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#control yourself john
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Still can't stop thinking about the way John was looking at Major Sholto at the wedding.
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Look at that smile! Like isn't he supposed to be looking at his wife in that way? That's his own goddamned wedding after all! 😭
ASDFDSDAFFDA HONESTLY.
John gives more care and love to the men in his life than his own goddamned wife. I SWEAR TO GOD John's probably looked at Greg this way too at some point (I mean, who WOULDN'T, hnng).
ANYWAY, thanks for sharing, you've murdered me.
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he gives great gifts
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Price/Reader - TW: remote vibrator, minor female ejaculation
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“Hey, love, I’m home,” Price’s voice called out to you, summoning you to the front door. 
He was carrying all of your packages and mail, along with his rucksack, home for the weekend. You took the mail, helping him leave the worries of the day at the door to join you in the kitchen. You were making his favorite, chicken spaghetti, and you just started the oven. 
Your captain sat at the island counter, opening up the mail and sorting out the bills. He kissed you as you walked past him, his mustache tickling your lip and cheek
“Mm,” he moaned, “How was your day?”
“Good,” you smiled, flirting with him, “Missed you, though. How was yours? Any news from Laswell?”
“No, not yet. Still waiting on the intel. Oh, hey, it came!” He lit up, tearing into a small package with his knife.
“What’s that?” You asked over your shoulder, bending to put the chicken in the oven. 
“Bought you an early birthday present. Come see,” he was holding a black box, lifting the lid to reveal the prize inside. 
“John, I thought we said no gifts? What did you… oh, my God. Is that what I think it is?”
“Yeah,” he smiled like he had just won a medal, prideful and obviously chuffed, “...and it has a remote.”
You were staring at a lime green, silicone dildo. It was shaped like a curved smile, one large end for insertion and the other smaller end to be nestled on top of your clit. 
“A remote?” You asked, taking out the toy and feeling its smoothness in your hands. It was lightweight, but very solid. It seemed expensive, well-crafted, and like John had spent way too much money on you, as usual.
It buzzed in your hands, coming alive with a low rumble. It shocked you, and you almost dropped it.
“Oh, my God!” You laughed, “What was that?”
He held up a matching lime green remote. It was small, like a car fob, and it had a few different buttons to choose from. Price’s face was full of mischief,
“Put it in, love.”
“I’m making dinner,” you protested, but you didn’t put it down. 
“So?” He whispered darkly, dragging your hips toward him, kissing you deeply, licking your mouth and leaving little love bites down the side of your neck.
You giggled, smiling sweetly. He made it so easy to give in to him. You sighed,
“Okay, okay. Help me put it in, honey.”
Price put the remote down and slid your pants down to your thighs, pulling your panties down with them. He took the toy from you and opened the little packet of lube that came in the pouch, coating the thick end. He hesitated, slipping his own finger into you first, finding you a little too wet and already turned on. 
He made a face, full of delighted surprise, teasing you,
“Someone’s excited, hm?”
Impatient, he slid the toy into you gently, fitting it at your entrance and pressing it up into you. He pulled it back out again and used it to fuck you for a few strokes, making you moan quietly, leaning forward to steady yourself on his huge forearm. 
“Mm,” he groaned, “You like that, love?”
“Yeah,” you gasped.
He settled it all the way in and made sure the front was in the right place before replacing your panties and your leggings back up around your waist. You kissed him again, and went back into the kitchen to finish up with dinner. 
The excitement of knowing he could control your pleasure was building inside of you. You didn’t see the remote on the countertop, and he was busy recycling the boxes, so you thought you were safe. You leaned down again to check the chicken, and then you almost came out of your skin as the toy came alive inside of you. 
Price was unbothered, pouring a few fingers of whisky into his glass, innocently. He saw you looking at him and smiled knowingly, taking a long swig of the amber liquid into his mouth. You glared, but you needed to put the pasta on to boil. So, you turned back around to grab a pot. 
Inside of you, the toy buzzed, low and rumbling, shaking your clit and rattling against your g-spot in tandem, freezing you in place, riding out the waves of sensation. You struggled to bring yourself back to your task, but you wanted to play along, so you brought the pot over to the sink, panting, trying to work through the blinding pleasure, filling the pot with warm water. You had a few seconds to wait for it to reach the top, so you closed your eyes, reveling in the vibrations. 
You let out a moan, eyes still wrenched shut, hands on either side of the sink. 
“Um, love?” Price interrupted your lust, pointing to the pot which was now overflowing.
“Oh, shit,” you turned off the tap, and managed to pour out some of the water without too much trouble.
However, as you turned to walk it back over to the stove, he turned up the intensity. There was now some sort of… rotation… happening inside of you. It honestly felt like you were being fucked, like a cock was thrusting up into you, punishing your core. You stopped in your tracks, gripping the heavy pot for dear life, moaning in full volume. 
“John!”
Everything stopped. You gasped, your eyes flitting to him immediately. The captain was grinning from ear to ear, drinking his whisky and enjoying the show. He chuckled,
“What is it? You alright?” 
You laughed in short, panting breaths, rolled your eyes at him, and put the pot down to open the pantry for the spaghetti. When you reached for the door handle, the sensations were back, sending bolts of pleasure through your pussy, making your panties damp as you gushed out around the unrelenting dildo. You grabbed the handle tighter, steadying yourself against the frame of the door, resting your body against it, keening like a paid whore. Just as you were about to tumble over the edge, inches away from coming, it stopped again. 
“John Price,” you turned toward him, eyes wild, “You did not just - ”
“I’m starving,” he said casually, not even looking in your direction, pretending to scroll through his phone, “Think you��ll have dinner ready soon, love?”
You groaned, opening the door and reaching for the pasta boxes, waiting for him to click the button again. 
There was nothing. 
You waited in the pantry a little longer, baiting him.
Nothing. Not even a little jiggle. 
You barged out of the pantry, and as soon as he saw you, you were sent to your knees. He’d turned whatever setting it was all the way up. You dropped the pasta boxes, crawling on the floor of the kitchen like an animal, screaming out lurid cries and feeling your thighs tremble from the onslaught. 
“Did you think I would let you hide in there where I couldn’t see you?” His question was delivered with cold cruelty. He had left his seat and was now standing over you, remote in hand, watching you suffer at his feet. You begged for mercy,
“Baby, please, God… I need… oh, fuck!”
“Pick up the pasta. Now,” He commanded you, his voice loud and oppressive.
“John, please,” you clutched at the leg of his jeans, feeling like you were coming in waves and waves and waves. 
He reached down with his empty hand and grabbed you by the hair at the base of your skull, forcing you to look up at him, 
“I said: Pick. Up. The. Pasta.”
“Okay, okay…” You were trying to breathe. You let go of his pant leg and reached for the boxes, feeling your pussy clench around the toy as it fucked the life out of you. 
Your hands were shaking. The dry spaghetti made the sound of cheap maracas, clattering out of the box and splashing in the boiling water. You tried to open the second box, and you couldn’t. Your hands weren’t following your commands.
Price’s eyes bore into you as he stood next to you, watching you come apart under his control. Very casually, he took the box from you, opened it, and handed it back to you. He was breathing hard, as if he, too, was being subjected to the same sensations. 
Unable to stop yourself, you looked down at his cock. It was pressing against his pants, making a perfect outline of itself, hard as a stone. He caught you looking and palmed himself over the top of the fabric, squeezing the head to relieve some of the tension. 
You were practically drooling for him. But, you went back to the meal, putting the other box of pasta in as gently as you could. The way that this toy was fucking you almost reminded you of having John’s fingers in you while he sucked on your clit. The vibrations and steady rocking movements brought you to completion in a way where you couldn’t tell where one orgasm ended and the other began. 
As you turned your back to face Price, he moved toward you, pulling you away from the stove and shoving you up against the countertop. He snaked his hand between your legs and pushed up on the toy, forcing it to fuck you deeper than normally possible, shoving it in you mercilessly. 
“John, I’m going to come, please!”
You came, but it was unique. You felt like you were wetting yourself, coming so hard that fluid was squirting out of you, soaking your panties and leggings, along with John’s invasive hand. 
“Mm, fuck,” he growled in your ear, “Did you just squirt for me? Bloody fucking hell.”
“I don’t…” you couldn’t form coherent thoughts, “I dunno. John, help me, please…”
“Sweet girl, do you need this cock?” he pulled your bottoms down, trapping your knees with them, and held you up by your waist. He turned off the vibrator and tugged it out of you gently. You were so slick that it slid out of you without much resistance. Your pussy was throbbing, flooded with come, and desperate for a familiar sort of relief. 
“Yes, please, God,” you begged, tears in the corners of your eyes. 
“Alright, love,” he let you feel his hot head at your pulsating entrance, ready to sink into you, “It’s alright, I'm here now.”
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Reblogs and comments deeply appreciated!
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midnightarcheress · 2 months
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cowgirl
a little bar challenge characters: simon 'ghost' riley, john 'soap' mactavish, kyle 'gaz' garrick, john price cw: nsfw, fem!reader, tf141 lusting for their teammate, idk there's nothing much
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"i'm not going on that!" you exclaimed, crossing your arms at the man in front of you.
the buzzing of a bar after a successful mission was a familiar sound for the task force. the glasses clinking, the chatter of old and new friends, the horrible background music, and the abhorrent pick-up lines would, weirdly enough, calm your nerves after days covered in heavy gear and harboring pent-up stress. or maybe the source of your mind's serenity was just the alcohol already flowing on your bloodstream, courtesy of the three tequila shots you were - willingly - forced into drinking.
"come on, bonnie, it will be fun!" Soap said, pointing at the sign propped above the mechanical bull, "besides, ye can win the hat for us."
you scoffed, glancing at the direction the scot referred, right after seeing another contender fall to the bouncy mat under the bull, followed by a string of boo's from the watchful horde. bold red lettering stated 'break the bar's record and win a cowboy hat!', tempting drunk custumers into fooling themselves for a measly prize.
"i bet she's scared," Gaz prompted, adding fuel to Johnny's pleas, "don't wanna be mocked by the crowd."
you rolled your eyes in response, "i'm not scared, Gaz, i just don't see what all the fuss is about. why don't you do it?"
"nuh-uh, don't turn this on me, missy. you're the one being challenged here," he retorted, earning a soundful hum from Soap, "tell you this, if you manage to stay there for a full minute, i'll pay you a twenty. don't even have to stand the whole three minutes of the record."
Ghost and Price stayed quiet during the whole exchange, unimpressed by the trio's shenanigans. they had endured too many drinking competitions, bets, dares, arguments and blatantly stupid ideas coming from the youngsters of the squad over the years, so nothing fazed the two superiors. underneath their apathy, however, lied a real sense of entertainment, illustrated by discreet smirks after particularly dumb comments - usually dropped by Soap's mouth.
"make it a fifty and we have a deal." you smirked, sipping from your beer pint. if you were gonna humiliate yourself in public, it better be for real cash.
"fifty if you break the record, how does that sound?"
after a second of pondering and a few too many glances at the machine's movements, studying it meticulously to engrave how to properly react when the controller jolts the apparatus from side to side, you uttered a hesitant yes, winning a cheerful chant from your friends and some whistles from the audience. 
you stepped on the mat and quickly hopped on the mechanical bull, adjusting your legs around the fake saddle. it shouldn't be that hard, right? the initial movements were easy - just holding on the chord and letting the laws of motion do the work. you didn't want to admit, but it was actually pretty fun.
eventually, the controller decided he was being too gentle and started picking up the pace, making your body rock back and forth on bull, decision that knocked the air out of your lungs for a split second, before you composed yourself and tightened your grip on the handles like your life depended on it. the crowd shouted gleefully, encouraging you to push through, despite a few snarky comments preying on your fall, just the expected.
what you didn't expect - and neither realized - was the way your teammates were reacting.
Gaz stood there with his jaw almost reaching the floor, being impressed not only by your sturdy grip, but mostly by the way your back arched when the machine tilted forward, defining your muscles through the skin-tight fabric of your shirt. even if you didn't endure the whole minute from the initial bet, he was willing to give you his entire wallet, just to watch you ride it again, and definitely not to imagine you bouncing on his lap for a little longer.
Soap, who has always been aware of your beauty, suddenly had to sit down after feeling his pants tighten at the sight of your plump ass jiggling due the repeated impacts on the bull's back, in desperate attempts to grind yourself. in addition, the tiniest bit of your lacy underwear peeking out of the dark jeans that hugged your hips flawlessly wasn't helping with his situation.
the daring smile that painted your lips, juxtaposing the concentrated frown of your eyes as you tried your best to not fall during an exceptionally wild movement, only supplied Ghost's cock with an overflow of blood, twitching at the view of your plush thighs clenching around the bucking machine whenever it defied your determination by leaning too much on the sides, shaking to make you collapse on the mat.
Price, however, acted as gentleman the whole time, just admiring your ability and strength to stay clutched to the unpredictable machinery. that, of course, was only until he got a view of your perfectly round tits, taunting the edges of your low-cut top and threatening to spill out at any given minute, ready to give him a real show. the adrenaline-filled flush that gave your cheeks an innocent pink hue, felt very similar to the sudden rush on his shaft that made your captain almost choke on his scotch.
three minutes and forty-seven seconds.
"that was so much fun!" your giggly shout and stumbling figure getting closer to the group was enough to snap the men out of their trance. they quickly took notice of your wide grin and the brown cowboy hat placed on your head, followed by the loud screaming of the public that just witnessed the bar's record being broken. 
"come on, pay up, Gaz." you said, sticking your palm to receive your well deserved money in a contained victory dance.
the four men glanced at each other, gathering the courage to speak up after your little performance that had them weak on the knees for a colleague. 
"didn't think you had it in ye, bonnie." Soap stated as Gaz reached for the wallet in his back pocket, almost considering giving you a fat tip for the spectacle. the sergeants were certainly doing a poor job in hiding the blush on their cheeks and small beads of sweat on their foreheads, consequence of trying to ignore the tent formed on their trousers.
your superiors, on the contrary, remained quiet and seemingly undisturbed by the previous scene, silently sipping from their glasses but still watching the chatting trio. only now, they wouldn't dare to get up and risk the others - specifically you - noticing their throbbing cocks marking their pants, yearning for the touch of your silky flesh.
after collecting your gains, you rapidly swayed to the bar counter, ordering a new drink with your sweet, sweet money, while the task force members ultimately etched the sight of you riding the mechanical bull in the deepest corner of their brains - saving the images for the great release when you all get back to base.
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okay this is my first official thingy i feel so silly. also english is not my first language so...
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soaps-mohawk · 2 months
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Cherry Red, Crimson Blood
Chapter 14: The Aftermath
Summary: Your heat is over, now all that's left to do is heal.
Pairings: Poly 141 x reader, Price x Gaz
Word Count: 5100 words
Warnings: NSFW, 18+, smut, handjobs, heat cycles, mating cycles, brief medical stuff, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, language, fluff, angst, nightmares, PTSD
A/N: Surprise!! Got this one done super early because I kind of just want to move forward with this fic and get to more exciting things so enjoy this bonus chapter. This weekend's update might come a day late, we'll see. Not entirely happy with this one, but it's really just setting up the next part so...yeah. Enjoy!!
Want early access to chapters, as well as other bonus content? Consider supporting me on Patreon.
MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->
(Gif found on Google)
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A rumbling purr vibrates in your chest. It’s a purr of contentment, of satisfaction. You’re warm, not like you had been nine days ago when your heat started, though. This is a comfortable warmth, a cozy warmth. You’re under blankets in your nest, pressed against a bare chest. You trail your fingers along smooth skin until you hit a familiar scar slicing through the skin, right below his clavicle. 
“Got that one outside a bar in Manchester.” 
You pause in your movements, tilting your head to look up at John. He’s staring down at you, his own fingers starting to trace a pattern on your back. 
“Was years ago. Some bloke was getting rowdy inside. Pulled him out to try and talk him down, and he pulled a knife on me.” 
“I can imagine what you did in response.” You murmur, laying your head back on his chest. 
John huffs out a laugh. “Left him with a couple missing teeth, and quite the dent in his head.” He smooths a hand over your side. “You feeling alright?” 
You hum in response. Your eyes feel dry and puffy from crying, and you’re terribly thirsty. You’re beginning to feel the ache in your body again, the steady pulse of pain between your legs starting up. “Hurting again.” You murmur, smacking your lips. “Kinda feels like I swallowed sand too.” 
“Almost time for another muscle relaxer.” He says, glancing at his phone before grabbing an electrolyte bottle from the nightstand. 
You push yourself up to sit, joints cracking as you go. You let out a quiet whimper at the ache in your body, eyes filling up with tears again. 
“Easy.” John tries to soothe you, brushing the hair from your face. “You’re alright.” 
“Sorry.” You sniffle, taking the electrolyte bottle. “It’s embarrassing.” 
“It’s not. It’s just a natural part of coming down from a heat.” John says as you gulp down the contents of the bottle. 
“My mom cried after her heats.” You say, putting the cap back on the electrolyte bottle. “I heard her once, when I was like seven or eight. My dad had picked us up from the care center on base. I wanted to see my mom, but their bedroom door was closed. I could hear her inside, crying alone. My dad scolded me, sent me back down the hall when he saw me. It never felt right to me, that she was in there alone like that, but maybe things are different when you have pups.” 
“I don’t think it was right.” John says as you lay back down against his side. He’s tense, limbs stiff even as his arm wraps around your back. 
“There were a lot of things my dad did that I questioned.” You say absentmindedly, tracing circles on John’s stomach to try and calm him. “Maybe it was just that inner part of me that knew I’d be an omega that made me notice it more. My brothers never said anything, but then again, they all presented as alphas.” You shift against John’s side, tucking your head so he can’t see your face. “Maybe I was just unlucky.” 
He grunts, squeezing your shoulder gently. “You can’t control what nature decides.” 
“Can’t control a lot of things.” You say quietly as he tightens his hold around you. “Suppose I am lucky in one regard.” 
“What’s that?” He asks. 
You shift yourself so you’re facing him, tears sliding down your cheeks again. “You’re a really good alpha.” 
He pulls you against his chest again, pressing your face into his neck. “I don’t know if I’d call myself that.” He says, gently stroking your hair. “Just treating you the way you deserve to be treated.” 
“You treat me like I’m a human being.” You sniffle, wetting his skin as you cry. “That’s better than I’ve been treated since I presented.” 
You don’t see the way his brow furrows, the frown tugging at his lips at your words. You do feel the way he tenses for a moment, arms clenching around you before he relaxes again, a quiet purr rumbling through his chest as he soothes you. 
“I haven’t left your side since your heat started.” He says, taking your hand in his. 
“Really?” You ask, brows pinching a bit at his confession. 
He hums. “Except to use the bathroom.” 
“You must be sick of me by now.” You say. 
“Never.” He says, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “You’re my sweet little omega. Could never get sick of you.” 
You let out a soft purring noise, the sound slipping through your lips before you even realize it. Your eyes widen and you push yourself up out of Price’s neck in surprise. “I’ve never made that noise before.” 
Price smiles softly at you, reaching up to stroke your cheek. “Just means you’re happy.” 
“Hmm.” You lay yourself back down against his chest, resting your ear over his heart. You suppose you are happy. 
Or, at the very least, content.
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Standing hurts. 
Your legs feel a bit like jelly and your muscles ache deeply. It’s been almost five days since your heat ended, and yet you still feel like you just ran a marathon with no training beforehand. You know part of it is that you’ve been laid up for almost a week, but after that kind of physical exertion, you needed rest. You had only gotten up to stumble to the bathroom a handful of times, leaning heavily on John to avoid straining your muscles anymore than they already were. 
You should get up and start moving now, though. It will help with the stiffness, you know, and you should get the blood flowing at least a little. 
You’re also starting to go a bit stir crazy cooped up in your room all the time. You can only rearrange your nest so many ways, and you’ve even started to kick John out of the nest, opting to cuddle with your giant bear instead. 
You've showered, finally feeling properly clean for the first time in almost two weeks. You dress yourself, opting for the loosest clothes you own, and forgoing underwear. You’re not sure you can handle anything too tight on your skin yet. 
“Ready?” John asks, standing near the door. 
You nod, putting on your slippers as he opens the door. Arms wrap around you as soon as you step out into the hallway, your feet leaving the floor. 
“She lives!” Johnny exclaims, spinning you around. 
You grunt at the impact of the excited Scotsman, but wrap your arms around him anyway, taking in his citrusy scent. You have missed him, not realizing how boring life would be without him until now. You’ve even missed Ghost a bit, his looming presence making the world seem a little less big. 
“Easy, Johnny.” Ghost scolds the overjoyed beta. “She’s still breakable.” 
“Sorry, kitten.” Johnny says, immediately setting you back on your feet and loosening his grip around you. “Missed ye, is all.” 
“I missed you too.” You smile up at him. 
“Thought ye might never be comin’ out of that room.” He says. “Thought I might have tae go in and save ye.” 
You smirk. “You almost had to. Was starting to feel a bit stir crazy in there.” 
He grins playfully at you. “Well, yer more than welcome to spend the night elsewhere if yer sick of bein’ cooped up.”
“She's definitely not going to be doing any of that for a while.” John says, stepping up behind you. “R&R is the only thing on her schedule right now.” 
Johnny pouts. “But what if I just want tae cuddle?”
“Since when do you ‘just cuddle’?” Ghost asks. 
“I can just cuddle.” Johnny pulls you against his chest again, wrapping his arms around you tightly. “I'll do it for our ‘mega. I’ll prove it right now.” Johnny pulls away from you, steering you towards the rec room. 
“I’ll keep an eye on them.” Ghost says to Price, giving him a look before turning on his heel, following you and Johnny to the rec room. 
Johnny flops down on the couch, pulling you into his lap, wrapping his arms tightly around you. You lean against his chest, breathing in his scent again. It’s refreshing, after being stuck in a room with the same scents. You could never grow tired of Price’s scent, but when it’s all you’ve been able to smell for an extended period, you start to get tired of it. You remember nearly tackling Kyle in an attempt to get a whiff of his scent, but the sting of scent blockers had nearly brought you to tears again. 
You let out a quiet sound as Johnny tilts his head, letting you breathe in his scent directly from the source. You start to purr quietly, nose pressed against his throat. An answering rumble begins in his own chest, his arms tightening even more around you. 
“Smell good.” You murmur, your lips brushing his skin. Goosebumps erupt across his neck, a shudder trailing down his spine. 
“Easy, mutt.” Ghost grumbles from the chair beside the couch, his eyes on you and Johnny. 
“Cannae help it.” Johnny almost whines, trying to ease you away from his neck. He grips your chin as your head lolls, a drowsy smile forming on your face as you blink up at him. “Christ, yer gettin’ scent drunk.” 
“Missed you.” You murmur, your brain quieting to a soft buzz as you lean your head on his shoulder, listening to the quiet rumble in his chest. 
“Missed you too.” He says, his hand dropping from your face. His fingers ghost over the mark on your shoulder, making you twitch in his arms. “Cannae believe yer officially part of the pack. Seems like just yesterday ye were arriving, all shy and timid. Now look at ye. Purring away on my lap with Price’s mark on yer shoulder.” 
Your cheeks warm at his words, a reminder of just how quickly things have changed. It’s only been almost seven weeks since you arrived in their lives. How quickly things have happened, how quickly things have changed. Though, you suppose things could have happened faster. You’re lucky they gave you so much time to adjust. Many alphas would have started the process as soon as you were in their sights. 
They’re not like that, though. They’ve turned your beliefs on their head and changed your perspective entirely. Alphas can be good and caring and don’t just always take what they want. 
You sniffle as tears pool in your eyes again, Johnny looking away from the TV to stare at you.
“What is it? What’s wrong?” He asks, sounding worried. 
“Nothing.” You say, pressing your face against his shoulder. “I’m just crying cause I’m happy.” 
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“I know, this is probably the last thing you want to be doing right now.” Dr. Keller says from the end of the exam table. “But, unfortunately, it is necessary.” 
You’re silently glad for the numbing spray, the pressure still enough to make you wince, but you can’t even imagine the kind of pain you’d be in if you weren’t numb. You wonder how many omegas have to go through this without it, how many are subjected to the horror without any sort of pain relief. 
“And we’re done.” She says, pulling away. “Everything looks good, no tearing or other injuries.” She pulls her gloves off, John helping you lower your legs from the stirrups. “Though, I’d suggest abstaining from any rigorous physical activity for at least another week.” 
Your face warms at the implication of her words. You’re not sure you’d want to anyway, at least not for a while. Aside from the soreness, after six days of near non-stop...activity, you might shrivel up and die if you see a naked man again anytime soon. 
“Do you feel up to chatting today, or would you rather go back to bed?” Dr. Keller asks as John helps you sit up. “Won’t hurt my feelings if you don’t want to.” 
You think about it for a moment, chewing on your lip before you answer. “We can talk.” 
She nods, smiling. “Aright. Take your time, I’ll be in my office when you’re ready.” 
She leaves the room, leaving you and John alone. You move slowly as you get dressed, still a bit sore and stiff. John walks you to the door, wrapping his arms around you before you can enter, pulling you against his chest. 
“Call me, if you need anything.” He says. 
You nod, staring up at him before you lift yourself onto your toes to kiss him. He purrs quietly when your lips touch his, his arms tightening around you for a moment before you pull back, staring up into his eyes for a moment before you turn away, heading into Dr. Keller’s office. 
You take your usual seat, silently grateful for how comfortable the chair is as you sit down. You’ve been avoiding sitting as much as possible, having spent the last few days lounging in bed with John and occasionally Gaz. 
“Comfortable?” Dr. Keller asks. 
You nod. “Yeah. Think this is the most comfortable chair I’ve ever sat in.” 
“Good.” Dr. Keller smiles. “You tell me if you get uncomfortable or if you want to end early, alright?” 
You nod again. “Yeah.” 
She nods, seemingly satisfied with your answer. “So, how are you feeling, aside from the discomfort? Your first heat with your pack, being claimed, that’s a lot all at once.” 
“It is a lot.” You acknowledge, picking at your sweatpants. “I’m still...I don’t know, processing it, I guess? It’s...a big step, but it was always going to happen. That’s why I’m here, right? To be their omega, to be part of their pack.” 
“That is true.” Dr. Keller agrees. “As much as I could say about it, you are right. This was the end goal of this entire experiment. But, how do you feel about it? Are you relieved that it’s over?” 
“Yeah.” You answer. “I’m glad that it’s over, that it’s done with. I...guess I feel lucky too.” You chew on your lip nervously. 
“In what way?” Dr. Keller asks. 
“John’s a...good alpha. I think I knew that before, but...he took care of me. He didn’t hurt me, he’s never forced me into anything.” A small smile tugs at your lips. “They’re all good pack members. Even Ghost.” 
“Good.” Dr. Keller smiles. “I’m glad you feel that way. John is a fantastic alpha. He cares a lot about you and your wellbeing.” 
“He treats me like I’m more than just my status. I feel like...like I’m a person again. Not just something that can serve others. I used to think that's just what omegas were supposed to do. At the institute, that's what we were taught. How to serve. But, I can see now how we do so much more than that.”
Dr. Keller practically beams at you. “That’s great! That’s so great that you’re beginning to discover your place in their pack. I think it will get easier, now that you’re official.” She nods towards your shoulder where your claiming mark now sits. 
You fight the urge to reach up and touch it, curling your fingers around the fabric of your sweatpants instead. It doesn't hurt anymore, other than slight soreness if you lay on that shoulder after a while. The scabs are beginning to come off, revealing the scar that will decorate your skin for the rest of your life, showing proof of your place in Price’s pack as his omega. 
“Do you feel different, being a claimed omega now?” Dr. Keller asks. 
You do feel different. Not just because you're a claimed omega now. There's something else, a sort of connection now that you've never experienced, even with your family. You don't know how to describe it, except for a slight buzzing in the back of your brain that only seems to quiet when you're near John. You don't really notice it until you think about it, and then you can't get it quiet until you're near John again. 
“Yeah.” You finally answer, trying to ignore the buzzing feeling in your brain. 
“The bond,” Dr. Keller says with a grin. “Hard to describe, so I've heard. I've also heard it lessens in intensity with time. Has anything else changed? Any feelings?” 
You shrug. “I guess I feel...better about being here. It’s still not ideal but...I feel happier.” 
“Yeah? Good.” Dr. Keller writes something down. “That makes me glad to hear. You’re getting along with everyone?” 
You nod. “Yeah. I’ve been getting closer to Kyle and Johnny. I know they’ll want to progress our relationships after I’ve healed a bit.” 
“Is that something you want?” 
You nod. It is something you want. Kyle has already seen you in your most vulnerable state, and you know Johnny has been anxiously awaiting his time. You’d even consider getting closer to Ghost, though, that would be entirely up to him and what he wants. You know getting closer to Johnny will inevitably force you and Ghost closer, but you won’t push the alpha’s boundaries. 
That will only end poorly for everyone. 
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John is awake instantly as soon as the knock comes at the door. He calls for them to enter, blinking the sleep from his eyes as he stares blearily at the computer screen in front of him. Simon’s giant form approaches the desk, sinking into the chair across from him. 
“Getting caught up?” Simon asks, looking him over. 
John nods. “Slow progress. Hard being out of commission for six days.” 
“Well, you didn’t miss much excitement. Laswell called a couple times. Kyle talked to her.” 
“That’s what he said.” John leans back in his chair. “Checking up on our girl.” 
“Sent over some things that might interest you as well.” 
“I see that.” John says, glancing at the email in his inbox. One of several hundred unread emails. 
“You look tired.” 
“Think I’m getting old, Simon.” John says, running a hand over his face. “I don't remember things being this rough, coming out of it.” 
“I’ve heard purebreds are different.” 
John gives him a look. “Thank you for holding down the fort.”
Simon shrugs. “Things are going to get difficult now.”
“We have a job to do, above everything else. That was something we knew from the start.” John says. 
“Things were different then.” Simon says. “It's going to be a struggle.”
“We knew that too.” 
“I'm not talking about the omega.” Simon's voice lowers, taking on the low rumble of Ghost. “I'm talking about you.”
John's back stiffens as he stares at his Lieutenant. “This doesn't change anything.”
“It changes everything.” Simon stands from his seat. “Just how much, we won't know until we're in it.” He turns, making his way towards the door. 
“You think you're immune?” John says, making him pause by the door. 
“No. But I've been keeping my distance for a reason.” He turns the handle on the door, turning to look back at John. “One of us has to have a clear head.”
John watches as the door closes, something tickling in the back of his mind. He sighs as he sinks back in his seat, eyes moving to the computer screen and his hundreds of unread emails. 
He closes the browser, shutting down the computer, staring at the screen until the hum of harddrive quiets. His skin is prickling now, thinking back on Simon's words. Of course things have changed. It would be no different had they added a fifth person to the team. He knows leaving will be hard, but they have a job, a duty to perform. That always comes first above all. 
Can he make it come first after this? 
He remembers how different things had felt after he claimed Kyle. His decisions became safer, but his actions became riskier to ensure Kyle's safety. It wasn't that he doubted Kyle's abilities. He knows Kyle is more than capable of taking care of himself. That's why he's on the team. It was his instincts needing to protect his pack, to ensure his beta's safety. 
What is he going to do now that there's an omega involved? 
You won't be going with them, you won't be in the field, but they'll have to leave you behind. It could be weeks before they'd see you again, if they see you again. 
The thought has a sick feeling churning in his stomach. 
Maybe Simon is right. 
Maybe things have changed too much. 
John rises from his seat, his joints cracking. He stretches, groaning quietly at the ache still present in his muscles. It's faded for the most part, but he can still feel it if he's immobile for too long. It's not the worst pain he's ever felt, but it's hard to think of a time he's felt worse. 
Maybe he is getting too old for this. 
He pauses outside Kyle's door, staring down at the knob. He feels bad for what Kyle had to go through the last almost two weeks. He knows it's a natural part of pack life, a natural role for betas, but he still feels guilty. 
“Everything alright?” Kyle's voice breaks through his thoughts. The door is open now. Kyle standing there in nothing but a pair of sweatpants. 
He hadn't even noticed the door open. 
“Yeah.” He clears his throat. “It's nothing. I don't want to bother you.”
“You're not bothering me.” Kyle gives him a worried look. “Just got out of the shower. You can come in, if you want.”
His feet are moving before he even thinks about it, Kyle closing the door behind him. He sinks down into Kyle's desk chair with a heavy sigh. 
“What's on your mind?” Kyle asks, grabbing the jar of coconut oil off his dresser. 
“Too much.” John answers, looking up at him as he approaches. “Everything's going to change now.” 
“Yeah,” Kyle says, setting the jar on his desk before scooping some out. “Things change all the time. We learn and adapt to them. That's what we do.” 
John watches him rub the oil on his face and neck, watching the movements of his hands. He's right. Always the voice of reason and logic. They were trained to adapt to anything. It was their job. They had adapted to your presence easily enough, they could adapt to this new development too. 
It would take time, but they could do it. 
“You're right.” He says, staring at Kyle's glistening skin. He wants to be the one to rub the oil onto his perfect skin, feel the softness of it under his hands. “Thank you. Thank you for everything. You've been a great help through this.” He stops Kyle from grabbing more coconut oil, grabbing some himself. “I owe you a lot for neglecting you these last couple weeks.”
“You weren't neglecting me.” Kyle says, giving him a small smile as John starts rubbing the oil over his shoulders. “You were taking care of our omega.” 
A satisfied growl rumbles through John’s chest at his choice of words. “Now let me take care of you.” 
Kyle’s breath stutters as John moves behind him, rubbing oil onto his back before moving to his chest. His fingers brush over Kyle’s nipples teasingly, pulling a quiet groan from the younger beta’s lips. John leans against his back, slipping his hands down lower, feeling the ridges of his muscles pulled taught from John’s touch. His lips press a soft kiss to the claiming mark on Kyle’s neck, Kyle’s head falling back against John’s shoulder. John growls in approval at the submissive position, his fingers trailing the waistband of Kyle’s sweatpants. 
John gathers more coconut oil on his hand before he slips them under Kyle’s pants, spreading the soft oil across his skin. He’d chosen to forgo briefs under his sweatpants, Price’s hand brushing against Kyle’s half hard cock. 
“Fuck...” Kyle breathes, arching into John’s touch. 
“How many times did you jerk off to the sound of us this last week?” John asks, wrapping his hand around Kyle’s cock. 
“At first I didn’t,” Kyle says, pressing his hips into John’s hand. “Was too focused on making sure nothing went wrong. But then...” He lets out a moan as John begins jerking his cock. “Then I couldn’t take it anymore. The mental image of you two together, the sounds she was making...” Kyle lets out a groan, squeezing his eyes shut as John brushes his thumb over the head of his cock. 
“Wanted to be in there with us, huh?” John asks, hooking his thumbs over the waistband of Kyle’s sweatpants, tugging them down so they drop around his ankles. “Did you imagine yourself right in the middle, taking my cock while she takes yours? Or did you imagine yourself taking my cock while our sweet omega sits on your face?” 
Kyle lets out a moan, his arms reaching back to grip John’s hips as his legs shake with pleasure. John continues to stroke his cock, pressing a gentle kiss to Kyle’s shoulder. 
“We can make that a reality.” John says, squeezing Kyle’s cock, earning a sweet moan in response. “I’ll show you all the places to touch that get her riled up. I’ll show you just how she likes it, how to get her legs shaking around your head.” 
Kyle’s nails bite into his skin, but he doesn’t care as he continues to jerk his cock, getting him closer and closer to the edge. Price drags his thumb over the tip, spreading precum on his skin. 
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Price growls in his ear, pumping his cock faster. “Want to know what she feels like wrapped around your cock?” His teeth nip at Kyle’s ear, his beta’s lips parted as he moans loudly. “Want to know what she tastes like?” 
“Fuck...yes!” Kyle almost whines, hips jerking as he cums, spurting all over John’s hand. “Yes, yes, yes!” 
John works him through his orgasm, continuing to lazily jerk his cock as Kyle twitches in his hold. He presses his nose against Kyle’s throat, inhaling the intoxicating mix of sweat, coconut oil, and his natural briney scent. He presses a soft kiss against his mark, finally stopping his movements to allow Kyle to recover. 
“Good boy.” He praises his beta, wrapping an arm around him to help him to his bed. 
“You really mean it?” Kyle asks as he drops onto the mattress, catching his breath. 
“We’ll have to ask her, of course.” John grabs Kyle’s sweatpants, cleaning off his hand before tossing them in the hamper. He moves back to Kyle’s bed, joining his beta. “But if she’s up for it, then so am I.” 
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You’re warm. The ice pack pressed against your forehead does little to soothe the burning under your skin. You’re thirsty, the two empty plastic bottles on your nightstand were not enough to ease the dryness in your mouth. 
Hands shift the ice pack, pressing it against your cheek. Your mother is there, seated next to your bed diligently. She’s crying, tears sliding down her cheeks, quiet sniffles breaking the silence in the house. 
“I’m sorry.” She whispers, bringing your hand to her lips. “I’m so sorry,” She apologizes, as if it’s her fault, as if she brought this onto you. 
She gasps quietly as the door opens, her back stiffening as your father enters. His face is stern, mouth almost twisted with disgust as he stares at you. It feels wrong, having him invade your space. If you’d had the energy, perhaps you would have been brave enough to protest his presence. 
“Come on.” His voice is gruff, worn down from years of smoking and yelling. “Get up.” 
“No, please-” Your mother attempts to reason with him, but he won’t have it. 
“Shut up.” He snaps at her, and she has no choice but to sit back and be silent. His voice has something tingling in the back of your neck, almost like a warning. There’s nothing you can do, though. You’re far too weak. 
He moves to the side of your bed, grabbing your arm and pulling you up from the comfort of your blankets. The ice pack falls from your head, your skin prickling with warmth almost like it hadn’t been there in the first place. Your brain is sluggish as you try to comprehend what’s happening, your legs giving out as you’re forced upright. You can’t get your body to work, you can’t even force yourself to behave. You want to crawl back under your blankets and lay there for the rest of eternity. 
You whine as you’re dragged from your room, knees knocking on the floor as you attempt to get your feet under you to ease the pain in your shoulder. Your father drags you into the living room, two people you don’t recognize standing next to the front door. 
“Please, please don’t do this!” Your mother pleads with him, right on his heels as he drops you in a heap in front of them. 
“Enough.” Your father snaps at her, looking down at you with disgust. “She’s no daughter of mine.” 
You blink up at him, the words registering through the haze. Tears gather in your eyes as you stare up at your parents, your siblings watching tensely from the living room as the scene unfolds before them. 
“No, no!” You cry as hands close around your arms, lifting you from the floor. “Mama!” You scream, trying to fight them as you’re pulled from your home, your safe space, your family, your pack. 
The last thing you see as the cool air outside washes over your feverish skin is your mother’s grief stricken face before the door closes, locking you out forever. 
You wake falling from bed. You hit the floor with a thud, gasping for breath. You slap your hands over your mouth before the sob can tear from your lips, not wanting to wake the others. You’re shaking, your heart thudding in your chest as tears slip down your cheeks, sliding over your fingers as they squeeze over your mouth, desperately muffling the sound. 
You hold your breath, forcing the pain and the panic and the grief back in. You can’t have these memories coming back to the surface, not now. Not when good things are finally starting to happen. Not when you’ve finally started to gain a glimmer of hope that things might turn out alright for you. You can’t ruin things now. 
You can’t let them see how broken you really are. 
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2K notes · View notes
dante-mightdie · 1 month
Note
Not enough suffering. I need to cry.
The boys just continue to pretend that reader no longer exists. Becoming more of a fly on the wall then a roommate they occasionally fuck.
Soon they just leave you out of everything, dinner? There was not even leftovers for reader, no scrapes left either.
Reader won't leave because they will soon come back around tho right? >:')
god I just love PAIN
c/w: neglect, angst, no happy ending in this one, brief mentions of sex
it becomes a very depressing and very predictable pattern from them. wake up, avoid you then go to sleep. even when they speak to you, they’re never saying much. normally just a reminder that you left dishes in the sink or something mundane
you held out hope for the first few days, especially when simon came slinking over to you one night in the kitchen, bending you over the counter and having his way with you. his rough hands and fast pace made your heart swell solely because you missed having one of them even touch you
but when he just buckled up his trousers and left without a word, you realise you’re still on time out
sometimes you’re asleep before they get home, locked up in the spare room as you sniffle into your pillow. they don’t even come to check on you and you begin to wonder what conclusion they came to on your whereabouts. do they even know you’re at home? do they care?
every day of the month, you and the boys are supposed to set aside a night to go out for a date. seems your invite was lost in the post when you see them all dressed up, talking amongst themselves about the pub they’re going to
“can I come?” you ask, standing in the doorway and playing with your fingers nervously. the laughing and chattering stops instantly, all four heads turning to you as if they didn’t even know you were there. you know what the answer is going to be before any of them say anything
“you won’t like this place. it-“ john starts, and you know he’s about to list off some lazy excuse as to why you won’t like it. as if that was even the point. you don’t go on date nights with them for the actual drinks or decor. you go to spend time with them but they clearly didn’t want you there so you simply wouldn’t go
“whatever.” you mumble, rolling your eyes and turning to leave what was once your shared bedroom so they don’t see the tears in your eyes. you slam the door to the spare bedroom, throwing yourself onto the mattress and sobbing into the pillow
you hear a light tap on the door before it opens. you cease your crying almost instantly, keeping your back turned towards the door. your heart rate picks up and that sick familiar feeling of hope crawls its way back into your chest, “we weren’t saying you can’t come with us. come if you want just don’t make us wait around forever whilst you get ready.”
the sound of kyle’s voice fills the room but you can tell he doesn’t really want to be speaking to you, like simon or the captain told him to come do some damage control so you wouldn’t throw a strop about not being invited. you keep your back turned to him, nuzzling your head further into the pillow
“jus’ go without me.” you sniffle, “it’s not like you really want me there anyway.”
kyle sighs at your words and you hear your door softly click close and everyone’s feet shuffling downstairs before they go out the front door, leaving you alone again
1K notes · View notes
smileysuh · 3 months
Text
Love Plug
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🌙 starring. Johnny Suh x afab!Reader
🔮 preview. “The only things Johnny’s horny for are things that come in green: money and weed. He doesn’t date, babes, and you two are on a date.”
tw/cw. weed/drug use, shotgunning (kissing after John's taken a hit from a joint), reader likes wine, alcohol, plug!Johnny, unprotected sex, oral (f/m receiving) face riding, big dick john, 69-ing, size kink, grinding, multiple reader orgasms, fingering, pussy stretching, dirty talk, praise, ass groping, hand job, creampie/filling kink, cumming together, etc… I pet names: (hers) angel, sweet thing, good girl
👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 7.9k
🍭 aus. plug/drug dealer!Johnny, semi-strangers to lovers, Valentine's Day, etc…
☀️ mlist + an. I know this is slightly late, as it's Valentine's Day themed, but I hope ya'll like it anyway! big thank you to @sehunniepotwrites, my beta reader, my fellow John lover, my bestie- Love you girlie, thank you for helping me edit this to get it posted on time 💕
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Being alone on Valentine’s Day is never fun. It would be one thing if you were with your girlfriends, but today, you’ll truly be alone. Everyone is busy, people are working, or with significant others- you feel like you’re the only person without plans, and it’s driving you completely insane.
Your apartment is spotless, you’d gone on a cleaning bender to distract yourself from today’s date, but as three o'clock rolls in, you find yourself sitting on your couch and staring at the ceiling.
There’d been a time in your life when boredom would make way for addictive traits. Dopamine-filled hobbies that you’ve since done your best to squash. But as three becomes four and you have nothing to satiate yourself - not even the pink bottle of wine in your fridge has been able to drown your loneliness - you begin to consider more drastic measures.
You’d never been a stoner, per se, but you’d gone with your cousin a few times to pick up from her run-of-the-mill dealer. If anything can help you relax and watch a movie, you think it might be some Grade A Indica. 
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Unknown number: Hi John, are you out today?
John: define out. Who is this
Unknown number: shit
Unknown number: my cousin gave me your number, I’ve picked up from you a few times
Unknown number: You probably don’t remember me but my name is y/n
John: I remember you
John: how much do you need?
Unknown number: I’m thinking $100 worth?
John: I’ll bring my shit. Text me your address and I can be over within the hour
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Usually, when your cousin has gotten in contact with John, he comes to her apartment and the two of you go outside, filing into his truck. He has a duffle with jars full of weed, shatter, and the like. You give him money and he helps you decide what your night is going to look like.
When John calls you half an hour after you’ve texted him, you’re already almost at your door. “I’ll be down in a sec,” you tell him, searching for your keys.
“How about you buzz me up instead?” he suggests. “I’m outside the front door.”
You freeze for a moment. As far as you know, John’s never come up to your cousin’s apartment, and the idea of inviting the sexy local plug up into your one bedroom is sketchy… but at the same time, you’re feeling kind of desperate. 
“Okay, type my apartment number into the keypad and I’ll let you in. The elevator will take you to my floor.”
You hang up, and a moment later your phone rings again. You press the buzz-up key and hold your breath.
You’re not sure if you’re scared of being alone with John because he’s a drug dealer or if you’re frightened of your own lack of self-control. John’s one of the sexiest men you’ve ever seen and this is Valentine’s Day. You’d been planning on maybe getting a little high, pulling out your vibrator, and having a good time with yourself… but if you could have a good time with him…
You give your head a shake, reaching for your bottle of wine. You pour the last bit of it into a cup, lifting it to your lips while you wait for the local plug to arrive at your door.
When he knocks, you practically jump, heart lurching in your chest. You scurry to your door, not wanting to make him wait- not wanting any of your neighbors to see the tall, sexy, tattooed man standing outside your home.
John greets you with a grin. “Special delivery,” he jokes, stepping past you and into the apartment and looking around. “You’ve got a nice place.”
“Thank you.” 
You watch him head into the living space. He walks as if he’s been here before, as if he belongs here. The duffle makes a thumping sound when he nonchalantly sets it onto your small dining table, but John doesn’t immediately open it to show you the product like he does when you’ve bought from him before.
“Is it just me, or does it feel kind of sad in here?” John asks, turning to look at you.
“Hmm?” 
“I just mean…” he gestures around, “spotless house, a pretty girl alone on Valentine’s Day… you haven’t bought from me in a while, sweet thing, I kind of thought you’d quit.”
“I did quit-” you stutter, “I mean… I was never a huge stoner or anything, so I wouldn’t say I quit-”
John grins while watching you search for an explanation. He leans back, palms flat on the dining table. The black v-neck he’s wearing shows off some of his chest piece and the tattoos on his neck are definitely a distraction as you try to formulate words.
“Look, all I’m saying is… I’d hate for you to lose your sobriety streak because you’re feeling lonely on Valentine’s Day.”
“I’m not exactly sober,” you scoff, reaching for your glass of wine.
“Is that a rosé?”
You look down at the liquid. “It’s a pink strawberry sparkling wine.”
“Sounds nice. Give me a taste.” He holds out a hand, and it’s clear that it’s more of a demand than a request, so with a sigh, you hand your cup to the local plug.
John swirls the glass, then he lifts it to his lips. He doesn’t sip, doesn’t take his time, he simply tilts his head back and downs the wine in two large gulps. When he’s done, he wipes his hand across his mouth, grinning mischievously. “Yummy.”
“That was the last of it,” you groan. “Now I have to hit the liquor store too.”
“Is it usual for you to get crossed, sweet thing? Weed and wine? You must really be feeling some type of way today.”
“So says the drug dealer working on Valentine’s Day.” You roll your eyes, annoyed that he’d downed your whole glass and isn’t cutting to the chase of your transaction.
“Ouch,” John laughs. “When did you get such a mouth on you?”
“Since you just drank an entire cup of wine in two seconds and started talking about my sobriety streak- are you going to sell me some weed or not?”
“For a girl with nowhere to be, you sound like you’re in a rush,” John muses. “You want to get me out of your home that badly, huh?”
“I mean, I would have preferred meeting you at your car,” you admit.
John simply shrugs. “And I wanted to see how dire your situation was. Clearly, it’s pretty fucked. Listen, we can still go down to my car if you want.”
“Will you sell me the weed if I go with you?”
“Nah, but I can take you out for a drink instead.”
His words hang heavy in the air, and your mind does mental gymnastics to make sense of the suggestion. 
Is he asking you out? 
Finally, you ask, “Aren’t you working?”
“The good thing about being your own boss is you can always say fuck it, I wanna go to a bar,” John points out. “So are you going to come with me and let me distract you better than weed would? Or are you going to mope around here with no wine, no weed, and no sexy plug to make you feel better?”
You definitely have a sexy plug or two hidden away under your bed that could make your day better- but you don’t tell John that. Instead, you let out a sigh. “I guess I have nothing better to do.”
“That’s the spirit, sweet thing, now let’s go on an adventure.”
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The place he takes you to is a complete dive. It’s a dark ambiance, and as you settle onto a bar stool, you notice the stickiness of the counter in front of you. John, however, seems completely at home here. He doesn’t mind the alcohol-stained wood, leaning over it to speak to the bartender over the loud rock music that plays through the establishment. “Two shots of the regular,” he announces.
“You got it, Johnny,” she laughs, turning to grab a bottle of whiskey from one of the higher shelves.
“So I guess I don’t have to ask if you come here often,” you breathe.
“And I don’t have to ask if you’ve been here before. You stick out like a sore thumb, sweet thing. Relax a little.”
You let out a sigh. “Are we really going to do whiskey shooters?”
“I’m buying so I’m choosing,” John insists. “But if you want a cocktail or something, you can get that too, on me.”
So instead of taking your money today, he’s spending his money on you.
John is an enigma, and the confusion you feel has you more curious than ever.
“So how’d a guy like you get into your line of work?” you ask.
“He’s eighteen, gets stupid tattoos on his neck and hands, is rejected from other lines of work, and then discovers he has a talent for growing the best weed in town,” John responds. “Although, between you and me, I’m pretty good at growing orchids too.”
You had not pegged him as a plant guy. He’s always seemed so one-dimensional, and you realize now that your stereotype of him had been wrong. You’d never have thought John was the one actually growing the product he sells, and the idea of him nursing an orchid - a famously difficult flower - has your heart softening.
The bartender returns, setting two shots in front of you and John. “How’s your day going, Hyuna?” John asks, picking up a conversation with her.
“It’s going,” she sighs.
“Ouch, that doesn’t sound good,” John muses, pushing one of the shooters in front of you. “I thought you were seeing that new guy- the finance bro. Figured you’d be with him today.”
“I’m not sure he’s the commitment type.” Hyuna brushes her long dark hair over a shoulder, looking between you and John. “Besides, someone has to run this lonely hearts club here. You’re ruining the single vibe by bringing a date.”
“My bad for not introducing her, by the way,” John grins. His arm comes around the back of your chair, and he pulls you closer. “This is sweet thing, I’m saving her from making bad decisions today.”
“Yeah? And how are you doing that?” Hyuna laughs.
“By substituting one drug for another.” John picks up his shooter, turning to you. “To bad decisions.”
With a sigh, you grab your own shot, lifting it to clink against John’s. “To bad decisions,” you echo.
The whiskey is like fire as you shoot it, and you have to do your best not to sputter from how bad it tastes. You feel your face scrunch up involuntarily, and it earns laughs from Hyuna and John.
“I think we can all agree Johnny’s taste in alcohol is a bad decision,” Hyuna muses. “What can I get you, sweet thing?”
You order your drink of choice. John asks for three more shooters. When Hyuna sets them all down in front of you, John holds one out to her. “This one’s for you. I’m sorry it’s not working out with finance bro.”
Hyuna assesses the shot, then, with a groan, she grabs it. “I shouldn’t be doing this.”
“No one’s gonna care,” John insists. “And we both know your manager is in love with you. Just take the shot, babes.”
Hyuna rolls her eyes and downs the drink. She sets the glass down, her perfectly manicured black nails dragging along it momentarily. “You and your annoying tastes.”
“You’ll learn to love this,” John assures her. “You learned to love me, right?”
“After I got over how annoying you are.”
John only laughs. He downs another shot, bringing his total to three. Then he stands up abruptly. “Vape break,” he announces. “You girls better not have too much fun without me.”
You watch him leave, sipping on your cocktail. 
“So how did you two meet?” Hyuna asks, half turning to remove some glasses from the washer so she can polish them while you chat.
You lean forward, whispering, “He’s literally my plug.”
“John’s everyone’s plug,” Hyuna laughs.
“How about you? He’s a regular?”
“Yeah, but I also dated his sister once upon a time,” Hyuna explains. “He was her annoying kid brother. I did my best to be nice to him but things didn’t end so well with her- then three years later he came in here, all tattooed and wreaking of weed- He recognized me right away, and he’s been coming in here ever since. Tips good too.”
You’d been wondering about the specificities of their relationship. Hyuna’s gorgeous, like- one of the prettiest bartenders you’ve ever seen. Her lean arms are covered in intricate tattoos, her nails are filed to points, her hair is perfect, her cheekbones are prominent and her lips are puffy like pillows-
Who wouldn’t have a crush on her?
“He’s an interesting guy,” you muse finally.
“Don’t let his tattoos fool you,” Hyuna says, meeting your eye. “He’s a sweetheart. He just likes to look all tough because of his job.”
You consider what she’s just said.
“So…” your throat feels a little dry. “Does he often come in here with girls?”
“Never. And especially not on Valentine’s Day.” Hyuna sets a cup down, leaning over the bar top to get a good look at you. “So tell me, sweet thing, what’s the end goal here?”
“Hmm?”
“Johnny might be an annoying plug, but like I said, he’s a good guy. I’m not dating his sister anymore, but he’s still like a kid brother to me. I don’t want to see him get hurt.” There’s a beat of silence. “He’s giving you heart eyes, and he let you choose your own drink. John doesn’t even let me choose my own drink once in a blue moon when we go out. He’s also never cared about what drugs I do, so why does he care so much about you? What makes you so special?”
“I…” you set your cocktail down. “I really can’t answer that.”
Hyuna cocks her head, pursing her lips. “Girl to girl, don’t be a bitch to him. I’m the one he’s going to come crying to if you reject him really hard. Let him down softly, if you have to.”
“Honestly, girl to girl, I don’t even know if he’s into me that way.”
“Sweet thing,” Hyun scoffs, “you must be blind as a bat. Don’t you see the way he’s looking at you?”
“I sort of thought he was just horny for Valentine’s Day.”
The bartender lets out a barking laugh. “The only things Johnny’s horny for are things that come in green: money and weed. He doesn’t date, babes, and you two are on a date.”
Your lips part to respond, but the door to the bar opens and John comes back inside. He lumbers over with a grin, taking the seat next to you. His arm slides around the back of your chair and he leans forward, looking between you and Hyuna. “So what did I miss?”
“Nothing important,” Hyuna lies. 
“In that case, I think I’m going to order a-”
“You’re aware that at some point I’ll have to take your keys away, right?” Hyuna raises a brow at John. “I just gave you three shots, you have one sitting in front of you still-”
“We both know I’m a heavyweight,” John insists.
“Sure you are,” Hyuna rolls her eyes, “and your skin is naturally pink.” 
You assess John. Hyuna must have good vision, because in the shitty lighting of the bar, you can hardly tell that John has definitely flushed from the alcohol. His cheeks are a rosy hue, and he looks as boyish as ever, a stark contradiction to the neck tattoos that are also beginning to blossom with color.
“How about this… two more shots,” John bargains, holding up three fingers.
Hyuna scoffs loudly.
“How about… two more shots,” John continues to hold three fingers, “And I’ll buy dessert so my body doesn’t turn into a complete whiskey barrel.”
“Two desserts and you have a deal,” Hyuna sighs.
“Two desserts it is.” John sits back in his chair. “What are you thinking, sweet thing? This place has a really good brownie, although, there's no weed in it.”
“We’ve also got apple pie with ice cream, tiramisu from the Italian place next door-” Hyuna does her best to be helpful, and you’re beginning to appreciate the tough love elder sister act thing she has going on.
You order the dessert that sounds most to your liking, and as you wait, John begins to ask about your cousin. “She’s a trooper,” he muses. “I sold her this massive thing of mushrooms last week and she texted me like two days ago asking for more.”
“She’s a heavy hitter for sure,” you agree.
“She told me once that she only does things like weed and shrooms because they come from the Earth,” John continues. “Never asks for links to cocaine or MDMA or anything- just the Earthy shit. She told me it’s cuz she’s a Taurus.”
You laugh. “That’s my cousin.”
“It was interesting meeting you for the first time,” John continues. “Your cousin gets into the car, knows exactly what strains of weed she wanted- pretty sure she was buying shatter. And there you are, asking for a blunt. Didn’t know if you wanted indica or sativa or a hybrid…” John shakes his head, as if it was the most baffling experience in the world. “In the end, I gave you some indica. Could tell you had a lot of anxiety and shit. I was kind of happy when you stopped buying, I’d hoped you’d found some other outlets or something.”
“I picked up wine,” you say, only half joking.
“Look, on our way back to your place to drop you off, I’ll stop and pick up a bottle for you to make up for what I drank earlier, deal?”
“Deal.”
John grins, and then you see his hand dipping down into his pocket. “Vape break.”
You watch John lumber outside again, and you release a deep sigh, meeting Hyuna’s eye. “Boys and their vapes.”
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Dessert had helped mellow John out somewhat, and he’d actually been pretty law abiding while driving to the liquor store after. The two of you are now walking around the aisles, with John asking you all sorts of questions about your preferences when it comes to booze.
It feels shockingly domestic, especially when people go to move past you and John’s hand finds the small of your back, gently prompting you in front of him to make way for others to go by.
“What if I get us two bottles, and you let me come up for a movie,” John suggests as you reach for a replacement wine from earlier.
“What sort of movie?” you ask.
“Anything you want.”
“Are you sure I’m the only lonely one today?” you tease. “You’re being pretty clingy, John.”
“Anxious girls love a man that clings,” the plug insists. “Here, I’ll sweeten the pot for my sweet thing. Three bottles of wine, on me, and I’ll hand roll a blunt that will blow your socks off.”
“What happened to not wanting me to lose my no-weed streak?”
“I never said I’d let you smoke it, I just said I’d hand roll it and you’d be super impressed by my skills.”
You let out a laugh. It’s shocking how much your opinion of him has changed in a few short hours. You can’t believe how comfortable he’s making you feel.
“Fine. Three bottles,” you agree.
John grabs two more to join the one in your hand, and you head to the checkout. As you’re waiting in line, his phone rings, and he brings it to his ear.
“Hey, Mark…” John’s eyes meet yours. “I mean, I’m kind of busy… You really need it huh? Okay, give me a sec.” The plug presses his phone to his chest. “I’ve got a buddy who wants to link up. He lives pretty close by. It would take like… ten or fifteen minutes max. You good with that?”
“Yeah,” you agree. “Sounds okay.”
John lifts his phone back to his ear. “Okay, I’ll be there in ten minutes. You better be waiting outside though, I told you I’m busy.”
A short while later, you’re sitting in the front passenger’s seat of John’s truck as he pulls up in front of an apartment building. A man in a hoodie and baseball cap is standing there, and he quickly gets into the back, giving you an odd look.
“Mark, this is sweet thing. Sweet thing, this is Mark,” John says smoothly.
“Dude. I didn’t know you had a girlfriend.”
John ignores the comment. “How much are you spending today?”
“Five hundred.” Mark pulls a wad of bills out of his pocket. 
“The usual?” John asks, reaching down for the duffle by your feet.
“Half shrooms, quarter indica flower, quarter butter or shatter, whatever you think is best today.” 
“You got it.” John sets the duffle gently on your lap, rifling through it. He begins to pull things out, like a jar full of weed. As John sections it off into bags, Mark leans forward to get a better look at you.
“Sorry for interrupting your plans,” he says sheepishly.
“That’s okay,” you assure him.
“You guys up to anything fun?”
“Movie night,” John answers, tossing a baggie of weed back at his friend. 
“Nice.” Mark nods to himself, waiting patiently. 
Soon, John’s fulfilled the order. Mark hands the cash to the plug, and with one final nod and half smile, he gets out of the car. 
“So…” John’s hand returns to the wheel. “Movie night?”
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You’re two glasses of wine into the movie when John begins to roll a joint. He’s seated next to you on the couch, his thigh just touching yours as he bends over the coffee table. For a guy with such large hands, he’s more adept than you would have thought he’d be at the fine-tuned movements needed to make the perfect joint.
You’re more enthralled by him than the movie at this point, and you can’t help the way your body reacts when he lifts up his nearly finished product to swipe his tongue across the paper. He seals the joint masterfully before turning to meet your gaze. “I’m gonna pop onto your deck for a moment to smoke this.”
“I’ll join you,” you tell him immediately, pausing the movie to stand up.
You follow him outside, momentarily taken aback by how cold it’s gotten. 
John pulls a lighter out of his pocket, and after one sharp flick, he begins to smoke the joint.
You like the way his jaw looks in the shadows of light from the deck lamp. He’s so handsome and regal-
The cloud of smoke he exhales is bigger than anything you’d ever be able to do yourself, and even that is sexy in some odd way.
“You’re really not going to give me a hit?” you ask.
“Nope.” John looks at you with a lazy expression and a half smile. “You’re the good girl, and I’m the bad guy, remember.”
“Bad guy,” you scoff. 
“Why are you laughing, sweet thing? I’m a plug with tattoos. I’m bad.”
“You’re a softie.”
Now it’s his turn to laugh. “Says who?”
“Says me,” you insist.
“Yeah? And how do you figure?”
You think about it for a moment before responding. “You’ve taken care of me today… even though you didn’t have to.”
“Well, I wanted to.” John takes another puff, blowing it in your face. “It was pretty self-serving actually.”
You roll your eyes, waving away the smoke. “Sure it was, John.”
“Johnny,” he says quietly. “Call me Johnny.”
You stare at him, taking in his pretty face, the way his perfect lips wrap around the joint when he takes a puff. “Johnny… be for real. Why are you here?”
He lets out a laugh, but there’s little humor in it. “Isn’t it obvious?”
You shake your head, holding your breath while you wait for him to elaborate.
Johnny sighs. “Look. I’ve always liked you. I liked having you come around, needing an explanation about weed, and joints versus blunts, and indica versus sativa- it was like… it was like having a little bit of sunshine every once in a while. Then you stopped buying, and I was happy about that, but I also wasn’t. Hadn’t heard from you in months, didn’t have your number, couldn’t ask your cousin about you- you texted, and it’s Valentine’s Day, and I came up and saw you were alone- and… I don’t know… I just hate missed opportunities, and I couldn’t let this one pass me by.”
You’re really not sure what to say. His demeanor is usually kind of joking, he’s the type to always have a smile- but right now, he’s not smiling, not joking- he’s being dead serious. 
“I’m happy I messaged you.” You feel stupid as the words leave your lips, but they bring back Johnny’s boyish grin.
“Yeah?”
“Uh huh,” you step closer, looking up at the tall plug. “Thanks for taking me out for drinks.”
“It would have been a crime to leave a sweet thing like you alone on Valentine’s Day, and trust me, I know all about crime.”
God, he’s such a goof. Why is he so endearing?
“Do you know about shotgunning?” you ask.
Johnny’s brows furrow for a second. “I’m shocked you know about shotgunning.” 
“Do you wanna try it?”
The plug looks you up and down. “Is this a ploy to get at my joint?”
“Nuh uh,” you shake your head. 
Johnny leans forward, meeting your eyes as his lips almost brush past your own. “Liar.”
He pulls away, slotting the joint in his mouth. He watches you while taking a long drag. Then he’s removing the joint and bending down again, meeting your gaze. 
You lean forward, reaching to gently grab at his shoulders. Your heart is racing a million miles a minute in your chest, and you do your best to exhale, although it comes out shaky.
“Kiss me,” you whisper.
Johnny doesn’t have to be told twice, he closes the distance, pressing his lips to yours in an open-mouthed kiss. He exhales the smoke into your lungs and you do your best to breathe it in, but Johnny’s so much bigger than you, and you have to pull away before he’s completely finished his breath.
You sputter a little, feeling tears in your eyes. There’s a rush through your body, and you feel a little wobbly, but your grip on Johnny keeps you standing. 
“John-” As soon as you’ve recovered, he’s kissing you again, but this time, it’s not for the purpose of shotgunning.
This time, he’s kissing you like he means it. 
Like he needs it.
His large hand cups your cheek, and he releases a soft groan when you kiss him back, wrapping your arms tighter around his shoulders to pull him closer. 
He tastes like weed and wine, and oddly enough it’s not a bad combination. As his tongue swipes past your lip and you open your mouth for him, you find yourself releasing a groan of pleasure. 
Johnny returns the sound. In the periphery, you’re aware of him flicking the joint to the ground in favour of grabbing you with both hands. First, he cups your hips, pulling you flush against him, but after a moment, he reaches down to squeeze your ass too.
You go for a breather, and he takes the opportunity to kiss your throat, teasing his tongue against your skin and making you shiver in the cold evening air.
“You know…” you thread your fingers through his hair, “if you won’t give me drugs to use for happy chemicals, the least you could do is give me an orgasm.”
Johnny chuckles, pulling away to look at you with eyes that somehow sparkle. “I thought that was a given, sweet thing.”
“It better be,” you tease, cupping the back of his neck to bring his lips to yours again.
This time, when the kiss deepens and Johnny bends down to cup your ass, he lifts you off the ground, prompting you to wrap your legs around his hips. He pushes the door open behind you, taking you back inside.
You’re so lost in his lips you almost don’t realize he’s moved past your couch, and then he’s gently laying you onto your bed. “So how do you like it?” he asks, pulling away so he can tear his hoodie and shirt off, revealing a toned chest, and all the tattoos you’ve been itching to see.
“I like it any way you want to give it to me. Dealers choice.”
Johnny lets out a laugh. “You’re cute.”
“You’re cute,” you retort, hooking your fingers in his belt to draw him closer again.
Johnny presses a hand to the bed by your head, bending over you so he can kiss you. Your thighs wrap around him, pulling him fully on top of you while you’re locked in the hottest tongue battle of your life.
He’s just so big and sexy- the weight of him is enough to have you gasping, even though he’s still holding himself up with his elbow now propped into the bed. 
His free hand finds your hip, slipping under your shirt to trace your skin. Each brush of his fingers builds the fire in the pit of your stomach, and as he slowly moves to grasp your breast, you find yourself almost dying with need for him. 
You whimper lewdly against his lips, pushing your chest up toward his palm. With a bra in the way, you can’t get the proper stimulus against your nipple, and within moments of him massaging your tits, you begin to tear your shirt off, needing more.
Johnny helps you remove the fabric, tossing it to the side so his mouth can find your throat. “You’re so pretty,” he muses, reaching under you to undo the clasp of your bra. “Can I take this off?”
“Yeah, fuck- let's get naked.” 
Johnny chuckles, pulling away to look down at you. “You sure you didn’t drink too much wine, sweet thing?”
“I’m mostly sober.”
“And that shotgunning didn’t make you needy?”
“You make me needy,” you insist, cupping his face. “You know how you said you were into me months ago? When we first met, I swear I thought you were the sexiest plug I’d ever seen.”
“Probably the only plug you’d ever seen,” Johnny points out with a grin.
“John,” you meet his gaze, “earlier, when you first got here, I wasn’t even sure if I should invite you up. I was worried I’d lose my self-control and jump you or something- trust me, the physical attraction has always been there, but… getting to know you today, I like who you are inside too… so, just fuck me, yeah?”
“Happy fucking Valentine’s Day to us lonely hearts, huh?” 
Instead of answering, you kiss him again, tangling your fingers in his hair. Johnny groans when you tug gently, and he grinds his hips down against your own. You can feel the bulge of his cock as it drags against your core, and you’re pretty sure your panties are going to be ruined after this.
You can’t help yourself, you trace your hand down from his shoulders to his chest, then his abdomen- then you cup his cock, applying pressure that has him moaning again, thrusting against your hand for friction.
“I think I kind of want you in my mouth,” you admit breathlessly.
“That’s funny, I want you in mine.”
You think about it for a moment. “Sixty-nine?”
“Fuck, you’re a girl after my own heart, aren’t you, sweet thing?”
You can only grin, heart thundering in your chest as you push at Johnny’s shoulders, prompting him to roll onto his back.
“You take off your pants, and I’ll take off mine,” you suggest, getting off of him so you can work on your jeans.
Johnny doesn’t need to be told twice, and you watch the way his muscles ripple under his skin as he hurries to get naked. 
He’d never actually taken off your bra, so you do that yourself. In moments, you’re both completely nude.
You stare at Johnny, taking in his cock. 
He’s rock-hard and huge. It makes you excited, but you’re also not sure how well you’ll be able to take him. He must be at least seven or eight inches, and thick too, with a pretty mushroom tip that’s already leaking precum. 
He grins at your reaction. “Think you can handle this, sweet thing?”
“Something tells me you’ll make it fit.”
“You got that right,” he laughs. “Now come sit on my face, wanna taste that pretty pussy.”
There’s something so suave about half-baked Johnny. He speaks with an almost melodic tone, it’s deep and sensual, and your pussy throbs just from the words coming out of his mouth.
As you crawl onto the bed, getting into position, his hands are careful against your form, helping you settle as you swing a thigh over his head, hovering your core over his mouth. Instead of waiting for you to sit down, Johnny lifts himself up a little, burying his face in your pussy before you can even touch his cock.
“Fuck-” you whimper, grabbing the base of his length as he pushes his tongue deep inside of you, licking the length of your slit. 
You would love nothing more than to enjoy his mouth on you for hours- but you have your own job to do, and you’re already drooling. You bring his mushroom tip to your lips, gently licking at him.
Johnny’s large hands find your ass, and he squeezes you gently. “No teasing,” he mumbles, and the vibration against your clit has you squirming down on his face.
You take him into your mouth, sucking on the tip and twirling your tongue. Johnny immediately releases a groan before diving back into your pussy. He grabs your hips pulling you down tighter against his face.
It’s hard to know what to focus on. He feels so good with his mouth worshiping your pussy, but at the same time, you’re kind of obsessed with sucking his cock. He’s so huge, and you want to see how much you can take. You sink further onto his length, feeling your lips stretch at the intrusion-
God, he’s going to absolutely wreck your pussy. You can’t even fit half of him in your mouth before he’s hitting the back of your throat, and as you constrict around him, he releases lewd sounds of pleasure that have your core practically throbbing with need.
You pull off of him, if only to collect your saliva as lube so you can stroke what your mouth can’t reach. Taking a breath and steadying yourself, you grind gently against his tongue, moaning loudly. Then you take him past your lips again, getting lost in the act of simultaneous giving and receiving.
You’re lost in him, so lost that you don’t even know how long you’ve been in this position- but you can feel an orgasm bubbling in the pit of your stomach every time Johnny focuses on your clit.
You find yourself grinding harder against his face, and as the feeling builds, you can’t help but pull off of his cock, gasping and moaning. “Fuck, Johnny, I’m gonna-”
“Cum for me,” he groans, squeezing your ass as he kitten licks your clit. “Don’t hold back. Cum on my face, sweet thing, give me everything.”
You’re stroking his cock mindlessly, your muscles tensing as Johnny takes your clit into his mouth, sucking and licking-
“Oh my God-” you whimper, toes curling-
Your orgasm washes over you like a wave. It tingles through every inch of your being, throbbing out from your core. You and Johnny both release groans of satisfaction, and the knowledge that he’s enjoying having you cum on his face only makes your pussy clench tighter.
You’re practically riding his tongue now, chasing the last inklings of your high until you’re absolutely breathless. 
Johnny presses one last kiss to your clit, and then he’s tapping your ass gently. “Gonna roll onto your back and let me fuck you like the good girl you are?”
“God, yes,” you groan. Your legs are shaky but you get off of Johnny’s face, collapsing next to him. 
“Damn, sweet thing, that was a good one, huh?” Johnny laughs, sitting up and stroking your thigh.
“So good,” you whimper, still feeling the aftershocks.
Johnny gets between your legs, elbow pressing into the bed next to your head as he dips close to kiss your neck. “The way you were grinding against my face was so fucking hot.”
“Johnny-” You wrap your legs around him, feeling absolutely desperate for his cock.
“You’ll have to be a little patient for me, sweet thing,” Johnny sighs, one large hand cupping your breast and teasing past your nipple. “I’ve gotta stretch you out before you can take me.”
“What if I want you now?”
“Like I said,” his breath is hot against your throat, “you’ll have to be patient.”
“What if I want you to wreck me?”
Johnny laughs, pulling away to look at you. “You’re not as innocent as you look, are you, angel?”
You trace your fingers along the fine line, black and white, Japanese Oni mask tattoo that sits on his chest between his defined pectoral muscles. “Not when it comes to you.” 
The plug simply grins at your words, his hand trailing down until it reaches your core. Two thick fingers prod at your opening, and you spread your legs even wider to accommodate him. He teasingly dips the first digit inside of you and you release a moan at how good it feels, but he’s quick to pull it out and circle your clit.
“You know what you said earlier?”
He lets out a humming sound.
“About not teasing?” you correct. “If you’re making me wait for you to prep me, you better not take your sweet time with it.”
“You’ll have to let me take my time with you next time then.”
“Next time?” You cock a brow.
“Yeah,” Johnny ghosts his lips over your own. “Next time.”
“Deal, now finger fuck me open then give me your cock.”
“Jesus, I love it when you talk dirty,” Johnny groans, dipping his finger into your core again. “Tell me more.”
“You just feel so fucking good,” you groan, swiveling your hips. “Even one finger- you’re just so big- Johnny, how are you so big?”
“You haven’t really experienced the Big yet,” John points out, adding a second digit that he scissors inside of you, stretching you out for him.
In response, you reach down and wrap your hand around his cock, pumping him gently. “I’m gonna feel you inside me for days after this.”
“Especially if you let me fuck you tomorrow, and the day after- you could feel me forever if you wanted to.”
“Forever, huh?” You let out a whimper as his digits work harder inside of you, crooking up to stroke your g spot with shocking precision. 
“I’m still a little high, it’s making me… too honest.”
“I like honest,” you admit, cupping his face with your free hand, drawing his lips to yours. “I like you.”
“I like you too,” he whispers, kissing you deeper as he finger fucks you faster. “Okay, sweet thing, I think you’re just about ready for me- dripping all over my hand.”
“I’m ready,” you assure him, staring into those beautiful chocolate-brown eyes.
“Should I grab a condom?”
“Are you clean?”
“Yeah. Contrary to popular belief, I don’t fuck around that often. I’m not a one-night stand kind of guy.”
You giggle. “I’ve sort of noticed that.”
He kisses you again. “I can still grab a condom though.”
“No, I’m on birth control. I want you to fill me up with cock and cum until it’s all I can think about.”
“I can do that.” Johnny pulls his fingers out of your pussy, and before he can lick them clean, you grab his wrist and guide them to your own mouth. “Fuck, you’re so fucking hot, angel.”
You groan around his digits, sucking them clean. When you’re done, Johnny grabs your jaw, drawing your lips to his so he can taste you, his tongue gliding against your own. 
You’ve still got his cock in your hand, and you pump him gently, adjusting against the blanket to get closer to him so you can guide his tip toward your core.
Johnny takes the hint, and he breaks the kiss, pressing his forehead against yours. His gaze dips to where your bodies meet, and he allows you most of the control as you drag his cock through your folds. “You really want this?”
“Just fuck me, John. Please don’t make me beg.”
He pushes forward, the tip of his cock sheathing in your tight core. “Holy shit,” Johnny groans.
“More.” 
Johnny can only laugh, rubbing the tip of his nose against yours as he thrusts deeper into you. The two of you hold your breath as inch after inch stretches you open. You’re so wet, and it makes the process easier, but you can still feel Johnny everywhere.
You’re a wriggling, moaning mess by the time he’s fully inside of you.
Johnny’s breath is hot against your skin, and his chest is rising and falling with effort, his bicep bulging next to your head. “You good?”
“Yeah,” you nod, swallowing thickly.
“Can I-”
“Rail me. Break my back. Murder my pussy.”
Johnny laughs, pressing his lips to yours to shut you up as he begins to move his hips, pulling out only to thrust back in. You can feel your insides practically quivering with each drag of his length against your walls. He’s so big, and you’re stretched to the brink- the vein along the underside of his cock is an added stimulus that has your toes curling already.
You’ll never be the same after this.
No one’s cock is ever going to compare and you just know it.
Johnny’s lips can’t muffle the sounds of pleasure still escaping you, and you grab at his broad shoulders, tracing your nails against his skin.
It’s so easy to get lost in Johnny. He makes you feel safe, and the pleasure he’s giving you has time flying by like nothing else. Johnny’s mouth goes to your throat, teasing the spot that has you moaning even louder.
“Can I flip you over? Wanna see that ass.”
“Do anything you want with me,” you tell him, and you mean it.
With one last kiss, Johnny pulls out of you. His large hands find your hips. He manhandles you over, pulling your ass back and up so he can push into you again. 
“Fuck,” you groan, grabbing at the bed sheets. “You’re even deeper like this-”
Each time his front meets your ass, the slapping sound turns you on even more. He’s practically rearranging your guts like this, and you don’t mind it one bit.
“Do you wanna rub your clit for me, sweet thing?” Johnny asks. “You’re so fucking tight around me, and I’m so sensitive when I smoke- not sure I’ll be able to last long, and I want you to cum with me. Wanna feel this pretty pussy all clenched and dripping-”
Every word has your body tingling, and you bring your fingers to your clit, rubbing in quick circles. 
“Johnny-” you whimper.
“That’s it, angel. You feel so fucking good- so fucking good for me.” He grabs fistfuls of your ass, squeezing in a way that has you crying out. “Who’s my good girl?”
“Me!”
“Who’s taking this cock so fucking good?”
“Me!” 
“Fuck-” Johnny lets go of your ass, wrapping a hand around your throat. He helps lift you up until your back is curved, shoulders pressed to his chest. His lips find your neck, hand dipping down to grasp your breast roughly, pinching your nipple.
“I’m gonna-”
“I know, sweet thing, me too-” He’s fucking into you like a god damned fuck machine, and each circle of your fingers on your clit has you closer and closer to the edge- “Fuck, okay, I’m there- shit, yeah, I’m there- you’re gonna cum with me, right? Gonna cum on my cock and let me fill you up?”
All you can do is whimper, your body fulfilling his ask before your brain can even fully process it. Your core clamps down hard on his cock, and Johnny releases a deep groan in your ear. He holds you close, squeezing you as his thrusts get erratic.
You can feel him cumming deep inside of you, and you’ve never felt this cock drunk in your life. 
Nothing matters except Johnny and his huge cock filling you up to the brink. His lips are hot on your throat, and he fucks you through your highs, your pussy fluttering around him as wave upon wave of pleasure rocks through you.
As you both finish, he pushes himself fully inside of you. You can feel his cock throbbing, and his groans are music to your ears. 
“Happy Valentine’s Day,” he whispers, letting out a soft laugh as he nuzzles against your cheek.
“Happy fucking Valentine’s Day,” you giggle, grabbing the hand on your breast and lifting it to your lips so you can kiss his palm.
He holds you for a few more moments, then he gently lowers you to the bed, cock still inside of you. “I’m gonna pull out,” he says, smoothing a hand over your ass. “You don’t mind if I watch it drip out of you for a second, right?”
“I’m just laying here,” you smile against the quilt. 
Even so, it feels like a loss as he takes his cock out of your aching pussy. His hands are on your ass and he spreads your cheeks. “Fuck, sweet thing. This is the prettiest view in the whole fucking world.”
When you’d texted Johnny earlier for a link-up, you’d never expected this. Never expected to see this softer side of him. 
You’re so fucking happy you reached out- he provided more than what you’d asked for.
“I busted a fat load in you, angel,” Johnny laughs, his thumb moving to rub your clit, causing you to whine and push back against him. “How about we go for a shower. I can wash you up, eat you out some more-”
“Damn, Johnny, are you pussy drunk?”
“Uh huh.” He leans over you, kissing up your spine and to your shoulder. “Valentine’s Day isn’t over yet, we should make the most out of it, right?”
You get the sneaking suspicion that you’re going to be making the most out of it with Johnny for many days to come, Valentine’s Day be damned. God. Your cousin is going to have a freak when she hears about this.
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☀️ mlist + an. Thank you so much for reading! I know it's late by three days but this John still has me in the Valentine's Day spirit
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🔮 preview. “You’ll like this. You always like this. You love cumming on my cock. But you don’t get my cum unless I get yours, that’s the deal, right?”
cw/ tw. Unprotected sex, grinding on his thigh, hand job, oral (m receiving) blow job, he spits in y/n’s mouth, spit as lube, masturbation, y/n touches herself while blowing Johnny, fingering masturbation, y/n rides his cock, multiple reader orgasms, praise, gentle degradation, dirty talk, breast worship/tit sucking,  etc…   I petnames. (hers) angel, sweet thing, good girl.
👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2.6k I teaser wc. 250
🌙 starring. Johnny x afab!Reader
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bonus
You’ve gotten accustomed to your plug boyfriend. You’d only been dating for a month when he’d officially asked you to be his, but you know the two of you were exclusive to each other since that very first night you’d fucked. 
Being with John is pretty easy- but his odd work schedule can be a bit of a pain. He never knows how busy he’s going to be, so you can plan date nights, but sometimes he has to push it back a few hours to do unexpected late-night deliveries.
If you’d been cock drunk for him after the first time he’d fucked you, you’re even more dependent on him now.
No drug in the world could fill you up and give you the pleasure that Johnny’s cock does, and you’ve become a little impatient when you have to wait for him to complete deliveries… although, you’d never bring it up with him
You know being a plug is his job. It’s what pays the bills and allows him to dote on you in ways you’d scarcely been able to imagine before meeting him.
Even so, you can feel your skin crawling, pussy practically aching with anticipation as he completes the last handful of orders for the night. He’d initially wanted to be over at your place by seven, but it’s nearly ten now, and you’re three hours behind on the fuck marathon you’d planned.
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ceilidho · 2 months
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take me home, country road
[ao3]
You have nothing on your person apart from a hastily packed suitcase and the dress you came into town wearing, on the run from trouble back home. Too bad John's missing a bride that matches your description. Or: the 1800s (mistaken) mail order bride au (part 10)
first chapter >> last chapter
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In the wee hours of the morning, you wake up to a man’s hands tilting your pelvis back. There’s a pillow propping your hips up, your cheek pressed to the mattress and rump high in the air. You must have been sleeping when he turned you over onto your stomach. Maybe you turned over in your sleep and he took advantage of the fact, hooking an arm under you to lift your hips up and stuff the pillow under there.
Either way, he has you right where he wants you. Rough hands spread the cheeks of your backside apart to give him space to lap at your sex from behind. The moment you feel his tongue part your folds and lick a line up the center of you, you panic. Sleep sloughs off you in a single rogue wave that submerges you before you swim your way to the surface, skin tingling and heart frantically beating in your chest.
Your memory of the night before comes back piecemeal, only the soreness between your legs registering at first. You kick back weakly, trying to rip yourself away from the stranger behind you. A desperate, panicked noise tumbles out of you when he doesn’t so much as budge. 
The man pulls away from you just long enough to growl, “Quit fussin’—’s just me,” before giving you a tight smack across your rear. 
You’re awake and present now, jolted forcibly into consciousness. When the sound of John’s voice washes over you, your panic abates. Not a stranger, not a stranger, just your husband. It quells the fear in your belly that threatens to spark off a wave of hysteria. 
Then he runs his tongue up your slit again, his beard chafing the delicate skin of your sex, and you howl into the pillow.
Thick fingers stretch you open until you’re loose enough to take him again. He says as much in your ear before climbing over you and feeding his dick into your cunt. When his hips surge forward, hands braced on your shoulders to hold you in place, you choke on a gasp. He gives you no time to recover. The slow adoration of the evening’s love making is long forgotten, replaced by the mindless rutting of a ravenous man. He woke up with an empty belly.
You can feel his hunger when he bears down over you, holding you in place. The frantic pace of his hips. Hairy chest and belly to the tacky skin of your back. The lurid, wet sound of his flesh smacking against yours, thick cock spearing you open again and again. He bottoms out with every thrust, reaching a depth that feels impossible. All you can do is take it.
“John—” you start, but he reaches around to wrap a hand around your mouth, trapping the rest of your sentence behind his palm. Your cry comes out muffled, incomprehensible. 
“Shh—just let me—” John grunts, trailing off into a groan when your walls squeeze around him. You can’t help it. 
A disgusting thing in you is thrilled that he wants you this badly, that he loses control of his faculties this way. Trades in that veneer of a righteous man for animal lust. A sick deviance that you didn’t know you possessed raises its head and relishes in his need. It makes you cant your hips back to take him better, the new angle making you see stars. 
You find yourself infuriated at being denied the chance to look at him, sweating and panting like a bull, muscled chest rising and falling with his breaths. 
He’s too deep in the fog of exhaustion to say more than a few words. He’s mostly rough grunts behind you, breathing heavy into your neck, his sweaty palm still clamped over your mouth. He keeps it there even when your tongue lolls out and presses against his palm. 
Everything is hot and dark under the cover of night. Frustration builds and builds beneath your skin as you can hear his breath grow labored, your husband on the verge of coming. Unlike a few hours ago when he had you on your back, the root of his cock doesn’t grind against your clit in this position, pulling you back from the edge every time you think you’ll tip over.
He sucks and licks at the skin of your neck, his big palm swallowing up your pathetic mewls. When he fits his teeth into the crook of your neck, pressing down lightly, you give a whole body flinch. Any shame still lingering in you melts right out. 
When he comes, you feel the flood of warmth inside of you. The breath whooshes out of you when John puts his whole weight on top of you, forcing your body down into the mattress. He fucks you through his orgasm, the last few thrusts jostling you in his arms and making you cry out. Like he wants to make sure you take every single drop. 
You lie there panting until he pries his hand off your mouth, stroking up and down your side. For a moment, you almost think he’s going to leave you like that, right on the verge of reaching your peak, unsatisfied. Then, your eyes go wide when he shoves a hand under you and gropes around until his fingers find your pearl, rubbing it until your breathing goes high and hitched, coaxing your orgasm out of you. 
Your orgasm leaves you limp and sated. A mess in your bed. Too exhausted to even think about cleaning up. 
“Thank you, honey,” John mumbles, turning your head with the same hand that just made you come to draw you into a kiss. “Needed that.”
You don’t have the energy to respond, so you just hum instead. You don’t know how long it takes you to fall back asleep, but you lie there panting and twitching until it takes.
The morning has you fluttering around the house all nervously, somehow unsure of yourself. It feels like there’s been a fundamental shift in your marriage, like the house has finally settled in place. The next couple days are much the same. 
John just seems as self-assured as usual, almost smug about it. That drives you a bit wild.
He’s never been shy about touching you, but you hadn’t realized how much he’d been holding back before. It’s like he can hardly bear to take his hands off you now, tugging you into his lap at night during his Bible study, something you follow along half-heartedly, your faith being more of a consequence of birth than anything. His faith is built on stronger foundations. You imagine he could quote verses from memory if pressed. 
In truth, nothing changes in any significant way. All that worrying for naught. John still takes you on trail rides to show you the lay of the land, taking you out so far as to see the herds of bison and wild horses down in the valley. You watch them silently from a distance as they graze, sustaining themselves on wild grasses and forbs. Cloves, daylilies, and milkweed. 
“Where are the bears?” you ask curiously. John snorts.
“I ain’t taking you out to see them, darlin’.”
In the evening after supper, John takes the horses into the stables and you offer to groom them while he sets up targets for shooting practice. He’s been insistent on teaching you how to shoot. It’s another skill that you otherwise might have gone your whole life without learning, but John makes it clear in no uncertain terms that you’ll learn.
Most of your shots are wildly off target, the birds in a nearby tree bursting into flight and taking to the skies when you accidentally shoot into the lower branches. You wince. John just laughs, showing you how to reload your gun.
Just like with learning how to ride a horse, you wake up in pain the following morning, moaning when your husband nudges you awake. He’s familiar enough with the sound of your pleasure to know that this is anything but that.
“Think you’ve earned a week off, bug,” he says, turning you over onto your tummy and massaging your shoulders.
You sigh. “Thank goodness.”
John laughs.
You squirm on the ride into town, muffling a yip when John pinches your thigh. It’s not your fault that the brute has been working you like a draft horse. When you tell him as much, he rolls his eyes.
“Think you can handle being on your own today?” John asks, his eyes locked on yours.
You’d roll your eyes if you didn’t think that would land you with a raw backside by nightfall. Over the last few weeks, he’s indulged your attitude more than a handful of times, relegating his discipline to a few curt words or a quick smack across your rump, but even you aren’t willing to test the limits of his leniency.
“Yes, daddy,” you quip instead. A little lip hasn’t hurt you yet.
You recognize the grave mistake you just made when you see the glint in his eye. “Daddy, huh? That right?”
You stare up at him blankly, struck dumb. “Uh. I didn’t…” The way he says the word makes your mouth go dry, mind empty. A desiccated tumbleweed rolls by in the distance. 
John’s lip curls up into a smile. Your stomach flips at the sight of the hunger receding in his gaze, descending back down into the abyss. “We’ll talk about that when we get home.”
“You’re not leaving me with Kate?” you ask, clearing your throat. A desperate attempt to steer the conversation away from your unfortunate slip up. It’ll be a cold day in hell before John Price lets go of an opportunity to use your own words against you though. 
He must be feeling rather magnanimous though because he holds your gaze for a moment longer before saying, “Not today, m’afraid. She has business out of town for the next few days, so she has someone minding the shop while she’s gone.”
You frown. “She went on her own?”
“‘Course not—Kyle went along with her. Sure she’ll be pleased that you asked though.”
“She’s been nice to me,” you mumble, mollified. A bit embarrassed to be caught worrying about anyone other than yourself.
It’s not entirely unreasonable. You have a hair trigger worry cultivated from the life you’ve lived. The events of the last month have only worsened your disposition to fret. Though Kate carries herself with the quiet confidence of a woman fully capable of taking care of herself, you can’t help the way your stomach aches at the thought of her traveling between towns on her own. That lonely, deserted stretch of road.
“I’m not planning on leaving town today—got no reason to. Figured you might enjoy having a day to look around town on your own, but you just give me a holler if you need me and I’ll come running the second I hear you.”
You understand the bigger picture here. He’s not quite letting go of the reins, but he is loosening his hold on them, giving you some slack. A few weeks ago, you would’ve waited until he rounded the corner and then bolted for the train station, luggage be damned. Even a stage coach would have sufficed. 
You can’t seem to locate that same impulse now. Instead, you find yourself nodding and then leaning up for a parting kiss. You almost feel a bit bereft as you watch John walk off. Almost lonely.
Without someone watching over you, you feel adrift. Lost at sea. It’s concerning to learn how dependent you’ve become on the company of others. Back home, there were stretches of days where your voice would go rusty from lack of use. 
Now you feel strangely unmoored without someone within earshot. 
You’d bet your bottom dollar that John really would come running if you were to shout though. The thought makes your heart flutter. You’re a far cry from the girl that came into town not that long ago. You can’t imagine how she’d feel about the notion—that all you need do is raise your voice above a whisper for the county sheriff to come running.
When you think of the lawmen you used to fear though, John’s face seems incongruous with the image in your head of a grim-faced sheriff chasing after you, rifle and handcuffs in hand. Not that he couldn’t be that man, of course, but it feels like a version of him far removed from the man whose bed you share. 
The John you know stands behind you when he teaches you how to hold a gun and pull it tight into your shoulder. The man you know helps you up onto Buttercup’s saddle and guides you with a hand on your back and stomach to help you find your rhythm. 
You shake the thought from your mind. You spend enough time around the man—you don’t need him occupying your every thought as well.
You take your midmorning coffee at the inn, catching up with the woman you met on your first day in town. The innkeeper gives you a perfunctory greeting upon your arrival before settling behind the front desk to tally up the week’s earnings and review the ledger. His wire-rim glasses slip down his nose whenever he has to bend down to better read his own notes. His wife notices as well, tisking at the tenth offense in as many minutes. 
The coffee grounds are visible at the bottom of your cup when you see yourself out. 
It occurs to you as you make your way around town that you know practically every person you pass by. Perhaps not intimately, but enough that you can hardly pass one of the buildings without someone stopping you to say hello. You bounce a baby in your lap at the bank, eat a slice of cake at the restaurant with the owner, and even stop in for a spot of tea at the courthouse when the circuit judge sees you pass by on your way to the library.
The camaraderie is disconcerting. You’ve gone the bulk of your life invisible, for all intents and purposes, and the attention you garner through your affiliation with John has you on edge. It’s not entirely unpleasant, but it gets under your skin after a while. Perhaps it is unpleasant. 
Your feelings are, as always, complicated. Knotted.
A former scullery maid could not hope for a better improvement to her life, but isn’t it unfortunate that it took someone else for the world to see your worth? You could resent them for it, all of them. But it’s pleasant to be sought after, lovely to share a conversation that doesn’t end in a command. How could you begrudge John for giving you that?
The library is quiet when you arrive. A simple two-room building situated close to the town church. An older woman fusses over you when you walk in, fetching you a cup of tea before showing you to a comfortable place to sit. 
“Were you looking for anything in particular, dear?” she asks after handing you a floral print cup with a dainty little handle meant for no more than two fingers. 
“Well actually,” you start, worrying at your lip with your teeth. “I was wondering if you might have anything…instructive.”
She blinks. “Instructive?”
“Yes, um…” You abruptly recall the story that John had concocted about your former life as a school teacher. The desire to reveal to this woman that you cannot, in fact, read suddenly stills on your tongue. “Poetry maybe?” The request comes out feebly. 
She brightens, however. “Of course. I should have some Dickinson, if you’ll give me a moment.”
You thank her when she returns with a book that has clearly just been dusted off, streaks of grime still present on the cover, but when you crack it open, all you can do is stare at the words on the page hopelessly. While a few you recognize as words you’ve heard read aloud or seen on signs or on the front page of the newspaper, you can’t make heads or tails of the rest. All you can do is pretend to read, flipping the page every couple of minutes when the librarian happens to glance over at you.
Now is the moment of your discontent. It’s not long before you get up and tell her that you have to be on your way, thanking her profusely for her hospitality. You leave disgruntled though, upset that you hadn’t considered the implications of John’s story. Another fabrication catching up to you. It leaves you feeling restless, no choice but to wander aimlessly through town.
Despite knowing most of their faces and names, you feel indescribably lonely. 
Your wandering leads you to the general store, where inside Kate’s replacement stands behind the counter and smiles politely when you come in. You contemplate turning right back around at first, but there are still plenty of hours left in the day and your plan to spend the afternoon in the library practicing your words is now in shambles, completely upending your schedule. You could return to the inn to practice your needlework with the innkeeper’s wife, but you don’t want to overstay your welcome. 
You sigh. Perhaps tomorrow you’ll be able to convince John to let you stay home alone. There’s plenty you can do around the house. 
If Kate were minding the store, you would’ve pulled up a chair, but instead you duck towards the back of the store to peruse the aisles in peace. The majority of the shopwares line the walls around the store—buggy whips, horse tack, lanterns, pails, and various farm tools—but the few standing shelves at the back of the store hold a variety of foodstuff that you’ve never seen before. Canned goods and spices, dried food and tins of ground coffee. 
Had you thought to check the pantry earlier, you might’ve been tempted to purchase something. You still have a half-full coinpurse in the pocket of your dress. It’s not as though you’re penniless.
You chew on your lip. You will, at some point, need to broach the topic with John if you don’t anticipate leaving for a while. You might as well have some spare change on hand.
The bell above the door chimes when someone else walks in, cutting off your train of thought.
At first, you pay them no mind. Tucked away behind the aisle as you are, there’s no chance of them seeing you. No reason for you to peek your head around and say hello. The floorboards creak under the weight of their boots with every step as they approach the counter. The sound of their footsteps has an interesting cadence, almost an arrogant swagger; you can tell that it’s a man. You can hear Kate’s replacement greet them. 
The spurs on his boots jingle with each step.
Curiosity nips at you, but you stay rooted in place, fighting the urge to get up on your tiptoes to look over the top of the shelf. Your stomach churns though. Despite not a single word spoken, the atmosphere in the store feels tense.
“Pardon me,” the newcomer finally says, his voice a molasses-thick drawl, almost sticking to the roof of his mouth. It’s not a voice you’ve ever heard before. “I’m wonderin’ if you might be able to help me with somethin’, seein’ as how I just got into town.”
“However I can, sir. What do you need help with?” the shopkeep asks.
You hear the man take something out of his pocket and then unfold it, the paper crinkling when he spreads it out across the counter. “Name’s Graves. I’m lookin’ for a girl and wonderin’ if she mighta passed through town. I’ve got a warrant to bring her back east on account of a murder charge.”
Every inch of your body goes cold.
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Text
It's a Match! || poly!141 x Reader
[Chapter 25] || [Chapter Pre-27] || [Chapter 27]
Pairing: 141 x gn!Reader Words: 1.2k~ cw: smut, penetration, oral sex (m!receiving), gay sex (anal) Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you? a/n: we're almost THERE
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Chapter 26: Smart mouth
If you thought last time you guys did this was too much, you weren’t ready for this afternoon.
Had you had all your braincells intact, you would’ve pondered HOW John would end up adding to this, if it was even possible to add an extra person…
But they weren’t intact. You were utterly fucked out, stars prickling at the corner of your eyes…
You were lying on your tummy, legs spread apart to either side of the bed, Kyle steadily snapping his hips against your ass, the sound of his cock plunging into you wet and slick echoing in the room, not even concealed by your muffled moans.
Your head was craned back, your neck straining a bit in that position to allow for Johnny’s cock to plunge deep into your mouth, muffling any of the cries of pleasuring coming from you.
It didn’t help that Johnny was not controlling himself, his cock hammering into your mouth with wild abandon.
But that must have had something to do with the fact Simon was fucking him from behind, a hand gripping Johnny around the hip, the other holding your hair to make sure he stayed buried in your mouth.
The corners of your mouth hurt, Johnny’s shaft so impossibly thick, just like the rest of him, that you couldn’t help but whine and whimper at the stretch it forced your mouth to perform.
And Kyle with his damn moans and sighs behind you, his lengthy cock plunging so deep inside you, his thighs nearly permanently glued to your ass more often than not.
“Tha’s it… Wanted to ‘ave a fucking smart mouth, did ya?” Simon taunts who you know is Johnny, but frankly he feels like he could be speaking to any of you really.
“I-I… I’m sorry L.T.!” Johnny whines, his eyes rolling back, his back pressed firmly against Simon’s chest, head lolling against the taller man’s shoulder.
“Don’t apologise to me. Apologise to the pretty thing that’s got you all the way down their throat.” Simon replies, his tone bossy and authoritative.
“I-I’m sorry, bonnie… A-Ah…” Johnny got interrupted halfway as Simon’s hand bobbed your head back and forth, causing some audible sounds of you choking.
“Fuck… Looks so good…” Kyle huffed behind you, bent halfway over your body, panting right against your shoulder blade.
All he could see from that angle was your nose burrowed to Johnny’s pelvis, Simon’s hand in your hair, tears in your eyes…
Simon’s hand left your hair for a moment, allowing you to swallow the build up of saliva in your mouth and to breathe better through your nose, instead caressing Kyle’s cheek, his thumb grazing his bottom lip.
“You’re all doin’ so good f’r me…” Simon tells you, Kyle’s eyes closing at the praise, his lips parting to suck Simon’s thumb. “Good…”
Your eyes watch the entire scene, or… they would, if you weren’t already 2 orgasms in, too fucked out to think of anything at all beyond the fact this all feels too good.
-
You find yourself stirring awake by a sudden lack of warmth and groggily look around to notice Kyle leaving the warm pile of bodies on your bed, revealing your back to the cold air of the bedroom.
Grunting softly, you're shushed by a kiss on the crown of your head and an arm wrapping around you tighter, rubbing your bare back.
You’re hugging onto Simon, who has an arm around you. Kyle had been behind you this whole time, spooning you, and Johnny had been behind him.
“He's going to let John in,” Simon tells you as he keeps rubbing your back, gentle kisses pressed to the top of your head.
Johnny is sleeping soundly, just like you had been, his breathing steady, not quite a snore, but loud enough.
“John?” You murmur, rubbing your eyes.
“Yeah, he texted me about an hour ago, asking if we wanted dinner.” Simon tells you.
“Dinner?” Johnny murmurs in a half-awake state.
“Bloody ‘ell, did’ya wake up at the mention of food?’ Simon quips with a soft rumble of a laugh against your ear. It sounds like he's purring…
Johnny scoots closer, taking up the space that Kyle had been in until now, his lips beginning to press kisses to your bare shoulder.
“I'm so sore…” You murmur, lamenting how sluggish you feel, not to mention your cotton mouth.
After your session, you had all taken turns showering and Simon had made sure to get you all to drink water, but that did little to help your sorry state.
“At least ye don't have a bum knee.” Johnny quips behind you.
“And don't pull a muscle while sitting down,” Simon remarks.
“Or fuck up your back while having a one night stand.” John announces when he shows up at the bedroom door, Kyle right behind him.
Besides Simon, John’s the only one that's dressed, a pair of dark blue jeans, a white undershirt and a brown sweater on top, his hair slightly disheveled from having taken off the beanie he usually wears as a civvy.
“Hi…!” You greet him lazily.
“Hi, darling.” John replies as he approaches the bed.
He drops a kiss to Simon’s head, a peck on the lips for you, and runs a hand over Johnny’s messy mohawk.
“I see you lot had some fun, hm?” John teases before crouching by the bedside.
“‘f course we did, sir.” Johnny jokes with what you know is a sly little smirk on his lips.
“How about you lot get dressed and get some food, hm?” He quipped and ran a hand through your hair as you remained warm sandwiched between Johnny and Simon. “I brought Indian.”
“Ooh, butter chicken?!” Johnny remarks and immediately bounces up, trampling over you and Simon to get off the bed, causing you both to groan.
“I just said I'm SORE!” You scold Johnny as he starts gathering his clothes, which Kyle is also doing for himself.
“Clearly not sore enough! Guess I didn't fuck yer throat hard enough if your mouth is still yapping.” Johnny retorts, causing you to gasp.
“Johnny-” Simon replies as he slowly shifts and stands up as if already threatening him with another fucking to get the attitude out of him again.
“Tough talk for someone that had a cock up the ass 3 hours ago.” Kyle quips from beside him.
“HAUD YER YEESHT! You’re just bitter Simon didn’t fuck ye!” Johnny retorts as he nudges Kyle, the two of them picking up on their usual bickering.
“I wouldn't count that as fucking, more like putting you in your place.” Simon replies swiftly, joining Kyle in tag teaming Johnny.
“My PLACE?!” Johnny gasps.
John takes a seat in the spot Simon had been occupying, letting you curl up to him instead as the lads descend into the madness that is their usual bickering.
John’s arms pull you up onto his lap, wrapping you in a warm hug, his chin resting on your shoulder as you both gaze at the loud men in your bedroom.
“I'm sorry you have to deal with them.” He tells you playfully.
“And I'm sorry that you've been dealing with them for so long.” You retort.
You both share a glance and a chuckle.
"You know if you ever want a break from them... I've got my own place..." John suggests with narrowed eyes and a smile, puffy cheeks lightly pink.
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captainfern · 3 months
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Hi fernie ☺️
I wanted to request some sweet time waking up next to Price/Gaz after getting back with them… these ex-husband and ex-boyfriend tropes are so bittersweet and I love them but I also crave some solid resolutions 😭 You can make this smut or pure fluff, whatever you want.
Thank you ❤️
ex-husband price, but the “ex” lays on significantly blurred lines now.
fem!reader, 18+ [unprotected piv, etc] — lazy writing/editing + formatting sorry
a/n: i’m so sorry for how late this is !! i’m literally terrible at completing my asks 😭 i hope this is good enough <3
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He had come crawling back to you last night.
Amidst the howling wind and the cold, sleeting rain, John appeared on your doorstep like a stray dog— hair wet and clinging to his forehead, his clothes soaked through, his lips quirked into a slightly embarrassed smile.
And then, then he looked at you with those warm eyes, his pupils expanding beneath the weight of his gaze, and you folded.
Of course you folded.
You let him inside, allowed him into the cradle of your very life. A life in which you had built around the absence of him.
The divorce happened a year ago. The constant strain of John being away, and the crippling loneliness his job brought you, was too much to bear. Without him, your home had felt like a shell of itself, so empty and quiet. Separation allowed you to make your own home not-so reliant on him.
And maybe it was hard. Maybe you did cry for him, yearn for him in the penetratingly dark hours of the morning— a want for his body pressed to yours, a need for his heat against your chilled skin.
But you had to move on. You were strong and, once the initial emptiness of your ring finger no longer bothered you, you were set free. The shackles of grief snapped and crumpled and allowed you to spring forth into a fresh life.
Yet, the night he appeared on your front step, cold and white like a wraith against a sea of black, you allowed him entry.
There was no hesitation like you convinced yourself there’d be. There was no sort of what the hell are you doing here, John? You simply sighed, your heart clenching beneath the calloused fingers of your reappearing grief, and stepped aside.
He had thanked you profusely.
And then broke down.
Still in his wet clothes, he hung his head and let tears well in his eyes, his hands balled into fists at his sides as he attempted to control his emotions. You watched him patiently, your own sadness itching tightly at the back of your throat.
He apologised. For everything you knew affected the relationship, and for everything he thought affected the relationship.
Long periods of absence, missing important milestones in your life and holidays, the strained communication when in the field. He apologised for it all, shaking and dripping like the lost dog he was.
When he looked up at you, eyes red and glossy with tears, his cheeks rouged beneath his facial hair and lips bitten from nervousness, you broke too.
Of course I miss you, tumbled from your lips. Of course I still think about you. Of course I haven’t been with anyone else. Of course I want you back—
The two of you broke like a dam, a crack of lightening outside acting as the starting gun, spurring you on as you moved in unison, meeting together in a searing kiss that made you whine out for him. But his groan of pleasure, of relief, was louder than any sound he had ever made before. It made your heart flutter.
That night, he held you so impossibly close to him that you feared you may sink into him— that your souls would intertwine within the heat of him, and you’d be stuck with him forever. But, after a moment, you realised it wasn’t fear. You’d happily seep into the grooves of his soul if he let you.
The next morning, you awoke bundled in his strong, warm arms, the coarse hairs a deliciously familiar juxtaposition against your soft flesh. You moaned quietly as you drifted awake.
John stirred behind you, the arm he had around your midriff moving, his large hand moving to splay across the curve of your bare tummy. He pressed against the warm fat, nose in the crook of your neck, nuzzling you. You whined when he gripped your tummy, but he just chuckled quietly with a kiss to the pulse beneath your ear.
Only now did you realise, against the warmth of the skin above your navel, that John was still wearing his wedding band.
It made your stomach flip.
Last night, while he had your knees to your ears, his cock heavy inside you, he asked about your rings.
“In the drawer— fuck— the bedside table—!” You moaned, his hips snapping forward, his stomach pressed to yours, pinning you to the bed.
He stopped only to lean over and open the drawer. Then, he fished out both your extravagant engagement ring, and the more simply wedding ring. Then, he resumed his thrusts, knocking another moan from your chest.
When you came around his cock with an earth-shattering orgasm, a moan of “Yes, John!” echoing through the room, he slipped the rings back onto your finger. Your sweet moans were a welcome nostalgia, a guilty-pleasure in this very moment. He came inside you after that.
Now, John was kissing the pulse behind your ear, arms around you, his chest to your back as he slotted one of his legs between yours, separating them so he could rut his hardening cock between the plushness of your thighs.
“I’ve missed you so much,” he whispered to you, the leaking tip of his cock rubbing against your wet folds, dipping in and out in a gentle rut with each movement of his hips. “I’ve missed my pretty wife.”
The hand on your stomach snaked down, brushing over your mound and then cupping you there, a finger pressing to the already swollen bud of your clit. He hummed when he began to run circles across it, slow and steady.
You mewled, arse moving backwards to press against him, then moving forward again to buck into his touch. The warmth of his cock between your thighs had your pussy fluttering, leaking.
“John…” You whispered, flexing the muscles of your thighs, the sensation against John’s cock making him groan. You begged, “Please, I need you.”
“Then you’ll have me,” he whispered back, the ruddy tip of his cock finally snagging against your entrance. He slowly, slowly began pushing inside, splitting you open with a soft, wet sound. He moaned against your neck. “You’ll have me forever, sweetheart. Whenever you want me, you’ll have me.”
John bottomed out with one final lazy snap of his hips against your arse. You both moaned, the air around you warm and thick like honey.
His cock reached so deeply inside you, nudging the pliant plug of your cervix with each rut. His movements never left you empty, keeping you stretched open around his girth. Your cunt squeezed him, dribbling along your inner thighs now as he rocked into you, the mattress creaking beneath you both.
The finger in your clit sped up, the circles deepening and quickening in pace, timed with his thrusts as they grew faster and faster, still lazy, but coordinated and intent on dragging you to release.
The pleasure was sickly sweet, parting the veil of sleep with ease. You could taste it on your tongue, the precipice of your orgasm, and the many more to come— sweet and warm against the wintery rain outside. Just like John.
“John…” You whimpered, your body tightening, sweat building along your already-dewy skin.
“That’s it, sweetheart, doing so well for me. My good girl. My pretty wife,” he praised, his cock hitting that perfect spot inside you every damn time. He drank in your moans, an elixir he had longed for since the moment you two separated, and continued his thrusts. Kissing your neck, he asked, “Will you marry me?”
“Yes—!” And you came around him, moaning loudly, writhing and spasming as your orgasm wracked through you. It was intense and hot and it had your pussy clenching around John’s cock like a vice.
Your acceptance made him moan, moan your name, and then come deep inside you, painting your slick walls white.
For a long while, he held you to him, cock still inside you, but the two of you weren’t in any hurry to part from one another. You felt sticky all over, skin tacky with sweat and cum, but you couldn’t care less. Wrapped up in your ex— your husband’s arms, was all that mattered.
“I love you,” John said to you. “Always have. Always will.”
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gxthicwxrm · 1 year
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My Bad, Man.
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Pairing: JJ Maybank x Fem Reader
Summary: being needy for JJ while he plays video games with Pope and John B.
Warnings: implied smut, cockwarming, mild dirty talk, implied/mentions of dom!jj and sub!reader at the end
Word Count: 703 words
This is my first OBX/JJ fic. Let me know if y'all want more for the show or this character, requests are open!!! Send them in, pls. Enjoy!!
---
“Dude! Get the fucking zombie. Don’t let it kill you! POPE! That’s it. I’m not reviving you.” You hear JJ, from the living room, scream into his mic on his headset as he jams the buttons on his controller. Rubbing the towel over your legs, you finish drying your body off and grab your underwear from the bed when an idea arises. With a smirk, you drop the material back into your underwear drawer before grabbing JJ’s shirt and draping it over your torso, then walk past his spot on the couch, making your way to the kitchen. The fabric meets near your mid-thigh, barely covering your bottom as you reach for the cup from the top shelf. 
“Guys! I’ve got this generator. Protect the others!” JJ demands, focused solely on the game before him, not noticing you moving about the kitchen. Filling your glass, you walk over to JJ and sit down the glass of sweet tea on the coaster before him. The sound of the glass finally gathers J’s attention as his gaze turns to you, a sweet smile painted on his face when he notices his shirt.
“You always wear them better than me.” He says, covering his mic before he gestures for you to come to him. Leaning down, you capture his lips when you feel his hands slide past your hips to grip your ass before smacking your skin. Feeling your naked skin leads his hands to wander lower as you let his tongue invades your lips. A growl erupts from the blonde under you as he grabs your thighs and pulls you to straddle him. 
“No panties? My needy girl.” He whispers against your lips as he adjusts himself, so his growing bulge rubs against your core, earning a moan from you before his hand snakes up your chest and then grip your neck, making you grind against him harder, only the thin fabric of his boxers between the two of you. As JJ leans back and starts pulling down his boxers, Pope screams through the mic reminding JJ of the game. Neither of you realized his controller had fallen to the carpet when you straddled him, causing his character in the game to no longer to protect what he was supposed to. 
“JJ Maybank! Protect the damn generator!” Pope's yells are muffled but clear as you smirk at your boyfriend, who gives you a knowing look. With a nod, he removed his boxers before you gave him his controller and let him wrap his arms around your waist as he lowered you onto his cock. Biting your lip, you close your eyes as you try to focus on the feeling of him stretching you, then lay your head on JJ’s shoulder, peppering kisses along his jawline.
“Damn, you’re so perfect. You take me so well, baby.” JJ groans as you shift to wrap your legs around his waist, driving him deeper and making you bury your face in his neck. JJ allows you time to adjust before pulling the mic back to his face.
“Shit, I’m sorry, guys. I spilled my drink and had to get a towel. My bad, man.” JJ attempts to convince them.
“Yeah. Sure. I bet you were making out with Y/N.” You could practically hear John B’s smirk through the microphone. JJ laughs, causing his hips to move, making an unexpeave your lips.
“Oh, my god! Are they fucking right now? What the fuck?” Pope' had to move the left side of his headphone, making you able to hear them better as well. 
“What? No! Never.” JJ’s holding you to him as he giggles uncontrollably.
“I’m done. You all are gross.” John B and Pope say in unison, making you and JJ laugh harder.  Once both of your friends leave the game, JJ turns off the console before tossing the controller to the other side of the couch. 
“You ready, pretty girl?” JJ’s full attention is now on you, making you bashful as you feel yourself start to submit to him as his lustful eyes look over your body before stopping on your lips, his tongue wetting his own. 
“Yes, sir.”
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lunarduty · 5 months
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𝙋𝙊𝙄𝙎𝙊𝙉𝙀𝘿 𝙏𝙊𝙉𝙂𝙐𝙀
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☾ how the cod men eat pussy. 141 + ALEJANDRO + RUDY + GRAVES + FRANK X F!READER TAGS | nsfw. smut. oral (female receiving). female reader. WC | 1,029
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JOHN PRICE is patient, methodical, and just a little bit sadistic - a recipe for a man who will eat you out slowly and thoroughly and string you along until he decides you deserve to cum. he’s relentless and a quick learner, and will go out of his way to learn every single way to wind you up and make you needy on his tongue. his sadism comes through when you’re teetering on the edge of an orgasm - teasing you about cumming so quickly, but ultimately forcing you over with a quirk of his fingers because john can never deny you anything. he likes to watch you fall apart. takes a selfish pleasure in hearing his own name tumble from your lips.
GAZ eats you out like he’s starving. intent on satisfying his needs and yours. he’s usually pretty sweet and gentle about it - paying compliments whenever he can, telling you how pretty you sound, proud that you’re falling apart so fucking easily. gaz does have a habit of withdrawing just a little when things get intense and he’s really trying to make you cum. he takes his missions very seriously and would wholly focus on finding the right rhythm of tongue and fingers. moans alongside you when you finally cum, and he always watches when you do. for gaz, there’s very little else he loves than watching your body keen on his tongue.
SOAP knows his way around a pussy. pretty experienced, and yet, he loves the thrill of learning new tricks that make you breathe out his name like a prayer. he’s very touchy - kissing your thighs, gripping your hips, letting his breath waft over your clit without actually touching you. soap likes to wind you up for the sole purpose of making you desperate - he likes it when you rock up against his face. craving more of him and seeking out what you want and soap fully lets you ride his tongue, groaning out praise as you do so. he can get a little carried away, and you’ll probably have some bruises on your hips in the morning. definitely french kisses you afterwards, making it a point to let you know just how fucking good you taste.
GHOST has the tendency to get too serious when going down on you. he mainly just tries to give it his all, wanting you to enjoy yourself. he goes quiet in the beginning but it isn’t long until ghost fully lets his walls down. groaning against your pussy, cock throbbing in his pants when your thighs lock around his head, and he gets kinda pussy drunk. you can pull at his hair, suffocate him between your thighs, moan loud enough for the neighbors to hear - he doesn’t care. not when you’re finally cumming on his fingers and ghost can’t help but remember how good you feel around his cock so he’s pulling himself away from you before you fully finish cumming and he’s tugging his pants down and…
ALEJANDRO is always very eager to eat you out any time you let him. loves getting nasty with it and making a huge mess on whatever surface he put you on. sitting on his face and riding his tongue is probably his most favorite - he just thinks there’s something very hot about having his hands on your waist, controlling the way you grind down against his mouth. and when you get close, it’s like alejandro does, too - gets very vocal to match your moans and loves to dirty talk because it always winds you up even more and you always look the most beautiful when you’re cumming with a hint of bashfulness on your face. you’ll cum hard and quick and alejandro will just keep going.
RUDOLFO is slow and sweet, taking his time to kiss every inch of skin and make sure the mood is perfect before finally giving you his mouth. asks you frequently if you’re enjoying it and has a surprisingly potent praise kink - rudy works even better when you tell him exactly how good he’s making you feel and how much you want him to make you cum. he absolutely lives for the little things, like your fingers curling into his hair or the breathless version of his name or the light squeeze of your thighs against his ears. he very purposefully builds up your orgasm at a gradual pace before letting it hit all at once - rudy is so sweet, but he gets a sick sort of pleasure from making you cum so hard, you don’t even realize he’s kissing you until you can taste yourself on his tongue.
GRAVES likes to brag that he can make you cum in under three minutes and it’s even worse knowing that he absolutely can. he gets almost aggressive in the way he eats you out - barely allowing you a break, constantly turning the tables on you, never letting you predict his next move. physical contact can soften him up though. caress his hair and face and you can convince him to slow down for a little bit, allowing himself a chance to just watch you ride his fingers. but fuck, graves loves the way you look and taste and he’ll tell you about every single detail between flicks of his tongue. his arrogance can get annoying, but when he makes you cum until you’re going blind, and then asks if he should keep going, it’s easy to forgive.
FRANK WOODS will eat you out in any way you want him to, just as long as he can - he’s not fuckin’ picky. he’ll always be wearing a cocky little grin when he gets you so completely lost, and will say something to the effect of turning you stupid. can and has used his whole arm to hold you down when he was feeling particularly cruel and you’re bucking your hips desperately. this is usually the time frank likes to mix things up, just to keep you on your toes - using a hint of teeth, adding another finger, groaning loudly against your clit. and after your orgasm, he’ll just keep pumping his fingers until you have to physically pull him off you.
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cherienymphe · 4 months
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Teenage Dirtbag VIII (JJ Maybank x Reader x Rafe Cameron)
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Warnings: NON-CON, DUB-CON, abusive relationship, domestic violence, violence (+ gun violence), gun kink, dacryphilia, attempted murder, mentions of blood, public sex, jealousy, manipulation, infidelity, underage drinking, drug use, canon ages, kook!reader
➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies | ➥ divider by @firefly-graphics
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➥ series masterlist
summary: You’re charmingly spoiled. You’re too kind for your own good. You’re the princess of Figure 8 …and you’re way out of JJ Maybank’s league, but when he realizes that Rafe Cameron’s pride and joy is actually a bruised and battered damsel, he’s determined to save you.
Your rescue just comes with a price.
~
“Rafe would never…”
Sarah’s loud huff reached your ears as you shrugged at her, making yourself some breakfast. The man in question was sleeping in, breathing evenly when you left his room. You’d been sleeping over at his house more as of late, and while Rafe was under the impression it was some attempt to show how bad you felt for ‘defending’ JJ at that party weeks ago…
Only you knew the truth.
JJ had kissed you.
…and you’d kissed him back.
His show of ‘taking it’ did not in fact make you feel better because you both knew it was a lie—a poor attempt to absolve you of responsibility. To lessen your role in it when in truth…you hadn’t even tried to fight back. Not really. You’d allowed it to happen, and you couldn’t decide if you regretted it or not. On one hand, the kiss was something you hadn’t been able to stop thinking about for weeks, and on the other…
You’d cheated on your boyfriend.
The thought of what you did made you nauseous, and not because you didn’t want to hurt Rafe…but because you didn’t want him to hurt you. You thought about that day JJ had smiled at you in The Wreck, back when you barely even knew him, and you thought about how you’d smiled back—something so harmless. You would never forget the feel of that gun in your mouth. You would never forget the fear that weighed down on you.
Heavy enough to make you call the police.
You’d allowed something to happen that shouldn’t have, but that didn’t mean it needed to happen again. Hiding one kiss from Rafe was doable. Hiding anything more… You didn’t even want to let your mind wander into dangerous territory. There wasn’t going to be anything else to hide, and yet…even as you thought that…you couldn’t help but to entertain the thought.
You really really liked being around JJ, and to make matters worse, you liked kissing him even more. It had sparked something in you that you weren’t sure you liked. You recalled how on edge you’d been that night. So much so that when Rafe kissed you, you’d been eager to kiss him back. What kind of girlfriend were you to imagine someone else while having sex with your boyfriend?
It wasn’t right, and you couldn’t afford to make another mistake, and that’s why you weren’t keen on the conversation you were having with Sarah at the moment.
“Come on,” Sarah pleaded. “We’re literally going to be at Kie’s house instead of John B.’s because of you.”
You paused, eyeing her.
“I know that Rafe will never be convinced to let you go all the way to The Cut, so Kie offered up her place,” Sarah explained with a shrug. “Her parents are out of town, and they reluctantly approved having some friends over.”
You thought on that with a small frown.
“…and it’ll just be us girls.”
That eased your worry, and you sighed.
“Say the word, and I’ll talk to Rafe myself. He already knows I think he’s way too controlling with you,” she said, rolling her eyes. “I’ll argue with him about this until I’m blue in the face.”
You eyed her again, chewing on your lip at the thought. You’d had a lot of fun the last time you hung out with them, and the knowledge that JJ wouldn’t be around did make you feel better. After that night in front of your pool house, you weren’t sure you trusted yourself around him. He made you feel things that reminded you too much of what it was like to be…happy.
It was an addicting feeling.
“…okay,” you reluctantly said to her, voice soft.
Sarah’s half smile was wicked, and you chuckled at her, watching her run upstairs with a shake of your head.
You didn’t quite understand why Sarah had taken it upon herself to pull you into her social life, but you didn’t think you were mad about it anymore. Rafe was your present and future, and as much as the thought depressed you, you imagined your future would be a lot bleaker if you weren’t at least friends with his sister. Wheezie was great too, but she was so much younger than you.
When Rafe finally came downstairs almost an hour later, you didn’t need to be a genius to know that Sarah had woken him up in order to plead her case. Your boyfriend didn’t look the most enthusiastic when your eyes met his, and you fixed him with a pleading look of your own.
“It’s just going to be the girls,” you quietly reassured him as he neared you. “…and we’re going to be at Kiara’s.”
“That’s reassuring,” he snorted, and the sarcasm was strong in his tone.
You resisted the urge to sigh.
“What do you think is going to happen with Sarah, Kiara, and Cleo?” you argued. “Worst case scenario we watch movies, get drunk, and you have to pick me up.”
You could see the thought process behind Rafe’s eyes, and when he eventually gripped your chin between his fingers, relief filled you. Rafe’s kiss was soft, lips gently touching yours, and like with many kisses in the weeks passed, you couldn’t help but to think about whose it wasn’t.
“I guess I can humor Sarah, so I won’t have to hear her bullshit,” he murmured, and you gave him a small smile. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear she was trying to steal you from me.”
Rafe’s tone was humorous, but you swore there was a glimmer of seriousness in his gaze. Despite that, you gave a nervous chuckle.
“No one can steal me from you, Rafe.”
He eyed you, tracing his gaze over your face, and you swallowed as Rafe tilted his head.
“I know that,” he said matter-of-factly. “…and you know that too.”
When he kissed you again, you kissed him back.
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“What? Cleo, you have to come,” you told her. “I’ll invite you myself.”
You could hear Sarah and Kiara making some more drinks in the kitchen behind you. The girl before you made a face, and you laughed at the disgust there.
“Spending all night with a bunch of stuffy Kooks? No, thank you,” she said with a shake of her head.
You took another sip of your drink with a hum.
“It’s actually more fun than you think,” you reassured her. “…and plus you get to dress up like a princess.”
“You are an actual princess, so of course you’d say that.”
“Are you guys talking about Midsummers?” Sarah wondered, rejoining you two. “Y/N, give it up. You’ll never get Cleo to go in a million years.”
She handed you a new fruity drink.
“Kie is technically a Kook, and even she doesn’t like going.”
The girl in question sat down across from you, and you looked at her in wonder.
“Really? Why not?”
The brunette wasn’t the most talkative with you, but that didn’t stop you from trying. You recalled Sarah’s comment about Kiara’s distrust—something you didn’t blame her for—but you were relieved to see that she was loosening up around you. Even if it was only because of the alcohol.
“…because it’s classist and consumerist, and a gross display of the disparity in wealth on this island. I mean, it’s full of people discussing the pros and cons of a second home when other people on this island need a second job to get by,” she told you. “The whole thing disgusts me.”
Kiara said all of this evenly, like it was something that easily flew off of her tongue, and you found yourself gazing into your drink.
“I guess I never thought about it like that…”
…and you hadn’t. It was such a regular part of your life that you had never seen it in an even remotely negative way. You always loved going to Midsummers, dressing up and taking part in something you’d never thought to question. Kiara was right, you supposed. Outer Banks was the kind of place where you either had two jobs or two houses, and you found yourself thinking about a familiar blond.
JJ’s less fortunate circumstances had never been lost on you. After all, you recognized your privilege to have a pool house and offered it to him. However, you had never stopped to really think about the somewhat ridiculousness of that though. The fact that you even had an extra house—no matter how small—to offer him.
You took a sip of your drink.
“I promise I’m not trying to radicalize you or anything,” the other girl sighed. “I just hate all the grand tone deaf displays on this side of the island.”
You were just about to tell her that it was more than okay when Cleo perked up.
“Is someone outside?”
You frowned at her, but Sarah and Kiara turned towards the window, and Sarah’s groan made your heart sink for some reason.
“I told them it was just going to be us girls,” she complained, pushing herself to her feet.
She swayed a bit as she did, and you were reminded of how many drinks you’d had. You didn’t need to be a genius to know who she was talking about, and—out of nervousness or confusion on what to do with your hands—you downed the rest of your drink. You stood on unsteady feet, silently making your way to the kitchen just as you heard John B.’s voice.
“Plenty of times you’ve crashed guys night,” you heard him laugh. “Sucks, doesn’t it? Hey, whose car is that outside?”
You focused on making another drink as Sarah told him it was yours, and surprisingly, your heart wasn’t threatening to leap out of your chest. You blamed the alcohol for your calm demeanor because you knew that if you were sober, you would be a lot more panicked at the arrival of John B., Pope…and JJ.
You hadn’t seen the blond since that night, but you had seen the occasional light on in the pool house, so you knew that he was periodically sleeping there. You didn’t exactly know how you were going to act around him, now. After all, he’d kissed you and touched you in ways that a friend definitely shouldn’t. Doubly so since you had a boyfriend.
You paused to think about that, wondering if you could call JJ a friend. He couldn’t be your friend and trying to refer to him as one seemed so disingenuous for so many reasons. For starters, JJ made it very clear that he had no intention of being your friend, and all he’d done since that day was prove that to you. JJ couldn’t be your…anything.
When you reentered the living room with a fresh drink, he was standing by the couch where Kie sat. The brunette was talking to Cleo and Pope about something while the blonde’s eyes focused on you the moment you stepped into the room. You tried to ignore the way he straightened, and the way he eyed you, glancing away and taking a sip of your drink.
You were thinking to yourself that you should leave…but you weren’t exactly in any condition to drive and calling Rafe would only lead to trouble. You really didn’t want to fathom how he’d react to pulling into the yard and seeing John B.’s van. As if reading your mind, Sarah left her boyfriend and hurried over to you.
“I know they’re not supposed to be here,” she started.
“Yeah,” you slurred. “It’s literally the only reason Rafe let me come.”
Sarah pressed her lips together, and the sheepish look on her face let you know that you weren’t going to like what she said next.
“John B. wants us all to go back to The Chateau…”
“Sarah.”
You were drunk, but not too drunk to ignore what an incredibly bad idea that was for you. Your eyes were wide as you looked at her, and she reached for you.
“He’s going to bring us back later tonight,” she explained. “They’ll be gone, and you can call Rafe to come get you.”
“Why do I have to go? Why are we going, anyway?”
Sarah rolled her eyes.
“…because JJ rolled a few blunts, and Kie does not want her parents’ house smelling like weed. Which is valid, I guess…”
You sighed as she trailed off. Even if you weren’t several drinks into the night, you’d probably still be tempted to go. However, if you were sober, you knew that you’d turn the suggestion down without hesitation and stand firm in that. At the moment, though, you were incredibly interested. You didn’t want to ruin everyone else’s fun, and in truth, you enjoyed sitting around fire with Sarah’s friends. The plan sounded solid in theory, but you were unsure…
“I don’t know, Sarah…” you glanced away, ignoring JJ’s gaze. “If Rafe found out I went to the other side of the island with you…”
Just as Sarah was about to speak, the last person you wanted spoke instead.
“She can stay for a little bit, Sarah, and then I’ll drive her back.”
Your eyes met a familiar blue pair, and Sarah turned around with a smile. JJ’s hands were shoved into his pockets, and despite the fact that he’d said it to Sarah, his gaze was focused on you. He swiped his tongue between his lips as he waited for what you had to say, Sarah eventually joining as she turned to look at you again.
“My bike’s at John B.’s, so I can take you back whenever you want,” he said with a shrug.
It was odd. You recognized that JJ was the last person you should be around, and yet, all you wanted to do was take him up on his offer. Were you really about to risk fucking up so badly just to steal twenty minutes alone with JJ? You eyed him, and just then your phone vibrated, heart skipping a beat when you saw a text from Rafe. You stared at the words on the screen for a minute, reading them over and over again.
Rafe wanted to know what ‘you girls’ were up to…and with shaky fingers, you told him you were about to watch a movie, buying yourself two hours. Carefully placing your phone on the side table, you told the two blondes in front of you ‘okay’. Sarah beamed while you simply avoided JJ’s heated gaze.
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You were nursing a beer while Sarah drunkenly told the story of how she lost her virginity to John B.—in a church of all places. Your gaze was focused on the dirt and grass beneath your shoes, not really a participant in the conversation. Cleo was to your left…while JJ was to your right, and the presence of the blond was getting harder and harder to ignore.
The ride over had been awkward for you and sitting around a fire with Sarah’s friends felt even less so. Already drunker than you would like to be, you’d declined Pope’s offer when he’d tried to pass you the blunt in the van on the way over. The last thing you needed was to become even more paranoid than you already were.
You’d left both your phone and your car at Kie’s, but you couldn’t stop worrying that something was going to go wrong. You’d told Rafe that you were about to watch a movie, hoping he’d get the hint not to reach out to you for at least two hours, but it would be just like him to call or swing by unannounced. You knew this was a bad idea, and now even more so because you couldn’t even relax enough to enjoy yourself.
“What about you?”
You didn’t get the hint that Kie was talking to you—not even when JJ tensed—until Sarah made a very loud noise of protest.
“No, no, absolutely not!” the blonde loudly said, waving her arms. “What did I say about asking Y/N sex questions?”
John B. snorted.
“First time stories barely count, to be honest. They’re almost always bad…and short,” he chuckled.
“I don’t care,” she cried, pressing her fingers to her eyes. “She’s dating my brother.”
“…yeah, but we’re talking about her first time. That…”
John B. trailed off at the look Sarah gave him, and you sheepishly shrugged when everyone slowly looked at you.
“Unfortunately, Sarah is correct in her assumption,” you admitted. “My first time does involve Rafe.”
There was a visceral and audible reaction at that, and Sarah looked vindicated.
“Yeah, move on to someone else,” she pleaded with a laugh.
The brief mention of Rafe had your heart sinking again, and as Cleo’s voice filled your ears, you were pulled from your thoughts by the feel of JJ’s fingers grazing yours. You flinched from shock, glancing up to meet his gaze as he reached for your beer. No one else was paying attention, too busy laughing at whatever Cleo said.
You didn’t look away from JJ as he took your drink, watching as he brought the bottle to his own lips. The sight reminded you of what it’d felt like to touch those lips, and you could feel yours parting, sharply inhaling as you tried to force yourself to look away. His blue eyes looked between yours, and JJ spoke when he lowered his hand.
“Whenever you’re ready to go…just let me know,” he whispered to you.
“I’m not,” you replied just as quietly, taking your beer back.
When Pope suggested firing up the hot tub—otherwise dubbed as The Cat’s Ass—you declined. JJ did too, and none of them gave it a second thought as Cleo asked Sarah if she had an extra bathing suit top lying around John B.’s place. You took the opportunity to stand, pausing as the world spun a bit, before making your way to the dock.
Even if his footsteps were quiet, you knew that JJ was following you, and trying to keep yourself from doing something you’d regret again, you continued the conversation from earlier.
“What was your first time like?” you wondered with a smile, passing him your beer.
JJ seemed to see right through you, respecting your decision to avoid the elephant in the room, and he chuckled. You sat down at the end of the dock, looking up at him as he stared out into the water. The blond made a face, and you chuckled.
“Uh, it pretty much goes how you would expect,” he lightly said. “Except for Sarah obviously…”
JJ sat down next to you.
“Some girl I was really into…we had a few beers at her place while her parents were gone and…it lasted all of three minutes,” he proudly said. “I was fifteen.”
You rested your chin on your knees.
“Was she pretty?”
JJ threw you a crooked smile.
“She was,” he told you. “Are you jealous?”
You rolled your eyes, looking out into the water.
“You’re not my boyfriend, JJ. Why would I be…”
He didn’t respond right away at that, and again, you wracked your brain as to how you would avoid talking about what happened the last time you saw him. You were torn between wanting to talk about it, wanting to kiss him again, and just plain running away. A conversation with JJ didn’t seem so harmless, now. Not after he’d kissed you and flat out told you that he didn’t respect your relationship nor your boyfriend.
“What about your first time?”
Somehow, you hadn’t expected that, and you tensed.
For a brief moment, you were back in the Cameron house, trying to back away from Rafe as he yelled at you about something so insignificant. Your chest clenched painfully as you recalled that day, and you blinked, clearing your throat.
“You don’t want to hear about that.”
“I know it was with Rafe, but…I can forget that for the sake of this conversation, I promise,” JJ teasingly said, a hand on his chest when you looked at him. “Scout’s honor that I won’t gag.”
You gave a light laugh, straightening and shaking your head.
“Trust me, JJ, it’s not really something you want to hear.”
There was a brief pause.
“What? Was…was it that bad? Are you telling me Rafe Cameron is bad in bed? Who would’ve thought,” he mockingly commented.
You looked at him, opening and closing your mouth before letting out a sigh.
“It wasn’t like that,” you slowly told him with a sad smile. “I just mean… It’s kind of a mood killer. Not exactly a nice story.”
You could recognize that all of the drinks in your system had you being less reserved with your words than usual, and you watched JJ blink. A slow frown formed over his features, and you watched him run his gaze over you.
“What does that mean?” JJ slowly asked. “Are you saying he hurt you or something…?”
“No,” you were quick to argue. “No, it’s not…”
You huffed, looking out at the water.
“That’s not what I mean,” you sighed. “I just mean it’s not a fun little campfire story.”
“…and I’m asking you what the hell does that mean?” he chuckled, but it didn’t sound humorous. “Like…you realize you’re scaring me a little, right?”
When you looked at JJ again, you could see how true that was, and your chest lowered as you exhaled through your nose. You turned away from him again, taking in the sight of the half moon’s reflection in the water. You could feel JJ’s gaze on you as you thought it over, realizing that he wasn’t going to drop it, and if you were just an okay liar when sober, you could only imagine how bad you were when you were drunk.
Taking back the beer, you quickly drank the rest of it, hating the way your words slurred a bit when you spoke.
“It was…maybe about a month after my nineteenth birthday,” you mumbled, staring at the water despite not really seeing it. “…and Rafe was…mad.”
You shook your head, remembering the venom in his voice and the way his nostrils flared and that plain old mean look in his eyes.
“It was so stupid…and I was so confused,” you said with a frown. “…and I just wanted to leave and talk about it in the morning.”
You scoffed, reminded of Rafe cornering you against the wall.
“…but Rafe wouldn’t let me. Every time I tried, he… He wanted a fight,” you shrugged. “…and then he grabbed me…”
You could see him shaking you as you stared out into the water. You could see it like it happened yesterday, and you could hear him screaming at you and sneering at you before shoving you so hard you fell against the counter. There hadn’t been any point in trying to get up…and then he was there—on you and tearing at your dress.
“…and,” you quietly dragged out. “He just didn’t care what I wanted.”
You forgot all about JJ as you watched yourself scream and push against your boyfriend. To this day, you didn’t know if the alcohol in your system that night helped or hindered you. You swore that it made the memory that much more vivid, but at the same time, maybe it dulled it much more than you knew. As you remembered Rafe’s panic when his family pulled up and the way he all but dragged you upstairs, you forgot that you were sitting on John B.’s dock all the way on the other side of the island.
For a moment you were back in that house on that day, crying on the floor of Rafe’s bedroom.
You forgot that you weren’t actually there…until JJ spoke.
“Are you joking?”
His question came out harsh, startling you, and when you looked at JJ again, there was a deep frown on his face. His brows were tightly drawn together, and his lips were parted, a mixture of confusion and disbelief and horror covering his features.
“You are joking, right?”
You licked your lips, trying to gather your thoughts.
“JJ…things were…really bad then-.”
“What does that mean? ‘Bad then’…what…?” JJ scoffed, pressing his head into his hands. “What does that mean? What does that even mean because what you just described…”
JJ gestured to you, wide eyes blinking.
“He raped you,” he stated in shock. “You just told me…that your boyfriend…raped you, and all you can say is that things were bad then?”
JJ’s voice was getting louder, and you looked towards the yard, relieved to hear the rest of them still laughing in the hot tub.
“I’m saying that that doesn’t really happen anymore and…”
You trailed off when JJ stood, following his lead, and you absolutely hated the way he was looking at you.
“This has happened more than once.”
He said it more like a statement than a question, but his tone indicated that he wanted an answer…or more specifically confirmation.
“I’m just saying that this isn’t as big of a deal as you’re trying to make it,” you breathed. “You know Rafe. You’ve met him, you’ve fought him, you know what he can be like!”
JJ just stared at you, not moving, and you nervously peeked towards the yard again. JJ noticed, and he blinked at you, a look on his face that you couldn’t place. Yes, what Rafe did was wrong, but you couldn’t exactly flat out say why you stayed with a man who raped you. You didn’t have much choice but to downplay it, attempting to get JJ to see it your way, but it turned out that your efforts were in vain.
“Does he hurt you?”
The question came out so quietly that you almost didn’t hear him, and once it registered, you froze. You could hear your heart thumping in your ears, and the rest of Sarah’s friends sounded so far away. Your vision swam for the briefest of moments, and you touched your temple. Your drunk brain was scrambling, and you answered too late.
“What?” you whispered.
JJ blinked a few times, lips parting, and you watched him reach up to run his hands through his hair.
“I feel like an idiot,” he whispered. “I feel so stupid.”
Your breath was shaky, and you shook your head.
“JJ, no, it’s not… It’s not like that,” you slowly tried to explain.
That seemed to make him angry, and the look JJ gave you made your blood run cold.
“No?” he wondered, nostrils flaring. “Alright, okay.”
He reached for his phone, turning from you.
“I don’t really feel sober enough to take you home, so hey. Why don’t I get Rafe’s number from Sarah, and since it’s not like that, he’ll only be a little mad-.”
He cut himself off at the feel of you yanking on his sleeve, forcing him to a stop. Your fingers were digging into his skin through the fabric when he turned to face you, and your lips were trembling, but you both knew it wasn’t from the cold. Your gaze was pleading when his eyes met yours again, and JJ’s jaw ticked at your silent—but obvious—answer to his question.
The blonde’s gaze softened as he stared at you, and you could see the reality of the answer to his question finally hitting him. He slowly fully faced you, pressing his lips together as he looked at you, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d swear he was going over every interaction in his mind.
“Please don’t tell Sarah,” you whispered, and JJ looked at you in disbelief.
“That…that’s what you’re worried about?” he gasped. “You don’t want me to tell Sarah? Fuck Sarah, I should be telling the police.”
“You don’t get it,” you choked out with a shake of your head, fighting back tears.
“Don’t get what? What am I not getting? Why are you still with…? How long has this been going on?”
You turned away from JJ, pressing the tips of your fingers to your forehead. JJ followed you down the dock, and you only realized you were crying when your face felt so much colder.
“Why-?”
“He will kill me!”
When you looked at JJ again, you were full on sobbing, now. You pressed your hands to your neck, staring at him through your tears as JJ just stood frozen. You glanced away, pressing one hand to your mouth while the other wrapped around your waist. You hadn’t meant to blurt that out, but once you did, it was like you couldn’t stop.
“You don’t think I’ve tried to leave? Huh?” you cried. “You don’t think that I’ve tried to break up with him? Tried to…fight back?”
“Hey,” JJ whispered, approaching you.
“He’ll kill me,” you sobbed. “…and this isn’t-this isn’t something I think, this is something I know. He’s tried to before.”
JJ paused at that, but it was brief, and he quickly pulled you into his arms. He tightened them around you as he held you, trying to shush you, but it was a futile attempt. You didn’t know if it was all the drinks you’d had—or simply the feeling of finally telling someone—but you couldn’t stop crying no matter how much you tried. In the back of your mind, you felt that you’d regret this in the morning.
However, a part of you—a part that resided in your chest—felt so relieved.
You pressed your face into JJ’s shoulder as he tried to quiet you, running his hands over your back. You could feel a headache coming on, probably from both the tears and the drinks, and the turn this night had taken only made you want to lie down. You didn’t even know how you were going to pull yourself together in time to go back home to Rafe.
You could feel JJ’s hand on the back of your neck, and when he turned his head—and turned yours—your lips met.
It took you by surprise, making your breath hitch, and if JJ minded the saltiness of the kiss, he didn’t speak on it. This kiss wasn’t like the first one, and even though you couldn’t tell how exactly, it just felt different. You could still hear Sarah and her friends talking and whatnot in the hot tub, none the wiser to what was taking place on the dark dock. JJ’s thumbs brushed your tears away as he moved his lips against yours, and you remembered that this was something you weren’t going to do again.
You tried to pull away, but JJ wouldn’t let you, humming into the kiss.
You didn’t want to stop, but you knew that you needed to. The night had not gone how you thought it would, and it was time to go home. Your mind was going a mile a minute with the knowledge that you’d told JJ the truth and the fact that he was kissing you again. The alcohol in your system had contributed to too many bad decisions tonight, and you literally feared what tomorrow would bring as you kept kissing JJ on the dock.
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UR...SMUT...IS...AMAZING... COULD YOU DO headcans of 141 and Kõnig and their fave sex positions? Thanks!
Hehe, thank you! I'm not super confident with it, but I appreciate all the support and compliments!🩷🩵
Added a little extra to this one!!! Did a general hc!
141 + König Favorite Sex Positions/ How They Enjoy Sex
Warnings: sexual references, swearing
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Simon Ghost Riley-
MISSIONARY!!!!!!!
Simon's not a particularly rough lover, especially given his traumatic past, so to him, there's nothing better than being on top of you and taking this slow
That's not to say this man doesn't go HAM on you sometimes. If he gets horny enough, or stressed enough, this man will POUND you into the mattress
Huge fan of eye contact during missionary, too
He doesn't get too experimental, but he'll try just about anything if you ask
He's a giver 100% and loves to go down on you
He'll very rarely ask you to go down on him, but won't ever say no if you offer
He's primarily the dominant partner in bed but will let you take control every so often
Takes sex seriously, and before you, I honestly don't think he was one to just sleep around
NOT a fan of quickies. Liles to draw the pleasure out for both of you for as long as he can
Gets HORRIBLY embarrassed if he cums too quick if it's been awhile since you two had sex, and will make it up to you 10 times over
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König-
YOU ON TOP!!!!!!!
König is very conscious about his size and has fears he may crush you in bed, so he prefers if you're on top
If you get too tired, or don't want to be on top, he'll pull you to the edge of the bed while you're on your back, so he can fuck you while he's standing
Took you two while to have sex for the first time, I stan this man was a virgin before you, and he was very nervous
If he's feeling particularly kinky, he'll carry you so your legs wrap around his waist, while he fucks up into you (preferably in the shower)
Man has a raging size kink
LOVES giving and receiving oral. Let's just say he's very skilled with his mouth
You are the dom in bed. Again Königs always worried he'll crush you, so you have to take the lead
Constantly reassures you that you're doing well, that you're beautiful, and that he loves you
Makes you feel so good about yourself, both in physical and emotion ways
Man will NOT let himself cum until you do first. And if he happens to cum before you, he'll apologize profusely
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Johnny Soap MacTavish-
Literally any position, just please fuck this man
If he HAD to choose, mating press is probably his favorite
LOVES the way you feel, squeezing around his cock while he's pushing your legs against your head
Is totally up for trying new positions. In fact, he probably looks some up in his free time that he wants to try
Also, it isn't opposed to toys. He prefers to get you off on his own, but he won't protest if you want to add in something extra
If he ever goes down on you, it's with you sitting on his face. He loves being suffocated by you
One of his kinks is role-playing, and if it's something you're into as well? Oh boy
Be prepared to laugh during sex with him. He doesn't take it too seriously and just wants to have fun with it
When he does take sex seriously, it's usually a very loving affair. He'll be overly gentle as he whispers sweet words in your ears
Overall, he's a very fun partner to have in bed. Sex is never, ever dull with him
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John Price-
Doggy. Doggy. Doggy. Doggy.
Drives him fucking wild
Also thoroughly enjoys shower sex
He's such an ass man, so it's the best angle for him to get the perfect view of your ass while simultaneously pounding into you
If you have longer hair, this man will definitely be using his hand as a makeshift ponytail to yank on while he fucks you
Isn't opposed to you being on top, and he won't last long if you do reverse cowgirl. Again, this man is an ASS man
Raging Daddy Kink (obviously)
Honestly? He's a mean dom, but will never go far enough to where it truly hurts you
Handcuffs, blindfolds, whips- this man is here for all of it
This man will RARELY let you take the lead. He's a man of control and likes to show that in the bedroom outside?
100% will make you beg him to let you cum
Loves, loves to spank you. Drives him feral when he sees his hand prints on your ass cheeks
Will most definitely take it slow if you ask, man has a wicked romantic side
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Kyle Gaz Garrick-
Truly believe this man "makes love", and doesn't "fuck", at least not habitually
He LOVES having sex with you when you're both in bed, laying on your sides
Enjoys leaving love bites all over your neck and chest. Likes to know you're marked as his
He's fairly "vanilla" in bed, he just doesn't understand the appeal of all the toys and "extra stuff"
But he NEVER leaves you feeling unsatisfied
He will work for hours to get you to cum if that's what it takes
100% a soft dom. Doesn't like making you do any work unless you absolutely want to
He's not necessarily opposed to trying new stuff out, he just gets nervous
Firm believer that your first time with him, was on a bed covered in rose petals, he wanted your first time with him to be special
Like the others though, if you ask this man to fuck you senseless, he would, but not often
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Am I writing too much smut? Feel like I should be throwing some fluff in here🤣🫡
Also, I wanted to note again that I'm doing my very best to keep all of these GN, unless gender is specifically stated in ask! If I slip up anywhere, please don't hesitate to tell me!!🙂🩷
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diejager · 6 months
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JAKAJWIH I just saw this post and https://www.tumblr.com/citrusbunnies/732151502028898304
I can’t help but imagine deer!hybrid reader that’s with 141, and they/she/he (it doesn’t matter lol) walked out of the bushes or woods to the team inside and their reaction to it!
Also I LOVE your work, every time I see that you have posted wether it be recently or if they are older and they just appear in my feed. I get excited! 😭 also if you don’t wanna do this, feel free to ignore COMPLETELY! I just saw this and I thought it was so cute😭😭
That deer image is actually funny… this drabble though, not so much.
Doe Cw: hybrid, DARKFIC, IMPLIED DUB-CON/NON-CON, kidnapping, training, implied sex, tell me if I missed any.
They cued in on the rustling sound, bushes ruffling against an unknown body hiding behind the tree line, moving as if they were unaware of the men or uncaring of danger. Rifles pointed towards the source, Price held control of the situation, aware of the danger when hunting feral hybrids. Ferals were unpredictable, unable to find the distinction between friend or foe, but they were smart, cunning and weren’t shy to group together, forming hunting packs. Those that were impossible to rehabilitate would stay in the wild, some causing trouble and others keeping to themselves, living alone or in a community they built on their own.
Despite the trepidataion and tension in their shoulders, the waited, breaths steady and unyielding to the harsh winds of early winter. They expected a wolf - or a few - or a bear to jump at them, but were released to see antlers poking out of the bush, tines interlocked with green and dried leaves still tied to a thin branch, followed by perked ears, rounded ends flicking against the leafage stuck around the antlers. A head soon followed, big, doe eyes with the dilated, rounded pupils staring at them with timid curiosity, uncertain of the danger.
Rather than a big brown bear or a deranged grey wolf, they found a curious deer hybrid. Price raised his fist, ordering the three of them to lower their weapons, holding it to his chest, he took a step towards you, slow and tentative. You jerked back, body moving out of your hiding place, fully exposing yourself to men —men deprived of the gentle touch of a woman and the loving embrace of one. You wore rags, hanging off the small straps of your shoulder and stopped mid-thigh, soft and plush skin; your dress hugged the promiscuous curves of your hips and the swell of your breasts and ass, leaving nothing to their imagination. You were a sight to hungry and deprived men like them, gruff and overworked, tired and wanting a moment of reprieve to relax and work off the stress.
“Hello,” it hadn’t crossed his mind whether or not you spoke, seeing that you were dressed in nothing but rags despite looking clean and untouched by filth, simply delicious to their eyes. “I’m John,” he gave you a smile, his eyes creased and cheeks wrinkled, his lips stretched under his bear-like beard, “Who are you?”
His softer approach made you compliant, mumbling out your name in a soft voice. You were skittish, looking as if a single abrupt movement would have you buck away from them, and they couldn’t have that, you were a source of information and much more. Soft curves and doe-eyed filled with a sort of innocence, able to thrive in the wild with feral hybrids, ye untouched by their rough and untamed character.
“Who… who are they?” Your eyes gazed over the three men behind Price, hands pulled to your chest in an effort to give yourself comfort and protection against the dark gleam in their brown and blue eyes.
“That’s Soap,” your eyes followed his hand, hovering towards the men with striking, blue irises and a weird haircut. “Gaz,” he motioned towards the man with warm, brown skin and a pretty face. “And Ghost,” he was the most intimidating, broad and big, it made you shudder. “What are you doing here?”
The question lingered in the air, you frowned, seemingly unwilling to divulge your reason because you had the same question, wanting to know why big, armed men were threading in your home. You looked away, staring at their feet rather than their strong gaze, feet shuffling around. They watched you bite your lip, pearly whites peaking under your lip to sink down in your glossy lips, perfect for kissing. How would you taste if they got their hands on you? Would your mouth taste as sweet and delicious as you looked? You were temptation on two feet.
“This is my home,” you reluctantly told them, becoming more anxieties by the second. It seemed like you were waiting for the right moment to skip away, to rush through the forest and hide away from the men who had a sudden interest in you. “You?”
“Classified, love.”
You perked up and shied away at the way he called you, his rumbling voice turning soft and disarming, near becoming for a sensitive hybrid like you. You were so adorable when you acted all shy, ears flicking and little nose scrunching up. You were naturally wary of anyone as a prey animal, vulnerable and without claws or sharp teeth against anything bigger than you. They could all see the tension building in your body, ears backed against your head and fingers fumbling around, his voice might’ve soothed you, but his reply made you fearful, suspicious enough to look more and more like you were going to flee.
If you ran, they would follow, Ghost would probably the one to catch you first, surprisingly fast and nimble for someone of his stature. He’d tackle you to the ground, scruff you and hold you down despite your wails and take you back, you had something they needed. Ghost would do the training, prepping you however he deemed fit and punish you if you lashed out. Gaz and Soap could easily break you in, their gentler countenance working in their favour. A push and pull, essentially, with Soap’s puppy-like aggression and mischievousness, and Gaz’s gentle care and grounding hand. Price would keep you in check, sometimes overseeing Ghost’s training and other times participating in it, being the disapproving and sympathetic one when faced with Ghost’s cruel and degrading ways.
You were pretty in rags - you would look pretty in anything you wore - but you’d be the prettiest naked and stuffed on their laps, eyes rolled back and breasts jostling. Taking you would take care of their needs, the temptation pulsing in their crotch. You wouldn’t mind it, would you? It would be better than sleeping on the rough, forest terrain, victim to both nature and the wilderness. You would be protected and taken care of, what else would you want?
“Why don’t you come with us, love,” it wasn’t an offer, it was a demand —an order.
Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @tallmanlover @distracteddragoness @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @konigsblog @havoc973 @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @danielle143 @dont-mind-me-just-existing-sadly @tuttifuckinfruttifriday
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celestialprincesse · 3 months
Note
Could you do a poly 141! If you’re comfortable with it! I’d prefer fluffy poly 141. Or if you’re not comfortable! Maybe Ghoap or just ghost x reader fluff! I’m not that big of a smut fan when it comes to cod, these poor military men just need a hug
with lots of love - 🩰
FERAL FOR POLY 141 FE RAL FERAL FERAL can u tell that I like this dynamic just a lil bit ( a totally normal amount )
You're pottering around the kitchen when the boys come home from the gym, said boys not including a very sullen Johnny who threw his knee out last week leading you to promptly issue a very firm bed rest order, swatting your tea towel at him when he'd attempted to slip out this morning with his gym bag.
Kyle is on you immediately to see what you're whipping up, whilst John goes off to shower and Simon goes to bring in more logs for the slowly dwindling fire. You attempt to shoo Kyle away as he and Johnny sidle up to your back, nipping at your neck or toying with your hair - making your cooking far more difficult. You successfully manage to shoo Johnny away with a spoonful of creme brûlée stuffed into his open mouth, whilst Kyle sticks at your side like a limpet, whinging about how he'd missed you at the gym and that the boys are all so testosterone-y, which you promptly shut up with a gentle kiss to his waiting lips. With the first lot of grumbling military men out of your hair, you seek Simon out where he smokes on the porch, a steaming mug of earl grey in one hand and a brownie in the other. He promptly moves his cigarette to his other hand so that he can scoop you up against his side, resting his chin against the crown of your head, breathing in the smell of your shampoo and perfume appreciatively. You yourself give an appreciative hum at the warmth of his presence, your wellies and pyjama shorts not doing very much against the chilly morning outside the cozy confines of home.
"How's Johnny?" He rumbles into your hair, pulling back momentarily to take a drag from his cigarette before sidling back up to you. "A pain in the ass." You huff fondly back, unable to hide the pity in your voice for the normally eternally energetic Scotsman. "Cabin fever's got him practically bouncing off the walls." "And you? Are you doing okay, birdie?" "M' just happy to have all my boys home and safe." The sound of your voice melts into the quiet birdsong and the eternally soothing sound of Simon's slightly raspy breathing from the deviated septum he'd managed to get after breaking his nose a few years back.
The sound of the door swinging open doesn't disrupt you and Simon from your shared moment of peace, John coming out with one of his cigars hanging between his lips, free hand snaking around your waist as he leans against the porch. Quickly you notice the phone balanced between his ear and shoulder, and his expression focussed intently on what the person on the other end is saying. John puffs away at his cigar, fidgeting absently with the waistband of your shorts whilst you and Simon chat away about nothing, careful not to let your voices be heard by whoever John's on the phone to.
Growing sick of the cold, you give Simon and John kisses respectively before retreating inside where Kyle and Johnny have settled on the couch, playstation controllers in hand and a video game shown on the large flatscreen Johnny'd insisted you all bought when you moved in together. You're quick to shimmy up beside Johnny, settling your head on his lap, soothed by the sound of he and Kyle talking about the game, John and Simon soon joining the three of you. Simon squishes between Kyle and Johnny in order to play with your hair and chat to you about your day, whilst John gathers your legs up and plops them into his lap, tracing patterns across the bare skin of your calves as he reads something on his phone.
You eventually find yourself dozing off in spite of the ruckus around you, only waking at midday when you're coaxed off of the couch by Kyle who carries your tired body to the simple dining room where the others are laying the table, diligently having taken the large piece of meat you'd been slow roasting all morning from the oven, placed in the middle of the table.
The boys thank you as you all tuck into the hearty, late lunch you'd prepared, laughter and chatter filling the cozy room, gratitude palpable amongst you.
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caught - jj maybank
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warning: +18. NSFW CONTENT. MINORS DNI. sex. language. public sex. oral sex
word count: 1.4k
author’s notes: hi!! look who remembered the password to this blog!!! it's been a chaotic but gooooood couple of months, kinda fell out of my obx phase but I'm back and I miss writing sm!!! so to all my horny babes here's a unpublished piece (that was unfinished since october) hope yall enjoy!
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every time you and JJ were caught.
occupied —
my back is pressed against the wall, JJ holds me tightly, his lips are pecking and biting the side of my neck as he buries himself inside of me. JJ’s hands cover my mouth as his thrust becomes faster.
I didn't even get the chance to get in the shower, my shorts were stuck on my knees, same thing with JJ. I suck him for 5 seconds before he pulls me on my feet and fuck me against the wall.
“y/n did you lock yourself?” Sarah’s voice rasped on the voice
I press my lips together concentrating on giving her an answer, but as JJ keeps pounding into me, I’m pretty sure she can hear my muffled cry.
“I’m gonna come princess, shit,” JJ whispers in my ear
“I…oh gosh, I'm good,” I squeeze out
JJ presses his body closer as he gives me his last thrusts, I look at him and see him control himself not to curse as he fills me with his cum.
“Are you sure?” Sarah insists
“YES,” that was for jj, who cupped my pussy and drew his fingers on my clit.
“for fucks sake, is JJ there with you?” I hear John B. shout at the door
He gives a little chuckle before giving the door a few thumps “Can no one get laid in this house?”
“y’all are disgusting, there's a bedroom, you know?”
“oh my god”
you hear the rest of them say outside, but my mind is far away from this reality and it's focused on JJ giving me an orgasm.
hammock —
we're both spread out in the hammock. it started with a massage, I swear.
It's a massage… on JJ’s dick.
bringing the blanket outside was an unintentional good idea. I threw on top of our lower bodies as my hand accidentally started stroking JJ's cock.
his body joint under my touch, I gave him the perfect amount of pressure, tugging his wet foreskin and sweeping up the beads of precum at the tip.
JJ gasps as I bring my hands to my mouth, giving it a nice lick and stroking him down again. but faster.
I could feel him getting closer. his eyes shut tight, his arms around me felt tense, and then…pope exited the chateau facing us, laying static on our back. too late, he realized JJ’s expression and the motion of my hands.
“Ew guys, c’mon, we all used this,” he says turning his back to us
I buried my face in JJ's neck laughing.
volume –
shoving her bikini bottom to the side, I grip her hips as y/n settles on top of me, slowly sinking. I could die watching her bounce on my cock.
I palm her tits as she rocks back and forth, using me to hit the spot that makes her whine.
speaking of whining, we're lucky that there's no one home, cause we're definitely not using our indoor voices.
her palms planted on my chest, as she supported herself. her nails buried in my skin as she moans.
“just like that baby, let me see you come,”
The dirty request makes her fasten the pace and bounce in circles. I clenched my ass trying to hold the climax.
“oh fuck, jj.” she cries while her legs shake, that's my signal.
I flip us over and bury myself deeper inside of her. groaning, I gave her rough thrusts, feeling her squeezing me.
“fuck baby, don't stop j,” her sweet moans send a bolt of heat to my balls. I rise on my knees, angling her hips watching her pussy slide back and forth as she grasps at the bedsheets. 
“yes, yes,” y/n gives me one less moan as she milks my shaft. my muscles clench as she climaxes and I come right away, painting.
“oh fuck, y/n,” I grunt as my body relaxes
“ayo, glad y'all are done, 'cause I need to sleep,” we hear John B shouting as he bangs into the wall.
“oh…no,” y/n says, hiding her face with her palms.
“too late to be shy, cupcake,”
beach —
The tent was mostly in darkness, but the moon's glow peeked through. Y/N slipped in so quietly that I barely noticed. She moved around, and I could sense her doing stuff, but I was too tired to pay much attention.
I gave her a little peak and sure thing, her topless self was taking her shorts out, she was looking for something but all I could care about was the fact that she was only in her bikini, in front of me.
Yep, my dick is semi-hard.
“Can I help you, princess?”
“Sorry babe, I thought you were already asleep,” She whispers
“Luckily, I’m not, otherwise who would appreciate this view?” I told her, sitting up and trying to be as silent as her.
“Yeah, as if,”
“You’re so beautiful,”
“Thank you J” she replied still looking around 
“I think what you’re looking for is inside my shorts”
“Huh?” Y/N furrowed her brows as she analyzed my expression, I shot her a malicious smile which made clear my intentions.
“Our friends are literally right there,” She whispered again 
“You could be quiet?”
“Can’t guarantee,”
“But I can. Blow me, since you’re already on your knees,”
Y/N covered her mouth to stop the giggle, when she looked at me again, I could see that her mind was made and that it was in the same place as mine.
She adjusted herself in front of me and pushed me to the floor, slowly dragging my shorts out. She put her hair in a ponytail and held my cock in her hand firmly.
I could come just with the sight of her topless self in front of me. I’m leaking already, making her hand slide easily on my dick, I adjust myself and roughly remember that the sand is not that comfortable to be laid on. Still, Y/N lowered herself and closed her mouth around the tip, slowly sucking, and my hips snapped involuntarily. 
She sucked me deeper into her mouth, almost to the base, I have to use all my force to not let a groan leave my lips when she chokes on me. Y/N keeps her pace slow but firm, I guess to not make any “suspect” sound.
My breath is heavy and my eyes shut, she releases me and I look down as her tongue glides along my hard-length cock.
“Fuckfuckfuck Y/N” I quietly curse
She uses both of her hands to stroke me and give my balls a nice squeeze, I can see her gaze darkening, she’s getting off and seems to be fighting off the urge to not ride me.
I know this look. I give her a signal to come closer.
“What?”
“Let’s fuck”
“No, not here.”
“I have the keys to the Twinkie,” 
“Then what are you waiting for?” She murmurs, cleaning the sides of her mouth, she slid into one of my shirts and I pushed my shorts back, exiting both of us, half-naked.
We successfully sneaked out and the only sound around us was the waves, I grabbed her hand and guided us far from the sand. 
As I open the doors, I look around and lock it behind us.
It all happened too fast, I slipped my tongue in her mouth and she desperately climbed on top of me, my shorts were now stuck to my ankles and Y/N’s bikini bottoms were pushed to the side.
Reaching for it, Y/N aligns my erection into her entrance and sinks in it.
Both of us let out a moan, feeling the pleasure fill our bodies, Y/N fastened her pace, bouncing on top of me, I’m too close for her, any minute I’m out, but since my girl is getting there I hold as much as I can.
“Mmm yes JJ, touch me”
I lifted my shirt out of her body and sucked and licked on her buds, she was bouncing and grinding her clit on me, it’s noticeable that she is getting there. The gasps and the nails digging on my tights confirm that.
With my free hand, I hold her waist and meet her halfway through her movements, each deep thrust sends me closer and closer to the edge. I can’t hold it any longer. Her moans are desperate and her whining is music to my ears.
“Y/n, fuck…”
Our breathing grows as our bodies slap together, and her mouth opens without making any sound, that’s my cue. I burst inside of her as her body shook on top of me. My last pound is weak leaking out of her.”
“Fuck baby, that was insane.”
“Thank God for the Twinkie.”
“More like than God for m-”
“JJ, I’m gonna kill you.” John B's voice echoes outside as he bangs the Twinkie door.
My bad, I guess.
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