Whos Pussy Is This While Theyre Absolutely Destroying You

“who’s pussy is this” while they’re absolutely destroying you

𝖈𝖔𝖑𝖑𝖆𝖗𝖘 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖈𝖆𝖌𝖊𝖘

𝔞 𝔰𝔬𝔞𝔭 𝔪𝔞𝔠𝔱𝔞𝔳𝔦𝔰𝔥 𝔵 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔢𝔯 𝔰𝔢𝔯𝔦𝔢𝔰

𝖕𝖙 5 — 𝖕𝖙 4 𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖊

wc - 7.6k

warnings - 18+/nsfw, dom/sub dynamic, petplay (as always), thigh reading, pussy eating, johnny gives reader a piggyback ride.

notes - it's here! and my life and health is worse for it, but it's here! please don't expect the next part any time soon, but thank you to those patiently waiting ♥ also on ao3! ♥

"Told you, pet, this mouth is mine now."

Johnny's mouth continues its loving assault on yours, overwhelming you with his kisses. It's filled with the same passion as the first time, but now Johnny's heat seeps straight from his bones and into you. 

His hands fall to your wrists, his touch warm and caressing and pinning you ever so slightly in place—just enough to keep you still, not enough to really restrict you. 

It's Johnny who pulls away from you, an exhaled fuck falling from his lips—your eyes flutter open to meet his, the baby blues flooded with lust. 

His gaze flickers to your lips before he whispers. "I dinnae want to stop kissing ye." 

He steals your breath with both the words and the feeling of his lips when they return to yours, each slide against you as if he's stealing them, afraid he won't get another for too long. Though with Johnny, you get the feeling any second your lips aren't connected to his are ones he wishes for nothing else. 

"Yeah, fuck..." You sigh as Johnny pulls away, his grip loosening as his forehead settles against yours. 

Neither of you can fight the smiles on your faces, as you both bask in each other's joy, and the rush of endorphins and arousal running through you. 

Johnny always makes you feel electric.

He laughs breathlessly, eyes sparkling with mirth as you can see him try to restrain himself. "'Spose I should let ye get settled first before I ravage ye." 

"I have no complaints if you don't." You giggle in return, pressing a quick kiss to his lips before willing yourself to pull away too. "But yeah, probably a good idea."

If both of you had less self-control, you had no doubts the tension could have pushed you into rutting in the entryway like rabid dogs, only managing to bare yourselves just enough to have Johnny sink inside you. From the look in his eyes and the feeling of his hardness pressed against you, he wants to take you here and now—but he's nothing if not a gentleman. 

You have no doubt that your own glassy eyes and soaked panties betray your need just the same, and there's a desperate, animalistic part of your brain that wants to drag him inside by the belt so that you can fall to your knees before him. 

Johnny straightens himself up, taking ahold of your hand and preparing to head into the flat proper. "Want the tour of the place?" 

You nod eagerly. "Of course." 

You pull your hand free for just a moment to abandon your shoes by the door-—leaving them amongst the existing pile of boots, which Johnny only adds to with his own.

With your hands reconnected and fingers intertwined, he guides you into the warmth of the flat. 

"I mean, the place is tiny, so it won't take long." He jokes, as he pulls you in further and throws his keys on the countertop. "Tada, living room and kitchen all in one." 

You take in the open space around you—the room flooded with moonlight and a faint glow from under the kitchen cupboards, as well as a lamp that's lit in the corner. The ceilings are high, and the floors are wooden—the kitchen and living room combined to create a large, albeit cosy room.

"Nice and spacious! I like that it's open plan." You coo, as Johnny paces forward, and you allow him to guide you. Your eyes rove over everything, from the well-worn couch to the framed photos of him and his squad, or the pictures of wild-eyed kids that can only be Johnny's nieces and nephews. 

"Aye. Can have ye curled up on the couch while am cooking, terribly, mind ye." Johnny nudges you playfully with his hip, drawing your attention back to the radiant smile on his face.

You follow him down a small corridor with doors on both sides. The door to the left opens into a bathroom with a large, walk-in, waterfall shower, illuminated with soft lighting when Johnny flicks the switch.

"Bathroom, with no bath." He explains, before his expression flickers to something briefly resembling a kicked puppy. "Bit sad about tha'." 

"Are you a bath man?" You ask, your mind visualising the muscular man indulging in rich aromas and piles of bubbles—it serves as quite the entertaining mental image. And then your mind flickers to him in the shower, water cascading down his toned body, knots in his shoulders just begging for relaxation...

"Absolutely. And if yer not into baths, I think I know just the way to convert ye." His hand squeezes yours playfully as he throws you a wink, and you're left wondering if he could somehow sense that your thoughts have turned dirty.

"I like the sound of that." 

Finally, you cross the hallway into the bedroom—a room filled with a mixture of earth tones and navy blues, the place is clean and tidy, beside the pile of clothes and various other things piled onto the chair in the corner. 

"And where we'll be staying, unless you'd prefer I sleep on the couch." 

You don't miss the sheepish look on his face, the look that tells you that sleeping apart from you is the last thing he'd rather do tonight—but you know that he'd do it in a heartbeat if you asked. 

Stepping closer into his space, you lace your other hand in his and sway them back and forth, a playful smile tugging at your lips. "I will be falling asleep on your chest. That's non-negotiable, Johnny." 

"I'm glad tae hear." He pushes himself forward to press a kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering for a moment after. "Can be ma little blanket for the night." 

"... But aye, that's about it." He gestures to the room with one of your intertwined hands.

"It's cosy here, I like it." You comment with a smile, taking in the welcoming atmosphere of the room—the hints that the place is lived in. 

Johnny comments as he moves closer to your ear—his breath warm as it flutters over your skin. "Hopefully, the first visit of many." 

"I hope so too. I'll be leaving my toothbrush here before you know it." 

You pull yourself from Johnny's hold, falling back onto the mattress and allowing your dress to ride up your legs as you prop yourself up on your elbows and stare at Johnny temptingly.

Your eyes trail over his body, savouring every delicious inch that is John MacTavish. His eyes chart a similar path, following up your exposed thighs. 

"Anyway, I think I'm all settled in now." You purr, trying to coax him back into kissing you like he was earlier. 

"Steamin' jesus." He all but growls as he comes closer, crawling over you and leaning down near to your lips as his arms cage you in. "Someone's a needy pup." 

With his face hovering inches from yours, you relish the opportunity to drink him all in. His baby blues sparkle with lust and fondness as they peer down at you, slightly hidden behind hooded lids. His eyelashes flutter so prettily, bouncing off his sweet, stubbled cheeks. 

Your eyes fall to his soft lips, the scar underlining them that you want to trace your thumb and tongue across—learn the story of. 

"Kiss me again, Johnny, please." You whisper softly, as one of his hands begins to stroke the top of your head. 

"Askin' so nicely, how can I say no?" He smirks one last time before closing the gap, both of your eyes fluttering shut as your lips finally reconnect. 

There's never a moment when Johnny's lips don't feel heavenly—he kisses you like a man starved and allows his hips to falter and press against your core. His clothed erection rubs against your centre, the denim pushing across your thin panties and sending your brain spinning. 

It's instinct when you buck your hips up into his, chasing more contact from his throbbing length. The more time you spend around Johnny, the more intoxicated you become on his presence—your hesitations melt away, replaced by an overwhelming need that's only sated when Johnny is pressed against you. 

The moan that leaves your throat is entirely accidental, but causes Johnny to buck against you and groan right back at you—after the moment of slipped control, he stills.  

"Bonnie..." Johnny pulls away, a soft, hesitant look in his eyes as he tries his hardest to hold back. "I meant what I said about not expecting anything." 

For a moment, you feel awful, like a temptress pushing him to the limits of his self-restraint—but your own desires swirl inside you dangerously, with every moment with Johnny only adding fuel to the fire. 

The fact Johnny can want you so passionately and still remain firmly in charge of the both of you only reinforces the disgustingly puppylike crush you have on him.

"I know. I'm just enjoying kissing you properly." You sigh before taking a deep breath to release some of your pent-up arousal. 

"Aye, me too." He continues to stroke at the top of your head as his thumb brushes across your warm cheek, making you shiver. "Hard to keep ma hands to myself." 

"Yeah, tell me about it." Your hands rake down his chest, slowing once you feel the hardness of his abs beneath the cotton.

Johnny's hand falls to clutch your wrists, stilling your exploration of his body. The look in his eyes is all cheek and charm. "I should get you fed." 

"Boo."

The look turns ever so slightly warning. "Pup, Johnny knows best, aye?" 

"To the kitchen!" You announce cheerfully, breaking through the tension of the moment and redirecting the both of you before you end up wrapping your legs around Johnny and refusing to let go until he's spilled himself inside you.

With a breathy laugh, Johnny stands from the bed, turning around and offering his back for you to climb upon. When he finally has you safely stowed on him, his fingers gripping at your thighs as your arms wrap around his neck, he carries you to the kitchen.

Johnny doesn't let you back down to the floor immediately, instead heading to the fridge with you still clinging to him like a koala.

"Probably should've asked ye what toppings you wanted, but I just grabbed a bit of everything." He explains as he opens the door and reveals a shelf bursting with cheeses, vegetables, and meats. 

You quickly scan the shelf for any nasty surprises like the anchovies or olives Johnny had mentioned on the way over, and find yourself relieved that everything on offer is delicious—with some of your favourite pizza toppings even there. "So much choice, and nothing disgusting, I'm surprised, Johnny." 

"Hey now, I do have taste... sometimes." The pout in his voice is evident as he shuffles you further up his back before removing the hold of one of his hands to start removing the dough, sauce, and toppings so he can set them atop the counter. 

Your eyes fall to the rest of the shelves, with the vast majority of them being stacked with the same plastic poultry liners. "Johnny, your fridge is 90% plain chicken breast, I'm not sure that I trust that." 

"Well, actually, some of that is turkey." He smirks, until you lean forward into his sight-line with a grumpy look on your face. "Dinnae go glaring at me, bonnie girl." 

"Clearly I need to be fed so I have less of an attitude." You huff, playfully teasing him about his earlier interruption to your fun.

Johnny finally lowers you to the ground, setting you beside him before he grabs the final few ingredients. "I'm working on it!"

With everything ready and set out, you start to plan out the deliciousness that will be your creation. Everything Johnny picked out is fresh and delicious, and almost calling out to you to be a part of your meal. You rush to wash your hands so you can get started. 

"I feel like I'm gonna pick too many toppings and my pizza will just be a mess." You explain as you start to open a few packets while Johnny moves to the sink. "What are you having?" 

"Lil bit of everything, why no'?" He shrugs, the smile on his face wide and infectious.

"I'm so excited!" You giggle, already thoroughly enjoying your little pizza party with Johnny. As you watch Johnny dry his hands and then begin to work the dough, a mischievous thought pops into your head. "It's a shame we didn't make the dough from scratch, though." 

As soon as Johnny looks at you, he knows exactly where your thoughts have headed, and his face splits with an amused grin. "So ye could throw flour at me?"

"Flour fight, exactly." You nod. 

Johnny sets down the dough, moving into your space and grabbing you by the hips to spin you to face him. He looms over you— grin now devilish, eyes sharp and tone teasing. "I'd win, hen, dinnae think otherwise." 

You bite your lip, staring up at Johnny and shivering under his touch. "Hmm, you'd be covered in flour and looking so good, so I think I'd really be the winner."

"Next time, then." He purrs as he presses a soft kiss to your forehead. He pulls away after a few moments, yet lingers in your space and sends heat rushing through your veins.

"I suppose I could still smear sauce all over you." You tease, your arousal making you even more daring and flirtatious.

"Just askin' fer trouble with tha'." He growls, pulling you flush against his body as he pulls his lip between his teeth.

"Oh no... how terrible." 

One hand moves in a flash, slapping lightly and groping at your ass as Johnny rubs himself against you. "Ye won't be saying that when yer arse is red raw." He groans in your ear. 

"You wouldn't be spanking me when I'm too busy licking the sauce off your face." You giggle, squirming under his touch. Brattiness isn't your usual go-to around Johnny, but sometimes he just inspires it.

"Dirty fuckin' pup." He growls, his voice almost feral and animalistic in the way it rips from his throat.

He holds your gaze, commanding you with just a look as he removes his hands and leans to the counter. He returns with the jar, popping open the lid with ease before offering it to you. 

"Go awn then." He commands, his expression serious as he urges the jar closer to you. 

You glance between him and the jar, uncertain of what he's asking for a moment before the realisation hits—he's making you cover him in the sauce.  

The moment stretches on in the heavy silence, as Johnny stares you down with an expectant look, waiting for you to comply. You timidly dip your finger into the sauce, hand trembling as you move to swipe it across Johnny's cheek. You assume he's going to messily return the favour, but he just continues to hold your gaze. 

"Now lick it." He whispers, his tone leaving no room for argument. 

You can't help but comply, pushing yourself up close to his face and darting out your tongue just enough to clean his stubbled cheek. 

It's then he grips you again, stilling you in place as you're draped across his body. "Good fucking girl." He purrs, and then returns the favour—gripping your cheek with one hand and smearing your face with sauce with the other. 

Then he licks you, long tongue trailing slowly up your cheek and leaving you wet and squirming. 

"Johnny, ew!" You giggle wildly, almost feeling tickled by his tongue against your skin. 

"Ew? Really, lass? Won't be saying tha' later when it's my tongue in yer cunt." He makes sure his lips brush against the shell of your ear as he continues to tease you with his words. "Won't be sayin' tha' later when I have ye slobbering all over my cock."

He punctuates the last sentence by pulling you tight against him once more, making you feel the weight of his throbbing cock against you. You find your self-control rapidly slipping once more, especially when his lips dip to press kisses to the bare expense of your neck.

"Mercy, please." You squeal, attempting to wiggle free from his hold. "Otherwise, we might have to abandon the pizzas."

Luckily, Johnny is feeling kind as he pulls away and gives you space—yet the glint in his eye remains. 

"Mercy, for now."

You and Johnny try your best to focus on making the pizzas without further incident—listening to early 2000s pop punk and exchanging little bits and pieces of conversation. He informs you that his Captain's house is more in the countryside and has a proper brick pizza oven in the garden that gets used precisely once a year when he throws a birthday party for Gaz.  

It makes you chuckle how Johnny seems to enthuse about how much better the pizzas are when they aren't made in his "shitty little electric oven". It also makes your heart swell when Johnny mentions how Gaz's birthday is just around the corner, and that you have to come with him to the party. 

When Johnny pulls your pizzas from the oven, you're surprised to see they both managed to cook well despite the pile of toppings and cheese.

The two of you eat your gooey pizzas as you curl up on the couch and watch an episode of Midsomer Murders. Admittedly, you'd been sceptical at first, and a little confused as to why a man in his late 20s was so into a show you watched growing up with your aunt. Then you heard his enthusiasm for solving the cases, and couldn't bring yourself to care about the slightly amateurish acting or the way the theme tune reminded you of the smell of her house. 

When you realise halfway through that you're pretty sure Johnny's guesswork about the case is wrong, you feel your puppy love grow at least ten sizes, and say nothing as you watch the misguided enthusiasm and smugness sparkle in his eyes.

After a second episode finishes, you ready yourself to head back to the kitchen with the plates but find yourself stilled as Johnny grabs your wrist.

"Do you not want help with the dishes?" You ask, head tilted slightly in confusion.

"Maybe later." Johnny pulls you back down onto the couch before fixing you with a look that makes your cheeks flush. His hand finds its way to your face, cupping your burning skin as his thumb traces over your lips with intent.

"Oh, later, I see." You can't help but smile, and Johnny's thumb chases the newfound curve of your lips. 

A lustful fire ignites in the pit of your stomach as you watch Johnny's eyes fixate on your lips, and you notice his pupils are blooming with arousal. 

It's instinctual and automatic, the way you feel your body call out to connect with Johnny's once more, and you give in to the magnetic pull as you climb into his lap and settle atop him. Your hands curl around the thick column of the back of his neck, steadying yourself as you squirm around to get comfortable.

Johnny's large hands cling to your hips—a warning grip stilling you as his cock stirs to life underneath your core and pushes harsh denim against the soft cotton of your panties. 

"Bonnie." The word is growled, yet wrapped in playfulness, as his eyes flare with warning and his fingers continue to dig into the plush of your hips.

"Yes?" You coo innocently. 

"Careful now." 

"I just want to kiss you." You whine, while resisting the urge to grind down on Johnny's length. Instead, your lips fall to kiss his stubbled jaw, and the protruding veins on the side of his neck. "Can't get enough of you." 

Your own words break the dam of your self-restraint, as you give in to your urges and chase the bolts of pleasure that course through you, nudging your clit back and forth against the cock you crave so badly. 

"Neither can I." He whispers brusquely, the words sounding throatier as you continue to kiss him and writhe against him. His hands guide your hips along your path, each thrust earning you a growl from deep within his chest. "Ye drive me mad, steamin' fuckin' jesus." 

Your hips continue to writhe on instinct, addicted to the feeling of rocking on Johnny's bulge and the way the sensation ebbs at consciousness and makes your brain cottony around the edges. You nuzzle into Johnny's neck, seeking comfort and closeness as you continue to slip deeper and deeper.

"Johnny, I'm going crazy, I need you." Your words are whined against his skin, desperate pleas appealing to his baser instincts, practically begging him to just give in and take you already. The impulsive voice in the back of your head chants his name over and over again, as it always does. 

This time it's stronger, overwhelmingly so, as you're wrapped in his arms and able to melt into his touch. 

"Ya have me, pet." He whispers—holding you close, nuzzling you back, and pressing the gentlest of kisses to the top of your head. "'m all yours." 

Johnny continues working his hips up into your core, meeting you thrust for thrust and grind for grind. The sensation of your bodies meeting draws groans from his throat, each erratic connection making you both tremble.

Your eyes meet, an intense connection as Johnny's eyes search yours—him seeming to read every little flicker of emotion within them. Whatever he sees there spurs him into action, as he repositions his grip and redirects you—widening his legs before he pushes you down against his thick, denim-clad thigh.

"Tha's better." He sighs, immediately moving your hips again for you, rubbing your pussy across his muscle and giving you much-needed contact.

You find your rhythm quickly, working with Johnny to build delicious friction—the heightened sensations and connection have you overly sensitive, your blood fizzing all over your body just at being able to grind against Johnny. You know he's going to ruin you when things really start to escalate. You also know you're not going to last long at all.

"Humping my thigh like a good pup." Johnny groans as he buries himself into the crook of your neck, leaving open-mouthed kisses along your skin—you tilt your head to accommodate him getting access to wherever his mouth pleases. 

"Gonna leave a wet spot." You feel the way your wet panties are clinging to your folds and know some of your arousal is leaking through to the denim beneath. 

Johnny growls, his thigh pushing up to meet you more firmly, as if begging to be soiled further. "Go awn, soak ma jeans." 

"Johnny..." 

"Sound so pretty whinin' fer me, whimperin'." He purrs straight into your ear, making your back arch as your skin tingles all over. "Gonna bark for me?" 

You quickly shake your head before hiding in Johnny's chest, cheeks ablaze. "'m shy." You whisper, hoping said reservedness won't disappoint him. 

One of Johnny's hands makes its way up your body, stopping to stroke the top of your head soothingly. "It's okay, pup, it'll come." He reassures you, not let down in the slightest. "Jus' keep grinding."

Your hips move with renewed fervour, chasing the rapidly building high that twists and coils in your stomach. Pleasure radiates out from your core, flowing through your veins and clouding your brain—refocusing yourself entirely on being good for Johnny.

"Feels good?" Johnny asks in response to your escalating whines and moans. "Use yer words for me."

Words are hard to form when your throat is so tightened and your mind so blissed out, but you have to obey. Each thrust pushes you closer and closer to the edge, closer to your reward. The tension between you and Johnny has been building for so long, with your need rapidly spiralling from the moment the two of you first started talking.

You need the release, need to cum under Johnny's touch and command—finally let him into your mind where his commands will make their home. As your thighs tremble around Johnny's, you force yourself to summon the strength to lift your head, to use your words just like Johnny had asked. 

"Feels good, so close." You admit, voice not above a whisper as you get hypnotised by the sparkling blue eyes that are hidden by hooded lids. 

Johnny is looking at you like he's going to devour you, and all you've done so far is rub your slick cunt all over his thigh. You shiver with the thought of just how much more intensity can build between you—you wonder how you're going to survive it.  

"Needy pup, want ye tae cum fer me. Jus' fer me." One of Johnny's hands now cups your chin, forcing you to keep your eyes locked onto his as you continue to writhe wildly against him.

His words push you so much closer, your brain waiting for his word as you try your hardest to not cum even a second before he tells you too. 

"Can ye do that, pet?" 

You nod mindlessly as your body goes into overdrive, the pressure making your body coil tighter as your brain finally fizzles out of any coherent thought. All you can do is keep your eyes fixed on Johnny, as you replay his words over and over in your head. 

Pet. Pup. Hump. Whine. 

Operating entirely on instinct, your mouth falls open, tongue lolling out as you pant and whine—right on the edge, waiting. As if in your thoughts, Johnny senses that you're right at the edge, as his thigh tenses to be the perfect surface for you to rub against, and his hand forces your cunt down even more snugly before. 

"Pretty pup, tha's it." He coos, voice dripping with sweet, gentle authority. "Cum fer me."

With his command finally whispered, you buck one more and fly over the edge, straight into the ecstasy of a blinding orgasm—one that's weeks in the making. 

Johnny continues to coax you through it, whispered praise and encouragement accompanying every little aftershock until you practically collapse against his chest. 

"Oh my god, that was..." You struggle to breathe, still struggle to think as you sink into Johnny's embrace. "I needed that, thank you."

Soft touches adorn every inch of your body, Johnny petting you sweetly and embracing the sensitivity of your skin in the afterglow. "My pleasure. Ye were such a good girl fer me." 

"Sorry about your jeans. And you not—"

Johnny doesn't let you finish your unnecessary apologies. "Dinnae be." 

He pulls you even closer, arms wrapping around your waist and back and holding you in a tight, reassuring embrace as the both of you come back down to normalcy. You can practically feel the smile on Johnny's lips with every kiss against your forehead, and his unbridled joy is still radiating off of him when you finally lean up to reconnect your lips with his. 

After a few sweet pecks, you find yourself burrowing back into his chest as you try to suppress a yawn. 

"Tired, bonnie?" Johnny asks, voice quiet. 

You respond simply with a gentle nod.

"Let's get you to bed, then." He chuckles, tapping the backs of your thighs to encourage you to stand. 

You can't help but whine just a little, entirely resistant to moving even if Johnny's bed is only a short walk away. "It's too early to sleep." You try to reason, even if you have no clue of the time.

Johnny presses another kiss to your forehead—his smirk cheeky and eyes bright. "Who said we'd be sleeping?" 

With assistance from Johnny, you sleepily stumble to his bedroom and immediately plop yourself down on the edge of the mattress while Johnny fetches your forgotten bags from the entryway. 

Your orgasm has left you a little boneless and ignited an even stronger craving for connection with Johnny. He parts from you for even a moment, and your body calls out to be cuddled up with him again.

Luckily, he returns quickly, setting the bag down beside you so you can sleepily rifle through the bag for your pyjamas.

When you finally locate the silky set, you urge yourself off the bed and head for the bathroom. Johnny stops you by the wrists before you can reach the door. 

"Where are ye going?" He asks, an adorable look of confusion on his face. 

"To get changed." You explain, trying to stop your voice from trembling with nerves. Despite just cumming on this man's thigh, there's something startling about the vulnerability of changing before him that makes your walls shoot up and your body stiffen. 

Johnny's thumb runs over your wrist, as his expression softens, and he releases his hold.

"'s okay." He nods, turning to grab his own pyjama bottoms and beating you out of the door to the bathroom, leaving you in the comfort of his room. "Shout me when yer done, aye?"

The door clicks shut behind Johnny, as your heart fills with warmth at his easy and sweet accommodation of you. 

You slip off your dress first, folding it semi-neatly and slipping into the bag before you opt to slip off your panties too—they're still soaked through from your earlier activities and were clinging to your folds almost uncomfortably. You quickly shimmy on the matching silk set—cute shorts with a cami top, as you try to remember the confidence you felt when trying the set on.

You call out to Johnny, beckoning him back into the room and hoping his reaction to your outfit is everything you could hope for.

When Johnny slips round the door, his eyes almost jump out of his head—though you're sure yours are doing the same. "Fuckin' christ, bonnie." 

Your eyes rake down Johnny's body just as he does you—his chest is bare, and his plaid pyjama bottoms are slung low on his hips. You can't tear your eyes away, as they dart around taking in every little feature—the broad muscles, slight dusting of hair, or constellation of scars and freckles all down his torso. It's hard to decide which part of him is the most delicious, the most deserving of your eyes' attention. 

"Christ yourself." You whisper, completely in awe. 

Johnny steps forward, taking your hands in his and pulling you into his warmth. His smile is adoring, his eyes showing nothing but reverence as he takes in every detail of you—you wonder if he's recognised just what you've done. 

"You look so good, I wanna eat you." His words are purred into your neck as he presses kisses along your skin, and his hands slip all over your silky skin and barely-there clothes. His hands find their way to the hem of your top, pausing slightly as if asking for consent. 

"Johnny..." You whine as you turn your head nervously, shielding your embarrassed expression from view and desperately hoping you don't have to explain yourself further. 

He cups your jaw tenderly, without any intention of turning you to face him. His voice is just as considerate. "Nervous?" 

"I know it's silly, but..." You trail off, unable to finish your sentence. 

I'm scared you won't like what you see. 

I'm scared you'll leave once you get what you want. 

I'm scared I won't compare to what you imagined, to what you deserve. 

Johnny can sense it all, or at least some of it—as his eyes briefly flare with intense worry. He pulls away before you can ask, flicking the light switch and plunging you both into inky darkness—the room only illuminated by the soft glow of the streetlights. 

"How's this, hen?" He asks, finding his way back to you.

Somehow, the barely-there lighting of the room feels like a safety blanket—a joyous hiding-in-the-pillow fort feeling, instead of being subjected to a spotlight that seems to amplify all your insecurities.

"Better." Your smile is genuine as you reposition atop the bed, pulling Johnny with you gently as you seek comfort. The two of you scramble up the bed, laying over the covers and facing each other—just inside each other's embrace. 

Johnny's handsome features are visible enough in the dim, with his easy smile still lighting up the room. "Will just have to feel ma way around... if tha's okay." 

"Touch but don't look, instead of the other way around." You laugh, the act releasing some of your pent-up worry. Your hand chases Johnny's, moving it from the bed to your body and encouraging him to touch you. "Sounds good to me." 

"That's ma girl. Ye feel fucking divine." He sighs his words into your skin, leaning forward for a kiss as his hand dips under the fabric of your top and rests on the curve of your waist. His thumb still appreciatively strokes across the satin of your pyjamas.

"I bought these just for you." You admit, voice a soft whisper. 

"Did ye pick the colour of my eyes on purpose, pet?" 

So he had noticed, you think. "Yeah..."

Johnny's easy expression falters for a moment, his usual confidence wavering in the face of such a heartfelt act. 

"Fuckin' christ." His hand squeezes at your side as he lets out a shaky sigh. "And as if I wasn't hard enough."

"Oh?" Your hand reaches out to rest on Johnny's chest, fingers raking down slightly on your path of exploration, headed straight for the waistband of his bottoms where your ignited curiosity is focused. 

Your fingers itch to feel his cock again, remembering how deliciously hard and huge he had felt under your touch in the café. This time, you could feel him without reservation, and experience exactly the effect you have on him without any barriers of material or propriety. 

His eyebrow arches at the action, and his eyes sparkle interest. "Bonnie, where's tha' hand going?"

"I wanna feel it, please." You whisper, accompanying your words with a teasing touch as you slip your thumb under the waistband and tug at the elastic. 

Another tremulous exhale passes his lips before he pulls the lower one between his teeth. "When ye beg like tha’, how can I say no?"

Your hand dives below his waistband as you eagerly wrap your hand around the satiny smooth skin of his cock—feeling the bulging veins and the way the tip leaks with sticky pre.

“Fuck.” You continue to explore his length, stroking slowly and reverently as you watch his face for his reactions—relishing in each quiver of his brows or flutter of his lashes. “Honestly, I don't know how I got this far without begging you to show it to me.”

He chuckles as his hips buck slightly to meet your touch, frenetic energy building inside of him. “Guess for now you’ll just have to keep feelin’. Make up fer lost time.”

“Johnny…” 

“Yes, puppy?”

You stroke down to the base, gripping it firmly for a moment as you speak. "There's no way you're fitting that inside me—" 

Johnny's eyes flare with ravenous need, his smile turning delightfully sinful before he devours your protests with a messy kiss—a hand gripping at your chin. 

"Shhh, I know that pretty cunny can take me." He purrs his words into your mouth, forcing you to practically swallow them and all of their intensity. "When the time comes, we'll go slow. I'll take care of ye, train my puppy to take me."

Your body squirms involuntarily, arousal and surrender washing over you in waves as Johnny's authoritative tone melts you back into a submissive headspace. 

"Your mouth is evil, Johnny." You whine and shiver. "You know what you do to me, right?" 

"I have an idea." He smirks, as the hand gripping your down trails down your neck and over your body before stopping at your waistband for permission. "Wouldnae mind more of one, though, if tha's okay." 

"Please."

It's impossible to hold back your gasp as Johnny's thick fingers finally slide in between your soaked folds and make contact with your sensitive clit. 

He swipes through your wetness repeatedly, dipping down to tease at your entrance before pulling more slick over your clit and swirling it easily with his fingers. You curl into him slightly, forehead falling against his as your legs fall apart, and you surrender to his touch. 

Each stroke feels electric, and your hips rise and fall to chase every little sensation you get from the way he explores you. You find your eyes drifting shut from the pleasure, and the need to shield yourself from the intensity of his hungry stare. 

"Fuck, drippin' fer me." His voice is lower, coming from deeper in his chest, as you feel his dick throb. He's stopped rutting into your hand, instead focused entirely on you.

"... When I got home after our date, I was soaked right through." You admit, voice shaky and unsteady and wracked with pleasure. The glow radiates outwards from your core, coiling in your stomach. Despite your earlier release, your need is still overwhelming—Johnny's touch feeling better than anything you've felt in so long.

"Always makin' a mess. Making a mess on ma fingers right now."

"I can't help it." You whimper helplessly, and even more so when Johnny's fingers withdraw from your folds and leave your cunt aching for him. 

Your eyes fly open in time to watch him take the soaked digits in his mouth, cleaning your mess off of them with his tongue as he gives you an intense, unwavering look that makes your cheeks blaze.

"Taste heavenly, bonnie. Think I need more of a taste, though." He grins, his eyes raging with a hunger that makes your stomach flip.

"Fuck," You sigh, wanting his mouth on you and yet feeling a sense of guilt for even thinking about letting him. "I... I should get you off first." 

You return to stroking his length, your movements having stilled as he had focused on you, but his hand moves to grip your wrist—stilling it in its tracks. 

"Lass, if you give me the word, there's nothin' coming between me and eating tha' kitty of yours. Not even my own cock." 

The certainty in his tone and his look almost have you convinced, but that niggle of insecurity and worry still lingers in the back of your mind, urging you to deny yourself of the pleasures Johnny can give you.

"I don't usually..." You trail off, struggling to finish your sentence. Part of you wants to say you don't let guys go down on you, but it's not like the last one even cared to offer.

You haven't even told Johnny any details, yet he seems enthusiastic enough to compensate for any of the experiences you've had in the past. 

His expression cycles through a myriad of emotions—confusion, sadness, and anger, before he settles on a soft yet determined look.

"Do you want me to go down on ye?" 

"Yes." Your answer slips out far too quickly, but the thought of his mouth on your cunt makes your head spin.

His hand returns to cup your cheek, stroking reassuringly as his eyes plead with you. "Then please, bonnie." 

You swallow, pushing away the voices in the back of your head as you nod, and Johnny scrambles down the bed. 

He pulls down your shorts and tosses them aside, before his arms wrap around your thighs to pull them apart. His lips quickly find their way to the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, kissing and licking and biting ever so slightly as you squirm helplessly beneath him. 

His muscular arms keep your lower body exactly where he wants you, as his kisses move higher and higher before they press the outside of your folds and make you cry out. 

"Poor little neglected kitty." He coos, before pressing more kisses to your lips. 

"Johnny—"

"Shh." He interrupts you sharply yet playfully, looking up from between your legs and fixing you with a light-hearted glare. "Am making introductions." 

He refocuses his attention back on your cunt, a hand moving so he can stroke his thumb back and forth over your sensitive nub while he coos sweet nothings into your centre.

"Need someone to take care of ye? I'm a good owner, promise." He dives in and captures your clit in an open-mouthed kiss, sucking slightly before pulling off with a pop. "Know how tae play with ye just right."

It's overwhelming, the way he talks and the fact he's talking to your cunt like it's separate from you, and yet something he's just enamoured with. 

He starts eating you in earnest, tongue swiping up and down your folds, stubble rubbing against your skin—sweet, hot pleasure trickles through you with every little sensation, and you know you're not going to last long under Johnny's mouth.

"Fuck, can't wait to see ye properly. Pretty pussy, all fer me." 

He dives back in, all tongue and lips and slick, wet heat as he makes love to your clit and folds with his mouth—drawing out every whine and whimper you're capable of making. 

"Oh my god," You gasp, hand falling to his head so your fingers can tangle in his hair. "You're so good fucking with your tongue." 

When he pulls back to talk, his lips glisten with your arousal. "'m not just talk, bonnie. Think ye can take my fingers too?"

"Please, please." You beg, almost urging him back to your core as his fingers circle your entrance before slowly sinking in. 

The two digits stretch you slowly, getting you accustomed to the assault before his tongue is on your clit again, all of him working in tandem to make you shiver and squirm. Your cunt squelches with each thrust and lick, Johnny forcing more arousal to leak from your pretty hole as he lavishes you with attention and pleasure. 

"Such pretty sounds." He mumbles, though his eyes don't meet yours.

"Do you mean me or..." You swallow nervously, shyness overtaking you as you summon the words to address yourself. "...her?" 

"Both of ye." He growls, before feasting with renewed fervour. 

You've never had a man eat you like this in your life, as Johnny drinks your nectar like he needs it to survive, and caresses your insides with the most reverent touch. His has you completely undone beneath him, moaning loud enough to disturb the neighbours and racing towards your peak in record time.

Your legs shake against his hold, your hips naturally rising to meet his mouth as your pleasure builds and builds, pushing you ever further toward ecstasy. 

"I'm close." You whimper when the precipice arrives, and Johnny doesn't hold back in the slightest.

"Cum fer me." He mumbles, before sucking you over the edge. Your thighs squeeze and tremble around his head as you explode under his tongue and clench around his thick fingers. 

His attention doesn't wane until he's wrung every little bit of pleasure out of your quivering body. "Mhmmm. Good girl."

He presses one last kiss to your clit, bidding her goodbye before he gently slides your shorts back up your legs and joins you at the head of the bed.

"Fuck..."

The afterglow flows through you like lava in your veins, filling you with a warmth that only grows as Johnny strokes your face. 

"Can I kiss ye?" He asks, his lips hovering just a fraction from your own. 

"I need you to. I'll just ignore the taste of myself."

"Your loss."

He closes the distance, capturing your lips in a tender kiss, one so achingly sweet you pay no mind to the taste of yourself on your tongue. 

Johnny continues to caress your face as he deepens the kiss, making you breathless once more.

You find yourself having to turn away from the kiss to bury your head into the pillow as you stifle an overwhelming yawn. 

"Tired fer real now, sweetheart?" Johnny whispers, chasing you to press kisses to the side of your head. 

You turn back to face Johnny, noses almost brushing together as you give the slightest confirmatory nod. "'m a little sleepy." 

Johnny rushes to slide off the bed, throw back the covers, and position himself on his back. He pats his chest in invitation, smiling at you ever so sweetly. "Your pillow awaits. Non-negotiable, aye?" 

It takes a little bit of shuffling on both behalves to get you settled under the covers and snuggled up to the warmth and comfort that is Johnny's chest. Your cheek is pressed to his pec as your arm settles across his torso—he loops an arm around your back and pulls the other one over his body, holding the thigh that rests over his hips.

You cuddle in closer, relishing the way your bodies fit together, and the way his chest cradles your head so perfectly. "Mhm. Comfy pillow." 

"I'm glad—"

You interrupt him immediately, your hand coming up to smooth over his chest and squeeze appreciatively. 

"Shh." You whisper condescendingly, imitating Johnny's tone from earlier when he was between your legs. "I'm making introductions."

His chest rumbles with a laugh, as he lets you get well acquainted with his pecs. "Brat." 

Your eyes quickly slip shut, your hand stilling of any further movement. Johnny's voice is a sweet whisper from above you as you drift out of consciousness. 

"Sweet dreams, bonnie."

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Break up with your boyfriend

John Mactavish x reader x Kyle Garrick

Requested by @bunnyreaper

Summary: Johnny and Kyle are hardly pleased with the news you're dating someone who's not them, and promptly decide to remedy the situation.

Word count: 1.5k

“Sorry can’t, I’m calling my boyfriend tonight.” Your words reverberate through Soap’s mind even hours later, a neverending loop as he dazedly tries to make sense of the Earth shattering revelation. My boyfriend. Boyfriend. 

The heinous word mocks him, causing him to scowl at his plate murderously as he stabs the slightly undercooked vegetables with his fork hard enough that it’s a miracle the plate doesn’t shatter under the force. 

Gaz, who had been staring warily for a few minutes decided it was time to finally speak up, “You alright mate? Didn’t think the food was that bad,” he attempted to joke, smile dying when Soap’s imperious glare turned to him. 

“Did you know?” Ominous words aside, Gaz quickly manages to get to the root of Soap’s ire, finding himself joining the petulant club of disgruntled men stabbing their food and imagining it’s your boyfriend. He’d probably squeal like a little bitch after only one punch Soap mused. Not at all the type of man worthy of you. 

Still, they grit their teeth and wallow in their jealousy and rage because you just seem so happy, even if they both privately think you’d be so much happier with them. These thoughts are never vocalised to one another but it’s clear in the way Kyle clenches his jaw when you smile at your phone, and the way Soap is constantly raring for a spar to expend the sudden rush of agitated energy, that neither of them are truly happy about the boyfriend. 

The fragilely maintained peace doesn’t last, shattering barely a few weeks after they’d recieved the news, because they finally meet him. It’s during an outing at the local bar that often housed soldiers during their down time. The team had been waiting for your arrival, Soap’s knee jiggling as Kyle repeatedly checked his phone. You were thirty minutes late, you were never late, and just when the boys begin to fear for the worst, you arrive, only with a man’s arm wrapped around your waist. 

Instantly Kyle’s smile dies and Johnny’s clutching his glass so tightly that it’s a miracle it didn’t smash into a million pieces. You seem a little harried, usually immaculate appearance a little messed and the rumples in your shirt give the team a perfect idea of why you’re late, not to mention the stupid smug smirk that’s painted on your asshole boyfriend’s face. 

While Kyle at least tries to be a little magnanimous, though the petty remarks do slip through, Soap doesn’t even try to hide his dislike. “This him then? Shorter than I’d pictured” Soap says with a predatory grin, shaking your boyfriends hand so hard that something pops. Those words set the tone for the rest of the night, and it’s only thanks to Price sensing the underlying tension and keeping your attention on him and Simon that you don’t truly notice and get upset. 

Stuck between the full force of Kyle and Johnny’s charm turned to the max, your boyfriend barely gets a sliver of your attention. Especially when Kyle’s hand migrates to rest on your knee, his thumb rubbing circles that feel like fire as you try to focus on anything else. (Later you’ll try not to feel sick when you just narrowly avoid moaning Kyle’s name instead.) 

By the time your boyfriend is practically dragging you out of the establishment with gritted teeth and a strained smile, it’s been decided. There’s no discussion, it’s a completely silent transition, but upon finally meeting the douchebag, him and Kyle are suddenly on the same page. That being to get you to leave your loser boyfriend, using whatever means necessary. 

It starts small, neither of them want to scare you off. They’ve both always been naturally flirty with you, touches that already bordered the line of inappropriate, but they need to get you used to the thought of them, both alone and together. As much as Johhny wants to pin you to the bed and fuck you stupid, Kyle convinces him its not the best route. They needed to get you reliant on their touch, their words, their praise until you could barely think of anything else, let alone the supposed man calling himself your boyfriend. 

Johnny hugs you every morning, inhaling your scent and crushing you against him far too long to be normal. Kyle asks you how you slept, cheekily commenting that you’d have slept better in his arms. They pull your focus from your phone, subtly sliding it out of sight or straight up pouting when you won’t pay attention to them. Spars always inevitably ended with them grinding against you, acting like they weren’t hard, smirking smugly at you when your eyes were drawn to their erection. 

It pays off, because it doesn’t escape either of their eagle eyed notice when you start to seek them out more, the way you lean into their touches, how you seem almost surprised yourself when you start to initiate, desperate for their touch. 

That’s when they start to kick it up a notch. 

You’ll never know that it’s not an accident, Kyle leaving his door open wide enough for you to hear the way he moans your name, to see his hand desperately jerking his cock. Though he’ll later ask if you liked the show, watching the mortification flood your face when you realise he caught you watching. “I don’t mind, you can watch whenever you like, if you’re good, maybe I’ll let you touch,” those damned whispered words haunt your every waking hour, filtering into your dreams so much that more than once you wake up achingly horny. 

Never one to be shown up, Johnny stumbles into your room, alcohol on his breath and cheeks flushed as he collapses ontop of you. He uses his bulk to squish you into the mattress, nuzzling into the skin of your neck and pinning your arms to your side with his own muscular ones.

“What are you-” you shriek out in surprise, only to be cut off when he shushes you. 

“Calm down. ‘S just me,” he murmurs, as if that was the only issue. Further protests fall on deaf ears as you’re forced to accept that Johnny is your blanlet for the night. (You don’t fight nearly as hard as you should.) 

It’s the worst sleep of your life. Not because its uncomfortable, no, Johnny’s body against yours is too comfortable, feels too good. Then your night turns straight into hell when he starts to grind against you in his sleep. You can feel everything, his cock is slotted perfectly with your groin and his moans and whimpers filter directly into your ear. In your panic and guilty arousal you don’t know what to do and just when you go to wake him, the ache between your won legs becoming too much to bare, he stills. Your heart roars thunderously in your ears, throat dry and senses dialled to 11 when you hazily realise that he’s cum. 

Too keyed up from a restless night and unwilling to look Johnny in the eyes, you miss the victorious smirk he shoots at an equally proud and jealous Kyle. If one was bad enough, now the two of them are always together and they are insistent on not leaving you alone. Hands on your hips, around your shoulders, brushing your ass as the other stands moves to fill whatever free space there is. Not to mention the relentless use of pet names, babe, lovey, honey, bug, darling, everything’s been given a go until they settled on the things that flustered you the most. 

The final straw is when you walk into your room to see Johnny and Kyle sloppily making out on your bed. You don’t say anything to them at the time, unwilling to speak or do anything that you might regret while you’re still with your boyfriend. You refuse to be that person. 

The fate of your relationship is decided barely three months following its inception though its not as difficult to break it off as you thought it would be, especially not when just before he tells you that he didn’t want you hanging around Johnny and Kyle anymore. It was him or them and wasn’t it a little funny that he genuinely thought you’d pick him? 

It’s the fastest breakup of your life, not even a five minute phone call. Though you had hung up when he’d started to scream at you, all but running back to your room where Kyle and Johnny were waiting with matching grins, pulling you down between them like they’d practiced. 

Tags: @juvenillia @ghostslillady @tokusho @ohworm-writes @kmi-02 @dumb-fawkin-bitch @jumpofmyclif @tiredmetalenthusiast @cooliofango @101crows

—Maturing is realizing how hot this actually is—

Thin Walls

Pairing: Roommate!Soap x Fem!Reader

Summary: Johnny can hear you using your vibrator through the thin walls of your apartment. He ignores the issue for weeks until he hears you moan out his name one night.

Warnings: smut (duh), masturbation mentions, unprotected p in v sex, voyeurism (Johnny listens to reader without her knowing), boundary crossing (Johnny enters reader's room without her consent and ignores her request to use a condom), Johnny generally being a perv, squirting, and creampie (reader receiving)

Word count: 1171

!! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT - NSFW BELOW THE CUT !!

Roommate!Johnny doesn’t ever bring it up because he doesn’t want to embarrass you, but truth of the matter is he can easily hear your vibrator every time you power it on. The walls in your two-bedroom apartment are as thin as tissue paper, doing very little to prevent noise traveling from your room into his. Late at night, he can hear the soft buzzing of the toy along with your sweet sighs and whimpers as you work yourself towards an orgasm. God only knows what he would give to be the one relieving that ache in between your thighs instead of that stupid piece of plastic. All Johnny can do is press his ear against your shared wall and fuck his fist with his eyes screwed shut so he can picture what your pretty face would look like all fucked out underneath him. 

The poor man says nothing about the noises for weeks. Johnny so desperately wants to offer to fuck you, to lay you back and make you cum over and over again with his mouth and cock. But he would sooner die than risk making you uncomfortable with that type of proposition. So he doesn’t say a word until one night when you make it impossible for him to resist you any longer. 

That night as you slide the little pink vibrator through your folds, you can’t keep Johnny out of your fantasies. Mental images of his broad, muscular frame toned from years of SAS training creep into your mind. The memories of him post shower, towel low on his waist and water clinging to his hairy chest and stomach, play on repeat. When you shut your eyes, you think about the times you’ve seen Johnny in his boxers, his prominent bulge always making you wonder exactly how large his cock is. 

“Nngh… Johnny,” you find yourself moaning out as you press the vibrator to your clit. Your roommate’s ears perk up from the other side of the wall and he wonders if he’s dreaming. Surely his hearing is just playing a cruel trick on him. 

“Yes! Just like that, Johnny!” Your moans confirm that this is in fact reality. Johnny races to your bedroom door and throws it open without warning. You gasp and quickly try to cover yourself with a blanket when you see your roommate standing in the doorway. 

“Jesus Christ, Johnny! You can’t just-“ your sentence dies on your lips as Johnny enters your room and and crawls on top of you, his strong arms caging you in on either side. 

“I heard ye just now, hen. The way ye moaned out my name. I know ye want me, the same way I’ve wanted you for months,” Johnny’s pupils are wide, his breathing heavy as his lips move closer to yours. You hesitate for a moment before lifting your head to close the gap.  

The kiss quickly becomes lustful as Johnny slides his tongue into your mouth. He’s so clearly pent up, obvious by the way he ruts his erection against you. You whine into Johnny’s lips as the clothed bulge repeatedly grinds against your clit, your wetness leaving a noticeable wet spot on his boxers. 

“Johnny please,“ you pant out breathlessly between kisses.

“Please what? Tell me what ye need, hen.”

“Please fuck me.” That’s the final signal Johnny needs to spur him on. Within seconds, his boxers are gone and he’s pushing your knees back against your shoulders, giving him full access to your pussy. His cock slides through your slick folds and soft moans fall from your lips as his tip rubs against your clit. 

“Oh God,” you whisper when you feel him press against your entrance. “Wait, ‘s not safe. You should use a condom.”

“Relax, hen,” Johnny chuckles as he kisses the corner of your lips. “We’ll get ye a Plan B tomorrow morning, aye?” 

You have no time to protest before Johnny sinks his veiny cock into your cunt, a nearly pornographic moan leaves your lips as his thick shaft stretches you open. 

“Fuck me,” Johnny growls out at the sensation of your wet walls around him. “Ye feel even better than I imagined.” 

His thrusts are rough and rhythmic, groans escaping from his throat every time he pushes into you. Johnny only slows down to reposition himself slightly, angling his dick to perfectly reach that gummy spot inside of you. He knows he’s done well when your moans get even louder. 

“Ye sound so bonnie getting fucked by me, lass. Tell me, tell me I’m better than that little toy.” 

“Johnny! Ah ahhh! You feel so good! So much better than my toy… So much better than-“ your voice quickly fades, unsure if you should continue. 

“C’mon let me hear ye, hen,” Johnny grunts in your ear before nipping at the sensitive skin of your neck. 

“Nngh! So much better than anyone I’ve ever had!” Your exclamation spurs Johnny on even further and his thrusts speed up. Now filled with the confidence boost that he’s fucking you better than any of your previous partners. 

“Wait! Stop, I’m- I’m gonna pee!” you cry out as an unfamiliar sensation fills your low abdomen. Johnny knows what you’re about to experience and ignores your whines, instead thrusting right up against that spongy spot to push you over the edge. You moan as you squirt for the first time ever. Your fluids soak the thick bush of black hair at the base of Johnny’s cock and the bedsheets underneath you. 

Within seconds, Johnny’s thrusts lose their rhythm and he reaches his climax, sent over the edge by your tight walls convulsing around his shaft. He lets out a string of grunts as his cum floods your pussy. Johnny’s burly body collapses on top of you and he rests his face in the crook of your neck, both of you trying to catch your breath after the intensity of your orgasms. 

“Ye dinnae ken how long I’ve wanted this, lass,” Johnny whispers after his breathing returns to normal. 

“I’ve wanted this for a while now too. Was just… too afraid to make things awkward between us.” Your cheeks begin to feel warm as you admit your true feelings to your roommate. Johnny’s strong hand reaches up to gently caresses your jawline. 

“Well, now we ken how we feel. Dinnae need to dance around the subject any more,” he smiles warmly before pressing a soft kiss to your lips. 

“We need some place dry to sleep,” you giggle softly. 

“Come sleep in my room,” Johnny insists as he sits up and extends his hand. “C’mon, let’s get cleaned up and get ye to bed, hen.” 

After a hot shower with him, you collapse into Johnny’s bed. His burly arms wrap around your waist as he curls himself up behind you. You drift off to sleep with a faint smile on your face, knowing that when the lease is up on this place you and Johnny will be looking for a one bedroom apartment.

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