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#and JOHNNY being the one to cool him down and bring him back
ceilidho · 2 months
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prompt: forced throuple au; Ghost decides that you and Johnny are his (part 3; ghoap x reader) part 1, part 2
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“What is this anyway—‘bring your girlfriend to work’ day?”
She’s snarky as ever, but with an agitated edge. Nerves prickling when Johnny holds her jacket out for her to slip her arms into. Even that makes her snap—something about not being a toddler that Johnny needs to help dress, but by then his head is in the clouds. In another place altogether. 
The prospect of getting to parade his new girl around leaves him giddy, fox-like grin hard to squash. He doesn’t suppress anything, finds it hard to push things down. When he does, it’s often unconscious. 
She doesn’t like the way he savours her anxiety like a fine wine, sniffs it from the top of her head and groans out his breath, cackling when she tries to stomp on his foot to make him go away. He dances away with her coat, light and nimble on his feet because he’s used to ducking and weaving for her affection. 
“The guys wanna meet ye,” he repeats for the umpteenth time. It’s surprising how many times he’s had to say it. 
“Why? Haven’t they ever met a girl before?” she gripes, swallowing now, her stomach probably cramping and poor bonnie lass, Johnny thinks. His poor, pretty girl is trying to put on a brave face when he knows she prefers being in the backroom of her little flower shop, snipping off stalks and tying pretty bows around pretty bouquets. He wishes he could keep her back there forever—put a lock on the door and come only to smother her in kisses and gorge himself on every inch of her—but there’s a whole wide world demanding his attention. 
“Aye, hen, never a lass as cute and sweet as ye,” he crows, ducking a hand that punches through the sleeve of her jacket in his direction. 
In the car, he drops the facade. Loses his teasing edge. It’s a violent removal, like jolting awake to the sound of someone sawing away at a catalytic converter. If his smile is saccharine, it’s really only a smokescreen concealing the apprehension bubbling away in his belly. 
He drums his fingers on the steering wheel on the drive back to base. Heart in his throat, choking his words and rendering him quiet for once in his life. He hears Ghost’s voice in his head, a low rumbling laugh, tectonic plates shifting beneath his feet. These days, his voice acts as a lodestar, the thing steering Johnny home. 
Months ago, it was the only thing between him and annihilation, the ice cold maelstrom dragging him deeper into its maw. Guiding him through the valley of death. The wound in his arm still aches in the first light of day. His sleep is still wracked by dreams of running down alleys and ducking into houses, the rain pattering against the window panes ominous, a ticking clock, each step having to be precise, calculated, each movement quieter than quiet, fading into the shadows, a cool heart and mind bested by agony from the bulletwound in his shoulder.
And then—Ghost’s voice, low and soothing in his ear, shattering the pain. Ghost’s voice in his ear telling him where to go, how to survive. 
It’s hard to explain. Johnny’s tried. It’s like talking in circles when he opens his mouth and tries to get it out. I trust him with everything in me. He could do anything to me, anything. 
He is no less capable, no less competent. His rank demands respect, and he takes what’s due to him. Since Las Almas, he’s worked across a medley of other teams, even solo a time or two. It changes nothing. He still wakes in a sweat, chasing that voice. It takes him back into the real world. The days burn into the fringes of a memory that he is always living.
“Should I know anyone’s name before we get there?”
Her voice breaks through the noise in his head this time. It’s every bit as precious. 
“What d’ye mean, hen?” he asks, clucking his tongue. Sweats a bit when he realizes how far down the motorway they are now, how long it’s been since he checked out, lost in his thoughts. One hand rests loose on her leg, fingers spread wide and thumb gliding up and down her outer thigh, the other still holding the wheel. 
The pinched look has mostly fallen off from her face, but there’s still a tremble in her lower lip when she says, “Well, I don’t know any of your friends. I wouldn’t introduce you to my friends without telling you their names first.”
“No’ my friends, hen—we’re coworkers.”
She looks over at him from the corner of her eye. “I’m friends with my coworkers.”
Johnny shrugs. “It’s no’ the same with guys. Couldnae tell you fuck all about any of them except their names, to be honest.”
“Oh, don’t give me that—you’re not friends with a single one of them? No one?”
No hunger without resistance. His mouth goes bone dry. He’d be wise to learn that. 
He swallows. “Maybe a few.”
No transaction without accountability. Ghost saves his life and now Johnny has to pay that debt back tenfold. Sinking into the crease of Simon’s voice late at night, clutching it to his chest. Breathing it out. Maybe they are friends. 
He’s a bit show-offy at the base gates, dangling his ID card out the window pinched between two fingers. The civilian guard on duty just waves him on, scanning it only for the sake of the logs. His tires spin in the dirt when he guns it down the stretch of road leading into the base, windows still all the way down. Her hair whips around in the wind until she gathers it all up in her fist and shrieks at him to roll the windows up. 
Johnny enjoys showing off. That’s a core aspect of who he is, his charm. Braggadocious, confident in the way he looks, his physical prowess, his lot in life—so why would that change with his girl? He holds her close with an arm around her waist when he drags her through the rec centre, the building closest to where they parked. 
He gets lost in conversation for longer than expected. Pure gloating about the girl he’s managed to bag. Cooing in her ear when he feels her get a bit uneasy, still timid around the other guys despite having him at her side. He supposes that’s fair. She’s more comfortable around the women on base, a bit freer with her greeting and questions, but there’s still a pinch in her brow that never smooths all the way over.
It takes a while to find anyone that he knows. There are plenty of sergeants and corporals that he’s worked with before, familiar faces and names, but Johnny still glances around the room while they make light conversation with his girl, searching. Looking for something familiar, something that’ll reel him in, make him perk up like a dog catching a scent. 
They cross Gaz in a random hallway on the way to the comm centre, hardly recognizable at first with the darker stubble of his beard grown out. He must’ve just come back from wherever he’d been shipped off to the month previous, no time to shave or clean up. He even smells of old sweat when Johnny leans in for a hug. 
“Is this—?” Gaz glances over at her just once while the question dangles in the air. He looks back over at Johnny. 
They lock eyes. A silent exchange of meaning. 
“Aye,” Johnny nods, steering her in front of him with both hands on her shoulders, showing his girl off like a kid with a new toy. Eyes glinting like, don’t say a word. “Brought her in to meet everyone.”
A molasses slow smile spreads across Gaz’s face. It’s clear why men like him always get the girl. Johnny’s hands tighten on her shoulders. “Nice to meet you—thought John would hide you away forever.”
She glances up at him through her lashes. “You talked about me?”
Gaz shakes his head. “Not as much as you’d think. Took Ghost ages to get it out of him.”
Johnny flushes. “Did no’. Jus’ ‘cause I don’ blab about everything under the fuckin’ sun doesnae mean—”
“John says you’re a florist,” Gaz interrupts, turning the conversation back to her. Her lips split up into a mischievous little grin, delighted at the turnabout, probably delighted at seeing Johnny stumble over his words.
Something about her teasing grin gets his dick hard. More points to the rapidly disintegrating belief that he doesn’t have a humiliation kink. He leans forward, pressing it into her ass, delighted himself when she shoots him a dirty look over her shoulder but doesn’t pull away. 
“So, where’s everybody?” Johnny asks casually, trying not to make it too obvious who he’s referring to. The look Gaz gives him is unimpressed. He keeps running into that brick wall, his thoughts written out on his forehead, obvious to everyone around him. 
“Everyone?” Gaz repeats sceptically. 
“Aye.” His voice is tight, warning. “Everyone.”
“Ghost’s actually on his way here now, I think. We got called over to HQ—s’where I was headed, actually.”
“I dinnae say anything about Ghost, now did I—,” Johnny grumbles, but the words dissolve in his mouth when the man in question comes into the room. 
Sometimes, Johnny has the pleasure of seeing Ghost round a corner. The split second pleasure of being the observer, of dragging his eyes up and over, his chest bursting with a light like dawn cresting behind mountains and splitting the sky. In the field, he’s often deprived of that; becomes used to experiencing the phenomenon of Ghost melting out of the shadows, sometimes scaring the daylights out of him. 
It’s what happens now though. Glancing up on a whim only to see a man round the corner of the hallway leading out of the rec centre, shirt stretched out maddeningly over his arms and chest, muscles bulging like he just came from the gym, still pumped. The shirt’s a little threadbare, something old and worn, and Johnny’s seen it a million and a half times he figures; it leaves so little to the imagination that he’s joked about Ghost busting it at the seams from time to time, only to be met with a steady, aloof stare. 
There’s something to be said about how he’s drawn to people who refuse to scratch him behind the ears until he’s more than proven himself. He works tirelessly for Ghost’s approval, for his girl’s approval. Dogs with their bones, tigers with their stripes. 
He has a balaclava pulled over his face, just a simple black one this time, the underside of his eyes darkened by eyeblack hastily scrubbed off the night before, probably. His eyes scan the crowd, locking on Johnny and Gaz almost instantly. It’s the mark of a good soldier—he doesn’t flounder in the dark. Always finds his target, like a sixth sense for knowing when he’s being watched. 
Ghost course-corrects upon noticing them, crossing the room in a handful of seconds. The curt, “Johnny,” he gets is a bounty, a treasure. He grins back when Ghost glances down at the girl at his side. “That your bird?” 
“Told ye I’d bring her in—s’long as everyone’s on their best behaviour, of course.”
Gaz snorts. “Good luck with that.”
Ghost must cock an eyebrow because he can see the fabric of his mask shift. “Pretty.”
He can’t help the way he preens at that. Tucked away by his side again, Johnny can feel his girl squirm, but he pays it no mind. She’s shy—he’s known that from day one, from the first time she stumbled out from the back of the flower shop and scrunched her nose up at his attempts at flirting. 
Admiration is a smooth, buttery feeling. It keeps him aloft while another couple of servicemen take interest in their conversation and come over, Johnny’s girl at the centre of everyone’s attention. He’d be pricklier about it if he didn’t have a firm hand on her waist, keeping her pressed to his side. 
He soaks up the attention. Drinks it up when someone asks his girl a question and Johnny answers for her or pinches her cheek when she manages to pipe up before him. He knows he’ll get read the riot act when he takes her back home later, but he might be able to convince her to ride him while berating him for talking over her. Might beg her to slap him and spit in his mouth—say it’s the only way he’ll learn his lesson.
Dirty dog.
It strikes him that maybe he’s picked up some bad habits in recent months. He’s never been one to overthink, to worry and fret. Yet, he toils in it now, shovels coals into the furnace of it and gives it life. 
His shoulders go slack, the tension finally ebbing out of him. No longer dogged by the incessant fear that his girl is going to run away, bolt at the first loud noise, or that someone’s going to pluck her up out of his arms. She seems comfortable if anything. 
He’s been overthinking all of this, wrapped up in his head. He can breathe out, unclench. 
When Ghost shifts to stand closer to them, he glances over because that’s where his gaze always goes these days. Seeking Ghost out, finding him in a crowd; looking for his North Star wherever he is, wherever he goes. 
Only to watch in mute horror as, in plain sight, not trying to be discreet or hide it from anyone, Ghost gropes his girlfriend’s ass in front of everyone on base. Just reaches out a big hand and fondles her ass, digging his fingers into the cheek. She freezes, back ramrod straight as she stares ahead, eyes going a bit blank. 
He fails whatever test this is, mouth too dry for any words to come out. Humiliation burns him from the inside out. Another sergeant that he’s worked with before frowns, glancing over at Johnny. Neither of them say a word. 
Ghost tilts his head, staring down at his hand on her ass like he’s contemplating its plushness. Admiring it. With how Johnny stands on one side and Ghost the other, the two of them bracket her, like the soft centre of their trio; nowhere for her to go, a handler on either side. That’s wrong though. Ghost is not her handler—Johnny hardly is, more of a self-appointed one. 
Still he—
He lets it happen.
Contention dies a bloody death in his mouth, massacred. Mangled. He lets Ghost sink his fingers into his girlfriend’s backside and hum a little under his breath before finally pulling his hand away. The others look at him, waiting for Johnny’s reaction with bated breath. A reaction that never comes because it gets strangled in Johnny’s throat. 
“Nice meeting the bird,” Ghost finally says, voice a decibel lower, rough enough to scrape. “Gaz and I’ve got shit to do now. Be ready on the tarmac by oh-seven-hundred tomorrow, Johnny.” 
He grips Johnny by the shoulder before heading off, like he didn’t just grope Johnny’s girlfriend. Like he didn’t just reach down and grab a handful of her ass like it was his to feel up. And Johnny just nods. A placid, docile thing under Ghost’s hand, bobbing his head like a doll. 
Then Ghost leaves, Gaz trailing after him, looking back about a half dozen times to see if Johnny will suddenly follow them until he’s forced to job to catch up to Ghost, the man already yards away, longer legs carrying him fast out of the building. 
They don’t talk on the drive back to her apartment, the inside of the car tense and uncertain. Johnny walks her to the door when he lets her off, but it’s a formality, a chaste kiss at the door instead of the rough fuck that he’d envisioned to send her off. Despite the hard set of her jaw, she doesn’t lambast him like Johnny expected. The silence is worse though, haunting when she shuts the door in his face. 
The drive back to base after the drop off is agonizing in a whole new way. Still pent up, cock heavy in his pants, and fingers drumming over the steering wheel twice as fast now. What do I do, what do I do, what do I do? What he wants to do is turn around at the closest gap between both sides of the motorway and speed all the way back, knock on her door until his knuckles blister and bleed, until she opens the door and lets him in, lets Johnny push her to the floor in the entryway and spread her legs, welcoming him in. 
Until she lets him fit his fingers into the marks left behind by Ghost’s hand. 
Cold fire rising up off his bones, and then something hot. And wet. 
The next day at breakfast in the mess, one of the guys says something like, “If Ghost was into my girl, that’s the last you’d see of me and her,” and his mind goes blank and he goes over the table.
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brewed-pangolin · 5 months
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Drabble request for Super Soap Sunday:
Soap and you find yourselves in an unusual place/set of circumstances when the mood strikes. How does he A) let you know what he wants and B) how does he get you in the mood too?
Domestic Bliss
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Johnny 'Soap' MacTavish x Fem Reader
Warnings: 18+ MDNI: Explicit smut, some fingering, P in V, backseat sex, slightly Dom-ish Soap, tons of dirty banter, Soap being a needy little horn dog
This 'drabble' turned into a one-shot because I can't control myself.
Synopsis: You and Soap take the next step in your relationship, and his not so subtle attempt to rile you up in public ends with an impromptu session in the parking lot.
Reference for where this man takes you to Poundtown here
Word count: 2k
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"Alright, ma'am. If I can just you to sign here, here, and here. Then we should be all set up." Your advisor instructed as you sifted through yet another mountain of paperwork. Your eyes growing numb and your fingers beginning to ache from the repeated minor motion of signing your life away.
You pushed the last pile of paperwork over the advisors desk with gentle smile curling into your lips. Glancing over at the man sitting next to you with that same smile, a loving fondness in your eyes as you both took the next pivotal step in your relationship.
A mortgage.
Soap's demeanor was calm. Stoic even. Letting you take the lead in this circumstance as you were the one going to habitate the home more often than he would. A thought you both pushed aside for now to savor the wave of domestic bliss that came along after you signed the final piece of paperwork.
Yet his cool facade couldn't hide the cerulean maelstrom swirling within the whites of his eyes. A look you knew all too well, and one that never failed to send a quick shiver down your spine.
But here? At the bank?
Your smile quickly curled into a smirk, rolling your eyes at him as you turned your attention back to the advisor across the desk. You couldn't feed into Soap's growing needy desires. Not in public at least.
Pursing your lips with a heavy sigh, you tried to maintain your composure by focusing on the task at hand. Eyes trained to the quick movements of fingers across the keyboard as your consultant effortlessly entered your information into the database.
However, even the light clicking of keys couldn't keep your attention as you caught the sudden tremor of his knee in the lower periphery of your vision. The frantic cadence of his boot heel hitting the floor tearing at your concentration yet again, forcing you the bring the knuckles of your right hand up to your mouth to hide the apparent grin quickly forming on your lips.
With as subtle movement as possible, you placed your left hand on the top of his knee to quell his growing feverish motion. Gripping your fingers into the fabric of his jeans and pushing towards the floor in a physical attempt to ease his obviously heightening arousal.
“Ookay. That’s done. Let me get this all printed out and you two should be all set.” 
“Thank you, sir. Appreciate all your help with this.”
You share a quick glance with your advisor as he stands, his eyes momentarily shifting to Soap with a subtle curl in the corner of his mouth. You keep a close eye on him as he exits the office, finally turning to face Soap with a furrowed brow and address the apparent tension erupting between you two.
“Jesus Christ, Johnny. Would you please calm down?” You scolded playfully. Your lips a thin line of a smile, obscuring your clenched teeth as you dug your fingers further into his jeans.
“How much fuckin’ longer is this gonna take, bonnie? ‘Cause I'm 'bout to bend ya over this goddamn desk if he don't speed this shit up. He can bloody watch for all I care.” 
"We're almost done, Johnny. He just needs to give us the paperwork, and then we can go. So just, keep it in your pants for another five fuckin' minutes."
Your tone of reprimand barely able to combat the deep, rumbling brogue in his voice. Shifting slightly in your seat to quell the growing ache pulsing within your core. A gesture that most certainly did not go unnoticed as you took in the hungry blaze radiating within his eyes.
"Johnny. Don't. No!" Your frivolous attempt to stop him was broken down immediately as he thrusted his hand between your legs. Pressing his knuckles into the base of your heat through your jeans. Shifting to bring his chair closer and caress his mouth and tease you with his whispering brogue to the nape of your neck.
"Gonna fuckin' wreck ya, bonnie. Forget th'mortgage. This my down payment fer tha sweet pussy a'yers."
"Goddamit, MacTavish. Not here, ya fuckin' horn dog."
"Horn dog?" He questions with that distinctly mischievous grin. Pulling away as he eyed your advisor walking back into the office. His calmness in complete contrast to the excited flush bellowing from your chest as you quickly swat his hand away, scolding him quietly under your breath.
"Overconfident bastard."
"Alright. You two are all set up. You should be getting a call within the next five business days once you qualify. Other than that, welcome to home ownership."
"Thank you." You shook your advisor's hand, grabbed at your paperwork, and made an immediate bee line for the door. Beating Soap at his own game as you left him in the office with an obvious growing hard on. Already midway to the exit of the bank when you eyed him barreling out of the office in your periphery.
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You didn't want to lose focus again. Not now. Now when you had the upper hand. You Kept your eyes locked onto the 4Runner at the back of the parking lot as your feet moved quickly at their own accord. Your ears perking to the sound of its alarm, a wave of triumph rolling over you as the locks sprung free.
You opened the backseat passenger door to toss your purse and paperwork on the seat. Expecting to see Soap at the driver side as you tried to close the door.
Tried.
You glanced questioningly at the door. Only then did you notice Soap's hand gripping on the edge. Spinning on your heels as you came face to face with a fiery blaze and a hungry look in his eyes.
"John?"
"Get in."
"John?!"
"GET IN!"
You felt his hands on your hips the moment his voice registered within your mind. Thrusting you into the back seat, an excitedly victorious giggle escaping your chest as he crawled in before slamming the door behind him.
"Yer such a fuckin' lit'le minx, y'know that? Leavin' me th're wit a full bloody stonner." He growled, pulling your shoes off and tossing them to the side, frantically moving to the front of your jeans as you continued to laugh in triumph at his feverish need.
"Makin' me do the goddamn walk o' shame and...why are these fuckin' buttons so goddamn small?!"
"Ooohhh, what happened to that cool confidence, Soap? Thought you could handle yourself under pressure. Bein' a demolitions expert an' all."
"Yer pushin' it, lass." He spat back. Relinquishing the fight with the buttons in favor of simply tearing your jeans off.
"M'also not tryin'a fuck tha bombs, smartass."
Soap tossed your garments to the back, flaring his nostrils with a darkened veil in his eyes as he spread your legs to take in the sight of your silken arousal. Moving onto his haunches with a deep inhale, his eyes rolling back as he took in the scent of your growing excitement.
“Mhmm. Could smell tha’ sweet pussy in th’re. An’ ya already so fuckin’ wet fer me, aren’t ya, bonnie?”
Words escaped you as he pushed two of his fingers inside your soaking heat, your eyes fluttering closed as he slowly pumped up to his knuckle, teasingly preparing you for what was to come. Unable to restrain your body’s reaction as your walls reflexively clenched around him.
“Donnae think I didn’t feel tha’. I know what ya need, lass. An’ m’gonna give it to ya.” Soap lured to you with a husky purr, your eyes fluttering open in response to take in the sight of him stroking himself through his jeans. His steely blue gaze boring into your soul as he effortlessly worked at the buckle of his belt. A throaty growl reverberating within him as he teasingly pushed the waist of his jeans below his hips to expose his painfully hardened cock.
"Johnny, I-" Your pleasured whimper was cut short as he throw his muscular frame on top of you, sealing his mouth over yours in a wet and desperately needy kiss. His strong hands gripping into the flesh of your thighs, guiding them around his waist as he teasingly pushed his throbbing erection into your moistened cunt. Filling you to the brim in one fluid thrust.
"Th's s'my home, bonnie. Right 'ere. B'tween yer legs an' deep in th's beautiful fuckin' pussy a 'yers."
Soap didn't give you time or air to respond as he encapsulated your mouth once more and immediately began pistoning himself into your core. The force of his thrusts wiping whatever thoughts and words out your mind, only focusing on the feel of him as he caged you against the backseat with his arms bent on either side of your head.
"Steamin' hell yer tight, lass." Soap growled into your lips, pressing his chest down into yours, keeping you still and allowing him full reign to pound his hardened length into your heat.
His bulbous tip kissing the flesh of your cervix with each forward thrust before pulling out almost entirely to only throw himself back into you once more. The continuous motion forcing your back to arch off the backseat, pushing your pelvis into his to stimulate the sensitive flesh of your clit.
Soap pulled his mouth away in repsonse to your shifting position, leaning forward to press his forehead into the crook of your neck. His hot breath cascading down your skin as he grunted and moaned with every subsequent thrust, his relentless pounding forcing you to grip into his shoulders to keep yourself stable beneath him.
"Johnny...Johnny..." you whispered softly against his temple. His name the only coherent word you could manage to let fall from your lips as your mind and body fell into the depths of his desperate and needy pleasure.
"Jus'...lemme 'ave th's, bonnie."
"Only g'nna need...an'ther minute.."
Soap's gasping breaths washed over the flesh of your neck, his voice rumbling within his throat like an otherworldly mixture of a growling whimper.
And the moment you felt his hips begin to falter, you pushed aisde your own pleasure in favor of reaching his. Only focusing on him. His needs. His desperate compulsion to always need to fill you and mark you as his own.
"C'mon, bonnie. Come for me."
You responded to his grunting demand by simply pressing your lips to the flesh of his temple. Wrapping your arms and legs around him tightly, letting him vigorously thrust his throbbing cock into your cunt until you felt the warmth of his release erupt deep inside you.
Soap's movements then halted all together. Burying himself into your heat as he rode out the relentless pulses of his climax.
Even within this impromptu moment, with him panting against your neck and you hunched beneath him in the backseat, there was always a certain level of intimacy that seemed to meld between you in the bliss of the afterglow. Cradling him in your arms as he slumped over in a limp and gasping mess.
"Fuckin hell, bonnie." He whispered, softly panting against your neck as he lightly pursed his lips against your neck.
"Jesus, Johnny. If I knew home ownership got ya this worked up, I'd it done years ago."
"Shut it, lass."
"Can't wait to see how hard ya get when I do my taxes."
Soap remained silent to your playful banter, responding only by continuing to kiss the curve of your neck as his body trembled, slowly coming down from the high of his release.
His mouth gently curled into a smile as he placed a series of gentle kisses up the nape of your neck. Chiding in once more to your jesting, his distinctive brogue thicker and more hoarse as he purred against your flesh.
"Won't 'ave ta, hen. Unless yer 'nta doin' a threesome."
"What?" You questioned, pulling him out of your neck to meet his steely blue gaze with a coitish smile.
"Uncle Sam already fucks ya in the ass, bonnie. It's the only time I'm yer designated sloppy side piece."
You can't hide the smile that emerged over your lips, pushing a piece of sweat ridden hair out of his eyes as you lovingly gaze up at him.
"Then I guess I'll be needing another down payment in advance. Just for good measure."
And of course, Soap obliges. Thrusting his still hardened cock deep into your core as he mutters those two words you love to hear.
"Yes, ma'am."
4Runner Wingman Masterlist
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@deadbranch @sofasoap @d3athtr4psworld @punishmepunisher @jynxmirage @obligatoryghoststare @mykneeshurt @glitterypirateduck @homicidal-slvt @shotmrmiller @astraluminaaa @kkaaaagt @havoc973 @writeforfandoms @luismickydees
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peachesofteal · 4 months
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Mother Peaches you. You are BLESSING us with content. And I am an ungrateful heathen stepping into your home to throw out a thought that if you by chance were stumped on something to write or wanted to throw a scrap out into the void as a warm up writing piece or cool down or whatever the writer equivalent is. May I propose the idea of Simon and Johnny boy taking care of darling when she has a cold? The sniffles, if you will. For I fear that I am on deaths doorstep and this cold will actually take me out. My dying wish, if you please, dear peach. May those two beefy boys take me to the gates of heaven.
Here is some comfort and fluff for everyone before Chapter 11 goes up. Consider it a gift. Hope you recovered well, dear anon! Ghost/Soap/female reader - Dead Disco verse Warnings-tags: sickfic, loss of consciousness, hospitals.
"Ye're sleepy this morning." Johnny hums, palm smoothing over your forehead. "Ye feelin' okay?" A yawn stretches your lips wide, and you shrug.
"Yeah, just tired." Your head hurts a little, an ache reverberating behind your skull, spreading out from your eyes to your ears, so you bury your face in his chest, breathing in the scent of his skin. "Don't wanna get up."
"Well, ye dinnae have to. But I thought we could have breakfast while we wait for Si." He murmurs. You blink up at him, sight a little bleary, and he frowns, brow wrinkled in concern. "Darling?"
"Yeah, breakfast is fine. Good." your lips smack, dry. Crusted. You snuggle closer, chilled, and Johnny wraps his arms around you, rubbing a palm down your back.
"Are ye sure ye're feeling alright?"
"Mhmm."
"Breakfast in bed, then?" The proposal carries weight, memories, of past meals in bed, ones that ended with you being the meal instead of whatever Johnny whipped up, but instead of it exciting you, you relent to your weariness, sinking back into the sheets with a sigh. Johnny kisses you, sweet lips on your brow. "Go back to sleep, love. I'll bring you something in a bit." And well, who can say no to that?
You wake some time later to the bed shifting, blankets being moved. The air is heavy, thick with heat even though you're freezing, the throbbing in your skull much worse than it was before.
"Darling?" It's Simon. He's in bed beside you, trying to peel you free from the pile of blankets. You open your mouth to respond, but instead of words, a dry heave wells in your chest, rough, sputtering cough wracking your body. "Fuck, okay. I've got you, c'mon. Up we go." He heaves you into his arms, supporting your weight, back to his chest, your breathing labored.
"She's gotten worse." Johnny grimaces, thumb stroking your temple. "Didnae have a cough this morning." This morning?
"What time is it?" You croak.
"It's nearly twelve." Twelve? You've slept the whole morning. You fidget, trying to shift off the bed, but Simon stills you with an arm across your chest, palm flat over your heart.
"Jus' take it easy. You're not going anywhere."
"I slept the whole morning." You protest, but let them lay you back, settling you against the pillows.
"You're sick, darling. You're running a fever, and I don't like the sound of that cough." You shake your head, trying to protest, but when you take a breath, it gets stuck in your chest, and your eyes widen when your lungs heave. "Alright, you're alright." Simon soothes, voice low in your ear. "Just breathe, that's it." Once the bout finishes, he resettles you, and then trades places with Johnny, tucking him in alongside your body, working the blankets in around you both.
"Simon's goin' get ye some tea, and I'm goin' hold ye for a while."
"We had plans today." You moan, and he clucks.
"We can reschedule. Ye're what's important." Blue eyes full of worry watch you, and his brow crumples. "Ach, poor darling girl. I'm sorry ye're feeling so bad." He's so sweet, so kind. So loving, even when you're sick as death, it still makes you feel so warm and tingly, all through your body.
"Love you." You whisper, and he holds you close, nose in your hair.
"Love ye too."
Everything is dark. You feel like you're swimming in a murky pool, blackened, sticky tar that weighs you down, your arms and legs trying to fight to propel you up to the surface for air, working to break through so you can breathe.
In the water, in the deep, someone calls your name. Someone yells it, shouts it, and you try opening your eyes in response, to no avail. I'm here, you want to scream. I'm right here. Your body shakes, like you're being dragged, tossed around like a doll, and you try to speak, use your voice again. Nothing comes, and the dark swallows you whole, filling your mouth and nose with it's pitch black water, pushing you beneath it's swell once more.
The next time you wake, you're not in the bedroom. The ceiling is white, world too bright. There's something on your face, in your arm, and you whine at the feeling, skin pulling taut beneath tape.
"Hey, hey. You're alright." It's Simon, Simon's voice around you, pulling you closer, and your vision focuses, to see the two very concerned, very frantic faces of your boyfriends hovering over you.
"There she is." Johnny breathes.
"What..." You look around. This is a hospital. Why are you in the hospital? "What happened?" Just being in a place like this makes you anxious, sends your pulse rate higher, and they both glance up at the sound of the hurried beeping coming from the monitor.
"Ye're okay. It's alright, darling. Take a deep breath."
"We couldn't wake you up." Simon explains from your right, sitting back in a chair that's been pulled to the side of the bed. He clutches your hand, kissing your knuckles. "You were wheezing and it-" He stops abruptly, swallowing. He looks scared, you realize, and when you look at Johnny's face, you see it too. The fear. The worry.
"Ye sounded like ye were in pain." Johnny says. "We called for an ambulance and brought ye here."
"Am... am I okay?" You whisper, and they both smile, gently. Sweetly.
"You're okay, darling. You're going to be fine. You're on a strong course of antibiotics and we're going to take you home tomorrow." Simon assures, still holding onto your hand. Johnny perches on the bed by your hip, leaning over to kiss you, lips on your cheek for a lingering second.
"They said we can stay with ye tonight." He gestures to the little pull out bed by the window, and a recliner that has a pillow and blankets stacked on it. "Hospital sleepover. We're all goin' eat jello." He thumbs your cheek, and you both smile, eyes wandering to where Simon sits like stone, severe expression on his face. "She's alright, Si. See?" Johnny murmurs, and he nods.
"I know." He clears his throat. "I know she is." You squeeze his hand.
"Everything's goin' be alright." Johnny continues, and Simon's eyes shudder for a second, slipping shut when he takes a deep breath. When he opens them, he looks calmer, more steadfast, and you smile at him.
"How about that jello, then?"
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zvdvdlvr · 11 months
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Hi there, friend . Please write if you have time a Soap, Ghost, Price, Alejandro, and Konig headcanons about a male partner with really big veiny hands.Hope you have a pleasent day or night .
- 141, alejandro, and könig with a male partner with large hands
☆ - warnings :: some nsfw topics, coarse language, neck snapping, features sub!könig, usual call of duty violence, male reader, short HCs,
☆ - characters :: john "soap" mactavish, simon "ghost" riley, captain john "bravo six" price, alejandro vargas, könig
☆ - k.j.'s diary says... i haven't written for CoD that much so i apologize for any inaccuracies or any out of character-ness.
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kyle "gaz" garrick
SLUT ME OUT, SLUT ME OUT, SLUT-SLUT-SLUT ME OUT
bro was flabberghasted when he saw you gloveless- like, yes, he knows your hands are huge because of how easily you handle massive weapons but god almighty kyle almost started drooling when he saw you flex your hand while stretching your arm
silently admires the way you move in battle, your melee attacks, hand-to-hand, etc.
when you are dating, gaz for sure hints at his attraction to your hands if that wasn't obvious
gets turned on when you pin him to the ground while sparring and it shows
goes off on tangents about your hands when drunk
"they just- *hiccup* -they look so good, y'know? they'd look really nice around my ne-neck" (bro was passed out not even half an hour after saying this)
simon "ghost" riley
encourages you to snap someone's neck while out on the field
"christ, y/l/n" ghost (the first time he saw you do that
was drinking tea the first time he got a hood look at your bare hands
needless to say, tea was spilled in simon's lap
when you're together simon would come up with all these bullshit reasons to see your bare hands
not really into being choked, but would love watching you choke someone out
would ask you if you could choke-slam people
the answer was yes
simon loves being flipped off by you idk he thinks its hot
i like to think that while off duty simon can be a little bitch sometimes so whenever he turns around to go sulk he LOVES when you grab onto his belt loop or whatever and turn his ass around
captain john "bravo six" price
tried to keep his cool
also kept really quiet about his feelings
like
quiet.
loves holding your hand when off duty
so let's say price is the typa guy to enjoy back hugs? even better when he looks down to see your hands wrapped around his middle
has you demonstrate ways to snap/break necks to the newbies while watching with absolute adoration
did i mention price loves hand holding? i did? ok well just reminding you
u dont have to have big hands to know john loves kissing you with one of your hands in his hair and another tugging his belt loop so he's closer to you. hawt.
john "soap" mactavish
smiles widely while watching you snap someone's neck like it's nothing
doesn't even care if you choke him out if you did at least it's by your hands
choking kink question mark exclamation point
loves getting neck/upper back massages (non sexually you pervs) especially after a long day
a true simp.
will praise you till the end of time no matter how many war crimes you commit on the field
johnny likes when you help him trim/maintain his hair
it's such an intimate thing for him and the fact that you're helping take care of something so personal to johnny makes his heart swell
alejandro vargas.
will absolutely bring attention to the fact that your hands are massive
wolf whistles, even.
alejandro thinks it's the greatest thing ever making you flush
absolutely gushes to rudy about it
ok so now ur in a relationship:
ONE TIME alejandro was getting a bit too big for his britches so you stalked up to him and grasped his neck lightly. (if ur taller than him is what im imagining but wtv) ale was turned on
always wants to be touching you or you touching him
when he has free time he'll come find you, cuddle, play with your fingers while tou watch a movie or something
thinks about you jerking him off when you're both in a meeting or in a semi-public space
practically sings praises about how he loveloveloves your hands
könig
ok if your hands are larger than his than yes bro would pass tf out when he realized
would be very quiet about his attraction to your hands but his obvious staring spoke volumes
would immediately want to be slutted out when you had sex with him
plays with your hands when he's bored or really anxious
REALLY into you holding him by his neck and showing you how much he wants to be taken care of
loves when you tend to any sore muscles or wounds
honestly könig wants a simple, domestic life with all of the things hes seen
HAND HOLDING IS A MUST‼
watches you disassemble, clean, and reassemble guns like you didn't have ur fingers in his mouth the night before with a lopsided smile
you both spar together, learning from each other and being the duo that no other trio or group want to fight
together, you both are unstoppable. the admiration and personal connection you both have baffles many
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mattslolita · 27 days
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my goodies - m. sturniolo
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in which ... a girl who was once jaded at a halloween party endures in a night of fun when she meets the cute guy with the vampire teeth — and he gives her a night of memories. matt x black!fem reader
warnings ; smut , unprotected piv ( wrap it bitches! ) , oral ( female receiving )
"𝒊 𝒃𝒆𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒈𝒐𝒐𝒅𝒊𝒆𝒔, 𝒃𝒆𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒊𝒕."
˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰
"girl, this party better be worth it," you say, crossing her arms across your chest as you step out the uber with your friend jaycee.
"girl, it will be!" jaycee grinned encouragingly, as she hooked her arm with yours. "tara invited us both, by the way."
"oh, word?" you say, a smirk on your face, "haven't seen my girl in a minute, i miss her!"
"she invited a lot of her friends, maybe you might make some new ones too girl!" jaycee tells you happily, as you both make your way towards the venue.
skeletons, zombies, fake webs and all kinds of halloween decorations littered the venue as you looked around, taking in the sight — you came dressed as a cheerleader from euphoria, and you could feel the skirt lowkey riding up your ass, causing you to tug down on it a bit as you both walked arm in arm.
when you stepped inside, you were immediately greeted with the smell of alcohol and faintly weed which intoxicated your senses. you were glad those were provided, because you had forgotten to bring your own after getting ready.
your brown skin glowed in the dimly lit venue underneath all the lights, and just as you were getting a headache tara's smile could be seen as she was approaching you both.
"jaycee! y/n!" tara says excitedly and as she's moving closer you can smell the faint pink whitney while she reaches her arms out towards you, "i'm so glad you guys made it!"
"glad to be here boo, i haven't seen you in a cool minute!" you tell the shorter girl as you pull her in for a hug. "now tell me why my ass is already getting a headache?"
"nuh uh, you're not gonna do that, y/n!" jaycee said with a small glare.
"she's right, there's no way you're leaving!" tara added with a shake of her head. she held a cup up towards you and you took with raised eyebrows. "drink this and have fun, babe!"
with a sigh you took the cup from tara's hand and peer in it before tipping the cup up and downing it one go, shaking your head a bit from the burning sensation.
jaycee giggled at your reaction, as tara dragged you both over to meet some of her friends — everyone you had met was really nice to you, some guys even looking to flirt with you at one point. you met tara's ex boyfriend jake who you thought was funny as shit, and his best friend johnnie who was emo but hey — you liked emo boys.
jaycee had eventually got dragged away by a cute brunette boy who wanted to dance with her, so you stood where the drinks were at and refilled, looking around with a bored expression.
when you turned around to get another cup, you felt a smooth breeze whip by you as hands were on your waist, causing you to turn around.
"sorry about that," a cute brunette man says to you, his hands on your waist as he walks to the side of you.
"you good," you say to him.
immediately you notice how attractive he was, his eyes and cheekbones being the thing that captured you first. he grins down at you, causing you to bite your lip as you tilt your head at him.
"i saw you over here, you look bored," he whispered to you, leaning down to your ear as he played with the hem of your skirt.
"yeah?" you answered him with a playful grin, "well my home girl is dancing with some guy and i don't wanna dance anymore."
"i'm matt," he introduced himself.
"y/n."
you both look at each other for what feels like an eternity — he goes to gently grab your waist again and gently rubs his thumb back and forth on the fabric of your skirt causing a wetness to form on your core as you stared up at him.
"you lookin to have fun, sweetheart?" matt whispers in your ear, and you clench your legs in response to the action.
"fuck yes," you say back excitedly.
you quickly latch your hand onto his which he accepts gratefully, as you guide him through the crowd looking for an empty room — as you're passing both jaycee and tara catch a glimpse of you and jaycee grabs onto tara's waist and pretends to hit from behind as tara holds her hands and moves her butt on her, causing you to stick up your manicured middle finger at them in response.
finally reaching an empty room, matt almost shoves you inside and your back is immediately pressed against the door as he's pulled your neck to meet him in a heated, hungry kiss.
you instantly wrap your arms around his neck as both your tongues battle for dominance — matt's arms go down to hoist you up by your waist as his hands roughly latch onto your thighs.
"jump," he grunts, and you oblige, jumping into his arms and attacking his lips once more.
never breaking away from the greedy kiss, your lips entangle one another as matt turns and walks you towards the bed, laying you down on your back as he hovers over you.
"you know at first," he says, his hands rubbing up and down your sides as he places wet, open mouthed kisses to your neck, "i was thinking of how much i want my cock inside you."
"then i realized," he smirks, opening his mouth to reveal the pearly white vampire teeth he showcased — he ran his tongue over the sharp canines causing you to whimper as you pulled him down to lick over the teeth yourself.
"i need to taste you, angel."
another whimper escapes your mouth as you look up him at him with your doe eyes, causing his dick to twitch in his pants — he leaves more open mouthed kisses along your neck before signaling you to take off the top.
you discard it quickly along with your skirt, revealing your matching blue bra and lace panties, causing matt's mouth to salivate at the sight. "fuck, blue is my favorite color."
"you better not ruin it then, especially if you wanna see more of me," you grin at him with a wink, causing him to grip onto your thighs.
he's at the foot of the bed, and he brings your thighs up close to him — matt leaves slow, deliberate kisses along your thighs on both sides all whilst keeping eye contact with you. your core was now soaked beyond belief, all you wanted was for him to do something.
"matt p-please, i need you," you whine out, and he flashes you a taunting smile, those pointed teeth flashing in the dim moonlight.
"don't worry baby, i'm gonna take care of you," matt promises, his hands digging into your brown flesh softly.
he leans down in between your legs, his breath now fanning over your clothed pussy. he presses a kiss to your clothed core, causing a gasp to fall from your lips.
"p-please..."
in a matter of seconds, matt pulled your panties down your ankles and threw them somewhere in the room, getting level with your pussy again — like a starved man, his hands grip onto your thighs once more as his tongue attaches to your throbbing bud, sucking slowly while keeping eye contact with you.
"oh, fuck!" you whimper out, your back arching as you grip the sheets beneath you.
and that's all it takes for matt to dive in, his nose on your clit as he laps you up feverishly, his tongue greedily delving into your delectable taste.
"fuck angel, you taste so damn good," he grunts out, his hips rutting into the mattress as his erection is very prominent.
matt continues nipping and sucking at your clit, and you're pretty sure at one point you could feel him spell his name with his tongue judging from the movements of his mouth. you're a moaning and whimpering mess, your pussy clenching as you feel your orgasm approaching quickly.
"matt i'm close," you manage to breathe out, your back somehow arched even more for him.
"yeah? you gonna cum on my face, angel?" matt says, "come on baby, give it to me."
the tightness in your stomach finally snaps, and you release all over matt's face as you let out a high-pitched moan — he's quick to lap up all your juices, licking his lips with a satisfied grin.
he comes back up and crashes his lips back onto yours, and you moan at the taste of yourself on his tongue. matt pulls away quickly to discard his pants and boxers, his large cock finally free from its confines as its dripping with precum.
you salivate at the sight before you — he's fucking huge. you hoped he would fit.
matt strokes his tip along your cunt bathing his cock in your juices, causing you to both moan at the feeling before he inches himself inside you slowly.
"fuck," you both moan at the same time, your hands immediately finding their way to his back.
"you're so fucking tight, shit," matt grunts, fully pushing inside you and bottoming out.
without giving you time to adjust to his size, he begins slamming into you at a relentless pace, causing the headboards in the room to creak.
"fuck matt, fuck!" you scream out, your back arched as his cock hits your sweet spot deliciously.
"you feel so fucking good baby," he grunts out, interlacing his hand with yours as he continues fucking into you.
"right there, baby!" you moan out, looking up at him through your lashes at his fucked out expression, his silver horse chain dangling above you.
matt's eyebrows creased and he felt his orgasm approaching as he watched drool begin to form at the creases of your mouth, your eyes rolled into the back of your head.
"fucking you so good you're cock drunk, angel?" matt teases you, never letting up on his pace as he fucked you, "i'm gonna fuck my seed into you."
"y-yes matt, n-need it inside me," you blabbered out, your nails digging into his back, "m' so close..."
"fuck, i'm close too baby," matt moans, his thrusts becoming sloppy as he leans down to give you a open mouthed wet kiss, "cum for me, angel..."
with a pornographic moan of his name, for the second time your orgasm rippled through you as it spilled out of your pussy — soon after matt came, painting your walls white as he helped the both of you ride out your high.
he pulled out of you, but shoved two of his ringed fingers inside to keep his juices in there, grinning up at you as he did so.
"that was the best orgasm i've ever had," you breathed out as you fell beside each other.
"think you wanna let it happen more often?" matt asks you with a playful grin as he turns to look at you.
"definitely," you giggled, then your eyes widen and you shook your head. "fuck, i'm never gonna hear the end of it from jaycee and tara."
"good, you can let em know how good i fuck you," matt said, placing a kiss to your cheek as he gets up from the bed. "let me clean you up, angel."
💌 lil
AHHHH thank you all SAURRR much for 1.1k, i'm so grateful for each & every one of you 🫶 i love you all endlessly, & i'm so sorry this took long to publish😭
@muwapsturniolo @luverboychris @prettiest-poision @mattsturniolosleftnut @mrssturnioloo @guccifrog @thenickgirl @mattsivy ❤‍🩹
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bunnyreaper · 6 months
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𝖈𝖔𝖑𝖑𝖆𝖗𝖘 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖈𝖆𝖌𝖊𝖘 𝔞 𝔰𝔬𝔞𝔭 𝔪𝔞𝔠𝔱𝔞𝔳𝔦𝔰𝔥 𝔵 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔢𝔯 𝔰𝔢𝔯𝔦𝔢𝔰 𝖕𝖙 4 — 𝖕𝖙 3 𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖊 wc - 5.8k warnings - 18+/nsfw, dom/sub dynamic, hints of petplay notes - i blame barry for the delay, jk. anyway, sorry it took so long but i hope you enjoy! also on ao3! ♥
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You've officially reached the point of insanity, and there's no turning back. One date with Johnny, and you're practically doodling his name in a journal with hearts all around, or putting your name with his just to see how it sounds. 
Admittedly, you haven't done either of those things, but you did turn down another night out drinking this weekend on the off chance you end up having plans with Johnny—which might be just as insane, if not more. Especially since you hadn't brought up your intention with Johnny. 
You suppose there's no time like the present, so cuddled up on your couch, you bring up your messages to Johnny and start typing.
i miss you so much, even if it's only been a few days!! when can I see you again? 
Straight to the point—unbridled emotion that's honestly a little cringeworthy, but there's little point in pretending to be something you're not, especially when Johnny seems perfectly into it. 
You have to distract yourself for a little while, scrolling through various social media apps to occupy your mind as you wait for a response. It's not too long before your phone pings, and you're rushing to click the notification—each time his name pops up on your screen your stomach flips, and you always click onto the message far too eagerly. You wonder if he does the same.
Been thinking, and I did have an idea in mind, but now am overthinking.
That certainly piques your interest, as you speedily type back a response, almost demanding an answer. 
tell me!! 
You watch the screen as it tells you Johnny is typing, then nothing. Then typing again, then nothing. After a minute or so of stopping and starting, his picture fills the screen as his call waits for you—you pick up immediately.
"Hey, pet." He greets cheerfully—so much so that you can hear the smile in his voice. It's so much better now the image of it is burned in the back of your mind—it feels like the two of you never stopped smiling when you were together.
"Hi, Johnny!" You reply, just as enthused, despite it only being a day since you last spoke. "What's your idea?" 
Your insistence on hearing his idea makes him laugh.
"Straight to the point, lass. I was thinking that ya could come stay fer the weekend?" You detect a hint of hesitance in his voice, while your heart practically leaps at the prospect. 
A whole weekend with Johnny sounds like a dream—talking, cuddling, kissing... maybe more. You burn with need thinking about finally taking things to a more sexual level with Johnny. So far you've only teased each other, and even that has made you unbelievably needy—practically every conversation with him leaves you dripping and aching, leaves you yearning for relief that you can only get at Johnny's hands. 
Not only that, but maybe you'll get to explore more of your dynamic together—the thought of getting to submit to him sends you into a tailspin. You know it would come so easily, you know you'd slip under Johnny's command so easily were he to just take ahold of your metaphorical leash. 
You come to, realising you'd fallen completely silent instead of responding when Johnny speaks again—lighthearted yet hesitant.
 "... But it's okay if you don't want to—"
"I want to! On base?" You ask, already starting to unfurl the logistics in your head.
Johnny chuckles good-naturedly, seemingly amused by the idea of having you come over to his place on base. "Nah, I have a flat in Hereford."
"Oh, cool. I was a little scared for a moment." You admit, a hint of nervousness before you change tack. "But ooh, are you aiming to get laid this weekend? Bold move, Johnny." 
Admittedly, you're teasing and not offended by the assumption in the slightest, if anything, you know wholeheartedly that you want him. If you go on much longer with the level of teasing Johnny subjects you to without any relief, you may just combust. 
"You're the one making assumptions, needy girl." He teases right back, and then continues more earnestly. "I wasn't counting on it, jus' want to spend some quality time with you. Can't exactly cuddle up in a café."  
How he manages to balance wholesome and filthy so well you have no idea. Consistently, Johnny shows his depth and keeps you on your toes by making you flustered in every possible way. One moment you're blushing from desire, the next from his sweetness. 
"So... it's a sleepover, then?" You giggle as you snuggle closer to the couch cushions, already thrilled at the idea of spending time with Johnny in any way. 
Johnny laughs right along with you, launching back into joking. "I'll even paint your nails if ya want. Braid your hair, talk about boys, as long as the boy is me..." 
The hint of possessiveness makes your stomach do somersaults—despite the early stages of your relationship, your heart is set on Johnny, and it's reassuring to know he might be in just as deep. 
"You're the sweetest! Do you even know how to braid hair, though?" You try to imagine Johnny's large hands working with delicate strings of hair, as braiding is something you even struggle to do yourself.
"I have sisters and nieces. Taken part in many a makeover." He proudly admits, and you can feel the joy radiating off of him. No threat to his masculinity at all, just sheer enjoyment at being the subject of his niece's whims.
The image it conjures up is downright adorable.
You nod to yourself, storing that piece of information in the back of your mind for later. "I'll keep that in mind for when I need to dress up for a special occasion." 
The giggles are unavoidable as you picture big, bulky Johnny painting nails—you'd put good money on him being the kind to poke out his tongue when he concentrates.
Your thoughts start to drift to other plans for the weekend, other things you might get up to. Johnny was adamant that sex wasn't expected, but on your end, it's certainly still desired... at least in theory. 
There are still some residual nerves and worries, even with Johnny's constant sweetness—past events, past bad experiences lurk in the back of your mind waiting to sabotage the present. 
The need you feel almost overwhelms all of that though—the way Johnny just seems to speak to all the submissive parts of you, making you feel so desired and so safe.
"So... what if I want to have sex?" You ask, voice falling quiet as if admitting something forbidden—as if Johnny isn't going to do filthy things to you far beyond just sex. 
A throaty, strained groan leaves the man, his voice dropping low and dripping with desire. "Might have to have you stay longer, since you won't be walking after."
You suspect the idea of you struggling to walk isn't just bragging—if you close your eyes, you can almost see his length, remembering how good it felt even though thick denim jeans. 
"I— yeah, okay." The sigh that leaves you is instinctual, hot with anticipation.
"I've got condoms, but yer welcome to bring your own," Johnny mentions. "And I'll pick ya up Friday evening, drop you off Sunday night? How's that sound?" 
"Wonderful." You say honestly, loving that you'll get to spend the weekend with him, all while being cared for and driven there and back. "Ooh, I get to be your passenger princess." 
You giggle mischievously, playing it up for Johnny as your mind runs wild with ideas. 
"Don't be getting any ideas, lass." He chides, playfulness clear in his tone.
"Hey, I was just planning on taking over your radio and telling you fun stories. Nothing more!" Your voice rises through your protest, as before Johnny had turned it dirty, you really hadn't been thinking of the way your hands may drift to his thigh, or palm at his cock. 
"Not sure if I believe that. I felt the way you were squeezin' me under that table, yer a naughty girl." He purrs, making shivers run through you.
"You started it, not me." Your gasp is full of offence, proclaiming your complete innocence. Of course, you had wanted to feel him up way more than you did and had undoubtedly had a few very sinful thoughts while he was sitting next to you. 
But you had been good, had behaved, and kept your hands to yourself. It was Johnny who led you to sin.
"So, you won't be feeling me up unless I'm the one guiding you?" 
At that you fall silent, too stunned to speak—the thought of Johnny guiding you through pleasing him, guiding you into being perfect, just for him is overwhelming. He'll lead you deeper and deeper into submission—trust.
"Oh, you like the sound of that." Johnny's purr has you completely dead to rights, as once more, he sees right through you.
You take a few deep breaths, trying to settle your rapidly swirling arousal. "Of course I do..." 
Johnny doesn't relent in his teasing, in his almost cruel display of control of your desire. Everything from his word choice to the dominant edge in his voice sends you spiralling. "Want me to show you how to please me, puppy?" He coos. "Show you how tae be a good girl fer me?" 
"Please, sir." You feel your mind slip just a little—falling so easily into that blissful state just listening to Johnny's tone, finding it so easy to fall for him. 
"Won't have to show you much, you just know how to turn me on naturally, like it's instinct. Fuck, lassie." The guttural noise from Johnny shows the effect his own words have on him too. 
You hope he's squirming just like you are, achingly hard and straining against his jeans, just like he was in the café. 
The tension crackles in the air between you, the silence thick with your joint lust settling deep in your respective guts. 
You let out a shaky sigh before you respond. "It's only fair for us to be equal on that front since you just... I don't even have words. It's like you read my mind so you can drive me crazy." 
Johnny is undoubtedly insightful, likely an occupational thing, but sometimes it's scary how well he can read you. He's not the only one who naturally knows how to appeal to someone's baser desires.
For a moment, and quite unfairly as the logical side of your brain notes, your gut twists at the idea of how he became so well practised.
Johnny's sweet laugh pulls you from that train of thought. "Am a smart man, perceptive, what can I say? Know how to read ma pet."
"I'm not your pet." You note, not bitterly, but rather plainly. You're not Johnny's— 
"Not yet, aye, but you will be." He says with a sense of certainty. 
"Johnny..." You don't even know what to say to that, beyond begging and pleading for him to make it come true—but that hardly feels appropriate right now.
"Even if we don't have sex this weekend, I'd like to explore things with us a little, if tha's okay?" He asks, his voice open and inquisitive, almost shy in how quietly he poses the question.
"Me too, I don't wanna rush too much but holding back somehow feels...wrong." You sigh, wishing you had the words to really explain the pull you felt. "It's like I know I shouldn't be rushing head first into this, but... I can't stop it." 
Johnny is truly a magnetic force of a man, both in who he is and the way he treats you. There's so much about him that you can't wait to get to know, all the beauty and scars in equal measure, each story—the meaning of the waver behind his smile, the way he sounds first thing in the morning. 
"Me either, if it helps." He admits, sharing the sentiment. "It's okay to fall, just gotta be there tae catch each other, aye?" 
Your eyes flutter shut as you rip the phone away from your face, letting out a loud exhalation and a whispered "fuck". The warmth of his words and the weight of the meaning behind them overwhelming you, wrapping around you like a cosy blanket.
When you feel a little calmer, you return the phone to your ear to agree with Johnny's sentiment, though not quite as viscerally as you did in private.
"Yeah, just gotta keep each other straight." Your throat tightens as you push the words out. 
The silence on the line is overtaken by shuffling from Johnny's end for a moment before he clears his throat. "Gotta go, pet. Duty calls."
"It's... 8 pm, what are you doing at this hour?"
There's a laugh from Johnny, and a more insistent knocking in the background. "Going for a pint with the lads." 
"Oh duty, huh?" You tease. 
He hums in affirmation, unashamed. "Team bonding, essential stuff for the functional operation of any squad." 
"Have fun, Johnny." You wish him well sincerely, even if part of you wishes the call didn't have to end. "Talk soon."
"Talk soon, princess. Sleep well." He makes a kissing noise before ending the call, his photo disappearing off your screen before you lock the phone and clutch it to your chest just for a moment. 
'It's okay to fall, just gotta be there tae catch each other.'
His words echo through your mind over the coming days—the light in an otherwise dreary weak. 
You were definitely falling. 
————
Packing your bag feels like chaos, as you desperately scramble to not forget a single thing. You're only going for a weekend, and yet you're packing like you're bunkering down for the apocalypse. Well, a million pairs of underwear will be necessary with how Johnny ruins them just with his words and his voice—being there in person means you'll probably be going through a new pair every hour. 
And of course, you need cute extra outfits, in case the two of you go anywhere... that means extra shoes too. Johnny is going to think you're crazy with all the bags and belongings you're bringing. 
Thankfully, you got ready hours ago—did your makeup and hair to perfection and put on a pretty dress that you may have ordered just for Johnny. Okay, maybe you ordered several dresses just for Johnny.
As you rush to put the finishing touches on your packing, your phone buzzes with a text. 
Outside whenever you're ready :) 
i'll be out soon! <3
Maybe you should tell Johnny you'd buzz him up, but considering that your packing has made your flat look like a tornado has ripped through it, perhaps it's best not.
You do your best to rush, not wanting to exhaust Johnny's good patience, jamming in a few final items you might need just in case, before locking up your flat and heading down to the lobby.
You step out into the car park, spotting Johnny standing beaming, leaning against a jeep. His arms and chest bulge in his burgundy Henley, his jeans are slung low on his hips in such a tempting way. Is it possible he got more attractive since the last time you saw him? 
Your eyes crawl over him, drinking in every little detail and falling for his good looks all over again—just as enraptured in his beauty as the first time. 
"Hi." You call out as soon as the two of you meet eyes, the spark between you instantly reigniting just through a look.
"Hey, you." He immediately reaches for your bag, taking the weight off of your shoulder like it's nothing to him—even though the weight was already starting to strain your shoulder. "Let me grab that for yer." 
You let him take your bag, watching with glee as opens the boot to put it away. The manners are such a turn-on. "What a gentleman." 
His chest puffs up in pride, a resolute look on his face. "Ma maw raised me right." 
After closing the door to the boot, Johnny jogs round to the passenger side, holding the door open for you to climb inside.
"That she did." You nod, impressed and honestly swooning at the princess treatment as Johnny climbs into the driver's side.
With the two of you finally in the car, Johnny leans back to grab a shopping bag from the backseat, opening it to display a range of goodies. "Need anything? I brought drinks and snacks." 
You peer inside the bag to see what he brought before meekly taking a bag of cookies and a can to drink. "Ooh, it's like a real road trip." 
Johnny reaches back to put the bag away, stopping with his hand resting on the back of your seat—his baby blues shine, as does his smile as he looks upon you. "Gotta look after ma girl." 
Your heart hammers against your chest, your cheeks flush and burn.
His girl.
"I could get used to that." You whisper, lost in watching his mouth, recalling the way they wrapped around those words.
"Me too, bonnie." 
Before he turns his attention to getting the car running, he double-checks your seatbelt, making sure you're safe—he makes sure his rearview mirror is perfectly placed taps to activate the directions on his phone. 
And then he does the thing—the arm on the back of the seat, backing out of the parking space and looking so fucking hot while doing it. You're entirely transfixed. 
"I'm just getting it out of the way now, but I am gonna stare at you a tonne, you already look so attractive when you're driving." You know you're babbling just a little, a side effect of the nerves, and the fact that Johnny looks so good to you right now.1
"I'm all yours to feast yer eyes upon." He says with a wink, before turning his attention to the road as he pulls out of your apartment's car park.
"Lucky me." You whisper, gaze tracing over all of his features. "Especially since I love looking at you so much." 
"Shame fer me tha' I have tae keep my eyes on the road." The smile on his face widens as he spares you a glance, doing a quick double-take. 
"At least we have all weekend to spend time together uninterrupted." Feeling brave, you reach out to rest your hand on the back of Johnny's head, caressing the nape of his neck and threading your fingers in the roots of his hair. 
Johnny's shoulders relax, as he leans slightly into the touch. "That we do." His voice turns serious momentarily. "Did you let someone know where you're going?" 
Sweet Johnny, always concerned for your safety, even when it comes to him. The awareness he shows is another thing in the long list of little details you admire about him.
"I forwarded all of your info to a friend, so you should be very afraid." You tease easily. Your friend is under strict instructions to call the police should you not check-in.
"Terrified, lassie." He smirks. "Just tae be clear, you wanna go home at any point, I'll take you, or drive you to the station if yer not comfortable." 
"I appreciate it. And if you want to kick me out, feel free." 
"I'd never." He gasps, full of offence. "Unless ya decide to trash my flat, and even then that's only if you started damaging my keepsakes from ma granny." 
It's your turn to gasp now. You wonder if that comment was inspired by past events—the kind of warning that only comes after you've experienced the event. "Only a monster would do such a thing." 
"Aye, and I bet you can be a brat, but not a monster." 
You shrug, a coy smile on your face, knowing just how bratty you can be when you want to be. "Everyone needs to be a little bratty sometimes." 
"Hmm, do they now? Good job I won't get tired of putting you in yer place then, pet." 
Johnny's hand slides from the gear stick to your thigh, his fingers curling around the exposed flesh just above your knee. The feeling is entirely electric, especially in combination with his words, making you hyper-aware of every sensation as his thumb sweeps over your skin and his hand tugs your legs ever so slightly apart. 
"This okay?" He asks, glancing down to where his hand is settled on you—you know 100% if you said no, he'd withdraw in an instant. 
"More than okay." You smile earnestly, slipping your own hand across to rest in the same place on his broad thigh.  "But can I do the same?" You embrace the denim beneath your fingertips, relish in the firm muscle that rests underneath. 
"As long as it's just tha', don't distract me too much." He smirks, turning briefly to wink at you. 
You try to keep your eyes on the road and your hands respectful. "Can't concentrate on two things at once? Seems unlike you." You tease. 
"I can." He protests, firm and certain, before his voice softens. "But I dinnae want to risk it. Precious cargo on board." He fixes you with a meaningful look in between glances at the road. 
"Johnny..." You sigh, blushing profusely at his compliment and way of thinking. 
"Dinnae care what anyone says, a man who'll drive like a nut with his lovie in the car is no man at all." He nods firmly, face morphing into something serious—though his eyes are filled with mirth, as his serious facade almost cracks."
"So no road head... ever?" You gasp, genuinely a little taken back at the prospect. 
Johnny breathes deeply through his nose, his knuckles on the wheel turning white as his hand at your thigh grips. He faces ahead still, yet speaks slowly. "If the first time I get yer pretty mouth on me is while I'm drivin', I will crash, tha's all am saying." 
"I value your honesty." Your voice leaves you as a whisper, your attempt to joke falling flat at your own breathlessness. You take a moment to compose yourself, before starting to tease again. "Save it for tonight, then?" 
It's Johnny's turn to swallow hard. "We'll see." 
The car journey falls silent for a little while, and the lack of conversation, while comfortable, allows for unpleasant and doubtful thoughts to creep in. 
The truth is, you can talk a big game, but sometimes your desire becomes outpaced by your nerves—then you're left struggling in a swirling pit of darkened thoughts. Every time Johnny pulls away to change gear, you find yourself feeling a little colder until his hand returns. 
But it doesn't do well to dwell on anxious thoughts. You force yourself to stop biting your lip, stop letting your mind flicker back to bad experiences, and actually speak to the one person who can offer you comfort right now.
"I am a little nervous..." You let the words fall free, and feel a little surprised at how small you sound.
"Aww, don't be. There's no pressure at all, promise." He says, sounding sweet and genuine—his hand squeezes your thigh once again. "Even if the furthest we go is cuddling on the couch, I'll be a very happy man." 
The smile on his face speaks to the truth of the statement, and you can't help smiling right back at him. 
"I appreciate you saying that." You think for a moment before continuing, trying to put into words the true source of your angst. "I just... get hesitant about opening up, I guess. Some guys before have promised me the world until they got what they wanted and then..." 
You trail off, not feeling the need or the strength to go into detail about last time, or the time before that.
"Tha's not me." Once more, he squeezes and lets his thumb rub over your skin. "But I don't expect ya to just take my word for it, I'll show ya, as long as it takes." 
His words mean more than you can say, and the fact he intends to back them up means even more. You really hope you can count on him.
"You're so sweet." You sigh, feeling full to the brim with appreciation. 
Johnny seems a little nervous too, frenetic energy making him shuffle in his seat. He seems to be lost in thought for a few moments before he finally speaks up. 
"I'm not looking to rush in and make a mistake maself. The last girl I dated..." He trails off too, his words tinged with dejection as he stares straight ahead. "Let's jus' say it didn't end well, either." 
You nod understandingly, all too familiar with things not ending well. "You don't have to tell me now." 
He shrugs slightly and seems like he's refusing to meet your eye any longer. "Don't want tae ruin the mood." 
"It's hard to ruin it, Johnny. We're meant to be spending time together, getting to know each other." You offer your most reassuring smile, hoping he catches it out of the corner of his eyes. "I have my fair share of sob stories to unload on you, don't worry." 
Although, that's another source of worry, that Johnny will run for the hills once he learns of your baggage.
"I don't doubt it." His lips fall into a frown, before being schooled into a half-hearted smile. "Hopefully we can replace them all with good stories instead." 
You silently nod, hoping for the same. 
"Speaking of good memories, I was thinking we could make pizzas together, I got the dough and some toppings." Johnny mentions, and the notion fills you with joy. 
"Sounds like fun!" You gasp, a pressing thought flickering into your mind. "What kind of pizza toppings do you like? I feel like this is make or break." 
Johnny seems to think for a moment, his tongue poking into his cheek. "Hmm... What are the most controversial choices?" He asks, a shit-eating grin breaking out on his face. 
"Hmm, pineapple?" You pose a controversial yet not particularly gross topping first, to gauge Johnny's taste. 
"Aye, don't mind it." 
"Anchovies?" 
He shrugs. "Why not?"
"... Olives?" 
Now he turns, perplexed. "Who doesn't like olives?" 
"A lot of people! They're horrible." You whine.
"The black ones aren't so bad, ya big baby." Johnny looks as he turns in time to watch you frown, his voice turning so condescending. "Aww, poutin' like one too. What did I tell ya about poutin' in front of me?" 
"That you'd kiss me, nibble on me even." You squeak.
You watch as everything about him changes—his eyes grow stormy and lidded, his lips curl into a satisfied smirk and his voice drops dangerously low. "As soon as we get back, those lips o' yours are mine." 
"... Yes Johnny." Your reply comes automatically, an instinct that you know will be capitalised on.
"Sound so sweet when ya say my name like that." He smiles brightly, genuinely pleased.
"Wait til you're fucking it out of me." 
"That won't be the name I want to hear from that pretty little mouth, bonnie girl." 
Shit. 
You shiver all over, squirming in your seat. "Yes sir." 
"Fuuuuck." Johnny groans, squeezing your thigh extra tight for good measure. "We should set some ground rules for the weekend." 
He suddenly sounds quite serious, though you suppose it's a good thing. Boundaries are needed, especially if you're to keep things sensible and consensual.
"Yeah, sounds good." You nod, falling quiet to allow him to lead the way. 
"I'm not gonna make ya do anything, don't think we're ready for that, but I'd like to tease it, if tha's okay?" You love the way he sounds measured and yet hopeful. 
"More than okay, though I'm sure you love to tease." You giggle, filled with a little nervous energy. Johnny already teases you so much, if he steps up his game any more you might straight up melt into a puddle. 
"Who doesn't? What did ya say about everyone needing to be a brat?" He jokes, winking—all charm. "But aye, think we need a long talk first before anything proper." 
"I look forward to it, though." You admit. Despite detailing a lot of your interests and limits in your initial post, it's good that Johnny is adamant about revisiting them properly. Still, you're excited to get to a point where you both feel comfortable truly exploring your dynamic. "So... can I call you sir?" 
Johnny falls quiet for a moment. "If it comes naturally to yer. Feel like it's something I should earn." 
"You're already doing it, you make it easier to trust you with everything that you do." Like insisting the name is something earned, you think. 
"I'm glad tae hear that." He nods, the smile on his face only slight, as he weighs his responsibility. 
"I do have some questions, though." You begin, somewhat hesitantly, but you suppose it's good to lay your cards on the table completely. A part of you can't live with uncertainty—needs to know Johnny's true intentions. 
He eyes you for a moment, before nodding. "Go on." 
"So, say you had complete control over things going forward, what would you want to happen? What do you... want for our relationship?" You take a moment to breathe after spilling all of that. 
Despite his focus on driving, you can see the cogs in Johnny's head turning as he mulls over your question.
"I want ya to be mine, in every sense of the word. My girl, my pet, my love. Everything, and I want tae be the same to you." 
It's fortunate that you're stopped at a red light, so Johnny is free to look upon you, the meaning deep in his gaze stills you completely. 
The light turns green, stealing his attention back, yet he continues to elaborate—a fond smile on his face. 
"I'll always protect ya and look after ya, and you'll love me and care for me the way a good girl does." 
"I'll get ya a pretty little collar, and a day one too, so no one ever forgets who you belong to."
It's amazing to you how Johnny can make your heart thump and cunt throb all in one sentence, in one look. 
"We'll get you a cage, a nice training routine, and we'll fuck like animals." 
His hand returns to your thigh, just as respectful as it has been all the drive thus far. 
"And when we're not fucking each other's brains out, we're cuddling on the couch, going on dates, spending time with friends. All tha' normal couple stuff." He finishes up with a happy sigh, a far-off look in his eyes as he turns his attention back to you. 
"What about you?" 
After everything Johnny just said, an expression far beyond what you expected, you find it hard to verbalise anything at all, and certainly not something as wonderfully smooth and tempting. 
You open and close your mouth a few times before finally getting your words out.
"Pretty much exactly the same." You cringe internally at how lame and lacklustre your words sound in response. "I'd like the dynamic to extend beyond the bedroom if we can manage it. For me, there isn't really an off switch."
You can only assume Johnny sees eye-to-eye with you on that, considering he replied to your post in the first place. 
"Seems to come naturally with us, I like tha'." 
"Me too." 
Johnny removes his grasp from your thigh, opting to lace his fingers through the hand of yours sitting in your lap. "I'm glad we're on the same page, bonnie." 
You squeeze his hand, relishing the way he instantly squeezes back reassuringly. Despite being connected in this way, you find it hard to look at him as you stumble through a self-conscious admission. "I was a little worried it was gonna be just sex." 
"Already well beyond that, pet," Johnny replies in an instant, before chuckling and squeezing your hand again. "Dinnae go all shy on me now." 
"Why? I'm sure you enjoy seeing me blush and squirm." You mumble, trying to hide your blushing cheeks. 
Johnny hums, amused and content. "Good job tha' I know all the best ways to make it happen then." 
You hide your face in your other hand, cupping your burning cheek and disgusting your shy smile. "It's only gonna get worse for me too, I know it." 
"Promise to use my powers for good, lass." 
You meet Johnny's gaze again, and feel a deep joy and contentedness flowing through every part of you.
"You better." 
You drive through quiet, suburban streets on the outskirts of Hereford, rows of houses passing by until Johnny turns into a street—fairly empty, and neither upscale nor impoverished. On the end sits a house, since converted into two seemingly distinct flats.
"Here we are." He comments, pulling a car to a stop and turning off the engine. Johnny leaves the car first, eager to open the door for you once more. 
"Ooh, are you upstairs or downstairs?" You ask, looking at the flats and the surroundings. 
"Upstairs," Johnny replies, grabbing your bag again. "Landlady lives downstairs, sweet woman." 
Your mind is flooded with a little old lady, lonely and completely adoring when it comes to her young renter.  "I'm sure you have her completely charmed." You giggle, imagining the effect Johnny has on older women. 
"Oh aye." He laughs too, a knowing glint in his eye as he leads you up the stairs, unlocking the door. "Keeps trying to set me up with her daughter." 
"Is that so?" 
"Mhmm." 
As the door opens, the smell hits you—clean and fresh with an undertone of something masculine. The entryway is narrow and crowded with jackets and boots of all kinds. 
"I better tell her you're off limits." You joke, as Johnny steps aside to allow you in.
He doesn't reply, simply taking ahold of you and pinning you to the door, slamming it closed behind you. His firm hands pin you by the hips, pressing you between him and the door in an instant. 
"Johnny!" You gasp, breath stolen from you as Johnny is suddenly in your space—so close and hot and heavy. 
He leans in, one of his hands from your hips drifting up your body, trailing up your breast and your neck, before stopping at your jaw. His large hand cups your face, thumb swiping across the plush of your lips, parting them slightly for him—he's entirely transfixed, eyes filled with arousal as they flicker between your lips and your eyes.
Closing the final few inches, his lips brush against yours, and you can practically taste the mint in his breath. 
He dives in, kissing you fervently, pulling you flush against him as he practically devours your mouth with his lips and tongue. His teeth worry at your lip, his tongue collides with yours, and his hand at your waist grips you intently as a throaty groan leaves him. "Told you, pet, this mouth is mine now." taglist: @cooliofango @ramadiiiisme @pterodactyal @simonrillleyyysss @hexqueensupreme @ivymarquis @oilfics @ghosts-cyphera @msdrpreist @collmemabi @ysljoon @kmi-02 @mockerycrow @nakedcrackers @cassiecasluciluce @xcup1d @cloudsovercoffee @lovewithasideoflust @abbiesxox @ramblingsofachaoticthinker @bubuslutty want to be tagged? click here! want to be untagged? dm me or comment, i won't be offended <;3
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itsmealaiah · 2 months
Note
Request for johnnie with fem reader
Maybe like a virgin johnnie and reader is his first relationship and he's super nervous to have sex and he avoids the topic whenever you bring it up and you don't know why but then he finally tells you that he's a virgin and you teach him everything and he's a sub
ofc!
I think he mighta lied
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tags/ warnings: virgin johnnie, shopping for sex toys, sex education, p in v, trip to spencers, use of a vibrator, just overall smut 😭
minors do not interact
pairing: johnnie x fem
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Johnnie had always been a nervous wreck around you. He'd stutter and stammer, fidget with his hands, and sometimes even turn beet red when he looked at you. You couldn't help but wonder what it was about you that made him so uncomfortable. One night, as you were cuddling on the couch, you decided to bring it up. "Johnnie, sweetheart… is something bothering you? You seem… I don't know, a little off tonight."
He hesitated for a moment, his adam's apple bobbing up and down as he swallowed hard. "I-it's just… I… I've never really been with anyone before," he blurted out, the words tumbling out of him in a rush. "I mean… not like this."
Your eyes widened in surprise. "You're a virgin?" You whispered, not quite believing your ears. He nodded mutely, his face burning up even more. "Oh, Johnnie… I had no idea," you said, your voice filled with sympathy and understanding. You reached out to stroke his cheek, feeling a rush of protectiveness and tenderness wash over you.
"It's okay, love," you assured him. "We can take it slow, and I'll make sure you feel comfortable and loved every step of the way." He looked up at you, hope and uncertainty warring in his eyes. "You know I'll always take care of you, right?" you said, brushing a lock of hair behind his ear. He nodded slowly, his expression softening as he leaned into your touch.
Over the next few days, you found yourself becoming more and more curious about his sexuality. You wanted to explore it with him, to help him discover what felt good and how he could best express himself. You considered asking about his fantasies or if he'd ever used any sex toys, but you didn't want to push him too far too quickly. You wanted him to feel safe and secure in your arms first.
One evening, as you were making dinner together, you casually mentioned a sex toy you'd seen in a shop. "Oh, that sounds interesting," he said, looking thoughtful. "I've always been curious about those." You exchanged a sly smile and decided to take the plunge. "Well, why don't we go check it out together?" You asked, leading him by the hand toward the shop.
Inside, you browsed through the selection of sex toys together, your hands occasionally brushing against each other as you examined different items. "This one looks pretty cool," you said, picking up a sleek, black vibrator. "It's waterproof, so we could even use it in the shower." Johnnie blushed deep red but didn't pull his hand away. "Y-yes," he stammered. "That sounds… nice." He seemed to be growing more comfortable with the topic as you continued to discuss it, and you couldn't help but feel a rush of pride and affection for him.
Eventually, you decided to purchase the vibrator and a few other items. As you checked out, Johnnie's face flushed even deeper, but he didn't complain when you suggested that you could test out the toys together that night. Your heart skipped a beat at the thought of being so intimate with him, of helping him explore his sexuality and find pleasure.
Once you were back at home, you led Johnnie to the bedroom, your movements slow and deliberate. You undressed him carefully, revealing his soft, smooth skin, and then helped him remove your own clothes. He lay down on the bed, his eyes fixed on the ceiling, his breathing labored. You knelt beside him, running your fingers lightly down his chest and abdomen before reaching between his legs.
As you guided his hand to the vibrator, he looked at you with a mixture of curiosity and nervousness. You smiled reassuringly and showed him how to turn it on. The low hum filled the room, and you could see the anticipation building in his eyes. "Take your time," you whispered, "and just focus on how it feels." He nodded, hesitantly pressing the vibrator against his erection. His eyes widened in surprise as he felt the sensation, and then he let out a shaky breath.
You watched him as he explored the sensation, his hips beginning to move in time with the vibration. His hands trembled slightly, but he didn't seem to mind. In fact, it only added to the endearingly human quality of the scene. You reached out to stroke his cheek, feeling a surge of love and protectiveness well up inside you. "It's okay, sweetheart," you murmured. "You're doing great." He turned his head into your touch, his eyes still fixed on the vibrator in his hand. "It feels… really good," he whispered.
You couldn't help but smile at the sight of him, enjoying the sensation and finally beginning to feel comfortable in his own skin. You moved to kneel between his spread legs, taking the vibrator from his hand and guiding it expertly against his flesh. He arched his back, letting out a moan as the vibrations intensified. You watched him closely, admiring the way he moved, the way his body responded to pleasure.
As his breathing grew ragged and his hips began to thrust into your touch, you reached out to explore his body further. You ran your fingers lightly over his chest and stomach, teasing him with the promise of more sensation. He gasped and squirmed beneath you, his erection throbbing in time with his heartbeat. You couldn't help but feel a surge of pride and arousal at the power you had over him, at the trust he'd placed in you to help him discover this new side of himself.
With a soft moan, you pressed your body against his, guiding him into you. The sensation of being filled, of feeling so connected, was overwhelming in the best possible way. You wrapped your legs around his hips, urging him to move deeper, faster. He met your rhythm with eager strokes, his grip on your shoulders tightening as he lost himself in the pleasure.
The sound of your skin slapping together filled the room, and the smell of sweat and arousal hung heavy in the air. You looked down at Johnnie's flushed face, his eyes squeezed shut and his mouth open in a silent cry of ecstasy. You could feel the tension building inside him, the impending release of all that built-up desire and anticipation. You knew that it wouldn't be long now.
You slowed your movements, drawing out the pleasure for as long as you could, savoring the feel of him inside you and the way he moved against you. His breathing grew ragged, his hips bucking harder with each thrust. You could feel the muscles in his back tensing, preparing for the release that was rapidly approaching.
As he reached his peak, you felt his hot seed spill inside you, filling you up and connecting you in a way that seemed to reach beyond the physical. His body went rigid for a moment, then relaxed, collapsing onto the bed. You wrapped your arms around him, holding him close, feeling the aftershocks of his orgasm pulse through your own body.
You rested your chin on his shoulder, breathing heavily, and looked down at him. His cheeks were flushed, his lips slightly parted, and his eyes were glassy with pleasure. "That was…," he began, and then trailed off, unable to find the words to adequately describe what he'd just experienced. You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through your chest at the sight of him so thoroughly satisfied.
As your heart rate began to slow, you moved to lie beside him, propping your head up on one hand. He reached out to caress your cheek, tracing the line of your jaw with his fingers. "thank you," he whispered, his voice still husky with desire.
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might start writing for colby brock/ sam golbach soon 😏
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Text
The Captain - Simon Riley x Sniper!Reader, Wife!Reader
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Part 3: Let's Have a Baby
summary: Ghost’s sniper wife (reader) joins Task Force 141 on an op, against his wishes call sign: Freyja warning: MDNI, mentions of canon typical violence and death (ofc), implied child loss Note: The much-awaited part 3 of The Captain! Thank you so much for all of your support! And don't y'all, Part 4 is brewing ;) Enjoy and blessed be! << Previous | Next >>
“Mohawk’s gettin’ particularly long, Johnny boy. When’s the last time you took any off the top?” Freyja asked, tugging at the end of a long strand at the back of his head.
“Dinnae dae that!” Soap whipped his head around and gave her a look of playful irritation. “If it weren’t for that wee barra in your belly I’d knock ya one, lass.”
“You wish, tough guy.”
“Just you wait, soon as y’return to full duty, we’ll have a square go, ye fuckin’ weapon.”
“I’ll block off my calendar.”
She and Soap had grown rather close since they all returned to England following the mission. As promised, Ghost spoke with Price, who convinced Kate to transfer her to the 141 permanently. While she was on desk duty for now, being on the same team would be tremendously helpful in keeping their schedules in sync. The couple could carpool to and from the base together, and John would do his best to keep them from being deployed at the same time.
Plus, she got to spend all her day with her friends and husband, which was a phenomenal change of pace from their previous setup. It was far less lonely being surrounded by the bustle of the busy base and having other friends to talk to besides Price.
They had a standing ‘play date’, as Price called it, every Friday night, where they watched movies, played board games, and ordered takeout. Board games usually ended in a heated exchange between her and whichever unlucky soul had crossed her (usually during Catan), her normally fiery temper heightened with each month of pregnancy that passed. There had been several instances of Ghost scooping her up in his arms and hauling her away to cool off before (any other) objects were lobbed at someone’s head.
One time, Freyja was in rare form when Gaz refused to trade for a material she desperately needed, and whipped a pointed dinner knife in his direction.
“What is with you guys and throwing bloody knives at me?!” he cried, throwing his hands in the air as Ghost dragged her off, screaming obscenities in various angry-sounding languages.
Soap jerked the blade out of the wall. “Dunno if I should be turned on or terrified,” he had said thoughtfully, turning it over in his hand. 
“BOTH, YOU SLIMY, CHEATING MOTHERFUCKERS!”
Catan was banned for a few weeks after that incident, and Freyja gave Kyle the following day off as an apology, though he insisted it wasn’t necessary.
Freyja lowered herself into a chair on the other side of Soap’s desk and leaned her head on her fist, watching him do his paperwork. She’d already finished for the day but was waiting for her husband to fetch her and bring her home to prepare for another Friday with the boys.
“So, Captain, any big plans for this weekend?” Soap asked, still scribbling away at the stack of forms in front of him.
She pursed her lips and shrugged. “Nah. It’s our anniversary on Sunday. Have a routine visit tomorrow to see how the baby’s growing. Nothing crazy.”
“Anniversary?! You didn’t tell me that was comin’ up!”
Her eyes rolled with a chuckle. “Soap, we aren’t showy people. Never have been,” she started, adjusting to sit straighter after having slid down in the chair a bit. Her round belly had started to weigh down her body a few weeks back, and she was starting to feel the effects of back and neck pain. “We weren’t together for very long when we got engaged, if you’d even call it that. We got married a few days later, as soon as we got back to the UK. Didn’t want to waste time, given our line of work.”
Johnny laughed at this, tossing his pen into a mug he fashioned as a stationary holder. “Oh, I’d bet he just loved slappin’ his name after ‘Captain’, too,” he joked with a raised brow.
The image of a spinning circle on a computer came to mind because that was exactly what she was doing. Buffering, her mouth open slightly while she processed his comment. Her mind screamed at her to say something, anything, but nothing came out as she stared at the Sergeant.
He clearly picked up on her inner turmoil, because he asked, “What? What’d I say?”
Goddamn pregnancy brain. “Ah…Nothing. He didn’t like me taking his name, actually,” she mostly muttered, unable to find a way out of the conversation at this point. “He asked me not to change my name and I did it anyway.”
“I don’t get it, why wouldn’t Ghost want ya to change yer name?”
Freyja sighed as she rubbed a hand over the top of her bump, a recent habit for comfort. The baby hadn’t been particularly active that day, only offering a bit of shifting. “You’d have to ask him, John.”
She rarely called him John, so he knew the conversation was over on her part. “How’s your back?” Best to change the subject and move on. 
She was grateful for it. “Terrible. Even sitting here is bothering me.”
Soap lit up and he practically jumped to his feet. “I can do that thing I saw Ghost doin’ last week!” He was already in front of her before she could even answer.
He had been relentless ever since he caught their cute little private moment in the kitchen when she was supposed to be getting herself some fruit to snack on. Simon followed shortly after, offering to get her fruit bowl together for her so she could sit down again. Craving some semblance of independence, she instead offered to cut up her snack while her husband took some of the weight off her back.
“Walked myself right into that one. You just want an excuse to grope my belly.”
“Me? Never! M’offended that y’would say such a thing, Bonnie,” he feigned hurt feelings, pouting with his best puppy dog eyes.
“Alright, fine! Come’ere, I’ll show you,” she laughed, high up in her chest. Freyja pulled herself up with his hands and moved them to the more open space in his office. “Alright, so I’m gonna stand here—“ She turned to press her back against his chest and took his wrist in her hands. “—then you just wanna put your hands flat like this—“ She flattened his palms just under the swell of her stomach, by each point of her pelvis. “—and now you carefully pull up. Emphasis on carefully.”
She groaned at the sudden relief, her head falling back against Soap’s shoulder as he just barely lifted her stomach. 
“There w’are. Steamin’ Jesus, how’s such a wee thing so bloody heavy?”
“Yeah, now imagine carrying that around with your back twenty-four-seven.”
They stood silently for a minute, soaking in the relief from the lack of pressure on her disks. A small hand dragged across the underside of her stomach, pressing against Soap’s hand. His chest rumbled against her back, but he held steady.
“Will anyone be coming for a visit? When she’s born?” It was bold of him to bring up such a sensitive subject, but his curiosity got the better of him.
“No.”
“And you’re alright with that?”
“I have everyone I need right here, Johnny. Who else outside my husband would give my back a break and hold my giant belly?” She reached back to jokingly slap his cheek a few times.
“Where’s that husband o’ yours at? It’s gettin’ late.”
A soft knock on the open door had her turning her head. “I’m comin’, Jesus,” Ghost said, approaching with his hands in his pockets, t-shirt tight as ever. He took in her smiling form, intrigued by the scene in front of him. He smiled beneath his mask, eyes crinkling slightly. “How are my girls?”
Freyja flinched, a hand flying to her belly at the sharp kick. She sported an angry pout. “Ow! That hurt, you little–”
“Be nice. She can’t help that I’m her favorite.”
She pulled out of Soap’s hold, sad to lose the help on one hand, but thrilled to see Simon on the other. “You’re so obnoxious. I’m literally creating her organs and limbs, making sure she has ten fingers and toes, and I don’t get so much as a single hand or kick. But the second she hears your stupid voice, she’s suddenly an MMA fighter,” she complained, shoving at his shoulder. “Un-fucking-believable. I hate you.”
“Mmm, sure you do. How will I ever get back in your good graces?”
“I want Chinese tonight.”
“I think I can manage that.” Ghost bent down to gently, but briefly, touch his forehead to hers, one of their familiar gestures to refrain from more overt displays of affection on base. She would occasionally give him a peck over his skull mask, and they often shared passing touches, but neither partner was a huge fan of PDA. In the comfort of their own home, they were much more obvious, even around the other members of the team. Just not on base (save for a quick romp. Or two. Or– y’know what, never mind).
“Aw, lookit ya wee sook,” Soap cooed, nudging Ghost with his elbow as he walked past, gathering his things to head home.
She giggled and patted Simon’s pec. “He really is!”
Simon grumbled but guided Freyja to the door with a hand on her lower back. “If you lot keep talkin’ nonsense around me, I’ll pop a gasket.”
“It’s not nonsense, Simon. It’s a beautiful language. One that your people just so happened to smother into near extinction,” she sang, pursing her lips in a challenge as she looked up at him walking next to her.
“OOO, sick burn, lass!” Soap smacked their hands together, laughing heartily.
“Fuckin’ hell…”
~*~
Simon checked the time on his phone again with a deep sigh, shaking his head. He detested getting to work anything past ten minutes early, and it was currently five past six. Freyja had told him to go ahead and toss their baby bag in the car, which he had done ten minutes ago. He insisted they keep their ‘go-bag’ (her word, not his) with them, either in the car on errands or on base during the work week.
The area around their front door was littered with broken-down cardboard boxes from various toys and furniture from the nursery. The Task Force had turned out to be extremely generous uncles, to the point where the Rileys hardly had to buy anything. Johnny and Gaz were by far the worst listeners, continuing to purchase mountains of clothes long after Freyja and Ghost begged them to stop. Enough clothes that she would never have to wear the same outfit twice for the first year of her life.
Not even born yet and already spoiled rotten.
Her boots weren’t in the tray by the door, so she must have gotten to that part of her routine, at least. He pushed off the door frame in their entryway, making his way toward the living room. “Frey, what are you doin’? We’re already five minutes late–”
He cut himself off when he laid eyes on the sight in front of him – his wife, now 39 weeks pregnant, attempting to contort her body around her bump to lace up her boots. Simon allowed himself a moment to watch in amusement before clearing his throat and grabbing her attention. “Do you need help?” he asked, about to kneel in front of her.
She grunted and shook her head, then tried to smooth the mussed-up fly-aways that had started to poke up at the edges of her tied-back hair. “No, I can do this. I just did it on Friday.”
“Darling, that was three days ago. There’s no shame in askin’ for help–” He stopped again at the icy glare thrown his way, crossed his arms over his chest, and sat in the armchair across from her. “A’right, if you insist.” He had long noticed that she sometimes struggled to accept help with tasks she could normally complete on her own, if not for a protruding bump being in the way. He knew if she really needed help, she would ask.
This time, she propped the heel of her boot on the coffee table and attempted to stretch over her belly. She was proud of the strength and flexibility she had been able to maintain throughout her entire pregnancy, up until now. Not many people could say they could even see their feet this far into their pregnancy, let alone tie their shoes. After another minute of huffing and puffing, fingers just barely unable to graze the laces, she held her foot out to her watchful husband and sighed. “Fine,” she mumbled, crossed arms mimicking his.
He smiled softly under his mask, blue eyes twinkling with silent laughter as he slid to his knees at her feet, pressing the sole into his chest. “Thank you,” he praised, taking his time to focus on doing her shoes up at the tightness she liked to support her ankles, but allow breathing room at her calves. As he finished up the second foot, he heard a quiet sniffle and jerked his head up to meet her eyes.
Bloody hell, not the waterworks again…
He gently pushed her legs apart and settled between them, his gloved hands covering and rubbing her knees. “What’s wrong, love?”
Freyja wiped her nose with the back of her hand, then used the neckline of her t-shirt to swipe at her wet cheeks. “Nothing, I’m just annoyed. Feels like I can barely function on my own.”
“If I recall, you’re the one who insisted on working until she’s born.”
“Fuck you.”
“Promise?”
She playfully shoved his shoulder, rolling her eyes as she scoffed. 
Ghost pulled his mask up to his nose, just enough to steal a long, soft kiss from her, fingers still gripping her thighs. When they broke apart, he swooped down to press wet kisses on her belly. Freyja put the fabric back in place with deft fingers. “A’right, we sorted?” He smacked her thigh twice when she nodded and offered her hands to help her stand. “Good, you know how I am about bein’ late.”
“Maybe I’ll get lucky and she’ll be an early bird like her daddy.”
“Better than always being late like her mum.”
“Low blow, baby. Low blow.”
They made jabs at each other back and forth the entire ride to base (lovingly, of course) and during their walk to their offices, only pausing for the occasional passerby.
~*~
Kyle handed off a steaming mug of tea to Ghost, taking a small sip of his own as they watched the recruits spar with Soap. Most days, the three of them worked with the privates for a few hours, varying from marksmanship, hand-to-hand combat, etcetera. Ghost tugged his mask up enough to enjoy his caffeine, the steam dampening the wrinkled fabric.
“How was your weekend, Ghost?”
He hid his subtle smirk behind the cup, the memory of their anniversary evening at the forefront of his mind. Ghost met Gaz’s gaze with a side eye, to which the Sergeant snorted with a throaty chuckle. Gaz fixed the brim of his hat lower to shade his eyes from the sun better. “Shouldn’t have asked,” he said, a bright, cheeky grin on his face. “Change the subject.”
Ghost thought back to that morning, snickering himself and cradling the mug with both hands. “Frey couldn’t tie her boots this morning.” He tried to hide his amusement, he really did. But both men burst into deep laughter, Gaz shamefully covering his eyes with his free hand as he imagined the Captain working around her stomach.
“Bloody hell, poor thing.” When they finally composed themselves, Kyle took a deep breath and wiped a stray tear from his eye. He sighed and placed his now empty mug on the ground, his hands now hanging onto the lip of his tactical vest. The Brit observed the training session, occasionally glancing over at Ghost to gauge his mood. Maybe he should mind his business, but Gaz also wanted to be a good friend to the Rileys. In the end, he decided to take the plunge. “I see it, y’know,” he said, choosing a careful tone.
Simon turned his head fully to shoot him a probing look, urging him to continue.
Gaz sighed to himself. In too deep, now. “Just something I’ve noticed. Seems like she’s done this before, s’all.”
Damn Kyle Garrick and his perceptiveness. How long had the Sergeant been sitting on that thought, watching and observing her mannerisms? Simon stood staring blankly at his companion, unblinking for too long. His heart clenched painfully, twisting and beating violently against his ribs. When his eyes did finally come back into focus, he covered his face again. “As you were, Sergeant,” he commanded, his tone stern and unyielding. Neither of them noticed the Scot break away from the recruits, reading a text from his phone.
“I don’t mean to pry, sir–”
“Lt?” Soap held the device up, brows knotted together. He didn’t make much of an effort to hide his emotions and was concerned. “Price needs ya, sir. Said he’s pretty sure yer wife’s been in labor for the last hour.”
The trio quickly appeared in her office, where she sat behind her desk, beads of sweat on her forehead as she typed away at her computer. John shrugged helplessly and then scratched at the stubble under his chin. About an hour into their daily morning meeting, where he brought her peppermint tea while they worked over files and potential recruits. They were mid-discussing her scheduled c-section when he noticed her breaths sporadically shake, or the muscles in her arms tightening for seemingly no reason. Price asked her if she was okay and was brushed off every time he prodded at her; when he finally had enough, he decided to call for reinforcements.
Freyja glared at the men, mainly aiming it at Price. “Traitor,” she growled, continuing to work through another contraction.
Simon tossed the keys to their car to Price, who swiftly snagged them out of the air and slipped behind them. In the meantime, he tucked his mask into the back pocket of his jeans, his slightly overgrown blonde hair and the top of his head sticking up. He sat on the edge of the desk, looking down at her as she attempted to ignore his presence. His foot slipped a little on the floor, and he found a small puddle trickling across the floor from the space under her chair. “Anything you want to tell me?” he asked, impossibly soft and gentle for a usually deep, gruff military man.
“No.” She was an accomplished sniper and a skilled linguist and had been deployed on hundreds of special missions, interrogations, and rescues during her military tenure. She, however, wasn’t very convincing when it came to lying to her husband, especially when another sharp pain rippled through her body, forcing her to flinch.
“Wanna try that again?”
Her eyes watered uncontrollably, her lip trembling as she tried to keep herself together. The notion didn’t last long, and her head shook from side to side.
“How long?”
“Long enough.”
“Hm.” Simon turned her chair with his shin until she faced him. As he suspected, dark wetness was creeping up the fabric of her jeans. “We should get going then, yeah?” He tilted his head to the side, watching as she grabbed his hand in a fierce grip.
“Simon–” The woman choked on her tears, panic starting to claw its way up her stomach and wrenching her tight throat. “The OB’s out of the country,” she whimpered, barely a whisper.
“I know. Seems that she’s taken after her old man, like y’said,” he offered in an attempt to give her some comedic relief in her state. Simon could see the panic attack set in, and while he knew he couldn’t stop it, he could at least lessen its effects some.
“I was kidding.”
He smiled softly at her and squeezed her palm, drawing soothing circles with his thumb. “Don’t think she’s quite old enough for sarcasm, there, sweetheart.” He got down to his knees in front of her, sitting back on his heels, just under eye level now instead of towering over her. A familiar position for them as of late. “Looks like we’re doin’ this the old-fashioned way.”
She started crying hysterically now, nearly crushing his hand and cradling her belly. “Simon…I–”
“I know.”
It was as if their audience had completely disappeared, leaving just the two of them for what should be a private moment. But Soap and Gaz were still pressed to the wall by the door. In the months they had become close friends with Simon’s wife, she was almost always composed, her moments of hormonal rage the only outlier they witnessed. They’d never seen her such a panicked, blubbering mess, but Gaz had an idea he knew what it was about, even without specifics. For that reason, he chose to keep his distance and advised Soap to do the same with a tap to the shoulder.
“This–This isn’t the plan. I wanted…they’re supposed to take her out. I don’t want to push again.”
“I know,” he repeated. “I’m sorry, love, but you’ll have to.”
“Can’t we just–” A gasp cut her off, her features pinching together in pain while she rode out yet another contraction.
“No. We can’t.”
“I can’t do this again, Simon! I can’t!” Her chest heaved and she sobbed, struggling to catch her breath. Panic attacks had become more frequent during her pregnancy. There had been about five or six instances where an odd feeling or uncomfortable pain had anxiety washing over her, sending her into a spiral until they could get to an emergency room or OB, snapping at them to ‘just fucking check, for fuck’s sake’. This was definitely one of the worst. All of her meticulous planning, down to every nitty-gritty detail to ensure she didn’t have an episode went right out the window because a certain impatient Riley was eager to make her exit and simultaneous entrance to the world.
The world was collapsing around her, dark and suffocating. The cold pit dragged her back to what seemed like another life, where she lay curled up in a hospital bed, sick and hot and in the worst agony she would ever experience. Her bones burned and ached, struggling to sit still yet unable to move at the same time. Price’s phantom touch ghosted up and down her bare back in that place, brushed her sticky hair off her forehead, pressed a cold towel to her neck as violent sobs and forced, unnatural contractions tore through her—
She blinked when different, gloved hands slipped under her hair, the warmth of her skin bleeding through the material as he cradled her face. Her fingers slipped down to dig into his tattooed wrist. “You can, and you will. Take a breath,” he took a deep breath, guiding her through the exercise. He held the air in his chest before letting it out in a slow exhale, which she mimicked. Ghost summoned Gaz over and rose, pulling her up with him. “Good girl. Can you walk?”
When she nodded, Kyle slipped into the space beside her, offering his forearm for support. She knew Simon could have handled her himself, but it warmed her heart to see him leaning on their friends. John had been a great support system when Simon deployed on his own, but having so many hands to hold made her feel loved and understood.
“A’right then, let’s have a baby, yeah?”
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daydreamingyuta · 5 months
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NCT as Husbands Series: Johnny Suh
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summary: fluff, drabble, husband!johnny wc: 830 nct as husbands masterlist
Johnny is such husband material!! He's genuinely soo thoughtful and sweet! like I always think about jcc and how he picks things to do based on who's in the video with him and what they would enjoy doing. which is why I would say one of his love languages is for sure acts of service! like he would always do the little things for you, that you may not even notice.
Also really big on communication. Anytime there's conflict in your marriage he's sitting you down and talking through it until you find a good solution. which I think is also a way that he shows he loves you because usually he can just brush things off, but with you he makes sure you're both on the same page and fully understand everything from each other's perspectives.
Johnny as a husband is also just so much fun! like there's not a day that goes by where he doesn't flirt with you like crazy. You could be twenty-five years into your marriage and he's still making you blush. He also loves to travel with you. He's always loved traveling and having someone who he can experience the world with is soo precious to him!!
I also feel like he would be in a constant battle with himself on how to impress you more and more by his good husband skills. Like he became a husband and all of a sudden it’s his life mission to make you the single happiest wife on earth. Especially with making sure you're taken care of!
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Johnny enters the front door, too tired to even properly lift his feet causing them to drag. The combination of not getting enough sleep and dancing for hours straight was taking a toil on him. He knows immediately that you're not back from work yet, the atmosphere in an empty home just feels different somehow. He figures that you must be working late again. If he wasn't married, he would probably just go to bed right now without properly taking care of his needs, but he is married and he knows that you'll be hungry when you get home. He quickly checks in the kitchen to see if there's something easy to cook, but he doesn't find anything. He settles on taking out his phone and ordering takeout. He has a page on his notes app of all your favorite things to order from different restaurants just for situations like this. Yes, he could just ask you what you want, but sometimes being surprised with your favorite food just made it taste that much better. He places the order and then walks into the bathroom to wash his face, in hopes that it might wake him up a bit. However, once he flips on the light switch, he notices one of your face masks laying on the counter. "She must not have had enough time to do it last night." He thinks to himself, making a mental note of this as he brings his cupped hands full of cool water to his face. ⸻ It's not long after the food arrives that you come home, just as exhausted and hungry as Johnny figured you'd be. He gives you a sympathetic pout before he brings you into his embrace, letting you stay for as long as you want. It's two whole minutes into the hug before you finally notice the smell of your favorite takeout. You pull away from him and place your hands on his shoulders. "Did you buy me food?" "Maybee." He says, giving you his sweet smile. All your energy must have come back to you at the thought of food, because you rushed into the kitchen to grab a plate for the both of you. "Actually, I was thinking we could put on face masks together, sit on the couch, and eat while you tell me about your day." "Genuinely Johnny, I would love nothing more." You say, following him to the bathroom. "Actually, this is perfect because I was wanting to do one yesterday but got too tired." "Oh really?" He says, pretending like he hadn’t seen the face mask earlier.  You two put your sheet masks on in the bathroom and then go over to get your food. You sit on the couch in a criss-cross position as you tell Johnny all about your day. Actually, one of your coworkers recently had a very dramatic breakup with her boyfriend, so Johnny was all ears. "You know, It's actually so hard to eat with a sheet mask on, baby." Johnny says, adjusting his mask that started to slide down. "But it's worth it, it feels so nice," You say, setting down your food and helping him with his mask. You get it back into the right position and then kiss him on his temple which puts a proud grin on his face because he knows getting you food and doing face masks together made you happy. 
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auspicioustidings · 2 months
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Ae Fond Kiss - Part 1
Winsome Wee Thing
Summary: This is the start of a story from this concept. You fall in love and you learn loss more ways than one. Words: 3.9k TWs: major character death (temporary), miscarriage
Parts: 1 2 3
You and your boyfriend's Lieutenant disliked one another immensely and immediately. 
For you it wasn’t so much that the hulking idiot was in a balaclava, although you found the skull pattern so teenage boy edgy that it caused a cringe deep enough to feel right through your molars, it was the obvious dismissal he had for you. For Simon it wasn’t so much that Johnny’s newest pretty little bit was a smart arse, although he could practically feel the ‘not like other girls’ radiating off of you in waves, it was the obvious disdain you had for him. The first impression set the tone for what became a horrid relationship.
“This is my Lieutenant, they call him Ghost but I believe he prefers to be called-”
“That’ll do.”
There was something about the way he cut the puppy dog that was your boyfriend off that riled you a little. 
“Nice to meet you, Ghost. Is that your gamer tag or something?”
“Never been one for games. You a gamer girl?”
“Not enough to have such a cool nickname.”
“Oh I’m sure we could come up with a nickname that would suit you princess.”
Gaz, who you did like, spent the rest of the night meditating while Johnny remained clueless to the simmering hostility between the two of you. Price didn’t really seem to know what to make of it all, but you found you had a natural respect for the Captain and as time went on, he was the one that could always tell you and Ghost to knock it off if he could see a fight brewing.
Johnny had been so excited to introduce you to his team and his team to you and the only thing you and bonehead could seem to agree on was that you would pretend to be civil when Johnny was around. So the jokes were underhanded but could be brushed off as humour, the vitriol was kept for when his back was turned, the eventual birthday presents were tactfully meant to appear innocent but actually be biting insults and the all out war that was had around a pool table was played off as healthy competition. 
If it has been anyone but John MacTavish you’d have dumped him purely so you would never have to see Simon Riley again, but fuck you fell hard and fast for Johnny. You didn’t even fully remember your first meeting. It had been a blind date and you thought you had been stood up so got well past merrily drunk at the bar of a nice restaurant. You had not been stood up, your date had broken down in the snow and in the hours you had been drinking the flurries had become a full blizzard. But that wasn’t going to stop Johnny. In the middle of a backroad with a blizzard beating down and no signal to call he had hiked his ass all the way to you, getting there just in time to catch you wobbling out the door. 
He had been a gentleman, hadn’t taken advantage. You woke up the next day with a handsome man bringing you breakfast in bed and apologising profusely for the whole thing. He had slept on your couch and admitted sheepishly that he had walked you home. From what little you did remember, you had made it difficult by starting a snowball fight and wanting to make snow angels every 5 minutes. You remembered the scent of pine and a roaring fire that enveloped you when he had bundled you in his jacket, breathing in and being transported to a log cabin in the Scottish highlands in winter, safe and drinking something warm with a hint of whiskey. 
If you hadn’t already been falling for him after his bashful teasing that morning, you were flung head first into it when you spent the next week looking after him when his gallantry earned him the worst cold known to man. He was a big baby when he was sick and that combined with the terrible sense of humour that he had made you desperate to learn more about him. 
“Ye cannae be mean tae me, I’m naw long for this world!”
For such a large man, he really was like a little kid bundled up in blankets and whining.
“Uh huh, that’s very valid and very sad but you still need to take your medicine.”
“I was never any good at swallowing, maybe ye can give it tae me as a suppository.”
Ridiculous man.
“Aww come on, swallow like a good boy and maybe we can talk about that suppository when you’re better.”
“Fuck, where have ye been all my life?”
His loopy grin nearly made you plant a kiss on his lips regardless of how ill he was, but instead you just ruffled his hair when he knocked back the pills and wondered how you were ever going to keep from loving this man.
The second date he had left you with a fond kiss at the doorstep after a wild night of earning enough tickets at the arcade to win him a little plush skull toy. He had been obsessed with it when he had first seen it, had told you he needed to win it for his Lieutenant. You thought that was adorable and had put your frankly suspiciously good reflexes to work absolutely rinsing the whack a mole for every ticket you could get from it. Of course had you known then that Simon Riley was the biggest ass on the planet you’d have hoarded your tickets and gotten 300 packets of Haribo instead (or so you’d like to think, but you knew deep down you could never have denied Johnny knowing how bright he smiled when he had traded the tickets for that stupid plush).
By the third date you wanted him so badly that you felt like a bitch in heat. You started to think that maybe you were making a fool of yourself with how calm he seemed whenever you sneaked a touch or whispered a filthy promise. God you liked him so much, it was killing you that maybe he didn’t feel the same. You needn’t have worried as it turned out, date number 3 was when John MacTavish had completely ruined you in a way you had not expected.
“This was really nice” you said, a bit embarrassed if you were honest and avoiding his eyes after he walked you to your front door.
You had been a menace the whole evening. You had never been some sex kitten but fuck he just brought it out in you without even trying. He probably thought you were ridiculous now with how you had tried to be all sultry the whole way through dinner. Fuck, your hands had wandered something awful during the movie as well and you felt the humiliation from it burn from your ears to your toes. He didn’t want you the way you wanted him and you had pathetically thrown yourself at him. He probably couldn’t wait to lose your number. 
“Open the door.”
Shit. He sounded almost angry. The first guy you had really liked in a long time, maybe ever, and you had totally blown it by being over eager. You shakily unlocked your door and blew out a breath, prepared to go inside and cry over a glass of wine. Instead you were grabbed by the waist and slammed against the door to close it behind you so fast it made your head spin. 
John MacTavish’s tongue was down your throat and he had your wrists pinned above your head in a bruising vice grip. You had only just found the sense to kiss back when his lips were gone and instead his teeth were sinking into the delicate skin of your throat. The whine you made at that was all animal, as was his answering growl. 
“Next time ye misbehave like that I’m going tae bend ye over the dinner table and fuck ye hard and proper in front of all those nice, fancy people.”
Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. You had never gotten so wet so fast in your life. The nice lace panties you had on under this dress were soaked right through. He bit off a curse and your legs nearly gave out when he suddenly let you go and backed right off, dragging a hand roughly through his hair. 
“Fuck, sorry. Dinnae hate me, I wanted tae… our first time I mean, I had it all planned oot. Which makes me sound like a creepy, presumptuous bawbag. And now I’m being a fucking reprobate and pinning you tae the door without even asking first.”
Oh my God. You could not just fall in love with a man after 3 dates. And yet looking at his blown out eyes, how his body thrummed with barely contained lust for you and how he nearly vibrated with the effort of holding himself back because he wanted to treat you right… you had fallen in love with a man after 3 dates. 
“I thought…” you said, your hand coming to rest on your flushed chest as you tried to find the words. “I mean at dinner and then at the movie, I um… well I wanted you to, you know. I thought maybe you didn’t want to? Which is fine obviously. I mean if you didn’t want to.”
The whiplash from going from lust to humiliation to lust and back to embarrassment was not something you were enjoying. You looked at him, he looked at you and after a few long moment the two of you burst into laughter. What a bloody pair you made. He came over and wrapped you in his arms, that wonderful scent that just gave you a feeling of contentment deep in your bones sinking into you.
“I want to. Was hard for the whole film, couldnae move that popcorn bucket or someone was getting an eye oot. Wanted tae spank ye red raw for all that teasing” he confessed into your hair, so sincere and blunt about it that you weren’t sure your pussy was likely to forgive you if you didn’t go out of your way to tease him next time. 
“Wanted?”
He laughed, probably because you sounded somewhat like a petulant child, and leaned back, hands going to gently cup your face. Looking into his eyes felt like a gentle falling. Falling into a warm bed on a cold morning after a hot coffee, falling into the first fresh powdery snow of the year, falling in love with a man you hardly knew but felt so much like coming home. 
“Was planning on asking ye tae come with me up North. Got a nice cabin in the Highlands that I usually rent oot since my Captain is always going on about having a backup plan. Want it tae be perfect.”
“You don’t have to go to all that trouble.”
Nobody ever had before. In your somewhat limited experience men wanted to get to fucking as soon as they could and while a few had made sure you came first, none had ever put much thought into getting you into bed in the first place. It just sort of happened. You would never have said you were insecure, but at that moment you felt the crushing weight of feeling that you didn’t deserve this man making such a grand gesture just to get inside you. You already wanted him. And there was no way he wasn’t experienced, how would you ever be good enough to warrant all the effort he was going to?
“Hey, look at me beautiful” he said quietly, thumbs rubbing soothingly across your cheekbones and coaxing your eyes back to his. “I really like you.”
Those four words ruined you entirely. John MacTavish put his heart out there with such simplicity that it stunned you. He could have thrown you on the bed and fucked you rough and savage and you’d have enjoyed it, but instead here he was butting his forehead lightly on yours in affection despite his evident arousal because he wanted more than that. 
“I really like you too.”
Instead of fucking, he held you while you cried like a baby, overwhelmed by the care he took with you. He only made it worse when he whispered to you how you deserved to be treated with adoration. He called you beautiful, bonnie thing, mo leannan, winsome wee thing (that one made you laugh). He refused gently when you wanted to take care of him that night, instead laying you down softly on the pillows and lapping between your legs to bring you to slow orgasm after slow orgasm until you were boneless and sated, slurring your speech as he bundled you in his arms and you spoke about everything from your childhood pets to your great hopes and dreams until you drifted off into the best sleep of your life.
Your first time with him inside you was in that cabin like he had wanted and it had been the most perfect few days of your life. He had made sure you felt safe and comfortable, insisting you gave the location to your friends and going over maps of the area with you, pointing out where you’d need to go to get signal to check in with them. He bought ingredients for all of your favourite meals and stopped for a snack run on the way to boot. He showed you his test results but stressed that he was putting no pressure on you either way and if you did want to have sex he would have condoms if you preferred. And after all that he made it clear that you did not have to have sex with him if you didn’t feel like it. Johnny would be happy to just hold you for a weekend. As soon as you arrived he taught you how to use the sat phone if there was an emergency. The voice on the other end was gruff but soothing somehow, safe sounding (that at least was something that never changed about Simon, despite not liking the man, you always felt safe with him).
You were ready to explode by the time he finally laid you in bed. He stroked deep and slow inside of you, steady and solid and torturous. You understood then the difference between fucking and making love. It was the first time anyone had ever shown you the latter. 
He then proceeded to show you the former in great detail on every surface inside the cabin and on quite a few outside. Your pussy was battered and your clit bruised in the most delicious ways. Your throat was raw from screaming and from being fucked. After a lifetime of swearing up and down it was never something you were interested in, you wound up practically begging for his cock in your ass because there was not one part of you that you did not want dripping with him. And of course he was only too happy to make sure you understood everything he would do to prep you by letting you do it to him first. You couldn’t fucking sit down for a full day after he had indeed spanked you red raw for the teasing you had done on that 3rd date.
A week later you met his family, the week after that his brothers in arms. And then he was gone and you were so worried about him that you constantly felt nauseous. It took years for you to be able to settle when he was deployed, to not spend the whole time imagining him not coming home to you. Because by that time that was what you had built together, a home.
You and Kyle became friends throughout the years. You really did like him, he was easy going and would laugh and let you bitch about Simon whenever you wanted. Captain Price came to feel like an older brother. He was there whenever you needed him, whether it be a car breakdown or because you were in a panic about a handsy coworker (poor guy had broken both hands in an accident the next weekend). And Simon? Well not too much changed there, you dealt with each other when you had to and were it not for your shared love of Johnny you suspected you’d have killed one another. 
At least until Las Almas.
You didn’t know how you were going to tell Johnny. In fact, you probably wouldn’t. What good would it do? It had sorted itself out. That was how you tried to think about it. Food poisoning had made the pill ineffective for a day, you had gotten pregnant unplanned and unwanted and had lost the baby before you’d even started showing. It didn’t matter that while Johnny was somewhere being a hero you had heard a tiny heartbeat at the doctors. You told yourself over and over again that you didn’t want it anyway. You tried to think about how awful everything felt all the time. The morning sickness, the fatigue, the mood swings. 
It was probably just the shock of it, waking up wet from the blood and thinking you were dying. If your first thought had been that you’d rather you die and the baby lived then you tried not to dwell on that. She would have had Johnny’s eyes. He would have wanted a mohawk so he could match his daddy. You forced an image of you telling Johnny and him being upset and not wanting a baby. It was useless. You knew that man. You loved that man. And that man would have gently made sure you wanted to keep it before bursting into happy tears and kissing you senseless.
You couldn’t tell him. You couldn’t break his heart the way the last few months had broken yours. Maybe it was selfish, to want to keep this pain for yourself when you knew beyond a doubt that he’d be desperate to share it, to take as much as he could from you and turn it to gentle comfort the way he always did when you were hurting. But you wanted to be selfish over this.
It was a whole new pain when you answered the door and Ghost was standing there. Your knees went from under you and you collapsed with the weight of why he would be at your door. Why would he be here without your Johnny? It was the first time Simon Riley caught you. 
You never spoke about the way he held you gently and told you that Johnny was ok, he was alive but injured. He made you laugh through your tears and snot by telling you what a bad patient Johnny was being, how he was about ready to beat up every medic on base to get back to you because “I dinnae need fucking morphine I need tae eat my bird’s pussy”. His Scottish accent on that impersonation was truly dreadful. 
Simon never thought he would find himself comforting you. He didn’t like you, he never had. Johnny had never been so serious about anyone and it drove him nuts that you made him so happy. Happiness like that was an easy thing to ruin and you could ruin it if you wanted, that scared the shit out of him. It was even scarier when Johnny had shown him the ring he was planning to offer you. 
He never told Johnny how you had broke in his arms that night. How you had told him about the miscarriage in the dark, bled your pain all over him and let it sink into his skin. He had taken it gladly. In the light of the morning you went back to your dislike of one another, but something had changed in the dark.
You never did tell Johnny. You and Simon settled then on some sort of begrudging respect for one another. You still argued and bit at each other, but with the knowledge that now you would be part of one another's lives forever through Johnny given that only a few days after he came home he had slid a ring onto your finger.
Frankly you were fucking terrified when you came off of the pill. The only thing that got you through it was, unbelievably, Simon mumbling to you in the pub over a game of pool that you were going to be good parents. Of course Johnny had told him you were trying, but you found you didn’t really mind as you grumbled back an awkward thank you. 
You could have strangled Johnny for having such strong fucking swimmers. You hadn't expected to get pregnant almost as soon as you were off birth control and it meant your wedding dress had to be altered to account for the small bump there. The bump he could not keep his hands off. Honestly the man was already insatiable, but fuck he loved you pregnant. He was already talking about more kids and you hadn’t even had the first one, he fucked you and groaned about wanting you pregnant all the time. 
Your husband, something you thought you’d never get sick of saying, drove you mad once again in the late stages. You were hornier than ever and he was determined to treat you like you were made of glass all of a sudden. He certainly still gave you as many orgasms as you demanded, but gone was any rough and feral fucking. You loved making love with Johnny, but fuck if you didn’t miss the fucking. 
You’d never tell Simon it had been your suggestion, not under pain of death. Neither of you had been attached to any name in particular, but you knew how much Johnny loved his Lieutenant. He was his best friend and they owed one another their lives several times over. There was a good chance that you owed him your life. Your husband had kissed you with so much love when you had asked if he’d like to call your son Joseph and after talking about it late into the night you had agreed that the little human inside you was your wee Joey. 
A wee fucking bruiser is what he was, coming into the world kicking and screaming. Ten perfect fingers and ten perfect toes. You joked that he must have screamed so loud he had damaged his own ears when he was referred to the audiology clinic after a second newborn hearing test. They stressed that you shouldn’t worry over it, but you hadn’t been anyway. Joseph was the strongest most wonderful thing you had ever seen, whatever came of it he had two parents who were going to make sure it never made his life anything less than a grand happy adventure.
Johnny had hated leaving him. Price had hated to ask it, had sent you enough flowers to start your own florist in apology. You understood though, your husband was off saving the world after all. Your heart was in your throat when he kissed Joey’s head and then kissed you soundly. Something felt off with him. The kiss felt different somehow, mournful. Maybe it was just a trick of your memory, hindsight tainting what you hadn’t known was the last time you would see your husband.
Simon Riley caught you a second time. John MacTavish was dead.
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creepling · 7 months
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odd one out - j. slaughter & l. mckinney / 3k
synopsis: reader has been with her boyfriend leland since college started. they are your cookie-cut couple destined for love. that all comes to the flip-side when reader's friend from back home, johnny, pays a visit.
tags: fem!reader x johnny x leland. smut - MDNI. porn with plot. pining!johnny. cuck!leland. cuckholding. fingering (fem receiving). mild knife play. teasing/mocking. oral (male receiving). masturbation. vogeurism. use of 'girl' as pet name. manhandling/roughplay. fucked dumb. emasculation. possessiveness. doggystyle. mating press. breeding kink. unprotected sex.
“Is someone there?” Leland called into your house, holding your hand and standing in front of you protectively.
You had just returned to your dorm with your long-term boyfriend. The two of you have been inseparable since you met in college. And now, he is trying to protect you from the perpetrator who opened the mini fridge in the kitchen.
“It’s probably just one of my roommates, Leland. It’s cool,” You say, soothing his tense arm.
“Your roommate would have answered by now,” He said, standing guard.
The fridge-raider finally shows themselves, and you furrow your eyebrows in confusion. Johnny – your friend from back home – leans against the door frame with a beer bottle in hand. He points it up in greeting, a sly smirk on his face.
“Johnny– what are you doing here?” You say, forcing a smile through your confusion. He had not said anything about visiting in your letters and didn’t leave a message. It was a surprise.
Leland was not so fond of the surprise visit, loosening his tension but crossing his arms over his chest. He never liked your friend, Johnny. He could tell a mile away he was a sack of shit. Everything about him made his skin crawl and bawl fists with anger. He never subscribed to the idea of him being a good friend for you, yet he also did not want to be one of those controlling boyfriends who tell you who to hang out with. Leland prefers to keep his wits about him when Johnny's around.
“I was in the city, thought I’d stop by,” Johnny leaned in to bring you into a hug, holding in his chuckle as he felt Leland’s eyes burning into his skull.
You hug back, clocking the beer in Johnny’s hand. “Well, it seems like you’ve helped yourself. You want something to eat or-?”
“Can I talk to you for a second?” Leland interrupted, making Johnny’s head turn. You look at Leland, wondering why his face is so stern, but you nod and excuse yourself. You take Leland to your room and shut the door, waiting to hear what he says in private. 
Leland paces the room, which he does when he’s agitated or stressed. You knew he never got along with Johnny. They’re opposites of each other. Something like this, pulling you aside, will only make the chances of them becoming friends impossible. You wished Leland had trust in Johnny, like he has faith in you.
“Don’t you find this a little odd? Him turning up out of nowhere, without calling or anything? You send letters every week, and he never mentioned coming to the city.” Leland voiced his frustrations, waving his hands in the air.
“Maybe he had to go last minute. He always comes in to fetch things for the yard, so no, Leland, I don’t think it’s weird,” You shrug off.
“He should at least have the decency to call you. How many phone booths are in Austin? Thousands!” He sighs out the tension built in his body, feeling guilty about complaining. “I’m sorry, it’s just-”
“I know you don’t see eye to eye. Johnny has his ways. He likes surprising me, and I like seeing him. That’s all it is. He didn’t mean to turn up unannounced.” You wrap your arms around Leland’s neck, looking at him with kind eyes.
“Where’s he gonna sleep?” He asked, convinced by your kindness. You always had a way of calming him down.
“The couch will do him just fine,” You giggle, giving Leland a peck on the cheek. Leland leaned down and kissed you, mentally cursing Johnny for sabotaging his alone time with you. He hides his vexation with a soft smile.
Johnny was sitting on the couch when you entered the standard room, smiling at the sight of you. You ask Leland to fetch more beers from the fridge, cosying up on the armchair across from the couch. Leland obliges and opens the fridge door, greeted with the empty sight. “All gone,” he called over.
“Dang, musta had the last one,” Johnny tutted, waving the empty beer bottle.
No shit, Sherlock, Leland thought.
“I can go to the store and get some more?” You suggest.
“No, it’s too late for you to be alone. I’ll go,” Leland said, pulling his jacket back on.
“Such a gentleman,” Johnny remarked, mockingly smiling at Leland, earning a hard stare from the brunette.
Leland went to the store before you could tell him off for glaring. Once Leland was out the door, Johnny looked back over to you, resting his arm along the back of the couch.
“Don’t call him that,” You tell Johnny, smiling at his so-called ‘playfulness’.
“What?” Johnny chuckled, acting dumbfounded.
“A gentleman, it’s patronizing,” You laugh, finding Johnny’s chuckle and charming smile contagious.
“I didn’t mean to offend him in any way, and you know that. I’m happy for ya. A pretty girl got herself a pretty boy,” Johnny badgers on, “a match made in heaven.”
You laugh it off, fiddling with the hem of your sleeve, peering out the window for the sight of Leland coming back. Johnny flicks the tip of his tongue over his bottom lip, carefully examining your features. You only got more beautiful as you got older, and if your strict family did not make you off-limits to him, he would have had you sooner. You could've been his fine-looking woman instead of that college boy rut getting the privilege to enjoy you. The thought of Leland acting all ‘boy-next-door’ to please your family sickened him. At least Johnny stayed true to who he was. Except Johnny was always the bad boy who was too old for you, a bad influence on you. He would corrupt you and take you down a destructive path. They were right about that, but Johnny cursed his inability to manipulate you. Once you looked back from the window, Johnny relaxed his face and kept his cool, as if the thoughts in his head were nonexistent. 
“How’s college treatin’ ya? You still the brains of the operation?” Johnny asks.
“Oh, y’know, I like it, but there are people here smarter and got more chance,” You shrug. Johnny slowly shook his head in disagreement.
“I mind you being a pretty face with brains. That’s a rarity. There ain’t no one like you,” The compliment made you smile bashfully, your mind not fully accustomed to the philosophy.
You never knew how to reply to Johnny at times since most interactions with him are compliments – flirtation, but he had a good way of hiding it. Maybe that’s why Leland can’t appreciate him. He senses the intentions. To you, it’s all just fun. Johnny could have any girl he pleased and took pride in that. When he flirts with you, you think nothing of it. Johnny wants nothing more than just flirtatious banter.
What you thought wasn’t the truth. To Johnny, you are the girl he wants. The forever girl, the one he wants to settle with. Even killers have wives, the one women they tokenise. How could anyone suspect him if he’s occupied with the Southern bell of Newt? It is his one-way ticket to displaying reformation.
“Yer man’s taking an awful while,” Johnny muttered, tutting.
“The store’s quite a bit away,” You say.
Still, it’s time for Johnny to buy. He watches you stand and excuse yourself to your bedroom. “I’m gonna go change. I won’t be long.” You say.
Johnny timed it in his head, counting the beats of his heart. He slowly rises from the couch and takes off his jacket, slinging it over the sofa. Before entering your bedroom door, he fixes his hair and sucks on his teeth.
*
Leland frowns at the absence of you and Johnny, the bag of beer cans dangling from his fingers. His heart began to race, expecting the worst. His mind convinces him of a better solution as he places the bag on the table and removes his jacket. Johnny’s finally left, and you’re away to bed. That’s all it is.
He heard moans coming from the bedroom, your moans. His heart sank. They got louder as he stood there, taunting him in his fragile state. Rage burrowed within him and began to come to the surface. He stormed to your bedroom door, planning to swing it open and start the confrontation. But his hand trembles as he lingers on the door handle. A lump forms in his throat, and all he can muster is slowly opening the door. The door creaks as he shuffles inside, forcing his eyes to witness the atrocity.
Johnny had you bent over his knee, your clothes hanging by a thread on your body. His fingers were toying with your cunt as you mewled into your hand. Leland eyes are blown out wide, and he balls his hands into fists. Johnny smirks sinisterly.
“Get your hands off-” Leland protested, but he was cut short at the sight of Johnny holding up a knife.
“I guessed you would try that, so I suggest you don’t. Or I’ll cut her up bit by bit,” Johnny threatened, “You like it anyways, don’t ya, darlin’?”
You couldn’t speak, your throat closed, shame shivering over you. Leland fought the urge to scream, tears collecting on his waterline. “Please… just don’t hurt her,”
“This is what we’re gonna do, pretty boy. I’m gonna fuck your girlfriend, and you’re gonna stand there and watch,” Johnny ordered, keeping his knife tight as he ran the blunt end up your spine. You gasp at the cold feeling on your skin. The breathy tones of your moans petrified Leland. Were you enjoying this?
When he sensed Leland would comply, Johnny returned to touching you, collecting your arousal in his fingers as he ran along your glistening slit. You bit your lip, glancing at your boyfriend with lulled eyes. “It’s okay, Leland. I’m okay,” You reassure him, humiliated by his dumbfounded expression. A moan runs from your lips as you feel Johnny enter a finger inside you, slowly pulsing into your warmth.
Johnny never takes it slow, but he wanted Leland to soak up every movement he made. Prolong the experience as much as possible until it breaks him. Leland backed into the corner of the room, leaning against the wall to hold himself up. Johnny chuckled at the sight of the boy’s hands shaking.
“She’s real tight,” Johnny drawled, “you must not fuck her enough. If it was me, not even a crowbar could pry me off her,”
Leland shook his head, biting the inside of his cheek, wishing he could beat the shit out of him. Nonetheless, he knows better than to get violent. Your life was on the line as Leland carefully watched where Johnny placed his knife. His breath hitched when its sharp end hovered and glazed your skin.
Johnny slid another figure inside you, quickly grabbing your hair with his other hand and pinching his knife between his fingers. His lips lean to your ear, his deep chuckle fogging your concentration.
“Look at him, just standing there, not doing a thing. You really date this pussy?” Johnny taunted. You press your lips into a frown, but your moans are audible, shattering Leland’s ears.
Johnny slips his fingers out, smacks your ass, and orders you to kneel. You comply, gazing at Johnny’s figure towering over you, his hand stroking the bulge in his jeans. “Gonna be a good girl for me?”
Thankful your back was turned from Leland, your lustful eyes look to Johnny in awe. In compliance, you nod your head. Johnny unbuckled his jeans, mesmerised by your eyes and forgetting Leland was in the room. Johnny cusps his hand behind your head and reveals his cock, guiding your lulling, drooling mouth towards him.
Leland silently winced, his lips in a grimace. At the sight, but more so of the feeling coursing through him. Gawking at your arched back, your head bobbing, your lips firm and perked on the tip of Johnny’s cock. He yearned to see your face, the way you look up at him when you suck his dick. Going steady with determination – for your nose to graze his snail trail. Leland sighs, hovering his hand on his crotch, feeling his jeans tighten. That should be him giving pleasure. Johnny captivates you, his cock a few inches bigger than his own, his member filling your mouth until you gag. Leland detects a twitch from his erection, pining for the touch of another.
Johnny changes the mood from across the room, shooting Leland an analytic side-eye. His lips tuck up a smirk at the sight of his hand slightly on his tightening jeans.
“Would you look at that,” Johnny awes mockingly, “Yer man’s starting to like it.”
Leland avoids eye contact with Johnny, focusing on your hushed eyes, trailing down to your craning neck, your movement eager and hungry. Leland unbuckles his jeans, shame overtaking him like a cold sweat.
“Say Leland, you like seeing ya girl sucking good dick?” Johnny taunts further before drawing his attention back to you, readying his hips to buck his cock deeper into your throat.
Leland strokes his cock, collecting his precum and warming the tip, biting his lip. The sounds of your struggle, mixed with greedy drool, send him into a spiral.
“I’m gonna fuck you so good, girl,” Johnny groans, fucking your face into oblivion. Leland suppressed his whines, squeezing his eyes shut and bucking into the warmth of his hand. Sweat drips down his goosebumped neck, and he shivers from the mix of hot and cold sensations. Fear and arousal consume him, the tinge of anger lingering in his manner as he hastily pleasures himself.
Johnny slides his cock slickly out of your mouth. You gasp for air, a string of drool connecting your bottom lip to his tip. It drips on the floor as Johnny motions you to the bed vigorously, prompting your knees at the edge of the bed, pressing your cheek against his as his hand grips your neck. His manhandling sends a shiver down your spine. He whispers flattery into your ear, anticipating the warmth of your pussy, massaging your breasts and pressing his dick between your ass cheeks.
Knife tossed to one side, Johnny reigns your hips with his callous hands, the immersive size of his fingers squeezing your tender skin. His dick teases your entrance, motioning your hips to beckon him inside you. Leland attempts to suppress his pathetic moans as you beg Johnny to fuck you. Please. Please.
Johnny curses under his breath, the lustrous power controlling his instincts and satisfying him like a drug. His obsession transfers into his body as he clings onto you, pushing his cock slowly into your slick cunt, sighing in satisfaction at your breathy moans.
You perk your hips to adjust to Johnny’s size. He was bigger than Leland, his girth acting as pressure against your firm walls, encouraging the pulse of your heat to welcome him. “Johnny,” You whine, “Fuuuuuck.”
Leland could cry on the spot. Forced to succumb to the pleasure you felt from another and clouded with a carnal giddiness, gratification drowning your thoughts. He was a fly on the wall, sensing your love and passion poisoned by primitive arousal. His primal instincts conflicted with him. His heart now shattered, but his cock twitched, and he touched himself with more robustness. 
“That’s it, take it all in,” Johnny sinisterly encouraged. He advanced against your firmness, burrowing his cock deep inside you, finding your sweet spot as you gasped in satisfaction. His eyes-lids droop at the feeling of you tightening around him, your cunt salivating in anticipation. Johnny bucks his hips and graduates into thrusts. His breath hitched as he picked up the pace.
You surprised yourself when your stomach fluttered at the animalistic nature of Johnny’s technique. Your knees buckled under his muscular frame, your hands gripping the sheets. Johnny takes his strong arms to hold up your fragile weight, pressing you against his chest. Whines pour off your lips as he smacks your ass and bites your neck. You thought about telling him to slow down, but the majority outvoted it – you didn’t want him to stop.
Passion and sweetness were absent as Leland leaned harder onto the wall, unbuttoning his shirt as sweat dripped down him. His abs glistening and absent of your touch, he spits on his hand and wraps the moisture around his aching cock, wishing for warmth. Leland observes Johnny’s thick arms entangling your body – all those nights of passionate lovemaking gone to waste. If he knew you liked it like this, he would have given you what you wanted and acted on the dreams he wished were reality. Now, he witnesses the result of his procrastination and watches Johnny fuck his girlfriend better than he ever could.
Johnny’s stamina does not come close to faltering. His pace is consistent and rigid. He only slows down when he feels the build-up in his stomach, stalking his climax to prolong the moment he has manifested for so long. “You know how long I spent thinking about you?” Johnny husked into your ear, “About fucking you, having you as mine? It’s been too damn long. Yeah, I’m going to enjoy this.”
You whine as Johnny’s cock slips out of you, but he quickly turns you around and pins you down on the bed. His hands manhandle your thighs, pinning them down as his eyes hunger on your pulsing cunt. He latches his mouth on your plump lips, and your tongue welcomes his, letting the roughness of his tongue explore your mouth. His mass towers over you as his cock aligns with your entrance. Johnny enters you again with another deep thrust, his length more profound than before. It causes you to yelp, his tip kissing your hymen.
“Not used to a dick this big, darlin’?” Johnny teased, smirking against your lips. His dark eyes pour into yours, and you get caught in a trance. You let his stare overtake your vision, moans bubbling in your throat as he propels deeper into you. 
“You’re mine now. After getting fucked this good, you’ll never wanna see Loverboy again. Ain’t that right?” Johnny growled, his hands gripping your thighs. The reality of his words pierced through your cock-hungry mind. You glance over at Leland, biting your lip at the sight of him pleasuring himself. His eyes locked on yours, his groans audible as you whine as Johnny’s cock pummels into you. As Leland was close to climax, he squeezed his eyes shut, breaking contact. You look back at Johnny. His gaze fixated on your bouncing breasts before staring back at you.
“I wanna come inside you so bad,” Johnny’s words escaped. You look down at his cock fucking into you, your high rising. Johnny’s affirmation wanders in your mind before you moan in defeat, pleading it to be reality.
“Come inside me,” You squeak, your mind overstimulated and hasty. “Fuck. Please, Johnny.”
Aroused by your words, Johnny plunges your pussy, picking up the pace and gripping your neck. His forehead pressed against yours, and your shaking breaths harmonise with the vibration of his growls. The muscles tensing in his neck and the flex of his arms are enough to let your body surrender to him and prepare for his seed.
“‘M gonna fuck my cum into this little pussy. That’ll be enough to make ya mine, eh darlin’?” Johnny mumbles into your ear. You grow lightheaded as his harsh drills bring you to your climax, your bottom lip and legs quivering simultaneously.
“That’s it, girl. Come all over my dick. I’m so close, baby. So close,” Johnny grunts, “I’m gonna fill you up so good. Gonna make ya mine.”
Strings of hot seed fill your insides, and Johnny gasps and growls into your neck, his teeth scraping down your flesh. From the corner of your eye, you witness Leland moan and finish in his hands, his cum pathetically dripping off his knuckles and onto the hardwood floor. It was no match to Johnny’s broad frame pressing against you, his scent mistifying your senses. His dick slowly slips out of your sensitive walls, basking at the rutting sight of you with a smirk.
He had fucked you dumb, and the lust in your eyes was enough to beckon a second round. As Johnny tried to catch his breath, he glanced at Leland in his submissive state. He was now sitting on the floor, looking sadly at his mess. Johnny couldn’t paint a better picture if he could, and he enjoyed the moment while it lasted.
“Don’t think she’ll want you after that, pretty boy,” Johnny mocked, laughing at Leland’s defeat. “She’s better off with me, anyways. Don’t you worry, I’ll be sure to show her a good time – but you already know that.”
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Text
thick as blood
sweet as milk
chapter 4 (parts seems juvenile)
a few days have passed and you finally cleaned your home, the bathroom was a lot nicer now and yes to Francis's odd dismay your apartment looked like a green house, today was rainy so you stayed in writing thank you letters to your neighbors.
Francis was at his last stop. he walked up the steps of a very nice new home, one of those buy to build homes he's seen on Sears catalogs (look it up, very cool)
he knocked on the door with his foot as he carried more milk than a normal household would use, the door opened via a very pretty woman in a blue polka dot dress and blue sweater "Francis! you got my call" she opened the door wide as he walked passed her placing the jug crate on the counter "you wouldn't believe how many cakes the school is asking of me" she continued following him in filling up a glass of lemonade "isn't your husband a baker?" he asked nodding as he took the drink from her "he's too held up with catering the convention that rolled in" she answered folding her arms standing across from him "but I did want to spring something up on you...we've known each other for a bit would you say?" she asked almost in a whisper. Francis stopped mid sip nodding slowly thinking of the million things she was about to say "right...you know my daughter Amelia" she walked passed him into the living room, Francis followed even more puzzled "she's 15 now no?" "yes" god why was she being so vague? "sit, please" she pointed to her pristine yellow couch "you see my daughter got a cat and as funny as it is now we're sad to say she's deathly allergic" she awkwardly laughed "you don't know anyone who would want one hm?" he stared blankly at her for a moment mentally cursing her for freaking him out "Joan, I don-...actually I do know someone in the need of a companion" Joan's eyes sparkled a little "great! Johnny bring the cat" she called upstairs and a few moments later a little boy still in his pajamas carried down a small kitten in his arms "milkman! your taking my sisters cat?" he asked running over to him, the poor kitten wiggling around as he did so "yes i am" "but cats are for girrrllss ewww" Johnny laughed passing the poor sleepy thing to him
"I'm giving it to a girl, but no cats are for men too." francis pet it gently "my dad says sooo" the little kid huffed "ok back to your room." Joan pulled his ear on the way back to the hallway going into his room coming back moments later with bags and a litter box "toys, litter, litter box, and food. its still too small for solid foods so, a little baby formula warm water and the kibble should be good" she pointed to each bag explaining how it worked before sitting down on the armchair beside couch. “ so we’re giving it to a girl, not to fit the stereotype, but is this lady in another home you deliver to?”Joan snickered slapping his knee, hoping that Francis will get the joke, Francis kind of did , but like everyone else Joan couldn’t read him “ She’s my door lady. She actually saved the building from an dopple attack a few nights ago.”he told Joan inspecting the small fluff ball “oh wow must be an intimidating woman” Joan said imagining a large gruff woman with a killer stare, if Francis could read her mind he would’ve laughed but he continued “she seems the type to have a pet.” He got up carrying the bags and box on his hip heading for the door “thanks for the gift Mrs. Wilde” Joan got up to open the door for him “Yaknow Francis, in old Viking tradition gifting a cat to a woman is a symbol of courtship” she said raising a brow hoping to fluster the brick wall “…I don’t think she’s of Viking origin” he said back making Joan face palm “but that is interesting, you were a mythology major?” He asked placing the items into his truck wrapping the kitten in a jacket before gently placing it in the passenger side “ I was, but you know how it goes. You think you’re going to live a life of independence and then you get married to a baker.” Joan looked at the horizon saying that. Francis looked at her with a softened gaze before she snapped to reality “sorry, I hope she loves the cat, and I hope the goddess freya doesn’t get any ideas haha” Joan turned around fixing her sweater hearing Francis as she got to her door “…..your still a mythology major.” He turned around getting into the truck driving off. Joan still at the entrance, smiling in acknowledgment.
Back at your apartment, the twins were back gossiping to you about model drama you could barely understand while they randomly asked questions about you, “ oh and Eliza got fatter so now we all have to weigh before booking! Can you believe it?? Let the girl eat a little extra cake at her mom’s funeral!” Selenne laughed sipping her tea “oh speaking of, miss mia wants us to help her with the wedding venue! Everyone in the building is invited. ” Elenois shook you a little clearly excited “I forgot they were fiancées, since they live together anyway” you giggled pouring another cup for everyone “ y/n! You didn’t tell us you were a max traditionalist~” Celine pointed at you, smiling “ of course not it’s just since they live together. My brain just automatically thinks that.” You felt a little embarrassed but the twins were known to make people sweat for fun. “ Miss Mia wants to have it during the summertime so we have a long time to prepare.” Sel sat back looking out the window “ good thing she doesn’t want it during the spring. It’s so rainy here.”
Francis knocked at the door the cat meowing, he knew it was hungry so it was a perfect opportunity to teach y/n how to care for it, you opened the door smiling then looking straight at the dramatic kitten meowing loudly “ you found a cat?” You asked getting on your toes to see it closer making Francis die of cuteness on the inside thinking to himself ‘she really did that almost automatically, how adorable’ mentally slapping himself he lowered his hand passing the kitten to her, y/n didn’t know if the cat was tiny or Francis hands were huge because it really fit in the palm of his hand only it’s a little leg spilling out, grab the sweet thing, putting it to your chest “aww poor baby, I bet your hungry” he spoke softly, almost afraid to burst its ear drums with your normal tone, Francis look down at you now getting the picture.
he was attracted to you.
You were smaller than him which every 1950s man wants from a partner and you look beautiful doing everything mundane like if he took a picture at a random moment, you would look like a model no matter what. As if someone directed you in that exact pose. And you dressed nicely. He Longed to see you in more colorful items, just to see your features shine brighter. He stared at you in his mind lovingly
But you looked back up to see the most stern look with furrowed brows “um…did I say something?” you got nervous stoking the cat for comfort “ the cat is hungry but do not feed it milk. That is a myth.” he spoke plainly opening one of the bags putting the food items on the table “ baby formula, warm water, and a little bit of kibble is good for the cat, what will you name it ?” He asked sounding pretty excited about the name part “ maybe we should feed it first and then think of a name” you said leading him into the kitchen with the supplies “hiii francy” the twins waved as he did back before they giggled to themselves “he was absolutely fucking her with his eyes “ selenne pushed her sister’s shoulder whisper yelling “ shutup, that’s so not appropriate!” El covered her mouth, both trying their hardest not to laugh too loud.
You and Francis came back from letting the cat eat sitting on the couch, the twins took the cat from you to pet and prod, “it might scratch” Francis pointed “ let them, I heard prodding pets is a good thing because it makes them more tempered” y/n poured him some tea “you had pets before?” He asked thanking her for the tea “we need to hear some y/n lore” Sel nodded “ I didn’t have pets, but my grandparents did, dogs cows, sheep, wasn’t a farm. It was more like a ranch. My parents live in the city like this one and they never really liked animals” you said studying your tea leaves “ Where is your family?” El asked rubbing the kittens belly “ across the country, I have a cousin who lives here. They are really busy.” You looked out the window at the rain. You didn’t want to tell them the whole truth. “We can understand, it seems everyone in this building has busy lives, aside from the housewives” Francis said ”your right” you nodded “oh have you heard about the wedding?” El asked Francis “no, wedding? You two are getting married?” He asked a little frantic “no no we’re not throwing out our careers yet. Mia’s and Dr. aftons wedding!” Selenne rolled her eyes “oh, yes the doctor asked me to be in the grooms party, I think his bachelor party will be at the bowling alley” "yeah sounds like Dr. afton" Sel sighed "mia still doesnt know what she wants, but she does wanna vote so we all have fun!" El smiled surveying the room, francis was staring at his tea cup but you were in the conversation completely "anyway we forgot we have a alot of calls to make love ya bye" she placed the kitten in your hands before pulling her sister out of the apartment "lets give the love birds forced time alone" she whispered to her twin closing the door behind them
"odd" francis glanced at the door
"yeah, hope everythings ok" you sighed looking down at the cat as he stared at you
“Name?” Francis asked clearing his throat “no idea…I’ll think about it” you placed the kitten on the couch as it played with the tassels on the pillow “well, I’m going to head home, tell me when you name her, I’m excited to know” he said you got up and smiled walking him to the door “of course Francis, thank you for the gift” you blushed opening the door hoping for anything “Yaknow I heard that a man giving their loved one a cat is a proposal in Norse mythology” he said grabbing your hand and kissing it “but neither of us are of Viking blood I don’t think ” (sorry if you are) he walked to his door and you stared holding your hand kissing it softly to feel his lips in spirit
A few weeks had passed and you were on a late shift again. The cat followed you around the building so in turn she now had a bed in the office, it 9pm and you had to wait for 5 of the residents to come home late from a press party
Natasha was in the office playing with the cat “do you have a name for her yet?” She asked making it chase a mouse on a string “no…suggestions?” You pulled out a list of names residents have considered passing it to the little girl “hm..” she wrote a few names even her own “…no Natasha” you said crossing out hers, she shrugged and went back to the cat, time passed and you got a little worried turning on the radio, the twins giving you which channel had the convention/press party coverage. You listened in, and rolled your eyes at the sounds of officials and other higher ups giving empty speeches, a knock at the door made you jump looking up to see natcha with her arms folded staring at her daughter “so. This is what you do at bedtime now? I thought I had more time before you started sneaking out” she held her temple sighing you got up feeling guilty for not even asking Natasha if she even asked her mom to be with you “I’m sorry I just assumed since it’s Friday um, I should have called you ma’am” you looked down seeing natcha look back at you with the ‘mom look’ “no don’t apologize, I should have checked on her earlier but I was busy cleaning, Natasha. Room. Now. And I’m taking your record player tomorrow” she said it so calmly, no yelling just a sweet calm yet stern tone “aww mom!! I’m gonna be bored all day!” Natasha folded her arms pouting “ too bad so sad. Up.” She pointed out the door and Natasha walked still pouting “so sorry you had to see punish my child y/n” natcha said fixing her house coat “no no don’t worry about, I just wish my parents were as calm as you are” you smiled seeing another resident walk over, Francis looked over “something happen?” He asked standing near natcha at the doorway, you could see her side step to not touch him. Her face contorting slightly but fixing itself “Natasha sneaked out to play with the cat n the doorman” she said side eyeing him “nat? Sneaking out? She’s 11” he said just kind of knowing? You felt your stomach drop a bit…hoping they couldn’t tell “she’s 12 in a week.” Natcha stated before walking off “goodnight everyone.” She went back to her sweet tone, there it was. The way he turned to look at her, it shot you in the heart a bit “your still working?” He asked walking in, the cat rubbing against him purring “a few of the residents are still not here, neither is the night shift” you looked away from him with a sour look on your face, you felt so stupid. You two were not a thing and also haven’t even kissed yet and here you are assuming a broken family and getting jealous of a woman who’s only ever shown you kindness not to mention fed you. Francis could tell you were reeling from something but didn’t know how to approach “…I can make you a coffee, I got donuts from a friend today” he walked over placing his hand on your arm “you look tired” his warm hand and gravily voice from just waking up made you feel better yet worse, “your one to talk” you smiled trying to let go “so mean” he let go “ I’ll be back” he walked off, you watching the way he moved Lowkey checking the sway of his ass but quickly looking away. The cat sat at the desk ‘listening’ to the radio with you as you gave it scritches “what about Lucy? Mimi? Tiger?” You read off the list of names to the feline hoping it would give some type of approval but you were sure if it nodded you would scream. Francis came back placing a coffee and a muffin and donut “pick” he said pointing, you grabbed his hand pointing it to the chocolate muffin “ I don’t want to be up all night via sugar and coffee” you smiled taking a bit “thank you” you covered your mouth he hummed taking the donut kissing your head before walking out. God you want to fly and throw yourself out a window at the same time, two people walked in, the pilots. Both disfigured and grotesque slamming the papers against the window making you jump “let us in. Miss door man.” One said somehow with a stitched mouth “eat my ass.” You said back making the younger one angry trying to get to you through the paper hole. Fuck I ran out of spa
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bunniekittiee · 6 months
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Could I request some mk1 kenshi content? I love him so much it’s insane, gn or fem reader preferred plz! Maybe a crush or s/o reader whatever you’d like!
Of course! I’ve never written for Kenshi before, so I’m basing this off of stuff I’ve read of MK1 and kind of what I think he would act like. I’ll just write for Fem. Reader since that’s what I’ve been doing lately, if you don’t mind! I kept it SFW btw.
Kenshi x Fem. Reader
Kenshi is not one to fall in love so easily, but he did with her.
How could he not? She was everything he wanted. Everything he needed.
Kenshi will not tell her everything on the very first date. His past runs deep, as well as its scars.
He does not want to scare her away, so he plays it cool.
He is a sweetie, he will bring her beautiful flowers and watch her face light up.
It makes him chuckle and feel warm.
Since attempting his searches for Sento, he put his love life on hold.
So he is a little out of touch with that side of him.
He will go to Johnny for advice on keeping her interested, as well as to make her happier.
Seeing her happy makes Kenshi happy.
Kenshi does not make an effort to cover his tattoos. Yes, they are a part of his past but they are engraved on his skin.
There’s nothing he can do about it. He’s not insecure about it.
Is he proud? No. But insecure? No, not at all.
Sometimes she will trace the patterns with her gentle finger tips as he sighs contently.
She makes him feel at peace despite all of his mistakes.
When Kenshi loses his sight, she is inconsolable. She hates to see her lover in so much pain.
Kenshi had to adjust very quickly, and Sento was a huge help.
When he isn’t using Sento, like if he’s relaxing or lounging around, he will rely on his other senses to help him get around.
Since losing his sight, his other senses heightened.
At first, his s/o did need to help him with a few things such as getting into the shower without falling or getting around, but Kenshi was quick to adjust and get around on his own.
He may be blind but that doesn’t mean he is completely disabled.
Sometimes Kenshi will take off his blindfold and at first he was skeptical as he did not want to scare his s/o, but she insisted on it.
She thinks Kenshi is just as handsome as the day she met him, with empty eye sockets and all.
Kenshi is not insecure about his eye sockets, he is just concerned for his s/o getting scared or grossed out.
But she is neither, she loves that Kenshi is comfortable enough to do that with her. It makes her feel special.
After establishing the beginning of their relationship, Kenshi sits down with his s/o and tells her about his Yakuza past.
He understands if she does not want anything to do with him. It’s a scary life and he would hate for her to be in any danger.
So he gives her the option to leave and never come back.
But she doesn’t.
She grabs Kenshi’s hands and tells him that she will stick by him no matter what his past entails. She fell in love with every part of him, his past did not concern her.
What mattered to her was their future together.
This was relieving to Kenshi. He felt accepted and his love for her ran much deeper after this conversation.
She is everything to him, he would do anything and everything to protect her.
With his senses being heightened, he can feel when she is staring at him.
At first he was a little nervous as to why she was staring at him so much until he asked her, and she explained that she thought he was so handsome that she could not help but stare.
This flustered Kenshi and he was stuttering just a little bit, but he had a smile on his lips with a small blush dusting his cheeks.
She never failed to make him smile.
Kenshi did not plan to fall in love, but boy did he fall hard.
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mothercetrion · 8 months
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I got bored and decided to do this OTP ask meme with Johnshi. enjoy!
1) Who rocks the Ferris Wheel seat and who flips out and begs them to stop? Johnny. he is a bit immature and childish sometimes, and being on a Ferris wheel just brings it out. Kenshi is likely irritated at first, but it grows on him quickly.
2) Who is always horny and will have sex at any time, at any place? Johnny. he has a big house, and he loves to experiment. Kenshi is open to trying, but he loves having sex in Johnny's bed the most.
3) Who is more into taking showers/baths together? Who tries to make it relaxing and who tries to make it sexy time? before they get together, Kenshi typically showers, and Johnny mostly showers with the occasional bath (self-care!). after they get together, Johnny is the one to suggest a bath together, and Kenshi agrees after some consideration. it's honestly kind of nice! they're more likely to shower together though; it takes less time to prepare and they can be physically closer together. regardless, they like doing either together, though Johnny likes it more.
4) Who likes to walk around the house naked and who tells the other to go put some clothes on? Johnny loves not wearing clothes, and he's more likely to have a shirt off than to a shirt on. we've seen him shirtless in damn near every game, after all. Kenshi doesn't mind it, however.
5) Who sleeps on the couch when they get into a fight? Kenshi. he is more likely to storm out in a fight, so he'll just go to the couch. sometimes, Johnny will go after him immediately, but other times, he knows that Kenshi needs some space and leaves him there for the night.
6) Who takes photos of the other while they sleep? Johnny. he is convinced that Kenshi is the sexiest man on the planet, plus he needs pictures to prove to social media that his boyfriend is super hot! Kenshi doesn't like making too many social media appearances, but he's on there a few times. regardless, photos of Kenshi sleeping are in abundance on Johnny's phone.
7) Who said “I love you” first? and who ends their arguments in a fight with “Because I love you”? Johnny has said "I love you" first in every relationship he's been in…except his relationship with Kenshi. after a difficult night for Kenshi (nightmares are not fun), he and Johnny are lying together in bed, and Kenshi suddenly gets the courage to tell him how he truly feels. Johnny is stunned, but he reciprocates immediately and admits that he's known for a while. Kenshi will also end arguments with "because I love you" when his protectiveness or his worries over Johnny's safety kick in. the argument will start loud, as arguments tend to do, but Kenshi's voice gets softer and quieter when he tells Johnny that he wants him to be safe because he wants him to come home and he loves him. Johnny is touched.
8) Who likes to wear the other's sweatshirts? Kenshi loves wearing Johnny's clothes, mostly his T-shirts. Johhny goes absolutely nuts seeing Kenshi wear anything that he owns.
9) Who wakes the other up in the middle of the night to tell them a cool dream they had? Who has the most nightmares, and who sings them back to sleep after? neither wakes the other, but if Johnny has a cool dream, he'll tell Kenshi about it in the morning. Kenshi definitely has more nightmares than Johnny. dreams of his Yakuza days or his blinding can appear out of nowhere, and they always leave him terribly shaken (or in pain, depending on the extent of the dream). Johnny will hold him close and tell him stories from throughout his career until he calms down and/or falls asleep. the sound of Johnny's voice is shockingly comforting.
10) Who is more likely to cheat at games? Johnny. he likes winning, and he will pull all the punches to make it happen. Kenshi doesn't catch him at first, but when he does, he's pissed. Johnny always swears that he'll stop, but it's only temporary.
11) Who makes fun of the other for having a crush on them, and who has to remind them that they are in a relationship? Johnny is a teasing bastard, but Kenshi secretly loves it. Johnny will catch Kenshi looking just a little too happy around him, and he'll ask if he has a crush on him. Kenshi counters that they're dating, but he loves the conversations when they happen.
12) Who starts a food fight in the kitchen? Johnny. again, he's immature and childish. however, he does more of the cooking between them, so any fights are pretty rare. if he makes a mess, he'll make it worse if he's in a teasing mood.
13) Who initiates duets? and who is the better singer? most of the time, Johnny will initiate a duet if they're in a car together. Kenshi is less likely to sing along unless they're at home, singing quietly to one another in Johnny's bedroom or their kitchen late at night. they both can sing, but Kenshi is a shockingly good singer, though he denies it.
14) Who starts the hand-holding? Who grabs the other's butt? Who slides their arm around their waist? Who likes to put their fingers in the belt loops? Johnny initially started the hand-holding, but Kenshi gets a lot more confident in initiating it later in their relationship. they only grab butts in absolute privacy, but Johnny is more likely. both of them will wrap an arm around the other's waist and put their fingers in the belt loops of their pants. it's usually to pull them closer when they're hugging and/or kissing.
15) Who likes to write the other's name on their wrist? neither. they keep mementos/reminders of one another in different ways when they're not together.
16) Who is more seductive when they are drunk? and who is louder in bed? Kenshi is much more seductive after he's gotten drunk. Johnny is too, but Kenshi's seductiveness increases a lot more than Johnny's, so it's more noticeable. Johnny is so damn loud when he's in bed, and he cannot help it. however, Kenshi loves that and can't get enough, and he will do anything to keep Johnny happy, even at the cost of another one of his senses.
17) Who is more protective? Kenshi. he will do whatever he needs to do to keep Johnny safe from the Yakuza, even if it means tapping back into his gangster/criminal side. Johnny thinks that Kenshi's protectiveness is incredibly sexy, but he assures him that he will be safe.
18) Who talks to the other while they are sleeping? Johnny (and secretly Kenshi). if Johnny's awake and he's bored, he'll talk to Kenshi until he gets tired. sometimes though, he'll tell Kenshi how proud of him he is and how grateful he is to have him as a boyfriend. Kenshi will whisper how much he loves Johnny when he knows the actor can't hear him.
19) Who drives and who has the window seat? (ignoring how obvious this one is for the sake of the game LMAO) Kenshi had a license before he was blinded, and every now and then, Johnny can convince him to drive with Sento strapped to his back and sunglasses on his face. most of the time, though, Johnny drives. he likes it a lot, and Kenshi likes being in the passenger seat.
20) Who falls asleep in the other's lap and who carries them to bed? both of them! they're both super busy, and they're both tired after a long day. Johnny is more likely to fall asleep on Kenshi's lap, in the middle of telling Kenshi about his day, but Kenshi is thankfully very strong. if Kenshi falls asleep, he usually wakes up in the middle of Johnny carrying him, and he will stumble up the stairs and fall asleep within seconds of hitting the bed.
21) Who cuts the other's hair? neither. Johnny does not trust anyone but his hairdresser with his hair, and Kenshi feels the same way. however, they'll brush the other's hair (or run their fingers through it) all day.
22) Who is super bad at sexting? and who sends them encouraging messages throughout the day? both? Kenshi is bad at sexting because it's unfamiliar, and Johnny is bad at sexting because some of the things he will send Kenshi are not things you send over text. Johnny is more likely to send an encouraging text, especially if he knows Kenshi will be busy and/or stressed. they always help cheer Kenshi up.
23) Who thinks they are not good enough for the other's love? and who’s more afraid of losing the other? Who thinks they keep messing up, only for the other to tell them they don’t need to worry? Johnny is a recently divorced, faltering celebrity. he's not getting the gigs he needs to keep up the image that he wants to. sometimes he feels like Kenshi deserves a lot better than that. Kenshi assures him that being with Johnny is what he wants, regardless of if he's super famous. Kenshi is terrified of the Yakuza somehow getting a hold of Johnny to get back at him for leaving, hence his protective side. Johnny always assures him that he can protect himself and will let him know if something is going on that could be because of the Yakuza. I feel like Johnny would be a little more concerned about messing up considering his track record, but "messing up" in a relationship comes with the territory. both of them can be pretty different, and neither of them has had a partner quite like the other before. but they're willing to learn!
24) Who starts random slow dancing with the other in the kitchen? Who holds the other just above the ground and kisses them? Johnny. he loves dancing, but he loves dancing with Kenshi more. they'll hold one another close and sway as long as they can, listening to soft music from one of their phones. they're so close to the same height that lifting one another just off the ground is difficult, but they both love kissing when they're alone like this.
25) Who says shitty puns and sex jokes just to see the other giggle and blush? Johnny. he's much more pun-savvy than Kenshi. many puns will land and make Kenshi laugh, but others, like sex jokes, will not make him laugh…until they're in the bedroom, and then Johnny's jokes hit much differently (in the best way) and leave him flustered as hell.
26) Who kissed first? Johnny. he's more likely to make a physical move than Kenshi is, and he's the one to initiate that first kiss after a romantic evening at Johnny's house. Kenshi was surprised, but he was quick to reciprocate.
27) Who orders takeout at two in the morning? and who wakes the other up at three in the morning to go downstairs with them to get a glass of water because it’s too dark? Johnny gets bored if he can't sleep. the smell and/or sound of Johnny eating at his desk or in the damn bed will wake Kenshi, but Johnny always gets a serving for him (just in case he wakes up). neither will wake the other to go downstairs for water, but if they're both awake, they'll go together.
28) Who writes poems/stories and love songs about the other? Do they sing the songs they write for them? Johnny is the more creative type, and he can be poetic if he really wants to be. he's not likely to share it with Kenshi unless it's perfect in his eyes, and that's rare since it's a less familiar medium to him.
29) Who does some crazy stunt to try and impress the other and who ends up driving them to the emergency room after it backfires? they're both pretty reckless, but Johnny has gotten hurt more since their relationship began. Kenshi isn't impressed when he pulls off something, but he will help him if he gets hurt, all while chastising him for his stupidity. however, Kenshi is a lot more worried if Johnny gets hurt on set, which has happened before since he does his own stunts. it usually doesn't require a hospital visit by the time Kenshi sees him, but he'll dote on him and force him to rest all the same.
30) Who is embarrassed when they have to wear their glasses and who thinks they look super cute? Kenshi obviously doesn't need glasses, and Johnny doesn't either, buuuuut Johnny does wear sunglasses! and sometimes when they're in public, Johnny will lend Kenshi a pair so he can blend in. Johnny thinks he looks great.
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glitterinmyveinss · 5 months
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// say yes to heaven //
johnny knoxville x reader
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authors note: Johnny goes by PJ, some things might be innacurate apologies in advance, mentions of homophobic slurs (i can say it)
❥༄ It's a warm july evening, the sunset sky looks like cotton candy, the kids are still out playing, and me and pj are on the steps of his trailer drinking some cold beers. i've known pj ever since me n my mom first moved to Tennesse at age 5. i ponder back on that moment, the memory still fresh in my mind.
❥༄ "y/n! get your boxes from the back of the uhaul girl!" my mother shouted. i sighed and made my way from the empty field to the back of the van we came in while my mother put her belongings inside our new home. a boy around my age with dark chocolate hair, warm brown eyes, and a horrendous haircut came up to me. "are you my new neighbors?" he asked enthusiastically. i nodded shyly. "cool! i'm pj by the way. my trailers right there." i glanced over to where he was pointing. i noticed a brown trailer with white stripes, white steps, and various beer cans and cigarette butts littering the patch of grass in front. i turned back to him and introduced myself back. "my names y/n. my parents divorced so we moved here." "mine are divorced too! wanna be friends?" we've been inseparable ever since.
❥༄ i set down my can with a sigh and put my hands in my hair. i've lived in the same trailer ever since, things never really got better for me and my mom. i started working at the local jcpennys working the beauty department but that's it, and Pjs been working with his dad at his auto repair shop ever since we were 13. pj turned to look at me, his brows furrowed and his eyes fixated on me. "what's troublin' you doll?" i picked my head up with a sad smile. i loved when he called me that. "whens it gonna get better peej?" i let out a dry chuckle. "i mean are we just gonna stay in this town our whole lives? living pay check to pay check?" he huffed and turned away from me. "i don't know y/n...why are you bringing this up?" "because i don't want that to be my life pj. maybe it was good for our parents but...don't you want different?" he took another sip from his can and a long drag from his cigarette and was quiet for a while. "of course i want different but it's not that simple y/n...plus the world needs workers like us and our parents anyway." i couldnt belive what he was saying. it was so out of character for him. he was never one to conform to society despite us growing up in the south where you'd get called a fag for just about anything. but people didn't care when it came to pj. he could be wearing a tutu and still look cool. that's why i didn't understand why he was giving up his future to stay in a town like this when the world had so much more to offer him, to offer us. "you know, i don't get you sometimes pj." i threw my can on the porch and sat up. "when are you gonna wake up y/n?" he shouted at me. i looked at him wint utter confusion painted on my face. he stared back at me with those piercing dark eyes. anytime i looked into them, it was like i was stuck in place, and like the rest of the world was no more, just me and pj. "w-what do you mean?" i spoke. he scoffed at me and continued, still shouting. "do you think it's that easy? that we can just leave this all behind and start a new life like that?" i huffed in frustration and crossed my arms, "that's not what i meant and you know it. i just meant that we both have dreams pj. what about your writing?" he turned away from me and shook his head, his eyes were even darker now due to his mood. i noticed there were imprints on his can due to his grip on it. "what about my writing y/n? you heard my dad." a while ago, pj shared with his dad his dreams of being a writer, and how he wanted to write for this magazine in LA, just to get his foot out the door. his dad didn't take it well at all and said he better get the wrench he asked for because writing won't pay the bills. i stayed quiet, not knowing what to say. pj got up to stomp his cigarette out. when he was done he locked eyes with me. he stared at me with such intensity, it made my knees buckle and my stomach flip. maybe it's a good thing he wore shades 99.9% of the time. i wanted nothing more than to reach out and hug him, let him know that anyone who doubted him didn't know what they were talking about. that me and him could make it on our own. but we were just friends. and he was even more stubborn drunk than he was sober. he turned to go inside then stopped. "you better get home y/n...it's getting dark." i felt the tears sting the corners of my eyes, like bees in the summer time. this wasn't the first time we fought like this, but it's the first time he didn't invite me in afterwards. usually he'd say something along the lines of sorry, or how he has some left over apple pie he needs help eating, really he would say any excuse. but this time, it was like he wanted nothing to do with me. "you're a coward philip and you know it." i shouted. "you have just as much potential as anyone else in this world to do something great, but you're scared!" he stayed with his back towards me, his fists clenched and his head low. "leave y/n."
❥༄ i stared at him until my vision became blurry with tears, which didn't take long. i've always been emotional. i ran away from him, in the direction of our old elementary. i always went there when things became too much to handle and i just needed somewhere to escape to. once i got there i sat on the old rusty swings that squeaked each time you swayed. i felt like shit. maybe i was too hard on pj. it's just that all i wanted was for me and him to have a good future. maybe the reason why i got so mad was because i imagined our futures would be us as lovers, not best friends. i wish i brought one of those beers before i left. i heard rustling coming from my left side and when i turned to look, i saw pj. i turned away and stared at the ground. it was quiet for a while while he sat on the swing beside me. "i'm sorry doll. i didn't mean to yell at you like that, you know how i get when i drink coors." i began to sob as i spoke, "no peej i'm sorry, i was too hard on you." i put my head in my hands and hid my face. pjs eyes scrunched up as he began laughing at me. "oh come on y/n, no need to bring out the water works. we're all good girl" he moved his hand and began rubbing my back. i sniffled and picked my head up, turning to him with a small smile that he returned.
❥༄ it was like that for a while. just me and pj swaying back and forth, till he spoke up. "you know i'm not a coward y/n..." i faced him and frantically began explaining myself. "i know pj i'm sorry it's j-" he cut me off. "the only reason why i'm not doing what i want is because... i wanna keep you close to me." i stayed staring at him. my eyes wider than usual, and my lips tucked between my teeth. "the magazine i wanna write for is based in LA. that means i would have to move there." i remained quiet. he turned to look at me. "come on y/n say some-" it was probably the alcohol more than me, but out of no where, i decided to kiss him. his lips were warm snd soft, i could still taste the cigarettes and coors on his breath. i felt euphoric and nauseous all at once. i pulled away awkwardly and faced him. "i'm sorry peej, i don't know-" he cupped the side of my face and pulled me in for a second kiss. after a minute we pulled away, but we were stuck staring at eachother, like one would disappear if the other dared to look away. "i'll go with you." i spoke, barely above a whisper. pj scrunched his face in confusion. "pardon?" i rolled my eyes at him. sometimes he was such an airhead. "i'll go with you to LA. just say the word and i'll go pj." he stared at me with a goofy crooked smile and picked me up from the swing. i squealed as he threw me over his shoulder. "let's start packing then. we'll get the first flight out as soon as we're done." even though i was upside down and felt dizzy, i couldn't be happier.
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