#Johnny turns into a little bitch when he’s close

[texas-writes]

Calander Girl

Johnny Cage x Model! Reader

I did NOT mean to lake this shit so long. I literally got possessed by a cock demon

Cw: piv sex, adult modeling, oral (m and f recieving) a lot of cum, cum eating, overstimulation

When Johnny Cage had first met you it was a total accident. He’d been way too caught up in a phone call with his agent, bitching about not wanting to work on another rom-com when he walked his happy ass onto the wrong soundstage.

It had taken him a solid minute to register that he was in the wrong place, staring at you laying bare on your stomach, propped up on your elbows with nothing but a cheap American Flag covering your ass. He watched intently as you kicked your foot up in the air with your toes pointed and popped your gum, vintage curls bouncing as you finally looked his way.

Your big doe eyes catch his as he admires you and you bring your thumb up to your red lips to stifle a giggle. Johnny starts as the camera clicks and the flash box goes off, apologizing profusely and ducking off the set. He wouldn’t know it for a while, but he was your lucky break.

The smile you had given him had secured your place as Miss June, that summer’s All American Girl, giving a strong-armed salute in a sailor style swimsuit with a Dixie cap balanced precariously over your victory rolls on the cover of that month’s issue. Your tight body and inviting face was going to “give the American Dream a breath of fresh air” as your photographer had claimed.

Your photos inside the magazine were significantly less wholesome, but still endearing nonetheless, licking whipped cream off of a beater in a white halter and high waisted sailor shorts, you leaning on that god-awful plaster anchor in nothing but stockings, heels and a white bullet bra with your legs strategically positioned to leave something to the imagination, the innocent smile you had given Johnny, and then in the middle, there you were, fully nude in those same heels and stockings, waving a handkerchief above your head with one foot kicked up behind you. “Hello, Sailor,” read the caption above you in a cheesy Americana font.

Nobody was looking at that stupid shit anyways.

When Johnny had walked into the gas station on his birthday, his first birthday alone in who knows how long, he’d decided to get himself a present. Walking to the back and picking up a twelve pack of Modelo and a single Red Bull, he’d found himself at the magazine rack beside the bathroom, leafing through the latest issues of Hustler and Penthouse before landing on his go-to. Playboy. Without looking he plucked it off the rack and made his way to the register, paid for his things, and left eager to get home and enjoy himself.

After he got home and stripped down to his boxers, he crawled into his plush California King and cracked open a beer, tossing his girly mag to the side to enjoy a couple of drinks before getting to business.

Three beers later he’s feeling loose and a little less bad about the whole ‘single’ thing he had going on, he pulls his half erect dick from his boxers, stroking it lazily, and returns his attention to the magazine.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he mutters when he looks down and sees you of all people. He couldn’t jerk off to you, he’d met you for God’s sake. Well, kind of, but it was the principle, really. He tucks himself back into his underwear and sighs, tossing his head back in defeat.

“Well,” he reasons with himself. “It wouldn’t hurt if I just looked.” That’s what you had been there for, to be looked at, no different than him really. Besides, it wasn’t anything he hadn’t seen before on any woman, or you for that matter, and you just looked so damn cute on the cover with your bright eyes and big smile. How could he resist?

He flips through the pages, chuckling to himself at how corny the theme they had given you was. He was however taken aback when he saw what he’d seen just a month prior in front of him once again. That smile, his smile, if he dared, was just as endearing as it had been the first time, making his heart skip a beat. He sighs dreamily and turns the page, unfolding the pages and taking in all of you.

“Hello Sailor, indeed,” he breathes, not quite enjoying the way his cock twitches, making him hastily fold you back up and toss you on the nightstand, grabbing the remote instead. There had to be something good on pay per view.

“Do I have to do this,” you protest, pulling up your jeans and making sure your g-string is tastefully exposed before pulling the French-cropped trans am shirt over your head.

“No, but it’ll be fun, and they’ll be super famous people there too,” Lainey promises, pulling the hem of her dress down to an acceptable just-below-the-asscheek length.

“Yeah. They’ll probably be too famous to recognize me.”

“If you hate the attention so much, why'd you do this? Genuine question, I promise I’m not being mean.”

“I wanted to be an actress, and thought this would get my foot in the door. I just don’t like being recognized only from the neck down.”

“Hey you covered your tattoo on film, so maybe you’ll be alright.”

You look down at the pink nautical star on the inside of your wrist, right on your pulse point and nod. “Yeah. Cause that’s what they’ll be looking at.”

“Ugh, well, I tried. We gotta go before we’re late.”

You weren’t exactly sure what this party was for, or if it was just a happening, but Lainey was the one that found it and she had been in the game longer than you had, so you took her professional opinion. So there you were, leaning against the bar, idly stirring your drink, enjoying the clinking sound the ice makes when you look up and see him.

“Holy shit. Holy shit, Lainey, it’s that guy,” you hiss, wrapping your arm around her shoulder and pulling her close. “The one I told you about.” She looks over her other shoulder, her bottle-blonde hair whacking you in the face in the process. It smelled like strawberries.

“Are you fucking stupid,” she hisses back, giving you the most dumbfounded look you’ve ever seen. “That’s Johnny fuckin’ Cage!”

You peer around her. “Huh? I guess it is. Didn’t notice then. Was too nervous,” you explain, unwrapping a stick of gum and inspecting it.

“Well? What are you waiting for? Go talk to him!”

Before you can protest she’s untangled herself from your grasp and shoved you towards him.

You take a deep breath, shove the stick of gum into your mouth and push yourself the rest of the way, coming up beside him.

“Excuse me,” you call, your voice barely audible over the clamor of the party, but he still turns around, his face lighting up when he notices who you are.

“Hey! You’re that girl, sorry about that, by the way. I’m sure that was embarrassing. My fault really. I was on the phone with my agent. He never listens.”

“Well, Mr. Cage-“

“Johnny, please,” he insists, running his hand through his hair.

“Johnny. If you hadn’t walked onto my set I would’ve never smiled like that and gotten myself here.”

“Oh?”

“You know I didn’t realize it was you until just a few minutes ago. I just saw a handsome guy and got all embarrassed.”

He chuckles. “Same here. The embarrassed part, not the hot guy part. I don’t-” He lets out a defeated sigh and then rolls his shoulders back. “You’re the beautiful one though. You totally deserved to be Miss June. Say, if I bring you a copy would you sign it for me?”

“You want my autograph?”

“Sure, why not. You looked real cute on the cover. I can frame it, say I met you before you hit the big time.”

You laugh and look up at him. “You know, I thought famous people were supposed to be dicks.”

“Me? No way. I can’t vouch for most of these people though. Do you want to act, or do you just do stills,” He asks, taking a step back, seeming to size you up.

“I’m here to act. The stills are just a… temporary detour,” you admit, worrying the hem of your shirt between your fingers nervously.

“You know, my agent? The one I was on the phone with when I had my location mishap? Keeps calling me about this rom-com they want me for and I told him ‘No way, José’ unless they stop trying to pick women that look like my ex-wife to play the girl, you know everyone loves a blonde lead.”

He looks at you and sighs again. He sure sighed a lot for a grown man. Maybe it was nerves? Nah, couldn’t be. He was Johnny fucking Cage, after all.

“Listen if I can convince them to pick you up instead, you’ll be doing me a huge solid if you take it. You in?”

“What’s the catch,” you question, popping your gum at him.

“The catch?”

“Yeah. What’ll you want in return?”

“There is no catch. Studio gets their movie, you get to act and I don’t have to be constantly reminded that my wife left me. Everyone goes home happy. Well, almost everyone. Look, I don’t wa-expect you to fuck me if that’s what you mean.”

“Want?”

His cheeks flush and he gives you a confused look that’s a little too polished to be real.

“You almost said want but then stopped yourself.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure Johnny. Well, either you can keep lying to both of us, or you can get me out of here and get what you want.”

“You fucking serious?”

“Why not? Been trying to leave since I got here.”

He just chuckles and snakes an arm around your waist, tugging you close to him, leaning down next to your ear. “Your place or mine?”

“Your bed’s probably bigger,” you tease, sliding your hand into his back pocket and giving his muscular ass a squeeze as he leads you towards the door.

You glance over at the bar to find Lainey staring at you with a slack-jawed look of disbelief. You give her a shiny white smile and an exaggerated finger wave as you pass.

When you get to Johnny’s car he unlocks it from across the parking garage with the fob and jogs ahead to open your door for you, flashing you a grin as he closes it back behind you. The interior is all brown leather, making you scared to touch anything, so you just fold your hands politely into your lap.

The man of the hour ducks into the car a moment later, hitting the push-button ignition and gives it a rev. “What do you think? Nice huh? It’s an Aston Martin.

“I like the leather. Scared to touch it though.”

“Don’t be. Get comfortable Sweetheart,” he grins, looking over his shoulder as he backs out of the parking spot.

You cautiously unfold your hands and stretch your legs out, leaning back in the seat a bit.

Johnny’s hand slowly crosses the center console of the car and comes to rest on your thigh, rubbing his thumb in wide circles along the rough denim of your jeans. You ease your trembling hand towards his, lacing your pinkie with his.

“You alright?”

“Yeah, why?”

“You’re shaking.”

“Never been with someone famous. Little nerve-wracking is all,” you reply, giving his pinkie a squeeze.

“I can drop you home if you’d prefer, Sweetheart,” he offers, looking over at you and giving you a softer, more genuine smile.

“I’m okay, really.”

“Promise?”

“Yeah, promise.”

When you pull into his driveway you force yourself to not look surprised. You’d known his place would be big, but honestly, that was an understatement. You were so far out of your element that there wasn’t any going back. Sure, you’d been in a mansion before, hell you lived in one, granted it was almost a sorority situation in nature, but still.

Johnny parks in the underground garage and comes around to let you out, snaking his arm around your waist as soon as you’re standing. You give him a soft smile and let your hand find its way into his back pocket again, earning a single laugh from him.

He leads you through the garage and up a small flight of stairs into the living room, gesturing for you to sit on the couch.

“Sooooo, can I get you a drink or something?”

“Such a gracious host. We can drink if you want.”

“Awesome. You like ‘em fruity or straight.”

“Whichever you want.”

“I’m gonna go make daiquiris then. Make yourself at home baby,” he calls, slipping away towards the kitchen. He sounded excited at the prospect of having a fruity little drink. It was endearing.

You kick your shoes off and take them over to the door, lining them up carefully just barely not touching the wall before returning to the couch and folding your feet up underneath you. God, you’re really here sitting on some A-listers couch while he fixes drinks for the two of you. Did this count as a date? No, this was just a hook-up. But why was he doing more than he had to? Maybe? Nah. Well-

Your thoughts were ground to a halt by the sound of a blender full of ice running at full speed. Whatever. You were getting a mixed drink and some (hopefully) good dick, so nothing else really mattered.

Johnny comes back a couple minutes later with two glasses full of vibrant red slushie with bendy straws. He hands you one and flops down beside you, patting his thigh. You debate with yourself for a moment before throwing your legs over his lap, smiling around your straw when he rests his free hand on your knee.

“How long have you been in L.A.,” he questions, taking a moment to bend his straw into a little loop before returning his hand to your leg, higher this time.

“About six months or so. Got the gig with Playboy and moved out here. Thanks for the drink by the way.”

“No problem. Are you staying at the Mansion or do you have your own place?”

“I’m at the Mansion. It’s kind of lame honestly. I have to share a room with another of the bunnies, but apparently things are different now that Coop’s in charge. I think I’ve seen him like, twice ever.” You take a long slurp of your drink and have to fend off a fast-approaching brain freeze.

“Yeah. I heard Hef used to be a real menace. Glad you don’t have to put up with him.”

“It’s nice. Free place to live out here is awesome. We just have to take turns making breakfast for everyone and look good at parties.”

“Not hard for you to do,” he replies, rubbing his thumb along your leg again.

You chuckle at his complement, but can’t manage to fight off the pink that tinges your cheeks.

“Johnny?”

“Yeah baby?”

“You don’t think I’m easy do you?”

“No way. If you were easy we’d be halfway done by now, besides anyone’d jump at the opportunity to come home with me.”

“Conceited much,” you joke, tugging his shirt sleeve with your toes.

“Me? No way,” he teases, giving you a wink

“Sure…”

“How’s your drink?”

“‘S good.”

“Glad to hear it. C’mere,” he urges, wrapping his arm around your waist, pulling you into his lap and you let him. “You seem like a sweet girl and I wanna treat you right, see where this goes, ya know.”

“Seriously,” you ask, returning your attention to your drink trying to stave off the fresh anxiety bubbling up in your tummy.

“Sure, or it can just be a one time thing if you want. I just don’t want you feeling tossed aside.”

“We’ll see what happens,” you murmur, leaning away, relying entirely on his arm around your waist to put your empty cup on the coffee table before wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him. His shoulders relax and he kisses you back, not bothering to pull away as he leans to put his cup with yours so his hands can focus on holding onto you.

The two of you kiss until you’re lightheaded and have no choice but to pull away panting. “Fuck, Johnny, you’re so fuckin’ hot.”

“Mh, that’s you baby. You want to take the party upstairs?”

“Let’s go,” you whisper, grabbing his face and smashing your lips to his again. He smiles against you and gathers you up in his toned arms, carrying you up the stairs.

His room was just as extravagant as the rest of his house, as you had expected. He sets you down and steps back, kicking off his own shoes and disappearing into what you assume to be the closet. You walk over and sit on the edge of his king-size bed, running your hands along the plush black comforter and taking in the painting above the headboard. It was a Warhol.

Johnny comes back out of the closet in just his slacks and sits beside you. “Nice painting, right?”

“Yeah,” you respond almost blankly, before returning your attention to him, noticing his tattoo. He really was conceited, but looking at the rest of him, he had good reason to be.” I’d forgotten about this one. Figure most people have though, everything except for his pop art.”

“What’s your favorite painting?” What an unusually thoughtful question to ask given the situation. It deserved a thoughtful answer.

“Christina’s World. Reminds me of myself in a way, getting to where I want to be by sheer force of will, despite it all.”

“Well, you got there.”

“I still want more.”

“And you’ll have it. One day you’ll look back and it’ll be hard to remember when you didn’t.”

“Can’t imagine forgetting.”

“Didn’t say you’d forget how you got there. You forget how miserable it was because it's paid off. Nothing’s better than that.”

“Sappy.”

“I try.”

“Do you want me to suck your dick?”

His back stiffens and he turns to face you. “Huh?”

“I asked if you want me to suck your dick.”

“Oh, you mean like- actually. I thought you were being facetious. Be my guest- if you want.”

You laugh and slide off the bed, kneeling between his toned legs, bringing your hands to rest on his belt buckle.

“You sound nervous,” you tease, undoing his belt and unzipping his fly.

“It’s been a while.”

“Yeah, me too. I’m probably no good anymore.”

“I’m sure you’ll do fine sweetheart.”

Your fingers make quick work of the button on his slacks, finally reaching into his boxers and pulling his cock out. Oh. He was big. It was your turn to be nervous again, gulping and taking a deep breath before pressing a kiss to his flushed tip. You decide to take it slow, peppering him with kisses and kitten licks before finally taking him into your mouth, taking your time to get used to each inch before forcing yourself lower. His fingers work their way into your hair, not forcing your head down, but following along as you take him in. The pants falling from his lips slowly morph into soft whimpers, whining whenever you run your tongue along the vein running down his length.

You make it about three quarters down before you gag and pull away abruptly, making him whine in protest. Hot tears slide down your cheeks and you swallow thickly, holding the back of your wrist to your mouth, fighting the urge to puke all over his spotless white carpet.

“You okay sweetheart,” he murmurs, untangling his hand from your hair and cupping your cheek with it, urging you to look up at him. Your eyes meet his and you find an unexpected softness there.

“Y-yeah. I’m fine. Overestimated myself, I think,” you reply, leaning forwards to take him again, but his hand returns to your hair and tugs you away,

“You don’t have to try again if you don’t want. You did good.”

“Wanna make you cum,” you whine, leaning forward again, not caring about the sore tug at your scalp. His hand just follows your head again, letting you do as you please. You’re more mindful of yourself this time, taking him deeper into your throat at your own pace, not the one you thought he wanted, digging your fingers into his hips to balance yourself.

“Fuck, baby. Just like that, feels s’good,” he groans, pulling his hand from your hair and fisting the comforter to stop himself from just shoving you the rest of the way down. Despite his lack of trying his hips raise up to meet you and he groans deeply when you look up and lock eyes with him. “You’re doin’ so good, so proud of you.”

His praise goes straight to your pussy and you finish taking him in, pressing your nose into the light brown hair trailing down his tummy, scrunching your face up whenever it tickles. It really had been a long time since you’d sucked dick, especially one this big, and you’d forgotten how much you enjoyed it, rutting your hips against nothing looking for any kind of friction, but coming up empty.

“I’m so fuckin’ close, where do you want me to-”

You pull back, hollowing your cheeks and giving his head some attention before taking all of him back in, moaning as his fingertips dig into your scalp as you let him fuck your face as he cums down your throat with a pathetic moan. After a couple more shallow thrusts he holds your cheeks as you pull away from him and swallow thickly.

“Fuck baby, that was amazing. Thought you said it’d been a while.”

You take a ragged breath and look up at him. “It has.”

“You’re a fuckin’ pro. Shit, look at you, so hot, all ruined like that. Come here,” he coaxes, sliding his arms under yours and pulling you up towards him. You let him sit you in his lap and baby you, wiping at your tears and kissing you on the forehead before he stands up and pulls the sheets back, laying you in his bed. You look over and notice the teddy bear sitting against one of the pillows.

“Cute,” you comment, grinning at him when he leans over and knocks it into the floor.

“You didn’t see that.”

“Sure.” He shuts you up with a kiss, slipping his hand under your shirt and tracing his way up your ribs to squeeze your breast.

“Your turn,” he smirks, making quick work of pulling your shirt over your head and dropping it into the floor. “You’re so fucking pretty,” he growls, leaning down to nip at your collarbone.

“Nothing you haven’t seen before,” you tease, pushing your chest into his greedy hand

“Much better in person though. I’m a hands-on learner.”

You just sigh and let him peel you out of your clothes. He stops when he tosses your jeans off, taking a moment to stare at your g-string.

“What’s this even supposed to cover,” he questions, pulling it off as well, spinning it around on his finger.

“It’s just for decoration.”

“Clearly.”

You laugh and snatch it off his finger, tossing it back at him

“For me?”

“If you want it. Don’t know if you can pull it off though.”

“Baby I can pull off anything.”

He quickly loses interest in the tiny garment and returns his attention to you, bringing a hand between your thighs and leaning down to kiss you, his chest pressing against yours deliciously.

“Johnny,” you whine, rutting your hips against his hand, which has been tracing along everywhere except where you need it. “Don’t tease.”

“Let me have my fun.”

He slides one finger through your folds, ghosting up and down along your clit, taking you in as you squirm underneath him before plunging it into you. You sigh and grind your hips down against his palm, keening when his thumb brushes your clit. His free hand takes its place kneading at your breast, tracing his fingers over your clothed nipple.

“You should take this off too baby,” he murmurs, popping the strap of your powder blue bra. You just arch your back so he can reach behind you to unclasp it, sighing in relief as he pulls it off your body and tosses it aside. “That’s better. You’re so hot baby,”

He eases his finger out of you and returns with another, expertly curling his finger into your sweet spot. When his thumb leaves your clit you groan in protest, accepting his decision when he replaces it with his mouth. His tongue was warm and wet as presses it to you. He groans and quickens his fingers, curling his fingers harshly into your warm sex, his lips locking around your clit making your head spin.

Johnny makes you cum with expert precision, not letting up despite you tugging harshly at his sandy blond hair. He just looks up at you with those big brown eyes of his, smirking against you while he eats you out like a starved man. His fingers have slowed to a steady rhythm and he’s mostly focusing on you with his mouth now. You can feel your body starting to tense again, and you throw your head back into the pillow and let him keep abusing your cunt.

Your second orgasm crashes over you harder than the first, making you dig your heels into the mattress, your trembling thighs squeezing his head, but still, he persists.

“Johnny,” you whimper, digging your nails into his shoulders, but there’s really no deterring him. You felt like you were on fire, your head swimming and every move he made sending shocks through your muscles. Finally he pulls away, moving his thumb back to your clit, rubbing gentle circles over it as he looks up at you. His chin’s coated in your juices and he really doesn’t seem to care. He just watches as you squirm under his touch, flashing you a well-practiced smile when your eyes meet.

The third orgasm makes your vision go white and you reach down, weakly grabbing at his wrist, silently begging for mercy. “‘S too much,” you whine, trying to free yourself from his touch but he just grabs your hip, pulling you back to him, making you fuck his fingers.

“Come on baby, you can give me one more.”

“Can’t.”

“Yes you can. You’re doing so good.”

“J-Johnny…”

“What if I do this,” he taunts, letting go of your hip and pressing the heel of his hand into the soft flesh just above your mons. You cry out and gush around his fingers, going completely limp as he slows his pace to a stop, easing his fingers out of you and moving to lay beside you.

You just lay there, entirely fucked out, your breathing ragged and your cunt squeezing around nothing. Fat tears roll down your cheeks, clumping your lashes and taking what's left of your mascara with them. Johnny runs his hands along your body, making you shiver, but successfully drawing you back to this plane of existence.

He just lets you lay there, feeling your warm skin, smiling at how helpless he’s made you. His cock strains painfully against his slacks so he decides to do away with them, discarding them and his boxers with the rest of your clothes. Finally you’re cohesive enough to have control over your own body and you turn to look at him. He just looks so fucking good, his normally kempt hair a spiky mess from your desprate fingers. His lips are swollen and a deep shade of pink, parted slightly as he breathes. He flashes you another smile and tosses his leg over yours, shamelessly grinding his dick against your thigh.

“Shit,” you sigh. “That was just foreplay.”

“Told you I’d make it worth your time.”

“You weren’t lying. Never cum like that in my life.”

He gives you a cocky smile, giving your cunt a light slap, making you yelp.

“You think you’re ready for the real deal,” He questions, climbing on top of you and kissing you deeply, forcing his tongue into your mouth and licking at the backs of your teeth. He pulls away, his tongue darting out to break the string of spit connecting you as he awaits your answer.

“I’ll take whatever you give me,” you respond, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and pulling him down for another kiss, rolling your hips against his.

He just reaches between you and lines himself up, pressing in slowly, giving you plenty of time to adjust. The stretch is amazing and you lock your ankles around his lower back, urging him to bottom out. When he finally does, he just stops, pressing himself impossibly deeper and holding you there.

“You’re so fuckin’ wet. Gonna make me embarrass myself.” he purrs. “Don’t care though. Too fuckin’ good.”

Johnny takes a moment to take in how you look under him and realizes he could get used to the view. Living room sunset be damned, this was his new favorite thing to watch. He looks down to where your bodies are joined, taking note of the bulge in your tummy and the way it pulses when his cock twitches. You were going to be the death of him.

Finally he pulls back, almost all the way out before slamming back into you, setting a punishing pace, digging his fingertips into your hips, eyes fixed on your stomach as he fucked you. Your view wasn’t too bad either, watching his abs ripple as he pounded into you, the way his hair fell down into his face covering his focused expression. Every thrust brushed against your cervix, unbridled moans falling from your lips.

Johnny’s pants slowly morph into grunts that quickly become needy sounds as his pace falters, bringing his hand to your clit once again, urging you to cum before he does. That was your final straw, every muscle in your body contracting as your fifth orgasm hits you like a ton of bricks.

“Fuck,” he growls as he pulls out of you harshly, fisting his cock a couple of times before spilling across your tummy. He looks up at you with an animalistic expression, chest heaving as his fingers dig deeper into the flesh of your hips. He looks around for a second before sitting back on his heels, his eyebrows furrowing. “Fuck it why not,” he mutters, assumedly to himself as his grip releases and he moves to rest on the bed between your legs, tossing your legs over his shoulders.

Your eyes flash with an instinctive fear, and you grab a fistful of his hair to keep him from going back for sloppy seconds. Instead of burying his face between your thighs again his tongue lathes against your torso. You watch him in awe as he laps his own mess off your burning skin, and it's almost enough to make you beg him for a second round just so you can see it again.

When he’s done he crawls up beside you and pulls you into his arms, squeezing you to him and peppering sloppy kisses along your shoulder.

“That was hot.”

“Never done that before. Don’t know why I did. Don’t know how chicks do that all the time. It was uh, not great.”

“It wasn’t bad, probably just ‘cause it was your own. I could tell you eat well.”

He laughs and brings a hand up to brush your sweaty hair out of your face.

“That’s insane,” he replies, grabbing at you as you try to slide out of his arms.

“Let me up, I gotta pee.”

“Oh I’m sure you do.”

You whack him in the chest with a half-hearted backhand and he finally lets go.

“You coming back?”

“Yeah, where’s the bathroom.”

“Straight across from here.” he gestures to the door at the end of the short hallway in his room.

When you come back out he’s already asleep, so you just climb into the bed beside him, smiling to yourself when he throws his arm over you.

You wake up the next morning still in his arms facing him and you stretch, trying to untangle yourself from him. He groans and pulls you closer, his eyes fluttering open.

“Morning sweetheart,” he murmurs. His morning voice is deep and gravely instead of its usual smooth tone. You smile and kiss the end of his nose. “How’d you sleep?”

“Great. What about you?”

“Like a baby. What time is it?”

“I’d know if you had a clock in here.”

“Hey, my bed’s like Vegas baby. Don’t need a clock.”

“Uh, huh. Let me check my phone.”

He lets go of you and you roll over, grabbing your phone out of the floor.

“It’s seven, and I have like, a million texts.” You open your phone and scroll through your notifications. Most of them were from Lainey, becoming increasingly more concerned before the most recent that just read ‘CALL ME’. You just send her a simple ‘I’m still alive’ text before turning your phone back off and dropping it into the pile of clothes on the floor, returning to Johnny’s embrace.

“I have three hours before I gotta be somewhere. You down for round two and a shower,” He questions, cocking his eyebrow at you.

“Don’t see why not.”

“Glad we’re still on the same page.”

He rolls on top of you and lines himself up with your still-sloppy cunt, easing himself in, same as the night before. Instead of drilling you he sets a slow pace, kissing you passionately as you pull him impossibly closer. It’s slow and restrained, and if you didn’t know any better you'd say he was making love to you. He brings his hand down to toy with your clit, easing you into cumming on his dick this time instead of demanding it. After you finish he pulls out and finishes himself off into the shirt he was wearing yesterday, wordlessly getting up and tossing it into the closet. He comes back to the side of the bed and reaches his hand out.

“Let's go get cleaned up.”

You sit on the cold porcelain of the toilet lid, watching him intently as he starts the shower, taking your hand and leading you in with him.

“Hey, I only have like, dude smells. Hope that’s okay.”

“At least it's not Axe,” you laugh, wetting your hair and turning around to let him shampoo it, which he gladly does. The two of you spend about an hour in the shower enjoying the hot water, washing each other, and kissing. Finally you manage to separate long enough to get out and dry off. Johnny goes and gets dressed in the closet and you just put on your clothes from the night before. He comes back out and you admire how well-tailored his shirt is.

“Come on, I’ll make us breakfast before I gotta go. I’ll call you a ride home, okay?”

“Sounds good.”

He makes omelets for the two of you and you take seats next to each other at the dining room table to eat. After you’re done he takes the dishes into the kitchen and calls your ride for you.

“Where’s your phone?”

“ In my pocket, why?”

“Wanna give you my number so you can call me up whenever.”

You open your phone up to the new contact screen and he enters his number, saving it under ‘Johnny 😎’ and handing it back to you.

His phone dings and he checks it, looking up at you. “Your ride’s here. Text me when you get home safe, okay,” he insists, leading you to the door and giving you one more quick kiss before sending you to the car waiting in the driveway, waving as you duck in.

When you get home you let yourself in and lock the door behind you, trying your damnedest to not look like you were doing the walk of shame. Lainey’s standing at the top of the stairs in her fluffy pink robe staring down at you.

“Holy. Fucking. Shit. You actually did it, didn’t you? You gotta tell me everything.”

You shush her violently and run up the stairs, grabbing her wrist and dragging her into your shared room and slamming the door.

“Dude. Holy shit. He fucked me like he hated my guts.”

“And let you spend the night, and apparently let you use his shower too.”

“We showered together.”

“No shit?”

“No shit. Dude he made me cum like a million times, and then this morning. It felt like I’ve lived with him for years or something. It was just so… natural.”

“That’s… unexpected. Honestly I thought you’d call me to come get you in the middle of the night.”

You sigh and fall backwards onto the bed, pulling your phone out and shooting Johnny a quick text. He responds with a simple ‘👍’.

“He gave me his number. And offered to be my boyfriend”

“Un-fucking-believable,” Lainey breathes grabbing your shoulders and pulls you back into a sitting position, shaking you around. “Do not fuck this up.”

@cael-salad

[soaps-mohawk]

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 15: Bonnie

Summary: Your heat is over and your pack has moved on with their lives, settling back into the familiar routine. Except, some things have begun to change, and you're not entirely sure if its for the better.

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

Word Count: 7456 words

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, smut, oral, handjobs, overstimulation, P in V sex, unprotected sex, creampie, hair pulling, switch Johnny, Johnny's lingerie kink, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, language, mention of nightmares, brief talk about killing and violence, insomnia, fluff, and of course a bit of angst

A/N: This chapter was an absolute bitch to write. I'm not kidding this was a nightmare. I'm happy with the changes I've made though, and how things are progressing. We've made a little bit of a time jump here, but not much. I think I'm getting sick so, posting the chapter before I inevitably pass out again. Oh, and Happy Easter everyone that celebrates.

Want early access to chapters, as well as other bonus content? Consider supporting me on Patreon.

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Your eyes fly open as the alarm blares. They burn as you squint against the bright phone light. An arm reaches over you, the warm skin sliding against your back as he fumbles to turn off the offending noise. 

You let out a quiet groan as you catch the numbers dictating the time on the screen before the phone is placed back on the nightstand. “‘S too early.” You grumble, rubbing at your crusty eyes. 

“Go back to sleep.” John murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder before he shifts, climbing over you to get out of the bed. He tucks the blankets back around you before slipping into the bathroom. 

You won't go back to sleep. The last time you'd glanced at the time on your phone had been two hours ago, at 2 A.M. You’ve been awake most of the night, as you have been the last couple nights. You haven't been sleeping well. It was like your heat opened a floodgate and now every time you close your eyes, you're transported back into the past, back when you were a child. Back when things weren't fine. 

You've started trying to avoid sleep, waking constantly during the night from nightmares or from your brain’s own fear of them starting back up. It’s only been a week since your heat ended, and yet you feel no more rested than you did coming out of it. Nothing you’ve tried has worked, not even staying awake until you inevitably pass out prevents your subconscious mind from pulling up the horrible memories of your past. 

Even sleeping next to your alpha hasn’t provided any comfort for your mind. His presence isn’t enough to quell the fear in your mind that the nightmares might come back, that the memories might surface. 

Even he can’t protect you from this. 

You close your eyes as the bathroom door opens again, pretending to sleep as John dresses for his morning workout. He’s quiet, near silent as he moves about the room. It’s almost terrifying how quiet they can be. Though, you suppose, if your survival depends on it, it’s a skill you’d spend plenty of time honing. 

John grabs his phone from the nightstand, running a gentle hand over your head before he leaves the room, closing the door quietly behind him. You lay there for a few minutes, trying not to let the guilt eat you alive. You should tell them you’re struggling to sleep, that your mind is plaguing you with memories from your past, but you’re afraid of what they might think of you. You’re not the perfect omega, you’re not as whole as you might seem. 

You’re held together with duct tape on the inside. They already have enough to worry about now, they don’t need the weight of your misery thrown on top of the loads they all carry. 

You let out a long breath, turning over in John’s bed. You press your face into the pillow, inhaling the imprint of his scent on the fabric. It’s still warm where he was laying, and you shuffle over into that spot, letting your body go lax as you imagine him still there with you, arms still wrapped around your body. You want to bury yourself in his arms, press against his chest until you sink into him and become one. 

Only then, perhaps you can feel safe enough to sleep. 

You press your face further into the pillow, every inhale filled with John’s scent. It lulls you into a daze, the hypnagogic stage between sleep and wakefulness. 

You jolt as a hand touches your arm, calluses smoothing over the bare skin. You blink your eyes open, letting out a quiet groan. It’s light outside now, the room bathed in white light instead of the yellow tinge of the nightlight John had bought for his room for you.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.” John says, gently squeezing your arm. He’s already dressed for the day, hair still damp from the shower. You hadn’t even noticed he’d returned. 

You roll over, rubbing your eyes. “‘S fine. Didn’t even know I was asleep. Breakfast time?” 

John hums, leaning over you. “Almost. You’ve got time to get ready.” 

You blink up at him blearily, your mind still trying to wake up completely after your short nap. You stare up into his eyes, getting lost in their blue depths. You feel like you could swim in them, his deep earthy scent drawing forward memories of camping and swimming in the lake. Memories you could pretend were happy, memories not tainted by fear and grief. 

“Christ,” He breathes, pressing his lips to yours. “So fucking beautiful.” 

Your cheeks warm at his words, your lips moving against his as you kiss. You trail a hand up his arm, sliding it to his back. His shirt is soft, thin enough that you can feel the muscles in his back as you smooth your hand across his shoulder blades. 

“Wish I could stay here all day.” He murmurs, his face pressing into your throat. You tilt your head for him, a quiet groan rumbling through his chest at your sign of submission. He sighs, pressing his nose against your scent gland for a moment before he straightens back up. “Got a job to do.” 

You let out a groan as you stretch, arching your back. “Fuck your job.” 

“I’d much rather be fucking you.” He says, leaning down to nip at your bottom lip before he stands up, grabbing the shirt you’d worn to slip into his room last night off the floor. It’s one of his, one you’d stolen from his laundry hamper while he was in the shower. “Don’t let anyone hear you say that.” 

You grin, pushing the sheets down before sitting up on the edge of the bed. You rub your eyes tiredly, stretching again before pulling on his shirt, slipping your slippers on. You pad back to your room, changing into more appropriate clothes for breakfast. You’ll be left to your own devices again afterward as the guys return to their normal training schedule. You won’t be napping this time, though, you fear. Instead you’ll be looking for ways to keep yourself awake. 

You and John walk hand in hand to the mess. It’s been a while since you’ve been inside of it, and you find you’ve grown to miss it a bit. You don’t miss the stares, the looks that pass over you and your entwined hands as John leads you to the line to get food. It’s like they know, like they all somehow witnessed what had transpired over the last couple weeks, like they had all been spectators to it. 

John makes your tray for you again, carrying it to the table where the others are already seated. You take your normal spot next to Kyle, both him and John sitting closer to you than before. Perhaps they were picking up on your nervous energy, but even Johnny and Ghost seemed to be sitting closer. You cast a glance between them before digging into your tray. Something had transpired, but you’re not quite sure what. 

You might never get to know. 

It’s quiet as you eat, the coffee bitter and watery, but you don’t care. You’ll suffer anything that might give you a boost of energy to make it to lunch without falling asleep. 

Johnny walks you back to the barracks after breakfast is over, his arm around your waist as you take your time crossing the courtyard. He’s oddly quiet compared to how energetic he usually is this early in the morning. Something must have happened to make him silent. 

“Johnny?” You ask after a group of soldiers jog past behind you. 

He hums, looking down at you. His eyes are still bright, but his brows are slightly furrowed. 

“Is everything alright?” You ask carefully, not wanting to risk pushing any buttons. 

“Aye.” He answers after letting out a sigh. “Jus’ an incident in the gym this mornin’. Nothing ye need tae worry about.” 

You raise your brows at him, silently conveying your desire for more information, if he can give you any. 

“Just some alphas talkin’ shite, like they do. Callin’ ye the 141’s whore. Askin’ if we all take turns or if ye let us all go at once.” He says, his tone practically seething as he leads you into the barracks. “Simon reminded them of their place.” 

You can only imagine how that went. 

Despite their obvious tension at the jabs made at you by the other alphas, you don't feel as angry as you probably should. Being called a whore was a bit demeaning, but part of what was said wasn't entirely wrong. Perhaps it's just some leftover hormones surging from your heat, or maybe being claimed has shifted your feelings towards your packmates, but the idea of being shared by them has warmth spreading through you. The mental images piecing together in your mind of taking them all at once would probably make the alphas that made that jab at you blush furiously. 

“Johnny?” You ask, turning to him when you reach your door. 

“Aye?” He stares down at you, his blue eyes soft as they gaze down into your own. 

“I, uh, I wouldn’t mind if at least part of what they said was true...” You sink your teeth into your lip. “You...uh...you’ve been waiting for a while...for your turn.” 

He gulps, shifting slightly on his feet. You can’t tell if he’s nervous or excited or something in between. 

“Well, I’ve been officially cleared to partake in more...strenuous activities..” 

“Christ.” He breathes, crowding you against the door. For a moment you’re worried he might just do it right here, right now, but instead he leans in, close enough you can smell the coffee he had with his breakfast. “I’d love that, kitten.” He bites his own lip as he stares down at yours. “Let me know, and I’ll be ready for you.” He leans down, closing the short distance between you as he kisses you. 

You lean into him, kissing him back. It feels like the first time you kissed him, except you can feel the hunger, the restraint behind this kiss. You can feel how much he’s been holding back, how long he’s waited to finally have this moment. To think of anyone desiring you in such a way makes your head spin. He wants you for you, not what you can do for him, not what you can give to him. Not even just for what’s between your legs, even if that’s what you’re going to do. 

He wants to be with you because you’re you. He doesn’t have to, he could choose not to, but he does. 

He pulls away, staring down at you. His eyes are darker now, speaking promises of what’s to come. “When you’re ready, I’ll be waiting.” 

“You're tired.” 

You blink, your gaze snapping to his face. You had been drifting thoughtlessly, quite enamored with a single spot on the floor. You're not sure how long he let you stand there, empty-headed and practically dozing upright. 

You rub your eyes, trying to force your brain back to awareness. “It's early.” You give the excuse, toeing off your shoes. “Been a while since we've done this.”

“You're going to have to work extra hard to gain it all back.” Ghost says, pulling off his sweatshirt. 

Your eyes are immediately drawn to his arms, the strength in them, the tattoos on his skin. You bite back the desire to move closer, to get just a glimpse at one close up. You want to sit and trace them, hear the story of every single one. You want to push his sleeve up, watch the way his muscles bulge and flex, see how far his tattoo goes up his arm. 

You snap yourself out of your thoughts, moving onto the mat before you do something embarrassing like starting to drool. You watch him as he stands at the edge of the mat, brown eyes taking you in as you stand there. Something tickles in the back of your mind, a hint of fear, the sense of sudden danger prevalent. What would you do if he suddenly ran at you? Try to dodge and make it to the door? Where would you go? The med center again? 

“Easy.” He grumbles, sensing your obvious tension.

Your gaze snaps back to him, his posture relaxed as he stays still. “I'm putting a lot of trust in you.”

“I know.” He says, standing almost as still as a statue. You wonder how he can possibly be so still, but you suppose it's something he learned to do. “I should never have broken that trust in the first place.”

Your eyes widen, brows lifting as you stare at him. You didn't expect such a straightforward apology from him. You haven't really gotten one, until now. You hesitate as you stand there in silence, Ghost obviously waiting for your response. 

“I don't know if I can forgive you.” You finally say. 

“You shouldn't.” He shrugs, his gaze shifting to the wall behind you. “Even if you weren't really in danger, it was still a dick move.”

Your eyebrows raise even higher. “An apology and admitting you were a dick? Should I be worried?”

He huffs out a breath, shaking his head. “Consider it an offering of amicability, for Johnny. I know you two are getting close, so inevitably we're going to find ourselves around each other more often than we have previously.”

“Well, I suppose I could accept that.” You say, shifting on your feet. “I don't think you could convince Johnny otherwise.”

“Hardly. He wouldn't listen anyway.” He finally moves, shifting on his feet. “You gonna put your hackles down so I can approach?”

You take a deep breath, relaxing the tension in your body. You don't really have a reason to fear him, despite what he did. He hasn't given you a reason to fear him since then, and he's even gone so far as to apologize in his own way. John wouldn't have allowed this to start again if he didn't trust Ghost not to do something that might put you in danger. 

John trusts him, so you should be able to as well. 

Ghost slowly approaches, your eyes watching him carefully until he's directly in front of you. You stare up at him, holding his gaze. You wish you could see the rest of his face on the off chance it might give you a hint at what he's thinking and feeling. You wonder if that's partially why he wears the mask. 

Ghost holds out his hand and you place your own in his. It's so much bigger than yours, his long fingers engulfing your wrist as he wraps your hand. You could probably do it yourself by this point, but you like making him do it. You like the way his hands hold yours, the roughness of his skin against your own. 

He starts out reviewing things you already know. Punches, kicks, dodging. It doesn't take long for you to get back into the groove of things, moving like it hasn't been nearly a month since your last training session. You notice the fatigue faster than you had during your last session, but you expected that after almost a month, paired with your heat two weeks ago. 

“Now, punching and kicking will only get you so far in a fight.” He says, giving you a moment to breathe. “Almost all fights are going to end up on the ground. Even if your goal is disarming enough to escape, the chances of you and your opponent ending up on the ground is highly likely.” 

He swipes your feet out from under you before you can even blink, nearly knocking the wind from you as you land on the mat on your back. He’s on you quickly, dropping to his hands and knees over you. Your breath catches in your throat as you stare at him above you, his hulking form seeming even larger from this angle. Your mind begins to run wild, imagining all the things that could happen in this position. 

“Focus.” He grumbles, arms flexing as he presses his hands into the mat where they rest on either side of your head. “You don’t want to be in this position in a fight. You’re too vulnerable.” 

A shiver runs down your spine at his words. You are vulnerable like this. Even with him, someone who doesn’t want to hurt you, it would be so easy. Your head begins to turn, your gaze leaving his as instinct begins to take over. 

“No.” He snaps, gripping your chin to turn your head back so he’s looking in your eyes. “You do that in a fight, you’re not going to see the other side.” 

You gulp, trying to ignore the warmth of his fingers on your face, the firmness of his grip as he keeps you from showing submission to him. That’s not why you’re here. He’s right. If you do that in a fight, it’ll be over before you even have a chance to run. 

“Your legs are far stronger than your arms. Use them to your advantage.” He says, showing you how to get him into the right position to flip him. 

You know he’s helping you as you flip him onto his back. If he really was fighting you, you’re not sure you could have done it, even if you managed to land enough of a hit to disarm him. You wind up on top of him, sitting on his stomach. The position doesn’t help your racing thoughts, and you pray you can keep enough control over yourself so you don’t make it obvious. 

“Use your legs to pin my hands.” He directs you. You shift your knees slightly, trapping his hands against the mat. “Good.” He says, laying still under you. “You can’t hold a bigger opponent down here for long, but that’s not the point. This gives you a moment of opportunity to go for the face or the neck. Stun them and that gives you a headstart. If you have a weapon available, then you have one less person to worry about chasing you.” 

You gulp at his words. It hadn’t even crossed your mind during your training. He had said it so simply, so easily. You suppose it is to him, after years of doing it, after countless moments where it’s his life or theirs. Is that what he tells himself? Is that how he rationalizes it? Is there so much blood on his hands now that killing is as easy as breathing? 

You wonder how they all rationalize it. They all have blood on their hands, they all have killed, and will kill again. Every time they leave and come back, it’s with more blood, more nameless faces on the list of lives they've taken, all in the name of the greater good. 

Is violence and death really the path to the greater good? 

“What?” He asks, sensing your inner turmoil. 

You sit back on his stomach, your body rising and falling with his even breaths. “I don’t know if I could do it.” 

He tugs his hands from beneath your knees easily, resting them on the mat next to your legs. You can feel his fingers twitch as the blood rushes back into them. “You might not have much of a choice.” He says, holding your gaze. There’s a softness in his gaze you have never seen before. “Sometimes it’s the only choice. If they’re attacking you, they’re better off dead. Even if their goal is to take you alive, the things they’ll do to you.” He shakes his head. 

He’s speaking from experience. You know he’s seen things, witnessed the brutality omegas are subjected to at the hands of the worst kinds of alphas and betas. He’s watched omegas die in front of him while he’s sat helpless.

His hand lifts, cupping the back of your head to pull you down closer to his face. You catch yourself with your hands on either side of his head, fighting the urge to tense your shoulders. His hand doesn’t move from the back of your head, his fingers not even twitching as he holds you steady. 

“If they’re willing to do it to you, how many others have been on the receiving end? If you’re not willing to be the last, how many others will come after you?” He says, his gaze intense as he stares at you. “I hope you never have to, but you always have to prepare for the worst.” 

He holds you there for a breath, staring up into your eyes before he releases you, flipping you off of him and onto your back on the mat. He pushes himself up to stand, staring down at you as you lay there, catching your breath and thinking over the last few moments that transpired. 

“Come on. It’s almost time for breakfast.” 

It’s quiet in the rec room. The TV is off for once, only the hum of electricity and the occasional turning of a page the only sound breaking the silence. You and Ghost are the only two in the rec room, both of you relaxing silently as you read. He’s in the chair as usual, and you’re stretched out on the couch. 

You’re only halfway paying attention to your book, still thinking over your conversation with Johnny earlier, and what transpired in the gym during your training session yesterday. You know how much Johnny wants to be with you, and you're more than willing to go that far with him. You like Johnny, more than just as a packmate. It's hard not to fall for him with his confidence and his playful demeanor. You know he's been desperate to take things to the next level too. 

All he's waiting on is you saying the word. 

He will never force you into it. He'll impatiently wait for you to go to him, to tell him that you want it. All jokes and teasing aside, you know he'd never make you feel like you were being forced into something. 

The thought makes you want to cry. 

“Pull his hair.” Ghost’s voice cuts through the silence, nearly making you jump. 

You lower your book so you can see him, eyebrows raising in surprise at his words. “What?” 

“When you finally fuck Johnny, grab him by the mohawk. He likes it.” Ghost says, not even looking up from his own book. 

You stare at him wide-eyed, wondering for a moment if he can read minds, or if you’re just not quite as subtle as you think you’re being. 

“I'll, uh, keep that in mind.” You say, lifting your book again to hide your blushing face. 

The room descends into silence once more, the two of you continuing to read as if nothing had happened, as if that conversation hadn’t transpired. You wish it felt that way in your mind, though. The mental images Ghost’s words have drawn up drowning out the words on the pages that you’re trying to read. You’re trying not to get worked up further, but you can’t help it. After your training session and the thoughts that had come to mind with Ghost, and now these new images of Johnny, you’re sure your scent has begun to sweeten with arousal. 

You need to rectify this, and fast. 

You knock on the door, shifting nervously on your feet. Your hands have disappeared in your sleeves, the weight of your phone in your pocket the only thing keeping you from floating to the ceiling and dissipating into the air from the anxiety. 

Your stomach nearly drops from your body as the door swings open, Gaz standing there in his full glory. 

“Everything alright?” He asks, staring down at you with those big brown eyes. “You look nervous.”

You swallow the nerves, nodding in response. “Yeah, I just...wanted to talk to you for a minute.” 

He steps away from the door, brows still pinched in worry and confusion as he motions for you to enter. You brush past him as you step into his room, taking a look around. You haven't been in his room before. It's slightly smaller than yours and John's, and it doesn't have a private bathroom. There's artwork up on the walls, and a couple of plants on his desk, along with a few personal belongings. It's neat and tidy, not that you expected anything less. 

“What did you want to talk about?” He asks, turning to face you after closing the door. 

You take a deep breath, calming the nervous twist in your stomach. You shouldn’t be nervous. It’s a natural thing to bring up to packmates. You blame it on the fatigue from your lack of sleep putting you on edge.

“I wanted to ask you something.” You start, staring into his big brown eyes. They’re so beautiful, so expressive as they stare down at you. “Johnny and I...we’re going to...sleep together soon and...I just wanted to make sure that was okay? In case maybe you wanted to go first?” 

Kyle’s lips slowly lift up into a smile as you stare at him nervously, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “He’s been an absolute tosser since before your heat, and he’d only become utterly unbearable if he didn’t get to go first.” He steps up closer to you, grinning down at you. “For the sake of everyone’s sanity, I don’t mind being patient. Besides,” He leans down, his breath fanning your ear. “I at least know what you look like naked, so I can occupy myself while I wait.” 

Your face burns with warmth at his words, a shiver running down your spine. He’s not wrong. He’s seen you at your most vulnerable, lost to your heat, naked and stuffed with John’s knot. Your brain flashes back to the start of your heat, the feel of his fingers slipping beneath the waistband of your pajama pants. You swallow thickly, meeting his gaze as he pulls back. 

“Enjoy your time with Johnny, love.” He slips his hand into yours, lifting it to his lips. He presses a soft kiss to your knuckles, lips brushing your skin as he speaks. “I’ll be here waiting for you when you’re ready.” 

You feel a bit out of breath as you leave Kyle’s room, and you’re sure your scent has sweetened with arousal and excitement. You might have been tempted to just jump Kyle’s bones right now, had it not been for your desire for Johnny, and your commitment to letting him be first again. You know Kyle’s right. You’d never hear the end of it if Johnny didn’t get the chance to be next in line. 

Now you just have to find him and tell him the good news. 

“Ye look nervous. Are ye nervous?” 

“I mean, this is a big step...” You say, wrapping your arms around Johnny’s neck as he shifts you into his lap. You try not to think about how strong he is, how easily he moves you. 

“Ye don’t have tae do this, if ye don’ want to.” He says, looking down into your eyes. 

“It’s not that...” You say, shifting in his lap. “It’s more...there’s no going back after this.” 

He wraps his arms tighter around you. “If I didnae want it, I wouldnae offer. Yer a fucking stunnin’ omega, kitten. Would be crazy not tae want ye.” 

Your cheeks warm at his words, your gaze dropping from the intensity of his own. His stubble tickles your fingers as you trace the line of his jaw, working your way towards his lips. His tongue darts out, wetting his bottom lip as your fingers trace the jagged scar on his chin. 

“Just...go easy on me? At least this first time?” You say, tracing his lips with your fingers. 

“‘Course, kitten.” He says, pressing a kiss to your fingertips. “Wouldnae want to scare ye away.” 

Your eyes widen slightly at the implications of his words, your stomach fluttering with excitement and a hint of fear at what he could possibly be alluding to. His hand lifts, gently grasping your chin, tilting your face slightly. He closes the distance between you, pressing his lips to yours. 

“Don’ worry.” He murmurs against your lips. “Take good care of ye.” 

You hum against his lips, tasting the chocolate he’d been snacking on when you sought him out as his tongue slips into your mouth. His hand leaves your chin, sliding down your throat to rest right at the base of your throat, fingers splayed across your clavicle. His thumb rests right on the edge of your mating mark, the pressure making you shiver. 

Johnny pulls you tighter against his chest, your arms wrapping around his neck. He moans against your lips as you shift against him, the bulge in his pants pressing against your ass. It’s not the first time you’ve felt it, but this time it’s different. This time you’re going to do something about it. 

“Fucking christ, take ye right here on this couch, if I’m not careful.” Johnny groans, nipping at your bottom lip. 

“Then best take me to bed, Sergeant.” You say, pulling back slightly to give him what you hope is a sultry look. 

The groan that’s pulled from his lips is downright salacious, something flashing in his eyes as you call him by his rank. He curses, tightening his hold around you before he stands, maneuvering you so you’re tossed over his shoulder. You let out a squeak of surprise that’s quickly replaced by giggles as he packs you down the hall to his room. 

He sets you on your feet once you're inside, closing the door. You look around his room, surprised to see it full of art supplies with drawings and paintings all over the walls. You stare open mouthed, taking it all in. It's messier than John and Kyle's rooms, though there's still a sense of order to it. A chaotic order, but you suppose that explains Johnny perfectly. 

“You draw?” You say, studying the art on the walls.

“Aye,” Johnny says, coming up behind you. “In my free time.”

“I didn't know that.” A small smile tugs at your lips. “They're beautiful.”  

“Thank ye, kitten.” He wraps his arms around you from behind, reminding you of why you came in here in the first place. “Not quite as beautiful as you.”

Your face warms at his compliment and you tilt your head back, staring up at him. “You're such a charmer.” 

“Try my best.” He grins, leaning down and kissing your forehead. “Promise I'll show ye my drawings later.”

You turn in his arms, wrapping your own around his neck. “I know. You're desperate.”

“Been waitin’ weeks for this, kitten.” He groans, grinding against you. 

He leans down, pressing his lips to yours. You tighten your grip around his neck, jumping into his arms. He manages to catch you, stumbling half a step back as his hands grip your thighs. You wrap your legs around his waist, lifting yourself so you’re face to face with him. 

“Christ.” He groans against your lips, walking forward until he reaches his bed.

He drops you on your back, your body bouncing on the mattress as he settles on his knees over you. His eyes have darkened as he stares down at you, your stomach twisting in excitement. Warmth has started to pool between your legs, your scent sweetening with arousal. 

Johnny’s hands are rough as they slip under your shirt, tugging it up over your head. He groans, eyes fluttering as he realizes you’re without a bra underneath. He curses quietly, something you can’t quite understand as his hands immediately close around your breasts. Your lips part as he squeezes the flesh in his hands, leaning down to take a nipple in his mouth. You gasp at the sensation as his lips close around the sensitive bud, suckling at it like he’s a man starved. 

Well, you suppose he is. 

He has been waiting for quite a while for this opportunity. Something about it makes your brain tingle, arousal pooling in your stomach at the thought of someone desiring you that much. 

It’s not just him, though. Three of the four members of your pack have expressed their desire for you in such a way. The thought makes your head spin. You’re just a simple omega, and yet, here they are going half crazy over you. 

Johnny releases your nipple with a pop, shifting so he can give the same attention to the other one. Arousal continues to pool between your legs, your arms wrapping around his shoulders. You drag your fingernails across the back of his neck, a shiver wracking through his body, his hips grinding down against your thigh. 

“Fuck,” He gasps, releasing your nipple to stare up at you.

You repeat the motion, dragging your fingers slower. His eyes roll back, hips grinding harder against your thigh. He’s so sensitive, you think, pushing your thigh up against him. He lets out what can only be described as almost a whine, rutting his hips against your leg. 

“Fuck,” He curses again, pushing himself back up onto his knees. “Tonight is about you, kitten.” He takes a deep breath before slipping his fingers under the waistband of your pants, tugging them down quickly and tossing them on the floor next to your shirt. 

He sinks his teeth into his lip as he stares down at your panties, one of the pairs he got you on your shopping trip before your date with John. You had changed into them specifically for Johnny, remembering how excited he’d looked when he bought you five pairs of the lacy garments. He groans quietly as he runs his fingers over your lace covered skin, slowly lowering his fingers between your thighs. He glances up at you, meeting his gaze and you give him a nod before his fingers dip lower, trailing the wet spot on the lacy fabric. 

You part your legs more for him as he rubs you through your panties, quiet moans leaving your lips at the feeling of the friction from the fabric. His eyes are still on you, glued to your face as the pleasure begins to build just from his touch. You buck your hips against his hand, searching out more. More pleasure, more of his touch, more of him. 

“Look at ye, needy little thing.” He groans, his thumb dragging up your slit until he finds your clit, slowly circling it through the fabric. “Barely touched ye an’ yer cunt’s already soakin’ yer skids. Fucking sweet little thing, so needy for me, aren’t ye?” 

You push yourself up onto your elbows, staring down at him. “Are you going to sit there and run your mouth all night, or are you going to fuck me?” 

He grins wickedly at you. “I’m just gettin’ started, kitten.” 

He leans down, pressing a kiss to the inside of your knee before trailing kisses up your inner thigh. His thumb continues to stroke you through your panties, applying more and more pressure as he gets closer and closer to your center. He whispers out a curse as he shoves your panties to the side, revealing your glistening folds to him. He leans forward, warm breath fanning your slit before he closes his mouth around you. 

You gasp at the sensation, dropping back onto your back on the bed as he drags his tongue through your folds, flicking it across your clit before he closes his lips around the sensitive bud, suckling at it like he did your nipples earlier. Pleasure shoots through you as he eats you like a man starved, slurping away at your pussy obscenely. 

“Fuck, Johnny!” You gasp, legs trying to close around his head, but he holds your inner thighs, keeping them spread. 

You’re not going to last very long, not with him alternating between sucking at your clit and swirling his tongue around it like that. He’s done this before, and you can’t help the momentary spike of jealousy at the thought of him between any other omega’s thighs now that he has you. 

“Gonna cum!” You whine, hips bucking against his face. 

“Yeah? Gonna make a mess all over my face?” He groans. 

You curse, your back arching as he continues to work you up, hands fisting his sheets. 

“That’s it.” He groans against your clit, dragging his teeth over the sensitive bud. “Be a good omega for me.” 

You cum with a cry, soaking his chin as he continues to tease you. He laps at your juices, not slowing any as he works you through your orgasm, even as you begin to shake with overstimulation. 

“I-I can’t.” You gasp, the burning feeling starting to pulse through you as he continues to suck at your clit. It’s quickly becoming too much, the feeling overwhelming you. 

Ghost’s words flash through your mind at that moment, his suggestion yesterday while you both spent time in the rec room reading. You reach down, sinking your fingers into Johnny’s mohawk, gripping the short strands. He lets out a groan as you tug, pulling his face from your pussy finally. His chin is glistening with your release, his tongue darting out to lick your juices from his lips. 

He follows as you tug upwards, drawing him away from your pussy. He crawls up your body until you’re almost face to face, your fingers still tangled in his hair. 

“I said that’s enough.” You say, slightly breathless from your orgasm, but you put as much authority in your tone as you can manage. 

“Yes ma’am.” He practically whines, the muscles in his arms flexing as he sinks his own fingers into the sheets around you. 

The sudden shift in control has something buzzing in your brain, the back of your neck tingling. You’re an omega. You’re not supposed to be in control, and yet, here Johnny is, practically folding in front of you. A thrill shoots through your veins at the thought of what you could make him do, what lengths he’d go to for you simply because you have him in this position. 

“Take your clothes off.” You say, releasing his mohawk. 

He sits back without complaint, tugging his shirt over his head. You take him in, the hard lines of his muscles, the dark hair on his chest, the line disappearing under the waistband of his pants. You lick your lips as he undoes the button on his pants, undoing the zipper before tugging them down with his boxers. 

His cock is hard and practically standing at attention as he kicks his pants off. He’s slightly smaller than John, but not by much. Your pussy clenches at the thought of him inside you, but you’re not ready for that quite yet. You guide Johnny back up to your face, pressing your lips against his. You can taste yourself on him, making him groan as you lick into his mouth. 

You guide him onto his back, trading places with him. He settles beneath you, his hands lifting to your hips, but you push them back as you pull away. You smirk down at him for a moment before you move, changing your position so you’re facing away from him. You trap his hands against the bed with your legs like Ghost showed you, sitting yourself on his taut stomach. He has a clear view of your ass still sporting your lacy panties, your wet folds pressed against his skin. 

“Simon show ye that one?” He asks, flexing his hands under you. He could easily overpower you and free himself, but he doesn’t.

“Uh huh.” You say, wrapping your hand around his cock. 

“Hells bells, what are you two gettin’ into during trainin’?” He groans, obviously starting to picture the lewd things you and Ghost might be doing. You wonder how he’d react to seeing you on top of Ghost like you were yesterday. 

“He’s just teaching me how to defend myself.” You say, slowly pumping his cock. “I’m finding there’s not much of a difference between fucking and fighting.” 

Johnny lets out another groan, but you’re not sure if it’s because of your words, or your hand on his cock. You continue to pump his length, feeling the softness of him in your hand, squeezing gently to feel the vein running along the bottom side. Johnny lets out a choked groan, hands twitching again under your legs. 

“Fuck, I cannae last much longer.” He gasps desperately, his length twitching in your hand. 

Pearly white beads of precum have begun to slip from his tip, and you can’t help but lean down and drag your tongue across his head, gathering some in your mouth. He lets out a whine that rivals ones of your own, his hips bucking as he gets closer and closer to his own orgasm. 

“Please, kitten, let me cum inside ye.” He begs, pulling his hands free from underneath you so he can grip your hips. 

You pull away from his cock, sitting up on his stomach. He’s panting, his fingers digging into the skin of your hips. You shift yourself again, turning back around to face him. His eyes are hooded as he stares at you, pupils blown with lust. His lips are parted as he pants, sweat beading on his forehead from the strain of holding himself back. You push yourself back until you’re hovering over his cock, pulling your panties to the side with one hand, grabbing his length with the other. 

You groan as you sink down onto him, bracing yourself with a hand on his stomach as he stretches you open. His hands settle on your waist, squeezing your hips as you work yourself down his length. 

“Fuck,” You breathe, pressing your hands against his abs as you sink down completely onto his cock, your hips flush with his. 

“So fucking tight and warm,” He groans, his grip near bruising around your hips. “Fucking feel fantastic, kitten.” 

You slowly begin rocking your hips, using your hands on his stomach for leverage. Your toes are curling already from this angle, the tip of his cock brushing that spot deep inside you with every rock of your hips. Small whines and whimpers leave your lips as you fuck yourself on his cock, squeezing your legs around his hips. They’re shaking already, and you know you won’t last long in this position. 

Johnny seems to notice that as well, his grip on your hips tightening as he starts to guide your movements. You’re starting to sweat from the effort, your thighs burning, but it feels too good to stop. You’re getting close again, the stretch of him inside you paired with the high of having such control over him just a few moments ago driving you closer and closer to the edge. 

Johnny pushes himself up as your movements begin to slow, wrapping his arms around you to shift you in his lap, laying you down on the bed facing the footboard as he slots himself over you. He takes over, thrusting into you, setting a frantic pace. Your head falls back as he pounds into you, your back arching as he folds his body over yours, pressing his face into your neck. 

“Gonna cum for me? Need tae feel ye squeezing ‘round my cock.” He grunts, nipping at the skin of your throat. 

You let out a whimper, nails digging into his shoulders. “Just like that.” You pant, squeezing your legs around his hips. “Don’t stop!” 

“Yes, ma’am.” He groans, continuing to rut into you like your pussy is the only thing that can save his life. 

You practically see stars as you cum, squeezing around his cock as pleasure jolts through your body like electricity. Your hips buck against his, grinding together like some sort of forbidden dance as he’s forced into his own orgasm by your walls squeezing around him. His hips stutter before he stills, warmth spurting into you as he cums. You hold him there, his body trembling with yours as he groans into your throat. 

“Fucking hell.” He moans, starting to shallowly thrust into you. He’s still hard, his cock dragging through your sensitive walls as he continues to fuck you despite having just orgasmed. “Never gonnae tire of this sweet cunt.” 

He probably won’t, you think as he continues to slowly thrust into you again. 

You’re in for a long night. 

NEXT ->

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Johnny "Soap" Mactavish x SisterFriend!Reader

Fluff | Smut | 2761 words | Back to Masterlist

When Johnny finally comes back home, only to find his sister's best friend living in his house.

Soap got injured on the last mission. A bullet too close, well, not close, through. And not a bullet, a knife to the shoulder which left him in a sling. And now he needed almost absolute rest for a month until he was re-evaluated to see how it was healing.

It was Price's idea to go back home, it's been years since he saw his family and when Price mentioned it, guilt started to pool in his stomach.

So he took the first plane home and flew back. Reaching land in the middle of the night, he picked up a cab and went home. The humidity and coldness of his beloved Scotland made his shoulder hurt more; he couldn't wait to get home. 

Once there, he picked up the key from under the mat that he so often told his mum to put away and entered the house. Making a beeline to his room, silent so as to not wake up anyone. And as soon as he took off his shoes, he threw himself into his bed. And the bed talked back.

“Bitch, I told you to go to your bed, I don't want a fucking sleepover.” A girl's voice erupted from under the cover, a hand pushing him off the bed. Well, he stood up, there is no way you would move him with just a hand while half asleep.

“Excuse me?” Soap asks, more offended than surprised he was pushed off his bed. The man's voice woke you up fast, whipping your head around at it and turning on the bedside lamp to see anything in the dark. 

It only takes you a second to recognise your best friend’s brother, the mohawk recognisable everywhere. “Johnny?” You asked.

He asked your name back just as surprised. “What are you doing here?” He asks

“It's… it's a long story actually, I-I’ll go to your sister's room.” You say standing up, leaving his bed for him. “What happened to your shoulder?”

He peels his eyes away from you, suddenly remembering the one thing outside of his family that he always thought about. 

His sister is just a couple of years younger than him, and they always went to the same school, and later on, high school. His sister and you met in kindergarten, and ever since you were joined by the hip. Monkey 1 and Monkey 2, his mother would joke about how she didn't know she birthed twins. 

When the three of you were younger, you were just another annoying brat like his little sister. But once he reached puberty, he started to look at you differently. You were still an annoying brat, but he started to like the way you annoyed him. 

Johnny loved to be in his room, but whenever he knew you were coming he would insist on being in the living room; even if it was just to catch a glimpse as you walked up to your sister's room. 

The thing he hated the most about you? Your boyfriend. The fucking stupid boyfriend that couldn't see how amazing you were, the fucking stupid boyfriend that you cried about so much, the fucking stupid boyfriend that he would fight with so much. 

The last thing he knew about him before he enlisted, was that he had proposed to you and that you had said yes. 

But know, until just a moment ago, you were sleeping on his bed, with an old sweatshirt of his on. He was smiling to himself, the “long story” suddenly short when he connected the dots. 

He wanted to tell you to stay and sleep with him. But he was exhausted and cold, and his shoulder only hurt more and more. And if you hit it on your sleep, he wouldn't forgive you, no matter how much you were the love of his life. 

You were still looking at him, waiting for his answer. Even pointing at his shoulder so he would remember. “Oh.” He said looking at his shoulder. “It's classified.”

You rolled your eyes at his answer and started to walk out of the room; and just when you were almost out you turned to look at him.

“I'm glad you are back, Johnny.”

And in that moment, he knew he had a chance.

The next morning he woke up incredibly late in comparison with his usual time to wake up. But to the rest of the mortals, it was still early. In fact, only his mom was awake when he walked into the kitchen. 

Giving her a warm hug that the both of them so desperately needed after being away for so long. With a cup of coffee in between, they talked on the kitchen table until his sister woke up as well and after you told her he was back she flew downstairs hugging his brother in a crushing hug. 

You went downstairs too after stretching out and when you saw the image you remained at the doorway, not wanting to intrude on their reunion. 

“Say hi to Johnny, you cunt.” Your best friend lovely said. 

“I already did last night.” You say, before thinking of the double meaning. Johnny catches immediately, a mischievous grin on his face. He wishes you had welcomed him that way. “I thought it was you, crying about wanting to sleep together again.” 

“Whatever, who came to my bed last night at the end?” She answers, smiling proudly. 

You scoff at her. “Well, I'm sorry that I let the wounded soldier that came home after three years to sleep on HIS bed.” You say chuckling, you turn to him. “You are allowed to make arrests, right? According to your sister, seems this is my fate.”

You put your hands together, extending them before you for him to put handcuffs around your wrists. He'll put them soon, he still needs to choose if he wants to tie you to the bed or to him. 

His sister slaps your arm, calling you dramatic, before working on making breakfast with your help. Something about the way you fit in just right with the people he loves the most, still wearing his sweatshirt truly warms him inside. 

“So… how's Adam?” Johnny asks, he needs to know if the coast is clear. But the way both his mom and sister look at him the moment he talks makes it regretted. And the way the knife you were using falls from your hand on the counter, lets him know everything he needs.

“He's fine.” You answer quietly, and Johnny can almost see the walls building around you. Shit, shit, shit. 

You wipe your hands on the tablecloth, turning around. “I think we are out of milk, I'll go buy some.” You say, walking out of the kitchen. Johnny is quick on his feet walking behind you. “I'll go with you.” 

You look up to him as you tie your shoes, nodding without saying anything more. He puts his boots on as well, trying to tie the laces with just a hand. “Let me do it.” You say, no room to argue and you tie his boots quickly. 

Once on the street, you walk next to each other. The shop is not far, but you walk slowly. Johnny knows you want to talk but he doesn't push it. Leaving you to choose the moment. “I actually don't know how he is doing.” You admit, looking at him. “Adam, I mean. I haven't heard from him since the wedding.”

“You got married?” Johnny asks, frankly surprised. He didn't get the invite.

“No. Thank god, I didn't.” You answer quickly, disgust clear on your face. “Almost, but I didn't.”

“What happened?” 

“He cheated. With one of my bridesmaid, during the rehearsal dinner.” You laugh, but without a bit of humour on it. “I was talking with his mom about what we would name the first grandkid, and he was getting another girl pregnant in the bathroom.”

As you talk, your voice breaks, tears flooding your eyes as you cover your face.

“Hey, hey, c’mere.” He motions, hugging you with his nice arm. Good thing he wasn't invited, or else you'll know perfectly fine where the asshole was. Buried six feet under.

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry.” You say, but still burying your face on his chest. “I should get over it, I know. It's been months now, but…”

“No apologies, bonnie. That's a perfectly acceptable reaction.” He says, cupping your face to look at your face. Fuck, are breathtakingly stunning when crying. “Fuck him, all right? You were always too good for him anyway.”

He knows he is exposing himself like this, and that it is obviously not fair to you. But his eyes land on your parted lips, and fuck does he wants to bite. Something must click inside your head, because you suddenly turn around, walking again and wiping the tears from your face. 

“Yeah, you are right, Johnny. Fuck him.” You say, smiling at him but sadness is still in your eyes.

It isn't until a couple of days later that he doesn't get to talk to you alone again. He is lying on his bed, scrolling through his phone before going to sleep. A knock on his door disrupts him.

“C’mon in.” He says, looking at the door waiting to see who is it. Happiness floods his senses when he sees it's you.

“Are you busy?” You ask, only your head poking in. Soap quickly shakes his head, patting the bed next to him. You walk inside the room and sit cross-legged next to him. “Is it okay if I sleep here tonight? Your sister is beating me up on his sleep. At least I hope she's asleep.” 

He simply peels the covers back, letting you get inside. He lets his phone on the bedside table, focusing only on you, and lays on his side, grateful the wounded shoulder in on the left side. 

“How's your shoulder?” You ask, grabbing a finger from the hand resting on his chest.

“It's better, glad it's not my right one. I wouldn't be able to do anything.” He says

You smile at him, your hand moving to play with the name tags on his chest. “Do you know that Adam was deadly jealous of you?”

“What? He had you, what could I have to make him jealous?” He asks, not even realising his declaration of love.

“My attention.” You answer, looking at his face. “He always said that he didn't know why I was marrying him if it was clear I was in love with you.” 

He looks at your face, catching you looking at his lips. “Were you?”

“Hm?”

“In love with me, were you?”

“To the bone.”

And that's all he needs before he's crushing his lips on yours. He hates he can't move his arm, needing to push you closer. But lucky for him, you do it yourself. Moving your arms around his neck, getting as close as you can.

He rolls, moving you along to lay on top of him, finally moving the arm he was propping himself on to pull you closer. Butterflies on his stomach going nuts at his lifelong crush kissing him, taking the breath from his lungs.

You straddle his hips, leaning down to keep kissing him as his hand finds its way to the back of your head. “I love you, bonnie. I have loved you for years.” He whispers against your lips, making you whimper. 

“Show it to me, Johnny. Show me how much.” You whisper against his lips, moaning when he grinds his hips around your clothed cunt.

His hand pulls his sweatshirt off of you, you help him take it off, and it leaves you bare from hips up. He groans at the sight, his hand moving to your arse to push you forward so he can kiss your boob. 

You sit at his chest, his hand getting under your pants and underwear, him grunting when he feels your wetness on his fingertips. You arch your back when his finger easily slips inside because of how slick your entrance is, him moaning around your chest; sucking and licking at your nipple making you moan. 

“Johnny.” You moan, him shushing you quickly.

“I ken, bonnie. But I need to get this tight pussy ready, right? Make you feel good.” He moans when he feels your hand palm his crotch. “Fuck, press it harder, love.”

A second finger enters your cunt, stretching you as he scissors them. You pull his pants and underwear down, enough for his dick to spring free. You marvel your eyes on the thick, veiny, heavy piece of meat between his legs, wondering about the taste of the oozing precum from his tip; a sharp pain on your nipple pulling you away when Soap bites down. 

“Don't even think about it, bonnie. Not today.” He says, his fingers pulling out of you and tugging the pants down. “Take them off, love. And lay on your side.”

You quickly do as he says, hating that you need to stand away from him to do it. You lay next to him, his eyes glued on your body. He grunts, managing to keep his arm under you, pulling you against him. 

This one is officially his most hated injury up to date, needing to push you closer. He latches at your neck, tasting, sucking and biting your skin. Wanting more, needing more. 

“You need a hand, Johnny?” You ask, heavy breathing when you feel his hard dick probe around your pussy but not being able to enter you without a hand around it.

Johnny chuckles in your ear. “Bonnie, I'll rip my arm off to do it if you don't help me right now.”

You laugh back at him, lowering a hand between your legs parting them and fisting his dick making him moan as you align it with your entrance.

Your laugh turns into a moan when he slowly starts to sink in. When he finally bottoms out, he stays still for a minute, hugging you, pulling you close. You turn your head back and kiss him deeply, he starts to move his hips, catching with his mouth every moan that slips from yours. 

It is such a chaotic situation, one of his arms is trapped inside of the sling, the other is trapped under your body, he is still wearing all his clothes, and you are having sex on his childhood bedroom with his mom and sister just on the other side of the hall. 

Still, it's the best sex of your life. His dick is stretching you as no other dick has ever, he is reaching places inside of you that have never been touched before and that now will need to be touched forever, he keeps kissing you like you were an oxygen tank in the depths of the ocean and you wish you would stay like this forever. 

But with the way his hips are thrusting into you and the hand under your body finds its way to your clit, you know there is not much left.

“I love you, bonnie. I fucking love you so much.” He says between moans. “I'm gonna marry you and I'm gonna love you forever. Gonna make a family with you, bonnie. I love you, I can't wait to fucking marry you. Marry me, please, bonnie.”

“Yes, fuck” you moan back, nails sinking into the skin of his ass when you grab him urging him to fuck you harder. 

Johnny thinks is the longest couple of minutes until you finally cum, wanting to hold on just to feel you clench around him; milking him dry when you do with his name in your mouth. 

The two of you stay panting, still in each other embrace. Johnny's dick still softening inside of you with no urge to get it out. 

“Did you mean it?” You ask him.

“Did you?” He asks back, suddenly too aware of what he just said.

“I meant it if you did.” You say childishly, turning your head around.

“I did.” He says, looking at your eyes. “We should probably date before getting married, right?”

“Maybe not.” You say, still looking at his eyes.

You stay looking at each other eyes, looking for any kind of doubt in them. You speak first; “The courthouse opens at 9.”

“We can have breakfast after.” He says, as if that's the correct answer.

“I'd love to have breakfast with you tomorrow, Johnny.” You answer, because to you it is the right answer. 

[smileysuh]

seeing double

🌙staring. Johnny & John x afab!Reader 

🔮 preview. “As much as I’d love to fuck two of you, I know you’ve always been interested in a threesome with two guys, and we both know I’m too protective to let anyone else touch you. I found this cloning spell and I figured, if there’s one man I can share you with, it’s myself.” 

tw/cw. Threesome, unprotected sex, oral, blow jobs, pussy eating, praise, dirty talk, degradation, y/n calls Johnny daddy twice, John calls y/n whore/slut/bitch once each cuz he's an ass, demonic double John is a bit of a dick, anal fingering, deep throating, spit-roasting/Eiffel tower, double penetration (pussy/mouth), triple penetration (pussy/mouth/finger in ass), spanking, choking, biting, punishment, blindfold/sensory deprivation, big dick Johnny, pussy stretching, John cums on her face, etc… I pet names: (hers) baby.

👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 6.9k

🍭 aus. Warlock Johnny, established relationship, etc…

☀️ mlist + an. ya'll thought one Johnny was enough for us, but I give you double John- threesome of the year

“Do you trust me?” Johnny asks, pulling away from a breathtaking kiss to lock his gaze with your own. His hands are gentle on your hips, but something in his smile makes you uneasy.

“It depends,” you admit. “I thought I trusted you last month when you decided summoning a demon was a good idea but that didn’t turn out very well, did it, Johnny?”

“What do you mean?” he laughs. “That was a great idea! He gave me a new spell book!”

“Yeah, a book of black magic! Please tell me you haven’t been messing around with that again-”

“Fine, I haven’t been messing around with it,” Johnny pulls you deeper into his room, “I’ve been reading it.” 

“Johnny-”

“Trust me on this one, I found a spell and I think you’ll really like it!”

You can’t believe you’re humoring your boyfriend on this, but with a sigh, you take a seat on his bed. “Fine, what is it?” 

“It’s a cloning spell,” Johnny grins, picking up the Demonic Grimoire.

“A cloning spell?” you repeat, eyes widening. “Are you trying to suggest a threesome or something? You know, if you want another girl to join, it’s easier to just go find one rather than conjure up a double-”

“Not another girl,” Johnny cuts you off. “As much as I’d love to fuck two of you, I know you’ve always been interested in a threesome with two guys, and we both know I’m too protective to let anyone else touch you. I found this cloning spell and I figured, if there’s one man I can share you with, it’s myself.” 

You simply stare at him for a moment, trying to register his words. “You mean… you want to…”

“Conjure up a clone of myself, and rail you with him, yeah.” Johnny’s grin widens. “Besides, that demon did warn me that most of the shit in this Grimoire is made for sin, and what’s more sinful than this? Lust, gluttony, pride, greed, sloth, hell, even envy is probably going to pop up. Maybe you’ll feel a little wrath too, if you act bratty. We can do all seven of the deadly sins in one go!”

You find yourself laughing. “You sound way too excited about committing cardinal sins, Johnny.”

“Well, I am half demon, remember.”

Sometimes you do forget that your sweet boyfriend is partly demonic. But his stint with the pentagram last month had reminded you just how close to Hell he really is, even behind his large smile and the ‘I love you’s’ that he showers onto you daily.

Many warlocks have a demon mark. Some have horns, or a tail- some sort of clear sign that they’re not of this world. But your Johnny? The only mark he has connecting him to the land below is heterochromia, one eye with a black iris, the other brown. In low lighting, it’s almost easy to miss the slight difference in color, and your boyfriend blends seamlessly into the human world with something as mundane as a pair of sunglasses. Others of his kind aren’t nearly as lucky. 

It’s been over twenty years since all manner of ‘night beings’ revealed themselves to your world. Vampires, witches, warlocks, werewolves, demons, angels- the list goes on. And while humanity has gotten used to these ‘others,’ they’re not fully accepted yet either. You have family members who would have a heart attack if they knew what you got up to with Johnny every week.

“Come on, baby,” Johnny sets his Grimoire down in favor of grabbing your hand. “I’ll only do it if you want to give it a try.” 

“Is it easy to cancel the spell?” you ask. “Last time you conjured that cat with batwings we couldn’t get rid of it for a week-”

“Don’t pretend you didn’t love Mister Whisker-Bat by the end of the week though, you were just as sad to see him go as I was,” Johnny insists. “But yeah, canceling the spell is easy. I’ll be using one of my hairs for the spell, to get rid of the double, all we have to do is light the small alter - and hair - on fire.”

“Sounds simple enough.”

“Is that a yes?” Johnny’s eyes widen. “You’ll have a threesome with me and me?”

You laugh at his choice of words. “You can conjure him and we can see what he’s like, how’s that sound?”

“Trust me, baby, you’ll love him.” Johnny flashes you a wink, his brown eye disappearing momentarily so all you see is the black one. It’s a quirk of his, whenever he winks, it’s always the demon eye on full display. 

“How are you so sure about this?” you ask, standing from the bed and wrapping your arms around the back of Johnny’s neck, looking up at him with a smile. His confidence is one of the things you love most about him, even if it does get him into trouble.

“I just am, it’s a feeling I have.” He shrugs, hands finding your hips. 

It’s impossible to be this close to your boyfriend and not kiss him, so that’s what you do, pressing your mouth against his. It’s gentle at first, but as with everything when it comes to your warlock boyfriend, it quickly turns heated.

Johnny’s tongue swipes across your lip, begging for entry. You invite him into your mouth, stifling a moan at the feeling as his hands hold you closer, tugging you flush to his chest.

You have no idea what tonight will be like, but you do trust Johnny. He’d never let you get hurt, and you doubt his clone will either.

Your fingers slip up to thread through his hair. He’s had it dyed a blondish grey for as long as you’ve known him, and you’re living for the way it sets off his skin tone. You’d half expected the strands to be crunchy when you’d first kissed him months ago, but his hair is as smooth as silk- Johnny has some sort of potion hair mask that he uses to keep himself shiny and soft. 

You tug gently on his hair and Johnny groans against your mouth, digging his digits against your hips. He’d said he needs hair for this spell to work, and you narrow in on two strands, biting his lip at the same time you give a rough yank.

“Ow!” Johnny yelps, pulling away from you. He looks down at you with wide eyes.

“You said you needed hair for the spell,” you grin, holding out the strands. “Here, I was just trying to help.”

He gives you a look that says he doesn’t quite believe you, and it only makes your smile widen. 

“Okay,” Johnny sighs. “Let’s do this.”

You watch him approach the small alter he’s made on his desk. There’s a large, circular mirrored tray as the base. Covering the reflective surface is a number of dried herbs and other warlock items, a bottle of something dark red, what looks like salt or ash- there’s also a few runes decorating the space, and bits of parchment covered in incantations. 

Johnny sets his hair in the center, then pulls a lighter out of his jean pocket. He lifts a black candle, igniting it. As the flame licks the wick, Johnny begins to speak in some form of demonic language, picking up the Grimiore with his free hand. 

You practically hold your breath, watching him as he tilts the candle at an angle, allowing the hot wax to drip down onto his hair, sticking it to the mirror. When he seems satisfied with the amount of black wax, he sets the candle down next to the hairs. 

His voice has taken on a deeper edge as he continues reading the spell, and you can practically see the power begin to radiate off your warlock boyfriend, like grey waves resounding out from his flesh, echoing through the room. 

Your hair stands on edge, a slight heat overtaking you, and you smell the familiar scent of brimstone. It’s a smell you’ve become accustomed to since Johnny apprehended the Grimoire in his hands, and it’s always given you an odd feeling in the pit of your stomach.

You like to think of Johnny as your soft boyfriend, but he’s a warlock, and the demonic side of him is never more evident than on nights like these.

You’re not sure what to expect as Johnny’s spell work comes to an end. Bat-cat had appeared in a puff of smoke, but as you look around, there’s no dark cloud, no evident conjuration-

“Huh,” Johnny cocks his head to the side. “That should have worked-”

The lights flicker out, the room going dark aside from the one black candle burning on the altar.

Then, just as suddenly, the lights turn back on, and your gaze shifts to the switch by the door. Your breath catches as you take in the man standing there, one hand lazily touching the switch. Johnny’s double has appeared, and he’s the one who just turned the lights back on.

“Hi, losers.”

While the new Johnny clone is wearing the same white shirt and black jeans combo your boyfriend has on, this Johnny has dark hair. You’ve always loved your boyfriend’s coloured strands, but there’s something so regal about the dark brown- it sets off the sharp angles of his face, and leaves you breathless.

“Who are you calling losers?” Johnny retorts, closing the Grimiore and turning to face the double at the door.

“I’m calling you two losers,” the clone grins. “You’re a loser for wanting a threesome with yourself, and she’s a loser for agreeing to it.”

“You’re a bit of a dick, aren’t you?” your boyfriend laughs.

“Not any more than you. I’m your double, anything I say or do is something you would say or do, well, it would be if you let your demonic side out more often. You’re so good at keeping that part of you under lock and key, but not tonight. Here I am.” The double pushes off from the wall, approaching your boyfriend. “Don’t be mad if you don’t like what you see.” 

“I’m not mad about what I see,” Johnny says thoughtfully, “I’m just wondering why your hair is so dark. Thought you were supposed to be a clone.”

“My hair is like your demon side, you can try to cover it up, make it lighter, but this spell always knows your true self. Besides, baby thinks I look good with this hair colour,” the clone’s gaze shifts to you, and he flashes you that classic Johnny grin, “isn’t that right, baby?”

“I-” your words get choked in your throat, and you swallow thickly, looking between your boyfriend and his darker double. “Johnny-”

“Another charade to appear nicer,” the clone clicks his tongue. “Your blonde, soft-looking boyfriend might go by the name Johnny. But tonight, you’ll call me John.”

“You’re not the one calling the shots tonight,” your boyfriend interjects, “but… having two different names for us isn’t a bad idea.”

“It’s a great idea,” John smirks, “you came up with it yourself.”

“Can’t argue with you there.”

The two handsome men exchange a knowing glance, and your insides twist with anticipation. 

They’re gonna fuck you up and you just know it.

“So, since I’m not the one calling the shots,” John sighs, gaze shifting to you again, “how about you tell me how this is going to go? I’d hate to step on any… toes.”

He’s looking at you like he wants to eat you up. You’re used to Johnny’s black iris, but John’s dark hair makes it stand out even more. It’s noticeably demonic, and it makes your heart race in your chest. You feel like a prey being sized up by a predator, and something about it has your panties getting wet.

“You know what?” your soft lover cocks his head to the side. “Baby, how about you tell us what you want to do? You’re the one who’s about to be railed, you should get to choose how it happens, don’t you think?”

“I like how you say that as if you’ll actually fully listen to her,” John scoffs. 

“What do you mean? I always give baby a say in things.”

“Yeah. Sure. Except you nudge her in the direction you want to go. We both know it’s only going to take a little stroking, a little making her gag on our cocks, and she’ll be putty in our fucking hands. Baby just wants to please, isn’t that right, pretty girl?” John’s grin widens when all you can do is stare at him.

There might be a response for his lewd observation, but you’re already feeling nice, submissive and dumb. There are no thoughts in your head except ‘holy fuck.’

This dark John is really hot, especially when contrasted by your light boyfriend. 

You’re literally in awe, lips parted ever so slightly, your body tingling with anticipation.

“You know what?” Johnny sighs. “You’re right. We both know baby loves when we’re in control, so lets just… be in control.”

“Now you’re talking,” John grins. “I’ve got a suggestion.”

“Let's hear it.”

“What if we blind fold her? Make her guess who’s touching. Punishment for wrong answers.”

“Punishment?” you ask, voice coming out much shakier than you’d meant for it to.

“Nothing you won’t like,” John assures you. “Now be a good girl and grab the blindfold from the bedside table for us.”

Your eyes shift to Johnny, and he gives you a small nod. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you turn and do as you’re asked, holding out the silky eye covering a moment later. 

“Now put it on,” John instructs. “And this time, don’t look at him for permission. Just do it.”

You do as you’re told, hands shaky as you cover your sight with a strip of darkness. As soon as your vision is blocked, you feel more sensitive. You feel even more like prey. Most of all, you feel vulnerable.

There’s a half-demon warlock and a dark clone with demonic intentions staring at you like they want to eat you up. To top it all off, you’ve now just blocked off one of the most important senses.

The bed dips next to you, and you jump slightly from the motion. 

A large hand smooths across the back of your neck, angling you to face the side, and then lips are pressing against your own. 

This mouth is familiar, and you lean into the kiss, letting out a sigh of relief. You reach out, grabbing at the man’s knee to steady yourself, wanting to get lost in the person’s lips-

But then they’re pulling back. “Guess who?” they ask, voice soft. 

“Johnny?”

A small chuckle, and you realize immediately that you’ve already failed the first test.

“How easy it is to trick you, baby.” He lets out a deep sigh, pulling away completely, standing from the bed. “Time for your first punishment. I think three smacks should suffice. Get on all fours, and say thank you for each one.”

Your skin tingles, heart beating wildly in your chest. You do as you’re told. 

Getting into a doggy position, you bend down slightly, arching your back. You’re on edge, listening intently for movement. Soft footfalls let you know someone is approaching, and then two hands grab your asscheeks through your pants, squeezing roughly.

“First three through the jeans, but once we’re done with you, I’m taking these off.” 

It’s not a question. It’s a statement, and you let out a small moan of affirmation.

Your panties are sticking to your core already, and the first hit makes you cry out, pussy clenching around nothing. It had been a heavy-handed smack, harder than Johnny has ever hit you before- but there’s something almost delicious about it.

Your toes curl, and you suck in a shaky breath. “Thank you.”

“Good girl,” someone praises you.

Another smack has you moaning even louder, grabbing at the bed sheets and bunching them up in your hands. “Fuck, thank you!”

The third hit has you practically trembling. You can already feel a bruise forming- but the pain is perfection, in a masochistic kind of way.

“Thank you!”

“Time to guess who delivered your punishment, baby.” 

You feel like a dumb little slut. You’re already slipping into sub-space, delirious and horny. If you had it your way, maybe you wouldn’t even want to speak full sentences anymore. Your mind is swimming, and nothing feels coherent. 

“I-” you lick your lips. The smacks had been hard. “John?”

“Wrong again, pretty girl. Your soft boyfriend is the one who just punished you, but I guess he’s not so soft anymore. In fact… I’d say he’s quite hard. We both are.” 

“Fuck-” you groan, imagining your boyfriend’s cock all stiff in his pants- then you remember that the visual should be doubled, and you can feel your mouth beginning to water.

“Second punishment, suck us off. We’ll see if you really know your boyfriend’s cock or not.”

A hand grabs at you, helping you off the bed and onto your knees on the floor. “Johnny?” you ask.

“Wow, you finally got one right.” The laugh that fills the room is distinctly clone like. 

“Do I get a reward, John?” 

“The reward is you get to suck cock, and since you just got two in a row, you’ll get to suck both of us.”

It’s almost comical how reward and punishment are the same thing, but you’re in too deep to question it. 

Now is not the time to be bratty, and you know it.

There’s a small shuffle in front of you, and then someone instructs you to “Stick out your tongue.”

You do as you’re told, and a second later, a cock is tapped against your wet muscle. You fight the urge to try to suck on it, allowing the man to coat themselves in your saliva. You even begin to drool, and you feel a drip make its way down your chin.

 “Suck.”

You immediately lean forward, swallowing the bulbous head into your mouth. Your tongue swirls around it, and you sink down as far as you can. Johnny has a big cock, you’ve never been able to take it all, but that never stops you from trying.

Your hands brace against someone’s thighs, and you begin to bob your head. The man above you lets out a groan, fingers threading through your hair, guiding you to bob faster, taking more and more into your mouth.

“Guess who,” the man you’re sucking on breathes.

You pull off his cock, feeling a line of spit still connecting you to the best dick you’ve ever had. “Johnny.”

“That’s my girl.” He pulls you onto him again, hitting the back of your throat and making you gag. Your fingers dig into his thighs. You push your reflex away, doing your best to please your boyfriend.

“Fuck it,” comes a rough voice, “my turn.”

A second hand grabs your hear, tugging you away from your boyfriend’s cock- only for the same cock to be pushed past your lips. 

It’s sinful how exact the clone is. He has the same large vein running along the underside of his length, the same mushroom tip, the same slight curve, the same taste-

But his motions are different. He’s more aggressive, forcing you all the way onto him like you’d willingly taken Johnny just moments ago. The sudden feeling of his tip hitting the back of your throat with no prep - no sucking to start - has you gagging hard, your eyes beginning to water.

Grabbing onto his thighs to steady yourself, you do your best to relax, to focus on the sounds beginning to leave John’s lips, but as he fucks your face, it’s hard not to feel every inch of him. 

“Don’t be so rough,” Johnny tuts.

“Don’t be a backseat vouyer,” John retorts. 

“She’s being good for you, why are you being so mean?”

“This is part punishment, remember?” You listen to the clone click his tongue, and then he’s tearing your blindfold off. “Besides, I like how she looks when she cries.”

This is so sick and twisted.

If John is saying this, it means that somewhere, buried inside your soft boyfriend, he also likes seeing your eyes well with tears. 

You struggle to open your eyes, looking up at John. He’s staring down at you, and he releases a deep groan when he notices you watching him. “You love this, don’t you, baby? You love being used like our little fuck toy. Love taking this big cock deep in your fucking throat-”

You hate that he’s right.

Your panties must be soaked by now.

“Fuck-” Johnny whispers, and you wonder how it looks for him to watch himself fuck your face like this. “Okay, that’s enough.”

“It’s enough when I say it’s enough.”

“It’s enough,” your boyfriend states, firmer this time. 

“Someone finally grew a backbone,” John laughs, pulling his cock from your mouth. You gasp at the loss, a line of spit still connecting you to the rock-hard length in front of your face. Tears trail down your cheeks, and you’re breathing heavily. You dig your fingers into John’s thighs, marveling in the moment of reprieve. 

“Are you alright, baby?” Johnny asks. When you turn to look at him, concern is evident all over his face.

You nod, and it takes a moment for you to find your voice. “Yes, daddy.”

“Fuck, I forgot she calls us that sometimes.”

“She calls me daddy sometimes,” Johnny corrects, “and only when she’s in subspace- you really did a number on her.” 

“We did a number on her. You started it with the spankings, remember?” 

Johnny ignores his clone, reaching down to help you to your feet. He leads you to sit on the bed, getting onto his knees so he can be eye level with you. “He wasn’t too rough on you, was he?”

You shake your head. “No.”

“You’re still good for this?”

You nod, reaching forward to grab at the front of his white tshirt. Johnny lets you pull him in for a kiss, his large hands smoothing along your thighs.

Your tongue dips out to stroke his own and your boyfriend groans, squeezing you through your jeans. “Pants off,” he says, dragging his lips from yours so he can begin to tear your clothes from your body.

It’s shocking how quickly he gets you down to your underwear, and then he pushes you onto the bed. He pries your thighs open, and you feel two sets of dark eyes on your core.

“Already soaked. I knew you liked being our good little cock slut.” 

“I guess I should give you a taste first, seeing as the only cock that’s going inside this pussy tonight is mine,” your boyfriend sighs, pressing one kiss to your knee before standing up to make space for his clone.

“Yeah, our cock.”

“My cock,” Johnny says, firmly this time. “You only get her mouth.”

“What’s the point of a demonic threesome if she’s not going to be properly double stuffed?” John asks, sinking down onto the floor between your spread thighs. 

“One in the pussy, one in the mouth is double stuffed.”

“We both know I want her ass,” John rolls his eyes.

“I’ve never even been in her ass, don’t get greedy.” Johnny clicks his tongue.

Their bantering is doing something to you. The way they discuss this so confidently as if you’re not even in the room- you’re getting a view of Johnny’s inner thoughts, the battles he has with his demonic self-

He’s never talked to you about anal. But then again, his cock is so big it had taken you a while to even be able to receive it fully in your pussy, let alone somewhere else. 

“If you’re good tonight, I’ll consider conjuring you again,” Johnny says finally.

You swallow thickly, gaze shifting to your soft boyfriend who’s really taken the reigns over his demonic double. John chuckles between your legs, shaking his head slightly before pressing his lips to your inner thigh.

“Did you hear that, baby?” John asks. “Sounded like a challenge to make you cum.” 

“Then I guess…” your voice is much to hoarse and shuddery for your liking, “I guess you better not disappoint.” 

The clone between your legs scoffs loudly. “As if disappointing you was ever an option.”

You open your mouth to respond, only for John to press his face against your panty-covered core. His tongue flicks through the soaked fabric, teasing by your clit and making your legs twitch. Your hands fly to grab at his dark hair, and a whimper slips out of you.

He’s being a tease, and from the way he’s looking up at you, smirking while kissing your pussy through your panties, John clearly knows what he’s doing. You shift under his mouth, laying back against the bed and pushing your core closer to him, tightening your grip in his hair.

“Please-”

“Begging already?” Johnny asks, moving to sit next to you on the bed. “Thought you’d hold out a little longer.”

“Can’t,” you mewl, arching your back as John pulls your panties to the side, blowing cool air along your throbbing cunt. “I need-” You lick your lips, gaze dropping to Johnny’s hard cock.

“You want something to suck on, don’t you, baby?” Johnny grins, reaching out to stroke your face as his clone’s tongue dives into your core.

“Yes,” you nod, accepting your boyfriend’s thumb past your lips. You moan around the digit, thighs clenching as John sucks lewdly on your clit, flicking at it with his tongue while you stroke Johnny’s finger with your own.

“I guess I can let you suck me off for a bit, get you ready to take him in your throat-” Johnny muses. “But I want you on all fours, I wanna fuck your face, and I can’t do it at this angle.”

The man between your thighs pulls away suddenly, and his large hands easily flip you over, getting you ready for your boyfriend. It must be nice for him to have such a willing participant in the bedroom- you’re pretty sure Johnny could make any command, and John would follow through with getting it set up for him.

They have a one-track mind, and you’d bet your life that John is just as excited to get you on all fours as Johnny is.

Two large hands grip your ass, spreading your cheeks while Johnny shuffles to his knees and presents his cock to you. As you accept Johnny past your lips, a tongue presses into your wet hole again, and your toes curl at the stimulus. 

“Just like that, baby,” Johnny coos, pushing your hair out of your face. “You suck on me, while he sucks on you.” 

John growls against your clit, squeezing your ass roughly and shaking his head back and forth, earning a squeal that’s muffled by Johnny’s cock, which begins to glide in and out of your mouth.

“It’s funny- I can almost taste you,” Johnny muses. “I wonder if he can feel you on his cock like I can-”

The double pulls his lips from your pussy, and you can feel him momentarily panting, trying to catch his breath from the enthusiastic way he’s been eating you out. “I can feel it,” John confirms. “She’s always so good at sucking us off, even if she can’t fit much of us in that little mouth of hers.”

“She’s gotten better at blow jobs,” Johnny defends you, sinking further past your lips. “When she started, she could hardly take three inches, now look at her.”

His cock hits the back of your throat and you fight through your gag reflex. Your eyes are watering, so you shut them, focusing on being a good girl for your boyfriends.

Boyfriends. Plural. 

You suppose - in this sex-induced haze - you’re already thinking of John as a lover. Any man eating you out as chaotically and thoroughly as he should be considered one, right?

When John’s mouth returns to your pussy and his thumb begins to circle your asshole, you definitely think of him as a boyfriend. Only your boyfriend is allowed to toy with you like this.

“Are you serious?” Johnny’s voice distracts you, the thrusts of his face fucking slowing down. “We just discussed no anal-”

“It’s just a finger,” the clone retorts. “She’ll love it. She’s already practically dripping- reacting all nice and pretty just from the thought, isn’t that right, baby?”

A gentle smack on your ass prompts you to pull off of Johnny’s cock, bracing yourself against one of his thighs while you catch your breath. You find yourself nodding, moaning like a whore in heat. “Please- I can take a finger, I can try-”

“We knew jealousy was a part of this, envy- one of the seven cardinal sins,” teeth graze your butt cheek. “I’m jealous of you getting her mouth and pussy, I’m sure you can suffer through watching me finger fuck this tight ass for the first time. We both know you’ll be the first to actually fuck it sooner or later- why can’t you let me have this one win? Come on Johnny, she’ll love it. You conjured me to make her feel good, didn’t you?” 

“Fuck, you’re too convincing,” Johnny sighs, stroking your face. “Beg him for it, baby. I need to know you actually want this.”

“I want it so bad,” you whimper, a rush of emotion flooding through you. “Please, I wanna be full- I wanna feel it-” A strangled gasp escapes your lips when John spits on your ass, rubbing the fluid around your tight hole before pressing the tip of his finger inside of you. “Oh my god-”

Johnny threads his fingers through your hair, tugging so you’re forced to look up at him. “The moment you cum, we’re switching positions and I’m fucking you, got it, baby?” 

“Yes, daddy,” you moan.

“Now open up.”

You do as you’re told, and Johnny slips his cock back into your mouth, picking up where he’d left off.

Generally, when you’re blowing Johnny, it’s hard to focus on anything else. But today, it’s hard to focus on anything other than John, whose finger fills your ass perfectly while his tongue circles your clit like magic.

You can feel a pleasure bubbling in the pit of your stomach, and each rough thrust from Johnny has your body tensing, the orgasmic coil wrapping tighter and tighter-

Despite the cock in your mouth, lewd sounds are escaping you. A gurgling noise that you know you should be ashamed of- but you can’t bring yourself to care, mind occupied on the high that’s approaching much too quickly.

It’s clear that John wants you to cum. He wants to tear your pleasure out of you faster than you can even think-

His thumb massages your inner walls, stretching your tight hole open and making your toes curl.

“That’s it baby,” Johnny praises you, his grip tight in your hair while he fucks your face. “Taking us both so well.”

You can feel a tear of overstimulation roll down your cheek. This is almost too much for you to handle, and you haven’t even cum yet.

One particularly rough thrust has your throat constricting around Johnny, and it’s the last bit of stimulus you need to come completely undone for your Johns. Your abdomen tenses, and just like that, the chord snaps. It snaps hard. 

You tear your mouth off of Johnny’s cock, practically screaming as your orgasm rips through you like wildfire. Your whole body is alight with pleasure, clit throbbing, pussy contracting around nothing, your ass sucking up John’s finger to betray the deep need that’s grown within you-

All you can do is moan like a desperate whore, clinging to Johnny’s thigh while John helps you ride out your orgasm. The double is unrelenting, as if he wants to work you for every last drop you can give him- his tongue switching between slurping at your clit and diving past your folds, stroking your walls as they shudder.

“Good girl,” Johnny groans, petting your head with one hand while the other wraps around his cock, stroking himself through your high. He’s patient with you, allowing you to experience every shiver and moan, until your walls stop contracting, and John pulls away from your pussy with a wet smack of his lips. “Time for the main event.”

His words make you feel drenched all over again. John pulls his thumb from your ass only to smack it roughly, giving you a squeeze for good measure. “Be sweet for us,” the double warns, as if you’ve ever been anything but their perfect princess. 

In just a few moments, Johnny and John have switched. Your light-haired boyfriend sets up behind you while the dark double settles by your face. His cock is red, leaking precum, and you realize you’ve hardly done much to touch him tonight- seeing as he just made you cum, you waste no time wrapping your lips around the mushroom tip, stroking your tongue along the ridge  you find there.

“Fuck,” John groans, threading his fingers through your hair to anchor you like your boyfriend had just minutes ago. “Who’s our good little cock whore?”

“She is,” Johnny answers for you, sinking his cock deep into your pussy. “Fuck, our perfect little cock whore.”

He’s never called you this before- but it sounds so natural coming from him and his clone. Is this yet another one of your boyfriend’s fantasies? First anal, and now you being a good little cock whore? 

Johnny is generally a man who sticks to praise, and while he’s still doing that- there’s this darker underlayer beginning to be more evident. Maybe you don’t know him as well as you thought. This threesome with your boyfriend’s dark self is illuminating for not only your twisted sexual desires, but Johnny’s as well. 

You can’t help the way you react to the term ‘cock whore,’ your pussy clenching tight around the large cock splitting you open. You begin to drool on John too, relaxing your throat as he begins to fuck your face. He might be a dark double, but John’s being shockingly soft with the amount you can take. He’s not thrusting fully- not making you gag and cry- he’s using you like a man who knows and respects your limits.

At least Johnny’s respect for you transcends form.

“You know what?” Johnny says. “I watched how hard she came with your thumb in her ass, I think you’re right about filling her up properly.”

“Bet she’ll go fucking feral for three holes filled,” the clone agrees darkly, making you moan around his cock. “See? Listen to her. She sounds like a bitch in heat. Fill her up, Johnny. She’ll fucking love it.” 

These men are downright insatiable- you kind of love it.

Just like his double had, Johnny spits onto your hole, and a moment later, his thumb is pressing past the tight ring of muscles. Your boyfriend’s thrusts falter slightly, his focus lingering on the way you swallow up his digit, fluttering around both foreign intrusions. 

“If we’d have known you’d like butt stuff this much, we would have started training you ages ago, baby,” John muses. 

“We’ve still got time.”

“I won’t get to fuck her ass tonight. What time do I have?”

“Next time.”

“So I passed the test? There’s gonna be a next time?”

“Based on how our baby is reacting, I’d say there’s definitely going to be a next time,” Johnny laughs. 

“Good. I might be a clone from hell, but I think never getting the chance to truly fuck this little kitten of ours would be the true torture.” 

The warlock fucking you while pressing his thumb deeper into your ass scoffs loudly. “And we can’t have that, can we?” 

“No.” John tightens his grip in your hair, fucking you harder. “We can’t… also, I have something to admit.”

“Oh?” Johnny releases a chuckle, thumb stilling inside of you. “Now this I have to hear.” 

“You’re under the impression I’ll be conjured until you light your hair and alter on fire, but unfortunately, at the moment, I’m bound to the candle as well. You missed the fine print in the Grimoire. When the candle reaches its end, I’ll disappear too.” 

In your periphery, you’re aware of both men turning to look toward the alter, and your boyfriend releases a small curse word. “I guess we better make this quick.”

“And you should buy a bigger candle next time, that six incher you used tonight is a fucking joke and we both know it.” 

“My bad,” Johnny begins railing into you as hard as he had so far, pressing his thumb deep inside of you. “Guess I’m not the best at reading the fine print.”

“It’s okay, something tells me baby can only take so much more of this. She’s drooling all over my cock, her throat all nice and open, so ready to be fucked-” John groans loudly. 

“We’ve really fucked her stupid, haven’t we, Big Guy?”

Your skin tingles- there’s an inkling of something deeper in Johnny’s tone… is he… is he flirting with himself?

The man above you moans louder. “Of course we did. Have you ever seen anyone with a better cock than this? And for her to get two of us? She’s the luckiest fucking girl in the whole world- I want her to thank us when we cum. Want her to know how fucking blessed she is by this.”

It’s an interesting paradox- to be blessed by a demonic threesome. 

“Are you gonna cum on her face?”

“Fuck, if you let me. She’ll look so pretty all painted in cum.”

“She can’t say thank you if you keep her mouth full,” Johnny notes, digging his fingers against your hips while railing you as hard as ever. Each smack of his hips against your ass has his cock fully buried in your wet core, the tip of his length pressing against your cervix and making your toes curl with insatiable need. 

“No, I guess she can’t.” John stuffs himself fully in your mouth, his cock hitting the back of your throat. You’ve never felt impaled like this- taking two of the largest dicks you’ve ever had- 

Your nose brushes by the dark clone’s pubic hair, and something about it makes you feel even more sinful, your throat constricting while lewd gagging noises fill the room. John holds you on his cock, letting out a deep groan at the feeling of your muscles tightening around him-

“That’s it baby, just a little more-”  

“Fuck, she’s squeezing so fucking tight-” Johnny moans from behind you.

“I can feel it,” John breathes.

“When you cum, I’ll have to cum-”

“She’s close too-”

“Fuck.” Johnny pulls his thumb out of your ass suddenly, wrapping his hand around your front so two fingers can circle your clit. At the same time, John takes his cock from your mouth, releasing a loud moan-

You cum in unison with the dark double, and from the loud grunt at your rear, you’re pretty sure Johnny’s just reached his peak as well.

You’re breathing heavily, mind completely delirious. Your throat feels raw as you swallow thickly- “Thank you, fuck, thank you, thank you, thank you-” you begin to blabber as John cums hard on your face, his large hand jerking himself off while ropes paint your skin.

“Good girl, good fucking girl-” Johnny groans behind you, fucking you through your highs while his fingers continue on your clit, drawing out your orgasm while your pussy milks him for every drop of cum he has. 

“Thank you, thank you, thank you-” you can’t stop saying it, even while tears and cum begin to drip down your cheeks, your body completely overwhelmed by the two men who know you like the back of their hand.

Above you, John releases one last shuddery breath. He strokes your hair, whispering the word “Perfect-” and then, just as suddenly as he’d appeared, he disappears.

You collapse forward onto the bed, pussy still throbbing around Johnny, who slowly comes to a stop behind you.

Then he’s collapsing as well, laying his warm body against your back and pressing you against the mattress. His lips are hot along your bare shoulders and he seeks out your neck, teasing past your ear.

“You did so good for us,” he praises you. “Such a perfect baby.”

“Johnny-” you whimper, as deep in subspace as you’ve ever been in your whole life.

“I know, baby, I know. You don’t have to talk.” You hear him swallow thickly, and with one last kiss to your throat, he pulls away. “I’m gonna get you in a bath. Gonna wash all this cum off of you and cuddle you to sleep, sound good?”

“Please-” you moan, pussy clenching around him again.

“Fuck,” he groans, pulling his cock out of your tight, dripping hole. “We really did a number on you.”

But in all honesty, you really wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. 

☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! dream threesome tbh

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🔮 preview. “What happened to your manners, baby?” John’s grip increases again, making your head dizzy. “You were sweeter to me last time. Only sweet girls get fucked in the ass. So are you going to be sweet for me? Or am I going to have to punish you into submission?” 

cw/ tw. Threesome, unprotected sex, anal, blow job, oral, praise, dirty talk, degradation, y/n calls Johnny daddy a few times,  demonic double John is a bit of a dick, anal fingering, double penetration (pussy/ass), big dick Johnny, pussy/ass stretching, etc… I pet names: (hers) baby.

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 3.7k I teaser wc. 270

🌙 staring. Johnny & John x afab!Reader

bonus

“Surprise, surprise. I didn’t think you two would conjure me again so soon.” 

Your heart skips a beat as you turn to find John standing by the door. It’s been less than a month since you’ve seen him last, and like that first time, he’s dressed as the mirror image of your boyfriend. However, it’s not a white shirt and blue jeans, this time, your boyfriend had gone for full black attire, and it matches the dark hair of his demonic double in a way that has you practically throbbing already.

“What can we say?” Johnny grins. “We liked having an extra set of hands.”

“As if our hands are the best thing about us,” John rolls his eyes, pushing off from the wall. He approaches you like a predator, and you’d missed the swagger in his step, it’s a unique stride that has your heart picking up pace in your chest. “There’s no lying to me, not when I know everything you know, Johnny. I’m here tonight because our perfect little baby is finally ready for the main attraction. She wants to be double stuffed. Fully.” 

“I guess there’s no point in fucking around,” Johnny laughs, “even if we do have more time than last I conjured you.”

Your gaze shifts to the massive candle burning on the altar. You and Johnny had gone to six different spell shops to find the largest one possible- it’s almost as big as Johnny’s dick when he’s hard, and girthy too. You’ve got all the time in the world tonight- even so, you don’t want to waste a second.

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[miioouu]

that coquette trend with the pink ribbons but tying it (not tight) around one of the cod guys cock, like around the base while hes all pink and leaky and hard and taking a pick. ugh im drooling

GIIIIIIRL THE GASP I GUSPED WHILE READING THIS OMG IM DROOLING TOO!!!!! Some bitches get morning texts from their partners, some from their friends, but me?! This is my good morning texts and that's all i need in life!! Thank you for your amazing brain! Tw:smut, female reader 

Johnny ‘Soap’ Mactavish: 

His darted between yours and your fingers. He smiled as you pawed at his thigh, knowing that soon they’ll be around his cock. “Come on, you’ve got me impatient bonnie”, he’d complain as he always does. But this time, you’re ready to switch roles. It’s you who’s usually a mess underneath him; a whimpering, crying mess. What if it’s finally his time to be teased mercilessly? 

“You’re always impatient, Johnny.” you retort as you sit up slightly, shifting as you feel your knees giving up from pressing against the floor for too long. “Close your eyes, I’ll be right back.” You bat your eyelashes at him, he won’t resist it, he won’t resist a surprise in the first place either way. Although he scoffed, it’s not Johnny if he’s not bratty anyway, he did what you asked him for, laying back against the couch, his thighs parting a little more, and there’s a stupid smirk on his face when he closes his eyes “As you wish, kitty.” 

So pretty, standing in all its glory, his cock adorned by a pinkish blush, almost twitching in anticipation. He shivers when he feels the lightest brush of your fingers against his sensitive skin, followed by something so foreign “What’s that, kitty?” he shuffles in his seat, not knowing if he should trust you or open his eyes. “Keep them closed Johnny, just for a second…go ahead, you can open them”. Quickly, his eyes were on you, kneeling so prettily between his thighs, eyes soft and round and your lips are twitching, trying to stifle a laugh, that’s when he looked at his own dick, still covered with your hands that slowly peel away to reveal a thin, pale pink ribbon tied loosely around the middle of his dick. It’s ridiculous, really. He looks pathetic, ‘unmanly’, and yet, despite the rolling of his eyes, he still reached down to jerk at his length. His eyebrows raise slightly at the way the ribbon would move with every up and down of his palm, something about is so fascinating, even for you as you swat his hand to replace it with yours. Something about it, so delicate and soft, made him slip into that mindset, he’s whimpering. Johnny ‘Soap’ Mactavish is whimpering and trembling as his pretty kitty is giving him a handjob! He’s breathless, hissing when you slow down your pace, only for it to turn into a moan when you pick up the tempo again. It wasn’t long before the once pink ribbon became a wet, white mess. 

John Price: 

There’s an evident smirk on his face as he watches you getting prepared for your night out with your girls. His eyes never leave your nimble fingers as they tie a girly pink ribbon at the end of your braids. “That’s cute, darling. You look so delectable with those bows.” You only laughed, shaking your head at him, too used to his antics when you spend a night away from him; anything to keep you home. 

But this time, it wasn’t him who kept you back, but rather the dirty thoughts that kept running through your mind as you applied your makeup. You take a deep breath before marching towards him, thanking whatever god above that John always slept in the nude in the comfort of his own house, all you had to do was to peel the covers to see his already erect cock. 

He has the audacity to laugh, as if he already saw it coming, it makes you huff, wrapping the ribbon a little tighter than what you originally intended. “Simmer down, darling. Loosen up, and loosen that silky thing too…” Jerk! 

You do end up loosening it up slightly, tying a perfect bow around his base, the strings tickling at his balls, enhancing the feeling of it all. His eyes flutter when he feels your tongue circling around his tip, you hum at the taste of his pre. For some reason he’s already panting. He’s already got his fingers laced in your styled hair, pushing you further and further down his dick, until your lips reach the pink circle of silk, gagging and drooling around him. You’re late to your dinner, you always are, but it’s alright. It’s more than alright when he sends you a picture in the middle of your hangout. The image itself makes you rub your thighs together under the table, the sight of his huge cock still decorated with the pink bow, the sight of the ribbon translucent in some places, the drops of his cum pooling around his balls, the text followed after “Come unwrap your gift, my darling” all got way too impatient to get back home to him. 

[agentmarvel]

center image by @/ave661

PART II

hitman!ghost x fat!reader (afab, fem) w/ arranged marriage

mdni - 18+; minors and ageless blogs will be blocked

rating: explicit

word count: 3,010

read on ao3

cw: toxic parenting, implied fatshaming, simon begins his descent into madness, so obsessive!simon

♡

It's irksome, the way Johnny fusses over Simon's bowtie. He keeps turning and twisting it in an effort to straighten it out, but the little perfectionist is just never satisfied.

“s'fine, Soap. Leave it alone.”

“Awa’ an bile yer heid. Damn thing's more crooked than yer nose, LT. Not letting ye get hitched lookin’ like a dafty.”

Simon sighs, rolling his eyes with a sly smirk. He's partial to the nickname, though neither of them served a day in their life. Well, not in the traditional sense, at least. But the semblance is a loyalty forged in sweat and blood; Johnny's been with him for years, a parting gift from Price. 

“He's a good lad, Simon - real salt of the earth type. Bit chatty, but he works as hard as his old man did. Think he'd do well with you.”

Simon thinks he truly understated the chatty bit, but as usual, was not wrong.

“Aye, there we are.” Johnny finally steps back, admiring his work. “Yer tie looks better now; shame we can fix yer ugly mug, though.”

“Oi, fuck off.”

Kyle snickers across the small room, straightening his cuff with a grin.

“Don't be such a git, mate. Not every day the big man gets married. Frankly, with a face like that,  doubted he ever would.”

“You're both fired,” Simon mutters, shaking his head as he moves towards the door.

“Where ye think yer goin'? She's not laid eyes on ye, so I dinnae think she's bolted yet.”

“Better give ‘er the chance then, yeah?”

He slips out the door with an amused hum before wiping his palms against his slacks. Never will he admit it, but a waxing sense of anxiety gnaws at his gut. It’s been years since he’s actually felt… nervous. Not since his first solo contracted kill. Treading unfamiliar territory stirs foreign feelings, but perhaps they’re not all bad ones.

To take the edge off, Simon decides to step out for a smoke. That wasn’t his intent initially, lest Soap bitch at him for disrupting the effects of his subtle cologne, but he’s willing to face the wrath for some nicotine. He pats his jacket, feeling the creased, misshapen cardboard pack in his breast pocket and looks for the nearest exit. It’s just a bit further down the hall.

But something stops him before he steps out. An argument behind another closed door.

“Of course I think you look nice! All I’m saying is that you could’ve put a bit of effort into losing more weight. I didn’t hire a top nutritionist and personal trainer just for you to not need more alterations.”

Simon recognizes that voice. Your father has an unmistakable level of condescension that drips off every word he says.

“And would it kill you to smile? It’s your wedding day, for Christ’s sake! Pretend you’re happy.”

“You’re not in any position to ask anything of me.” The response is acrimonious, venomous, and a voice that doesn’t ring any bells. It’s you. 

“Don’t you dare take that tone with me. I am your father, and you will do as I say.” The already bellicose tone swells as his voice raises, and Simon has half a mind to step in. A sense of fury burns within his chest. He should’ve known that someone with such a flagrant disregard for you behind your back would be just as derisive to your face. It’s crass at minimum, especially in the face of your own fucking child.

The only thing stopping him is the want for things to go smoothly today; a temporary ceasefire to ensure that he can fulfill his obligation.

Still, he feels a tug at his hollow heartstrings. No one deserves to be spoken down to in that manner, let alone on their wedding day. He’s certain you look stunning, and he’ll be sure to tell you as much when he finally gets to see you.

He’ll also be sure to limit contact with your father immediately after the marriage license is filed. Keeping that twat on a short leash ought to keep his beautiful bride in high spirits, yeah?

Before he can think better of his decision, Simon sees himself outside. Getting his fix does little to quell the rage stoked by his albeit unintentional eavesdropping. Before he knows it, he’s gone through half the pack and is about to light another when he gets a text from Kyle.

>>> It's time!

He takes the unlit cigarette from his lips and begrudgingly stows it away. Making his way back inside, his stride slows as he approaches the door to the bridal suite. It's partially open, and from what he can see, your father is conspicuously absent. You remain, however. 

It's hard to fathom how a man could be so cruel to such a creature of allure. In the most fleeting glance as he passes by, Simon's struck with a gravitational pull. You're the moon, he's the tide. At that moment, he wants nothing more than to turn back. He wants to make his presence known and promise you'll never face another day of derision after today. You'll never endure another vile word. A painful, gruesome death would befall anyone who treated you so disgracefully from this moment on. In that singular frame, Simon knows he'd break John's rules for you. He’d break his own rules for you. 

And he's never even spoken to you.

♡

Johnny's waiting for him just a few doors down. As Simon approaches, he sees Johnny’s nose wrinkle.

“Och! Ye smell like the alley behind a fuckin’ pub, ye reprobate. C'mere, ye fuckin’ oaf.”

As predicted, Simon supposes.

It's a quick fix, and Johnny rushes him off to the altar. Simon adjusts his jacket, buttoning it properly before taking a deep breath and pushing ahead. The room goes silent as several dozen eyes abandon their previous gazes to watch him. His confidence doesn’t waver outwardly. There’s no room for that. He keeps his eyes forward as he approaches the pulpit. A familiar face awaits him there in a fresh-pressed three-piece.

“Didn’t know you did weddings,” he laughs, low and clipped.

“Do funerals, too, if you know anyone in need,” John Price hums back with a grin. Simon offers a hand, one Price accepts with a quick, firm shake. “Good to see you, my boy. Been too long.”

“Not long enough if your chin hasn’t caught up with your chops yet.”

“Glad to see time hasn’t dulled your sense of humor.” It’s a dry response, but the creases at the corners of his eyes give away his amusement.

Idly, they chat, waxing philosophical to pass the time. Periodically, John checks his watch and looks into the balcony, but he doesn’t miss a single word Simon utters. Simon’s seen this before; something isn’t quite right, and Price is trying to suss out precisely what it is.

The door at the back of the chapel opens, and a small woman with wiry hair rushes up the aisle as fast as her little legs could carry her without breaking into a jog. She clambers the quartet of steps, looking a bit worse for wear. Sweat prickles her brow, her sunken eyes seeming to recede with each movement. John raises an eyebrow as if to ask her if she’s okay, but she ignores the unspoken concern.

“So sorry to keep you waiting, John. Bride had a little, eh, mishap, but we’re ready to begin.”

Simon opens his mouth to demand more detail, but Price shoots him a pointed look, the aim to keep the dog from barking as he reassures her, “Perfectly fine, Doris. Is the young lady alright?”

“Quite. She's just had a bit of a rocky morning. Nerves and all.”

She shrugs with a timid smile, like that'll placate the intense look of defensiveness on Simon's usually stoic face. He knows she's not being entirely truthful, but to whose benefit? 

Price gives her a curt nod and offers his arm to usher her to her seat. Her frail fingers curl around his elbow, blue veins protruding like a web of thread unspooled. She smiles at Simon sympathetically. They descend the short few steps in stagger, and he can’t help but wonder what it is that she knows that he doesn’t.

It doesn’t matter, he decides. After today, none of this really matters. The setting is a mere formality, born of a desire for flamboyancy and extravagance, neither of which have ever been in Simon’s wheelhouse. His preference for something simple and quiet was aggressively overruled from the start.

His eyes drift over the observers that casually mill about the pews. Only one bears any familiarity, the one patting an old woman’s hand before turning back towards the pulpit, while the rest look more like faceless mannequins, nondescript in the forward echoes of memory. 

John takes his place beside Simon, asking under his breath in close proximity, “Are you ready?”

Simon nods, folding his hands together in front of him and adjusting his stance to face the doors at the back of the aisle. In his periphery, he sees Price signal the woman who sits at the piano. She begins to play something Simon doesn’t recognize. Immediately, those stark moths flood to their seats like a bright bulb.

The doors open after a few measures, a pair of well-dressed ushers securing them in position. Shortly, the two pairs of bridesmaids and groomsmen enter, timely and in sequence. The young women accompanied by Simon’s men are both bright-eyed and all smiles, but the air of wariness is not lost on anyone keen enough to notice. Circumstantially, this wedding is dubious at best, and if they’re close enough for you to ask them to join the wedding party, then they’re close enough to know the truth.

He’s under no illusion that you’re an overtly willing participant in any of this. You were blindsided. Out of the blue - no warning, no inkling - being told over dinner that your father is not the man you always believed him to be, that you’ve been promised to a stranger to improve business prospects, that you’re seen as a pawn rather than a person. Simon feels vaguely guilty for the turmoil, but seeing the lack of consideration for you truncates it. You’ll be better off by his side. That’s not the fanatical part of his brain speaking; it’s factual. 

When he hears the music change from a simple, tedious tune to a melodic version of the traditional bridal march, reality pulls him back into his body. His gaze locks on the doorway. For the first time - the first real time - he gets to see you.

You look god damn gorgeous. There’s no other way to describe it.

The dress is bright white, almost blinding. Crystalline and pearl accents around the neck and waist lines reflect sun rays from the windows, giving you an ethereal glow. Delicate charmeuse drapes some of your curves while tulle hides others (much to his dismay). Simon swears the halo above your perfectly styled hair isn’t a trick of the light. You look like a fucking angel - his angel.

His heart is racing, raging against the cage of his ribs like the bars of a prison cell. It wants to escape, break free and put itself in your hands. The pace of his breathing has quickened, palms beginning to sweat, and a foreign euphoria falls over him like mist. His lips curl into the smallest expression of joy, barely detectable, and John nudges him with his elbow.

“Congratulations, my boy. She’s a beauty.”

A sense of pride swells in his chest at that.

Halfway down the aisle, you finally look up at Simon. In the span of seconds, your expression rolls through a series of emotions; bitter, then a mite of surprise, confusion… then admiration and ire.

You take on a more timid look as you approach, though, fingers wrapped loosely around the inside of your father’s elbow. Despite the narrowness of the aisle, you’re still positioned as far away from him as you can be. The anger is palpable, rolling off you in waves. Just beneath the surface, an indeterminable despair. You don’t want to be here, don’t want to be anywhere near that bastard or Simon himself. He may not have gotten to know you in the traditional sense, but he knows human behavior all too well.

You’re hurt. Betrayed. Defiant.

The iniquity of it all gnaws at his bones as he extends a hand to you. He watches your snake of a father wrenches your wrist with a hollow smile to pull you closer before taking your fingers in his with a brutish grip.

“Do you give this woman to be married to this man?” Price asks, an obscure grit of disapproval at the display thickening his voice.

“I do,” your father answers, tugging your arm forward in an offering of your hand.

Simon takes it gently, savoring the feeling of your soft, manicured fingers sliding across his rough, calloused palm. You lift the hem of your dress with your free hand, taking each step like it’ll delay the inevitable. There’s a tremble in your touch, undoubtedly apprehensive, uncertain, scared.

When you’re settled on the top step, you glance at your father with pleading eyes. His expression is stern and hardened. He mouths an inaudible warning before turning to take his seat, and Simon swears he sees the last shreds of your stubborn will collapse. 

Quietly, you hand your bouquet to the bridesmaid just behind you before placing your other hand into Simon’s waiting one. Tears spring up in your eyes, and he gives you the softest squeeze.

“Don’t worry,” he whispers so softly that even Price almost misses it. Your eyes shoot up to his. “Let’s just get through this, yeah? We can talk about everything when we don’t have an audience.”

You nod.

♡

It all passes in a haze, like Simon’s somehow running on autopilot while still autonomous in part. Both your vows and his were written by the wedding planner with significant input from your parents. An effort to hide the clandestine nature of the nuptials, he supposes. He recites his from recall, trying to place emphasis where needed like code. Yours, however, have him rapt. While he knows the words are not your own, something about hearing you profess your love ignites a spark within him. Hell, he nearly misses his cue for the ring because he’s so focused on absorbing your presence, memorizing every detail of the way you look right now.

One thing snaps him from his infatuated stupor: “You may now kiss the bride.”

He eyes you warily, seeking any sign of discomfort. There are no sirens sounding, no postings of danger, no flashing warning lights. You’ve resigned yourself to the moment’s arrival, and Simon does not hesitate. His hands curl around the roundness of your cheeks, slotting you into his palms like you were made to fit. The tilt of his head falls opposite yours. 

Slowly, he leans forward. Leisurely so as not to alarm you. Your breathing hitches just a hair as he closes in. The tips of your fingers settle against his chest as he reels you closer. His lips barely brush yours, a hint of strawberry as your gloss transfers in brief contact, and you draw him nearer until you reconnect.

It consumes him wholly now, the spark, engulfing his entire being. Flames of desire lick up the base of his spine, rising until your fingerprints are blistering his skin. He’s melting into you, embers glittering as they rise up and away until he’s nothing more than ash, staining every inch of you he may ever touch with a permanent marking that can’t be scrubbed away. Your name is branded on his chest, now and forever. In every way, he is yours.

Price is kind enough to wait until the kiss ends to formally announce the departure of Mr. and Mrs. Simon Riley with a reminder that a reception will occur at a later date. Simon takes your hand in his and briskly leads you back down the aisle, grateful for the guise of a honeymoon flight to stave off a night of questioning and awkwardness.

It’s not a honeymoon that awaits, but rather a lengthy flight back to Manchester. Movers cleared out your apartment this morning, carting it to the tarmac to load. Another crew will be waiting to unload it the moment you touch down.

Simon hopes you’ll be able to get some rest during the flight. You needn’t lift a finger, don’t worry; he’s just concerned for the dark circles hidden under your make-up, the torn bits of skin around your nails, the way your voice rings unsteady and uneven in the moments you’re alone with him.

It’s understandable that you don’t trust him yet. You don’t know him quite as intimately as he knows you. You’re afraid, unsure of what comes next. The life you knew is in upheaval, disrupted by years of lies and deceit. You don’t know what’s real anymore. You doubt everything. Who knew the truth and didn’t tell you? Are your friends even really your friends? Did your parents ever love you, or were you always just a puppet? The strings are too tangled to separate at this point, so you might as well accept your fate and cut them.

You sob into his chest, tears soaking through his white button down. It’s taken so much out of you, hasn’t it? And now you’re here, spilling your guts to a man you don’t know as he holds you, dutifully and steadfast.

One more hour, and you’ll be away from all of this. He won’t lie to you, he won’t hide things from you. You’ll never have to question yourself or the people around you again. You’re getting the life you deserve now.

It’s okay to trust him, sweet girl. Tell him all your secrets, let him in, let him live in your skin, burrow deep in your mind. Simon will keep you safe. At any cost.

part iii

[reareaotaku]

You Stupid Bitch!

Summary: Billy can't be Ghostface, you just won't accept the truth, and neither will he. Why throw away everything you both have over a few dead bodies? Characters: Yandere! Billy Loomis x Reader Tw: Gaslighting & Manipulation

The wind was blowing harsher than it normally did or maybe it was the anticipation. You felt Billy's lean, slick hand graze up your back as he softly kisses your neck. You pull back a little, causing him to glare at you, but he quickly shakes it off.

He decides to lay his head on your neck, while his hand intertwines with yours. You can feel his gaze, but you decide not to give him the satisfaction. You're scared of him and you know he can sense it. He smells the fear reeking off of you like smoke.

Randy was talking about something, but you weren't listening to him. You were too busy thinking about the man that was breathing down your neck.

"Right Y/n?"

You snap out of your head and look up at Randy, who was looking at you, waiting on you to respond. "Uh, Yeah... Sure." You shiver when feeling Billy's icy breath on your neck; It makes your hair stand.

"So, you think Friday the 13th is better than Nightmare on Elm Street?"

"Sure-"

"You think some Mommy's Boy who comes out when people are fucking is better than a man who kills you in his dreams?"

"Isn't Freddy a Pedophile, though? Isn't that why he was burned?"

Randy rolls his eyes, "It's a horror movie, they're all bad."

"Well, Jason drowned in the lake because the counselors were to busy fucking instead of watching the kids-"

"Oh please, cry me a river. Some kids bully you, so you should go after innocent people?" Randy sits down close to you, causing Billy to push himself against you and look over at Randy, while still leaning on your shoulder.

"Why do you have such a hard on for Freddy?"

Randy turns towards Sidney, shaking his head, "I do not have a hard on. But how can anyone think Jason is better than Freddy?"

"I mean I like the Nightmare on Elm Street movies better than Friday the 13th, but when it comes to the characters as people, I'd prefer Jason." You then bite your lip, "Expect Johnny Depp in the first movie. He looks mmmm.... so good-"

You feel a squeeze on your waist and you straighten up.

"But not as good as you, Billy. No one will ever look as good as you"

You hear a chuckle and a sarcastic laugh. Billy glare tightens on Randy.

"Something funny?"

"No," Randy quickly shakes his head. "Nothing at all."

-----

"Why are you so stressed?"

"I'm not stressed-"

Billy pushes near your scapula and a pop sounds in your ear. You groan, though before you can say anything, Billy slowly engraves his fingers into the knot and slowly rubbing back and forth. He presses down firmly and starts making circle motions with the tips.

"What's got you so worked up?"

"N-n-it's nothing."

He lifts up your hair, kissing your neck, "You seem... scared. Are you scared of me, Baby?"

"Should I be?" You question, not looking at him.

He caresses your cheek, sliding his thumb gently against you. "I would never hurt you."

"I'd like to believe that," You mumble to yourself, but he heard you.

"You think I'd hurt you?" He lets go of you and turns you around, caressing your face, "Why would I do that? Do you think I'm some kind of killer? Because, I'm no killer, Y/n. Maybe... Just maybe, people keep placing things in your mind, making you believe I killed people-"

"No one told me anything." You grab his hand as he glares at you.

"Y/n, I'm not a killer. You're painting me as some villain." He pulls his hand out of your grasp and taps your forehead. "I'm not a villain Y/n."

"Okay."

His brows frown, "Okay? That's all?"

"Yeah." You shrug, "There's nothing else to say. If you say you're not a killer, then I believe you," You walk past him and back to your room as he watches you like a hawk.

[elexaria]

do you think you could write some poly!ghoap angst again 😔 maybe simon does NOT like the reader but keeps her around bc johnny adores her, and when he’s gone simon is just so mean to her :((

sincerely, that angsty anon 🩷

simon just glares right at you whenever you steal johnny’s attention, his knuckles white as he grips down on a tea towel while drying the dishes, hearing how you manage to make johnny crack up into peals of laughter. what a bitch, simon thinks to himself as his jaw tenses up. johnny wraps his arms around you, tugging you close to his broad frame with a beaming smile. “yer a riot, lass.” he teases, burying his stubbled face in the crook of your neck, which makes you giggle because it feels so nice in a weird way. “johnny, your beard—!” you choke out, giggling even more as he purposely begins to nuzzle his cheeks against your neck with a cheeky grin

and it gets simon’s blood boiling, absolutely red hot to the point where he huffs and walks out the room with a scowl. you frown slightly, feeling that tension— though johnny is completely oblivious to it, still guffawing as he tickles you with his beard.

later that night, you feel sick to your stomach hearing the bed springs creaking from simon and johnny’s room, the sound of heavy skin slapping and johnny’s whining reverberating through the walls of your tiny shared apartment. “you’re mine, johnny boy. you hear? all mine.” simon snarls, the palm of his hand striking against flesh loudly as johnny gasps and moans in agreement. it makes your chest cramp up, you just know simon is glaring right at the wall where your bed is, smirking with satisfaction as you’re forced to listen to simon take what’s his and there’s nothing you can do but accept it. can you fuck johnny as good as he can? you can make johnny giddy, but you don’t know him like simon does. and you better remember that.

johnny limps out the apartment the next morning to go to a doctors appointment, which simon drops him off at. when he comes back, he can’t help but scoff when he spots you in the kitchen, bags under your eyes. you sheepishly look up, eyebrows furrowing at simon before turning your attention back to making your breakfast. before you can even plate your food, he’s cornered you between two countertops, towering over you with a threatening look. one hand cements itself on the counter, barricading your only way out, whilst the other grips the collar of your tshirt— effortlessly dragging you up off of your feet.

“you hear all that last night, doll face?” he growls, barely inches away from your face. his breath is a mixture of tobacco and peppermint toothpaste, it’s deeply unsettling. at least johnny sucks on a mint after having a cig. you callously nod, breathing shakily as he chuckles. the sound alone sends a terrifying chill down your spine.

“good. know your place, yeah? you’ll never have johnny all to yourself. he’s mine, whether you like that or not.” simon snarls, punctuating each harsh word with a shove, using his grasp on your shirt to push you back against the countertop. your eyes well with tears, cheeks red and flushed with thick emotion.

“best not tell johnny about our little talk, don’t want to upset him.” he chuckles, slowly releasing his grasp on your shirt to lower you back down onto your feet. he smiles sadistically, lowering himself down so he can face you directly. the way his eyes bear into you makes your skin crawl. “you tell johnny about this, and i’ll get you. yeah?” he hums, reaching out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, scoffing as he pulls away and descends back out of the apartment to continue with his day— leaving you frightened and confused :(

[sentientcave]

Fuck-ass Mohawk

Contains: Alcohol, smoking (cigarettes and cannabis), Soap being Soap, Ghost being Ghost, uninvited touching, tall fem reader

Short little thing about Johnny liking it a bit when you're a bitch to him (And Ghost likes it too)

868 Words ~ MDNI

You’d rather stay home and play board games, but Laurie had convinced everyone that it was a good night for clubbing. You hated clubs— The noise, the crowds, the smell of sweat and alcohol and hormones— and spent the better part of club nights standing outside chain-smoking, or crammed into a dirty bathroom stall holding back a friend’s hair as she threw up blue curacao because she didn’t listen to you when you told her to eat dinner before going out. Tonight didn’t look like it was going to end up with anyone puking their guts up, at least. Laurie’s flirting with a gorgeous hunk with a devastating smile, and Alex and Hannah are dancing, so you go out the side door into the alley for some fresh air. Or air, anyway, since the alley’s where folks go to smoke. You light a joint, because at least that will dull the effect that the sound is having on your head. It’s getting close to midnight, which at least means the night is almost over, so long as someone doesn’t drag you along to some weirdo’s house. “Hey, wha’s a bonnie thing like ye doin’ out here all alone?” A voice purrs in your ear. You jump, surprised that he could get so close with out you noticing him, especially once you turn and really look at him. He’s huge, not that tall, probably your height when you’re not wearing boots (You have about an inch and a half on him in your shit-kickers), but broad and way more muscled than anyone has any reason to be, wrapped in a too-tight shirt, and smiling at you, bright blue eyes fixed on yours with unnerving intensity. He pats your shoulder. “Didnae mean to scare ye, lass, just wanted to say hello.” You take a big step to the side, establishing a new bubble of personal space without him in it. “Well, hello,” you say dismissively. “Goodbye.” There’s a snort from a few meters away, a big fellow with a kn95 mask dangling on one ear, his hand up in front of his face, a cigarette clamped between his fingers. “Och, dinnae be like tha’, hen.” “Don’t like it?” you ask, glaring at him. “Go away. Plenty of girls in there’ll go for whatever all this is.” A sweeping, unimpressed glance from his boots and ripped jeans up to his stupid mohawk would usually do the trick, but it only made this fellow smile wider. “No’ enough fer ya? I can sweeten tha deal some. The big fella doesnae mind sharin’ a sweet lass with me noo and again. There’s plenty of ye ta go around.” “Johnny,” the big fellow in question says sternly. His mask is back in place, covering the lower half of his face. “Dun’t look like she’s interested.”

“Tha’s where you’re wrong, LT. She just doesna want to admit it. Hen’s got pride. Wants to make me work for it, right lass?” He winks at you. “No. Don’t like your fuck-ass mohawk.” You puff on your joint, keeping your face still while he splutters, indignant. “Fuck-ass mohawk?” he asks. “What do ye mean by tha’?” “I mean it looks like you have a contentious relationship with your father,” you say. Maybe you’re being a bit mean, but it’s always fun to take a cocky fucker down a peg or two. “I don’t fuck with men with daddy issues. Most of ‘em are cops or military lads.” The big guy— LT?— laughs aloud at that while Johnny’s still looking at you with his mouth hanging open. The side door opens, and your friends pile out, Laurie arm in arm with her hunk, and Hannah and Alex clinging to handsome fellows of their own. “There you are,” Laurie says. “We’re going back to Hannah’s. Are you coming?” “Uh. I guess.” Laurie beams at you, and looks up at her hunk. “Kyle, do you need to find your friends?” “Nah. These lads right here.” He gestures at Johnny and LT. with a grin. “Knew Ghost would be out here, and Soap’s always followin’ him around like the big puppy he is.” “Ah’m no’!” You fall into step at the rear of the group. You’ll probably head home rather than join them, but Hannah’s flat is on the way to your own. Johnny and his handler flank you, matching your stride when you slow down or speed up. Annoying. “So what, is the big guy your replacement daddy?” you ask. “Wha— No!” Johnny says hotly. “He’s just my lieutenant.” “Could be your daddy, if you like,” Ghost says, putting a heavy hand on the back of your neck. “Got a thing for caustic little cunts.” “Oh fuck off,” you say, trying to shove his hand off. His grip squeezes a little tighter, and you try to ignore the way that core clenches around nothing. You channel the heat into anger, and dig your nails into his wrist hard. “Don’t fucking touch me.” He grunts, but doesn’t seem all that affected by your claws. “Look at you, ‘issin’ and spittin’ like a puffed up alley cat. S’cute. But save it for later, eh? Don’t want you to tire yourself out too early.”

[melanated-writersblock]

(O.M.G.P) One Month Grace Period

Toji x Chubby/Plus-Size!Black!Female!Reader

~No Nut November is over, and Toji couldn’t think of anything more exciting than turning you into his free use slut to bring in the new month😘

A/N & Warnings: I’M SORRY YALL I GOT CARRIED AWAY WITH THE STORY IT IS LONG AS FUCK!!! But it’s not just porn with no plot!!! (For those of you that aren’t just in it to get mentally dicked down, I wrote a prologue! The link is below and can be read before you start this fic!)

LIKES ARE COOL, BUT COMMENTS AND REBLOGS ARE BETTER! PLEASE LEMME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! ALSO DON’T COPY MY SHIT. I WILL KNOW.

Content: Multi-sex scenes, praise/degradation, free-use so dub-con, Oral (f receiving), a small bit of spit kink in there, fingering, shower sex, couch sex, kitchen sex, bedroom sex, unprotected sex, What did NLE Choppa say? MEAT TO MEAT! WALL TO WALL! COOCHIE TO MY BALLS!🗣️ (18+ MDNI)

SONG RECOMMENDATIONS: Freaky Bih from Da A - Louisvt, Fuck The World - Brent Faiyaz, What You Need - Don Toliver, 2AM - SZA, Ambré’s Interlude - Destin Conrade, Animosity/ Dear Xodi - Johnny Rain

Prologue - November 30th

December 1st

12:45 AM.

Your thighs quivered as Toji pounded into you relentlessly, the lewd sound of skin slapping as his precum mixed with your wetness filled the room. It felt too good, you didn’t know whether to scream or just shut up and take it. Between Toji having one arm over you bracing the headboard and the other pushing your thighs back, knees near your chest, you felt yourself getting a little too close. “Oooh- Toji, I’m gonna….oh fuuuhhhkkk~” Toji chuckled at your mewling, “Look at you, only 45 minutes in and you’re ready to cum on my cock like a greedy little slut.” His pace slowed, almost painfully. “I didn’t give you permission to do that just yet, Princess.”Watching his girth slide in and out of you, Toji brings two fingers to the base of his dick where your cream spills out with each thrust and sucks his fingers clean. You can’t help but moan at the sight of something so sinful yet passionate, you clench around him as his slow pace persists. Too far gone and busy chasing ecstasy, you didn’t notice Toji move his arm from gripping the headboard to cradle the back of your head as he leaned his weight into you, with his mouth next to your ear. “Yeahhh you’re clenching around me so tight, you’re such a fucking slut. Taking this dick like the good little bitch you are, you’re so fucking wet for me.” “Unnnhhh~” “Ooohhh, yeah. Yeah?” “Yes-yes-yes~fuccck!” “Come on Baby, I can’t give you what you want if you don’t tell me~” “Toji don’t make me……fuck…….please…..Toji pleaseee~” His pace picks up, “How hard was that, Hmm? You’re too shy to ask me to cum but you’re making a mess on my cock with no problem.” As his thrusts get harder he cradles your head, blocking it from hitting the headboard, his fingers weaving through your box braids, your floral bonnet long gone, thrown somewhere on the nightstand. You hold onto his sturdy arms for some sort of anchor, as you feel your soul quite literally about to leave your body. You let the sudden wave of pleasure take over your body as you shudder, mouth open, screaming vulnerably, eyes closed, with tears brimming. “Yesss, cum for me, give it to me, give it to me. Ohhhh, Good Girl!”

9:19 AM.

“Ah fuckkkk, that’s it~” Toji hoisted you against the tiled shower wall with your full legs wrapped around his waist as he fucks into you, the supple flesh of your ass moving with ease as he guides you onto him, the steam of the hot shower shrouding the entire bathroom in a thick fog. Your morning routine took a turn when your shower time got sabotaged by Toji and his morning wood. So here you were, getting lifted up and impaled on his dick like you weighed absolutely nothing. Still dazed from the midnight session, the pleasure was intense, and you were honestly, still kinda sensitive. You leaned your back against the warm tiles and pushed your hands on his sculpted chest to brace yourself and lessen the force of the thrusts, but each time you’d lean against the wall he would lean back so your full weight was on him and your breasts were flush against his chest. Despite your voluptuous stature, he was able to manhandle you and throw you around like a simple bag of sugar. One of his many redeeming qualities, and admirable…..but not in this situation. “Come on Baby, you were being so good for me earlier. You sensitive?” You couldn’t speak, and he knew it. Toji got off at the thought of you still being fucked out and a moaning mess. It haunted his dreams all November. Imagining how many ways he could make you cum on him, scream and writhe in pleasure, all while he’s still chasing his first high.

12:04 PM.

You knew the kitchen incident would have to be addressed at some point, but this isn’t how you expected it to go. “Move your fucking hand.” “Toji pleaseeee, you’re gonna make me cum again~” “That’s the whole point, now move your hand and keep your legs open.” You were in the process of making lunch because you and Toji agreed that you both were hungry, but apparently you weren’t on the same page. Toji made quick work of lifting you onto the kitchen counter and throwing your thighs over his shoulders before going to town. Looking down at him from your seated position, his tousled black hair visible as he laps up your juices. “You taste so fucking good Princess~” Toji was wearing you down, every single word out of his mouth brought you that much closer to your next orgasm, “~Thank you���. He stops for a moment to give you a kiss and you moan, tasting yourself on him. “You’re being so obedient” Toji spits, and the long string of saliva slowly trickles down from your clit to your pussy. You look at him full of awe and arousal at how irrationally hot that little trick was. Laughing at your reaction, he spits on his middle and ring finger before plunging them into your dripping pussy. Starting off slowly in a “come hither” motion, he watches as your eyes roll back at the sensation, using his second hand to toy with your clit. “Aww, my obedient little fuckdoll, looks so cute when she’s gonna cum.” FUCK, you couldn’t take it anymore, he’s too good at this. He didn’t even cum yet!

4:32 PM.

“Shiiiiiit!” You cry into the plush sofa armrest as you make poor attempts to squirm away from Toji’s firm grip on your wide hips as he pulls you back onto him. Your ass ripples as he speeds up his pace at an almost inhuman speed, your whimpering and cries growing louder. “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! I’m gonna cum!” Toji’s brutal pace finally started to falter, something that rarely happens…meaning he’s definitely close. He pulls out, and some of his precum mixed with yours spills out of you. “Not yet Princess, get up for me.” Seeing your dumbstruck state, Toji peels your dazed frame off of the armrest. He sits at the edge of the sofa, legs parted and sits you on top of him with your back to his chest and your legs spread on either side of his. “Theeere we go~”, Toji slides his throbbing dick along your pussy as you shudder, leaning your body back against his in a moment of recovery, resting your head back on his shoulder. He kisses your neck before moving to your ear to whisper, “Here’s what’s gonna happen…I’m gonna finish fucking your brains out, and you’re gonna cum again while I fill you up. Okay?” All you could do was sigh. “Nod, if you understand Princess…” you shake your head subtly still catching yourself. Toji noticed this, and gave you time before snaking his arm around your tummy. “You gonna be a good girl and cum for me?” He slides into you, and you cry out, “Shhh, shh, shh, breathe. You’re okay.” His pace starts to pick up, “Ahhhhhhhhh~” “I knowww, Baby, I knowww, Fuck!” Toji’s words started to slur as he continued to fuck you, a creamy mess pooling at his lap as you both began seeing stars, “Fuuhhkkk you look so pretty like this, shit. You want me to cum inside of you, hm? You want me to fill you up? Turn you into my…..fuck…..my little cumdrunk slut?” “Unnnggggg fuck, Toji, Yeeeeesssss~” You couldn’t help yourself as the tears began to fall, you were in too deep (and so was he), and too far gone to know what the fuck was going on anymore. Your climax washed over you like a tsunami….so strong until you didn’t even realize you squirted all over Toji and went unconscious for 10 seconds. Coming to, Toji was already grabbing a blanket and water for you, “Good Girl, you did amazing cumming all over me like that. I’m so proud of you.”. You smiled, nestling into him as you settled down. Finally, a moment of peace. On the verge of nodding off, you couldn’t help but feel a particular unsettled energy. You look at Toji, who seems relaxed…but not the type of relaxed that someone that just had an orgasm should be. “Toji?” “Hm?” “You didn’t finish…did you?” He looks at you with a mischievous grin, “Not one bit.”

This is going to be a looong month.

[unreliablesnake]

I want you, but… [Ghost x reader (platonic)]

Summary: Ghost doesn’t like to see you date someone else. But when he has the chance to get what he wants, his common sense wins.

Note: We’re all sad bitches in this house (that’s me, I’m the sad bitch) so no happy ending. Ghost, I love you, but you’re an idiot. / If you want to know when I post new stuff, follow @unreliablesnakefics and hit the get notifications button.

Part 2

Ghost usually isn’t the jealous type, but with you it takes very little to lose his cool. You’ve never been together, he knew he had no right to be mad at guys who flirted with you, he had no right to be angry with you for letting them, but it still happened sometimes.

One of the new doctors at base who treated your wound was really nice to you. Ghost was there, he volunteered to escort you to sick bay, making sure you didn’t collapse on the way, and when he saw the way the doc was looking at you, the kind, humorous way he was talking to you, he immediately knew what this was all about.

You didn’t seem to mind the attention, in fact you encouraged him by keeping up the playful conversation despite being in pain. Ghost took a hesitant step forward, planning to ask how you were, if he could bring you something, anything that could break the spell you were under, but he changed his mind last minute. He should keep his distance, he had no right to stand in the way.

He had been more irritated lately as he had been before. Johnny’s usual jokes simply went over his head, he didn’t even feel like being around others. You and that doctor got pretty close, pretty fast, and there was nothing he could do to stop this relationship from blooming.

Ghost picked up women for one night only, trying to forget you at least until he was fucking someone else, but all he could think about was you. Your smile, your laugh, your stupid sense of humor. He missed you, especially when you were both back home and there was no way for him to reach you.

All he could do was stalk you on social media. You barely posted photos of yourself, but when he saw a picture of you and–based on the size of the hand–a man clinking glasses at a bar probably, his heart sank. You were happy with someone else, feeling so confident about the relationship that you were ready to share it with your family and friends.

But then he checked the caption. “Sometimes ‘let’s stay friends’ isn’t an empty promise.”

He sat up in bed and reread the sentence. Did this mean you broke up? Hope filled his heart at the thought, even though he wasn’t sure how this could help him. He was your superior, the two of you getting together would cause a scandal for sure. Price wouldn’t be happy, the others might begin to believe he would play favorites with you, so everything pointed in the direction that you could never be together.

A few weeks later you were back on a mission together, and Ghost didn’t really know what to do. He was nervous around you, always carefully thinking about what to say before opening his mouth.

One evening Soap pulled out a bottle of booze from his bag, inviting the core team for a drink to relax a little. That one bottle turned into two, then three, the number growing because you were having fun together and apparently everyone brought something to drink just in case.

“So what’s with you and that doctor?” Gaz asked out of nowhere, almost causing the lieutenant to choke on his drink.

His eyes were glued to you, and your eyes traveled from one person to another until they locked with his amber ones. “It didn’t work out,” you admitted before turning to Gaz again. “Also, he’s going back to a civilian hospital. Less stress, he said. But I’m not sad or anything.”

“He doesn’t know what he’s missing out on,” Soap noted casually as he raised his glass.

Around one in the morning Price told everyone to go to sleep, saying they all needed some rest to sober up. While Price, Soap and Gaz left, you stayed behind with Ghost, your hands folded behind your back as you watched him with an anxious smile. The lieutenant didn’t really know what to say to you, so he decided to remain silent.

Even though he turned his back to you, he could still feel your gaze on him. “What is it?” he asked when he turned around to face you.

You inhaled then exhaled slowly in an attempt to calm yourself. But then you took a hesitant step towards him and said, “Are you happy that I broke up with him?”

“Why would I be happy?”

“You liked the photo I posted weeks ago. You know, the one about let’s stay friends. Also, there’s another thing,” you began, but you stopped talking. Ghost raised an eyebrow, waiting for you to continue. “Peter told me something that made me think. He said you were giving him death glares ever since he first talked to me in your presence after I got hurt on the field.”

Fuck, he had noticed. It’s not like he tried to hide it, but he sure wasn’t expecting the doctor to pay so much attention to him. What was he supposed to say? That yeah, well, I’m sorry, but he wasn’t good enough for you? In the end he let out a long sigh and put a hand on the back of his neck.

“I hope he didn’t break up with you because of that,” he noted quietly.

You raised an eyebrow at this in question. “What makes you think he was the one who broke up with me? Maybe it was me who let him go.”

“Did you?” You nodded. “Why?”

“Maybe there’s a big, scary guy I would rather spend my time with,” you replied with a playful smile.

Ghost wanted to kiss you so badly it hurt, but he kept his urges under control. When he stepped a little closer to you, you did the same, and eventually you closed the gap between you. He reached out to push a stray strand of hair behind your ear, watching as your breath caught in your throat from surprise.

After gulping loudly, you reached out to take his hand. “Was he right? Do you like me, lieutenant?”

“It doesn’t matter. I’m your higher-up, it wouldn’t work anyway. Go to sleep,” he told you, even though this was killing him.

He could see the signs. He could pinpoint the exact moment your heart shattered into pieces because of his response. Biting on your lower lip to stop yourself from crying, you nodded and left him standing there, making him hate himself more than ever before.

[zorobraun]

sexual tension with ghost that leads to sex (but he’s kinda toxic) part three

“shit, y/n is throwing up in the bathroom! she said she’s feeling very sick.” soap exclaims a little too loud, wanting to make his lieutenant hear it. ghost’s eyes widen. “come again?” he stops cleaning his pistol to look at soap’s face, to make sure he heard it well. soap holds back a laugh as he sees the man’s concerned face. “YOU SON OF A BITCH!” soap bursts out laughing, pointing at ghost. “the two of you have been messing people’s sleep schedule for so long now, i hate you, man.” soap punches his friend.

“is she okay, though?” ghost scratches the back of his neck, still worried if this a joke or not. “yeah, i was just fucking with you.” soap chuckles, taking a sip of his beer. ghost sighs in relief. “fucking hell, do you want me dead or something? almost got me a heart attack here.” he chuckles, turning back to his gun. “shut up, you know damn well that you’d love to have a cute little baby, being a dad and all.” soap points out and ghost smiles, nodding.

“i’d love to, but not with her. she’s too much.” he answers, chuckling as he thinks of you. “what do you mean?” soap frowns, too invested in this conversation. ghost clicks his tongue, focused. “you know… she’s too good. i’d ruin her. besides, this life of mine is shit, i’d hate to put my child in the middle of this.” he says, feeling very empty for a second. it’s almost sad. “i think you already did. you know, ruin her. she probably caught feelings and you’re probably being cold towards her. i know you.” soap shakes his head, punching ghost’s healed arm.

“yeah, whatever. i think she knows i won’t settle down for her, or anyone else.” ghost shrugs, but his heart hurts a little. he clears his throat, putting the pistol on his waist. “thanks for the talk, johnny.” he smiles half heartedly. you, on the other hand, don’t feel thankful for this talk at all. you let out a disappointment sigh behind the closed door, outside the base. fuck you for catching feelings.

“hey, y/n. what are you doing here?” konig scares you out as you put a hand on your chest. you chuckle nervously. “don’t ever do this to me again.” you smile. “i was just… being nosy.” you simply says and he laughs, his hands on his waist. why have you just noticed how tall konig is? “well, i can’t blame you for that. i’m nosy too.” he shrugs, walking towards you.

“where’s konig?” you both hear ghost’s voice talking to someone, and before you could get inside, he appears behind konig. obviously, ghost’s eyes find yours, since you’re in front of the teammate he was looking for. he clears his throat and you look down, as if your shoes were much more interesting. “yes, sir?” konig turns his body to face ghost. “what are you doing? i thought i gave you an order. alejandro’s waiting for you.” he says in his usual demanding tone and you slowly open the door to get the fuck out.

“you stay.” ghost points at you and you freeze, nodding. “sorry, sir.” konig mumbles as he leaves without saying goodbye. ghost sighs tiredly, coming closer to you. “new friend, huh?” he pulls his balaclava up just enough to put a cigarette between his lips. he lights it up, you smile nervously. “he’s cute, isn’t he?” ghost locks his jaw, nodding. “the cutest ever.” he chuckles dryly. “how’s your throat, sweetness?” he mocks with a serious face, looking away to see if someone’s around. he looks at you again when he assures that no one’s near.

you roll your eyes. “good, besides the fact that i have a raspy voice now.” your fake and annoyed smile makes him chuckle. “well, i think it’s sexy.” he smirks, blowing the smoke away. “yeah?” you stare at his lips before thinking twice. he’s so attractive… goddamn, what are you even doing? it’s embarassing — the way you act like a horny virgin teenager around him. “i-i mean, whatever. fuck you.” you panick with red cheeks, shrugging. he laughs out loud.

“i love your voice, raspy or not.” ghost points out, staring at your lips involuntarily. he puts the cigarette out. his thumb caresses your cheek. “if that makes you feel better.” he says in a low tone, holding back a smile, now brushing his thumb on your lips slowly. god, you hate him. you swallow hard when his hand leaves your face, standing still in front of him, too close for your comfort. his eye contact game is strong, so you look away to take a deep breath. “i should get back in.” you announce, pointing at the door.

ghost smirks, nodding. you hold back a laugh when you realize the both of you are waiting for a… kiss. he pulls you closer to kiss you, but konig appears out of nowhere, making him pull back and clear his throat, play pretending. “konig.” ghost greets him, annoyed. “lieutenant.” konig nods his head. “and y/n.” he chuckles, but he sounds suspicious. “hi again.” you smile, scratching the back of your neck. “i’ll talk to you guys later.” you wave at them, mostly looking at ghost. he knows how to read you well.

(…)

“y-yes, simon, right there!” you scream as you grab the fuck out of his desk, making him laugh against your pussy. you chuckle, but it breaks into a moan when he pushes a finger in while his tongue works on your clit. your fingers are intertwined with his hair locks, your legs shaking a bit. “s-slow down, please!” ghost pulls his head back for a second, to let the both of you breathe. he looks up at you and you almost pass out, he’s so pretty like this.

“you good, love?” simon caresses the thigh that’s on his shoulder, placing a wet kiss on the inner area. you just nod, your chest coming up and down. he comes back to your pussy again, this time his tongue is more controlled, his movements are slower. his sensual patience with your body only makes you closer to your orgasm. but then, he starts moving faster and you hold your breath for a second, not knowing how to handle the sudden change of pace.

you’re one second away from your orgasm when he slows down again, your high immediately fading away. you hate that he knows your body so well. you whimper in pain, making him smirk against you. “i’m feeling weird.” you announce with a certain difficulty due to how bad you want him to make you cum. “is that so?” he licks you slowly and you can’t hold back your moan. “do you want me to stop?” ghost looks at your fucked out face. “i think i need to pee. my bladder, it hurts a little.” you explain to him, but he never stops his ministrations on you, because he knows it better.

“then do it.” ghost sounds excited, even though he’s out of breath. you frown. “have you ever squirted before?” you shake your head and it makes him even more hard below you. “let go. do it for me.” he stops eating you out to place a kiss on your lower stomach, doing a trail of kisses until his lips touch yours. “but you’re doing it on my cock.” you do as you’re told. you don’t even have the time to think when he pushes himself inside you with a kiss below your ear, whispering not so sweet words that make you squirm under him.

(…)

the storm outside makes you sigh. you don’t really know how long you’ve been on ghost’s bed, laying beside him, just hearing his breathing. it’s not like you’re waiting for his aftercare or something, you’re just too immersed in your thoughts. “what’s on your mind?” he breakes the silence, staring at the ceiling. “nothing.” you lie, smiling half heartedly, avoiding eye contact. “i know you.” he adds, now turning his face to you. you sigh, licking your lips. you look at him.

“i think we should stop, you know, fucking every now and then.” you give in, fighting the urge to touch his face. he’s analyzing every inch of yours. “it’s all up to you, honestly. i’ll settle for whatever you decide.” ghost kisses your forehead and the world stops for a second. did he just kissed your forehead while saying he’ll settle for whatever you decide? you both widen your eyes at each other.

“did you just…?” you chuckle, pointing at him. “no, i didn’t. this interaction isn’t real.” ghost’s hand goes to your waist as he pulls you closer, giving you a quick kiss as he chuckles against your lips. “for real, though. i think we should stop seeing each other. i mean it, okay?” you say, this time more seriously and it almost breaks his heart.

“can i ask you why?” he’s staring at you as if he already knows, so you sigh tiredly. “no.” you smile, looking away. “c’mon, y/n.” ghost chuckles. god, you feel like running away from his room. but fuck it. “because i’m falling for you and i can’t stand the idea that you would never love me back. i can’t keep having the most soul wrenching sex with you because my heart hurts everytime i remember that although i may not be yours, i can never be another’s. and you know what’s worse? you don’t want me to be yours, never did, never will. so why should i keep hurting myself this much?” a weight just got off your shoulders.

ghost is looking at you as if you were the most brave woman out there; expressing your feelings for him out loud like that. every woman he had gotten with, was scared of his reaction to feelings getting involved. as they should, because… “you don’t know what you’re talking about.” he says, unsure and cold, swallowing hard. you blink a few times, staring at him as if he’s your worst regret. you nod, getting out of his bed.

“you know what, simon?” you smile dryly as you’re putting on your clothes. “i’m the one to blame.” you chuckle, but you’re not actually finding it funny. he sighs, now getting out of his bed too. at least he’s not naked anymore. “i fucking cared for you too soon. i should’ve kept my disgust for you from the beggining. now i’m here, humiliating myself for someone who didn’t even care for me in the first place. i was just your safest option all along, someone who you could fuck anytime, anywhere.” you’re mad as you point at him, your watery eyes making him feel like shit.

“y/n, it’s not like this.” he comes closer and your palm goes on his chest, as a way to stop him there. he looks confused and almost desperate with your attitude. “it is like this. and we both know that.” you say firmly, looking into his painful eyes. he cups your hand on his chest, you swallow hard. you’ll have to get used to live without his warm touch. you pull your hand away from his, your eyes shedding a tear down your cheek.

“you’re overreacting…” ghost says the magical words and you’re done. you laugh out loud, shaking your head. “you’re right. night, simon.” you give up, walking towards the door. he closes his eyes, sighing. “wait, y/n.” you stop, still looking at the door in front of you. “i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to lead you on for so long when i knew what i felt.” you swallow hard as you both take some time to think, never looking at each other. he’s staring at the cold lifeless ground, just like him.

“with that being said, i can’t love you as you want me to.” simon finally says, mournful voice. the silence is so loud that he can almost hear your heart shattering onto the ground. he’s glad you’re not looking at him, because he’s tearing up. you look down, defeated, but not surprised at all; you could never change his mind all along. deep down, you’ve always knew it.

“before you leave, i just want you to know that you were never the problem. i am. and i…” he pauses, the overwhelming affection for you hitting him too hard. “i was full of happiness, when you were around.” he adds and you sob even more, nodding to yourself, since he can’t see it. if he was happy around you, why not give the two of you a chance? you press your lips together, not wanting to keep begging for him to love you.

“i quit.” you announce after a few minutes. you could never handle working with him again after this. simon closes his fist, swallowing hard. fuck him for losing you like this. “i understand.” he mumbles, his chest coming up and down from the despair of not seeing your ever again. he tries to control his breathing. “i didn’t know it was possible, but i hate you right now.” you mumble, hoping to make him feel bad but little do you know that he’s never been worse. “i know. i hate myself as well.” simon tries to smile but he’s just so fucking sad.

“have a good life or whatever. from now on, try to be happy, for christ’s sake.” your sad chuckle breaks into a sob and you never thought you were this emotional when it comes to him. he chuckles just like you. “please, love. just pick up your things and go.” simon tries to kick you out because he can’t stand your broken heart anymore, it’s making his own heart break as well. “shit, okay.” you dry your tears with the back of your hand. “goodbye, simon.” you open the door as you look over your shoulder, just to see him turning his back to face you at the same time. maybe you both needed to look at each other’s faces for one last time.

“goodbye, dumbass.” he gives you a sad half heartedly smile. you notice that his gaze is very upset, heavy, meaningless. he had to kill you but it killed him just the same. was he crying? it seems like he’s got a heart, after all. you hold back your tears when you realize the same stupid nickname from last night. you smile sadly as you close the door behind you, leaving him alone. this time, for good.

you could say that soap was right, simon ruined you. but you ruined him too.

(…)

“brother, what happened?” soap sounds concerned as he catches ghost off guard, smoking outside the base, under the rain. simon looks like shit, but his friend would never joke about it in such a delicate moment, as what it seems to be. “y/n happened.” he mocks, even though he sounds miserable. soap frowns, making ghost sigh and blow the smoke away. “i fucked up, man. but it’s whatever, she’s better off me, anyway.” ghost forces a sad smile.

“do you want a hug?” soap smiles half heartedly, stroking his lieutenant’s shoulder. ghost chuckles, shaking his head. he swallows hard when he feels the urge to cry. the urge to run back to you and say: “i love you, i love you, i love you. i miss you so much, i’ve never been in love before and it scares me, i’m so sorry for pushing you away when i knew what i truly felt. what i felt for you was everything i’ve ever wanted to feel since i met you. come back, love. come back to me. come back because i still search for you in everyone and everywhere. come back because my eyes are only satisfied when you’re the one standing in front of them. come back because you told me to be happy and i won’t be able to make it if you’re not near. just come back.”

but he can’t. it’s too late.

“i need to tell the team about it.” ghost says, putting the cigarette out. soap nods, opening the door. the two of them get back in, making the team stare at ghost. he clears his throat. his heart is heavy. “i’m here to announce that y/n is no longer a part of our team. she quit yesterday.” ghost says in his usual firm voice, but god knows he’s falling apart on the inside. the team looks very upset, but they nod with a sad smile, already knowing that simon was the reason she quit — his defeated aura said it all.

“she really liked you, you know…” alejandro breaks the silence, looking not at his lieutenant, but at his friend, simon riley. “i know.” simon nods with an upset smile, lighting up another cigarette. “that’s all, y’all can go back to work or whatever.” he smiles half heartedly. soap clears his throat. “um, lt…” he says, ghost looks at him, confused. “last week, i kinda invited her to my birthday party, at the bar, this weekend. she said she’ll be there. is this okay?” soap holds his breath when he notices ghost’s death stare.

he locks his jaw. “of course. i’m too old for drama, anyway.” simon mumbles, already regretting to have soap as his closest friend; he could never be absent at johnny’s birthday celebration. just like you would never not go, since you’re a people pleaser.

fucking awesome.

[prettyyoungandbored]

Playboy - Johnny Knoxville

Pairings: Johnny Knoxville x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of nudity

Author’s Note: A short Johnny Knoxville x Babydoll fic.

NOT MY GIF

“I was thinking maybe we get the guys into a glitter pool,” Jeff spoke up.

Y/N snorted, her coffee cup to her lips. “The clean up process is gonna be bitch. We did a similar concept for a ‘Playboy’ shoot once and it took us two hours to clean up everything.”

Johnny perked his head up, interested. “Wait what about ‘Playboy’?”

“Oh, I worked production on some ‘Playboy’ shoots,” she shrugged.

“She also wrote for the magazine,” Jeff added. He turned his attention back to Y/N. “They really made you guys clean it up? Doesn’t the mansion have like a clean up crew?”

“Yeah for the mansion,” she said. “The shot ended up looking amazing but it was just awful to clean up.”

Johnny tuned out the rest of the conversation as his mind drifted to daydreams of Y/N posing for Playboy.

======================================

An hour later, he wandered over to Y/N’s makeshift office where she finished printing the shooting schedules for the week.

“Hey you!” she beamed. “I was thinking about stopping at the store and bringing some dessert for the Margera’s dinner tomorrow tonight. Any ideas?”

He waved his hand. “Anything will be great. So, ‘Playboy’, huh?”

She made a face. “You do realize it is not that big of a deal, right? Like it was a job.”

“But then you wrote for the magazine too?”

“Yeah. Hugh Hefner and I got into a conversation one time and he was interested in my writing. I sent him a couple stuff and he published it.”

Johnny’s eyes widened. “What did you write?”

“I can send you copies,” she laughed. “I wrote under a pseudonym.“

“Oh yeah? What was the name?”

“Maxine Flynn.”

Johnny nodded his head, making a mental note to search the went for the name. “Did you ever get scouted or asked to pose nude?”

She scrunched her face. “God no.”

“So you had a whole conversation with the man himself and he didn’t once ask you if you were interested in being a playmate?”

She chuckled. “I get where this is going and you’re very sweet, but no, I did not get asked to pose for the magazine or to be a playmate. All I did was some behind-the-scene stuff and some writing.”

He shoved his hands in his pants pocket. “You would’ve been my favorite playmate.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“You know what, you are my favorite playmate.”

She rolled her eyes. “That’s not how that works.”

“I don’t care. You’re my favorite playmate.”

She hummed. “I didn’t realize you would be ok with the entire world seeing my tits out.” She kissed his cheek. “Good to know though!”

She made her way out of the office when Johnny yelled out, “Hey, I never said that!”

======================================

Johnny spent hours reading Y/N’s stories for Playboy, blown away. Sure, he was aware of her creativity and brilliance, but he didn’t realize just how truly talented she was.

The knock on his hotel room door pulled him away from his rabbit hole. He opened the door to find Y/N standing there.

“I can’t sleep so I need to you cuddle me until I do,” she said, walking in.

He closed the door and watched her crawl into his bed.

She looked at him. “What?”

“Yeah, I just spend like a couple hours reading your Playboy stuff,” Johnny admitted, pointing to the laptop.

She glanced at the laptop and then back at him. “Ok, so ask me your questions while you cuddle me.”

She held out her arms as Johnny closed the laptop and then jumped into bed beside her.

As she cuddled to his chest, she yawned. “Alright, what questions do you have for me?”

======================================

Two Years Later…

Y/N knocked on Johnny’s home office door, holding a the wrapped gift behind her.

“What’s up, Babydoll?” Johnny asked, his eyes still on his desktop computer.

“I have a present for you.”

Johnny’s eyes now moved to her and he got up from his desk. “What is it?”

She presented him the wrapped item. “Think of it as a little engagement present.”

He pouted, taking the gift in his hands. “Cutie, you didn’t have to get me a present.”

“Oh, but I think you’ll like it,” she smirked.

Johnny ripped it open and his face dropped. It was a framed photo of what looked like a fake Playboy magazine cover with Y/N posing semi-nude. She held her bare breasts with her hands as her lower region was covered with a large text that read FUTURE MRS. KNOXVILLE.

Johnny fixated on it, unable to process what the hell she had given him. She smiled at him, delighted.

“I used my connections for the photo shoot and graphics,” she explained. “It looks real, doesn’t it?!”

Johnny turned to his face, eyes hungry.

“Bedroom. NOW.”

[love-lilly02]

The Challenge pt. 4

AN: This chapter was supposed to be out yesterday but I got kinda sick so I couldn't edit it, Anyways, enjoy!!

“Would you mind spotting me?” 

The question seems innocent enough, if you weren’t asking it to the scariest man on the base, much less your lieutenant.

Ghost lifted his head from where he was sitting on a bench, unwrapping his hands after his own training session. 

You quickly back tracked at his expression, rethinking your choice. “You don’t have too, I think I got this set-“

“No, no I got it.” He stood, moving behind you, standing a little too close, but you chose to ignore it. 

The set was fairly easy, and you finished quickly, thanking him quietly as you moved to put the weights back on their stand. 

“Can I ask you somethin?” Ghost questioned, and you turned to see that he was studying you intently. 

“Yeah?” You prompted, tilting your head slightly. 

“That bet… Why’d you do it?” 

You shrugged. “I was drunk, mostly. Figured there couldn’t be any harm. What’s the worst that can happen, anyways?” 

That made him chuckle. “You have no idea, do you?” 

“What do you mean?” You asked, furrowing your brow in confusion. The tall man walked closer to you, moving you slowly till your back hit the wall. 

“This ain’t just a game to those boys, it’s a challenge. Whoever wins you won’t be kind, I hope you know that.” He places an arm above your head, effectively pinning you against the wall. You can feel his breath through the mask, and the warmth against your neck sends a shiver down your spine. 

“Honestly, darlin’ You’re a right fuckin tease when you wanna be, hm? Acting all innocent, like you don’t know how much we all want to-“

“I’ve got it!!” 

Soap’s voice cut through the whole training room, as he ran in frantically waving a piece of paper in the air. “I found one! Take that bitch, I’m in the lead!” 

“Wait, what? Found what?” You and Ghost jumped apart from each other, both running over to where Johnny was doing a -frankly crude- victory dance. Your heart was absolutely pounding, heat still flying through your body at the encounter with Ghost. 

We all want to what? What do they want to do…

“You did not find it, I did.” Kyle huffed, diving for the photo in Soap’s hand. “Give it back you pathetic excuse for a-“ 

“Hey,” Price said in warning. Kyle just huffed and backed away from Soap. 

“Finders keepers,” Soap teased in a sing song voice, throwing the photo on the bench. “The first of ten. Which puts me in the lead.” 

“You aren’t in the lead if you stole a photo, that’s not how it works.” Ghost said, kneeling down to pick up the image.

“Like I said, finders keepers. S’not my fault Gaz wanted tae hoard the photos till ‘e got all ten. His loss aye?” Soap nudged you playfully on the shoulder, but you were too busy trying to see the image to acknowledge him. 

Gaz looked pathetically over to Price, opening his mouth to plead his case. Price beat him to it, however. “Soap, that’s not nice. Gaz found it, he takes the credit.”

“Awe, come off it captain, It’s just a bit of fun  huh?” 

“Johnny.”

“Yes sir.”

“Still dont think it’s fair,” Ghost threw in. 

“Whadya mean? I found the image-“ Kyle protested, turning to Ghost now. 

“Yeah but from where?” Ghost challenged, placing the photo back on the bench 

“Online? Don’t see how it matters, it’s a photo.” 

“But it’s not creditable, this could be edited-“

And so it continued. You had long since tuned out the bickering, leaning down to look at the photo. It did look like you, a smiling child holding an award for something you couldn’t really read. 

The closer you looked, however, the more you started to see the imperfections. The girl in the photo had straight hair, at that age yours was more curly. And she was holding a ball in her hands, a basketball. 

Of all the sports you played, basketball was never one of them. 

“That’s not me.”

They were still shouting, yelling over each other to be heard above the voices. Johnny was pressing Kyle for where he got the information, and Kyle was refusing to say, under the excuse it would give them a ‘better advantage’ than he had. Johnny was still trying to insist they should share the win, and Price was just yelling for everyone to calm the fuck down. 

“Hello?” You called, trying to raise your voice above all of them. “Hey, I said that isn’t me.”

But the yelling continued. It seemed to go on forever, all of them arguing over one small image. The topic slowly changed, however, till they started crossing into uncharted territory. 

“Look-“ Gaz snapped, breathing heavily. “I found the photo, just like the deal said. That makes one out of ten for me. You lot can do what you will but I’m not sharing.”

“You didn’t have a problem sharing last night, isn’t that right?” Ghost hissed, and the gym was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Your head ached trying to figure out what the boys were saying, the double meanings behind everything, but you couldn’t keep up. 

“I don’t give a fuck what I did and didn’t do last night, what’s fair is fair.” Kyle snapped, turning to grab the photo. 

“You’re just mad cause you don’t want to think about one of us fu-“ 

“That’s enough!” Now it was you who was yelling, and the boys watching you in disbelief. 

“Look, this isn’t like that, okay! I’m sick of you all objectifying me like i’m some fucking doll. I don’t know what side bets you have going on but I want out of this one. I made the deal drunk and you all watched me try to get out of it the next morning, and now you’re yelling like fucking children over a picture that doesn’t even have me in it. I never even did basketball for fucks sake! And you would know this if you acted like normal fucking human beings, much less behave like the grown men you are and ask me.” They all looked at you in absolute shame, as you threw the photo on the ground. 

“And for the record, I am not fucking one of you on a deal. I don’t work like that so get the thought out of your head.”

You shoved past the wall of muscle made up by both Price and Ghost, storming off to your room.

For the longest time, he sat there and thought about exactly what happened in the gym. 

Kyle was no fool. He understood what bringing up the photo would do, and he knew Soap would try and take the credit, as they had agreed the night before. 

He didn’t actually know why he changed his mind. Kyle had no problem sharing you with the others, they were right anyways. 

He shared all the time. 

But something about introducing you to… this… scared him. As if they could frighten you off. 

He knew that wasn’t true, so why did he think that way?

An apology message sat, typed out on his phone. He was procrastinating, heavily, on sending it, worried that it might be a little too much for you to handle. 

Was it? You had taken your the whole team so nicely, he thought you would be ready… 

 More photos of you sad scattered on his desk. A lot of them looked like what Price had found before, a bunch of family photos with you missing or images of a girl who looked exactly like you but she wasn’t you. 

Today’s events proved that. 

Anyone else might have been saddened at the revelation. Putting weeks of work into one image, just to be wrong? Enough to crush a man, if it was done correctly.  

But Kyle Gaz Garric is no ordinary man.

Before he can think about it too much, he hurriedly hits send on the message and closes his phone. 

Now, we wait.

My Masterlist

[dontbesoweirdkira]

Kung Lao yandere headcanons

Warnings: Yandere (obsessive and toxic themes) just cute little mentions of gore and murder blah blah blahhhhhhh…kung Lao being a little bitch. (Kinda inserted my fiancé as Kung Lao so if the personality is off…no it isn’t they are literally the same exact person🤞)

Requests: only for Yandere Kung Lao, Shang tsung, raiden and Johnny Cage mk11/mk1/X

General Yandere Headcanons

Kung lao has been fond of you from the beginning. You were always very open and welcoming towards him. Never once did you ever make fun of his hat or ever compare himself with Liu Kang like many many others.

Whenever he messed up or didn’t quite match up with his counterpart, you would encourage him and remind him of all he has to offer and that one small fail shouldn’t break him. You were the best friend Kung Lao could ever ask for.

As much as he’d hate to admit, he was desperate for this kind of special attention. He needed to be loved and praised, he needed to be better than all the other competitors. He especially needs to be better than Liu Kang…

After seeing him train harder than ever this past year for the next tournament, you turned to him and said..

“You know what? I honestly think you’re a far better fighter than Liu Kang at this point, and I wish more people could see that. It kind of irks me how Raiden doesn’t believe in you like he does Liu.”

Anyone else would say you were being a little too generous with that statement, but you meant exactly what you said.

Little did you know that this seemingly harmless comment made something in his brain snap….

No one has ever said anything remotely close to this to him. Sure, he’s gotten good remarks on his skills before but he’s always lived in his friend’s shadow. Finally, someone sees him for just how great he truly is.

His inhibitions were now gone and in that moment he decided you were his. You say it’s kidnapping, he says it’s redirecting you in the direction of his house. potato,patato!

He feels absolutely no guilt for kidnapping you and forcing your relationship. He believes he’s in the right most times. Everything he does is justified, including this……in some very sick way.

Kung Lao is a very needy and klingy Yandere. He orders you to be around him at all times or at least updating him constantly when you can’t be. Which is very rare, usually only happens if he has to be with the shaolin or if Raiden needs to speak with him privately.

He has a huge ego that constantly needs to be inflated by you. The man can’t help it, he craves your worship.

This means when he forces you to attend his sparring matches, tournaments, and workout sessions, you need to pay extra close attention. He will ask you specifically what you enjoyed about today's session and you better be raving about it, or it’ll be a hissy fit for the rest of the day. (So sassy)

Will shower you in compliments all damn day. He thinks you're absolutely beautiful in every single way and one thing that Kung Lao hates more than anything is someone with low self esteem. Lack of confidence is annoying to him so he’ll make sure you know you’ve got it going on.

(Ironic since deep down he’s crippling from his insecurities)

Very very physically affectionate and expects you to reciprocate it. Smothers you in kisses and cuddles.You have to hold his hand in public so people know that you're his. The way his grip is on you thooo. ;-;

Will just plop on top of you like he’s not 180 pounds of pure muscle. He’s so huge omg like you get crushed any time he has one of his love attacks.

Has a very mildly short temper. Most of his anger is never really taken out on you though. He’s just kind of asshole-ish to everyone outside of you

Will 100% threaten you and let you know that he’s not to be tested tho. He loves games but not when they come to you.

He cannot bear you giving anyone other than him attention, especially other men. Why do you even need to speak to other men??? You have the great Kung Lao right next to you.

Someone hits on you, he’ll get rid of them….

He’s willing to kill anyone for you. It’s all honorable, because it’s to protect the sanctity of his precious relationship.

If you start talking to someone for a little too long, flirting or he suspects you’re interested in another, he’s going to kill them too.. slowly and brutally…all for you to watch. He’ll slice the unsuspecting fellow in half, look up at you with a big ol’ grin!

“See, this is what I have to do when you start talking to people you shouldn’t. Now my hat is all filthy because of you.”

You need to know that Kung Lao is serious about you, and there are consequences to your stupidity. This will surely keep you in line.

Will also set punishments up too. He can’t find it in his heart to ever put his hands on you, but sometimes when he’s in one of many temper tantrums, he’ll leave bruises on your arm from grabbing or pulling you too hard. Though with that said, even if you try attacking him he will just try to pin you down or restrain your hands until you finally give up.

It’s kind of cute to him when you struggle. He’s so much stronger and bigger than you but you still think you have a chance…aww that’s so adorable and kind of amusing to him.

Usually his punishments consist of him locking you up for a day or two in his room, making you clean off his bloody clothes after he’s dealt with someone because of you, or doing some kind of chores he doesn’t want to.

If you try running away he will be deeply hurt and humiliated by this. He scolds you after he catches you and immediately ties you up. He takes away any basic necessities to further punish you. You’ve embarrassed him and now he’ll have to endure the whispers about it.

Why would you run away from the only person who can keep you safe? Is he not enough for you anymore???

You think this is some sort of fun joke?

Do you think someone fights better than him?????? If so he will challenge them to kombat to show you that he’s just as great as he was before.

Once he finally calms down kung lao would be very mopey for the next couple of hours. His ego is shattered in this moment and he just wants you to love him back. He’ll cling on anything you give him, he’ll even lose the hat for you if it meant that you’d never leave him again.

This is one of the only times where he’s openly vulnerable to you, outside of this he puts on his usual persona. Always self assured and well together. If you see Lao’s weak side too often you’ll think less of him.

Once you’ve finally gave in to his painful hours of pandering and promised to never leave him again, he snaps back to his old self.

It doesn’t matter how much you only thought of him as a close friend, Kung Lao is determined to break you down and become his perfect match. You’re the only one who understands him, and sees his true worth so he’d be a fool to just let you slip away. He’ll prove to you that he truly is the greatest once becomes the next champion. You'll soon see.

[brokenpieces-72]

Files and Timing

Holding cells aren’t exactly comfortable and when you’re highly wanted men in a police station where there is no one in your pocket things get ugly easily. Price and his men were separated but they didn’t talk much.

Alejandro was pacing constantly, his thoughts going to Rudy. Rudy had stitches from the raid which made him an easy target. Thankfully no one had entered the cell to take advantage of his injuries. Kyle was in the same cell as Price, Johnny and Simon next door. Farah was being held in a different precinct.

When Simon asked to speak with you it threw them off a little. They waited patiently for his return, which was a rough one. A couple of guys were dragging while he tried fighting them off. Price had seen Ghost fight cops, this was just an act.

“Bitch had it coming!” Simon barks out once they finally get him in the cell. The cops ignore him as they walk away.

“Little rat like the rest of ya!” Johnny calls out joining in, and leaning against the bars. “Yeah keep walkin, blue collared mutts. Just mad cause you got nothing on us!”

Once the cops turned the corner and he heard the door close, Simon spoke up over Johnny’s taunts.

“Shut up Soap fucking hell.” Simon says sitting down. Johnny gives him a look of confusion.

“They’re dogs like y/n, since when do you care?” Johnny argues.

“Y/n is not a dog.” Simon says. “They’re a cat.”

“…saying they’re a pussy or…” Kyle says, to clear the silence. He gets some looks and puts his hands up in apology. Just wanted to break the tension. What was he supposed to say after Simon says something like that?

“What are you getting at Simon?” Price asks, moving on from the subject.

“Shit use of metaphor. The kid didn’t do anything wrong.” Simon says.

“They snitched on us, told us bout it and then got us cuffed.” Johnny argues, leaning back against the bars and folding his arms.

“Let’s hope you’re wrong then, otherwise this may be a problem.” Simon says sitting back in his seat. “As long as the kits are taken care of that’s my main concern.”

“Softy.” Kyle mutters.

……

Farah is escorted out of the holding cell she was put in and sees both you and Alex waiting for her. You have your uniform back on, and holding a file. Farah is somewhat relieved to see you both, but is a little confused. She listens as she’s read her rights and rules for being released. Once finished she comes over and Alex hugs her.

“I’m alright.” She mutters.

“I know.” Alex says. The three of you leave and head to a safe location. Alex’s place. You excuse yourself to get changed in the bathroom while Alex makes Farah some food.

“How?” Farah asks, sitting at the table.

“This stuff.” You say coming out holding up a file. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

You set it down, sitting at the table, sliding it over for Farah. Farah takes it and opens it immediately. You fidget in your seat a little, nervous about what she’ll say. Admittedly Farah was a test to see if you could pull it off. Farah believed in the system somewhat, knowing it was rigged and flawed she still believed in it to a degree, which meant she never tried to cheat it. Broke it yes, but never cheat. Farah looks over the evidence and her brow furrows. You fidget more.

“You truly didn’t do anything wrong, this just proves it.” You say, hating the only sound was from Alex in the kitchen. Farah shuts the file and slides it back to you.

“You faked the evidence.” She states with no real tone to her voice. You can’t meet her gaze, but you feel it. “Can you do it again?”

You look up at her surprised. There is a serious look on her face. There’s a hint of displeasure. She knows what this meant and the risks you took. It was necessary to test it, and bail wasn’t something you could get for the guys. You’d already gotten started on Rudolfo and Alejandro, their files just needing a couple pieces to get everything you need. She doesn’t like doing it, but she knows it will save plenty of time.

“Rudy and Alejandro’s are have a couple more photos printing now.” You say. You look back down at your hands, playing with your fingers. “I’m sorry about the other night, I should’ve intervened.”

“If you did you’d be in more trouble. Alex was enough.” Farah says. “What do you need from me?”

“I’m still working on that. I have to get back to work, and I’ll need to hold some interviews. Not sure how easily I can face them.” You admit. “Wanted to see if I could do it first.”

Graves got you all of the evidence from the night in question. You get to work immediately, staying up late with all the files, keeping yourself awake as much as possible. You needed to put a whole new case together with the parts you already had. Thankfully, you just needed to wake up some criminal records for motive but giving the guys a reason to be there… that was more difficult. Alibis couldn’t easily be made. You needed to land them somewhere. Everyone you could trust to provide a fake alibi was unreliable. In the end you still needed Nolan. Nolan could cough up the truth, and you could give the guy probable cause for being there. From there you might be able to get them off. Say they intervened in a vigilante act.

You had to find a way to reach him though. The two times were by chance. The first he was in a diner, may not have even known who you are. The second time he did and tried to yank you from the streets. You needed to find him and fast. Right now the only one who was close by and willing to talk, that might know Nolan is Milena, but that was a massive risk going after her. Someone as high profile as her, security may not be an issue but if she talked, plenty of high powers would take her seriously.

You’re going through all of this in your bedroom, papers and files sorted into messy piles, the light disguising the time. When you check it you see it’s an ungodly hour in the morning. The same morning you had to go back into work. Graves might send you back home once he sees you but knowing him it won’t be easy. You spend what time you have left before you go to sleep for a few minutes, looking for evidence of Nolan. Security cameras picked up a figure fleeing a ship. The face is a little fuzzy but you could enhance it.

Unfortunately, you don’t get the chance to show it. In your half baked exhausted state someone grabs you on your way to work.

Graves is bouncing his leg at his desk, asking everyone who comes in about you. They all shrug saying they haven’t seen you for some time. He considers filing a missing persons report for you. First he makes some calls, asking about you. First the pub, assuming someone might be there. Nothing. Then he tries Alex, but he says you went home. Graves has tried your cell more than once, with no answer and he’s even called the land lord. Still nothing. Graves tries to focus on work but it’s impossible. You wouldn’t go dark for no reason. He’s missing something.

That something is you.

He gets up from his desk and goes to the holding cells. Before he can open his mouth he gets insults thrown at him from Johnny and Alejandro. Simon just stares him down. Tough crowd.

“Look will you shut up?” Graves asks holding up a hand to Johnny.

“So you can boast around? No!” Johnny says.

“I’m not here to gloat I have questions.”

“We’ve already done this, move on.” Kyle chimes in.

“Oh for fuck sake,” Graves says, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Where’s y/n?”

The cells go very quiet at the question. Graves looks between the cells and sees confused looks, with a couple holding concern. Anyone who was previously laying down sat up, and any who were sitting made their way to the bars.

“Cameras are off right now.” Graves says quietly.

“The fuck happened pendejo?” Alejandro asks.

“I don’t know.”

“Don’t know much of anything do ya now.” Price comments, arm folded.

“That’s why I’m asking.” Graves says regretting his decision.

“Y/n isn’t one of us, you said it yourself.” Johnny says.

“I am not discussing this matter, I just want to know where they could be.”

“So you came to the seven people in prison?” Kyle questions.

“You didn’t bother talking to Farah first?” John asks.

“Farah was released, she’s innocent.” Graves argues. “I called her, I called Alex, I even called the pub thinking maybe someone there would know, y/n is missing and I don’t know how to find them. Like it or not, I’m the only one able to keep them alive right now.”

The room goes quiet again. You were in constant communication with all of them when they all thought you were on their side. Now you went dark. Price doesn’t like any of this, and hates that Graves might be the only one who can help you. He can’t help but feel this is some ploy to get more names.

“You’re giving us a frozen lake and not telling us how thick the ice is.” Price says. Graves comes up to the bars to meet his gaze and Price is a little surprised reading his expression. Graves is a prideful man, but right now he was desperate. Whether Price liked it or not, something was going on and Graves needed their help.

“Y/n was supposed to come in today, the day before she was asking about MacTavish’s old case file.” Graves lowers his voice. “The arrest was all me, y/n had nothing to do with it. They’ve been working on getting you all out of here.”

“Likely story.” Johnny mutters. He gets a displeased grunt from Simon.

“They got Farah out. She’s with Alex.” Graves exclaims. “I know she met with Ghost one day, but they didn’t go into much detail. I didn’t let them, because right now they are the only ones who can save your asses.”

“We wouldn’t have needed saving if you hadn’t gotten a tip.” Price say, biting back some anger. Graves sighs. “I got orders to make an arrest by Makarov, somehow he caught wind of the tip. Makarov was already on to them, I had talked them up to try and cover them up.”

Johnny stands up from where he was sitting coming over to the bars. “Y/n didn betray us?”

“They’re missing now. I’ve tried calling them and everyone I can think of. Is there anyone else they might be with?” Graves asks. Price didn’t know what to say or think after hearing that though his expression remained stoic. You were on their side, and that night he was pissed off. The arrest made it worse. Now you were trying to fix it all and were in trouble. Graves could also be fucking with all of them.

“Give me one good reason I should trust a word you say.” Price says, his voice low.

“What am I supposed to do to convince you? Open your cells?” Graves says getting right fed up.

“Be a start.” Soap mutters.

“Price… you made the same promise, I know you did. Their safety is important to you.” Graves presses.

“You don’t know shit.” Price argues.

“You’re telling me he told you he had a kid and if they throw themselves to the wolves, sit back and watch the feast?” Graves says, pressing his lips. Price pushes back from the bars pacing. Right now, he was thinking back to that night. The night he found you at the apartment sleeping. The night he recalled everything he knew about your father and the promise he’d made to keep you safe.

“You’re not your father!” He’d said that. You weren’t your father but that didn’t mean you weren’t loyal. Didn’t mean you weren’t trying to do the right thing. You were your own person. You were missing. He wouldn’t lose to Makarov again.

“If you turn on us Graves,” Price warns. Graves eyes tell him everything. He lowers his voice once he gets close to the bars. “Find Nolan. Find Nolan and you’ll find Y/N.”

Graves nods and steps back, raising his voice. “You boys have been great guests. Be sure to include it in my report.”

You’re sitting… you’re waiting… you’re in… so much pain.

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