#i just want them to watch black friday 😔 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

adelaidedrubman · 3 years

Note

❛ your thighs make me want to sin. ❜ + the ship of your choice 😏

lesya babe i tried real hard to write this for anyone but jessie and john but it spoke to them too much and i was powerless 😔 sorry, thank you for sending. a little pre reaping au for they.

word count: 7k (we did the full Wildfire speedrun on this one fellas!!!!)

pairing: deputy jestiny x john seed

warnings: NSFW, religious blasphemy, alcohol, two absolute fucking idiots walk into a bar and get horny for theological discussions one of them won't admit they're actually having.

“Who’s that fucking guy?”

It would be through the unmatched power of denial and the remarkable elasticity of human memory Jestiny would later convince herself with complete earnestness that she asked the bartender the question entirely with disgusted incredulity, because she wanted to know what asshole had the audacity to wear a tailored silk shirt and designer shades into a backwater dive bar. And that was certainly true in its own right, she’d internally balked at the man’s dress, and his slicked back hair, and the overly showy smile he stepped into the room with.

But what she would repress just seconds later, was that she also asked with a shadow of interest that wasn’t morbid curiosity, with the subconscious knowledge that with the plump lips that curved into that unsettling smile, and the sharp jawline sculpted behind well groomed beard, and those bright blue eyes she tried to avoid catching, and the toned, strong arms and hands covered in black ink visible from the rolled up sleeves of his ridiculous, ostentatious shirt, he was in fact the most attractive, unique looking person she'd seen walk into the bar all evening.

And maybe, perhaps, that was of interest to her in its own right. Maybe, given that she was stuck there alone after having finally been convinced following weeks of prodding from her coworkers to meet them for a friendly after work drink, and even bothering to throw on a dress and full makeup for the occasion — only for her fellow deputies to make a transparent excuse to leave together twenty minutes in, stranding her at the bar boredly nursing that same first drink, no other real companions to socialize with but not quite ready to leave, entertaining herself with people watching and making stray remarks to the bartender.

So maybe, sitting there lonely and dressed up and having not really been acquainted with anyone since she arrived in town, she had other interests in the man right from the get go, maybe. But that would be buried deep, lost to the sands of time as soon as the bartender answered the question.

“John Seed,” Mary May responded, contempt obvious in her voice. “The Project at Eden’s Gate’s hotshot lawyer. Comes in here every fucking Friday night to hand out a bunch of pamphlets filled with quotes from his brother’s delusional holy book and info about their little services. Stays here all night talking people’s ears off and running off good customers without buying so much as a bowl of peanuts. Asks me for a free glass of water sometimes too, the little prick.”

“Jesus Christ,” Jestiny mumbled, recalling the bits of chatter she’d heard about ‘The Project’ at the precinct. Great, so he was a religious creep. “Every fuckin’ Friday, huh? Can you just throw the guy out? I’m not technically on duty, but I don’t mind making an exception.”

The blonde huffed in some mix of amusement and annoyance. “Thanks, but I’ve tried that. For that he’s got a second stack of ‘know your rights’ pamphlets full of legalese about his ‘First Amendment right to free speech’ in a ‘traditional public forum’” she explained with sarcastic air quotes. “Think he had those made up himself, too, but still. Nothing we can do about it.”

“First Amendment rights?” Jestiny questioned disbelievingly with a toss back of her head to quickly glance at the man leaning over a table of bored looking customers, speaking emphatically to them as he placed a pamphlet in front of each person. “In a private business? Does that even hold up?”

“You got ten thousand dollars laying around to pay the retainer for the nearest constitutional law attorney to find out?”

“Point taken,” the redhead responded before taking a sip of her beer. “I take it he makes a point of bothering everyone ‘round here?”

“Probably bad for business for me to give it away, but you got it,” the bartender replied defeatedly. “Just let him talk for a while, stay neutral and don’t give him anything to go off, take his stupid pamphlet, and it’ll be over quick enough. Or go ahead and pay for your drink now if you think you might want to make a speedy exit, just in case.”

“No way,” Jessie responded with a firm shake of her head. “I’m not letting some Jesus freak run me out of the only bar in town the second I get here.”

Mary May gave an appreciative nod at that, going back to wiping down the countertop, eyes flicking up to look over Jestiny’s shoulder every so often to presumably check the man’s position.

And Jessie herself stiffened her back to tensely resist the urge to turn around again to join in tracking where the man moved, felt an itching pressure build there at the prospect of his predatory gliding along the room to search for new potential recruits. Her neck seemed to burn in warning just before she actually saw him in her periphery, willing herself to keep facing forward as he slid onto the stool next to her, to resist the impulse to retract her arms in closer to her body as he rested his on the bar beside her.

“Miss Fairgrave!” He exclaimed in a smooth, deep voice rising excitedly with false familiarity, as if trying to fool her into thinking he and the bartender were something like old friends. “I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure of meeting your new customer here,” he continued with a turn of his head towards Jestiny, which she did not return, waiting to watch the blonde for guidance.

“Interesting,” Mary May responded curtly, seeming to follow her own advice to keep the conversation minimal.

“Would you mind introducing us?” He pressed, still maintaining false subtlety.

“I’m a little busy,” the blonde replied, taking an already spotless beer mug down from its display to run a soapy dishrag along.

He gave an exaggerated sigh heavy with contrived woundedness, sinking down a little into the elbows rested on the bar and inching imperceptibly closer to his target. “I’ll do the honors myself then. John Seed. And you are?”

“As I was just saying, Mary May,” the redhead began, ignoring the outstretched hand now intruding into her personal sphere to lock her glare on the rows of liquor behind the woman she addressed, “Before we were so rudely interrupted, I am not particularly interested in listening to any slimy snake oil salesmen trying to sell me religion tonight, whether it’s somethin’ new, the same old shit, or anything in between.” She took a sip of her beer. “And if there were to happen to be any annoying ass patrons around so inclined as to try, it would behoove them to move the fuck on, because I do not intend to respond.”

“That would be unfortunate, indeed, if there were to be anyone so cynically self interested,” the man responded immediately, lowering his hand to rest back atop his stack of leaflets. “Luckily, I for one am not here to sell anyone anything, but to offer a chance to any soul willing to embrace a new idea, as scary as it might be — the opportunity for their wildest dreams to come true.”

“Mary May,” the blonde ignored the calls of her name from the redhead just as effectively as she did those from the man beside her, “Have I ever mentioned to you that my wildest dream in life is to be left the fuck alone while I drink?”

She got no response from the bartender from that, but she heard a smooth chuckle to her left, and couldn’t help but wonder if its deep rumble was genuine.

“I think it’s also unfortunate when people are so intolerant of new ideas, so closed minded they can’t have a simple discussion with a friendly person trying to help them.”

Jestiny let her lip curl a little in disgust at that, pointedly assuring she did so on the right side of her face, so that the left side shown to the man still appeared unreactive. “Because religion is such a fuckin’ famously tolerant institution,” she grumbled. “Wouldn’t ya say, Mary May?” She tacked on, barely remembering to maintain the pretense she wasn’t speaking directly to the man.

Mary May shrugged and pulled down another glass to clean.

“We’ve all had negative experiences with the atrocities the wicked and misguided have committed in the name of religion, but that is no reason to continue denying ourselves salvation.” The man’s honeyed voice seemed to grow a little more grainy with irritation, increased breathiness and harsher clicks of his teeth just barely perceptible. The redhead saw from the corner of her eye that he now slid one of his pamphlets along the bar to rest at her side. “Perhaps, if you bothered to actually learn something about the group you’re condemning, you wouldn’t shortsightedly lump them in with your preconceived notions.”

Jessie raised her glass back to her lips to take another drink of her beer, sitting it back down a little to her left, directly atop the pamphlet. “Have I mentioned that I hate the new coasters, Mary May?” She called out. “Flimsy, useless, and frankly unappealing.”

She’d hoped she’d hear his voice grow coarse with anger again at that, but instead she received another amused chuckle, the man seeming to recover to his previous entertained smugness. “I will truly hold out hope you will eventually find a path to us, come to see the appeal of being freed from the burdens of your sin.”

“And that I think sin is a dumbass concept made up to control people?” She asked, taking a larger gulp of her beer and slamming the now empty glass down on the table. “And anyone would be wasting their fuckin’ time, energy, and paper supplies tryin’ to get me to think otherwise,” she spat out while ripping the pamphlet in two then crumpling it up to throw into her empty glass, all while still refusing to turn to look at the man she spoke to.

“Some of us are quite willing to continue to pour our resources into harvesting souls, and have the mental, physical, and spiritual stamina for such a task,” he retorted, and Jestiny began to seriously regret not paying for her beer and leaving like the bartender had originally suggested. “I do believe with all my heart and soul that you in particular will someday come to see our purpose, and say yes to the life we’re offering,” he hummed, pausing a moment. “Miss Fairgrave, could you lend me a pen for a moment?”

“Nuh uh,” the blonde finally looked up from polishing her glass to respond, “Constitution may say I have to let you stay in here harassing my customers without buying anything, but it sure as hell doesn’t say I have to give you a pen for it,” she said firmly. “You want a pen, you buy something for once and I’ll give you one for signing the receipt like everyone else.”

Another exaggerated sigh of disappointment from the man. “Very well, a small indulgence for the greater good. I’ll take a glass of McHelen’s, single malt, fifteen year, neat,” he said a little too quickly, only pausing before tacking on, “For the lady, of course, who still hasn’t given me her name.”

She could feel the pressure of scrutinizing blue eyes even as she kept her own locked on the movements of the bartender begrudgingly pouring the whiskey in front of her, sitting it down almost perfectly halfway between them. Jessie resisted the temptation to let her eyes trail down to see the cost of the drink as the man signed the receipt, then kept the pen in his hand to scrawl something on the top pamphlet in his stack before sitting it back down on the bar.

“Thank you for your time, ladies,” he said as he finally stood to make his exit, sliding the pamphlet he’d written on to rest in front of the redhead, leaning in close as he moved his hand along the bar, close enough Jessie could smell the scent of his cologne overtake that of whiskey that had been filling her nose as he hovered over her, smoky spice pushed out by the pungent aroma of sandalwood and leather, and she could feel the warmth of his breath just as powerfully as he whispered in her ear.

“Your thighs make me want to sin,” he breathed against her, soft enough for her to question if she’d even heard it. And by the time she was able to feel the first heavy thud of heart against her ribcage as it beat faster in response, he was gone, freeing her from the oppressive weight of his scent and heat just as quickly as he surrounded her with it.

She let a few quick blinks of her eyes focus her senses back to reality, instantly looking down to the leaflet he’d placed in front of her to see he’d written in neat print a number atop its glossy cross logo. 406-555-8528.

She crumpled it in her fist same as the first, but this time left it clutched there instead of tossing it aside, and reached her left fist for the glass still on the counter to knock back the amber liquid and feel its soothing sting down her throat before she jumped up and turned towards the door in a fury.

“Hey!” She yelled at the still swinging door as she sped towards it.

“Jessie, you still need to pay for your —” she registered a shout somewhere in the back of her mind, letting it fade as the cool night air touched her still burning skin as she stormed through the door.

“Hey!” She yelled again to get the attention of the man leisurely making his way into the alleyway beside the bar, stopping in front of what was presumably the car he’d driven there.

“Hey!” She called a final time as she came to a halt just in front of his car, and he finally turned around. “Do you think — Do you think that’s a normal fucking thing to say to a woman?!” She demanded in a shout, shaking the fist that still held his pamphlet as she did.

“Is that your fucking — your idea of a go-to pick up line?! Some weird shit about sin?!” She screamed. “'Your thighs make me want to sin,'” she repeated mockingly, “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?!” She let the question ring through the night air as she finally let her bunched up fists rest at her sides, taking a deep breath as she glared at the man.

“It means,” he responded in calm and measured tone, taking a slow step towards her, making her subconsciously back up towards the siding of the bar in response, “Your thighs look temptingly good in that dress.”

“So what kinda fuckin’ move is that?” She barked back, “Saying that and leaving your number? What’s your system, ask someone out for coffee letting ‘em think they might get laid, then bait and switch and ask ‘em to get matching purity rings after so you can rope ‘em into your little church club instead?”

He laughed, fuller and more genuine than the first times she’d heard him chuckle, as he continued to move closer to her. “Noteworthy idea, but no. I was being quite sincere.”

“Well what did you fucking mean by it?” She pressed, volume decreasing a little as she stepped back again, feeling her back touch the wall. “‘Your thighs make me want to sin’?”

“I meant,” he said pointedly, taking a final step closer until he was directly in front of her, “That I think your thighs would look quite lovely wrapped around my waist, or my neck, or wherever on me you’d like to rest them. As simple as that,” he responded with a crooked smile matching half lidded eyes.

“You’d really do that?” She asked, tilting her chin up to even their heights best she could as he stood over her, slightly taller. “How do I know you’re not fucking with me?”

He let out an amused hum as he rested a hand experimentally at the top of her leg, just where her skirt started. He looked down as he brushed there a moment, then lifted his stare back towards her face, smiling at her with twinkling blue eyes briefly before letting them close and leaning forward to press their lips together.

She reached a hand up to hold the side of his neck in response, feeling tendons flex as he opened his jaw to deepen the kiss, wondering in the back of her mind what it would be like to have her leg resting against it instead. She felt his grip on her thigh tense, bunching up her skirt and sending a shiver towards her center as he moaned into her mouth, just before retracting his tongue into his own and pulling back.

He smacked his lips and rolled his jaw a bit, seeming to savor her taste. “You drank the whiskey,” he hummed, clicking his tongue against his teeth.

“No shit,” she grumbled, lowering her hand, feeling she should remove it entirely but instead resting it atop his collarbone. “I don’t go passing on good whiskey or good head, regardless of who it's from,” she said dryly.

“If you think you’re actually capable of accomplishing the latter,” she added, playing a little at the dip of his collarbone.

“Oh, I guarantee it will be better than the whiskey,” he rumbled into her ear, those hot heavy breaths that first made her heart race. “And much more rare to come by.”

“And aged as long too?” She asked with a mocking snort. “I would guess you’d be pretty out of practice, Bible boy.”

“Not as much as you might think,” he replied with lips curling against her ear. “But I suppose there’s only one way for you to find out.”

“And how do I know it won’t be a bait and switch?” she grumbled, trying to lean slightly away from his touch. “That I won’t come over for some head and you’re sitting there with a Bible study group instead?”

He gave that deep, velvety laugh again, and she felt it hum against her own chest this time from their closeness, just as he rubbed a thumb softly along her leg one last time before stepping back a small distance, her arm stretching instinctively to keep its place resting at his chest as he did.

“Take off your panties.”

“Huh?”

“Take off your panties,” he repeated, letting his eyes fall along the hem of her skirt expectantly.

“Right here?” She asked, turning her head in the direction of the bar’s entrance, where the neon sign still glowed, close enough to cast multicolor lights on them even from their position pressed against the shadows of the wall.

“You want me to prove myself,” he said with another small hum of laughter. “And it doesn’t seem you��re going to be particularly patient about it, are you?”

She let her fingers move from their place atop the ridge of his collarbone to play along the exposed portions of his chest as she considered, feeling the skin bulging with the slits of scars traced into words there, making out the lettering of ‘SLOTH’ and telling herself what ample evidence she was feeling beneath her fingertips that this was a bad idea, that this was not a man she should get involved with in any capacity, that this could never end as merely a funny story about the time she hooked up with a cheesy youth pastor type trying to proselytize at a shitty bar, as something to keep as a trump card when swapping drunken tales of strangest conquests and nothing more.

She lifted her fingers from where they’d explored the mass of wounded skin, feeling the expectant pressure of his stare the entire time she moved the hand up her skirt, hooking a thumb around her underwear to push the fabric down to fall along her ankles.

He gave her a gentle closed mouth smile and final soft stare she guessed was intended to be a reassuring reward for her actions before dropping to his knees, lifting his head as he did so as not to break eye contact. He snaked a tattooed hand up her dress to encircle her leg as he massaged up and down, feeling the toned thickness of her thigh before actually breaking their shared gaze to look at them.

“Mmm, I knew you’d look as lovely fully exposed as you did sitting on that barstool with your skirt riding up,” he whispered, breaths still too teasingly thick and warm as he finally trailed his hand all the way up to push her dress to her waist.

“Can you quit congratulating yourself and do something useful with your mouth?” She hissed, hoping her impatience sounded more irritated than needy.

“Can’t I have a little time to savor it?” He asked as he drug a thumb along the crease between her inner thighs and her lips.

“John Seed, I swear I will fuckin’ pull up my underwear and drive home right now, it’s 2018 and I got plenty of toys at home to take care of myself if you’re gonna be a teasing little bitch and not —”

“Ah,” he said as if he’d had a sudden realization. “Perhaps that’s what’s giving me pause, you know my full name and I don’t know yours at all.” He gave another of those long, exaggerated sighs, this time falling directly along her need. “I’m willing to make exceptions to my own rules from time to time, but going down on a woman without knowing her first name just feels too improper,” he said as he moved his thumb to pull at the plump of her lip, spreading them to expose pink center without yet touching it.

“Jessie,” she grumbled while burying a hand in his hair, bunching it there and pushing him forward forcefully, “Call me Jessie.”

“Jessie,” he said once in agreement before finally moving forward to rest his lips around her clit, kissing the crest of her lips as warm and gentle as he had her mouth moments earlier.

She let out a long, relieved sigh, feeling a first pulse of quivering pleasure rush along her slit. Fuck, it had to just be the fact she hadn’t been with anyone since she’d moved there a couple months ago, there’s no way the evangelist with a stack full of religious tracts was actually that good with his mouth. At least that’s what she assured herself as she grew needy from the glide of his tongue against the bud quickly swelling and aching to meet his strokes, her walls giving that first twitch of want to beg for attention even as her mouth stayed silent and screwed shut.

But it would only take a few more of those measured strokes of his tongue before she could no longer stifle gasping breaths, tightening the fingers buried in his hair a little. It seemed to give him the signal he needed to move on as well, flicking his tongue to slide its slick underside along her bud, then down along the length of her slit. He stopped briefly at her entrance, making her worry he would make another attempt at teasing withholding, but instead he seemed fully focused on her pleasure now, pausing to swirl tongue along the glisten of her lips only long enough to use the hand still gripping her thigh to lift her leg to rest on his shoulder, granting him better access as he finally dipped his tongue inside her.

Shit, maybe he was just good, she admitted to herself as his tongue found all the right places to massage along to light up deep, pulsing nerves with electricity. He deepened the pumping of his tongue just as he moved the hand at her thigh to press a thumb against her clit, letting the pad rub precise circles against it and making that inescapable storm of ecstasy between her legs build further, dual throbs of pleasure crashing and tossing together unrestrained in her base.

She felt herself clench and tighten around his tongue as he worked her, unable to stop the way she squeezed her legs together to press more of him flush against her walls, feeling the building desire to be filled with something larger, more substantial.

“Take your cock out,” she ordered him in a shaky whisper, the first words she spoke aloud to him since he put his mouth on her. And he quickly obeyed, sending the hand not rubbing her clit to undo his belt and the buttons of his jeans, exposing himself to her, granting her the promise of that hard, thick length now on display. She craned her neck to angle and watch as he gave himself a first few experimental strokes, moaning into her center as he did and looking up at her with blue eyes that now appeared devoid of smugness and full of pleading beneath furrowed brows. ‘Do you like this? Me?’ they seemed to question desperately the entire time he touched himself, touched her, thrust his tongue into her while barely blinking.

And for some reason, she couldn’t deny him an answer.

“So fuckin’ good,” she cursed in encouragement to him as she felt herself near her peak, receiving her own reward of his rumbling moan vibrating through her center in appreciative response, making her buck hips a little into his movements, chasing her finish.

He seemed to notice that as well, quickly taking the signal to move the hand that had been stroking his length to lift her other leg, now fully supporting her weight with his shoulders and angling her hips so he could thrust that skillful tongue of his even deeper, open more of her up to him, reach further into the expanse of her need.

“Fuck,” she cursed again, her back pressing even more firmly against the wall she was propped against as she pushed her hips further against him, driving his efforts at thrusting deeper inside her. She began to feel herself clench tight around him again, that tight squeezing of everything, her thighs around his neck, her walls around his tongue, her chest as her heart drummed faster just before she let go, felt that tightness finally snap into pulsing release.

She was still catching her breath, still returning to the senses of her body as she felt strong hands lower still wobbly legs back to the ground, a firm arm wrapped around her waist — likely the only thing keeping her from falling to the ground as the man stood, letting his still unfastened pants fall to his ankles and his length settle between her trembling thighs as he did.

“Oh, fuck yes,” he groaned as he rubbed his hardness along her folds a few times before using his free hand to press it flush against her there, seeming to chase the feeling of the fading twitches of her orgasm fluttering through her lips against him, bucking himself slightly against the sensation, his face twisting into deepening lines and a broken whimper falling from his lips as he did.

He fucking needs me, she thought watching the subtle way his bottom lip sucked into his mouth for him to bite the gum there, excited tingle building back up in her center at the thought just as soon as it had dissipated. Needs me.

So she slowly worked her hips back to life to rub against him as well, watching his eyes widen and lift as he registered the way his thrusts were being met, hitching his breath a little as he locked eyes with her and finally spoke.

“Fuck, I want to be inside you so bad,” he muttered to her in a husky whisper, his hips still rocking.

“Too bad,” she said, mocking him with a mimic of one of his own long exaggerated sighs of disappointment and rocking her hips faster as she did. “You like my thighs so much, why don’t you just fuck those?” she questioned tauntingly into his ear, squeezing them a little around his cock in demonstration as she did. “Wouldn’t that be less of a sin anyways?”

“You’re an exceptionally cruel person, aren’t you?” he questioned even as he thrust harder into the firm gap of her pressed together thighs, his polished words and frantic body movements seeming to operate on two disconnected planes.

“No,” she replied, pushing him back to reverse their positions and press his back against the wall, lifting her left leg to pin him there with her hips, rubbing her folds against his length again from the new position, just as teasing, “I’m actually extremely benevolent,” she whispered in a raspy taunt into his ear, lifting her hips to let him feel the slickness built at her entrance against his head. “You just have to beg with the proper reverence.”

He shot her a small glare, even as his hips jutted towards the promise of her entrance. “I can leave too, you know,” he said pointedly, as if trying to convince himself. “I can stop.”

She gave a breathy snort of laughter. “I don’t think that’s really true,” she responded, rubbing against him again to spread her wetness along his length. “If so, be my guest.”

“You don’t, h-aah —” he rolled his hips again, and she moved a hand to pin them tighter against the wall and control his movements. “Like you don’t want it too?”

“I absolutely want it,” she replied, “But you need it,” she finished punctuated with a particularly quick thrust of her hips against him. “What can I say?” she taunted. “Next time, don’t be so eager to satisfy on round one. Maybe I’d still need to cum as bad as you do,” she said while nuzzling affectionately into the crook of his neck.

His only response was heavy breathing she could feel vibrate in his throat as she kissed there, their hips still rocking together. He drew in a sharp gasp when she gave a light nibble to the skin, letting the word she’d waited to hear whisper out in the same exhale.

“Please,” he whispered, “Please, Jessie, please let me be inside you.”

“See?” she asked, angling her hips to let his head press through tight walls of her center. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?” she rasped as she let him finally sink into her, lighting up the nerves there in a warm flood of desire all over again.

He gripped tight onto her hips as he thrust back to meet her, trying to both anchor himself as he bucked against her and control them to move at the pace he craved. She pulled at the gelled locks of his hair to turn his head at the right angle to push their mouths together again, the faint taste of herself still hanging on his tongue and filling her mouth as she kissed him, mixing with the subtle spice of whiskey still lingering on hers.

“So fucking cruel,” he tried to hiss out against her lips as they parted, but it hit her ears like another pleading moan. “But so fucking tight,” he whispered in the same breath as he snapped his hips into her, digging his teeth into his bottom lip a little harder every time he was completely buried.

“Yeah,” she hummed in agreement, the sound of her thighs slapping against his hips as she fucked him hard against the wall now cutting rhythmically through the air. “And you love it, you love it all.”

He whimpered in defeated acknowledgement, one of those sounds he gave that was so needy and desperate it clouded her mind to turn her into the same trembling creature of want, and she lowered a hand that had been buried in his hair, letting it trail down to feel through fabric the muscles of his still clothed chest tense and flex before finally reaching to rub against that sensitive bud already aching to be touched again.

“Aaaah , ” another little broken moan was all he vocalized as he moved his own hand from her hip and brushed her frantically moving fingers aside to replace with his own circling thumb, the novelty of the touch sending another little shockwave through her. He still didn’t speak, but his actions combined with the piercing stare he gave her as she thrust herself to take him seemed to say it all.

I touch you. I make you cum.

She heard the sentiment loud and clear, almost tangible in her mind as she stared into those blue eyes still managing to shine vibrant in the growing darkness, not remotely diluted by the pink glow of neon cast over his features.

“You need me —” she stumbled over her words a little, losing her composure slightly as she was overcome with that tingling desire to have him press against every part of her, take him deeper and deeper inside, “You need me so bad,” she whispered hungrily and matter-of-factly all the same against lips swollen from being kissed and bitten by his teeth and her own. “You need me to cum,” she finally said, speaking to existence that electric desire his eyes sent to her best she could, stopping before tacking on how much she needed it again as well.

“Yes,” he acknowledged in a trembling whisper, pressing his thumb harder against her clit, rubbing tighter circles that made her grow tighter in turn, press more firmly against him, make smaller but deeper thrusts against his hips to fill herself with him, “I need to feel it this time. Need to feel you around me.”

“Fuck,” she buried her head in the crook of his neck again, trying to press even harder against him, find every point of skin contact she could to keep hers from that unbearable burning for touch, her thighs now not even parting from the skin of his hips as she rocked against him, felt her face grow warm against his sweat dampened neck as she pulled tight with release around him, felt the hard length of his cock hugged against her wall as they clenched in climax. She’d barely felt the first pulse when she registered a hand twisting in her long ginger hair, pulling her back from her place hidden in his neck, forcing her to show her pleasure contorted face to unblinking blue eyes.

It would have been humiliating, infuriating, if it weren’t so goddamn satisfying.

It took a few deep heaves of her oxygen starved chest, a few more exhausted shakes of her hips before she remembered her place, willed her muscles to resist the urge to collapse against him, to let him continue to do her the kindness of upholding the illusion she was still the one pinning him down as he supported her limp body in his arms.

She gave a few quick snaps of her hips to signal to him she was back in control, lengthening her thrusts again to make his head rest barely still enveloped in her heat every time. She conversely slowed her movements the more life she felt life return to her muscles, made them more teasing and deliberate.

“I’m fucking close,” he told her with words that she’d already begun to read on his body, in the flush of his own rising temperature deepening the pink cast of neon, the shaky little bucks he gave back anytime she began to pull her hips away. “I’m going to cum inside you,” he warned with pleading eyes and ragged breaths.

“No, you aren’t,” she replied, voice full and confident again, shifting the knee that had rested against the wall to pin his hip down instead as she pulled back far enough for him to slip out entirely this time. “Not unless you beg me again.”

She watched devastation spread along his still flush and scrunched up face, anger and desire and desperation all swirling in one in the shadowy lines of his expression.

“I already fucking —” he settled on anger that was immediately interrupted and broken into soft cajoling as she pushed his head inside her just a little again, reminding him of the heat he was chasing, “I already did that.”

“No,” she corrected, pushing him a little deeper along her now relaxed walls, squeezing teasingly around him as she pulled back again, “You begged to be inside me. Cumming inside is a separate ask,” she explained as she made a few more uneven half thrusts, digging her knee further into the bone of his hip to keep him in place, letting the pressure up every now and then to let him thrust into her as he wished before stopping his movements just as quickly.

“You little fucking... I —” he gasped for air as their thrusts met at a particularly intense time, burying him deep inside her before she arched away again. “I am going to fucking make you —”

“Oh, I’m sure you’re going to do a lot of things when you don’t need to cum so bad.”

He gave a frustrated groan at that, brows still knitted together a little in anger as he finally looked up at her broken and defeated.

“Please Jessie,” he recited softly, putting heavy puffs of pleading into his breath, “Please let me cum inside you.”

With that she let her leg shift to circle his hip and rest against the wall again, letting him thrust inside her to the deep extent he needed once more, giving encouraging kisses along the side of his neck as he did so. She let sweet, praising whispers fall there too, as his hands lifted her dress even further to find the cheeks of her ass, holding her tighter in place so he could fuck into her harder, feel the full impact of his cock driving into her as he neared his finish.

Just as his fingers dug deeper, hard enough she knew they’d leave prints, he lifted one hand to pull at her hair again instead. He pulled her back to see her face the same way he’d done to her when she’d reached her own climax, this time letting her be the one to watch in focused admiration the contours of his face as he fell apart. He fought to keep his narrowing eyes open and locked on hers as he let out a final breathy cry past trembling lips, pinched his brows tighter together towards his forehead as he gave a last few thrusts and flooded her center with the warmth of his finish, finally biting his lip and rolling his head back to knock against the wall when he was empty, and she was full.

“Well, fuck,” she muttered as she pulled back, running fingers through the length of her hair and trying to regain snarky composure. “I guess I believe you. About one thing at le—”

She was cut off with the pressure of his lips on hers again, his now familiar tongue running along hers, the taste of expensive whiskey and her slickness now fully faded so that they could only taste each other, undiluted. She felt the thud of her back hitting the wall as he pressed her there, reversing their positions once again. He subtly lowered his kisses to brush against her chin, then trail along her jaw, her neck, finally the dip of her cleavage exposed above the neckline of her dress.

“What are you doing?” she asked when her mouth was finally free to speak again.

He answered by snaking his hands up her dress once again, letting tattooed fingers spread her folds, pressing the heel of his hand gently against her overstimulated bud before easily slipping inside her.

“We’re still in a public fuckin’ alley, ya know,” she grumbled halfheartedly as she clutched the fabric of his vest. He nodded against her chest and pumped his fingers inside her harder, mixing her slickness with his cum and pushing both deeper into her core, making her arch into his touch. Winding her back up again just as surely as he’d done before.

“Yes, I suppose you’re right,” he finally mumbled against her skin, just as his fingers brushed so good against those sensitive grooves of her walls, made them ache with need again. Made them clench to chase his filling touch as he finally pulled out.

She snapped her eyes open and glared a little dumbfounded, watching as he lifted his fingers from their place under her dress and brought them to his mouth to taste, black inked skin glistening with both of their fluids disappearing behind pink lips. He finally brought them out to briefly brush against her own lips and leave wetness there, seeming to dare her to chase that faintest residue of the taste herself by running her tongue along her lips.

She did, she couldn’t resist.

“I guess we’ll have to pick this back up later,” he let his tone fall back into feigned disappointment as he bent down to pull up his pants and redo his buttons, reminding her to step back into her own underwear.

“But that shouldn’t be a problem,” he hummed as he bent over again to pick up the crumpled up piece of paper she’d forgotten about, not bothering to smooth it before he pressed its glossy finish into her palm, encircling her hand to force her it to shut closed in a fist holding the wadded up pamphlet, clasped in the same way it had been when she stormed out of the bar to follow him. “After all, you have my number.”

Realization hit her just as he gave a smug, victorious smile before walking the final distance to his car, and she came back to her senses enough to yell just as he opened the door.

“Yeah?!” she bellowed towards him, unnecessarily loud for the short distance between them. “Well next time try leaving it on a cocktail napkin like a normal fuckin’ person!” she shouted as she ripped the pamphlet to shreds and threw the pieces to the ground in front of her feet, turning around to stomp towards her own car before she even saw his expression shift in reaction or her homemade confetti finally settle on the ground.

It’s not like she really needed it, anyways. He would just give her another one next Friday night.

#every FUCKING universe they exist in jessie is like: i will simply not get provoked by john seed. easy as that.#*it's always sunny music plays* 'jestiny gets provoked by john seed'#also i'm starting a crime victims compensation fund for mary may #otp: stop bothering these nice folks #oc: deputy jestiny ellen #ch: john seed #nsft #writies and wordies #prompts

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