Reader! who rejects Country!John flat out and John who rejects your rejection.
Well yeah he broke up with his now ex girlfriend, not because you were the new and hot thing that just warmed his old cock, but genuinely, your personality. The way you carried yourself with your head high, still stumbled and made mistakes and even with scratches on your knees you’d dust them off and keep pushing. Having to work since you were a kid just like him, head strong and always on the swivel to make sure the people around you were alright, looking after your younger siblings just like him, your smile, the look in your eyes when you’ve made up your mind—
He really liked that about you.
Even when you told him ‘no’ that first time, singular, he was right on your heels of your dirt ridden cowboy boots, knowing it would be the last time. He tsks and shakes his head, hands on his hips, “Don’t think so Dolly.”
Your eyebrows furrowed, “The fuck do you mean, ‘don’t think so’?”
The man doesn’t even reply, stands in the first like he’s been rooted deep there. Eyes telling you, ‘You know exactly what it means.’ And you do. Means he’s not playing Tom and Jerry with you like he usually does, that he’s not one of the little boys running around and strictly dating for better purpose. Will court you if he has to—
“I should sock you right in your mouth Mr. Price seriously.” You whisper, wiping your mouth because the whole situation was just ridiculous. He’d unexpectedly showed up to your job after your little incident, caught you right before your much needed smoke break at that. Said he needed to “talk.” You blinked, “ ‘M workin.” Cigarette and silver lighter you got as a Christmas gift from your grandfather inbetween your fingers in all. Price blinks too, lazily, as if he doesn’t know what shit you’re already on. The ends of his lip crack upward, rubbing his thick beard, “Charlotte said yer on break.”
That bitch.
Aiming to stir up trouble. No- you’re just talking. She just wanted you happy, married— not working your ass off trying to pay off the debt your father gambled away. And then theres John Price, the man your father is working for— the man you screwed like a slut till you were babbling nonsense behind the barn till you couldnt walk and he had to pick you up and take you home. Now professing his liking to you.
You’d thrown a very thick veil over that night. As if it never happened.
Didn’t want your father thinking you were doing him some “favor” by boning his boss or anyone else for that matter. You knew how rumors flew in this small town and you’d only told Charlotte. It’s best she was your one confidant. You were praying no one even saw this interaction you were having right now.
John’s large hand wrapped around your wrist he used to whip you around after you tried to storm off, “You’re gonna look me dead in my face ‘nd tell me you don’t feel shit towards me after that night?”
Your eyes are saying, ‘well, yes.’ As if it’s the obvious answer. But your hearts telling you otherwise, that the simple waves and small glances shared while seeing each other in passing meant something more, that the small shared soft laughter and moments of solitude in each others presence on the porch after he carried your drunk father home meant something. It’s what makes the words die in your throat, mouth opening then closing, then opening and closing once more.
He takes a step closer and you try to take one back, but your wrist is caught in his hand, closing in on you, “You like that feeling that I give you, makes your stomach turn int’ knots just from looking at me huh? That I won’t bull shitcha like everyone else ‘round here does?”
You scowl, trying to twist your hand away— he’s right. God damn it, this bastard is right! You stomp your foot, groaning in annoyance, “You’re fuckin annoying Mr. Price!”
He hums, free hand going to your jaw and gently bringing you close, nodding with that more than amused look in his gorgeous blue eyes you see so perfectly in the shade, “Oh, I’m fuckin sure.”
And he kisses you so sweetly, soft, taking his time molding your lips together, your legs almost give out, lucky his big hairy arms are wrapped around you.
your dorm bed was covered in shopping bags and lip gloss tubes ; you sat in the middle of it all , pretty . waiting to be admired .
“look jabby ,” you said , holding up a glittery tube and twisting it so the light caught . “this one’s called starlight . isn’t that the cutest name ?"
"and this one—oh my god—it’s the exact pink i wanted b—”
“yeah , yeah dollface , i’m watchin' ; don’t trip .” jabber interrupted , lounging at the edge of the bed . shoes still on and leaning forward like he might crawl into your lap .
his eyes didn’t leave your mouth ; every swipe of gloss made him twitch . “that shine’s crazy . like you’d stick right to me if i kissed you , shit’s wild .”
you giggled , oblivious . leaning into your little mirror , lips pursed . “mm . i think this one’s too thick , what do you think ?”
jabber didn’t even glance at the gloss .
his fingers toyed with your skirt hem . restless . “think you could wear motor oil on your mouth and i’d still be on my knees . lettin' you drive me nuts . lettin' you sit pretty and talk sweet—” his words spilled quick . tumbling , then dropped low .
almost reverent .
you blinked at him , lips shiny and parted . “jabs… you’re not even looking at the gloss .”
he grinned . too sharp . nose brushing yours . “nah , lookin at you . lil' haul could burn in a fire ; don’t care . i’d still be stuck right here . watchin you shine .”
his thumb dragged across your lip . smearing gloss . “obsessed babe . like—you don’t even know . got me gone .”
you tried to grab another tube .
he caught your wrist , pressed it to the mattress and crawled halfway over you . jittery . burning up .
“don’t switch it up now dolly .” his forehead pressed to yours . voice trembling . “show me that pout again . c’mon . lemme see it . lemme taste it . been dyin since the second you sat down—,”
his mouth crashed into yours .
messy . eager . gloss smeared like syrup .
he groaned , desperate ; grinding against your thigh like he’d lost control .
“fuck , you’re sweet , sweetest thing i ever touched . mine , yeah , say it—”
his words blurred , rushed . kisses all over your face . jaw . lips again . “mine . mine . mine—”
girlfriend troubles.🎤🤍 (MEAN!HUSBAND!SIMON x dolly!reader) part two ♡
he dodges the vase his toxic girlfriend now turned wife is throwing at his head. it bashes against the wall and bursts into shards. he's livid, fuming, veins popping out of his neck. 'what's wrong with you?! trying to bloody kill me, are you?!'
she's drunk again and starting a fight. this has been happening nightly with little to no making up. both of them just pretending it didn't happen as they await the other's next tantrum.
'it's fine when you do it, though, right?!' she roars at him. 'you can scream and break anything you want!' she's walking to him. 'i fucking hate you, do you know that, simon?! i fucking hate your useless, pathetic guts!' she's shoving his chest as hard as she can, but he's unmovable.
for once, he's not in the mood to fight back. jaw so wound shut he's threatening to break his teeth.
he's taking off his mask and grabbing his keys. walking out.
she's screaming after him, following him outside barefoot, ignoring the fact that she just stepped on a million shards of glass. 'where are you going, simon?! huh?! where are you even going?!'
he grabs her jaw, bruising it in his grip. 'far the fuck away from you, love,' he grits
he gets into the car and drives off. speeding through the night-slick streets. their wedding day was so happy. no fights in sight and not one thing out of place. but the magic wore off and descended to hell within a day. two years in, he's wondering just how much he can handle.
wanting nothing more than to drink his blues away, he pulls into a fancy hotel parking lot and books himself a room for a few days.
warnings: 18+ MDNI, dolly!reader, smut, pet names, reader being a brat, unprotected piv sex (wrap it tho), riding, finnick talking you through it, fingering, praise, begging(?), slight orgasm denial :((
summary:finnick has enough of your bratty behaviour
a/n: she’s backkkkkk, hello again beautiful people, i’m so so happy to be on here again, for the last year i was literally experiencing worst psychosis ever lmao, anyway i’m not here to complain but to deliverrrr, i got some very very sweet messages from y’all and it was the biggest motivation for me to come back on here. i got out of my extremely toxic and emotionally abusive relationship so now i finally can focus on myself and my writing again. thank you all for supporting my work <3
word count: 2.5k
"that's it baby, no more sass now, hm?" he mutters, while he leans his head back against the couch almost lazily, as he watched you straddling his lap, a huge contrast to his big, warm hands on your body. one was gripping your thigh and the other one was buried two fingers deep inside your pretty pussy, pumping in and out almost mercilessly.
finnick had been trying all day to make you cave, to make you give him your undivided attention and affection, showering you with kisses, sweet words and all but nothing seemed to work. ever since morning, you were giving him attitude and kept your distance. you could’ve not possibly be more different from your usual soft, clingy self.
"talk to me, pretty girl, hm? what's wrong?" your boyfriend tried to gently pry out of you, what got has gotten into you today for maybe the hundredth time since the morning as you had only given him flat, bratty answers to every sentence he spoke out loud to you. finnick wrapped his strong arms around your shoulders as you sat behind you vanity and applied some lipgloss to your pinky lips. his biceps flexed, the tanned skin glowed in the morning light so it made his muscly arms appear even more edible.
"don't wanna talk about it." you just mumbled densly, not even sparing him a glance as you finished getting ready and even shrugged off his embrace, which was most likely the last thing he expected you to do and the way his eyes widened and eyebrows rose spoke for it enough.
not so much later, finnick and you went to the town, just like every sunday. he lead the way through the crowded market, gaze dragging over each peace of the various fruits, vegetables, breads and you carried the, for now almost empty basket with just few herb tussocks on the bottom. while you stand half behind your man, more and more people start to cluster around so instinctively, he reaches out his arm to wrap protectively around your waist and pull you closer to himself, making sure he won’t lose you in the sea of people from district four, but you only whine quietly in protest.
“baby, c’mere, you’re in their way.” finnick tries to approach you softly again, tugging you into his side ever so gently as you were blocking the view of the carrot stall from the middle aged couple stepping impatiently behind you, even if they’ve been waiting for thirty seconds tops. the bronze haired boy was sure they were ready to use worse than mean glares towards his girlfriend so naturally he wanted to figure out how to avoid such a situation, but when he was met only with an eye roll from you, his jaw hardened noticeably and his look was now disapproving rather than questioning.
the very last of his intentions was to attract more attention or god forbid share your rocky morning with the rest of the town, you were watched closely anyway, unnecessary drama would be anything but helpful now. “don’t roll your eyes at me.” he murmured under his breath as he led you towards the stall with spices, because you’ve been complaining for weeks that they need to be restocked as soon as possible and you two always forgot, getting caught up in a conversation or just distracted by the moment, not today though.
“i’m gonna do, whatever i want to do.” you scoffed slightly, bottom lip already jutting out into that stubborn pout that drove your boyfriend up the wall in every way imaginable. it was now his time to roll his eyes, oh he hated when you were like this. he didn’t really. but he did. “is that so, pretty?”
and all he had to be satisfied with for an answer was a hum breaking past your lips. the sun was already high above your heads, providing the kind of warmth only late spring ever could. the crowd slowly eased into smaller groups, groups back into families and those have by now practically cleared the town square, heading back into their homes to prepare lunches. you and finnick weren’t different, soon enough, you managed to collect all the missing groceries, even stuck in tense silence.
the villa in victors’s village was now scented with the fresh rosemary, basil and garlic as your boyfriend cooked the pasta with creamy sauce, you were curled in the chair, unlike usually when you would sit on the countertop with your legs dangling above the ground and yap his ear off. finnick’s eyes were constantly trailing over to you, waiting, trying to read your own, that were squinted in focus as you read your magazine, something about the newest fashion trends he believed, you had always loved this stuff.
“i could’ve done it.” at that finnick’s head spins much faster into your direction again, his eyebrows shot up as he pauses stirring the boiling sauce. “it’s okay, honey, i got it.” he says, still being nice, but his tone is also anticipating, expecting. maybe you had calmed down finally.
“whatever.” or maybe not. you just mumbled the answer, before turning your attention back to the magazine on your lap. finnick’s face once again fell flat, he let out a deep sigh and turned off the stove, with each second the sizzling was quieting down and then your boyfriend turned to you with his arms crossed tight over his chest. “what’s with the attitude today, hm?”
“i don’t have an attitude.” throwing a small glare in his direction you said and before there could be another bratty argument coming his way, finnick made his way over to the dining table, towering over your sitting form. “yes you do, you’re being a brat since the morning. why’s that, baby?”
there’s only a soft huff coming out of your lips as they pull into a pout again and you turn your gaze away from him. “really? is this how’s it gon’ be?” and the lack of reaction he received was what has gotten you here. spread out over his lap, your knees on either side of his hips, skirt bunched up around your hips and your lacy panties pulled to the side so he’d have easier access to you.
“finn..” you whine helplessly, nails clawing at his shoulders as his thumb stimulates your clit, rubbing in circle motions while his middle and ring finger continue thrusting inside you, not giving you time to breath at all.
“oh, baby, what is it? y’ have something to say?” finnick cood almost mockingly. he watched your face twist in pleasure, he pulled his fingers out slowly, making you whine again at the loss of contact. he slid his fingers in between your folds, gathering the slick wetness on his pads before just teasingly circling around your entrance.
“finn, please, please..” you begged your boyfriend desperately to bring you over the edge as you clenched around nothing, trying to shift your hips to grind against his palm. “no sweetheart, none of that, you don’t get to cum until I say so.” finnick said firmly, stopping his movements entirely as he brought his other hand from your hip and wrapped it over your jaw, tilting your head up gently.
you look up at him all doe eyed through your lashes, absolutely angelic and needy. it always worked on finnick so you’d get your way of things with him, but not now, he seemed more than unfazed and just clicked his tongue slowly, head tilting sideways in a mock sympathy.
“why were you mouthing me off the whole day, huh? is it because you were needy, baby? is that it? ” finnick cooed, looking you right in the eye, his sea green orbs bored into yours and not even the needy whine you make seems to take pity on you and bring you to your orgasm. “just too shy to ask me, weren’t you angel?”
“finnick, you’re being mean.” the desperate cry rips through the air, your face is all scrunched and your fingers are gripping the soft fabric of his linen shirt tightly as if it would break him. his eyebrows rose to the top of his forehead and he let out a quiet chuckle that echoed in your head three times like a taunt that levelled your frustration - the deep sexual frustration you felt towards your bronze haired boyfriend and have been feeling for a quite some time now. “mean? i’m being mean, baby? y’ haven’t seen me be mean yet.”
but then without a warning, finnick slipped his finger back inside you gummy walls, then another one and relentlessly penetrated your soaking wet pussy with his long, thick digits again and again, purposely avoiding stimulating your clitoris so you had to embarrassingly buck your hips against his hand to get yourself off.
“that’s it baby, help yourself.” he praised gently, intently watching your eyebrows furrow with a smirk plastered on his face. content and proud. he leaned forward and pressed a soft, sooting kiss to your temple before finally caving in and blessing you with his full capabilities of pleasuring his girl. you moan softly, eyes squeeze shut and your walls fluttered around his fingers, leaning your head forwards, you press your face into his chest as if it makes the overwhelming sensation less intense. the coil in your tummy snaps, your orgasm flows through your entire body, making your thighs shake and your eyes roll back. finnick gently fingers you through it, letting you ride out the aftershocks as the string pf his praises mixes with the sound of your sweet noises.
“shh i gotchu honey, i’m right here.”
lost in the haze of your release, you barely even registered how hard was finnick beneath you. slowly, he pulled his fingers out, before bringing them up to his mouth, making a show of swirling his tongue around them and sucking them clean as he moaned at the delicious taste of your juices. “so fuckin’ sweet.” he murmured before taking ahold of your hips with both his hands again and tugged you closer to his chest, making you brush against the obvious bulge in his pants.
the rough material of his jeans rubs your sensitive, puffy clit and you whimper quietly, eyes staring up at him with pure desire. he smiles down at you with that cocky glint in his eyes that makes your knees buckled, before he pats your hip as an encouragement. “lift your hips for me, honey.”
it doesn’t take you more than two seconds to obey, finnick reaches down, unzips his jeans and pushes them just low enough so he can free himself from his boxers. just the sight of his thick length, tip angry red and leaking, makes you clench around the air again. without breaking eye contact he wraps his fist around the root of his cock before slowly lowering your hips down, guiding you to slowly take him inch by inch.
“that’s a good girl, you can take it.” you whine, whimper and moan when he’s not even halfway inside, your spongy walls already squeezing him. he feels your manicured nails bite into his shoulders again as he sweetly praises you to sit on his dick completely. “good job, angel. you’re doing so good.”
he gives you time to adjust to him. his cock is filling you so good, you feel him all the way in your tummy and he’s stretching your glistening pussy so wide you thought he will split you in half.
“finn..” you whine helplessly when he starts ever so lightly guiding you up before slamming you back down, hushing and comforting you with soothing words. his fingers dig into your hips, the softness of your body spills through them and your tits bounce underneath your top at the sudden motion.
“fuck baby, can feel how tight you are.” finnick groaned, throwing his head back against the back of the couch and his jaw fell slack purely at the feeling of you taking him whole and greedily clenching around him whenever he hit your g-spot with the pinkish head of his shaft that was stuffing you completely full. his hips fucked up into you and his hands that were gripping yours bounced you up and down in repetitive motions as you became a moaning mess on top of him and your slick was smeared all over his balls and the jeans he hadn’t pushed low enough to avoid coating them with your sweet juices.
“ugh, i finn..mhh..finn, ‘m gonna…” you try to speak but the sounds spill from your glossy lips on their own together with the glittery tears that roll down your cheeks, stained with your eyeshadow as your boyfriend continues fucking you stupid on a sunday afternoon all because you were being mouthy.
“yeah, shh i know baby, i know.” he pants as you start grinding your hips harder on his cock, chasing your second release. he raised his head straight again, looking at how breathtakingly ethereal you look in the haze of sex with your makeup smeared, hair messy and desperate for him. “y’ gonna cum f’ me again?”
you find yourself unable to do anything but nod frantically, nails clawing into his clothed back, pussy fluttering around him and squeezing him deeper. “y-yes, yes, please..” you sob so sweetly for him and he cannot but melt at the sight. he reaches his hand between your bodies and in mere seconds starts rubbing your clit in tight circles to bring you over the edge faster and harder.
“go on then, babydoll. ‘m right here.”
crying out his name, you reach your second orgasm in the last hour, your vision whitens and he sloppily fucks you through it. your eyes roll into the back of your head, your mouth hangs open wide in a pretty o shape and moments later, his milky, warm semen fills you to brim as it already starts dripping down at where you’re connected.
“god, you did so good, angel. m’ so proud of you.” finnick praises reaching his hand to wipe off the tears from your gorgeous face with his thumb, his touch was as gentle as it could be before he pressed a comforting kiss to your forehead, both your cheeks and then finally your pouty lips.
there was pathetically sick part of rafe that got off on knowing that he still had it — especially with such a young girl like you who was an absolute knockout, absolutely eager and willing to bend to his every whim. he had watched you bloom into the young woman you were today, but the moment you turned eighteen, you became a bit more forward with your intentions. from wearing skimpy bikinis whenever you joined his sweet son on family trips, to the thin satin dresses that tented with your hard nipples on thursday dinners — you made sure to always look your best for mr. cameron.
but what made rafe melt was the way you were so immersed in him, you completely dismissed how his son was head over heels in love with you — and you can call rafe a sick man, but he always craved being the center of attention, no matter the costs. his little boy would just have to move on, not that he ever stood a chance against his overpowering and domineering father.
so, when rafe’s son asked if you could spend the summer at tannyhill, rafe was eager to oblige, masking his reasoning with ‘wanting his next of kin to be happy at home’, despite his true intentions of having you surrender all of yourself to him, now running rampant is his tainted and somewhat deranged mind.
on the first night of your extended stay, you found yourself sat beside your best friend’s father, your tooth-achingly sweet and doting best friend seated directly across from you, completely oblivious to the way his father stared at you with that same sense of longing and desire.
you liked mr. cameron — he was always so sweet to you, he bought you the finest birthday presents, complimented your girly, but borderline inappropriate outfits, and he always seemed to know exactly what you needed at any given time.
and maybe, just maybe there was a part of you that knew he felt the same way about you too.
carelessly leaning over the dining table, you fought back a knowing smirk as your swollen tits bulged against the hem of your sleeveless romper, the ribbed fabric clinging to your warm frame as you reached for a piece of bread, “thank you for having me, mr. cameron,” you sang, your sweet voice all light and airy as you glanced at the older man, your heart jumping as you caught his eyes stuck on the fat of your plush ass cheeks that managed to swallow the romper.
masking his faux pas with a forced clearing of his throat, mr. cameron licks over his lips with a smile, “well — ahem, f’course, my wife and i really appreciate how good of a friend you’ve been to our boy, isn’t that right, honey?”
rafe knew exactly what he was doing, his trained blue eyes carefully taking in the way your plump smile faltered into a brief frown and how the sparkle in your eyes dimmed. your bubble of security had been popped in that very moment as you tugged on the top hem of your romper, your nailed fingers lightly grazing over the baby pink bow that had been sewn between the valley of your breasts.
your oh so pretty and fake smile only intensified as mrs. cameron sauntered into the dining room. you absolutely hated how your shared likeness towards mr. cameron had soured your perception of the clueless woman who still viewed you to be the daughter she always wanted.
placing a manicured hand atop of mr. cameron’s shoulder, you watch as the woman leans down to capture rafe’s lips in a quick kiss, “mhm. you know that we love having you over, sweetie. you keep us on our toes, dolly” she laughs, gently nudging the apple of your cheek as she makes her way to her seat, directly across from mr. cameron.
dolly — the dear nickname that you’d been given by mr. cameron, you’d always been so wet behind the ears, dainty, and entirely too vulnerable. but, it didn’t feel right coming from her.
answering with a short nod, you are a bit too eager to change the topic of discussion, a silent huff of stress leaving your faded plum stained lips as your best friend furrows his brows at your standoffish behavior, “y’okay?” he mouths, softly nudging your shin with the tip of his converse.
“i’m okay,” you mouth back, a soft smile on your pillowy lips as you steal a quick glance at mr. cameron who catches your sneaky gaze, sending you a quick wink as he takes a sip from his glass of chilled red wine.
licking over your dry lips, you swallow thickly, popping a warm and fluffy piece of bread into your needy mouth as mr. cameron’s long and slender leg brushes against yours. fighting back a smile, you remain silent as mrs. cameron enlightens the table about her new endeavors at cameron development, your eyes glazed over as you quietly hook your leg over his firm thigh.
honing your focus into chewing the piece of bread in your mouth, you watch from the corner of your bambi eyes as rafe inconspicuously slides a large hand over the smooth skin of your waxed leg.
now lost in the sensation of mr. cameron’s hand gently kneading soothing circles around your ankle, your eyes widen as rafe’s voice cuts into your dazed state, “y’seem pretty sleepy over there, dolly — everything a’ight?” he questions knowingly, his buzzed head tilted to the side as his pink lips part in anticipation of your next words.
feverishly nodding, you send rafe a forced courteous smile, “yes, mr. cameron — just sleepy,” you answer politely.
returning his attention to his son and wife, rafe keeps a tight hold on your small ankle, the cold bite of his wedding band digging into your warmed and bronze skin. you always loved to prance around tannyhill barefoot, you’re pretty pink toes on full display, ever since your younger days.
and rafe was painfully reminded of that, a feigned smile of interest on his handsomely structured face as he gave your cute little toes a gentle squeeze, every now and again.
all while his poor son and unsuspecting wife sat and ate their overly priced steak dinner.
high and nasty, implications of sex…which brings me to, needless to say, don’t like it, don’t read it, ty!
pairing(s): jj maybank x dolly!reader
jj never called the kook queen he hooked up with cause…she wouldn’t come over. why would a perfect angel even bother to come to his shed? though, it was getting unbearable. scrolling through your page, you sure knew how to run a social media account, that’s for sure. and those pictures sure knew how to give him a hard-on.
fuck it.
of course, he ended up calling you. and you couldn’t help but give in, driving all the way to the cut to ‘spend time’ with your pretty pogue, only to meet with the tent in his shorts when he opened the door.
that’s how you ended up on his old, creaking bed he never used cause he always stayed at john b’s, on the blonde’s lap. where you belonged.
jj felt so close to you in many moments but this was a special one. ‘I love you’ wasn’t something he’d say to you. he was scared to say it…scared to be vulnerable. but he did express it in a way he knew how. by touching you, by holding you close. watching you. watching the perfect you on his lap, in his pathetic excuse of a house, acting messy and stupid…like him. and you looked absolutely gorgeous doing so. It was a sight for sore eyes.
he wrapped an arm around your waist, keeping you in place as he placed a kiss to your neck, making note of just how you reacted to it. he had a habit of testing you like this, seeing how you would react to his affection. how needy you were. and he definitely was curious about what other ways he could make you react.
you tilted your head to the side to give him more access. in case it wasn’t obvious enough, you weren’t opposed to anything he wanted physically. especially not since you had done whatever he had in mind probably a thousand times before
his lips made their way to your jawline, slowly teasing a trail up to your ear, softly biting it as a hand moved to one of your legs, slowly, slowly inching up to your waist before disappearing under your shirt.
he was being needy, he didn’t realize it, but he was. but he didn’t care. he was high, and he just wanted you as close as possible. he moved your hair out of the way, giving himself better access as he sucked on a sensitive spot on your neck. which, at this point, considering he knew your body better than you did, made you let out a breath, your eyes fluttering close. If there was a benefit to your…well, benefits, it was that jj wasn’t just talk.
he found himself smiling against your skin, finding some sort of victory in the tiny noises he had been able to coax out of you so far. his lips returned to your neck, sucking and biting, making sure to leave a bruise, being the jj he always was. usually, you’d be all up in his business, whining, yapping about how it was gonna leave a bruise and that he needed to stop or whatever…but right now —mostly because you didn’t even remembered what to complain about— him in general and the things he made you feel…how could you tell him to stop? so, you didn’t. you played into it, hands reaching to grab his jaw gently and tipping his head up so your pink swollen lips could meet his.
he gladly accepted the kiss, moving his hands to your waist, holding you in a tight grip, pulling you closer and leaving little space between you. the more you rolled your hips over him, desperate for a friction, he sneaked his hands up from your waist, groping you from over your bra. which, as always, was a feeling he never got sick of.
with the little space you had left between you, you tugged at the hem of his shirt, suddenly —in your horny mind— feeling like it was unfair he get to keep it on. and you wanted him shirtless but you didn’t even knew what you were thinking.
it took him a second but he soon caught on to what you were indicating, pulling his shirt over his head and discarding it somewhere on the floor, his chest now exposed. he sat there for a moment before he pulled you closer, moving you back onto his lap, he needed you to be right against him right now, to feel as much of you as possible. “you’re tryna get me all worked up, aren’t ya?” he teased, his lips moving to your neck again.
“it’s working.” you breathed out, a faint smile tugging at your lips. jj was someone you were attracted to like you had never seen anyone hot before and you had zero problem showing that. and behind closed doors, the whole ‘this is purely just to let off steam’ bit flew out the window.
the feeling of your hands on his bare, now flushed skin only further confirmed how much he loved when you got like this. though you noticed the silence. “no answer for that?”
he huffed out a laugh, he said he liked control but to be honest, he loved it when you were cocky. but you were still in charge as he gave no verbal answer. “got you speechless? alert the media.”
he laughed at the comment, his usual cocky grin returning to his face. acting like he had been too focused on the sight of you to even give a smart assed comment, when in reality, he enjoyed hearing you way too much. he shook his head at your words, gripping your thighs tighter. “you just know how to push my buttons…”
he started to run his hands up and down your thighs, slowly, slowly as you thought, he couldn’t have pinned you a better shot…
“oh yeah? which button?”
your hand slowly went down to the button of your shorts. “this one?” you tugged at the fabric so the button would slide out, unzipping the rest. “this button?”
he looked intently. he wanted more, he always wanted more. and when your shorts unbuttoned, he took a sharp breath through his teeth, he was getting increasingly impatient. classic him.
“not that one...” he said, his tongue poking the inside of his cheek, his hands continuing to run over your thighs.
“no?”
you spoke, feigning innocent curiosity as you shimmied out of your shorts, hands going back on him without wasting anymore time, slowly ending up on the button of his cargo shorts. “maybe this one?”
he couldn’t take his eyes off you, the way you slipped out of your shorts, leaving you in just your underwear. the way you made him feel like a total loser when he had literally fucked the entire female population of OBX was enough to leave him stunned. he couldn’t hold back another sharp breath as he felt your fingers on the button. “maybe.” he said with his voice low, his hands gripping you tighter.
a smile tugged at your lips as you freed his button, moving away to unzip the rest just like your own, getting up from his lap and settling on the floor so he could take it off.
turns out it wasn’t a maybe, it definitely was that button.
I was so sick of digging shit out of my drafts cuz I left all of em undone so I wanted to write sumn for my new kook bby, enjoy!
the girls, their names, who they adore, & what they’re in… <3
(readers & masterlists)
honey/ace, steve’s girl <3
stargirl/star, eddie’s girl <3
bunny/bun, steddie’s girl <3
teddy, jj’s girl <3
apple/aps, john b’s girl <3
cupcake, pope’s girl <3
sweetheart, rick’s girl <3
dolly, joel’s girl <3
peach, bucky’s girl <3
button, frank’s girl <3
angel, rafe’s girl <3
plum, sarah’s girl <3
shortie, art/patrick’s girl <3
just wanna say i’m not like doing any specific concepts or whatever for these… this is me just giving nicknames to the reader with certain characters because i hate writing y/n and how it looks if that makes any sense…plus i like being organized lol <3
