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hiding-in-my-blanket-fort · 4 months

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Following Orders

(Soap x domme civvy F!Reader)

When the conversation between you and your best friend, Johnny, takes a turn into heated territory, he can't hide his physical reaction. You decide to help him out and offer a little relief, as long as he follows orders.

Minors DNI. 18+ only.

Word count: 3.4k

Content warnings: JOI, friends to lovers, dry humping, discussions of sex, protected PiV

Or read on Ao3

"Don't even think about it," you said, slashing at the air with your chopsticks.

With your back against your couch, seated on the floor, you were closer to the array of food spread across the coffee table of your apartment. But your position came at a cost.

Johnny huffed a laugh at your empty threat. Since he was on the couch behind you, he easily reached over your shoulder, snatching a piece of food from your takeout container.

"Asshole," you muttered.

"Admit it, hen. You love me."

You narrowed your eyes and pointed your chopsticks at him.

"Pushing your luck, buddy."

He chuckled and swapped his takeout container for a different one. After shoving a bite of food into his mouth that was too big, he spoke around it.

“Speaking of which, when are you finally gonna bring ‘round that boyfriend of yours? Need to give him a talk, you know. Man to man.”

You rolled your eyes. “I told you, Johnny. There is no boyfriend. And even if there was one, I’m not introducing him just so you can scare him off.”

Johnny spread his hands. “I wouldn’t scare him off!”

You shot him a fond look of annoyance.

“That’s what you did with the last one.”

He lifted one shoulder in a half shrug.

“It’s not my fault the little shite pissed his pants over a friendly discussion involving C4.”

You bit the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from laughing because you knew that would only egg him on even more. The corner of Johnny’s mouth quirked up because he saw right through you anyway.

“I could set you up,” he offered.

“Not in a million years.”

Johnny raised an eyebrow in amusement.

“Chicken.”

You stuck your tongue out at him.

“Sticks and stones, Johnny.”

He snorted and offered his takeout toward you, giving it a shake.

“Trade.”

You swapped containers. When you started digging into it, you sighed.

“I think I’m just too damn difficult to please.”

“Obviously,” Johnny replied dryly. “I figured that out a long time ago.”

You grabbed a pillow and chucked it at his head. He laughed and caught it smoothly without spilling his food. Then he set it on the couch beside him.

“Easy with the friendly fire. No need to get violent.”

“Says Mr. Sexy Soldier who has no problem taking someone home. You get along with everyone.”

“Come on now, that’s not true,” Johnny protested, his tone turning serious. “I’ve had my moments. What’s the hang up, anyway? Are these guys you’re dating not…reciprocatin’?”

You chewed the inside of your cheek, deliberating on just how much to divulge. While you and Johnny weren’t shy about conversations regarding sex, you didn’t want him to tease you about your most intimate desires either.

“No, it’s just…” You trailed off and dropped your gaze. “I have certain preferences. They don’t always align with what most guys consider to be standard sex.”

There was a pause. Johnny nodded.

Then…

“You’re into feet, aren’t you?”

You lobbed another pillow at him.

“No! God, you’re such a fucking child.”

He batted it aside, laughing.

“You were bein’ vague! What was I supposed to think?”

“Not that!”

Johnny raised his eyebrows and rolled his wrist in a go on gesture.

“Details, bonnie. I need details.”

“No, you really don’t.”

“When did you get to be so god awful bashful?”

You made a noise of distress, wishing you hadn’t brought up this topic of conversation. Using your elbow on the couch cushion, you leveraged yourself up and moved to the armchair - as far away from Johnny as you could get. You pulled your feet up to your chest and poked at your food.

“It’s just - I like to be in charge, okay?"

A beat of silence settled over the room. Johnny tilted his head as he considered this piece of information.

“That tracks,” he said at last. “You’ve always been mean to me. That’s how I knew you liked me.”

“I have not,” you countered, indignant.

He held up his forefinger and thumb with a squint to indicate a little bit.

“It isn’t about being mean,” I insisted. “I’m not interested in being submissive, that’s all. It makes me feel…”

You trailed off, suddenly realizing just how much you’d said. Johnny didn’t appear to be judging you though. And he wasn’t cracking any jokes at your expense either. In fact, he was suspiciously quiet and attentive.

“Makes you feel…what?” he prompted.

You sighed. “Powerless. But when I have a man handcuffed to the bed, hanging on every word out of my mouth, it’s…it’s intoxicating. It’s the greatest feeling in the world. I love watching how eager he is, quick to follow orders, hungry to obey. I love seeing how hard and desperate he gets, especially when he can’t do a damn thing about it until I decide to have mercy on him and give him the release he craves. That’s what I’m looking for. But the guys I’ve dated…they’re not into it at all.”

When you finished, Johnny had this glazed expression in his eyes. He cleared his throat, blinking a few times. Then he tugged the pillow beside him over his lap.

“That’s–uh–that’s good. Sounds like you know what you want, hen.”

His voice seemed…off. Too rough and scratchy.

“Did I say something wrong?” you asked.

Johnny shook his head vigorously. He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing.

“Nope. Not at all.”

As a brief silence settled over the room, Johnny shifted on the couch. You could have sworn the muscles in his biceps flexed a little more than necessary, straining at his T-shirt sleeve when he pressed his elbow into the pillow on his lap.

That’s when it clicked in your brain. And a giddy little thrill zipped up your spine.

“Johnny.”

He raised his eyebrows, overly focused at prodding into his takeout container, even though he hadn’t eaten a bite in several seconds.

“Yeah?”

“What’s with the pillow?” you asked.

He glanced up. “What about it?”

“Why is it on your lap?”

He shrugged. “No–no reason. It’s just…there.”

Oh, you were like a missile locked onto your target now.

“Did I…fluster you?” you asked, lowering your voice.

Johnny growled. “Damn it, woman. Can’t you see when a man is fighting for his life out here?”

You laughed and eagerly pushed your food aside, fixing all your attention on him.

“I can’t believe this. Did you really just pop a boner because of what I was talking about?”

He tipped his head back with a groan.

“Fine! Fine, god, yes. Is that what you wanted to hear? Are you happy now? You devilish little minx. Fuckin’ hell.”

You were smiling so big that your cheeks hurt. You adjusted in your seat until you were kneeling on your chair, elbows propped on the armrest, studying the delicious strain in Johnny’s posture as he grappled for control.

“Johnny MacTavish,” you said. “I had no idea you would be into that.”

“Yeah, well…I guess I am. It’s hot, okay?”

You smirked.

“Stop smiling,” he said with a strangled laugh.

You snickered and pushed out of your seat, taking a position on the opposite end of the couch from Johnny.

“So, you like to be bossed around, huh?”

“Jesus,” he muttered, pressing himself deeper into the couch.

When he pushed his knees wider, the pillow bucked upward. You tried–and failed miserably–to not think about the thrust of his hips. Why did that make the back of your neck prickle and your stomach get all tangled up in knots?

You bit your lower lip, debating whether you should continue or pull back. Even though you and Johnny were never shy about your conversations, this was clearly flirting with a sexual line that could muddy the waters between you.

Johnny’s gaze flicked to you, uncertain.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” he asked.

You shrugged. “Like what?”

“Like I’m fresh meat and you’re a hungry wolf.”

You grinned. “Do you want me to change the subject?”

Johnny hedged. That was all the answer you needed.

“I could help with your…little problem,” you added.

He blew out a shaky breath and turned his head away, his voice pitched so low that you almost missed it.

“You know damn well it’s not little, hen.”

Bracing an arm across the back of the couch, you leaned closer. Then you reached out and pinched a corner of the pillow between two fingers with a playful tug.

“Let me see,” you said softly.

Johnny clutched the pillow with a white-knuckled grip.

“No way.”

“Pretty please?” you teased.

Johnny didn’t budge, didn’t breathe a word. For once, he was uncharacteristically silent. You sidled closer and brushed a butterfly kiss to his cheek.

Slowly, Johnny turned to look at you. As soon as you met his gaze, your breath hitched in your chest. His ice-blue eyes were nearly completely black with arousal. In the back of your mind, you thought, we can’t do this. What if it ruins our friendship?

Then Johnny moved his hand away from the pillow without breaking eye contact.

You pulled it aside.

For a split second, you held Johnny’s gaze. Then you glanced down at his lap.

His jeans were stretched tight, the prominent ridge of his bulge showing just how much your words had affected him. Propping your elbow on the back of the couch, you rested your hand on your fist.

“Is this…too weird?”

Johnny adjusted in his seat, tugging at the front of his jeans.

“To be honest, bonnie, I don’t really give a shit right now. Do you…do you want to stop?”

You shook your head. A small smile flickered at the corner of his mouth.

“Good.”

A shiver of anticipation rose in your chest and you traced a fingertip down Johnny’s bicep.

“Unzip for me.”

Holding your gaze, Johnny’s shoulders and forearms flexed as he unbuckled his belt and unzipped his fly. The tip of his cock was barely visible, protruding from the waistband of his jeans. But when he started to pull it out, you clucked your tongue.

“Hold up. Did I tell you to touch yourself?”

Johnny bit back a groan. A muscle twitched in his jaw and he splayed his palms across his thighs. The tendons in his neck strained from fighting to sit still. Judging by the throb between your thighs and the jittery feeling in your stomach, you were just as eager as Johnny to plow ahead and get things moving. But you liked making him work for it, too.

“I should have known,” you said. “That you’d be so good at following orders, soldier boy.”

Johnny let out a breathless laugh.

“See? Like I said. You’re mean to me.”

“Oh, I haven’t even started yet.” You tilted your chin in the direction of his lap. “Push your pants down a little more. Show off the goods.”

Johnny arched his hips up, shoving his pants and boxers down to mid-thigh. His cock curved up toward his stomach, thick, straining, and beautiful. The blunt head glistened with pre-cum. All you wanted to do was reach out and claim it for yourself. He clutched the couch cushions on either side of him, fists tight, biceps straining.

You couldn’t help yourself and hovered your hand over his lap, your fingers so close to touching his cock that you could feel the heat radiating off him. Then you brought your mouth to his ear.

“Let’s see how strong your stroke game is, yeah?”

Johnny’s breath shuddered and you didn’t miss the way his abs flexed beneath his shirt. When he thrust up toward your hand, you pulled away at the last second. He sagged against the mattress with a noise of frustration that broke off into a laugh.

“Oh, you little shite,” he said.

“Come on. Try again. I know for a fact you’re too stubborn to give up that easily, Johnny. Keep going.”

His palm strayed over your thigh as he thrust up again, straining for that painfully slight friction your fingers would offer. You didn’t reprimand him for the touch to your leg. The way his palm settled there seemed like a comforting gesture, for both of you, so you let him get away with it just this once.

You watched Johnny struggle, falling short of coming in contact with your fingers every time no matter how much he arched upward. Head tilted back, lower lip clamped between his teeth. The way he pushed his hips back into the couch then up toward your hand was mesmerizing to witness, putting every gorgeous muscle in his body on powerful display.

“Fuck, bonnie, you’re killing me,” he said through his teeth.

You gave a pleased hum.

“You’re doing very well.”

He blew out a breath of frustration. A thin sheen of sweat was already beginning to form on his collarbones, pooling in the hollow of his throat. Your mouth watered at the thought of dragging your tongue over it, tasting the saltiness of him.

“Go on then,” you said. “Since you were so good for me, you can touch yourself.”

You sat back as Johnny frantically wrapped a hand around his cock with a breathless oh thank god.

You granted him two long, desperate strokes before you swatted his wrist. His skin was scorching beneath your touch.

“I didn’t say you could finish yourself off, big boy.”

“Fuck,” Johnny rasped, stilling his motion.

“That’s better. Bring your hand up over the head of your crown. You’re sensitive there, aren’t you?”

Johnny practically whimpered, his lips pressed into a thin, tight line as he obeyed.

“Keep circling with your thumb for a bit,” you said. “And do it slowly. I want to watch.”

He passed the pad of his thumb over the head of his cock in steady circles. You loved the way his cock jumped in his hand. When you lifted your gaze, you found Johnny looking at you with hooded eyes, his lips slightly parted. With his head tipped back against the couch, it fully exposed his neck, and it struck you how open and loose and vulnerable his position was.

He was putty in your hands even though the only touch you’d initiated was the slightest brush of your fingertip against his bicep a few minutes ago. You smiled sweetly and swept your knuckles along his cheek.

“If I had known you were so willing to please me,” you said. “We could have done this sooner.”

Johnny huffed. “You were too distracted with those damn sods who were no good for you.”

“Are you saying you like it when I’m mean to you?”

“I’ve got my fucking cock in my hand, hard as a rock. Do you really need me to spell it out for you more than that, love?”

You laughed softly with a quick kiss to the corner of his mouth.

“Fuck your fist for me, Johnny,” you whispered against his skin. “But don’t come. I want to see how long you can hold out.”

He gave a deep groan. The slick sound of his fist around his cock echoed in the room, sloppy and hurried. His palm left your leg for a moment, and before you could register the loss, he cupped his hand beneath your chin, pulling you in for a proper kiss.

You gasped at the electric shock of his mouth against yours, the wet heat of his tongue sliding past your lips. It was hard to breathe, hard to think, when your senses were full of Johnny.

For a brief moment, you pulled back just long enough to watch him pumping along his length. His arm flexed with the movement, but his hand was still beneath your chin. After a second or two, Johnny slid his hand into your hair, cradling the back of your neck.

You needed him, ached for him, and you had no idea how that happened. When had you changed from thinking of him as a friend to…this?

Before you realized what you were doing, you pushed Johnny’s fist away from his cock. Then you hitched your leg over his lap, your hands braced on the couch behind his head. Johnny’s palms came to rest on your hips, partly to guide you, but mostly to anchor himself. The weight of his cock bumped against your clothed pussy as you started grinding down on him.

“Fuck, you’re desperate, aren’t you, love?” he murmured. “You just needed a free cock to use and no one would give you what you needed.”

“But you’ll do that for me, won’t you, Johnny?” you said between one kiss and the next, breathing hard. “You’ll let me use your cock any time I want to, right?”

He nodded as he cupped his hands on either side of your face, pressing your mouth open for another soul-scorching kiss. Even through your clothes, you felt his cock throb and pulse, pressed up against your core.

You were both lost to the heat of the moment now, moving together, grasping, kissing, grinding. With his hands full of your ass, he rocked you back and forth on the ridge of his cock. When he mouthed at your clothed breasts, you yanked your shirt off with impatience, tossing it aside. A moment later, your bra followed.

You were surprised at how good and natural it felt. This was your best friend in the entire world and it could have been awkward but it wasn’t. As Johnny dragged the flat of his tongue over your nipple, pinching it between his teeth with a slight jolt of sweet pain, you closed your eyes and let your head fall back.

As you tugged at his hair, you realized just how wet and sticky your pants were getting. Gripping a fistful of fabric, you pulled his T-shirt over his head.

“Inside me,” you said, practically a croak because your voice was so raw with need. “Johnny, now.”

Johnny spread you out on the couch, cradling the back of your head in his hand to protect you in case you came in contact with the armrest. As he pulled away, he trailed his hands down your body, mapping every curve and swell as he went. When he reached your jeans, he flicked his gaze to yours in a silent request for permission.

Your lips quirked up. “Use your words, sweetie.”

He breathed a faint laugh and his cock twitched, thick and heavy between his legs.

“May I take your pants off, hen?”

You’d barely nodded when Johnny gave a playful growl and sucked a bruising kiss into your hip. He unbuttoned your jeans and stripped them off eagerly, leaving you in just your panties. He paused as he took in the sight of you there, waiting for him. He trailed his hands up your calves and thighs, teasing his thumbs at the edge of your panties.

“May I?” he asked again, his voice significantly gruffer this time.

Again, you nodded. Slowly, he hooked his thumbs into your panties and dragged them down, fully exposing you. Never in a million years would you have thought that inviting Johnny MacTavish over for your usual takeout to chat and catch up would lead to this - fucking on the couch.

“Condom,” you said even though it felt like your voice was going to give out at any moment.

Johnny blinked, shaking himself out of his reverie. Stripping his pants off the rest of the way, he fished a condom from his pocket and tore it open. When he rolled it on, you didn’t waste a second and locked your fingers into his hair with an insistent tug. You pulled him up until his body was flush against yours.

“Show me,” you said. “Show me how those damn sods were no good for me. Show me that you can do better.”

A hungry gleam came into Johnny’s arms as he braced his elbows on the couch, hemming you in. You cupped his face as he slotted his cock inside you and slowly, perfectly sank all the way in. Your mouth fell open at the first inch. You were moaning by the time his balls were pressed against your ass, filling you until you felt all of him, thick and throbbing and completely buried inside you.

“Oh, fuck, Johnny,” you said, your voice shaking with sensation. “All for me?”

“All for you, love,” he confirmed.

As he enveloped your body beneath him, your eyes rolled back in your head and you sank your teeth into his shoulder. The salty taste of his skin was even better than you imagined.

Masterlist

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