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#it's Hating John Hours over here
baptst · 1 year
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did a speedrun of jake’s region before saying goodbye to my game for a bit and i am once more sad about the stark contrast in joseph’s goodbye videos. john gave everything he had, everything he was to joseph and it still wasn’t enough. he has never been enough and he died not being enough. 
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he opens the mail
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Captain Price opens a package, thinking it’s intel, but it’s a sex pollen. The only cure? Your pussy, apparently.
Warning: sex pollen tropes, extremely dubious consent, attempt at satire?, angry john price
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“We’re never going to make this deadline. Laswell’s gonna kill me,” you complained, burying your head in the pile of envelopes and packages strewn over your desk. 
“Did this to yourself, lass. Shoulda been keepin’ up with intel duty. Wee bit at a time, ‘s what I say,” Soap patted you on the shoulder, feigning pity. 
You spent hours combing through the documents, and by the time everyone had gone to bed, your fingers were covered in paper cuts, and your vision was blurry from squinting at the poorly scrawled Cyrillic words. 
You thought you were alone, and as you stood up to stretch and refill your coffee mug, Captain Price opened up the office door, scaring you half to death. 
“Oh, hey Corporal,” he smiled and then furrowed his brow, “What are you still doing here?”
You sighed, pointing to the piles of documents,
“Laswell’s intel backlog. I’m the only one with a Level 3 linguistics cert for Russian, so here I am. Gonna be an all-nighter.”
He closed the door and sat down across from your seat, digging into the pile, 
“I’m Level 3. Let’s finish it.”
“Captain, you don’t have to do that. I’m sure you’ve got more important things…”
Price shook his head, taking off his hat and hanging it on the chair back,
“Nah, tha’s alright, love. I’ll help ya. Get us a tea, yeah?”
You knew how he took his tea, and you hated that you did. Secretly, you were obsessed with him. He was always around, smelling like balsam wood and tobacco, looking like a gladiator, huge and capable in the most masculine way. It was hard to concentrate when he was nearby. Now that he had offered to help, you had to grin and bear it. 
You worked together for a while, chatting, even laughing. It was nice. You had so much in common, the conversation flowed easily, and you found yourself much more at ease. Finally, three packages remained. You opened the first one and found little more than phone records for a local library. Unhelpful to say the least. Price opened a water bill, and he recognized the address of a recent Konni base location. Any intel at this point felt like a celebration. Then, the final box. 
“Go on then. Show us the ending,” he smiled, handing it to you. 
“Couldn’t take the joy of ripping up the last letter, Captain. Be my guest,” you smiled. 
He chuckled, tearing into the envelope. In a flash, bright pink powder sprayed him directly in the eyes, and he writhed in pain, pinching them shut, his whole body going stiff. 
“Fuck me!” He shouted. 
“Hang on,” you ran over to the sink in the kitchenette, “Here’s some water. Get that shit out of your eyes.”
“Don’t,” he moved away from you like you were on fire, “Don’t touch me. Might be contagious.”
Your chest was rising and falling with your labored breathing, and you were immediately worried. You reached for your phone and called Laswell.
“Laswell, Price got anthraxed by one of the intel letters. What do you want us to do?”
She gasped, 
“What? Shit. I’m on my way.”
She hung up on you. You watched Price slowly try to open his eyes. They were stained hot pink from the powder. 
“You alright?” You asked him. 
“Yeah, love,” he sighed, “Doesn’t hurt anymore. Feeling strange though. Laswell said she’s coming?”
You nodded,
“Yeah, just in case.”
He nodded, running his hand along the inside of his collar. The captain was sweaty and a little pale. 
“Captain, are you okay?”
“Mmm, no,” he shook his head, “Something’s not right, love.”
He stood and went to the sink, washing as much of the powder off as he could. You moved away from him and stationed yourself across the room, praying for Laswell to hurry. 
Price was in a bad way. He took off his shirt, and he was still dripping with beads of sweat. You tried not to stare, but his temperature wasn’t the only thing heating up. His huge cock was making a prominent tent in his pants, but he was in too much pain to bother hiding it. You felt yourself blushing, and you willed yourself to pull it together. 
“…fuckin’ hell,” his hand went to his crotch to squeeze his length, trying to find some relief, “Sorry, love.”
“It’s okay,” you said politely, trying to breathe normally, but feeling the slick rush melt between your legs. 
“It’s makin’ me…feel…bloody hell. I can’t hold it off. Can…can you…? No! No, what the fuck am I sayin’? No,” he shook his head, rubbing his hands down his face, hot and very bothered. 
You inched closer to him,
“If I haven’t been affected yet, I’m sure it’s okay. How should I help you?”
“No! No, stay back. I’m not…I can’t think straight. My mind’s got one thing on it,” he shoved his hands beyond his zipper and began to jerk himself off, his dick making lurid noises with his hand. 
You hated seeing him so helpless. You moved to his side,
“Cap, it’s okay. Let me help you.”
His hand was around your throat in milliseconds. Price shoved you against the wall and began to kiss your mouth, furiously laving his tongue against yours. 
“No, no, no,” he whispered through his kisses, not bothering to pull away as he spoke his lamentations. 
You made the mistake of putting your hands on his chest to steady yourself. He moaned, trembling beneath your touch,
“Ahh, careful.”
“Sorry,” you pulled your hands away, still trapped in his firm grip around your neck, “did I hurt you?”
“No, doesn’t hurt.”
He said it in a way that darkly implied your touch was igniting a different kind of fire. You put your hands back where they were, and his eyes shot open, piercing through yours with a lustful rage. Unexpectedly, he ripped off your shirt and lay you down on the black leather couch in the corner of the office. He crushed you with his weight, kissing you deeply. 
Then, your phone rang. He didn’t allow you to pause, so it went to voicemail. It rang again. You were getting just as hot as he was, and you weren’t that interested in who was looking for you in the middle of the night. Until, however, the door to the office burst wide open and Laswell and Gaz burst through it. 
Price snarled. You’d never heard a man make that noise before. Laswell put her hands on her hips while Gaz tried to shield his face in shock. Laswell rubbed her forehead, frustrated,
“Are his eyes pink, Corporal?”
You escaped his jaws for a moment, 
“Yeah, why?”
“It’s a sex drug. Forces the user to fornicate as it is only passed through the body in seminal fluid, dissolving in the heat of another person’s body. Are you volunteering here? What happened?”
Her tone was so matter of fact, it was a little humorous, if Price’s length wasn’t rutting against you in earnest, you might've laughed. You tried to explain as much as he would allow,
“Got too close… just… happened. How…” you moaned as Price pulled down the strap of your bra and helped himself to your nipple, “How did you know?”
She sighed, typing something into her datapad,
“Checked the incident log from this afternoon. Four more cases of this have popped up in intel collections. Gonna have to screen for it next time.”
She turned to walk out of the office with Gaz, and you called after her,
“Hey, wait! How long does it - oh, fuck… how long does it last?”
Laswell had the audacity to smirk at you, raising her eyebrows and cutting her eyes at Price’s swollen cock, lolling out of his pants, scraping itself against you. 
“Eight hours. Looks like you’re in for a rough night, Corporal. Maybe next time you’ll be more careful.”
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Part 2
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singmyaubade · 4 months
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Shades Of Cool
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toxic!dark!rafe cameron x female!pogue!reader
summary: you are just living your life, completely normal and free. but, what happens when rafe cameron decides that you are his? he's danger.
warnings: smut! 18+ stalking, manipulation, rafe is obsessed with reader, fingering, swearing, unprotected sex, slight breeding kink, praise, oral (male receiving), dark!rafe cameron, choking, jealousy, violence, heavy smut..
a/n: i'm delighted I'm finally starting this, even if it took me so long. i genuinely hope you all enjoy this series. i understand that this a bit short, but the narrative is only getting started, so things will only get wilder! however, it is to be expected—this is a rafe cameron fic.
series
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One thing that you hated about Outer Banks was how the heat still radiated at night, causing excessive amounts of water to be drank and a great amount of fans that blew hot air into your face.
It only made everyone irritable and only caused more arguments like now,
"I swear to god JJ, I am about to fucking murder you if you say another word," You hissed, giving him a glare as he mockingly grew scared.
"I agree," Cleo said before falling back into her nap.
"All I'm saying is that we have been moping around here for hours meanwhile we could be partying on the fresh beach and cool water," JJ replied, using his hands to represent the scenery to all of you.
"I'm going to have to agree with Y/N," Pope said, turning his head to JJ, "I'm already in tough shit with my parents for when you knocked over my great-grandmothers vase," Pope glared.
JJ put his hands up in defense, "I told you tequila makes me clumsy,"
"Besides every single Kook is there, including Rafe and if he sees Sarah with us, it will only bring another fight and you are not going back to jail," Kie warned, still closing her eyes while the fan blew the air in her face, blowing her hair.
"When have we ever been scared of Rafe?" JJ asked.
"When he gave me a full smackdown for doing my job," Pope scoffed.
"And when he almost drowned me," Sarah chimed in from across the room where she was laying on John B's legs on the carpet floor.
"And when he shot Sheriff Peterkin in front of us," John B added.
"And when-" Pope began.
"Okay that's enough," He said as you giggled, turning your head back to the fan.
You didn't know much about Rafe Cameron since you had moved to Outer Banks only last year and you had met the "star Pogues" a few months ago.
You had never really seen Rafe's face ever, only heard of him honestly.
But you didn't know if it was a bad thing.
All you had heard about was how evil and villainous he was which caused some places to be off limits for the fact that the boys couldn't handle another beat down with the Kooks and there was a greater matter at hand.
But still, you always were curious about "evil" Rafe Cameron.
"You guys are no fun," JJ pouted, sitting beside you on the couch.
You patted the lower part of his leg, "Poor baby," You sarcastically said to which moved his leg swiftly causing you to laugh.
Suddenly the lights and fans turned off as you all except for JJ groaned, knowing that meant the electricity was off you and you would have to deal with the heat and darkness.
Which meant the only choice was the beach party,
JJ cheered, "I win!"
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You crossed your arms as you walked on the warm sand, lots of cheering and loud music around you. You could see the Kooks and the Pogues in their own groups, not daring to interact with eachother.
It was hard to get used to the fact that there were two groups of people based on economic statuses and that it meant that if you were one thing, the other one hated you.
You had never been to a place like that but you just kinda got used to it.
Yet you still could never tell which group was really which sometimes.
You were forced to walk around by yourself as John B and Sarah wandered off to a quiet spot while JJ started drinking with Kie as his babysitter and Cleo and Pope wandered around.
All of it sounded like a lot of third wheeling which made you stay away.
But you didn't mind being alone, you liked listening to the waves and watching the festivities that went along with a party.
And you knew that a beer would help you get more into the party festivities.
You walked over the keg where a man with a shaved head and a matching tank top and shorts poured himself a beer as you curiously looked at him.
You had to admit that he was one of the most attractive men you had seen before.
His lips were a perfect shade of pink and they were smooth like sucking on a cherry. His veins were bulging from his hands and you could see the peach fuzz on his jawline that you could only really see upclose.
You snapped out of your analysis as he looked at you as you waited there awkwardly, forming a smile on your face.
"Sorry to creepily stand here, I'm just trying to get a uh-" You said, pointing to the keg.
His face studied you for a second, almost as if he was trying to figure you out. You could tell by his face that he had never seen you before and he looked as if he was trying to figure out if you were a Kook or Pogue.
He chuckled, "Didn't mean to take so long, I wouldn't have if I had seen your pretty face sooner," He smirked, looking you up and down, causing you to blush.
You felt stupid for blushing over something that a man probably said to every pretty girl he saw but you felt something different about him.
You were taken aback by his boldness, "Do you say that to every women that waits for her turn on the keg?" You teased.
"Only the pretty ones," He replied, causing you to laugh.
"Smooth talker I see," You smiled.
"Always," He joked, "I swear I've never seen you around and usually, you know everyone in Outer Banks," He probed.
"Yeah, I just moved here last year," You answered, "I haven't made my rounds yet,"
"Figured," He said, "I would've definitely noticed you,"
"Pfft," You beamed, "I'm sure you would've walked past me on the beach, there are many beautiful girls here,"
"Nah," He laughed, looking off, "You are different from them,"
"How could you already assume that?" You asked, curiosity biting at you.
"For one, you aren't stuck up and preppy which is most the girls on this island," He grinned as you giggled.
"Ay, they aren't all like that," You replied.
"Most of 'em," He added, "But I don't pay much attention to them,"
"Figures," You said, eyebrow raising.
He saw your eyes move the keg and his cup before he offered his cup forward.
"Might as well take mine, I wouldn't feel proud of myself if I let you pour one yourself," He winked.
Great attempt at being a gentlemen.
"No no, I got it," You said before he shook his head.
"I insist" He said, his thumb grazing yours.
"Thank you," You smiled, "I'm Y/N" You introduced, taking the cup from him while extending your other hand for him to shake.
He shook your hand, "I'm Rafe," He replied with a smile as yours slowly fell.
The Rafe? The Rafe you were basically supposed to never interact with and who was the supposed devil? That Rafe?
"Rafe Cameron?" You asked, standing frozen.
"Guess my reputation precedes me," He joked as you didn't laugh but instead cleared your throat.
You took your hand back quickly, "Oh, i-it's nice to meet you," You cleared your throat, "My friends are waiting so I'm gonna-"
He clearly figured you out, "Pogue, I'm guessing?" He snickered.
Your face wrinkled, "Is that supposed to be a funny thing?"
"Hilarious actually," He answered, only angering you more.
"I don't see what's funny about that?" You crossed your arms with ur drink resting in your hand.
He wiped his jaw, "Must be tough at the bottom of the food chain,"
Your nose flared, "Must be tough being an elite asshole,"
He laughed, "I just think it's an unfortunate cause, I mean it's just unlucky," He smirked.
Asshole.
"Unlucky?" Your lip pursed, " I think what's more unlucky is thinking that your cool for a fucked up economic status that has been perpetuated on an island,"
"I just don't believe your friends belong on Outer Banks," He said, not a hint of hesitance in his voice.
He really believed in this bullshit.
"I mean you would really rather hang out with a group of dirty Pogues?" He snickered, looking off.
"Well I am one of them and they are my friends," You scoffed, "You seem more dirty than us," You insulted.
"Is that so?" Rafe mocked.
"Do you wanna talk about your father's dirty money?" You asked.
"I would watch that pretty mouth," He replied, inching closer.
"Or what?" You hummed, acting braver than you usually would.
"Fuck around and find out sweetheart," He came closer, breath fawning on your face.
The whiskey on his breath kissed your nose but not breaking your eye contact with him as you inched closer, eyes on his lips.
As he tried to close the gap, you threw the drink in his face. "Oohs" and snickers filled around the both of you as you stomped away from him.
He smirked, wiping the alcohol off of his face.
'What an asshole,' You thought,
Little did you know that Rafe only grew to like you more.
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You found JJ and Kie sitting by the beach together as she laid her head on his shoulder. You were thinking about interrupting them but tarnish their moment, you choosing instead to call it a night and also you didn't feel like trying to find the rest of the group.
You were glad that you knew yourself enough to drive to the party considering that you got tired fast. You couldn't really see in the parking lot due to how dark it was and away from the lights.
You digged in your back pocket for your phone to pull out of the flashlight as you reached for your keys but dropped them instead in the process.
You audibly groaned as you searched on the floor in the darkness for the keys. You went on your knees with your flashing light, searching on the ground as you heard footsteps behind you, darting your flashlight behind you but seeing nothing.
You had a bad feeling but you thought it was paranoia because you were alone in the parking lot and maybe a little due to the interaction you had earlier with Rafe.
You couldn't stop thinking about how he came off as nice but switched so quickly into an elitist piece of shit.
Sounds like how they described him.
But still, there was a pit in your stomach that felt like butterflies when he grazed your thumb.
You sighed, pushing the thoughts out as you finally grabbed your keys, using the concrete-sanded floor push yourself back up off the ground.
Suddenly, you felt a cloth on your mouth and a hand covering your waist as your muffled screams filled the parking lot, trying to kick your attacker behind you.
You felt yourself drifting into the darkness as you screamed one last time,
And everything went black.
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tags: @hysteriahall @avengersassemblee @lighttism @whereismymindnow @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @vi06ma01 @haven247 @vanessa-rafesgirl @blvebanisters @riordanness @aleidag1rly @muzanjackson22
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iovesia · 4 months
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𐚁֙࿐ MEET THE WICKS.
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keanu mlist.⠀ 𑇓 ⊹ ᳝ ࣪ ⠀boyfriend's dad!john wick⠀𝑥⠀f!reader.
synopsis. fucking your boyfriend's dad was surely one way to leave a good first impression.
contents. cheating all around. everyone sucks here. ooc!john. large age gap (20s/40s). non-john wick universe au. outdoor sex. size difference. tummy bulge. 4.4k words.
⋆ 𓂃 ゚ .⠀josie's little note: hello hello ! a happy new years to you guys, and here's a gift! i haven't been terribly active lately, i know— so hopefully this makes up for it ♡ haven't written a proper fic in ages so i kinda of hate this ://
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“MY PARENTS ARE GONNA LOVE YOU.” 
You side eye your boyfriend at his reassuring smile, his hand on the wheel as the two of you drive further up the mountain to his parent’s home. You finally worked up the courage to meet your boyfriend, Michael’s parents. Having procrastinated this moment for almost two years, Michael finally wore you down to saying yes.
The rows of thick, dark trees trapped the two of you on this thin road up the mountains. Pearly white snowflakes float gently down on your window, your chilled breath creating a small fog as you reach to turn the heat up in the vehicle.
“Your parents are gonna think you fell and hit your head,” you roll your eyes. 
“Oh c’mon!” Michael tuts, letting out a little huff. His eyes focused heavily on the road ahead, turning the wheel as the car took a left. “You’re way too hard on yourself.”
Truth be told you could’ve gone your whole life without meeting his parents. The prestiges Wicks. Michael was not the son of any run of the mill family, but rather the son of two CEOs of the largest cybersecurity companies in the world, while all your achievements were golden-sticker-on-a-piece-of-homework level at best.
“Says the kid of billionaires,” you say dismissively.
“Millionaires,” he corrects cheekily, earning a playful punch to the arm. “Baby, you gotta relax.. I love you, so by default my parents will love you too— or at least be nice enough to pretend.”
“Not funny, Michael,” your little whines turn into a soft laugh as your boyfriend chuckles. The two of you continue the drive up to Michael’s parents home. You two engage in nonchalant conversation that was periodically interrupted by a series of texts. Occasionally glancing over to Michael’s phone, you see the name “Maggie” popping up.
The hairs on your neck stand up, and your palms sweat onto the leather seat, but Michael’s soft smile reassures you .. a little.
Hours go by before he finally pulls up to the home and your jaw drops. Your eyes meet the sight of the gorgeous villa, decked with greystone walls with a light wooden trim. A small cobblestone bridge that goes over the infinity pool, leading to the large front door with crystal clear windows. This isolated winter wonderland of a villa (that Michael downplayed heavily— the ever humble man he is) was to be your home for Christmas. 
“Michael! This place is—”
“Smaller than the one in Italy, but my mother wanted something cozy.”
Your eye twitches a little at how dismissively he talks about this house. His nonchalant demeanour as he parks his car in the driveway of a home you’d never even be able to afford a fraction of. You simply nod, then unbuckle your seatbelt.
Ping.
You glance down at Michael’s hand, which quickly flips the phone face down. 
“Pretty popular, huh?” You joke half-heartedly, trying to probe a reaction. Michael smiles at you, shrugging his shoulders. Noticing his shoulders tense up, you try to ignore the pit in your stomach. The two of you get out of the car and unload your suitcases.
Each step across the small bridge and to the front door felt in slow motion, your heartbeat thumping your ears.
“You’re gonna be fine, baby,” Michael reassures, before ringing the doorbell.
Beat.
Beat.
Beat.
Click.
The heavy slategray door glides open slowly, and your fake smile plasters on at the sight of Michaels’ parents. Helen Wick, a graceful woman in her late 30’s. Her flat ironed brunette hair hugged her soft face, and her smile accentuated the faint laugh lines.
On the other hand, her husband John, the older of the pair, stood stoically. His black hair, and black eyes matched with his simple black slacks and button up protruded his muscles. His dark aura almost sucked the light out the area as he stood tall next to his happy wife. Helen’s hazel eyes meet yours as she hides her surprise with a plastic grin.
“Oh Mikey… she’s beautiful!” Helen exclaims, her voice a little pitched. 
Michael nudges your shoulder as Helen wraps her arms around you, giving you a stiff hug. You could smell the expensive Chanel No 5 from her neck, and the Michael Kors blouse was silk and soft against your hands as you hugged her back. Mr. Wick, remaining unimpressed as ever, simply watched the interaction unfold.
This was gonna be a long Christmas.
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Dinner was painfully awkward. The scratching of gold silverware on the rare china plates filled the air. Inside their villa was just as impressive as the out. The warm lights of the christmas decor and the glorious christmas tree illuminated the luxurious dining room. You rest your elbow on their mahogany table, calmly taking a bite of your roasted turkey.
“Elbows, dear,” Helen hums from across from you, her tone almost motherly. Glancing down at your elbow, you flush embarrassed as you lean back against your chair. Michael sips his wine next to you, sighing at his mother’s uptight behaviour. 
John seems to be the quietest of them all, although you can feel his intense stare from across the table. The older man intimidates you to no-end, and some part of you is desperate to earn some form of approval from him. You always liked a challenge.
“So..” Helen breaks the silence again, clearing her throat. The light shines on her expensive bracelets and rings that adorn her hand as she sets her fork and knife down. “Tell us how you met our Michael.”
Michael and you share a glance, and he subtly urges you to speak. You smile softly, sipping your liquid courage before speaking. “We met at the diner I work at. Michael was always a regular, and refused to let anyone but me serve him,” You giggle at the memory, and Michael blushes.
“You’re a waitress?” John chimes in. You swallow at how low and husk his voice was, and you finally meet his dark orbs piercing into you. Like a little ant under a magnifying glass; his simple question felt like a heavy exam, and you were determined to pass.
“Yes.. It’s called Daisy’s Diner on Victory Boulevard” You furrow your brows, a little confused. “Didn’t Michael tell you..?”
“He led us to believe you owned a diner.. Not working in one..” John hums, seemingly returning to his unaffected attitude. Your lips are slightly parted in surprise, and heat rushes to your cheeks as you side eye Michael. He avoids your gaze, focusing down at his plate. 
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“You told them I owned a food chain?” You huff, annoyance dripping in your voice. The dinner lasted for what seemed forever before the sun finally set and each couple retreated to their respective bedrooms. “Michael, what the hell?”
“It’s not a big deal,” Michael rolls his eyes, fluffing up one of the pillows. He rubs his eyes tiredly, and you can tell he’s getting agitated. “It’s fine— they didn’t mind.”
“Oh really?” You scoff, putting your silk pyjamas shorts on. “He led us to believe you owned a diner.. Not working in one..” you mock John’s voice, making your own deep and nasally. 
“My dad does not sound like a nasally Christopher Walken, but okay,” Michael snorts at your impersonation. You toss a pillow at him, hitting his chest.
“Not the point, Michael! You were supposed to be on my side, you just fed me to the wolves!”
“Grow up— you had an awkward conversation with my parents, it wasn’t the end of the world!”
“The whole point of this weekend was to get them to like me! You just sat there cutting your turkey into a million pieces!” The air in the room was thick with tension, the two of your moods souring as your voices raise. You wished your boyfriend had a spine, and he wished you didn’t have one. Letting out another huff, you grab your toiletries purse and head to leave the bedroom to go brush your teeth.
The brightly lit home was now dark and empty, aside from the moonlight shining in through the bright windows. You glance out, and see the snow top mountains faded behind a thick fog as you walk down the hall; feet padding softly on the cold wood.
When you finished in the bathroom, you were hardly paying attention as you opened the door, eyes half shut. Your face instantly pummels into something hard, making your eyes blink rapidly. A quiet hmph can be heard above you, and your eyes dart up to meet John’s. He stood there blankly, wearing nothing but his briefs.
Your face flushed with utter humiliation and you turned your head away. “Sorry— um— I didn’t see you—”
“Wrong bathroom.”
“Huh?” You raise a brow.
“You’re in my wife and I’s bathroom,” He repeats slowly, his tone slightly condescending. His chest rises as he takes a breath, and you can help but watch each muscle that twitches; feeling your throat go dry. You get lost in analysing the tattoos on his arms and shoulders that were so well hidden by his button up. 
“Oh..” you clear your throat, snapping out of it. “Sorry.. Michael told me this was the guest one..”
“Michael tells you a lot of things that are not true it seems,” John hums, a curious look on his face.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
No reply.
John simply shrugs, and shifts to the side, allowing you to pass him and you can’t help but take a peek at his toned back. For an older man, he seemed to take care of his body well. His defined muscles, covered in ink of religious tattoos and Latin proverbs, intrigued you to find out more. 
“It’s rude to stare,” his deep voice is in a low whisper as he shuts the bathroom door behind him, not even glancing back at you. Embarrassed and fascinated, you hurry back to yours and Michael’s room where you find him already asleep, his mouth open wide as he snores. His typically irritating habits of snoring loudly and taking up space seemed to be the least of your concerns as your mind is flooded with images of his father.
His father’s voice.. His father’s tattoos.. His father’s v-line that disappeared under his briefs.. 
You were too distracted to even notice Maggie had texted again.
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The following days leading up to Christmas were suffocating to say the least. Unless Helen was there to kindly offer comedic relief or keep John occupied— it was as though you were constantly invigilated. Any anecdotes you told, the way you skied when the four of you went, how much or how little PDA you showed Michael: it was one big test, and you were failing, hard. 
You had no clue why you were desperate to please Michael’s father. Helen was easy enough to win over.. Perhaps it’s just the masochist in you, but his condescending words began to make you bashful, rather than embarrassed.
Michael’s been aware of your strange behaviour but can’t seem to put his finger on it. Worst part was you knew why he was suspicious— he was projecting. It seemed this trip to get you closer with his parents, ended up straining your own. 
“She’s a co-worker— fuck— I can’t keep explaining this to you!” Michael snaps defensively.
“Lower your voice— your parents are right there!” You hiss. The two of you stand outside on the back patio of the villa. Flames from the fireplace crackle, leaving an orange hue on both your faces. The sound of soft wind and smell of dinner oozing from the inside almost created a romantic atmosphere.
Had it not been for Maggie.
“What kind of co-worker texts you on PTO?” You whisper shout. Michael groans, rubbing his eyes as he turns away from you. “She’s been texting you everyday since this trip and it’s not the first time.”
“I’m busy— I work a lot. It’s probably about a project,” your boyfriend replies, almost being unconvincing on purpose. “You’re so goddamn nosy.”
“Nosy? I’m here meeting your parents and you’re probably sexting some random girl right now.”
“She’s not some random fucking girl.”
Your face drops. Your brows furrow together, the anger fading into a gentle hurt. The silence is deafening, and there’s zero remorse in Michael’s eyes for what he’s saying. A stunning realisation sets in that this Maggie is no longer just a notification you notice on his screen— but an actual person who Michael might harbour actual feelings for.
“Michael?” You ask quietly. "Who is she?"
Michael runs his hand through his hair, lips pursed as a sharp sigh escapes. His head hands low, rubbing the bridge of his nose. Agitation fills his figure to the brim, and another pregnant pause occurs. You pinch your thumbnail into your palm, anxiously waiting for his next word.
It never comes.
Michael just mutters to himself as he walks off the patio back inside, sliding the glass door shut loudly. You stand there in the cold, desolate quiet. A thousand thoughts running through your head, but your body stood still— unmoving. What felt like minutes, was hours as the lights inside the villa eventually turned off.
You sat on one of the lounge chairs in a small ball, knees to your chest and your stare fixated on the flames flickering. The ember fire warms your body, but can’t reach your frozen heart. For a strange reason.. Your eyes were dry, your lips weren’t trembling. Rather than a wave of sadness or betrayal— there’s a black hole, numbing you from the inside out. 
“(Y/N)?”
Turning your head to the side, you hear the glass door slide open and a tall silhouette emerges from the darkened villa. The moonlight glowed on his face, his black t-shirt and pyjamas sweats only accentuating his pale figure. 
“Hello.. Mr. Wick,” You clear your throat, pulling your knees closer to your chest. His faint footsteps become louder as he walks over to you, his looming shadow dimming the fireplace for a second before sitting next to you.
Here he was. The man who shamelessly steered clear of you like water and oil. The man who squinted his eyes at every word you said. The man who was now sitting right next to you in the dead of night.. His legs manspreading a little too close for comfort.
Your leg twitches a little, either from pure anxiety or the Vermont air breezing past your almost bare skin. Perhaps a thin Henley shirt and jeans were not the best choice of clothing, you scold yourself. 
Occasionally you glance over at the older man, who simply sits hunched over, his elbows resting on his knees with his fingers interlocked with each other. The gold of his wedding ring glowed like a red warning sign. You were surrounding an intimate fireplace inches away from a married man— your boyfriend’s married father. 
“So um—”
“You alright?”
He cuts your sentence off as usual.. But there was a sincerity in his question, albeit his blank expression. Your face softens with genuine surprise, and you scratch your arm, adjusting your sitting position. 
“Yeah, I’m fine,” you lie.
“Fine with the way Michael talks to you?”
Biting the inside of your cheek, you shrug. The lines of appropriate conversation topics began to blur, and you worry that trash-talking your boyfriend to his father was definitely crossing something.
“I apologise for his behaviour.” This dude’s a fucking paradox.
“What?”
“Helen and I never raised Michael to raise his voice at a woman, let alone curse at you. And for that I apologise,” John repeats blankly. His amiable words were dampened by his impassive body language and tone. 
Was he serious? Was it sarcasm? Was it a test for your reaction?
“Thank you” was your safe option, and he nods at your reply, still not even looking your way. Your leg continues twitching anxiously— and this he notices.
“Cold?” John asks.
“What?”
“Your leg.”
Like an obedient pet, you stop your twitching immediately. You hug yourself a bit, leaning back against the lounge couch, trying to create some distance. John mimics your movements, letting out a soft sigh as he does so. As he rolls his shoulders back— a soft crack hissing— his left arm lifts and reaches back, wrapping around your shoulders.
Eyes widened. Heart beating. Throat dry.
This was definitely crossing the line.
“Mr. Wick—” 
“John.”
Chewing your bottom lip anxiously, you shift in your seat again, but his arm remains firm around your shoulders, gently pulling you against his side.
“John..” the name feels foreign on your tongue. “What are you doing?”
“You can do better than Michael.”
His words almost make you chuckle— if it wasn’t for your chest tightening. Your brows snap together as you look at him, full of confusion. The entire week you spent trying to impress, and show you were good enough for Michael son— only to be met with such.. Praise? Could you even call it that?
“You’re kidding, right?”
“You don’t think so?”
“Well..” you pause, repeating the phrase in your head over and over. “You spent this past week completely tearing me down, and mocking me.. Where’s all this coming from now?” Tenacity laced in your voice, and for the first time, John’s pink lips pull into a small smile.
“So just because I’m not explicitly praising your every movement means I’m tearing you down? Are you truly that desperate for me to approve of you?” John licks his teeth, a rare chuckle leaving his mouth. Heat rushes to your face at his taunt. 
“I don’t need your approval..” you weakly defend. John tilts his head slightly, his dark eyes surveying you before leaning back. You’re almost disappointed at his retrieval of his arm, letting your warm skin cool down. 
“You have it.”
If you jaw wasn’t dropped already, it was on the floor by now. 
“You’re nice girl, and you're humble. A diner is hard, honest work. I wasn’t born the boss— everyone has to start somewhere, and I respect that.”
“So why act so.. disappointed?” You stammer, eyes blinking rapidly. 
“I was disappointed my son had the balls to lie to me,” John clears his throat. “Lied about where you work, when you met.. He was born with a golden spoon in his mouth, of course he doesn’t respect you.”
He doesn’t respect you.
“... He loves me,” you whisper, almost in denial. But deep down in your frozen heart, you knew the truth. All the arguments, the dismissive tone, the hiding were physical proof right in front of your nose.
“That’s not the same thing,” John hums. “He’s cursing you out at his parent’s home— my home— I can only imagine what else he must be doing.”
You don’t know the half of it, is what you wanted to say. But for the sake of not burning bridges, you kept your lips shut. Suddenly, the pad’s of John's finger brush a strand of hair from your face. His touch was electric. Warm. Intoxicating. Merely a bristle of his touch made your chest tighten.
"Michael was right about one thing.. You are beautiful.”
Before you could come to your senses, your soft lips were enraptured with eyes. He swallows your little squeal of surprise, and your back meets the arm of the couch. A ringing echoes in your ear, like a bomb going off. Your boyfriend’s father.. had just made a move on you.
And you like it.
His tongue slips past your lips, meeting yours. You feel his warm big hand cupping at your hip, the other slipping under your thigh to lay you down better on the couch. His taller frame was much bigger now that it hovered over you, keeping you firmly pinned. 
“J-John— stop— we can’t!” You manage to pull your face to the side, your lips leaving his. “Your wife— and my boyfriend— your son are right upstairs! Their rooms are right—”
“So you better be quiet then.”
His firm tone sends shivers down your spine, and you were once again suffocated with his lips. The sound of your jeans unbuttoning hits your ears and you realise there’s no turning back. Your mind flashes with moments of this week where you ogled his body. 
No longer were your dreams of his tough hands, his manly shoulders or deep voice just a distant fantasy.. but now a reality. You let out a sharp gasp, when you feel pressure on your nub. His sneaky fingers managed their way under your thin panties. His painstakingly slow circles had you squirming like a puppy.
John chuckles at your needy little whines, looking down at your face and watching as it twists into growing pleasure. Ignoring the cold mountain wind, the two of you are quick to shred your pants, drinking in the absolute tabooness of the situation.
Your nails dig into couch pillows, your leg resting over his shoulder. John hisses softly, his large tip barely kissing your entrance. Your eyes trail away from his gorgeous face up to the open window on the second floor. The lights were off, and a small pit of guilt filled your stomach. But soon to be filled with something else, when John suddenly leans in, letting his tip slide past your folds.
“Fuck—” You bite your lip hard. A baritone chuckle echoes through the empty patio and he continues to slowly slide in, stretching your tiny hole out to the brim. The wind promptly knocked out your lungs as your eyes almost rolled back. 
“Look at you.. taking it all in like a good little girl,” John taunts but it only makes you throb, clenching tight around him. You blink rapidly trying to focus, but his mocking coos only fluster you more. “Oh.. someone’s enjoying this.. You like when I praise you, don’t you?”
His hips begin at a gradual pace, and you slap your hand over your mouth, desperately trying to swallow your moans and whimpers. John’s longish black hair was covering most of his face, as he leaned down. Your knee was almost to your face, and you whine at the burn in your legs.
“Y-Yes— I do—” You admit bashfully. Thrust by thrush, his hips rut faster and faster against your small frame. The sound of his heavy balls hitting the curve of your ass were so sinful and sticky, and you feared Helen or Michael hearing you two. 
“So desperate to make a good impression..” John’s hand rests above your pussy, completely fixated on the small bump his large cock is causing. His tip kisses your cervix as he fills your spongy walls, a thin white ring forming at the base. “...that you’re slutting yourself out to a man twice your age.”
His mean tone and jeering words make your eyes water with humiliation, but your moans sing a different tune. John lets out a groan as your cunt flutters around him, shifting his grip to your waist, and his fingers pinching painfully.
“Such a filthy little girl..” he coos in your ear. You squeal girlishly against your hand, biting down on your finger. John drinks in the teary look in your doe eyes, the way they almost roll back in pleasure. Your soft lips around your finger, as you clamp down hard when he begins to toy with your breast. “With such pretty tits— and such soft skin.”
John’s head dips down, his lips wrap around one of your nipples and you let out a loud cry. He’s quick to bite when you slip up and start making too much noise. The feel of his tongue swirling your bud, and his cock plunging in and out of you was too much, and the knot in your belly tightened.
“Ohmygod— fuck—” You whisper and pant as quietly as you can. John laughs against your skin, his hands like magic as they hit every button that makes you squeal. 
“Baby needed a real man to make her feel good, hm?” John asks rhetorically and you nod hurriedly through tears, as you lie a babbling mess under his powerful stature. He continues fucking you relentlessly, each thrust beginning to bruise your poor pussy. 
“D-Don’t stop— please— ohgod—” You stammer and sob.
John leans back up, but keeps your thigh pressed to your chest with his hand. Running another hand through his black locks, and wiping the sweat off his hairline, he groans harshly. The bulge in your stomach popping up and down kept the blood rushing to his cock.
“Gonna cum inside— make you all nice and full,” He pants. “You want that, hm?”
“Yes— yes please— please—” You don’t even care how pathetic you sound. How needy you sounded. Like all sound of mind flew out the window the moment you came here. The moment he even wrapped his arm around you. 
His abs contort and his thrusts began to get sloppier. He gripped your soft hips like a vessel, like he owned you. John grins devilishly at your pretty little cries and pleas, enjoying how much you craved him.
“God you make the prettiest noises— all for me, hm? Just for me,” John hisses, snapping his hips faster against you as his fingers work skillfully on your bundle of nerves, sending waves through your trembling legs. 
You let out an embarrassingly loud squeal, wallens tightening around his thick girth when you feel climax approaching. He shoots ropes of his warm seed inside you, filling you to the brim.
The air is filled with the sound of your weak moans and his quiet pants. Your bodies drenched in sweat, and the Vermont wind is painfully cold now as the passion fades. The thirst of desperation was now quenched with guilt and horror as you realised what you’ve done.
John returns to his blank expression, pulling out of you with a sloppy sound. You wince when his fingers wipe your sensitive folds, collecting his cum on his fingers as he pushes it back inside you. “These pillows are expensive.”
You lie there in shock at how nonchalantly he behaves: like he didn’t just ravage his son’s girlfriend on the couch, leaving her covered in lovebites and full of warm cum. You watch as he tucks himself back into his sweats, and heads back inside the villa.
Soon enough you follow suit, and dress yourself to come back inside. The house was dark and empty, presumably everyone was asleep at this point. You tiptoe to your room with Michael, and thankfully he lies snoring away— unaware what you just committed.
You change into fresh panties and pyjamas, feeling John’s sticky cum on your thighs as it leaks out of you. The betrayal and sin leaks from your skin as you climb into bed, and guilt drips from your pores when Michael wraps his arm around you. 
Guilt that you wish it was John’s arm instead.
Fin.
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miniwheat77 · 7 months
Text
Spontaneous Sex HC’s (141 & König.)
!CW! NSFW, Smut, unprotected p in v sex, rough sex, (sorry if I missed any.)
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Captain Price:
John was not really a spontaneous man, he liked to plan everything out. He was romantic and anytime you were intimate, he took his time with you. He loved foreplay and always prepared you for him.
But after a frustrating day of work, all he wanted to do was go home and go to bed. He walked into your shared home, you were lying in bed watching a show. He climbed right on top of you. “Hey, is everything okay?” He doesn’t respond. Only tugs at his waistband. “John, you still have your boots on honey. You’re going to get the bed-“ he clamps a hand over your mouth, tugging your shorts to the side and burying himself right inside of you. He groans out, starting to thrust himself inside of you. His belt rattles each time he thrusts, pants leaving both of your mouths. You look up at him and he’s got a dark look in eyes, something you’ve never seen before. Neither of you last long, the spontaneity of him doing it has you soaking him in just a few minutes. When he finishes, he relaxes on top of you, panting. All of the tension he felt throughout the day is gone. All because of you.
“I’m sorry.” He breathes. Resting his forehead against yours. “For what?” You giggle. “For being rough with you. I just had a bad day at work and you were laying here looking so pretty.” He sighs. “John. I liked it.” You laugh. “You can take your frustration out on me anytime you want.” You smile, cheeks brightening from how straight forward he had been with you. “Are you.. blushing?” He smiles. Your smile only grows wider. “Oh fuck off.” You push him by his chest. “Haven’t seen you blush in years darling, why’re you blushing?” He teases. “I don’t know, I just liked that.” He leans down to kiss you. “Yeah, me too.”
“Have to do it more often.”
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Ghost:
Simon was not exactly what you expected when it came to sex. He was always slow and soft, hated the idea of hurting you in any way. When he was frustrated from work he usually just wanted to be left alone. You always asked him if he could be a tad bit more rough and he said he’d always try but never really did. Maybe he was always so rough with everyone else he didn’t want to be, and you weren’t going to make him.
You were cutting up some vegetables for dinner, Simon was supposed to be home about half an hour ago. Sometimes he was late getting home but that usually meant something had probably gone wrong that held him back. You didn’t hear the door open, you didn’t hear him come inside. You felt eyes glaring into your back but ignored it. He moved closer, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you back into him. A gasp leaves your lips. “Simon!” You giggle. “You can’t sneak up on me like that.” You breathe. He doesn’t say a word, attacking your neck with kisses, nibbling at your skin. “Simon..” you breathe. You’re wearing shorts, which are easy for him to pull to the side. While he was kissing you, he’d worked his cargo pants down far enough to expose his cock. He grasps your leg, propping it up onto the counter. “S-Simon- what are you doin-“ a gasp leaves your lips when he buries himself to the hilt inside of you, reaching around you to rub circles into your clit. You moan out, clutching hard at the countertop as he fucks into you. He’s rough, moving his hips at a fast pace. He’s gritting his teeth hard, breathing hard into your ear.
Your legs shake, knees getting weak but he holds you up, keeping up his bruising pace. “Can feel you.. so tight on me.” He growls. “You can cum for me. Go ahead.” He keeps rubbing at your clit. A cry leaves your lips and he fucks you through your orgasm. A groan leaving his lips when he finally reaches his own orgasm. Filling you up completely before sliding out of you. He takes a second, breathing hard and resting his forehead against your back before pulling your leg down, spinning you around so that he could kiss you.
He’s still got his mask halfway on, pulled up to the bridge of his nose. You’re quiet, just staring at him. “You okay?” He pants. The tight black shirt he has on leaving little to the eyes. You nod your head. “Why’re you looking at me like that? I didn’t hurt you did I?” You shake your head quickly. “No. Not at all.” His brooding demeanor finally cracks and he smiles. “Fucked you too good, did I?” He can see a smile tugging at your lips, the lobes of your ears reddening. You spin around before he catches you, but it’s too late. His slow footsteps are intimidating as he moves toward you. Wrapping his arms around your waist once again.
“You can’t hide your pretty face from me. M’gonna go shower and than I’ll be back for more.” He mumbles, sending chills up your spine.
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Soap:
When Johnny had a bad day at work, it was usually a rough day at home. He was good at poking you too much when he was in a bad mood, usually until you got mad at him. But this time, he’d pissed you off long before he’d got home.
It started when you asked him what he wanted for dinner and he’d left you on read for a few hours. When he finally responded you were already a little annoyed. He said he didn’t care. So you decided to make something you liked. When he got home, he saw you sitting on the couch. He was late and dinner was already packed away in the refrigerator. “Hey. What did you make?” He asks. “Oh, I made stir fry.” You look at him. Seeing him scrunch his face up annoyed you even more. But this wasn’t new.
He walks near you, sitting down next to you. He picks up the remote, changing the channel. “Johnny, are you serious? I was watching that.” You scoff. “What? I don’t get what I want. Neither do you.” He’s trying to piss you off on purpose. “I literally asked you what you wanted. It’s your fault.” You roll your eyes. You stand up, going to your bedroom to watch something else. You pick up the remote, turning on your show. Pretty soon, you hear his footsteps coming toward your room. When he walks in, you look up at him as he moves toward your bed. “So help me god if you come in and change my show I’ll ring your ne-“ he cuts you off by pressing his hand against your throat, moving himself on top of you and kissing you hard. You want to put up a fight, push him off. But your body gives into his right away, melting into him. He rocks his hips into yours, feeling you moan into his lips. He pulls away to tug his pants down his thighs, tugging your bottoms down your legs. “Johnny, what’s gotten into y-“ a gasp leaves your lips when he wastes no time to thrust right into you, cutting you off.
He kisses you again, clenching his eyes closed at the way you feel on him. No matter how many times the two of you slept together, he’d never get used to how good you feel. He grips your wrists hard, holding them above your head. It doesn’t take long, he can feel you getting tighter on him, starting to hear how much more wet you’re getting for him. “Oh fuck-“ he gasps. You can feel him throbbing inside of you, he’s close too. “Johnny!” You gasp, you let your head rest back on the pillows, giving yourself to him completely. You fall apart, orgasm shaking through you. He groans out, hitting his high just as you do. He’s panting hard, body finally relaxing from the tough day he’d had.
He slides out of you, laying next to you with a groan. You stay quiet, cheeks burning bright from how forward he had been with you. “M’sorry lass.” He breathes. “It’s okay.” You breathe. “Do.. you want me to make you something else?” You swallow hard. This sends him into a fit of laughter. “That’s all it takes huh?” He teases, making you roll your eyes at him.
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Gaz:
Gaz was a sweetheart. Through and through he was always sweet and when he was in a bad mood, it never lasted. He always tried to leave work at work, didn’t want to bring his stress home, but tonight. He just couldn’t bare it. It was a miserable day from the start and he’d gotten his ass chewed by Price for something he didn’t even do, which had him even more mad. He wanted to be at home with you, no matter what.
When he got home, he heard you in the kitchen. It sounded like maybe you were doing dishes but he didn’t really care. “Hey.” You turned to smile at him. “Hey babe.” He sighs, pulling you in for a hug. “You alright?” You look up at him. He nods. “It’s been a day.” He laughs. “You want to watch a movie with me? It’ll get your mind off everything.” You look up at him. “Yeah sure, what are you doing in here Hm?” He asks. “I was just cleaning up. There’s a plate for you in there and I picked up some beer for you because I seen you were out.” You smile. “Thank you. You’re so sweet.” He laughs.
After eating and drinking most of his beer, he’s finally calm. Sitting on the couch near you.
He’s eyeing you, you’ve got a pair of shorts on which exposes your thighs to him. He’s not usually so easily riled up like this but there’s something about you being so nice to him. “You know, you’ll make a great housewife.” He smiles. You turn to look at him. “What?” You laugh. “Just thinking about it. You know. You do so much for me.” He shrugs. You tilt your head slightly. “Where’s this coming from Kyle?” You laugh. “I just think we should get married, have kids.” He shrugs. “Think you’d make a real pretty mum.” He smirks. He’s moving closer to you, throwing an arm over you. “I think you’d make a really handsome dad too.” You laugh. He rests his hand on your thigh, sliding it up higher. Your eyes widen slightly and you look up at him with a smile. “Did something happen?” You ask nervously.
He sits up slightly, moving toward you. “No.. just.. you look too good.” He breathes. He grasps your legs, pulling you down the couch and moving himself between your legs, leaning down to kiss you. You moan into his lips when he brushes his fingertips over your opening, tugging your pajamas down your legs and sliding into you before you even have time to react. You gasp against him, eyes going wide as he starts to thrust inside of you. “Gonna look so pretty with my babies inside you.” He breathes. You glance between the both of you, seeing him slide in and out of you quickly. He grips your hips harder, being more rough with you. “Oh f-fuck Kyle!” You gasp.
It doesn’t take long until you’re soaking him and squirming from the way he overstimulates you. Groaning out when he reaches his high, filling you up just like he said he was going to. You’re looking at him, he’d thrown you into a daze.
He relaxes back into the couch, breathing hard.
“You alright?” He asks. “Uh.. yeah. Just... didn’t expect that.” You laugh. He smiles. “Cmon, let’s go shower.” He grasps your hand.
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König:
König may be a beast of a man, but he’s a giant sweetheart when it comes to you. You brought out the best of him and he was always gentle with you, always.
Sometimes when it came to sex, he lost himself a little bit. He was a little rough but he always apologized. You of course didn’t mind, but he did. He didn’t like being rough with you. You usually never got under his skin but today was different. You were grouchy and on his ass all day, it was his weekend and he didn’t want to spend it with you being mad at him.
That wasn’t the case. All day long you were on him about something. He forgot to do this, he did that. He was tired of it. You were clearly in a bad mood and nothing he was doing could fix it. He had finally just gotten changed into sweatpants for the day, ready to just spend his day off relaxing and doing nothing. Right as he was about to sit down, you started in. “Did you run by the post office? Your parents said they sent you something.” You mumble. “Not yet.” He mumbles. “König they’ve been waiting a while for a response.”
“Jesus, ich werde es an einem anderen Tag in Angriff nehmen.” He mumbles. Making you narrow your eyes. “I didn’t ask for the attitude.” You roll your eyes. He growls.
He takes one long stride before he’s right in front of you, spinning you around and pushing you down onto the couch. “Ich habe genug davon, dass du dich beschwerst. Das ist genug.” He growls. Your eyes widen. He pushes your shorts to the side, tugging his sweatpants down his legs and lining himself up with your entrance. Your eyes widen when he pushes himself into you. “F-fuck-“ you gasp. His thrusts are ruthless and he fills you up to hilt, bottoming out inside of you. “Is this what you wanted?” He growls. “Gibt mir das den ganzen Tag eine Einstellung, ist das der Grund? Du wolltest das?” He growls.
He holds you still, fucking you deep and hard until you’re a mess beneath him. When he finally cums deep inside of you, you’re quiet.
He pulls out of you, hearing you gasp out. Your pussy is fucked raw and sore from his brutal thrusts. Your cheeks are warm as he sits down on the couch, wiping his cock off as he slides it back into his sweatpants. You’re still completely still. “I wasn’t too rough, was I?” He asks. “Uh.. no. Not at all.” You avoid his eyes. “I gotta go.. yeah.” You mumble. “Hey, wait. I’m sorry.” He breathes. “I didn’t mean to be so mean or rough.” He sighs. “No. You weren’t.” You avoid his gaze. “I liked it.” Your words take him back slightly. Hearing him laugh.
“Than maybe you shouldn’t get cleaned up just yet, Mein böses Mädchen.” He smirks, pushing you back into the couch.
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ellaa-writes · 1 month
Text
Ghost who you met at a club. Maybe it's Johnny's bachelor party or something.
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He hates crowded spaces and loud environments. As soon as he entered through the doors he had to fight the urge to turn back around and walk out. Already itching for a cigarette, Soap led the pack straight to the bar. Ordering a round of shots for the 4 men, John whispering in Ghosts ear about "let him have his fun" and Ghosts hissing back "i ain't baby sittin' his ass". He guesses this is better than the strip club he wanted them to go to first, thankfully Kyle said let's pre-game a little. Ghost hopes that means Johnny'll get to drunk to remember.
Not even an hour in and Soaps already crying about his bride. Ghost pats John on the back and motions for a ciggy. Leaving the two men to calm down Soap. The air in the club was stuffy, but Ghosts nose has been broken too many times to count and doesn't work properly anyways.
"shit" Ghost snaps his head in the direction of you, fumbling with your half broken cigarette, trying to get the damned lighter to work. Sighing loudly he walks over and hands you his already lit cigarette right from his mouth. You hesitantly take it, letting out a quick "thanks". Ghost already had a new one lit for himself before walking back over to his spot.
Crushing the butt under his boots before walking back inside. He finds the table empty but the glasses and jackets still there. Kyle seeks him out, say something about Johnny wanting to dance. So Ghost sits back in the chair, looking at his watch around his thick wrist. Someone plops a tall beer in front of him, looking up to catch the worker about to walk away. He calls out "didnt' order this" the worker shrugs and walks off. He eyes it suspiciously before taking a drink. "sorry, i didn't know what you liked. you seem like a beer guy." it was you again.
Standing next to him awkwardly, shifting from leg to leg. He finally gets a good look at you. Dress to short, nearly riding up your ass, thick thighs on display. Cute little heels, red toe nails. He smirks to himself, gesturing for you to take a seat. "its' all good sweetheart." you blush and tell him your name, "what's yours?" you ask back, "my what?" he teases and you laugh, the noise sending shock waves right to his cock. "your name, what's your name?" he thinks about it a little "Ghost" you raise an eyebrow at him. "Ghost? What kind of name is that?" you laugh again. "what, you don't like it" he pouts. "no, i didn't say that. it's just.... odd". Ghost barks out a laugh, he likes you.. a lot.
"what's got you out here dressed like that." he motions to your too short of dress. You blush again and fidget with the hem of your dress. "friends, girls night i guess." Ghost thinks quick. "well how bout you ditch those friends and come back to mine?" it takes you a second to think about it, slowly nodding you head. "ok". Ghost rising from his seat, pulling you with him. He tucks a hundred into John's coat pocket, not bothering to say goodbye as he drags you out of the club. Lucky for you he drove himself.
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youronlydarlin · 3 months
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What if sleep deprived!reader is doing work late at night again, and what if Price fucks her to sleep ;) ((This has been in my mind for a week now)) (Im using anonymous because Im still shy-)
Hnhhhhh. S' is so fuckin hot nonnie.
warning: fem! reader, kinda brat tamer! Price and a very eepy reader, somewhat dumbification, rough sex to soft sex, somnophilia at the end, not proofread 😢
You know your husband hates it when you stay up late. Moreover if it was work he couldn't convince you to finish in the morning. But were you really to blame here? It's not your fault the deadline got pushed early. Besides, you wouldn't be doing this if you didn't have to.
That was the philosophy you believed in up until your husband came in and decided to put you to bed himself.
You were always so stubborn, but you were adding a whole new flare to it earlier. Making a big show about how "you have to finish the report now, lest you want your boss to beat your ass". And he understands, really, he does. A man with his line of work would understand the calling of responsibility more than anybody. Maybe the late hours of the night has finally gotten into your head. Cause that certainly wasn't an excuse to act up, talking back, and thinking you could banish him to the bed with only the presence of one. No, young lady that attitude will not be tolerated. What happened to his good girl, huh?
But you see, John's always spoiled you. Even during one of your fights, and tantrums. Since you wanted to finish your papers so much John decides to be the bigger person, and give you exactly what. You. Want.
This leads us to now. Both of your wrists are pinned against your back, John using them as nothing but a handle to fuck you back on his fat cock. You feel like a doll, all limp as you're fucked within an inch of your life right by your work desk.
You want to sleep. To slip into dreamland. But the bright light from your opened laptop, paired up with your husbands unrelenting thrusts inside your tight pussy prevents you from even closing your eyes.
Open mouthed, and mindlessly drooling on the papers you were fussing over earlier, John thinks you look best like this. Someone as pretty as you shouldn't be working, much less overexerting herself.
He takes pity on you. His poor, sweet, baby. You're just being forced by your stupid job to comply with even stupider work. Shhh, hush now, sweet thing. Your husband's here to help.
Thrusts slowing down, he gently lets go of both of your wrists. Seeing them carelessly fall to your side makes him coo softly at you. You're being picked up before your mind can even process the action. The blur in your vision makes the colors blend in with each other, and for a moment you see the world like a kaleidoscope.
Fatigue latches onto your bones like a pesky leach. The only thing grounding you is the fat cock nestled within your core. The jostle of a mattress takes you out of your delirium, the softness of silk against your back feels like heaven. What was supposed to be a satisfied sigh quickly turns into a pleasured moan as John gives a shallow thrust into your puffy pussy.
He knows your tired, but he just couldn't help himself. Seeing his princess finally in bed like she deserves. Whining and groaning, you can't eve bring yourself to lift up your arms and tell him to give it a rest. Give you a rest. But, he's doing you a favor can't you see?
John's leaning down in a second, kissing your temple shut. You feel your body slowly succumb to his ministrations. Whispering soft praises into your ear, while he grinds himself aimlessly in your velvet walls.
The feeling of it is oddly more relaxing than stimulating. Eyes closed, you feel powerless even as John slightly picks up his pace. You've accepted defeat, finally falling into the wistful sleep your body has craved. And John thinks you look absolutely breathtaking like this. Always so beautiful without trying. He gets closer and closer to release, using your unconscious body to get himself off. Cumming deep inside of your pretty, princess pussy.
a/n: AHHHHH. M' sorry for only being able to answer your request today nonnie, I know you sent this yesterday 😞 also like. I didn't know if you wanted something soft or rough, so I just added both. Also, this was a lot of fun to write! No pressure on keeping yourself anonymous, jus' know that you can always send in your horny thoughts. N e ways, I hope you enjoyed this! Have a wonderful day/night, my loves!
Yours, truly,
–dolly
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lottie150209 · 1 month
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John Price fingering you in front of the mirror, x afab fem reader, MDNI !!!
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tags: John price smut, Price cod, John price, Captain john price x reader, Captain price, Price x reader, call of duty smut, cod smut, cod price, john price x reader, captain john price
cw: Mirror kink, “Good girl”, reader gets fingered
A/N: Hey everyone! I’m sorry I haven’t really uploaded much life’s been a bit busy!! I’m working on some things rn but the motivation to keep writing is really low but i’ll power through no doubt 👍👍 enjoy!!!! ps: I barley proof read it 😭
John Price was a mad man; a fucking machine. Built like a superhero, covered in dirt with that sexy beard of his but god damn you’d let him do the unspeakable to you.
He could fuck for hours, for nights- you swore if he had enough energy he could go on for days. But one thing he struggled to do was finger you.
You felt a bit embarrassed to ask why as you always assured him it felt good but the disgruntled expression and sigh he makes when he pulls out of you made you worry. You began to wonder if it was something wrong with you and that’s the reason why.
In your head it made sense, him making it plainly obvious he didn’t want to do it every-time it was over but your mind always made something up to contradict your theory.
If he hated it so much why did he enjoy eating you out? Why would he throw you in the bed, staring at your pussy hungry before attacking your clit fast and hard like the military captain he is? And if he hated fingering you so much why did he offer?
Why did he do that?
You stretched your legs out under your office chair before packing your bag and leaving work, on your way home. Tonight was the night you were going to ask him, embarrassing or not. You couldn’t let your dwelling and overthinking cluster up your head any longer, it was time.
You opened the gate to your rustic home and headed for the big door. The house you two had bought was quiet old and elegant and you’d loved it so much, decorating the decaying walls and overgrown garden and making it your own. You loved the style and it made you feel cozy, this was your dream house.
The door shut behind you and the farmilliar scent of vanilla candles and firewood cascaded through the walls as the fire cracked beside you. You hung up your coat and dumped your bag on the floor.
“Baby? Where are you?” You called and after hearing a couple strained grunts you heard Price yell back a ‘Here’ from upstairs. Curiosity flooded your mind and you jogged up the stairs and pushed open your bedroom door to see him crouched on the floor, tool kit sprawled behind him and a screw driver in his hand.
“What the fuck is that?” The laughter of your voice falling through as you store at the mirror nailed to the wall, it was huge. Something out of a ballet studio and you turned back to him, heavy breathing and whipping the sweat off of his pink face.
“Thought you’d like it, pretty big though.” Yeah, just a little. Head to toe taking all the room and right in-front of the bed, how amazing. Cant wait to wake up to my own reflection.
“Doesn’t exactly go with the rustic design of the house does it?” But all he did was laugh and pull you closer, giving you a sloppy but loving kiss on the lips as you tried to wriggle away. His hands clasped around you waist and you remembered what you were going to ask him. Your mouth fell ajar but before you could speak he was dragging along the wide wooden chair to sit on before placing it infront of the mirror and take a seat.
“Want to know what it’s for?” He asked, words laced with something you couldn’t put your tongue on but you hesitantly nodded, wondering why he bought this. It must’ve costed a lot, and it was rather beautiful, it was as clear as glass. Why did he get this.
Price smirked letting a deep chuckle through his tight lips before patting his laps for you to sit. You sat down hesitantly and glacéd in the mirror at you two, his hands around your waist, just above your black skirt and eyes locked onto you. His left hand trailed up towards your neck sending tingles down your body and dampening your panties again. His other creeping closer down and rubbed your thigh soothingly.
“When I finger you love, I struggle a lot. I know you notice and I want to let you know why I struggle.” His hand reached your neck just below your chin and he tilted your neck back so your head laid on his strong shoulder, still looking at yourself in the mirror, with him in control.
"I love to see my fingers inside you, your cum gushing out after i finger you, but i also love to see your little face. Your cute little scrunched eyes, mouth wide open out of pleasure.” You couldn’t fight back the small whimper you let out as his hands on your thigh slowly rose higher, slipping comfortably under your skirt.
“But darling i’m getting old now, aren’t I? It’s too hard to look up then down then up- I miss a few things and I don’t like missing.” His seductive grin send pools of lava to your stomach and your thighs tensed under his hands as his thick fingers grazed the soft fabric of your panties. Teasing you and loving every fucking second.
“But fuck, from this angle? I can see all of you, all of you at once. Your breathing, face, pussy, everything and I love it.” You shut your eyes in embarrassment and you felt your face burn while he slid your underwear down slowly and gently tapped against your precious sensitive skin.
Tracing slowly down your wet slit coating himself in your taste. He groaned at the feeling kissing your temple while his finger prodded into your entrance greedily. Next time he will take his time, next time he will have you begging for his fingers. Next time because god he couldn’t wait now.
The thickness of his finger stretched you out slightly as he thrusted it in and out of you, burning your hole slightly as he added another and another. Your moans and cries send sparks to his dick below you and you felt him harden more and more beneath you- he didn’t stop to fuck you though.
“Oh yeah darling look at you, fucking look at yourself.” His other hand stretched to your chin, tilting your face up and through tears you watched yourself be finger fucked by John. Tightening around his hand more and moaning louder as tears rolled down your cheek.
“Baby I’m going to-” You started but he shut you up shushing you quiet with a small kiss and rapid movements. His husky voice demanding you just to let yourself go.
“Come on, that’s it. Just let it all go, cum on my fingers. Good girl, oh my god you’re such a good girl.” As you came, cum squirting out of your abused hole and dripping down his sticky fingers. Your back arched and your legs started to shake and tremble against him and he just smiled. Pulling out of you and holding you for a moment, licking his fingers clean.
“Was that good darling? I loved it. So much better than usually fingering you.” You breathing calmed down slowly as you shakily nodded. John leant over giving you another loving kiss before chuckling.
“I’ll give you a few minutes to calm down and then we’ll go again, yeah?”
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gh0stlyfixation · 1 year
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5 reasons you’ve cried while pregnant
John Price addition
Simon Riley addition here
Johnny “Soap” McTavish
1. You were very emotional as it was, but now? Four months pregnant it was a rollercoaster ride. Man, what John would do to avoid those tears, you want a cheeseburger from across town and that lemonade only the gas station in the other town had? He’ll get it. But sometimes things can’t be avoided.
You walk in with your shopping bags, eyes full of tears. You drop the bags and catch John's attention from the kitchen only for him to drop what he was doing to rush to you. “What’s wrong baby?” He asks you.
“A little bumblebee died on my car while I was shopping.” You sob, you felt so stupid but you just couldn’t stop crying. John was taken aback not knowing how to respond as he generally rubbed your back to try and console you.
2. You tried, you tried hard not to call John during his debriefing meeting with the team. John checks his phone as he speaks to the team, “hold on guys,” he sighs and walks out. He steps just outside the door keeping it open. “Love?” He asked, he sounds annoyed.
It was only month six, you felt useless and helpless. You heard the annoyance in his tone. You felt even more guilty for calling for such a stupid reason, “never mind. I’m sorry for bothering you.” You say sniffling.
John immediately feels guilty for the way he answered, “no baby, I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to sound mean.” John says quietly as the team watches him through the door.
“I um, I can’t open the orange juice jug and I want the orange juice and I can’t have it.” You ramble crying harder.
He pinches his nose, “the meeting is almost over, I’ll be home soon so you can have your orange juice. Just stay strong. You can do it.” He says making all the men snicker, including Simon. Price hangs up after consoling you some more. “I suggest you shut it. Especially you Simon because not long ago, your petting zoo started.” Price says. All the boys laugh at Simon now, what started as a cat ended up as a baby goat that now rests happily in his house.
3. It was 3 am, your designated snack time. Tonight? Cupcakes WITHOUT the icing, but to your dismay, you didn’t have any cupcakes. Tears, immediately.
You waddled to your bedroom where Price slept soundly (not for long), you shake him awake not being gentle, did you eat my cupcakes!” You yell at him.
He’s half asleep, all he sees is your red face and angry tears streaming down your face. He’s groggy, “I- I don’t know?” He mumbles.
“You ate them!” You cry harder now realizing there weren’t any cupcakes.
“I’ll go to the store, and get you some more!” He says now realizing how dire the situation is. He works in two hours, this isn’t how he wanted to start his day.
“I don’t want icing on them!” You yell at him.
“I’ll eat all the icing, you won’t even notice there was icing!” He says quickly pulling on his shoes.
When he returns home, he sits at the dining table as he eats off all the icing and you sit happily with the naked cupcakes. He glares at you as his stomach starts to ache from all the sugary icing, he hates sugar, but seeing you smile after just screaming at him, he’ll deal with the aches.
4. You starred long and hard at the ground constantly shifting your body around, “what are you doing love?” John smiles as he lifted himself on his elbows on the bed to watch you.
“Can’t see my feet.” Your bottom lip trembled and he sees it through the mirror, he gets up to try and stop the tears, “I’m so fat!” You cry stomping your foot on the ground.
“No love, you aren’t fat! Your growing a tiny human in your belly!” John tries to argue.
“I’m fat!” You say sobbing, pushing him away, “don’t wanna be touched.” You cry even harder.
5. You’ve sent John through the wringer these last few months but month nine? Fuck, it was a challenge. You were angry or horny most of the time, even he couldn’t keep up with your pace.
“Johnn,” you whine, “it hurts.” You sniffle.
“What hurts baby?” He asks rubbing your lower back
“Down there, need you.” You sob into the pillow. Fuck, this was one of the times he loved seeing you cry. Crying for him, “please,” you ask looking up at him with tears running down your face.
“Oh baby, how can I say no to you looking like that?” He asks before lifting your nightgown and diving in.
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long time no sex - jj maybank
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summary - yn goes on vacation for two weeks, leaving jj horny as ever. when she gets back, she makes a decision with john b to try to go as long as possible without doing anything with jj, which she quickly fails.
warnings - full on smut, pet names (baby, babe, darlin’, sweetheart), words such as cock, pussy, shaft and hole are used, jj with a breeding kink?, oral (f given), hand jobs (m given), unprotected sex (WRAP IT BEFORE YOU TAP IT), lil bit of fluff.
a/n - this took me like two days cause i’ve never written full on smut before and i was struggling sm, please lmk what y’all think 🙏
word count - 2,198
post number - 8
reader - she/her, fem.
after a long vacation, yn couldn’t wait to see her boyfriend. the closer john b drove her to the chateau, the more excited she got to see jj.
she’d been gone for two weeks and now she got to see him again.
“yn?” john b broke the silence.
she looked at him, “yeah?”
“please don’t fuck in my house.”
yn made the most shocked face she possibly could, “what- why would we hav- what?!”
“i know you two; you can’t keep your hands off each other for two seconds, and jj has been dying without you here.”
“in what means?”
“he got a hard on from an eighty year old woman picking up her bag that she dropped.” he beat around the bush.
yn snickered, “oh my god! should i make him wait as long as possible just to tease him?”
“yes, definitely. i’ve been meaning to get him back for his pranks recently.”
“you? you’re gonna do the prank?”
john b chuckled, “no but if i agree to it then technically i’m in on it. right?”
“suppose so.”
“i don’t think you’ll be able to go five minutes - either one of you.”
“shut up, jb.”
after another few minutes, they’d finally arrived at the small home, where jj was already waiting on the porch steps. when he saw the van pull up, he immediately jogged over to the passengers side of the van, opening the door to pull his girlfriend out.
he pulled yn towards him as soon as her seatbelt was removed. he pulled her into a hug, as she wrapped her legs around his body.
“hi, baby.” she mumbled into his neck.
jj inhaled yn’s scent, “oh, i’ve missed you so much.”
“i’ve heard.” she looked at him, smirking.
his eyebrows furrowed in confusion, “what?”
“oh, nothing, jb just told me a little something on the ride over.”
he thought for a second, then immediately knew what she meant. he dropped his girlfriend to the floor, only after making sure her feet were on the ground, before turning to john b.
“bro. seriously?”
“it was funny.”
“no, it wasn’t.” jj defended.
“it really was.”
jj turned away, “fuck you, then.”
“aw, poor little baby, jj.” yn teased, “did you get a hard on from someone’s grandma? poor you.”
“i hate you.”
“can we go in now?” john b whined.
and so, the three of them went inside.
for a few hours, yn and jj laid in bed, relaxing, with netflix playing in the background while they conversed. everything was going smoothly until yn made another joke about grandmas.
“fuck you!” jj shouted, pinning his girlfriend down to the bed. yn squealed, trying to wiggle free as the blonde boy held her down by the wrists.
“you wanna carry on?” jj raised his eyebrows.
yn held back her laughter, “no.”
“are you gonna stop now?”
the girl thought for a moment, “no.”
jj got up in yn’s face, “what’s that darling?”
“no.” she got shy, lowering her voice.
“gonna have to do something about that.” their faces were practically touching at this point; they could feel each other’s breath against their skin.
before yn could even reply, jj pressed his lips against his girlfriends, their lips melted together as if it were in their body’s nature to do so.
their lips moved together quickly, but not too quickly. jj’s left hand crept from around yn’s wrist to around her neck, while his other hand slipped down to her thigh.
he gently pressed his hand against her neck - in response, her mouth slightly opened, and a soft whimper came out.
“do that again.” jj whispered into her ear.
“i can’t just make it happen, jj.”
jj moved his lips down from her lips to her neck, nipping at her skin, softly. he knew the response he would get this time - soft, quiet little moans fell from his girlfriends mouth.
his smirk pressed against her collarbone as he left small red marks on her skin. his hands moved to the hem of yn’s shirt.
“can i take this off?” he asked.
“yeah.” she whispered.
without wasting a moment, jj had already taken the girls shirt off and it was now laying on his bedroom floor.
yn’s hand quickly got tangled in jj’s locks as his lips pressed against her breasts.
“jj” she softly bit her lip, holding back a moan.
“good girl.” he praised, “i love your little moans, darlin’, but jb probably wants you to keep quiet. can you do that for me?”
she nodded, getting a soft peck on the lips in return.
jj took his own shirt off, then his shorts, leaving him in nothing but his boxers. by now, jj’s cock pressed against yn’s core, causing a lot of friction. jj removed his lips from around yn’s nipples, going up to her ear.
he nibbled her ear gently, “fuck, you feel what you’re doing to me, sweetheart?”
“fuck me, jj. i can’t wait any longer. it’s been two weeks.”
“tell me about it.” he responded, pulling down his girlfriends jeans, before going to pull off her panties, “this okay?”
“yeah.”
jj quickly discarded of his girlfriends final item of clothing, throwing it onto the floor.
his fingers made their way into his girlfriends pussy, not moving until after he’d spit to make sure it wasn’t going to be uncomfortable, even though she was already wet.
he started with two fingers, slowly pumping them in and out, getting yn’s pussy used to the feeling again. the moans that were now falling from yn’s ears sounded like music to jj’s ears.
jj nipped at yn’s thigh for a moment, leaving another mark, before his tongue made its way to her clit. as his fingers sped up, his tongue was soft, moving up her clit, qs if he was stroking it. as her breathing got heavier, jj sped up his fingers and tensed his tongue slightly, earning godly praise falling from yn’s lips.
“fuck- jj! that feels so good!” one of her hands was tangled in jj’s hair still, while the other was gripping on the bedsheets for dear life.
jj felt yn’s body start to twitch and shake beneath him, hinting that she was close.
waiting for a whimper, which usually let him know she was going to reach her high, he asked, “you close, baby?”
“mhm-“ she whimpered, biting her lip, begging her mouth to stay quiet.
gripping the bedsheets were no longer enough, and yn gripped jj’s hair with her other hand, basically yanking at it now.
jj slipped another finger into his girlfriend’s hole, and his tongue became more passionate as he licked her clit.
“jj! fuck, i’m gonna cum.” she moaned.
“cum for me, darlin’.”
jj’s fingers sped up, going as deep as he could get them, curling them slightly, in order to hit that spot that got yn to climax.
his fingers were now covered in a sticky, cloudy substance, “fuck, baby. you okay?”
“yeah.” she breathed, “that was so good.”
jj reached for a wipe, as he wasn’t one that was much for licking his fingers clean, wiping the cum from his fingers.
“you ready for my cock now, darl?” he asked, pressing a soft kiss to her lips.
she nodded, not giving him the consent he was after.
“verbal.” he spoke, in a low tone.
“yes. please, jj.” yn was practically begging.
finally getting the consent he needed, he discarded of his boxers, also tossing them to the ground.
yn got up to kneel, and wrapped her hand around jj’s shaft. she leant over to spit, making her movements smoother and less uncomfortable for jj.
they were both aware that she wasn’t giving him a full on handjob, just getting him completely hard, but she wanted to tease him a bit. her spare hand crept underneath to jj’s balls, giving them the slightest squeeze possible; jj’s head fell straight into yn’s neck as she stroked his cock, letting out a groan into her skin.
“fuck, baby.” he groaned, “don’t play with me like this.”
she chuckled, “just getting you warmed up, jay.”
while yn stroked jj’s hard on, he went back to pecking at her neck, occasionally nibbling and sucking at her skin.
“oh my god-“ jj held back laughter.
“what?”
“i just gave you a huge hickey, babe.”
yn’s irises widened, “what?!”
she picked up the closest phone to her, which happened to be jj’s and checked in the camera.
“jj!” she scolded, “my brothers are gonna kill me, you dick!”
“i can make it up to you?”
she smirked, as jj tilted in response, almost as if he were asking an actual question. almost as if they were in sync, jj practically dove at yn as she pressed her lips to jj’s.
jj lifted his girlfriend’s leg up and pulled her closer, pressing his cock against her core.
“you ready?” he asked.
“fuck, yeah.”
jj pulled out a tube of lube from his bedside table before smearing a small amount over his cock, then tossed it onto the pillow next to them.
“condom?” he asked, checking what yn wanted.
“nah. i’ve got plan b in your drawer.”
he nodded, then he rubbed his dick up and down her folds, teasing her by rubbing it occasionally on her clit, causing her lower body to slightly twitch.
when yn gave him the okay, he slowly pressed is dick into yn’s hole, trying not to cause her too much discomfort, as it had been a while.
“you hurtin’?” jj asked, genuinely concerned.
“no, just feels a bit strange.”
“am i okay to move then?”
she nodded, “mhm.” giving him the verbal consent she knew jj was after.
jj slowly moved back and forth, pushing in and out of yn’s pussy. he leant into his girlfriend, placing one hand on her hip, and the other on her jaw, before passionately kissing her.
their lips moved as if they were molded together, when jj knew that yn was okay, from the small moan that fell against his own lips, his pace sped up.
“baby-“ yn grabbed jj’s shoulder, “fuck- go faster, jj.”
jj’s hips thrusted in and out faster than before, hitting yn’s cervix, repeatedly.
yn could no longer kiss jj; her nails were currently digging into his back, as her teeth were softly pressing into jj’s neck, “fuck me, jj.”
“i am, darlin’.” he breathed.
by now they were both a complete mess, hickeys all over the both of them, teeth marks in jj’s neck, nail marks on yn’s hip and scratches across jj’s back.
jj threw his head back, flicking his now sweaty hair out of his face, in order to see his beautiful girlfriend again.
“fuck- you’re so beautiful.” he moaned, admiring yn’s body.
she pulled jj closer to her, as his cock twitched inside her and her vision was partially covered by white spots. she kissed jj, as they both couldn’t hold back anymore - their breaths became one, as they moaned and groaned in between kisses onto each other lips.
“i’m gonna cum, sweetheart.” jj informed yn, pressing his head into the inside of her neck.
“me.. too-“ she struggled to breath out.
as they were getting closer and closer to reaching their highs, jj’s hips slapped against yn’s skin faster and harder than before, he almost couldn’t control it anymore.
“can i cum inside you?” he asked.
“yes, fuck- please cum inside me, jj” she moaned, consenting once again.
with the consent he was given, he thrusted into his girlfriend a few more times, before the both of them had their orgasms.
jj pressed his forehead against yn’s, slowly thrusting, as yn held his head.
“i love you so much.” yn whispered.
“i love you too, baby.” jj responded, pressing a kiss to her lips, before flopping down onto the pillow next to him, “ow, forgot i put that there.”
jj passed the lube to yn, who then placed it into the drawer next to her.
both their chests were quickly moving up and down as they caught their breaths.
“can i clean you up, sweetheart?”
“yeah, jay.”
jj reached to grab a tissue from the bedside table next to him, and gently wiped around yn’s now sensitive areas, wiping the substances off her, then grabbing a wipe to properly clean her. he then threw them both into the bin before laying back down, only for yn to do the same cleaning process to jj.
“i don’t understand why you never clean yourself off after me.”
“guess i just prioritise you.”
“how cute.” yn joked.
jj chuckled, “shut up. wanna stay here for a bit or do you wanna get some food and a drink?”
“i’m kinda hungry.”
“let’s get changed then and we can go grab some food.” jj responded, getting up, before pulling his girlfriend up with him, making sure she stabilised herself before he let go of her.
they both got changed before they left jj’s room and headed into the kitchen area of the chateau.
while jj made food, yn went over to john b, and whispered, “i failed.”
“i know. my poor ears had to hear it all.”
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6emo6zombie6 · 5 months
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RDR2 relationship/sexual headcanons -- F!reader
(Arthur, John, Dutch)
I've been seeing these a lot, and it would be fun to share my own. So, here you go! Warning for NSFW stuff though ;) I might make more of these in the future but I'm out of ideas for other characters at the moment.
__________________________________________________________
Arthur:
Absolute sweetheart, will do anything for you.
Can’t stand to see you crying. Usually, he’s reserved, but around you, he’ll coo softly and hold you in his arms.
“Shh… hey, I’m here. You’re safe.”
Always shares his food when he’s around you. And if there is no food, he’ll share his cigarettes.
He won’t admit it but loves it when you pick flowers for him. Usually, he keeps them in an empty whiskey bottle beside his bed.
Will ask you to help him pomade his hair, though you both know it’s because he likes getting scalp massages.
He’ll somehow always find a way to escort you.
“I’ll walk with you to your horse” “Need me to come with you?” “You sure you’re okay goin’ on your own?”
Not a fan of holding hands, though he’ll have his arm over your shoulders or around your waist most of the time.
Looooovessss hugging you from the back.  
Not opposed to you grabbing his ass once in a while.
Loves forehead kisses, whether it is receiving or giving them.
~~~~~
Not rough in bed—rather thorough. He won’t break the bed or have it slamming against the wall, but he spends a while preparing you. Foreplay lasts an hour minimum until he decides you can take every inch of him.
Will overstimulate himself if it means you’ll cum.
Not loud, but he takes pride in hearing you moan his name.
If he doesn’t have the energy to have full-blown sex, he’ll sit you on his lap and finger you until you’re trembling.
Not the biggest fan of receiving head, since it makes talking practically impossible for you, and he hates silent sex.
Enjoys handjobs while making out, though usually he’ll only accept one if he’s drunk.
Constant compliments.
Lap sex??? To Arthur, there is nothing better than holding you close while you bounce on his cock.
John:
Not all too touchy, but he’ll stare at you like you’re an angel 24/7.
Likes it when you hug his side, especially if you're shorter than him so he can tuck you under his arm.
Will randomly polish your shoes or your saddle.
Never forgets to give you a kiss when he leaves camp.
Usually confused when you’re upset or angry, but he’ll try his best to talk you through it.
Very protective of you, especially around other men. He's constantly worried that you might get hurt.
Stubborn as a bull, though he means well. The two of you always seem to be making up for arguments.
Always the big spoon.
Never skips out on a night of drinking with you.
Lets you sit on his lap, though usually only when he’s tipsy.
~~~~~~
Obsessed with hearing you plead. He’ll make you beg for absolutely anything.
If you’ve misbehaved in any way, he’ll punish you with abstinence.
On the other hand, he praises you for everything you do right.
“Yeah, that’s it, good girl.” “atta girl…” “You’re doing so well.”
Always on top. Probably because his ego is a little fragile.
Likes to switch between quick sex and passionate sex every once in a while. One day he’ll be ramming into you for twenty minutes, while the other he’ll spend the same time just getting you undressed.
Dacryphiliac—he loves watching you cry for all the right reasons.
“You look so pretty like that, sweetheart.” “Look at you, such a mess for me.”
Only loud when you are.
Very courageous in bed, but he gets shy the next morning when the majority of the gang starts teasing him for the marks on his neck or the foul noises they heard coming from his tent.
Dutch:
(This one is for the girls with daddy issues, bear with me.)
Almost exclusively calls you pet names, never your actual name.
Stuff like “Sweetheart”, “sugar”, “My girl”,,, etc.
He’ll make sure everyone knows you’re his, usually introducing you as his girlfriend right away.
Likes picking out your clothes for you.
Tells you about the books he reads whenever he can.
The absolute master at calming you down. Whenever he sees that you’re upset, he’ll take you to his tent and sit you on his lap, then he’ll calmly talk things over with you until you’re calm again.
Yeah, loves having you on his lap.
Enjoys braiding your hair or pinning it into a bun.
Loves hugging you from behind when you’re doing your chores or talking with other gang members.
Will bathe you whenever he gets the chance.
~~~~~~
Rarely ever takes his clothes off, but forces you to be completely naked all the time. It adds an extra layer to the power dynamic that the two of you have In bed.
Bends you over his lap and spanks you whenever he feels you pay too little attention to him.
Also loves fingering you on his lap, though it’s more to tease than to make you cum.
Will go absolutely crazy if you sit on his lap and grin your ass into his bulge. It doesn’t even matter if anyone’s around because he’ll just excuse himself and drag you into his tent.
He wants everyone to know how good he makes you feel. If you’re not moaning his name or whining under his touch for everyone to hear, he’s not interested.
He expects you to follow every order that he gives you. You’re not getting his touch if you disobey.
You calling him “sir” makes him instantly grow hard.
Always leaving scratches and hickeys on you for other people to notice.
Enjoys lightly choking you when making out, just to show what could happen if you were to misbehave.
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wholoveseggs · 2 months
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hello gorgeous! i got another idea! How about reader going through a divorce where the husband is really an arrogant asshole, permanently making fun of her etc. And then she meets Elijah, and they start getting close and he helps her gain her confidence back and shows her how she should be treated. And maybe a few months later, after the divorce, she meets the ex-husband somewhere again and he tries to humiliate her again but Elijah is there and he puts him in his place. Smut is very much welcomed. 🫶🏻
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I hate Antoinette, but they were hot together
18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}
Your marriage causes you to feel trapped and worthless. Until you meet a handsome stranger at a café and he shows you how much more you can be.
♡♡ Thanks for the request lovely @msveronicag, I hope you enjoy it! ♡♡
5.8k words - Warnings: angsty, smutty, reader has low self-esteem, husband is verbally & financially abusive, cheating, car sex, Elijah being a bit of a rascal.
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When you first got together with John, he was just so charming and you couldn't help but fall for him. It was hard to say no to him, and you were in a haze of love for a long time. He was such an extrovert, loud and funny, and you felt like you couldn't live without him.
But over the course of your marriage things started to change, his mask slipping and showing the real John underneath. At first it was just a comment here and there, you told yourself he was just having a bad day, but then it just kept getting worse.
The day you stopped loving him, was the day he had a bad day at work and decided to take it out on you. You cooked his favorite dinner, trying to make him feel better, and when he came home, he told you to order takeout instead. You were in the middle of making it, so you just told him it would be done soon, and tried to ignore him.
He took the food and threw it in the sink, and started yelling. You were so stunned, you just stood there and let him. He said the most terrible things, telling you how worthless and pathetic you were, that no one would ever want you if they knew you were like this.
A part of you started to believe him, because no matter how hard you tried to be a good wife, you just weren't. John was so kind and charming to everyone else, so it clearly had to be your fault.
You slowly stopped talking to your friends and family, you were probably annoying them anyways.
John eventually cheated on you, and then you found out he was cheating with multiple women. He would disappear for days at a time, off with someone else. You didn't even care, you didn't love him anymore.
Abuse is insidious like that, you become numb to it all, your brain normalizes it to help you cope, until you don't realize that you are being abused. Until you think it's your fault...
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You woke to the sound of yelling, your usual alarm clock these days. John was a loud and obnoxious man, and he had no problem screaming at you whenever the mood struck him.
Today's argument was over you sleeping in. You wanted to stay in bed for a little longer, and John couldn't stand to wait another moment. So he went ahead and had to make his own breakfast, and then came upstairs to berate you.
"You really are a lazy slob! I bet you didn't do any of the laundry either. Get up and clean the house!"
You slowly got out of bed, lately your coping mechanism was ignoring him. If you didn't say anything perhaps he wouldn't yell at you. It wasn't a great coping mechanism, but it was the only thing keeping you sane.
"Are you fucking stupid? Answer me!" John yelled as you walked into the bathroom, closing the door in his face.
That didn't stop him, he yelled through the door, and you turned on the shower. Perhaps you would stand there for an hour, just to piss him off.
Just when you started to relax under the warm water he started banging on the door.
"You've been in there too long, wasting the water I pay for. Get out!"
You didn't have a job, because John told you he would take care of you. You were young and naive, you learned the hard way that being financially beholden to any man was a bad idea.
You finally turned off the shower and dried off. You put on a baggy shirt and sweats, and opened the door. He was gone, probably downstairs watching tv.
You got dressed and headed to your craft room, you spent a lot of time in there. You enjoyed painting intricate scenes on canvases, it was the only thing that gave you joy anymore.
When you painted, your mind would go completely blank, and you would lose yourself in the art. Sometimes you would paint for hours and not even notice.
You put on some music and started working on a landscape. You didn't realize how much time passed until the door opened.
John must of had a day off work because he was still home, he usually left by this time. He stood there and watched you for a moment.
"I'm bored and hungry. Make me lunch."
"I'm not your maid. Make it yourself," you mumbled, not taking your eyes off the canvas.
"Why the fuck do you even waste your time with that? Do you think anyone cares about your mediocre shit?" He snapped.
He's right, no one would care about your paintings, even if you shared them. You weren't that talented, it was purely a form of escape. But a small part of you dreamed of being able to sell your artwork and live off the income.
You set down your paintbrush and sighed.
"I don't do it to show off, I do it because I enjoy it. It calms my mind and makes me happy," you answered.
He laughed, a cruel and mocking sound. He had no appreciation for art or culture, he only cared about money and power. He stepped forward and ripped the canvas off the easel, and started tearing it to pieces.
"How's that for making you happy? Do you still want to paint? Be a famous artist? Real Picasso you are!" He sneered, laughing at his own joke.
You didn't want him to see you cry, so you just got up, grabbed your things and walked out of the house. You felt so weak, such a pushover, unable to defend yourself against his cruelty. A little voice in your head told you that you deserved it, no one knew you better than John, so if he said you were worthless and pathetic, then you must be.
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There was a cafe near your house, you always went there when John was being too much for you to handle. It was a cute little spot that doubled as a vintage book store. Dark wooden bookshelves that went from floor to ceiling, plants in every corner and a cozy seating area with large comfortable couches and chairs. It also displayed paintings from local artists on its walls, you enjoyed the ambiance of the place, it made you feel at peace. You would buy a coffee and sit in there for hours reading.
You had seen the same man there a couple times, and his striking appearance caught your eye. His dark hair was perfectly styled, his brown eyes piercing, and his strong jawline was covered in stubble. There was something about him that drew you in, but you were far too shy to ever approach him. What would you even say to a man like that? Hey, I think you a stupidity beautiful? Is the book you're reading good? What do you do for fun? It all sounded so pathetic in your head, so you stayed away.
You noticed that he was always nice and polite to the waitresses and he tipped generously. You wondered if he was like John, that it was all just a facade and that he was secretly cruel underneath his mask of civility. But his face was always soft, his voice gentle, and the way he held the door open for other people gave you hope that he was a genuinely nice man.
You would never see him in anything other than a three piece suit, which was unusual for this neighborhood. His dark blue, or sometimes black suits, fit him so well and complemented his skin tone. He wore crisp white shirts and you could tell he was muscular underneath, not bulky, but lean.
You would sip on your coffee, reading, and stealing glances of him out of the corner of your eye. It was probably pathetic, but the way he looked and carried himself made you feel good, so you let yourself.
One day as you were reading your book, you noticed him reading the same book. Perhaps it was the extra espresso shot you added to your coffee or the fact that it was the first sunny day in weeks, but you found the courage to get up and introduce yourself.
"Hey, uh, I see you have excellent taste in books," you smiled at him, your heart fluttering when he made eye contact. You fought the urge to run away, his gaze was intense, but not harsh.
"It seems you do as well," he returned the smile, his voice was like velvet. He gestured to the seat across from him. "Please, join me."
You felt butterflies in your stomach as you sat down, trying your best to maintain eye contact and not blush.
"What made you choose this particular book?" He asked, gesturing at it.
"Honestly, the cover. The art style is really appealing," you told him, blushing a bit. The way he was looking at you made your breath catch in your throat.
"Interesting, I thought the same thing." He chuckled, closing his book and holding out his hand. "I'm Elijah, by the way."
"Y/N," you introduced yourself, taking his hand and shaking it.
"What do you think of it?" He asked, leaning back in his armchair, your gaze lingered on his arms as he crossed them.
"What?" You said, feeling your cheeks heating up. Why did you have to be so stupid all the time?
"The book, what do you think of the book?" He chuckled, tilting his head and smiling.
You talked about the book, the writing, the characters, and how you thought it was going to end. You ended up talking for hours, he was easy to talk to. You found yourself getting more and more relaxed around him.
Elijah had this aura about him, an air of confidence that was oddly comforting. He was polite and charming, with only a hint of a mysterious accent that intrigued you.
"I can't believe we've been sitting here for so long," you laughed. "I didn't mean to keep you, I'm sure you have other places to be."
"No, I have nowhere I need to be, I'm enjoying your company," he said softly. You noticed his gaze lingered on your lips.
You glanced down at your watch and saw that it was nearly 11pm. "Wow, I should go, my husband is probably wondering where I am." You got up and dug around in your purse to pay the bill.
"I would love to see you again," Elijah said as you pulled out your wallet. "Here, let me." He pulled out his own wallet and handed the waitress some cash.
A giddy, almost school girlish, smile spread across your face. "Oh, okay. Thank you, that would be great." You stuttered a bit, blushing and putting your wallet away.
"Have a lovely night," he said softly, getting up and kissing the back of your hand.
Your heart fluttered, and you couldn't wipe the silly grin off of your face as you left. You hadn't felt this feeling in so long, and the thought of seeing him again filled you with joy.
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The next few weeks felt like a dream, every day you would go to the cafe and read. You would sit in Elijah's section, and after a while he would show up and sit across from you, drinking his coffee.
"I hope I'm not interrupting," he said the first time. "I just enjoy your company."
"You're not interrupting," you blushed, putting your book down. "I enjoy your company as well."
As time went on, the conversations got more and more personal. He asked about your job, your life, and your husband. You didn't want to talk about John, it was hard to admit you had been in a bad marriage for so long. You told him a little, about how you both fell out of love, and were basically roommates.
Elijah would listen intently, and would always ask the right questions. He was very good at drawing information out of you. But whenever he got too close to the truth you would change the subject.
It was obvious that he was a good listener and had a kind heart. You wondered why he bothered with you, a nobody, when he was clearly such a sophisticated man. He could have anyone, and yet he was sitting with you.
One day he brought you a gift, it was a tiny ornamental bird, painted a beautiful shade of green. It was just like the one in the first book you both read, and you had told him how much you liked it. You were speechless, it was the sweetest thing anyone had ever done for you.
You decided to make him a gift, and spent all day working on it. It was a bookmark with an image of a forest painted on it. You used a mix of acrylic and watercolor, the greens and browns blending together.
John walked in on you finishing up, and sneered at your painting. "Are you trying to impress somebody with that? No one's gonna want that ugly thing." He said, scoffing.
Your heart sank and you felt tears pricking the corners of your eyes. He was right, who would want it? It was nothing special.
You were going to give it to Elijah anyways, but you kept second guessing yourself. He wouldn't want it, it was a stupid idea.
He came into the cafe a little later that day, and greeted you with his usual warm smile. Your stomach twisted into knots, and you felt your palms starting to sweat.
"Hey," you said, trying to sound normal. "How are you today?"
"I'm well, how are you?" He replied, sitting across from you.
"I'm good, thank you," you nodded. You decided it was now or never. "So, I made this for you," you blurted out, holding out the bookmark. Your face was hot, and you wished you could hide under the table.
Elijah's face lit up, and he gave a wide crooked smile. "This is wonderful, thank you," he said.
You watched as he picked it up, admiring the artwork. He traced the pattern of trees with his finger and he seemed completely enamored with it.
"You are very talented, do you sell these?," he asked. He looked up and saw the expression on your face.
“Oh god no, I don't know about that, I mean, I just do it for fun, and..."
You were interrupted by your phone ringing, it was John.
"Sorry, one moment," you said, answering the call.
"Where the hell are you? It's past 8pm, and I'm starving, come home and cook dinner," he growled.
You felt your cheeks heat up under Elijah's gaze, shame and embarrassment washed over you.
"Yes, of course, I'm sorry, I'll be right home," you whispered, you felt so small.
"Hurry up, lazy ass," John snapped before hanging up.
You put your phone away, and forced a smile.
"I'm sorry, I have to go, I forgot my husband was cooking dinner," you lied.
Elijah nodded, his brow furrowing a bit. "Alright, have a lovely night," he said.
"You too," you mumbled as you quickly grabbed your things and left.
You cried all the way home, feeling like a such a loser, a complete failure. Why couldn't you have someone like Elijah in your life? Someone who listened, someone who cared, someone who didn't berate you every second of the day.
You wondered what Elijah thought of you, did he see you as pathetic and weak? A fool that let her husband walk all over her?
It didn't matter, he was so out of your league, you were just a stupid, fat nobody. He would never want you, no one would.
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When you showed up to the cafe the next day you noticed a fancy sports car with tinted windows parked out front. It looked very out of place on your street, the only people around who had cars like that were old rich people, and the occasional drug dealer.
Before you reached the door you heard your name being called, and turned around. You saw Elijah waving at you from the driver's seat of the car.
You approached the passenger seat window, and he smiled, beckoning you to get in. You sat down and he handed you a cup of coffee, you smiled at the gesture, he knew your order.
"Thank you," you said, taking a sip.
"I want to show you something," he said, pulling on to the street.
"What is it?" You asked.
"It's a surprise," he said, smirking.
You had no idea where he was taking you, but you didn't mind. You were excited to spend some more time with him.
When he pulled up to the local community centre you were very confused. You couldn't imagine why Elijah wanted to bring you here, maybe it was part of the surprise.
You both got out of the car and entered the building. Inside there was a craft show going on, local artists had set up tables displaying their wares.
His thoughtfulness touched you deeply, he had taken the time to bring you here because he knew you loved art.
The next couple hours were spent perusing the aisles and admiring the paintings, sculptures and crafts. Elijah seemed to have an interest in all of it, asking lots of questions and complimenting the artists. He had a way of making everyone feel comfortable, it's something you admired about him.
"You could get a booth here, sell your art if you wanted," he suggested.
"Oh, I don't know about that, this is just a hobby," you said, brushing off his idea.
"Why not?" He pressed.
"I...well, no one would want my stuff, I mean, they're just little paintings," you sighed
"I would, I think you're very talented," he said softly.
Your heart swelled at his words.
"Thanks," you smiled.
After the craft show, he drove you home, you made him park at the end of the street. You knew how jealous John could get, and the last thing you wanted was for him to see you getting dropped off by a handsome stranger.
"Thank you, Elijah, this was fun," you said.
"The pleasure was all mine," he replied.
"You can't tell anyone about this, I mean, if John finds out, he'll..." You trailed off, feeling stupid.
"He will what?" Elijah's eyes were full of concern.
"Oh, he just, gets jealous easily," you said, fumbling over your words.
"Are you not allowed to have friends?" His brow furrowed, and his eyes hardened a bit.
"No, I mean, I can have friends, I'm just not, uh, supposed to have guy friends," you admitted.
"That doesn't sound like a healthy relationship," Elijah said, his voice sounding slightly deeper than usual. "How about business partners?"
"What?" You were confused.
"If I could help you with your art career, get you a booth at the craft fair, promote your work, would that be allowed?"
"Uh, I guess so," you said.
"Excellent, let's meet tomorrow, discuss what needs to be done," he smiled.
"Okay," you smiled, a warm feeling spreading through your body.
When you got home you decided not to tell John, the last thing you wanted was an argument. Maybe if you were successful and sold a lot, then he would be happy for you, but that was just wishful thinking.
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You and Elijah had been meeting up once a week for two months, discussing your art, and ways to improve your sales. He was an expert at marketing, and had already gotten you some commissions.
It was nice to have something else to focus on, instead of constantly being reminded that you were a failure. And for the first time in your life you were making your own money, it felt good.
You started to feel more confident in yourself, Elijah was always saying how talented and special you were, and it was beginning to stick.
Today was the craft fair, and you were nervous, what if no one bought anything? What if they all hated it and thought it was ugly?
Elijah pulled up in his fancy car, and greeted you with his usual warm smile. You both had gotten so much closer in the last couple months, and he had become your best friend. He was the only person in your life that made you feel like you mattered.
Your feelings for him were beyond friendship, but you couldn't risk losing him. It was better to have him as a friend, than nothing at all.
The craft fair was going well, you had already sold two pieces, and were chatting with some customers.
"Oh my goodness, this is gorgeous," one of the customers, an older woman, exclaimed.
"Thank you," you beamed.
"How long have you and your husband been selling these?" She asked, gesturing to you and Elijah.
"Oh, uh, we're not married," you blushed.
"Sorry, I just assumed, your ring..." she trailed off.
You glanced down at your hand and saw your wedding band, the simple gold band John had given you so many years ago.
"I am married, just not to him, we are just business partners," you smiled awkwardly.
"Oh, my mistake," the woman said, returning your smile, her gaze lingering on Elijah.
"It's okay," you blushed, trying to busy yourself by wrapping the painting she had purchased.
"You'd make a lovely couple," the woman said, handing you her credit card.
Your face burned, and your palms began to sweat. You had tried your best to not think of him that way, it wasn't fair to him, or to John. But the thought was always in the back of your mind.
"Thank you, have a nice day," you managed, handing her the wrapped painting.
"You too dear," she said, winking.
You sold out quickly, and decided to celebrate with a drink at a nearby bar.
"I'm very proud of you," Elijah smiled. "You have a natural gift."
"Thanks," you said, feeling yourself blush.
He leaned in close and took your hand, tracing your wedding band. "This doesn't suit you," he said.
"Excuse me?" You squeaked, the butterflies in your stomach fluttering madly.
He ignored your reaction and just grinned, his fingers intertwining with yours. You stared at your hands, his thumb lightly caressing your knuckles. Your heart was pounding so loud you were sure he could hear it.
"Can I ask you a personal question?" He said, his gaze fixed on your face.
"Sure," you whispered, unable to take your eyes off of him.
"Why didn't John show up to support you?" His voice was barely a whisper.
Your heart sank. You had purposefully not told John, not wanting to hear him complain about it, or belittle you.
"Well, um, I didn't really invite him," you confessed.
"Why not?"
"Because, I knew he wouldn't care," you sighed. "And I don't want him to know I'm earning my own money,"
"Because you plan on leaving him." It wasn't a question.
"Y-yeah, eventually," you stammered.
He leaned forward and kissed the back of your hand. "Good, you deserve better," he murmured, his lips still grazing your skin.
You didn't know what to say, your head was spinning and you felt hot all over.
"You never talk about him, but I can tell you are unhappy," he said, sitting back.
"It's complicated," you whispered.
"You can talk to me," he said.
You paused for a moment, trying to collect your thoughts. You had never talked to anyone about your feelings for John, it was too difficult.
"Well, we used to be happy, when we first got married, but now he's not the same," you said, trying to keep the emotion out of your voice.
"How so?"
"He's controlling and possessive, and he yells a lot. He doesn't love me anymore, and I'm not sure he ever did," you admitted, tears welling up in your eyes. "He cheats on me regularly and controls the finances. Selling my art is the first opportunity I've had to earn money of my own, and I'm terrified of what he'll do if he finds out."
You felt yourself begin to cry, and tried to wipe the tears away, ashamed that your life had turned out this way.
"You hold all of this pain inside, it's not healthy," Elijah said, his face was unreadable.
"I know," you sobbed. "I'm sorry, I don't know why I'm crying, it's so stupid."
"It's not stupid, you're not stupid," he said, wiping away a tear with his thumb.
You looked into his eyes, his face full of concern. He cared about you, and it was a relief to finally have someone to confide in. You feared that Elijah would reject you, see you as pathetic, but he didn't. He stayed by your side, listening and offering comfort.
"If you ever decide to leave him, you are more than welcome to stay with me," he said.
"You'd do that for me?"
"Of course, you're my friend," he smiled.
You threw your arms around him and buried your face in his neck. "Thank you," you mumbled.
He froze for a moment, before wrapping his arms around you, pulling you close. You inhaled his scent, a mixture of cologne and whiskey. He was solid and warm, and you felt safe in his embrace.
"Thank you, for everything," you repeated, beginning to pull away, but he held you in place.
You felt something stir deep inside, something primal and raw. The heat from his body, the way his strong arms felt around you, and the closeness of his face was overwhelming.
He kissed your cheek as you pulled back, and his lips lingered there for a moment. Your skin tingled where his lips had touched, and you could feel the warmth from his breath.
You sat back and looked at him, his eyes were dark and full of desire, your fingers intertwined with his. The air was thick with tension, and the electricity between the two of you was undeniable.
"I should get home," you said softly, not really wanting to leave.
"Of course," he said, his voice was deep and raspy, his grip on your hand tightening.
You paid the bill, and walked out to the parking lot. Elijah stood close beside you, and his hand brushed yours a few times as you walked to his car.  
Before you could open the passenger side door you felt his hands on your hips. He spun you around and pressed you against the car, his lips capturing yours in a heated kiss. You gasped as his tongue slipped into your mouth, exploring and tasting you.
Your arms snaked around his neck, and your fingers ran through his hair. His hands slid down your hips and grabbed your ass, pulling you flush against his body.
His kiss was passionate and needy, and he moaned softly into your mouth. The sound sent a wave of heat through your body, and you felt your panties getting wet.
After a few moments, he pulled back and rested his forehead on yours, both of you panting.
"Right, okay," he said, his breathing heavy.
"Yeah," you breathed, not really sure what to say.
He pulled away and went to open the passenger door for you, but you stopped him. You felt bold and daring, and the alcohol gave you a confidence boost. You motioned to the back door, and he smirked, pushing you up against the car and kissing you again before opening the door.
You climbed in and he followed, his hands grabbing your waist as his lips found yours again. You moaned into the kiss, the heat between your legs intensifying.
The windows fogged up as you undressed, you were grateful for the tinted windows. You moved onto his lap in just your bra and panties, running your fingers through his hair. He kissed your neck and whispered your name.
"We shouldn't do this," you murmured, closing your eyes and tilting your head back.
"I know," he replied, his lips brushing against your ear.
Elijah placed feather-light kisses down your throat, his hands running up and down your back.
"Tell me to stop," he said, his voice thick with desire
"No," you breathed, clutching him tightly.
He reached around your waist and unclasped your bra, gently removing it and tossing it into the front seat. He ran his tongue across your breasts, circling each nipple before taking them into his mouth, sucking gently.
"You're so beautiful," he murmured, his hands running up and down your back, cupping your ass and pulling you closer.
You blushed, your heated skin flush against his, feeling his hard cock between your legs.
"So are you," you breathed, kissing his neck and grinding against him.
Elijah groaned, his hand coming down to grip your hip and help guide your movements. You were so turned on, it had been so long since you had sex, and John was never a generous lover. You wanted Elijah so badly, you felt like you were going to combust.
His lips found yours, and you kissed him with everything you had. The heat between the two of you turning into a raging fire.
Suddenly the moment was interrupted by the sound of your phone ringing. You both tried to ignore it, but it just rang again, and again, and again.
You broke the kiss and grabbed your phone, seeing it was your husband calling. "Fuck," you cursed, and you answered it.
"Why haven't you been answering your phone?!" He demanded.
"I've been busy," you replied. Elijah began kissing your neck again, a smirk on his lips as he listened. You suppressed a moan as he began to guide your hips, helping you grind against his hard cock.
"Busy doing what?! Who are you with?!" John shouted.
"I'm just with some friends, don't worry about it," you gasped.
"You don't have any friends," he spat.
"I do," you insisted, trying not to moan as Elijah's hand dipped into your panties.
"What are their names?" John questioned angrily.
"Elijah," you moaned as his thumb brushed your clit.
"The fuck!" John yelled, going completely into a rage. The kind that always frightened you, he always had a short temper.
Elijah could see the fear on your face and took the phone from you, tucking it under his neck as he continued to pleasure you.
"John, is it?" He asked, his voice cool and calm. "This is Elijah, I'm going to need you to calm down, you are scaring your wife," he said.
"Listen, whoever the fuck you are, don't think I won't track you down and fucking kill you," John spat, his anger reaching a boiling point.
Elijah chuckled, slipping a finger inside you and making you moan, you quickly covered your mouth, but Elijah moved your hand away and gave you a wicked grin, still speaking into the phone.
"That's a little violent, don't you think?" He murmured, his eyes never leaving yours. "Besides, I'd love to see you try," he smirked.
John went silent, you could hear his ragged breathing.
"Why do you pretend like you care John? She told me you fuck other people, I mean, who would blame her for finding a real man?" Elijah goaded.
You were shocked by his words, but couldn't deny how hot it was, or how aroused they were making you.
"Listen here motherfucker," John snarled, "she's mine, and I will not allow her to be touched by anyone el-"
Elijah hung up the call and discarded your phone, his eyes dark with lust as he stared at you.
"Now, where were we?" He asked, pulling you closer and kissing you deeply.
"I can't believe that just happened," you said, panting as his lips trailed down your neck.
"You don't need to worry about him anymore," he growled. "You are mine now."
You giggled, rolling your eyes at his possessiveness. But a part of you liked it, it made you feel desired, wanted.
"And I am yours," he added, his lips finding yours again, a deep and passionate kiss.
It started to rain, you could hear the droplets hitting the roof of the car. Making everything seem more intimate, as if it were just the two of you in the entire world.
You reached down and fumbled with the zipper of his pants, he lifted his hips and helped you get them down, his cock springing free. You wrapped a hand around it and began stroking him, his moans sending a thrill through your body.
"You don't ever have to go back to him," he whispered.
"I won't," you promised, your lips finding his once more.
He guided your hips, his cock teasing your entrance, and then you slowly eased down into him. He felt so good, a rush of pleasure coursed through your body. You moaned into his mouth, wrapping your arms around his neck and rocking against him.
The fire between you grew, the windows completely fogged up now. Your skin slick with sweat as you rode him slowly. Foreheads pressed together, you moved in perfect unison, a steady rhythm of passion.
You knew this would change everything, and that things were about to get very complicated. But in that moment, none of that mattered. All you cared about was being with Elijah, the only man who had ever made you feel loved and worthy.
John had taken everything from you, and had made your life miserable for the last ten years. You were trapped and made to feel it was what you deserved. But not anymore.
Elijah had shown you that you were worth more, that you deserved to be loved and cherished. He gave you the tools you needed to leave John, and the strength to do it. You would have never left him without Elijah.
And as you looked into his eyes, your bodies moving together in perfect harmony, you knew this was right, what love was supposed to feel like. You could see the emotions reflected in his eyes, the intensity of his feelings for you, the same intensity you felt.
You felt his muscles tense and knew he was close, his cock swelling inside you. You moved faster, chasing your own orgasm, wanting to come together. You couldn't tear your eyes away from his, and when the waves of pleasure finally crashed over you, it was intense, and he came with you.
The sounds of your moans and heavy breathing filled the car, the rain pattering against the windows. You clung to each other, hearts racing, trying to catch your breath.
As the high slowly faded, you both started laughing, giddy and sated. You pressed a soft kiss to his lips, and he returned it, a smile playing at his mouth.
"I love you," he breathed.
"I love you too," you replied, kissing him again.
He held you tight, his lips finding yours in the darkness. You were finally free, and the world was yours for the taking.
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queers-gambit · 6 months
Text
Aces
prompt: ( requested ) during a terrible storm, you're invited to stay at your boss' house. years of tip-toeing around one another comes to an end when emotions are finally laid on the table.
pairing: Tommy Shelby x female!reader
fandom masterlist: Peaky Blinders
word count: 3.5k+
warning: honestly, it's pretty tame. some cursing, kinda-sorta one bed, most def OC Tommy, fluff, author is def on the Grace Hating Train but it's mild.
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With a grunt, you threw the file of paperwork from your hands across the empty room; scattering across the floor. You were agitated, grouchy, beyond exhausted, and yet, there was no use in trying to leave when the worst storm to ransack England was being unleashed from the seediest parts of hell.
All you wanted was to go to bed for about 16 hours, but as midnight ticked closer and closer, that dream was dwindling. You'd be lucky to get a few hours at this point since your job was demanding enough to warrant early mornings and late nights. But this night was later than ever before.
You often wondered if your employer's antics brought this hell-storm upon you all, but figured, God didn't care that much about Small Heath. He most certainly didn't care for the Devil running it.
"Woah!" A voice laughed when the file went flying. "Gott'an arm on yah, love! Nearly took me fuckin' eye out!"
"Ha-ha," you mocked John Shelby, your employer's younger brother. "What're you still doing here?"
"I was about to ask you the same," he smirked, squatting so he was in front of you with an exaggerated pout. "Why're you still here, love? Tommy's still gotcha workin'?"
"No, it's my own vocation."
"Tommy don't pay overtime, sweetheart."
"No shit," your eyes rolled. "In case I'm the only one capable of seeing it, there's an outlandish storm outside that prevents me from getting home." You gestured around where you sat on the floor, surrounded by files and other paperwork, "So, what else was I gonna do to pass the time?"
"It's not that bad," he waved you off. "C'mon, I'm off t'the Garrison, come with me, love. We can drink 'til the storm passes, huh?"
"John, seriously, I'm warning you," you deadpanned, watching him adjust his flatcap.
"C'mon, sweet cheeks, we can endure it," he laughed, opening the door and literally being shoved back by the force of the wind. You didn't make a sound, just reaching to hold down the papers around you as he grunted and groaned, trying to shut the flailing door; only able to once he threw his entire weight into it.
"Told you," you mused, his face and coat dripping wet from the short time the door was open.
"So, you're staying here, then?" He asked, panting, trying to play off the entire ordeal.
"I figured I'd get some more work done, it's not like Tommy gives any days off," you shrugged.
"He'd give you whatever you asked for," John smirked, taking his coat off.
"No, he needs me to do shit on the daily, there aren't days off, John Boy," you rolled your eyes playfully. "But I knew what I was signing up for when I agreed to work for you idiots."
"Hey," he pouted.
"Oh, honey, if it helps any, you're my favorite idiot!"
"Good," he pointed at you with a small laugh. "But seriously, love, if you need the day off, Tommy would do it."
"No, there's so much to do here," you frowned. "We're on track to reopen in a few weeks, and if I take a day off, we'll fall behind, and you know Tommy doesn't do delays."
The gambling den the Shelby's operated was getting a make over now that The Shelby Company Limited was soon to be up and running. Hence why you were there in an empty room with only files around you and a dimly lit lap, you were trying to get shit organized before furniture could be moved back in.
You would have to restock Polly's office, Tommy's, Arthur's, and John's - all of who were Company members and would need their space to work. Not to mention the completely different office Tommy was currently eyeing to use as his base of operation, something you, as his personal assistant, was expected to help with every step of the way. Honestly, it was a miracle Tommy was ever able to get shit done before you - an organizational Goddess.
"Well," John sighed, looking around for a moment before shrugging and placing his hands on his hips, "want some help?"
You chuckled, "No, it's all right, John, you go on. Surely the lads will be home soon - "
Speak of the Devil! And He will appear!
The door burst open, sending your files every which way from the gust of wind; several bodies shoving their way inside before the lone, single body of Tommy Shelby stalked in last. He shut the door without issue, being a force of nature himself; a professionally observant, silent, lone menace that commanded the attention of any room he walked into. People on the street parted for him like the Red Sea, flocked to the darkened parts of the streets just to get a glimpse of the gangster in motion.
For as long as you can remember, you've harbored overwhelming affection for your boss, but never once vocalized it out of sheer fear of rejection.
He was Thomas Shelby. He was an enigma; a mysterious, stoic man that instilled a sense of fear and respect from those around him. You included, but yet never dare let your admiration for your employer be known in public. You loved him from a distance; admiring him and feeling yourself fall further into your unrequited love due to the intimate proximity you shared. He's always treated you as exactly what you were - a valuable member of the Company and his personal assistant. You worked intimately together on a daily basis, and each night you went home, you would scream into a pillow out of sheer frustration.
Being his personal assistant meant you were constantly in close proximity, and no matter how hard you tried to fight your feelings, it was impossible. He was Thomas bloody Shelby - insanely suave, charismatic, a deep nut to crack, but once he opened up, he was insanely loyal, caring, even decently amusing. He was all you wanted, but never felt secure enough to admit your feelings for him.
You were greeted happily by the men, all piling into the Shelby home to take refuge from the storm. You were left to silently rock to your feet and start gathering the papers that had gone flying in their entrance, glancing up when a hand offered help in rounding up your supplies. "Thank you, Mr. Shelby, but I got it," you insisted quietly, accepting the pages he handed you.
Tommy always had a soft spot for you.
He was silent for a moment, then asked, "What're you still doin' here?"
"Storm makes it impossible to get home," you shrugged. "I was waiting until it lessened, but it doesn't seem to," you glanced out the window, still shuffling files and papers together.
"You've worked all day," he sighed, "c'mon."
"Uh... Where?"
"Think you've earned a drink," he eased, already striding out of the room. You quickly finished gathering your papers, stacking them all together, but was pleasantly shocked when Tommy returned to the empty room with two glasses and a bottle of whiskey.
"Mr. Shelby, don't - "
But he was already sat on the ground, back against a wall, watching you with amusement. "Think a man's too good to sit on the floor?" He asked, uncorking the bottle.
"When their suit is so expensive that I have to take it to a specific cleaners, perhaps, then yes," you answered truthfully.
"I've money to spare, I can send this suit to be cleaned by another errand boy, you won't have to any longer," he poured two glasses of whiskey, "but tonight's company is too good to pass up."
You laughed, "Oh, no, what did you do?"
"Hmm?"
"You're kissing my arse a little, what've you done? What mess do I have to clean tomorrow?"
He smirked as you finally sat beside him, a bit stiffly, but accepted the drink he served. "Nothing, love, this storm's put a halt on everything," he gestured to the window, unaware that your heart stalled in your chest when you heard him call you 'love'. "What is it you were working on?" He asked, fingering the few files stacked between you. "Ah," he mused, reading the titles of the packets, "trying to get a jump on tomorrow, huh?"
"Not very much else to do," you shrugged. "I... I got a little frustrated. I think I'll need Polly to go over a few things with me."
"I'm sure you've got it," he spoke quietly. "I wouldn't have hired you if incapable."
You nodded, "Right, of course, sir."
Mr. Shelby offered you a look, taking a swig of whiskey. "You know, after hours, you don't have to be so professional."
"You didn't hire me to be unprofessional, though."
"No, I didn't, but this isn't a work meeting," he offered his glass. "We can still be friendly, can we not?"
You clinked his glass with yours, "Sure, of course we can..." How the hell could you be 'friendly' to the man you've pined after for the past two years? "So, I heard Grace skipped town," you started, instantly wincing when you realized what you said. "I-I'm so sorry, Mr. Shelby, I didn't mean to - "
But he chuckled, "You heard correct." He waited a long moment, then offered, "She's gone - for good."
You tested the waters, "Is... That a good thing?"
"It is."
"I thought you liked the barmaid?"
"I thought I did, too, but I've been wrong before."
"I doubt that."
"No, truly," he smirked, "I've made my fair share of mistakes."
"That you'd be willing to admit to?"
"Well, that's a different story," he mused, downing the last of his glass. "C'mon," he decided, sitting up, "the others are in the den, if you'd like to join?"
"Oh, no, I don't wish to intrude."
"Where were you going to sleep, then? If this storm doesn't die off in the next hour?" You gestured to where your coat and belongings were bunched up beside you, shrugging lightly. "No, absolutely not," he glared when he took in your makeshift bed, "you're coming in, you'll stay the night here."
"No, you lot are having family time - "
"And why do you assume you aren't family yet?" He asked sharply, making you reel back a little. "Three years, you've worked with my family, a portion of that before any of us came home. C'mon, love, you're more family than others wish to pretend to be."
"You mean that?" You worried softly.
He offered a look of mild offense, "I don't speak to hear the sound of my own voice. I would not say it if I did not mean it."
The whiskey in your system encouraged you to offer a sharp look, snipping, "It would not kill you to just say, 'Yes, I mean it.'"
Tommy smirked lightly, nodding, "Yes, I mean it. Come, you'll stay here tonight."
You couldn't fight off the smile even if you tried. With your coat and purse in one hand, Tommy took the other to help you off the floor. Like a gentleman, he took your belongings before leading you further into the Shelby home; leaving the empty gambling den to find the others all stuffed around a table with a card game loudly being played; fireplace stoked to life.
Polly greeted you happily, not knowing you were still here. Tommy set your things to the side as Arthur wrangled you into the seat beside him - insisting you had to be on his team! A quick sniff of his tea mug assured he was waist deep in the whiskey.
"Okay! New player at the table!" John announced, yanking all the cards back to hand over to Polly. They were all smoking, minus you and Finn. "You all know the rules - hey, hey, hey, no! Tommy's not on her team!" He pointed at you and his brother, who had sat beside you to sandwich you between Shelby's.
"Why not?" Tom asked, accepting the tea from Polly as Finn handed you your own.
"Thank you, little love," you whispered, pecking his cheek as he giggled.
"Becuase you two can communicate without words - it's fucking weird!" John insisted. "All right! Polly, you're with Tommy - the fucker likes to cheat."
"Being better than you isn't cheating, John Boy."
"Is when there's money on the line!" John laughed, Arthur leaning over to explain to you the game. He was actually a very good teacher, and even for a few rounds, you weren't a "viable player" just to let you watch and get the gist of things.
However, when you joined the game, it was far more intense than you had given credit for. But the Shelby's were competitive lads, Polly just happy to laugh and remind the boys of the rules; letting them dominate the table as you were content to just watch, laugh, and sip your tea. After a few rounds, Finn came over and hopped up on your lap, declaring you two a team now, and believe it or not, you won the next three hands!
"CHEATERS! AYE!?" John yelled, laughing right after as a boom of thunder rattled the home.
"No, call that beginners luck!" Arthur tried to defend, Tommy lighting a new cigarette.
"Or maybe John's just not accustomed to losing?" You grinned. "Especially from a lady?"
"I lost to a lady? Where? Where is she?" John looked around comically, earning a swift kick under the table that rattled the tea cups.
"All right, all right, next hand, we play for money, come on, come on, bets in the center," Polly instructed. "Finn, don't," she warned and you reached up to push the lad's hand down as he was ready to toss in a few pounds.
"Here, I'll cover us," you told the little lad, both grinning when you offered money to the center. Unknown to you, Tommy was keeping mental track of however much you were betting - intent to pay you back. Yet he didn't say anything, content to watch you and Finn have fun together.
Arthur and John were the most vocal of the group, arguing about scores and tallies and who won which round. You chuckled as Finn leaned into your chest, everyone waiting for the two to finish arguing; Polly looking over with a broad smirk before dropping her gaze. Tommy had seemingly naturally moved closer to you, one arm extended behind your chair to keep you close to his warmth.
Neither seemed to notice.
Not even when you would turn to crack a joke directly in Tommy's ear, his lips spreading in an easy smile that made Polly fight off her own grin. Grace was something special to Tommy, sure, this was true, but after the time together, she could tell that the two of you had become something more - without even verbalizing it.
Never realizing.
Hours passed, the storm still raged, two cartons of cigarettes was smoked between the lot of them, and there was no clear winner in sight. Finn had fully deflated into your embrace, asleep despite the loud thunder and blinding flashes of lightning. Your head had lulled onto Tommy's shoulder, sleep clawing at your eyelids as you listened to a drunken John and Arthur still argue about the card game. Polly eventually called it quits and bid everyone a goodnight, smiling softly when she noted the cozy seating between you and Tommy.
The longer you sat there, you more exhausted you became.
"C'mon, love," Tommy whispered softly, rousing you from your half-sleep, "let's get you to bed. C'mon, up you get," he smirked, aiding you from your chair as you kept a firm hold on his little brother. "We'll see you lot in the morning," he told his brothers.
"Night," John and Arthur waved, still deep into their argument, but smirking to one another when Tommy lead you up the stairs. When you were gone from sight, John leaned in and asked his eldest brother, "Think Tommy'll make a move tonight?"
Arthur glanced up the stairs, musing, "If he doesn't, he might be stupider then we thought."
John agreed.
Upstairs, Tommy opened the bedroom door and let you lay Finn softly on his bed, pausing to tug his shoes off and cover him with his blanket; moving his stuffed teddy bear closer and watching his sleeping hand naturally curl around it. You snuck out of the door, Tommy shutting the door, and tangled your hand with his.
Silently, he lead you to his bedroom.
It was small, ridiculously small, but it was enough for his single person. Tommy shut the door after you, moving around, muttering, "You can sleep in this," as he handed you one of his shirts, "and I'll be in the drawing room if you need me - "
"Tommy, I'm not kicking you out of your room," you sighed. "I can sleep on the sofa for the night, it's not - "
"I'm not letting you do that," he refused sharply.
"Then we seem to be at an impasse," you decided with perked brows. "Either we're both sleeping on the sofa or we both crash your bed. You choose."
He chuckled dryly, "And here I thought the whiskey would make you less stubborn."
"Wishful thinking."
He nodded, letting you have the room to change and get under the covers. It was decently cold in his room, more so without pants; the storm doing nothing to remedy that, and when Tommy returned, everything felt different.
A good different, but still different.
Neither of you made eye contact, him joining you in the absurdly small bed after blowing the candles out. You settled on your side, facing the wall, and after a few moments of adjusting, Tommy was settling down - but hesitating to deflate in comfort.
"Is it all right if I, uh... If I...?"
"Yeah, 's all right, Tommy," you whispered, reaching for the hand that hovered over your waist and pulling it so he was curled around you. It was all he needed to readjust, sigh to himself, and deflate against your back. You shivered slightly when his warm breath fanned over your neck and shoulder; his hand splaying over your belly and rubbing his thumb mindlessly. "Thank you for letting me stay the night," you whispered.
"Wasn't gonna send you home in this weather," he answered, voice vibrating the shell of your ear. "Besides," he whispered in a sigh, "this is where I wanted you, and where I wanted to be."
You chuckled, "Oh, yeah? So cold in here you need a warm body in bed with you?"
"No," he whispered, "but I've been in love with you for months now that I didn't want you far from me. Doesn't feel right, seeing you go home without me - everyday. I was overjoyed to come back and see you still here."
"What?" He didn't let you turn around, just kept you both there; locked in your spoon. "Tommy, what're you saying?"
He took a sobering breath, "That this is what I want, this is where I want us to be."
"That's the whiskey talking."
"No, love, it's you," his lips danced across your ear, making you shiver. "It's always been you, but I wasn't in my right mind to do anything about it."
"And now you are?"
"I might be, I couldn't go another minute with you thinking I don't want you - that I don't value you in my life. The fact that you were ready to sleep downstairs hurt me more than I'm willing to admit," he sighed, "and I knew, I needed to confess a few things so you know, you're welcome in this family. You won't ever sleep downstairs, love, you're meant to be here... With me... If you want to be."
You had to slap his hand to get him to loosen his grip and let you turn around to face him; but his hand remained on your, moving up to grip your ribs. In a whisper, you asked, "You're being honest? Genuine?"
"I can't lie to you, you can always tell. So, am I lying?"
"I don't think so," you whispered with skepticism, eyes narrowed. Neither of your voices rose above a whisper, "Why say any of this, Tommy?"
"Because the idea of going another day without at least trying to tell you how I feel was beginning to feel suffocating."
"What about Grace?"
"It's taken me a bit, but I know now that I was infatuated with her simply because I had already decided you were out of my league."
"Do you hear yourself?" You grinned, caressing his cheek. "You're everything I've wished for, Tommy, but know I can't have. You're the one in a league of your own, I'm the one unable to touch you."
His head shook, "You're all I've wanted and more. I wasn't sure you'd think it appropriate - my affection for you - given you work for me."
"The same reason I feared voicing my affection for you, too."
"Now that it's in the open," he whispered, "how do you want to proceed?"
"We can figure logistics out later," you smiled, tracing your fingertips over his face, "but for now, I just want to enjoy this. I never thought you'd look at me the same way, and now that you do, I don't want to look away."
"You won't have to," he whispered. "I'm in this for us, my sweet, if you are."
"Nowhere I'd rather be," you whispered, cuddled close, and simply breathing the same air. For a single moment, Tommy felt unparalleled peace; the shovels quiet, heart content, and body warm.
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Peaky Blinders masterlist
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abrunettefangirlnerd · 9 months
Text
If You Love Her
Prompt: You are dating Rafe after JJ cheated on you... but you're still a member of the pogues. A party and the boneyard makes tensions rise between everyone.
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Rafe POV
Her head rests against Rafe’s chest as they soak up the last bit of the sun lounging on the Druthers. It has been a rare peaceful day and Rafe is thanking whatever higher power there is that she has become his saving grace. He just hates the way that it happened.
               (Y/N) is originally a pogue, but it never mattered to Rafe no matter how hard he tried to deny it. Rafe never picked on her, only her friends. She became close with Sarah after saving whatever the latest sea creature was at the time. So she had been over a few times before Sarah started dating John B. Though it was the moment she stopped hiding behind the boys and found her voice, that Rafe has never stopped listening. He has been in a trance ever since. Her fire is what drew him in, but it is (Y/N)’s heart that melted his core. The only problem, she was JJ Maybank’s girl. “Was” being the operative word.
               Rafe will never forget her tear stricken face, red eyes, and piercing sob from that night. It took everything in him to not beat that punk to a pulp. Thinking about it even now gets Rafe all riled up. He hates that she is still around JJ, she never left the group. Rafe understands they are her friends, but he doesn’t like it.
“Come on,” (Y/N) stirs, still half asleep. “You promised we would go to the party.”
“Right, the boneyard party. With the pogues.”
“Hey, I’m a pogue.” (Y/N) angles her face to look up at his with a teasing smile.
“You’re my pogue.” Rafe smiles and leans down to place a kiss on her forehead.
               Yeah she is his pogue and he wouldn’t want it any other way. Any other party he would be excited to go. He loves parties with his girl, dancing the night away and playing drinking games. Tonight will be exactly like that, except he will have to see Maybank. I wonder if him and Kie have made it official yet, Rafe wonders to himself.
Your POV
               The music can be heard from a mile away in Rafe’s truck. My arm wraps around his as his hand gently squeezes my thigh. I know he doesn’t want to be here. He is doing it for me and I love that he is willing to entertain me for a few hours. I won’t make him stay long. I want him to see that my friends can be cool, and I hope one day they can put away their bad blood and get along.
Years of pent-up anger at both groups has been baking as long as I can remember. If it wasn’t for becoming secret friends with Sarah years before she joined the group, I may have the same outlook on Rafe as the others. Can he be a jerk and annoying as hell? Yes, but he can be sweet and at times my friends can be no better. Things between the kooks and the pogues have been quiet lately, but I know Rafe has it for JJ. I can’t blame him, I did too before I accepted that JJ deciding to cheat had nothing to do with me and everything to do with him. If I could have wished for anything that if JJ had to cheat, I would have chosen for him to cheat with anyone else but Kie. It makes the tension in the group that much thicker.
“Relax,” I giggle. “We’ll make an appearance. Stay an hour, two tops. Then we can go off on our own.”
               Rafe doesn’t say anything but I can see a hint of a smile at the corner of his lips. His thumb lightly brushes against my skin and I sense him starting to relax a bit. I just hope that tonight ends up being drama free.
               The truck is parked and Rafe is on my side opening the door. I learned early on that I am not allowed out of the truck unless he opens my door for me. Made that mistake and he wouldn’t move from his spot till I got back in so he could do it properly. I thought it was annoying and egotistical, but now I find it sweet. JJ never did that for me when we were dating.
               There are a lot of things that Rafe does that JJ never did. Aside from the whole cheating part, JJ was a fairly good boyfriend. He looked after me, was a good cuddler, made sure I had a good time. Being with Rafe though is so different. Sure he does look after me, kind of always has. We have the best time when together and I feel so safe in his arms. I’m not worried about a pretty blonde catching his eye. He is a complete gentleman making sure I am okay, respecting boundaries, going slow, being open. Something I did not expect is for him to communicate as well as he does. I guess once he knew I wasn’t going anywhere and that his feelings don’t scare me, he trusts me enough to talk about all the crap with his dad and if he is feeling insecure. He never freaks or overreacts when I have an issue with something.
“Hey boys!” I greet John B and Pope at the keg. I notice a small release of air leave Rafe’s chest at the realization JJ isn’t around yet.
“(Y/N) what up! I miss you at the chateau.” John B goes in for a hug and Rafe lets go of my waist to accommodate. The two shake hands after John B releases me. It is a simple gesture to an outsider, but with these two it means everything. John B is practically my brother and with him dating Sarah, and Rafe dating me, they both are trying to put in an effort.
“Here you two go.” Pope hands me and Rafe cups of beer that we gladly take.
A few drinks later, we depart for a dance near the fire. The music pulsates through my veins mixed with the alcohol and a nice buzz fills my senses. Rafe loops his arms around my waist and I pair mine around his neck. We sway to our own beat, not minding the people jumping around us. We are lost in our own world and we are the only two people who exist.
               Rafe’s eyes peer into mine as we rest our foreheads against each other. His lids close and I do the same, focusing on his hold on me. Warmth swarms over my body originating from his touch. I can’t wrap it around my head that I am with Rafe Cameron and that he can make me feel like I’m on top of the world. I only hope I can make him feel the same, that is often one of my insecurities. One that Rafe knows about and tries to assure me that I am more than enough for him.
“You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me.” Rafe whispers in my ear and places a kiss on the tip of my nose. I swear he can read my mind.
               Before I can say anything Rafe’s touch disappears from my body. I immediately open my eyes and find the back of a blonde standing between me and my boyfriend, JJ. The alcohol has me stumbling against the sand as I land against Rafe’s arm and he steadies me before putting my frame behind his. Always my protector.
               Rafe makes his stand but waits to see what JJ plans to do first. He knows that if he threw the first punch I would be mad. All I want is peace. Except I would not ask him to hold back if JJ started it first. He promised me, and so far he has kept his promise.
“You got the money, the job, and now the girl.” JJ’s words spread through the dry air, and people are beginning to take notice of a potential scuffle. Tears sting my eyes. Why is he making it sound like it is my fault I left him?
“Well Rafe if you plan on dating (Y/N) I want to fill you in on a few things.” JJ takes a step forward and I can feel Rafe’s muscles tense beneath my hands. JJ begins to speak but his gaze falls to me. “She always has trouble falling asleep, and she likes to cuddle while under the sheets.” JJ sends a wink my way and whistles from the accumulating audience fill the air. “She loves pop songs and dancing, and bad trash TV. There’s still a few other thin-“
“She loves love notes and babies,” Rafe interrupts. “And likes giving gifts. She has a hard time accepting a good complement. She loves her whole family and all of her friends… not that they deserve it.”
               I didn’t think it was possible for the air to get thicker than it has just now. JJ’s drunk eyes danced over me until Rafe unexpectedly interrupted. Both of our eyes cling to Rafe as he spoke but for two different reasons. My heart skips as Rafe reaches to grab my hand and gives it a light squeeze. I had no clue JJ was going to do something like this, but I am even more surprised at the fact Rafe has been paying attention this well. He continues to amaze me and all I want to do is kiss him.
“When she gives me her heart completely, I won’t break it like you did. (Y/N) is safe with me. I’ll stand by her side instead of sneaking off behind her back.” Rafe stares JJ down a few moments more before turning towards me.
His hands cup my cheeks and looks into my eyes silently asking if I’m okay. I nod to answer him and bring my hands up to rest against his wrists. Rafe places a soft but protective kiss against my forehead and whispers for us to go. Wrapping an arm around my shoulder, he pulls me in close and nods his head toward a stunned John B.
The walk to the car is silent. Rafe opens my door for me and waits for me to climb in before closing it. He quickly joins me in the driver’s seat but doesn’t start the car. Instead he turns towards me, he eyes furrowed as he contemplates what he is going to say.
“I’m sorry if I over stepped.” Rafe’s voice is a whisper. “I know you can handle yourself, but I couldn’t let him do that. Act like he still has claim over you, that he is the only one who can know you.”
“Hey, hey it’s okay. You did everything right.” I lean over and let my hand cup his cheek, bringing his gaze back to mine.
“I meant everything I said.” His beautiful orbs pierce mine. “I want you to know that. I’m in it for the long game. I love you (Y/N).”
               His voice cracks and I can tell how scared he is to say that last part. We’ve only been dating a month but we have known each other for years. Staying the night with Sarah has usually ended up with late night talks with Rafe after she fell asleep. We are the unlikely duo but I wouldn’t have it any other way.
“I trust you.” I say and my face heats up with my smile. “I love you, Rafe.”
               It takes a moment for the words to register in Rafe’s ears but once they do pure shock and adoration quickly take over his features. He leans in and gifts me with a soft but passionate kiss. All his love and vulnerability is wrapped in every movement he makes with me and I can already tell this is forever.
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laiiaaa · 1 year
Text
THE PART WHERE YOU KISS ME — JJ MAYBANK
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summary: You're stuck with the job of getting a very drunk, very lovesick JJ into bed.
length: 2.4k
contains: tooth-rotting fluff, obsessed boyfriend JJ, soooo touchy he can't keep his hands off of you (can you tell my love language is physical touch lmfao???), mentions of heavy drinking of course, zero plot, he's a flirty little freak and i hate him
note: Not the happiest with this but I haven't posted in a week and I'm in the middle of writing three other pieces right now...so take this as an apology gift for not having the GFAW chapter out yet <3
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Driving to the Chateau this late is never ideal, especially when you’re tired and ticked off from a busy shift. Your feet and back ache, your head could use a few Advil, and you would be perfectly happy to stay home and sleep for twelve hours. 
But when Kie calls you, groaning and saying Your boyfriend is wasted and won’t shut up about you and you need to come pull him to bed, you go. It’s as simple as that, really. Partially because JJ is already painfully stubborn when sober and only gets worse as the night goes on (code for: he won’t listen to anyone but you), and partly because you get a sweet kick out of his clinginess and extra loving.
So when you finally pull up and hop out of your car, the sound of Pope sighing Finally doesn’t surprise nor offend you.  Kie and Sarah scurry over, welcoming you with hugs and jokes about how sorry they are they had to call you while John B and Pope still tend to the drunken blonde.
“It’s alright,” you assure them, “I don’t mind.” And you really don’t, not at all, not when he acts all the more helplessly in love with you.
The bonfire still burns on, red-hot embers breaking off into the midnight sky. Pink Floyd’s Dark Side of the Moon plays from a speaker nearby, and beer bottles litter the ground as you approach. The fire’s warmth wraps around you, a handle of Tito’s—only half full—entering your field of vision as you find JJ reclined back on the ground, an arm thrown over his eyes while his other hand taps along to the song. You crouch down next to him and hear him hum in tune.
John B stands behind you, feeling a little helpless. “He’s been talking about you nonstop since he got, like, three shots deep.”
“And as much as we love you guys together,” Sarah adds, leaning into the boy’s side, “He doesn’t listen very well once he gets started.”
You shoot them a smile over your shoulder. “It’s okay, I get it. You guys can head in if you want, this might take a while.” The two lovebirds wave you goodnight as they walk back inside with Kie and Pope, and you turn your attention back to your exceptionally troublesome boy. “JJ? Time to go to bed.”
He grumbles without moving an inch. “I told you to fuck off, Sarah, I just wanna see my girl.”
Your heart flutters at the name—his girl. You’ve never heard him call you that. Does he seriously think you’re Sarah? “Your girl?”
“Yeah, you know the gorgeous one?”
“Might ring a bell.”
“Yeah, well, she’s the most…the most beautiful person in the history of…of forever, and she’s mine, so get outta here n’…go flirt with John B or somethin’.” He lazily waves you off, mumbling something you don’t quite hear.
A smile fights its way to the surface, and you gently place your hand on the smooth plane of his shoulder. “Oh, but I wanted to flirt with you instead. How’s that sound, hm?”
He quickly pushes your touch away. “It sounds like my girl’s gonna kill you any second now, so watch it, Blondie.” He slurs his words as he speaks, pulling giggles from your lips. You gently take his wrist in your hand to remove his arm from his eyes and press a kiss where your fingertips touch him. His eyes stay closed, and he juts his chin in the opposite direction in protest.
“Jay, baby, I’m not killing anyone anytime soon,” you coo, leaning over his chest and face while running a hand through his hair. 
He opens one eye, suspicious of your claims, but quickly realizes it’s you, and turns to look at you like he’ll never get the chance to do it again, his expression swallowed by a smile. “When did you get here, baby?”
“Oh, just now,” you answer, laughter lacing your words, “Kie called me over.” You press a kiss to his forehead before sitting back up, your hand quickly taken by his.
“You should’ve come sooner.” His other hand makes its way to your thigh, smoothing over your skin. “I was waiting for you, all by myself, and—” he abruptly sits up— “there’s something I have to tell you,” he whispers. He casts a glance to the Chateau. “It’s top secret.”
With him this close, you can smell the vodka on his breath. “Yeah? What is it?” You loop your arms around his neck and scratch at the nape of his neck, to which he instinctively responds by wrapping his arms around your waist and rubbing the palms of his hands along your back.
“This is top secret, classified information, princess, you can’t just get it for free. Everything comes with a price.” A sly little grin comes over him, tugging you a little closer.
Knowing JJ, you already know where this is headed. You decide to play along anyway: “Name it, then. I’m sure we can strike a deal somehow.”
He mulls over his words before saying, “Hear me out.”
“I’m listening.”
“You—” he points at your chest— “give me three—no, five kisses for the info up front.” When you raise your eyebrows in suspicion, he continues, “And every follow up question is worth another kiss.”
“This must be very important information.”
“Very.” His hands, still soaking in the feeling of you beneath them, start to play with the hem of your tank top, fingertips slipping beneath the fabric to feel skin. “Better pay up soon.”
You feign a look of shock and place a hand on his chest. “I didn’t even agree yet, don’t get too excited.” 
He pouts with furrowed brows, convinced his offer would be impossible to resist. “Why? Baby, come on,” he urges, holding you tighter, “This is the part where you kiss me.” His eyelids droop with drunkenness and fatigue as he presses his lips to your neck, but you quickly take his jaw in your hand and pull him away. 
“Ah ah ah,” you tease. “You come to bed first, then I’ll give you kisses for your secrets.”
“But I don’t wanna go to bed.” His hands work their way from your waist down to your hips again, soon grazing your thighs the way he knows erupts butterflies in your stomach. “I wanna stay here with you…have you boss me around. You’re very sexy when you do it.” He smirks while looking up at you, and you know for a fact he’s just trying to push your buttons.
You roll your eyes and push his face away as you start to stand up. “You’re a pain in the ass, I hope you know that.” As bitter as you try to sound, you’ll always have a soft spot for him the way he does for you, especially when your bitterness is met with that beautiful smile of his. You hold out both hands, towering over him and urging him to stand. “C’mon, Jay.”
He leans his weight onto his hands, stubborn as always. “Will you stay the night?”
“Not if you keep this up, I won’t.” You lend him a condescending smile. 
“But Baby,” he groans, finally complying now that the stakes have been raised. “I haven’t seen you all day, and I miss you.” He starts to shuffle where he sits, taking hold of your hands as you pull him up, dizziness causing him to stumble into your arms. “Can’t a boy just get some love from his girl?” 
There he goes again—his girl. 
You loop his arm over your shoulder and wrap yours around his waist as you lead him into the Chateau, surrounded by his warmth and the smell that’s so distinctly him: a bit of beachiness, mandarin and musky from his body wash, a hint of marijuana.
“You’re very kind,” he rambles on, “for coming here so late. I missed you.”
“I know, baby. You told me.”
He makes his way up the steps with you, following as you open the door. “Well, I’m making sure you’re sure.”
“I’m sure, love.” You smile to yourself, a little caught off guard with how open he’s become.
“I still have to tell you that top secret information,” he whispers, leaning down to your ear-level. His body wraps around you as you stand in front of him to open the door to his bedroom, his arms start to wrap around your waist again. “And you still owe me kisses for it.”
You usher him into his room, shutting the door behind you. “C’mon, let’s get into bed. That was the rule.”
He does as you wish without complaint for once, though when he does sit at the edge of his bed, he also pulls you to stand in between his legs. “I’m in bed now.”
“I can see that,” you giggle, hands massaging his neck and shoulders.
“Does this mean you’ll give me a kiss now?”
“Not yet.” You tug at the fabric of his shirt. “Take this off, please?” You don’t think much when you say it, but once the words slip out and you see JJ’s brows raise as a cocky smirk crosses his face, you realize you need to cover your tracks.
He bites his tongue to oblige, nabbing the back of his tee before pulling it over his head. Revealed to you are his broad shoulders, his chest, those toned arms that are, admittedly, to die for, though you’d never tell him that directly. 
“You’re trying to undress me, baby?” he asks, too quick for you to correct yourself. His hands take purchase of your hips before taking up your thighs, his hands molding to your curves and getting treacherously close to your inner thighs.
Your face goes hot—why is he so good at this?—but you keep a straight face and grab his face, one hand cupping his jaw while the other supports the back of his head. “Do you want your kiss or not?” 
“Yes ma’am,” he responds, almost immediately. His eyes glaze over, entranced by everything you are. A drunk smile is sent your way, and he can’t really tell whether the tingling all over his body is just from the vodka, or if it’s your hands on his body, your snippy tone that he knows is full of love. He’s sure that no matter how flustered he can make you, it’ll never compare to how you make him feel with even the slightest of touches.
Your grip goes soft, and you rake your hand through his hair, his eyes falling shut and his head gone slack into your hands. “You’re beyond wasted, aren't you?”
He laughs heartily now, eyes still shut as he nods his head. “I can’t keep my eyes open any longer, princess.” Giggles line his words and his face scrunches in a smile, dimple on display.
“How much did you drink?”
“A few beers.”
“And?” You tug lightly on his hair.
“Mm, some vodka, maybe. A few shots.” His hands drag from the backs of your thighs, to your hips, to your waist.
“JJ.” You stare down at his clearly vodka-dazed face. “How many is a few?”
He hums to himself, as deep in thought one can be when wasted. “Maybe seven…or nine…don’t remember,” he mumbles.
You sigh to yourself, not surprised by his recklessness but still not all too happy with it. 
But before you can formulate a single thought, a single articulated response, he starts to pout—eyes still closed of course, because your boy is nothing if not a truth-teller. “You sound mad.” Even when wasted he knows you so well.
“I’m not,” you fib a little, for his own sake. You kiss his forehead, then his cheek before letting go of him entirely to pull back the covers for him. “Come on, time to sleep, yeah?” You give a soft tug on his hand as his body goes pliant.
He slowly but surely crawls properly into bed, giving you a show of his back muscles flexing and relaxing before falling face-first into his pillow with a hmph. You lay down next to him as he lifts his arm with all his might, slowly turning onto his side to make space for you. Legs intertwine without words, the warmth of his body blankets your senses, his weight grounds you.
“You need to hurry, princess. I need to…need to give you the information.” The words are half-muffled by his pillow, and his eyes are still shut. 
“Oh. We’re still doing that?” You’re surprised he even remembers the information at this point—whatever it might be. 
He squeezes you tighter into his body, pulling a smile from you as he groans. “Yes, we’re still doing that…it’s important. You need three more…”
“Okay, okay,” you soothe, and you press a kiss to his shoulder. “Does that count?”
“Mhm, two more.” A stupid, drunk, terribly charming grin crosses his face, and it feels like you’re falling for him all over again, teetering at the edge of a cliff. His arm, still heavy on your waist, shifts a little, and his fingers dance along your back and light fires where they touch.
You curl your hand, gently, along the crook of his neck and kiss his jaw. “And that counts as well?”
With the way you’re whispering your words into his neck, JJ swears he could die happily. “Mm, sure does.”
For the fifth and final kiss, the corner of his mouth. It curls into your kiss like he knew it was coming, and you give him one more just for good measure—and, maybe, because seeing him smile is worth his weight in gold. You brush your hand through his hair before hugging him a little tighter towards your chest, all too aware now that you won’t be getting any information out of him the rest of the night. This minor inconvenience, however, doesn’t seem to compare to having him in your arms, his breath against your neck, his arm wrapped around you to tell you he’s there, and he’s there to stay, and he wants to be there more than anywhere else.
You think that you could play this game a million times over. The part where you kiss him—that is, when his lovely, sweet little smile peeks through that rough shell—will never get old enough to retire.
(But for tonight, you can live without more of his drunken teasing. Just for tonight.)
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mushies-stories · 24 days
Text
Our home
Drabble -Fluff
John Price X GN!Reader
Summary: your newly moved in and John has been spending a lot of time at work, so much that you were starting to really feel neglected. John will make it better though, he has too.
Warnings: crying?
Authors note: hiiii i adore super sweet and adorable price :D thats it, this is comfort and fluffy.
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John had been working later the past few weeks and you were really starting to feel abandoned. He would come home after you were already fast asleep. Though you had tried to stay up later the first week, it became evident he was not going to be coming home anytime soon. He woke so early you barely get to have a sip of coffee with him in your plush robe and messy hair before he's out the door. Leaving you with a kiss to the forehead and a little pout on your lips. 
You were growing more and more fed up with not having a moment with him, you had moved in to be closer but he's been working so much you feel like you're living alone again. You try to convince yourself you're being dramatic, that he’s a captain and he's busy. His work was important and you shouldn’t feel like he's ignoring you… he’s not leaving you behind, no, never… right? You can't help but have those thoughts, that he has already grown tired of you. 
It was when you noticed it had been nearly a month, he had stayed late every night, came home to you sleeping and left before you hardly had time to wake up. The whole day you couldn't help the moping. You shuffled around the house on your day off with nothing to do. You had no motivation to call up a friend or even go to a store. All you wanted was for John to come home early for once or even on time.
You finally got tired, watching a dumb movie on the couch and fell asleep. A blanket half haphazardly slung over your middle while you curled up into a little ball. 
Hours later John was quietly closing the door and taking his boots off when he looked over and saw you. You were asleep on the couch with the movie's home screen lighting the room.
He smiles softly when he crouches in front of you, a hand coming up to stroke your hair. “Love.” he says softly, making you stir in your sleep. “C’mon love, lets get ya ta bed, eh?” his thumb strokes your cheek gently.
You shake your head a little and swat his hand away. “D’wanna.” is all you mumble. 
John cocks a brow at you. “Why not, what's wrong with our bed lovie?” he asks, his fingers continuing to try and soothe you awake.
You nuzzle into the couch a little. “To empty.” your voice is quiet, justice above a whisper. 
Confused John shakes his head before sliding his arms under you then lifting you to his chest. You let out a squeaky yelp and cling to his shirt. He takes you to the bedroom while you try and blink your eyes awake. “What ya talkin’bout? Cause yer pretty self ain't in it, that's why.” he retorts and sets you down on the bed. 
You can't help the tears that immediately form in your eyes when you look up at him. He didn't get it…”No that’s… it’s empty because of-” you hesitate a moment, a tear rolling down your cheek and look down at your lap, avoiding John's eyes.
He doesn't like that. Slowly long fingers are tilting your chin up so your eyes are locked with his. “What is it love, what's wrong?” he asks, voice smooth and calming. He didn’t understand why you were so sad all of a sudden but he didn’t like it.
You blink a few tears away which he swiped at with the pad of his thumb. You let out a shaky breath. “You… it's so empty and you aren't here John.” you finally confess. Your tears fall uncontrollably now and you can’t help the little hiccup that escapes you. You hadn’t even realized you had been this affected until you couldn't stop crying. 
John hates seeing you this way, he never liked when you cried and the fact that he caused it? No he couldn’t have this. You were his world, how could he sit here and watch you suffer because of him.
“Love, I'm sorry, ya know I don't mean to be gone so much.” he sank to one knee in front of you and placed his hands on your thighs, looking up at you. “I love ya so much doll, ya know i do, don't ya?” he asks, eyes focused on your blurry ones. 
You nod a little. “I know…” You tell him, voice hushed and shaky.
He mirrors your small nod with a little smile. “Sometimes i need a little remindin is all. Need you to tell me to slow down sometimes because my work has always taken everything over.” he lets out a short breath. “But i need ya too love, i think about you all day. Been trying to finish up this last bit of preparation and paperwork before this next mission. I'll be gone for a while and i just want to spend as much time with ya before i go.” he explained, the exhaustion and stress written clear across his face.
The way John looked at you, so much care and concern, you knew he didn’t mean to make you feel this way. You smile a little and bring a hand up to his jaw, caressing the softness of his beard. “I'm sorry, I just started to really miss you.” you admit. “i know you work hard, i don't want to add any more stress an-”
“Dove, please dont say stuff like that.” John cuts you off before your head can spiral too fast. “Ya’ve done nothin wrong. Ya need to tell me these things, tell me when yer hurting so i can help. I need ya to be okay above all else, got that?”
Your smile widens a little. “I will, I promise.” you say and lean in to press your soft lips to his, giving him a gentle kiss. “I love you John.” you tell him when you pull back to look into his eyes again. “I don't know what I'd do without you.” 
With his hands now traveling along your thighs, John smirks up at you. “Probably better off.” he jokes, a little. 
You swat at his shoulder and shake your head. “Don't say that.” you scold with a half-hearted scowl. “You're good for me John, you can't tell me otherwise.” you say adamantly. 
He smiles at you, big and genuine. “Well, how’sbout this, tomorrow i'll go to the barracks, delegate a little and come home early?” John offers, his hands now kneading your plush thighs. His calloused fingers
Your eyes light up. “Really?” 
He nods. “Really, the boys can handle it for one day.” He says.
You wrap your arms around his neck and nuzzle a little into his neck. “I'd really like that.” you say, voice going shaky again. Your tears were from joy and relief however. John was so kind and he listened to you, never blamed you and treated you so wonderfully. You were glad you were here with him, in his home and his life. 
John welcomed your embrace by wrapping his own arms around your back, pulling you into his lap on the ground. You giggled when he peppered the side of your head with kisses. “So, what do you want to do tomorrow, whatever you want, love.” 
You think for a moment but only one thought comes to mind. “I want to stay here, at home. I want to spend that day relaxing and enjoying some peaceful time together… maybe we could make dinner together too?” you offer, pulling back enough to look up at him a little. 
“That sounds wonderful love.” He agrees and kisses the top of your head.
Tomorrow couldn’t come fast enough you thought.
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