In hindsight, you should have realized the day was going to take a turn for the worse. While the morning passes the same way it always does, you have a nagging feeling in the back of your mind that something is going to go wrong. Even as you go through your morning routine in the shop, the feeling persists, and you try your best to ignore it. You focus on a few regulars, stopping in to stock up on herbs or vials, some picking up the books they had special ordered. After they trickle out, you get a couple of new people. Some are clearly just curious, and as soon as they see what you are actually selling, they make a beeline for the door and are gone.
Around noon, a gentleman enters and immediately the hair on the back of your neck stands up. He has a permanent grin on his face, like he thinks everything he’s looking at is stupid. He has a couple of buddies with him, who look bored, and a young woman who seems nice. They wander for some time, and you keep your eye on them just in case any decide to cause trouble. Aside from loud talking and stupid jokes, they seem relatively harmless.
Eventually the group files out, but a few minutes later that one guy returns and heads back to one of the shelves he had been loitering around before. Your attention is drawn to another customer inquiring about a rare book, and you take the time to look it up on the computer so you can order it for them. Once they’re taken care of, the new guy steps up to the counter placing a few choice items that make you raise your eyebrow.
“Did you find everything okay?” you ask.
“Yeah,” he says, still smirking. “You don’t really believe in all this stuff do you?”
You take a moment to think of your answer, because the last thing you want to do is blurt out the first string of obscenities that comes to mind. Instead you say, “I do. This is my shop.”
He gives a half shrug, clearly not sorry he offended you, before he throws the right amount of bills and picks up his bag of supplies. “Thanks,” he says.
“You’re very welcome,” you say. “Do you need any tips or anything? I have a book here for beginners that I give out free of charge—”
“I think I can figure it out,” he sneers, cutting you off. Without looking at you, he snatches his change and then he’s gone.
The entire interaction doesn’t sit well with you, and you can’t help thinking on it for the rest of the day. Eventually five o’clock rolls around and you move about the shop closing up and speaking with the last few customers. It’s the weekend and you’re so ready to go home, eat dinner, and curl up in front of the TV for the next forty-eight hours. As soon as the last of the customers are gone, you lock up your bank, close the register, and grab your keys.
It’s not dark yet, but even still that uneasy feeling comes back as you lock up the shop, and you feel a shiver run down your spine. Without looking around, you shove your hands into your pockets and set off toward home. It doesn’t take long for you to hear footsteps and you instantly know you’re being followed. It’s something you’ve been anticipating, but even still your nerves are on edge and you have a horrible feeling in the pit of your stomach. The person calls to you, and you keep walking immediately recognizing the voice.
“Hey! I know you hear me!”
Inhaling deeply, you stop walking and turn to face him. Only to receive a clumsy punch. Your vision explodes with brightly colored spots and you stumble backwards, trying to remain standing. The customer from earlier looks angry as he punches you again, sending you colliding with the brick wall nearby.
“I take it you weren’t satisfied with your purchase,” you grumble, clutching your face.
“Your stupid shit didn’t work!” he snaps. “I made a potion and nothing happened!”
“Magic isn’t instantaneous,” you tell him, wincing as you straighten your stance. “It’s also very complex. Most people can’t get it right on the first try.”
“You saying I’m stupid?”
Bewildered, you square your shoulders. “I offered to give you some tips and you shot me down!” you exclaim. “Look, dude, if you aren’t satisfied, come by the shop tomorrow and I’ll give you a full refund. You don’t have to fucking hit me!”
“That’s where you’re wrong!” the customer snaps. “See, because of you, the girl I like won’t fucking talk to me anymore. So I’m going to take my anger out on you.”
He seizes the front of your shirt and yanks you forward, but you resist. “How the fuck is that my—” you cut yourself off, realization dawning on you. “You tried to give her a lust potion, didn’t you?”
The customer doesn’t respond, teeth clenched. Anger takes hold and you grab his wrists for leverage, before sinking your knee into his gut. Not expecting the attack, he lets you go in surprise and you sink your fist into his jaw.
“You sack of shit!” you snap. “Using magic to try to force someone to sleep with you? Fuck a refund!”
He tries to take a swing, but you’re ready for it this time and duck out of the way, nailing him in the stomach with another punch. He’s coughing and wheezing now, hunched over in pain. You throw your whole body into the next hit, and he falls to the ground unconscious. Not knowing how long you have before he wakes up, you book it down the alleyway.
Home isn’t very far, only a few blocks, but by the time you come to a stop outside of your building, you’re out of breath. You’re smart enough to make sure he isn’t right behind you, before hurrying inside. That was such a stupid move on your part. You should have just let him pound on you until he was bored, and then it would have been over.
Now, there’s no telling what he’s going to do, especially since he knows where you work. You should probably lay low for a while. The adrenaline is fading, leaving you with a queasy stomach as you let yourself into your apartment. Even though you’re sure he hasn’t followed, you’re still jumpy as you rush through the door, slamming and leaning against it heavily.
Deep breath in, deep breath out...deep breath in... you tell yourself, shutting your eyes. It’s not working. Heart still racing, you’re trembling now, and you can feel the area around your cheek starting to swell. With a shaky sigh you push yourself off the door and make for the kitchen. Thankfully you have the ingredients to make a salve to help the bruising, which you’ll get to work on after you have something to eat.
Opening the refrigerator, you take stock of its contents, trying to think of what to make for dinner. After a moment, you deem you’re not hungry and swipe a can of soda off the top shelf. Pressing it to the swollen area, you stand up straight and shut the door, only to find you're no longer alone.
John Constantine is standing right where the door was and you jump about a foot in the air, letting out the loudest scream possible, which in turn makes him jump and scream.
“What are you hollerin’ about, mate?!” John snaps, hand over his heart as he removes the cigarette from his mouth.
“For fuck's sake!” you exclaim. “You can’t just sneak up on people like that! How did you even get in?”
John motions over his shoulder in the general direction of the living room. “You left the door unlocked,” he says. He suddenly notices your injuries and his face hardens with anger. “What happened?”
“Just a stupid dude-bro pissed off his potion didn’t work,” you say, batting John’s hands away as he leans in close to examine your cheek. “It’s fine, I took care of him...sort of.”
“Sort of?” John asks, not impressed. “Who’s this bloke? I’d like to pay him a visit.”
“John, that’s really not necessary,” you assure him, leaning back against the counter.
“‘Course it is!” John exclaims, flicking the cigarette into the sink. “Someone attacked you and I’m keen to return the bloody favor!”
You’ve never seen him this riled up. It’s actually fairly startling and you don’t know how to respond at first. The last thing you want is John going out and hurting the guy, because you know John and you know what he’s capable of. However, a small part of you can’t help but feel pleased at the attention.
“There’s really no need. Again, I took care of it. Knocked him out cold,” you say.
John is clearly still angry, bringing a fresh cigarette up to his lips. “What’s stoppin’ him from tracking you down?”
You don’t answer, and the both of you fall into silence, staring at each other while John lights up. It has been some time since you’ve seen him. Usually he stops by the shop if he needs something, but on the rare occasion he shows up after hours, he has been known to visit you at home. He doesn’t seem particularly stressed or tense, aside from his reaction to your attack, so you’re wondering if this is more of a social call.
“What are you doing here, John?” you ask in a soft voice.
John doesn’t answer right away. Shoving his hands in his pockets, his sucks on the cigarette as he takes a step toward you. It’s a deliberate and calculating move, one he’s done before. Your heart starts to race again and your body warms, the queasiness returning, this time due to nerves.
“Wanted to see my old mate,” he says. “Thought I could stay a couple of days. Been far too long.”
“It has,” you agree. Putting the soda on the counter, you turn back to John and cross your arms. “Why are you really here?”
John chuckles low in his throat, taking a deep drag before slowly exhaling. “Thought that one was fairly obvious, love,” he says.
You don’t miss the switch from ‘mate’ to ‘love’, and the intention is all there in those hooded eyes and that sly smirk. And though you have always been attracted to John, you’ve kept him at arm's length for many reasons. Chief among them being, you know how he is with people, and you also know what happens to the people he gets involved with. As much as it pains you, keeping things platonic is easier. Well, semi-platonic. You’re not going to stop the flirting.
“It is,” you say. “But I like hearing you say it.”
John’s smirk widens, and he gives you a calculating stare before saying, “I missed you.”
“That’s nice. I missed you too,” you say. “But that doesn’t mean I’m just going to let you stay here.” That’s a lie of course. Your dignity requires some semblance of protest.
“Ooo, you want me to beg, squire, is that it?” John asks, throwing his second cigarette into the sink. “I’ll get down on my knees an’ everything.”
“I’m sure it wouldn’t be the first time,” you tease.
John wags his eyebrows at you, stepping closer before dropping to his knees. You fight the urge to blush, clutching your elbows to keep from reaching for him. He looks good kneeling in front of you, and it wouldn’t take much effort or convincing to get him to follow through.
“Pleeease let me stay,” John begs dramatically. “I’ll make it worth your time. Promise.”
“Of that I have no doubt,” you tell him.
Suddenly, you feel light-headed, the intensity of your attack getting to you to the point where you have to rest back against the counter. John notices and is immediately on his feet again. “I think you need to lay down,” he says.
“Yeah, I bet you’d like me lying down,” you joke, but your voice trembles along with your body and it comes out weak.
John’s not flirting anymore. He sighs and shrugs out of his coat, draping it over a chair. “Come on, love,” he says, extending his hand to you. “Let’s get you in bed. You’re no good to me if you pass out in the kitchen.”
Snorting with amusement, you put your hand in John’s and allow him to pull you towards the bedroom. “You big ol’ sap,” you say. “Takin’ care of me and everything…John Constantine does care about people.”
“Hush now,” John tuts. “I have a reputation to protect. Can’t let you blab that I have feelings.”
“Heaven forbid,” you chuckle.
The bed looks incredibly inviting, but you are acutely aware that John is now in your bedroom, something that has been unofficially off limits in the past. He usually crashes on the couch, waking you the following morning with loud singing and the sounds of breakfast being made. Now, he seems too focused on you to comment on the development, and pulls back the rumpled sheets so you can slide under them.
“You’re shaking like mad,” he comments, brow furrowed in worry.
“I’ve never been punched before,” you admit. “He probably waited for me to close up so he could follow me.” Your breathing picks up at the realization and you start to breathe heavily.
“Hey, hey, hey, easy there, love,” John urges, kicking out of his shoes. Without asking for permission, he climbs in bed, reaching for you. “You’re going to hyperventilate.”
He’s wrong, because you’re already hyperventilating and the anxiety is too great for you to focus. John recognizes this immediately and pulls you against his chest.
“Love, you need to take a deep breath,” he instructs. “Breathe with me. Deep breath in…”
It’s a struggle, but you manage to do as he says, taking a deep and shaky inhale.
“Deep breath out.”
You let it out slowly, focus on the feeling of John’s chest rising and falling against your side. It’s comforting, and allows you to regulate your breathing. After several long moments of this, you start to feel yourself relax.
John’s arms are strong, and his body is warm. “How you feelin’, mate?” he asks.
“Better,” you sigh. Turning your head, you glance up at him. “You’re in my bed.”
“Damn right I am,” John says, snuggling in closer. “Though I’d always imagined it would be under more salacious circumstances.”
You roll your eyes, and have every intention of pushing him away, but you’re too warm and comfortable. “Me having a panic attack isn’t your idea of a good time?” you ask.
“Not in particular,” John says.
There’s a moment of silence, while John shifts around to get comfortable. As he does, you think about what you want to say to him, because you feel like you have to say something. You’re not panicking anymore, and yet he’s still holding you. As wonderful as this is, it’s getting dangerously close to intimate and you made a promise to yourself never to let that happen with Constantine. You carefully shift so there’s some distance between your bodies.
“John, what are we doing?” you ask.
“I could ask you the same question,” John retorts. “This is the closest we’ve been in years. Which is a shame since I always thought we had good chemistry.”
“We’re not doing anything,” you say.
“I know,” John says. “And I always wondered why.”
You are actively avoiding looking at him now, eyes trained on the ceiling. John sits up, and you think he’s going to leave, but he leans over you, forcing you to meet his eye. “Why has nothing ever happened between you and me?”
So he’s noticed. “Well this is awkward,” you say, shifting under his scrutiny.
John gives you a pointed look. “Did you really think I didn’t notice?” he asks.
“I kind of hoped,” you admit. “But yeah, I’ve liked your for ages.”
“Glad to know that it’s not all in me head,” John says.
You glare at him. “You mean you didn’t know for sure that I had feelings for you?” you accuse.
John grins, shrugging. “I suspected,” he says. “But now that you just told me you do, what’s the harm in seeing where this thing goes?”
“You don’t want me to answer that.”
John’s smile fades and his mouth forms a tight line as he purses his lips. He pulls away, and you can’t help but sit up, the sudden tension in the room making it too difficult to stay comfortable anymore. You’re not sure what he’s going to say next, though you wouldn’t be surprised if he brushes it off with a laugh and a wisecrack. It is John after all. The longer the silence stretches however, you realize that’s not going to happen this time.
“Well then,” John says. “No matter. Don’t need to be seriously involved to partake in some flirting and possible hand action.”
Okay, maybe it will.
You snort and shake your head, shutting your eyes briefly. “John, it’s not that I don’t—” you begin.
He cuts you off. “No need to explain, mate,” he assures you, patting your knee. “This life ain’t cut out for everyone. I get it.”
It’s hurting him to play it cool. You can see it in the smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. His hand is warm on your knee, and you take it between your own without hesitation.
“It’s not the lifestyle, John,” you say. “I’m in the same business, remember? It’s…” You pause, trying to find the right words without insulting him. “…I don’t want to just be a warm body for you when you need comfort, and I don’t want to force a relationship on you if you’re not interested in one. When I’m with someone, I’m with that one person.”
“And you don’t think I can be that way?” John asks.
You raise your eyebrows and it’s your turn to give him a pointed look. “Do you want me to pull the receipts, because trust me, I have them. I’ve been friends with you for long enough.”
At this John chuckles and concedes with a nod. “You got me there, love,” he says. “Look, I’m not the type of bloke to make promises. I’m a shite boyfriend, always have been. But I’m willin’ to at least try with you, ‘cause you’re bloody worth it.”
For a moment you forget how to breathe and your heart skips a beat. Dumbfounded, you stare at John, trying to think of a clever retort or rebuttable, but he sounds so genuine and sincere, you can’t think of one. Although, you’ve heard him sound sincere before, right before he revealed to you he was lying through his teeth.
“John,” you sigh, trying to pull your hands away. “If this is another con—”
John cups your cheek, drawing you closer so his lips brush yours, making you instantly forget the rest of your sentence. “It’s not,” he says. “I wouldn’t. Besides, don’t really have a reason to con you.”
He has a point. You can’t help but lean into his touch, the proximity of his mouth almost too much to handle. He hasn’t closed the distance between you yet, which you know is because he’s leaving the choice up to you. It’s never been this hard to tell yourself ‘no’. Then again, John has never been this close before, physically or emotionally.
Letting out a soft whimper, you kiss him firmly, throwing caution into the wind. John grunts with excitement, hand sliding to cup the back of your neck and keep you in place, as if he’s afraid you’re going to break away any second. It’s better than you could have ever imagined it to be. He tastes of Silk Cuts and a hint of whiskey, which leads you to believe he had a shot of liquid courage before finding his way to your apartment. Even though you don’t smoke, you find yourself not caring, mainly because it serves as a reminder exactly who you’re kissing.
Sliding your arms around him, you tug him closer, wanting to deepen the kiss as much as possible. John is all too happy to oblige, pressing against you earnestly as his thumb strokes your cheek. With a content sigh, you open your mouth, allowing his tongue to slip inside and explore. John takes full advantage, flicking across teeth, stroking the roof of your mouth, before ultimately finding your own tongue. It’s all so overwhelming you find yourself getting lightheaded again.
Reluctantly, you draw back, sucking in great gulps of air. John’s panting as well, eyes shining as he stares at you with a smirk. “Now doesn’t that feel much better?” he teases.
You let out a breathless laugh, nodding. “That was pretty great,” you admit. “This has been the strangest day ever.”
John strokes your cheek. The swelling is already going down, but you know it’s starting to bruise. “If you want me to bugger off, I won’t be offended,” he says. “Whatever you need, I’m here for.”
What do you need? For one thing, now that John is here you can’t stand the thought of being alone tonight. Your body is still twitchy and on edge, and there’s a strange energy running through you that you desperately want to channel into something. Not to mention, that kiss made you riled up in a completely different way, and the conflict of emotions is likely to drive you insane if you don’t do something about it. Mind made up, you grab the hem of your t-shirt and pull it up and off, tossing it to the side. John regards you curiously, eyebrow quirked.
“You should stay,” you tell him.
You’re not expecting him to lung forward, so it takes you by surprise to find yourself being kissed again, much rougher and needier than previously. John practically throws his body against you, and you find yourself pinned beneath him. That glorious mouth of his moves with yours hungrily, his teeth nipping at your bottom lip in his excitement. His hands are roaming your body, touching every bit he can reach.
Likewise, you’re just as eager. You find yourself fumbling to undo his tie, yanking it off impatiently and chucking it over his shoulder. Next you struggle to unbutton his shirt, your position being too awkward to do it properly. John finally takes notice of your struggle and sits up, straddling your hips as he moves to finish what you started. Propped up on your elbows, you watch, wanting the offending garment out of the way as soon as possible. Once he shrugs out of it, you grab for him, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him back down to you.
Forcing your tongue past his lips, it’s your turn to explore his mouth. John grunts, and you can feel yourself starting to swell in your jeans. He must feel it too because he grinds down against it, making your hips buck up instinctively.
“Tell Johnny how you want it,” John purrs between kisses, still rutting with you.
“I want you inside of me,” you gasp, arching your back. John takes the opportunity to feast on your throat, placing kisses up and to your ear.
When he speaks again, it’s in your ear, breathless and tantalizing. “I think you should beg a little,” he pants, tonguing the shell. “Made me beg earlier, seems only fair.”
You push on John’s shoulders lightly, forcing him back so you can look him in the eye. “I don’t want to just forget about today,” you tell him. “I’ve wanted you for a long time, John, and I don’t want to push you away anymore. I need all of you. Right here. Right now.”
Whatever John was expecting, you can tell it wasn’t that. He was poised to let you take advantage of him, to use him for your own selfish reasons. You can tell by the way his eyes soften and a small smile creeps across his face, that he’s pleasantly surprised by the turn of events and when he kisses you this time, it’s more thorough and excited.
“And you’ll have me, love,” he says, drawing back.
You watch him make quick work of the button on your jeans, while you kick out of your shoes. Lifting your hips, you let John drag your pants down and off. Next, he carefully removes your socks, and they too join the heap of clothes on the floor. This leaves you in only your boxers, which are noticeably tented.
Before you have a chance to feel self conscious, John gets off the bed and hurriedly undoes his own trousers, shoving both them and his underwear off in one go. He’s semi-hard, and the mere sight of him sends a wave of heat over you, though you’re still trembling from earlier. With shaking hands, you hook your thumbs in the waistband of your boxers and push them down. John kneels on the bed, taking over and maneuvering them off your legs, before dropping them to the side.
You’re both naked now, and John eyes you with appreciation, crawling closer. Dipping his head, he places wet kisses up your thigh, over your hip, and just when you think he’s going to put his mouth on you, he bypasses your erection and kisses your stomach. You grab for him, tugging him so your bodies line up. He follows through with the motion, laying on top of you. His skin is practically scalding, and you can’t help but moan.
John shudders. “Bloody hell, mate, you’re freezing!” he exclaims, recoiling slightly. “Hold on.” He rolls over next to you, grabbing the comforter and draping it over you both. After, he pulls you to him again, running his hands up and down your arms.
“Kiss me,” you order. “I’ll warm up faster.”
John smirks and doesn’t hesitate, drawing you to his chest as he kisses you deeply. You can feel the shakes subsiding. His hands are everywhere, stroking your back and then your hip. Against your stomach, his erection is quickly swelling, but before you can sneak your hand down, John beats you to it. He takes hold of himself and shifts, lining his cock along yours before he thrusts forward. You moan loudly, burying your face in his neck as you thrust back. John grabs your ass, thrusting harder and you meet him with a jerk of your hips. Seeking his mouth, you shove your tongue past his lips while tangling your hand in his hair. The kiss doesn’t last, because then John is moving down the bed, pausing at your chest to suck briefly at your nipple, before disappearing under the blanket.
Your cock throbs as the realization as John nuzzles your navel, his hand sliding down to your thigh and giving it a rough squeeze, just as he had done with your ass. A wet tongue suddenly glides along your length and you grab for John’s shoulders, trying to find anything to steady yourself. He’s taking his time, teasing you with occasional licks before his hand wraps around your base.
Lips place feather light kisses on the tip, and that wonderful tongue snakes out again lap at you. With an excited moan, you can’t help but shove yourself into John’s mouth. He chuckles and stops wasting time, sliding you in as far as he can, before withdrawing almost all the way. Oh my god, the wet suction is damn near heavenly, and he sets a steady pace that has you hardening even more.
Feeling yourself continually glide along John’s tongue will forever be burned into your memories. After all this time wondering, hearing stories of his conquests, to actually be in this position yourself is overwhelming. You lose yourself in the feeling, hips rolling forward each time John takes you back in, and when he suddenly pulls off to catch his breath, you can’t help but whine in disappointment. The blanket is shoved away and you can see John again, cheeks red, forehead already beaded with sweat, and bright eyes hooded with lust.
“Gotta say, love,” he says, giving your cock a few rough jerks. “Those noises you’re making are absolutely filthy. I want to hear more.”
“Keep that up and you definitely will,” you say, taken aback by how breathless you sound. It’s not like you’ve even done much; you can’t believe you’re this worked up over a bit of oral. The shakes have finally receded, and you’re left weak and unbelievably turned on.
John hums with appreciation, licking your erection without warning and making you gasp in delight. He’s grinning up at you now, throwing you a wink before taking you all in again. After that, there’s no preamble or teasing. He moves his mouth back and forth, taking almost your entire shaft each time. Your nails dig into his shoulders as you hold on for dear life, unable to form a coherent thought anymore. When he adds suction, you switch to gripping his hair, taking over his movements so you can set your own pace. John’s all too happy to oblige, his hands moving to grab your thighs again as he lets you practically abuse his mouth. Time starts to melt away, and you lose yourself for a few seconds, before a tiny voice in the back of your mind reminds you John needs to breathe at some point.
When he pulls off, John gasps for air, the line of spit and precome between his mouth and your cock broken when he swipes at his lips with his tongue. You tug on his hair and he shifts back up the bed, allowing you to kiss him deeply. He no longer tastes of Silk Cuts, but of you instead and it awakens something primal. It’s almost like you’ve claimed him in some way, and you desperately want him to claim you.
“My turn,” you purr, pushing John onto his back.
He goes with the motion, smirking as he tucks his hands behind his head. “By all means, mate, have at it,” he says.
Chuckling at his eager acceptance, you move down his body quicker than he had, not wanting to waste time anymore. He’s just as hard as you were, and it sends a perverse thrill through you knowing that you’re the one turning him on. You’ve seen John naked before, as he greatly enjoys sleeping in the nude, so you’ve been privy to the promise land many a times. It’s different now that he’s in your bed, laying on his back, with his cock eagerly twitching as you wrap your hand around him.
You suck him right down to the base, and John jerks in surprise, head thrown back as he moans. “Bloody hell!” he exclaims. “Warn a bloke before you…ooooohhhhh…”
Your pacing is much more rough than his was, your hand stroking what doesn’t fit into your mouth. Within seconds you reduce John to a shuddering, twitching mass, his hands gripping the bedsheets and twisting each time the head of his cock bumps the back of your throat. The heady taste and scent of him invades your senses, and you swallow around his girth in an effort to catch the beads of precome leaking from the tip.
John is swearing now, and those hands move from the bed to your hair, not directing your movements as you did, but merely holding on as a way to ground himself. You chance a look up and it’s the mostly beautifully erotic sight you’ve ever seen. His cheeks are redder than before, the flush creeping down his pale neck and to his chest, and his eyes are closed as he throws his head back with another moan. Pulling off abruptly, you don’t want things to be over before they’ve really begun, and by how hard he is, you can tell he would have finished if you kept that up. Panting, you crawl up to lean over him, giving him a lopsided grin.
“Enjoying yourself?” you tease.
John’s eyes drag open and he smiles up at you, pupils blown so wide you can barely see the color around them. He grabs you and rolls you onto your back, perching himself atop your chest once more. “Now, I recall there was talk of me being inside you,” he pants, grinding down.
His cock is red and still leaking precome, this time onto your chest as he ruts against you. “Condoms and lube are in the drawer,” you say, motioning to the nightstand. “Help yourself.”
John reaches over to grab the necessary supplies, while you take a moment to catch your breath. You can feel the nerves returning, and you try to will them away, not wanting anything to spoil the moment. John sits back, putting the small bottle and condom next to you before stretching his body along yours.
“C’mere,” he purrs, leaning in for a kiss.
You follow through, sighing contently at the now familiar press of lips and slip of the tongue. His warmth sends those pesky shakes away and you fall into his kisses with determination and excitement. John draws back and brings his fingers to your lips, tracing the bottom one briefly. You smile before taking in two of his fingers, wetting them thoroughly as John watches, transfixed.
“Bloody glorious sight you make, love,” he coos, kissing his way down your cheek to find your neck.
As you continue to suck on his fingers, he does the same to your throat, finding the sensitive spot just below your ear. You squirm when he does, and he sucks on it once more so you’ll do it again. You can feel his smirk now, and when he draws away his wet fingers, he leans up to kiss you. Kissing John is like diving headfirst into the deep end. At first you’re terrified, afraid of getting hurt, but then there’s a rush of adrenaline and you want to keep going, to swim deeper until your lungs feel like they’re going to burst and you are forced to come up for air.
You feel his fingers stroke between your cheeks and you relax, spreading your legs wider for him. The tips of his fingers brush your hole a few times, spreading the spit around in a lazy circle, while his tongue does the same against yours. At the first press of one finger, you don’t even flinch, so relaxed and ready for him that he’s able to slide in up to the first knuckle with barely any resistance.
John moans at this. “So fuckin’ ready for this, mate,” he practically whispers. “Gonna bugger you into this mattress.”
“Yesss…” you hiss as he pushes in further, clenching a little at the first sign of resistance.
John pauses, patiently waiting for you to relax yourself before he continues. He starts to work you open with gentle strokes of his finger. The reality of the situation threatens to take hold, but you don’t let it, determined to let things play out. It’s easy now to push those insecurities and fears aside, especially when John’s second finger joins the first, and he crooks them just the right way.
The second he brushes your prostate, you moan, legs falling open as wide as you can. Your cock is trapped against John’s stomach, and you thrust up to try to relieve some of the pressure, before falling back down onto John’s fingers. The spit is starting to dry however, and John reluctantly withdraws to grab the lube. When he does, you maneuver yourself out from under him, turning onto your stomach. You shove a pillow under your hips and make yourself comfortable, while John uncaps the lube and pours a generous amount in his hand.
The next time he looks at you, he swears. “Fuck, love,” he says. “You should see how you look right now.”
You can feel your cheeks flush and you bury your face in your arms. “John, please,” you beg. “Keep going. I want you inside me.”
John hums with appreciation, letting the lube drip from his hand and onto your loosened pucker. He’s warmed it first, and you suck in a breath as it slides between your cheeks. This time when John strokes you, it’s wetter and his two fingers slide in almost all the way. Shuddering, you relax against the bed, letting John prep you. Your body is radiating heat now, muscles loosening with each push of those sinful digits. He finds your prostate after a few seconds and you push back against his hand with a loud moan.
A third finger worms its way in next to the other two, and you barely feel the burn, too blissed out to let it get to you. John’s body lines along your back, and wet kisses are placed between your shoulder blades as John thrusts his finger deep inside. You cry out, the pressure against your prostate making your cock jerk with excitement.
John’s breath is in your ear now, panting as his cock nudges your lower back. “Can’t wait to be buried in you,” he growls, pumping his fingers in and out now. “You’re so bloody tight.”
“John,” you moan, practically humping the pillow. “I’m prepped. Fuck me already!”
“Ohhh, getting impatient are we?” John teases, letting his fingers slide out so only the tips remain. You whine and try to thrust yourself onto them, but he doesn’t let you.
“Yes!” you grunt. “Please, John!”
His cock jerks at the plea and you can’t help but press up against his flesh, thrilled by the weight of it. John grunts in response, head falling to your shoulder briefly before he draws away.
“How can I deny such a lovely request?” he purrs, picking up the condom.
Seductively, you arch your back, presenting yourself to him purely to hear in him inhale sharply at the sight. You’ve never been more ready for anything in your life. Any fear or nerves has been replaced with lustful eagerness, your cock smearing precome on the pillow underneath your hips.
John rolls the rubber on, stroking himself a few times as his eyes take you in. He picks up the lube, coating his cock while he continues to stroke himself. You feel his fingers return to your loose hole, spreading the remaining lube around it before pushing himself onto his knees. The blunt end of his cock presses forward and you remind yourself to relax as he slowly pushes in.
Even with the prep it’s a bit of a stretch, and you tense immediately. John pauses, leaning down to nuzzle your hair. The action makes you let out a shaky exhale and when you do, you feel him slide in further. There’s no burn, only the slow stretch as John carefully works himself into you with small thrusts of his hips. It’s overwhelming and you twist the sheets instinctively, until a comforting hand falls over yours, and you twine your fingers together, giving his an appreciative squeeze.
With a final push, John bottoms out and the two of you let out twin moans. You realize that John is shaking as well when he leans his weight on you, withdrawing slightly before he thrusts back in. Fuck you’re so full! With each shallow thrust, a dirty thrill shoots through you, wishing John would go faster, take you harder. It’s not that you don’t appreciate him taking his time, as he clearly doesn’t want to hurt you, but after the day you had, you don’t want to go slow the entire time.
“More,” you whisper.
John groans, thrusting deeper and you echo his groan. Letting go of his hand, you reach back, feeling around for his hair so you can tug his face into your neck. John gets the hint, nipping and sucking on your throat. The pace is still slow, but as each thrust loosens you up to him, his control starts to slip and he begins to fuck you harder.
Pleasure spikes through your body like electricity, and you meet John’s thrusts every time, pushing yourself up onto your hands and knees. John follows through without missing a beat, a hands seizing your hips. The room is filled with heavy breathing and skin slapping skin, as John finally gives up any shred of gentleness and starts fucking you like he really wants: brutal, deep, and fast.
“ Fuckin’ hell ,” he swears. “Bloody fantastic, mate!”
You moan, pushing back against him harder, wishing you had a way to take over. Brain barely able to form a coherent thought, you pull yourself up by the headboard, using it for the leverage that you need. John wraps an arm around your chest, hand coming up to clutch your throat as he suddenly pins you in place.
“Nice try,” he tuts, maintaining control. “You wanted me to fuck you, and I am. You’re mine now, love.”
Powerless to do anything, you writhe with John, having no choice but to stay right where you are as he continues to fuck you. It’s unclear how long you move together, and even though your knees and muscles ache, you don’t want him to stop. You reach back to grab his ass and he grunts into your ear, shifting around for a moment before…
Stars cloud your vision as he finds that spot he was teasing earlier, and when you shout, he grins, tonguing your ear. Every thrust is directed at that angle, and each time he manages to brush just the right spot, your cock leaks. John’s hand reaches around to grasp you firmly and you almost lose it right there.
He’s passed the point of teasing now, and as his breathing hitches you know he’s just as close as you are. When you come, you can feel it everywhere. Your entire body convulses, your release erupting from between John’s fingers as he frantically jerks you off, until you’re too spent and sensitive to keep going. You bat his hand away and he relents, letting you fall onto the bed even while he keeps pumping into you.
A few seconds later, he lets out a guttural moan and your name, fucking through his orgasm until he too is spent and he collapses on top of your back. Panting and sweating, the both of you lay that way for some time, trying to catch your breath and wrap your head around what just happened. Eventually, John rolls off of you, causing you to wince when he withdraws. You’re vaguely aware that the pillow beneath you is sticky, however you can’t seem to find it in your heart to care, and before you can get up to clean yourself, you nod off to sleep.
You wake abruptly later, in the same exact position. Wrinkling your nose in disgust, you sit up and peel the pillow off your stomach, chucking it onto the floor. Glancing to your side at John, your heart sinks when you find that side of the bed empty. Part of you was worried this would happen, and you start to curse yourself for thinking John would be any different with you than he is with others.
You climb out of bed on shaky legs, breathing a sigh of relief when you see his clothes are still strewn across the floor. So it is different this time. He stayed, and you’re unable to stop the large smile from spreading across your face. The sound of the toilet flushing makes you ease yourself back into bed. John looks calm when he leaves the bathroom, and he smirks.
“Look who’s awake,” he says, walking over to you. “Didn’t mean to fuck you until you blacked out.”
You chuckle, running your hand through your disheveled hair. “Yeah, I do that sometimes,” you say. “Especially when everything is so intense.”
John’s smirk widens and he climbs onto the bed, crawling towards you. “Intense, ey?” he asks, leaning in close. “That a good thing or a bad thing?”
“Good,” you assure him, slipping a hand into his hair. “Very good.”
You pull him into a kiss and he follows through, still smirking. When he withdraws, he nuzzles your cheek. “Took care of your little problem,” he says. “You don’t have to worry about that bloke anymore.”
“What did you do?” you ask.
“Never you mind,” John says. “Made some calls, and he’s won’t be stopping by your shop any time soon.”
You feel like you should question him further, but you’re not about to look a gift horse in the mouth. “Thanks,” you say.
“You’re welcome,” John says. “Also, we had sex and it looks like the world hasn’t ended. Imagine that.”
“Give it time,” you joke.
John laughs and falls to the bed, pulling you with him so you’re facing each other in a tight embrace. “I meant what I said earlier,” he tells you. “I’m here for whatever you need.”
“ You , John,” you say. “I just need you .”
John’s smirk softens into a small smile and he leans forward. “I’m all yours then,” he says, and steals another kiss.