#todays entry is fully shit bcs i wrote for the wrong prompt and had to redo it but i kind of just

[bunnyreaper]

kinktober 5 - sweat

john price x reader

(18+/mdni, sweaty john price, mentions of reader being able to be picked up by price)

there's something about a hot man getting sweaty that you find so addictive--john price knows this all too well.

john is no stranger to hard work and blood, sweat and tears, but after a long op his priority was always on taking a hot shower and cleaning himself up to come home to you. it had taken him a while to realise how much you'd love it if he didn't do that.

in his downtime, if he popped round yours after a jog or a workout, you never failed to throw yourself at him--despite his protests of being sweaty and gross. during sex, if he found himself working up a sweat during the heat of the moment, he'd only apologise, not noticing at first the way your moans would escalate. but one post sex cuddle session had your secret tumbling free, as you all but buried yourself in his hairy chest and couldn't get enough of his scent--smoke and clean sweat, and you loved it.

and then john found himself not minding working up a sweat so much. he purposefully came to your place in his workout gear, or would find some DIY to do around the house where he could work up a sweat and watch you get all hot and bothered. if he could, sometimes he'd send you little videos of his workout, him heaving his chest with heavy breaths as sweat drips down his forehead. when he took you on a trip to a cabin one autumn, he insisted on chopping the wood himself, and of doing it right where you could have the perfect view of him grunting and exerting himself--then he made sure to pin you against the counter when he came back inside.

he had no problems at all indulging you, his natural scent almost an aphrodisiac to you--dizzying your brain and making you needy the second you detected it. sometimes the two of you would be hugging, only for you to catch his musk and begin whimpering into his neck. you'd practically grind against him, whining about how you can't get enough.

he'd bend you in half and press you to the mattress, face to face so you can see the sweat bead in his hair and the feral look overtake his features. it fuels something animalistic in the two of you, speaks to some deep primal need inside you both.

john would always leave worn shirts for you in abundance whenever he would have to leave, and would make sure your sheets smelled like him, that you smelled like him, before he ever left you for any period of time. he had to rub himself all over you, mark you as his. after all, if you loved his scent so much, you wouldn't mind smelling like him, right?

"need you so bad, love. need to make sure no other man comes near you while i'm gone." "won't be able to get my scent out of your fuckin' nose."

those are the kinds of things he growls in your ear as he holds you in the air, fucking you ruthlessly with his eyes pinning you, his damp hair falling over his forehead, his teeth gritted.