꒷◟ ͜ ͜ ◞ྀི◟୨୧◞ྀི◟ ͜ ͜ ◞꒷◟◞꒷◟ ͜ ͜ ◞ྀི◟୨୧◞ྀི◟ ͜ ͜ ◞꒷◟

Everything has to be perfect. As perfect as it can possibly be from a place like this.

He's made sure to send Y/N out on a supply run he's hoping is going to take quite a while, needing some extra time to prepare for something he's making out to be a big event.

As much as he hates sending his dumb little diver anywhere without either going with them or watching them, he's taken a great deal of caution in getting them supplied and assuring the halls were not active today... Sebastian has well enough ferryman tokens in stock to bribe and barter with should anything happen, worse case scenario.

Shaking his head, he attempts to get rid of those paranoid tendencies so he can finish hanging up the streamers. The bastard fish had been awfully mean to Y/N this morning trying to throw them off so they wouldn't catch any hints for the surprises he's planned. The experiment still is not the best with putting that guard down that's been built up so he can live down here, but he's been trying. Y/N has made him really want to try.

Part of him is still nervous about this, scared that once they get this gift and use it that they'll figure out that they don't want him. He's scared that they'll settle on the thought that they only wanted his company out of desperation, lingering on the idea a bit too long and decide to go find someone else. The anxiety has left his hands shaking a good portion of the morning.

But he has to trust them. They've earned that a few hundred times over for being patient with him for so long.

Sebastian has been preparing for this day for years, and in truth this was for himself at first. This was supposed to be for him. He worked for it, scavenged for it, fought, killed, and lived for it. He's been running this shop for so long it's all he knows anymore and it was always for this.

It wasn't until Y/N came along it stopped being for him and started being for the both of them.

There's even a cake, and though he's still a bit concerned they're not going to like his less than stellar icing designs, he knows it's your favorite flavor so he's sure you won't hate it.

When he decides he's made it up nice enough and that he's brave enough to greet you, he makes his way back to his shop and sits waiting, trying not to mull over his choices, hoping that it will go well.

It doesn't take long, maybe another half hour at most, for his favorite person to stroll back in.

"Sebby! I'm home!" Y/N greets him first, going to set the small crate of goods down near the doorway.

"Took you long enough. Hard run?" He teases, reaching one of those big clawed hands down to ruffle their hair. Smile a little wider and eyes a little brighter, he can't deny he's excited.

"No! It was actually super easy! I didn't find even an ounce of data, though..." Seeming disappointed, they almost go to sulk before he catches them.

"No, no, I have made well enough for the week." He reaches under the desk and pulls out a messily wrapped box.

"Plus, it's your birthday, isn't it?" Sebastian grins.

It takes Y/N a long beat of silence to perk up, eyes sparkling under the outdated LEDs.

"It is! You remembered my birthday?" They snatch the present up and instinctually shake it.

"Ah, don't get too happy about it, I saw it on the calendar." The fishy man tries to play it off for longer, really dragging it out.

"I'd say happy birthday, but could it really be happy in the Blacksite?" He pokes, the snide jab not seeming to bring Y/N down at all.

"It is with you!" They give him a beaming grin and start to open their box.

Nearly choking, Sebastian feels his face heat up a bit and his heart stops in his chest. How is he not supposed to treasure his Y/N? How could anyone think they were anything less than amazing?

"Well, it is a special day nonetheless. You only get this old once." He adjusts his comment to match their mood, still reminding himself to soften up for them.

He's decorated it in their favorite colors, colorful streamers matching all the little things that's going to make it feel like a home.

"You got me a plushy?! Where'd you find one!?" Y/N tugs the stuffed toy out of the box and squeezes it, very clearly resembling their favorite mythical creature.

"Would you believe it was luck?" He chuckles, lying to them point blank. He'd made it by hand, but doesn't want the tears or teasing from you that would come with admitting that.

"Thank you so much, Sebastian! You're the best!" Y/N only continues to shine in the dimly lit shop.

"I've got something else for you. It's in the back." He places a hand on their waist to usher the former prisoner along towards the grand finale.

"Is it really gonna beat the plushie?" They joke and he snickers.

"I'd certainly hope so, it's your party." He uses another of his massive hands to cover your eyes and lead you out past the room, guiding your step up on a completely unfamiliar stair.

"Woah, is this a new room?" Y/N looks confused.

"Yep. It's your room now. We're still going to be sharing, but it's brand new." He hesitates for another few seconds.

Closing his own eyes, he tries to stay calm. Ripping that metaphorical bandaid off, his hands come away from them to let Y/N look around.

And Y/N finds themself in a submarine.

"You... Your deal went through. . ." They look around at the painstaking way he's furnished and decorated it.

"Yep. I got us a way out." He closes the door behind him and Y/N whips around to look at him.

"We're leaving!? WE'RE LEAVING TODAY?!" They look shaken, but more excited than he thinks he's ever seen before in his life.

The fear melts away watching the way they go and cheer, tossing their new plush onto the bed at the back of the vessel and laughing, already chattering about showing him the places they wanna go. If nothing he does ever goes right again his whole life, he's done good doing this.

Sebastian pulls another mischievous look and holds out the keys, barely catching their severely divided attention with the shiny new keyring.

"Happy Birthday, Y/N."

[lundenloves]

OMG OMG OMG HEAR ME OUT PLEASE! What if Simon/Ghost comes back home from deployment and is really stressed, annoyed and angry from a mission. He’s left alone with his oldest daughter in the house and has this horrible fight with his oldest daughter and I mean like screaming because the oldest daughter can’t find her shirt and he refuses to help until finally she blurts “I hate you” to him out of the heat of the fight…CAN THIS SOMEHOW END WITH MAJOR FLUFF BETWEEN THE TWO?! If it’s too much just ignore me❤️❤️ Thank you, I love your work🤭🤭

{✧} hello beautiful anon, you have seemingly given me life? banged this out in around an hour. if it seems like it only took an hour, please ignore that or i’ll drown myself in a loch. hope i’ve done your ask justice? thank you for asking for angst, that’s probably why it got done so fast 💀

taglist | masterlist | dad!simon masterlist | request info

↳ no warnings | 1.2k | dad!simon

It was quiet in the house. Just quiet enough for Simon to process what had just happened in the last 48 hours — yet not quiet enough for his ears to ring from constant gunfire. It was a happy medium, alone bar his oldest who jogged up and downstairs at record paces. Flipping the living room upside down, and the pile of clean washing on the bottom stair was tossed to the floor in a desperate attempt to find her shirt. 

He was sitting on the sofa, head leant back, eyes shut only to hear her scuffling around. “Where’s my shirt?” She penetrated his happy silence, stood in front of him with arms dropped to her sides in a teenage palava. “Where did you put it?” 

Simon gave her a noise between a sigh and a hum, craning his neck to look up at her. “What?” He unintentionally spat, his normal tone of voice as sharp as ever. “I ‘aven’t touched your shirt.” Eyes locked to the pile of recently ironed clothes tossed to the floor by the stairs. “They’ll be in that fucking pile you’ve chucked around and walked past ten times.” 

“Well, they’re obviously not.” She groaned. 

Simon shrugged, standing up to stack this morning’s breakfast dishes. “What do you want me to do?” He shook his head at her, taking the plates to the kitchen with her trailing behind him. “I can’t magic it, can I? It’ll be wherever you’ve left it.” 

“It’s not. That’s the point. You’ve moved it.” She had genetically taken his frown, sporting it straight back to him when he had turned around to take something from the table. 

“Oh, have I?” He mumbled nonchalantly, loading the dishes into the sink with loud clatters. “Get those mugs from your room.” 

“No, I'm looking for the shirt.” Her tone matched his, stubbornly kicking her foot against the chair leg to get his attention. “Can you check mum's stuff?” 

“You can.” He turned around, a dish towel balled between his hands with a nod toward the stairs. 

Simon's moods were hard to distinguish. The primary reason being: he always seemed to be in some sort of disparity. So even when he’d come back from a particularly challenging mission, one that had asked too much from him or went horrifically wrong, he would almost always be the same as he usually was. Blunt, sarcastic and seemingly uncaring. 

You had learned to tell the difference but your daughters knew none the wiser. Leading to unknowingly provoking yet valid questions like, “What is wrong with you.” 

“Nothing. Get the mugs.” 

“You never help with shit.” She scoffed, turning on her heel to stomp upstairs and Simon’s jaw ticked. Head tilted to the side, palms leaning either side of the sink with a step back to hang his head between his shoulders. 

Having a teenage girl was the route of many headaches for Simon. Not particularly because of her, but for the natural way where everything revolves around them for an extended amount of years. Everything is embarrassing, if not first regarded as useless. And as far as Simon was concerned he fell somewhere between the two in her radar. 

“Don’t start with that.” He’d said once she had slammed the mugs down on the table behind him, his back was still toward her. 

“Well it’s fucking—“

“I mean it.” 

“It’s true you’re never here!” She shrilled. “You never do anything, you’re always angry and never help.” A beat. “You don’t even talk to us, dad.” She paused, undoubtedly eyeing him for any sort of reaction. “It’s fucked, you’re fucked.”

He turned to take the mugs, eyes avoiding hers although his jaw was tense. “And you can’t even have a conversation.” She laughed though it held no comedy. “You’ll just snap like you always do.” 

“I snap because it’s hard to switch between work and home— here.” He turned around, his daughter shying from his broad frame and low voice. Refraining from asking about Simon’s work was the one thing you had instructed all three of your kids not to do. Although, naturally it became a target point for arguments with him. A real low blow, the best and most critical hit you could land on him was his absence from home due to work. 

Bonus points if you added all he had missed, the first steps, the first words. It was a lot. But it was not there to be thrown back in his face, not as often as it was anyway. “You don’t even want to be here.” 

He shifted in his position, placing hands behind his head at her confrontation. “All of this because of that shirt.” His words directly combated hers, hitting them backward and stopping them from landing anywhere near him. Effectively avoiding her statement. 

“When’s the last time you hugged me, dad?” She said calmly yet loudly, metaphorically shattering glass over his head. 

It had been weeks, months at worst. 

His silence was telling, hands dropped down to his sides in defeat. As usual, he couldn’t find the words so she had jumped for her turn and jab one more time.

“I hate you. I hate you for that, so bad.” It came as a whisper and by that point, the kitchen had fallen quiet too. Occasional sniffs and the rubbing of the odd tear turned her face red, Simon cleared his throat. 

It only highlighted her point in that he stood still. Though, it wasn’t fair to point a finger and say it was his own fault he was that way, emotional warmth and touch just weren’t in his niche range of abilities. His thumb drew imperfect circles on the kitchen counter, staring at her with any and all outward apology he could muster. 

“I didn’t mean that.” She mumbled first, embarrassingly shifting her weight to the other foot while looking up to the ceiling, eyes darting left to right as if to hold back any more upset. She was a lot like Simon that way, although not at all. 

“I know.” He replied softly, taking a closing step toward her and placing his hand on the back of her head to pull her to his chest. “I don’t mean to be like this, you know that.” The silence made him look down to gain a nod in response, her gaze zoning out to the kitchen window as he smoothed out her hair. 

Simon was never good with words, so he always took to actions that felt even more foreign but they at least allowed for the substitution of his appeasements. “Sorry for swearing at you.” She mumbled, melting into his broad chest. 

“Someone has to put me in my place.” The vibration of the words rippled in his chest and she pulled back only to look down at the floor. “You’re a lot like me, you know.” He poked at her ribs, provoking an unwilling laugh that then turned into a smile. “A lot.” 

She shrugged, pushing his hands away after they had wiped the tears from her cheeks. “Yeah, alright.” Her frown was feigned.

“I promise you.” He turned to continue the dishes, looking back to her over his shoulder. “And your shirt is on the line.” He nodded out the window, watching as she gasped and ran outside like he had found gold. 

simon ‘ghost’ riley taglist: @vamppxncess @crowbird @misshoneypaper @tallrock35 @fluffmonster @islanderr @blueoorchid @lea3773 @coldflapjack @rayhawk05 @han11dh @liishook @melovetitties @fallonx @rvjaa @fuckmelifesucks @bhayatsara @takeomisbitch @local-spidey @konigsblog @penutjuice @babychoi03 @sheluvzeren @sparklingtragedy @maviee @wiserebelpartypie @daddylorianisastateofmind @bhayatsara @mistydeyes @writingmysanity @johfaam0 @idkjoequinn @gressseyy @fwibblefwobble @shibble @maladaptivedaydreamingbum @airghostlyfox @hotgirlsshareaccounts @simpxinnie @dilfdotgov

as always comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated! i’ll sit in a hole if no one pays me on the head every now and then.

this is unedited.

[dean-winchester-is-a-warrior]

Sexy Baby?

(x)

Summary: Y/N is humiliated. Can meeting Jensen make things better? (P.S. Sometimes I hate writing summaries. 😩����)

Pairing: Jensen x Plus-sized!eader (Y/N)

Warnings: None really. Embarrassed reader. Hurt reader. Body shaming asshole. Kissing. Fluff. Jensen being the ultimate, incredible man. 😁❤️

Word Count: 4,168

A/N: This fic was a request by a lovely anon. It turned out fluffier and less smutty than I was originally thinking, Nonny, so I hope it still works for you. ❤️

This fic also incorporates this gif request sent in by @suckitands33 for my 2K followers celebration. Here is the gif I reference in this fic:

(x)

This was meant to be a drabble request, and looking at the word count you can see that this is most decidedly NOT a drabble. 😄 But I hope you like what I've come up with anyway. ❤️

If you enjoy the fic, please consider reblogging and/or leaving a comment. It means a lot. ❤️

A/N 2: As always this fic is about a different, multiverse version of Jensen, who is single. This is a complete and utter work of fiction.

It was one of Y/N’s most humiliating experiences during what should have been one of her most exciting moments.

She'd waited years and years to get to a Supernatural convention. She'd been a fan of the show for a very long time, and she simply adored the whole cast. The camaraderie of the boys and the kindness of the whole SPN Family had helped her through some very dark times. 

So to finally be at a con, and standing in line, waiting for a photo op with her absolute favorite actor of all time, Jensen Ackles? It felt like a dream. 

But she was so nervous. She'd never met anyone famous, let alone the guy she'd had a crush on for nearly half her life. Jensen was beautiful beyond words, sexy and charming, and everyone seemed to fall in love with him. So meeting him was daunting to say the least. 

As she approached the front of the line she finally got a look at him as he posed with other fans. He wore a slightly distressed, light beige sweater and tight fitting black jeans. He was so unbelievably tall in person, so solid, and if possible, even more gorgeous than he was on film. That magnetism he had, the kind that lit up the screen so easily and quickly drew everyone into the characters he played, was on full display and almost too brilliant in real life. She felt her lower belly tighten as butterflies erupted inside her. 

Finally, when Y/N was second in line, Jensen looked over and caught her eye, giving her a little smile and a wave. She blushed beet red and waved back, feeling like a complete idiot, but beaming nonetheless.

The woman in front of her walked up to Jensen and made a suggestion for a pose. One of the handlers seemed like they weren’t sure about allowing it, but Jensen waved away their worries, smiling at the fan and nodding, saying something that made her giggle. Then he wrapped his arm around her back and under her legs, picking her up from the ground. The woman squealed slightly, but then they did the pose. The woman had her arms flung wide in celebration, smile shining, and Jensen had his mouth open in a comically huge smile. It looked like they’d both won the lottery or something.

It was adorable.

Then it was finished and it was Y/N’s turn. She tried to take deep, steadying breaths as the previous fan said goodbye quickly. Before she walked up though, a staff member approached Jensen. He looked like he worked for the venue and not Creation, because he wore a uniform with the hotel’s name emblazoned on the back. Jensen’s smile shrank as he walked up; he didn’t look particularly happy to see him. 

The guy said something about switching rooms for autographs and Jensen just nodded. Then, as he was leaving, he looked over at Y/N waiting to be next, and turned to Jensen with a mocking smile.

“Wouldn’t try that last pose with this one.” He said with a nod towards Y/N at the front of the line.

Y/N felt like someone had kicked her in the stomach. All the air left her lungs and her eyes welled up instantly, her chest was immediately on fire from the shame she was swallowing down in big gulps.

She’d been chubby her whole life; she couldn’t remember a time when she wasn’t dieting and desperately trying to lose weight. It was her biggest insecurity that she couldn’t slip under 250 pounds no matter what she tried. She’d been that weight for a decade or more and no amount of dieting or exercising seemed to change that. 

She was also tall for a woman, and so she often felt like…how did Taylor put it?

Sometimes I feel like everybody is a sexy baby And I'm a monster on the hill

And now here she was in front of the man she’d dreamt about and fantasized about for so long, and this was how he was going to see her now - the way this jackass saw her.

She felt sick to her stomach.

She let her glance skitter to Jensen, but he wasn’t looking at her, he was glaring at the guy who was starting to walk away. He followed him and in two long strides caught him, grabbing his arm and spinning the guy around to face him.

They were close enough now that Y/N could hear what they were saying, even though Jensen was speaking in an angry, whiphard, whisper.

“What the fuck did you just say?”

The guy flung his arms out. “Come on, man. It was just a joke.”

Jensen shook his head and his face was like stone. “No, it wasn’t. And you know how I know it wasn’t a joke? Cause it wasn’t fucking funny. You’re an asshole, and if I catch you saying shit like that again about anybody here, I’ll be talking to your boss, and letting them know that we'll be looking for another venue next year.” He gave him a humorless smile. “And I’ll be sure to tell him just who he has to thank for that.”

The guy mumbled something that must have been an apology because Jensen let go of his arm and the guy beat a swift retreat. Y/N watched Jensen take a deep breath and then he approached her at the front of the line. 

She knew the people around her had heard what the guy said because they were calling the guy a prick too and telling her to ignore his bullshit. The woman behind her, who she’d never met, was rubbing circles on her back, trying to soothe the pain the jackass had caused.

That kind gesture along with the way Jensen held out his hand towards her and smiled so warmly, made tears start to fall silently. She couldn’t help it. She took Jensen’s warm hand and allowed him to pull her over to stand in front of the camera, quickly brushing her tears away with her free hand.

She’d never wanted to be in a picture less, and as they approached the spot, she shook her head and tried to pull her hand free.

She cleared her throat and stared at the floor. “Maybe, I’ll just…could I just get the picture with just you in it? Any pose you want to do will be fine.” She said, her slightly stuffy nose muffling her words.

Jensen turned back to her and tilted his head to catch her eye. “I can, if you want, but I’d sure love a picture with you. Whaddya say?” He asked with a bright smile.

Y/N realized it would be physically impossible to say no to this man, so she shrugged and walked into position in front of the camera.

“What pose do you want, sweetheart?” 

Y/N swallowed hard and forced herself not to cry. “Would you just…I’d just like a hug, if that’s okay.”

Jensen nodded. “Absolutely.”

So he opened his arms and Y/N stepped into them. She wrapped her hands under his arms and around his ribcage. His left arm was closest to the camera and he wrapped that one around her shoulders. His right arm came up over her shoulders too, but he used that hand to press her cheek to his chest, and he rested his chin on the top of her head. She closed her eyes and sighed deeply.

She’d never felt so cocooned in safety in her whole life. His arms were strong around her, applying just the right pressure to make her feel completely protected. After the way her heart had just been pulverized, it felt healing. She wanted to stay right there forever.

She heard the click of the camera, though, and opened her eyes. Jensen kept her wrapped in his arms for a little longer, before giving her an extra squeeze and stepping back.

“Thank you.” Y/N said shyly.

“Thank you.” Jensen responded, cupping her shoulder briefly. “Take care. Hope to see you again this weekend.”

Y/N nodded, grateful for his kindness, but recognizing that he felt bad for her too which brought on more embarrassment. So she just nodded at Chris who was snapping the pictures, and took off out of the photo op area. 

She went to the bathroom immediately and locked herself in the stall, allowing herself to cry quietly at length. For more than half an hour she sat in the stall, covering her mouth to keep from making too much noise. But finally her tears slowed and then dried up, the crack in her heart receding into just another scar there. She stayed in the bathroom another twenty minutes, dabbing at her puffy eyes with cool paper towels.

When she felt she was presentable enough, she finally left the restroom and headed over to pick up her photo op package. As she stood by the table, waiting for hers to show up, one of the women she recognized as a handler approached her. 

She smiled kindly, though she seemed a little frazzled which Y/N could definitely understand. “Hi! We actually picked up your photo op. If you follow me, we can get it for you.”

Y/N thought that was a little odd. Was there something wrong with the picture? But she nodded and followed along quickly as the handler practically sprinted away.

They walked down a hallway in the hotel and then through a couple of doors until they emerged in a mostly empty hallway, just a few employees scurrying around busily. Finally the woman she was following stopped and knocked lightly on a door, waiting a moment and then opening it and showing Y/N into a beautifully appointed suite. The furniture was subtly luxurious and elegant, the floors and fixtures were cool and understated while still being sleek and trendy.

But by far the most beautiful part of the room was the man sitting on the couch, one leg crossed over the other, with what looked like a script in his hand.

He looked up as they walked in and a smile broke out on his face as he dropped the script onto the table in front of him. “Hey! We found you! Thanks Amanda!”

Amanda nodded and shot him a smile. “No problem!” She said as she spun around and took off, closing the door behind her and suddenly leaving Y/N alone with Jensen.

As though he was reading her mind, Jensen pointed towards the door. “If you’d feel more comfortable, we can open it again.”

But Y/N couldn’t have felt less afraid or worried about her safety being alone with the man in front of her, so she just shook her head. She was bound to act like an idiot in front of him and the less prying eyes watching that the better. 

Jensen smiled. “Okay, well do you want a drink? Help yourself.” He said, pointing to a table with coffee, tea, and water bottles. “We could probably get you a coke or something, if you’d rather.”

She shook her head again, but forced herself to utter words this time. “No thank you, I’m fine.”

“Okay, well in that case you’re probably wondering what the hell I tracked you down for.” He said with a soft smile.

Y/N smiled back. “A little.”

Jensen waved at the spot beside him on the couch. “Wanna sit down?”

She took him up on that offer since her knees were a little wobbly and she didn’t really trust them. 

He reached over to the table beside the couch and pulled up a glossy 8x10 photo. “Well, to begin with, I do have your photo.”

He handed it over and Y/N felt herself blush. Despite the fact that she was in it, it was a beautiful picture. Her eyes were closed and so were Jensen’s as he held her protectively cuddled against him. The picture would always remind her of just how safe she’d felt in that moment, and she was grateful to take it home.

“Thank you.” She said quietly. “You were great.” 

“And you were beautiful.” He shook his head. “No, you ARE beautiful.”

Y/N felt her cheeks flush an even deeper red. “It’s really okay, I’m fine. I mean the guy was a jerk, but you don’t have to try and make me feel better. It’s hardly the first time.” She shrugged. “I can take it.”

Jensen shifted slightly closer to her, turning on the couch so he was facing her. “I’m not trying to make you feel better.”

She shot him a disbelieving look and he chuckled. “Well, I guess I am, but that’s just a bonus of telling you the truth. And the truth is, Y/N, you're beautiful.” 

Y/N shot him a slightly wide-eyed look. “How do you know my name?”

He pointed to her picture and smiled. “I got it from the photo op package. Promise I’m not psychic. Or a stalker”

Y/N giggled and covered her mouth at the sound, apologizing. “Sorry.”

Jensen reached up and pulled her hand away from her smile. “Don’t do that. Don’t cover up your laugh and certainly don’t apologize for it.”

Y/N shrugged again and looked down at her lap and the hand that Jensen still held. He came slightly closer and tipped up her chin.

“I wanted to see you because the last thing I wanted was for you to walk away from this weekend thinking less of yourself because of some asshole with a big mouth and a mean streak. It was…”He took a deep breath. “It was bothering me a lot.”

Y/N was frustrated with herself that she couldn’t stop the tears that formed again at Jensen’s kind words. She dashed them away quickly with her free hand. 

“Sorry.” She apologized again. “I know I don’t owe some rude jackass my tears and hurt, but sometimes it’s hard to just shove them down, you know.”

Jensen cupped her cheek warmly and brushed his thumb across her cheekbone. “Don’t shove them down, sweetheart, throw them away. His words are bullshit. They’re just wrong. Wanna know how I know?”

Y/N nodded, completely mesmerized by his mossy green gaze as he answered, his voice vehement. “I know he’s wrong, because it’s obvious for anyone to see that you’re utterly beautiful.”

Y/N started to scoff, but he cut her off. “I wanted to kiss you. Still do.”

Y/N choked heartily on the words that sputtered out of her, forgetting how to breathe normally. Jensen looked slightly abashed and it was his turn to stare at his lap. “God, I hope you don’t think I’m some creepy weirdo. I’m not…I don’t expect anything from you…this isn’t…” 

He sighed. “Shit, I didn’t mean to just blurt it out like that. I just wanted to try and make you understand that I’m not lying to make you feel better, I’m not just trying to make a sweet girl feel better about herself, though I want you to. But I wanted you to know that I was and am genuinely, undeniably attracted to you. From the moment I looked over and saw you standing in that line.”

He shrugged and shifted back slightly. “But I totally get if I’ve creeped you out and you wanna go. I’m sorry.”

But Y/N just stared at him bug eyed. She spoke softly and slowly, still stammering slightly. “You wa-wanna kiss m-me.”

He gave her a lopsided smile and a shrug. “It’s the truth.”

“Since you saw me in line?” She said by way of clarification.

He nodded. “Yep.”

She blinked rapidly and then bit her lip. She caught the way Jensen’s eyes flickered down to her mouth and the way his gaze heated, setting her body on fire. 

“Oh my god.” She whispered in disbelief. Then she shook her head and grinned at him. “Well, I’ve wanted to kiss you for about a decade…so…” She trailed off and Jensen gave a surprised laugh that turned into a warm and mischievous smile. 

“Well, in that case,” he said slowly, “I think you should go first.” He tapped lightly on his cupid’s bow mouth, indicating that she should kiss him there and Y/N thought she might actually pass out. 

She leaned forward tentatively, her head cloudy and the world around her surreal, and pressed her lips to his very briefly and gently before pulling back.

Jensen opened his eyes and a slow sexy smile spread across his face. “That was sweet, darlin’. But I gotta say, ten years of thinking and that’s all you got? I’ve been thinking about you for barely two hours, and I can promise you, I imagined way more than that sweet little angel kiss.”

Y/N felt her lower belly clench with want. “Okay, then show me.” She said, hardly able to believe her daring. 

But it felt like she was being presented with a buffet of her favorite foods when she’d been starving and there was no way she was going to pass up the opportunity in front of her.

Jensen leaned forward and slid his big hand into her hair, holding her head in place as he pressed his mouth to hers gently, taking teasing sips from her lips and making her whimper slightly. She was embarrassed by the sound, but it made Jensen tighten his grip in her hair and growl slightly into her open mouth, finally sweeping his tongue inside and completely devouring her. 

Y/N grabbed onto Jensen’s soft sweater and fisted it in her hands over and over, reveling in the feel of hard muscle beneath her palms. Jensen kissed her long and lustfully. His left hand stayed bunched in her hair, but he let his right hand slide up and down her arm before he slid it around to push against her back, just between her shoulder blades. 

He pressed her tightly to his chest as he continued to rob her of air. Finally, he broke off the kiss, leaving them both panting as he pressed his lips just beneath her jaw and down her neck. 

Her mind felt like it was on fire, everything was spinning and the world was just going too fast. As though he really was the psychic he denied being, Jensen seemed to know she needed to catch her breath, figuratively and literally, and he pulled back to press his forehead to hers.

“Sorry, got a little carried away.”

She shook her head vehemently. “No, no…that was…you’re perfect.”

Jensen chuckled. “You stole the words right out of my mouth, sweetheart.”

When they’d regained their breath, Jensen kissed her chastely and then tucked her hair behind her ear.

“So, you going to the panel tomorrow?”

Y/N nodded and gave a soft smile. “Of course.”

“Do you have plans tonight?”

Y/N felt like her heart might actually burst. She shook her head. “None that aren’t breakable.”

The next day at the panel, Y/N sat in the third row, feeling as though the whole world was brand new.

She could still hardly believe it, but the night before she and Jensen had gone out to dinner at a very nice restaurant, and the conversation between them had been remarkably easy and laced with laughter and fun. 

After dinner they’d gone for a long walk and talked some more before finding a quiet park bench and making out like teenagers. Jensen’s mouth had branded her skin as his alone, and she knew he owned her now, body and soul. She was pretty sure he felt the same way, or at least something like it. He’d been very open about how much he wanted her, vocal in his desire and need for her. 

It was the first time in her life that she’d felt truly, unequivocally beautiful and it opened up the world around her; colors seemed brighter and she knew that she was glowing.

Barely twenty-four hours after standing heartbroken and humiliated in Jensen’s arms, she sat in the audience, watching him on stage, feeling alive and truly happy in a way that was a little scary, but wholly exhilarating too.

The panel was wonderful; the boys were hilarious and warm as always. As the music started for the last question, Y/N expected Jensen to go off and sing with Rob as he usually did. But instead he looked right at her in the audience, standing up quickly and crooking his finger at her, beckoning her forward. 

Amanda, the woman who’d brought her to the hotel suite yesterday, was standing at the end of the row, and gestured for her to leave her seat and follow her to the stage. Y/N was shaking from head to toe as she followed her up the stairs to where Jared was waiting for her, escorting her over to Jensen who took her hand and led her back to the chair sitting in the middle of the stage, helping her hop up onto it. 

She looked out across the huge audience and panicked a little at the size of the crowd, until she made herself actually look at everyone’s faces. They were all smiling and beaming at her, and she thought of the boys’ oft repeated phrase: “You’re surrounded by family.” She suddenly felt a sense of belonging that was almost unprecedented in her life.

The music ended and the audience’s cheering fell away as Jared looked out at the crowd. “Everyone, say hello to Y/N! Y/N say hello to your SPN family!” There was more clapping and cheering as Y/N waved shyly. It occurred to her then, that she hadn’t told Jared her name, which meant Jensen must have told him about her. At least, enough that Jared agreed to break the usual routine of the last question going to one of the people standing in line. 

Y/N felt a little guilty that she was taking their place, but when she looked at the women standing at the microphones she could see them smiling and clapping along.

Jensen put his arm around her shoulders and she shivered. Raising the microphone, he shot her a mischievous smile before speaking.

“So, Y/N, how was your evening last night? You enjoying yourself?”

Y/N blushed beet red, and just nodded. Jared punched Jensen lightly and took pity on her. “Do you have a question for us?”

She wasn’t prepared at all, having never expected to be in this position, but she gave it a go as both boys lowered their microphone so she could speak into it.

She took a deep breath. “I wasn’t expecting to be up here, so I don’t…I don’t have a question ready, but I’d like to take a moment to say thank you.”

She looked out at the audience. “Some of you were in the photo op line with me when I experienced something really embarrassing. Every one of you were kind about it and supportive, and I greatly appreciate it.”

She looked at Jared. “You promote so much love and support in your AKF campaigns and with all of us fans, and I’m so grateful for that because you encourage us all to be better people.”

Jared put his hand on his heart and looked down at the ground, humbly accepting her gratitude. Then she looked at Jensen and her eyes welled up a little.

“Jensen, you made me feel truly safe and beautiful at a time when I would have sworn that was impossible, and whatever happens in my future, I’ll hold on to that feeling for the rest of my life and keep thanking you, always.”

Jensen leaned down, and for a wild moment she thought he might kiss her right on stage, but he just kissed her cheek and gave her a hug. But his voice was low and seductive in her ear.

“You’re more than welcome, sweetheart, and thank you for yesterday, and hopefully, for later tonight too?”

He pulled back slightly and Y/N blushed at the look of hunger in his eye, but she nodded her head quickly. “God yes.”

His smile was wide as he squeezed her hand and helped her hop down from the chair, waving as she left the stage with Jared and tossing her a wink that made her right knee wobble slightly, so that Jared had to steady her.

He chuckled as he helped her down the stairs and then gave her a bear hug at the bottom. He whispered in Y/N’s ear as the band played loudly and Jensen sang joyfully with Rob.

“So you’re the one my boy wouldn’t shut up about last night. I know him pretty well, so I feel completely confident that I’ll see you again soon.” He shot her a grin and squeezed her shoulders.

Y/N moved off to the side, not bothering to go back to her seat, just looking up at the stage and knowing in heart of hearts that this weekend had changed her whole life.

@lyarr24 @lacilou @deans-spinster-witch @globetrotter28 @suckitands33

@alwaystiredandconfused @jzackles @jackles010378 @impala67rollingthroughtown @krazykelly

@candy-coated-misery0731 @envyaurora95 @spnwoman @deans-baby-momma @luvr4miya

@arcannaa @viviwatchestv @winharry @ladysparkles78 @kr804573

@hobby27 @waywardcheshire @libby99hb @k-slla @leigh70

@whimsyfinny @kazsrm67 @slut-for-evans-stan @sexyvixen7 @nancymcl

@eevvvaa @kickingitwithkirk @foxyjwls007 @roseblue373 @mishkatelwarriorgoddess

@avanatural @mrsjenniferwinchester @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @deangirl96 @stoneyggirl2

@fanfic-n-tabulous @traiitorjoe @lastcallatrockysbar

[ghoulfuckersincorporated]

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.

[literatureloverx]

HIII OMG IT'S BEEN A WHILE😊😊(Not really) HOW ARE YOU DOING RN??? I HOPE YOUR FEELING GOOD IF NOT I HOPE THIS MAKE YOU FEEL NICE😘😘♥️♥️

Ah imagine this with me— you reading a book peacefully while dazai lays on your lap. Him staring into you thinking about how much you make him feel so warm inside. You'd notice it after a while and ask what's up and he'll try and say something to change the subject but you'd notice yet still let him. He'd yap about some random things and you'd just nod, brushing his hair with your hand.

Orrr

You just trying to do something whether it's cooking or laundry is up to you. Then he'd come from your back and hug you tightly, whining about how you're so busy why not rest and cuddle with him? You'd patiently deny it and try to continue but he whines more, snuggling into your neck hugging you tighter. His head on your neck made you ticklish and you laugh and try to get him off but he just continue till you can't anymore

Ah imagine that🫠🫠

Oh my gosh, ANON??!! It’s so adorable! ❤️ Thank you so much for sharing this with us! ❤️

By the way, I’d love to be able to distinguish you from other Anons. Would you like to claim an emoji to use? ❤️ Everyone is welcome to do so, and it would really help me keep track of who’s who. I’d be grateful if you did! ❤️

I wrote a short scenario based on it; I hope you like it. 🩵

“My handsome baby is being so whiny…”

He smirks. It’s clearly working.

“Bella!~ You’re always cleaning up when I’m around! Am I not deserving of your affection, my glorious goddess?”

That exaggerated voice is so typical of your boyfriend; it makes you smile softly each time.

“That’s because you don’t let me stay home or anywhere else without you. You drag me wherever you go. When am I supposed to get things done? You’re not helping either—“

Oh, it’s clearly not working.

He whines loudly, making you jump. His teeth gently bite into your neck, causing you to hiss.

“You’re being so mean, doll. You know if there’s one thing I hate, it’s cleaning up.”

“No, I believe it’s work that you hate the most,” you tease.

He makes a wounded noise, emphasizing his hurt feelings. You sigh softly and turn to face your beloved boyfriend, his face pouty and soft for you.

You cup his cheeks gently, a warm smile spreading across your lips. Oh, how you love this man. His warm, chocolate-brown eyes pierce right through your heart every time he gazes at you with such desperation—it feels like both a blessing and a curse.

“Hey, don’t look so upset. I’ll give you all the affection you desire. I just wanted to finish emptying the dishwasher before resting.”

He wins. You know it, and you let him win, as you always do, and he knows that too.

“That’s why you’re mine, Bella!~”

He doesn’t wait any longer, showering you with kisses all over your face, just like you do with him every morning, making you giggle in return.

Soon enough, his warm lips find yours.

All his. Indeed.

TO DAZAI’S MASTERLIST => HERE

TO MY OTHER WORKS => HERE

[xxzlushiez]

Can you do tom x f!reader who's in the band and they were always like bestfriends no feelings for eachother or anything but as they get older like around 2007/08 he starts to realize he's totally in love w/ reader and tries to get rid of his feelings by sleeping w/ a bunch of girls but nothing helps because he can only think of reader? And they end up going to a party together and having fun and shii and then they end up on a balcony outside just drinking out of solo cups totally plastered and tom confesses to reader and kisses her but reader is super shocked and surprised and doesn't really know what to say so she doesn't kiss him back and just stares at him, and he doesn't take it very well he's just like "...oh.." and then gets up and reader tries to stop him and he's like "no, no I'm just gonna go back to the party" and stumbles out w/ a broken heart but in reality reader liked him back too but didn't know she did until he confesses so over the next few weeks she realizes how much she's in love with him and she goes to his room to tell him all romantic and shit and they end up having soft sex (or not wtv you're comfortable with) ty sm!! I love your writing btw!

EEEHHHH THIS IS SO CUTE IM SO EXCITED TO DO THIS (and tysm for the compliment❤️)

Miscommunication

T! Kaulitz x F! Reader

Synopsis: you and Tom have always been good friends, but he realizes he wants to be more..what’ll happen when those feelings don’t falter?

Notes: 18+, Name is in the band, flashbacks to ‘Devilish’, drinking, getting drunk, concerts, parties, jealousy, talks of unrequited feelings, Tom being a attention whore💀, insecurities, platonic! Bill x reader, oral, soft sex, underlying sub! Tom (I hate using that word but idk how else to describe it???)

A/N:tysm Anon for requesting and I hope this lives up to your expectations, I decided to right this in normal style instead of bullet points, I hope you don’t mind. This is was frustrated I wanted to get it out on the 3rd😭 bro this is a few days later and it took so long because i just hate the way it turned out im so pissed at myself rn

“I act like I don’t care, that’s cause I don’t care”

For as long as you’ve lived you and Tom have stuck together like glue, you lived a few streets away but being one of the only kids their age in the neighborhood it was hard for you to not gravitate towards them.

You guys weren’t exactly alike, but more like you complimented each other, he was all brash and broody like almost every other boy going through puberty and you were kind and sweet always helping whenever it was needed.

Soon you were invited into a band that consisted of two other troublemaking kids you hadn’t met yet, you traveled around to small talent shows and state fairs to perform music. It was a rough start; you weren’t popular by any means and were made fun of for what you liked to do.

It didn’t get to you like it got to Tom yet you let him rant and yell about it to you because you knew, along with everyone else, that it was just a matter of time before you five would be praised for your talents instead of bullied.

And you were, your band became a hit, Devilish became Tokio Hotel, garage performances became studio practices, and backyard shows slowly became country-wide concerts. Tom also changed, from a little boy who would yell at anyone who messed with his friends to a teen that couldn’t even bother with people hating.

It was different, you were all different, but it was a good difference. Bill became confident, Tom became more open, Gustav wasn’t shy, and Georg was well…Georg was amazing to begin with, it just doubled. The few fans that consisted of you guy’s parents and a few old neighbors became thousands, girls and boys alike paid to come and watch the five of you perform live.

When 2009 rolled around you were known across all of Germany and a few other countries. You couldn’t have been more successful, as the years progressed Tom morphed into someone completely different. Everyone knew of his reputation, a boy who had a new girl in his car every day.

You guys didn’t drift per se, but you didn’t talk about all the things like you used to. That was okay, some things are better left unsaid, but it was weird. You both used to talk to each other about everything and it just changed so suddenly it left you confused for a while.

But you learned to accept the fact that he wasn’t the same and took advantage of that time to get closer to the rest of the band, especially Bill. He became your number 1, always there with you whether it be shopping to helping you get ready. This was one of those instances where you ended up in your shared hotel room with him and Tom.

“This is going to look really good on your Name I promise!”

You let Bill practice his makeup skills on you, a little hesitant at first because of the particular style but when you saw how his face lit up when you agreed you couldn’t say no. Bill also said the style suited you perfectly.

Tonight, was particularly special compared to other nights. It was a large party hosted by a company in celebration of Tokio Hotel’s rise to fame. Bill made it a goal to doll you up in fancy lipstick and glittery eyeshadow before leaving, which Tom wasn’t too keen on.

“Bill hurry up the party starts in like 20 minutes.”

You looked over a Tom from the corner of your eye. He was sprawled out on your bed flicking through the channels on the hotel’s tv. He was already ready and had been ready for at least an hour now.

“Be patient Tommy not everyone can just wear whatever they find on the floor.”

Bill let out a laugh when he saw how offended his brother got at your insult before turning back and applying pretty shade to your lips.

“Tom wah wah hurry up the party starts in 20 minutes blah blah blah!”

He mocked his brother in a high-pitched voice before pulling his brother from the bed and onto the hard floor with a thump! grabbing your hand and running out of the room leaving him behind as you laugh.

“What the fuck you two! Get back here, I’m literally your ride to the party!”

———

The party was boring if you were being honest. But that was probably just you. There was no one you knew except the band and some celebrities and they were all doing their own thing so you were stuck lying on one of the many plush sofas the company had lying around.

Your eyes trailed over to Tom as he walked towards you, handing you a vibrant red solo cup while he settled himself next to you on the couch, moving your legs to lay comfortably over his lap while you stared at the contents of the cup.

“What’re you doing just sitting here? You’re always in the mood to party.”

He was right, you loved to party. It was one of the only times you could let loose when on tour. Today you just weren’t feeling it like you usually were.

“I don’t know, I think it’s the fact that I ordered a Pina Colada and got vodka. But who knows.”

He hummed as he absentmindedly observed the area. Tom had an unusual habit of wanting to be around you but never talking, preferring silence, it never bothered you so you let your head lay against the armchair swirling the drink around in your hand as you observed him.

He was never really good at taking your compliments, always avoiding them in some way with a “What’re you talking about?” Or the “Name just shut the fuck up”. You figured it had to do with the whole ‘I’m too cool for compliments’ thing he had going on, but it never stopped you from slipping up and saying something every once in a while.

“You're so beautiful Tom” and he was, honestly. His eyes reflected the neon lights that flashed above giving him that euphoric effect, the curves and dips of his face were perfectly sculpted to him. His true smile was so unbelievably cute, one that only you and the band had the pleasure of seeing, and his laugh…oh my god his laugh. You were definitely drunk. Whatever.

He gave you a quick side eye at the sudden praise before getting up and grabbing the cup out of your hand successfully spooking you.

“Let’s go smoke.”

‘Let’s go smoke’ was usually his way of saying “you're being annoying, let's get high” but you nodded and took his waiting hand as he led you through the busy crowd and out some double doors.

When out on the fairly sized balcony he grabbed a joint from out of one of the side pockets on his pants, while you flicked open your lighter that you had found stuffed under some gum and candy wrappers in your handbag.

He always enjoyed it when you smoked together, the delicate flame illuminated your face just enough to see the features that he’d always admired. Maybe that’s why he hated it when you complimented him, because he always wanted to do the same but couldn’t. 

Nervousness wasn’t something he felt. There was no reason for him to be nervous. Nerves were for insecurity, anxiousness, that was bullshit to him, well until it came to you, and that oh so familiar feeling bubbled up in his stomach when you looked at him under the dim light.

He concluded that he had a thing for you pretty early on, when he was about 16. One time you pulled a fan on stage that you told the band you found particularly attractive. Bill teased you and Georg and Gustav laughed as you all made your way to the bus, but he stayed back. Deciding that the pit in his stomach wasn’t jealousy like he thought it might be and just that natural protective feeling for a friend.

He didn’t want to think about the possibility that he liked you. You’d always been best friends and that was how it was supposed to say. He remembers how Bill would always tell him “Being best friends with someone like Name isn’t a good idea” because he wouldn’t wanna be just friends. Bill was right and that scared him.

After that realization he took notice of who he gravitated towards in hookups, they all looked in some way, like you. He thought it was weird. It wasn’t like he selectively picked out the ones with similar features as you…right?

“-Tom, are you listening? Pass the joint you hog”

You plucked the blunt from his hand and he stared as you inhaled some of it, releasing the air into his face, looking at him with a weird expression. You watched him stride forward and suddenly his lips were pressed against yours.

You pulled away after a few antagonizing seconds and hesitantly looked at him. You saw the way his face dropped, probably realizing what he just did. Shit.

“Tom I... you're drunk. It’s fine, okay? You won’t remember this in the morning let’s just...let’s just go home, okay?”

That nerve quickly turned into frustration as he rolled his eyes turning towards the entrance and muttering something under his breath before pushing through the doors back into the party, leaving you alone on the cold balcony with a burnt out joint and heart.

———

It had been a few weeks since the incident on the balcony, and you concluded that he did remember it the day after as he wouldn’t talk or even be around you alone. It was fine at first, but by the time the second week rolled around it was starting to affect everyone else. 

His performance was slower than normal, and he brought more girls to the hotel who unsurprisingly leaked where he was were staying and crowded around the hotel to catch a glimpse of the five of you.

He was being so unprofessional; he didn't give you time to voice your feelings about what happened and just up and left you in the dark. Like how do you even bring that up?

“Hey Tom, yeah I know that I didn’t kiss you back even though you totally unexpectedly pounced on me and it looked like I rejected you because I thought you were full-on plastered but like I’m in love with you so could you stop ignoring me?”

Yeah, that’s a no. So, you just endured it for a while until he decided to lay off. That point happened around the 3-week mark when the band was on a small break from tour.

He made it his goal to stay inside his room the whole time, sulking as Bill told you. You were at ends meet, if he couldn’t just talk to you about it like adults then you would have to do it yourself.

This leads up to the moment where you’re standing in front of his door contemplating all your life choices.

Crrrrrreeeakkk

Are you serious, the one time you were hesitant about your decision he just had to open the door and make it for you?

“Name?”

“Hey, Tom uhh..can we talk about the party?” This is so awkward. What the fuuck.

He stood there hesitant for a second before opening up the door for you to come in. You ducked under his arm and situated yourself at the edge of his bed as he stared at you from the doorway.

“Okay um..so I’ve been thinking a lot about that moment and I just wanted to ask you something.”

He gave you a small nod of acknowledgment and you continued. 

“Do you like me? Like I don’t know if the reason you kissed me was just heat of the moment and you just got upset because you were drunk and your feelings were all mixed or something but I really want us to go back to normal…I miss you a lot and it's weird not seeing you at our practices”

You watched him closely for any signs of discomfort but his face was unwavering except for a light smile at your words easing your nerves only a little.

“I like you; I’ve liked you for years And Scheiße I miss you too but don’t wanna be just your friend anymore and if that changes things between us just forget about this whole thing”

You smiled softly walking towards him and cupping his face with your hands, bringing your lips to his feeling him relax into you. 

His breath caught in his throat when you grazed your fingers against the front of his pants, slightly palming him through the jeans when he abruptly pulled your hand away.

“Name I wanna do this with you…but I don’t wanna have sex like I normally do. I want it to mean something because you really mean something, I just don’t know how”

“Let me show you, Tom.”

——

Tom groaned when your lips pressed against his pelvis, muscles flexing underneath you at the feeling. You hummed in contentment before coming back up to him and giving him a quick kiss and taking off his boxers.

He’d never had someone take their time on him, it was foreign, different, you looked so pretty as you toyed with his cock. Seeing what made him shiver and what gave him goosebumps. 

Laying your tongue flat you licked a thick strip up the underside of his dick watching the way his eyes roll back in pleasure.

“Mhm…just- just like that Name please mhm…keep going.”

Voice slightly weak, he begged you to continue, not like you’ve ever heard and it encouraged you to continue, hands slick with his precum you stroked him at a controlled pace, squeezing slightly at the head hearing his soft curses get louder.

“Let’s empty that brain of yours ‘mkay?”

While you made yourself comfortable on top of him you felt his hips shift under you, his hands finding place on your hips. You align yourself with his cock, sliding down and listening to the way he mutters your name like a prayer as his cock disappears inside you.

“Shit this is much better than I ever imagined… s’much better...” his eyes raked your body seeing his hips met your thighs. You push down on his legs to keep him steady and use them as leverage to grind against him. Not even minutes later did his quiet concealed groans turn into gasps and random obscenities.

Seeing your pace begin to slow he flips himself over taking you with him, letting your legs rest flush against his shoulders next to his ears. He experimentally rocks his hips finding a comfortable rhythm, laying his hand flat on your stomach feeling at the bulge.

Now it was your turn to be a noisy mess, covering your face with a pillow in an attempt to muffle yourself but it was quickly discarded somewhere on the floor by Tom.

“Don’t- don’t do that- you look so pretty writhing under me like that, I could stare at you all day…shit shit shit.. if you keep tightening around me, I won’t last long...”

You smiled as you looked up at him. His eyes were closed tight and his jaw was clenched tight, focused on how you squeezed around him. You let your hand travel to his face tracing his features. His eyes opened at the touch and he sucked in his breath, feeling his high approaching.

 You were glowing, your hair fanned out on the bed, your eyes slightly glassy from his pace, sweat collecting on your hairline, suddenly every part of him felt so sensitive and his lips connected with yours before his hips stuttered letting out a guttural moan making sure you had ridden through your orgasm.

You cried out in his neck holding him against you as he continued for a little longer before coming to a halt, collapsing on top of you. Holding you against him in a vice grip. 

“I love you Name, a lot”

[naturesapphic]

Can I request a rhea ripley x fem reader where the reader is untra ticklish and Rhea finds out and dosnt do anything about it but the reader actually loves it?

I love your writing ❤️

Ticklish

Rhea ripley x fem!reader

Warnings: fluff

Everyone who was close to you, like family and friends, knew how ticklish you were. Except for your new girlfriend Rhea Ripley, who has been your girlfriend for about four months now. She didn’t know and you weren’t going to tell her at all, because every time you tell someone, they automatically tickle you to death and you get upset. To which they never understand why and they think you are overreacting.

So you probably won’t ever tell Rhea in the fear of them doing that to you. Rhea and you were backstage on raw where she was finishing up her hair and makeup. You walked up to her as she was sitting in the chair and leaned over to leave a peck on her cheek. “What was that for princess?” She smiled as she looked at you with her soft gaze she only saves for you. “Just because I wanted to and you just look really pretty right now.” You say blushing and looking down at your feet shyly.

Rhea smiled and lifted your head with her fingertips, making you look at her. “Don’t be all shy babygirl. It’s alright.” She said softly and you nodded your head. Someone came into the room and told Rhea that she had three minutes left before she had to get on. She finished everything up and she got up from her chair and hugged you, careful not to mess up her makeup. “I’ll see you in a bit my koala. You can hang out in the judgement day lounge for a bit until we need to film in there.” She said and you nodded.

“Good luck baby! Even though you really don’t need it.” You say and Rhea chuckles at you and blows you a kiss.

~ after the show ~

Raw ended and you were waiting in the judgement day lounge waiting for your girlfriend until you hear a knock on the door and your girlfriend opens it, making you jump up. You ran over to you and jump in her arms, making her chuckle. Her hands landed on your waist and you tense up, trying to hold your laugh in. Rhea felt how tense you had gotten and quickly put you down on your feet. “Baby what’s wrong? Did I make you uncomfortable?” She asked, worry filling her eyes. You shook your head no making her sigh out in relief.

I guess it’s now or never. “I’m extremely ticklish in some areas and I didn’t tell you because I was scared that if I told you that you would go tickle me anyway even thought I absolutely hate it.” You explain and Rheas gaze was turned from confusion to understanding. “Oh I see. That’s okay angel I won’t ever do something you don’t like. Even if I think it’s a joke. It might not be to you and I respect that.” She said as she pulls you into her strong embrace. You sigh happily and hug her tightly.

“Thank you rhe…”. You quietly said and Rhea leans down to kiss the top of your head. “No need to thank me. I don’t want my girl upset.” Rhea responded and you nodded against her chest. “Let’s go home baby and watch some horror movies.” She said smirking as she took your hand to go outside to her truck. You groaned but had a playful smile on your face as the two of you went home. From that day on, every now and then you continue to thank Rhea for being so understanding and respectful towards you and you could never thank her enough.

A/n: I wasn’t sure how to end it lol thank you anon for the request and I love you too! I hope you and the rest of y’all enoyed. Remember to stay hydrated and to rest! I love y’all! :)

[churipu]

Hi, may i request jjk men s/o is like roxana agriche ? If you don't know her, she was described as a ravishingly beautiful young woman with wavy golden hair that reaches below her waist and long lashes framing her crimson eyes. She often wears elegant dresses with butterfly motifs. Thank youuuu,! ❤️

ROXANNE ! — JJK MEN AND THEIR "ROXANA AGRICHE" PARTNER

featuring. gojo satoru, toji fushiguro, sukuna ryomen x reader

warnings. cursing

note. hi anon! i took some time into looking into roxana agriche and her personality. i could see sources saying she's a cunning person and somehow manipulative to get what she wants + she's mellow voiced and poised too. i don't read the series, so i hope i didn't butcher your request. thank you for requesting anon, i hope you enjoy this!

GOJO SATORU. he loves how calm you are at times — but with his energetic nature, on other times he feels like you should try to loosen up. sure you do laugh at his jokes, or pop a smile every once in a while. gojo loves you.

he just wishes you'd loosen up, with him. only him.

he finds your personality endearing and unique. that's why he fell in the first place, you managed to fool him the first time you both met — and ever since that day, he's been so interested in you (eventually falling in love with you).

you're such an unique person, with your various colored butterfly motive dresses that's now carved into a personality, your cool as a cucumber personality.

believe me when i said he took a long time chasing after you, trying to make you fall for him, he's done everything. get you chocolates, get you flowers, pizza, kikufuku. and one day you just accepted him and boom! he's your boyfriend.

but sometimes, he feels like he isn't. and it's starting to etch into his mind that you were just using him.

"satoru, are you listening to me?"

"are you using me?" you looked at him with that eyes of yours, that somehow looked so empty it scares gojo sometimes. you were silent, so gojo decided to speak again, "did you accept me out of pity?"

no. the answer is no. you do really like him, you're in love with him. people around you perceive you as someone cunning and manipulative — that you just had to...keep up with it. you felt like showing other things would be such a weakness.

"why are you saying that? have you been watching those sappy weird dramas again?" gojo heaved out a sigh.

"just because you say that you love me, doesn't mean i feel loved by you." okay, your relationship was in a verge of crumbling away right now and you honestly didn't know what to do, "are you listenin' to me. y/n?"

"i am."

"say something about it then."

it was either this whole personality, or gojo, "i do love you, satoru," you tell him, "and i apologize if i don't make you feel loved, that is completely a mistake in my part. you do a lot of things for me, and..i don't do as much for you. i apologize for that."

it will always be gojo over this whole personality, weakness and stuff.

hearing the word "apologize" made gojo flutter, you weren't really the type to apologize in the first place, so this all seemed like a fever dream to him, "i know 'm not doing much for you right now, but i do love you— and, i just...don't know how to show it to you. i'm so sorry."

you're a person of your own words, gojo felt loved, and you felt loved. it was a total win for the both of you.

TOJI FUSHIGURO. he could care less about your whole personality or how much people hate it, in fact, your personality is one of the thing he loves most about you. other than that, there is one thing that he doesn't like about you.

he hates how beautiful you are. let's be real, as much as toji tries to show himself off as a bold and macho man — he's human too, and i feel like sometimes he feels a little insecure and scared. scared that you'll find someone better than him, then leave.

although he's never said that directly to your face, he shows it to you. and you knew, but also said nothing about his behavior. toji is an assassin, he's a sorcerer killer, he gets missions that required a long time. and in those times, he couldn't help but to think that you'll leave him to find someone better.

someone who could be there for you. someone obviously more perfect.

and as much as you don't show it to him, he's the most perfect. you'd never tell him that indirectly, but you show it through your actions. after all, actions do speak louder than words, right?

"what is your motive, toji?" you murmur into his shoulder— the male has been indubitably clingy for the past couple of hours, it was starting to get suspicious.

"what? 'm not allowed to hug my own partner now or something?" he retorted back.

"you're acting quite odd."

toji stayed mute. and it was obvious what he was doing, when everyone couldn't see right through him— there you were, reading him like an open book, "don't understand what you're talkin' 'bout."

you rubbed your hand on the back of his head, "i know you understand what i'm talking about," his body visibly flinches, but you paid no mind to that, your fingers trailing small circles on his nape, "what is it that you're afraid of?"

toji knew he could never lie to you, "you. leaving."

you pressed a kiss on to the side of his face, "well, you're worried over nothing. i'm not leaving you, not now at least."

toji pulls away, narrowing his eyes at you.

"hey, you never know when i'll die."

like hell toji would let that happen.

SUKUNA RYOMEN. like toji, he loves your personality — he's a brash person, and you were a cool headed person. name a better duo than that. often he'd find himself the one to ramble a lot in the relationship, complaining about how people are such shitty beings and how he'd rather be a rock.

one thing he despises is when people turn their heads to take a double-look at you whenever you both go out, it always annoyed him how people don't understand why he was there with you. or how it wasn't obvious enough that you were taken. by him.

"fucking shits."

you couldn't help but to smile at his fits of cursing, smiling lightly as you look up at him, "what's the matter?"

"'m seconds away from gauging their eyes.." sukuna mumbles out, scratching the back of his head sheepishly — he's a jealous person, there's no doubt to that of course, it's quite obvious is it not? what belongs to his is only his, nobody else's.

"how adorable."

sukuna despises it when you call him adorable, or how calm you are even if you know people turn their heads to look at you. he never asks you about it or why you never said anything to them, but he didn't like it, he wanted you to say something; show him off to these people, show him that he's yours too.

"are you jealous?"

"..no." hesitation was his enemy, with the slightest bit of pause — you could tell that he's lying through his words.

"do you perhaps want to go back home then?" home was the best place for you both (sukuna thinks, because he has your full attention and he doesn't have to worry about other people). he nodded his head and rolled his eyes.

"you should stop wearing these..dresses. wear them just for me," he mutters out.

"so you are jealous?"

"'m not. just saying."

he is jealous.

© CHURIPU 2023 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE !

[jaythes1mp]

HI HOW ARE YOU I HOPE YOU’RE WELL!

I loved the way you wrote the Goldfish! Reader one shot I was surprised you wrote it so fast but excited! You could’ve taken your time with writing but it had me giddy when I was reading it!

This idea popped up again in my head from where you said that Conner would have to break the news to Damian about the goldfish reader not being there and it’s a fake fish that looks real similar.

During lunch:

Conner who barley had any classes with Damian that day and only could meet with him during lunch: H hey buddy you know that’s not goldfish! Reader right?

Damian who’s feeding the fish: hmm what do you mean of course it’s them.

Conner who can see the little differences and maybe hear the different heartbeat or something: that’s not them

Damian realizing the differences is like: this is just a common fish?! Who could’ve- *cuts himself off realizing who and growls out* Drake!

*the common goldfish just vibing, liking the tank and food* (^.^)

Wayne Enterprises:

Tim who’s doing paper work for Bruce sneezes out of nowhere: huh wonder who’s talking about me now?

*Tim smiles at reader in goldfish form realizing it’s time to feed me opens the enclosures little lid or something dropping premium pellets in*

Tim: here you go some food! Huh it’s time for lunch for me too.

*goldfish! Reader who had been sleeping on a comfy rock perks up at the sound of fish pellets hitting the water*

Goldfish! Reader!: As much as I hate the fact that I’m like this these some really good freaking premium fish pellets *the words just come out in air bubbles*

*quickly swims to get them and eats the pellets going through the hoop that’s in the tank after that and decides to go to the filter bubbles bored swimming against the mini current letting it push them away having fun and than determined to not get pushed by said current so swims determinedly against it*

Tim watching this taking pictures that he’s definitely gonna print later: Wow look at you go!

ALSO WOW THE BIG GOLDFISH BLEW MY MIND!

Also another scenario Raccoon! Reader sneaking out and determined to get to the trash and is going through it when their picked up by an unamused Alfred who promptly squirts them with a water bottle as he carries them back into the manor taking and scolding them and the reader just chitters and screeches angrily at him but doesn’t attack him because he makes good food.

Raccoon! Reader: *chittering and screeching angrily in Raccoon speak* Alfred it’s in my nature to do this you can’t stop me! The other raccoons are doing it why can’t I?! You’re embarrassing me and ruining my street cred in front of them! *sees the other raccoons nearby and screeches louder chittering more embarrassed and angry* I’m not a cub / kit s not fair! *throughs up paws to cover themselves the face and grabbing their ears*

Alfred tsking carrying them by the scruff: We must take you a bath now and take out that raccoon book bag harness (like a kids child leash book bag thing) during the night! Who would like to have you first during the night to make sure you don’t escape hmm Master Richard or Master Damian? Or Master Bruce?

Raccoon! Reader: *screeches more*

SORRY FOR THE LONG ASK/ SCENARIO! IT JUST WOULDN’T LEAVE MY HEAD!

I HOPE YOU HAVE A WONDERFUL DAY/ NIGHT/ EVENING!!!!💜💚🩵💙❤️🩷💛🩶🖤🧡

⭐️anon

Hey ⭐️! I’m good, how are you?

These are so cute!! I love your little raccoon reader scenario. If they were more lenient yans who know that you’ll come back, then that would definitely happen.

Also, RIGHT??? Goldfish facts are actually crazyy

「SORRY FOR THE LONG ASK/SCENARIO! IT WOULDN’T LEAVE MY HEAD!」 ← anytime dude! I love these💚

Masterlist

[elllisaaa]

Hello, Eli! ❤️

First off, your work gives me LIFE 😩 I love the way you write 🥹❤️

Secondly, I would like to request a afab reader x sub!dino (Seventeen) where the reader is older than him (like maybe a couple years at most, a year at the least)?

And if you’re comfortable, maybe he has a thing for calling her “Noona” inside and outside of the bedroom? 😁

If you’re only comfortable with doing the older!afab reader x sub!dino that’s totally fine! Please do with whatever is in your comfort zone ❤️

Thank you and love your work again! 🥹

- Anon 💚

hii anonie ! first thank you so much for this, it means a lot to me and i'm really glad you like my work that much ❤️ honestly, sub men are my weakness so it was no problem at all writing this, i'm sorry it took me so long to get to it but i hope you'll like it nonetheless, love you ❤️

CHAN with a NOONA KINK who had always been attracted to older women, and whose obsession only got worse as soon as he met you. you were the most beautiful human being he had ever seen, smart too, very funny and a dancer - exactly his type and more.

the first time you had told him you thought he was cute, chan felt like he might faint. but then, the first time he got a taste of your pussy, he got addicted for life. the noona thing was just some teasing at first, just because he knew you hated to be reminded of your age. but as time went on, he came to like it as a term of endearment. he called you "his noona" in front of his members and friends without any shame, he was proud and grateful to be able to call someone like you his - and he made it everyone else's business. and in the end, you came to like it too. it was especially very cute when you called him out for it and he blushed and became so shy.

the first time he called you that in bed, it shocked the both of you. you had been edging him for a while and chan was barely holding on to the last piece of his sanity, cheeks flushed and covered in tears, desperate, needy whine slipping past his lips. "please, please, please ! i need to cum noona, please…" you stopped moving your hand around his cock, and slapped his own over his mouth, embarrassment written all over his face. "you want noona to make you cum ?" you asked with a grin on your face, and chan hesitantly nodded, moaning as soon as you started to stroke him again. "then go on baby, be a good boy and cum for noona." you whispered against his ear, and chan didn't need more than that to cover your hand in his sticky release.

you calling yourself "noona" made chan hard every time, but you couldn't deny how wet it made you whenever he moaned the petname in a broken voice. either way, chan always made sure to claim his amazing noona, and you always made sure to reward him just as he liked it.

[aphroditelovesu]

Hi can I request poly Regulus and Sirius Black headcannons please?

❝ — 🔮 lady l: hey! I hope you like it, anon! I'm not sure if it's good, but... Well, I hope you like it anyway and appreciate these two wizards! Forgive me for any mistakes and good reading. ❤️❤️

❝tw: obsessive and possessive behavior, jealousy, implicit murder, polyamorous relationships, unhealthy romantic relationships, messy writing.

❝🔮pairing: yandere!regulus black x gender neutral!reader x yandere!sirius black.

Once Regulus and Sirius showed interest in you, there were two options: you were either the luckiest person in the world or the unluckiest. Both were valid, because these two wizards will not give up their darling for anyone.

There's really no way to know which one became obsessed with you first and it doesn't really matter. Regulus won't give up for anything and Sirius is quite committed to getting you all to himself.

The two brothers were never really close, mainly due to the fact that Sirius hated his parents and Regulus followed them blindly and this irritated him deeply. There was nothing that connected them other than the fact that they belonged to the same family and that didn't matter to either of them. Sirius, even if he denies it, wanted to be closer to his younger brother, but when he became interested in you, it changed everything.

Regulus was indifferent towards his brother, he didn't bother him but he didn't please him either, he simply didn't care about him. He aspired to become a Death Eater and there was nothing and no one that would make him give up on his goals.

They lived their separate lives at Hogwarts and that always worked, until you got into the story. Sirius immediately took a liking to you when he met you, regardless of your house, he wanted to be a friend to you and perhaps more than that. He constantly followed you through the halls of Hogwarts and introduced you to his friends and was ecstatic when you all got along. From then on, Sirius' desire for you became more apparent and he became a little possessive of others who came close to you.

Regulus knew he had fallen in love with you the moment he met you. He just didn't know why, but you made him feel something he had never felt before and he craved it. He longed for you. Regulus began to spend more time by your side, inserting himself into your routine, your classes and even your free time, becoming a stalker. He learned everything you liked so he could attract you. Regulus wanted you to trust him blindly and let yourself be guided by him. He would eventually become possessive and very suffocating.

Once they discovered each other's interest in you, things got complicated, especially for you. They didn't want to share you, but they weren't willing to let go of their obsession either. Very reluctantly, Sirius proposed a deal to share you with his brother, even though he didn't want to, he still had your best interests at heart and wanted the best for you. Regulus hesitated, his possessiveness screamed but he eventually ended up accepting his brother's deal, because then he realized that it would be easier for you to love him completely, once you realized Sirius's flaws.

The touches were affectionate and never aggressive. You were the one who had all the control in their relationship and they seemed satisfied with that. The first kiss was shy and a little awkward, you felt strange kissing one brother with the other watching you and waiting to be kissed, but it was a good experience. When your lips touched Sirius's, it was like butterflies exploded in your stomach and all you saw was him. Kissing Regulus had been more possessive and demanding, but nothing that got out of control, his lips were soft and gentle against yours and his arms wrapped around your waist.

Contrary to what everyone thought, the relationship worked very well for some time. They loved you and worshiped the ground you walked on, always taking care of you and spoiling you and their fights were never around you. They were very protective and when any potential threat threatened to get to you, they would deal quickly and definitively.

They wanted you to be comfortable with everything and that included everything from everyday things like drinking coffee to the most intimate activities. Sirius loved watching you, his eyes shining while you did something, while Regulus preferred to participate and loved having you in his arms. Sirius loved kissing your neck and touching the most sensitive places on your body, teasing you. Regulus was more active and liked to be on top and have control, his kisses were possessive and his touches more assertive than provocative.

As more time passed, the more possessive they became and their jealousy was directed at each other like other people. Sirius loved his friends and he knew they loved you, so he always felt embarrassed when he got jealous of them, but he couldn't help being so insecure and afraid of being abandoned by you. You constantly need to remind him that you loved him.

Regulus is the most possessive and his eyes were sharp for anyone who got too close to you and he was ready to commit murder if no one stopped him. Although calm, he still has an icy fury within him and that is dangerous. He's especially jealous of his brother, but he hates it when anyone else comes close to you, to what belongs to him.

They worked well together and the relationship brought them together, although jealousy was still present. There wasn't a day that went by that you didn't know you were loved, the hugs, the kisses, the touching and the gifts were a constant reminder of their love and devotion to you.

Anyone who tries to do you any harm will be eliminated without remorse. They would ally and destroy the bastard who dared to hurt you, you were theirs not only to love but to protect and they would do it with pride and without any regret.

Your relationship was put to the test when Regulus joined the Death Eaters and your heart was shattered, not only because your beloved had allied with them but because Sirius seemed devastated by his brother's choice. You knew they still cared about each other despite Regulus' choices, but they wouldn't admit it and with that choice made, the competitiveness became insane.

There was no longer a deal to be made and you needed to choose between one of the brothers. They would no longer share and the situation had become unbearable to deal with. But you loved them and couldn't choose between one or the other. Any affection they had for each other became empty and ignored and when they begged you to choose one, you cried. You would have to choose and there was no guarantee that they would respect your choice in the end.