tags: NSFW, MINORS DNI, co-parenting, split family, reciprocal yearning, parenting and caretaking, familial drama (if you squint), breastfeeding (baby, River), missionary sex, mild fingering, teasing, confessions, did i mention yearning, baby trapping threat (like maybe??), shared orgasm
wc:
synopsis: You and River might not be together, but you can make it work, right?
a/n: ahhhh, happy early mother's day to River Ward lovers alike, I LIVE *Mushu voice* @almightywdm @acid-acid-acida @jornaquin
River waited in front of his truck in the parking lot of the diner that you'd picked. He'd been waiting at least five minutes.
He was patient, as ever, but somehow you running late for days like this always tested that in him. He crossed his arms, leaned against the still warm grill of his truck and stared across the empty lot just as the sun streaked through the limited cracks of Night City.
Joss was cooking dinner, and he could hear her now talking about you. He didn't want to, but it was unavoidable when he still lived with her. When she was the only other parent he knew in all of this new age of fucked up.
You pulled into the parking lot carefully, parking hapzardly into a row of empty parking lines. River raised his brows as you flew out of the car and rushed to the back passenger door.
Never had he expected you to trade your two-door hot rods for a four-door hatchback. But here you were, throwing open the back door to grab a squirming baby then rounding the back to the hatch area.
"I'm so sorry I'm late," You offered, setting the infant in the empty trunk of your car.
River pushed off of his truck, meeting you at the back of your car to watch you change the baby. "You okay?"
It was a mild enough question to ask; it posed open-ended enough to be directed to you and the little extension of you. An extension of both you, your son.
"I'm fine," you bit out softly as you hastily tugged down the baby's pants then unfastened his onesie. "Him on the other hand," you blew a stray hair away then reached into the diaper bag to produce a fresh diaper.
You tucked it under your chin as you undid the tabs on your son's diaper. "He was so hungry this morning, then I couldn't get him to stop to take a nap. By the time we were supposed to get ready, he was fussing and I ended up taking too long to feed him again so he wouldn't cry on your way to Joss's..."
River watched as you rambled a mile a minute, your chin tucked hard to your chest and making your words sound off as you expertly lifted your son's bottom from his dirty diaper then reach for his wipes.
He leaned against the back quarter of your car, lightly jostling it and staring through the window at his boy; the kid was busy reaching after the toy clipped onto the diaper bag to acknowledge him. River returned his attention to you again as you finally disposed the dirty diaper to the concrete of the parking lot then slid the fresh one under Vedder's clean butt.
"And he made a mess on his way here and I couldn't stop any decent place between here and my apartment," you said after tabbing his fresh diaper shut and allowing yourself to pause for a moment.
River's brows lightened as he witnessed you drop your head back to your shoulders, releasing a deep sigh in the stilled silence of the moment. He stared at you: your hair mussed unevenly and your haphazardly wrangled top stained previously from your leaking nipples.
He blinked, once...twice, before standing upright. Of course it was still there. It wasn't like it left. River exhaled a deep breath then moved to pick up Vedder.
"It's no sweat, V, at least you guys made it in one piece," he opted, hoisting his son in one arm.
The youngling yawned and stretched his tiny toes before turning to tuck his face into River's pectoral. He looked at you from him, remembering how you'd once done the same thing.
River swallowed as you bent to pick up the soiled diaper. You blew out another harsh air as you bundled the trash up and tossed it into the trunk for later disposal.
"Yeah, but I can only imagine what Joss has to say about it," you said, reaching for the diaper bag then closing the trunk of the hatchback.
River couldn't help but watch you, he was now wrangled with baby. But no matter how often you told him how undone you were, how chaotic you felt or looked, he still stared in awe of you.
Your shirt rode up slightly on your stomach, revealing a patch of skin he hadn't seen in a while. It was softer now, stretched lean as you worked hard to bounce back.
"Fuck what Joss has to say, she hasn't had a baby in 12 years," River said, defensively.
Your eyebrows raised in response before cracking a smile. "Okay, okay but still. I don't have an excuse. I should've been here on time."
River nodded once. He wanted to lie that he wasn't keeping time, but he was. Less time spent in front of you was less time thinking of you.
And not by his own choice.
He was just trying to keep it as seamless as possible; you didn't want speed bumps in being platonic co-parents, so he would have to cope and swallow it down.
"I guess I'll see you on Sunday, then," you offered as you handed over Vedder's bag.
River grabbed it and slung it over his empty shoulder. Another sunday dinner that he'd have to stomach through, feeling as he did.
He managed another half-nod, his eye barely blinking as he met yours. "You wanna come over for the weekend? Keep you from having to drive home. I'll make up the couch for you."
River watched you consider it, already expecting you to decline. He would understand if you wanted the peace away from Vedder, sometimes he felt like he should've opted more time to keep him just for you to be your own.
"Actually," you began, your tone uplifting as you nodded. "Yeah, I'd love to do that."
River withheld his shock, mustering a menial nod before tilting his head towards the truck. "Hop in, I'll drop you back here on Sunday."
You stood on the front porch of River's home, awash with memories you tried your best to forget. Or at least, not remember at first wake.
Staring into the living room, you scoffed as you mentally tallied every place you and River had had sex. It was a little too late to back out now as your foot stepped over the threshold.
But it was the living room floor, the couch, the doorway, the booth table, the kitchen doorway. Every step you took was another flash of it: the kitchen floor, against the fridge, bent over the kitchen counter.
It was surprising you weren't pregnant sooner by him with the way you two went like wild rabbits on a full moon. You stashed a gulp, snapping yourself out of the tainted visions to welcome his niece and nephew with open arms.
"Aunt V!" They exclaimed with Dorian wrapping his thin arms around your neck and Monique going to brace your chest.
"What's up, gremlins?" You said, slowly standing up and grabbing each kid in an arm. They were heavier than the last time you saw them, aware of that as you gave them a quick squeeze, their legs dangling to your shins.
You set them down, watched them run to show you the latest around the house. "You've been gone too long!"
You nodded solemnly, following slowly after them. River stood in the kitchen with Joss as she cleaned up in the kitchen. Being dragged into the kids' room, you passed by River as he mouthed 'sorry'.
You feigned a roll of your eyes as you continued after Monique and Dorian; facing down the hallway, you froze. Staring at the open door of River's room, you couldn't help but smile.
It came back again, the warmth you felt around him. No matter how many times you tried to stamp it down, how long you averted his face, tried to build your walls up, he cracked through and melted your icy interior.
Even now, stood before the kitchen doorway staring at his bed, you felt the cold shell on your heart crack away and become full again.
"Come on!" Dorian and Monique exclaimed in unison, grabbing both hands and tugging you along.
River stared at you, then suddenly you were yanked away by your niblings. He chuckled slightly, only for his sister to clear her throat and turn to him from the sink.
"What?" River asked, holding Vedder against his shoulder while rhythmically bouncing his body.
Joss rested a damp hand on her hip, her eyes darting in your direction then narrowing them at River.
"Don't start," River said, turning to leave the room.
"I'm just wondering why you bring your," Joss tilted her head like she could see around the corner if you were still around, "fucking baby mama around after she broke your heart."
River didn't react, only looked back at his sister. "Don't call her that. It's still V."
Joss cocked her jaw, ready to respond but taking a deep breath through her nose. "Riv, why is she here?"
"I said she could crash on the couch. She's tired, Joss."
"Then why bring her here?" She raised her voice slightly.
River didn't know how to explain it. He just saw it in you, feeling detached from human interaction. You as V, the mercenary, was a purposeful lone wolf.
You as V, the mom, seemed to never find peace in silence anymore.
He said nothing, only continued bouncing Vedder on his shoulder. "We're her family. Why leave her alone if she didn't want to be? I asked, she accepted. If she didn't want to be here, she wouldn't have agreed."
You sat on the floor of the kids' bedroom while Dorian ran around you showing off new toys he'd found around the park. Monique practiced braiding your hair, but you felt her knotting it every third try.
But you kept smiling, raising your eyebrows in surprise at every new treasure Dorian shared.
In the corner of the kids room was a travel crib, the wall behind it decorated with drawings of the kids holding Vedder, of them, Randy, Uncle River, their mom and you all in a convenient line of height.
"Kids, dinner!" Joss shouted while staring unwaveringly at her brother. "Don't fuck this up. Don't run her off."
"I'll do my best," River said, hiding a roll of his eyes as he went to put Vedder down.
His niece and nephew rushed past him down the hall and outside to get Randy. River walked into their room and saw you sat on the floor, untangling your hair with your fingers.
"You okay?" he asked, cradling the back of the baby's head before tilting him away from his shoulder. Carefully, he lowered the sleeping infant into his crib then retracted his hands.
When he was clear of Vedder's crib, River extended his hand to pull you up. Standing, you came close to his chest. You could smell his natural musk, the soft sweat embedded in his red shirt.
You slowly lifted your eyes to meet his gaze, knowing that it was burning in your throat to do so. River waited with baited breath, willing you to look at him.
You finally did it, witnessing his eyes baring down at you. A lump formed in your throat, knowing that you being this close was going to confuse things.
River's hands ghosted to touch yours but he resisted. He so badly wanted to touch you, to hold your hand or grasp your chin.
He was coming off wrong, this was not what he intended by inviting you over. River bit away before you could, choking back his want with a tense of his neck.
You watched as he lifted his chin away from you, turning his face away to the door. You wanted to say something, to pull him back but you didn't want to confuse things.
You were the one that wanted the space. You told him it was too much, you told him you needed to breathe.
But now your body yearned to be suffocated by him. You wanted more, it felt like the piece of him that was still inside you was yearning to return back like a magnet.
You felt like you were going to break him again and again, knowing that you would eventually regain your need for distance.
How could a man like River decide to keep you so permanently to have a child with you?
River took a half step back, ready to remove himself from you. He knew that his sister would send one of the kids to find you both soon. He didn't want to force himself into your space.
He paused as your hand grasped at his; River glanced down at the interaction and then your face, your eyes glistening with the threat of tears.
"Hey, hey hey, what's the matter?" River broke his own boundary and enveloped you in his hold.
His arm curled around your chin, cradling your head against his bicep while his other pulled you tight into his chest. The tears sprung out of nowhere, streaking your cheeks and then River's bicep.
You didn't know what you wanted to say, didn't know what you could say, if anything.
River wasn't expecting anything from the silence. He just held onto you as your arms slowly curved around him.
You mustered a weak, "I'm sorry, Riv," before turning your face into his chest and breathing him in.
You let yourself inhale him, let your body relax in his grasp.
"For what, V?" River asked, tucking his chin to lower his voice at you.
You shook your head. You didn't know if you could continue, if you should. You wanted him, but you wanted independence. It scared you how tight it felt to be with him.
Commitment scared you, like it was a boa taking your pressure points and using them against you. It was not smart to bring in a kid when that was 18 years of commitment.
You'd chastised your parents for shirking the responsibility. You slowly raised your head to meet River's eyes again. You wanted to tell him, the itch of your tongue tempting you to do so.
'I was scared,' you wanted to admit, because it was true. You were scared of what you were with him and Vedder, if it was embedded in you the sins of your parents.
You were scared that you'd eventually make him hate you. That you'd fuck up so bad that he'd look down at you in disgust.
You were scared of not living up to his expectation. Girlfriend V and mom V were two different people. Partner V, wife V....you weren't sure if you'd fit those molds he'd prepared in his mind.
"I..." you began, your throat threatening to close as you tried to muster your next thought.
Dorian ran and braced himself against the doorway, pausing to look in Vedder's crib before smiling at both of you.
"Come on, guys," he whisper-shouted, "Dinner's ready."
You sat in silence across from River, another echo of your past returning. Dorian and Monique sat opposite of Joss while Randy sat at next to you.
"Been a while since you've been back," Randy said as he pushed about his food on the plate with his fork.
You grinned at him, reaching around to grab his head to lean him towards you; you kissed the top of his head then rubbed at his buzz cut.
"Missed you too, kid," you offered as you let him go.
"What've you been up to, V?" Joss asked.
You deflated slightly then looked at River before meeting Joss's eyes. "Not much. I've been taking a break since Vedder was born. I've got contracts lined up but right now..."
You weren't going to admit that you were tired. It was like you could hear Joss's response already. You nodded down at your plate and scooped up a forkful of rice. "Just taking care of Vedder."
River cleared his throat, side-eyeing Joss before picking at his food further. Joss only nodded and set her fork aside.
"You doing okay, V? Like Randy said, it's been a while since we saw you."
You folded your lips together then prodded your tongue between them. "I'm...okay." You offered in response before raising your head. "I've missed you all and I'm sorry I haven't been around."
"You should live with us!" Monique blurted as Dorian reared up in his seat.
"Yeah, we miss you too! Mom even said so."
Joss scoffed and tugged at Dorian's arm to sit him back down. "Of course, I do. We all do. But we can't just make her come back."
You raised your brows at the family, barely looking in River's direction. You already knew that you were breaking internally, wanting that security of him and his loving family back around you. But you didn't deserve it, and you would only make it worse when you eventually left again.
You didn't trust yourself not to, when things got too comfortable or routine, the wild side within you told you hightail out and not look back.
You were sure that was something you'd learned from your parents, their sin once again rearing within you. River noticed your stoic silence and reached across the table to brace your elbow.
"V?" He questioned your silence.
You forced a soft smile in the direction of the kids, then Joss before pulling away from the table. "I should go check on Veddie."
You gathered your empty plate along with your silverware then walked back into the house. River watched Joss look after her then stood up to follow you.
"I'll help you, V."
You scraped your plate in the trash before setting them in the empty sink. Joss did the same, pausing at the counter after she was done.
"Are you okay?" She asked.
You stared down into the kitchen sink then looked over at Joss. "I-I was scared, Joss."
You admitted it, feeling that the soft weight in your stomach lightened but not enough to make you feel better. "I still am."
Joss raised a brow, crossing her arms as she leaned against the counter. "Is it River?"
You shook your head, glancing in the direction of the front door. "It's me. I'm scared of who I could be with him. Of how I could hurt him in the future."
Joss furrowed her brow at you, her expression flattening. "You're not a bad person, V. You know that, right?"
You nodded half-heartedly. You knew it as a whole, but intimately... you weren't sure.
"I am," you admitted lowly, looking down at the kitchen floor. "You wouldn't like me if you knew what I wanted to do."
Joss dropped her arms, her face softening. "You're not gonna hurt him again, are you?"
You shook your head, meeting Joss's eyes. "I don't want to. I want the best for him, but half the time I feel like I'm not it."
"V," Joss drew out, her hand reaching to grab yours. In an instant, her arms were wrapped around you in a family squeeze.
Leave it to the Kutcher-Ward family to crack through your icy interior and make you soft. Your arms slowly raised, bracing Joss's shoulders as she smoothed out your hair.
"My brother is so hopelessly devoted to you, and he's not one to do so lightly," Joss said, leaning back to look at your face. "Don't take this personally, but I trust River right now more than you postpartum."
You feigned a grin but tucked your face to Joss's shoulder again. "I feel so lost."
Joss nodded, resting her chin on your head with a deep sigh. "We're both gonna hate to hear this, but I think Riv's right. Maybe...maybe you need more people around."
You scoffed into Joss's shoulder but still agreed. "You're right. I did hate to hear that."
You sat in the corner of River's room, feeding Vedder as River stripped his bed and put down new sheets.
"I'm okay with the couch, Riv, you don't need to do this," you pleaded, brushing Vedder's forehead as his eyes began to lull. "I think he'd do well with a pacifier to fall asleep."
River unraveled a flat sheet over the bed, lining it up to the head of the bed. "Agreed. I see he soothes better at night with a bottle."
You smirked at River's back. "And the original."
River paused with a knee on his bed, flattening the sheets with his hands. He let out a chuckle, "Not far from his dad, then."
You grinned then, snickering as you unlatched your son. "Don't listen to him, Ved."
The baby cooed as you lifted him to rub his back. River looked over his shoulder to you leaned in his computer chair, holding your son. Vedder nuzzled his head into the crook of your neck while you rocked him gently and River watched in silence.
"V," River began, holding his hands out to you. "Give me the baby."
You raised your brows at him, slowly detaching your sleeping son from your shoulder to hand off to River. River settled Vedder in his arm then left the room, before returning.
"Get some rest, okay?" River said, grabbing the tossed away sheets from the floor. "I'll be in the living room if you need me."
You fixed your top and stood up, pausing River in the middle of the room. "Hey Riv?"
River turned carefully, doing is best to not be eager in your presence. It was the instant closeness again, matching up to River's chest as you raised your eyes to meet his.
You cleared your throat, taking a step back. "Can I have a towel for the shower?"
River deflated slightly, smiled politely and nodded. "I'll bring you some. If you give me your clothes, I'll wash them. You can wear whatever's in my closet."
You raised your head at him, your eyes softening. River cleared his throat, "Or I can find you something of Joss's."
You blinked. "N-no, it's okay. I'll manage with your closet."
River's eyes softened on you, opening his mouth to say something before dropping his chin and leaving the room. "Okay."
You stood in the steamy bathroom after your shower, draped in one of River's larger tees. You finger combed through your hair, staring at your steamed reflection in the mirror.
The house had finally settled after hearing Dorian and Monique play around in their room long after Vedder went to sleep. You gripped the damp counter, allowing the silence to creep in.
It was a comfort to have the silence echoed through the rooms of people. It was better than when it was just you and Vedder at home. Nibbles barely kept the house lively enough and ever since Johnny left, it felt like there was a full gap missing.
When you were done soaking in the peace, you opened the door to River. He stood in the doorway, after thinking for a few minutes on what he wanted to say.
He had to say something, there was something left unsaid that you wouldn't bring up and he needed to know. River wanted to bear whatever weight was on your mind because even if you weren't together, he wanted to be a cooperative co-parent.
You felt your chest swell at his presence, reminded once again of the stir he reignited inside you. The metaphorical squeeze his body offered by being in front of you was warranted, and you wanted to be crushed in his hold.
"V," River began, his voice barely warmed above a whisper. "What's wrong?"
Another hardened part of you broke and dropped off of the iceberg of your shell. You stepped slowly towards him, not wanting to move quickly to scare him off.
River was frozen as you inched closer before you curled your arms around his neck. He extended his neck down to accomodate you, still unsure what your next step was.
Then you hiked up onto his waist, and River braced you there. His hands gripped softly at the damp skin of your thighs as you slowly descended from brushing his nose with yours to kiss him.
Your hands instantly gripped at his neck, gaining movement in his kiss as you flattened your chest to him. River's eye lulled close as his hands tenderly slipped further to brace your bare ass.
He minded the cusp of your cheeks, not wanting to be too forward with your action. However, his heart was full enough with this affection. Even without words, River felt he understood.
You began to eat his lips hungrily, waking to the dull fire inside your chest igniting bright. Your tongue tempted into his lips, welcomed by his livening up to the company.
You hummed into his mouth, devolving into a squeaky moan that River ingested with glee. He stumbled slightly backwards, blindly navigating his way back to his room before shutting the door behind him.
You carefully dropped a leg from River's waist, using it to find the edge of his bed. River followed your lead, dropping his knee to the bed and bracing you against the mattress.
He let his hands slip back to your knees, letting you make the next step. Your toes rimmed his sweatpants, suggesting what you wanted from his next.
"V," River said, finally breaking from you to catch himself.
"River, I love you," you whimpered once your mouth was free from his.
It had worked itself from deep within you and, as River braced a hand next to your head to look down at you, he saw your cheeks now damp with tears.
He used his rough thumb to gently dab it away, remembering how soft your face was no matter how hard you tried to be.
"Val," he repeated, a bit quieter. He was waiting for the other shoe to drop. He knew it would come, which left him from expecting so much from you.
"I-I made a mistake," you whispered out, raising your hand to touch at the scar from his cybernetic eye. "I've fucked us up."
River's face quirked slightly in anguish, see your face break with your bottom lip quivering.
"N-no, you haven't," he tried, anything to stop you from crying. River felt his chest dampen the same, ready to meet your feelings halfway. "Please, don't cry."
You couldn't help it, turning your face away to wedge his hand to the bed. You readied your mouth to respond, to lie that you weren't going to but River leaned in and kissed your jaw.
His lips lined up your to your ear. "I love you, V. I never stopped," River admitted, dropping his nose to nuzzle your ear.
A shiver trickled down your neck to make your heart jump. Your eyelids fluttered at his warm breath slipping down your neck. You found yourself turning back to him, your nose brushing against his.
"Why would you let me go?" you whispered against his lips, ready for him to shut you up with his kiss.
River stared down at you, your eyes glistening with the threat of tears in the moonlight streaked in the room. Your cheeks were flushed as your lips were damp and puffy from kissing.
"I didn't want you to resent me," River admitted back. "I've already..."
He didn't want to say that he ruined your life, but he was half the reason you drastically changed practically overnight. River was aware that it was all your decision and he was there for support, but River wanted you to know that he wasn't trying to trap you.
You shook your head, tilting your chin up to him. "Don't say it. You didn't. I...I don't resent you for anything."
Your lips ghosted against River's. "Maybe that you didn't tell me to stay."
River shook his head, lulling into your gravitational pull. "You'd have hated that."
You tried a soft nod as River's lips puckered against your cupid's bow. "Yeah, I would've," you groaned as you gave in to River's kiss.
River caught your lips, your chin tilting slightly to accommodate him. You blindly grabbed his free hand and ran it up your bare thigh before bracing your side.
River smiled in your kiss, his fingers wisping over your stomach in silent appreciation. He wanted to pause to praise your body for carrying his son, feeling that he'd missed out on it since you two broke up.
You felt his fingers circle around your bellybutton, how he dragged slower over the invisible stretch marks on your skin. As his tongue slipped into your mouth, his fingers drifted down to pet your pubic fur before tentatively touched your slit.
You shivered, breaking away to moan against his mouth. River felt engorged by the sound, his chest overfilled for a sound he was never sure he'd hear again.
"Riv," you breathed out, spreading your legs and raising on your ankles slightly to have his finger slip between your lips.
River paused himself against your forehead. He didn't want to get ahead of himself. His fingers descended slowly into you, stretching you around his middle and index finger.
It'd been too long since you felt the sensation, since your body felt the most your own. You raised your knee to accommodate River's fingers, feeling him slide and curl them against your g-spot.
"P-please," you pleaded, your eyes welling up once again to just have the sensation of pleasure through your body.
And to have River be the conductor of it. River held his hand before his waist, pulling his fingers out slightly and witnessing the excess wet spilling from you.
His eyesbrows furrowed as you slowly pulled your shirt over your head to reveal your naked body. "V, slow down."
You couldn't, your body alive with electricity. You reached for the back of River's neck to catch his kiss again. "Get inside me, now."
River quivered at your demand, pausing his hand as his cock strained behind his sweats. "L-let me get a condom."
You shook your head, toeing at his waistband to strip him nude. "No. Now."
River's eyes met yours in wild question, your eyes wild with heated desire.
"You'll pull out," you offered to his stare. "I trust you."
River stashed a gulp, his stomach tightening matching the carnal need in your eyes. He trusted you more than himself, he needed the reassurance from himself.
He tried to shake his head, to tell you so but he followed your lead. You whined lowly as he pulled his fingers out of you but eagerly watched him drop his sweats to reveal his beautiful cock at attention.
You edged up onto your elbow, reaching to grasp him. River tenderly swatted your hand away, his teeth grit.
"Don't," he growled, assuming that if you touched him he'd explode before having you.
You smiled nervously, spreading your legs slightly and planting your feet on the bed. He looked bigger than you last saw him, you were unsure if you could take it.
"We'll go slow," River whispered, kneeling onto the bed before descending over you. "Tell me when it's too much."
You shook your head slightly, feeling the heat from River's hips come closer to you. He carefully guided his head between your lips, pushing up to your clit and making you whine softly.
River slowly pushed his head into you, making you melt instantly to the bed. He instantly felt like everything you'd ever need.
You raised your hips to meet him, taking more of him in while keeping his stare. Both of your mouths opened in soft surprise, knowing this was a point of no return.
But you didn't want to go back, you had begged for him. You needed him more than you could explain.
You raised your knee to his waist, whimpering as his cock pushed past your sensitive spot before kissing your cervix.
He felt like home, so comforting and beautiful. River wanted to bow against your body and plead for you to never hurt him again.
But you both were aware that wasn't a definite. But you and him in this instant, and every moment after, was.
"I'm sorry," you offered as River's stomach met yours.
"Shut up," River teased lovingly, taking your mouth in a slow, rapturous kiss as he began to thrust into you.
You held onto his face, keeping his lips to yours as his hands braced your knee at his waist and your hip to the bed, respectively.
He ate your muted moans with soft praise, rolling his hips to meet at your soft thighs. River's lips trailed down your chin as you bit back a low moan with the arch of your back.
River's hands wanted to touch more of you, to revel in you being so close to him again. He slipped his hand up your thigh and over your hip before tenderly cupping your breast.
You waned from his touch with a tender hiss, catching the corner of his mouth. "E-easy, babe."
River smiled at your lips, cupping your breast a bit firmer and wisping hus thumb over your nipple. You broke back with a gasp, your stomach concaving at his touch.
"River, it's sensitive," you tried, your hands slipping from around his broad back to protect your tit in fail.
River chuckled at your effort, dropping his mouth from yours to find your opposite nipple and draw it between his lips.
You arched then, folding both hands over your mouth to stifle your moans. His lips were soft as his tongue folded against it, suctioning and pebbling your nipple in his mouth.
"Quit," you cooed, a hand pulling from your mouth to cradle his head in opposition.
He hummed against your breast, taking more of of it into his mouth as you squirmed under him. By his cock and mouth, you wouldn't recover.
River had already etched into your heart but he was effectively branding you, body and soul. You felt the tingle in your breast by his suction, warning him by tapping your fingers tepidly on the back of his head.
"H-hey, slow down," you pleaded, mewling. He was on the precipice of an unwarranted surprise.
River paused as he felt the warm sweet that suddenly sprinkled in his mouth. He pulled back slowly, licking at your nipple as he did so before meeting your broken face.
Embarrassed, you covered your violated nipple and tried to shield yourself with your forearm. River said nothing, only wormed his way under your arm and kissed your bottom lip.
He kept on, paving through you and wearing you down. River was surprised he didn't explode at your nipple in his mouth, wanting every piece you had to offer him.
He was careful, driving both of you closer until you gripped his shoulder and begged him to slow down. Your walls began to flutter around his cock, wanting to beg him further, keeping him.
River began to reach for himself, ready to retract and cum on your stomach. "Are you getting close, baby?"
You nodded eagerly, your hands reaching for his sides. Your knees inched up his waist, ready to lock around him.
River felt your body pulling him further in, every part of him begging to let go and follow. As your pussy began to pulse in orgasm, he hurriedly pulled out and rested his cock against your clit.
You whined at his sudden leaving, trying to hold a pout as you writhed on the bed in orgasm. River watched you in awe, slowly stroking himself until he finally came on your stomach.
"Why'd you pull out?" You whimpered as River bent over you and decorated your bare stomach and chest with his cum.
"No babies, honey," River coaxed with a tepid kiss to your lips. "At least 'til Ved is six."
You scoffed lightly, bracing River's chin to keep him level with you. "Until he's two."
River lovingly tsked at your effort, rubbing his nose against yours. "Seven."
You pouted, raising up on your elbow to get closer to River's lips, his face, him. "Three."
River pretended to think about it, his eyes looking to the ceiling as his lips pursed in thought. "Five, final offer."
You narrowed your eyes at him, tempting to lick his bottom lip. "Four."
River tried his hardest to keep from smiling at you but failed. He planted his hands outside your body and kissed you. "Fine, but I want to be married by then."
"Buy me the ring and it's a deal," you purred curling your arms around his neck and kissing him again.
river fantasizing about licking the leather after vox leaves a little sliver of wetness on his passenger seat
and having just about the best orgasm of his life doing so
and then being so ashamed he cleans his entire truck afterwards
so next time they work together he vehemently REFUSES to let her ride around in his truck
which vox is 100% sure is due to some automobile etiquette faux pas she made and not because he can now only imagine himself absolutely DEVOURING her right where she’s seated
tags: NSFW, MDNI, John Wick 2 storyline, slightly inaccurate John Wick, strangers to lovers, awkward first meet, knight in shining muscle car type, slooooooooow burn [then we fast af], reader is a vet tech type, descent into darkness/Underworld, adventures in dog sitting, age gap, references to Hades/Persephone mythology, flirting over text [or in John's case, just conversing], clothes on sex, cowgirl position, panties to the side, sliiiight voyeurism [if you squint], not a condom in sight-just the vibes, fingering, multiple org*sms, feelings of grief, shower sex, slightly toxic John Wick [he doesn't mean to, he's grieving], pillow talk, use of g*ns, hostage negotiation, talk of animal de*th and instruments involved, Charon/Winston/Santino/Dog involvement, possible relationship talk, attraction to "bad" men, making out in a car, quickie sex
synopsis: You meet a man named John Wick when he's dropping off his dog "Gunner" for a check up. From there, it's a slippery slope into a new world.
wc: 19. 7 k 😮💨
a/n: okayyy, yes, i did write this before finishing that one River Ward fic but this idea took me by storm in the dead of night. No I was not listening to my River Ward playlist when I thought of this, jeez what's with the third degree? my computer is actually trying to die on itself as i type this rn
You raised a brow at the man entering the clinic, wearing a red-stained dress shirt and tattered suit jacket.
"Hi," he began, walking up to the front counter as you straightened up before him.
"Hi," you repeated, meeting his dark eyes and internally wincing at the cuts on his face.
He was stoic, un-moving as he braced a hand on the counter. But his lips curled slightly in a smile. His hand slid, his forearm bracing the counter as he relaxed.
"Hi," he said again, this time his deep voice echoing through you. You couldn't help but return his polite smile, edging up on your toes to finally look down at his pet.
"Who do we have here?" You asked down at the beautiful dark gray pittie. The dog sat, tilting his head at you and you melted an inch staring into his cute light brown eyes.
"This is..." the man looked down at his dog and tilted his head with a loss of words. You raised a brow at him, waiting as he turned to look at you again with a slightly defeated look. "Gunner."
You huffed an amused air from your nose. "Cute, he looks like a Gunner."
The man nodded as you rounded the counter and took a careful knee before the pittie. "Is he friendly?"
"Absolutely." He barely managed to answer as the dog turned in the direction of you and started nuzzling into you.
His paws pattered the floor, stepping further into you and begging to be pet. You obliged, cooing at the attention-seeking pup, patting at his round body and scratching behind his ears.
You smooched at him, showering praise at this stranger's dog for a minute then looked up at the stranger himself. He was propped up on the counter, watching you love on his pet, with what you recognized as blood on his dress shirt.
"And is Gunner's owner friendly?" You cooed at Gunner, holding the dog's face in your hands to smush his cheeks.
The stranger scoffed, his lips curling in a wry grin before answering: "Gunner thinks so."
Your stomach fluttered at the stranger speaking, though you weren't sure if it was an instance of fight or flight. Meeting the stranger's dark eyes again, you quirked your mouth to the side.
"Does Gunner's owner have a name?" You asked, your bottom lip slipping between your teeth at the last moment.
"He does," the stranger answered as you slowly stood up from your place. His hand extended out for you to take, and you noticed his knuckles tattered with blood and swelling. "John."
You ignored whatever warning pang was rushing through your body as he introduced himself. Your hand reached out to grab his, minding your grip to not bring him pain. When you uttered your name, his smile only grew, finding himself pushing upright to tower over you.
"Nice to meet you." John said, his voice straining a bit.
"Same to you," you said, giving his hand a polite shake before dropping it and returning to your paperwork. "What're you bringing Gunner in for today?"
You stood outside of the clinic, circling through your ring of keys to find the one for your door. It never failed, with how many keys you had, it was always the last one you expected.
You bounced on one foot to keep yourself alert, filing through your keys in the unexpectedly cool night. You were already running late to meet up with friends and now you were battling your stomach rumbling.
As you were nearing the end of your key leash, you heard a few whistles from behind you. A cold ice jutted down your back, making your insides become rigid with the thought of being watched.
Still, you ignored it as best at you could, pretending to not hear whatever calls were over your shoulder. Your bouncing foot quickened, hoping you had found your out before whatever approached you.
With the final key try, you managed to lock the door and turn in the direction of your car only to be stopped by two tall men stood before you.
You excused yourself, backing away from them only to turn around to find two more men behind you. Staring at the men surrounding you, you glanced sideways into the street and stepped out.
"Where you goin' sweetheart?" One of the men called after you.
You held the strap of your bag tighter on your shoulder, your senses heightened as you heard the combined steps of the men crossing into the street.
You picked up your pace, scanning down both ways of the road with minimal cars around, only for their steps to heighten just the same. The rigid gulp that lodged in your throat was now cementing, your heart racing as you found yourself running across the street and onto the opposite sidewalk.
Your vision tunneled as you focused on getting away, unsure of what would happen if the strange men caught up to you. Turning down the perpendicular street, you barely glanced behind you as a car pulled up next to you.
The door swung open, over half of the curb, and you were almost stopped by it but managed around it. Looking at the car, you cautiously peered from a distance to see a slightly more familiar face than the strangers following you.
"Come on, I'll drive you to your car," John offered, his mannerisms unbothered and cool.
You looked behind you at the group of men now turning the corner after you. With another glance into the car, you saw Gunner and opted to take a chance with the slightly better devil you knew.
Climbing in, you shut the door quickly and looked over your shoulder at the goons left in the wake. You turned around to John, ready to share your gratitude but opted to catch your breath first.
You wheezed, holding the dash of the dark muscle car, and held your free hand to your chest. The instant adrenaline rush through your body was now wracking your heart, making your eyes water though you were unscathed.
"Are you alright?" John asked, one hand draped on the steering wheel and his other carefully cradling the gear shift.
You overly nodded, blinking away the mist of tears while your mind started to race with the horrific possibilities of what could've happened.
"T-thank you," you choked out, bringing your eyes away from John's dash to look at him. "I-I..."
John glanced over at you but said nothing else, only nodded in acknowledgement before changing the subject. "Your car's nearby?"
You nodded again, finally peeling yourself to sit back in the leather seat. You admired it for a moment, luxuriated by the curve and plush, but were interrupted by Gunner's wet nose to your ear.
You giggled, shrugging a shoulder up to get the dog to stop then reaching a hand back to pat his head. "Sweet boy."
John smirked dryly at your comment, slowing down to scan the two parking lots on either side of the street. "Here?"
You nodded, pointing to the right side of the street to your little rinky-dink car. "That's me."
You expected John to laugh at it, seeing as his car could literally drive circles around yours. But he didn't, only pulled into the lot and braked in front of it.
"Volvo's are a classic," he commented, gearing his car to remain stationary. He shifted slightly in his seat to face you.
You turned to do the same, noticing that he'd probably gone home to clean up and change; seeing as he was in a cleaner shirt, the blood on his knuckles nonexistent.
"Have a good night, okay?" He offered, meeting your eyes.
The adrenaline in your body pooled in that moment, making you feel jittery though you were pin still. You nodded again, wondering if you were nodding too much.
"Thanks. And thanks again for the ride, I appreciate it," you said quickly, unsure why your nerves were acting up now.
"Yeah," John drew out, looking at the back of his car, past Gunner and through the back windshield. "You gonna be okay?"
You nodded again, noting that you'd have to force something out. "Y-yeah, of course. I just don't know what their deal was. I'll be fine."
John's eyes skirted back to you, taking in your shaken demeanor with a once-over. "If you want, I could give you my number. In case it happens again."
He didn't want to mention how fast he'd be to escort you, but he was aware of his speed.
You held your hands in your lap, glanced down at them then back. "S-sure, it wouldn't hurt."
John watched as you carefully retrieved your phone and nervously unlocked it; turning the bright screen to him, he cradled the device and tenderly put his phone number in then turned it back to you.
You looked at him from your screen then back and saved it to contacts. "Thanks."
John said nothing else, only nodded; you gathered yourself, pulling your keys from your bag and opening the door to get out.
"Bye Gunner," you offered to the dog, reaching to pat his head. "Good night, John."
You climbed out of the car, tenderly shutting the door after yourself as John offered a polite wave through the front windshield. He geared his muscle car in reverse, throwing his arm behind the passenger seat to look behind and turn back onto the road.
You stood in the silence, watching as John drove off with your adrenaline in tow. Your heart pattered with a new sense, unsure of what to call it, but you stashed it away to rush to your car.
You found yourself lying awake, staring at the ceiling, in the middle of the night. Deliciously buzzed by two cocktails, you replayed the moments of the days events.
Hot stoic man walks in, hot stoic man has a dog, hot stoic man saves you from not-so-good guys, hot stoic man makes you feel safe.
You blinked slowly, your phone clutched in your hand while you tried to fall asleep. In a shock of embarrassment and a little confidence, you launched yourself upright and swiped your phone open.
Navigating through your phone, you managed to pause at the draft stage of sending John a text.
-Thanks so much againn for saving me tonight
You stared at your message for a moment, wondering if you should add more but decided against it at the last moment. You watched as the bubble popped up at the beginning of the thread, with the small status of the message as 'delivered'.
You sat still for a moment, your eyes threatening to close but in a long blink, your message went from 'delivered' to 'read'.
You froze, a new warmth starting from the inside of your chest, as your phone flopped onto the bed before you. You barely had the second to think of sending a 'i'm so sorry' text at realizing how late it was.
John: Is that what that was? I thought it was a friendly ride
He hadn't been able to sleep, finding himself at the Continental bar with 'Gunner' at his feet. John fingered around the rim of his glass, expecting the whiskey to dull his nerves but found himself brought back by your text.
You grinned dumbly at his response, snickering to yourself before gearing up your response.
-You're right. Thank you for the friendly ride to my car
You stared long at this response, wondering if did any good for the conversation. If this was even a conversation. You sent it anyways, but added further.
-I'm just thankful you were there when you were
John stared at his phone, glass cradled against his bottom lip as he stared at the messages that came in. His heart cinched for a moment, wondering if he was taking it too far. But it was a simple text exchange, nothing more.
John: I am too. Good night.
He paused in his message, feeling it to be too curt. You were just sharing your gratitude, nothing more. John understood, having felt the similar way of feeling cornered.
"Having a nightcap, are we?" Winston asked, sidling up behind John's seat.
"Winston," John stated.
"Jonathan," Winston offered back, pulling a chair open and sitting down. "I'd have expected you to be in bed already. Preparing for your long trip."
John glanced down at his phone, the open conversation between the two of you left on his end. "Yeah, but what can I say? Nerves got to me."
Winston quirked a brow in John's direction, tilting his head slightly at the sight of his phone upright. "There's no such thing as nerves with you."
John took a sip of his whiskey, letting it be his pause before he smacked his lips in appreciation.
"What is it?" Winston asked, undoing his suit jacket button.
John set his glass down on the bar and circled it under his fingers. "There's a girl."
"A girl?" Winston repeated, raising his eyebrows in slight surprise. "I fear I've heard that before."
John folded his lips together as he nodded, knowing that he'd said it a long time ago. "Yeah."
Winston took John's response with a purse of his lips, a tilt of his head. "So there's a girl."
"A woman," John corrected, turning his head in Winston's direction but not meeting his friend's eyes. "And I want to keep her safe."
"Then it's best not to interfere," Winston offered without a beat missed.
John found himself agreeing, but still opened his mouth. "I can't do that."
Winston's eyes steadied on John's stoic face, watching as his dark eyes finally rose to meet his. The older gentleman opened his mouth in a soft 'ah' then sucked his teeth in consolation.
"What're we going to do, then?" Winston asked, straightening up to the bar and raising his hand in a silent order to the bartender.
John picked up his glass again, sloshed the diminishing liquid around then pursed out a hard air. "I have an idea."
You managed to stretch yourself out at the foot end of your bed, holding your bright phone before your face while you tried to hold off of sleep.
There was no reason for John to respond back to you, especially with the time. You imagined that you had woken up this poor, tired man with diathesis just hours after getting home.
And you groaned in your sleep, feeling awful. With your next minute spurt of energy, you'd apologize to him for waking him up so late.
However, the buzz of your phone steeled you awake. You blinked at the bright screen before your face, eyes focusing on the message you received.
John: I am too. I know this is sudden, but would you like to get breakfast?
In the misty morning, you stood on the curb in front of your apartment building under your umbrella. You were patiently waiting for John to show up to take you to breakfast, hoping that it was the Greek diner just a few blocks from your job.
After a few moments, you expected a text from him saying you two would have to reschedule. It was only a matter a time, something you assumed was in the New York air. Plans were never fulfilled, always to be rescheduled.
Your inner plight was paused by the black, unmarked car that pulled up before you. Your reflection in the tinted windows was perplexed, taking a few steps back to assess your escape.
The driver side door opened and a well-dressed man wearing rimless glasses stood out and buttoned his jacket. You waited a moment, taking in the man's movements as he reached for the back door of the car.
"Miss, I've been sent by Mr. John Wick." The man announced, holding the back door open for you to get in.
You stared at the man for another moment in silence, pondering if you ever learned John's last name. You questioned if this man was trustworthy, even though he gave no reason to not be.
"Okay..." you drew out, looking both ways down the empty sidewalk before stepping cautiously towards the car. You folded your umbrella, setting it on the car floor.
You reluctantly climbed in, your nerves raising on their ends as you sat down and buckled your seatbelt behind the driver seat.
The driver smiled politely at you, shutting the door firmly before unbuttoning his suit jacket and climbing into the driver seat again.
He adjusted his mirror, buckled his seatbelt then geared the car into drive and turned on his veering signal. You held your hands in your lap, letting your bag slide to the empty space next to you.
"How do you know John?" You asked, attempted to fill the silence and calm your nerves.
The driver glanced back in his mirror after veering back onto the street, meeting your eyes with his polite smile reaching his gaze.
"Mr. Wick is a regular guest at my hotel." He offered, which didn't ease you very much.
You grinned cheaply at the driver, then let it drop. "Oh, of course."
You assumed, by John's paperwork for Gunner, that he lived nearby. You turned to look out of the tinted window, trying to map the area you were driving into.
The driver continued, "I am the concierge of the Continental. Mr. Wick has done a lot of work for my hotel."
Your raised your brows at that, glancing in the direction of the rearview mirror to meet the driver's eyes.
"My name is Charon," he finally introduced himself, hitting his turn signal down a caddy-corner street before stopping at the corner before sleek, marble stairs up to ornate glass doors. "Mr. Wick will see you inside."
You flinched as your door opened with a bellhop standing quietly on the sidewalk. Charon nodded after you, with you unbuckling your seatbelt and grabbing your bag and umbrella.
You stood under the bright awning of the hotel as the bellhop shut the door, leaving Charon to drive around the curb to park the car. You held your umbrella under your arm awkwardly, righting the strap of your bag as you took in the darkening sky of the morning.
"Miss," the bellhop instructed, holding his crisp gloved hand in the direction of the dry stairs.
You politely smiled, then walked up to the front door only to be greeted by yet another bellhop. Maybe you should've stopped when you got out of the car, feeling that each step you took brought the warning pangs back.
It felt like a distracted descent, the quiet luxury and decadence of the hotel drawing you in though it felt hostile just the same. The bellhop at the door guided you in the direction of the seating area, where patrons were gathered at white tablecloth tables in front of floor-to-ceiling windows to enjoy their breakfast.
Your heart continued to race as you walked through the lobby and into the seating area, feeling particularly under dressed compared to everyone else around you.
John sat at the table, with Gunner sat next to him, sipping at his black coffee. His eyes were trained at the doorway, glancing at his watch to track how much time he had left to spend in your presence.
Your eyes scanned the room before finally stopping at John. He was dressed in a cleaner suit, his hair combed away from his face and drinking coffee.
He paused in his drink, almost rushing to stand as he rounded the table to pull out your seat. You rested your umbrella on the arm of your chair then sat down, looking up at him with a smirk.
"What'd I do to deserve this?" You asked, allowing John to aid your seat under the table.
"N-nothing," John said, reaching to smooth down his hair as he sat down. "Just wanted to talk."
Your smirk turned into a smile, sitting up straight as if trying to perform for the hotel itself. John breathed in deeply, taking in your demeanor before calling the waiter over.
"Would you like some coffee?" John asked.
You nodded, holding your hands in your lap only for them to be occupied by Gunner's fat snout. You grinned down at the pup, scratching behind his ears as the waiter approached with a pristine cup, pouring into it with a shining french press.
"You know, when I was imagining what you did, I never imagined it was tied to this," you commented as the waiter set your cup down before you, then offered a fresh cream pitcher to the table.
John quirked a brow in your direction, taking another sip to punctuate his next words carefully. "You were imagining what I do?"
You gulped and paused, realizing that you had said your inside thought out loud. "I mean, I do for a lot of people. Mostly just walking by," you sheepishly offered in reason.
Staring across the table at this stoic man, you were reminded of staying up even later after you finally told him good night, picturing his face as your hand rested on your chest.
John gave away nothing, his eyes still while he mapped the soft expression on your face. He bit inside his lip noting the minute flush of your cheeks, how you shifted in your chair.
He scoffed in amusement, letting your excuse slide. "What did you think I did?"
You shrugged, reaching for the cream and pouring it into your coffee cup. You sprinkled in sugar from the decor bowl in the center, then used your own spoon to stir it together.
"Your paperwork said 'retired'," you began, another internal strike with bringing up your interested reading of his and Gunner's papers. "I thought you were maybe ex-military."
John's smirk lifted. "Something like that."
He leaned back in his chair, not wanting to puff his chest in pride. He had to remind himself that this was temporary again, the mantra in his head repeating over and over.
"Have you always wanted to work with animals?" John asked, deflecting the conversation from digging any deeper.
You remembered Gunner's head in your hands, looking down at your lap to playfully mush his face. "Kind of. I love seeing all of their sweet faces. I'd hate to see them in pain though, so it's the best and worst at once."
John couldn't help his trained stare on you, as you bowed your head to pet and praise at Gunner. He knew he was taking things in an odd direction, but he thought that it'd keep both of you safe at once.
"So, that's part of the reason I asked you here." John added, sitting upright as his hand braced the table. "I'm going out of town for work, about three days, and was wondering if you could watch Gunner for me."
You raised your head, immediately meeting John's eyes. "You want to leave him with me?" You metered your question, though you were excited for the opportunity to watch such a sweet dog.
That, and maybe you wanted to do the hot stoic man a favor. Whatever that was, your heart fluttered at the thought of doing what John asked. Even though you didn't know anything about him, even though he came in looking dangerous and was now portraying a clean slate.
It felt that he was the bright sliver in the imposing building, even though it was all cast in the rainy shadows. You were confused, your head almost done in by your survival bells ringing though you were still approaching the 'yes'.
John nodded. "Yeah, but here."
You leaned forward, unsure if you heard him correctly. While you hadn't thought of what your landlord would say about bringing pets back to your place.
John spared a chuckle at you, genuinely amused by your response. With a shrug of his shoulder, he leaned back again.
"I received a comp for my room, so I'd like for you and him to stay."
You stammered, freezing to think of what to say before shaking your head. Your eyes darted around the large darkly painted walls, ornate paintings and decorations nothing to what you were accustomed to.
"John, I mean..." you weren't sure what to say, knowing this wasn't an invitation to stay with him. "That's very generous."
His face softened, dropping his hand from the table to tilt his head at you. "Please. You'd be doing me a big favor."
Your mouth opened to argue him further, but John's expression was un-moving. He was still stoic, no indication that his offer had strings attached. Even with the atmosphere of the place itself, you found yourself caving.
"It's just a few days, right?" You reassured him, and yourself, by asking.
John's face broke, finding himself smiling again. His cheeks were beginning to ache, realizing that it'd been a while since he smiled so long.
"Yeah, of course. And they have in-house breakfast and dinner, a transit service that you can use to get to work." John noted, hoping that you'd take advantage of it all just to keep you safe.
"I can use it to go to work too?" You repeated, looking down at Gunner than back at his owner. "Can I take him to work with me?'
John's nose scrunched. "If you want, but I'm sure Charon would be able to check in on him when you're gone."
You nodded, looking down at Gunner again before reaching to sanitize your hands. "I think I can do that."
"Good," John said, pulling the menu up slightly to glaze over the menu. His eyes glanced to his wristwatch, knowing that he was losing time to make it to his flight.
Still, he made no quick effort to speed up his breakfast with you. You looked at the menu on the table, your mouth watering at the options available. Of course they were were gourmet, nothing short of the place itself.
You looked up from the edge of the menu, taking in more of this stranger's presence before speaking up. "What was the other reason?"
John froze for a moment, unfortunately caught off-guard by your question. His eyes still scanned the menu, trying to keep his expression at a minimum though his mind was now doubling back on his words.
He wryly smirked as he finally drew his eyes up to meet yours. "Just wanted to check in from last night."
John stood awkwardly before the front door of the Continental, wondering what the polite way to depart from you was. You stood before him, having to tilt your head slightly to meet his eyes. He was taller than you remembered, though you were taking him in while on your knees petting his dog.
"I have to go," John offered, reaching his hand out to brace your shoulder. "I'll let you know when I land."
You smiled, nodded. "Okay, and we'll be here. I hope you have safe travels."
John squeezed tenderly at your shoulder, feeling how fragile you were under the weight of his hand. He felt a soft weight off of his mind, knowing that the Continental was a steel trap for any unwanted guests.
His smile softened, dropping his hand to pet Gunner's head. "Good dog. Behave."
And at that, you watched John leave, raising your hand to wave after him before turning to Gunner.
"Your daddy's gone," you pouted, reaching to pat his thick back. "I guess we should get you upstairs."
"Allow me to escort you," Charon chimed in, silently approaching you from behind.
You flinched, sucking in a harsh air between your teeth. Charon offered an apologetic look to you, his hands clasped behind his back.
"My apologies, Miss. Allow me to escort you and Mr. Gunner upstairs," he offered again, waiting for you to regain yourself.
You adjusted your bag on your shoulder, shifting your umbrella under your arm then waved for Charon to lead. He carefully reached his hand out to take your umbrella, holding it as he led you to the elevator then handed it off to one of the bellhops.
"That is the Miss's. Please do not get them confused." Charon stated, calling the elevator button then holding his hand out for you and Gunner to board first.
Inside, Charon hit the 8th floor button, the antique number lever slowly raising from its resting place as the elevator lifted.
"So, you know John well?" You asked, unable to help yourself.
Charon lifted his chin, looking over his shoulder to you. He offered his tight smile, the same politeness as before. "I'd say so."
You nodded, mentally chewing on his short answer before thinking of another question. "How long has he worked for the hotel?"
Charon's lips changed into a smirk, noting your inquisitive nature. "Approximately 20 years."
Your eyebrows raised then, realizing that John had been working around the time you got your first pet. You folded your lips together, feeling your heart flutter while trying to decipher what that meant.
"Oh, so how long have you worked for the hotel?"
Your curiosity was beginning to get the better of you, each bit you were fed only bringing up more. The further you got from the ground level, the lighter you felt away from the depths.
Whatever darkness was harnessed in the lobby, the foreboding rattling snake vibe it gave, did not reach the upper levels. The elevator opened to the ornate, older decorated walls of the hotel.
The floors were carpeted in a sleek line design, the wallpaper an almost unnoticeable fleur design.
"Long enough," Charon said, chuckling at his own joke.
You spat out an amused air, following the concierge to the room. He stopped at the room at the end of the hallway, fishing into his suit jacket to retrieve the key.
Charon turned the lock, propping open the door for you to enter. You paused just inside the room, taken over by the view of the city from wide windows at the crest of the room.
The ornate decor was not scrimped in the room, seeing through the carved accent wall before walking around it. Gunner traipsed through the room, jumping onto the crisp white sheets of the large bed and sighing like he'd had a rough day.
You looked to Charon, who nodded into the room for you to take it in. You took your time walking through the hotel room, taken aback at the quality. Sure, you'd been in nice hotels before, having stayed in some with accrued loyalty points.
But this felt like a new feeling. It was strange, feeling swayed by the elegance of this hotel being used for you, to watch a pup that didn't seem swayed either way.
Pausing at the wet bar, you wanted to pull out your phone to take a picture just to show your appreciation for John's minimal effort. But looking back at Charon, he straightened his lips and exited the room.
When he left, you rushed to the window to look out at the city. Even with loyalty points, it never bought anything like this. You couldn't help yourself, pulling out your phone to take an overhead view of the city before setting your bag down on the accent table behind you.
You rushed around the room, looking at the other cool parts of the triangle-shaped room. Gunner was unfazed on the bed, resting his head down with a groan.
You had to stop yourself in the bathroom, gasping at the oversized mirror with the bright light inlaid inside the reflective surface. Watching such a good boy was not worth this treatment.
Still, you took a picture of yourself in the mirror, scrunching your nose and sent both to John at once.
-Are you sure about this?? Is there something you're leaving out?
John boarded his charter, retrieving his phone as it vibrated in his pocket. The smile on his lips was subconscious, seeing that you'd messaged him.
Opening his phone, he chuckled at the two photos you sent him. He read your message, finding himself lightened at the scrunch of your face in the mirror.
He paused before his seat, finding himself regretting boarding for the nth time since he left the hotel. John thought of what he would do if he went back, if you'd stay around and keep him company on the sacred grounds of the Continental.
John turned and sat, crossing his ankle over his thigh as he typed a response to you.
John: Oh, I did forget. He's a bed hog. And he likes to steal bacon off your plate. So watch out.
You sat on the bed, staring at the text thread between you and the stoic stranger. You smiled at his response, ready to send another text as soon as you retrieved it.
John: I made it to the plane. I'll let you know when I land. I can't thank you enough for this.
You nipped at your inside lip, wanting to thank him back for the outrageous accommodations. Wanting to thank him for breakfast. Wanting to thank him for his company.
-Okay, safe travels. I'd love to see where you're going.
John's smile remained, staring at your response as the ladder was pulled up and the engines turned on. He exited out your text thread, searching through his contacts to find another number.
"Jonathan," Winston answered on the third ring. He sat in the smoking lounge, with Charon approaching to report. "We have Persephone in the Underworld Palace."
John's jaw grit, attempting to skew the view of you having your own free will. You had the freedom to leave, he had to remind himself, though he wanted you to remain on the neutral ground.
"She showed me," John offered in response, feeling the palpable silence on the opposite end.
Winston and Charon shared a knowing look, with Charon raising his chin and checking his watch.
"Are you sure about this?" Winston asked.
John looked out of the small window to his right, sitting back in his seat as he thought of how long it'd take for him to return to the Continental grounds.
"It'll give me time to think of my next step," John said, reaching to buckle his seatbelt with one hand.
Winston sucked at his teeth, tilting his head in deep thought. "You're dangling her over the pond, Jonathan. Are you sure this is the safest thing you could think of?"
John pursed his lips, shutting his eyes for a deep breath. "I'll be done as soon as I can. I can figure it out from there."
Winston raised his brows in Charon's direction, who shook his head in response. "Safe travels."
Upon ending the call, Winston exhaled deeply and directed to Charon. "Make sure our young Miss and her companion are cared for. Don't allow her exit without escort."
Charon barely widened his eyes, pulling his hands behind his back, ready to execute his orders but Winston raised a finger. "And invite her to dinner on the roof. The four of us. For Jonathan's sake."
Charon nodded. "Of course, sir."
You stood in front of your closet, having been escorted back to your apartment by Charon and Gunner.
The concierge extended an invitation to you and Gunner to join the owner of the Continental for dinner. Apparently he was a close friend of John's and wanted to meet you, as it wasn't often John extended invitations to "outsiders".
You would definitely ask about that as you cycled through your clothes, wondering what dining with the manager fell under for dress code. Everything else was just thrown haphazardly to you weekender bag on your bed: clothes for work, some leggings for taking Gunner on walks, anything for comfort because you felt that you would step outside of the hotel room for anything other than work.
When your bag was packed with your toiletries tossed on top, you turned back to your closet to contemplate your dress code.
For a high-class hotel, you opted for a white long-sleeve dress with a built in silk bodice. It'd suffice, you shrugged, because it was your best dress in your closet. You paired it with your most comfortable flats and stuffed it all on top of your bag.
You grabbed your phone charger from the wall then rushed out of the door, making sure everything was off in your apartment. You carefully took the stairs down to the front door, throwing it open to Charon carefully waiting outside of the car for your return.
Gunner poked his happy face out of the driver's side window, staring at other onlookers in silence. You shut the door firmly behind you, grabbing your key to lock it after you.
Charon straightened on his feet, opening the back door of the car while his other hand extended to grab your bag.
"You don't have to--" you tried to argue on holding onto your bag in the backseat, but Charon was firm in taking the straps of your bag.
In a fluid motion, he shut the door after you righted in the backseat then went around the back of the car to open the trunk. You glanced after him, seeing that he didn't linger behind and closed the trunk then returned to the driver's door.
Gunner moved over to the passenger seat, that window open as well, as Charon geared the car into driver and veered back onto the street.
"What's your manager like?" You asked.
Charon glanced in the rearview, his polite grin ever present in his eyes.
"Mr. Scott is an old-fashioned type. Cordial, gentlemanly, with a taste of finer things."
You pursed your lips, looking out of the front windshield, then Gunner. When you looked back at Charon, he was once again fixated at the mirror, expectant of your next question.
"Should I...shape up?" You asked, aware of every movement you were making at that point.
Charon chuckled again, which you were unsure if genuine or sardonic towards you. "I believe you will be fine, miss. I think that Mr. Scott will enjoy your company and questions."
Your lips flattened in a slightly embarrassed smile then turned back to the window. "I'll start thinking of more now."
John paused by the bar of the Rome Continental, steadying his nerves before his mission. He had to remind himself that it would be this would be the last.
Even with the taste of being back, John's mind flashed with the thought of you. He choked on his sip of whiskey, clearing his throat while he stared at the crystal in his hand. Helen.
His mind flashed with the thought of Helen. John blinked, remembering his ring and circling it on his finger. When he felt his chest begin to heave with a new wash of grief, he stifled it with a long pull of his whiskey.
Just as his phone buzzed on the bar. John set the crystal back down, staring at the notification of your message and remembering that he meant to inform you of his landing.
Opening his phone, John was greeted with a photo of you sat on the bed with Gunner sat beside you. You were dressed in a short white dress, the bodice reflecting soft light as you leaned over his dog and hugged his head against your chest.
-We're having dinner with Mr. Scott, hope you made it wherever safely.
John felt struck in his place, staring at the photo in the growing thread of your messages. His heart skipping a beat before he finally picked up his phone to respond.
John: I made it safely. Never knew Mr. Scott extended dinner invitations, you must be lucky.
He looked through his entirely empty photo gallery to share the photo of the Colosseum from his plane window. John sent the message, let his phone clatter to the bar again as he sat back in his chair.
The rushing thought of you instead of Helen made him go askew, knowing that it was wrong to do. He grit his teeth, shut his eyes to remember his late wife's smile and not yours.
This was not what he wanted to happen, hoping to keep you at an arms length but still close enough to be safe.
You stared at your phone as Gunner jumped down from the bed, reading and rereading John's message before staring at the crowded overview of Italy from his plane window.
You zoomed in on the photo, staring at the Colosseum as the flattest fixture amongst all the little buildings, all of it resembling a miniature map.
John pushed himself up from his chair, pocketing his phone as he left the room with determination. He wouldn't be distracted by any feelings, regardless of who they were for, tonight.
Charon knocked gingerly at the door, alerting Gunner to the noise. You slowly stood, straightening out your dress and stashing your phone in its pocket then met the concierge in the hallway.
"This way, miss," Charon stated, starting in the direction of the elevator as before.
Inside the elevator car, Charon turned over his shoulder to look at you. "That is an elegant dress. You look very nice."
You smiled, practically beamed and offered your thanks; you pulled your textured hair behind your shoulder then looked down to Gunner.
The elevator lurched to a slow stop at the top of the hotel. The doors slowly opened to a long hallway, decorated the same as the others, with double glass doors that led out to a concrete patio.
Charon held the door open for you and Gunner, allowing the two of you to step onto the hotel roof patio. The view of the city was surrounding half of the balcony, with a larger building blocking directly beside it.
Your eyes fixated on the black glass patio table, decorated with an ornate black runner and four chairs. At the head of the table, you acknowledged the older gentleman as he stood up.
He approached you carefully, allowing you to take in that he exuded opulence and class, noticing the gilded pocket square in his dark suit jacket.
"Bonsoir chérie," the gentleman offered, gently taking your hand and bringing it up to his lips in a ghostly peck. "My name is Winston Scott, it is nice to meet you."
You smiled politely at him, tilting your head at Mr. Scott. "Nice to meet you too, Mr. Scott."
Winston carefully dropped your hand, his face playfully scrunching in offense. "Nonsense, call me Winston."
Your smile twitched further genuine, forfeiting your nicety to agree. "Okay. It's nice to meet you, Winston."
Winston winked at you, then guided you to your seat at the other end of the table. "You look radiant in that dress. I can see how you caught John's eye."
You giggled nervously, watching the older man pull your chair back. Turning your back to him, you tucked your dress to the back of your legs then sat down as Winston aided your chair to the table.
Winston returned to his seat at the opposite end of the table just as Charon pulled a chair for Gunner to sit to your left then rounded to sit to your right.
You looked at the good boy sat at the table, waiting patiently with his mouth open. You couldn't help but snort at the image, thinking that you should've found him a bowtie so he could've fit in for the dress code.
As Winston sat down, he waved a hand to direct the waiter over to the table. A tall martini glass filled close to the brim with an orchid colored liquid. The liquid held a light shimmer as you shifted the glass closer to grab; your eyes narrowed, looking at the beaded garnish at the bottom in a clump of red seeds.
Just as Winston and Charon received their drinks, the hotel manager raised his glass. "Salud."
You took careful hold of the thin-stimmed glass and raised it from the table, repeating Winston's cheers before bringing the drink to your lips. It was bubbly and light, sweet and tart at once.
From the bottom of the glass, you watched the garnish break apart and you opened your lips to ingest a seed with a gulp. When you were satisfied with your sip, you rested the glass back on the table then savored the taste as the seed slipped down your throat.
"Good cocktail?" Winston asked, smacking his teeth to savor his martini.
You nodded, shifting the glass to your left. "Is that cherry? Almost a shirley temple?'
Winston chuckled, shrugging a shoulder up before setting his glass down. "Close. It's pomegranate."
You hummed, letting the palette of the drink reignite on your tongue with that new knowledge. Charon looked over to Winston, sparing a slightly amused shake of his head.
Winston shrugged fully then, entertained by his own theme. "What is it you do, my dear?"
You straightened in your seat, looking over to Gunner enjoying his lap bowl of water then at Winston. "I work for a vet clinic, very small. That's actually how I met John."
Saying it aloud and remembering the timeline, your mind rushed with how fast things moved. You blinked slowly, your heart stumbling in your chest at remembering John a day ago compared to now.
Winston raised his brows: "Oh?"
You nodded and continued. "He brought in Mr. Gunner here for a check-up."
You reached to pat Gunner's head and he panted happily in your direction. Another soft wave of shock went through you, remembering what he looked like when he came into your clinic.
He should've been off-putting, and yet...
Winston tilted his chin, pursing his lips in intrigue. "Gunner, huh?"
You almost ignored Winston's comment, meeting his interested gaze from across the table.
"And he drove me to my car that night," you added finally, remembering with the sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach.
You had a nightmare about those men last night, one only fought off by your stoic man in a muscle car. Tightening your jaw, you reached for your drink and wet your lips again.
"Hmm," Winston offered after a moment, turning to Charon for any input.
The concierge was quiet, his own lips pursed in slight interest. Winston smirked waywardly, straightening up to brace his elbows against the table.
He carded his fingers before his mouth, staring across the table at you and wondering what it was that made John choose you.
"Jonathan always has had a soft spot," Winston said after another beat of silence.
You couldn't help your grin again, hearing John's full name. You imagined him as a younger Jonathan, introducing himself as such and Winston never letting it go.
"How long have you known John?" You asked, replacing your glass back to the table.
You realized you were dependent on your drink, noting the glass close to finished. All the garnish was sneakily slipped down with the liquid, leaving the sparkling drink to reflect the encroaching moonlight.
The patio overlights turned on, banishing the darkness and shadows from the area. Your nerves, charged since entering this place, were now directed to performing for John's cohorts.
Not that you needed their approval, you wanted to prove to yourself your etiquette. The nervous inkling in the back of your head was growing louder over the lush warmth, telling you that Winston and Charon would report back to John with their findings.
And you sat back in your chair to come to terms with why you cared. You did like John, but bit your tongue. There was no reason to go forth and ruin something as innocent as a friendship.
Winston chuckled, dropping his hands to the arms of his chair. "Since...he was a young man. Over twenty years, at this point."
You hummed, raising your brows as you looked between the two men across from you. You almost wanted to ask how old John was, the thought making you giggle behind your fingers.
"So a long time, then. Doesn't show for you, Winston." You commented, smirking playfully across the table at the older gentleman.
"Flattery will get you everywhere, my dear," Winston offered, lifting his glass to you and taking another sip.
With that, dinner was served and a plate was placed carefully before you. The seasoned smell of the marsala tickled under your nose and made your stomach engorge with hunger.
The sweet liquor was only making it worse, opening your mouth to drool at the elegant layout of your plate. You glanced over to Gunner, who was fed steak tips on a plate and heartily cleaned his bowl.
Your eyes dragged across the table, to see Charon and Winston staring at you in wait. You smiled politely, allowing the waiter to set a black cloth napkin on your lap before stepping back.
You thanked him, picking up your fork and knife to inspect them a moment before cutting into your chicken. The echo of silverware followed, with Charon and Winston cutting into their food and eating in silence.
You eagerly wanted to call John to talk about this dinner afterwards, but knew it would be better to wait for him to call first.
John sat down to catch his breath, exhausted after yet another night of fighting. Did he enjoy this? Sometimes he had to ask himself, seeing as how he kept going through it. He sat forward in his chair in the lobby, shuddering as adrenaline worked out of his system.
The longer he sat, the more pain that came onset. He winced as he sat back, feeling that he'd bruised a rib from falling through the Roman Continental window with Cassian. John slowly pushed himself up to his feet, approaching the front desk to request his passage home.
He went up to his room, returned back downstairs and awaited in the lobby for the first sign of daylight to make his way to the hotel.
In the meantime, John retrieved his phone and turned it on. When it cycled through, he expected a message from you.
He expected a message from you, especially after dinner. John thought of what awful stories Winston drummed up to entertain you without giving too much away. His top lip peeled back in an embarrassed scowl, already hearing Winston talk about a young Jonathan.
John thought of sending you a message, but thought of the time in New York. He wasn't even sure what he'd say to you. He wanted to ask about dinner.
So he did.
John: How was dinner with the infamous Mr. Scott?
You were escorted back to your hotel room floor as your phone vibrated in your skirt pocket. Gunner rushed up to the door of the hotel room, baring his teeth in a low growl as you stopped to grab your phone.
-Delicious, who knew Winston was such a gossip.
John raised his brows at his phone buzzing again, this time showing Winston calling him.
"Winston," John greeted, sitting back in his chair while his eyes fixated in the direction of the sunrise.
"Jonathan, she's a delightful little sprite. I am not surprised why you're taken with her," Winston offered, carefully taking his stride to the elevator after letting you be excused first.
"I'm sure you've entertained her," John offered, actively ignoring his mentor's comment while his stomach sank.
"She's great at listening, Charon said she was full of questions." Winston looked over his shoulder to his concierge, who shrugged. "Am I off-putting to questions, Jonathan?"
John noised in response, stashing a slight grin. "I wouldn't say that. Maybe Charon is more...approachable in general."
"That is why I hired him," Winston said, pushing the call button for the elevator. "Has she contacted you?"
John scrunched his mouth to keep from reacting, knowing that Winston could hear his lies. "Not yet. I'm sure she's had a long day."
Winston scoffed over the line, stepping into the elevator and motioning for Charon to hit the button for your room first. "I'm sure she has. She seems to fit here, in a sense."
John grit his jaw, stashing the sudden jolt of fear through him. "I'll be home tomorrow."
Winston quickly gave up, nodding at the line. "Bueno notte, Jonathan."
John pulled his phone from his ear and ended the call, receiving your text soon after.
Gunner stood on guard before your front door, nosing at the crack while you waited for Charon to arrive with your key. You stashed your phone again as Gunner wedged himself through the crack of the door then threw it open with a slew of heavy barks.
You ran in after him, narrowly missing a harsh shove from a dark-dressed figure. They attempted to push past you and outside, but you threw a knee out to connect with their gut.
You were a rattled mess as the person fell to the floor, their face covered in a hood and mask. Looking around the room as they tried to crawl away, you grabbed at one of the ornate vases at the entryway and threw it at their head.
Still, they moved and you stamped your foot onto their back as Charon turned the corner with Winston behind. You were frozen, putting more of your weight on the stranger's back as Charon finally assessed the situation and ran to the room.
"My dear, are you alright?" Winston asked, standing aside as Charon picked up the burglar and dragged him out of the room.
You stared fixated after the stranger, your body trembling as your breath was shortened. You heaved, unsure of what you were but aware that you once again could've been hurt.
That if Gunner wasn't around, you would've been attacked. You were stiff, even as Winston touched your arm.
"Come now, let's go downstairs, hmm?" Winston offered.
You barely nodded, feeling your eyes sting with the threat of tears, and Winston guided you to the elevator. Gunner followed suit, leaving Charon to clean up.
John: Let's hope its all good things. I'm leaving first thing in the morning. Let's do lunch.
You sat in the smoking lounge, curled up on the leather couch while Winston offered you a cup of espresso. He'd gone to his office and retrieved a decorative throw blanket to match the rest of the opulent hotel.
He carefully draped the cloth over your legs, allowing you to sit in stunned silence as he sat in the leather chair next to you.
Winston mapped your face, wanting to find the inside of the shock. He wondered if you would question why the person appeared, or for what. But when you gave off nothing, he gave up and sat back as he received a message about John Wick.
Followed by a number, with a lot of zeros. He stashed a gulp, straightening his chin as he glanced over to you again.
"I apologize, my dear, but I urgent business to attend to. Charon will be here with you."
You nodded, bringing the small cup up to your lips for a sip. The instant bitter brought you out of your flight mode, looking after Winston before Charon took his seat before you.
"W-what happened to that person?" you asked, never catching if that person was a man or a woman. You wanted to ask more, but were sure that no answers would help.
Charon sat tall and stiff in his chair. "I phoned the police and they have detained them at the station," he lied, though his face gave no indication.
You shuddered, looking down at your espresso then back. "Did they take anything?"
"No, miss. All of the hotel's belongings are accounted for. I can't say the same for yours, but we can assess that when we change your room."
You knitted your brows in concern. "You're moving me?"
Charon blinked and smiled politely. "If you wish, miss. We would like you to feel safe."
You looked back down, nodded in agreement to his statement. But you didn't feel that the room was tainted, unsure if it was tattered looking for something.
"Is...is the room still intact?" You asked, bringing the espresso cup to your lips again.
Charon nodded once. "It is no detriment to move. It would be the floor below."
The more you thought of it, the dark shadows of your room would be the same on any floor. The new room would only call for the next stranger to slither in. You shook your head.
"No, I'll be fine," you said quickly, setting your cup down as Gunner sighed, resting his head on your thigh. "He'll keep me safe."
Charon glanced to Gunner then back. "He is a good guard dog. He should be employed."
The night went on too long, with you stationed in the smoking lounge to nurse your espresso. Your nerves, despite the coffee, eventually calmed with Gunner finding his temporary bed on the leather couch.
Charon sat with you in silence, allowing you to regain yourself until you were ready. Finally, you patted Gunner's back, waking him then moved to stand.
You threw back Winston's throw on your arm, grabbing your empty espresso cup to return to the bar. Charon took the blanket from you, folding it as he walked you out of the lounge.
He handed off the blanket to the bellhop, leading you and Gunner to the elevator and escorting you upstairs to your room. It hadn't occurred to you how much time had passed, the smoking lounge offering no clock or windows to acknowledge it.
As the three of you ascended, and you found yourself lightening once again the further you got from the ground floor. The trudge back to your room was quiet, with a bellhop stood outside of your door.
"Please let us know of any missing items," Charon offered, holding his hand out for the bellhop to open the door. "If you have any concerns, do not hesitate to alert this kind gentleman."
You glanced to the bellhop, who stood astutely in the corner of the hallway. You looked to Charon and nodded. Charon opened your door and held the door for you to enter, and you took careful steps inside.
The room was untouched, with only the entryway vase missing. You sucked air between your teeth, hoping that John wouldn't be charged for the decoration missing. Charon handed off your room key, letting the door shut after you.
When the door was closed, you kicked off your flats then walked cautiously around the room. Every lamp in the area was turned on, leaving no shadows. You exhaled deeply and sat down on the bed.
You rested on your side, staring over at the bar of the room as Gunner jumped onto the bed behind you. The curtains were pulled to hide the windows, leaving you in the warm glow of the lights.
Slowly, you let the events of the day lull you away to sleep but not without a few startled jolts to double-check the room. Soon, you conceded and drifted off, curling into yourself to keep yourself safe.
You woke up with another jolt at the sudden brightness of the room. The lamps of your room were shut off, the curtains drawn back to show the bustling city and the sun bouncing off of the nearby bridge.
Your eyes curled around the room until you were frozen by the dark dressed figure at the side of your bed. Slowly, your eyes drew up to meet John's scraped face, his hair combed back his ears.
You broke then, rushing up from your place in bed to curl your arms around his neck. You shuddered into his shoulder, your bottom lip pouting as you shut your eyes.
John barely recognized how long he'd been watching you sleep, knowing that it was wrong to do. But he was gauging his next moves.
His attempt had done nothing to keep you safe; his eyes looked around the room, seeing it as a ruined castle. When you hugged him, he was shocked out of his thoughts.
John folded an arm around your waist, holding you against him but not with his full strength. He knew it was better to keep you at an arms' length.
He'd failed you and Gunner, leaving you both in the security of what he imagined as powerful but was now realizing less.
You squeezed closer to him, steadying your breath the more you held on. John shut his eyes to breathe you in, stiffening as he realized his action.
He turned his face into your neck, unable to control himself, and breathed against your skin. Your chest tightened, the warmth of his breath rolling down your body.
Slowly, you turned to meet his cheek, finding your mouth parting in a soft pant. John found himself pulled in further, turning to meet your mouth and lean in to kiss you.
Your hand raked up his neck to clutch the nape of his hair, barely letting the moment be taken as mistake, and kissed him feverishly.
John's hand slid down your back, over your hip to grab the back of your thigh and pull you further into him. His eyes squeezed shut, following the efforts of your lips before taking lead and slipping his tongue in.
You groaned into him, your other hand grabbing at the front of his suit jacket. John pushed down the dull pain in his body, letting all other thoughts take backseat as his lust took over.
Gunner whined, making both of you part in a soft pant. John dragged his eyes from you then to his dog, shaking his head once.
He guided his dog to the front door, opening it to the bellhop. "Would you mind taking him on a walk? I think I've got it from here."
The bellhop nodded, calling after Gunner as John lightly shooed his dog to follow him. After the two were down the hallway, John shut the door and locked it before returning to you.
You thought he'd have regained himself in the moments away, returning to your friendly charade before breaking for brunch. But John resumed at your lips, his hand clutching the back of your thigh before folding you across the bed.
You were overcome with his touch, hazy with the rush. Your hands found their way into his hair, the other at the buckle of his belt as you slowly followed his lead.
John bit back with a hiss, feeling your fingers fumble at his waist. His hand went to cradle your cheek, kiss you deeply, before retracting his hand to grab your wrist.
He slid your fingers further down his waist to acknowledge the urgent swell of his cock. Both of you parted from your kiss in shock; you glanced down your bodies as John stared down at you.
He was approaching an edge he'd never imagined again, his body alight with heat. You shifted up on your side, attempting to roll onto John. However, John's knee shifted onto the floor and turned at the foot of the bed, pulling you onto his lap as he faced the window.
You straddled his waist, your knees on the carpet as you looked down at your hand still rubbing his cock. John stared up at you, his eyes dragging down to acknowledge the open shoulders of your dress.
He carefully reached behind you, unzipping your dress to peel the top of your bodice down, revealing your breasts. You shuddered again, your chest heaving at the sudden cool of the room.
John leaned in to catch your lips again, guiding your hand to undo his belt and pants. The two of you shared a few desperate moans, finding yourselves drawn together.
He freed his cock with a part from your mouth. He attempted to find his words, to ask if this was okay for you two to do. John knew they were careening to something both unavoidable and difficult to walk back from.
You rested your forehead against his, sharing his breaths as you shifted closer. With a lick of your lips, you tasted him on you; you reached under the skirt of your dress, peeling your panties to the side before lining up and sinking down on John's bare cock.
His face was gorgeous as it broke, his brows knitted as his mouth pouted, as if he were about to cry from the feeling. You sighed deeply in his face, your eyes lulling at the slow pop of his hot cock head into your wet pussy.
Your hand found its way into the nape of his hair as you sank down on his length, tilting his head back to ghost your lips before his.
John's tattered knuckles braced your hips, following your direction down onto him. He hissed, letting a moan slip from his lips. Consequences be damned, John thought, rocking your hips into him before ducking his forehead to your shoulder.
You groaned, turning your head back to the ceiling and following his hands rocking you into him. The two of you paused in relief, feeling the heat build between your bodies.
John brought himself back with a peck to your collarbone, then another as he crossed over your chest then down timidly lap at your velvety breasts.
He chastised himself for thinking of squeezing you, hardening his touch and speed on you. John knew that he'd break you eventually, but he'd stave off his darkness for the time being.
You worked up the courage to pull off of his cock, turning to moan into John's ear as you did. You barely made it to his tip, finding your core begging for him again and sinking back down.
John groaned, tilting his head back against the bed to meet your gaze. His dark eyes were dangerous, dark pools yet enriching and inviting. You took hold of his shoulder, working up to a slow ride as you leaned into him.
John trembled, unable to blink as you rode him in the morning light. He was overwhelmed with infatuation, a sickening salacity the more he spent under you.
He was reactive by you, whimpering and twitching as you rode into him, kissed him breathless. John felt that he'd met his match, an unbeatable adversary though he never wanted to cross you.
The sun haloed around your body, making your skin golden in his presence. John came back to you again, hearing your moans heighten as you were brought closer to climax.
You found yourself grinning down at John, seeing his eyes focus back on you. Your hand went to his jaw, then combed through his hair before resting at his neck. "Did I lose you there?"
John spared a blissed-out grin, parting his lips to catch your kiss again. He'd never admit it.
You cried into his mouth, feeling within grasp for your undoing. John hissed and kissed further into you, his other hand reaching under your skirt to touch your clit.
You bent your back into him, panting into his mouth with a cry of his name to follow. You felt the brightness of the room begin to blind you as you approached the edge; your hips rocked a little firmer, trying to pull John overboard with you.
Finally, you broke with a loud moan, twitching on John's cock as he bucked further into you and climaxed. You writhed on him, your fingers clutching hard into the nape of his hair as you tried to catch your breath against his mouth.
"John," you cooed, pushing yourself further into his body to chase his warmth.
He grabbed at your shoulder, attempting to still you over him as your walls begged for his cum. John shut his eyes upon release, snapping back into his conscience and realizing his impulse.
When you regained a bit of yourself, you spared a few amused huffs, pulling upright to meet John's gaze. You watched as his lustful eyes draw back and you combed through his hair.
"Hi," you said, humming at the stoic man against you. "How was your trip?"
John did his best to smile, pulling your elbow in to kiss your bicep. He dragged his lips up to your shoulder and kissed again. "Could've been better."
He didn't want to ask too soon about your night, having already heard from Winston. John knew it was dangerous to return directly to you, but he had to be sure.
And now he knew that wasn't the only reason. The two of you stayed in place for some time, taking in each other. John glanced over your shoulder to the widespread window behind you, noticing a glint from across the roof.
He held you still, staring further as his eyes narrowed on the long barrel of a sniper. John stashed a frown, turning back to you to appreciate you.
He was sickened by himself, seeing you as his shield for the time being. John exhaled, reaching down to tap your butt playfully.
"Why don't we close the curtains, call in some breakfast?" He asked, fighting against his racing heart.
You bit at your bottom lip, slowly pulling off of John's cock with a whine before turning and pushing to your feet. You grabbed the ends of the curtains and pulled them tightly closed.
John deflated against the end of the bed, looking down his battered suit. He was taken aback at how you mounted him in such a disarray.
You reached to unzip the rest of your dress, but was met by John's lips on your shoulder. You shut your eyes, soothed by the warmth of his mouth.
He slipped his hands down your arms, shrugging your dress from your body and leaving you in your panties, bare in the front of the room.
John shrugged off his jacket then circled his arm around your waist to direct you back to bed. "Go on, I'm coming."
You followed his order, climbing onto the bed and peeling the comforter back. John pulled his belt from his pants, did the same for his tie before unbuttoning his shirt and dropping his pants.
He hurriedly undressed, though you never saw any effort. He moved intentionally towards you, resting a knee on the bed then the other as he grabbed your ankle and pulled you back.
You stretched your arms out above your head, finding yourself directly under John. Your faces aligned, his eyes skirting over your face. His hand cupped your cheek, his thumb tempted at the corner of your mouth.
At the same time, his other hand circled around your stomach then down your hip before sliding his fingers into your wet pussy. You crooned, raising your hips to chase his touch and meet his body.
John kissed your chin, admiring the breaking on your face. He dragged his fingers in and out of you slowly, tracking every minute pinch and wain of your face.
"You're beautiful," he whispered, finding his words to not be his own.
John felt detached from himself, swirling a dark abyss of desire he hadn't thought of for a long time. You grabbed onto John's bicep, sucking in a breath between your teeth before moaning when his thumb folded against your clit.
"J-John," you stammered, your fingers clutching tighter as you found yourself fighting off another climax.
It was too late when you realized the bruises on his body, the wounds decorating his lean torso. Your mouth gaped with another croon, squeezing your eyes shut suddenly as you came on his fingers.
Warm rushes wracked through your body, causing you to roll further into John while you fought off the sight of his body being your undoing.
John's thumb at the corner of your mouth peeled back your bottom lip, flattening his finger along your gums. You pulled his hand further into your mouth to sensually suck at it before dragging it along your bottom teeth.
John was pulled further, the look in your eyes along with the feeling of your pussy around his fingers making it difficult to find pause. You licked the tip of John's thumb, dragged it down your body as he trailed his eyes after it.
His stomach sank then, his hand paused and flattened between your breasts. Staring back at him, as he felt your heart thrumming under his touch, was his wedding ring.
John's hand began to shake, staring at its placement against your body. You stared up at him, seeing that he was no longer meeting your eyes and was fixated at the placement of his hand.
He felt the room go askew, finding himself getting yanked out the abyss and washed ashore. John half-blinked, pulling his fingers out of you before climbing off of the bed and walking away to the shower.
You sat up on your elbow in John's wake, turning your head to watch him walk away. "John?"
You were unsure of what you did, if anything. But now, you were left bare. Righting yourself on the edge of the bed, you slowly followed after John into the bathroom.
John set his ring on the bathroom counter as he reached around the glass wall to turn on the shower head. He welcomed the silence for a moment, wanting to sieve through his thoughts as tangled as they were.
Stepping under the spray, John sighed and dropped his shoulders. He let the warm water roll over his body, drip down his hair as his muscles began to relax.
You stood at the door of the bathroom, watching John in silence before stepping up to the shower wall.
"Can I join you?" You asked softly, not looking up at him as if you'd done something wrong.
John waited a beat, shutting his eyes as he nodded under the rainfall spray. "Yeah."
You peeled your panties to the floor then stepped out of them and into the shower. You let the warm water dampen your hair, letting you slick it down between your shoulders as you turned your back to John.
The two of you shared the shower as if you were strangers still, the air palpable and dewy.
John raised his head and slicked his hair back, glancing over his shoulder to you. You wrung out your hair, turning under your arm to look at John and taking in his back tattoo.
You were taken in, turning around slowly to drag your eyes along his full back tattoo. You reached a finger out to touch at the center cross behind prayer hands.
John stiffened at your touch, his eyes overly blinking from the weight of the water on his lashes. You traced your finger around, noting the words between his shoulders without understanding what it meant.
"I was married before," John offered in the silent patter of the shower.
It was the least of what he wanted to say, his want for you and his feeling for his wife leaving him suspended in telling the truth. John swallowed, dropping his head to his side as you paused at bruise on his love handle.
"I still wear my wedding ring..." he admitted, his chest shaking for a moment, "it hurt to look at."
You paused dropping your head against his shoulder as your hand circled his side. "I'm sorry. You should've stopped me."
John straightened up then, turning around to face you. His tattered hands cradled your face, searching your eyes for an ounce of disdain towards him.
"I didn't want to stop..." John whispered, leaning in to nudge his nose against yours. "I...don't want to stop."
You let your eyebrows screw up in confusion, wanting to know what this stranger wanted. Because with learning more about him, you remembered again that he was a stranger.
"I want you," he muttered against your lips, tilting your chin to peck your lips, "to make it stop hurting."
Your heart lurched into John, feeling that he was saying it wrong but not wanting to dwell on it. You let your attraction give him leeway, letting him take your mouth again and soothe away your doubts in an instant.
You bowed into him, quavering as his hands slipped down your neck, then shoulders and elbows; he took in the slippery feel of your skin, admired how you molded into him this way.
He inhaled deeply through his nose, circling his fingers down to your hips and around the small of your back. John felt the swirl draw him back in, the taste of your mouth sickly sweet.
He bit away from you, hissing between his teeth as he tried to dampen the muddy thoughts within him.
You held your hands at John's sides, opening your eyes to witness the turmoil on his face. Your own stomach turned, lifting on your toes to kiss him again.
John nipped your bottom lip, pulling back on his hold to turn you around to the shower wall. He felt his vision tunnel on you, dragging his hand down between your legs to greet your pussy with his wet fingers.
Your nipples graced the cold granite of the shower wall, bracing with a soft gasp before John's fingers slipped into you. You rested your forehead against the granite, unable to hold back the moan lodged in your throat.
Your shoulders worked back, spreading your legs to allow John's touch further. John flattened his hand on the granite next to your face, lining himself up behind you.
He pulled his fingers out, using his hand to stroke his strained cock. John bowed his head, guiding his length into you and groaning at the welcoming warmth of your walls.
His hand went to your hip, gripping you tightly as he attempted to level himself. Your nose smushed against the granite, your mouth gaped open as you panted against the hard shower wall.
Your hand reached back to touch John but he took your hand and crossed it behind your back. He pumped into you once, earning another noise from you.
When he withdrew, your walls begged at his return; he pumped in again, making your knees buckle slightly.
John bent forward, kissing at the back of your neck before nipping at your shoulder. You turned, squishing your cheek against the wall to watch John's lips migrate down your back.
Your other arm folded directly before your chest, allowing the dampened air to coagulate in your lungs. John was slow in his pace, metering his noise to hear you echo against the stone walls.
His free hand reached around to ghost his fingers over your clit, allowing himself to get lost in the clench of your walls. John's lips trailed over the back of your shoulders, baring his teeth to nip at your skin.
He was painfully aware of how much he wanted to hoard you, to keep you stashed in this room with him with no end in sight. John knew he'd be able to to protect you alone for how ever long you wanted to stay with him.
The closer you got your climax, the more John became infatuated. Every moan of his name, he was dragged further into you, ready to use his resilience for whatever means to please you.
He pulled you off of the wall, draping your body against his chest; John's hands slipped over your wet body, pushing you further into him as you finally came on his throbbing cock again.
John lost his control, ducking his face into your neck to mutter his praise.
You rested your head on John's lap, staring across the bed at the breakfast tray by his feet. You tried to make yourself small in his dress shirt, wanting to take up as much of his warmth as possible.
Brunch had encroached into lunch, the Continental eggs Benedict turned into a nice club sandwich and fries.
John wanted to remain in the solace of the room a bit longer, knowing that he'd have to leave and face his consequences. As long as you didn't have to, John would task himself to clean up his mess better than before just so you wouldn't suffer.
He folded the newspaper in his hands around to scan the inside pages as Gunner sniffed in the direction of John's abandoned club.
You reached out to grab a few fries from John's plate, dragging them across the white comforter for Gunner to take.
John flipped to the next page, disinterested in the sports section. "I saw that."
You side-eyed Gunner then glanced up at John. "No you didn't."
John shook his head, eyes lazily dragging over the fine print of the newspaper. He looked so comfortable in this state, how you imagined he spent his Sunday afternoons at home.
"How long were you married?" You asked, feeling the comfortable silence grind to a screeching halt. It had plagued you since he mentioned it and no matter how many times John made you cum to keep you quiet, the question still remained.
John's eyes glanced down at you, his face never moving from the direction of his newspaper. His chest tightened at the question, feeling his ring finger pulse when you asked.
He relaxed his shoulders, folding his newspaper haphazardly before resting his hand on your shoulder. You shifted in bed, propping your chin up on the tops of your folded arms; John's hand migrated to the middle of your back, admiring how good you looked in his dress shirt.
He praised the tailor's choice for a dark shirt, hiding the blood staina better. John thought of how dangerous his hand was, how many men he'd taken down with just them. And he was tenderly rubbing your back.
"Five years," he said after a few beats of quiet. John set the newspaper on his lap, holding it there with his hand.
You raised your head, shifting closer to John. The two of you were past the formality of tiptoeing hard subjects, you felt. At this point, you knew that there was two possibilities of this ending: in bitter tragedy or a new beginning for the both of you.
So you asked: "What's her name?"
"Helen," John said, turning his full face to you. He decided to get ahead of your line of questioning, to explain how you were both here now. "She died earlier this year. She told me..."
He was cinched then, imagining her handwriting on Daisy's kennel. John felt the pain bubble up again, seeing his wrongs. "That I needed to love something more than my car."
He chuckled mirthlessly, hiding a gulp that lodged in his throat at his last word. Your brows raised slightly, sitting up on your elbow.
You two were there yet and, while you knew that to be true, you wanted to get there. Hopefully, one day.
"That's why I got Gunner," John added, seeing your reaction and realizing another mistake.
The two of you let the collective sigh alleviate the room, allowing you back down to rest your head on John's thigh.
"I'm sorry for your loss," you offered, reaching your hand out to tenderly caress his bruised side.
John nodded, resuming his hand on your back. The two of you returned to your previous action, your eyes lulling with the temptation of sleep.
The questions were hard to wade through; John understood that if you were going to be around in the dark pond, you would soon learn about the very facade he put forth.
He cleared his throat, ready to admit his hard truths that he left behind; it would be easier for the both of you to leave the Underworld unscathed.
John's phone vibrated from the nightstand and he was tempted to silence it. The precarious bubble surrounding the three of you was already threatened, and John didn't want a call to break the tender surface.
He picked it up, realizing that it was a message from an unknown number. John stared at it, seeing that it was an attachment but made no moves to unlock his phone.
You heard your phone begin to vibrate, somewhere discarded in your dress skirt pocket. You groaned, rolling your head back and forth on your hands with the attempt to convince yourself that it was a text.
But then your ringtone began to chime. John heard it too, turning his head in the direction of it. His hand became heavier on your back, attempting to keep you in place.
"Hold that thought," you said, sitting up to kiss John before climbing out of bed.
John's eyes were trained on you, watching as you pulled his shirt to its full length, barely covering your bare ass. He watched intently as you bent, searching through your dress to find the offending phone.
You stood up, rolled your eyes at the Caller ID and answered to your coworker. "What's up?"
Her voice on the other end was slightly shaken, telling you that there was a puppy brought in that was hit by a car.
"I-I can't deal with putting him down, can you come in?"
You glanced over your shoulder to John and Gunner, both of them enough reason to stay in bed. John sat back again the headboard, draping his arm over it with the invitation for you to return to his side.
You groaned in annoyance, bouncing on one foot in the slightest of tantrums. "Can't you call someone else?"
"I-I tried, but one of them is at a Communion and the other is out of town."
You pouted, knowing that you being the single one in a vet clinic meant that you were left to do the dirtiest of work.
"I guess....I can be there within the hour." You forfeited, turned to John as you said it.
And just like that, John's bubble burst.
"You didn't have to drive me here," you said as you and John sat a red light.
"Why wouldn't I?" He asked, reaching over to rest his hand on your knee.
You scoffed, turning to John. "Because I know you've got to be tired from your travel. I could've gotten Charon to bring me."
You were appreciative of John driving you on such short notice, but you wanted to give him a little space. It still felt too fresh, whatever you had, and you didn't want to impose so much that he ended up pushing you away.
"Please, I'm a faster driver," John said with a grin as the light turned green. He let his foot of the brake, tempting his gas pedal as he tilted his head at you. "And I don't want you depending on Charon when I'm around."
You smiled, reaching over to touch the back of John's neck. You could get used to touching him, running your fingers through his hair or scratching his beard. But you were getting ahead of yourself.
"Thanks," you offered softly just as John pulled up on the curb in front of the clinic. "I'll call you when I'm done?"
John nodded, leaning into your hold as you kissed him. "Maybe we can do dinner?"
You laughed. "Hopefully it won't be that long, but we'll see."
You kissed him again, then a third time before you hummed against his lips knowing that you were on an urgent timeline. "Okay, okay. I'll see you in a bit."
You threw open your door and got out, carefully shutting the door of John's car. He bent across the center, offering a wave to you as you opened the door to the clinic and looked back a final time.
He watched you walk in, though his stomach dropped as the door shut behind you. Something felt wrong and his proven instinct was off.
John's phone buzzed again in his pants pocket and he geared his car to retrieve it. Another attachment sent by the unknown number, this time with a message to follow.
Unknown: Come out, John. We have something you want.
You looked around the clinic, seeing most of the offices shut down for the weekend but the light in the exam room on. You called after your coworker, flipping on the overhead lights in the lobby.
When you got no answer, you looked over your desk for paperwork then started towards the back room.
John reluctantly opened the message thread from the unknown number, his heart clenching at the first photo. Of you and him, from the view of the window earlier that morning.
Though you looked so beautiful on his lap, your dress exposing down your back in the morning light, John was chilled at the angle. The same position of the sniper that morning.
He looked after you, seeing that you'd disappeared further into the clinic, then went to the second photo. You, through the view of a porthole window, wearing the clothes you'd changed into. He noticed his own car from the glass door.
John shut off his car and threw his door open, haphazardly closing it before running after you into the clinic. He tapped his side, acknowledging his gun stashed in his waistband and drew it when he was inside.
He called after you, hearing no answer as he looked around the sterile, quiet clinic. John straightened up, holding his gun out as he continued stepping cautiously.
"Hello John," a voice responded from the double doors into the surgery room. "You've been a hard man to track down."
John grit his teeth hard enough to hear his jaw resound. His nostrils flared as he tried to level himself, knowing that he had to keep a strong front.
"I thought 7 million would've made you an easy target, but you're a smart man to hide."
"I wasn't hiding," John retorted, not allowing the comment to show him a coward.
He stepped up to the wall, trying to see into the bright room. John caught a glimpse of you, petrified against Santino's shoulder as his hand grasped your mouth.
You stared, bewildered through the small porthole window, catching a glimpse of John's face. You barely shook your head at him as Santino raised his gun to shoot out at the glass.
"Right," Santino continued, pointing the gun to your temple and making you panic, crying at the thought of his finger slipping. "You had gotten distracted. Which is dangerous in your line of work, you know that."
You gulped, quivering in the hostile man's hold. John righted himself against the wall, popping the clip to check his ammo. He took another careful breath, turning back in the direction of the window before ducking across to the other side.
"You could've tried getting out again, but you'd just end up owing somebody...again," Santino taunted, playfully tilting his gun about as he thought of it. "And then when the next wife dies along with the next sad pup, the cycle of John Wick would continue."
You whimpered, looking out and darting your eyes back and forth to find John anywhere. John couldn't find an answer, thinking more about what he was putting you through and what it would mean for him to stop.
If he could stop.
He didn't want to admit it, but Santino was right in a sense. John didn't want to keep owing people for the life he'd been luck to have once.
He especially didn't want to do it twice. Not that you weren't worth it. But danger seemed to lurk whether he was in or out.
"It wouldn't happen again," John said finally, after thinking for a moment. "I wouldn't let anything bad happen to her."
Santino tsked, turning the gun back to your head. "It's a little late for that. Look at where we are now."
John shut his eyes, coming to terms with his consequences once again. He carefully put the safety back on his gun and held it to his side.
"Fine," John said, pushing open the double doors. You cried from behind Santino's hand, incoherently begging for John to do anything else. "You're right."
Santino huffed amusedly through his nose then looked down at you. "You need something done, you do it yourself, eh?"
Santino turned the gun onto John, readying to shoot as you noticed the reflection of his pistol in something on the stainless steel table.
Looking down, you noticed a full syringe of clear liquid. You flicked your eyes back to John as he saw your eyes look away.
He barely nodded in your direction as Santino pulled back the hammer of his gun and readied to shoot John. "No hard feelings, John. Just avenging my sister."
At the same time, you felt his arm loosen around you and you took the opportunity to grab the syringe and stab it into Santino's neck.
Your fingers fumbled at the plunger, slowly dispensing half of the clear liquid into his blood stream. Santino grabbed the syringe with his free hand, taking his other to smack you away.
"Stupid bitch! This is men's business," Santino turned the gun on you and John called for his attention.
"Hey! You want to kill me. So kill me," John offered, raising his hands.
Santino narrowed his eyes at John, looking from him to you and back. "You're not...even going to try to beg me?"
John shook his head; you kicked at Santino's ankle, causing him to stumble then crawled after him to grab the syringe again. This time you righted yourself over Santino's body and stabbed the needle into his chest.
You hyperventilated, staring at the man as his eyes widened in fear. You trembled again with the plunger, releasing more liquid into his chest.
Looking over to John, you hoped he would find the words you couldn't. You didn't even understand what this was about, but you were caught in the middle of it.
John met your gaze, feeling his hands going cold at the thought of you getting hurt. The decision was still so muddy, but he was aware of where to start.
"Call it off," John said, reaching to grab Santino's gun and point it at the man. "Call the bounty off."
You turned back to the man, his hair wild as his eyes were twitching in disdain. "Why should I? You gonna kill me too?"
You stared at the plunger in his chest, your thumb on the weapon. You glanced over your shoulder, seeing your coworker dead in her puddle of blood along with the dog that Santino brought in to bait her.
"T-this is pentobarbital," you bluffed, nodding to the syringe in the man's chest. "There was enough in this syringe to kill you twice. But I've on-ly used ha-lf."
Your voice betrayed you in a moment, but you stared at this man under you as if he'd wronged you personally. And he kinda did. He ruined an almost idyllic morning by running egotistical games.
John withheld his surprise, glancing at your profile while you reasoned with this stranger.
"Call it off, and I can undo it," you lied, unsure if you could make such a promise.
"Bullshit," Santino spat at you, looking over to John. However, by the stone-cold look on John's face, he was inclined to believe you.
You straightened up and looked down your nose at this man, floundering to be let up but realizing a lack of options. Your cold thumb tempted at the plunger further.
"Y-you would feel it in your knees first. A dull pain that washes away when you can't feel your legs." You tried to narrate, reluctantly mapping out the process when you so wanted to forget it in pets.
"Your heart will start rushing soon, hoping to pump enough blood to circulate down to your toes, but then your fingers will lose feeling."
Santino gulped and you barely glanced to John as your brows knitted and your eyes watered. "Let's get your phone out before we get to that, because there's no turning back from there."
John watched in stunned silence, holding the gun pointed at Santino for any sudden movements towards you. Santino did as instructed, pulling his phone and typing in his code.
He dialed the number slowly, staring at you strong-handing the syringe. When it rang, he glanced over to John, unfazed.
"Pull the bounty for John WIck." He stated when he got on the phone. "Yes. Santino D'Antonio. 758042."
"Yes sir," the operator on the opposite end stated. The line was quiet for a moment and you held your breath. "Your bounty is rescinded. Is there anything else--"
You smacked the phone away from Santino before he could say anything else then leaned back for John to take the shot. He blinked in the flash moment, then aimed and shot Santino.
The splatter of his blood from his head decorated your face and you were sat in the shocked silence of the past few moments. Santino's dark phone lit up with a message.
Unknown: Bounty: John Wick rescinded. Disregard previous messages of subject.
You let go of the syringe, looking down at your cool trembling hands before you felt a pair of thick arms curl around you. John wasn't sure what else to do in the moment, knowing that nothing he could say would make up for it.
He pulled you up, held you close and swiped the blood from your cheeks. John rested his lips to the top of your head and kept you still when you tried to tremble.
He expected you to cry, ready to coax you down, but you were silent. Grasping at his shirt, you turned your face into him and held tight. Your breath slowly returned to normal, shutting your eyes to rid yourself of the sight of your coworker dead. This strange man dead.
John knew that what came next wouldn't be easy and he was dreading every minute of it.
You sat in the car with John as an unmarked black van pulled up in front of the clinic. Looking over at him, you expected John to get out but he only nodded in the direction of the clinic as the older gentleman stepped out of driver's side.
Without word, the man nodded and patted at the back doors of the unmarked van; the double doors opened and you jumped slightly at the men that followed out. Each of them was dressed in dark clothing, two of them holding mops and buckets while the final two carried unmarked bags into your place of work.
Slowly you turned to look at John, hoping for some sort of explanation. John watched as you did, his face frozen in the sense of unknowing where to start. So he tried going for simple.
"I'm a contractor," he said, turning his body to face yours. "I do freelance work for anyone who pays me and I do most of my work out of the Continental."
You gulped, your eyebrows knitting in concern. "S-so Winston and Charon are..."
"They know about my work and aid me in doing so."
You raised your shocked brows even further, unsure of what contortion your face was in at the moment. "Oh, okay."
Though it was not okay.
You had dinner with assassins, or contractors as John explained it. You fucked a contract killer.
You fucked a contract killer. You gulped, the thought giving you butterflies.
"So you're not like...an assassin that kills for fun?"
John raised a brow in question then shook his head. "Only bad people, and people who've forgotten that they're bad."
Your face flattened a little, ready to ask your next question as you remembered the stranger in the hotel room. "I'm not being targeted, am I?"
John slowly reached for you, taking tender hold of the side of your throat as he leaned in. "No. And this is not a long con. Meeting you was just coincidence. I just...dragged you into my darkness. And I'm sorry."
Your bottom lip trembled, staring into John's dark eyes and seeing them melt with his sincerity.
"I like you," he began, his chest tightening at the confession. He'd slain 200 men in a single night, he'd killed an extra 100 to avenge his dog, but here was when he felt nerves. "I want you to stick around. If you want."
You instinctively reached for him, pressing your lips to his. He lost his breath, putting his other hand to the opposite side of your neck to hold you close.
When you'd had your fill, you parted from him with a trembling sigh.
"Is that a 'yes'?" John asked, rubbing his thumbs before your ears.
You smiled nervously, taking hold of John's wrists to keep him there and nodded. John smirked softly, wondering what was going on in your head in that moment.
"You'll keep me safe, right?" You teased, though you wanted the reassurance.
John nodded.
He let his hands drop and you took hold of them. "I'm guessing you're gonna stay in this line of work a bit longer?"
He tried to keep his face neutral, though it loomed overhead as the next big step. Slowly he nodded and watched your body deflate upon doing so.
"Just a little longer," John said, leaning forward. "I've got a month saved up at the Continental and I'd like to use my points before they expire."
You broke with an amused scoff, turning away from John's face trying to hold back from smiling. You rolled your eyes at him, feeling this as a new beginning for the both of you.
"And it's got your name written right beside it," John added, tilting his head. "I know that room service has been calling your name."
You laughed then, barely sparing a glance to the men as they returned to their van. "It'd give me time to look for a new job."
You didn't want to bring it down, but the reality encroached again. John grabbed your hands and pulled them in to kiss your knuckles.
"We can figure it out together," John said, rubbing his thumbs over your hands.
His darkness paired well with yours, he saw. John only witnessed a glimpse of it, but it would do well if his month stay turned into two. Or five.
Depending on how much trouble he got into. You bit your lip, staring down at your hands intertwined with one another.
"Did you...hurt his sister?" You asked, letting the words spill out before you could stop them.
John was still for a moment, taking in a steady breath. "I made a blood oath before I got out that he'd be able to hold over my head if I ever came back. He used that promise to kill his sister."
Your face scrunched up slightly. "That's so vile."
"Yeah," John said, running his thumb over your knuckles as if measuring each one in size.
You raised your gaze to meet his. "And he crossed you even after that?"
John nodded, letting you get accustomed to whatever this new beginning was starting from. You looked down again, sorting through your biggest thoughts by importance.
"T-there was a person that broke into..." you mindlessly thumbed over your shoulder, remembering the long night you'd had before this one.
"They were trying to gain the bounty." John said, staring after you as if he was losing you to your own personal spiral.
"Charon said he contacted the police." You snapped up to look at John again and he bit back a smile at your concern.
Your eyes were watering again, this time your bottom lip ready to pout from your teeth. He reached up and coaxed a tear away with his thumb.
"No contractor business is allowed on Continental grounds," he tried to offer as solace but knew that the next part would jar you. "It's an excommunication rule."
You stared at him, hoping that he would explain further.
"The consequence is death," John offered as solace. "It's a safe place. That's why I wanted you to stay there."
You dryly scoffed at him, turning into his palm. "You were trying to keep me safe?"
John nodded. "I saw how shaken you were that night when I picked you up. I wanted to look out for you."
You pursed your lips. "Were Charon and Winston looking out for me too?"
John's lip curled slightly. "Charon, yes. Winston as you've said, loves to gossip. The man can't help but know every detail."
You tilted your head against the seat cushion, pinning John's hand against your cheek. "Did you tell him about me?"
It felt wrong to ask in such a situation, but there was no doubt that your meet-cute with a contract killer was fucked up.
John hid a roll of his eyes, his cheeks raising though he lined his lips together. "I told him enough. He called you...my Persephone."
You reached for his hand, shifting it down for his thumb to brace your lips. You blinked, narrowing your eyes at him. "He's funny. I guess this is kind of like the Underworld. Contractors and blood oaths, sacred hotels and clean-up crews."
John raised his brows at you. "Still okay with staying?"
Your stomach, for the first time in the past few days, felt realigned with steel. Though hostage situations were something you never wanted to get used to.
You raised your left hand, pointing your pinkie out. "If you promise me something."
John's lips pouted to the side, never eager to hear about promises in his line of work. He slowly raised his left hand and pointed out his pinkie, waiting to hear what you had to offer.
"Name it."
"You promise to keep me safe if I need it, you can't dump me during a mission and you teach me how to shoot a gun."
John's brows quirked then, his mouth a wormy squiggle to withhold his amusement. He nodded, reaching his large pinkie out to hook around yours. "Deal."
"And..." you added, just as you hooked your finger around his and held him there. "We get dessert in bed and Gunner gets a plate of fries. Also I want to go with you once on a mission."
John's mouth scrunched up under his nose, his cheeks bottling his want to laugh. It felt good to have that still within him.
"I promise."
"Also," you continued, biting your bottom lip. "You help me move out of my apartment."
John chuckled, pointing his finger at you from his interlocked hand. "Now that's too far."
"Said the contract killer," you jested.
John metered his nod back and forth with another soft laugh. "Okay, fine. Also, you don't have to tell me not to dump you."
The two of you stayed locked in your pinky promise as John looked from it to you.
"Promise me something."
"Shoot," you said, scrunching your nose at the poor choice of word.
"You let me know if it gets to be too much. If you want out at any time, I will let you out. I don't want to keep you where you don't want to be."
You hummed, softly smiling at this man. You wanted to stick around for a while, even longer than that. But you didn't want to tell him so.
Even though you were sure this man was the opposite of squeamish. Nothing like boys you'd dated previously.
"Okay."
"And..." John drew out like you had, pursing his lips in soft thought. "I want a full day in bed, with you. Gunner'll have to stay with Charon."
You giggled softly. "Okay," you said, shaking your head in John's direction. "I promise."
The two of you solidified your pinky promise with another soft kiss; John let his hands untangle from you as he felt his ring finger pulse again.
He paused, looking down at his hands and circled his ring on his finger.
You slowly came down from the adrenaline and mushiness spilled and stared at John fiddling with his ring.
"If it's too soon for you..." you tried, but John shut it down with putting his ring hand on the steering wheel.
"I'll be fine," he said with a sigh, aware of when he'd take it off.
It wouldn't be for a while, and he should've asked if it was alright with you. You didn't even notice it, feeling that it was just a part of him.
"So was it pentobarbital in that bottle?" He asked curiously, starting the car and gearing it into drive.
You reached for your seatbelt, glancing out of your window at the vet clinic then buckled yourself in.
"I don't think it was," you said geniunely, unsure if it'd make a difference.
John turned his car into the underground parking garage and circled the top level to find a space. The two of you were going over John's excursion in Rome, why he was really there and what he had to go through to get home.
"That's so fucked up," you offered, unable to create any other cohesive thought.
John shrugged, which gave you the note that this was a normal thing that happened sometimes.
You leaned in, intrigued to learn more about this other half of John. There was John Wick, the mild-mannered dog dad that fucked so hard that you shivering at the thought.
Then there was John Wick, the contract killer who took down a mafia of men in the time it took for you to have dinner with Winston.
"What do they call you?" You asked after John geared his car into park then shut it off.
John raised his brows, glancing over at you. "Don't laugh."
You straightened up in your seat, mimicking a zip of your lips closed before nodding at him to continue. John smirked and undid his seatbelt.
"Baba Yaga," he offered, awaiting your eventual snicker.
But you were perplexed, staring at him. "What is that?"
He blinked once, turning to you fully. "The Boogeyman."
You stared at him, knowing that there was no doubt in your mind that while you feared this man just a little bit, you were attracted to him more.
You looked around the desolate parking lot then back at John. "Anything else?"
"The Wolf, The Devil..." John added, unsure if those names were even true but wanting to amuse you.
You leaned over to John and exhaled a trembling breath. "Is it wrong of me..."
You couldn't finish that sentence aloud, knowing that it was a bit twisted to want him more. The man had just shot another man in front of you...and yet...
You caught John's mouth in a fervent kiss, edging your knee over the center console to sit in his lap. John was surprised, making such a noise as his hands held your hips.
You blindly reached between his seat and the door, finding the handle to recline the two of you back.
John groaned at the sudden movement, but didn't break from you. He pressed his hand into the small of your back and held you tighter against him, allowing you to roll your body against him.
"I-I'm sorry," You offered, parting from him with smaller pecks to follow. "I don't know what came over me."
John looked at you from behind his half-mast eyelids, taking in your trembling chest and legs spread over him. The image of you that morning flashed by again, trying to hide the other twisted side of it.
"Let's go upstairs," he added, his voice hitting a new low.
You felt your body cinch at his utterance, reminding yourself of the euphoric kisses and bites that would come from it.
You nodded, reaching for the driver's side door and climbing out. John attempted to regain himself, righting his seat before grabbing his keys and climbing out.
You didn't expect this place to become a sanctuary to you. The dark foreboding walls, something echoing to the Asphodel, was not inviting like you'd seen most places.
The marble floors, the sharp edges, the posh guests, all of them were out of your wheelhouse of comfort. But you were relieved to enter the lobby of the Continental.
It felt like it held a new charm, one that you prayed never left. You were awash with a sense of security, taking John's hand and leading him to the elevator.
You pinned him against the wall, nudging your nose with his before tempting him with a kiss. He leered after you, his eyes fluttering close with the thought of tasting your lips again.
You nipped at his nose instead, bringing your fingers up to scratch through his beard.
When the two of you made it back to your floor, you grabbed John's hand and started towards your door. At one point, John's arm circled around your waist and he lifted you into him, carrying you to the room.
The two of you stopped at the door, with you fumbling to take the key from John and open the door. You felt his breath over your shoulder, his hands already making their way down the front of your pants.
You shook your head alert, finally making the key open the door and clambering in with John hot on your tail.
You barely made it to get your shoes off before John expertly undid your pants and tugged them down. You bowed onto the bed, readily hiding your shame at how wet you were.
John pulled your pants down to your ankles, then off before turning you onto your back. He took your knee, pulling your legs open and stashing a hard gulp at the sight.
He had no words to say, knowing that the truth would be squeezed out of him soon enough. He reached for his own belt, undoing his pants and freeing his stiffened cock.
You looked down at the comparison, his cock flush against your stomach. You whimpered as he drew himself back, pushing his cock head against your clit before letting it slip over your stomach again.
You threw your head back in frustration, knowing that you wouldn't last long being teased. John watched like an instinctual predator, waiting for his best strike.
His bare hand went to rest at your chest, feeling your racing heart beat hard. John pulled back again, rutted his cock against your clit then let it slide, gathering your wet and streaking your belly.
You whined again, drawing your knees up from the edge of the bed. "John, please."
He would savor every time your lips formed his name; he tilted his head back, soaking it in to puff up his chest when he was normally without flaunting an ego.
John dropped his head again, glaring darkly at you from under his brows. He rutted a third time, earning your writhing. Your head turned back and forth on the comforter, your fingers reaching out for him but never grasping onto him.
"C-c'mon," you hiccuped, finding yourself a disheveled mess. You were flustered and growing on embarrassed, as if John was showing off how turned on you were by him.
By what he did.
By what he did for you.
You gulped, tightening your stomach as you watched him rut a final time; this time he went back and pressed his cock at your entrance, making you drop your head in relief when he slid into you.
John's hand at your chest dropped down to your stomach, leveling your core to feel every inch of him. You practically vibrated upon the new sensation, finding yourself drawn closer to a peak you weren't even acknowledging.
John took his hands away from you to run them under your shirt; he tenderly shrugged your top from over your chin, blinding you the cotton as his cock thrusted into you harshly.
You lost your breath, gasping when he shrugged your shirt over your head and up your arms before pausing there. He flattened himself against you, catching your bottom lip between his teeth with a tender suck.
His fingers threaded through yours, tangling both of you in the cuffs of your shirt until he finally pulled it off of you. John did his with pulling away from you and reaching between his shoulders to rip his shirt over his head.
The cream top yanked up to reveal the yellowing and purple bruises along John's sides, ones you knew now to be wounds for his effort. He went above and beyond in his work, it showed deeply.
John tossed his shirt away, returning over you to feel your chest rise and fall against his. He wanted to undo you further, have you bare to him in the physical and vulnerable sense, but he didn't want to throw off his pace.
You keened when he hit a particularly soft spot within you and he recognized it as your second weakness. John licked his fingers and dove them between the two of you, finding your clit with expert precision and circling it.
You grabbed onto his shoulders, wanting to hook into him if he was going to keep on. Your pants heightened against his mouth, drawing more moans from you as his other hand peeled your leg back to your side.
You broke another inch, your eyes crossing as you glanced to the ceiling. John took it in stride, using his lips to level his chin and meet your eyes. "Did I lose you there?"
Your face scrunched in pleasure, just as your chest tightened with the threat of explosion. "You are the Devil."
He chuckled mirthlessly against your lips, taking them in another kiss as he continued his pace. The two of you found yourselves drawing further up in pleasure, finding the heat culminated between you two enough of a catalyst for you both to cum.
You were first, your mouth falling open in the moans of John's name. Your walls beckoned him further, stunting his thrusts from going too deep before he finally succumbed to your heat.
He rested his elbow next to your head, groaning and hissing in pleasure. The two of you shared your caught breaths, staring at one another in the dim light of the room.
You prodded your tongue to your bottom lip, your eyes raking up and down John's body. He did the same, though he paused at your neck and dove in to kiss you there.
You shied away, raising your shoulder to giggle at his warm breath wafting down your neck. He liked that sound, he wanted to hear more of that.
hey! sorry to bother u but I read ur johnny silverhand fic and lost my mind I am demanding politely requesting more if u would be so kind :) specifically I was wondering if u could write one where he gets pegged but up 2 u! thanks again for ur delicious writing I'm so normal :3 -💜
honestly, Johnny is such a brat that that shit seems right up his alley. im barking and growling and readying his ass. sorry, all that to say I'll add it to the list 🤭
Tags: NSFW, MDNI, Johnny Silverhand has a body, Johnny Silverhand and V have a happy ending, rockstar/groupie roleplay, pet names [princess/baby], foreplay, dry humping, d*ldo sucking, cl*t suction, double c*ck handjob, love bites, an*l fingering, missionary pegging, n*pple biting, oral sex [V receiving]
Summary: You and Johnny try something new and you turn out to like it.
wc: 2.7k
a/n: i'm biting my knuckles, silently screaming, keanu reeves, johnny silverhand i'm your biggest fan
You came out of the shower, drying your hair with your singular towel as Johnny lounged in the bed in his leather pants.
He raised a brow at you, taking in the clean damp of your body. "Why don't you come sit on my lap, princess?"
You grinned at him, tossing the towel into the basket by the door. Johnny rested on his back, folding his arms behind his head. "Come on, lil' groupie. I promise to treat you right."
Scoffing at him, you kneeled onto the bed then hitched your leg over Johnny's waist. You sat carefully, rubbing against the hard crease of his leather pants.
"Val, you're so fucking hot," he slipped out, a hand roaming from your thigh, admiring the curve of your body before grabbing onto your breast.
You arched your back at his touch, tossing your damp hair over your shoulder before touching Johnny's chest; his tattoo decorated his side, his scars on the other.
"Mr. Silverhand, I'm such a big fan," you breathed out, raking your nails up Johnny's chest.
"I bet you are, sweetheart." Johnny's hand trailed down your naked chest then used his thumb to flash your clit at him. "You're wet for me, aren't you?"
You haltingly nodded, earning Johnny's fingers wedging under your pussy. You panted, rocking your hips up to earn Johnny's fingers sliding into you.
"Very wet. I love easy groupies," he teased, tilting his chin up with a smirk. "They're needy to please me."
You raised your brows at him, meeting his smirk with your own. "I'll do anything you want."
Johnny raised his brows as if to test your theory. From behind his head, his other hand produced a bundle of straps dangling from a clear dildo.
"Anything," he repeated, offering over the bundle of straps to you. "Let's see it on, baby."
You quirked at him, taking the strap from him and untangling the straps. It took a few seconds to slide over your thighs, strapping it snugly around your bare ass.
As soon as you secured the final strap around your waist, you giggled. Staring down your body to see the mid-size dildo below and between your breasts.
Johnny released a heavy exhale, reaching around to spank your ass. "You look good like that, princess. You know how to use that thing?"
You shook your head. "No, but I'm willing to learn."
"Atta girl," Johnny praised, leaning up to take your breast in his mouth. "You're gonna do great."
You groaned, running your hand through Johnny's greasy hair. Nosing at his hairline, you watched as Johnny tenderly mawed at your nipple, his other hand caressing your other breast equally.
He freed his mouth from you, kissing at your breast bone then down, leaving little licks in his wake before wiggling himself into a precarious position just under your silicone cock.
Johnny carefully dragged his tongue in a long stripe down the length of the toy, his spit decorating the tip with little bubbles and a string that dangled his bottom lip.
You bit your lip, staring down at your man so confidently opening his mouth to welcome the silicone tip. You blushed, your hand in his hair, guiding him onto the toy with a satisfied groan.
"You're easy too, I see," you teased, your hand in his hair sliding to caress his hallowed cheek. "You like that cock, don't you baby?"
Johnny agreed with a hum, meeting your eyes as he sank a bit further. His hands gripped at your hips, sliding his mouth forward and back and giving you a show. It was definitely hot, you couldn't lie, watching this man take down a cock without making a big deal.
When he pulled off of you with a satisfied smack, Johnny tilted his head back at you. "You got that thing on, right?"
You quirked a brow at him, your fingers tapping the straps to make sure it was secure. "I think so?"
Johnny smirked, taking a hand to wedge between your mound and the strap base. "Here, baby, not all the way on."
He carefully slinked a thin silicone tube down to meet your clit before suctioning it. You groaned in response, feeling the short nub of silicone cupped around your clit. Johnny smiled, smacking your ass with purse of his lips.
"Let's try that again," he taunted, returning to your silicone cock with a long lick.
This time, you felt it through your body. You gasped at the caress of Johnny's nose to your tip before taking the toy into his mouth again.
Your eyes widened, groaning and tilting your hips to chase the warmth of Johnny's mouth. He attempted at a smile, holding your hips steady as he sank his mouth on your silicone length.
"Johnny," you moaned, your hand returning into his hair. "Fuck, that's good."
He pulled off of you with a chuckle, leaning back to undo his pants. You shifted off of him, watching as Johnny gracefully peeled his pants off his legs, tugging them off of his ankles before shifting onto his side to grab a bottle of lube.
Johnny spread his legs before you, his cock at-attention, as he popped the lid of the lube and held two fingers before the pucker of his ass.
"Stroke it, baby. Give me a show," Johnny purred as he dripped lube onto his fingers and slowly pushed them into his ass.
Your eyes widened softly, interest taking over at the new sounds emanated from Johnny's throat. Without hesitation, you sidled closer between his spread legs, taking grip of your silicone cock and Johnny's in your outspread hand.
You both groaned, your lengths matching up at the head as you ran your fingers down Johnny's. He moaned, his cock twitching as he worked his fingers in and out of himself.
"Good boy," you teased back, narrowing your eyes at him as your lips pursed after speaking.
Johnny met your eyes, his eyebrow piquing in minute pleasure, his chest going hot at your words and fingers gracing his strained cock.
"Readying yourself for me?" you asked, running your free hand down from your neck to flirty-touch your own body to tempt Johnny further.
Johnny nodded, rushing his fingers in and out of his softening pucker. You licked your lips, running your hand back up Johnny's cock and down again while pressing yours against his.
He whined, raising his hips to chase after your fingers as his fingers plunged deeper into his hole. "Fuck, V."
You moaned, leaning over Johnny to tease your nose against his.
"You're such a good boy," you repeated, stroking Johnny's length again as his lip trembled before he bit it.
He hissed as he pulled his fingers from his hole, using them to deliver more lube to the pucker of his ass. Johnny attempted to steel himself, gritting his jaw to meet your sultry eyes.
"P-put it in, princess," he muttered, looking down both of your bodies as you rutted your silicone cock against his.
You purred, lowering your body against his; you hand snaked up his chest, touched at the burnt mend of his arm then to the nape of his hair. Clutching at his hair, you tilted his head back and ran your lips down his throat, still rocking your cock against his.
Johnny melted, a pleased gurgle leaving his throat as his metallic hand gripped your hip. You hummed, suckling at his skin in lines, leaving reddened splotches.
"Just a minute," you whispered, reversing up his throat to meet his parted lips.
You dove your tongue into his mouth, drawing another moan from Johnny as you pulled your hips back and lined up to his lubed pucker.
You nudged your tip between his cheeks, taking up a bit more lube before taking the bottle set against his hip. Still keeping his mouth occupied, you lathered your silicone cock and stroked at it once.
You hiccuped a moan into Johnny's mouth, pausing to glance down as you guided into him. Just as your tip found its slight ease in Johnny's pucker, you kissed him again.
Johnny parted from you to throw his head back into the pillow, both of you sharing a shuddering laugh that devolved into a moan. Your clit pulsed in tandem with Johnny's tight ass trying to adjust.
You braced a hand to his stomach, resting your lips to his chin. Johnny managed to bob his head down to meet your mouth again. Your hand slipped to his hip, holding him steady as you panted against his mouth once.
"Relax, Johnny," you cooed, pushing an inch into Johnny's ass.
He squirmed, grunting with grit teeth before you. You pursed your lips in an 'o', guiding Johnny to breathe. His nose scrunched but he slowly followed your lead, pushing a hard breath down your neck.
"That's it," you praised, pushing another inch in and watching Johnny's face break down, even as his lips remained in a 'o'. His breath left him with a steady blow at your neck. "That's my good boy."
Johnny's eyes rolled, resting his head into the pillow again. He twitched slightly, his body stretching out beneath you. You raked your eyes down his body, his cock shifting against his belly leaking precum.
"You are so fucking hot," you hissed, taking soft grip of his jaw to make you look at him.
Biting his lip, Johnny's eyes struggled to stay open as he glanced down your naked body to your straps then back up. "So are you."
He ran his hands up and down your sides before settling them at your hips. You felt grossly inflated with power, seductive, as you turned your boyfriend into a whimpering mess.
Just as he did you so many times. You grinned at him, kissing down his throat again then to his collarbone. Sucking at his skin again, you were enlivened by every moan that left Johnny's melodic throat.
Your grin turned to a smirk, bending further to circle your lips around his nipple. Glancing up at Johnny, he crooked his neck to meet your eyes. Your tongue flattened to his nipple, then lowered your mouth to it and suckled.
Your teeth tempted at his nipple, then tenderly bit around it.
"V," Johnny tried, his voice barely holding ground.
You parted from Johnny's nipple with a satisfied smack. "I aim to please you, baby."
You innocently rested your cheek to his chest, allowing Johnny to rest his hand at the back of your neck. As you sat up again, still holding onto his hips and sank the rest of your length in Johnny's ass.
He shuddered again, dropping his hand from the back of your neck. You slowly pulled out of him, angling your hips to pump into him at a mild rhythm.
Johnny was frozen, moreso broken, as you worked your cock into his ass and watched his brain slowly scramble. His cock twitched against his stomach, leaking more precum against his navel.
His hand clutched into the bedsheets, his eyes lulling with whimpers escaping his beautifully damp lips.
"Pretty boy," you purred, raking your dull nails up and down his torso. "A good, pretty boy on this cock."
Johnny's head writhed on the pillow, wanting to retort though he was devolved to moans and whines of pleasure. You licked your lips, naturally turned on by his beautiful and pitiful noises.
"What a little pillow prince," you cooed, running your hand up to drag your thumb along his bottom lip. "You turn me on, baby."
Johnny managed to lift his head an inch, meeting your eyes from his lounged state. "Y-yeah?"
"Fuck yes," you drew out, reversing your hand back to his chest.
You teased your fingers over his reddened cockhead, his cock straining with veins to hold on. Swirling your fingers in the soft puddle of his cum, you drew them up to your lips and licked the tang from your fingertips.
"Ho-ly," Johnny trembled, throwing his head back again as he white-knuckled the sheets.
You quirked a brow at him, reaching to stroke his length. Johnny's knees buckled from their bend, writhing up and down with finding no escape of the pleasure.
Your hand on his hip steadied him, shushing him to relax again. Johnny's chest reddened as he hiccuped, still trying to hold on.
His neck, decorated with your love bites; his nipple sporting a dull red bite around it. His light skin reacted to your dull nails, showing long thin red lines along his chest. Johnny was a messy collage of your love.
He finally swatted your hand away from his cock, his back arching as your thrusts became longer. You lifted Johnny's hips off of the bed, shortening your thrusts to angle them at his prostate.
Johnny squirmed further, whining and whimpering until he hyperventilated. You paused, easing his hips back down to the bed. Looking at him, you saw his eyes watering.
"Aww, baby," you coaxed, leaning over to kiss Johnny's soft eyelids. "Too much?"
Johnny shook his head, his chest stuck in big breaths before you reached a hand out to the middle of his chest. "Deep breath, you're almost there, baby."
Johnny growled mutedly, tilting his chin up to beg for your kiss. You gave in, your hand slinking down to stroke his cock again in tandem of your soft thrusts.
He whined against your lips, his muted cries of pleasure lost in the chasm of your mouth. Johnny's hand mirrored his other at your hips again, attempting to still you as he broke away with a loud shudder.
His groans echoed through the cave of your room, making you lick your lips at the beautiful sounds. You felt Johnny's cum decorate his stomach, your stomach as well to the close proximity.
You slowed your hips to rest your silicone cock in his ass, allowing Johnny to run his hands up to your tits.
He groped them heartily, ducking his head to decorate both of them with wet kisses. You straightened your back, rocking your hips further into Johnny's ass and earning jostled groan.
When you had your fill of Johnny's mouth praises, you slowly pulled your silicone cock out of his ass. You watched with sick intrigue at how your gummy dick was covered in now bubbly lube. Johnny's used hole gasped, making you feel a bit keen to using him again.
Johnny was slow to move onto his knees before you, grabbing your face to kiss you harder. You were paused in the middle of the bed with Johnny's hands reaching down to undo your straps.
His fingers fumbled blindly to unbind you from your strap, earning a pleased his when the suction came off of your clit. The harness slid down your knees to rest on the bed between you.
"That's my good fucking groupie," Johnny taunted, his fingers finding your pussy and sinking two of his metal fingers into you. He threw his head back at the feeling of you; you gripped onto his shoulders, leaning against him as he pumped his fingers into you quickly.
"And still so fucking wet, goddamn." Johnny's eyes rolled at the feeling of you, turning into your neck to sloppily kiss your skin.
You stayed suspended in his praises, your chin resting against his collar. "Did I do good?"
"Oh baby," Johnny began, his knees wobbling as he leaned you back to the foot of the bed. "You did phenomenal. Let me return the favor."
You hummed, greeting the bed as Johnny unstrapped the harness from around your legs and tossing it away. Sitting up on your elbows, you watched Johnny stretch his body out after you, spreading your legs and curling his arms around your thighs.
You giggled at the ticklish feeling of Johnny's beard on the sensitive skin of your thighs. Raising your hips, you wiggled in his hold before he settled you down with a tender pull.
"Eyes on me, princess," Johnny muttered, keeping your gaze as he descended on your pussy. "Eyes on me."
When Johnny delved his tongue into you, you bit back an eager trill. His fingers dug into your thighs, keeping your legs apart as you rested your hand to the back of Johnny's head.
"Good boy," you taunted back, your chest rising in heavy breaths. "Good, pretty boy."
tags: NSFW, MDNI, mutant fem reader [a doppleganger mutancy], professor xavier/ ororo/ scott/ kurt/ rogue involved, strangers to lovers, logan in rut, feral alpha logan attempts to tame himself, animal/bait mentality, scents/smells, flirty sparring, dry humping, voyeurism, panty stealing, shower masturbation, mind reading [Xavier you dirty dog], oral sex [reader receiving], fingering, size difference, too big for you, slight praise kink, clothed sex, cowgirl, multiple orgasms, mating press missionary, knotting, discussion of knotting/ rut
wc: 8.8k
Logan was awake for hours before the house was. He heard the mansion settle around him in soft creaks, the sun slowly peeking through the curtains at the break of dawn.
He committed himself to stay in bed until he was forced out, feeling that today would be disastrous. Logan felt it deep in his core, his nose flaring with a growl rumbling through his mouth.
He was sliding into the pit of rut.
He regretted opening his eyes. Logan was short on normal days, but for the week of rut, he was an irate short-fuse.
He was aware of it, knew how the others reacted to him. Logan groaned, turning onto his side with a groan to himself.
Looking at his door, he noticed it was unlocked. Even though his bed drew him in, Logan knew he'd be better off just locking himself inside for the day.
Maybe he'd slip a note to someone passing by for them to bring him lunch. Logan pulled himself upright, swinging his legs over the edge, ready to commit himself to his room.
But his nose twitched at a intriguing scent moving outside of his door. He heard the soft creak of the floorboards, the tender cracks of feet as they shuffled.
He mapped the layout of the house, trying to recognize who it was outside his door. Logan was at the door as soon as he knew it was you.
He pried his door open a crack, peeking his nose out to sniff after you. Your scent to him was spiced, sweet tangerine with a bite of ginger.
It ate into his belly, only fueling the slippery descent into his rut.
You were actually trying to stay quiet on this early morning. You hadn't been able to stay asleep for long, replaying Professor Xavier's lecture overnight.
He'd called you into his office to talk about your powers. He mentioned that you were holding back too much, that doing so would only stunt your growth further.
It was still in your head as you shuffled past Logan's room, too enveloped in how you should've responded. If you were stuck on it too long, you'd split into two and become the literal angel and devil.
It was more of a parlor trick than a power. What use was it in tactical prowess and missions?
Logan only watched you shuffle by, his mouth parting in a soft pant. He caught himself, clamping his hand over his mouth as his eyes dragged down your body.
Logan chastised himself for the thought of your clothes being easily accessible. Your oversized heather gray X shirt showed a peek of shoulder. Your shorts, also branded with the X academy logo, were tempting at too short.
The white hem of them cut right at the cusp of your ass, leaving your legs to look so long. The legwarmer-slipper combo didn't really help either, Logan imagined that they'd be easier to grip over your head.
He bristled at the encroaching dark thoughts, retreating back into his room. You paused halfway down the hall, looking behind you as you heard the door creak.
Logan's door slowly shut as you stared at it, tilting your head before making your way to the kitchen. You hadn't had the pleasure to meet Logan in entirety. It was only rumors and stories you heard about him, seeing flashes of him in the hallway.
A part of you, always the diabillo, always felt him near. She bristled inside you, like you were a glass jar she'd turn in his direction and the heat would accumulate there. You ignored her, continuing your shuffling.
Logan barricaded against his door, clutching his chest to regain his conscience. His stomach growled, unsated, though not in the way of hunger.
He smacked his nose, hoping to rid your scent from his senses. Logan tried his best to avoid you, but his carnal curiosity got the better of him.
He knew that to sate that part of him, he'd have to leave the room. He knew he would, just to squash the feral slice of his mind needing to hunt you down.
Logan managed to make his own internal agreement with himself. He'd join at breakfast only, one bowl of cereal, across the table from you and hold minimal conversation or eye contact. The bare minimum was all he'd be able to manage before returning his room. Otherwise he wasn't sure how he'd behave.
Logan was the last in the kitchen, grabbing a bowl carefully and walking to the dining room. His eyes scanned cautiously around the table, noticing that the table was packed around. Except for the single seat next to you.
Of course, he thought, readying himself to retreat to his room in defeat.
"Logan, how nice of you to join us," Storm said with a nod of acknowledgement. "We saved you a seat."
You glanced up from your bowl of cereal to see Logan in the kitchen doorway, wearing a grey X branded jacket. His hair was noticeably bed-styled, his demeanor nothing of friendly.
Logan bit down a snarl, his hackles raising at the sudden audience turned to him. He nodded to Xavier and Kurt, then circled the table to sit by you.
He slid into the table, his hands grabbing under the seat to straighten up. Logan's knuckles brushed against your thigh, feeling your soft skin and sparing a peek to your shorts again.
He shut his eyes a moment to regain himself, your shorts ridden up while seated. Logan reached blindly for the box of cereal, guiding it to the lip of his bowl and pouring it in.
He'd failed at part of his agreement already, wanting to cut his losses and stow away in his room. The touch of your skin would do wonders to his imagination now: squeezing your thighs so tightly that he bruises your skin while forcing your knees to your chest.
His eyes shot open, setting the cereal box upright before reaching for the milk. You peeked from the corner of your eye at the stranger next to you, the infamous Logan you'd heard about.
His knuckles grazing you was the first touch you'd had in a while, it caught your breath.
"Xavier, do we have plans for the new recruits?" Storm, Ororo, asked to the head of the table.
Undoubtedly, she was talking about you. Her elbow nudged at yours, smiling at you when she did so.
"Have you seen the training room yet? It's so big," she whispered over to you.
"I was thinking," Xavier began, looking over to Logan who was hurriedly shoveling cereal into his mouth. "Maybe Logan could spar with our new recruit. Get to know each other."
Logan paused, spoon in his mouth as he grunted in Xavier's direction. Hunched over his bowl like the animal within him, Logan looked to the head of the table at Xavier.
The man remained unfazed, unamused, by Logan's actions at the dining table. Logan narrowed his eyes at the professor, wondering why he was volunteered for such a thing especially during his worst time.
Xavier raised his brows at Logan, his eyes barely shifting to you talking to Ororo. Logan cocked his jaw, wanting to evade any proximity to you if he could help it.
"Want do you think, my dear?" Xavier pitched to you, directing your attention back to Logan, then the professor.
"I-I don't think that'd be too bad," you spoke up, glancing to Logan next to you and at Xavier again. "If Logan doesn't mind."
Logan shut his eyes in the direction of Xavier, taking a deep breath in as he settled down from you saying his name. He'd failed two parts of his agreement now.
He struggled to not peel back his top lip, wanting to project distaste though his beast was awaiting the opportunity. He'd hunt you after all, descend on you like a depraved wolf and ingest you with a ferocity that would leave you begging.
Logan's eye twitched, shutting his eyes to reel back to reality. He straightened forward in his seat, dropping his hand to his side.
But his knuckles brushed back down your thigh, making all the way to your shorts. You flinched softly, retreating your leg from his touch though your heart skipped.
"Fine, but only for ten minutes." He grit out, fighting against the ebbing flare in his throat.
He shouldn't have agreed at all, even as he flashed a glare back at Xavier. The professor was practically setting you up as bait and Logan wasn't above taking it.
You smiled over at Logan, hoping that your sentiment would reflect on him. He seemed a foreboding presence, hunched forward shoulders as the hair on his neck bristled like an agitated animal.
His eyes flicked over to you for a second, shocking your smile away, before returning to hoard his cereal into his mouth.
Logan stood before the open doors of the sunroom. The floor was padded with mats, the wooden walls patched up in a similar fashion.
He didn't bother to break to his room, knowing that changing would only delay the inevitable. He'd still need a shower afterwards anyway.
Peering into the room, he watched you card your fingers together then bend forward to touch the floor. You'd opted out of your short shorts, much to Logan's relief and dismay, and into the uniform lyrca spandex given.
They were better and worse on him at the same time; Logan's heart was settled at the lack of skin, but the tightness of them left less to the imagination than before.
He grit his teeth, ready to peel his eyes from you in a moment's notice, but he stared at the apple of your ass guided to the sky. Logan's nose twitched, ready to take in the scent of your clothed pussy presented like this to him.
He swatted at his nose again, shut his eyes and tried to make another agreement to himself. He would not linger. Logan had to stay quick on his feet for the ten minutes because if he paused for a moment too long around you, he'd descend into his hunger.
You held your palms to the mat, doing your best to lengthen your back before sighing at the relief of doing so. Logan's cock twitched at the sound that escaped you, having to turn around in the doorway to regain himself.
Standing upright, you turned at the waist to loosen up then caught sight of the foreboding Logan in the doorway.
"Hey, you ready?" You asked in his direction, turning around fully to face him.
Logan stiffened, readily counting down the minutes left of his social contract. As soon as he returned to his room, he'd board it shut for the week and let his mind run rampant. Anything to soothe the heated knots in his core and the damper on his shoulders.
"Yeah," Logan barked, turning around again and entering the room.
You rolled your shoulders as Logan walked onto the mat, shrugging off his jacket to reveal his built torso.
You paused, taking in Logan's chest adorned with the manly growth of hair. He looked more animal the more you took him in, his hair no longer looking undone but sprouted in short peaks resembling wolf-like ears.
Logan's nose twitched, catching onto your scent anew before him. But this time, a touch dampened.
He raised his brows at you, raising his hands ready to react to your first move. "Let's not waste time."
You gulped, mirroring his hands out. When Xavier suggested sparring, you thought it was more to show off your power of splitting.
Instead you were before this foreboding man, the beast more so, his stature drawing an icy chill from you.
Logan stared at you, awaiting your next move. He expected you to playfully tap his wrist to dissuade the tension, but you were frozen in the spot.
Your feet spread to a fighter's stance, only following Logan's lead in the stringent dance.
Logan bit back a smirk, his neck stretching as the feral gnaw within him egged him to lurch. He took a quick step into your space, causing your heart to jerk in response.
His ears perked at the sound, catching onto the strained vein in your neck from surprise. Logan acted again, earning a short gasp from you.
You tried to stabilize yourself, feeling the double at your back rear up with ferocity. It was an immediate split, the negative feelings from you condensing into a separate entity.
Logan watched as you slowly divided from yourself, an almost exact clone of you stood behind you. All different from them was the reddened tint in their eyes.
"Cute trick," he huffed in the direction of double. "What can it do?"
You squared your shoulders, your actions concentrated to one and not the other. When you regained yourself, you rushed at Logan to occupy your hands.
Each slap at his hands, he caught back with his own reaction. Your forearms met together, causing you to hide a wince at his heavy frame.
Logan spared an amused huff at your efforts, finally able to focus on anything but his throbbing cock. He squeezed his fist, producing his adamantium claws with a soft warble from their appearance l.
"Does she feel pain?" He asked, raising a brow at you.
Logan broke from staring in your eyes, losing his inner will to not advance. He glanced to where your double was previously, then was surprised when you shoved him off.
"Do you?" You asked, watching as your double took a high step off of the back wall to throw a punch at Logan's jaw.
You winced, both at the impact that turned Logan's face with his teeth bared and your knuckles throbbing in react to his hard jaw.
Logan took a second to regain himself, the punch only disorienting him momentarily. You and your double took the chance: they clamped onto his back as you grabbed onto his extended arm and climbed onto it.
In an instant, you hyper-extended your body on his arm, wrapping your legs around the back of his neck to squeeze him into quick submission.
Your double harassed his sides with their short nails, playing dirty as only they could. Logan grunted, attempting to stand tall while the two of you held on tight.
His mind instantly rushed with the thought of your trick doing wonders to him, riding his face and his cock to tide him over. Logan glared heavily at the ceiling, willing himself to not get hard in your presence.
He was trying to regain his track of time, even as your thighs squeezed tighter at his arm to his neck. Logan took a knee to the mat, reaching with his free arm to pry your double off of his back.
You grabbed onto his hand, pulling it up to your shoulder but holding his fingers away from your neck. Logan was reaching his limit of playfully sparring and edging towards possessively ending things.
He took his other knee, leaning over your body to not give way to using his claws to win. You huffed, your hands gripping his wrist as your double finally fended off with you taking the lead.
The strength came back to you when they returned to you, adding a rush of adrenaline to your heart while staring at this man squeezed between your legs.
Logan's nose flicked, taking in more of your scent, the newer dampened kind. It was sweet, cloying to the back of his throat and making him swallow.
His eyes fluttered at the sensation, knowing that you were sating a minuscule flame by scent alone. He reached to tap out, touching your thigh when he did so.
You blinked at the feeling of his touch, a rush going through you with a catch of your breath. Releasing him, you dropped your arms to the mat and looked down at Logan.
He paused, realizing that his obligation to sparring with you was officially over. And yet, he made no moves to scurry away.
Your legs, with him squaring before you, were draped at his shoulders. The sight did a number on your stomach, making your head go light at the fantastical thought of him descending on you.
Logan mapped your face, noting the flush on your cheeks as his mouth went dry. His internal hunger was piqued further by the looks of you.
You were spent, knowing that one ten minute session wouldn't make you a fighter, but Logan was entertained by his bait making a play.
He rested his fists outside of your hips, leaning forward to brush his stiff bulge against the seat of your spandex.
You raised your chin to stifle a low moan, meeting Logan's dark pupils taking over. You pitched again as Logan pressed a bit further, carefully rutting his sheathed cock against your clothed pussy.
"Logan," you stammered, your knees folding further to spur the feral man on.
He huffed, beast descending, and rutted harder against you. Your scent renewed again, which delighted Logan's nose as he flattened his hips to the backs of your thighs.
"Say...say my name again," Logan grit, wanting your pitiful voice to tease at his rut.
You arched your hips, meeting his bulge to your clothed clit. Your lips parted with a pant of Logan's name again and he snarled, barely taming himself to recede.
"How's the training going?" Ororo's voice carried before entering the doorway, allowing Logan the moment to back off.
He fought with himself, clamping his hand over his mouth and nose before standing on his feet. You dropped your legs as you turned your head, watching Logan breeze past Ororo showing up in the doorway then up the stairs.
You breathed out, staring after Logan before meeting Ororo's questioning gaze. "You okay? Was he too rough?"
You shut your eyes, turning your head to the ceiling in disbelief.
Logan shut himself in his room, biting into the crevice of his hand and mutedly groaning out his frustration. He had gone too far, past himself and fed into the roaring wildfire within him.
His cock rutted against the door, seething at the memory of your soft thighs against his hips, the tempting heat of your pussy.
If he'd been given a second more, he'd have torn your pants off. Logan wasn't sure whether it would be fully him if given the chance.
Ororo held her hand out to pull you upright, allowing you to straighten out your clothes before giving you a once over.
"What'd you do to him?" She asked with a sly smile. "And can you teach me for when he's a pain?"
You laughed nervously, the sweat on your forehead chilling a degree as you reached for the back of your neck. "I dunno."
Ororo shared your laugh, more amused than you were. "Why don't you get changed, we're hanging out in the yard. You gotta see Kurt and Scott play tennis. Scott is such a cheater."
You grinned with Ororo resting her arm on your shoulders. "Okay, sure. Let me shower first."
Logan broke away from the door, rushing to his bed. He grabbed at one of his pillows, fluffed it up in the center of his bed then tore into it with his claws.
In a quiet frenzy of feathers, he panted as he stared at the makeshift remedy. It was nothing substantial, and uninviting with the burrow riddled with feather quills. Logan snarled, shrugging at the waistband of his sweats to chase the quick relief.
His animal balked, making him growl at himself. He smacked the thought, and pillow, away. Logan held his face in his hands, sheathing his claws at an attempt to regain his control.
After a beat of silence, Logan grabbed a change of clothes and opened his door to scope out the floor. Seeing he was alone, he dashed down the hallway to the communal showers, shutting the door.
He paused at the sound of the stream going, wondering who he'd have to encounter for a semblance of peace. Logan walked carefully around the block wall to see the shower room filling with steam.
He set his clothes on the counter, stopping to look at a similar pile of clothes on the corner. Leaning over to look, he noticed a pair of cotton underwear folded between a shirt and tennis skirt.
Logan raised a brow, glancing over to the stall being used for the shower and noticed a burn mark starting from your tail bone, lining up next to your spine before ending in a spade like flare just beneath your shoulder blade.
His breath caught, his nostrils flaring at the sloshes of water that ran down your skin. Your hair tangled up with shampoo, Logan's eyes raked along your shoulders, then down your legs before landing at your ass.
He leaned against the counter for a moment, soaking up the sight of you for future use. He bit at his inside lip, drawing blood as his cock strained with immeasurable pain. Glancing back at your clothes, Logan swiped your underwear from the stack and stuffed them into his sweatpants pocket.
Inside, he chastised himself for doing so but figured it'd be better, and softer, than fucking his pillow. Stripping down, he stepped into the furthest stall from you and turned the water on hot.
You circled in the stall, glancing out to the previously empty shower room. You saw your clothes on the counter, then another set of clothes on the far end of the counter.
In the dewy fog of the mirror there was a figure in the furthest stall from you. You tilted your head back to rinse your hair, shutting your eyes to revel in the echoing silence of the tiled room.
Logan's ears perked over the echoing silence of the tiled room to hear the low sighs from you. His eyes twinged at his pupils dilating, his mind holding onto your sounds as he reached for his cock.
Without soap, Logan stroked his vein-strained cock barely containing the groan from doing so. He attempted to keep his noises to a minimum, letting a few soft whimpers and moans escape him as he tried to cum quickly.
It was an itching chase towards an ounce of relief. He leaned forward, bracing his forearm against the shower wall while the hot water battered down his back. The steam accumulated, catching in his throat and driving him to pant outwardly.
Tilting his head back, Logan tried to catch a dry breath of air, letting slip a pleased groan.
You froze in the shower stall, feeling the warm water on your back chill to ice instantly. You pulled your head from the stream to listen in on Logan.
Staring at his reflection in the mirror, you watched his back flex, hunched in the stream of his own shower.
Your chest felt compacted in the steam, your breath catching higher the more his noises seeped through.
You slid a hand over your thigh, gripping your own flesh before drawing yourself out. Rinsing off in a short huff, you shut off your water then walked out of the stall.
Logan paused, holding his cock in his hand as he listened in on you leaving. He tilted his ear in your direction, waiting for you to dress while his heart clutched.
The flashing thought of your skirt swishing freely with no panties to hide his newly found grail. He reminisced on the scent of your pussy, stroked mildly at rutting against you.
You quickly changed into your clothes, wringing out your hair before pulling on your shirt. Reaching under your skirt, you expected to find your panties next to your socks. However, you were met with the granite of the counter.
Glaring into the mirror, you expected to be met with Logan's teasing smirk but he was unmoving in his stall. With a narrowing of your eyes, you grit your teeth and pulled on your skirt then grabbed the rest of your soiled clothes from the floor and left.
You dropped your clothes off in your laundry basket, rushing to grab another pair of underwear. When you opened the drawer, you remembered that they were your last clean pair before having to do the laundry again.
With a gulp, you straightened your skirt out, measuring the length of them before giving up and going out to the yard. You made no sudden springy movements, going to sit at the patio table with Ororo and Xavier while they spectated Scott and Kurt's tennis game.
Logan snapped his head up from focusing on his cock when the door slammed after you. He smirked lowly, flashing the knob to cold then off before going to his pile of clothes and dressing.
You sat back in your patio seat, taking in the sun and scent of manicured grass and bushes surrounding the mansion yard. Your legs were crossed tightly over one another, straightening your skirt out underneath to keep yourself decent for however long you sat around.
"How was sparring?" Xavier asked, following the neon yellow ball back and forth between the two mens' rackets.
You flashed your head up to meet Xavier's squinted glare; your mind scrambled with what to say to explain anything that happened.
"It was eventful," you said, looking over to Ororo and back.
You met Xavier's eyes again, the silence growing before the Professor's eyebrows raised. "I see."
You nervously smiled, straightening up a bit. "I mean, it was only ten minutes. He called my power 'cute'."
Xavier's mouth straightened in a line, nodded once before turning to see Logan walking into the backyard. "I'd never known him to use that word. Logan?"
You glared at Logan, your eyes shadowed by the sunlight. He was dressed in a plaid shirt unbuttoned, a beater and another pair of sweatpants. Your breath caught again, your legs becoming heavy with the threat of uncross.
"What's up?" He asked, standing next to Xavier, resting his hand on the back of the Professor's chair.
"How was training?" Xavier asked, still looking at you.
You straightened up in your seat, now looking to Logan. He tried to maintain a chaste view of you, even with your panties stuffed into his pocket.
It was short-lived, his eyes raking down to your skirt; the way it fell against your thighs and the crease of your legs clamped together.
With a gulp, Logan turned his attention to Xavier: "It was fine."
Xavier's straight mouth returned, offering the man a soft shake of his head.
"Oh, what did you two do?" Ororo asked, pulling her teacup to her lips to hide her smirk.
"Nothing," you, and Logan, added quickly. You turned to Logan then back to Ororo.
"Nothing happened," you repeated to her, sitting upright to rest your arms on the dark wood table.
"You pinned him, I wouldn't say that's nothing," Xavier mentioned, pulling his own teacup up to take a sip.
"You pinned him?" Ororo repeated, turning to Logan as she set down her cup. "She pinned you?"
Logan grit, his mouth forming its own tense line before looking at Xavier. You did the same.
"I-I didn't say anything," you said, trying to explain yourself to Logan.
Logan's shoulders relaxed in a heavy sigh just as Ororo giggled in delight: "You didn't have to."
Raising a brow at Logan, he shook his head and nodded to Xavier. "He reads minds."
You stiffened, your eyes slowly migrating over to Professor Xavier. He smiled, tipping his cup to you.
"Secret's safe with me, my dear."
You deflated, trying your best to hold Xavier's gaze though you wanted to see what Logan was making of it. Opening your mouth to make some sort of explanation, you were interrupted by Rogue calling out to the yard that she was making lunch if anyone wanted a sandwich.
You were unmoved, though Kurt and Scott were quick to leave the tennis court. Ororo stood up, grabbing the teapot in the center table and offered to brew a second pot.
"I'll help you, my dear." Xavier opted, gearing his wheelchair across the patio and through the glass doors before they shut after him.
You were left alone with Logan once again. He was unmoving from across the table, staring over at you while you shut your eyes to keep your breath.
"I bet he saw what we did," Logan said, circling around the table and leaning against it before you. "That's why he left, made Ororo go too."
You opened your eyes to meet Logan's eyes, dark and warm, though his pupils appeared to be pulsing.
"We-I--" you tried to respond though your stomach was knotting nervously.
The heat of the day, combined with the quick recall of Logan rubbing against you, made you clench your legs tighter. It was a fruitless endeavor, Logan could smell your wet as it caught onto your skirt.
He wasn't sure how much further he could be around you without relief. He was throwing caution to the wind, thinking he could withstand another soft breeze in your presence without breaking down to convince you to...
You undid your legs, parting your legs after the strain of keeping chaste. "You like panties, Logan?"
You rested your arms on the chair, righting yourself to allow the breeze to blow teasingly upskirt. Logan turned on his hip to face you, dipping his hand into his pocket to loop a finger around the cotton.
He peeled them out, flashing them over to you. "I call it a consolation prize, for tapping out earlier."
You tempted your tongue between your lips, shifting in your seat to bring back the friction Logan gave you earlier.
"I thought the humping would be enough of a consolation," you said, crossing your ankles together.
Logan showed his grit teeth, his eyes slipping to take in your outfit. "I'd call that an appetizer." He dangled the soft cotton panties from his middle finger, folding it into his hand to rub his thumb against the lining of them.
"I like it fresh," he teased, his brow barely taunting from its resting spot.
You straightened your neck, rolling your shoulders back to push your chest forward. "I don't know what you're talking about."
Logan smiled boyishly, something that you wanted from this specific man since you got here. Your heart fumbled, which Logan heard and it made his mouth water.
"Your pussy, darlin'. My main course."
With the words leaving his mouth, you expected him to burst into laughter. But his maw was left open, adjusting his jaw as you bit back your eager want for him to eat you.
Logan stepped closer, nudging a knee between yours to separate them. "It's been on my mind all morning."
You tried to steady yourself, meeting Logan's eyes again as he loomed over you. There was nothing you felt that you could say to make it better. Your stomach was now melted to nothing, spreading your legs further than Logan silently willed.
Logan mapped out your face, giving no leeway to your want or disgust. You glanced over to the glass doors behind Logan, noticing the curtain furl.
You stood, coming close to Logan to take his musk. Naturally woodsy, his sweat undertoned by a metallic heat that came off of him. Your breath was lost again, glancing to his naked collarbone then his neck and finally him.
"All morning?" You asked in a soft voice.
Logan heard your question clear as day in his ears, focusing all of his starved attention on you. The bait was acting alone now, luring him to a salvation he'd forgotten about.
He lost his words, his nostrils flaring as he gruffed at you. You folded your lips together, staring down at the terracotta patio beneath both of your feet.
You glanced over your shoulder to the corners of the shrub garden then back to him. "Out of sight?"
Logan's face quirked in amusement at your question, his brow tempting to curl. "I'll eat you out on the dining table if you prefer."
Your heart sank down your body just as the invigorating shock shot up your spine. Logan peeked down to see your nipples peaking through your heather blue X shirt, making him wet his bottom lip patiently.
You grabbed onto his shirt, pulling him after you onto the grass then into the flower garden. You were intoxicated in his proximity, lowering down onto the ground for him to make up the distance.
Logan did so, leaning in to fervently kiss your lips. He'd never dreamt of a kiss so hungry, licking into your mouth to scour your taste before pulling away to grip your jaw.
You ground your ass into the tilled dirt, becking after Logan's mouth to chase the instant high rushing through you.
Logan went for broke, touching at your legs and admiring them under his fingertips. He hissed at your neck, his nose wiggling to inhale all you gave off. The supple sweetness of your skin: your lotion barely washed off, your shampoo still fragrant in the nape of your neck, your pussy wet just a cherry on top to the intricate bouquet of you.
He nipped at your skin, licked down and up your neck before finding your kiss again. You panted into his mouth, chasing for more just as he balked and dragged his nose down your chest.
Logan gripped at your breast through your shirt, breathing over the soft peak of your nipple before closing his mouth over it. You bucked, your heels grinding into the dirt while you stifled yourself.
Logan parted from your nipple, turning to swirl his nose around the other before continuing down your body. He licked his lips fully at your skirt, taking the hem of it and slowly peeling it back to reveal your pussy.
For once his imagination matched up, your naked pussy a wet mess. You parted your thighs further to allow Logan a better view and he appreciated it. His cock appreciated it, the inner animal appreciated it.
He stretched his body out in the dirt after you, circling his hands at your hips in admiration. Logan dragged his lips at your thigh, taking grip of it to kiss heartily at your skin.
His lips sectioned on your flesh, nibbling carefully between kisses before turning to your other leg and doing the same. Your legs were already shaking in anticipation, your heels raising out of the dirt.
Logan leveled you back down with a crestfallen glare up your body. He placed a hand at your stomach, giving you the instance to connect.
"Let me..." he began, panting and licking at the inside of your thigh. "At my own pace. Don't rush."
You gripped at his hand, steeling your resolve and nodding carefully at him. Logan smirked, taking his lips to kiss your clit.
You flinched, but didn't buck after him when he retreated. You bit at your bottom lip, staring this man down as he kept your eyes and licked a soft stripe against your pussy.
Your brows knitted together, opening your mouth to groan. Your squeezing hand on his tensed, unsure if you wouldn't last as long as he intended for you.
"Keep it here, beautiful," Logan purred, circling his tongue against your clit. "Focus here."
Your chest felt an internal skip, keeping Logan's eyes as he finally gave in to his want and began work his tongue on and around your pussy before inching a finger into you.
Your eyes crossed, trying to hold on while his thick digit pumped into your walls. You broke, tilting your head away from his gaze to cry out.
"I love that noise," Logan muttered, breaking from your pussy to caress your thigh again.
His finger never stopped, pumping a bit faster to follow the pulsing of your walls. When he pulled it out slightly, he opted a second finger in and watched you break further.
Your walls welcomed him eagerly, writhing softly in the dirt at the feeling. Logan returned to your clit, aiding you and his fingers as they curled and stroked.
"Is that good?" He growled, losing all humanity in his voice as red began to taint his vision.
The vignette circled his eyes, leaving you the sole focus in his mind. You crooned, nodding carelessly as your hand squeezed a bit tighter at his.
Logan continued, grinding his rigid cock into the dirt beneath him. The thought piqued in the back of his mind, straightening a third finger to match his others and working it into you.
You panted out, seating your hips a bit harder in the dirt as Logan pumped three fingers into you with intent.
He smacked his lips, dragging them against your thigh before biting at your skin. You moaned, your thigh twitching in response.
"I gotta work you open," Logan offered, his voice piggybacking on a growl stuck in his throat. "My cock won't in your tight pussy just yet."
Your eyes watered, watching the beast come undone from the man. You nodded in agreement, holding out for Logan to do as told.
Your pussy was throbbing from the attention, your clit hitting the cool air and beckoning you overboard.
"It feel good, sweetheart?" Logan asked, not expecting an answer as he returned to your clit. "You wanna cum on my fingers? The wetter you get, the easier I'll be."
You were breaking now, your hand guiding Logan's up under your shirt to take handful of your breast. He smiled against your pussy, sucking on your clit harder as he worked at your nipple.
You raised your hips slightly, the work of Logan's knuckles sliding through you hard to ignore. Logan slurped, sating the rumble in his stomach with your taste.
"Come on, beautiful, come on. In my mouth, on my fingers," Logan slurred against you, his words vibrating into you.
You tightened your stomach, sitting up to meet his eyes again. Logan stared along the lengthened topography of your body, taking a tender squeeze at your breast just as your other hand went to his hair.
He smirked, raising his nose before nudging down. "I want to watch you cum."
His fingers sped up, his lips suctioned at your clit to drive you to see stars in your vision. You couldn't hold back your noises, moaning lowly down your body as Logan squeezed at your nipple.
"Logan," you gasped, coiling on his actions at once and tightening your fingers in his hair as you came.
Riding into his mouth and fingers, you whimpered at the rolling lush within you, making you floaty while your heart raced.
When you felt you were finished, Logan continued. He drew out a few twitches in your knees, your stomach tightening as you pussy pulsed around Logan's fingers.
Logan licked you clean, making long stripes at your pussy as he slid his fingers out. The long string of your wet followed, his digits coated in your essence.
You whined at his retreat, your body collapsing after the synapses stopped firing. You caught your breath, lolling your head back between your shoulders.
Logan licked heartily at his wet fingers, savoring your mild taste before sitting up on his knees to slide his hand down his pants. He stroked his cock with the remnant of your wet on his hand, only working his rampant urge further.
Pulling his hand out, he glanced over to the glass doors then back down at you. "Let's go upstairs, sweetheart."
You sat up, sighing at the wisps of pleasure that slipped through you. Meeting Logan's eyes, you nodded, your stomach tickled at chasing another high.
Logan refrained from showing surprise on his face, his brows laxing from his eyes before grabbing your wrist and leg, hoisting you over his shoulders.
You squeaked, feeling his arm curl around your leg as you rested on his built shoulders. The dirt on your skirt shed down his body as Logan stood up, making his way across the backyard onto the patio.
He puffed his chest in silent triumph, readily showing his trophy as he opened the back door. When he stepped inside, he noticed Xavier and Ororo sharing tea in the doorway of the dining room.
Logan raised a brow at the two of them, moreso Ororo who'd pulled up a chair next to Xavier's wheelchair.
"Really?" Logan grit as you ducked your head in slight embarrassment.
Xavier was unmoved as Ororo nervously stood and attempted to hide her smile with her teacup.
"I'd predicted this," Xavier said, taking another sip before moving his chair into the dining room. "Ororo, you owe me dinner."
"Professor," Ororo stressed, following Xavier into the room, leaving Logan to glance at you turning bright in embarrassment.
He jostled you tenderly, shaking his head before carrying you upstairs. Logan glanced around the floor then rushed into his room. He carefully tossed you onto his bed, watching you bounce among the stray feathers from his desecrated pillow.
His brows flexed, watching your skirt flow at the same, allowing him another glance at your naked pussy. You settled yourself in the center of the bed, holding your hands out to brace yourself.
Logan stood at the edge of his bed, eyes raking up and down your body, rewarding himself with the presence of you in his bed. Now that you were here, he was unsure where to have you first, if you'd recoil after the first time.
Logan clambered onto his bed over you, his hand haltingly touched up your thigh before pulling your leg to his hip. You touched his cheek, earning his soft snarl before relinquishing. Your fingers slipped further before reaching his hair, combing through it with his short locks curling around your digits.
Logan leaned into your neck, inhaling your scent as his hands kneaded at your bare thighs and up to your ass. He turned you both over, finding his back to the bed.
You adjusted over Logan, resting your knees on the bed to brace his waist and his unyielding, actively throbbing cock. You gasped, looking down at where you sat then to Logan.
He smirked knowingly, barely raising his brows as his eyes did the teasing. "I told you."
Your brows knitted in concern, raising on your knees as Logan curled an arm arounf your waist. With his free hand, he shrugged at a hip of his sweats, his cock barely snaking from its confines before grabbing it alone.
You looked down at his grip on his cock, his fist barely taking half of his length. He was strained with veins, a member stringent and alert with his cockhead red and leaking with precum.
"Oh, oh my god," you breathed, your chest tightening as your pussy pulsed in response.
You braced a hand to Logan's chest, shifting over Logan's cock before raising higher on your knees to point his cockhead to your entrance.
The two of you met eyes, Logan's irises blown to obsidian while he panted. You pouted softly, sinking onto Logan's length. His cockhead popped into you, instantly making you tempt a sated smile.
Logan restrained himself, shutting his eyes to ease out a breath. He'd allow you the lead at first, but was itching to take over.
He'd need to sink his cock deep into you after all, for his own relief. Logan knew that he'd make his knot fit in you, but that was getting ahead of himself.
Your hand gripped at his beater, whimpering as you wiggled your hips to slide Logan further in.
"You're taking me so well," Logan praised, reaching under your skirt to caress your hip.
You felt his thumb on your skin, coaxing you further until you couldn't anymore. Your eyes lulled, fluttering, at reaching an internal pause.
You rolled your hips again, squeaking when you did before attempting to reverse on Logan's length. Logan huffed at the white-hot core of you, enraptured with the roll of your hips at an attempt to go further.
Logan propped himself up on his elbow, his hand on your hip stilling you with a hiss. You moaned, leaning back an inch to lift off of him.
His nostrils flared at your retreat, your pulsing walls slicking his length. You paused halfway, returning your way down on Logan's length again.
His brows shot, his hand tensing to clench your hip but groaned out instead.
"T-too much, I can't," you mewled, bowing forward against his chest.
Logan huffed mirthlessly, slowly righting you on him. "C'mon beautiful, just a little longer like this. Then I'll take over."
Your pout protruded, staring at Logan for him to take over that instant. He stretched his hand over to your mound, finding your clit and stroking it gently.
You hiccuped, losing sight as your eyes fluttered. Your knees tempted to squeeze at his sides, but Logan's other hand held your kneecap.
"Relax, relax," he ordered lowly, his hand snaking up your thigh coaxingly. "Just let...go."
You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to do as Logan said but feeling your neck twinge in strain. Logan tilted his head, unable to help himself from taking you in.
"Come here," Logan said, pushing himself further forward for you to meet his lips.
He kissed you, earning a heightened moan from you. Logan's thumb kept stroking your clit, making you slowly melt around his length.
You hummed, twitching at each touch he gave you. His fingers spread against your waist, taking in more of your miniscule movements. Each soft buck your hips did earned his hums of encouragement into your mouth.
When he parted from your lips, you rested your forehead against his. You panted lowly against his lips, your hand going for the back of Logan's neck.
"Are you gonna be a good girl and cum again?" He asked, nudging his nose against yours.
Logan was biding his time, luring you further in before he took hold. His hand at your thigh continued up your side, shrugging your shirt up to reveal your breasts.
You nodded against his forehead, slowly raising up on your knees then back down in a slow rhythm. He sneered, his top lip peeling back to reveal a sharp white canine.
"I'm gonna ruin you," he growled, letting you ride him as he breathed against you and stroked your carnal fire.
Logan's hand cupped under your breast, bucking into you when you sank down on his length. You gasped before Logan's mouth, nodding against his forehead in agreement.
"Yes, ruin me," you hissed, arching into Logan's touch as his thumb stroked your clit and flicked at your nipple in tandem.
And you moaned outwardly, your mouth gaping open as you nudged his nose for his kiss again. You were edging on the precipice of pleasure, clenching around Logan's girth.
Logan seethed, hummed and bided his time. "You're such a beautiful mess right now. Can I get you to cry?"
Your face scrunched, holding out though your eyes threatened. "Fuck, Logan. D-don't."
Logan grinned against your lips, taking your lips in another kiss. At the same time, he pinched tenderly at your nipple, bringing you to arch into him and orgasm on his cock.
"That's...my girl," he purred, circling his hand from your clit to grab your ass. Logan guided you to rock your hips on him, slowly taking more of his length in.
You gasped away from his mouth, feeling his cock push further into you. Logan hummed, running his nose down the length of your throat as he muttered his praises.
He lifted a hip, turning your over in his bed to lie down. Logan lifted your leg, thrusting further into you.
You threw your head back, squeezing your eyes shut to not draw tears. "Logan," you squealed, reaching to grip at Logan's only good pillow.
Logan lowered over you, righting his hips against your before pulling out. He took hold of your shirt, peeling it up over your face before tangling it in your arms.
He went for your skirt, tugging it down your legs as he sat on his haunches. You writhed on Logan's sheets, relishing the remaining euphoria buzzing over your skin.
Logan shrugged off his shirt, peeling up his beater to guide his cock against your swelling lips. You whined as Logan grabbed the back of your thigh and pushed it up to your chest.
"Almost there, sweetheart," Logan soothed, running his hand back down your thigh before resting his hand to your stomach.
Your pout returned, meeting Logan's eyes as he quickly thrust into you. Your hand drifted before Logan's face, allowing it to fall before you desperately grabbed at his beater.
"F-fuck Logan, I-I can't," you broke down, turning your face away from him to bite away your tears.
Logan lowered himself further onto you, your knee bracing further up his torso. "I know you can. You can last a minute longer, I'll make it worth it."
You shook your head against the bed, not meeting his sultry gaze. Logan nosed at your ear, his rolling breaths tempting down your skin.
"Darling," Logan mumbled down at you.
He reached a hand up to your throat, gripping softly at your jaw to turn you to him. Logan rubbed his thumb under your bottom lip before leaning in to kiss you again.
This feeling shot to your toes, your body livening to touch all you could of Logan's. When he broke, he nudged your nose and rocked his hips softly.
"You're still so wet for me," he praised in a whisper before your lips.
Your face scrunched again, not needing of his praise as he paved into you, echoing remnants of pleasure. "D-don't stop."
Logan's eyes rolled in relief, starting a softer pace to sate his feral urge to rut. The animal was sated, driving further into you and pausing for longer as he caressed your cervix.
You writhed underneath him, your knee twitching the longer his thrusts went on. You broke, raising to hide your face in Logan's neck with a few pitiful moans.
Logan was relieved at the wild throbbing of your pussy, the ghost of yet another orgasm ripping through you. He picked up for a moment, grabbing your other leg to draw it up to your chest before thrusting into you with finality.
You winced, feeling all of Logan's length housed inside of you. Your breath skipped as Logan's face scrunched in pleasure, his lips skirting before yours. He groaned out, showing his undoing as his knot slowly swelled just inside of you.
You hummed in slight discomfort, the thought of Logan filling you a distraction from the reality. Logan collapsed over you, dropping your legs and curling his arms around you.
"That's..." he gasped, kissing at your chest then up to your neck, "my girl."
You hid a roll of your eyes, realizing that earlier this same day you two were unknowing of one another. You braced a hand to your damp forehead, combing your hair away as you caught your breath.
"I'm gonna keep you," Logan teased, nudging his nose along your collarbone. "to get you through my days."
You glanced down at him, noting a boyish lightness about him. Your hand went for the back of his neck, curling through his hair again.
You felt the pulse of Logan's cock inside of you, twitching though he was nestled sturdily inside you. With a quirk of a brow, you slipped a hand between the two of you, reaching down to assess the situation.
You gasped at the odd feeling of him plugged inside you. His cock was still a part of him, his balls nestled carefully just against your inside hip. This was definitely new.
"Hey, hey, beautiful I can explain," Logan said, lifting onto his arm to look down at you.
Your bewildered eyes met his and laughed in slight disbelief. He smirked somewhat nervously, taking in your silence with grace.
"I am part animal..." Logan began, though that was all he had as explanation.
Your brows knitted in concern. "What is it?"
Logan shrugged, though he knew what it was. He knew its purpose. He still wanted to introduce you to it.
"It's...a knot. Just a little oddity," he continued, kissing at your cheek to coax you down. "Only shows up when I'm in rut."
You were sure your face was expressing more than you wanted to. Logan wanted to laugh with you, but was waiting until you were actually amused.
"Rut?"
"Just a few days where I have the animal urge to fuck," he muttered, dropping his head to your shoulder at the realization that this was not going how he'd wanted.
Still, you were not as put off as you once thought you'd be. With a soft gulp, your hand in his hair resumed coyly.
"Just a few days?" you asked, ducking your chin to look at Logan.
Logan's smile returned half-watt, sitting up to kiss your lips. "Maybe a few more with you."
You hummed after his kiss, your eyes rolling at the feeling of him and his cock. Logan broke away first, moaning at the loss of your kiss.
"And that little trick of yours, but I'm not picky."
You scoffed, giggling at Logan as you playfully shoved at his shoulder.
summary: You try to retrieve your stuff from Logan's place.
tags: NSFW, hate/disgust, scent obsession, begging, longing, mixed emotions, conflicting feelings, physical anger, makeup sex, mating press, wrap it before you tap it psa, breakdown
Logan woke up at the alarming banging on the front door. He'd wasted yet another night drinking, his eyes adjusting to the new view he found himself in. His coffee table was decorated with brown bottles before him, the comfort of his couch not aiding the noise.
He pushed himself upright, pulling his stomach sideways with a groan. Logan managed to stand up, knocking over a few bottles from the table before going to the door.
You tried your best to find the most unappealing clothes to show up in, but it wasn't helpful that you managed to find the flannel you chose was, in fact, Logan's. As the door swung open, you dropped your extended fist to cross your arms.
You hung your head low, only looking at Logan's dirty jeans. Cocking your jaw, you glanced up at him and met his eyes already on you.
"I'm here for the rest of my stuff," you said, adjusting your eyes over Logan's shoulders to take in the state of the apartment.
You pulled your concern back, knowing it wasn't your place anymore. And it wouldn't be after today.
Logan's eyes took you in, his hand bracing the doorknob. His mouth opened, ready to say something, but stepped aside for you to come in.
You managed to slide past him and inside, narrowly avoiding his body. Logan didn't bother to hold himself back, leaning in to catch a whiff of your hair.
"I've tried calling you," Logan tried, watching you pause at the dining table. It was still dressed the way you'd left it on that disastrous day.
The flowers in the vase were wilting, the petals scattering around the table. Truly a testament to your relationship.
"I know," you responded softly, migrating slowly to take in the living room.
You nodded, your mouth open in disbelief of his coping method. Glaring over your shoulder at him, you scoffed and dropped your arms.
Logan shut the door after you, staring at the back of you as if he could will you to turn around. His mouth stuttered open again, wondering what he could say to get you back to him.
He reached out to touch your elbow, but you immediately shrugged your arm away. You hid a disgruntled shudder, stifling your chest readying with sobs.
"I've been..." you began, only to stop yourself as Logan stepped up behind your back, "busy."
Logan leaned in to smell your hair, his eyes rolling at the familiarity. His hands migrated to your hips, guiding you back into him. You tilted your head, attempting to avoid Logan's hot breath that rolled down your neck.
"I've missed you," Logan huffed, tempting his nose to your ear.
You shook your head, shutting your eyes at remembering your final moments here. Jerking out of his hold, you drew your hand up and swatted Logan's hands away.
"Fuck you," you spat, rushing your way into the bedroom.
Walking through the doorway, you were overcome with the events again. Once again, you felt Logan's breath on your neck. Once again, you felt his body over yours, his words worming into you and making your warm.
You felt his kiss on your mouth, catching yourself to shield it with your hand. Logan lingered where you left him, looking after you once again.
He walked after you, itching to touch you again. His lips tingled at the thought of your lips, watching you walk to the closet. To pause, he sat on the edge of the bed and stared at you, pondering his next move.
You stifled a breath, tearing open his drawers to empty your items to the floor. Your socks tumbled to the hardwood, rolling away in misshapen balls. Your pants, skirts, pajamas, all flowed to your feet unceremoniously.
All of your clothes were before you in a heap, all except your underwear. When you opened the top drawer, expecting your bras to be the separation between your panties and Logan's boxers, you were slightly disheartened at the emptiness.
Logan froze at the questioning look on your face, knowing that you had found something most unpleasant. Or not found something.
You side glared at Logan, wondering it was that he could've hid them. With a deep breath, you parted from the dresser to grab a trash bag from the kitchen.
"Wait, wait, wait," Logan pleaded easily, blocking your exit of the room. "Sweetheart."
His arms were readily held open to embrace you, something tempting to stop the ache within you. His coaxing was always reassuring enough, and this wouldn't be any different.
You held your hands up, attempting to avoid any touch of Logan's. He was venomous, willing to tighten around you to make you his prey. "Logan, please."
Your eyes threatened to water, your teeth gritting as you turned away from him. "I can't, I can't."
Logan witnessed the grueling emotions warring on your face. As he stepped towards you, you wandered further into the room so long as it was away from him.
He didn't say anything else, holding his arms out to welcome you in though not cornering your to do so. Your hands found their way into your hair, slowly feeling the facade of coldness evaporate the more time you spent in a room with him.
You tried to regain yourself, eyes boring at Logan while they burned in anger. Dropping your hands, you pointed at him from your former bedside.
"What the fuck is wrong with you, hmm? You can't fuck me over like this and then want me back!" You yelled, reaching for your pillow and tossing it over at Logan.
He ducked narrowly, allowing your pillow to flop behind him. With glancing behind him at it, he missed ducking the second pillow hurled at his head.
"You're the fucking worst, Logan. I hate you, I hate you!" You bellowed, hoping that speaking the words aloud would rekindle the burn within your chest.
But doing so only threatened more tears, making your nose sting. You gulped, soothing your hoarse throat for a moment as you lifted your chin.
"I'm sorry," Logan said, speaking more into shoulder after being hit with the pillow.
He glanced down at your pillow before his feet, the pillowcase sliding to reveal your hidden underwear.
"I'm fucking sorry, okay?" Logan grit, lifting his head to meet your eyes. "I regret it. I deserve this, I do."
You struggled to blink as Logan cut the distance to you. He grabbed onto your hands, bundling them into fists. "You wanna hit me? Do it. You wanna fucking scream?" Logan leaned into your face, his nose tempting against yours. "Do it. I deserve it. I deserve every fucking slight you have against me, everything..."
Your fists tightened in his hold to a degree you threatened harm to your own hands. His hands held at your wrists for a moment longer, staring down at your lips before letting you loose.
You shut your eyes, slighting your nose away from him. Your fists battered at his chest, giving your all though you felt tired in doing so. When your fists ached, you palmed his chest and shoved him away.
"Fuck you, Logan," you said, quickly eyeing his chest. His beater revealed the slight smattering of his chest hair. You ignored it and shoved him again, a bit harder and wavering his stance. "Fuck you. Fuck you!"
Logan withstood your berating, staring down at you fighting against him with no fight back. He held his hands out again, taking soft grip of your elbows.
"Fuck you, fuck you, I hate you, I hate you!" You repeated, trying to remain tough though you were losing all fight. Your tears finally broke, blinding your fury and making you pause while taking grip of his shirt.
You cried, letting him touch you with gentility you remembered. Your stance wavered, curling your head against his shoulder as you chest heaved.
Logan sniffled in response, his heart stinging at your breakdown. He deserved worse, he knew, ready for you to batter him down and kick him still.
You tilted your head to look up at him, hiccuping more cries back. Logan angled his chin down to look at you, his eyes taking in your ruddy face. This was the worst, witnessing your hurt so openly.
He deserved nothing less than your leaving. He didn't understand why he'd done it, but if he could go back, he would've.
Still, he tried to lean in again, holding his breath as his nose brushed against yours. You whimpered, your eyes fluttering to succumb to his kiss. It was warm yet bitter, the stale beer on his breath nothing less than comforting.
Logan's hold on you tightened, bending to your whim while selfishly taking more of you. He sat, leaving you to follow into his lap. Your knees slid onto the bed, sitting on Logan's lap as your tears tainted your kiss.
He paused, allowing you to breathe, to think about what you were doing. But you eagerly followed after his mouth, squeezing your eyes tighter to will yourself to stop crying.
Logan grimaced, feeling your chest heave against his; you inhaled a sharp breath, biting back another whimper. His hands carefully stayed at your elbows, not wanting to scare you away.
You tugged at Logan's shirt, silently willing him to undress. He did his best, taking his hands back to peel his shirt off. It was a quick break away from your lips, which you made up as soon as it was off.
Logan's hands held at your elbows again, feeling your hands migrate over his shoulders then down to admire the hair on his chest. He expected you to regain your senses, to bite his lip and scramble off of him.
You reached for the buttons of your flannel, tugging the shirt open before shrugging it off of your shoulders. You redirected Logan's hands under your sports bra, instructing your to knead tenderly as you reached to peel it off.
Tossing it behind you, you pushed Logan back onto the bed then went to undo your jeans. Logan looked down your body, following your lead but slower. He watched as you peeled your jeans from your hips along with your panties.
Logan gulped at the sight of you again, his eyes raking over your body in admiration. He wasn't sure what this would mean after, but he hoped that he could make it up to you.
You stood to take off your pants, allowing Logan to do the same with minor hesitation. You paused at the sight of his hardened cock, flopping against his stomach. Your chest burned anew, less with hatred and more with desire.
Climbing back onto the bed, you knelt over Logan while you stared down at him. It felt that you two were crossing a point of no return; your body was hot with the temptation to cut and run.
But you took grip of Logan's cock, noticed his soft seethe at your touch, then slipped his cockhead between your slickened lips.
You lowered onto his cock, a hand bracing out to his chest to meter his length into you. Logan bit back a snarl, tilting his head back to grunt.
He tightened his hands into fists, held them to the bed to not chase you off. Your fingers twitched on his chest, looking to meet his eyes though he was squeezing them shut.
"L-Logan," you whimpered, begging his attention with a slight buck of your hips.
Logan growled, opening his eyes to glare at you from under his brow. He couldn't deny you anymore, grabbing your hips and turning you over on the bed.
"I-I'm sorry," he apologized, nudging his nose against yours while his hands found the backs of your thighs and pushed them up. "I love you."
You gasped as your knees met your sides, angling your ass up for Logan to deepen his length into you. Your hands went for the sides of Logan's face, outwardly moaning against his lips.
He exhaled deeply, growling at the heat of your walls begging him deeper. Logan planted a knee to the bed, rolling his hips into you and earning a pitchy whine.
He started a careful pace, long and hot with his breath wafting down your neck. Logan rested his forehead against yours, squeezing into your thighs while you two shared a few pants unevenly.
"I love you," you declared softly, moaning when Logan stroked deeper.
Your hands circled around his back, digging your short nails into skin and earning his muted grunt. He deserved none of this, ready for you to disconnect from him in retaliation.
You met Logan's deep brown eyes, nudging his nose to kiss him again. You moaned into him, pushing him further into you. Logan lost himself in you, minding his strokes to keep you both engaged.
Your walls clenched around him, taking his kiss harder while you tried to hold on. Your hands slipped down to his ass, gripping him to beg him further in.
You came undone quickly, parting from his kiss to cry out in moans. Logan's name was on your lips, nothing less than pleads of more.
Logan's top lip curled, wanting to snarl but ducking his face into your neck. He came soon after, your needy walls begging his release. He opened his mouth and cried, actual tears dotting your blazing skin in the heavy sighs of euphoria.
"Every day," Logan began, his voice trying its best to not break. "I will make it up to you. I am so sorry. I'm so sorry, baby."
Your eyes fluttered slowly as you stared at the ceiling, the feelings you harbored earlier rushing back to make your eyes water. You choked them back, folding a hand to your mouth as you tried to go back to your hatred, to your disdain, though it faltered as Logan's warm body lay over you.
"I love you," Logan said, raising his head to see your holding back of tears.
He peeled your hand away from your mouth, leaning in to kiss you. "I love you."
You broke into tears again, biting away from his warm lips to turn into the mattress. "I-I..."
Logan understood, overly blinking his eyes before ducking his head to your neck again. "I know I don't deserve you."
Your chest wracked with a sob, one that Logan felt against his.
"But I'm willing to try and make up for it," Logan tried, kissing at your neck.
You tried to relax, only gasping to breathe before Logan's arms curled around you. "I can't say it enough, baby."
He pulled out of you, turning you both on your sides as you curled up before him. Logan ran a hand over your thigh comfortingly, knowing that this wasn't close to forgiveness.
