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charliemwrites · 4 months

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Woof woof… whimper

(Part 10… but technically a continuation of part 9)

Same warnings as last time for dub con and general Johnny nastiness.

It takes your cock-addled brain a second too long to process what Soap’s just said. What he’s implied. And by then he’s all ready for you to buck against him, confused and angry.

“That’s so — that’s not funny!” You shout.

But he’s got you pinned thoroughly, your chest flat against the mattress and your ass flush against his hips. His cock buried so deep you can feel the hot head of it bullying the deepest parts of you. All your struggling does is make you clench up tight around him, makes him feel that much bigger and meaner inside you. Makes him grunt low and ragged in your ear, all animal appreciation.

“I’m not laughin’,” he replies, nipping at your shoulder.

“G-get off of me, get out, get—”

His hand slides into your hair again, gets a firm hold at the roots and presses your face into the blankets, muffling your protests. Shushes you like soothing a panicked animal.

“Now, now,” he chides, “I still gotta prove I’m not compensating, don’t I?”

You suck in a breath, squeezing your eyes shut. There have to be a million explanations other than the absolutely ludicrous one he’s just presented to you. Cameras, microphones….

How did he know where you live?

How did he know where the spare key was?

How did he know where your bedroom was?

How did he find you at the bar?

Stalker, you tell yourself. He’s a creep, you’ve always known that.

Then where’s your dog?

“N-no,” you warble, bucking again. Nearly scream as his cock twitches inside you; only reason you don’t is because you can barely breathe as it is. He’s so deep inside that he’s practically in your lungs. “No way you’re my — there’s no way. You’re crazy. I’m gonna— ah!”

He draws out as you speak, gradual, and then plunges in again all at once, cutting you off. Grinds his hips in a dirty circle too, burying himself as deep as he can.

“Aww, poor thing,” he coos. “S’alright, baby, I knew this would happen. We jus’ gotta get all those big, scary feelings out first. Then I can explain it all nice and slow.”

You try to scream at him. Try to curse him out, tell him there’s no way in hell you’re listening to a word he says now; never mind letting him spend another second with his dick in you.

All that comes out is a high-pitched keen as he starts fucking you without further preamble. It aches, but you can’t tell in what way. If it hurts, if it’s the best you’ve ever had. Both? Your nerves feel haywire, brain dragged to lust-stupid depths.

“See, there we go,” he rasps, punctuating with a sharp snap of his hips on that last word. “My perfect little mate. Your cunt was made for my cock, made to be bred by me. Isn’t that right?”

You try to shake your head, but his grip keeps you from doing more than sending electricity down your spine, hair pulled taut.

“Yeah it fucking is,” he growls to his own question, canting your hips back further. His fingers grip cruelly into the flesh, sure to leave bruises. You wish you didn’t enjoy the sensation, wish it didn’t make you spasm around him helplessly.

“‘Bout time I owned you right back, don’t you think?” He continues, never stopping or even slowing. You yelp as he tugs your necklace again, arching your back at a steep angle. “Even collared yourself up for me. All it needs is my name.”

Something about that drives some awful, slutty part of your brain fucking wild. The idea of you with a tight leather choker — a collar — with his name (you don’t think about what name) hanging from your throat…

“Like that, don’t you?” He chuckles meanly. “Who’s my good little slut? Who’s my perfect, soaked little breeding whore?”

Tears spring to your eyes as you realize the “I am” is right there on the tip of your over-saturated tongue. If you had air, brain cells, any ability at all, you’d be crying it to the ceiling like the toy he’s treating you as.

He’s going to ruin you, you think. He’s going to fuck you broken. You’re crying and wailing on his cock, think you’d actually throw a tantrum if he pulled out and left you on the edge right now. Would, you realize in horror, beg for him to keep going.

And then he snakes his hand around your hip and starts rubbing your clit — fast, hard little circles. Just the way you like; the way you’d do it yourself. Relentlessly and cruel, even when you try to writhe away from how fast you can feel yourself getting to the edge. Almost frightened by it, how quickly he’s mastered your body’s pleasure.

Frightened by the extra stimulation at your entrance, too. A little extra friction at first — shocking because you’re leaving a puddle on the sheets. But then the friction becomes pressure, becomes… more.

“W-wha….?” You slur, hips wriggling.

Soap (Johnny?) snarls in your ear and that feeling at your entrance grows. Feels, you realize with alarm, like stretching.

“Gonnae take my knot so well,” he rambles, accent thick like syrup, trickling into your empty brain, filling you up with meaningless sounds. “Plug you up full of my cum, breed you right just like you need.”

Any questions or confusion are whisked away by the extra stimulation at your entrance. The sensitive nerves getting just as much brutal attention as your inner walls, your cervix, that sweet spot inside you that makes your eyes roll back.

It all becomes too much all at once and crashes through you, devastating. You clamp down around him tight and needy, lean all your weight back into his thighs. And he practically howls as he sinks into you and stays, grinding and humping without ever actually pulling out again. You feel a flood of heat that seems to go on for an absurdly long time, cock pulsing against your overstimulated walls, milked for every last drop.

You shudder as your brain tries and fails to process it all. Like trying to decipher a foreign language from white noise. It’s nothing but static to you.

You can feel a tongue against your shoulder, scraped of blunt teeth. Soap/Johnny licking the sweat from your skin and nipping bruises into the flesh. You make an annoyed noise that comes out whinier than intended, shoving at his face.

“Get off, you bastard.” Your voice is pathetic, thick with tears and fractured in a hundred places.

“Can’t, bonnie, even if I wanted to.”

You scowl, try to look at him over your shoulder. He takes that opportunity to nuzzle against your temple.

“What?” You ask. “What are you talking about?”

“Did ye hear me?” He chuckles. “Well, maybe not with the way you were screamin’. You’re all knotted up, baby. Can’t pull out — ‘less you want this pretty pussy to tear.”

You jolt, nearly yank yourself off out of pure fear, but Johnny keeps you still again, humming.

“Easy now,” he croons. “Still fussy? Need another to settle down?”

Useless as your brain may be, it recognizes what he means by “another one.” You think you might pass out.

“No,” you snap, petulant even to your own ears. “I want you to explain… explain everything.”

“Alright, hen. C’mere.”

He gently lays you out prone on the bed, then rolls you both on your sides. Hitches your leg up over his hip. You want to protest, but it helps the ache in your poor cunt.

“H-how are you still hard?” You pant, traitorous pussy twitching around him.

He growls in your ear, can feel him grinning against the lobe. “Will stay that way for a bit, lass. Don’ worry, you jus’ have to lay here all nice and still. Keep me warm while I explain things to you.”

And he does. How there are shapeshifters out there in the world, rare as they are. That he comes from a line of them. Recruited to military, as most of them are.

How he was on standard patrol when he smelled you for the first time.

“Like a wet dream, bonnie. Fertile. Spring. Smelled like mine.”

How he instantly knew you were his mate. That he just needed to make you see it. Never a good time to explain it all to you — and then there were interlopers and your silly little books and your pesky toys. How he tried to drop hints around the house, let you come to the correct conclusion on your own. But you never did.

“Honestly it’s a good thing I’m here, hen. You’re so oblivious. Lived with a man and never even knew it.”

That he tried to go about it the other way ‘round, as a man, but you’re just so stubborn. And then how it all led up to tonight. To you finally, finally realizing what you really needed: your mate.

You should be angry, furious. There’s a lot to say about… well, all of it. It’s horrifying and violating and… and…

And he hasn’t stopped bullying your clit since he started talking. Cruel, tight circles. Drawing the hood back with two fingers and stroke with a third, slow and languid and just soft enough to make your head spin. Rhythmless taps. Even pinches when you try to chew him out at one point, half turning to scowl. Instead have his tongue lapping sloppily at yours as your mouth gapes open soundlessly.

Makes you cum twice just like that without ever interrupting his own story, cock still hilted — knotted deep inside you. Honestly, you probably miss a good portion of it, some of the finger details for sure. But you get the broad strokes (among other strokes).

He licks at your overstimulated tears when he’s finished, nuzzling and kissing your cheek.

“I-I miss my dog,” you mumble finally, hands balled against your chest.

“Aww, darlin’,” he sighs, sounding genuinely apologetic. “We’re one and the same. I’m always your boy no matter what form I take.”

It would be more comforting if his dick didn’t throb calling himself your boy.

“‘Sides, I’m better than a normal mutt,” he continues, tugging you against his chest. You want to hate that is instantly makes you feel a little better. “Wolves mate for life, after all.”

#sorry this is a little shorter but uhhhhh i never know where to go after smut #anyway hope yall like it #cod #my writing #fanfiction #reader fic #thoughts™️#dark fic #woof woof johnny #woof woof au #wolf john soap mactavish #johnny soap mactavish

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manicpumpkindreamgirl · 6 months

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I am so back baby

I can't go back to drawing regular Johnny Cage, Jenny Cage consumes my every waking thought

#mortal kombat 1 #mk1 #mk1 fanart #mortal kombat #johnny cage #genderbend #jenny cage #johnny cage mk1 #johnny cage mk #my art #mortal kombat fanart #mk fanart #johnny cage fanart #genderbend fanart #genderbent #fem johnny cage #woof woof #gnawing at the bars of my enclosure

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atomicfoxx · 5 months

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Alright I’m not usually into super jacked dudes but like. Something about MK11 Johnny got me going absolutely F E R A L

#I want him!#pls pls pls #he’s such a DILF #woof woof #Johnny cage #johnny cage mortal kombat #mortal kombat johnny cage #mk11 #mk11 johnny cage #mortal kombat 1 #mortal kombat x #johnny cage mk #mortal kombat game #mk #mk1 #john carlton #dilf johnny cage #johnny cage x reader #johnshi

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jacqcrisis · 6 months

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I just remembered the core memory of when I was in high school and Twilight was in its heyday which pissed me VERY MUCH OFF as someone who read it when the first book came out on a rec from a friend who was so offbase with that because fuck me I hated that book at 14 and even more so when it got popular two years later-

ANYWAYS, Twilight is big and popular, and I'm in Barnes and Noble glaring at the stand with all the Twilight-like books cause I do love vampires but there's nothing for queer little ole me. 'Interview With the Vampire is my life' teen Jacq was suffering so bad. So I pop over the manga section, looking for possible shonen-ai/yaoi (which was rarely labeled as such so it was like looking for a needle in a haystack) when I stumble upon this:

Oh, I say to myself. Interesting. I flip it over to the back and read:

"Charlie, a cyborg/vampire who does the Vatican's dirty work-"

SOLD. I read no more. I don't need to read anymore, as nothing could prepare me for what I found inside.

I'm shaking as I go to the front and buy it immediately, so excited to read something that sounds so truly up my alley. I go home and consume some of the horniest, kinkiest vampire non-sex I had yet seen in my brief time on this earth between the aforementioned Charlie and the guy on the cover who is a fuck boy and the best boy mixed in with a pretty good story and romance. This series consumed me for the rest of my high school life as I was constantly on the lookout for new volumes. Even to this day, this is genuinely my favorite manga series, and it has a very cute happy ending and, as a shock to no one, informs a lot of my stupid writing trope habits.

This is a recommendation to go read Vassalord if you like vampires, cyborgs, horny blasphemy, pining, getting stabbed sexily, and one dude trying really hard not to fuck the other dude who's trying really hard to get the dude to fuck him while they fight crime and other vampires. It's great.

#vassalord #i need to reread it #god i love it #also i really REALLY hated twi light #as an adult i thinks its funny and the movie is genuinely hilarious #but as a teenager i would get so heated over it #anyways cherry and johnny my beloveds #especially johnny. woof.#i ruined the first volume by rereading it so many times

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malecelebsshirtless · 8 months

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#johnny orlando #johnnyorlando #shirtless #hot #so hot #hot as fuck #woof #bark

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favoritejohn · 1 year

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hot ceo vibes 🤌🏻

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afraid-of-detriment · 2 months

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THANKS INSTAGRAM EXPLORE PAGE IM GONNA GO FUCKING INSANE

#holyyyyy shit #i wanna know how tf this person got these pics cause i haven’t been able to find shit #they look so good i’m going feral #grrr bark bark grrr woof #johnnie guilbert #bee posts

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vknotfound · 2 days

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For you, which Keanu's characters are the sexiest?

I'M NOT ABLE TO CHOOSE ANYONE. PERSONALLY THEY ARE ALL SEXY, CHARISMATIC, CHARMING. IT'S JUST IMPOSSIBLE!!!! (Kevin Lomax, Neo, John Wick, John Constantine, Johnny Utah and Scott Favor dayuuuuum)

#keanu reeves #keanuverse #john wick #john constantine #neo anderson #constantine 2005 #the matrix #scott favor #my own private idaho #johnny utah #point break #devils advocate #my bed is calling me #grrr #bark bark woof grrr

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josephslittledeputy · 8 months

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WIP Whenever!

Been tagged in a few WIP Wednesdays that I missed, so thank you @socially-awkward-skeleton @direwombat @inafieldofdaisies @jillvalentinesday @marivenah @simplegenius042 @g0dspeeed for keeping me in the loop!

Tagging @clicheantagonist @henbased @nonfunctioning-queer @purplehairsecretlair @adelaidedrubman and anyone else who feels like it! (Or don’t, totally up to you)

First up is part one of Willa’s dark au, They Watch From The Pews

Another day gone by, another hostage saved, another person she’s helped that weren’t her people.

She'd been stuck in Fall’s End for nearly a week now, recovering from her concussion, helping out when needed, rescuing anyone who needed rescuing. Most everyone she’d rescued had made their way to Fall’s End, some even decided to form a group: The Resistance. Or at least that’s what they started calling themselves. It wasn’t very creative, but it didn’t need to be when it was getting the job done, which was to push back against the cult. So far, it’d been working relatively well and every day their numbers grew in strength. What she couldn’t stomach, though, was the fact that everyone looked to her like a de facto leader.

She was no leader.

What normally would elate someone else only made her infuriated. What right did they have to delegate such a role to her? Every day it was something new: Deputy, take out this group of peggies and rescue these hostages! Deputy, the cult stole all our gas, bring us some tanker trucks! Deputy, someone from the cult defected, you need to save them! Deputy, pick up a big rig you’ve never driven in your life because it was my dads! Never once did anyone ever ask about her needs. For days she'd been waiting for news, from anyone, and yet all they had to tell her was more shit that needed to be done! For all she knew, her people were dead already and here she was, playing a glorified errand runner for people who couldn't give two shits about her! Not unless she could do something for them first. The rage that had nestled in her chest before—a hot ember kept ignited by every slight she’d suffered—grew, and grew, until it was nearly consuming her.

Then, during one of the long, long days she’d been sitting in Fall’s End, she’d snapped.

“I don’t give a damn, Jerome! I’m goin' whether you 'er any a'yer little Resistance like it 'er not. And tell Mary May not to close my goddamn tab!”

They’d recently gotten word from the cult defector that Hudson was being kept in John’s bunker. Their only problem was that he kept the only key to the place tied around his neck and rarely ever left. When he did leave, it was with a whole entourage of peggies, keeping him more secure than the president themselves. It wasn’t that she couldn’t take them all down—especially with the help of the Resistance—but they had machine guns and grenade launchers, all things she very much lacked. So, her only course of action was to draw his ire, get herself kidnapped, and figure things out from there. If she played her cards right, she could get into the bunker and get Hudson out. Jerome and Mary May, however? Well, they weren't keen on the idea. What would happen if they lost their biggest asset against the cult? It led to an argument that carried over into the next morning, until finally, she threw her arms up and told them where the sun don't shine.

Fast Forward to when Willa rescues Hudson

“I know your sin. It drives you. Every thought, every action.” He lets out a breath. “Your sin is Wrath.” On the final word, he places his hand to his chest with a small laugh. “So I’ll indulge you: Become Wrath. Let it fill your body and consume your soul. Because in the end, you’ll still be empty. And I’ll be waiting right here.” John gives her a pitying look before throwing a glance behind him, at Hudson. “We both will.”

“No, John. I’m taking Hudson and we’re leaving or so help me I will cave your goddamn fuckin’ head in!” Swinging at him—something he evidently hadn’t expected—she smashes the pipe against his shoulder, ignoring his cry of pain. Dropping the pipe, she lunges for him, sending them both toppling to the ground in a tangle of limbs. Her fist launches forward, sending his head snapping to the side in a daze when it connects. “That’s for drowning me, you bastard.” Standing to her feet, she quickly rushes over to Hudson, who was struggling and yelling. “I gotcha.” Gently peeling the tap off, she quickly begins working on her ropes, ignoring the groaning John on the floor, who was recovering from her assault quicker than she'd expected.

“You came… I-I thought…” Hudson sobs, taking in deep breaths that weren’t restricted by the tape over her mouth.

“Of course I did.” She moves to the front of her and crouches down, working on getting the restraints off her feet next. “I know it took me a while, I had to… Well, I was preoccupied.” She looks up at Hudson, gently wiping away the fresh tears that’d fallen. “But I never stopped looking. Now let’s get the hell outta here, huh?”

“You’ll never get out of here, Deputy.” John coughs, standing and shaking his head with a bruise beginning to form around his eye.

“Like hell we will.” She growls, grabbing Hudson’s hand and pulling her toward the door. Yanking on the handle, she slips out the small crack of the door and closes it behind her, sealing John in the room by himself.

Next is my beloved Valerie Morgan, from my Clash of Worlds AU

The wind rushes through her hair, the motorcycles engine purrs beneath her, and the neon lights turn into blurs overhead.

God, she hates to admit how much she missed Night City, but it truly feels like coming home, even if it’s not actually her city. It won’t be long until it is. Until all the little ants are trembling beneath her feet, eager to get out of her way or to throw their lot in with her in hopes of being spared. It’s a thought that tugs a wicked smile onto her face, pulling at the freshly healed scars marring the left side of her face, a courteous reminder from a name she no longer cares to remember.

She wouldn’t want to ruin such a good mood, after all.

She’s buzzing with an energy that could transcend time, if she let it. She feels unstoppable, like there’s nothing that can stand in her way. Nothing, except the asshole in front of her that causes her to roll to a stop. Her teeth grind together with a ferocity that nearly shatters the pearly whites inside her mouth, but she settles for a simple honk of the horn instead. And by simple, she naturally means laying on the horn until the person in front of her has the audacity to look behind them.

“Fuck you! Go around!”

Her eye twitches and her nostrils flare. “Fuck… me?”

“Yeah, you heard me!”

She looks around to check her surroundings before pointing at herself, repeating, “Me?”

“Yes! YOU!”

She puts the kickstand on the bike down and turns off the purring engine, giving the man one last chance “Are you sure you mean me?” She questions with a tilt of her head.

“Who the fuck else could I mean? You’re the only fuck nut honkin’ their horn for a minute straight! Can’t you see I’m talkin’ here?” He jabs a thumb to his right, where another person stands by the passenger door.

She gets off the bike and walks up to him with a skip in her step, stopping right next to his door. Flashing a slightly manic smile, she bends at the waist and leans her arms against the open window. “What I want to know is who stops in the middle of the road?”

“You some type of gonk or somethin’? I said I'm talkin'!”

She stops, stares for a few uncomfortable seconds, then starts to laugh. The driver begins to laugh as well, and pretty soon, everyone’s laughing together, like they’re all in on the same joke. What joke that is, they’re still not sure, but the whole situation was beginning to seem downright silly.

It really was just utterly absurd! How could she not have noticed this man was talking to someone? How dare she have the gall to bring attention to that fact? How dare she think that she was above him? That she didn’t know she could just go around him this whole time! It was all just so. Damn. Laughable. She reaches in the window, grabs ahold of his shirt, and yanks him out. With a strength nobody could know she possessed, she tosses him over his car and onto the sidewalk, barely missing the idiot standing by the passenger door.

“Y-you’re fuckin’ whack lady!” They shout before taking off at a full sprint, glancing back to see if she was coming after them.

Before they can look back a second time, she’s right in front of them. “I’m whack? You’re the one who’s running!” Lashing out, she aims for their knees, sending them falling to the ground like a rag doll. “But not for long!” She taunts in a singsong voice, leaving them to tend to their shattered knees. “Now where was I? Oh right!” With a cheery smile, she turns and heads back toward the driver stumbling to his feet, ignoring the pained cries and pleas for help behind her.

“Who the fuck are you?”

“Oh, don’t worry about that. I’d be more worried about how you’re eating tonight.” The wicked gleam in her eye and smile that matches is the last thing the man sees.

#my writing #wip wednesday #except its saturday sooo..#oc: willa rook #au: dark willa #Pt. 1: They Watch From The Pews #john watching willa & hudson during that scene & being like 'are they... yknow? *does a limp wrist gesture*'#oc: valerie morgan #au: clash of worlds #guy in second wip really said 'aye! im talkin here!' sdfghjkl #valerie channeling the 'why are you running?' meme #Val shows up in Night City & the already high crime rate just skyrockets #& she hasnt even found out the news about Takemura or Johnny having a body yet... woof id hate to see when she gets mad 😈#was gonna post the intro to clash of worlds but deciding to post val having fun instead <3 shes definition of dog let off their leash #sorry if y'all dont wanna be tagged! i figured id actually tag people for once since i rarely participate cause Anxiety™️

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bihansthot · 8 months

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I’m just gonna say it, the JCVD skin looks bad. The face looks terrible but the body is fine I guess, it’s nice to finally see some tiddies but like wtf. I hope they fix the face before release.

#mortal kombat #johnny cage #jcvd #big woof #mk1 2023

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charliemwrites · 4 months

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Woof woof grrrrrr

CW for dub con, stay safe everyone <3

The bar is exactly as busy as you’re hoping for when you get there. Quiet and intimate, low lights, a hum of conversation but not overwhelmingly loud. The bar is mostly full but not crowded. As luck would have it, you instantly spot a couple empty stools towards the back.

You glide across the establishment, head held high and shoulders back. Pick a seat and smooth your skirt under you to perch. The bartender comes to you instantly; you pick something sweet and fruity (delighted that it’ll match your outfit.)

It takes up until they slide it across to you — a tab opened with your card — that the insecurity starts to set in. What if no one is interested? What if Soap doesn’t show up?

You sip at your drink and pull out your phone, reading your latest book. If nothing else… at least you’re getting out? God.

“This isn’t your usual scene.”

Oh. Oh this is worse than being ignored all night and going home alone. So much worse. Just barely manage not to curse aloud as you turn to your ex.

“Justin…” you start, realize you don’t know where to go from there. “Hi.”

“It’s been a minute, huh?”

You look him up and down. Designer everything, of course, brands printed all over him. No taste, though, none of it is cohesive. You wouldn’t be caught dead at his side ever again.

“How’s your arm?”

His expression flickers, hand unconsciously going to the spot where Johnny tried to tear it off.

“Fine. Thanks.” He gives you a long look. Unfriendly. “You know people have had dogs put down for less.”

You run your tongue over your teeth, fear and anger twisting up in your stomach like hot lava. How dare he threaten your boy like that?! Wish Johnny was here now to take another chunk out of him.

“Not when people trespass on private property,” you reply coldly, eyes narrowing.

He puts his hands up, laughing awkwardly. “Well, now. I wouldn’t call it — let’s just say we’re even, yeah?”

“For that at least.”

You take another big sip of your drink. Find it empty. Make hopeful eye contact with the bartender and nod for another when they gesture questioningly. There’s a reason you love this bar.

“Right… listen, about that, luv…”

“There you are, bonnie!”

You perk up despite yourself. Says something that the creep who sexually harasses you in public is better company than your ex-fiancé. Something zings through you when you realize Soap is bigger than your Justin (hopefully in every aspect). Taller, wider, more muscular. Better jawline and prettier eyes, too.

“Tucked up back here like this,” Soap mock scolds, shouldering past Justin. You let out a little squeak as he scoops you off your barstool, hand just under your ass for a hold. “Almost didn’t see you, hen.”

“H-Hi,” you say, arms going around his neck automatically. He presses his nose to your collarbone and audibly inhales. You shiver.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” he continues, voice dropping lower.

He sets you down on your stool again with a wink, then takes the stool next to yours.

“Oi, do you mind?” Justin snaps, bumped out of the way by Soap’s bulk.

“I do, actually.” The look Soap levels him is sharp, cold. Bloody killer. Instantly reminds you of all the alarm bells that normally play in your head when he’s around. “Don’t like puffed up knobs like you around my girl.”

You bite your tongue on a protest that you’re not his girl. Wouldn’t be particularly helpful right about now. You’ll correct him later.

“Your girl,” Justin scoffs. “She was mine before she was ever — hey!”

Soap’s got his fist in the front of Justin’s shirt, jerking him nearly off his feet. A few heads turn. You feel hot with embarrassment, skin prickling at so many eyes on your little trio of stupidity.

“Woah!” You yelp. “Soap!”

You grab his forearm (remind yourself not to get distracted by the muscles cording it) and lean into his line of sight. The near-murderous glint in his blue eyes softens, though there’s still an unnatural sheen to them. Something that makes the hair on the back of your head stand on end.

“Soap, let him go,” you say, quiet. “I like this bar, don’t get us kicked out… please?”

He hums, instantly drops Justin to cup his hand around the back of your neck, fingers edging into your hair. His palm feels so big and harm, a little rough with callouses. You try not to think about how easy it would be for him to manipulate your head however he wants…

“Like when you say ‘please,’ hen,” Soap purrs.

You swallow, feel your cheeks flushing as you say, “Then… you should sit down and have a drink with me. Please?”

He grins, crooked and a little mean. “Anythin’ fer you.”

He drops into his stool again like a king on his throne. You perch gingerly on your own, waving Justin away like an annoying fly. Don’t even look as he slinks off, too busy staring at Soap. Who’s… busy staring at you. As always.

“You never called,” he drawls after ordering. Whiskey, neat. The bartender sets your new drink in front of you; you start sipping to gather your thoughts and nerve. “Lucky I happened to stop in here, eh? Imagine if I’d walked past…”

You grimace a bit. A fantastic bit of luck, that. Thought you’re still not sure what type of luck.

Definitely not going to admit to him that you didn’t call on purpose, wanting plausible deniability if you did see him. As if trying to get him under your skirt by happenstance is better than calling him to do it.

“Why did you stop in here?” You ask, looking to change the subject.

“Could smell you,” he answers, eyes twinkling.

You wrinkle your nose, kick at his shin. Want to blame it on the alcohol, but you drink red wine most nights of the week. This is just… placebo and desperation.

“You’re so nasty, you know that?” You huff.

He arches his eyebrows, grins wolfishly. “Could show you how nasty I can be,” he offers.

You wrinkle your nose even as your cheeks burn. That’s exactly what you’re hoping for.

“You can’t keep talking to me like that,” you complain.

He snorts in amusement, hooking his fingers beneath your stool and tugging you closer. Until your knees are between both of his, jeans brushing against your thighs.

“Here’s the thing, darlin’,” he murmurs, low and private. “I think you like when I talk to you like that.”

You swallow audibly, hands dropping down to twist nervously in your lap.

“I think it makes your pretty pussy all wet and swollen when I get all mean like this,” he continues. You shake your head; his palm clamps down on your thigh beneath your skirt, thumb sweeping back and forth over the sensitive skin. “Think she’s fuckin’ aching fer me to make good on all my promises. And you can get all shy and sweet here, but I bet all your cunt wants is to be mounted and bred like a bitch in heat.”

And he’s right. Of course he’s fucking right. That goddamn bad guy fantasy and your shallow, needy pussy, and Soap’s stupid fucking everything.

You feel like you’re about to explode when the bartender sets his whiskey down, snapping the tension like a rubber band. Feel dizzy as you lean away, sipping desperately at your own drink in an attempt to cool off. He gives you all over maybe fifteen second before opening that sinful mouth again.

“So how about it, bonnie? Did I hit the mark?”

You feel frustrated tears pricking at your eyes. Blink and look away at your nervous hands.

“I-I don’t even know you,” you mutter. “You could be dangerous.”

“I am dangerous, baby,” he replies, “just not to you.”

You shake your head. “You’re awful.”

“Mm and you want me to do awful things to you.”

You sigh through your nose, that little logical voice blaring again. He’s going to hurt you. He’s going to use you.

(Would that be so bad, if you go in knowing it?)

A tug at your necklace startles you out of your thoughts, his finger hooked beneath the pendant. You lean in with a noise of protest, afraid he’s going to break it. Gasp as your lips brush his.

“Whatever’s goin’ on in that pretty head, let me fuck it out of you.”

You shudder, hand balanced on his thick, muscular thigh. Can feel a twitch near your thumb. Holy shit.

“I’ll be so good to you, princess,” he promises. “Let me be good to you.”

You suck in a breath. Now or never.

Well, if nothing else, maybe you’ll let Johnny eat him if he’s turns out to be a bastard.

“Prove it,” you breathe.

He guides your chin up, eyes blazing with hunger.

“Yeah?” He asks.

You blink, muster up your courage. “You heard me. Or are you back out?”

His expression goes deliciously dark. “Oh, I’ll prove it, lass. You just sit right here and I’ll get us sorted.”

His fingers slip just that last little bit up and start teasing at the lace of your panties. You bite the inside of your cheek, trying to sip at your cocktail while he flags down the bartender. His nails scrape lightly across the fabric over your clit as gets your card and throws down enough cash to cover all three drinks.

When he pulls his hand away, you have to bite back a whimper.

“If you don’t get up right now, I’m haulin’ you out of here over my shoulder,” he growls in your ear.

You’re up in an instant, smoothing down your skirt. His hand stays glued to your lower back as he ushers you out to the lot. Sits you down in the passenger seat of a black pickup, barely waits for you to buckle yourself in before peeling out of the lot.

You’re about to tell him your address when you hear the clink of a belt, a zipper. Eyes wide as they drop to his pants, to him fishing a huge, hard cock out of jeans.

“C’mere,” he near snarls.

“Soap, that’s not— mph!”

The head of his cock catches on your teeth, but that only seems to spur him on, hips twitching.

“Gonna ruin that pretty makeup, your pretty hair. Gettin’ all dolled up like that for any fucking wanker to see.”

He twists his fingers in your hair and presses you down, your cheek rubbing against the shaft. He feels huge and unnaturally hot. You press your thighs together as you imagine how it’s going to feel inside of you.

“This isn’t safe,” you complain, mouth open as you gasp against the flushed skin.

He curses, tugs you up so that your lips press against the head, already dripping. Your eyes widen in the darkness, shocked and flattered that you’ve already worked him up this much.

“Not gonnae let anything happen,” he promises, “but you need to convince me not to spank this pretty ass black and blue.”

You squeal as he releases you hair just to deliver a harsh smack to one ass cheek, the sting making you clench up.

“H-hey!”

“You want me to slap that pretty pussy too? Bet I could make you cum just tapping that little clit over and over again. That what you want, slag?”

“N-no!”

“Then show me.”

You seal your mouth around the head, sucking and licking at the precum beading at the tip. Try to brace yourself, nearly gag as he hits a pothole and shoves into your throat. It’s noisy and messy, eyes watering from how thick and deep he is already, not letting you up for more than brief gasps of air.

“Fuck, that’s it baby. Work your tongue just like that…” he groans.

You lose track of everything but trying not to gag, his threat lingering with each obscene slurp and twist of your tongue. He tastes better than you expected, and the scent of him surrounds you. Musk and pine, something familiar that niggles at your cock-drunk brain. Can’t be bothered to work it out though, not when he’s tugging your hair. Not when he comes to an abrupt stop and you deepthroat him.

He yanks you off with a near-animal growl. You whine, scrambling to brace yourself and panting. Your head feels foggy. Know your panties are soaked through; shocked you’re not dripping down your leg. If you were sitting properly, you’d probably leave a wet mark on the seat.

You moan as his mouth crashes into yours, tongue sweeping inside like he owns it. He licks the taste of himself off your tongue, hands fumbling your seatbelt off, dragging you over the center console to straddle his lap.

You gasp at the sight of his rock hard, angry cock next to your pretty dress, pressed up against your stomach. Show just how deep he’ll be inside your guts.

“Fuck, look’it that,” he groans rutting against your stomach. “Oh you were made to be mine.”

You scream as he scoops you up, stepping out of the truck with you over his shoulder.

“Soap!” You shout. “Soap, put me down, my dog—”

“I’m your fuckin’ dog,” he replies.

“No, seriously, he’s protective—”

He grabs the spare out of its hiding place and shoves the door open. You brace for angry barking and growls, but hear nothing. Soap doesn’t even pause. He just kicks the door shut and storms down the hall to your room, like he knows exactly where he’s going.

He drops you onto the bed, watches your breasts bounce as you settle on the mattress. He strips off int he blink of any eyes while you’re still catching your breath.

“W-wait, wait, my—”

He flips you onto your stomach, hikes your ass up high in the air. You squirm, try to crawl away, but he slaps your ass so hard you see stars. He places his palm flat between your shoulder blades to bin you still.

“S-Soap,” you whine as he shoves your skirt up over your ass, palms a cheek. Spreads you open just to let the flesh jiggle back into place.

“Fuck,” he growls. It sounds off. Sounds deeper, rougher now.

“Just-just slow down…!”

He yanks your panties aside, plunges two thick fingers into you. You squeal, legs kicking uselessly against the mattress.

“Oh, you’re plenty ready,” he says, dark, almost to himself. “All ready to be mated and bred. All mine.”

That finally starts to break the lust-drunk haze. Open your mouth to tell him absolutely not, it’s been way to long and your need to be stretched—

He forces his entire cock into you with one brutal thrust. You scream, cry, try to flatten yourself against the bed but he won’t even let you do that, muttering about “presenting” properly. It hurts but it feels good, know that’s it’s just too much.

“Soap,” you sob, “y-you can’t— you have to… I’m-I’m gonna break.”

“Shhhh, no you’re not,” he soothes, grinding a bit deeper. Your eyes roll back, keening through your teeth. “You were made for me. You’re all for me.”

You shake your head, but he just chuckles.

“Yes, baby, yes. You let me in, you kept me. Now we belong to each other.”

“Soap, w-what are you talking about…?” you manage, fists tight in the sheets. He draws back once and slams into you, hard, mean.

Leans down so he’s rumbling directly in your ear.“‘S Johnny, hen.”

You blink, confused and overwhelmed. “W-what… n-no. No, Johnny is my….”

“Woof.”

#cod #my writing #fanfiction #reader fic #dark fic #woof woof johnny #woof woof au

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