#john soap mactavish x reader | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

girlfromflor · 2 days ago

Text

ALL OVER ME: ONE SHOT

pairing: roommate!VA!johnny x roommate!fem!reader

summary: finding out that your flatmate johnny is a porn voice actor wasn’t exactly surprising. what astonished you was the amount of nasty ass content he had on his reddit.

"[...] "'m too fuckin' horny today and my flatmate didnae want tae help my situation..." there's a small pause and a long, whispered curse with some fabric rustling in the background. then, the distant sound of sticky squelching, slow and steady – teasing, tempting. "she– uh... she's a fuckin' wee tease," he starts, some small gasps making their appearance in between his words."

genre: smut (MDNI), non-military au, fluff | wc: 10.060

warnings: johnny is a reddit va, crosses and catholicism mentions, 'friends-to-lovers', not slow burn but they yearn a bit, drinking, explicit sexual content: p in v, dirty talk, praise kink, voyeurism and exhibitionism mentions

a/n: main masterlist.

You’ve known Johnny for long enough so that you can make out the spectrum that is his persona – or, better, make out his personas.

When he moved in with you it was supposed to be temporary, only a few months before he found a place for himself, but that extended to a year and now you’re reaching almost two years living with him. He was a total stranger, you met him one Wednesday night while you hung out with a few friends that ended up grouping with his friends at one of their houses and that’s how he got into your life.

He was kind and polite from day one, a bit overwhelming at times but you soon grew used to his overcaring demeanor. You soon learned that he actually wasn’t nice to everyone, which made you feel a bit special and definitely more open to receive his loving gestures. He was so easy to have around, despite you sharing a home – which can be challenging – he was always understanding and tried his best to find a way in between your wishes and his like a true well educated, respectful man – you thought his future wife was a lucky woman.

You always assumed that Johnny’s politeness and well-behaviour must be products of a rigid, catholic education, both at home and at school. It wasn’t hard to guess, he whispered small prayers before eating, he had a cross chain he didn’t take off for nothing and he’d, from time to time, bless you and your day – a small greeting just to make sure his fondness is known. His personality was a big mix of random things, his playlist itself was all over the place – from uk rock to american pop girlies – and, when you realized he had a lot of different facets, you thought maybe it’d be hard to take him in.

But it wasn’t, you got used to it – the flirtiness and the “don’t fuck with me” vibes, all of it. He has always been so polite with you and so kind, sharing an apartment with him never proved to be a bothersome experience – quite the opposite, actually – and you managed to settle in a quiet, nice coexistence right at the first month or so since he moved in.

You usually talked about all sorts of things, though not that personal, you still talked about your childhoods, college times and your current works – and that’s when you learned that he actually has two jobs. You did the grocery shopping together when there were things lacking around the house, you cleaned the house together every Sunday morning, sometimes you even went to the gym together. Despite you never acknowledging it – at least not out loud –, you like to think you’re friends and that you can count on each other, that you were close enough to have a stable, housemate friendship.

Oh, how wrong you’ve been.

After some nights with his friends over and some overanalyzing their internal jokes, you came to terms with the fact that Johnny has porn voice acting as a side hustle. He never vocalized it but he didn’t have to and, honestly, it wasn’t exactly surprising – considering Only Fans is very common nowadays and, well, he has a very attractive voice. What astonished you, however, was the amount of nasty ass content – "roommate" related too, it's important to emphasize – he had on his reddit. You only searched for his content after days and days of wondering what his works were like, until then you could imagine him doing BFE and scripts filled with L-Bombs – or even some vanilla type of content that conservative christians labeled as freaky – but you did not expect the amount of spitting, bondage and power play you’ve found in the tags of his pinned posts.

Well, you should've known better.

Because, the fact that he's sharing audio porn on the internet is already a big flag of his character. There's no way he didn't have at least an exhibitionism kink. Which was the worst thought to ever cross your mind, since you yourself was a very, very devoted voyeur. Watching him around the flat now made you feel like a researcher watching the object of study in the wild. His whole demeanor was different for you, every little thing he did and said got your head racing with what’s he like in bed? He seems smoother when he talks – seems to be doing it with a lot more self-assurance too. Suddenly he's all flirty with others, his Scottish accent rolling thicker on his tongue and his body language way too inviting and you wonder if he knows that you know.

He most certainly gets off on the praise and the pleas. The thirst of anonymous people all over the world. You've never really heard any of his works but you've allowed yourself to read through the comments over and over again – and his answers too. You thought it was manageable, that the plaguing memories of unknown people lusting over him as well as his own filthy behaviour were the worst it could get.

But then you heard it.

For the first time since you started living together, you hear it low and soft, sneaking like a creep in the night through the thin walls of your shared flat. The unmistakable evidence of pleasure, relief and bliss entirely enveloped around it. He was jerking off right there, behind the closed door of his room beside yours, role playing in some sex filled script like some pervert for hundreds of people to hear – and, fuck, if you didn’t want to hear more of it. Yet, as you tried to seek sense in the mumbles and moans with an ear pressed to the wall, you were simply met with muffled little sounds.

To add up even more to your situation – like his newfound carelessness in doing his activities weren't enough –, the sounds of his pleasure started to haunt you. Not only in your home, but in your dreams too. And, then, in your friend's house as well.

It got you confused at first, how she insisted on your acknowledgement of the audio. You wondered why she wanted to share it so bad. It was uncommon for you to engage in sexually related conversations – other than the one moment where you whined to her about how your roommate was the closest you’d ever get to meeting a pornstar –, but she told you time and time again that "you have to listen to this one" and, after a lot of convincing from her, you did. And there it was:

r/gonewildaudio SoapTheBrawVA [M4F] cannae take it anymore [RambleFap] [MDom] [Slight edging] [Begging] [Exhibitionism] in the forms of [Wanting to be caught in the act] mentions of [Doggystyle] [Overstim] [Praising] [Begging] [7:32]

Your friend side-eyed you as you plugged the earphones on, knowing every single word of it by now. She heard it out of curiosity after you’ve talked to her about him posting not safe for work content and immediately decided she had to share it with you. You were flustered even before pressing play, the idea of him even so much as imagining that you're about to hear one of his audios had you hot with embarrassment. A pang of jealousy cut through your chest at the notion that she heard him in such an intimate moment, but it was his job anyways – she was not the only one.

“Wee pervs, hi.” Comes his voice a few seconds in, he gasps as soon as he finishes the greeting phrase and that's how you know he's already at it. You cross your legs, bracing yourself for what’s to come. “‘M too fuckin' horny today and my flatmate didnae want tae help my situation…” There's a small pause and a long, whispered curse with some fabric rustling in the background. Then, the distant sound of sticky squelching, slow and steady – teasing, tempting. "She– uh... She's a fuckin' wee tease,” he starts, a few small gasps making their appearance in between his words.

Even though his reddit post was tagged as "MDom", he’s so whiny about everything. It goes without saying that it became very clear to you what he was talking about – or rather, who he was talking about – with the way he'd describe your clothes and routine. He talks about how much you seem to try and piss him off on purpose, how he hates what you wear around the place. “Makes me wan’ t-tae have a wank on the sofa.” He grows needier as he speaks, letting out a small breath as he slightly picks up the rate on his hand.

“Would— Fuckin’ Jesus–” He moans, the sound so loud and so slutty it has you soaking your underwear. He’s trying hard not to stutter when he speaks again, his tone almost pained: “Would love tae have ye walk in on m-me… ” He groans, voice hoarse and restless, you wonder if he’s close – you don’t dare to look at the screen to know how long of it you’ve already heard.

He keeps talking about how he’d ravage you if he had the chance, describing it in detail. He asks for the listeners to imagine themselves in your place, to finally put an end to his misery and let him fuck you already. “Wan’ t’bend ye over the sofa back, take– Fuck, fuck—” He’s cut off by his moan. There’s a small moment of silence before he laughs at the pause, his hand movement no longer being heard and for a second you think he came. Although, the squelches start again.

“Mhm…” He hums long and low, saying “almost busted then,” with a giggle. “Tha’ what happens when… Ah– when I think of taking ye f-from behind.” Another moan echoes on your earphones and you have to fight the urge to stick a hand inside your pants – what you wouldn’t give to be able to watch him cum. “It wouldnae matter, jus’ wan’ ye all over me, bon.”

He sounds determined even though his breaths are shallow, like they barely reach his lungs. The squelching got louder and wetter, making you think that he must be leaking so much precum because not once you heard a lube bottle being open. “Jus’ wan’ ye tae tell me I did good, bloody hell–” His hand is stroking his cock faster, you can tell. His breath – long uneven – is too shallow now, his sounds desperate, needier. “After I’ve made ye cum again and a-again– Shit– Until ye can o-only thank me.” His voice is rushed and trembling, so it’s no surprise when he announces: “I’m gonnae cum, fuck—” He curses and moans, loud and clear.

There’s some whispering, he repeats that he’s close saying “cumming, I’m cumming, ah– Please, please, p-please,” and you’re not sure what he’s begging for, he probably doesn’t know either but it’s so hot, he sounds so wrecked only by a quick wank it makes you think about how much he’d lose himself if you two fucked. You wonder what he's thinking about when he whispers a curse one last time before his hand starts to slow its movements all the way until there’s no squelching anymore.

“Came so fuckin’ much, made such a mess.” He chuckles, tone light and airy, clearly basking in his post-orgasm bliss. “Christ– Aye… Thank ye for listening and see ye next audio.”

Even after the audio ends you stay still, not taking the earphones off nor touching the phone in your lap. Your friend takes the latter in her hands and closes the app, unplugging the earphones and looking at you as you stare at a random point of her living room. “Well… How’d you like it?”

You blink up at her, biting your lips to try and hide the evident smile that was forming on your lips but failing miserably. You two start laughing, you lean on her and gasp in between your short breaths. “I hate you, y’know?” It’s a boneless insult and she knows it, which only makes her laugh harder.

Needless to say, you couldn’t forget about it. Lucky for you she never mentioned it again and you could live in peace in that regard, but it did nothing to calm your heart – and your cunt. Every time you got close to him as you did your chores together or when he laid on the couch with you, it made you want to jump right into his arms, bask in the lust he nurtured over you and ask: “Do you really want me all over you?”

Naturally, considering the stage of your so-called friendship and the very fact that you live together, you didn’t do as you wished. Instead, you try and keep as normal as you can, brushing him off when he gets too flirty and changing subjects whenever one of his friends mention his side job. Still, Johnny was a smart man and very experienced when it came to people. Living with you for almost two years has taught him a lot of skills, the main one being that he could read you like a book – and, opposite from you, he didn’t avoid doing so.

The Scottish man was convinced he fell for you right when his eyes first laid on your being, the only confirmation needed for him to act accordingly was when he talked to you and you replied so politely and so sweetly he felt like asking you to marry him right there. With that thought in mind, he opted for a more friendly approach and decided to ask you, out of all people, to shelter him for a little while when things got complicated in his old apartment. Different from what he expected, your kindness allowed you to accept him in no time, even helping him move his things as you could.

Around the first few months, he got really comfortable living with you. So much so he didn’t want to leave and his feelings started to get out of hand. He'd catch himself lingering around too long, overly indulged in your conversations and quality time. He’d make himself present as much as he could, leaving little voice notes for you everyday just so you’d remember him at some point of your day. He got so into you that it started to feel like it was too much, especially since you seemed so reserved about it – even with your gentleness and your amiable relationship.

Unfortunately, Johnny was a very sexual man – maybe that’s why he felt so comfortable with being a porn VA – and his only way to release the pent-up tension that weighed his shoulders was sexually. Yet, loyal and committed man that he was, he couldn’t possible fuck someone else without thinking of you, so he did what was viable: he made jerking off more exciting, more arousing. He started doing it with an ajar door, doing it more loudly too, all to have you catch a hint, but you never did. He wondered if, maybe, you didn’t feel what he did. That sharing a home and a routine – a life, as he liked to think – did nothing to you, that you thought about him like you did when you first met.

Until one particular Friday after dinner.

He came home later than expected – he didn’t, you just had the day off, so you had nothing to do except wait for him to come back, which meant no time was soon enough – and asked if you wanted to do something different for supper. From then on, the two of you had spent almost the entire evening together, you said it’d be fun to try the new recipe you’ve written down in your little cooking book – mind you, one recipe that his mum had dictated to you over a voice call – and he agreed instantly, wanting to be in your good graces. You baked together, making the dough and your chosen toppings. Johnny tried to make you smile every five seconds, even going so far as making a heart-shaped pizza just to get in your nerves and, although he thought you’d get flustered or brush him off, you made your own heart-shaped dough to bake.

It seemed like you were in a good mood because, as you ate together, the both of you talked like you never did. He quickly realized he was never allowed to be so emotionally close to you, or anyone for that matter, and it made him so fucking happy to know that you were allowing it to happen – and enjoying it too. His poor in love heart, not knowing better, banged in his chest just from this small moment, from sharing a meaningful evening with his bonnie lass. You shared a bottle of wine, did the dishes together and, as it got too late for anything other than sleep, you settled in your beloved, L-shaped sofa.

He’s tipsy and happy, his whole body buzzing with joy as he watches you put one of your favorite vinyls on his record-player – a ‘cigarettes after sex’ one –, the soft melody of a romantic and melancholic song being heard all around the room. The usual soft, grainy sound is welcomed by his ears and he hums in delight, not having anticipated such a nice set of events this day – he loved the song, but he enjoyed it better knowing you were having fun.

He still remembers how you freaked out when you saw his record player, dusty and underused. He had it for a while but never went so far as buying multiple vinyls – he only had one or two, only his absolute favorite albums. You, on the other hand, started buying one after another from all types of genres, whenever his friends or yours were over you’d play the most calm and ambient melodies. He could see how much you loved it, he even went so far as offering you to keep it when he left, which you refused, saying that it was more practical if he just stayed altogether – you two got along so well, so why not, right?

Johnny’s eyes don’t leave your frame as you start to sway gently to the music’s instrumental, his head tilting to the side, broad frame lazily resting on the cushions as he watches you in the middle of the room. He waits for the first line to be sung before getting up, starting to dance along with you. He startles you a bit in your slight hazy state, but not enough for you to pull away. He is gentle as he moves his right hand to circle around your waist in a firm grip, pulling your body to press on his chest as his left finds your own. Your shared movements are unhurried, the melody enveloping the two of you and you can’t help but rest your head on him as you two slowly dance your thoughts away.

You barely notice the change in songs, the atmosphere too calm and too entrancing for you to think about something other than him. Johnny is beaming in your arms. You love to have him whisper the lyrics with his lips pressed to your ear. The gentle brush of his thumb on your waist makes your heart skip a beat, the heat of it radiating through your shirt and into your skin. You’ve spent the whole day missing him, even though he had simply left for work, and when he came home you wanted nothing other than to have him around you for a bit – or a lot, as it turned out.

He asks you about it – your willingness in letting him linger around like that – after three songs played and you only shrug. He gives you an inquiring look, wanting you to elaborate, so you can’t help but answer. “Jus’ missed you, aye?” Regretting as soon as you see the look on his face – you don’t.

“Aw, ye missed me, bon?” He coos, voice teasing but with an amused edge to it, like he couldn’t believe it at the same time he wanted it to be true.

“Mhm,” You hum and nod in agreement, not wanting to feed his ego but wishing he could know just how much. “That’s what happens when I don’t have better things to do.” You joke instead, letting out a shriek when his hand that was on your waist still squeezes around your skin, wanting to tickle you. “Alright, it wasn’t that. I just missed you, that’s all.”

He laughs at your frantic attempts of making him stop his assault, doing it only to settle both hands on your hips and hold you like that – face to face, his chest brushing against the swell of your breasts. “Why ye didnae text, hen?” He questions with a tilt of his head and it’s clear that he does it for more than just curiosity, it’s an accusation of sorts.

For starters, you didn’t have to do anything. You don’t like that you’re so caught up in his words but you’re not stupid, you know you wanted to and you neglected it. You’ve been having conflicted feelings about him for quite some time now and you didn’t want to give it more meaning than it should have. Regardless of your intentions, that’s exactly what you ended up doing, refraining from sending a simple text just because he could interpret it like you were showing interest – which you would be.

Besides, the motive that crosses your mind has a lot more to do with him than yourself. It makes you flustered, knowing you’re thinking about him in such a way with him so serious in front of you whilst holding your hips so tenderly. You pretend that you’re a couple having a disagreement and, for the shortest time, it just feels right.

“Sorry.” You mumble, like you were guilty of something even if you know you aren’t. Before he could further question you, you add: “I didn’t want to bother you…”

He furrows his brows then, utterly bewildered by your words. In what world would you ever bother him? He can’t think of an answer. Sensing that there was more to it than you’re letting on, he says: “Why would ye bother me, luv?”

“Uhm, y’know…” You make a vague gesture with your head like it’s obvious, your hands finding his forearms and Johnny could swear he has never been so close to losing control at the intimacy of your holds around each other – his mind drifting between wanting to talk to you and wanting to slam his lips in yours. When he makes no move on acknowledging what you mean, you give up. “You… I thought you were busy today. You didn’t send a voice note.”

Johnny stalls entirely and that’s when you realize he had been brushing his hands up and down your sides. He blinks slowly with a frown on his brow before he speaks again. “Are ye sure I didnae send it?”

You giggle at it, not expecting him to be so normal about it. “I’m sure you didn’t,” I would’ve remembered, goes unsaid. Before he can apologize or anything like that, you quickly whisper: “But it’s okay, we had a nice Friday date night to make up for it.”

God, you feel so silly, but it is true. You've been dying to give in to your desires, tired of being so closed off whilst being afraid of jumping with everything you had. So it was a good thing you are acting in the middle of both today.

Johnny, who could never lose the opportunity to tease you a bit and who’s always so attentive of things when it comes to you, quickly catches up on it – the little hint of how you feel. He lets out a sigh, his shoulders relaxing as he realizes what you mean by it. He could feel the butterflies flying all over his insides and coiling in his lower belly. The soft stir of his cock throbbing to life in his pants unbearably embarrassing from just the thought of having you like that.

“Friday date night, huh? Tha’ it, hen?” He says with a smirk, delivering the sentence with enough confidence so you don’t notice the red beginning to blush his cheeks. You simply hum with a sheepish smile in agreement, brushing him off with a whispered “friends’ date, okay?” and Johnny smiles wider at the response, his heartbeat wild in his chest as he restarts the sway of your bodies again, urging you to slow dance with him even though the record was, most likely, in its last couple of songs.

On the days that follow, the two of you never quite escape the unspoken tension – feelings – that came to light that night. Eventually, every Friday night was date night and Johnny would take you out on the days that you didn’t come up with different date ideas – because you always had Friday off work, so you had the time –, even though you two never confessed your feelings.

He started jokingly calling you his girlfriend to his friends and they all ate it up, not even questioning because duh, of course you were. You, on the other hand, would turn into an absolute mess when your friend called Johnny your boyfriend. Still, you never corrected her. Things fell into harmony quite fast and, before you noticed, you were celebrating two years living together – yes, Johnny threw a party. The event was just for you and your closest friends and it was more of an excuse to have them all over than anything else.

It was a Thursday night, the rain outside adding up to the cozy atmosphere, the soft sound of it hitting the glass of your bedroom window doing nothing to distract you from the sight in front of you. You got dressed whilst Johnny was showering, being almost entirely ready when he knocked on your door. You open it without thinking and there it is: Johnny in nothing but white boxer briefs, body still carrying hints of water from his shower as he lifts one shirt in each hand, asking you: “Which one should I wear, bon?”

You stutter out a gasp, turning around to pretend being busy making your bed, desperately trying to avoid jumping his bones. After cleaning your throat and recomposing, you point out: “Depends, what you chose for bottoms?”

He makes a sound of realization, a small “ah”. Then, he leaves your door for a few seconds before he’s back, wearing dark, baggy jeans with an undone brown belt hanging on the loops of it. “I’ll wear these.” He answers, taking in the contemplative pout on your lips and the tilt of your head as you ogle at his lower half. He takes the moment to make his own inspection of your outfit, which helps nothing his state of mind – you look good enough to eat.

“I like those.” You eventually state, eyeing the options on his hands before making a decision. “Wear the white shirt… I think it’d look better than the black one.”

He just nods like a kid being instructed, tossing the black fabric in your bed in order to pull the white one over his head and onto his body. He checks himself out in the mirror, a hand brushing over his mohawk before he follows you out of the room. You walk until you reach your shared bathroom, looking over your shoulder to see Johnny hot on your tail. You don’t even question, already knowing he’s there to do the same as you, so when you open the small, wooden cabinet to take your toothbrush you take his as well, handing it over to him in a practiced motion.

It’s quiet between you as you brush your teeth in unison, his usual insistent presence comfortable to have around whilst you share silly activities. You take notice of his still undone belt, not thinking twice before reaching both your hands to do it for him. His breath hitches at the slight tug you give to the leather, caught off guard as your hands skillfully work to do it. He doesn’t stop his repetitive movements with his toothbrush, a mental reminder that he can’t kiss you with a mouth full of toothpaste, body leaning back only slightly to watch your movements. His heart flutters in his chest as he watches you, but it’s not long before you’re done with your task, hand resuming the motions with your toothbrush and Johnny has to recompose himself as he rinses his mouth clean and dries it on the small towel that rests on the space beside the cabinet.

“Thanks, bon.” He voices out once he’s done, hand resting on your shoulder in an affectionate gesture. His body leaning in to whisper in your ear, the action making goosebumps raise all over your skin. “Would love ye to undo it for me, too.”

He leaves the bathroom with a wink, a smirk playing on his lips. You halt for a second, hesitating on what to do before you start rushing to finish brushing your teeth. Once you’re done you pace towards his room, looking for him. You’re determined, you’ll make him kiss you right now no matter what it costs – who were you fooling, you might have to beg him to stop before your guests arrive. You find him sitting by the edge of his bed, putting on his brown, leather boots. You stop in front of him, realizing he’s still smiling as he looks up at you. God, he looks so good, blues eyes glinting with mischief as his hands tie the laces before he straightens up to hear what you have to say.

At your lack of words, he speaks first. “Got something in yer mind, hen?” He voices it so smugly it’s almost unfitting for him. But then again, he does have many facets to his personality.

“Would you kiss me?” You ask, being direct for the very first time and you can see it takes him by surprise. His hands reach for the back of your knees pulling you closer to his body, all the way until you’re sitting on his thighs – that’s a first too, and it makes heat settle in your core.

“Aye, I bloody would.” He states unceremoniously and you brace your hands on his chest as you get comfortable in his lap. “Why? Ye want some kisses, bonnie lass? Huh?”

The way he talks – honeyed, low voice – gets you flustered as you immediately remember his side job, you can only nod with the amount of thoughts running through your head – and the blood rushing down to your cunt. Johnny groans at your small answer, hands groping your waist as he quickly gets lost in the opportunity.

“No– No, luv. Use yer words for me, please…” It’s almost desperate the way he says it and it makes you buckle your hips automatically. His hands move to where your thighs meet your hips to urge you down on his swelling cock inside his pants once more. “Need t-to hear ye, hen…”

“Uh–” You close your eyes briefly and tilt your head to your shoulder, trying to seek the words wherever they’ve been thrown in your mind, wanting to be good for him. The moment builds up faster than you expected. “Please, Johnny… Wan’ you t’kiss me.”

That’s all it takes for him to urge you to grind on him again, harder this time. “Fuck, tha’s it, bon.”

Unfortunately, as he brushes your lips together to initiate what would’ve definitely been a searing, passionate kiss, the bells ring. You’re both startled by the sound, and you jump slightly in his arms. You’re getting up way too soon for the Scot’s liking, and he tries to pull you back but you shush his pleas. “We can’t leave them waiting, my love.” Using the pet name to try and soothe his frustration for not being able to kiss you.

You ask him to open the door in your place because you’re yet to put your shoes on and he complies, mumbling a curse under his breath whilst adjusting his cock inside his jeans – he tells himself you’ve only convinced him because you used a pet name, but he knew he was down bad for you. As he opens the door for his friends and invites them in, he realizes he fears his immediate future. He wonders if you’ll keep him at some reasonable distance in front of all the guests or if you’ll keep the intimate dynamic that has transpired between you two.

Suddenly he’s cursing every cell in his body, regretting the fact that he chose to throw a small party. That notion that he he could’ve been fucking you right now only the smallest detail in the book, what was banging in his head was the fact that you opened yourself even more then. He’s distracted as he seats himself with his friends at the sofa, nodding along their words even though he’s not paying them full attention

Johnny’s mind wanders far, far away from your shared house. Instead, he’s thinking about all the times he has taken you out or the times you’ve arranged small, homey dates for the two of you. He knows it isn’t going to help his situation, but he can’t stop the rushing thoughts that take over his mind, he feels overwhelmed by you and all the times he had you even if not physically. Knowing you were ready to take this step and further deepen your relationship had his hard cock leaking in his pants – love does weird things to a man, he figures.

When the bells ring again he doesn’t have time to get up from the couch, you come from the hallway pacing towards the door with your shoes on. You wave shortly at his friends before opening the door at the hall and he recognizes a feminine voice greeting you and making small conversation. Once you’re back, you finally greet his friend properly, telling them to make themselves at home as usual and offering a seat to your friend. Johnny expects you to take the seat beside her like you normally did, so imagine his surprise when he feels the added weight on the cushion by his side, the heat of your body embracing him as you snuggle to him.

He smiles at you, arm moving to rest on the cushions behind you as you all fall into a conversation as a group. Both your friend and his seem very happy at your proximity, not making any comments when Johnny would whisper something to your ear or how you’d take his hand on yours from time to time. That is, until someone brings up the famous, overly spoken subject: Johnny’s voice acting career.

You could hide yourself in a hole on the ground, the small mention of it making you flustered to your core – oh, and not because of him, but because of you. Because your friend is quickly adding up to the conversation. “Even though she refused to for so long, I made her hear one of his audios.”

Johnny snaps his head in your direction, expecting you to deny it. But you don't, how could you? You’re not one to lie like that, so you just kept silent with a hand covering the lower half of your face to try and hide your bashful smile. He doesn’t miss the opportunity. “Ye been hearing my audios, lass? Hm?” He whispers to you, leaning over your body just to spite you. Would you have said it to him on your own? He doesn’t think so.

“Oi! It was one audio, aye?” You say, all bark and no bite at all as you try to avoid the subject.

His friends laugh at your statement. “Aw, ya’ve been ‘round Johnny so much ya started talking like ‘im.” It’s a keen observation, one that has you laughing along with the others. You try to use the moment to change the subject.

“You’re right…” You trail off, head turning to look at Johnny. “Should I start calling you ‘hen’, then?”

It’s a poor attempt at making them pay attention to something else but it works, sparking a whole new conversation between them, the notion that you’ve listened to his audio quickly forgotten.

Time flies and, when you realize, they’re all going home soon. Goodbyes are said and hugs are shared. You walk every last one of them to the exit while Johnny stays busy tidying up the kitchen and living room. Once you’re back you can sense the shift in the atmosphere, something in the back of your head screaming for you to avoid pushing Johnny’s buttons, not knowing what to expect from now on. This was new territory because, even though you've gone on a lot of dates, neither of you have made any movement to turn things sexual.

Contrary to what you thought, Johnny doesn’t mention it as you approach him to see if he needed any help. Neither does he say something about it for the rest of the night. In fact, he’s awfully quiet as you turn the lights off and walk to your respective rooms, saying even less as you brush your teeth together. He still gives you a forehead kiss and wishes a goodnight but that’s it. You try to not overthink it as you close your bedroom door, eyes easily finding the black shirt he tossed on your bed when he was getting dressed earlier in the evening. You sigh, picking it up and pulling it over your head after having stripped off your clothes. You lay under the blankets with his scent all over you, mind drifting to when you were on top of him, grinding on his cock over your clothes. It makes a shiver run through you, but you refuse to touch yourself – if you did he’d know and that’s the last thing you want. So you just take a deep breath, air filled with his perfume and mind overtaken by thoughts of Johnny until you fall asleep.

It’s no surprise when you wake up drenched and horny. Your dreams had taken you to a perverted fantasy where your roommate had taken you to heaven and hell with his fingers, with his tongue and with his cock. It’s frustrating to even remember how good you felt and you try not to think about it as you pick your phone from your bedside table, unlocking it to see if there’s any notifications. A random e-mail from a site you shouldn’t have signed up in the first place – way too many unnecessary notices –, the weather for the day and, just a little bit lower in your notification bar, there it is, Johnny’s daily voice message.

You’re quick to open it, sinking back comfortably in your sheets as you prepare yourself to listen to it – it’s always an event, the best part of your day.

Johnnyboy<3 Voice message (0:17)

“Hi… G’mornin’, bon.” Comes his honeyed voice, the usual rasp from just waking up still clinging to his low timbre, probably recording the audio early in the morning. You check the time, finding the small, glowing numbers indicating what time he sent it: five twenty-three in the morning. “I already left for work, wan’ tae try and come back earlier today…” He usually leaves for work when the clock is marking past six thirty, so it’s nice to know he’s telling you why. “See if we can do somethin’ nice today, y’know?” You frown, checking the date.

Oh, it’s Friday.

“Hope you slept okay, hen. Text me when ye wake up.”

You groan, humming from the sleepiness in your body but not fighting the smile that takes over your features. He makes you so happy with such simple things, it’s kind of embarrassing and, matched with the state you woke up in, it makes you clench your thighs together. You move in the sheets just so they won’t be covering the microphone nor muffling your voice as you start to record your own voice message.

Johnny accesses his chat app as soon as he sees your message’s notification on his phone, already smiling even though he has no idea what you’re going to say. He checks the time, the clock marking six forty-two. You’re up early for a day off, he notices. He rushes to press play, excited to hear your voice – it’s the first time you respond to his voice message with one of your own.

Bonnie wifey Voice message (0:11)

“Hi, Johnny…” He presses pause right after he hears his name on your sleep-drunk voice. “Fuck… Okay.” He sighs and restarts the audio, listening to it all the way to the end, trying to ignore your adorable little hums that make his stomach twist with butterflies and his pants to grow tighter. “Hi, Johnny… G’morning. I just woke up… Have no idea what we should do today, but ‘m glad you’re getting back earlier. Have a good day, ‘kay?”

He’s sure he’s not in his right mind as he moves to record yet another voice note, but he doesn’t really care, he needs to get it off his chest. “Aw, hi, cute lass. Dinnae ye sound so sweet when you wake up… Mhm, wish I could hear it more often. Maybe even give ye some kisses for it, aye?” Love on ye proper goes unsaid, but his tongue is itching to say it. He pockets his phone after sending it, trying to focus on his work instead of your sweet voice.

It takes you some time to see his reply, having had breakfast, cleaned the kitchen and brushed your teeth. You smile at the mention of your shared moment from last night – the kiss thing –, replying with a simple text message to avoid any more commotion from his end.

You: Why does it sound like you’re getting off? Pervert

Despite his effort in staying focused, Johnny can’t help but answer you as soon as he feels the buzz of his phone in his pocket.

Bonnie wifey: Why does it sound like you’re getting off? Pervert You: Cause I am;))) I’m a pervert for you<33

He doesn’t have time to put his phone away, because you reply right away.

Bonnie wifey: That’s not cute Johnny Bonnie wifey: Seek help

He snorts, clicking his tongue before typing again and sending the messages without rereading them.

Johhnyboy<3: Aye I would Johnnyboy<3: But ye nae here tae help are ye?

Your movements stop entirely as you stare at your phone screen. Did he mean what you think he meant? Only way to find out.

You: What type of help would you get from me?

Johnny laughs at your answer, were you really that naive? He types his answers but thinks better of it, erasing most of what he wrote to reformulate. When your phone buzzes in your hand you're fast to see if it was him. You’ve opened and closed the app more than once, waiting for his message.

Johnnyboy<3: I think ye can get a hint, cannae ye? Johnnyboy<3: Or do ye want me tae say it?

You roll your eyes at his answer – he’s so predictable.

You: Nevermind You: Shouldn’t you be working?

It’s like he’s been waiting for you to ask, the sentence ready on the tip of his fingers.

Johnnyboy<3: Aye I am Johnnyboy<3: But I can make some time for my bonnie lass

You giggle at his cheeky reply, trying to keep the mood as you type your next message.

You: Okay pretty boy, I’ll let you do your thing You: I’ll be waiting for you to get back early

Johnny couldn’t be happier at your words. The way you said it so cutely made him want to drown on you – in between your thighs, most definitely. He loved to share a domestic routine with you, sometimes he’d even pretend you were a recently married couple – which always made him way too happy for just an imagination. He rushed to get his work done so he could be home with you as soon as he could, making good on his promise.

You try to spend your day quite unceremoniously, doing silly things throughout most of it but not quite shaking the remnant of your morning arousal. You get some amount of distraction while picking what you’ll do with Johnny for the night – pasta for dinner and then you’ll watch a movie –, however, your mind keeps drifting to him, to his voice notes and his audios on reddit. You curse that they are so easy to access, especially as you sit in your bed, your laptop sitting comfortably in your thighs and a tab with his audio links open. That’s when you see a very, very recent post. A ramblefap, posted yesterday.

r/gonewildaudio SoapTheBrawVA [M4F] i came in my pants [RambleFap] [Needy] [Dry humping] [Hand job over the clothes] [Sleepy] mentions of [Somnophilia] and [Cunnilingus] [4:32]

You wonder how he even had time to record and post yesterday, but maybe he didn’t. Maybe it was a random ramblefap he recorded a while ago and decided to post yesterday, right? Wrong. Because as you plug your earphones to your laptop and contemplate if you should press play or not, you realize you fell asleep too quickly the night before, you wouldn’t have heard if he did anything. You decide that the only way you’ll find out is listening to it, there’s no reason not to.

Nothing could have prepared you for it.

“Wee p-pervs, hi–” The moan that leaves his mouth catches you off guard, he sounds so wrecked and you don’t even know what’s happening yet, his whispery voice doesn’t fail to make you want to grind down on your sheets. “Guess who m-made me so horny… Aye, shit— My flatmate. A-again.”

There’s no major fabric rustling in the background except for what seems like a light brushing – he’s probably running a hand up and down his clothed thighs, or his clothed cock. He’s half whispering but he’s definitely talking really close to the microphone. “She’s probably asleep right now. I‘ve tae be quiet…” He slurs, sounding lost. His mind is probably struggling to form coherent sentences. “Wish I could s-slide under her covers– Ah— A-and… Wake h-her up t’my mouth on her fuckin’ cunt, fuck—”

The wetness you managed to accumulate throughout the day starts to seep from your panties and wets the cotton of your sleeping shorts, you think that even after a shower you couldn’t find the peace of mind you crave. It’s unsettling, how sure you are that he’s about to cum, sitting now crossed legged on the mattress, your body leaning expectantly to the computer even though there’s nothing to actually see.

“Hi, lass!” The voice echoes in your head and you hit the space bar of your laptop to pause the audio. Your head turns mechanically to the door, your eyes locking with Johnny’s. It’s involuntary the way you check the clock before looking at him again.

“Johnny! You really did get home soon…” Your heart rate has spiked up to the roof, you don’t know what else to say because everything feels like he’ll catch you red-handed.

He squinted his eyes at you, and you swear he’s opening his mouth to accuse you of hearing one of his audios. “Is tha’… one of my shirts, lass?”

You look down at the black fabric still adorning your body. “Yeah…? You left it in my bed yesterday…” You nod, glad that there’s at least some nonchalance in your tone.

“So, ye jus’ decided tae wear it tae bed?” He’s approaching your bed, knees brushing over the edge of your mattress. He’s still wearing his work clothes – black slacks and white plain t-shirt – his cock twitching in his underwear at the sight of you on something that belongs to him – you couldn’t look more his.

“How’d you know I wore it for bed?” You talk back, no hesitation in your sentence. It never fails to amuse Johnny how much of a brat you can be.

“Didnae ye?”

You roll your eyes, clicking your tongue. “I did. Does it bother you?”

He shrugs, shaking his head like it’s obvious. There’s still something glinting in his eyes, the way he’s looking at you makes you want to get on your knees and reveal all your secrets. You should’ve known better, you should have kicked him out of your already. “What’re ye doing, bon?”

“Uh… Jus’ some work stuff.” You nod along your words, pressing your lips together out of habit.

“On yer day off?” He questions with a chuckle. He can smell the nervousness in you, but he presses further. He drops by your side in the bed, body hovering over yours ever-so-slightly to look at your laptop screen, trying to keep himself from palming his growing erection. “Aww, would ye look at tha’.” You try to protest but he’s already taking the computer from you and bringing it to his streched legs. “Were ye enjoying yerself, hen?”

His tone is infuriating and you’d definitely be angry at the teasing if you weren’t absolutely embarrassed to your core. “Shut up, Johnny.”

“Oh, dinnae be like tha’, luv.” He closes your laptop and puts it on the floor, body turning to face you. “Ye haven’t finished hearing it. Wan’ me tae tell ye what happened?”

“No…?” Your voice is growing weaker in your throat, all snarky comments dying in your tongue. He laughs at your answer, moving the blankets so he can find your hips and pull you to him. You don’t show any resistance, moving to lay down on your side so you can face Johnny as well.

“Was tha’ a question?” He’s smiling, the tip of his fingers traveling from your cheeks to your arm and then your waist. “Could dae something else, if ye’d like.”

“Yeah?” You’re both whispering now, and maybe that’s what’s making the moment so intimate. Or maybe it was the overflowing tension and your obviously unspoken feelings, who knows? “Like what?”

“Aye. Like finally kissing tha’ bonnie lips ye have.” He’s moving to put a leg between yours, his lips already brushing yours as he moves to hover over you. His nose bumps into your own and he giggles in sync with you.

“Johnny?” You’re sure your heart is about to jump out of your mouth. Your hands find his biceps where you leave a light squeeze before moving them to his shoulders.

“Hm?” He hums, his eyes trailing over your face.

“I love you.” And you say it so calmly he thinks he heard you wrong.

“What…?”

“I love you, Johnny.” You repeat, voice trembling a bit at the force of your emotions. You couldn’t be more sure of your feelings for him, it just felt right to say it.

“Fuck– Dae ye mean it, bon?” He closes his eyes, voice not increasing a single pitch as he whispers it to your lips.

You close your own eyes. “‘Course I mean it, love.”

There’s no answer, at least not a verbal one. He sighs in what you think is relief before he’s pressing your lips together. He kisses you slowly, lips moving in yours almost in reverence, hands sneaking inside your shirt and you pant at the contact of them on your skin. Your hand runs through the short strands of his mohawk and he pulls away for the shortest second, changing his head’s angle before he’s kissing you again, until you’re both out of breath.

Despite the wholesome exchange, his cock is still hard in his pants, throbbing at the thought of what comes next. When he leaves your lips, his eyes are hooded and he has a dopey smile on his face. He noses your cheek, then your jaw and your neck. You can feel his smile as he brushes his lips to the spot underneath your earlobe sending tingles down your spine. You gasp, goosebumps erupting in your skin and he lets out a breath as you squeeze his shoulders.

“Love ye too, hen.” He mumbles to your skin, and that fact that he’s not looking you in the eyes shows just how vulnerable he feels at the confession. “I love ye.” He kisses your neck, then. Trails soft, wet kisses all over it and down to the collar of his shirt that’s wrapping loosely around your body. “Fuckin’ love seeing ye in my shirt…” He tugs at the hem. “But I guess it has tae go now, mhm?”

He helps you out of the shirt, your naked torso coming to his view which earns a groan from him, his legs adjusting themselves so he has both his legs between yours, his hands urging your thighs to close around his waist before he’s settling them in your waist again. “Screamin’ Jesus–” He gives you a short look and you nod, mouthing “it’s okay” and he wastes no time, cupping your chest in his palms. He thumbs at your nipples and you squirm a bit, legs pulling at his hips so he’ll grind down on you. “Fuck, bon, yer makin’ me crazy.”

Your hands find the hem of his shirt, untucking it from inside his slacks slowly. He squeezes your tits again, too lost in the sight of you. You help him take his shirt off as well, but before you can touch his chest and stomach he moves away from you and stands by the side of your bed.

“Aw, dinnae need tae pout like tha’, hen,” he coos. “‘M jus’ takin’ this off fer ye.” He moves to unbuckle his belt, but he pauses. “Actually… Ye should dae it, hen.” And he stands there, almost offering his hips to you like he’s some toy, so you sit up on the bed, hands reaching up to unbuckle his belt for him. He watches you with burning lust in his eyes, the bulge of his cock way too close to your face and you’re aware that your sleeping shorts are most likely soaked now.

Once you’re done with undoing his belt you pop the button of his pants and pull the zipper open, the action making the fabric graze his cock. He buckles his hips almost imperceptibly, his hands moving to pull yours away as he strips off of his slacks, and he wishes he could take a picture of your glinting eyes as you openly ogle at his boxers. He climbs on the bed again, laying down flat on his back and he pulls you by your hand so you’ll be sitting on top of him, the pressure of your soaked cunt making his eyes flutter shut with a sigh. “Fuck, bon…”

You moan, too worked up to even bother that you’ve barely done anything. He gropes your hips, his own bucking up into you to try and get some relief, and pleasure spikes through you. You grind down on him harder, the fabric of your shorts bothering you because they block the actual touch too much. You’re growing frustratingly needier, so you take your shorts off along with your panties, Johnny doing the same with his underwear. The two of you moan in unison when you grind your naked, wet pussy to his leaking cock, Johnny feels like an animal humping in you like that but it’s too good – you feel too good – it’s almost impossible to stop. The pressure of his hard length dragging along your folds makes your head spin, but you need more.

Johnny must be thinking the same thing because he’s urging you to get up a bit, one hand closing around the base of his cock to guide it to your hole. “S-shit– Johnny–” You gasp at the intrusion, his cock girthier than you thought it would be. The stretch burns a bit too good as you sink down on him, your eyes rolling back in your eyelids when you press your hips flush to his, your hands bracing on his chest for balance.

“Fuckin’ hell– Bon—” He moans, right hand giving your thigh a harsh squeeze before he helps you move up. He bites his lips at the first thrust, your breasts bouncing as you move on top of him and he can’t help but put one of them in his mouth. It unbalances you a bit but you keep moving, right hand closing around his pretty cross chain as you arch your back, his tongue brushing on your nipple before giving it a small bite.

“Ah– Johnny, f-feels so good.” You whine and he smiles, leaving you tit to move to the other, repeating his movements. Your hips stutter and he chuckles at your movements. He pulls back to look at you, moaning at the sight because you’re just so gorgeous.

“My bonnie lass, mine–” He grunts and doesn’t think before he rolls you two on the bed, changing your position. You yelp as your back hits the mattress but Johnny doesn’t give you time to recompose, snapping his hips to yours. “Fuckin’ m-mine, hen. Love ye s-so much…”

His thrusts find a faster, steadier pace than yours. His face finds your neck where he starts to suck and leave bites, trying to mark your skin. You brace your hands on his back, scratching down on it to match his rhythm. He’s too lost in the pleasure and so are you, he can feel you clenching tighter around him. “Are y-ye close, hen? Gonnae– Shit— C-cum fer me?” He whispers to your ear.

You hum in agreement, nodding as your mouth opens in a moan. He pulls back, kneeling on the mattress as he pushes your thighs so they press in your chest and your head falls back. “Johnny– Oh, God—” The change in the angle makes him reach deeper in your cunt and you're cumming before you know it.

“Oh, Christ, hen. Cunt f-feels like– Fuck– Fuckin’ heaven.” He moans, his movements turning sloppy, the squelching of your pussy being heard over your moans. Your wet walls clamp down on his shaft enticing a grunt from him and he leans down to smash your lips together. He whines as you kiss, feeling like he might cry as he cums inside you, his warm load filling you up so nicely you whimper at the feeling of it.

Your body starts to twitch from the oversensitivity because Johnny is still fucking into you, riding both your highs. His movements eventually slow to a stop and he hugs you with his cock still inside you. “Best Friday date night ever, bon.”

You laugh, arms hugging his shoulders as you pull him closer to you, the motion making him move inside you and you both let out a sound because of it – you wincing and Johnny moaning. “We should shower… We still have to eat something.”

He smiles at you, turning to press a passionate kiss to your lips. “Aye, we should…” He trails off, and you exchange a charged look before he brushes his nose to yours. “I love ye, hen.”

“I love you too, pretty boy.”

You shower together, more exchanging kisses and affectionate touches than actually concentrating in getting cleaned. When you finally move to the kitchen so you can cook dinner you’re both starving, but it does nothing to disturb the loving atmosphere between you. The two of you eat while watching a random movie you both have seen more than once and you barely pay attention to it after you’ve eaten – making out messily on the couch with the dishes sitting at the coffee table.

As you brush your teeth together that night, you realize you’ve never felt like you belonged to something so much. Already in his room, the both of you cuddling under the covers, you’re sure Johnny feels the same at the hum of delight that leaves his lips. He hugs you from behind, broad body caging yours as he slurs sleepy: “Yer my girlfriend now, aye, bonnie?”

You laugh, heart filled with love knowing you’ll wake up by his side. The notion makes you snuggle closer to him, chasing his warmth. “Yeah, ‘m your girlfriend now, love.”

a/n: hope you guys liked it, i wrote it in like 10 days whilst studying for my last exam lol. i hope the texting part wasn't too confusing, let me know what you think.

#cod x reader #call of duty #cod #john soap mactavish #john soap mactavish x reader #john soap mctavish x reader #john soap mctavish x you #john soap x reader #cod soap #soap cod #soap x reader #johnny mactavish #john mactavish #call of duty smut #cod smut #johnny mactavish x reader #johnny soap mactavish x reader #johnny soap mactavish #bel's works

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kismetlotts · 3 days ago

Text

cw: abusive relationship (not physically), breaking up with Simon, reader is not a pussy, Simons ego is big, Johnny comes to the rescue, taking best friends ex-girlfriend trope?, if you cant treat her right I will, mentions of sexual content, hickeys, angry Simon, mentions of cheating, I wrote this while being half asleep

You were absolutely fucking seething in fury. Red, raw anger pulsing through every envious blood cell of your body because he promised you things were over with her. Swore on lives of everyone he's ever loved, spoke words of rotten lies that fed to the image of himself he had made in your mind. A loving boyfriend truly a fucking manipulative abuser and this time, Simon wasn't getting away.

No more hook-ups, no more late night selfies in another woman's bed just because the two of you fell out- he knew your insecurity and played it like a game of chess and yet somehow; no matter what moves you took, he always knew how to win. Not this time, you'd throw the board before the game is even finished.

Slamming open the dark, wooden doors as the soles of your loved-in trainers slapped each tile of marble. A fancy restaurant that Simon and his friends knew well- full of prestige and pretention. A place where snobby losers and rich cocksuckers can converse without regular, hard-working people being in the way. Perfect for your boyfriend- and soon to be ex.

His gaze flicked to the door, slowly as if he owned time and could use it how he pleased. Reaction not changing in the slightest when he finally saw you almost like he already knew you were the one entering his private dining room. John and Kyle looked over in confusion, John's fingers tracing the stubble on his freshly shaven chin as Kyle leant back in his chair. The both of them oblivious to the drama that was about to unfold and to the way, Johnny's eyes struggled to leave yours. Catching his full attention with just an entrance.

"What the fuck 'you want now?" Simon grumbled, lips parted and looking anywhere at your face and you assumed he was embarrassed- not because of his actions, no, of course not. But because you were now seen associated with him. All the men in the room were in their best wear, harsh black suits of charcoal and a contrasting white shirt, the same shirt you ironed, folded and put away for him like a little maid.

And among it all you were stood at the front of the room, dressed in whatever crap you reached for in your wardrobe. To full of emotion to care, overflowing with feelings to the point you didn't know what to do with yourself but Simon would never understand that. Emotions were a waste of his sweet sweet time.

"I want to let you know, I'm leaving." You spat out, head held high because why on earth would you ever be scared to stand up against him. How could you shy away after he had abused your love and took your for granted? Clenching your jaw tight and wetting your lips, balling your fists up to stop and hide the small tremble.

The dirt of his pupils holding on yours a little longer than necessary, like he wanted you to say it again and crawl inside yourself- you would've, usually. You would've nodded along to his degradation before walking out silently, making sure to hold your breath until you're in a safe place to cry it out.

Repeating his harsh words when he would call you nothing then ask what you were, trying stop the quiver in your lips when he shouted for you to stop crying but now you weren't his bitch to tamper with. If you wanted to cry and scream you will- without his permission. You'd gauge his eyes out if the two of you were alone and you'd fucking enjoy it.

"Alright then, off you go?" The tone mocking and without even looking down at his chapped lips you could hear the fuckers silent smirk.

"I mean I'm leaving you. Dumping your ass? Breaking up with you because you're so self entitled you have to go fuck other women to hurt me and then fix me up to your standards? I'm done with you, Simon Riley. Officially over." Your shaky hands reached behind your neck as you unhooked the delicate necklace he had brought for you before throwing it with all your force. Hearing the metal clink and sink into his plate of food before turning and heading for the door.

God, it felt good to be free.

The doors shutting behind you with a thud and the same thud sounded in Simons heart. No woman- no fucking whore like you breaks up with a guy like him.

A huff of a laugh left his lips as he reached for the small packet of cigarettes on the table, digging a hand into his suit trousers for a lighter and feeling a soft sheet of sweat coat his back as he moved.

He wasn't scared, or embarrassed- you were on one of your pathetic tantrums again and by the time he gets home you'll have the bed made, food ready and your gaping mouth open and gagging for his big cock. You loved him- sure he tolerated you a little more than the other girls, but you really had a thing for him and it made him feel great. Made him feel powerful that someone needed- relied and only wanted him.

Popping one end of the cigarette in his mouth as Johnny's chair squeaked against the floor. Excusing himself as he cleared his throat and straightened his tie. Simon huffed out a laugh.

"Don't bother, she's fine- used to it." But for some reason, Johnny didn't stop walking.

In fact, his gentle stroll to the exit you had previously left from had a developed a little skip in it. Like a little happy child, knowing something good was about to come to him- come for him.

"Oh, I know." The Scotsman voice flooded with an edge of determination. A hint of challenge- humour, whatever it fucking was Simon's gut churned at the sound.

Johnny wouldn't try anything with you- he wouldn't go up against Simon because he knows his worth. Simon is just so much fucking better, he wouldn't fucking dare. Even if he tried, you wouldn't allow it anyway, you always came crying back to him. There was nothing for him to be worried about.

"Then where are you going?" His thumb traced the ridges indented in the lighter before pulling it down and harshly burning the end of his smoke.

Johnny's hands hit one side of the door as he pushed it open, looking over his shoulder with raised eyebrows because- mate, wasn't it obvious?

"To show her how a real man fucks, what other reason could it be, Simon?" The door banged shut behind him. Simon looked over at John who let out a laugh before looking over at Kyle who breathed in heavily before looking at Simon. The three of them were all lost but only one of them was delusional enough to not take it seriously.

Only Simon.

Opening the door to your apartment once the three of the finished up and paid. Seeing the pretty lamp on beside your couch and your figure sat there snuggled up. Nose deep into your book as you breathed softly, reading in the warm lighting. He barley looked at you when he first let himself in because he knew you would be like this.

All forgiving and back to being his precious baby again. Neglectfully dumping his blazer and tie on the countertop, barley folding them up as he ran a hand through his head, noting the silence. A groan left his lips- you were still pissed at him but a little sweet talk from him would do the job.

"Baby, I'm sorry- it was a one-time thing.." He mumbled softly, the lying in his voice so sickeningly obvious even Simon could wince. His large frame approaching you as he leant down closer to your innocent face.

Hair wet and freshly washed from your shower, all comfortable in your favourite pyjamas. His ears perked up at the soft sound of music coming from you and he figured you had your earbuds in. Fingers reaching out to move the hair behind your ear but his eyes locked onto the purple bite marks scattering your neck and trailing down further. His heart fucking dropped. No, you were his.

You turned your head to face him, brows furrowed as you swallowed down the angry words at the tip of your tongue you so desperately wanted to shout out and you bit the inside of your cheek to muffle the hysterical laughter that threatened to surface. His face dumbfounded, shocked and vulnerable. A side of Simon you had never seen before and a side he clearly hadn't either.

His eyes blinking rapidly like he couldn't believe what was right in front of him- like he had lost control of the one thing he had in his grasp. Damaging the artists brushes, breaking the record player not the vinyl- it hurt him because it made him feel weak, you took back what he operated on and you fucked his best friend. His throat ran dry and he opened his mouth to speak when a hand gripped his shoulder firmly with warning. Warning for him to watch his fucking mouth.

And when he turned and looked, there was Johnny MacTavish. Stood equally as wet as you with nothing but a flimsy towel on his waist and a face of pure, smug victory.

"Don't worry, I've got this one from now on, LT."

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midnight-shadow-cafe · 3 days ago

Note

tf!141 x angel!reader finding an angel that fell, “teaching” her how to live on earth and corrupting her innocence 🫣

Divine Intervention

 Pairing: Poly!141 x reader

Au: Fallen Angel! Reader x Human! reader

 Warnings: Sensual tension, implied corruption kink, religious themes (angel/fall imagery), mild dubcon-adjacent themes (consent present but reader is naïve), slow burn tension, swearing, possession/claiming, SMUT, reader falling from grace Author's Note: You fell from the sky and into their hands. But heaven had no idea what hell you’d walk into. Summary: You fell from the sky into their world. But instead of salvation, you found something darker—something tempting. Now, under their watchful eyes, your innocence starts to unravel. Masterlist MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+

——

The first thing you remembered was heat. The second was pain.

You’d fallen. You didn’t know how. One moment, you were high above—weightless, woven into the light—and then…

Ash. Fire. Earth.

It had taken them hours to find you.

You’d landed deep in the war-torn woods, crumpled at the base of a tree, shivering. Wings bent. Feet bare. No concept of where—or what—you were anymore. But when they approached, bristling with weapons and suspicion, you raised your glowing hand—

And healed one of them.

After that, they didn’t ask many questions. They just took you with them.

——

The humans called themselves a task force.

They were unlike any beings you’d ever encountered. Made of steel and blood and heat. They spoke in clipped orders and sharp wit, hands rough with years of war, yet their eyes softened every time they looked at you like you were something fragile.

Especially when you smiled.

“You’re not from here, are you?” Kyle asked one night, sitting with you on the couch in the base rec room. Your knees were drawn up to your chest, and you were watching the flickering lights of the TV like they might burst into flame.

“No,” you said softly.

He tilted his head. “Where then?”

You glanced up. Your voice came out as little more than a breath.

“Above.”

He stared at you for a long time after that.

——

They learned quickly how untouched you were by Earth’s ways.

You didn’t know what a microwave was. You didn’t know why people wore socks. You cried when you watched a video of a dog being rescued, and you asked Johnny if eating ice cream for breakfast was really acceptable.

(He told you yes. John had to correct him later.)

Simon rarely said much. But he watched you.

And when he saw how you flinched from loud sounds, how your fingers fluttered nervously when you didn’t understand something, how you leaned closer to the warmth of their bodies without realizing it—his jaw clenched a little tighter.

Because he could see what the others were starting to see too.

You were breakable. But you were also changing.

——

The first crack came with a kiss.

Johnny teased you constantly. Called you “Angel,” winked when you were confused, poked fun at how you thought “bollocks” meant something polite.

“You ever been kissed, sweetheart?” he asked one evening, sprawled on the edge of your bed, boots off, grin wide.

You blinked at him, blinking like a fawn. “No.”

His smile faltered. “Not even once?”

You shook your head. “There was no need. We were made of light, not… flesh.”

Johnny exhaled sharply, leaning closer. “Want to know what it feels like?”

You hesitated. “Would that… help me understand Earth?”

He chuckled darkly. “Oh, Angel. More than you know.”

The kiss was featherlight—his lips brushing yours, lingering, drawing back. Your breath hitched. Your wings fluttered violently.

And behind you, a single feather fell.

When it hit the floor, it turned black.

——

That night, you cried in Price’s arms.

You were shaking. You felt different. The light inside you, the one that always hummed quietly, was dimming. You could feel yourself becoming… more. Heavier. Realer. Human.

“I think I’m falling,” you whispered into his shirt. “Truly falling.”

Price didn’t speak for a moment. He simply held you tighter.

“Then we’ll catch you,” he said. “We already have.”

——

They were patient at first.

They showed you how to exist. Johnny taught you to dance, twirling you in the rec room until you were breathless. Kyle explained what movies were and cried with you during Wall-E. Price taught you how to fire a gun (you didn’t like it) and how to drive a car (you loved it).

But it was Simon who taught you temptation.

Not through words—but in the way he looked at you.

That first time you wore one of Johnny’s shirts, just long enough to cover you but not long enough to be decent, Simon’s eyes burned.

“You shouldn’t wear that,” he murmured.

“Why?” you asked, genuinely confused.

He leaned close, his voice a low rasp. “Because you have no idea what you’re doing to us, do you?”

Your breath caught.

Because… no. You didn’t.

But you were starting to want to.

——

One night, it all came undone.

It started with Johnny. Of course it did.

You’d wandered into the kitchen in the middle of the night, unable to sleep. Something about the air felt strange. Heavy. When you stepped into the light, Johnny nearly dropped the glass in his hand.

You were barefoot. The hem of your borrowed sleep shirt brushed your thighs. Your hair was messy, your expression soft with confusion.

“You alright, love?” he asked gently.

You tilted your head. “I can’t sleep. I keep feeling… things.”

“What kind of things?”

You touched your chest. “Warm. Low. Hungry, but not for food.”

He froze. His pulse ticked in his throat.

“You want me to show you what that is?”

You nodded.

Johnny kissed you again—but it was different this time.

Not soft. Not teasing.

Starving.

He pulled you against him, hands bracketing your waist. You gasped into his mouth, fingers digging into his shoulders. Your wings flickered behind you—and one more feather fell.

And from the doorway, three pairs of eyes watched.

——

Kyle was the first to join.

He crossed the room in three long strides, gently taking your hand from Johnny’s shoulder. You turned to him, lips parted, pupils blown.

“You want to understand this, yeah?” he asked, voice husky.

You nodded.

He kissed your neck.

Then Simon’s hands were on your waist. His mask still on, eyes dark and unreadable.

“You’re not leaving this room the same, dove,” he said, voice like gravel.

And then his lips brushed your shoulder.

You whimpered.

Price stepped in last. Calm. Composed. But his hands trembled when they cupped your jaw.

“You’re ours now,” he murmured.

And you knew it was true.

Because your light had faded.

But it was replaced by something else.

Desire. Hunger. Devotion.

——

They didn’t rush you.

Not at first.

You stood in the middle of the kitchen, body flushed and trembling, with Johnny’s lips still wet from kissing you, and the others watching you like men on the edge of hunger—but still holding the line.

Price came to you first.

His hands were warm and steady as they cupped your face. He tilted your chin up with practiced ease, gazing at you like you were something precious. His voice was low, gravel brushed with something softer.

“We’ll stop if you want to. Say the word, Angel.”

You looked up at him, chest heaving, caught between worlds.

“I… I want to understand,” you whispered.

He hummed, approval deep in his chest. “Then let us show you.”

It began with touch.

Simon’s gloved hands slipped beneath the hem of your shirt. His fingers moved slowly, reverently, tracing along the bare skin of your thighs, your hips, your ribs. Every time he brushed over something new, you gasped softly, overwhelmed by the sheer weight of sensation.

Johnny leaned in close to your ear. “You feel everything so deeply, don’t you?”

You nodded wordlessly.

“Good,” he breathed, and his mouth pressed against your neck.

Kyle kissed your shoulder while Simon’s hands framed your waist. It was a dance—four bodies learning yours, syncing breath, pressure, movement. They were worshipful. Greedy. Careful. Demanding.

Your shirt slipped away first.

Then your breath caught as Price whispered, “Lie back, sweetheart.”

You did.

They undressed you like a ritual. Johnny knelt first, pressing hot kisses across your stomach, his palms gliding over your thighs with rough, calloused reverence. His eyes flicked up to you, darker than you’d ever seen them.

“You’re so bloody soft,” he said, voice husky. “Bet you’ve never been touched like this.”

Your lips parted. “No. Never.”

Kyle leaned over and kissed you again—this time slower. Deeper. His hands splayed across your chest, fingers teasing your curves, feeling your breath catch beneath them. He moaned softly against your mouth.

“You don’t know what you do to us,” he murmured.

“I want to,” you said, voice shaking.

Simon’s fingers traced down your bare sides, lingering at the curve of your hips. He leaned down, his breath hot against your throat. “Then let us show you. One inch at a time.”

You were kissed. Touched. Claimed.

Johnny’s mouth worshipped you with hot, open kisses down your stomach. Kyle’s hands cupped your chest, fingertips teasing until your back arched. Price whispered filth and praise against your ear, his teeth grazing your earlobe. Simon stayed at your side, watching, stroking your skin like he was etching every shiver into memory.

When you cried out—soft and overwhelmed—Johnny’s lips never stopped moving.

“That’s it, Angel,” he rasped. “Let go. Let yourself fall.”

And fall you did.

Again and again, into their hands. Their mouths. Their arms.

They took turns.

Not with greed, but purpose. Johnny kissed your thighs like he was grateful for them. Kyle touched you like you were sacred. Simon growled into your skin when you trembled under his palm, and Price… Price held your face while you gasped his name like a prayer.

The night blurred.

Sweat. Warmth. Laughter. Whispers.

“Look how much you’re glowing,” Kyle murmured against your throat.

Simon kissed your ribs. “You’re learning.”

“You’re ours now,” Johnny said, pressing his lips just beneath your navel.

And Price, steady and sure, whispered, “You were always meant to fall. You just didn’t know what was waiting for you at the bottom.”

By the end, you were sated.

Stretched across soft sheets with four men tucked against your sides, your wings sprawled wide over their bodies. No longer white. No longer untouched.

But not broken.

Transformed.

And when you woke hours later—your limbs aching in the best ways, your chest fluttering with something warm and full—you felt… whole.

You turned your head and saw them. Johnny with his messy hair pressed against your stomach. Kyle curled at your back, an arm slung over your waist. Simon, mask on but lifted just enough for his mouth to press kisses to your shoulder. Price at your side, eyes open and watching you with something ancient and endless in his gaze.

“You alright?” he asked, voice raw from sleep.

You smiled.

“I think I’m finally alive.”

——

By morning, your wings were black.

Not rotten. Not ugly. Just… reborn. Feathers sleek like raven’s velvet. Still soft. Still yours.

But no longer pure.

And when you looked at yourself in the mirror, lips swollen, neck marked, body trembling—you didn’t cry.

You smiled.

Because this was your new heaven. And they were your gods now.

Hope you enjoyed! Please consider liking and reposting! -Midnight💜

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