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royallyprincesslilly · 2 years

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Title: HALO: A MasterChief Collection: Unto Dawn {7}***

Master Chief Pablo x Sergeant Reader

Warning: Plot, NSFW, 18 + Content, SMUT, Small Bit of Angst

Words: 5.8k

Summary: You are part of the mighty SPARTANS as sergeant and a pretty badass addition to the team at that. With the first truth already revealed, more are revealed and when dawn comes everything will be different.

Note: Guess who needs more fics? Master Chief!!! I’ve decided to make a Master Chief collection of standalone one-shots. They all can be read separately to understand but can also be read in sequence. I will put a number on them so anyone who is interested in reading in sequence can, but again not necessary. This might be an acquired taste, but it’s Pablo as Master Chief forever and always around these parts. Thank you for reading! Enjoy!

Note II: Halo OGs will get the title reference. Hehehe!

If you enjoyed this please LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG!!!

***NOT Edited/Proofread***

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-Y/N-

Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap.

That was the sound of your booted foot rapidly bouncing up and down on the floor of your domicile as you sat on the couch with your eyes glued to your door. Everything was silent, albeit that sound—that repetitive sound.

Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap.

The loudness of your foot bouncing against the floor should have made it impossible to hear any possible sound anywhere else—let’s say the hall leading to your door but it didn’t. The silence out there was deafening. The absolute silence and absence of his footsteps was deafening. You knew he wasn’t a stupid man. His intelligence was high as was his ability to perceive what someone meant next. It was a talent when it came to interrogations. A learned skill and enhanced ability. You knew he’d understood what you meant by “the rendezvous point had been compromised”. You knew he’d understood the dangers you’d both recklessly had put yourselves in. You also knew that he would have understood what your walking away meant. This was the only logical location.

Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap.

Your foot sped up and with it so did your thoughts. You went over what he’d said. He’d taken out his pellet. This is what Miranda meant. She’d told him about your pellet. Now you wanted to know which action came first. Did he learn about your pellet being removed and then decided to take his out too or the other way around? You didn’t know which possibility you wanted to be true. Did it matter? The facts were what were important. John had removed his pellet. He was pellet-free. Everything you’d experienced within the first few hours he was now experiencing.

The first seventy-two hours were the worst for you. While it was a wonderous time where everything felt new and unique, you also went through sensory overload with everything. Every scent was too strong, the sun’s glare too fierce, the breeze, or rain or even snow too harsh, and every new emotion that wasn’t all that new felt nauseating. You remembered being so anxious and jumpy but also so distracted and hyper focused on the slightest thing. It made missions a nightmare. Was he going through the same?

You stood then released a harsh puff of air, venting some of your frustration. Why wasn’t he here yet, you wondered? Where did he go? Was he going to come? Did you really want him to come? With that question you dropped back onto the couch. A realization hit you, he didn’t have anything in him suppressing his emotions or urges.

The sensation of attraction hit you hard the first time. Thinking back, you remembered just how it was for you and your belly fluttered. You hadn’t known what was going on or why the smell of John’s sweat made your heart quicken, or why the sight of John showering made your mouth water and hands shake. You’d seen him shower hundreds of times, seen the soapy-water mixture cascade down his body so many times it had become normal. You remembered how the sight of what was between his legs made something in you tingle and moisten. You didn’t understand it then, but now—months later you were wiser—slightly. What if him coming here makes that happen to him?

Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap.

Your foot banged louder, and your thoughts spiraled, and you recalled your one and only night together. You’d wracked your brain trying to come up with an explanation as to how it happened. Your attraction had gotten to a boiling point but what of him? Was he lying and had the pellet out then? Or had Halsey’s failproof tech done just that and failed? You wanted to track Miranda down and get some answers right now. Bolting up once again, you prepared to leave then the door tone rang out making you stop in your tracks. After several moments, you practically tiptoed to the door and turned on the surveillance screen beside it. There he stood all near seven feet of him.

After taking a few deep breathes, you pressed the button and watched the door slide open. As he looked up, you noted how clear the hazel in his eyes had become. He looked like he really was seeing differently. His eyes also asked the question his lips did not. You stepped to the side and allowed him access. As he walked inside you watched him closely as if he were this unpredictable force that could and would go berserk at any moment. However, he did not go berserk, or do anything out of the ordinary.

You rolled your eyes because none of this was ordinary. This was probably the second time in forever that he’d been inside your domicile. This was the definition of abnormal but somehow it felt as if he should be here. He should be in your domicile, should be sitting across the table from you at mealtime, or sitting on your couch tinkering with a gun or plasma grenade, or in your bed. By the time your eyes came into focus you’d realized you’d dazed off and he was now standing next to that table looking at you with such an innocent and vulnerable look on his face that you couldn’t help but take a step to him.

It was a step you retracted almost immediately.

“Why here?”

“Miranda and I have fortified it. When I realized I could trust and confide in her when I took out my—pellet She helped me find Halsey’s eyes and ears, get rid of them and fortify so no others could be planted. It’s safe here.”

It was he who took the next steps to you, but he didn’t approach too closely. He stopped several feet from you, but it was still too close. You side stepped and walked over to your couch and sat down.

“How did you—why did you--.”

His starts and stops were adorable. He didn’t know where to begin. You understood, this was a lot to take in and adjust to.

“Sit,” you urged.

The look of caution John gave you almost made you snort. He was acting like you were the threat. Slowly you watched his bow-legged walk to the minimalistic chair that was adjacent to the couch you were sitting on. When he sat, there was no ease or comfort to it. His back was straight, legs spread widely apart, hands resting atop his thigh and eyes on you—waiting. On the surface, he looked calm, cool and collected but you knew better. You knew underneath that icy and stoic exterior he was losing his mind with the urge to rapid fire every question that came to mind. You could tell he was seconds from bouncing off the walls.

“How did you take it out?”

“Dug it out.”

“How did you know it was there?”

You took a deep breath, “Remember the mission to Aleria?”

“The dust planet.”

You nodded.

“You fell off the cliff,” he added.

“I did and landed in the pit of those sharp rocks.”

“You said you were fine.”

“I was or thought I was. It wasn’t until I got back to base and was cleaning up did I notice the massive bruise on my back. Usually bruises fade within a day or two but it was almost a week and it didn’t look to be getting any better. In those days I noticed small changes. Things seemed a little different but I didn’t know how or why. When I looked at the area I felt it and it felt like there was something lodged there. I ended up taking a knife to it and the pellet came out.”

He looked to be taking that piece of the puzzle well. There were no outward signs of a mental breakdown.

“Is that when you went to Miranda?”

“No that was about a month after. I just tried to keep everything normal. I had to. After it was out, I started to feel things, emotions like anger, rage, happiness, I laughed, things were funny. Colors were brighter, smells better, the armor felt different, it was a lot to take in. There were so many days I couldn’t handle it. So many missions I nearly spazzed out on because the training was not enough to keep the self-doubt, the thoughts, and the urge to rebel against an order wondering if it was the right thing. My objectivity was gone.”

“I thought you were different. I noticed but then you’d go back to normal when I watched. I thought it was nothing.”

“It was control. It was me working doubly hard to appear normal.” You sighed remembering those weeks and months. “It was so much work—so hard especially with Halsey’s eyes and checks and exams. There must have been tens of times I thought she’d discovered me but every time she let me go, I knew I was safe, but I could never relax from fear of it being a tactic of hers to catch me.”

It was then his shoulders began to slouch.

“You should have come to me.”

“And say what? Halsey has a pellet in your back that makes you numb? Would you have believed me?”

He studied you for a few moments before he looked away. You knew that he knew he wouldn’t have believed you.

“I believe you now.”

Hearing the words, you felt some strange relief. You weren’t alone with this anymore. Yeah, you had Miranda, but she didn’t know what this felt like. She’d gone her entire life with emotions and feelings. Things that were second nature and a duh for her were not for you. It took practice, note taking--meticulousness. Now you had someone going through the same exact thing as you. You sighed.

“So it was out when we sparred in the ring and the mission where you disobeyed me and took initiative. And that night.”

Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap.

Your foot picked up right where it had left off before he’d arrived. Fighting the urge to bolt up and pace the room, you dug your nails into your outer thigh and gritted with the subtle pain. You didn’t know if he sensed your agitation, but he unexpectedly changed the direction of the conversation.

“Miranda says the artifact must have damaged mine when it sent out an electromagnetic pulse. It was malfunctioned when she took it out.

“Ho—how do you feel?”

He tilted his head to the side a little bit then straightened it and did the same on the left side. It was like a robot doing a systems check.

“I feel.”

His eyes met yours. “Have you always looked this way?”

“What way?”

Again, he took a beat then replied. “Pleasing to the eye.”

Your jaw dropped. Master chief Petty Officer John-117 just called you attractive. You could have passed out. Never did you think you’d see this day. Did he even know what attractive was?

“My looks have always been the same.”

In such swift movements, John stood closed the space between you and sat on the table before you that you had a few books scattered on. “Your eyes this color?”

His face peered closer into your orbs. You nodded.

“Your skin—this--.” He cupped your jaw sliding his thumb across your cheekbone then to your jaw. “This—soft.”

Your vocal cords wouldn’t work, you knew that already, so you didn’t bother answering. You nodded again. John’s thumb fell to your lips where he traced them taking in every detail with the thick pad of his digit like his skin held memories and your lips was what he wanted to remember the most.

“Your lips—so---.”

His eyes were glued to your mouth and the intensity in them made the hand you were currently using to dig your nails into your thigh tremble. He didn’t continue though, instead, he clenched his jaw and gulped. His Adams Apple bobbed making his heart quicken. This was nothing like using your heightened senses in combat or on a mission. This was different.

You naturally picked up all these little details but now they meant entirely different things. Before increased heartrate could mean someone was lying or trying to hide something. Now, it could mean the man across from you was struggling with adjusting or feeling arousal. Then, the twitch of a jaw could mean anger, now it could mean a struggle with control—a fight to hold on to it and not act impulsively—recklessly—rakishly. A slight dilation in the eye used to mean he’d picked up a detail or movement, now it could mean he saw something appealing, something he liked—wanted.

His voice brought you out of your chaotic thoughts; “Your mouth--,” he began as he pushed the tip of his thumb into your mouth. It wasn’t a difficult task for him. Your lips parted with ease and welcomed him.

“Fuck!” It was a guttural, and harshly whispered word that sent a shiver through you.

“So—hot—smooth--.”

His face came closer and everything in you wanted to feel his lips on yours, but the small voice in your head whispered of caution, of danger, of nearing doom. John’s left hand that was clasping the back of your head moved down to your neck then slowly trailed lower to your collarbone. As his thumb in your mouth explored the buds of your tongue and the variety of sharp and dull teeth, his other fingers swirled around your collar and décolletage, leaving a trail of icy fire. His touch burned—scorched even, but chilled and stunned all at the same time and you wanted more—needed more.

“Y/N,” John whispered his forehead now pressed against yours. He was sweltering.

The subtle mint and juniper berry scent caressed you, awakening something in you that wanted to know if his lips tasted like that mint and juniper. From memory, you knew they would. You knew he would taste sweet, and fresh and his kiss would leave trails of ice along your skin. That knowledge only made your insides burn more fervently. His scent would forever be engraved in you, forever be one you would crave.

Without thinking, you placed your hand on his bulky thigh and instantly gripped it when you registered the hefty muscles there. A small groan strangled in your throat, but you knew he still heard it. His eyes snapped open and peered into yours. You felt like the glare from them were as intense as the rays from the sun itself.

“You smell--,” he inhaled deeply then moaned. “Sweet like fruit, earthy like water, fragrant like flowers. You smell—like need.”

Master Chief was a sweet talker without even trying to be. You knew this was all innocent on his part. He was just working through his newfound world and what it meant to him and his senses. There was nothing sensual within his words, no yearning, or desire. That was all coming from you, and you had to get a grip. Steeling your nerves, the best you could, you swallowed—albeit a little too loudly, then spoke.

“D—do—do you have—question—s?”

Looking in his eyes, you saw innocence but there was something else. The moment you smelled him, you almost ripped his clothes off. You smelled desire. Was it yours or his, though?

“Do I smell the same as you do—to you?”

You shook your head.

“What do I smell like?”

“Mint, juniper berries, gun metal, citrus pods--,” you paused and inhaled. There was always something else that you couldn’t ever decipher. In the last few weeks, you’d come up with something but none of it was plausible. It sounded stupid. “And the stars and the night air after a cool breeze rips through leaving nothing but silence--stillness.”

Chancing it, you opened your eyes and found his on yours. In seconds, John’s lips crashed to yours and took control of a searing kiss. Weeks ago, his kiss was forceful, demanding and sloppy, tonight it was the same but oh so urgent and eager. When you looked back at that first night with him, you’d wondered how he kissed like that. Tonight, you understood. Instinct. You quickly got lost in his kiss, lost in his taste, lost in the way his hand felt at the tail of your back where the evidence of the missing device laid. The fragments of his words from the day you’d had your exams with Halsey echoed in your head.

“Anything else you are thinking, anything besides that, stop. None of it means anything, it never has.”

You quickly tore your lips from his, bolted upright to your feet ramming your nose into his in a jumbled move to scurry from him and across the room. John’s loud hiss filled the room. You kept your back to him and stared at the wall, trying to fight through the pain in your own nose and keep the seams of your control together. They were quickly fraying, threatening complete exposure.

“Y/N?”

The confusion in his voice stabbed at your chest. Did he even know what he was doing?

“You said—I don’t—this isn’t a good idea.”

“Why? We have done this before.”

“And you reprimanded me for it and ignored me for weeks after. You even went as far as to tell me that you are my superior and I am your subordinate,” you began.

“That I have your back in the field and you have mine. We get in and get the job done. Anything else you are thinking, anything besides that, stop. None of it means anything, it never has. None of it will ever happen again. Keep your head in the fight, there is a lot at stake,” John filled in with his perfect memory.

“Exactly,” you whispered ignoring how the words that were spoken with such conviction and certainty weeks ago were now said softly, with plenty of uncertainty and regret. Did he regret them?

“I didn’t know what to say, or how to reconcile things,” he attempted beginning to pace your floor. “I had the memories of that night, but I did not understand them, did not understand how or why. My head was not my own. Miranda thinks there were moments of clarity from the pellet and moments where it worked. I think—that night…with you was—clarity.”

You watched him pace. This was not the John you knew who was always in control. He was struggling. Could his words really have been because of the pellet and his actions that night real? He continued to pace but you remained where you were contemplating what you should do.

Was it a good idea to go to him? Was it a good idea to just let him deal with his first bout of regret? It wasn’t just regret though. He was confused and struggling to understand it all. Sighing, you walked to him and placed a gentle hand on his burly shoulder. Immediately, John stopped moving and turned to you with tortured eyes. This was hard enough, you thought. You didn’t want to make it harder or make him go through it alone like you had. A full minute passed before he was fully turned to you and stepping closer. When he didn’t stop, you backed away. He followed.

“Why—why did you—that night?”

His broken question was something you hadn’t expected. You knew what he was asking. Your back pressed against the wall—nowhere else to go. Resigning to your fate, you spoke.

“I—I wanted you. I desired you. I wanted to touch you, to—have you.”

John’s eyes sparked to life, and he closed the last remaining bit of space between you. You could feel his hardness pressing into your abdomen. He too wanted. John looked down between your bodies.

“This is the third time tonight this has happened to me. The first standing just outside your door as I heard you moaning my name over and over saying you want me inside of you.”

Your belly fell. He’d heard you.

“The second at the tower and right now. This has happened so many times since that night with you. As I tried to sleep, took a shower, saw you sparring with Kai or Riz, you in your skivs while changing, and almost every waking moment in between. It was torture—the heat, the ache, the erraticness. I didn’t understand why or what was happening, but I understand now.”

His face was so close, all you had to do was tip your tongue out and you would taste his lips. You didn’t, though. You wanted to hear his deduction. Everyone spoke highly of master chief’s tactical intelligence, raved about it really. Halsey even gloated about his overall intelligence claiming she’s made the perfect specimen both in physicality and mentality. You didn’t doubt his intelligence, not one bit. You knew John was smart and deserved the constant praise, however, you wondered how much of it was enhancements and pellet and how much was the man himself.

“What do you understand, John?”

When you said his name, another spark behind his irises caught your attention. His hips lunged into you sending his erection into your abdomen again. This time you couldn’t help but moan.

“You affect me. You always have, from the very beginning. You make me want.” His voice was raspy but certain.

“Want what?”

John’s eyes held you where you were.

“You. So much of you so much from you. I—Y/N—I--.”

Deciding to say fuck it all you crashed your lips to his and took control. Although you both had no experience you at least had an inkling more than him. His instant reaction to your lips on his was what made you wrap your arms around his neck. He kissed you back without hesitation and without any control. There was no sense in how his lips moved against yours, no organization, just plain need.

John’s hands that were plastered on the wall, caging you in, were now on your hips, squeezing you. it almost hurt—almost. Moaning on his mouth, you brought your hands to his head and held his head in place. Abandoning your hips, John lifted you with such ease your desire flooded your panties because of it. You wanted him badly and you doubted you cared if it were here against the wall or on the floor or the across the table. It didn’t matter.

As if hearing your thoughts, John pressed your back to the wall, grinding his hardness into you. Before you could pull from him, his mouth broke the kiss and exclaimed out in a mixture of bass and squeak. His eyes were on yours, studying you, looking for something.

“What John?”

“You want this?”

This could have meant his cock or this moment, whatever he meant you nodded—vigorously and felt no shame. His hips surged forward again and both of you exclaimed this time.

“Do you?”

John’s eyes dropped to your lips, and it was him who kissed you this time. It was soft, slow, searching and then he slipped his tongue into your mouth, and it was like he became an entirely different man than the one who was lost and innocent minutes ago. His groan echoed in your domicile, and it was more animal than man. He released you then spun you around pushing you into the wall as soon as your feet touched the floor. From there John kissed your neck, then brought his mouth to your ear where he licked the shell then nibbled on it. All the while he ground his hips sending his length on your ass.

“Uuugh, Y/N.”

You weren’t used to him sounding so vulnerable, so needy. Hearing him like this snapped something inside of you like a rubber band. You reached behind you and cupped his manhood. Again, John groaned. As you felt him through his pants it felt as if he hardened even more.

“Pl—pl--,” he stuttered.

You continued your ministrations adding a little more pressure. His one hand on the wall balled into a fist that pounded onto the wall creating a noticeable dent.

“Pl—please.”

A devilish smile teased your lips but when you felt his other hand squeeze your hip you knew the time for teasing or dominance games was gone. You quickly began undoing his pants, desperately needing to feel the heat from his skin. Within seconds, you’d managed to free him. The blazing rod that laid across the swell of your ass felt as if it were branding you, melting your skin, claiming you as his. You peeped back and found John’s eyes glued to where his appendage touched you.

“Beautiful.”

“I need—need--.”

You knew what he needed; it was the same as what you needed. With the same haste, you undid your leather like pants and urgently pushed them off your hips. The motion of you shimmying your hips from side to side while trying to get your pants low enough, bobbed his heavy cock on your ass and every move made him swear and squeeze your hip harder. Pressing your cheek to the wall, you moaned.

“Do you remember what to do?”

“I know what to do.”

You bent forward a little as he adjusted his stance behind you, lining himself up correctly. You waited and waited and though it felt like an eternity, it really was mere seconds before you felt master chief petty officer John 117 thrust into you with such force that sent your cheek pressing further into the wall while making your neck bend backward. Both of you shouted out in unison. He filled you so perfectly, so completely. Part of you hummed with a feeling of finally—complete resonance; while the other part said you couldn’t take anymore and raged. John must have sensed the need for balance and remained perfectly still though the hand on the wall said he wanted to do the opposite.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!”

Slowly, your body adjusted to the size and feel of him, slowly it accepted him. It marveled you that your body hadn’t reacted this way to him before. Whenever you thought about that first night, your body was greedy. Tonight, it was cautious. What was different? You glanced the way his hand trembled and knew he what to do. Moving your ass in a small circle you sent his cock rotating inside of you and John’s fist flattening on the wall. You did it again and his other hand joined the wall, bracing it or himself.

Again, you looked to him, but his head was hanging backward, eyes pinched closed, neck tight and threaded with veins. He didn’t look like he was breathing. The more you circled on him the more he swelled within you, but your body didn’t scream in rejection, no your body aided his girth rewarding your efforts with wetness. A whine escaped your throat, and you knew it was a sound you’d made for the first time. John knew it too. His hands left the wall and gripped your hips and just like that whatever little control he was desperately gripping to vanished.

John slowly retreated from your body and your greedy core protested and tried to suck him back in but failed. Every suction made John grunt and groan.

“Fuck!”

He didn’t retreat fully before he slammed right back into you.

“Aah!”

This time he retreated halfway then repeated the action. It garnered the same reaction, a half shouting moan. With each slow and steady withdrawal came a bruising and forceful snap forward of his hips that sent the most delicious and complex feeling of pleasure and pain through you and sounds you’d never made before from your throat. Soon, John sped his thrusts, but they were no longer steady. You could feel his body shaking, feel the sporadic spasms of his muscles and his cock as it lodged deeper and deeper into your body.

He stuttered your name over and over then that stutter disappeared, turning into chaotic and gravely grunts of your name. Soon, he had your entire body pressed against the wall with you haphazardly on your tiptoes trying not to allow him to impale you and fuck you into oblivion no matter how much part of you wanted just that. The sounds in your domicile sounded animalistic, crass, and violent.

From your combined moans, grunts and shouts, to your hands hitting the wall each time his cock collided with some secret place inside of you that sent goosebumps across your skin and your flesh rubbing and slapping together. If anyone heard it they would probably think foul play, but you didn’t care. They could have barged inside and became your audience for all you cared. Right now all you wanted was to feel this large man inside of you, filling you to capacity and making you scream in ways you’d never screamed before.

John grunted loudly, punched the wall once, then twice, in sync with the thrust of his hips. On the third plunge, you saw stars and by the fourth, your knees gave out, toes numbed, and voice went soprano, but John was there holding you up with one strong arm to deliver one final thrust before you felt him spilling inside of you. His body convulsed against yours as he shuddered into your ear before hissing. Your panting turned to mewls and neither of you could move from where you were. John rested his chin on your shoulder and tried to catch his breath the same as you.

“Was—Was that fast?”

His question barely registered. This feeling was still something you hadn’t gotten used to and didn’t know how to process. It was different when you were alone and exploring your own body then with him. With him it was always close to—too much. You wondered if he felt that too.

“Fast?”

“The first time felt longer in my memory.”

You snorted because he was right. Now comparing the two this was quicker.

“It’s okay, John.”

“I—I—I’m—sorry.”

Those words made you angle your head back a little to see his face. His forehead glistened with sweat that now rolled down his temples and sides of his face. A chaotic look was in his eyes but you also so insecurity. Was he ashamed? Moving for the first time in long minutes your legs tingled when they touched the floor and you doubted they possesed the strength to be used but you fought through it. John allowed you to take more control of your body and rose to full height.

The new space allowed you to pull from him. With another hiss, John slipped from between your folds and the feel of the emptiness made you frown. Turning to him the glistening part of him that had just been inside of you caught your eye and mesmerized you. His seed dripped from the still swollen and now aggressively red tip onto the floor and the angry veins throbbing just below his flesh made your breath hitch. He was still hard. Shaking your head, you met his eyes.

“Wh—why are you sorry?”

His eyes dropped from yours, but you cupped his chin making him look at you again.

“At me John.”

“Something in me tells me it shouldn’t be fast.”

A small smile tickled your lips. He was adorable. You wrapped your arms around his neck pressing your body against his and his automatic response was to moan, sigh and wrap his arms around you right back. Your heart threatened to beat right out of your chest.

“It’s okay. This is new. You need practice.”

John’s eyes darkened and you knew he grasped your meaning.

“Practice.”

You nodded. A bead of sweat rolled down his neck and distracted you making you want to tip your tongue out to capture it. He smelled delicious and his lips tasted delicious. Why couldn’t that? It was an urge you couldn’t fight, so you didn’t. Leaning into him, you tipped your tongue out and licked up his neck to his earlobe, bit down then moaned. His cock immediately saluted you.

“You didn’t become the master chief you are today without a little bit--,” you whispered, pausing to tip your tongue into the shallow part of his ear. Again, his cock begged for your attention. “Or a lot of practice,” you finished pressing more firmly against him. “Right?”

Your eyes met and it was right this minute you saw the demon every foe did. Only the demon you saw was not evil or soulless. He was a daemon. He was just unbound, hungry and insatiable. Your belly did backflips thinking of the demon in battle joining you in your bed. You stepped back from him and walked around him with your pants still at your knees. John turned to watch you, his cock bobbing, begging, dripping. Tearing your eyes away from the captivating appendage, you bent and undid your boots before kicking them to opposite sides of the room. Next, you peeled your pants and underwear down the rest of the length of your legs and kicked those to the side too.

John looked from your toes up your legs, eyes resting right at the apex of your thighs, the place he had just been and from the looks of his cock desperately wanted to return to. You allowed him however long he needed to satiate his gaze. When his eyes met yours again, a new feeling of insecurity washed over you. Rolling your shoulders back you shook it off.

“What do you say master chief? Forward unto dawn?”

His nose flared, jaw clenched, and mouth quirked to the side in a lopsided smirk that made you quiver. In seconds, he’d crossed to you ignoring his own pants circling his ankles and hoisted you into the air and against him. You wrapped your legs around him and moaned at the feel of his thickness nudging against your sore but wanting core.

“Forward unto dawn,” he repeated just before his lips claimed yours.

John kissed you passionately and walked without eyes as if he’d walked these halls before, as if he belonged here. Your moans melded together and with each passing second your bodies communicated—begging the other for something neither of your mouths could voice from lack of knowledge. When you felt the softness of your bed under your back, you began to wonder how you’d gotten here, but when he kissed you again and you felt his cock spasm against your slit you moaned and wondered how it had taken you this long to get here.

“Y/N,” John moaned.

From now on you knew this was the only way you wanted him to ever say your name—upon a moan.

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