#were!john is like 'maybe i should just wear it down so--' | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

gh0stsp1d3r · 16 hours

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ℳ𝒶𝓎𝒷𝒶𝓃𝓀𝓈 𝓈𝒾𝓈𝓉ℯ𝓇

Chapter 8- hate you too

Summary: Rafe is back at Tannyhill, taking care of “business.” Pope gets himself into some trouble, and you get to talk to Rafe again. But by doing so, you betrayed the pogues and your brother.

Series masterlist

“Look at you! You’re so grown up!” Big John told you, you gave him a smile and wrapped your arms around him. It had been a while since you’ve seen him.

Everyone celebrated big John’s return to the Chateau, JJ hopping on his back with a wide smile on his face.

JJ thought of him as the father he never had, whenever your guys dad used to hit him, he always had a place at the Chateau. You had even been there quite a few times, when it got real bad.

You all sat down now, listening to them explain everything.

“Yeah, yeah, so we, um… we went to the archive in Charleston, and, uh… it was a dead end. A dry hole.. so…”

“So that’s the gold, the cross, and now El Dorado. We’re there for three, guys.” Pope spoke, pausing. “The streak continues.” He scoffed. “That’s great.”

Pope and Kiara left, you looked at JJ and he stood up. You did as well, mostly because he was your only ride at the moment.

You got him a new bike with some of the money you saved, and you were fixing the car later.

“I’m going fishing. Thanks for the beer.”

“Yea, thank you. See you guys later.” You told them, giving John B and Big John a small smile before following him.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

“The cross is not on the train, Rafe. It did not arrive. Somebody stole the cross.” Wards voice spoke over the phone.

“Oh my God, wait, who stole it?” Rafe spoke, feigning his confusion.

“I don’t know who stole it, Rafe!”

“That’s rough.. I- I mean it could’ve been anybody, really, right?”

“Not really, Rafe. It could be one of a very few people.”

“Well, I mean, you know, we were just giving it away anyway… so, who cares?” He shrugged. “Who cares?”

Ward exhaled, making Rafe have a smug smile on his face.

“Okay, Rafe, okay. That’s done for now. I need you to finish the list I gave you. I want you to… sign for the east river property, when that’s completed, shut down the offices-“

“Yeah, no, I- actually I wanted to talk to you about that. Uhm, I’m thinking maybe we should keep the offices.”

“..what?”

“Yeah, I’m thinking maybe I should stay down here for a while. You know, really grow the company. I think it’d be good for us, right!”

“Listen to me, Rafe-“

“No. No, no, no, you listen, okay?” He put himself on speaker. “You listening? You remember when you told me to make myself useful? Well, thats exactly what I’m doing. I’m making myself useful, alright? I can do shit, you know? Explore options… so for the benefit of all, I think I’m gonna hang out for a while, okay?”

“Rafe, listen to me, you are there for one reason. You are to act as my proxy to shut down the companies, okay? That is our one play, and if you cannot do it-“

“If I can’t do it? If I can’t do it, then what? Then what?” He shouted, “you gonna hop on a plane? Come down here? I mean- it’ll be like a goddamn Elvis sighting! Ward Cameron, everyone! Oh my God, he lives! He’s back from the dead!”

Rafe scoffed, looking down at the ring on his finger.

“I got the family ring now, Pops. Yeah, I’m wearing it, and it’s my time to step up, okay? You’re dead.”

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

You took a deep breath, raising your hand to knock on the door.

“Hold on!” Ricky shouted from inside, you heard rummaging before he came over and opened the door.

He looked at you, your eyebags dark, your clothes dirty and ruined, your expression tired.

“Holy shit.” He spoke, dropping whatever was in his hands before stumbling to pick it back up.

“I- i heard you were back and i tried texting you- but-“ he said with a laugh when you wrapped your arms around him.

“Broke and lost my phone.” You told him, smiling as you pulled away from the hug.

“Shit- uh, come in.”

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

“And rumor has it, along with everything else, you stole that catamaran out there.”

“I didn’t s- I was with Sarah Cameron when i was on that boat. That’s their families boat!” He pointed.

“Not according to the registration. It’s Rafe’s boat, and he says you stole it. He’s keeping it here because he doesn’t want you around it.”

“Okay, Billy, come on. There’s got to be something.”

“I’m sorry kid.” Billy sighed out. “Guffy put the nix on it. Okay? I can find cheap help that doesn’t piss my clients off.” The phone started ringing and Billy glanced over. “I gotta go.” He sighed, leaving.

As JJ walked on the dock with tears begging to be let out, he heard a familiar voice shout.

“Damn, Rafe. Come on, country club. Bro, how are you gonna have this and not even tell me! You got a whole YMCA up on this bitch, dude.” Barry spoke with a laugh.

“Barry! Time to think. All right, we need to make a move.” Rafe shouted, standing up now.

“That’s all we do, bro. We been making moves.”

JJ hid, watching the conversation and listening in on it.

“Yeah, well we don’t have much time. Yo, come down here, you’re not gonna believe this shit.” Rafe spoke, all of them stepping down.

JJ sighed, thinking as he stood up. He took off his shoes, and dove into the water.

“I’m just saying we need to take this shit seriously.” JJ heard Rafe say when he went closer, now in front of the boat.

“Dude, bro, i should get a tooth made out of this, huh?” Barry asked, smiling as he held up a bar to his teeth.

“Look, don’t be touching the shit. Just put it back.” Rafe told him.

“So paranoid, bro.”

“I don’t give a fuck about the cross. I’m trying to make money.”

JJs head snapped up at his words.

“I told you, my aunt, she got some contacts. She gonna help us move these little bitches. The gems, the nuggets, the whole damn melted enchilada.” Barry told Rafe.

“These gems are mint, man. The golds bullion. We’re selling it in bars. Alright? I’m not gonna deal with some half assed pogue shit with some reject from Zale’s, bro-“

“Watch how you speaking about my auntie, dog.”

“I’m not talking about your aunt. I’m just…” JJ swum back to the dock, the rest of the conversation not important now that he knew about the gold and the cross.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

“Pope… he has the cross and he melted it down.”

Popes face fell, he stared out into the water.

“Fuck!” He shouted. “Of course it was Rafe.” He said as he panted.

“Yeah, I mean, we probably coulda guessed that.” You said.

“The cross of Santo Domingo, desecrated! For money? God!”

“I know.. so.. I think we need to stay calm to make a plan, but we got to stay-“ JJs sentence was cut off as Pope smashed the floorboards.

“Getting better at that.”

“This is messed up, man. Even for them.”

“I know.” JJ said.

“Couldn’t agree more.” You told them.

“And they’re just gonna keep getting away with it. They’re gonna keep doing that shit. Gonna keep winning.”

“I mean, pope, is this news to y-“

You hit JJs shoulder before he could finish that sentence, giving him a pointed look as he rubbed his shoulder.

“No. But I’m sick of being the good guy.” He said, before walking away.

“Pope.” Cleo said, but he started to run. “Pope, where are you going?”

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

“Well, I appreciate the help, you three.” Mrs. Heyward spoke, you and Cleo coming out and setting up tables.

“You know I ain’t missing Mrs. Hayward’s cooking.” JJ said with a small smile, wiping down the table.

“Unlike my derelict son. He’s usually here by now”

JJ tried to steal something off the grill, but his hand was slapped away.

“I’m sure he’ll be back any second, Mrs. Heyward. Probably just going through a rough time. It’s been hard adjusting back to normal life. For all of us.” You told her, a hopeful smile on your face.

“Either one of yall moved the pistol from in there?” Heyward spoke, pointing to the inside. “The one I keep under the register?”

“JJ?”

“Whoa, okay, I didn’t touch it. Okay?” He quickly defended

“He didn’t.” You told him.

“Yeah, well somebody did. Cause it’s gone.”

“I got my own gun, Mr. Heyward.” You held your hands up in defense when he looked at you.

“You see? I- dang it. I gotta find it.” He stormed inside, Mrs. Heyward following.

“Shit.” You muttered, turning to the both of them

“He’s going after Rafe.”

“I’ll check the marina.” You quickly spoke up. “Okay… I’ll come with.” JJ spoke, but you shook your head.

“Go with Cleo to Tannyhill. I doubt he’ll be at the marina still.”

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

“I haven’t talked to you in a minute, all right? No, look, listen, okay, the situation is we got… I got it. I got it right here. It’s bars, in bullion. All right.” Rafe spoke on the phone, pacing on the boat.

Pope held the gun, moving it up. He cocked it, pointing it to Rafe and aiming carefully with tears in his eyes.

He heard the footsteps before he heard your voice.

“Pope..” you mumbled. “If you do this, your whole life will go to shit. Trust me.”

“I don’t care.”

“But you care about your mother. And your father. What would they think?”

“I think they would understand how I feel.” Pope said, tears now streaming down his face. “For once, he would lose like we always do.”

You sighed, sitting down next to him and putting a hand on his shoulder, as he spoke.

“It doesn’t matter anyways. I’ve lost everything.”

“Are you kidding? You have a family, you have a home. You have friends that would kill themselves for you. Pope, you are the smartest fucking kid I know, but that is some bullshit coming out your mouth right now.” You paused for a moment.

“I know that right now it feels like nothing matters, and believe me, I’ve been there, but trust me, what you do is going to matter.” You continued.

You grabbed his arm, lowering it along with the gun, he exhaled and sobbed. You held him, letting him cry into your shoulder.

“Just breathe, dude. You’re good.”

You glanced back at Rafe on the boat, watching him pace back and forth on the phone.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

“I’m sorry, J. I already asked, but there’s no room left in the house. I’m sorry.” You told him, a sad smile on your face.

“You think you can stay at the Chateau for a while? I- I just got this new job, and I’m really trying. I swear. I’m gonna get like- I’m gonna have to get like two more, but I swear, I’m gonna get some place soon, even if it’s like.. a fucking shithole-“ you rambled on.

JJ nodded, cutting your off with his words. “I’ll figure it out, it’s all good. Don’t worry ‘bout me.”He told you, shrugging and putting his cap back on his head.

“Are you sure?”

“Jesus, I’m sure. Jb won’t mind, I already practically lived with him before, I’ll do it for years again if I have to.” He shrugged.

“Thank you, JJ. See you,” you nodded, giving him a small smile before walking away.

“See you, dude,”

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Yeah, a lot happened after that. John B showed up, Big John had been kidnapped, and now JJ and John B were going to some professors house to get info on where he might be, because all they knew is he was somewhere in South America.

And you were currently working two jobs, one of which was a bartender one.

The bar was in a club on figure eight, so of course you heard a bunch of shit. But today, you couldn’t help but listening in on the conversation.

“You know that Rafe Cameron is sellin’ fucking gold? From like some… ancient artifact or something?” One man said to another, downing the shot he had just gotten.

“Sell a bit here, a little bit there. Under the radar.” Rafe had told Barry when he talked about the plan for selling the gold. Clearly, that had not worked as well as they hoped, since word got around.

You listened intently, your job of wiping up the bar now forgotten.

“What? That’s weird. Heard he’s been on his fuckin’ rocker ever since his dad, and ever since that one girl from the cut.. what’s her name?”

“You talkin’ bout Maybanks sister?” The man asked, not even glancing at you as you filled up his cup again.

“Yes!” He snapped his fingers. “Her. He’s been weird since they broke up.”

“Has he, now?” You asked them with a quirked eyebrow. It was then they looked at you, eyes widening in realization.

“I mean, shit, I see why now.” One of them mumbled when you walked away, making you smile to yourself.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Tannyhill parties. You hated them. You sighed as you stood in front of the house, shaking your head to yourself as you went in through the back and hopped through an open window, avoiding the dude at the front door.

Rafe really had to hire his own bouncer? That’s low.

You tried not to get spotted, and somehow it had worked. Because among all the drunk and horny teenagers, you were hidden.

You went up the stairs when you didn’t see him anywhere. And you glanced in his room, no sign of him.

“And, if you would kindly follow me, Miss Sofia.” Rafe spoke, guiding her outside.

“VIP section.” He spoke, putting an arm around her.

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah, only very, very special people are allowed here.. so.”

“Mm..”

“So you can see the water…” he pointed out to the ocean.

“Hey, that ain’t no Jim beam bullshit! All right? That’s Pappy Van Winkle, that’s like a days salary bro! Aye, if you don’t have a drink in your hand get the hell out of my house! Get off my property!” He shouted to the partygoers, all of them cheering at him.

“So this is the VIP life huh?”

“Mm-hmm. Yeah.”

“Cool.” She beamed at him.

“You wanna see some more?” He asked, but before she could answer he heard a a familiar voice.

“Nice party. This shit still tastes like garbage.” You told him, holding up the red cup with some expensive shit you got downstairs.

You wouldn’t admit it stung to see him with another girl. But you did like the way her smile faltered and fell when his eyes were on you now.

“How’d you get in here? Thought I had-“

You shrugged. “I used a window. Can we talk?”

He glanced at you and back at Sofia.

“Alone.” You clarified.

“I’ll be right back, don’t go anywhere, yeah?” He told her quietly. She nodded.

You both went into his room, he shut the door behind him. You stood in front of him, your arms wrapped around yourself as you looked around the room.

“You wanted to talk, so talk.” He snapped impatiently.

“Jeez, okay, okay. Just cut to the chase, do you have my jacket? I haven’t been able to find it and I know I always left it here.”

“You came here, through a window, for a fuckin’ jacket?” He asked, his tone annoyed.

“No… that’s… that’s not my point. I just… Rafe, I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t need to be.”

He was listening now.

“Why the fuck did you burn down the cross?” You asked him.

“What?” He laughed, your sudden change in demeanor was hilarious to him. “I- it’s mine. Don’t you guys get that?” He pointed to himself, his eyebrows furrowed. “Mine. I fuckin’ went to hell and back for that thing.” He pointed, voice louder now.

“Yeah, all for some fuckin’ money! Which, may I remind you, you already have plenty of. You’re being an asshole, Rafe-“

“Yeah, and when am I not with you?” He scoffed.

“Do you really wanna have this argument? Right here? And while I’m here, I broke up with you, so why are you telling people it’s the other way around? You don’t wanna seem like a pussy or something?” You are practically shouting now, happy that the music drained out the noise.

“Oh, don’t even!” He laughed. “Are you fucking-“

“It is Popes cross, not yours. And just admit you don’t wanna be seen as the boy who begged and cried for his girlfriend to come back!” You yelled at him, poking your finger into his chest.

When the fuck did you two get so close to each other? You thought.

You looked up at him, panting. He stared down at you. He grabbed your wrist, harshly holding it in his hand.

Your heart raced as he leaned down, capturing your lips in a fiery, heated kiss. One full of anger, pent up feelings. Of course, you didn’t reciprocate at first.

You fell under his spell, however, seconds later, kissing him back. His hand let go of your wrist, and were currently on your sides, pulling you even closer as you both crashed onto the floor, you straddling him.

“I- I fucking hate you.” You muttered when you both pulled away, causing him to smirk against your lips.

“Hate you too.” He told you, going back to shoving his tongue in your mouth.

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Taglist:

@cassie0sstuff @rafesgiirl @fals3-g0d @tiaamberxx @callsignwidow @saintnourah

#rafe cameron x you #maybanks sister #obx rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron series #rafe outer banks #rafe cameron #rafe x you #rafe fanfiction #rafe cameron x female reader #rafe cameron x y/n

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enniewritesathing · 1 year

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I’m actually not entirely sure why see Were!John hardly wears his hair completely down. It’s up in something. He probably thinks it makes him feel distinguished and perhaps, regal.

not because Brian told him that, nooo

#well the only time it's down is when uh Brian gets handsy and there goes the hairband #without fail #(this happens to either of them)#were!john is like 'maybe i should just wear it down so--'#brian tells him the hair stays up until he's ready to lol #a text post #non sims #oc things #werewolf shenanigans

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bleuu-moon · 5 months

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john pitches simon to you. 18+

it was john’s idea.

he saw the way you looked at simon, how your eyes lingered on him for too long, momentarily flickering up and down his frame whenever he entered your vicinity. his own wife gawking at his comrade. he should be pissed off, like any other man would, fuming, prepared to throw a fit fuelled by jealous rage.

but he only feels intrigue, temptation.

he knows it’s wrong, perverse, unprofessional. but the thought of seeing another man have his way with you, especially someone who he trusts, feeds something into his sexual appetite, and the only thing he can think of is how much he wants a taste.

john had taken to you away for the night, insisting that he wined and dined you after being away for some time. and he did, booked a room in a high end overpriced hotel, reserving a table in an italian he knew you’d like, and told you to wear that deep red dress he adores you in.

you half expected sex when you returned back to your room. but you never had it being with someone else, other than your husband, on your bingo card. never mind with someone who he deems a brother.

the truth is, john had quietly planned this weeks before. knowing that simon wouldn’t hesitate at his idea, pitching it to him on a random night in the middle of a desert. considering, after all, simon did want you first.

but you on the other hand, he was unsure about. you were loyal by default, one of the things he loves about you. he knows the distain that surrounds even the thought of betraying him, and it meant more than any fantasy you might hold. he knew he needed to make it clear to you, that he wanted it just as much.

so, whilst you were in the elevator on the way back to your room, he broke away from the desperate kiss that he had you lost in, his hands still placed on the side of your face.

“you like simon, don’t you?”

you weren’t sure if it was the wine, or the initial shock of johns spontaneous mention of his inferior, that caused your brain to pause, taking a while for his question to register. but before you could master up reply—

“don’t worry if you do, lovie. i see it. the way you look at him, the way he looks at you”

you remained pinned to the wall, as john grazed a thumb across your bottom lip. his eyes something darker than you’ve seen before.

you began feeling an itch of embarrassment, heat creeping up within your cheeks. but it soon wavered when you noticed the amusement plastered on his face. the glimmer that filled his eyes.

“it’s nice knowing he wants something that’s mine”

“john, what are you talking about?”

“would you think i’m mad if i told you i want to see you with him”

he faintly chuckled at your mouth falling slack, struggling to find words. before moving his hand down to the hem of your dress and tracing his fingertips up the bare skin on the your thigh, bunching up the silk as he did. finding the delicate lace that covered your pussy, gently rubbing two fingers over your clit. a soft moan escaping your lips.

“wanna see him touch you—”

his head dropped slightly, his lips to your ear.

a whisper, “fuck. so wet already”

before placing a tender kiss to the space under your ear.

“—kiss you—”

another kiss.

“—fuck you”

fuck—

fuck. you couldn’t help but let simon cloud your brain. your attraction to him was nothing but a natural, human reaction. one that was stupid, unnecessary, secret. but, the thought of him, touching every inch of you whilst john watched, fuelled something within you.

“would you like that, love?”

this wasn’t rational, it had strong potential to become a heavy regret. however, who were you to deny your john, after so many years of him finding pleasure out of your own, this was only just a repeat.

right?

maybe you weren’t thinking clearly, probably... most likely. but your mouth has a habit of moving quicker than your brain, and before you knew it, you breathed out,

“yes.”

#needed this out of my drafts #this was supposed to be so much longer #whoops #captain john price #simon ghost riley #price x reader #part 2 disgusting smut maybssss

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gogh-with-the-flow · 7 months

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Thinking about Mechanics!141 and fem reader with a shitbox car (totally not me). You're in there every three to four weeks with something going wrong with your death trap of a car. The boys aren't sabotaging your car or anything. They don't need to. Your car is just that bad. It's a miracle it hasn't killed you yet. You're trying to save up for a newer car, but your shitbox keeps burning a hole in your wallet with every light blinking on your dashboard. It's to the point that the boys recognize you as soon as you walk into the shop. They hear the bell ring and they just know it's you again.

(Contains: sex as payment, oral sex/blowjob, fingering/masturbation) but of a different style from BitW but enjoy. Not proofread :p

"What is it now?" Price asks, wiping the motor oil from his hands on a greasy rag. You're already looping the key fob off your keychains.

"It's shaking whenever I get above 45."

"What part of the car is shaking?" He asks, pulling up your information on the computer.

"All of it," you say, slapping the key onto the counter with a huff. Price gives you a sympathetic look.

"Darling, you should really get yourself something more reliable," he tells you. You sigh and lean your elbows on the counter. His eyes glance down to your chest and the low-cut shirt you were wearing.

"I'm trying, Price," you say with a little more attitude than you intended. "It's impossible to save money when everything goes back into this fucking car!" You run your hands over your face. "I'm gonna die in that thing," you mutter, only half-joking. Price stops typing for a moment, thinking to himself.

"What if we could work something out?" He asks tentatively. You look up at him to see him already staring you down.

"Like... a loyalty discount?" You try to clarify. Surely he didn't mean...

"I was thinking something more along the lines of... an alternative method of payment." He leans against the counter in front of you, his face close to yours. He smelled like what you'd expect: motor oil and engine grease and musky, manly sweat. "Something under-the-table..." Your heart skipped a beat at the double-meaning of his words, allowing him just enough plausible deniability if you chose to not accept. You swallowed hard.

"What do you have in mind?" You ask softly, your heart pounding in your chest, and with how hard Price was staring at your cleavage, you think maybe he could see it. You reach a hand out to stoke a finger along his arm, feeling the coarse hair all over it. The corner of his mouth quirked up.

"I think I have something in the back office that might work. Follow me and I'll show you."

It wasn't that you were totally desperate. Well, you were. This car had cost you thousands more than it was worth and you needed to save any penny you could when it came to it. But you wouldn't have followed just any mechanic into the rinky-dink office at the back of the auto shop. This was John Price. And he was all man.

"You want that discount, you're gonna have to work for it."

Broad shoulders tapering into a narrower waist, but still lined with the perfect ratio of hearty muscle and soft belly, all leading down to an alluring bulge and plump ass, and finally, those thick, beefy thighs. Not to mention his hands: thick, strong, and calloused from years of hard manual labor, and forearms and biceps that twisted and flexed underneath his button-down work shirt.

He holds the door open for you, his body crowding you into the tight space. The office is more of an oversized closet with a desk and an old computer. He closes the door behind you both and settles himself into the rickety office chair, which creaks under his weight. He sits with his legs spread and his hands on his thighs and gestures for you to come closer.

You kneel between his legs and he smirks, adjusting his hips in the chair while you work open his belt. He lets you open his trousers for him but pushes them down for you so his semi-hard cock can spring free. He sighs when you take it into your hand, stroking him to full hardness.

He isn't much of a moaner, you didn't expect him to be, but his chest puffs as you take the tip into your mouth and suck on it lightly. Your hand moves up and down his shaft slowly, your fingers moving to meet your lips. You lick around the head and push the tip of your tongue into his slit, making his hips jerk lightly.

You close your eyes, letting yourself fully focus on his cock, letting desire and submissiveness take over your mind as you work to please him on your knees. You take him deeper into your mouth, widening your jaw and rocking your mouth side to side to fit him farther down. Your other hand slides up his thick, meaty thigh to massage his balls while you find yourself in a gentle rhythm. You bob your head, going down just far enough, but not enough to gag you, and sucking hard on the way up as your hand holds and twists the base. You melt onto him, the feeling of him in your mouth quieting your mind, leaving any thought of hesitancy far, far behind. All you need is John Price's dick in your mouth, and you think you could reach enlightenment between his thighs.

You barely register the fact that you're moaning around him until he's teasing you for it.

"Yeah? You like this, don't you? Letting me drag you to the back of the shop to suck my cock like the little whore you are." You whimpered at the filthy words he was spitting down at you. "Knew you would- the boys and I- knew you'd like us usin' you like this," he says with a grunt as he watches your eyes roll back. "Go on and touch yourself for me, dear."

You let go of his balls and quickly open your pants to sneak your hand inside. Your pussy is soaked, your fingers gliding through your lips with ease. You moan louder as you circle your clit, the motion sending sparks through your pelvis and thighs.

"There's a good girl. So obedient. I can hear how wet you are for me." He places a hand on your head, not pushing, just guiding your pace up and down his length. You press your tongue to the underside of his cock to add pressure while you touch your clit, the wet nub buzzing with electricity.

"Just like that," he puffs. He holds up his shirt and you see through your fluttering lashes the way his abs constrict with pleasure. "Go on, make yourself cum like that. Think you can do it? You think you can cum with my cock down your throat?" His hips jerk up into your mouth again with more urgency.

Your thighs twitch as your stomach tightens. His vulger words send you over the edge, and your hips stutter against your hand. Your body twitches and thrusts on the floor between his thighs.

"Good girl- good fuckin' girl," he says, his voice deep and strained, and he fists your hair harder and pulls it tight. The rush of euphoria makes you moan around him low and loud, and he cums into your mouth with a grunt. You choke on the salty fluid, swallowing what you can, but some of it slips out of your lips and drips down your chin.

He pulls you off and takes a good look at how ruined you are, your lips swollen, your eyes unable to focus, your hand down your pants, and best of all, his cum decoration your face. He smiles at you and hands you a relatively clean rag to clean your face. Little black streaks preplace white droplets on your skin, and he can't help the fond smile that creeps up on him. He's marked you now in more ways than one.

He untangles his hand from your hair and let's you rest your head on his knee until you catch your breath. You take your hand out of your pants, and he motions for you to raise it up to him, and instead of wiping it with the rag, he leans forward and sucks your wet fingers into his mouth. He holds your eyes and you feel his tongue swiping across the pads of your fingers, until he releases then with a smack of his lips.

"I'll let the boys know about our little arrangement. They'll collect their own payment when you pick it up tomorrow," he says with a wink. He helps you stand up and walks you back to the front, leaving you with one final squeeze to you ass. "Oh, and you might want to wash your hair," he adds as he opens the door to the garage. He hands up a greasy hand. "Got motor oil in it. Sorry."

#captain john price #john price #john price smut #john price x reader #john price x you #john price x female reader #fem reader #mechanic!141 #mechanic!price

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letsgetrowdy43 · 4 months

Text

All you gotta do is ask—

Jack Hughes x reader

Request: Maybe something about jack’s best friend going to a game and is wearing someone else’s jersey and he gets jealous. Like he likes the reader but hasn’t said so. Reader likes him and doesn’t know he feels the same until they’re out after the game and he says something along the lines of “my girl shouldn’t have someone else’s name on her back. It’s wrong” and maybe cute fluffy ending because this girl is hormonal and needs the emotional rollercoaster

Jack's eyes caught hers from the bench, Ellen to her right chatting about Luke's rookie year, as she smiled fondly at him, giving him a little wave before his attention was pulled back towards the game.

"He adores you," Ellen smiled as the young girl turned to her with reddened cheeks. "What?" "Jack," she nodded towards her son on the ice, the two of them watching as he took a shot and the puck flew straight into the back of the net, both his mother and his best friend shot onto their feet, screaming with their hands in the air.

He faced the crowd with a grin, tongue stuck out of his mouth and he yelled out of excitement, sending a wink in the direction of his best friend as she blushed at the action, "he loves you," Ellen continued as the crowd calmed down, the devil's goal song still playing loudly as the girl swallowed thickly. "I love him too," she said with a soft smile, "he's my best friend," Ellen gave her a knowing look before they went back to watching the game.

The game ended with a Devils win, the first one in their string of home games before the All-Star break.

Ellen, Jim, and the young girl sat in the family room just outside of the locker room, a smile on her face as baby Haula ran over to her as she chatted with Kristen. She was pulled out of their conversation as the door opened to reveal Luke followed by a grinning Jack who maneuvered his way around the room to get to her while Luke went to their parents.

"You played so good," she grinned as he pulled her in for a hug, "my superstar," she whispered as he laughed at the nickname. "I scored for you," he mumbled into her shoulder, before looking down her back to see a larger 43 on her back, he pulled away tensely, a look of confusion on his face as her face filled with worry.

"You're wearing a Luke jersey?" he gasped. "Yeah, he gave it to me before the game, your jersey is in my car," she grinned, but his smile did not return. "I scored for you and this is how you repay me," he whispered, tone whiney as she rolled her eyes at his antics.

"I'm being serious, this feels so wrong, my girl should not be wearing my brother's jersey," her brows furrowed as her eyes caught his. "Your girl?" "Don't kid yourself, you've been mine since we were in middle school," he said smugly as her face grew a new shade of red. "You can't just deem me 'you girl' J," she said with a grin, her arms wrapping around his neck, "you gotta ask me first," her tone was taunting as he leaned in to kiss her but she dodged him and stared at him with raised brows

"You gotta ask," she fumbled, fingers playing with his damp curls. "You've always been mine Y/n/n," she shook her head, loving the mental hoops she was making him jump through as she smiled menacingly. "just ask J, it's all you gotta do, or you could beg, whatever floats your boat," her grin grew as he rolled his eyes. "Fine," he said batting his lashes as she giggled at the theatrics of it all, "Would you do me the honours of being my girlfriend?" he asked so kindly which rewarded him with a slow kiss to the lips instead of an answer, the action telling enough that it was an obvious yes.

a groan sounded from behind them as Luke, Dawson, and John grimaced at the sight in front of them. "Kissing my brother in my jersey, yucky," Luke said which gained a nice strong elbow to his ribs from his father who just smiled proudly at the couple.

"Trust me, she's taking it off," the entire family room groaned in disgust as she hid her face in his chest in embarrassment, "I didn't mean it that way guys, don't be gross!" which gained a laugh from the room as he stood them with wide eyes and rosy cheeks.

#rotalks: hughes brothers night!!#jack hughes #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes fic #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes blurb

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loveharlow · 3 months

Text

SEVEN - 002

PAIRING ‧₊˚ JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader

SYNOPSIS‧₊˚[6.5k] based on 1x02.

WARNING(S)‧₊˚ swearing, mentions of parental neglect, mild violence, mentions of death/grief, disturbance of a graveyard (?)

NOW PLAYING‧₊˚

A/N‧₊˚ I've been wanting to do an OBX rewrite for a very long time so here it is, the first chapter from yours truly.

˗ˏˋ series masterlist ˎˊ˗

“DO YOU REALLY THINK BIG JOHN COULD STILL BE ALIVE?” Kiara’s slightly digitally distorted voice came from the other end of the line. Your phone was pressed between your ear and shoulder as you searched the hangers in your closet, bath towel wrapped snug around your frame and your hair thrown up into a bun, which was presenting more like a mess of damp strands.

“It doesn’t matter what we think, Kie,” You made clear, eyeing a cute shirt you thought you’d lost. “We should just be there for him.”

“Yeah… but what if we’re just feeding into a fantasy? Wouldn’t that make us bad friends if we weren’t honest with him?” You could hear her shuffling around on the other end of the phone as well, dresser drawers slamming occasionally.

“Maybe you’re right.” You sighed, throwing your outfit onto your bed and heading back into the closet to find a bikini to wear underneath. Living in the Outer Banks meant you had a plethora to choose from. “But the way I see it? If it were my dad that went missing, I’d be looking for him too. I’d give anything to even have that small hope that my dad was still alive back, but I know he isn’t… so, I understand.”

“I didn’t think about it like that…” It was sad to hear her so conflicted, as if she’d said the wrong thing.

“Well, I wouldn’t expect you to. And I would never want you to be able to understand that feeling. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.” You reassured, putting the girl on speaker to toss the phone on your bed and slipping the bikini you picked out onto your frame and tying the respective knots. “That’s why if John B thinks his dad is alive and wants to look for him? That’s what we’re gonna do. Because alive or not, John B is like a brother to me and leaving him to do this alone is what would make us bad friends.”

“I guess you’re right…are you still meeting up with the guys today?”

“Just J and John B for right now. Pope said he’d be around later after helping his pops.” You told her, slipping an oversized shirt over top of the bikini, eyeing your closet shelves for a pair of shorts.

“Alright, I might swing by if my parents aren’t up my ass about work.” She complained. “Talk to you later.”

“Later.” Was all you said before the end-call sound rang out in the expanse of your bedroom.

A swift series of knocks met your closed door from the other side, you shouted for them to come in, assuming it was either your mother or your dog Marley’s tail hitting the wood. The 2-year-old golden retriever had a knack for sitting outside your bedroom door on the rare occasion that it was closed and she wasn’t inside.

The knob twisted and in walked your mother, adorned in her signature navy blue pencil skirt and blazer, still a half hour to spare before she had to head off to her office for work. Rebecca Reyes was the Outer Banks’ most notable and renowned lawyer. Even when you still lived on The Cut all those months ago, she was still the island's number one defender. Moving to Figure Eight and getting rich, almost overnight, just gave her the resources she needed. You still questioned where all the money spawned from, chopping it down to your father’s life insurance coming through.

But the bank said that could take a while and you never assumed it was enough to buy a house on Figure Eight. But that’s adult stuff, you thought to yourself.

“You got home late yesterday,” She began bluntly, adjusting the diamond bracelet on her wrist. The smell of her expensive perfume already wafting into your space. “Where were you?”

“Just out with John B and the others.” You said with a shrug, walking out the closet with a pair of sneakers in your hands as you undid the tied laces.

She hummed, eyeing the space around you as if she’d never seen it before. “Did you hear about the boat they’re searching for? Scooter Grubbs’ boat?”

You side eyed her quickly, not quick enough for her to catch however. “Yeah, the whole island is losing their minds over it.”

“You and your friends haven’t come across anything, have you?”

“...I doubt we’d have any luck coming across a Grady-White, mom. Especially after the hurricane. That boat could be oceans away for all we know.”

“Right.” She agreed, but she seemed far away. Off. Why’d she care about Scooter Grubbs’ boat? “And what’s this I hear about some kid with a gun at The Point?” Your heart dropped.

“A gun?” You acted semi-shocked. “I don’t know, I wasn’t there.”

“Hm.” She droned. “Well, if you find anything don’t hesitate to tell me. Or Shoupe, for that matter. He said two out of towners showed up for the boat search yesterday, looked sketchy. So, be careful.”

You hummed in agreement, watching as the woman strutted out of the room without even a small ‘goodbye’.

You and your mother were nowhere near as close as you used to be. Your father’s passing caused a rift between the two of you that seemed irreparable. You just felt like she had become so cold and closed off, nothing like the woman who used to bake every weekend or plan family nights in the backyard. She was more secretive, dismissive. You couldn’t even remember what her smile looked like. She’d changed so much. She used to hate Sheriff Shoupe, said he was a dirty cop who worked under the rich snobs of Figure Eight. Now, it’s like they’re business partners of some sort and she is a rich snob on Figure Eight.

She even changed her last name back after your father died and wouldn’t tell you why. That was what made you feel the most alone. Rebecca Carter was now Rebecca Reyes but you were still Y/N Carter and your father would always be Owen Carter.

It was like she was trying to erase him and everything they’d built together.

You hated to admit that sometimes you wondered what your father would think of the woman she’s become. If she would be as unrecognizable to him as she is to you.

YOU SAT IN THE BACK OF THE VAN, legs bent as your journal rested atop your thighs while you scribbled down your thoughts and recent events — namely the events of yesterday. You had one earbud in, your playlist on shuffle as you half-listened into JJ and John B’s conversation that was happening in the front seat, the bumpy ride making your handwriting a bit chicken scratch-ish.

“I don’t understand why you don’t at least try with Kiara,” JJ started, his heavy boots kicked up on the dashboard. “She clearly likes you. She’s like ‘Oh, John B!’. She’s sketchy about you diving and then she kissed you, bro.” The blonde continued.

“She kissed me on the cheek. It’s not like we were makin’ out.” John B denied, brushing off the girl’s clear affections.

“Low-hanging fruit, bro.” JJ cut him off, the statement making you cringe in silence as you continued to scribble. “I see it in your eyes. You’re like ‘I kind of like that’.” JJ said in a mockingly low and seductive voice.

“Okay, you want to talk about me?”

“Yeah, bro, I wanna talk about you and your lack of game.”

“My lack- my lack of game? Okay, what game do you have, JJ? ‘Cause I haven’t seen any improvement in your case.” JJ’s head whipped between you and the boy in the driver’s seat within milliseconds before he was swatting John B’s arm.

“C’mon, dude...” He warned in a hushed tone. John B just chuckled.

“That’s what I thought.”

Moments of silence passed before their voices were heard again. “I gotta admit, your dad’s compass in Scooter’s boat? Freaky, man…” JJ claimed, twirling the newfound object between his fingers.

“That’s why we’re going to talk to Ms. Lana and figure this whole thing out. She’s his wife, she has to know something.” John B told him.

“And what makes you think she would want to talk to us?” You added, spooking the blonde boy in the passenger seat.

“How long have you been listen-”

“I’m always listening.” You spoke bluntly, a blank expression on your face as you averted your attention from your journal to him. “Anyway,” you dismissed. “A group of teenagers showing up to ask her about her dead husband, the boat that the whole island is looking for, and the compass we found inside of said dead husband’s lost boat? She’ll either think we’re criminals, FBI, or crazy.”

“Well, this is our first resort.” John B replied, eyes looking at you through the rearview. “We gotta try.”

“KNOW WHAT THIS HOUSE LOOKS LIKE?” JJ said, leading the group of us to the front yard of Lana Grubbs’ residence. “Whoever lives here smokes too much weed.” He observed the small, shack-like house — the walls were overgrown with weeds, the yard looked like it’d never been cut, the place was a mess from the outside.

The three of you stopped, more like flinched, in your tracks when you heard glass-shattering from the inside of the house followed by crash after crash. It sounded like the outside of a rage-room or a gun range.

“Maybe we should come back…” JJ advised, taking small steps back. But John B persisted, even as the two of you stood back in fear.

“No, no, shut up, JJ.” John B reprimanded absentmindedly.

“Tell me where it is or I’ll fuck you up!” A deep, brassy voice boomed from the inside. The voice so authoritative it made you shudder, but it didn’t worry you as when a woman’s scream followed. You could only assume it was Ms. Lana. “I’ll sink you in the fucking-” A crash, louder than the rest, cut off the sentence, almost covering the sound of Ms. Lana’s blood-curling screech.

“You’re hurting me!”

John B beckoned JJ and you on with his hands, urging the both of you to move forward. Reluctantly, and after a weary glance at one another, you and JJ followed the brunette boy who was edging closer and closer to the side of the house.

“Where the fuck is it?!”

“I don’t know!”

The three of you quickly dashed and ducked beneath the window seal on the only open window when you heard something hit the wall from the inside. You had just parted your lips to say that, just maybe, this was a bad idea. A terrible one, even, before a phrase yelled by the angry man inside had you shutting up.

“The compass wasn’t in the boat! Where is it, Lana?!”

“I don’t know!”

Your heart dropped as things continued to get thrown and slammed inside the house and you prayed those ‘things’ didn’t happen to be Lana. The paint and wood started to physically chip and fall off the walls outside, landing on top of the three of you crouched against the side of the house, wood particles falling into your eyes.

“Let’s get the hell out of here, man…” Another male voice commanded, followed by two pairs of heavy footsteps against the wooden floors inside. The three of you peeked around the corner to watch the two men disappear from the grounds through the front door, stomping angrily towards their boat.

The same boat that had been shooting at you only 24 hours prior.

“Those were the guys that shot at us.” JJ whisper-yelled.

“Go back.” John B commanded, pushing you all back behind the safety of the wall so they wouldn’t see you all. Once the boat sped off, the three of you slowly tip-toed your way into the house. The sound of Lana’s cries getting louder and more heartbreaking the more you entered the house, shoes crunching on wood and glass. Photo frames and dishes all broken into smaller fractions and littered on the floor, holes in the walls, kitchen cabinets hanging on by a single hinge.

“Ms. Lana?” You called out, voice laced with concern, eyeing the broken windows before they found Ms. Lana’s curled up figure on the bathroom floor right below the sink that was hanging on by a singular pipe. “Oh my God.” You gasped, kneeling right next to the woman and laying a hand on her shoulder that caused her to flinch and shrink in on herself.

She had tears running from her red, swollen eyes, curled up like someone’s child.

“She is tweakin’.”

“Shut up, JJ.” You hissed, shooting a mean glare at the insensitive blonde before turning your attention back to the feeble woman. “Do you need a doctor? We can call a doctor for you.” You assured, examining the multiple cuts adorning the woman’s face and arms.

“We can call the sheriff’s department-” John B was on the verge of suggesting before Lana cut him off frantically.

“No cops, please!”

“Mm, that’s not good. Let’s bounce.” JJ urged, weary of the woman’s persistence to avoid law enforcement.

“You shouldn’t be here...” Lana cried, her eyes focused on John B, speaking as her lip quivered and her voice shook.

The brunette’s face twisted, kneeling next to me to level his gaze with Ms. Lana’s. “Do you know those guys?”

“They were… looking for something.” Her voice wavered.

“...Does it have anything to do with this?” John B asked her, pulling the compass from the back pocket of his board shorts. You and JJ shared a glance, both knowing John B probably shouldn’t have shown it to her. “This was my father’s and Scooter had it. Do you know why?”

Why did John B think showing a woman his father’s compass and saying he copped it from her dead husband was a good idea? You had no clue. Interrogation tactic? Impulsiveness? Stupidity? Lana’s eyes were wide and teary, she looked like she was seeing ghosts.

“Scooter didn’t have it, okay? Don’t tell anyone that you have that. They can’t know that you have that!”

Your lips pulled themselves into a thin line and you were starting to feel less bad for Lana and more suspicious of the distressed woman. Maybe she wasn’t as innocent as she appeared. She didn’t seem to be a threat but she clearly knew things that she shouldn’t. You nudged JB’s arm, whispering in his direction even though the woman could most likely still hear you. “We should go…”

“You’ve gotta get out of here!” Lana cried, fearful gaze eyeing the compass in John’s grasp.

“What do you know about the compass?” John B raised his voice over her frantic one, still questioning Lana as JJ pulled him back and the three of you stood to leave.

“Go! Get out!” Was the last thing you heard as the hysteric woman yelled at your retreating figures.

“SO, YOU SAW THE GUYS THAT SHOT AT US, RIGHT?” Pope asked with his head in his hands, stressed after listening to JJ’s dramatic rendition of events. The three of you had returned to The Chateau and summoned Kiara and Pope not too long after, the events of today on the tip of your tongue. “Did you get a good description of them? Anything we can bring to a police report?”

You shook your head along with JJ and John B as Kiara and Pope sighed at you all's lack of response. There was nothing special about these guys. Sure, they seemed out of place but that’s because nobody on the island knew them. That was one perk about living in Kildare, everyone knows everyone. But these weren’t leather jacket, ski-mask wearing criminals. They didn’t stick out like sore thumbs.

“That’s not very helpful…” Kiara huffed.

“But, but,” JJ started again. “They were burly. Like the men I’d see at my dad’s garage. You guys know he made cargo hides for drug smugglers...” He reminded you all carelessly. “I can tell you with full confidence that these guys? They’re square groupers.”

“Like Narcos square groupers?” Pope questioned with little amusement, his face dropping as he watched JJ smoke against the brick wall.

“Like, Pablo Escobar square grouper?” You added on, just as skeptical from your seat on the patio floor, legs stretched in front of you and crossed over one another while you leaned on your elbows for support. JJ just nodded, blowing out smoke.

“You guys, not everything is a kingpin movie.” Kie reprimanded from her place next to Pope on the patio furniture.

“Okay,” Pope started. “What does a square grouper look like? Hm? Because clearly, you don’t know what you’re talking about-”

“Okay, you weren’t there! I wasn’t taking little mental polaroids the entire time, dude! I was under duress!” JJ whined to which you and John B rolled your eyes.

“Why would they want the compass?” Kiara probed, leaning forward in her seated position, resting her forearms on her thighs.

“That thing’s a piece of shit, you could pawn it off for five bucks if you wanted to… No offense, John B.” Pope claimed honestly, watching as John B flicked the object open and stared at it longingly, paying no mind to the boy’s insult.

“Well, clearly it’s worth something.” You popped in. “Considering these guys are willing to kill for it.”

“...The office.” You all turned to the scruffy brunette. A silent question on everyone’s face. “My dad’s office.” John B continued, shooting up and walking inside The Chateau as you all scurried to follow, shooting one another confused glances. “He always kept the office locked ‘cause he was worried about his competitors stealing his Royal Merchant research. Remember?” He directed at you and JJ, looking back but still walking forward. “We used to laugh at him like he was actually going to find it. But now that he’s…gone, I just left it as he kept it.” He said despondently.

“Yeah. For when he gets back.” Kie backed him up with a light-tipped smile. Keys jangled as John B unlocked the room you hadn’t seen in years. Not since before Big John went missing. Before all of this.

“I’ve slept over here like six-hundred times and I’ve never seen this door opened.” Pope said aloud, eyeing the office like a museum.

This was like being hit by a tidal-wave for you. And you’re sure it was the same for John B. You can remember the countless nights you’d slept over before and after Big John went missing. Before he went missing and you, JB, and JJ would peek inside just to watch him just write and type like his life depended on it. It even brought back memories of when your dad would stay a while after dropping you off to spend the night just to share beers in the backyard with Big John.

The nights after his disappearance weren’t as sweet though. Sleeping in a group hug around John B after his dad went missing. Then your friends all slept in a group hug around you after your dad went missing. Then they slept in another group hug around you when your dad’s body was found, washed up on the shore for the entire island to see. With the plethora of events, The Chateau became a haunted house in your mind.

“Look,” John B said, pulling you out of your stupor. He’d taken a bulletin board down off of the walls that was decorated with paper scraps and old pictures. His index finger pointed to the photo at the very top, a sepia-like tint to it. “This was the original owner of the compass.”

The paper pinned against the photo read ‘Robert Q. Routledge. 1880 - 1920’.

“There’s the lucky compass right there.” Kiara showed you all, pointing to the object clutched in the old man’s hand in the picture. You wouldn’t exactly call the compass lucky, though. And if it was before, it surely isn’t now.

“Actually, um. He was shot after he bought it…” John B informed. “Then the compass was shipped back to Henry.” He continued guiding you all through the timeline, pointing to the next picture. “Henry was killed in a crop-dusting accident when he had the compass.” You happened to look up at the exact same time as Pope, the two of you locking eyes with visible worry. “After he died, the compass was given to Stephen. Stephen had it when he died in Vietnam.” The boy ranted. “After that, Stephen passed the compass down to my dad.”

“This is painting a very bad picture, JB…” You warned, hand on the back of your neck as your face twisted.

“Yeah, he has a death compass.” Pope deadpanned.

“I do not.” John B denied, rolling his eyes and sitting down in the nearest chair with the compass still in hand. “My dad used to talk about this compartment here.” He explained, fiddling with the article between his fingers. “Soldiers used to hide secret notes.” He twisted the back of it off, revealing a word scratched into the top. He sat up with surprise as he spoke. “...This is my dad’s handwriting.”

Pope scoffed. “How can you know that?”

“He’s right.” You assured the doubtful male absentmindedly, squinting your eyes and craning your neck down to see the word written into the metal. “Big John had horrific handwriting and his R’s always had a point to them. I always used to think they looked like big-headed baby chicks, in a way. That’s definitely his handwriting.”

“Weird observation…but she’s right.” John B backed you up, his eyes going back to the compass. “Redfield…” He muttered. “What’s Redfield? Is it a clue?”

“A clue? C’mon that’s-” Pope began until you shot him a nasty glare, silently telling him to be helpful and supportive or shut up. His eyes widened as he gulped. “If it is a clue, m-maybe it’s an anagram?”

“Yes!” John B jumped up from his seat, beckoning you all to back up some. “Anagram. Perfect. You need paper.” He directed at Pope, eyeing scanning the cluttered space. Handing the boy an old, crinkled sheet of notebook paper, Pope got to work with the help of JJ and Kiara as John B and you scoured the desks for anything else of use.

Your ears were quick to pick up on the sound of an engine over the chatter of the brainiac bunch behind you. Eyes perking up to see a black truck pulling onto the yard.”...Guys?” You spoke, but not loud enough. “Guys!” You shushed them, all eyes turning to you. “Somebody’s here.”

The five of you crowded around the window, peeking through the blinds and peering through the dusted glass. Two males got out of the car and you recognized them immediately. “Those are the guys from The Marsh and Lana’s house.”

John B was quick to turn towards JJ. “Where’s the gun?”

“I don’t know-”

“Now you don’t have the gun? The one time we need the gun?” Kiara panicked.

“It was in my backpack and then I-...it’s on the porch.” JJ quickly realized, sighing before biting his lip out of frustration.

“Go. Go get it.” John B urged quietly but you were quick to step up, tugging the short sleeve of JJ’s shirt before he could open the door.

“No, no, we are not sending JJ out there to be pummeled by square troopers, square groupers, whatever they are-”

“We need the gun-” The bandana-wearing boy hissed.

“I don’t care. We stay put. We stay together.” You insisted. But JJ gently swiped your hand down and backed out of your reach, one hand up in surrender. “What’re you doing-”

“It’ll be quick, I swear. I’m like a ninja-”

“JJ.” You said simply, disappointed as you curled your fist in annoyance.

“I’ll be on my Batman shit.” He whispered before leaving the room quietly with the door cracked behind him, allowing you all to see him leave.

“John Routledge!” A country man’s voice boomed, causing JJ to turn around and slide his way back into the room quietly before he’d even made it two steps outside of the office. “C’mon out now!” JJ closed and locked the door as you all heard the pairs of footsteps enter The Chateau. The men began smashing and throwing things around just as they did Ms. Lana’s house. Was this their MO or something?

‘Window’ Kie mouthed, pointing to the window that led straight into the yard, towards the chicken coop and the surf shack. JJ and Pope rushed over to it as John B held down the door, which was just him standing against it with his hands above his head. JJ and Pope tried to lift the frame but it wouldn’t budge. Your face twisted in confusion, walking over to where the two boys were struggling and attempting to pull up the window seal yourself with no better luck.

“It’s painted shut.” You couldn’t help but smack your teeth, cursing under your breath as your eyes quickly scanned the room for something sharp as you patted the back of your shorts, feeling an object in your pocket. Digging your hand in to reveal a pen, the one you’d been using to journal that morning. You whispered for the guys to move before ejecting the pen and sliding it quickly along the seal to break it as quickly as possible.

Suddenly, one of the square groupers began kicking the door down, John B running across the room.

“Hurry!” Kiara whispered.

“I’m going as fast as I can!” You hissed. When the seal was completely broken, you wasted no time in opening the window, being the first to jump down into the backyard and making a b-line for the coop. The five of you piled inside one by one, the space surprisingly big enough for five fully grown teenagers as you crouched in tense silence. Just then, you heard a shot ring out from the inside of the house, assuming the man shot the door down.

Everyone could hear everyone breathing, shaky breaths all throughout the small enclosure. And the roosters. One rooster would not stop crowing. You were hoping, praying the damn thing would stop making noise. It wasn’t long before the guys were seen leaving the house, carrying at least two crates of books and research each.

“Pope, shut him up.” JJ demanded, referring to the rooster next to Pope that was making the most noise.

“What am I supposed to do?”

“Pet it or something, I don’t know.” Kie cried. Suddenly , JJ got up and grabbed the rooster by its neck, pressing it into the ground until its neck audibly snapped and its clucking ceased. You couldn’t help but cringe and look away, the sight somehow prompting you to gag. JJ’s eyes met yours as if he was making sure you were okay, you giving him a sickly nod in return. One that wasn’t as reassuring as you hoped. Kie was crying silently and you didn’t miss the way John B grabbed her hand in comfort.

“WHAT BETTER PLACE TO HIDE A MESSAGE THAN A FAMILY HEIRLOOM?” John B tried to muse from the driver’s seat of The Twinkie.

“Maybe somewhere more easily accessible.” You said bluntly, laying back on the floor of the van, your foot on Pope and head in JJ’s lap, Kiara in the passenger seat. “Like a hidden jewelry box compartment or a locked drawer. Not inside of a death compass on a dead man’s sunken boat.”

John B simply ignored you. “He had to know it was gonna get back to me, right?” He spoke hopefully, referring to his father.

“It’s possible.” Kie agreed from the passenger seat next to him, not wholeheartedly however.

“It could also be possible that you’re concocting wild theories to help deal with your sad feels- Ow!” Pope was interrupted when you kicked his knee, shooting him a glance that said ‘what the hell'.

“You know how I process my sad feels,” JJ started, your eyes drifting to him as your head craned slightly back from its place atop his thighs. “Dank nugs and the stickiest of ickies.”

“Preach.” You agreed, dapping up the blonde boy.

“Look, I’m not concocting, okay?” John B nearly shouted in frustration. “My dad’s trying to give me a message.”

“...If it helps you believe, John B.” Kiara tried softly.

“I don’t need a therapy session. I’m not trippin’ out.” He dismissed the four of you. “My dad is missing, okay? Missing. You guys don’t know what it’s like to have the person closest to you vanish and have no idea what happened.”

Suddenly, the two pairs of eyes in the back of the van turned to you. You couldn’t help but curl in on yourself slightly. “Stop it.” You demanded, averting your eyes to the window, watching the palm trees pass by. You hated when they acted like you had to be shielded from things because of what happened to your dad.

“It’s been almost a year.” Kiara nudged JB, letting it go. “But fine. What do you think the message is?”

“Redfield.” The brunette reiterated hopefully. “Redfield Lighthouse. My dad’s favorite place.”

THE LIGHTHOUSE LOOKED A BIT DIFFERENT THAN YOU REMEMBERED. It looked older, more rickety. You could swear it was leaning now. The five of you stood staring up at it before John B turned around to face JJ.

“You’re gonna post up out here and look for bogey’s. Alright?”

“Wait, why me?” JJ asked pitifully.

“...JJ, there are independent variables and dependent variables. You’re an independent variable-” Pope tried to reason.

“Shut up.” The blonde-haired boy dismissed with a snarl.

“We don’t know what you’re gonna do!”

“Just shut up!”

“Listen to me,” John B broke the boys up, pointing an assertive finger. “Pope, you stand lookout with JJ. Y/N, you make sure they don’t rip each other’s heads off. If we get split up, we meet back at JJ’s house.” You watched as Kiara and John B hopped over the fence and onto the lighthouse property. You slid your back against a nearby tree, one earbud placed in your ear as you drummed your fingers against your thigh, playing with blades of grass between your fingers.

“I’m gonna work on my merit scholarship essay. I’m trying to keep felonies to a minimum.”

“All right, would you just shut up already?” JJ sassed, you rolling your eyes and scoffing at them both. A few beats passed before JJ spoke again. “They’re probably boning in there right now.”

“Jesus, JJ…” You breathed out.

“What? You don’t honestly believe they don’t have a thing for each other, do you?” He defended.

“Maybe you’re just jealous.” Pope offered from his place in the grass.

“Jealous? Of what?”

“Because John B’s trying to move in on Kie and you have a thing for her.”

“Listen, dude,” JJ started with his hands out in front of him. “Kie’s hot and all but she’s a kook. I don’t see her like that.”

“That’s what they all say.” You sang playfully, causing JJ to whip around to face you.

“Oh, really? And what about little miss pretty & popular?”

You visibly cringed. “Ew, don’t ever refer to me like that again.”

“You’re telling me you aren’t crushin’ on someone? No rich, polo-wearing kid swept you off your feet during you and Kie’s kook year?” He egged on.

“Knock it off, JJ.” Pope defended when he saw how your face fell at the mention of it. You hated when they brought it up. Technically Kie’s kook year was longer than yours, considering you’d joined her kook friend group when you moved to Figure Eight. That was an era of your life you’d love nothing more than to forget.

“Fine, fine,” He backed off, his hands thrown up in mock surrender as he backed some steps away. Just then, the three of your heads whipped to the dirt road behind you at the sound of police sirens. You snatched the earbud out of your ear and pocketed it, standing up from your place against the tree. They were clearly headed for the lighthouse.

“What do we do? Do we wait?” Pope asked frantically.

“We can’t, man, c’mon.” JJ urged, sprinting towards the van with you and Pope following close behind. He jumped into the driver’s seat, pulling off before you and Pope had even closed the side door completely. You could only have faith that your other two friends made it out okay.

“NEXT TIME YOU END UP AT THE SHERIFF’S OFFICE, YOU CALL ME FIRST. DO YOU UNDERSTAND, JOHN BOOKER?” Your mother reprimanded the poor boy, her heels clacking against the pavement outside of the department. You didn’t expect a call from John B after you all had run from the lighthouse, coming from the Kildare County Sheriff’s Station from John B saying he and Kiara had been “arrested”.

“Yes, ma’am.” He affirmed. By the time you’d arrived at the station, Kiara had apparently already left with her dad who’d refused to bail John B out as well, leaving the boy with only one other option. The three of you stopped in front of your mother’s car as she now turned to face the two of you.

“Shoupe already has enough to deal with. The sheriff’s office doesn’t need a couple of rowdy teenagers on their radar. I don’t know what you kids were doing up at the lighthouse that led to this, but drop it. Do you understand?”

“Yes.” You both blurted out simultaneously, your mother having a newfound knack for intimidating people. She didn’t hesitate to jump in her car and start the engine, giving one last look as a goodbye.

YOU WERE AT THE DOCKS WAITING ON JOHN B, SITTING ON THE WOOD AND SWINGING YOUR FEET. You’d gone with him when he realized it was time for him to work, an employee saying Ward was looking for him as soon as the pair of you had arrived. He was up on The Druther’s, Ward’s boat, talking to the man himself. You couldn’t tell what the conversation was from your seat on the docks, so you waited. It was only minutes before the boy himself came stomping down the marina, prompting you to get up and dust yourself off.

“Is everything okay-”

“I just got fired.” He blurted, not even making eye contact with you and he brushed past you. You stuttered at his passive nature, scurrying to follow behind him.

“What do you mean you just got fired?”

“Ward found out about the gear.” He scoffed, and even with his back to you as he breezed through the working people to leave the dock, you could almost feel his frustration. “I can’t believe her.” He muttered.

“Who? Who are you talking about, John B?” You soon got your answer as Sarah Cameron walked by, you and the girl making brief eye contact with a mutual snarl on both of your lips before her attention turned to John B, who she somehow saw after you.

“Hey, John B.” She greeted, her hands full of paper bags that were filled to the brim with groceries, a large, brimmed hat on the top of her head. You weren’t surprised when he continued walking as you followed without a word to the girl, but she persisted. “That’s it?” Sarah scoffed. “Not a ‘hey, how you doin’’? Not a ‘kiss my ass’?”

You didn’t expect John B to turn around and swiftly walk over to the girl, getting all in her face. With the noise of the busy marina in the back, their close conversation became hushed but it was still audible enough.

“Your secret’s safe with me? Really?” Your friend pressed the girl. “I just got fired because of you. And I know you can’t imagine that but some people need jobs, so they can eat.” Nothing shocked you more than when he smacked the bag of goods from her arms, leaving Sarah stunned as fruits rolled in front of her sandals. Her jaw slack and eyes wide.

“What the fuck?” She hollered.

“You are exactly who I thought you were, Sarah Cameron.” He reprimanded, turning and leaving behind a stunned kook girl. Although, you would’ve paid money to see that again, it was such an odd interaction.

You knew he worked on Ward’s boat so he was bound to come across her but you weren’t aware they really talked. If you didn’t know either of them, you’d assume they were a high school couple arguing out in public.

The brunette brushed past you once again, taking his time and seemingly building up the courage to break into a run.

“Wh- John B!” You called from your place in the parking lot. “John B, where are you going?!” But it was no use as he simply left you behind and continued sprinting away. You figured you’d just give him some space to himself.

YOU’D RECONNECTED WITH POPE AND JJ SOON AFTER BEING LEFT IN THE DUST BY JOHN B, meeting them on the docks in The Cut. The three of you had been there for some hours, you helping Pope fix a generator while JJ smoked unhelpfully to the side when John B pulled up in The Twinkie.

He honked, beckoning the three of you into the van with a finger and none of you questioned what was happening or where you were going as you hopped into the rickety vehicle. You were mildly pissed about being left at The Marina but you got in nonetheless.

THE SUN HAD SET AND YOU ALL STILL HADN’T ARRIVED YET. John B briefly explained the destination and plan but you half-listened. You’d been driving for a long time, picking up Kiara along the way, with no clue as to where the five of you were going.

“Do you mind if I sit this one out?” JJ asked tiredly. “It’s been a long, weird day…”

“Look, I know I was wrong about the lighthouse.” John B acknowledged. “And wrong about everything else. But I was right about one thing — my dad is trying to tell me something.”

Just then you pulled up to a graveyard, the five of you piling out of the van with a flashlight each in your hand. “This place is scary.” Kie voiced. “John B, what are we doing?”

“You know how you’re trying to remember a song but you can’t remember who sings it?” He started. “Redfield. This whole time, I thought it was a place.” He explained as you all followed him further into the mess of graves and tombstones. “But it’s not.” He held the lantern in his hand up once you all stopped in front of a tomb, one of the tallest ones in the yard, revealing “REDFIELD” engraved in the stone. “It’s a person. My great-great-grandmother, Olivia Redfield. That was her maiden name.” He spoke longingly, looking up at the stone letters. “Help me with the door. C’mon.”

Pope stepped forward as the remaining three of you flashed your lights in the pair’s direction as they attempted and failed to push the tomb door open.

“Are you pushing?” Pope said to the brunette.

“Yes, I’m pushing.” John B strained out. Then JJ was jumping into help but even with his addition, the boys had no luck opening the door. They all jumped back when a snake hissed, peeking its head out from a crack in the stone structure.

“Woah! That’s a moccasin, alright” JJ started, jumping back almost cartoonistically. “Ye-old cottonmouth. Death in tall grass. Roof! Roof!” JJ started barking at the snake. Sometimes, you questioned his sanity.

“JJ! Shut up!” You warned the erratic blonde.

“You’re gonna wake the dead.” Pope slapped him on the shoulder, grimacing.

“Dude, they’re afraid of dogs. Everybody knows that.” He breathed out, straightening himself back out.

“Look, John,” Pope sighed, turning his attention back to John B. “We’re not gonna get in there, it’s not budging. We should probably just go.”

You were examining the tomb carefully, flashlight trailing the structure up and down before you noticed something. “I think I can get through.”

“...What?” John B spoke.

“You think you’re gonna fit through that hole?” Pope asked, worried.

“I’ll do it.” You reassured them, ignoring their concerns. “Just help me up.” They all shuffled to help you up — Kiara and John B holding the vines away and to the sides while JJ and Pope intertwined their hands for you to use as a human step-stool.

“What am I looking for?” You inquired, eyes fleeting to John B.

“You’ll know when you see it.” Your hands slapped your thighs. Helpful, you thought, but you didn’t ask anymore questions. You put your flashlight in between your teeth, like a dog carrying a bone before laying a hand on each of the boys shoulders, you put your foot over their connected hands and boosted yourself up.

It was a tight squeeze but you made your way through, landing on your feet and removing the flashlight from your teeth. It took your eyes a minute to adjust, staring at the walls of the spooky space.

“You alive in there?” JJ called.

“Alive and kickin’.” You called back, aiming the flashlight everywhere, scanning over everything. But the space was much bigger than you thought and your one flashlight didn’t seem to be enough. “I need more light, please.”

“Gotcha’.” John B said, pushing his arm holding the lantern through the crack of the wall, illuminating the space by tenfold. And that light was just what you needed.

“Oh my God…” You breathed out. John B may not have led you all on a goose-chase after all.

feedback is appreciated! thanks for reading.

SVN Taglist; (let me know if you'd like to be added!) @esquivelbianca @fallingwallsh @calmoistorm

©loveharlow.

#Spotify #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank #jj mayback imagine #jj mayback x reader #obx jj #SVN #obx fanfiction #jj maybank x you #jj maybank fluff #obx jj x reader #jj maybank smut #jj maybank imagine #obx jj maybank #obx netflix #obx x reader

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moremaybank · 8 months

Note

jj x john b’s little sister will always have a special place in my heart. Especially when she’s been pining over him since they were kids, the built up tension, the way they act like a couple but they’re not, ugh!

no bc this is my favourite trope with jj 😭 it's just so fitting and honestly nothing hits like a good brother's best friend trope (at least for me)

You were lying in bed, mindlessly scrolling through your phone when you hear your front door open, followed by the clunking of heavy shoes against the hardwood floors as they walked their way through your home.

At first, you panicked. Was this it? Were you about to get murdered in the comfort of your own home, warm and cozy in your bed? But then it clicked. There was only one person you knew who had loud footsteps like that. He had messy blonde hair, sparkling blue eyes, a cheeky grin. He was most likely wearing one of his worn out cut-offs, and black timberland boots.

Those staple shoes of his were definitely the culprit.

Your doorknob twisted open slowly, and there JJ was. Stumbling into your room with a hazy smile on his face. He tripped over his foot upon entry, leading him to kick his boots off clumsily.

"J, what the hell are you doing? I thought you were Freddy Krueger or something, jeez."

He plopped onto your bed, using one hand to pluck your phone from your hand and toss it to the other side of your bed. He laid between your legs, resting his head against your stomach and wrapping his arms around your waist.

Butterflies erupted in your stomach instantly. Being this close and cozy wasn't new for the two of you; you'd been touchy since you were kids. Endless piggyback rides, cuddling sessions during movie nights, playing with each other's hair, that was just the two of you in your normal state. That's what happens when you've known someone since you were in elementary school.

"Hi," he murmured, nuzzling into you as he got comfy. "You smell good."

Your brows furrowed as you held back a laugh. "Are you drunk?"

"No." A moment of silence passed, and then he spoke up again. "Maybe."

"Okay, and where's my brother?"

"Ditched me for his kook girlfriend."

You hummed in response, starting to weave your fingers through his sun-kissed locks. You heard him sigh in content, and he hooked his legs over one of yours.

"D'you wanna get high?" JJ asked, breaking the silence.

Your hand crept down to his cheek, stroking it with your thumb gently. "I think you're intoxicated enough, Maybank."

He picked his head up, his chin now resting where the left side of his face was previously smushed against. He smiled, his eyelids half closed. "You're always takin' care o'me. So sweet, like candy."

"You always need to be taken care of," you joked in response. The small huff of laughter he let out was like music to your ears. You could listen to it on repeat for the rest of your days, and it'd always be your favourite soundtrack.

His eyes seemed to glimmer as he zoned in on yours again. He released a sigh, before reaching up and cupping your cheek. "You're so beautiful."

Your heart fluttered. You were used to JJ's unrelenting flirtations, but he'd never said anything like that to you. It'd always been lookin' good, mini routledge, or we should makeout. y'know, for science.

"Don't. You're only saying that 'cause you're drunk. It's mean."

His brow arched. "Me thinking you're beautiful is mean? I don't get it."

"It's mean because it's just the alcohol talking," you explained. "You don't really mean it, J."

"I do mean it. Why do you think I'm starin' at you all the time? I have to force myself to keep my eyes off you."

He was pulling at your heartstrings, saying all the things you'd been longing to hear from his mouth for as long as you could remember. It almost felt cruel; the fact that he could say these things so casually as if the memory wouldn't be burned into your brain until the end of time.

"Go to sleep, JJ. We'll talk in the morning," you spoke, eyes darting away from his as you changed the topic.

JJ removed himself from your hold, scooting up next to you and using his index finger and thumb to guide your gaze onto him. His eyes were softened, so vulnerable as they looked at you. He wore a small pout, too, only making you want to plant a kiss on it and wash it away.

"I know 'm an idiot. But one of these days, I'm gonna get my head outta my ass and tell you that I got a major thing for you," he said. "You're gonna be my girl, princess. I'm not sure of much, but I am sure of that."

And with that, he laid his head down on the pillow next to yours, slinging an arm over your waist and cuddling into your side.

"Good night, beautiful."

concepts

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softspiderling · 1 month

Text

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

You rarely had a night by yourselves most days.

Majority of them, you were either hanging out with Rafe, yours or his place, didn’t really make a difference, or you were out with your friends.

This Saturday night, you were by yourself, a rare occasion.

Rafe and Sarah were in Charleston with their family for some charity that Rose was a part of. When Rafe first invited you to come, you declined, saying you’d rather stay home and hang with your friends or something (he was huffing and puffing about it for hours afterwards, until you made it up to him). When the weekend came around, you realized that all of your friends seemed to be busy: Cleo and Pope were driving out to fish with his parents and made a whole weekend out of it, John B and JJ went to Hatteras island for some surfing competition and Kie had to help her parents at the Wreck because they were hosting an event.

John B and JJ had invited you to tag along, but you a: you weren’t a good enough of a surfer to participate in the competition and b: you didn’t want to sit at the beach by yourself while the boys were in the water. You had half a mind to take up Rafe for the invitation to the charity but it was extremely last minute and you didn’t have anything to wear so you scratched that idea and came to terms with spending your Saturday night by yourself.

Since the event at the Wreck didn’t start until 7, you spent the day hanging out there with Kie, snacking on some fries, drinking your weight in iced tea and texting Rafe until you had to leave to let Kie prep for the event.

you: i’m actually so bored, i’m starting to regret not coming with you 😞

rafe❤️: told you to come, didn’t i?

rafe❤️: shows that you should always listen to me.

you: pfff, please, that is not the moral of the story.

you: maybe i’ll just go to a party 🤪

rafe❤️: funny.

You tossed your phone on the couch and ran your hand through your air, sighing in frustration. As you reached for your phone again for mindless scrolling, your eye caught onto your nails, and you paused. You hadn’t done your nails in a while, mostly because you were so busy. But now would be the perfect opportunity. So you got all your nail polishes and tools out of your closet and started on prep.

About four hours later you still weren’t done. You spent the first hour on looking for inspiration on Pinterest and then the next half hour booting up Netflix so you had something to watch while you were doing your nails. Your iced coke was chilling on the table, the UV lamp curing the last layer of polish on your right hand before you could finish with top coat. Your phone was long dead, but you were too lazy to get up from the table to plug it in, your back killing you from sitting hunched over your table for so long. Yawning, you put on the top coat on your last nail before sticking your hand under the lamp, ready to fall go to bed right after you were done. Now you remembered why you hadn’t done your nails for a while. After you were finished, you packed all the things away, plugged your phone into the charger and passed out in bed.

You woke up with a start, disoriented for a second. It felt like you’d been asleep for barely an hour, but you were unsure what woke you from the slumber, when the door bell rang again.

“What the hell,” you muttered to yourself, throwing a sweater over before you padded downstairs, hearing that the person at the door has begun to knock excessively.

“Jesus Christ, I’ll be right there!” you called, hurrying down the stairs. You glanced through the window, trying to see what psycho was ringing on your doorbell in the middle of the night, just to see Rafe standing in front of the door, clearly upset.

You opened the door, barely getting a word in before he rushed inside, grabbing your arms.

“Rafe, what the hell are you doing here?”

“Where the hell have you been?” he asked hotly, staring at you before looking you up and down. “Who have you been with? Why the fuck didn’t you text me back?”

You were starting to get anxious from his behavior and you cupped his face. “Rafe, stop. Breathe. What happened?”

Rafe took a deep breath, shutting his eyes for a second.

“You haven’t replied to a text since like before eight, and your last message was about going to a party. I thought something had happened,” he gritted out. “No one was able to reach you and my calls weren’t getting through to you.”

You exhaled deeply. “God, I thought something happened to Sarah. I’m fine, babe. I was doing my nails and my phone died,” you explained, lifting your hand to show off your nails. Rafe looked at him, his eyes narrowed.

“Pretty,” he grunted, before wrapping his arms around you. “Never do that again.”

As you hugged him, you could feel the tension bleed out from his limbs and you couldn’t help but smile into his shirt.

“You’re crazy, Rafe. As if I would ever go to a party by myself,” you huffed, pulling away to look up at him. “How did you even get here so fast? I thought you guys were supposed to spend the night in Charleston.”

Rafe clenched his jaw. “I took the boat. Ward is super pissed off because I left them stranded.”

You bit back a laugh, only shaking your head at your boyfriend.

“You’re such a worrier, I was asleep.”

“Yeah, well, how the fuck was I supposed to know that?” he muttered, pulling you back into his arms.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

author's note: quick lil drabble bc i thought of how unreachable i am when doing my nails

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe x reader #rafe cameron #obx #outer banks #drew starkey

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mrsparrasblog · 1 month

Text

Mission save the human race Pt2

Pt1

You spend the night talking to John after you can't sleep anymore. Too many thoughts enter your brain. Getting pregnant at this time is dangerous, but it's what every good person would do, right? Save the human race.

"I'm a bit afraid."

"You don't need to be, Dove; I'm going to support you; either way, you saved Johnny." he reasured you.

"What if I die while giving birth? Then the whole thing is useless."

"First of all, you are a doctor; you can explain all these things beforehand, and we are soldiers going to take care of you; we would be better than delivery nurses, well, maybe except Kyle."

You chuckled. "And, um, do I need to sleep with every one of you?"

"Not at all, love; you have free choice; you can just choose one, or you can have more than one, you know since the chances are better."

"And they sure want me?"

"I think yes. Look at you."

"You only say that because I'm the only woman on earth."

"Not at all, dove; you're my type, even if there were millions."

"Liar," he pulled your hand and laid it down on his rock-hard dick.

"See how much I want you, and that's only by looking at you."

He stroked the hair out of your face and captured your lips in a kiss. The kiss was shy and thoughtful at first but turned more and more into a battle of dominance, and you knew you wanted him. "So fucking gorgeous. I wouldn't want to share you, but I'm a good man."

You rested your head against his shoulders. "I want to do it with all of you, but not together," he chuckled at your words and how flustered you got to admit your desire.

"We can talk further tomorrow; just let me cuddle you now." You fell asleep, almost suffocating in his strong arms.

------------

The next morning, you went upstairs, entangling yourself from John's massive body.

You went straight to the room where Johnny lay, checking on his fever. He cooled down overnight. You were kind of proud that you managed your surgery well without proper equipment and medication; you're a fucking genius. If the Hopkins had seen this, they would have regretted declining you after medical school.

You rubbed a paste on Johnny's surgery wound and disinfected it.

You were a bit unprofessional as your eyes glanced down at his pure muscles; you wanted to trace them down with your fingers, of course only for medical reasons. You heard the door open, and Simon stood in front of you, only wearing briefs. His thick thighs were covered in scars, and his pecs were well-defined and so fucking tall. You wanted to climb him like Mount Everest, and you sure as hell will soon.

"My eyes are up here, darling." You blushed as he noticed you staring.

"Sorry, you're just so tall, and it's hard to look up." You laughed at your own lie.

"Price told me about the little plan." He walked close to you, pinning you against the wall with sheer force. His calloused fingers touched the hem of your shirt. "I look forward to helping you, and Johnny too. Play a bit with the other boys so you'll be stretched out for both of us."

"Both of you," you breathed out in fear and arousal at the same time.

"We like to share sweet little things like you," he said, pressing his erection towards you and fucking hell which horse was that.

"I know it's big," he said and you swallowed, afraid.

"I'm going to make your stomach swell pretty fast, Doll," he said, pushing you against the wall, his fingers groping against your round ass.

"Simon-"

"Shh, doll, it's okay. We're going to take care of you soon."

You just nodded, unable to do, think, or say anything.

"Just be a good girl today and give your sweet cunt to the captain; he has a thing for cute innocent girls like you." He kissed you around your neck and then let go, making his way back to his boyfriend.

So they would share you. Should this make you feel afraid or aroused?.

You tried to shake it away and went to the kitchen, preparing some fruits for breakfast.

Price awoke to find himself alone in the bed, the sheets cooling against his skin. He sat up and stretched, yawning widely, before looking around for you.

Finding you in the kitchen, he smiled and walked over, wrapping an arm around your waist from behind.

"I feel so domestic with you around me," you said, taking in his smell.

John chuckled, leaning in to kiss your neck. "Domestic? That's a new one. But I like the sound of it." He pulled back slightly, looking into your eyes. "You know, I could get used to this—being with you, taking care of you."

"Already acting like I'm your little wife."

He smirked, his lips curling into a smile. "Well, if it means I get to be your husband, then I think I'm going to like this arrangement very much." He turned you around to face him, his hands sliding up your arms.

"Are you fulfilling your husband's duties then?"

John leaned down, his lips brushing against yours. "Oh, I plan to," he murmured before capturing your mouth in a passionate kiss.

His hands roamed over your body, exploring every curve and dip, asserting his dominance and affection at the same time.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, needing to go on your tiptoes to reach him.

John's body reacted to yours, his hands moving lower to squeeze your butt through your clothes.

He pulled back slightly, looking into your beautiful eyes as he trailed kisses down your neck and shoulders. "I love the way you respond to me," he said, his voice sounding horace and full of lust.

"And how do I respond, John?" You sounded cocky, and the awareness to not tease a man twice your strength left your body.

John's lips curled into a sinful smile. "With fire, Angel, just like this." He bit down gently on your earlobe, eliciting a soft moan from you. "You're so fucking sexy when you submit to me."

"What makes you think I'll submit to you easily?"

Price's eyes narrowed slightly, but his voice remained soft and commanding. "Because I know you want to," he said, trailing his fingers down your stomach and teasingly tickling your lower abdomen. "You love the feeling of being taken and owned." He pulled a slap on your ass, showing you how he in fact owns you right now.

"Oh, do I now?" you asked.

He chuckled, kissing your neck again. "Oh, yes. You do." He ran his hand up your thigh, gently caressing the inner part of your thigh and teasingly brushing against your pants, which were already soaked.

"You're so responsive,"

"John, everyone could walk in the kitchen any moment," you whined, afraid of what others would think of you. You gave in so easily that it didn't even take you a week to decide to become their personal fucktoy.

His eyes flickered at the door for a moment. "That just makes it more exciting," he said, his voice deep and husky. "The thought of someone walking in on us and seeing you like this turns me on."

"Oh, it turns you on how they see how good you take care of me."

"Yes," Price admitted, his voice low and raw with desire. "I love the thought of them watching me claim what's mine." He slid a hand down to cup your pussy through your panties, his fingers teasing your swollen clitoris through the fabric—you hadn't had this friction in a while, making you almost cum from it.

Mhm, John, stop, I didn't shave." Well, you trimmed, but try to shave properly in an apocalypse.

Price's eyes glinted with mischief as he leaned in to whisper against your ear. "I don't care if you haven't shaved—I even prefer it this way," he said, his beard tickling against your skin. "I want you just like this- all natural."

He nipped at your earlobe before trailing kisses down your neck, his hand still buried in your panties. "You're so fucking sexy," he murmured against your skin.

"You think so?" You knew you looked good, but good enough to be desired by these seven literal gods. You doubted it.

His eyes are burning with pure desire for you. "I fucking know so," he growled, pulling you closer and grinding his hips against your body—his erection was already there, and it was fucking big. "You're the most beautiful woman I've ever met, Angel."

"You're the most handsome man I've ever seen." Well, you couldn't quite decide which of them was the hottest, but he didn't need to know that right now.

He chuckled softly, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Flatterer," he teased, kissing you gently on the lips. "But I'll take it."

You kissed him deeper, moaning into the kiss, his tongue tangling with yours in a heated dance. He could feel your warmth through his pants, and it only made him harder.

With one swift move, he lifted you onto the kitchen counter, pinning you under his strong arms. He lifted you like you weighed absolutely nothing.

"Mhm, John needs you," you whined. You could not hold your composure anymore; you felt lust for him - primal lust for him—like nature wanted it to be; you were animalistic.

"You have me," John said, his voice rough with passion. "Always." His hands moved deftly to slip off your shirt.

Now you sat there on the counter only wearing a bra and some short skirt with spread legs so he could always reach your begging mound. You thought about how any of the boys could walk in at any second, and it only fueled your desire. In the deepest twisted place in your mind, you thought about them taking you at the same time. You blamed it on ovulation week or not being fucked for years straight.

And even though of the sex you had before was frustrating, your ex just couldn't get you off, rubbing on your poor clit like it was a lottery scratcher. How many orgasms you faked, and you asked yourself if you needed to fake one with them too? This would be disappointing.

Price took a moment to admire the view before him, his eyes roaming over your exposed skin. He reached up and undid your bra with practiced ease, letting it fall away to reveal your perfect breasts. His mouth watered at the sight of them. "You're so fucking beautiful." Price smiled as he leaned in, his lips brushing against one of your hardened nipples. "I could spend all night just worshipping these," he whispered before taking one into his mouth and sucking gently.

"Then do it," you whined, wanting him to suck your nipples.

"With pleasure," John replied. He continued to lavish attention on your perfect breasts, his hands teasing and pinching the nipples while his mouth moved from one to the other, lapping at them with hungry kisses. You could barely take it longer. Your eyes darkened from hunger.

You slipped off his shirt as he continued to suck on your hard nipples.

You oggled over his muscular frame; he wasn't the lean muscle type; he had thick, delicious muscles with hair on top of them; he was the pure definition of masculinity; your primal needs chipped in when you saw him, thinking of how you resembled the perfect pair.

He groaned as he felt your hands on his skin, his muscles tightening at the touch. He pulled away from your breasts for a moment, looking down at you with a predatory smirk. "You like what you see?" he asked, his voice low and gravelly.

"I love what I see."

"Good," he replied. He reached down and pulled your panties off, tossing them aside before leaning in to lick a path up your stomach towards your breasts again. You freeze because of your exposed sex; your wetness has already flowed down your thighs.

"I'm going to make sure you scream for me."

"Pretty sure of your skills?" The bratines never left your body; you were lucky that John was a soft dom, and you would regret your bratines sooner or later on Simon's Day.

"You have no idea," John growled, his voice thick with desire. He took your hardened nipple into his mouth once again, sucking and biting gently before moving on to the other one.

"John, I need your mouth somewhere else." You slowly grew impatient, your hole almost begging and crying to finally be stuffed.

"Oh? And where would you like that?" he asked, his voice still rough with lust. He continued to tease your nipples, flicking his tongue over them as he waited for your answer.

"You know where," you whined, hoping he wouldn't let you say it. For fucks sake, you were a medical professional, but you couldn't say that you wanted him on your vagina, stuffing you so badly that it reached your cervix.

Price smirked knowingly. "I've got a few ideas," he replied, his hands sliding down your body. Before he picked you up and laid you down on the kitchen table.

"A fine meal needs to be eaten on the dinner table." You blushed at this sentence.

He looked up at you, his eyes burning with desire, as he took in the sight of your exposed, dripping cunt. "You're so wet for me," he whispered before lowering his head and pushing his tongue into your pussy.

You screamed loudly at the sudden friction grabbing his hair.

John moaned at the taste of you, his tongue lapping up your juices eagerly. He used his hands to spread your legs wider, giving him better access to your most sensitive spots.

"That's it," he growled. "Let me hear you scream."

"John," your moan filled the whole house, and you just hoped you didn't wake Johnny up. Poor boy needs his sleep.

"Fuck, yes," Price panted between licks and thrusts of his tongue. He reached up to grab one of your legs, pulling it over his shoulder as he continued to eat you out.

"mhm feels so good." You moaned, your eyes closed.

"John hummed in response, his tongue swirling around your clit. He reached up to squeeze one of your breasts, eliciting a moan from you. "You feel so fucking good," he murmured, loving the way you were responding to him.

He pushed two fingers into your tight hole, fucking them in and out while he continued to eat you out.

"Don't stop," you begged and felt a bit pathetic. You let an unknown man eat you out, which wasn't the worst part. You let seven fucking men breed you.

"I won't stop," he promised, his voice low and rough with desire.

You shook completely under him, screaming in pleasure. He moaned at the sounds you were making, his arousal growing as he felt your body tense and quiver under him.

He picked up the pace, his fingers thrusting deeper and faster, while his tongue worked overtime on your clit.

"I'm going to---- fuck." you screamed.

He felt your walls clench around his fingers, signaling your impending orgasm. "Cum for me," he growled, sucking even harder on your clitoral area, leaving a small bite on your clit.

And for the first time in your life, a man was competent enough to let you reach an orgasm, and it felt better than everything you felt in your life before you saw stars shaking like you had an exorcism, and so you came squirting all over His tongue. He groaned in delight, his tongue thrusting deep into your pussy to catch every drop of your sweet nectar.

He continued to lap at you, savoring the taste of you as he held your hips down firmly, not allowing you to take away his meal. You thought they looked starved when they ate your food for the first time, but this was a completely new level of starving.

"Fuck," you were a bit embarrassed as you saw the wet puddle on the table and his beard completely drenched." I never squirted before. I'm so sorry," you apologized, your cheeks burning red.

He chuckled, raising his head to look at you. "There's nothing to be sorry about," he assured, his voice filled with warmth and understanding. "I've never had a woman squirt before, either."

"Was it bad?"

He smirked. "Oh, I'd say it was fucking incredible." He pulled his fingers out of your puffy hole slowly, licking them clean before leaning in to capture your mouth in a deep, passionate kiss. You could taste your cum on his tongue, and it was so messy and hot at the same time.

"Do you want me to suck you off, or do we go straight to the fucking part?" You asked, wanting to make him feel good too.

He stepped between your spread legs, his erection jutting out proudly. He looked down at you with a predatory grin, his hand reaching out to cup one of your breasts. "As much as I love to see you on your knees for me, we can't waste an ounce of cum, sweetheart."

"Can you go in slow? I didn't have someone inside in years," you asked, afraid, especially not someone so thick. His dick was perfect, comfortable, 7,5 inches curved to the right and fucking thick, and he had a vein that probably would press against your G-spot perfectly, and fucking beautiful dark curls between his legs, making him seem only more masculine than he already was.

He nodded and positioned himself at your begging entrance, teasing you with only the tip of his cock before slowly pushing inside. "You're so fucking tight," he groaned, savoring the feeling of your warmth enveloping him.

"God, you're the biggest I ever had." He almost pulled you apart; it burned to take him inside, and without proper preparation, you sure as hell wouldn't be able to take him.

John chuckled at your words, pleased with the compliment. "You'll have to tell me how it feels when I'm balls deep inside you," he murmured, thrusting deeper into your shaking body.

Feeling you start to relax and take him deeper, Price began to move faster, his hips grinding against yours in a sensual rhythm. "Fuck, I love how you take my cock," he growled out between gritted teeth.

"Oh God"

"John is enough; no need to call me God Sweetheart." He picked up the pace even more, slamming into you with primal force. His free hand moved to grip your breast roughly, pinching and rolling your nipple between his fingers. "You like that? You want more?" he asked breathlessly.

"I want your cum, John," you whined.

Hearing those words sent a surge of lust through his body. He pulled almost all the way out before slamming back into you, hitting your sweet spot perfectly. "Gonna cum all over your pretty little pussy, going to make you so full of my cum."

"Yes, John," you whine.

"Going to make you all round, going to fucking breed you."

You whined and moaned; the primal need to let him fill you up and mark you as his own filled you. You needed this, and not only for selfless reasons; you enjoyed it as much as he did it.

"You're going to beg me for my cock after this." He pounded into you harder, his dick twitching with anticipation. "Feel that? Feel how much I love fucking you?"

"Yes, feels so good." You whined, "Breed me, John." You didn't know what took over you, but you didn't care. Shame is for post-nut clarity.

Hearing your whine only made him more turned on. He slammed into you again and again, each stroke deeper than the last. "That's it, baby. Take it all. I'm going to fill you up so fucking good." John leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear. "I'm going to make you a mommy," he growled out before slapping his massive cock against your g-spot once more.

He could feel his impending release as he continued to thrust into you; he never had something perfect like you—such a good woman between his filthy, not-worthy hands. His fingers dug into your hips, holding you tightly as he pushed deeper into you than ever before. You felt him hitting your cervix.

"That's it, baby. Take my cum. Let me empty myself inside you."

"Yes, please, Daddy, cum in me."

Price groaned loudly as he felt himself erupting inside you. His hips bucked wildly, driving his cock even deeper as hot, thick cum filled your wanting womb. He held nothing back, emptying himself into her before finally pulling out with a wet pop. "There you go, baby. That's what a real man does to his woman."

"And I'm your woman?" You asked completely out of your mind, probably about hormones.

John smirked, pulling you into his arms. "You sure as hell are." He kissed you passionately.

"Now we need to make you a mommy."

"Well, you already came to me," you giggled.

He rolled his eyes. "I've got plenty more where that came from, sweetheart." He traced his finger down your stomach. "Now let's see about making you a baby; besides, I don't want any of these muppets making you pregnant before me." You didn't strike him as the jealous type since he shared you with seven men, but maybe it was the thing about being the first that fueled him.

"You have the stamina for a second round? Price grinned, giving you a wink.

"With you? Hell yeah." He pulled you close and kissed you again, starting to nibble on your ear. "And this time, I'll make sure I hit the back of that sweet cunt of yours." He carried you to the bed and laid you down.

The bed dipped at his weight, his hard cock still rock-hard against his stomach. He positioned himself between your legs and looked into your eyes. "Ready for round two, baby?"

"Yes, Daddy." You knew how crazy it made him when you called him this.

Price leaned down and captured your lips in a passionate kiss, his tongue tangling with yours as he thrust his hips upward. He groaned into the kiss, feeling the head of his cock push against your entrance once more. "God damn, you feel good."

You put your legs on his shoulders. He imideatly kissed your ankles and hit you deeper with every thrust. He couldn't help but moan in pleasure. He looked into your eyes as he began to move his hips back and forth, slamming into you with each powerful stroke. "Fuck, you're so tight."

You clenched around him, and it only fueled his primal instincts. "That's right, baby. Let's make you a mommy." His fingers dug into your hips, pulling her closer as he continued to pound into you.

"Mhm, going to cum soon, John," he grinned as he heard your moan.

"That's it, baby. Let it out." He felt your cunt clench around him as you shook from the orgasm he had just given you.

"Thank you, Daddy."

"You're welcome, Dove. Now let's see if we can get you pregnant." With that, he pulled out of your pussy and rolled over onto his back, beckoning you to straddle him once more. "Ride me until you're ready for another."

You let your hips fall on his thick cock, whining as he spread you in half, and so you began to ride him, your boobs jumping up and down.

He moaned at the sight of your ass bouncing against his full balls as you rode him hard. He grabbed your hips tightly, helping you to move faster and harder on his shaft. "That's it, baby. Ride me until you can't take it anymore."

He reached up, grabbed one of your perky breasts, and began to play with your nipple while you rode him. "Do you want me to crawl inside you again, baby?"

"Yes, Daddy," you nodded and clenched around him just at the thought.

Price loved the way you answered. "Then keep riding me, dove." He pulled on your nipple gently, watching as you let out a small cry of pleasure. He continued to play with your breast while he watched your ass bounce up and down on his cock.

"That's it, baby. Show Daddy how much you love his cock."

"I love it so much, Daddy."

He groaned as he felt your pussy clench around his cock. "Oh, fuck yes. You feel so good." He continued to play with your breast while he started to circle your clit while you rode him.

John's voice dropped to a whisper as he spoke his darkest desires into your ear. "I want to fuck you in every hole, dove. I want to mark you as mine and give you all the babies you want."

He continued to rub your clit in small circles as you rode him harder. Price could feel his orgasm building quickly. That's it, baby. Give Daddy what he wants." He reached up and pinched your nipple hard, watching as you let out a sharp cry of pleasure.

"I want you to cum for me, baby. I want to watch you squirt all over my cock."

"Mhm, fuck," you moaned. You couldn't take it any longer.

He continues His work on your abused clit Till you clench around him and squirt all over His dick.

John groaned as he felt your pussy clench around his cock and squirt all over him. "Fuck, yes. That's it, dove." He continued to rub your clit even after you came, wanting to draw out every last drop of pleasure from your body.

"Too much, Daddy," you whined as he overstimulated you.

Price chuckled softly at your whines, his fingers still working on your clit. "Sorry, dove. Did I go too far?" He asked teasingly, knowing full well that he hadn't. Instead, he loved pushing your limits and seeing just how much you could take.

"That's it, dove. Give Daddy all of it." He whispered in your ear before pulling out of your wet pussy and slapping his hard cock against your slick mound once more. "Daddy going to fill you up now, and you're going to take everything, understood?"

You were too fucked out to talk; you just nodded.

He fucked with a mean pace into you, his balls slapping against your ass, leaving his mark, but that wasn't enough; he needed to mark your breasts too, to show everyone he was the first to have you - the first to hopefuly impregnate you. You were his, and he was only a good captain for sharing his priceless angel. A pure act of selflessness from him.

With a final thrust, he erupted himself inside you. Hot, strips of his sticky cum painted your inner walls white. "Take it, sweetheart, let me fill you up." He pushed his cum in your hole all over again and then removed his dick out of your red, swollen cunt. He held your legs up. "I don't want my cum to flow out of you before the job is done."

You thought he would leave after the act, but he didn't, so his affection was real. He cleaned you up with a towel, massaging your sore thighs and almost forcing you to drink enough water since you squirted so much. "Did it feel so good for me, Sweetheart? I never had such a perfect woman before," he whispered against your skin. " Gonna worship you and give you everything you need, okay?"

You nodded and cuddled against his fury body, easily falling asleep after this activity.

#cod #cod mw2 #cod mwii #cod x reader #call of duty #tf 141 #smut #tf 141 x reader #tf141 smut #john price #captain john price #john price x reader #john price x you #breeding k1nk #zombie #ghost fanfiction #simon ghost riley #john mactavish x reader #kyle gaz x reader

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johnwickb1tsch · 3 months

Text

bittersweet ~ a yandere!John Wick x fem!reader sunshine/grump coffee shop AU... Part 8 all chapters

-Your birthday falls on a beautiful spring day, and of course, you have to work. When a new customer growls into the parking lot on a shiny black motorcycle everyone crowds behind the counter to see who it could be.

It takes so little to entertain all of you, sometimes.

The boys titter excitedly about the sweet bike and torque and ccs, whatever that means.

When the rider takes off his helmet there’s a fall of fabulous dark hair, and something inside you utterly purrs at the sight.

It’s Mr. Wick.

Maybe you should have known. His padded motorcycle jacket makes his shoulders seem impossibly broad, and as he crosses the parking lot on long legs you hear Cassie sigh behind you.

Same, girl, same.

Cassie had made you a little birthday crown to wear out of a to go cup, a la Princess Peach. You forget about the silly adornment clipped to your head, until Mr. Wick approaches the counter to make his order.

“One coffee…your Highness?” He lifts one of those dark brows with a small smirk, and fuck if it doesn't make you blush.

“It's my birthday,” you sheepishly tell him. His expression actually softens.

“Happy Birthday, then.”

“Thanks.”

“Not fair you have to work today.”

You shrug. “No rest for the wicked.”

This makes him smile a little wider, and you feel that’s a good present for today.

“Hopefully you have something fun planned for later?”

Is he fishing, or just making conversation? You can never tell with this man.

“Not really,” you admit with a shrug.

Your parents are divorced and remarried, living far away from you in their new lives, with their new families. You know they’ll call you later, when they remember you. You’ll have an awkward little conversation that will only serve to grind up your heart into smaller pieces, rather than lift your spirits like its meant to.

Your friends are busy too. One, with her new baby who never has time for you anymore, and you totally understand (and endorse) her priorities, even if it still hurts. The other’s work schedule is exactly the opposite of yours, and you never manage to hang out anymore.

Maybe you’ll go to the thrift store after you get off work, or treat yourself to an ice cream. Nothing too extravagant. You’re saving every penny you can for your upcoming trip.

“Well, maybe something will come up.”

It’s a nice thought.

You make him his usual coffee order, and don’t think much about it the rest of the day. This warm spring day has everyone out and about, stir crazy after the thaw, and you were running full speed from open to the end of your shift. For some incongruous reason, people were extra rude too, and as the clock strikes 2 you are at the end of your rope, your smile more closely resembling a baring of teeth.

Your whole body hurts, and you think you are too exhausted to do anything fun for yourself, until you go to your car in the lot behind the brick building to find Mr. Wick—and his motorcycle—parked next to your old Rav4. He looks utterly scrumptious, if you’re being honest, those legs going on forever as he leans against the seat of his bike. His hair is waving down around his face as he browses something on his phone to pass the time.

Good on you, for only pausing for a moment to ogle him.

“Hi.”

“Hey.”

You look between him and the bike with your lip between your teeth, wondering what he’s doing, your treacherous heart fluttering in your chest.

“I thought…it might be fun to go for a ride? If you want.”

You cannot suppress a wide smile, touched to the marrow that he thought of you on your special day. “That does sound like fun,” you admit, and not just because the thought of sitting behind him on a bike makes you a little weak in the knees. The sunshine that day truly feels like a gift from the gods after such a harsh winter. “But…”

He tilts his head inquisitively.

“Don’t you have better things to do?”

He shakes his head, a lock of his dark hair falling over his eyes, and your fingers physically ache to brush it away. “There’s nothing I’d rather do,” he assures you, and damn if that isn’t enough to convince you.

“Full disclosure: I’ve never actually been on a bike before?”

His smile is nothing less than gentle, and he could have pushed you over with a feather.

“All you have to do is hold on to me,” he assures you, and you think you lose your mind a little at that.

There is slightly more to it, he instructs you as you put on a helmet and he helps you clamber on behind him. He tells you to lean slightly with him into the turns, but not too much. The bike grumbles like a fire-breathing beast beneath you as he starts it up.

The feeling of his slim hips and taut backside between your thighs crosses some wires in your brain.

He takes you to the winding backroads of the countryside and up the mountain. You feel like you’re flying, snaking through the curves on this powerful machine, with a man you find you trust implicitly at the controls.

You laugh out loud more than once.

At a straightaway he asks through the helmet mic, “Want to see what she can do?”

“Sure,” you answer, even though you can’t imagine what more this beautiful bike could offer.

“Lean into me, and hold on.” You obey, looping arms around his trim waist, plastered to his backside as he hunkers down for aerodynamics. You were already going fast, but when he shifts a gear you take off like a shot.

A sane person would have screamed, but all you can do is laugh.

This is the purest joy you’ve felt in longer than you can remember.

John pulls over at a scenic overlook, parking the bike so you can have a little break. You sit together on a picnic table, looking over the valley below. A stream snakes through it like a silver ribbon, shimmering in the sunlight. You sigh and lean back on your arms, lifting your face to the sun.

This has turned out to be a perfect day. John smiles a little as he looks over at you, but says nothing, just lets you soak it in.

“Thank you for this,” you finally say. “I was having such a shitty day.”

“You’re welcome.”

You sit up and rub at your neck. You have an unrelenting ache in the muscle over your left shoulder blade. It never really goes away, but its definitely worse after a long day on your feet bending over coffee.

John looks worried, bless him. “Did I hurt you?”

“Not at all. I just…have this thing. I think there’s a demon living in my shoulder.”

After a pensive moment he lifts his hands in offering, moving very slowly as though he might spook you. His hands are…beautiful. Large, long fingered, calloused too. You wonder what he does, when he’s not sitting in the coffee shop or binding books. The thought of them on your body gives you a forbidden little thrill.

You do not even consider the missing digit, until he looks at his left hand and frowns, closing it to hide it at his side. “Sorry. I still forget…”

But you take his hand in yours, inspecting it closely for the first time. He allows it, though there is something vulnerable in his eyes as you do. The healed skin almost looks jagged, like it wasn’t severed with a clean cut or a surgical blade. You feel the urge to press your lips to it, as though you could kiss it better, but you just rub your thumb over the fine dark hairs there.

“What happened?”

“Someone…” He cuts himself off with a frustrated sound. “I had an accident.”

You sense there’s much more to the story, but you don’t press him yet.

“Does it still hurt?”

“Sometimes, I get the phantom aches. Mostly it’s fine though.”

You nod and angle your back to him, placing his hand on your shoulder as you shoot him a pointed look, granting him permission to touch you. His sigh is almost imperceptible, but you sit up a little straighter as he squeezes your shoulder lightly. You get the slightest taste of the strength in those hands, yet you know he could rip you to pieces if he chose to.

He slays you in a different way, knowing exactly how to use them on your sore muscles, and you can’t help but moan as he squeezes the kinks out of your shoulders. For a second he freezes at the sound, before continuing to work his magic.

“God…that feels so good.” You’ve been in pain for so long that it’s damn near better than sex.

Maybe it’s been too long for that too, though.

“You are a mess.” You know him well enough now to know he’s frowning as he says this. He kills a knot with the well-placed blade of his thumb. You feel it release and you jump a little. Though it doesn’t really hurt you, you’re not sure why there is suddenly moisture in your eyes.

It’s been a long time since anyone’s taken care of you like this, you suppose.

“Job hazard,” you sigh.

“Do you ever do yoga?”

You laugh a little at that for some reason. “I used to practice, when I was younger.” It kind of fell by the wayside. You’re always so tired when you get home.

“Well, stretching is good for you, as you age. Take it from an old man. It helps.”

“You’re not old,” you immediately protest.

“Nice to know I still have some curb appeal.” His words are laden with sarcasm, and yet you can tell he is pleased.

He finishes the massage with a lighter touch, to stimulate blood flow, that gives you delicious chills all over. Your shoulders are your kryptonite, and you are putty in his hands. You look back at him from beneath your lashes, curious what exactly it is the two of you are doing here. Does he like you, or is he just being impossibly nice?

He doesn’t avoid your gaze, but you find you can’t read him, not one bit.

“Want to get something to eat?” he asks.

It is almost dinner time. “Okay.”

You’re a little sad as you ride back down the mountain towards town. But he pulls up to the local diner, and you have sinfully greasy cheeseburgers and shakes. Despite your protests he pays, because: “No one should have to pay for their birthday dinner.”

You know he’s fucking loaded, so you let him have his way.

“This is the best birthday I’ve had in a long time,” you admit, munching on a fry. “Thank you, Mr. Wick.”

You know he’s told you to call him John before, but fuck if you haven’t noticed how his eyes darken just a little when you call him Mr. Wick, or even just Sir at the coffeeshop. You feel like you stumbled onto something you don’t entirely understand, but it fills you with a forbidden warmth all the same.

He gives you a hooded look from across the table, and you fancy he knows that you know what you’re doing.

“My pleasure, y/n.”

He doesn’t insist that you call him John again.

#john wick #john wick x you #john wick x reader #john wick x y/n #keanu reeves #john wick fic #keanu reeves x reader #yandere john wick #bittersweet john wick imagine #i miss my bike lol

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pricesbeltbuckle · 4 months

Note

Hello hello perhaps!!!

141 gang (or whoever you’d like) with a gender neutral reader who owns a motorcycle.

And not only that, but they are low key a pretty cool and pretty silly motorcycle rider. Who wears their helmet all the time like it’s their face

🏍️ 💨💨

Like if you’ve seen little videos like these https://www.instagram.com/reel/CytvzeMvcH9/?igsh=MzRlODBiNWFlZA==

https://www.instagram.com/reel/CvKx0u5pSme/?igsh=MzRlODBiNWFlZA==

https://www.instagram.com/reel/CuePZmJuw6p/?igsh=MzRlODBiNWFlZA==

And let me say, they are just this silly and outrageously confident cause their helmet grants them this anonymity to keep their identity a secret. And tucking away their social anxiety cause NOBODy knows who’s under there 😌😌😌

Motorcycles - 141

pairing: 141 x fem! reader SFW

warnings: none, just pure fluff

John 'Soap' MacTavish:

When he first met you, you were wearing a bunny helmet and doing wheelies on the highway and at the next red light he stopped with you and got your instagram.

Definitely notices how you don’t ever show your face at ALL under any circumstances which makes him more intrigued with you

He messaged you as soon as he got home and scheduled for you guys to go riding the next night and he got your # and address (Score for him:p)

He notices that even when you’ve known him for at least 4 months you never showed him your face and maybe it's because of the stunts you do publicly.

Like that one time you fell off your bike while stopped and he had to help you off the ground

Or the time you started singing extremely loudly with people in there cars

But he loves that you’re not afraid to be yourself, at least with your helmet on

And then finally one day while he went to come pick you up he asked to see your face, after 20 minutes you finally caved and took off your helmet for him

Jaw. DROPPED.

He always knew you were pretty but when he saw you for real, he could have sworn he fell in love right there.

“Wow-I mean uhm wow-I mean uhm shit.” He was struggling to find words about how pretty you were but just know after a month or two he asked you out and now he can compliment you all the time.

Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick:

Now He met you when you went to a car show and showed up on your very cute pink motorcycle that complimented your pink helmet. He came over to you and he made small talk with you until he got your number

When he went home he noticed you actually texted him first, he IMMEDIATELY replied.

“Hey! It’s ____ from the car meet <3 just felt like texting you!! It was really nice meeting you tonight.”

“Hey, it was nice meeting you as well. We should definitely go riding sometime.”

“Oh definitely just let me know a time and place!!:)”

Kyle wouldn’t show it directly of course but he was so excited. As soon as he told you to meet him at a local parking lot he was so excited to see you pull up

When you pulled up in front of him he took off his helmet expecting you to do the same but when you didn’t he looked at you confused as you tilted your head

“You don’t take your helmet off huh?” He said softly to you and you just nodded your head as he put on his helmet and invited you to follow him as you rode all night

Eventually the night came to an end and he drove back with you to your place as you parked your bike you said something you’d probably later regret.

“Wanna stay the night..? Youdonthavetoifyoudontwann-" “Alright Alright calm down love of course I wanna spend the night.”

And that’s exactly when he saw your beautiful face.

He looked at you for 10 minutes not saying a word as he admired you

And to this day while you're laying on his chest 4 months later, he still thinks about that night.

Simon 'Ghost" Riley:

Now the way you two met was at a bar, when he pulled up not on a bike, but a car instead.

He hit on you so fast he got your number in 5 minutes tops.

Now in my mind I think after about 2-6 months you guys became official and he started just spending every night at your house no matter if you went out or not on your bike

But what he didn’t tell you is that he KNEW how to drive a motorcycle matter a fact he had one for about 6 years before selling it

He always tells you he worries about your safety on your bike but you reassure him you’ll be fine but one particular night you said something you’d later find out to be false

“You’ve never even driven a motorcycle, what do you know silly?”

“Oh? Is that what you think lovie?”

And then he opened the door to the garage and hopped on your bike as he started it and looked at you as he put on one of your spare black helmets

“You just gonna sit there n stare or ya gonna hop on?”

You then quickly hopped on the back wrapping your arms around his broad body

He then backed out of the driveway and sped down many many roads.

“OH MY GOD SIMON JESUS CHRIST-SLOW DOWN!!!”

“JUST HANG ON WE’LL BE FINE.”

And then he brought you to an abandoned little parking garage as he parked the bike all the way at the top for a nice view

“I had a bike for…I wanna say 6 years. I know how to drive a bike lovie s’not that hard.”

You were absolutely shell shocked

“You never told me!! Why?”

“Wasn’t important to me.”

And then from there on out you were his backpack most nights.

'Captain' John Price:

Now you and price have known each other for about 6 months he’s seen your face and he like ghost spends most nights at your house

Only difference is he knows how to ride a bike and told you prior to him driving you on your bike

He has a truck but had a bike for about 8 years prior to his truck

He ended up buying another bike just so he could ride with you on some nights.

He loved watching you do your little silly activities like wheelies and when you stopped at red lights and little kids would admire your bike and you would fist bump them his heart would melt

Now because he's a male biker I like to believe he’s had his fair share of girls hitting on them

Usually they back off when you pull up next to him

But sometimes they don’t get the message so if they don’t he’ll say something

“Already married.” “I’ve got a wife.” “That's my wife next to me.”

And the best part is you’re not married he just likes to call you his wife because it makes you all giddy.

Now when you do backpack him he tries to go slow for you but if you tell him to speed up he will

He lets you basically control the speed and he loves when you’re his backpack regardless of the speed.

THIS TOOK SO LONG BUT SO WORTH IT AHHHHH!! I loved writing this :p.

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the-californicationist · 4 months

Text

The Rush

MDNI/18+

You drag your tight-laced bodyguard, John Price, out to the club. He gets a bit of a contact high from your molly, and lets you ride his thigh to the rhythm.

TW: drug use, thigh riding, come on clothing

+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+

Troye Sivan’s “Rush” was playing in the background, the heavy bass thumping through the hollow of your chest, and you were just beginning to feel the effects of the little blue pill you took in the car. The lights of the club were chaotic, brilliantly so, and you let the music guide you. But, you were lonely.

Your bodyguard was sulking off to the side, dressed like a cop even in casual wear, gripping his gun like it was going to fly away. You loved to bother this man. It didn’t hurt that he was fine as hell, built like a bull, and some type of ex-special forces bloke. It was those eyes, though. Something about the way he looked at you, like you were the only person in the world.

You sauntered over to him, teasing him for the nth time tonight.

“Hey, John,” you rubbed yourself on him like a cat, “You having fun yet, big boy?”

He smiled with a little huff, scanning the room,

“No, ma’am. Workin’. Fun is for when I get off the clock.”

“I can get you off…” you had finally done enough to earn a long, hard stare, “Maybe not the clock, but…”

You smiled slyly and ran your hands up his shirt, feeling the hair and sweat sticking to his skin. His belly jumped under your hand, giving him away. He didn’t stop you, though, so you kept playing with him, letting his body keep you warm as you sweated out your drugs.

You were high as a kite, and all of his texture was making you hyper focused, stimulating yourself with the crease of his muscles, the scent of his cologne.

“Don’t you think it’s time we called it a night, ma’am?”

He tried to look at the crowd again, but your writhing form and your exploring hands were a little too distracting. You turned away from him, planting your plump arse against his crotch, grinding against him, hoping to feel his cock.

You reached up and looped your hands around his shoulders, digging into the meat of him, finding his bones,

“No, sir, I don’t. I think you should dance with me.”

You must’ve been higher than you thought. As the room pulsed around you, beating at you like a heart, you could have sworn you heard him moan. You whined your hips, trying to make him hard. Then, you went from feeling soft, loose fabric to something else entirely.

Surely…

You rolled around his hip again, just to be certain.

Surely, that monster was his gun and not his dick?

It was your turn to moan, and you did it with abandon. No one could hear you anyway, and the whole club was focused on their own experiences, not on you and your fucking obvious narc.

“Is that you, baby? My God, you are a big boy, aren’t you?”

He didn’t say anything, but he did place a hand on your hip, holding you noncommittally. It was too soft to be a push, but it was firm enough for you to feel his warm hand through the silk of your mini dress.

You grabbed it and brought it up the front of your body, bringing his palm to your breast, letting him feel the tight hardness of your nipple and the unbelievable softness of your flesh.

You heard it again. John had moaned into your ear, you were sure of it. As if to confirm your suspicions, he gave you the most delicate squeeze, and then released you.

You turned back around to find a very different man looking down at you. His eyes were blown, and he was breathing heavily through his nose.

“Don’t you wanna dance with me?” You begged.

Grabbing his fingers in your small hand, you brought them not to your breast but lower this time, under the short hem of your dress. You were still grinding against each other to the relentless beat, and it wasn’t until you tucked his hand all the way down between your legs that you watched his rhythm falter.

His fingers collided with your wet folds, slipping into them easily, and he reached deeper on his own accord, exploring your hole and all of the warm, soaking things it was promising him.

You cried out, planting a kiss to his collarbone, letting him finger fuck you as you grinded into each other, stirring up an intense flood of emotions and feelings, making your high feel like it would carry you to the ends of the earth together.

It was intoxicating to watch him untie himself from the ropes of his duties, and you could feel him humping into you on purpose, now, thrusting over the curve of your belly with his enormous length as he fingered you in the crowded club. The blue and green lights that lasered across his eyes made him look like a demon, snarling and hungry for you and everything you kept secret.

“How about you dance right here?” Price purred.

He took his hand from you and tasted you. Price licked you from his fingers, just like he was flipping the page of a book. Then, he raised up his knee and shoved it, hard, between your legs, giving you something wide and solid to grind on. Instinctively, your hands wrapped around his thigh, or tried to anyway, holding yourself steady.

Your fingertips brushed against the sensitive head of his cock, long enough to have reached your grip, and you gasped. Straddling him was a whole new experience, and your drug-soaked mind was reeling from it. It overwhelmed you, and as you used one hand to palm his cock on the outside of his jeans, you used your other to help rock your hips back and forth across the denim, reveling in the texture.

His head fell back when you touched him with your hand, and you smiled, praising him,

“You feel so damn huge.”

John’s eyes focused back on you in a flash, and you moved together, surging when the beat rose, and collapsing together when it fell, the two of you caught in its current.

He wrapped his huge hands around your waist and held you down on him firmly, keeping your pace for you.

His smile turned sinister as he commanded you,

“Let go. Let me.”

You did as he bade, wrapping the hand that had been steadying you around his hulking shoulder instead. His grip was painfully tight around your body, and his fingertips dug cruelly into your arse cheeks, pressing your wet pussy down into his muscle and bone.

He forced you back and forth along his thigh, picking up speed to match the drum and bass. You felt him stoke and blow at the fire within your core, and you looked up to him with a face you knew was full of your hungry lust.

“Is that what you needed, hm?”

“I need this thick cock, John.”

“Come for me, and I’ll give it to you, darlin’,” he promised darkly, leaning down to growl his words right into your ear.

You sent back a long moan into his, letting him drive your hips and rub your clit against him. You felt the wetness of the denim beneath you, and you knew you were soaking a spot into his pants.

“I’m getting you all wet,” you whined into his neck, licking along his throat just as he was kissing yours, sucking on your sensitive skin.

“Doesn’t matter,” he grunted, ruthless in his pace, “I’ve got you.”

The lights and sounds and colors and smell of him all invaded your mind. It was too much, and it was not enough. Everything was swirling together and you were floating through it, letting it carry you along like a stray leaf down a stream, buoyant and vulnerable.

But, John was there. He anchored you to him, letting your high run you wild while he kept you safe, locked in his hands. The molly was making you emotional, and when you started to come, you weren’t sure if it was from his physical efforts or from his delicate care.

You held onto his cock like a lifeline, stroking him steadily for comfort. It felt so good to press into his swollen head with your palm. He was so warm, like a glowing torch beneath your fingers. You wanted to see it.

You lost the pacing, but he kept it for you, grunting with every push and pull of your body, sounding as if he was coming with you as you tumbled over your peak, whimpering and mewling for him, pliant as a petal in his hands.

“John, please… oh, fuck!”

“I know, baby, I know. I know. I know…” He chanted to you. His voice invaded your mind and the club fell away. It was just you and John in the blackness of your mind.

Under your hand, you felt his cock jump at you, leaping toward you out of the thick cloth that trapped it to his body. Then, you felt a wetness soaking through at his tip, and you rubbed it faster, encouraging him, hoping he would come with you. The wet spot grew, spanning out in a small puddle, staining the fabric darkly.

His teeth were on you then, holding you at your throat, not biting, but not letting go. His cries were a symphony of sound, and they made your entire nervous system light up. You felt incredible as you listened to him coming, ruining his jeans as you ruined them as well, making him look like he’d spilled a drink all over himself in very conspicuous spots.

As he came down, he was laughing, softly, chuckling from sheer disbelief. You’d wrung him out like a cloth, and the ragged sigh that came from his throat told you so.

He helped you off of his knee, careful not to hurt you. He fixed the edge of your dress so that it fell where it meant to, and then he looked down to survey the damage.

You didn’t like the sobering look on his face, and you’d do anything to keep him in your thrall. So, you grabbed his hand and led him out back to where your limo was parked. Pushing through the mass of writhing bodies just made you want to be closer to him.

You asked the driver to take you home, straddling John’s lap on the seat, eager for round two. You heard the privacy screen roll up and you smiled. You found your purse and pulled out your last two pills, sticking both of them in your mouth. Then, you leaned down to kiss him, feeding him one.

He swallowed it, to your surprise.

“I thought you’d protest about being on the clock, baby…” you started to unbutton his shirt, playing with his nipples when you found them, rubbing your fingers through his thick hair.

He kissed you again, a little more chastely this time, and peeked down at his watch,

“It’s 0300, ma’am. I’m a free man.”

“Turn the music up, then,” you said, kissing his neck as he used the remote to turn up the volume, letting your shared high carry you all the way home.

+=+=+=+=+=+=+

Okay, listen. Just hear me out for a second, okay. Okay, look… lol 😂 I have been listening to Troye Sivan’s “Rush” all freaking season and every time I listen to it, all I can imagine is gruff, huffy, serious John Price on the dance floor with you as you slowly convince him to let loose and dance-fuck you. I will not be explaining myself further!!! It is burned into my mind. 😂 I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Please. Sorry!!!

#call of duty fanfic #cod mw2 #cod mwii #captain john price #cod #captain price #john price #captain price x reader #captain price x you #alternate universe #bodyguard #tw drugs

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