#well! it may be awful but i wrote the words rib and flesh and tender so!!

[pancakehouse]

ok! i need to see 16 please! give me GUN

(send me a siken line and i'll write a mini fic inspired by it)

hi i LOVE u and you're my hero and a goddess and here is a gun just for you annie emmeline!!!!!

16. someone’s pulling a gun and you’re jumping in the middle of it. 

A voice drags Remus into consciousness. A shouting voice, to be specific; one that manages to cut through a strong dose of healing potions and the heavy sleep of a boy who’s just finished nearly clawing himself to death. 

It’s impressively loud, really, and if Remus currently had any control over miraculous things like moving his mouth or speaking, then he’d definitely be telling the posh prick to kindly shut the fuck up right about now. As it is, he can’t do much more than lie there and listen.

“I’m not fucking doing this every month, James,” the voice is saying. Shouting. “He- he’s just - do you know how this fucking feels? To have to stand by, and watch the person you… fuck, I mean look at him! What if- what if he-” 

The voice chokes off, and Remus frowns (or tries to). Something rattles painfully in his ribcage, right near the spot where bones are trying to mend themselves back together, where purple spreads across tender flesh. Where this voice, Sirius’ voice, hoarse and rough and cracked-open, tucks itself right into the mix. 

It takes herculean effort, but Remus manages to force his eyes half-open, right as Peter’s voice sounds from somewhere to his left. “Maybe we shouldn’t, erm-” he’s saying, shaky and nervous.“D’you guys think when we, you know, change…what if he…” 

The room goes quiet, and Remus’ stomach drops. Not because he fully understands what Peter’s talking about, but because he can feel it when Sirius tenses, even from across the room.

“What?” demands Sirius. His jaw is clenched, eyes blazing like he’s a sparked fuse ready to blast the whole castle down around them and delight in the wreckage. “What the fuck does that mean, you useless, spineless little-” 

“Okay, that’s enough!” James cuts in. Bravely (stupidly), he puts a hand on Sirius’ shoulder. If it were anyone else, they might’ve walked away with a torn-out bite of flesh, but as it is, Sirius only sighs, and shakes him off in a manner that’s not-quite-gentle. “Sirius, none of this is Peter’s fault. I know you’re scared, and we’re all tired, but you yelling isn’t helping Moony. And Pete…just, well- the point is that we are going to help him, alright? We’ll be there, and this won’t ever happen again, okay?”

Grey light streams through the curtains, and Remus wonders idly what time it is - what day it is. And he wonders what kind of person it makes him that he’s almost grateful for this, the ache in his body. For the moon and the bandages and the new scars and old. 

Because those are all things he has, and this is also a thing he has: Sirius, here, cheeks damp and shoulders trembling, here, for him. 

And he has James, pacing the floor. And Peter, twitching in the chair by his side. And Sirius, who’s so painfully beautiful even with dark circles and a rumpled shirt, turning to glare at Peter every few seconds, like he’s daring him to move even an inch closer, like he won’t be so forgiving as he was with James. 

Secretly - on days when his joints aren’t so bruised and the moon isn’t an echo rattling his skull - that look sends a spark through Remus. It’s something like his lazy smirk before mouthing off in class, or the easy flick of a smooth, pale wrist before his duelling partner is sent flying across the room. 

It’s like a warning, maybe, written in stocky bold letters: Get out now, before it’s too late. 

But it’s already too late for Remus. Has been for ages - going on years now. And he still remembers the exact moment he realised it: 

Third year, a Hogsmeade weekend, and a cushy buffer of two weeks on either side of the moon. They were all packed inside the Three Broomsticks, crammed in a sticky booth, sipping butterbeers, and cheering over the luck of a free day off. 

Remus remembers Sirius sitting across from him. He remembers watching Anya Patil and her pretty green eyes press her thigh into his, and the way she leaned in too close whenever Sirius spoke, laughed too loud when he made a joke. The way her hand trailed up his shoulder, in a way she undoubtedly meant to appear subtle. 

He remembers Sirius’ knee knocking against his own under the table. The sharp, swooping feeling that went through his stomach. He met Sirius’ gaze across the table, and they’d looked at each other for a long, silent moment. The sounds of the bar, their friends, it all dulled to nothing. 

There was something coiled and tense in Remus’ ribs, then. In the same spot Sirius has always held, from that moment on. Remus thought love was supposed to be slow and gradual - like in the sappy romance novels Lily’s always giving him. A soft fall, like into a riverbed or a pile of grass.

But this was Sirius Black. Everything from his cheekbones to his grin to his words were sharp like a knife. So it stands, Remus supposes, that loving him would be like a gut punch to the stomach. A reducto to the chest. It was someone pulling out a gun, and Remus thinking - Well, what’s one more shot to the ribs? For him? Alright, go on then. 

“I have to go,” Sirius had said then. He jumped up from the booth, Anya’s hand sliding awkwardly off his shoulder, and Remus’ stomach had sunk to the floor. 

This was worse than a moon; he’d take the broken bones and bruises and clawed-open flesh any day over losing Sirius’ friendship. He almost took it back, then, and said: Wait, I’m sorry, it doesn’t matter. I promise. It’s nothing - I’m nothing, we can just - 

But then: “We have to go,” Sirius amended. And then he’d grabbed Remus’ arm, yanked him up, and dragged him all the way out the door. Pushed him up against a cold brick wall, and kissed him with pillow soft lips and warm fingers that slipped under his jumper, curved into his side; right into the weak, tender spots between brittle bones and aching lungs and every ounce of reckless want Remus would allow himself to have. 

More than he should, probably. But then Sirius looks over at him now, and when he sees he's awake his face shifts from the glare he reserves for Peter, and the fear he reserves for James, and softens into something he maybe reserves for Remus alone. And when he grins, razor-sharp, it really doesn’t feel dangerous at all.

[heartofsnark]

Honey, I Laugh When It Sinks In. (Johnny/Fem!V) NSFW

Note: So, ya girl’s having whore hours. And I wrote Johnny getting his butthole reamed by my fem!V’s strap. 

Warnings: peggings, assplay, sex toys, oral sex, cum fixation, dumb jokes

Summary:  Johnny's got his body back, that's nice. Both him and V are super alive, doing great things. Those great things do mostly involved fucking each other and denying the fact they love each other; because they're dumbasses. But more importantly, now that Johnny can interact with real life object, V has a chance to fuck him with a strap-on. And doesn't that just sound like a fun time.

The fact that Johnny to some degree likes his ass played with is a secret to absolutely no one. But especially not to V, she’s not sure the two could have secrets from each other after their time being brain roommates. Dreams of his memories haunted her for months and the guy did a lot of fucking. It wasn’t uncommon to fall asleep and find herself in Johnny’s skin being reamed by Rogue’s strap-on or getting fucked after letting Kerry top for a change.  

There’s not a lot of mystery left between V and Johnny, to say the least.

But, for some reason, Johnny’s ass has remained uncharted territory for the merc. Well, maybe not for no reason at all. Most of their sex life has been while he’s a digital ghost rattling around in her skull and unable to interact with real life objects. And she never quite had the courage to see if that limitation included strap-ons and butt plugs, though she has a sneaking suspicion it probably did, she doubts Arasaka included a butthole exploit in their tech.

However, the two are no longer dependent on Arasaka’s ass related limits. He’s real, now, out of her skull and back in the flesh. His original flesh even, after they found it in the depths of Arasaka’s bullshit amongst the other bodies the corp had gotten their hands on over the years.

It was a whole thing; but he’s here now and they’re fucking again. Because that’s apparently just what they do. Probably because she’s hopelessly… infatuated with him and knows casual sex is probably all she’ll ever get. Because he clearly still loves Rogue and could never want her beyond sex-

V promptly smacks herself in the head, groaning as her thoughts begin to spiral. She twists in her bed, crushing a pillow to her chest. Trying to hype herself up into asking for a chance to peg Johnny turned into wallowing about her stupid fucking feelings. Because every thought about him turns into wallowing about her stupid fucking feelings.

She hears the shower turn off, having nagged Johnny into taking one as soon as they got home. Which means it’s almost time to ask and she wonders why this is making butterflies swim in her stomach, why she’s so nervous? The merc is no stranger to pegging or taking control in the bedroom.

Maybe because she does lean towards the submissive side of things and Johnny leans towards the dominant, the rockerboy having taken charge in most of their bedroom interactions. Maybe because it’s Johnny and the idea that he may not feel comfortable doing this with her, the idea that there’s a part of him he’d give others but not her, makes a pit form in her gut.

She drops the pillow and lightly smacks herself in the head again; for fucks sake she’s asking to peg the man, not asking for his hand in marriage. Not that she would ever ask for that… That would be weird. Her face is bright red at that thought, feeling like a school girl fantasizing about being Mrs. Silverhand someday. Mrs. Linder?

Both of those sound awful, actually.

There’s the padding of footsteps across her apartment as Johnny leaves the bathroom. The merc moving to sit at the edge of the bed as he comes walking closer. Her favorite geriatric rockerboy, condolences to Kerry, is absolutely shameless and as much as she chides him, she certainly doesn’t mind the show.

Johnny is completely naked, save for a towel casually on his shoulders as he ruffles it through his overgrown dark hair. Damn near every inch of skin and chrome on display to the merc. Her mouth dries as she watches a bead of water run down his stomach, past the inked skin of his ribs. V’s eyes then shift to get a look at his ass, her fixation of the night. He’s on the flatter side, to say the least, broad shoulders and narrow trim hips. But it belongs to him and thats all that matters, pancake ass or otherwise.

“You’re tracking water everywhere,” she scolds him, comfortably using her voice around him. Maybe due to left over remnants of his own brain in hers or just because it’s Johnny.

“Eh,  Nibbles will clean it up.”

“What part of  ‘don’t let him drink shower water’ do you not understand?”

“The part where you tell me what to do.”

“You’re lucky you’re cute, you know that?”

“Am I?”

He’s suddenly in her face, hands pressed to the mattress on each side of her hips, as he leans into her space. A smirk on his lips, damp hair falling into his eyes, and forehead nearly knocking into her own. She can feel the heat coming off his body, the droplets of water rolling off his skin and onto hers. And before another word can be said they’re kissing, drawn to each other in a way neither can explain, coming together like this as natural as breathing.

It feels like a tingle of electricity under her skin wherever her touches, every cell in her body begging for his tongue. The pure relief of feeling his tongue push into her mouth, to feel the scratch of his beard on her skin. It feels right, every time, as if this is just how they’re meant to be. Like a part of her soul is finally slotting back into place.

She wraps her arms around his neck, tangling her fingers in his wet hair as he kisses her, deep and heavy. The taste of cigarette smoke and mint gum still clinging to his tongue, the latter meant to help suppress the cravings for the former. Different from how his kisses tasted as an engram, but still so distinctly him.

V breaks the lip locks when his hands start to push under her shirt, a soft whimper on her lips, as badly as she wants him anyway she can get him, she can’t lose her nerve in asking for what she wants most tonight. His mouth is on her neck in a second, licking and biting at her pulse point, beard scratching the tender skin as she gasps.

“Johnny, I.. fuck,” she whines as he bites at the skin, “can, uh, fuck, can I… peg you?”

His mouth stops moving on her neck and that pit in her gut comes back, terrified she ruined something. Wanting to tell him to forget it, pretend she never asked, as he pulls away from her pulse point and she misses his touch, only a second apart and she’s starved for his affection. But then he pulls away enough for her to see his face, the grin on his lips, and it's a rush of relief.

“That what got you acting like a basket case all day?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Fuckin’ knew something was up; acted like you were a second away from humping my leg all day, then send me off to shower all by myself.”

“I wasn’t that bad.”

“You seriously spent all day thinking about fuckin’ my ass, didn’t you?”

“Not all day.”

“Jesus christ,” he lets out something between a laugh and a breath, she can’t help but giggle too, “well, then, show me what you got, princess.”

And she surges forward, clumsily wrenching  her fingers into his hair as she kisses him, teeth nearly clacking together in her messy excitement. Deep but quick, not wanting to spend much longer in this awkward position, she pulls away with a bite to his lower lip.

“Lay down on the bed, for me?” She asks softly when she breaks away, looking up at him with big eyes and a bat of her eyelashes. And she can see for a moment, the mischievous light in his eyes, the impulse to refuse, to be a brat. But he rolls his eyes and does what she asks, behaving for now.

“You’re lucky you’re cute, you know that?” he mimics her words from earlier as plops back with his hair against the pillows and she giggles, scrambling to straddle him. To have him naked beneath her.

And what a sight that makes. Johnny is unfairly gorgeous, something she’s thought for far longer than she’d care to admit. Long dark hair wetting her pillows, deep brown eyes looking up at her with lust, the messy scruff of his beard, the scar over his lip, and the burn scars that trace up the side of his neck.  Beyond the visual, as she settles over him, she can feel his hard cock smearing precum across her skin. Good to know he’s excited.

His hands squeeze her hips, the warmth of flesh and the chill of silver sending sparks up her spine. He squeezes tightly and the hint of a smirk that teases at his lips tells her he’s about to say something stupid.

“Hate to break your heart, V, but, this isn’t exactly what pegging means.”

“I’m not about to just ram a strap-on up your ass dry, Johnny, it’s a process.”

“Oh, I get prep work, damn, didn’t know I was that special.”

“Kiss me before I kill you,” she taunts, leaning over him to capture his lips. She pushes her tongue deep into his mouth, devours that distinct taste of him, getting another fill of it before she forces herself away.

It’s her turn now to latch onto Johnny’s neck, finding a spot to leave a mark not unlike the one he no doubt left her. The taste of his skin beneath her tongue, the heavy sigh of pleasure from his mouth as she sucks, bites and licks. Only when she’s certain, she’s marred his skin, does she pull away with a wet sound. Bruised skin looking back at her. She smiles at her bit of handiwork but can’t admire it for long, wanting to taste him again just as soon as she’s stopped.

V peppers kisses, licks, and bites across his skin. From his shoulder to his jaw, leaving faint little bruises wherever her teeth get involved. He groans and sighs under the touch, just soaking it in, as starved for it as she is. V can feel his cock stiff and leaking against her thigh as she nips his jawline, kisses down and across his throat, to run her tongue along the other side of his neck now. His hands grope and squeeze at her ass as she works him over, feeling the roughness of his scarred skin under her tongue. She gives the same treatment, sucking and biting every inch of flesh she can.

“Fuck,” he curses, rocking his head back further into the pillows, instinctively trying to give her more access.

V shifts her lower body, giving herself room to reach between them and touch him. She wants to make him cum before she even gets the strap in, maybe more than once, overwhelm him with pleasure and get him relaxed before she slides inside fully. The merc wraps her hand around him, feeling the heat and weight of his cock, wet with water and precum. He groans at the touch, a rumble she can feel in his throat as she kisses it.

“Might need an anatomy lesson, sweetheart, that’s not quite my ass,” he taunts, earning him a harsh bite to his neck and a tighter grip on his dick.

“Can you be patient for a fuckin’ minute? I’ll get there when I get there.”

“And will that be some time this year or next? Oh fuck, fuck,” he chokes on his words as she begins stroking him in earnest, using his precum to keep him slick as she works.

The merc has plenty of lube in the little drawer area under her bed, along with all her toys, but for now she wants to stick to the basics. It's just the first round for him and barely a precursor of what's to come. She bites and sucks his neck as she strokes him, first slow and languidly, just feeling every inch of him. Feeling the way he twitches in her hand, the way each stroke brings more precum, how he groans a little louder each time she gets to the head of his cock, flushed red and more sensitive than the rest of him.

Then she starts to get quicker, shorter, almost rougher strokes of her hand, working harder and faster to feel him cum beneath her. His breathing getting quicker, more curses beneath his breath, rumbles of them in his throat. He’s getting close, fingers sinking into her hip tighter and tighter, the other gripping the sheets as she builds his pleasure as high as she can with just her hand.

“Fuck!”

Johnny’s body draws tight, a flush across his skin, as he twitches once more in her hand and cums. White shooting quickly across his stomach and chest, cum sticking to his skin and her’s. It’s nothing compared to how much he’s left inside her before, no floodgates broke open, just enough to make a mess. She shamelessly licks and sucks off what he left on her hand, hearing him groan at the sight, the bitter salty taste of it heavy on her tongue. And she knows it should be gross to her, the taste of it, but she loves it.

Once her hand is licked clean, she moves over him to lave her tongue over his chest, catching the cum that landed over his skin. A rumble of a chuckle in his chest as she works her way down; lapping sweat, water, and cum off of him.

“Swear,  could bust into a cup and you’d down it like water, wouldn’t ya?”

“Fuck off,” she curses against his skin, already having licked the cum off of his rib tattoo, already chasing down drop of it that’s dripped down his stomach.

“Such a little cum whore.” He lazily rubs his hand through her hair, taunting her as she licks his stomach and hips clean of any cum, her face feeling like it’s on fire.

She pulls away from his skin, once she’s convinced she’s gotten most of the cum off his skin and the head of his cock starts to bump her chin.

“Spread,” she demands, trying to maintain some mask of domme-ness as she taps his thigh. Johnny bends his knee, spreading his legs slightly and hands grabbing at the pillow over his head; a painfully beautiful sight to the merc.

“Fuckin’ finally, about time,” he responds, because he’s still an asshole.

“Again, not going in dry, you’re not getting the strap quite yet.”

“Ugh….”

She pinches his thigh and he just grins, finding her annoyance just oh so entertaining. V takes a moment to peel off her shirt, feeling a bit of relief from the fever on her skin, open air hitting her sweaty flesh. And she can feel his eyes on her when she does so, brown eyes staring at her small breasts, following her pierced stiff nipples. As much as he’s bitched about her being a member of the itty bitty titty committee, he seems to always gawk at them when he has a chance.  She likes to think that… means something , but it probably just means he’s a slut.

V considers taking off her panties too, slick and sweat making them stick to her neglected cunt, but that would require far too much maneuvering to make it worth the effort. Especially when tonight isn’t about that. She’s able to balance on her knees to lean over the edge of the bed, rolling out the underneath compartment to get what she needs. And she can feel that stare now hoving on her bent over ass, not that he can even get a decent look at it from where he’s laying. But that won’t stop him from ogling apparently.

“So, when do I get to fuck your ass?” He asks as she’s grabbing lube and a butt plug from her sex toy stash.

“You’ve played with my ass before,” she says, kind of surprised, memories of his fingers and tongue in that specific hole.

“Haven’t fucked it yet, which just seems like a crime, quite frankly.”

“Oh no,” she rolls her eyes, “not a crime, we’ve never done one of those before.”

“Would you let me fuck your ass?”

In a heartbeat, she thinks immediately and is so happy he no longer lives in her skull.

“Hmm, maybe, but it's your ass on the chopping block tonight, I’m ‘fraid.”

“Yours is so much nicer though.”

“Yeah… that’s not saying much, gonna be like fucking a hole in a wooden plank.”

“Or you could just give me a titty fuck, oh wait.”

She grabs the strap-on she intends to use, a big cyan blue one that she’s been waiting entirely too long to try out. And she shakes it in front of him.

“I’m either gonna fuck you or beat you to death with it, I swear to god, Johnny.”

He grins and laughs, she’s laughing too. Unable to help it, their back and forth always bringing a lightness to her chest. It just feels like them, as they should be. Two dumbasses making fun of each other.

V has what she needs except for one other thing, she stretches to reach the night stand and grab her phone, having to lean over Johnny to do so. And she can feel Johnny looking at her funny, brows furrowed for a moment, as he watches her pull up the app she needs.

“Are you checking your fuckin’ email, what is this?”

She laughs, unable to resist a chance to tease;  “Oh yeah, just checking my texts, me and River are supposed to do something after this.”

“Haha, that’s so funny,” he says dryly, a bite to his words, as he suddenly grabs her hair and looks into her eyes, “mention the pig’s name in bed again and I’ll fuck you in front of him.”

His tone is on the harsh side, but his pull in her hair is barely rough enough to feel it. The threat and movement only serving to make her face scarlet and her cunt slicker. Johnny has always had some… jealous, possessive tendencies, especially in the bedroom when she pushes him just a bit. And she knew exactly what she was doing by mentioning River’s name specifically, the former cop always an oddly shaped sore spot for Johnny.

She kisses him, soft and quick, before pulling away. His grip not even hard enough to control her movements.

“It's an app that vibrates the butt plug, Johnny,” she explains, smiling as she quells his worries, though something in her still has to wonder why he has them.

And its faint, but she can see a hint of red come across his cheeks, pink behind the scruff on his cheeks.

“Oh, well, carry on then,” he says, letting go of her hair and running his hand down her back.

“All my attention is on you, promise.”

“Fuckin’ better be,” he grumbles under his breath as he falls back against the pillow, she doesn’t see embarassed Johnny often, his lack of shame truly astounding. But, when she can manage to get him flushed, it's adorable.

“You’re such a gonk.”

“Shouldn’t there be a way to sync it with your neuroware or something, I don’t fuckin’ know.”

“I’m not installing buttplug tech in my brain, Johnny, that’s a malware nightmare waiting to happen.”

“Didn’t have to mention that asshole.”

“Stop pouting, only asshole I’m worried about right now is yours,” she jokes, getting back to where she can comfortable play with him, starting to cover her fingers in a healthy dose of lube.

“Ugh,” he groans, “that was so stupid, its a miracle I’m still hard.”

“Being a slut isn’t a miracle, Johnny.”

“Is the way I do it- fuck,”  he gasps and curses as she slides a lubed up finger inside of him, “you could fuckin’ warn a guy.”

“You said you wanted me to hurry up, you don’t get to bitch about it now.”

He lets out a quiet groan as she works one finger inside of him, feeling the heat of him around the digit. V has small fingers, one of many drawbacks to her petite stature. One finger doesn’t even stretch him, more so just getting lube into him, so everything that comes next has an easier time sliding in. She leaves him empty for just a moment as she coats a second finger in lube and begins to work both digits inside of him.

Tighter with a second finger added, stretching him a bit more as she shifts and scissors them inside of him. He groans a bit at the added pleasure, but his sounds are still soft, her fingers not thick or long enough to give him exactly what he needs. More lube and she adds a third finger, which makes him curses, cock twitching as she does her best to prepare him.

With her other hand she starts to stroke his dick, earning a deep throaty sound, the combined pleasure making him nosier. V works faster, wanting to wring more of those sounds from him, As she works her fingers inside of him quicker, fucking them into him as deeply and fast as she can, a soft squelching noise starts to ring out combining with the wet slide of her hand on his cock.  His hips squirm and writhe, bringing himself down further on her fingers, just to thrust up into her hand.

“Fuck,” he’s reaching up and gripping the pillows again, expression tight as she toys with him, “fuck, fuck, V!”

His cock twitches in her hand she moves to wrap her lips around the head of it, swirling her tongue over his heated skin just as he cums, something between a curse and a growl as he paints the inside of her mouth white. That same salty bitter taste coating her tongue, more of it this time, that she swallows down without shame. She pulls her mouth off of him with a wet pop, her fingers leaving him with another squelching sound.

“Needed it straight from the tap this time?” He tries to sass her, but his voice is a breathy rasp.

“Gon-gonna make you cum one more time before I use the strap, alright?”

Something between a whine and groan leaves his lips, but he spreads his thighs a little wider, pushes his head a bit further back against the pillows. She rolls her eyes, just thankful his stamina is good enough to withstand all the overstimulation. V covers the butt plug in lube, a black silicone one with a flared base, tech inside to make it vibrate. Once it’s covered, slick as it can be, she gently pushes Johnny’s thigh a little big further out and slides it inside, Johnny cussing at the wider stretch of the toy compared to her fingers. There’s not much resistance to the stretch of it inside of him, every fiber of her dying to tease him for being a slut. But she stays nice, instead grabbing her phone with the app open.

Johnny honestly, probably doesn’t need as much prep work as she’s doing, Though, she is mostly doing it because watching him cum his brains out is a fun time. But he clearly is ready for the main attraction of the evening, her strap. So, she won’t drag this one out too long, she decides looking over the vibration settings and hitting the highest.

“Jesus fuck!” He yells out, not expecting the intense vibrations of the plug. His hips grinding and thrusting, squirming from the pleasure of it buzzing against his prostate. The whirr of the toy audible even through his groans and moans.

And she can feel her mouth watering at the sight of him trying not to whimper against the buzz of the toy, hips moving on instinct as it works it’s magic, hard flushed cock twitching with pleasure. V grabs his narrow hips and pins them down against the bed, feeling him squirm under her touch. And she takes his cock back into her mouth, but this time she doesn’t hesitate to swallow him down as deeply as she can, feeling the slide of it on her tongue, the head pressing into her throat.

“God damn it,” he curses and both his hands grab at the back of her head, pressing her down further, “you need more fuckin’ cum?”

She gags a little as he starts fucking her face, no longer able to keep his hips pinned, as he keeps her head in place. V relaxes her throat as best she can, just letting him use it as a fleshlight while the plug vibrates inside of him.  His pace is brutal, trying to match the intensity of the vibration as he fucks her throat.

“Such a fuckin’ whore for my cum, two loads not enough, huh, princess? Needed to feel me cum down your fuckin’ throat too?”

She’s unable to respond, too busy being choked on Johnny’s cock, mouth a drooling mess as he fucks her face. But each word, little comment and taunt makes her clit throb, makes her that much wetter. And the thought of reaching down and fingering herself is so tempting, but Johnny isn’t going to last long. Between her throat around his cock and the toy in his ass, if she bothers to touch herself, she’ll only work herself up more.

Sure enough, just a few more messy thrusts, then his cock is throbbing against her tongue and he’s cumming down her throat just like he promised. That familiar taste coating her mouth as she swallows every last drop, even when she catches herself nearly coughing on it.

He pulls his hands from her hair, still whining as the toy vibrates, V having to take a minute to come up for air and catch her breath. Once the lightheaded feeling passes away she grabs her phone and turns off the vibrating, Johnny’s body relaxing as he gets a break from stimulation, though not for long. She gives him a moment to adjust before softly pulling the plug out of him, earning a sound suspiciously close to a whimper. V puts the plug aside and grabs the strap, Johnny catching his breath, still hard and leaking by some miracle,  as she secures it over her underwear.

A bright vivid blue strap, thick and long. She slathers it in lube, no such thing as too wet, as she empties the rest of the tube over the toy. The blue silicone shining with the slick gel. Johnny watches her as she lubes it up, she can nearly feel the impatience radiating off of him.

“Any position you prefer for this?” She asks, wanting to make sure he’s as comfortable as possible. Johnny responds by rolling over onto his knees, ass up in the air with his face in the pillow.

“Should be easier like this,” he murmurs into the pillow and then chooses to wiggle his ass at her, like the weirdo he is.

“Don’t exactly have much worth shaking, Johnny,” she taunts, giving him a small sharp smack to the ass.

“Hey, you’re the one who wanted to fuck it so bad.”

She rolls her eyes and prepares to finally peg Johnny. She’s on her knees behind him and would like to line up her toy with his asshole, but… there seems to be a newly discovered logistical issue. She tries to raise herself up higher, but her hips can’t quite align with his ass. She’s well aware that Johnny is over a foot taller than her, but it only becomes a problem at the weirdest of times. She kind of assumed since he can fuck her from behind, she’d have no trouble returning the favor, but… alas.

“Can you get your butt any lower?”

“Are you kidding me?”

“No… “

“This is what I get for fuckin’ a hobbit, I swear.”

“Just lower your ass, please.”

Johnny does his best to bring his ass down as low as he can and with a little finagling and the knowledge that she’ll probably have awful leg cramps for it, she’s able to get the head of the strap aligned with his hole.

She grips his hips and brings him back onto it as she slowly slides it inside as deeply as she can. A long low groan leaves Johnny’s throat, something that sounds like the word ‘finally’ With a bit of effort, she’s able to start slowly thrusting into him, watching it slide in and out of him. Hearing each grunt and curse as she fills him, the squelching of the strap sliding inside his slick hole. Slow direct long pushes into him, her thigh muscles already burning from the effort.

V runs her hand down the expanse of his back, the freckled skin of his shoulders, and she wants to kiss it. To kiss his  back and shoulders while she fucks him. And when she does her best to lay further over his back, she can barely kiss his shoulders with entirely too much effort, she must look ridiculous. This is ridiculous, she finds herself giggling, stomach hurting as she laughs.

“Are you- are you laughing?” Johnny asks, voice incredulous and she feels bad to beg him for a chance to do this, but in this position it’s just not working well.

“I’m sorry, I just, I feel like a Chihuahua trying to hump a Doberman, Johnny.” She says through laughter as she pulls the strap-on out of him. And he’s laughing too, chuckling as he rolls back over, staring at her.

And she’s sure she looks ridiculous, red faced and giggling with a blue lubed strap-on around her hips. She buries her face in her hands, unable to stop laughing at how fucking ridiculous it is, she’s too short to peg that way. Then his hands are wrapping around her wrists and he’s pulling them down, back in her space. And there’s a soft smile on his lips, that forms soft wrinkles around his eyes, a gentleness in his gaze. He’s so pretty and she can’t even fuck him right, the world is cruel. Johnny kisses her through her laugher, a soft press of their lips, before he pulls away. He lays back against the pillows, like he was before the not so bright idea of trying doggy style.

“Here,” he spreads his legs, smile still on his lips, “let’s try it like this.”

“Thank you,” she says through a giggle, moving to try this again.

It’s much easier with him laying down on his back, able to raise his hips easily to meet the strap-on. And she can look at his face now, which she definitely considers a plus. She can stay in a comfortable kneeling position as she lines it up perfectly and sinks into him again. His teeth sink into his bottom lip, head shifting back as she fills him again. Comfortably so this time and able to see his cock leaking precum onto his stomach as she fucks him.

Her nails dig into his hips as she begins thrusting into him, listening to the wet sound of it pushing inside of him. She keeps her motions slow and smooth, not wanting to fuck him senseless quite yet, watching for ever sharp intake of air from him. Staring at the flush across his skin, the sheen of sweat across his flesh. The groans, the sighs, and curses he lets out with every thrust of the toy into him.

“Faster, V, fuck, I ain’t gonna break.”

“Know what I’m doing,” she says,  just barely speeds up, wanting to tease him, to drag it out.

“That remains to be seen, fuck, c’mon, harder,” he tries to demand, writing his hips to meet each thrust of the strap, trying to change the pace.

“Nothing wrong with me taking my time, patience won’t kill you,” she teases, getting just a little harsher with the thrusts, just enough to hear the slap of her thighs hitting his, the soft pap of skin hitting skin. And he groans, eyes closed for a minute before opening again, a look in them that she’s seen too many times before.

“Nah, fuck this,” he says, then she’s being pushed back, metal and flesh hand shoving her against the bed as the world shifts around her.

“Hey!” She yells out as she’s suddenly on her back, looking up at Johnny who’s now straddling her hips. But she doesn’t have it in her to be mad, not when he’s naked on top of her, with hair falling into his eyes.

The shift in position made the strap-on slide out of him again, but Johnny wastes no time, bringing his ass down onto it, filling himself with the dildo. And she realizes he’s going to ride it cowgirl… cowboy style. He leans puts his hands back on the bed behind him, for leverage as he begins to do just that, bouncing on the silicone cock, hard and fast.

“Won’t fuck me right, gotta do it my goddamn self.”

“Swear to fuck,” she squeezes his hips, watching the way his cock bounces as he fucks himself on her strap, “next time I’m tying you down and gagging you.”

“Look forward to it,” he says, a wicked grin telling her how powerful her threat really is.

Johnny sets a brutal pace, as he’s one to do, his weight coming down on his hips heavy and powerful with every bounce. He barely pulls himself off of it with every movement, lifting himself just an inch off the slick toy before he’s bringing his weight back down. Its desperate, frenetic movements, just fucking himself on the toy. Each movement brings the slap of flesh clapping together, the squelch of the toy pushing into him, and the soft grind of the strap’s harness into her clit through her underwear. Not enough to get her off, but enough to make her whine.

And she tries to meet his pace, to thrust up into him, but Johnny doesn’t give her a chance, every time his weight comes down on her, it pins her hips in place, leaves her to lay there and let him have his fun. Just to watch as he rides it, as it slides in and out of him, barely out as he’s just desperate to grind the toy into the deepest parts of him. Let her mouth water as she watches his flushed red cock drip with precum and bounce along with his body.

“Fuck, you look so good like this, Johnny,” she tells him, just staring and Johnny groans, grinding himself down onto the dildo.

“Yeah,” his voice is breathy, panting through the words, “like watching me ride your cock?”

“Mmhmm, so fuckin’ beautiful…”

Her words trail off vaguely, squeezing his hips, just staring at him. Sweaty tanned skin, the ink that marks his ribs and arm, the rough flesh of his scars, freckles she could map out with her tongue if he let her. Broad shoulders, muscled bicep on one side and solid chrome on the other. Long dark hair with those deep brown eyes. The thick trail of hair that goes down his stomach. The trim narrow hips grinding him down onto the blue toy, his thick cock that really does deserve all the hype he gives it.

“Christ V,” he curses, voice rough and she can see the flush across his cheeks again, “stop fuckin’ looking at me like that.”

“Like what?” She asks, watching him rub a hand over his face, why is he embarrassed? Does he not expect her to look at him when he’s fucking himself on her silicone dick?

“Like, like, fuck!”

V gasps as his body goes tight, cock twitching as cum splashes across chest and chin, hot on her skin. A stray drop hitting her lip, only there for a moment before she licks it off, Johnny goes slack on top of her. Body relaxed and loose as his orgasms works its way through him, cock throbbing as a few more dribbles of cum drip onto her stomach. After a moment, Johnny curses again, blinking as he comes back to earth. Another moment and he starts to pull himself off of the strap.

“Can’t say that went exactly how I planned, but-eep!”

V squeals as he starts ripping off the strap-on harness, throwing it aside without any care before he’s yanking her underwear off, air hitting her slick cunt. He throws her panties across the apartment without another thought.

“Johnny, what are you do- oh fuck!”

Before she can finish the sentence he’s between her thighs, legs thrown over his shoulder as he buries his tongue inside of her. She grabs onto his hair on instinct as he begins to lick up every drop of slick inside of her, painfully wet after all she’d done to him with no relief for herself. Johnny eats pussy like a man starved, making groans and grunts of pleasure against her core as laps at her insides. Like he could really lick away every drop of slick, even as each swipe of his tongue makes her whine and as she just gets wetter.

Then his mouth is at her swollen clit and she’s seeing stars as focuses in on the most sensitive part of her. Never knowing when he’s going to lick patterns against the bundle of nerves or suck on it, his actions are quick and unpredictable, but everything makes her cry out. Her hips squirm and grind against his face, hands unintentionally pushing her into her center at the same time. Johnny’s arms wrap around hips and pin them to the mattress.

“Fuck, I-I’m close, Johnny, I-”

A harsh suck on her clit, the scratch of his beard against her core, and she’s gone. Toes curling and fingers tight in his hair, a keening moan on her tongue as the world goes blank. Pleasure hitting its peak and overcoming every cell in her body, a mess of her wet coating Johnny’s tongue and chin, that he licks up without hesitation.

After another moment he comes up for air, leaving her boneless and panting as she tries to get her bearings back. She didn’t expect for Johnny to touch her like the, meaning for the night to be completely about the pegging, but she really should have known. V’s sure the rockerboy would take it as personal offense if she didn’t cum at least once during sex with him.

The merc is pulled up to the pillows and against Johnny’s chest, the two settling in as they catch their breath. She’s sure the apartment is a wreck right now, things thrown haphazardly, there’s lube in her bedsheets, but can’t find the energy to truly care. V buries her head into his chest, listening to his heartbeat, smelling the musk of his skin, at peace just laying here against him.

“Can’t sleep with your hearing aids in, you know that, V,” Johnny says, skimming his fingers over the shell of her ears, just barely touching the little devices.

“I can sometimes…” She whines, wanting to fully hear his heartbeat and snoring while she sleeps. .

“And you’ll wake up with your ears rubbed raw.”

She glares up at him, pouting as he takes her hearing aids out for her, putting them on the side table. He looks back down at her, then brings his hands as high as he can so she can see them.

“Good night, princess,” he signs and she can’t be upset anymore, the sight of his admittedly sloppy sign language always making her heart melt. A flush of red crawling up her cheeks as she nuzzles her face into his chest, unable to hear his heartbeat, but still feeling the rise and fall of his chest with every breath. Mururing a good night against his skin as she drifts off.