#Johnny drabble

[slyblonder]

Stay where you are

MDNI

Dom!Johnny x Sub!Reader (Drabble)

Warnings: pwp, sex(fingering),bodily fluid, Dacryphilia(if you squint), Brat taming, reader has a vagina.

“the more you move and squirm the longer i keep you here baby.”

Johnny was right, your squirming was pointless. He was already knuckles deep in your pussy, holding you by the chin so you could look at yourself in the mirror. You’ve lost count on how many times you came, bedsheets soaked with your cum. “P-please Johnny its too m-much…” You cry out while gripping onto his forearm.

“Too much but your taking my fingers so well baby girl, you basically sucking me in. You know you don’t want me to stop.” Johnny whispered into your ear, shivers running down your spine.

Without warning he picked up the paces which earned a scream from you. He could help but chuckle at it, feeling you squeeze his fingers as you came once again. “Let this be a lesson to listen to me when I say to. Next time I wont be so nice to let you cum.”

©️slyblonder

————

a/n:WOAH MUSE FINALLY POSTED SOMETHING EVERYONE CHEERED!!! lol sorry chat i started working and have been distracted and unmotivated to write since until i saw this video of johnny😭 i wanna get back into the groove of writing so hopefully ill post something else. accept this as my formal apology 🙏🏾. love yall take care leave some feedback, a like, a repost, or a request (PLEASE REQUEST SOMETHING).

[lovesuhng]

love

fluff, friends to lovers

Johnny was on his way to your apartment after receiving a message from you saying that wanted to show him something and couldn't wait until the next day.

You two had been friends for a long time, neither of you even remembered when the friendship had started. You had gone through a lot together, always present in each other's lives during the most important moments.

It was you that Johnny invited to the prom. It was Johnny who supported you when a boy at school broke your heart. It was you Johnny took for a ride in his dad's car when he first learned to drive. It was Johnny who was the first person to know when you got into the university you had always dreamed of. All of these moments showed just how close you both were.

After being greeted by your roommate, Johnny headed toward your room, entering as soon as you shouted, "Come in, the door's open."

"What did you want so ba—" Johnny stopped talking when he saw you. He couldn’t finish his sentence, stunned by your beauty. You were wearing a short red dress with small flowers on it, your face had light makeup, making you look even more gorgeous. To top it off, you wore a necklace with a small sunflower charm, a gift from Johnny himself. You were… beautiful, radiant. That was enough to make Johnny's heart beat a little faster.

“Good thing you’re here.” You jumped into your friend's arms. “Oh Johnny, I know I look amazing, but close your mouth because you're already drooling."

"Ha, you’re dreaming if you think I’m drooling over you." Johnny cleared his throat, trying to hide his nervousness. "Alright, tell me what you wanted to show me so badly."

"SURPRISE!" You turned your back to Johnny, intending to show off your new tattoo, but all he noticed was how much of your back was exposed due to the cut of your dress. "What do you think?"

"Huh?" The man seemed to snap out of a trance at your sudden question.

"The tattoo, Johnny, what do you think?"

That’s when he finally noticed the flowers near your shoulder, along with a small olive branch, similar to the one he had on his left shoulder. He knew you had always wanted a matching friendship tattoo, but he hadn’t thought you’d actually go through with it.

His heart raced again.

“It looks incredible!”

“Do you think Jaehyun will like it?”

“Huh? Jaehyun? Why are you asking that?”

“Because I’m going on a date with him in a bit.”

Johnny felt something he had felt before but never wanted to admit. Before, his heart would race just from seeing you, but now he felt a tightness in his chest, as if the mere thought of seeing you with someone else caused this. That was it. Johnny was jealous. You noticed Johnny was lost in thought. You touched his arm and asked, “Is something wrong? You’re acting so strange today…”

“You’re not going.”

You found your friend’s behavior odd. “What?”

“You’re not going on that date,” he repeated, looking into your eyes. You crossed your arms, waiting for an explanation.

“Why are you acting like this, John?”

“I don’t know, I just… don’t want you near him…”

You laughed a little, leaving Johnny confused. “Wait, don’t tell me you’re jealous?”

“Yes, I’m insanely jealous.” His honesty surprised you.

“Are you serious, John?” He only nodded. “But why?”

Johnny ran a hand through his hair, took a deep breath, clearly nervous. Even he didn’t know the answer to that question, or maybe he just didn’t want to admit it.

“I wish I knew how to answer that, but honestly, I don’t. Maybe I’m…”

“…Falling for me?”

That was it. It seemed confusing, but maybe Johnny was falling for you more than he should.

“Maybe.” A bit calmer, Johnny looked directly at you and finally opened up about everything he was feeling. “Every time I’m around you, I get this warm, fuzzy feeling in my stomach and in my heart. It’s like your presence alone brings peace and the certainty that everything’s going to be alright, you know? It’s kinda crazy, but I always want you close, want to keep hugging you, touching you, and especially making you smile, because that makes you even more beautiful than you already are. So, if this is what it’s like to like someone, then I guess I like you, __. Too bad I took so long to realize it.”

You were speechless.

Johnny’s confession had reignited a feeling that had been locked away in your heart for a long time. The truth was, your date with Jaehyun was an attempt to move on and forget your true feelings for your best friend. But it seemed those feelings had never really left your heart.

“I should go, we can talk later…” Johnny turned, ready to leave, thinking he had just made a huge mistake.

“No Johnny, wait!” You interrupted, grabbing his hand and making him turn back toward you. “I know things must be really confusing in your little head, but if you want, I can help you figure it all out.”

“And how are you going to do that?”

You didn’t answer, instead you stood on your tiptoes and gave him a long, soft kiss. If Johnny’s heart was already racing, now it felt like every carnival drum in the world was beating inside his chest. You felt the same, after all, this moment was like a dream come true. When the kiss broke, you felt Johnny leaning in for more and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“I guess that means… I like you too, John.”

You were still holding hands and Johnny pulled you closer, placing his hand on your back, making you shiver at his touch. Then, it was his turn to kiss you, with intensity, making you completely lose yourself in the sensation of him.

You pulled apart to catch your breath, but kept your foreheads together, locked in a deep gaze. “Still going on that date with Jaehyun?”

You shook your head, pouting. “I’ll explain to him that something urgent came up, but now…” A mischievous smile appeared on your lips. Johnny noticed. You took advantage of the fact that he was close to your bed and gently pushed him onto it. He sat, and you immediately climbed into his lap, his large hands wrapping around your waist. Leaning in, you whispered, “…I want to give you the kisses I’ve been saving all these years.”

With a huge smile, Johnny pulled you into a slow, passionate kiss, filled with a feeling that, even if he didn’t quite understand it yet, he was sure you were the only person who could make him feel this way.

Maybe this feeling was called… love.

[starrynctzen]

[9:28 pm]

johnny has no idea what the future holds for the both of you

but right now

in this moment

with you in his arms

placing kisses on your forehead

he doesn't care what the future holds

good or bad

he doesn't care what happens

as long as he's with you

[1-800-ye0sangspr1ncess]

an: was listening to ella mai's shot clock and here we are. part 2 probably when i remember to actually create rather than consume when i'm on here

you'd just about had it with johnny...

you'd had it with him thinking coming over to your place and occasionally having toe curling sex was a date, you'd had it with how he'd met all of your friends and you were yet to meet his, you'd had it with how loosely he threw around pet names like "mine and "my girl", whispering sweet nothings to you - completely oblivious to the effect things as simply complex as "only for me..." had on you - you'd had it with how he'd cockblock you and claim you as his every time other guys tried to hit on you at parties, how he'd make no efforts to tell people off when they made passes at him, but heaven forbid another man did so much as look at you and all hell would break loose.

the worst part of it wasn't that you'd had to turn down men that were just as hot as him. oh no, not at all. in-fact, you were quite pleased with yourself for having bagged the fine specimen. a devious smile that was a code you could never quite crack, you'd come to learn meant a multitude of things, his gaze was one that could do so much as to leave you a stuttering mess upon making eye contact, his height foreshadowed the sizeable member that lie beyond the material of his beloved pair of jeans.

there was more to him than the physical, he had manners, something of his you admired. how he respected both you and himself enough to freshen up before coming over, always waiting for you to give him the 'ok' to come in when you eagerly opened your apartment door to his smiley, clean and comfy looking self, nice enough to use a coaster when he poured himself something to drink - something he remembered you'd given him a stern talking to for not doing the first time he came over - using the ottoman rather than putting his legs up on the sofa or coffee table, offering to wash the dishes you were yet to muster up the energy to clean, how cocky and full of himself he was...how full of him you were, never missing the opportunity to call you his tiny baby, his size having you mutter incoherent babbles while his hips moved sporadically into you, having no qualms about wiping you down and opening a bath for you right after, how good he always smelt after coming out of the shower, the notable contrast compared to the room that both smelled and looked like a sex marathon had transpired.

But no, the worst part wasn't how perfect he was, the worst part was that he wasn't yours...

it sucked how much your heart melted when he'd do so little as to flash you a warm smile, it sucked how you loved how possessive he got of you, it sucked how he treated you like you were his special girl, it sucked how much you loved him...

it tore you apart knowing you had come this far with him and yet whenever you were asked on the status of your relationship, you'd be the only one that burned of embarrassment when you received looks of sympathy when you revealed he was merely your situationship. you knew you didn't have the heart to confront johnny about how he had practically dribbled and made a mockery out of your feelings. how each and every time you'd convinced yourself you were ready to cut him off, he'd snake his way up into the gap of your thighs, lapping away at the front of bravery you'd put up as if it were ice cream and all you could do was lay there to melt.

if you hadn't yet mentioned it in the last six months, what would trigger the sudden change?

maybe it was the fact that the soft patters of water had prematurely woken you up from sleep. reaching for his phone for the time, only for there to be a pang you felt in your heart as you read the crude notification from one of the girls you'd seen at a party you'd attended mere hours early, while your boy-...friend was in the shower. not surprised by what you had assumed were his antics, you weren't angry, or even hurt, just sheerly and utterly drained.

for the duration of the party and every party prior to that, you hadn't over-stepped and told anybody to back off from making any advances on him. it wasn't because you had faith in him, you couldn't stomach yet another look of sympathy, one of those looks that made it very evident that you weren't his, you were just his favourite.

................

an: man i'm so incredibly tired but i didn't want you guys to forget me lmao.... here's a little something of proof i'm not dead and whatnot...

[doiefy]

crimson watercolour // johnny seo

genre: body horror, biopunk, cyberpunk

member: just john lol sorry

warnings: coarse language (or not, I don’t really remember), blood, gore, self-mutilation (not mental health or self-harm related, it’s just a gory sci-fi plot point), barely proofread but I think it’s passable.

note: a spooky little piece i decided to do as i’m making massive changes to my ‘fight or flight’ series… partial spoilers but i don’t expect to be finishing the first fic any time soon, and i feel like it’s not for the tumblr demographic anyways LOL (ao3 here i come). sort of bloody and gory stuff ahead, you have been warned.

*****

MIDNIGHT IN THE WEST LANES OF THE QUARRY, wrapped tightly in the arms of sin and vice: Johnny had found himself in a gnarly predicament.

He slid to the ground spewing profanities, his backside meeting the metal of the door mere seconds after it had slammed shut. The entire thing shook beneath his weight, protesting further when he threw his head back against it. Blunt force hammering into his skull, pain burying deep into his head and racing down his spine like a current—just a precursor for a long, long night.

He did it again, to be sure, pitching backward until he heard a sickening thump. It hurt less now. Good. Then he brought the tin can back up to his lips and finished the rest of his drink, grimacing when he felt grains of sand on his tongue. Peering into the bottom of the now-empty can, he found jagged edges of metal soaked in a discoloured foam. A suspicious crimson stain sat at the bottom, as if the bartender—last seen suffering from the dryness of the Lanes and a badly-split lip—had spat in Johnny’s cup before filling it with lukewarm beer.

No matter, he thought, mustering a condescending sneer. They were no strangers to disease and illness on the streets of the Quarry, and he had a multitude of other issues to worry about: beginning with a group of men somewhere on the other side of the door, all hellbent on tearing him from limb to limb. Leraje had made good promise of carving his face into a gargoyle, if he ever got his hands on him.

Suppose Johnny would just have to do it himself, first.

His reflection awaited him in the bathroom mirror, rough and fatigued, somewhat of a hazy memory. Not quite him. Not perfect, hardly recognizable to most. A softer jawline and heart-shaped face that certainly made him feel foreign in his own body. His eyes were a little meaner than he remembered, bright red and angular like a pair of garnets. His lips were drawn back in a sharp scowl, not entirely to his liking. But it was effective enough around these parts, able to fit him perfectly into the crowd of lowlife party-goers and spiteful drunks.

Working quickly, he slipped out of his jacket and tossed it onto the counter. His shirt followed, pulled over his head in one smooth motion and discarded haphazardly. He debated, for just a second, whether it would be necessary to carve the ink out of his shoulder. For as long as he’d been in hiding, it was the one part of him left recognizable, never altered, never defaced.

“Short, scrawny, black-haired, blue-eyed. Bird tattoo on his arm.”

“Tall-ish, muscular. Black hair. Swallow tattooed on his left shoulder.”

For someone they wanted to kill so badly, they could never paint the right picture.

“He’s got a cute little birdie on his shoulder,” Jungwoo had once said—directly to Johnny’s face, completely unaware that his bounty was right in front of him. “Seen anyone like that recently?”

“No,” Johnny had responded with a snide curl of his lip. He’d tossed a handful of change onto the counter without regard, all whilst holding a blade to the neck of a man hidden below him. It was the small, wiry bartender he’d robbed just moments prior, whose clothes and identity he’d assumed when Jungwoo’s goons backed him into a corner. “Now get the fuck out of my bar.”

The Assembly had been hunting him for sport, like the uber rich topsiders hunted game in the summertime. Johnny had eluded them at every turn only by the skin of his teeth.

By his skin, flesh and bones, by the breaking and tearing of his own body to conform to whatever illusions necessary.

He studied his face for a few moments before taking the knife from his pocket: a handy contraption he’d built himself, with dual blades that could be deployed with the click of a button. Click, like a mechanical pencil. A thin sliver of metal emerged from his hand, gleaming, thrilled to see light again, already on its way to mark the canvas like it had a mind of its own.

It was quick enough. Two symmetrical slashes, one down each side of the face, from the undereye to the hollows of his cheekbone. Deep, painful, nicking something solid on the second stroke. The ink were a deep, glistening red colour, streaking down to his collarbone.

No sooner than he’d begun to bleed, the loose ends of his skin began to knit together. Cells into fibres into tissue into muscle—spiralling into place, regenerating, remodelling. And when they’d smoothed over into patches of new skin, there was a sharpness to his face that hadn’t been there prior.

Though not quite enough.

Again, the knife came. This time below the first cuts, deeper. Harder. Hitting bone purposefully. He hissed as a white-hot sear burst on his vision, lurching forward to clutch at the edge of the counter—before he flipped the blade around his hand and went for more. The thin scalpel now replaced by a thick blade, he drew. An artist hard at work, immersed in their vision, simply could not be stopped. A splatter of red met the floor.

He stopped only to observe. To critique. It looked too much like a past persona: the eyes too small, the mouth too low, the expression still far too cynical, like the bartender facade he’d used to fool Jungwoo. So he relaxed his brow, contorted his features to where he wanted them to be, used his fingers and a smidge of his own blood to mark where he would cut. This was detailed work, after all. He didn’t have time to measure precisely, surely, but he wasn’t a heathen.

Thud. A violent sound behind him; the door shuddered on its hinges, causing Johnny to momentarily lose control of the blade. He felt it cut deep into the corner of his eye and sever a half dozen vessels. Yet there was no fear—it wouldn’t have been the first time he gouged his own eye out, if he was a few millimetres off. There was only a certain irritation at the disruption.

“Someone in there?” a familiar voice called from outside. It was loud and booming, robotic in some strange way, almost as if it’d been fed to a machine first. But above all, it was taunting. “You’ve been in there a long time, friend… Do you need any help? The drink wasn’t too… strong, was it?”

Damn Kim Jungwoo and his timing. Clenching his jaw, Johnny ran the tap and splashed water onto his face. His blood splattered across the sink like crimson watercolour being flung across a canvas. With drenched hands, he slicked his hair back and redressed, then picked up his empty can.

He considered himself an artist in many regards. He had an aptitude for lies and trickery unlike any other. He had lived the lives of upwards of a hundred characters—all hand-drawn, hand-sculpted with the finest material, created with intention and nuance and all, never hollow or useless. The flesh and bone were only the first movement; performance was the second, even if it humiliated him to his core. Johnny believed himself to be an actor suited for centre stage and spotlight, but seldom could he claim his rightful place. Not now. Not yet.

When he flung the bathroom door open a few moments later, he emerged drunk and deranged, tipping over and grabbing onto the first person he saw. A symphony of distasteful club music and voices roared for his entrance, and he thundered above it, spitting and sputtering like an animal.

Within seconds, Jungwoo had flung him aside. They were here for the man with the bird tattoo, not this fool. So Johnny tripped past several party-goers and tumbled to the ground, yet never letting go of his tin can. Then he sat amidst stomping feet and the smell of sweat, feeling the symphony vibrate his bones, laughing until he choked. Part of it was for show; the Assembly wouldn’t bother with someone who looked like him. Part of it was to revel in his victory. In the victories to come.

For one day, he would cast aside all the characters and performances, then rise above them.

[lovemebutleavemewild]

Convict!Ghost and innocent!reader who signs up for a program to visit and write letters to convicts without friends or families on the outside. You believe in the program, believe you're acting as a way to anchor a man, who would otherwise be lost, to society.

Ghost pretends you're getting through to him, nods and smiles when you tell him you know he can do better, be better. Meanwhile, he's thinking of all the filthy, depraved things he wants to do to you when he's released, thinking of his friend Soap in the laundry whose specialty is smuggling contraband in and wondering if he can convince you to slip him a nice lil picture of yourself or maybe even a pair of your panties. Soap probably wouldn't even want his usual cut, so long as he can get a look too.

[spurbleu]

think it’s really funny to imagine the younger men of the 141 realizing that price is actually super good with women.

soap plays knight- shows off to gawking birds, kyle’s pretty boy eyes and sharp tongue garner plenty of attention, and all simon needs to do is sit in the middle of the bar, waiting till a sweet thing asks him ‘what a big man like him is doing alone?’

price isn’t as engaged. let’s his boys have fun, but for the most part prefers to hang back. enjoy his liquor and cigarettes- let them do their thing. course, doesn’t go unnoticed. which spurs their assumption it’s not a ‘he wont’ and instead a ‘he cant’.

“‘fraid they might not like you, capm’?”

“aye gaz, play nice. ye know ta old man’s sensitive.”

“lost his spark, i reckon.”

they rib him for weeks on end about being an old man, no game, out of his prime, ect ect. it’s all light and fun of course, and combat keeps them busy enough that the jokes start to be forgotten. doesn’t occur to them that price has just been biting his tongue since the first blow.

until- night off. pub lights, tallboys and pretty women. familiar scene, type of place that has been in nasty dreams for weeks. kyle and soap are assessing the room, and simon’s silently following along. it takes them a minute to realize they’re captain is gone- but not 10 seconds to find him again- with a sweet, gorgeous bird on his arm by the bar.

silently, they watch as he effortlessly charms her. they count how many times she laughs, how eager she is to hold his arm, how, within in minutes, they’re already cozied up on a booth, nursing beer and making eyes.

and why wouldn’t she? classically handsome, mature, cute smile, a rugged exterior with a gentle execution. it’s a no-brainer for her when he offers to ‘get out of here’, and hold the muscles that breech from his shirt. doesn’t catch the way he glances over to a corner of the pub as they make their leave, small smile tugging at the burs of his mustache as he clocks the shock of his men’s faces under low lighting.

soap and kyle’s jaw break, meanwhile simon lets out a barking laugh.

“old man’s still got it.”

needless to say, all three men said nothing about losing his charm at the next debrief.

[guppybibi]

thinking about johnny who just like–loses a part of himself after he got shot in the head, yes because he totally survived that. i don't know how to describe it, and neither does he.

he just spends a lot of his time disassociating, it creeps you out honestly. oftentimes you find him staring at the wall, the ceiling, and you. he doesn't speak as much as he used to as well, so you're still growing used to the silence.

then one day, johnny just goes missing. he's nowhere to be found, so you go out to try and find him hopefully. along the way, passing by the flower shop you coincidentally meet simon who was just getting out of the shop, a bouquet of flowers in his hand.

with your voice still shaky, you ask him if he has seen johnny at all today. and to your surprise he replies with "what do you mean, luv? it's johnny's death anniversary today?"

...who the fuck was in your house..for practically a whole year?

[homeofthelonelywriter]

Poly!141 x fem!Reader

“Love, are you sure we need all these lights?” You glanced up from your position on the floor and glared at John who stood over you. His usual commanding presence and persona immediately disappeared once your eyes connected. “Right…sorry. Consider it done, Ma’am.” A grin formed on your lips as you watched the man retreat, going back to where a bunch of Christmas lights were waiting to be hung.

Simon was already there, waiting for him, knowing there was nothing they could do against you during Christmas. After all, it wasn’t the first time they spent with you, but it’s the first time you spent together as more than just friends. More than just a team, a task force.

“Kin ah come in yit?” You chuckled at Johnny’s whine. “Not yet!” He complained under his breath before you heard him retreat further back into the house you all lived in. Kyle, who was sitting on the couch, watching you wrap the gifts you had gotten for the Scott, chuckled. “You’re mean. He’s really clingy today, just wants to be close to you.” But you just shook your head, concentrating on folding the wrapping paper without ripping it.

After a few more minutes, filled with fin paper, sticky tape, and bows, you called Johnny and let him know that he could come back into the living room. He immediately sprinted through the house, before you felt him slipping across the floor and into your back, hugging you tightly. “Fockin’ finally.” His face was nuzzled into your neck as he wrapped his legs around you as well. A laugh escaped your lips as you reached back, running your fingers through his mohawk. “Sorry, I kept you waiting, Johnny.”

“’ Is alright. Gotcha now.” You hummed and leaned back against him, but were interrupted when complaints were aired. “Leave some for us, MacTavish.” Simon’s gruff voice made you grin, and without hesitation, you stretched your arms up and in his direction. Easily, almost too easily, he pried Johnny’s arms and legs from around you and lifted you up, while you clung onto him like a koala.

“Let’s go inspect our work and then go to bed? Santa has to have time to come down the chimney after all.” You nodded, not letting go, as the Lieutenant carried you outside, to show off the decorations. A gasp left you as you took in the beautiful and colorful lights all over your house. “Like it?” John walked out the door, clad like a lumberjack, a look that did something to you. And he knew it. “I love it. Thank you, you two.” You quickly pressed your lips against Simon’s, before waving John over and kissing him as well.

“Oi! I also want one!” Johnny came sprinting out of the house without even putting on shoes, closely followed by Kyle, who was wearing shoes. With a chuckle, you gave them kisses as well, before pulling back and gazing at the decorations, as well as at your men. A grin spread across your lips. “Best Christmas ever.”

Part 2

[dmitriene]

continuation to this work

cw: possible authority, threesome, gangbang, comfort part with tears.

you're doing your best for simon riley, your lieutenant, one and only man you offer your body and soul to so rawly, hold out in your shaking palms for him to do anything he pleases, and you wouldn't refuse, as obedient, sweet like a pup he raised all for himself, accepting everything he gives you, any word, command, caress or a harsh, possessive tug.

shaped for him, you learn to arch your back sharp and wait, in his quarters, on his dark sheets, naked and presenting, doesn't matter if simon comes in tired, angry or almost boneless, he indulges in your sweet body anytime he can, calloused fingers skimming down the fragile curvature of your spine, pressing, circling at the tender skin, knowing that you're already dripping down your quivering thighs.

simon invited john to your sacred relationship, letting him indulge in your tight, pliable hole, always messy, stretched out around your lieutenant's thick, engorged cock and dripping out frothy globs of cum, soaking in the rumbled sheets below your twitching body, price doesn't waits anymore before sinking in, filling you pleasantly, cock heavy and fat, nudging against your spongy spot and making you claw forward.

nuzzling against simon's muscular thigh, his cock leaking precum against the small pudge on his stomach, you whine out, voice already slurred, stuttering little calls to them both, as john's drawn out, deep ruts of hips jolt your body forward, folding your knees against your tummy by the force of his body, slotting over your back, making you slump and cry weakly in filling pleasure.

and if you accepted price, sure there shouldn't be any problem if simon will invite two more, johnny and kyle, you hear their names buzzing in your ears, clogged, unable to comprehend anything more than the heavy weight of john's flaccid cock on your drooling, wriggling tongue, he's spent already, pumped you full enough so his seed would dribble out, now contented to just smooth his rough palms over your warm, hollowed cheeks.

body fervent, you're already too overstimulated to proceed, your cunt twitching and leaking loads of cum, but when simon pats down the swell of your ass, thumb spreading at the fat, revealing your swelling hole, purring how obedient and pretty you are, you can't say no when he asks if boys can have a taste, eyes wide and excited, cerulean blues meeting the honeyed irises, so easy to make their cocks hard in their cargos, as they marvel at the sight of you.

no matter what, it's still simon in who's hands you end up, snuggled tight against his solid, heaving chest, little hairs that dust his skin are a soothing caress against your wet cheeks, heat dissipating from your skin slowly, you cried, when it's all got too much, their cocks, their hands, playful kisses bordering on aggressive and back, rugged, tanned skin turning into ebony, softened, and then repeating, johnny and kyle both different sides of each other, but able to act together as if synchronized.

simon didn't made you wait when you started crying, worried, eyes crinkled, furrowing alongside his brows at such emotional display, he wasn't interested if they got enough of you, batting an urgent, heavy hand and making them all take a step back, john already dressed and confused, arms crossed tight over his chest, murmuring something to the boys, nothing you can remember, before ending up tucked under clean, cottony sheets.

when you start to recognize your surroundings back again, twisting to the side a bit, the arm around you tightens, muscular, wretched with tattoos, simon, you think contentedly, and seems by the grumble he let out, vibrating away from his chest, you croaked his name out, as he brushed a soothing thumb over your tummy, cupping at the supple skin, making you mold back against his body, mind dissolving back into the deep slumber.

you can be your lieutenant's pup, but he's responsible for your well being and comfort, and should you show any signs of being uncomfortable, hurt, or worse, simon is overtaken with a primal need, to protect, to heal, and to soothe, hide you in his embrace from the overwhelming world around.

main masterlist. quidelines.

[shotmrmiller]

I havent a wrinkle in this brain of mine for plot, so have some porn without plot instead :)

Maybe it's because Johnny has you blindfolded, but he feels different. He's heavier on top of you and feels a bit bigger inside of you. It stings more than usual when he finally pushes his cock into your sopping cunt, swollen and tender from the four orgasms he took from you with his mouth alone. Your inner thighs burn as they stretch wider around his thick waist. When his lips meet yours, as your tongues entwine, he tastes of bourbon. He's quiet too, which is very different from the usual filth he whispers into your ear.

But when he starts rocking his hips, all thought fades, along with the ache in between your legs. His thrusts are long, pulling out until only the tip of his cock remains inside. Then he pushes forward steadily until he's pressed firmly against the entrance of your womb— making you wince slightly at the pinch. He does this tirelessly until obscene squelches emit from your cunt, that pinch deep inside of you turning into spine-tingling bliss. Your skin erupts in goosebumps when his head nudges against your sweet spot, a loud moan falling from your lips. He mutedly chuckles, his chest vibrating against sweat-slick breasts and the coarseness of his chest hair grazing your hardened nipples only heightens your pleasure.

You feel him move away from you until his cock slips out, only to vigorously grab at your hips and pull you to him. Your upper body rests on the bed, while he sits on his haunches and keeps your legs spread with his thick thighs as he slowly pushes back inside. But this time, it's not all the way. Oh, no. You know exactly what's about to happen.

"Wait-" but he doesn't. He fixedly keeps you in place at the angle he wants, the angle you need, and moves. His thrusts turn staccato— short, quick jabs— and he's hitting your spot, the one that has you going cross-eyed behind the blindfold. Your mouth is slightly open, drooling at the corner of it as you're rendered helpless against his onslaught.

The fire in your stomach blazes, every snap of his hips pushes you closer to the edge, the coil within you tightening, your body tensing. You can hear him spit— can feel a warm glob of liquid land on your mons, and dribble down to your aching, neglected clit. His thumb collects the saliva and swirls your bud under the pad of his calloused thumb rigidly.

Your spine arches off the mattress so sharply it pops as you climax, a choked scream ripping out of your throat. Your nails dig into the delicate skin of his wrists, no doubt leaving behind red welts. He doesn't stop the stimulation on your clit, his hips never falter in rhythm as he prolongs your mind-numbing pleasure.

Body going limp in his hands, you hiss in oversensitivity and swat at his hands. "Ow, love-" but he cuts you off with a searing kiss before flipping you on your knees, and to the edge of the lofty bed. You're rising to your hands when his big, rough palm pushes you down— his intent clear. With your chest on the bed, he sheathes himself to the hilt in one smooth stroke and the angle he goes in with is nothing short of devastating.

If you hadn't been wailing, you would've heard the deep, guttural noise that escaped his mouth. You can feel him in your sternum, replacing the air in your lungs. He swiftly picks up his left leg, positions it on the bed next to you, and sets a merciless pace. The force behind his thrusts rattles your very bones, leaves you breathless. You can feel the meat of your arse ripple with every slap of his hips— can feel the bruises forming in your skin under his hands.

You lift your hand to feel where he's splitting you open, fingers encasing his cock, he stiffens— swells painfully inside of you then he's coming with a snarl. His Cock twitches as it spurts his essence into you, stuffing you full and then some because you can feel his cum trickle down your legs. You try to lift yourself with quivering arms but again, you're manhandled and flipped onto your back, a squawk of indignation silenced with an all-consuming kiss. His lips move against yours feverishly, as if he's committing your taste to memory.

He finally relents, pulling away but you hold him in place with your hands cupping his face and murmur an 'I love you'. The only response you get is one you feel, as he tips his head in a nod, and then presses a kiss into your sweaty temple before moving away.

Later, when you and Johnny are in the shower, you notice that there isn't a single scratch on his wrists even though you definitely dug your nails into him. And that reminds you.

"Johnny?"

"Aye, bonnie?"

"Since when do you drink bourbon?"

[beloveds-embrace]

For the Dukedom AU I noticed that the babies mentioned so far have been boys, what if reader had a girl? Just a thought ^^

Original post

A little princess 🥹 on a more serious side i can imagine reader having a moment of absolute fright when the baby is born and you see a girl. Doesn’t matter how nice and gentle John has been with you this far, how nice all of them have been; the irrational fear of John not being happy to have a daughter as his first child and thus taking her away from you. Your parents had often told you how unimportant a woman is, how a male heir is all anyone wants and should care about.

So at first you are absolutely sobbing and crying, which is really not good for you actually and the midwife is trying to help you while another way simply holds her, but you eventually devolve into crying for John, begging him not to take your little girl away.

It’s also John who pulls you into his arms, unable to hold back anymore when he can hear you crying like that after the grueling birth. Holds you, promises you loud and clear that he’ll never take your daughter away from you, no matter what. Holds you until you are calming down, wipes away all your tears and then helps the midwife situate your little princess in your arms, already so loved and adored.

(And spoiled, too. Best not to ask how much John and Simon have spent on baby items, and how much time and effort Kyle and Johnny have spent on baby proofing the entire duchy and ensuring your comfort.)

[lovesuhng]

More wines and confessions - Johnny Suh

couple: johnny x fem!reader genre: fluff; suggestive; established relationship synopsis: once friends, now a couple and more united than ever. a/n: I don't know how to write suggestive (you can tell, right?), but I saw a fanfic with Jaemin and decided to write something similar (whoever wants to read it can ask for the link in the chat and I'll send it). It doesn't have much of a relationship, but it was supposed to be a continuation of "Wines and Confessions" so I would appreciate it if you read it too.

Your body had just fallen onto the bed, sweaty, breathing unevenly, but a sincere smile took over your lips. Beside him was a man, or rather, YOUR man in the same situation. His chest rose and fell due to his heavy breathing, but the smile on his face revealed that he had had the best night of her life, just like you. The room, which had previously been filled with moans and some dirty talk, was now filled with the sound of your laugh. Johnny, even though he's still trying to recover, looks at you, confused and waiting for an explanation.

“It's funny that a few months ago we were childhood friends and now we're here in bed because we just had sex.”

It had been three months since you had made your relationship official. You had just returned from a dinner with friends when you started kissing Johnny's neck, you realized that was his weak spot when you saw him close his eyes, just enjoying the moment. It was a matter of a second before he grabbed you by the waist and gave you a passionate kiss, as usual, but you felt that there was something more that day. The kiss became more and more heated and Johnny extended it to your neck, exposed due to the low neckline of the dress you were wearing that night. Automatically you started to unbutton the man's shirt, running your nails lightly over his defined abs, making him stop kissing you and look at you deeply.

“Did something happen, my love?”

Johnny started stroking your cheek and analyzing every detail of you. “I just want to know if you're sure of what you're doing. I don't want to pressure you into anything. ”

“The only thing I know for sure is that I want to be yours. I love you." The little peck was enough to demonstrate how aware you were of what you were doing. You slowly removed his shirt, caressing his chest and giving him a few kisses there, making him close his eyes again. It was the beginning of a long night of love.

“Come here” Johnny called you, making you two hug each other. He caressed your hair, while you reciprocated by running your hand lightly over his tattoos, as if you were memorizing every detail of them. “Thank you for making me the happiest man in the world tonight.”

“And I’m happier to be completely yours.” You start another passionate kiss with your boyfriend. “But this is the first of many, there’s no need to get emotional” You laughed when you saw the look of false astonishment that Johnny made at that moment.

“You're pretty shameless, aren't you? But I'm happy to know you want more, after all, I know this was the best sex you've had in years.”

You patted his shoulder, earning a chuckle from the man. “Are you sure I’m the shameless one? Now get up, we need to take a shower”

“So, round two will be in the shower?”

“JOHN JUN SUH!”

[heavenbarnes]

dear god please I’m begging you on my hands and knees for more ghost soap reader action, you do it so right. I’m feral

“you do it so right” is a crazy compliment you’re going to make me AHHH 🫶🏼 (this is afab!reader btw just no pronouns)

simon knows his friend has a crush on you, didn’t have to be a fuckin’ psychic to work that one out.

it was written all over his fucking face from the moment he met you, still there when you wrapped your lips around the head of his cock.

“oh L.T, that’s fuckin’ nice”

you ignored the fact that, whilst you were the one with johnny’s cock in your throat, it was your boyfriend he’d chosen to speak to. you ignored it because you knew if you thought about it too long, you wouldn’t be lasting.

simon was practicing his patience on the other end of the couch, large hands gripping his thighs so he wouldn’t rip you off your knees and place you straight in his lap.

he was practicing generosity.

johnny had been whinging his ear off about how long it’d been since he’d had a good shag and he’d got a little too bold talking about how good L.T must have it at home.

“bet ye’ open the door and yer’ one s’already fuckin’ kneeling”

“that the first thing ye’ do when you get home? empty a couple loads?”

“gaggin’ for it with you, L.T- i bet”

simon had had enough, mainly because johnny was absolutely correct and he needed to go home and deal with it- but also because it was doing his head in.

the man had enough dirty thoughts about you to power the fuckin’ atom bomb and simon thought it might be worth putting it to work. there was gains to be made on multiple fronts.

johnny had one arm along the back of the couch and the other was at your face, fingers softly stroking your cheek as you made the most deplorable sounds.

somehow, you could make choking on cock a bit cute.

it wasn’t lost on simon the way your back was arching as you forced more of his friend into your mouth, your ass shaking a little bit as you stuck it out.

an invitation.

simon was practicing generosity but that didn’t mean he had to practice total altruism. there were gains to be made on all fronts.

so whilst you were knelt with your palms flat on johnny’s thighs, his hands coaxing your head in a rhythm, simon was on his knees behind you with your trousers around your knees.

two thick fingers took one long drag up your slit, prodding at your entrance and making you jolt forward. the sudden motion had you gagging on johnny, his head tipping back with a thick moan ripping out of him.

part of being so quiet meant simon would never say it, but maybe if you asked him at just the right moment he could tell you that, to him? he had the best view in the house.

best view in the fucking world.

johnny looked the picture of ruin as your spit dribbled down the side of his cock, matting his trimmed pubes to his skin. you were rolling your hips back into simon’s hand, reaching back to spread yourself a little for him.

“patience,” strong hand cracking down on your ass cheek. “you’ll get what you deserve”

your mouth was full but johnny could’ve sworn he heard you mumble “yes, si” around him at the order (it very well could’ve been “yes, sir” he was undecided)

when he didn’t think his evening could possibly get better, johnny felt a moan leave your chest and absolutely choke him up. his eyes flew open and he was met with a sight.

your eyes, squeezed shut and spit fucking flying out the corners of your mouth. simon- L.T on his fucking knees with his mouth buried in your cunt.

he thought he might die.

all the blood that wasn’t currently keeping johnny hard went straight to that spot and soon his head was spinning, resorting to closing his own eyes so he’d be able to make it through the night.

simon ate your pussy like a man possessed, two hands spreading your cheeks and tongue forcing its way into your entrance. pulling back only to spit on your clit before he dove back in.

giving it enough time and focusing on the sweet motions of your mouth, johnny figured it safe to reopen his eyes and take a another glimpse.

fucking silly move.

knelt before him was his L.T handling the biggest cock johnny thinks he’s ever seen this side of the internet, and he’s bullying it inside of your tight cunt.

johnny swears he didn’t mean to moan, it just slipped out the minute simon started to speak.

“hold tight, johnny- this one’s about to sing”

[criminalamnesia]

to hold everyone over until I finish traitor part four…

part one / part two / part three

I think kyle and johnny would 100% be the quickest to admit their fuck up, and I think they’d be the last to believe the ‘betrayal.’

the whole squad is fiercely loyal, but those two? those two didn’t believe it until price shoved the evidence in their faces; only then was it too damning to deny.

and god, they feel sick at the thought of what had happened to you. what they did to you. their teammate, their confidant, their friend.

sure, simon had taken point on the ‘interrogation,’ but johnny and kyle had helped. johnny had personally cut into you. kyle was no saint, either.

so when price breaks the news that you’re not the rat, johnny is sprinting to the room you’re being held in. he runs so hard across base that he thinks he may pass out when he finally bursts into the room, hands on his knees as he struggles to breathe.

and when he hears your laugh, he can’t help but think of how wrong it sounds. it’s hollow, untrue. eerie. unnerving. it makes him sick to his stomach.

he helped simon untie your limp body from the chair, and then he followed close behind as simon carried you to the infirmary. kyle was already waiting, eyes wide and lips bitten from nerves.

they don’t leave your side until price makes them. even then, the two are trading off standing outside the infirmary, eyes searching for you every time the door opens and closes. the doctor just shakes her head as she passes them.

they know it’s a long shot, but they have to try.

you’re one of them.

[moongreenlight]

Johnny is the kind of guy that you hook up with when you’re on a girls trip and fully expect to never see him again.

But it turns out he was on deployment so when you go home and start seeing him at the grocery store you think there’s no way it could be him. Has to be a trick of the light.

It’s not. When he sees you in the frozen aisle he’ll come straight up behind you and grope your ass like he has the right.

“Knew it was ye. Know you better from this angle than the front, anyhow.”