Pairing: John Abruzzi x reader
Summary: After John escapes Fox River, your hiding in some motel room with him when he thinks he needs to go after Fibonnaci, John’s paranoid the whole time, until you get him to focus on something else for five minutes.
The motel you were stuck in was something John would’ve never put you in before Fox River. The lights flickered and it smelled wet everywhere you walked, old smoke staining the walls yellow. Off Route-34, a busted pool out front that had seen better days, a motel where no one would even imagine John Abruzzi in.
You’ve been in this motel room for the past 24 hours, watching John pace into the floor, his jaw so tight your worried he’ll break teeth. He’s checking the door locks and the safety on his gun relentlessly, you thinking if you hear one more click you might go insane.
You finally speak up, “are you gonna keep pacing like some animal or stop for a second, we are fine for now”.
John halts, turning slowly to look at you, slowly opening his mouth. “You think any of this is fine, you think being in this fuckin’ motel waiting out fibonnaci, while I’m on a damn wanted list is fine” he asks.
“Well no, but there’s only so much we can do. And burning your footprints into the carpet might not be the best choice”.
That sent John stomping right over to you, sitting in the corner chair. Kneeling on his right leg, now face to face with you.
“You running that mouth isn’t much help Cara, but I still hear you speaking” John spits out, you can see him sucking his teeth after, trying to keep any vile words in.
You’re tired of this back and forth, spitting out “I don’t know why you keep arguing with me. You could let your anger out a different way”, when you leave forward, grinning from ear to ear like your pulling him along.
He growled, low and dark, and in a heartbeat he pulled you up and turned you around, face-first into the wall. You already moaning into the wall when you feel him press into your back, John panting into your hair.
John’s hands travel down your sides, reaching around to the front and unbuttoning your jeans, sliding the zipper down with one hand while the other slips into the front of your panties, slowly starting to rub.
When he pulls his hand away, a whine comes from your throat. John smiling into your hair like he likes to play with you. You’ve started pushing your jeans down yourself, tired of waiting.
John took that as a sign, not wasting any time. He was dropping to his knees again, helping you slip your jeans and panties clean off. His hands slid up from your ankles to your thighs, pushing your left leg up and diving into your middle.
Johns tongue pushed flat up against your pussy, licking right up to your clit where John starts sucking. He’s got your eyes rolling back, one hand in his hair while the others trying to pull your own shirt off.
He keeps going relentlessly, sucking and licking, his fingers trailing up your leg again and two of them plunging deep inside you, John curling his fingers deep, pushing down on that spongy spot up front making you see white.
“Fuck John, oh god” you whine, trying to keep your knees from buckling. You’re gripping your shirt with both hands now, pulling it up over your head and throwing it to the floor.
“You’re being so good for me” John praised you, pulling his fingers out and licking them clean. Licking the inside of your thighs and up your pussy one last time.
Your whining doesn’t stop, only silenced by John pulling you into his arms and kissing you, you tasting yourself on his tongue when he pushes it deep into your mouth. For a minute it’s the only thing you do, exploring each others mouths while your hands start pulling at his jeans, unbuckling and trying to push them down.
John spins you around, pressing your front to the wall again, his zipper dragged down rough and fast. A second later, his hand was between your legs, fingers sliding through your slick heat. Pressing himself into and whispering into your ear
“This what you want?” he whispered. “Me, fucking you up against some dirty-ass motel wall like a goddamn animal?”
You could only nod, chest heaving, cheek pressed to the peeling wallpaper as your body arched back, ass pressing harder into him.
He lined up behind you, one hand still on your hip, the other guiding himself into you in one hard, claiming thrust, going balls deep. A loud moan came out of your mouth, John taking it as a sign to keep going.
“Jesus,” he groaned, staying buried deep. “So tight. Like you’re made for me Cara”
John didn’t give you time to adjust, he just kept pulling back and slamming harder and harder into you, each snap of his hips bringing you farther along. The sound of him moaning into your ear like he didn’t care who heard had you on the edge alone.
“That’s it,” he growled. “Take it. Fuckin’ take it.”
The sound of skin on skin echoed in the tiny motel room, punctuated by his sharp breaths and your loud moans. It was like John was attached to you, chest to your back, one hand on your hip while the other wrapped around your throat, slightly choking and tilting you back to look at him, both of you breathing each others air.
“I should keep you like this,” he rasped, biting at the shell of your ear. “Pressed up, waiting for me to let you finish, holding it out”.
You clenched around him at the words, and he felt it, gripping your throat tighter.
“Yeah. You like that,” he muttered. “You love it when I fuck you like I’m never gonna get the chance again.”
Your knees buckled as your orgasm built up, starting to feel hot everywhere as his hand reached between your legs, rubbing your clit hard. Your knees starting to give out from the intensity.
“C’mon,” he whispered darkly. “Let go for me. Now.”
And you did, eyes squeezed shut, body locked up tight as pleasure tore through you, your jaw dropping wide open as you whined. You were barely aware of the guttural groan behind you as he followed you over the edge, spilling deep into your cervix, his chest heaving and his breath and hips stuttering.
There was silence for a minute, you both out of breath, sweaty, your eyes still locked with John’s as you laid back into his chest. John softening in you, not letting anything drip out of you just yet.
You laughed weakly. “That motel bed’s lookin’ real good right now.”
He chuckled, low and rough, and finally pulled out, pulling you with him.
“Next round,” he promised, voice full of dark affection, “we’ll use the bed. Maybe.”