Just Friends
Word count: 13.7k
Pairing: Johnny Cage x F!Reader
A/N: Wowee, I am pretty proud of this one ngl! I hope you all enjoy it!!! This idea has been rotating in my brain for a couple weeks now, so I’m pretty stoked to have finished it <33
Summary: When your one-year anniversary raises red flags about your boyfriend you missed, Johnny helps you deal with the fall out in a delicious way, and then he ghosts you. When you find out why, you think his reason sucks but he makes it up to you… kind of.
Warnings: 18+ only, smut, angst (only little bit), virgin!Reader, age gap, reader is in her 20s, fingering, grinding, cum eating, spit swallowing (once), stalking (not by Johnny or reader), minor violence, name calling (not by Johnny or reader), no use of y/n
This isn’t where you would ideally be spending your time, in general you don’t club often but especially not for special occasions, which you classify this as one. You’re meant to be celebrating your one-year anniversary with your boyfriend, he had promised you a romantic evening but instead he surprised you with clubbing. Which, naturally you had no idea was happening, so not only are you not dressed for clubbing but you also are not in the mood to be here.
He's gone off to the dance floor and you’re just sat here by the bar watching him dance and get drunk. It’s uncomfortable for you, you’re dressed up in a nicer dress than what this place warrants and it’s getting the attention of the men around you, attention you really don’t want.
Unfortunately, it looks like your boyfriend is enjoying the attention of the other girls around him, he’s just now engaged in a bump and grind with a girl you both don’t know. This is ridiculous, he knows you can see him right? You’re getting huffy, but when he leans down and whispers in her ear is when you get pissed.
Getting up, you stomp over to him and grab him to get his attention, when he looks at you, he’s none too pleased. Like you weren’t the one watching him flirt with another girl on your one-year anniversary. A whole year with this man and he can’t give you the courtesy of paying you attention and not flirting with other girls. Ridiculous.
Your expression is twisted in anger, “What the hell are you doing?”
“What’s your problem?” He asks, his own expression irritated.
Your eyes become large, shaking your head at him, “My problem is you; you’re flirting with other girls right in front of me! On our anniversary!”
He blows you off and deflects the blame back on you, “Like you care, you have that weird relationship with that old actor dude!”
Of course, he brings up Johnny right now, you roll your eyes at him, “Johnny is just a friend! You know that.”
And he does, you’ve known Johnny for years, or at least your family has, you got closer to him a few years ago when you moved to California. He’s been really kind to you and was the only friend you had here for a while, even though he’s all famous and busy.
He gets in your face and yells at you, “Yeah right, you’re probably fucking him! You won’t fuck me but you’ll fuck him! Is that it?! GOD you are such a whore!” You can smell the alcohol on his breath with how close he is.
This is the first time he’s explicitly said what he’s been implying for months, he’s been so weird about this for a long time, you haven’t had sex with him, or anyone for that matter. And it upsets you when he implies otherwise. His blunt accusation has your eyes welling up with tears.
His shoulders drop and his eyes roll, groaning as he says, “Oh, don’t start that! You are such a gaslighter!”
“We are over, don’t call me, don’t come to my apartment, we are broken up,” you spit it out with as much venom as you can muster.
Turning from him, you get out of there as quickly as possible, hearing him continue to berate you faintly as you leave. The tears from earlier start to fall down your cheeks as you hail a cab, tonight is not what you wanted it to be at all.
This has been an awful experience, and if you were honest with yourself, you’d recognise your relationship had red flags the whole time. You had mostly overlooked it because you wanted it to work so badly but he was mean, pushy, didn’t respect you or your boundaries, he was even prone to violent outbursts, he never hit you but you have a sizable hole in your bedroom wall from the one time he got especially annoyed at you.
These are all things you had kept from Johnny and even then, Johnny had expressed concerns about your now ex-boyfriend, he never overstepped but he very gently told you that he thought he was a freak.
You won’t deny that you like Johnny, you’re attracted to him but it’s not like it’s something you could actively pursue or have even thought about pursuing. He’s older than you and probably wouldn’t look at you the same way you look at him. And even if he did, you can’t think of anything worse than a cheater, you would never want to be cheated on, so you would never cheat on someone. Even if they suck.
Sitting in the cab, you’re forced to reflect on all of this. You wish you’d had a few drinks; a buzz would probably make it easier to sleep tonight. The shock of it all has you most upset because when you search deep down you aren’t even sad about losing him, you’re sad about all the time you wasted on him. All the time you spent trying to make it work with a man who, frankly, didn’t and doesn’t deserve you.
When you get back home, you’re immediately showering the club off of your skin and crawling into bed. What you want most right now is for this awful night to be over, so you curl up in a little ball and hug your pillow to your chest for comfort.
✰ ✰ ✰
A heavy-handed banging at your door frightens you awake; you shoot up in your spot. It’s your ex banging on your door and yelling at you, grabbing your phone you quickly look at the time. It’s currently nine in the morning, he cannot be sober yet.
You walk through your apartment and drop your phone on your kitchen counter before tentatively walking towards the door. His loud banging stops and he knocks again gently, calling your name softly. You don’t want to open the door but you’re worried about your neighbours, one thing about him is that he is as stubborn as a mule.
Opening the door only a bit, you ask him, “What do you want?”
“Fucking finally, let me in,” his voice is angry and he’s pushing the door open more.
You try to keep him back, “You can’t come in.”
He keeps pushing at the door, eventually swinging it open the whole way, “I can do what I want,” his voice raises.
He goes to move inside your apartment and you push him back, his eyes glower at you, he’s scaring you.
“We are broken up, and I don’t want you in my house,” you say, standing your ground.
“We are not broken up; I didn’t agree to that!” he argues, voice getting louder in his anger.
His demeanour is scaring you, the last time he looked like this was when he punched that hole in your wall.
But you are not caving on this, “That isn’t how it works, we are over!”
He puts his hands on you and his grip digs into your skin, hurting you, but you move automatically and punch him square in the nose. His head flies back, he’s groaning out in pain and grabbing his nose. You take advantage of his balance being thrown off and push him out of the threshold of your apartment, he stumbles back and you’re slamming the door shut, locking it again.
“What the fuck! You stupid bitch! Let ME IN!!” His banging gets more forceful, it sounds like he might be kicking the door too.
You’re shaking at what just happened, you’ve never had to punch someone before. Sadly, it didn’t do enough damage to have him leaving, he’s still there and you have a feeling he isn’t going away.
There’s a sudden ringing from behind you, it makes you jump on the spot. Your heart racing as you realise it’s just your phone from the kitchen, you walk over to it, behind you the banging has slowed a bit but you can tell he’s still out there.
Checking your phone screen, you see it’s Johnny is calling, just your luck. If you don’t pick up now, he’ll just keep calling you. He knows you were meant to go on your date last night and you didn’t message him when you got home. He’s always checking in on you, making sure you’re safe but you don’t really want him hearing what’s happening, so you walk into the hallway and answer. Thankful for the moment of quiet outside your door.
“Hello?” You ask.
“Good morning, doll,” he sounds chipper.
“…Good morning,” your voice is wavering despite your efforts to sound normal.
You can practically feel his frown through the phone, “Are you okay?”
“Yup,” you’re trying to keep your answers short.
The banging on your door picks up again, he’s getting louder and yelling, because of course he is.
“What is that?” Johnny questions.
“…Nothing?”
He pauses, you imagine listening to the background noises, “It sounds like someone’s trying to break in.”
“No, it doesn’t,” you deny.
The banging continues at your door, your exes voice yelling, “Let me the fuck in!! God you’re such a fucking bit–”
“–I’m coming over.” He states, hanging up hastily, leaving no room for arguments.
Great, now you have to face the embarrassment of telling Johnny how awful your ex is and is apparently unwilling to let go of you even though he was flirting with and grinding into another girl right in front of you. You’d rather deal with the cops. Sighing, you grab your bat by the front door and crouch next to it, waiting for Johnny to get here. At least your ex will go away when he gets here.
It doesn’t take Johnny long to arrive at all, which is suspicious, he probably sped. You only know he’s here because you can hear the way your ex gets angry at him.
“Cage, Of course she called you,” he says to Johnny, disdain clear in his voice.
It’s the last thing you hear clearly, whatever Johnny says to him is low but apparently threatening enough to have your ex leaving, not before he yells at you one last time though.
“THIS ISNT OVER!” He yells out for you to hear.
“Yes it is, get the fuck outta here,” you hear Johnny clearer this time, he’d raised his voice at him slightly.
Johnny doesn’t knock, instead using the key you gave him to unlock your door. When he walks inside, he looks around quickly for you, not seeing you until he turns around to lock the door. His eyes widen at your small, crouched form in the corner by the front door, holding a bat with a sock on it.
“Jesus, sugar, what are you doing there?” His hand lands on his chest in mild shock.
“In case he got the door down,” you murmur at him.
He locks the door properly before giving you his hand, helping you up.
His brow raises, “What’s the sock for?”
“In case he tried grabbing it, he’d pull the sock off and I’d still have a bat,” you move the sock up and down the bat, demonstrating the slide.
He reaches out and you hand the bat to him, “Sit over there.” He points at your breakfast barstools.
You do as he says and shuffle over to the stool, sitting down on it. He puts the bat in your umbrella stand by the front door. Walking back over to you, he stands between your legs and holds either side of your face, checking you over.
“You okay?” He asks very softly; concern clear on his face.
You nod at him, “Yeah, Mm okay.”
His eyes are still looking you over, “I saw his nose was bleeding, you hit him?”
You nod again and he smiles at you, “Nice, you square your shoulders?”
“I think so,” you’re not sure, it happened pretty quick, the reaction more of a survival thing than a planned attack.
He hums and looks to your upper arms, “He grabbed you?” His hands gently run down your arms.
“Yeah, then I hit him,” you tell him, looking at your arms where he was looking. The skin where your ex had grabbed is irritated, it might bruise.
Johnny’s face is pulled into a scowl, “I should’ve hit him too, fucken dick.”
You shake your head at him, “I just wanted him gone.”
“I never liked him,” he continues.
“I know.”
“If he shows up again, I am hitting him,” his face still scowling.
You shake your head at him again, “Don’t do that.”
“Why not?” He looks into your eyes again; his hands leave you.
“Johnny, you’re not just some guy, you’re famous, if it got out that you hit someone it’d be a whole thing. It could ruin your reputation.”
He rolls his eyes at your concern, “Don’t really care about all that, doll.”
Your expression is doubtful, “Yes you do.”
“It’d be worth it, that guy sucks,” he maintains.
“Johnny?”
He hums at you in response.
“Can you… stay for a bit?” You ask softly, cringing at how pathetic you sound.
“Of course, you aren’t getting rid of me that quickly,” his smile is soft and you give him your own in return.
Getting up off the stool, you walk around into the kitchen, grabbing two mugs out for some coffee.
“You can go sit on the couch while I make some coffee,” you tell him with your back facing him.
He hums a little mindlessly before wandering over to your living room and getting comfortable.
After the coffee is made, you carefully walk to him, you’re watching the mugs and your feet as you walk. Carrying full cups has always stressed you out, you always manage to spill and you’d really rather not have to clean up a mess right now.
Thankfully, you successfully make it to Johnny without spilling anything, “Here you go,” you smile and hand him his mug.
“Thanks, sugar,” he takes it from you, sips at it and places it on the coffee table in front of him.
You sit beside him and silently sip at your coffee, enjoying the warmth of it, the flavour. You think a good cup of coffee could fix just about anything for you.
Johnny watches you sip at your mug, “What exactly happened, doll and why didn’t you call me?”
Yeah, you were expecting him to ask sooner or later, you were just hoping it’d be later.
Sighing, you place your mug next to his, “I didn’t call you because it’s embarrassing, you were right about him and I wanted to handle it on my own, I don’t need everything fixed for me.” You don’t look at him as you speak.
“I know that, you’re an adult but this was an angry, grown man, trying to beat down your door. And sometimes you might not need my help but you can always have me next to you, if it makes it easier.” His words are spoken soothingly, he’s always so gentle with you.
You can’t lie, you did have a crush on him for a long time, but then you met your ex and you didn’t let those feelings cloud your mind, you pushed them away. But just like how you push them away, Johnny’s actions and words push them back. He’s a difficult man to dislike.
“Thank you,” you mumble.
He asks again, “What exactly happened, it was supposed to be your anniversary wasn’t it?”
“He ‘surprised’ me by taking me out clubbing, which was already bad but I was uncomfortable and left at the bar alone while he danced and flirted with other girls.” You recount.
“What the fuck?” His voice is filled with displeasure.
“Mhm and then he was whispering to this one girl and I got annoyed, so I went over to confront him but he brought up y– … he said some mean things to me and about me… he – he made me cry and I broke up with him on the spot.” You leave out what he brought up about Johnny, not wanting to make him uncomfortable.
“How’d you get home?” He asks.
“Took a cab.” You state simply.
“And he just let you? Let you leave and get in a cab, crying, by yourself, in the middle of the night?” He clarifies.
You nod your head at him.
Groaning as he says, “I really should’ve hit him.” He pauses, “Why didn’t you call me?”
You look back to him again, “It was late and I didn’t want to bother you, or explain what happened, I just wanted to get home and get into bed.”
“You never bother me, sugar,” his eyes are compassionate as he looks at you.
Looking at him is intense for you, like if you look at him for too long, you’ll get hypnotised by him. So, you look away, back to your mug on the table.
He moves closer to you and puts a hand on your cheek, pulling your face to look at him, “If anything happens to upset you, and I mean anything, call me, okay?” He stresses on the anything, making sure you understand.
You avert his gaze, “I will call you, if something bad happens.”
He moves his face so he can catch your eyes with his, making you look at him again, “Say again.”
“I will call you, next time.” You reconfirm.
“Very good,” his praise does things to you that you wish it didn’t.
He still holds your face, looking at you, his thumb strokes your cheekbone softly. As his hand slips away from your face, his thumb pulls your lip down with it, before he pulls his hand away completely. His eyes locked onto your lips, gaze seemingly far away.
“Johnny?”
He hums, coming back to himself and looking you in the eyes, “Your pjs are very cute.” He changes the topic.
You grow bashful, you’re wearing a matching set, they’re frilly and have bows, and you like them because not only are they really cute, they’re also comfy. Johnny mentioning them throws you off, you completely forgot you were wearing pyjamas.
His smile is cheeky as he watches you grow shy, “What’s wrong?” He asks, taunting.
“You know what you did,” you pout.
He enjoys flirting with you because of how nervous it makes you. He finds it endearing but you find it annoying, which is another reason as to why he keeps doing it.
He hums happily, pleased with himself, “Cute.” It’s all he says in response.
You scowl at him.
He pinches your cheek, pulling at it.
You slap his hand away, “Stop it, that hurts.”
He smiles innocently at you; he goes to say something but his phone rings in his pocket. He pulls it out and looks at it, and then he rolls his eyes, he doesn’t pick it up though.
“Aren’t you gonna answer?” You ask.
“Nah, gonna let it ring out, I do have to go though, I’m late,” his reply nonchalant.
Expression concerned you say, “Johnny! Leave if you’re late, you didn’t need to be wasting time here.”
“I didn’t waste my time, you’re important.” His face firm as he speaks.
You huff at him, “Get out, right now.” Your tone is urgent.
“You’re pretty when you’re bossy,” he teases.
Eyes widening at him, “Johnny!” You exasperate.
“Okay, okay, I’m going,” he placates.
You walk him over to the door. Both of you standing there, you’re waiting for him to open it and leave but he turns around to look at you and pulls you in for a hug. You return it, appreciating the familiarity of him, you nuzzle your face into the fabric of his shirt and he holds you firmly.
His mouth rests against the crown of your head and speaks into your hair, “If he comes back, call me, okay?”
“Okay,” you mumble into his chest.
He pulls you away by your shoulders and then he leans down to kiss your cheek affectionately. The action makes your skin warm; he doesn’t pull away though, lips skating across your face and ghosting your lips, the minimal contact makes you gasp and your heart skip a beat.
He pulls away suddenly, “I’ll talk to you later.” He says hurriedly, opening your door.
“Have a good day,” you manage to say, almost normally.
He hums a noise of agreeance and then he’s gone.
After he leaves, you lock the door, and then your fingers skate over your lips, thinking about how he almost kissed you. The thought makes your heartbeat faster, he’s never showed interest in you before, at least, you don’t think he has.
Why did he do that? Did it mean anything? Was it an accident? You have so many questions that will undoubtably linger in the back of your head for the whole day, if not life.
✰ ✰ ✰
The rest of your day is spent cleaning up your messes made during the week, tomorrow you have a shift at work so today is really the only day you have to be able to pick up after yourself properly. It feels so incredibly mundane compared to what you went through last night and this morning. The fear of you ex coming back loiters in the back of your head the whole time you’re shuffling around your apartment.
It's earlier in the evening when you finally get to sit down, having completed your list of chores, along with showering and eating dinner. You feel quite proud of yourself for doing so much, you didn’t go grocery shopping like you had planned but you think for now, what you have done is more than enough. Leaving your apartment right now is a scary thought, he could be waiting for you outside the building, or around the street corner. You’re overthinking it but it is also very possible, he was terrifying this morning. It shocks you thinking about how he was in your life for so long and you hadn’t noticed anything bad enough to break up with him sooner.
A knock on your door brings you back from your thoughts, you’re apprehensive about answering the door, you aren’t expecting anyone. The person knocks again and your stomach drops, it’s him.
“Go away,” you call out.
“Just let me in, Jesus – talk to me,” your ex is irritable.
You get up and move closer to the door before saying, “You lost your right to talk to me last night.”
“You’re being such a bitch,” he says.
“I’ll call Johnny,” you try threatening.
“Oooo, I’m so scared of some old guy,” he feigns fear, but you know better, he is scared of Johnny.
You walk into the lounge room and pick up your phone, calling him.
His phone only rings a couple times before he picks up, “Hey, doll. You okay?”
From the door you can hear your ex call out to you, “Are you actually calling him?”
Johnny hears him too, “Is he back already?”
“Yeah… Sorry,” you feel bad calling him again so soon.
“Don’t apologise, I told you to call if he came back, you did good by calling me,” he says, his praise making you feel some type of way.
“I’ll be there soon, don’t talk to him,” he directs.
“I’ll see you soon,” you tell him before hanging up.
You grab your bat and hang out in the kitchen, hiding below the counters and watching the front door. Your ex doesn’t speak again, he doesn’t even knock and you briefly wonder if he left.
The wait doesn’t take long, and you know it’s Johnny when you hear the key turn in the lock. He enters the apartment and you pop up from behind the kitchen counters, still holding your bat. He shakes his head at you, amused at the sight of you appearing from nowhere.
Turning around he makes sure to lock the door and walks to you in the kitchen, “You okay, sugar?”
“You’re always asking me that,” you comment.
“I always want you to be okay,” he retorts.
You smile at him, “I’m okay.”
“Good,” he nods his head to the door, “He wasn’t out there.”
“I thought so, I think he heard me on the phone to you.” Your ex must’ve been too scared to face Johnny again, whatever threat he gave working, for now.
“Pussy,” Johnny insults him, it has you laughing lightly. “He really doesn’t like me, do you know why, doll? He ever tell you?” He’s curious.
You hum and look away from him, “No idea.”
“You’re lying.”
“How insulting, I have never lied to you,” you’re looking back at him, trying your best to look innocent.
Both his brows raise at you, “Not from lack of trying.”
You squint your eyes at him, “I am a good girl, I don’t lie, smoke, drink, party… so on and so forth,” you’re being facetious.
“Yes, you are a very good girl, so tell me the truth, mmm?” He practically purrs at you, with the way he spoke to you and how he’s looking at you right now, you’d tell him anything he wanted to know.
“Okay, so maybe I do know why he dislikes you,” you cave but can you be blamed?
He raises a single brow at you, encouraging you to continue.
Fiddling with your hands, you’re hesitant to tell him, “Mmm, so maybe he thinks that we’ve been… hooking up.”
“What?” His eyes are wide.
“He accused me of sleeping with you… which I assured him was not the case and that we’re just friends… but he didn’t believe me, and maybe he called me a whore for sleeping with you and not him…” you can’t look him in the eyes right now.
“I don’t even know where to start,” his expression is confused. “I want to injure him… badly, for calling you a whore,” he starts, his eyes burning.
“I just want him to leave me alone,” you murmur.
“If I break his legs he’ll have to leave you alone for three… to six months, depending on where I break him,” he remarks.
You shake your head at him, sighing.
He continues, “He’s a dumbass for accusing you of sleeping with me,” he pinches the bridge of his nose.
“Are you done?” You ask.
“I have one more question, and since you’re such a good girl, you’re going to answer it without tip toeing around it,” his tone only a little bit teasing.
You look sceptical, trying to save face you say, “Maybe.”
“Why would he think you’re sleeping with me and not him,” he asks.
You avert his gaze quickly, “Well… you see, that’s a bit more complicated.”
“How?” He’s direct.
“So…” You trail off.
“No, don’t do that, don’t skirt around your answer… and look at me,” his tone absolute.
You look back to him, your eyes worried, “I’ve not slept with him… or anyone for that matter… as for why he thinks I’m sleeping with you, probably insecurity,” you shrug your shoulders at him.
Johnny looks surprised by your confession, whatever he was expecting you to say, it wasn’t that.
“You’re a virgin?” He clarifies.
You nod your head at him, “Yes…”
“Well shit, sugar, I didn’t mean to make you tell me something that private.” He feels bad.
“It’s not private, I’m not ashamed or anything, I just haven’t wanted to sleep with the men I’ve dated.” Which is true, you’ve been attracted to them, you just haven’t desired them enough to let them have you completely.
“I just feel like whoever I do sleep with, I should crave their touch, and I haven’t… felt that way about the men I’ve dated,” you’ve only wanted one person that way and he’s standing in front of you. Much to your dismay.
“So, your idiot little ex, has somehow got it in his head that you want me?” He asks, big smile on his face.
Frowning, you say, “Don’t look so proud of yourself.”
“Sorry doll, trying not to be but it’s a bit of an ego boost,” he chuckles.
“Like you need one,” you quip. Undeniably though, his confidence is something that makes you feel hot and bothered.
He smiles at you devilishly, going to say something before there’s a knock on your door.
Johnny groans, “Does he not give up or what?”
Another, harsher knock.
“That’s it, I’m kicking his ass,” he starts walking to the front door.
You jog to get in front of him, “No, Johnny, you can’t.”
“I’m fairly certain I can,” he huffs but he stops walking.
You give him a pointed look, “your career?”
“Didn’t I tell you earlier today that I don’t care?”
“I care,” you give him your softest eyes, begging with him not to resort to violence.
He groans in annoyance at how well it works on him, “Arghh, fine.”
“Thank–”
“–But, you should moan so he thinks we’re fucking,” he says, smiling like he’s come up with some master plan.
It’s embarrassing to admit to him but, “I don’t… know what I’d sound like.”
“Never even touched yourself, doll?” His question makes your face feel hot. His bluntness a lot for you, it makes you feel fuzzy.
“I have… I just never really made any noises,” you answer him hesitantly.
Looking at Johnny, he has a very serious look on his face, eyes dark. You only see it for a second before he’s smiling sweetly at you, “Bet you make the cutest sounds,” he teases.
He stalks towards you and you walk backwards, you end up with your back against the wall by the door. Johnny has caged you in against it, one of his hands resting on the wall beside your head.
His voice is low, “Wanna find out?”
You look up at him, “Find out what?”
More loud knocking comes out from beside you, your ex still there, still refusing to leave, “I am not going anywhere!” He calls out.
You turn your head to look at the door, but Johnny’s hand pulls your face back to his, “Keep your eyes on me and answer my question, sugar.”
“What was your question?” You don’t remember.
His fingers play with the strap of your pyjama shirt, “Wanna find out how you sound?”
“What?”
He tuts, “Simple yes or no, sweetness.”
The skin of his fingers brushing against your shoulder has a shudder threatening to run down your spine, he’s arousing you and you don’t feel sure in a lot of things but you feel pretty damn sure in yourself as you say.
“Yes.”
He grins, pleased with your answer, “Can’t hold back, gotta let yourself make noise, okay?”
Nodding your head, you agree.
“Perfect.”
His hand that was playing with your shirt slips down to your hip, holding you there before asking, “Are you wet?”
Your thighs involuntarily clench at his question, “Yeah.”
“What from,” he presses you for more answers.
His hand slips under your sleep shorts but not into your panties, his two middle fingers massage your pussy over your underwear, he can feel the wet patch on the front of them that had formed. Your mind drifts, losing yourself in his light touch.
“Gotta answer, sugar.” He reminds you.
You bring your focus back to his words, “From you…”
“What about me?” His pointer and ring fingers spread your folds through your panties, wet noises resulting from the action, “Fffuck, listen to how wet you are.”
You want to shrink in on yourself, his brazen words embarrassingly hot. His middle finger pets at your clit gently, the stimulation makes you gasp and one of your hands grabs at the wrist of the hand he has on the wall beside your head, the other resting flat against the wall.
“C’mon doll, pay attention,” he chastises.
“The way you – ngh – talk to me,” you confess maybe a little too easily.
“What specifically?” He’s too curious for someone touching you in a way that makes it difficult for coherent thought.
His middle finger is still gently grazing your clit, never straying, the stimulation making you so wet. Your panties no doubt ruined under his ministrations.
“Your voice, your praise, nicknames – hah, jus like the way you talk to me,” you feel breathless.
“Mmm, like being praised? Told what to do?” He asks in a mocking manner.
You’re lacking any critical thinking skills right now though, because you normally wouldn’t feed his ego so much, “By you, yes.”
“Fuck sugar,” he curses, your honesty getting to him.
His finger still stroking you over your underwear, your hips twitching in response to it. He hums at you, enjoying how much you’re squirming below him.
“Johnny,” you call to him, his name coming out whiny.
His response is far away, “Mmm?” he doesn’t look up to you, instead he pulls your shorts all the way down, wanting to watch the way he plays with your clit over your panties.
He adds more pressure to the finger stroking you, the feeling making you gasp, an almost moan slipping from you. Without realising, you hold it back and it comes out strangled.
“Not supposed to hold back, doll.” He reminds you quickly.
But you’re still conscious of your ex lingering in your hallway, something that Johnny is also aware of, which is why he wants you to be louder. He decides to pulls your panties down, removing his fingers from your pussy to do so.
The loss of contact has a whimper exiting you and Johnny chuckles at the sound.
“Needy aren’t ya?” He hums at you, amused.
You huff at him, not really appreciating the teasing.
His fingers move back to your pussy, sliding through your very wet cunt, spreading your slick around, his chest rumbling with a growl at how wet you are. Your thighs are wet and your whole lower half is slippery. The teasing he’s put you through too much, you’re beyond horny and you really just need him to touch you.
You look up at him, eyes big and wet, pleading with him to touch you properly without asking aloud.
The hand by your head moves to cup the side of your face, his smile is large as he looks at you. Enjoying the way you’re falling apart in the palm of his hand. He shows you pity though, and his finger slips to your pussy hole, gently pushing into you. Your cunt spasms lightly around it and he sighs a groan at the feeling.
“Damn sugar, you’re… fucken soaked,” he comments.
You don’t reply to him, you can’t, too lost in the feeling of his large finger carefully pushing into you. The hand he has on your face still holding you, making you look at him. His thumb pulls your bottom lip down, his eyes mesmerised by your expression. You have a soft and needy look on your face, eyelids low, your breaths whiny. He’s enamoured by you, getting lost for a moment.
But he remembers himself and removes his hand from your face, instead holding your hip, your back arching off the wall slightly. He pushes his finger in the rest of the way, stroking against your walls, his thumb rubbing circles into your clit.
Your breaths turn into whimpers and as he pulls his finger in and out, you moan in response, the feeling overwhelming. Your hips are writhing in his grip, and your head is thrown back on the wall, moans growing louder.
He holds your hips steady, gaze flicking between the way your cunt is sucking his finger in and the fucked-out expression you’re wearing on your face. Your chest rising and falling quickly with your breaths.
For the first time in a while, he’s lost for words, he doesn’t even want to say anything. Just wants to push you over the edge, have you moaning and writhing against the wall for him. He’s painfully hard and ignoring it, but his dick twitches every time your cunt tightens or moans get louder.
“WHAT THE FUCK?!” Your ex pounds on the door, “WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!”
You had forgotten about him, too lost in your own pleasure. You squeak at his yelling and bite your lip.
“Don’t you fucken dare, need you to keep making those noises, sugar,” Johnny’s thumb tugs your lip free of your teeth.
The pounding beside your head gets louder, your ex yelling belligerently at the two of you, cursing Johnny out.
“She has the tightest little cunt!” Johnny calls out to your ex, just to piss him off further.
“Johnny,” you try admonishing him but his name borders on a whimper. The feeling of his finger moving in and out of you affecting you. Your moans are barely contained.
Your ex smacks the door harshly once before yelling at the two of you, “I FUCKING KNEW IT!”
He murmurs curses, calling you names and yelling about how he was right the whole time, before you hear his stomping feet walk away. Seemingly leaving.
Briefly you wonder if Johnny will stop touching you now that your ex has left but if anything, his pace increases, his finger fucking into you quickly, thumb circling your clit firmly. Your moans spill from you, breaking off into whimpers. Johnny has a feral look on his face as he watches his finger fuck into you.
The wet sounds of your pussy getting louder with his increase in speed. His hand on your hip again, keeping you still. His forehead leans forward and rests against yours, you can’t help but watch his lips, wanting him to kiss you.
He’s busy watching your cunt, “Fuck, sugar, really do have the tightest pussy.” You shudder at his words and he continues talking, “Fucken, messy too.”
Your hands claw at the wall behind you, trying to brace yourself against something sturdy.
“Can I add another?” He asks, wanting to stuff you full of his fingers.
“Please,” it’s a desperate sound that escapes you.
His middle finger pulls out to add his ring finger alongside it, both pressing into you gently, not getting far with how tight you are. The width of them stretching you open, burning slightly. His thumb keeps rubbing at your clit, trying to ease the stretch.
“Relax, doll,” he directs.
Taking a deep breath in, you relax slightly and Johnny takes advantage of it, slipping his fingers into you completely.
A keening whine pulls from you at being full of his large fingers.
“Thas it, such a good girl for me,” he groans out at you.
Your pussy clenches down on his fingers at his praise and a soft moan escapes from him, his composure slipping for a moment. If you had your wits about you, you’d notice how his own eyes look a little fucked out, that he’s worked himself up so much just from finger fucking you.
His hand on your hip grips you tighter, grounding himself. Both his fingers fucking into you in earnest, determined to have you cumming on them. His pace picking up to what it was previously, your walls clinging to him desperately. His own breathing is coming quick.
You’re teetering on the edge of something beautiful, “Feels like too much,” you whine at him.
“It’s meant to feel like that,” he coos at you, pity in his voice.
His fingers are persistent and so big and your cunt is fluttering around him with how close you are. Your eyes close, eyebrows knitting together against the pleasure. You feel something brush against your lips, so softly, that you think you imagine it.
Johnny removes his hand on your hip, grabbing your face again. Thumb coming up to your mouth and pushing inside it, you take it, wrapping your lips around it and sucking. He groans at the sight and feel of your warm, wet mouth. He pushes his thumb down onto your tongue, you’re salivating against it, drooling slightly.
The pleasure he’s giving you is so much, from never being touched by someone like this to being touched by someone whose touch feels like he’s attempting to pull you apart from the very depths of your being, is an insane jump. His presence alone crushes you; this is a completely new experience.
Your cunt pulses around his fingers, your moans muffled around his thumb. Johnny’s eyes drop from your face and look down between you both, watching your pussy, again. Infatuated with how you’re taking his fingers.
“C’mon doll, can feel you, you’re so fucken close,” his voice is strained as he talks.
But his voice is devastating to you, the gruffness of it sends you over the edge, your hands paw at his chest, needing something to hold onto. His thumb removes itself from your mouth, grabbing one of your hands instead and interlocking fingers with you.
Your hips grind down into his hand, riding out your high, moans tumbling from your lips as you throw your head back, his name mixed in with your moans. Distantly, you can hear Johnny moan at your orgasm, delighted by the state of you. Your breathing is harsh, chest moving quickly, you feel far away from your body. Hearing poor with how the blood is rushing through your head.
Johnny pulls his fingers from you carefully, you’re watching him through dazed eyes, slumped against the wall. His own eyes looking at his fingers and the way they’re soaked in your slick and cum. He shocks you when he licks them clean before putting them in his mouth, sucking you off them. He hums around his own fingers at the taste of you.
The display is obscene and has a small whimper being pulled from your chest. He pulls his fingers out of his mouth, keeping eye contact with you. His heated look making you squirm a bit.
He shoots you a charming smile, “I was right, you do make cute sounds.”
You cover your face with your hands, wanting to escape his penetrating gaze.
Johnny locates your shorts and helps put them back on you, he kisses the top of your head, “I got carried away, doll. I’m sorry.”
Pulling your hands away, you look at him. He’s wearing a troubled expression, disappointed in himself, seemingly, out of nowhere.
“It’s okay.” You assure him.
He shakes his head, “No it’s not, I should’ve known better, I’m older than you. Shouldn’t have done this.”
You’re getting a bit annoyed, you’re an adult and you told him yes when he asked, “Johnny, I agreed.” You try reminding him.
“Doesn’t matter, should’ve controlled myself.” He’s getting hung up on his morals, frustrated in his actions tonight.
“I could’ve stopped you if I didn’t want it,” you push.
He looks at you dubiously, something telling you that his internal struggle is deeper than what he’s sharing with you.
“I should go, doll. I am so sorry.” He apologises again, but there isn’t anything he needs to apologise for.
He doesn’t touch you as he leaves, he looks like he wants to, but he doesn’t. Instead, he rushes out the door, not letting you argue with him any further. You hear him lock the door with his key as he leaves.
You’re left leaning against the wall, shell shocked as to what the hell just happened. He gave you your first and best orgasm and then left suddenly. Acting like he’s committed some kind of crime.
Calling him doesn’t work, he won’t pick up and he hasn’t replied to any of your texts. You don’t think he realises that he hadn’t fucked up before but he certainly has now, because what the fuck???
✰ ✰ ✰
By the next morning, Johnny still hasn’t replied and you have to go to work. You’re extra cautious as you leave your apartment, anxious about your ex possibly approaching you. Luckily he isn’t anywhere to be seen and you make it to work with no issues. Though, you did feel like somebody was watching you for a bit, you chalk it up to your nerves. The past few days not really doing great things for your psyche.
Your shift is a long one, gruelling. The whole day you’re thinking about your ex harassing you all day yesterday and when you finally think about something else, it’s about how Johnny is ghosting you.
On your break you try messaging him again, telling him it’s fine and if he regrets it that much to just forget about it. You aren’t going to be clingy and make him marry you or something now, if you knew how this would end, you wouldn’t have said yes. You don’t regret what happened but you will if you lose him as a friend over it. You want to convey that to him but you aren’t the best at communicating your feelings, things come out wrong and weird in your desperation to explain your thoughts.
So, you settle for sending him a text that boils down to ‘if you regret it, we can just forget it. I’m not mad at you’. Though, you feel like that might bite you in the ass later.
When your shift is finally over, you don’t want to go home. A bad feeling consuming your whole body, worried about what you might come face to face with. Worried you might run into your ex on the way back. You’d appreciate having one of your work friends walk you back but you don’t know any of them well enough to ask, and you don’t wanna call Johnny right now, not that he’d pick up anyways.
The walk back is tense, you’re on edge and when you get to your apartment, you realise you were right to be so. Your apartment door has a hole in it where it’s been kicked in, picking up your phone, you call Johnny but of course he’s still avoiding you. So, you leave a message for him and instead call the cops.
You wait for them to arrive; it doesn’t take them long but they weren’t quick about it either. They check it out for you, making sure it’s empty and when they confirm that it is, they tell you so. You walk into your apartment and they ask you a few questions.
You tell them, “I know who did it, it was my ex, he harassed me all day yesterday.”
“Did you report him?” One of them asks.
“Not at the time, but I didn’t think he’d do this,” you raise your hands, gesturing to your ransacked apartment.
“We can’t do much without actual proof, next time you’ll just have to hope to catch him in the act.” The other says.
“We will keep record of this, but yeah, unless you get actual evidence, we can’t do anything about him,” The first one adds.
You could definitely question him, you think.
This is why you didn’t want to deal with the cops in the first place, they never give a shit about things like this until someone is dead.
“Yeah thanks, I’ll be sure to prioritise that next time,” you tone is facetious but you can’t help it, your home has been broken into and possibly robbed and they couldn’t give less of a fuck.
They ignore your attitude, “If you find that some of your items are missing, report it, we’ve got another call to go on, stay safe.” And then they’re both leaving you there, in your messed up apartment.
The place you’re meant to feel safe has been broken into by someone you had dated for a year, someone you used to trust and now you’re just left here. Knowing that he’s still out there and could come back whenever he wants, they didn’t even ask for his name. What are you meant to do? Where are you meant to go? Cause there is no way in hell that you’re staying here.
You’ll have to look for hotels in the area, you’ve only made a few friends here and most of them are campus living. Also, you’d prefer people didn’t know about this. You’re feeling incredibly vulnerable and alone at the moment.
Looking around the room, you see that heaps of your breakables have been chucked around, he broke your tv, some of your favourite mugs, a framed picture of you and Johnny. He’s made holes in some of the walls and flipped over furniture.
Sighing, you go to check your room, and sadly, it didn’t fare any better, it looks like he cut open your mattress and tore up some of your clothes. A lamp broken and on the floor. Right after you just cleaned up the day before too, ironic.
You hear the sound of shuffling in the entryway, stuff being walked into, it makes you freeze in your spot. The footsteps become frantic, walking quickly around your apartment before heading towards where you are at the end of the hall in your bedroom. There isn’t anything you can grab as self-defence, but it’s okay because you see when he enters the room that it’s just Johnny. He was the one stomping around quickly, worried about you.
“Oh my God, why didn’t you pick up the phone, been calling you.” He stresses as he walks up to you, pulling you into his embrace.
You don’t hug him back, annoyed at him, but he doesn’t stop hugging you anyways.
“I put my phone down in the lounge room, didn’t think you were gonna call.” You weren’t expecting him to come, you weren’t even expecting him to check his texts from you, let alone a voicemail.
He huffs, agitated with himself, because yeah this is on him, “I’m sorry, I’ll always come when you call.”
“I called you first,” your voice shakes, tears threatening to fall.
“I’m sorry,” he repeats.
A tear slips down your cheek, “Don’t want you to be sorry, wanted you to be here.”
“I know, doll, I–” You think he was going to apologise again but cuts himself off, “What happened?” He still hasn’t let you go, and you still won’t hug him back.
“Came home from work, saw my door had been kicked in so I called you, you didn’t answer, so I called the cops.” You detail.
He asks, “What did they say?”
“They can’t do anything to him without proof,” you’re crying now, remembering just how unhelpful they were.
He pulls back to look at you, his thumb wiping away your tears, his hands holding your face gently, “What do you mean?”
“That’s what they said, they can’t do anything without evidence. This will be kept on record but because I have no proof, they can’t do anything about him.” You sigh out.
Johnny looks unbelievably pissed.
“I don’t know what I’m gonna do, he broke so many of my things, I don’t know where to go,” you’re almost sobbing now, working yourself up.
“Calm down,” he shushes you, “You’ll be staying with me.” Your expression is doubtful, “What’s that look for?” He questions.
“You literally just ghosted me out of nowhere, over an imaginary problem that you created,” you remind him.
His hands let go of your face and land on your shoulders, “That was me being stupid about me being stupid, I fucked up, but I am here for you and you will stay with me.” He cements, not really leaving you any room to disagree.
Tears are still falling down your cheeks, you wipe at them with the back of your hand, “Okay.”
“Good, now pack a bag,” he lets go of your shoulders.
Locating one of your suitcases, you pack as many clothes as you think you’ll need, as quickly as you need, not wanting to stay here any longer than necessary. You also grab some of your basic necessities and memorabilia.
On your way to the front door Johnny carries your bag, “Wait a sec,” you call out to him.
He stops where he is and you walk over to the lounge room, picking through the glass on the floor.
“Be careful,” he warns.
Humming at him in response, mostly ignoring him, you fish out the photo of the two of you. It’s one of your favourites and you’d hate to lose it.
Johnny’s expression is curious, “What is it?”
“Us,” you turn the photo around to show him, “It’s my favourite.”
He smiles at the photo before he frowns, “What a freak, real insecure guy,” he says in reference to your ex.
You smile a bit, because yeah your ex is very insecure and a huge freak but, “You literally fingered me within earshot of him.”
Johnny pouts and looks away, “Still…”
“Let’s leave,” you save him from whatever he was going to say in protest.
He nods at you, “Sounds good, sugar.”
✰ ✰ ✰
Walking through the lobby of Johnny’s apartment is always a bit of a shock, his apartment is nicer and has actual front desk security. You can already tell that you’ll feel safer here, even if you were left alone. You can’t help but feel a little bad for him though, he loved his mansion and he had to sell it.
The ride up the elevator is quiet, which you’re thankful for right now, you’re not really in a conversational mood. Just wanting to shower and get out of your work clothes, wash off the day in general.
Inside his apartment, he shows you to the guest room and drops your bag onto the bed.
Turning to him, you ask, “Can I have a shower?”
“I dunno, can you?”
You scowl at him, “May I have a shower?”
“You may,” he smiles cheekily.
He shows you to the bathroom, you’ve been here before but he’s a thorough man, double checking that you’re comfortable and know where everything is. When you affirm that you will be okay and have everything under control, he’s leaving you to your own devices, wandering off into the living area.
Grabbing your toiletries first before you’re immediately getting inside the shower. All too ready for the comfort the warm water will give you. You let the water run over you, allowing yourself a moment to lose your composure, letting yourself cry under the water. Things could be worse but they could also be better and in this private moment in the shower, you let yourself feel like the world is ending.
After you’ve finished in the shower, you towel yourself off quickly, walking to the guest room with the towel wrapped around you, having left your clothes in there. But as you shuffle the clothes around in your suitcase, you notice you’ve not packed any pyjamas, and now you want to cry again. Because how are you so stupid as to forget pyjamas.
Stopping yourself from spiralling, you take a few deep breaths and go looking for Johnny, you’ll just have to borrow a shirt of his. You find him in the kitchen, sipping on a drink.
“Johnny?” You call out to him; his back is facing you.
He hums as he turns around, eyes growing wide as he realises you’re only wearing a towel.
“What’s up, sugar?” He’s straining himself to keep looking into your eyes and not anywhere else.
Rocking on the balls of your feet a bit, you tell him, “I forgot pjs, do you have a shirt I can borrow or something?”
His gaze is distant for a second, you walk closer to him and wave a hand in front of his face. He catches you by the wrist, “Sure I do, gimmie a sec,” he smiles at you, his eye twitching the slightest bit as he talks.
He wanders away for a few moments, when he reappears, he’s holding a shirt of his. It’s long sleeved and has different coloured sleeves to the rest of the shirt, you gratefully accept it.
“Thank you,” you say, walking away hastily to change.
You hear him hum out a response to you as you waddle away quickly.
When you slip it over your head, you first note how soft and warm it is, and second you note how large it is on you. It covers your lower half fairly well, but you didn’t ask for bottoms and he didn’t give you any so you pick out a pair of boy short underwear, they aren’t anything special but they do have little stars all over them.
Anyways, they’ll do as more conservative bottoms for the night, you’ll go to get some of your pyjamas tomorrow. For now, these will pass as shorts, kind of, it’s unlikely they’ll even be seen anyways. Are you overthinking this? You feel like you’re overthinking this.
Exiting the room, you go back to the kitchen and notice that Johnny isn’t there anymore, nor is he in the lounge room. Shuffling around his kitchen, you look at his ingredients, wanting to cook him something as a thank you for taking you in temporarily.
He hasn’t got heaps but you can make a carbonara, he has the basics for it, pasta, cream, bacon, etc. You think this will do nicely, though mostly you’ve just talked yourself into wanting pasta.
When Johnny comes back into the kitchen, you’re standing by the stove making the cream. Quickly glancing to him, you realise he’s also showered. He looks good, domestic. In a casual t shirt and sweatpants, your eyes linger for a bit longer than what’s appropriate. Swiftly snapping your head back to the stove when you notice you’re staring for too long.
“What’s cookin’ good lookin’,” he sing songs to you, coming up to stand by your side.
You can’t help but roll your eyes at him, “Creamy carbonara.”
“Smells good,” he comments.
“That would be the bacon,” you nod your head to the bacon bits you had previously cooked.
When you look up to him, he’s already looking down at you. His eyes are filled with a kind of affection for you that you’ve never taken any notice of. His eyes flit from your eyes to your lips, his hand coming up and grabbing the side of your face, thumb stroking high on your cheek bone.
You lean into his hand and he’s dipping down to you, “You look good in my shirt,” he whispers to you, lips almost touching.
Just as he’s about to take your lips in his, there’s a bubbling sounds coming from the stove.
“Ah, the pasta!” You move out of his grasp quickly, lowering the heat on the stove. It had almost boiled over in your distraction, “Go away! You’ll make me ruin something!”
“Wanna ruin you,” he mutters as he walks away, though you don’t hear him.
“What?” You ask him as he walks away.
He calls out, “Nothing!”
His restraint is wearing thin around you and he wonders briefly, if having you here is going to end well. He almost folded just from you wearing his shirt and cooking for him, he has to find a grip and hold it.
Seemingly, you are completely unaware of his own internal conflict, happily humming to yourself in his kitchen, cooking a meal for the both of you. Johnny watches you from the breakfast bar, enjoying the sight of you flitting around his kitchen.
“Where are your plates?” You ask him.
“Bottom cupboards, by the stove,” he answers.
Bending down you open the cupboards but there’s only baking trays and other miscellaneous oven trays in here. He watches as you bend over, enjoying the sight of his t shirt riding up, seeing your small ‘shorts’ as it does.
You huff, standing up, “No they aren’t.” You turn around to look at him.
“I know, I lied,” he smiles innocently at you.
Scowling at him you ask, “Why?”
He avoids the question, “Just cause,” he shrugs at you, “they’re actually in the bottom cupboards on the other side.”
You look at him sceptically, walking closer to him and looking in the cupboards again, and this time he told you the truth. Grabbing two plates, you place them on the bench top.
Choosing to ignore him, you continue humming a mindless tune as you dish out the pasta. When you’re finished, you slide the plate over to him. Walking yourself around the counter so you’re next to him, you sit beside him and reach forward, dragging your plate to yourself, ready to feast.
“Thanks, doll,” he says.
“Mmm, thank me when you’ve tried it,” you remark.
You both sit in a comfortable silence whilst you eat, which you are grateful for. You’re hungry and want to eat without having to stop to talk. The food tastes good, probably one of the better ones you’ve made, it’s an easy recipe, one of your go to’s and it never fails to fill a hole in your heart where pasta lives.
After you’ve finished, you get up to clean up but Johnny stops you, “Ah, you cooked, I’ll clean.”
“But I’m the one that made the mess,” you contend.
He looks at you with a brow raised, expression reading as ‘really?’ You sigh and allow him to take your plate. As he bends over your shoulder to take it, he kisses your cheek, “It was very good, thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” your face feels hot all of a sudden.
He stands at the sink, rinsing the plates off before putting them in the dishwasher, “What made you cook?”
“A thank you, for letting me stay,” you smile watching him clean up, “I’m being a good house guest.”
“Ah, can I expect a cooked meal every night then?” He teases.
Your face pulls up in a joking scowl, “Absolutely not! You can cook tomorrow… and the day after and the day after.”
“I see, so it was a one-time deal,” he nods in understanding.
“Can’t give it away for free, you gotta want it,” you joke.
A quiet falls over the both of you for a moment, neither of you sure what to say next.
“Do you want to watch a movie?” You ask him.
He’s moved away from the sink and is back at the bench, arms holding himself up on it as he looks at you deviously, “What movie?”
You know what he wants, “Not one of yours.”
“That’s not very nice, doll,” he groans out in complaint.
Arguing with him, you say, “I have already seen all of your films, we are not watching one tonight.”
“Whoever gets the remote picks the movie,” he states quickly before making a run for the lounge room.
You aren’t as quick as him, scrabbling out of your chair to chase after him, “Johnny, not fair!” You don’t even know where his tv remote is.
When you make it into the lounge, he’s already holding the remote, wiggling it back and forth, taunting you. Groaning, you trudge up to him.
“That was not fair,” you complain.
He has a large victorious smile on his face, “Wasn’t trying to be fair, sugar. I was trying to win.”
Trying to be sneaky, you move closer to him, but he holds a hand up as you approach, “Ah ah, stay where you are, I won,” he informs.
“I’m not doing anything,” you shrug.
He keeps moving away from you, you’ve successfully rounded him so that his back is facing the couch now. Moving closer to him, he has no where else to go. It doesn’t bother him though, he squares his posture, holding his ground.
“I wouldn’t recommend whatever you’re about to do, doll.” He warns you.
You repeat again, “I’m not doing anything.”
Standing right up against him now, you go to quickly grab the remote but he moves it up and away hurriedly. You grab onto his forearm and try to pull it down as you jump for it, he’s laughing at you. His evasion of your attempts at grabbing the remote are effortless, you’re still trying to pull his arm down to you but you think he’d sooner be able to hold all your weight on one of his arms, than you bringing it down to you.
This isn’t working, you need a new plan. Pulling back, you look up at him.
“That won’t work on me,” he says.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” comes your reply.
“That,” he gestures towards your face, “Looking at me all cute like, won’t work, not tonight.”
You smile sweetly at him, “But another night, it would work?”
He squints at you, unsure of what you’re planning, “Maybe…”
Your plan wasn’t anything along these lines, but it’s fun to know that apparently you could get him to bend to your will in different circumstances with just a sweet look.
Stretching up, you go for the remote again, he steadily holds it out of reach, “C’mon sugar, you know this isn’t working–”
You take the chance while he’s talking to jump up on him, legs wrapping around his hips, your hands making a move for the remote. He’s shocked, his free arm automatically coming to rest under you to hold you steady. The only thing he can think to do, is drop the remote onto the floor and kick it across the room, away from the both of you.
“No!” You protest, moving to unwrap yourself from him and go after the remote.
Johnny holds you to him though, before using his grip on you to chuck you down onto the couch, you’re laughing and struggling against him, still protesting. You don’t stop wiggling, even though he’s straddled you and is holding your wrists down to the couch.
“Stop squirming so much,” he chuckles at you. The shirt you’re wearing has ridden up your hips, exposing your underwear completely to him, “Those are really cute, doll,” he teases you.
“You can’t distract me, we are not watching one of your movies,” your wrists struggle against his grasp.
“I can hold you here all night, sweetness,” his smile devilish.
You scowl at him, “If it means we don’t watch your movie, then go right ahead.”
His threat isn’t much of a threat to you, in this moment you feel yourself growing wet at his harsh hold on you. The way he effortlessly overpowered you making you feel some kind of way, you find yourself wishing he’d fuck you into the couch. You’re working yourself up the longer he holds you here. Your thighs lightly clenching at the thought of being opened up on his cock, the first man you’d ever be with.
“What are you thinking bout, sugar?” He asks, catching the faraway look in your eyes.
You blink once and shake the thoughts out of your head, “thinking about how much I don’t wanna watch your movie,” you retort.
“Aww you’re hurting my feelings here, doll.” His expression faux sadness.
Both of you looking into each other’s eyes, neither of you planning to cave, at least not anytime soon. Johnny has enough of it and decides to play dirty, his hands leaving your wrists and instead come up to tickle at your sides and ribcage.
Laughs fall from your lips, along with pleas trying to ask him to stop. The feeling making it harder to breathe, you’re taking in big breaths in between gasping laughs. Your body tries wiggling away from him, you manage to flip onto your stomach and try to crawl away from him but his thighs keep you locked in place, if anything you’re more immobile now. His tickling is unrelenting and you feel like you might pass out.
Tapping the couch as you say, “Okay, okay! I concede, just please stop!”
He hums and leans down from above you, whispering into your ear, “Good girl.”
You hide your face in the couch, skin hot and pussy aching, he isn’t being very nice to you tonight. Working you up, leaving you high and dry. He hops off you and grabs the remote, lifting your legs and sitting back down, resting them in his lap.
He slaps your leg lightly, “C’mon, you have to watch it now.”
Grumbling to yourself as you move up in a sitting position next to him, expression none too pleased. He’s smiling brilliantly at you though, overjoyed with his victory.
Sighing as you sink back into the couch, “I dislike you right now.”
“Well, I like you a whole lot right now,” He counters.
He flicks the movie on and you get about a third of the way into it when your eyelids start slipping shut, tired from the very difficult last couple days.
Thankfully, your dreams are pleasant, though they are filled with Johnny, mostly memories of last night, when you were stuffed full of his fingers, the sounds he was making, the words he spoke to you.
Your mind conjures images of him fucking you, how he would look above you, grabbing your hips as he rocked his dick in and out of you. The dream is pleasant, the feelings it offers you divine.
Suddenly, you’re being pulled back to your body, you awaken with a jolt.
“You fell asleep! That’s really rude of you, y’know. Hurting my feelings here, doll,” he criticizes you.
Based on the last scene you remember watching and where you are now, he either let you sleep for a while, or didn’t realise you were asleep.
You wipe at your eyes, “Mm sorry,” you mumble, stretching out a little.
He’s got an evil smile on his face when you look him in the eyes, “You were moaning.”
“Was not!” You don’t believe him.
“You definitely were, and I’d know,” his smile large as he teases you, “It was cute, what were you dreaming about, mmm?” he hums in delight.
You wonder for a moment what his end goal is here, he teases you but never follows through, aside from the other night but then he seemingly regretted that right after it happened. You decide to try something outside of your comfort zone.
You look at him, “And if I told you I was dreaming of you?”
He goes to shut you down, “I don’t–”
“–If I told you how wet I am right now, from thinking of you?”
“Don’t.”
“Why not?” You press.
“You know damn well ‘why not’,” He argues, “I’m older than you, and you’re a virgin!” He tells you these things like you don’t already know.
“…I want you, making my panties all wet,” you’re squirming in your seat lightly.
He groans out at your words, “Doll…” his expression is pained.
Feeling insecure you ask, “Do you not want me?”
“Are you kidding?” Dubious expression on his face, “You get me so hard, doll.”
“Then why won’t you even kiss me?”
“I want to, all the time,” he confesses.
You crawl across the couch and straddle his lap, his hands come up to your hips straight away. Grip digging into your skin, restraining his desire, wanting nothing more than to fuck into you how he wants.
“Why don’t you,” you press him for answers.
“Don’t trust myself around you, can’t help but tease you, touch you,” his grip on your hips tightens for a second, “The last thing I wanna do is take advantage of you.”
“I want you to take advantage of me,” the statement is true, you’ve never wanted to be with a man more than you do him.
He’s using every fibre of his being to control himself right now, refusing to do any more than hold you, his hands are holding you away from his lap. Knowing if he feels the warmth of your cunt through your panties, he’s going to lose his mind and all self-control.
Bringing your hands up, you place them on his shoulders, and then you lean forwards. Pressing a soft kiss to his cheek, moving to the other and placing a kiss there, his breaths become laboured. Your lips travel across his cheek, pecking him as you go, kissing the corner of his mouth, and then a light kiss to his full lips, he sighs against you and kisses you back.
It’s quick, because you’re continuing to peck kisses on his face, a kiss to the other corner of his mouth, and his other cheek again. As you travel back, kiss on the corner of his mouth again, and as you kiss him lightly on his lips, he kisses you back harshly, hands coming up and grabbing your face. He angles you and deepens the kiss, his kiss is desperate for you, fuelled by need.
Without his hands on your hips, you can drop to his lap properly, you sigh at the hardness of his dick against you, and he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into the kiss. You moan against his mouth in response and he groans.
Tentatively, you grind down into him lightly, needing some kind of friction. He distracts himself with kissing you, trying not to lose himself in the feel of your pussy grinding into his very hard dick. You’re so horny and this isn’t nearly enough for you.
Pulling away from his mouth you complain, “Want more.”
“You really are needy, aren’t ya, doll?” He teases.
But you roll your hips into his and he grunts in response, his hands gripping your hips again, without your lips on his, he’s hyper focused on the way you rut into his dick. You pull his sweats down, his cock bare, he’s not wearing anything under his pants and it has you moaning.
You sit down again; your panties are soaked and the feel of the slippery fabric rubbing up and down his cock has Johnny whimpering. You keep grinding into him, groaning in frustration, wanting more.
His hand grabs onto your panties and rips them from you, just straight up tearing them off your body, the display of strength makes you whimper.
“You gotta do this my way, sugar.” He tells you.
You nod your head at him, you’d probably agree to arson right about now.
“God, so fucken eager.” He chuckles at you, sliding you against him again.
The bare contact has you keening, rutting down onto him with more urgency. Wet squelching noises are filling the room as you slide against his cock, you want him inside you so badly. The thought of having him inside you making your cunt drool on his dick.
“You’re so fucken wet, ffffuck,” Johnny is groaning out, his control of the situation hanging on by a thread.
“I want you inside,” you tell him.
“No,” his voice is stern, it’s a line he refuses to cross.
You huff at him, “Johnny please–”
“ – You can plead all you want, Mm not fucking you, your first time isn’t –nghff– going to be on my damn couch,” his voice is strained.
“Want it,” you tell him, eyes teary with how needy you feel.
“And you think I don’t?” He snaps at you. His reaction makes your heart flutter and your pussy throb, “God, you are sooo –ngh– feel so good, sugar.”
His grip is guiding you now, taking control of the pace, of the pressure. He holds you tightly to him, slipping his cock through your slick folds, the head of his cock bumping your clit. Lewd wet sounds are coming from you and if you weren’t so horny you might’ve been embarrassed at how aroused you are.
The head of his cock catches on your pussy hole and you flutter around the very tip of him, a loud grunt coming from Johnny, his chest rumbling with the force of it.
“Please?” You try again, while he’s weak.
He shakes his head at you, his own expression dazed, “No…” he grits out, cock twitching against you.
You push down a bit on him, his eyes shoot to yours, a restrained kind of anger residing inside them, “I said no.” He scolds.
His chastising makes your cunt flutter against him again and his eyes roll back, he pulls you away from him. He manhandles you onto your back so you’re laying against the couch, he pulls off his shirt before spreading your legs open for him, his hips fitting between them.
Resting his cock between your folds again, slipping against you, “You take what I give you, or you get nothing, doll.”
You hum out a moan, letting him do whatever he wants to you. He tugs his shirt up your chest, exposing your upper half to him, mouth immediately going for one of your nipples, sucking and licking at it. The feeling making you whine, chest rising up into him, hips chasing his.
When he pulls away, he nips at you a bit, a shudder running down your spine. As he looks you in your eyes again he says, “Jesus, you have no idea how fucked out you look right now, pretty little girl, so fucken wet, so goddamn needy.”
He grinds down into you, leaning his body against yours, his weight resting on his forearms beside your head. Your hands grip his bare back, his head rests beside your ear, lips whispering filth to you.
“Want me to fuck you so badly hmm? Won’t fuck any of your little boyfriends –ngh– but you’re beggin’ me for my cock,” his words are disrupted by the moans he lets out at the feeling of your slippery cunt.
“Mhmm,” you agree because, yeah pretty much, “I’d let you do almost –hah– anything to me,” you tell him.
He curses, “Fucken filthy, you’re making me lose my goddamn mind, doll.”
You wrap your legs around his hips, locking them behind him, his movements grow more urgent, desperately humping into you. He pulls his head from your ear to kiss you deeply, tongue exploring your mouth, it has you moaning into him.
Pulling back, he checks, “Let me do anything?”
You nod your head at him in confirmation.
“Open your mouth,” his thumb tugs your lip down.
You open your mouth for him and he spits into your mouth, onto your tongue, the action makes you gasp, face hot.
“Swallow,” he says, eyelids low.
His voice makes you shudder and you swallow his spit down, the sight of it makes him curse. He kisses you again, taking your breath away. Your fingernails dig into his back.
His hips are rutting into you, pace growing quicker, the wet noises sounding slicker, the way he glides over your clit has your eyes crossing behind closed lids. Your moans turn into whimpers, right on the precipice of cumming.
Johnny pulls his lips back, forehead resting against yours, his brows knit together, moans falling from his lips. His tongue flicks over his lip quickly, you’re gasping under him.
“Look so fucken perfect, doll. Should I keep you like this under me? Play with you how I like, mmm?”
His words and deep voice are what send you over the edge, the idea of him teasing you how he pleases has you cumming. You’re sputtering out nonsensical words, whimpers ruining any words you try to create.
Johnny groans at the sight of you cumming, he looks down between the two of you, enamoured by how he’s sliding through your folds. His cock wet and shiny from your slick and cum, it has a shudder running down his spine.
“Wan you to – nghfffuck me nex time, wan – hah – na be fill with you, –mm– with your – ngh – cum,” you’re babbling to him, barely making sense to yourself, you aren’t even convinced you’re talking right now.
But Johnny knows you are, your words have him cumming violently, dick jerking against your cunt, his cum spilling all over your pussy and lower stomach. His groans turn into moans, and then he’s whimpering as he keeps rutting against you.
He looks at your lower half and the way his cum has gotten all over you, he uses two fingers to scoop it up and shoves them in your mouth. The taste bitter but you suck his fingers clean, swallowing around them. His gaze is captivated by you, groaning at you eating his cum.
Johnny gets up from you and tugs on his sweats, walking away momentarily and coming back not long later with a washcloth, wiping the rest of his cum off of you. When he’s cleaned it off you, he tugs your shirt back down, giving you back some of your modesty. Wandering off again, he disposes of the cloth and comes back with a glass of water.
“Drink this, sweetness,” he instructs, handing the cup to you.
Sitting up on the couch, you accept the cup and drink it down, appreciating the kindness. He sits beside you and strokes his hands up and down your thighs.
He takes the cup from you and places it out of the way, you’re a little dazed still, lost for words at what just happened.
“This can’t happen again,” he tells you gently.
Your expression is confused, “Why not?”
“I won’t be able to control myself next time.”
“I didn’t want you to this time,” you retort.
“Sugar, it’s not just a couple years between us, it’s a decade,” he stresses, “This is inappropriate.”
“Johnny, I appreciate your concern but I am an adult and I can choose who I sleep with.”
“I don’t want to defile you,” he’s terrified of ruining you somehow, of taking advantage.
“If you don’t want to ‘defile’ me, I’ll go fuck someone else and then it won’t be like I lost my virginity to you.” You’re just teasing him.
“Do not fuck someone else,” the look he gives you is even and serious, not even considering the idea of you having sex with someone else. He doesn’t find your comment funny.
You ask him eagerly, “Does that mean you will have sex with me?”
The look on his face is one of a good man trying so hard to stick to his morals. You smile at him sweetly and he practically melts for you, he grabs you and pulls you to him for a hug. Laying back on the couch with you resting on top of him.
He sighs, “Maybe one day.”
You can work with that for now, you smile to yourself, proud of your small win.
✰ ✰ ✰
A/N: Thank you for reading it all!!! I hope you enjoyed it; I wrote a 1k outline for this fic and I wasn’t expecting it to get this long but I’m not mad about it :)) Hopefully you aren’t either! I have a part two planned for this, I’ll probably only write it if people ask for it just cause this one took me a few days to write heheh. As always, requests are open, but don’t hesitate to reach out if you have questions about me, my blog, or specific fics, I love interacting with everyone and answering questions <33 I LITERALLY LOVE YOU ALL
˗ˏˋPart twoˎˊ˗
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— “tell me you’re mine.” “ i’m yours.”
☀︎ — pairing: azriel x afab!reader
☀︎ — summary: you dream that azriel was cheating on you and now you can’t look at him without being annoyed. It’s not really his fault, but still… azriel reassures you, promising that you’re the only one for him.
☀︎ — warnings: a sprinkle of angst, fluff, a bit of crack, smut, oral (m. receiving), fingering, dirty talk, fluffy smut ngl, mentions of crying, cursing, mentions of hickeys and bruises
☀︎ — amara’s note: i loved writing this, also this is my apology fluff fic for the angst fic. hope you liked it! also english isn’t my first language so if you see any grammar errors, no you didn’t 🫶🏽 i think this is my proudest work🥹
tags: @callmeblaire @rowaelinsdaughter @azrielslightintheshadows @hauntedwitch04
Azriel’s brows furrowed as you avoided his hug for the second time today and just walked past him, acting like he wasn’t more than a ghost. This whole brushing him off thing had been going on all day and he was genuinely confused. Were you in a bad mood? Was your cycle coming? Azriel knew you were emotional during this time, but you usually stuck to him like glue.
He checked his mental calendar - no, not for another two months.
Did he say something to you? He replayed everything he said and every conversation you had yesterday and today but nothing seemed out of the ordinary.
Well, except for the fact that you were flat out ignoring him.
Azriel felt distressed over the fact that you ignored him, and he just wanted to be closer to calm down. Knowing he might have upset you, deeply unsettled him, prompting a strong desire to bridge the emotional gap between you.
Azriel found solace in your presence whenever he felt upset. You'd sprawl on the plush bed, arms open wide, inviting him into your embrace with a soft and tender expression. His head would rest on your chest, settling his weight on you, comforted by the beat of your calming heartbeat. It was a sweet sanctuary he sought when the world felt heavy.
There was nothing calm or sweet about the way you didn't spare him a second look, pouting as you carried on with your day. Occasional dagger stares shot his way, and even though you thought he didn't notice, he did. Of course, he did. The tension in the air was palpable as your silent discontent lingered.
Azriel decided to start small and ask an easy question, not daring to accidentally say something that will set you off.
“So, angel, what have you done while I was gone? Is the book you picked out yesterday any good?”
Sipping on the delightful peppermint tea, you huffed and snorted, keeping your gaze fixed on the window from the comfort of the soft sofa in the sitting room.
“Well, wouldn’t you just love to know?”
His brain was scrambled at this point, desperately attempting to save the clearly and very obviously dying conversation.
“Uh, yes? I’d love to know. If you don’t want to talk about the book then that’s fine but-”
“You’re just giving up so easy, Azriel. Atleast fight a bit. No wonder you cheated on me…”
Huh? What the actual fuck?? Confused and shocked, his brain went haywire, jaw dropping as he struggled to find words. A bewildered look crossed his face as he grappled with the unexpected situation.
He cheated on you? What were you talking about? The mere thought of being near another woman made him nauseous. Really, he didn’t like being around people at all, so the thought of going out of his way to find someone and then invite them to bed was something that made him shiver.
“What are you saying? I would never be unfaithful to you, please let’s just talk.” he dropped to his knees infront of you, panicked, trying to find the words to explain himself and to clear his name of something he didn’t do.
“You cheated on me. Yeah, with some blonde girl. And you seemed to enjoy it, too. Ugh, I’m so pissed, I can’t even look at you.” You put down your teacup a bit too hard as you folded your arms over your chest, glaring out the window in silent anger.
The crackling of the hearth was the only sound as Azriel's face paled. He was at a loss – how did you come to believe he was unfaithful? Where did these thoughts come from? The mystery hung in the air, a palpable tension challenging the warmth of the fireplace.
“If I truly was unfaithful, can you provide details? When did this happen, and where was I with this girl?” You felt his pleading, questioning stare burn into you from where he knelt.
Okay, so maybe you shouldn’t keep this up. He didn’t actually cheat on you. It was a dream but it felt so realistic that when you woke up and saw him besides you, you actually snarled. There you were, struggling to look at him without mentally replaying the scene of some random woman giving Azriel's body a tour. Fucking hell, you had never felt such betrayal and hurt by something that didn’t even happen.
But it felt silly to tell Azriel that you were mad at him for something your subconscious created , a dream you had dreamt. So you simply avoided him instead.
But damn, he was persistent.
Perhaps it was irrational, but you felt a desire to stir up some drama, maybe hoping to shake things up a bit.
“Okay, Azriel, I’ll spill. Yesterday at Rita’s, this blonde woman was all over you, touching everywhere. And you, shamelessly soaked it up like it was a spa. In my dream you also smiled as you held eye contact with me. You totally knew I saw you and did it anyways.” You looked away, breathing deeply as the memories invaded your mind.
Azriel felt a combination of relief and disbelief as you revealed it was all a dream. But he wouldn’t downplay what you imagined since he deep down felt your hurt through the bond. You had already been married for decades but the bond had snapped about 7 months, still new, so he understood that seeing him with someone else was hard. Hell, he’d feel absolutely murderous if he ever dreamt of some male feeling you up and fucking you, even if it was a dream.
He stood up as he dragged you to your feet and tilted his head, assessing if he should approach you or not,
“Sweetheart, you know I'd never do such a thing, right? How could I ever be unfaithful to you, my sweet girl? You're my perfect mate, my loving wife, my everything.”
He stepped closer and closer until his enticing scent enveloped you. Oh, how did you go an entire day without being close to him? Your mate towered over you, gently gripping your chin and tilting your head up. His face mere centimeters away, a magnetic force pulling you into a moment that blurred any lingering doubts.
“ I love you more than anything on this planet. In no universe would I ever stray away from you - you’re my beloved home, my cauldron fated. Over my dead body would I ever entertain another woman. I’ve waited for over half a millennium for you and I’d wait a million more for just a minute with you, sweetheart. I will never allow myself to disrespect you like that ever, I promise.”
Tears welled up in your eyes as he drew closer, his soft lips meeting yours. In that moment, your love for him overwhelmed everything else. His gentle kiss offered reassurance and warmth, the sting of the bargain tattoo fading into the background as he continued, sending shivers down your spine.
Needing one last push of reassurance you beg him for a last sentence. Looking up at him with glossy eyes, you whisper,
“Say you’re mine. Say you belong to me.”
"I'm yours, I belong to you. Just as you're mine, you belong to me."
Tears streamed down as your heart raced, overwhelmed by his sincere devotion to you.
He wiped away your tears gently, his eyes filled with unwavering affection. “No more doubts, my love. We're bound to each other, and I'll spend every moment proving my devotion to you.”
His words hung in the air, creating a comforting embrace that removed any lingering insecurities, even ones in dreamscapes.
You slumped in his arms, finding solace in the embrace of his huge arms. He held you tightly, rocking you gently from side to side, creating a soothing rhythm. Your tears dried, replaced by a sense of calm as the only audible sound became the steady beat of his heart. Inhaling his calming scent, you grounded yourself in the reassurance of your mate's embrace.
Azriel tenderly stroked your hair, his touch a gentle reassurance. In a heartfelt moment, he pressed a soft kiss to your hairline, expressing his love and commitment without the need for words.
Your heart swelled with love, the connection through your bond overflowing with overwhelming warmth. The excess energy and love pulsated between you two, prompting you to contemplate a way to reciprocate the comfort and love to Azriel.
Lifting your head from its resting place on his chest, you stood on your tiptoes and initiated a kiss. Your arms remained cradled by him, your head guiding the motion as you continued to share this affectionate moment with your husband.
Azriel noticed the quickening beat of your heart, your eyes fluttering as the kiss deepened. He knew what you wanted and he couldn’t deny you ever. His lucious lips curving into a smile. You did your best to keep eye contact with him but it was difficult given that Azriels eyes had darkened over with lust, pupils expanding as his lids were slightly lowered.
Staring him dead in the eyes you whispered your desires,
“I want you. I want you everywhere. I want your mouth.”
You placed a kiss on his cheek.
“I want your hands.”
You kissed his other cheek.
“ I want you inside me, mate. “
You gave him a final kiss on the lips, sealing your wishes.
Azriel let his eyes flutter shut, struggling to tame his desires. He knew you inside and out, knew exactly what pace and setting you craved in that moment. Bending down to your level, Azriel picked you up, carrying you to the bedroom.
As Azriel carried you to the bedroom, you couldn't resist planting tender kisses along his neck, sucking and biting as you created bruises. The soft touch of your lips added a playful warmth to the moment and you couldn’t help staring up at him. His handsome features captivated you – the straight nose, sharp jaw, and beautiful eyes. He looked as if The Mother Herself had carefully carved him. His long, dark lashes and perfectly shaped brows added an extra layer to the masterpiece that was Azriel.
A possessive pride swelled within you. As you continued trailing kisses along his neck, you couldn't help but revel at the fact that Azriel was undeniably yours. A sense of exclusivity and fierce protectiveness filled your mind, boasting that no one would ever touch him the way you did, no one would ever love him the way you did.
‘Suck on that you blonde bitch’ was all you could smugly think.
Azriel gently placed you in front of the full-length mirror by your bed, positioning himself behind you. With deliberate care, he bent down, pressing kisses to your head, temple, ear, cheek, and finally, lingering on your neck. Each kiss was an expression of affection, creating a trail of shivers along your spine and arms.
His hands slid down to your waist, giving it a firm yet gentle squeeze. The slow, deliberate touch made the moment feel personal and intimate. You make eye contact with your husband through the mirror and slightly nod, giving him permission to continue.
You step back, making him feel your ass through his pants, grinding against him as his hands travel up to your breasts. Azriel lightly squeezes them before moving to play with your stiffened nipples. His moves elicit a gasp from you as you revel at the feeling of him touching you.
You press against him again, this time harder. Azriel hisses as he lightly grab your neck with one hand, focusing his clouded eyes on yours through the mirror.
“Watch it. This is about you, not me, baby.” He unzips your dress, letting it pool around your feet. Instinctively you bring your hands up to cover yourself up, looking away, and realizing that you’re in fact completely stark naked infront of your fully dressed mate.
Azriel is having none of it. He wants you to see how beautiful you are. Wants you to see how your face twist in pleasure. Wants you to notice your little quirks that you otherwise wouldn’t see. He wants you too see the goddess he’s worshipping every day.
“Eyes open, sweetheart. You have to see how beautiful you look.” His hands envelops yours as he lowers your hands, leaving you bare infront of him. You hear rustling behind you and feel a sudden warmth pressing against your back. Opening your eyes, you see Azriel undressed with his warm chest pressed against your back. He looked massive, wings splayed proudly behind him, big arms flexing as he leaned down. His lips pressed against your ear, and the hot breath sent shivers down your spine.
“You’re my perfect girl. Look at you, all nice and ready for me. Now, imagine I see this everyday, imagine you laying under me, taking me like a good girl. That’s what you are right, a good girl?”
You nod absentmindedly as your mind goes blank. You just wanna make him proud of you, just wanna please him. “Uh-huh ‘m your good girl, Azzie.”
He flashes you a smirk, hands traveling further down as he teases your clit before pushing in his finger. You let out a sound of pleasure as your head slumps back into his chest, his massive hand wrapping around your throat. In and out his fingers go as your pleasure rises, blood heating at the thought of him fucking you on the bed later. Your breathing unevens when he twists his fingers and presses his thumb on your clit, rubbing circles as he pushes in another finger.
Your eyes cross in delight when he curls his fingers and hits that spot that sends electricity through your body, making you grab onto his built forearm. Azriel whispers promises of nasty scenes, promises of ways he’ll fuck you stupid. He’ll make sure you’ll never think he’d stray away from you. He’d prove himself forever if that’s what it took for the thoughts to leave your head forever.
Not sure what the mood is today, you ask him for permission to come. If you normally did it without asking, he’d edge you. And that was just not something you wanted to happen today so better safe than sorry. But before you gather your pleasured mind and ask him, Azriel beats you to it.
“Cum on me. Let go on my fingers, beautiful. It’s okay baby, you deserve it. Don’t you think? After all, my girl gets what she wants.”
As if his words triggered something in you, he pumps once, twice and you let go as you scream out his name. Azriel keeps fingering you through your high, looking you deep into your eyes as he brings his fingers to his mouth and sucks on them.
“Delicious.”
Your ears ring, and your vision blur as your knees wobble, nearly falling. Azriel swiftly picks you up, planting a reassuring kiss. He praise you, telling you how good you were and how proud he was. You couldn’t think straight, only wanting more of him.
He placed you gently on the bed, preparing to head to the bathroom for a cloth to clean you up, but you halted him with a request.
“Can I repay you Azzie?”
Your eyes sparkled, and your face glowed with a content smile. With a tilted head and a subtle pout, you hoped he would agree to your request. You were quite tired but you so badly wanted to please him back.
He sensed your exhaustion, and originally he was so supposed to keep going but you were half asleep. He changed his plans and shook his head.
“You’re tired, angel. Rest up, I’ll be fine.”
But you kept resisting, urging and pushing that you weren’t that tired. And since Azriel can’t say no to you, he accepts. You let out a small victorious sound and slither down the bed, making room for Azriel as he settled against the headboard. You moved in closer to him, leaning forward and arching your back. You look up at him once for confirmation and continue when he nods.
Without hesitation, Azriel's hands found their way into your hair, stroking your hair softly before skillfully gathering it into a makeshift ponytail. You fall on your forearms, propping yourself up and obediently await for his words of command.
Azriel gently gripped your chin, his thumb grazing your plump bottom lip. In that moment, words were unnecessary; you already understood what he wanted.
“You’re so beautiful like this.” His words makes you blush.
You look away from his intense eyes and lower your gaze, pulling a chuckle from him. “Baby, stop. You’re making me nervous,” you plead, giving him a cheesy smile you kiss his thigh and move on.
Trying to hide your flustered face, you start out slowly, teasing him with kitten licks all over his tip. Azriel’s hands tightened around your hair making you look up at him with a smirk as he grits out,
“Play later.”
You suck on the head, hollowing your cheeks, before slowly taking in more and more, struggling when you feel him hit the back of your throat. Your mind replays the lessons Azriel taught you, prompting you to inhale through your nose.
His head thrown back against the headboard as his mind swirls with pleasure. He lets out groans and hisses of pleasure, his deep voice letting out praises,
“Fuck, that’s it. Such a good girl.”
“You’re doing so good, keep going.”
“My beautiful, beautiful y/n. You should look like this all the time, mouth full of my cock. Wouldn’t that be something?”
Your mates praise makes your eyes gloss over in submission. There was really no better feeling than being praised and loved by him. Your Azriel.
By the way the muscles in his thighs started tensing you knew he was getting close. You suck your cheeks in more and take him deeper, trying to please him as best as possible.
The room was filled with obscene noises and gags as he hit the back of your throat, bucking his hips.
Pulling away, you use your hand and twist it around his shaft while sucking on the sensitive head. Determined to make him finish, you throw in a few sentences you know will get him there faster.
“you’re so big Azzie, taste delicious too.”
“does my mouth feel good around your cock, az? you wanna cum?”
“let’s see if my pussy feels better, yeah?”
Before you can put him back around your mouth, he grabs your arms and drags you up so that you’re straddling his lap. Without warning he pushes you down on his cock as you let out a loud moan at the stretch.
“You’re right, your pussy does feel better.”
Your hands automatically grab onto his broad shoulders as you grind and bounce on him. You tighten around him as he brings his fingers down to your clit. Looking down on him, you find him smirking, satisfied that he caught you off guard. He knew you didn’t really plan on riding him but you were not fucking complaining.
Quite the opposite actually. You sounded like some deprived whore, moaning and babbling out in pleasure, licking and biting his neck and lips.
Both of you knew you were close. Azriel breathing quickened as you tightened around him.
“Tell me you’re mine.” A soft whimper escapes you as you gaze down at your man. His sweaty hair sticks to his forehead, a rosy blush adorning his cheeks and neck. In his eyes, full of love and affection, as he whispers for the second time today that he's yours forever.
“I’m yours, forever baby, I’m yours.” Azriel chants as he comes, body trembling as you grind on him,soon falling off your high and slumping against his chest.
“I love you so much, honey,” you whispered.
You looked up at him, tears welling up as Azriel held you close, making you feel overwhelmed by the depth of love. The connection between you was an unbreakable thread, weaving through your souls. In his embrace, every touch and shared moment became a testament to the bond you shared. The room faded away as your love for Azriel became an emotional beacon, each tear carrying the weight of countless cherished memories.
Oh, how you loved him.
In the quiet of the moment, Azriel gently wiped away your tears, his eyes reflecting the same depth of emotion.
“I love you too, sweetheart” he whispered, his voice a soothing balm to your overwhelmed heart.
The reassurance in his words melted away the pain, leaving only the warmth of shared love.
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