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mikki-selfships · 23 days

Text

Thought I would expand on this post a bit...

Pairing: Johnny x fem!Reader (american, unfortunately), tried to keep the reader's body type and race relatively neutral (but this lil fic is also completely self-indulgent and I'm fat and Asian so take that as you will).

Tags/warnings: alcohol, suggestive language, some semi-public making out, but no explicit sex (yet?), bad scottish accent. (if I left anything out please let me know!!)

A/N: This is my first time doing any sort of creative writing since college and I wrote this in my notes app so please be so nice to me. I'm sorry this isn't smut galore, it's more just a set up for everything. Although I do have plans to make things more spicy, I'm just a lil nervy about it. Anyways.... enjoy!

Part 2

Your eyes follow the trail left by the bead of condensation as it makes its slow descent down the side of your frosted martini glass. Picking up the speared olives by the skewer, you twirl it between your fingers before sliding one off into your mouth. Savoring the briney bite before washing it down with a sip of your cocktail.

You had an early flight tomorrow and weren't planning on being hungover for it. Just attempting to decompress after a day of meetings and to soothe some of the jitters for your upcoming trip at a pub down the street from your hotel. There weren't many patrons this evening, and the dark lighting allowed for some additional anonymity.

In your peripheral, a body slides into the stool a few down from you. Not looking for any small talk tonight, you keep your eyes trained on your glass. You take another sip and finish off the second olive.

A deep voice colored with a rough Scottish brogue asking for whiskey makes you glance up. You find sparkling blue eyes already on you. They're on a roguishly handsome face. Attached to a devastatingly built body. The man tilts his head, catching you in the act of ogling him.

"Stiff drink for a Monday, no?"

You huff out a laugh. "I suppose, but could say the same to you," nodding at the drink the bartender had placed before him.

He shrugs. "So... American? What brings you to London?"

Maybe small talk isn't so bad if it's with a statue of a Roman god come to life. "Oh, I'm here for a work trip. Last day, actually."

"Ah, a shame. I've just started my leave. Military," he explains. Though you could've guessed from the size of his biceps.

"How'd the UK treat you?"

You mull the question over a sip. "It was mostly enjoyable. Though I'm looking forward to finally having food with seasoning again," you say with a small, teasing smile.

"Cannae blame ye lass. The Brits went through all tha' trouble with the spice trade and promptly forgo' about 'em," he says with a sad shake of his head. "Ye should come to Scotland."

"What's the difference?" Feeling brave, you scoot over one chair. "The food's worse? I've heard about haggis, you know."

"Och, ye wound me!" Feigning injury with his hand clasped over his chest, he slides across to the stool next to you, your knee now brushing his. "Maybe an acquired taste, but a delicacy still."

He's looking at your face with amusement, but you're trying not to stare at the way his denim jeans look like they're painted onto his muscular thighs.

Tearing your eyes back up to his, you can almost count the dark lashes framing his eyes. But before you get too lost in the deep blue, you take in his rather silly haircut.

"A mohawk?"

"Aye, it's tactical. Gives a bonnie lass something to hold onto," he smirks.

Eyeing his dark locks, "Not sure how having less hair to grab would make that any easier," going to finish off your drink.

"Already thinking about pulling my hair, lass? Very forward." He leans closer. "I like it."

You sputter at the insinuation, and he chuckles, leaning back, giving you some space.

He's hitting on you. This absolutely stunning man is hitting on you, and you're not sure why.

You can't help but notice the way his long fingers wrap around his glass as he takes a small swig of the amber liquid. They look strong. And thick. This close to him, you get a faint whiff of cologne and something more natural, as well. It's heady. More intoxicating than your cocktail.

The look on his face says he knows what you're thinking. You've been caught, and you feel your face warm.

"But last night, ye say?" he questions, stretching his arms over his head, gifting you with a peek of his stomach and dark happy trail. "Swear I could make it the highlight of your wee trip."

You have no control over the way your jaw drops, dumbfounded.

Are you actually going to entertain this? The man is arrogant and a complete stranger. You really aren't the type to hook up with handsome men you’ve talked to for less than five minutes. Not that you’ve ever been presented with a situation like this before. But there's a magnetism about him, something pulling you closer to this man. Maybe just the martini hitting you quicker than you were expecting. You can't ignore the heat pooling in your core at the thought of his offer.

The rational part of your brain says to politely depart and get a good night's rest. But the part of your brain focused on the fact you haven't had sex in months after a particularly nasty break up says fuck it. There's an obviously interested, gorgeous man in front of you. Fuck him.

You slap some money down for your drink, saunter towards the door, and turn back, quirking your eyebrow at the Scotsman.

He seems a little shocked, but he scrambles to put a couple bills down and throws back the rest of his whiskey as you push out the door.

You're at the mouth of the dim alley next to the bar when you feel firm hands grasp at your middle, spin you, and pin you up against the wall.

He's got one hand up against the bricks, leaning over you as his other hand drifts down to your hip. Taking in his broad shoulders, you can't help but put a hand out to graze the outline of his pec, feeling the muscle underneath tense.

The Scot looks hungry, eyes trailing up your body. A veritable feast. His gaze lingers on your lips for a moment before his eyes meet yours again.

He starts to open his mouth, and you can tell he's going to say something that could make you regret leading him out here. You quickly clutch his shirt, bring his face down to your level, and crash your lips onto his to shut him up.

Fortunately, he gets the hint.

He deepens the kiss, bringing the hand that was bracing him on the wall down to cradle your face. The other kneading the fat of your hip.

His lips are surprisingly soft and clearly experienced. You feel him roll his hips into yours, and a gasp escapes your lips. He takes the invitation to begin exploring your mouth with his tongue. His kiss still has the bite of whiskey, which has you moaning into his mouth. Your hands trail down his chest over his toned torso. Wandering fingers just reaching the waistband of his jeans, when his breath hitches.

Raucous laughter explodes at the opening of the alley as the doors to the pub burst open, a group spilling out. They don't look your way, but still, you draw your hands back up to his shoulders as you pull away slightly. He groans.

"I'm not really an exhibitionist."

"I think I could change tha'," he murmurs with a gleam in his eye.

You roll your eyes. "I'm staying just around the corner," you offer.

"Well then, what are we waiting for? Lead the way, lass."

You grab his hand and start towards your hotel.

"It's Johnny," he says when you reach the sidewalk.

"What?"

"My name. It's Johnny. You'll need it so you can scream it later."

That almost causes you to stop in your tracks. You were so blinded by lust that you hadn't even gotten the name of the man whose tongue was down your throat moments ago. You give him your own name in return.

He hums. "Pretty. Though I think I'll call ye mine," he quips with a wink.

Could you strain your eyes from rolling them too much? You might need to be careful if he keeps his oneliners up.

"We'll see about that lover boy," you toss over your shoulder, hauling him down the street towards the privacy of your room before you can change your mind.

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You wake up early in the morning with a slight ache in your hips, shocked that you received zero noise complaints last night.

There's a faint rumbling next to you and a heavy arm draped over your stomach. Johnny's sleeping peacefully. He deserves it, you suppose, after the work he put in last night.

A glance at your phone shows you miraculously managed to wake up before your alarm, but it's still almost time to go. You thank your past self for having the foresight to pack up before going out yesterday.

Trying your best not to wake him, you shimmy out from under his arm and sneak your pillow into the space you were occupying. You freeze when he stirs. For a moment you think he might wake up, but he just squeezes the pillow closer and his soft snores resume.

You change into the comfy travel outfit you had set aside. Sweats, your softest tee, and a sweatshirt. After slipping on your sneakers, you turn to the small desk against the wall, eyeing the thin hotel stationary notepad and pen.

You think to write Johnny a note, but you don't want to leave your number or anything. No need to stay in touch. You opt for a little rating of your night together. It's fun. Maybe a little demeaning, but ultimately harmless since you know you'll never see him again. Not that you would turn down another night with the sexy Scotsman. You just had a flight to catch and no intentions of returning to London anytime soon. You scribble out a quick review:

4/5 stars. Nice hands and ate pussy like a god. Talked too much and fuckass haircut though.

You smirk to yourself as you slide the note onto the bedside table. Grabbing your suitcase, you make your way out of the hotel room. Fingers crossed he's up before check out.

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mikki-selfships · 23 days

Note

Damnnnn, 70% of y’all want to see reader getting caught ? That’s crazzyyyy.. me too

Feed us captain 👩‍🦯

combined with:

Anonymous asked:

I know recs are closed but that's crazy that anon requested inexperienced reader with Gaz/Price bc I was gonna request inexperienced reader with Price where he talks her through/teaches her how to ride him 💀

-🌻🐾

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Marigold pt. 5

dbf!Captain John Price x fem!reader

[“Marigold” by Nirvana]

[18+]

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• summary - you and price get caught. let's see how this goes lol. • rating - 18+ • wordcount - 2.1k • warnings - fem!reader, dad’sbestfriend!price, established relationship?, age gap [whatever you want it to be as long as it's legal lmao], unprotected piv, you go for a ride, praise, soft!price, this starts with smut then ends with plot? idk, strong language

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It had been about nine months since you and Price had been "together". Together was a bit of a stretch, but it had been just over nine months since you both began fucking each other, and fucking no one else besides each other. That was basically together, right?

With your dad out of the house for the day, you had invited Price around. You missed him. And although you had the intentions of just spending a cozy, lazy day with him, that idea flew out the window as soon as he walked through your bedroom door.

So you now find yourself straddling Price as he leans up against your headboard, his large hands on your hips. You have your hands on his shoulders as he slowly sinks you onto his cock, a soft groan passing through his lips. You keen, moaning desperately as he fills you slowly. It's almost too slow.

His cock drags along your walls, inching further and further. Price doesn't let you take control until the head of his cock nestles taut against your cervix, your clit flush with the thatch of hair around the base of his length.

You whimpered loudly as he grinds you against him, your body automatically listening to his non-verbal commands. The movements shoot hot bursts into the depths of your womb, swirling around the base of your tummy, your legs clamping tight around his lap.

"Come on then, sweetheart. Want you to ride me," he whispered, nosing the soft skin beneath your ear. "You can do that, can't you?"

You whimpered again, muscles already tired. After all, he had just dragged three orgasms from you five minutes ago. Two with his mouth, another with his fingers.

He kissed up the column of your throat as you attempted to drag yourself against him, but you whimpered for a third time when you couldn't be fucking bothered. Muscles, orgasm-lax. Core, fluttering and pulsing around him.

"Tired, sweetheart?" Price cooed gently, taking hold of your hips once more. "S'all right. I'll help you. I'll teach you."

He began to move you with his hands, pushing and pulling your hips in a fluid movement. He dragged you up and down gently, too, and you felt overstimulated at the feel of his hard cock against your slick walls. You whined at Price's gentle pace, and at the fact you could feel everything.

Your slick hole was a fluttering mess around him, making Price groan deeply into your neck, where he continued to suck bruises along the sensitive flesh. He rocked you against him, side to side, up and down. His grip was tight, but he was so gentle. He guided you through it, speaking softly, nothing more than a whisper as he praised you.

"Good girl, there you go. Just like that," he murmured, peppering kisses along your collarbone now. "Feel's so good. Making me feel so good."

You hummed a moan, scared that it would turn into another loud whimper. Price detached from your collarbone and placed his mouth to yours, kissing you slow. It lacked definitive movement, your lips smoothing together, smearing saliva as his tongue swiped against yours. You whined, your clit stimulated as he ground you against his pelvis.

"Perfect girl, sweetheart. My perfect girl. S'that feel good? You feel good, baby?"

You nodded, eyelids drooping. His cock was warm and heavy inside you, knocking firmly at the plug of your womb. Your arousal pooled around his cock and out of your cunt, stretched wide around him and glistening with the remnants of three orgasms already.

Your fourth one was already building. Buzzing like static in your lower abdomen, blooming into heat that made your legs tremble around Price's lap. His grip on you tightened, and he watched you as your face contorted in pleasure— eyes closing, teeth sinking into your bottom lip.

"Feels so good, doesn't it, sweetheart?"

"J-John..."

It was always when you were the most overstimulated, the most desperate, that his first name slipped out. And he fucking loved it, which is probably why he was so intent on getting multiple orgasms out of you each time you slept together.

"You can come, pretty girl. You want to come 'round my cock, yeah? Go on then, let go for me, sweetheart. Want to feel you come 'round me."

You moaned quietly as your orgasm rocked through you. You sobbed out in pleasure, the sting of pleasurable tears at the back of your eyes as you came around his cock. Your cunt squeezed him tight, and he grunted softly, continuing to fuck his cock into you as you fell lax against him.

"That's it, that's it, 'atta girl, so fucking good for me," he mumbled, thrusting into you a bit harder now, your arms clinging to his shoulders. "Such a good girl, baby. Did so well. 'M so proud of you, sweetheart."

You sobbed against his shoulder, body burning up. It felt so good. You were growing dizzy, overstimulation blanketing you. But Price kept you grounded.

"M'coming, m'coming, fucking hell..." He dragged out, grunting. He came deep inside you, filling you full and warm. You whimpered out, and he rubbed his hands down your back, soothing you.

You both fizzled down from your highs together, evening your breathing in silence. Soon after, Price lifted you from his lap and tucked you beneath your bedsheets, placing a kiss to your temple.

"Get some rest." He told you, before he was disappearing into your bathroom.

He had a quick shower, scrubbing himself using your body wash. He liked to smell like you. It was his favourite smell besides his own cologne. After, he wrapped a towel around his waist and, with his stomach grumbling, headed downstairs in search of something to eat.

He settled for some cereal, and ate it leaning against the kitchen counter. He wanted to eat with you, but the way you passed out as soon as he tucked you into bed made him stay downstairs, not wanting to disturb you further.

Halfway through his cereal, Price heard a car come up the driveway. He paused, spoon near his lips, listening as the engine stopped and a door open and closed. Footsteps, paired with a distinct humming.

Price lowered his spoon, sighing.

Your dad. Home early. Of course he was.

Now, Price knew that eventually, eventually, he'd come out and tell your dad— his best mate— that you and him were seeing each other. He just didn't expect it to be today. When he was wearing nothing but a towel. Eating cereal in your kitchen. You asleep and naked upstairs.

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it." His own words echoed around his head.

I guess today was the day he was crossing that fucking bridge.

Your dad entered the kitchen, humming happily to himself, but pulled up short when he saw Price in the kitchen. Price nodded in greeting, continuing to eat his cereal.

"Price, mate, what're you doing here?" Your dad smiled. "And... in a towel? Eating my cereal..."

Price shrugged. "Just thought I'd stop by. I... need to talk to you about something anyway."

"What's up?" Your dad asked, settling onto one of the barstools at the kitchen island across from Price. He looked Price up and down, letting out a low whistle. "Price, mate, how are you still in such good shape?"

Price chuckled. "That good ol' military physique, eh?"

Your dad chuckled too, his eyes on Price's neck. He laughed again, pointing to his own neck in a slightly awkward gesture. "You didn't tell me you had a lady?"

Hickeys.

Fuck.

Price cleared his throat. "That's... what I wanted to talk to you about."

He put his bowl of cereal in the sink adjacent, appetite gone. Your dad waited patiently for him to continue, a small smile on his lips.

"I've... been seeing this woman for about nine months now," Price said. "She's the best thing that's ever happened to me. I genuinely couldn't imagine my life without her."

"Aww, how sweet." Your dad pouted, then chuckled softly. "D'you love her?"

"I do, yeah. I love her so much," Price ignored the emotion he could feel building up in the back of his throat. "There's just... a couple things I think you should know."

"You don't need my permission to date people anymore, Price. We're not twenty anymore," your dad said. "Unless it's my ex-wife. That would be deeply concerning."

"It is definitely not your ex-wife." Price replied.

"Good!" Your dad laughed. "So, do I know her?"

"Yeah, you do."

"Oh, really? Who?"

Price cleared his throat.

"Price, mate?"

Price sighed. "It's... fucking hell, I'm sorry."

"Sorry for—?"

"It's your daughter," Price said quickly. "I'm dating your daughter."

Your dad's mouth hung agape, and silence filled the kitchen. Price kept your dads gaze as best he could. He was fucking scared.

Your dad closed his mouth, and slowly got out of his seat. Price held a hand towards him, a gesture to take it easy and hold on for a second.

"My... daughter?" Your dad spoke lowly.

"Yeah... yes, fuck, I'm sorry, mate, this is not how I wanted to tell you—"

"You're dating my daughter?"

Price nodded. "I love her. I feel like such a shitty fucking friend, but I'm in love with her. I'm serious when I said she's the best thing to ever happen to me—"

"Price, I know you're my best friend," your dad was rounding the kitchen island now. "But I'm going to fucking kill you."

"Fair enough." Price said, and ran.

Your dad chased after him, Price holding his towel up as he sprinted out of the kitchen. He skidded into the hallway, careful not to slip on the hardwood floors, and flew up the stairs. Your dad was right behind.

"Price, you fucking bastard!" Your dad shouted. "My daughter? Of all fucking people?"

"I told you I'm sorry!" Price yelled back, reaching the top of the stairs. "I'm in love with her!"

"Like fuck you are!" Your dad growled as Price slammed into the door of your bedroom and tumbled inside.

Luckily, you were awake and dressed, shocked by the commotion. Price hit the ground, still holding desperately onto the towel around his waist, and your dad stepped over him. He pulled his pistol out of his belt and jammed it beneath Price's jaw.

Well, that fucking escalated.

"Dad! Stop!" You shouted, scrambling off your bed and diving to the floor, literally throwing yourself on top of Price and knocking your dads arm away.

Your dad backed up, fuming.

"You're dating John?" He breathed deeply, out of breath. He gripped his pistol, knuckles tight around it.

You swallowed nervously, feeling the rapid rise and fall of Price's bare chest beneath your hands. "I am."

Your dad cocked the pistol, and you let out a scared yelp.

"Dad, don't!"

"Move, honey."

"Please—"

"Get out of the way."

"I love him!"

Your dad paused. Price looked up at him, still catching his breath. You continued to lay your upper half over his chest protectively.

"I love him," you repeated in a whisper. "He treats me so well, Dad. I feel safe with him. Shouldn't that be what you are about most of all?"

Your dad seethed silently, looking between you and Price on the floor. Then, with a great sigh, he sunk to the floor too. He sat near the door, his pistol still in his hands while Price sat up, and you sat beside him, an arm around his waist.

"How long has this been happening?"

"Nine months." Price said.

"And... you're serious? About... about loving her?" Your dad asked as though the words were painful to get out.

Price answered straight away. "Yes."

Your dad pinched the bridge of his nose, screwing his eyes shut in anger. He took a deep breath before he looked back up. He looked to you now.

"You love him, eh?"

You nodded.

"And he treats you well?"

You nodded again.

"For fucks sake," he hissed, then threw the pistol at Price. It hit Price's chest, and Price grunted. Your dad sighed. "Why'd it have to be my daughter, Price? What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"A lot of things." He said. He picked up the pistol, and found that it was empty.

Your dad calmed himself. "Right... right, okay. I'm really fucking pissed but... I mean, you're an adult, honey. I'm... I'm not going to stop you from seeing Price, but I'm not fucking happy about it."

You beamed. You couldn't help it.

"You'll come around." Price said.

Your dad scowled. "Don't fucking push it."

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i stopped it here because i'm lazy

honestly this turned out so unserious but i think i prefer it that way lol

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