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𝐉𝐨𝐡𝐧 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐧 -

“Strangers in the Night”

John Marston - Red Dead Redemption II (2018)

Female reader, no (Y/N) or OC used.

Content Warning: Oral sex (receiving), fingering, basically just John Marston eating you out in the bathroom of a bar.

Word count: 1286

of course the night would end like this. entangled in a strange man’s arms, his calloused hand desperately grasping your tresses. chapped lips met yours, his soft groans and pleading whispers fogging the already tense bathroom.

you came to the bar for some drinks and fun. the flirting, although provocative at times, was harmless. intimacy was not the goal for the night. after all, who the hell would have sex with a man they had hardly met?

you. you would.

“look at you.” the man, supposedly named John, praised huskily. his digits ran over your cleavage, gingerly playing with the buttons of your top. boots shuffled over the old, dirty wooden floorboards. there was a muffled creak everytime john shifted his weight.

this wasn’t something you were used to. past flings consisted of friends or fleeting relationships.

but all worry washed away — like seawater retreating from a beach — once his sandpaper tongue dragged across your jugular. his hot, drunken breath was practically imprinted onto your skin at this point.

“wouldn’t the hotel be ideal?” you finally whimpered out, thoughts spilling from your loose lips without a second thought. maybe it was your inebriated state. or maybe it was the sheer amount of pleasure you trembled with.

“we’ll save the hotel for round two.” he chuckled against your flesh, staring up at you like a mutt would it’s owner.

“round two?” you inquired gently, but was cut off by an intrusive whimper which fell from your mouth. his lips traveled from your throat to exposed breasts, where he unbuttoned your top further — before fully peeling the clothing off.

in the same second, his grasp moved from your hair to the clasp of your bra. he maintained eye contact, his chest heaving with yours. fumbling for a few long, drawn out moments — he finally was able to peel the fabric from your skin.

“d’ya think you can be quiet, missy?” John suggested, his voice akin to rough pebbles harshly scraping against eachother. although desperately nodding, you both shared the knowledge that he’d likely have to muffle your noises.

in a tantalizing maneuver, his focus averted to your chest, where he lavished attention upon the succulent flesh. gentle, slow licks around your right nipple became needy sucks upon the bud — his tongue swirling around the hardened flesh. your other breast was not abandoned, though, and his hand immediately fondled it. John took his time caring for you. worshipping you — despite only just meeting you in this crowded bar.

but that didn’t matter. the sounds of drunken laughter and cheers were muffled — and the noises of sweet, tender intimacy took over. like a delicate tango of passion and desire.

throwing your head back, you allowed tiny mewls to drag from your throat, and it only encouraged the man in front of you. sure, he was drunk — but he knew how to use his mouth.

“jesus — can’t you just fuck me already?” you moaned hoarsely, unable to put a stop to your thoughtless comments. in truth, you did enjoy all of this sweet, loving care — but the way your core screamed for attention wasn’t something to dismiss.

“ain’t you just an impatient girl?” John jested, gazing up at you with that coy smirk of his.

“don’t give me that.” you huffed between heavy breaths, unable to contain the sheer excitement you had been feeling. not that containment mattered — John could already see the visible damp area in your jeans.

“no, no. i enjoy this. i enjoy needy women.” he attempted to reassure you, but it fell flat. you only scoffed.

“now just how many women have you done this with?” in truth, it really didn’t matter. while you were curious, this was a simple one-night stand. a night of intense pleasure, only to be brushed off the next day for a return to mundane life.

“none as gorgeous as you.” he chirped, emitting a generous laugh from you. one thing was for sure: John was witty. “since you can’t be patient,” he began, his hands moving to your belt buckle and tugging your jeans to your ankles, “guess we won’t be needin’ these no more.” he finished.

John slowly began slinking to his knees, his fingers kneading into the soft flesh of your thighs as he leaned forward — burying his nose into the damp area of your panties. he inhaled leisurely, his eyes fluttering closed. you noticed just how long his lashes were at that moment. how they seemed to perfectly meet his scarred, blemished skin. perhaps the alarm bells should’ve gone off the moment a man with laceration scars across his cheek initiated conversation— but logic didn’t apply in this situation. only inclination.

the tip of his wet tongue met the fabric, gently prodding against your clothes entrance. another whimper left you, and he chuckled once again, the vibrations of his baritone voice only increasing the desperate ache in your core.

“so desperate.” he commented, hooking his indexes around the band of your underwear before peeling it away. you watched with curiosity (and arousal) as he eyed your glistening core, completely breathless for some long moments. he gazed upwards, meeting eye contact with you, before looking away like a shy boy.

but this second of vulnerability didn’t last long, and the outlaw on his knees began to lap up your damp folds as if he were a starving animal. your back met the splintering wood walls behind you, your legs trembling as you stood. this position was impossible. the thought of losing your balance was somehow more embarrassing than sharing an intimate moment with a stranger.

he rubbed his palms over your upper thighs, massaging the tense area for a moment before delving back into your depths. his tongue prodded into you, feeling and tasting every inch of your tightening walls. apparently you tasted good, because John physically couldn’t get enough. he moaned against your core, unable to stop his own noises from becoming conjoined with yours.

“so good for me. you’re so good.” he groaned praise, barely taking time for air as he ate your drenched cunt dry. the outlaw’s left hand drifted upwards, while the other continued to gingerly knead your thigh.

his thumb rubbed over your clit in circles, lavishing attention to the swollen bud — all while continuing his oral assault. at this point, your mind was practically blank. your palm muffled most of the desperate whines which vocalized. in your lower stomach, you could already feel the tension increase — like a knot begging to become undone. the last few moments were pure bliss, causing you to throw your head back.

your hand became entangled with his dark, messy hair — and you held a painfully tight grip upon his scalp. but he paid no mind. he only cared for the meal in front of him.

after some long moments of pleasurable tension, you finally released over his face — and John greedily licked up every droplet of delectable essence you had emitted. it took all of your power to not collapse onto the ground. instead, you simply slumped against the wall, your legs trembling as you attempted to regain much needed composure.

without much warning, he lazily pressed his moist mouth to yours, the taste of your release mixed with saliva. his body pressed against yours, forcing you to wrap your legs around his waist. unable to do much, you returned the kiss without much thought, trembling as his digits danced across your spine. after one passionate kiss, John started peppering kisses across your face. anything to memorize you.

“is this the part where i take you to my hotel room?” John muttered, that underlying jest plaguing his tone.

you didn’t mind, though.

#red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption john #john marston #red dead redemption x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #smut #rough draft

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