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samandcolbyownme · 3 months

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Summary: anon request - "can you write a smut for johnnie guilbert??"

Prompt: Johnnie and reader get into an argument which leads to make up sex.

Warnings: SMUT18+, strong language, arguing, hair pulling, pet names (dirty and cute), oral (m rec), unprotected rough makeup sex, filth

Word count: 2.6k | not edited

╔═══━━━─── • ───━━━═══╗

Johnnie has been working on editing his and Jake's video all day.

You think, no. You knew he forgot about them.

It wouldn't be as big of a deal if this was only the first time, maybe even the second or third - But it wasn't.

Over the last few weeks, you've had to either cancel or forget about plans because of Johnnie putting majority of his time into his computer screen rather than you.

You didn't really talk to anyone about it, or say anything to Johnnie, mainly because this is his job and you didn't think you had any room to bitch.

You checked your phone, sighing at the time - twenty minutes past reservation.

You used to remind him, then after the thirteenth, fourteenth, and fifteenth time, you decided that he should be able to put down the computer for an hour or two on his own, so you decided to just let things go.

You never really blamed him, sometimes it was because he actually had deadlines to make, or a video he and Jake were doing ran long.

But when that wasn't the case, you used yourself as an excuse - not feeling well, didn't sleep good the night before, something simple yet believable.

You rise up from the couch, walking towards Johnnie's room. You pass Jake in the hallway and he makes a joke you're in no mood for, "Fix your face, you look pissed."

His laughter is silenced when you roll your eyes, "I am."

"Uh oh." Jake puts his hands on his hips, shifting his weight onto his right leg, "What did Johnnie do?"

You shake your head and cross your arms, looking away from him because you didn't want him to see the frustrated tears in your eyes.

"Am I going to hear yelling?" He asks and you nod, laughing slightly, "Probably."

"Shit." He sighs, "Well if you need backup, just yell- ooh. We should have a code word."

You stare at him, trying not to laugh as he taps his chin, "Hippopotamus."

"Hippop- Jake. Really?" You laugh and he shrugs, "Well yeah, if you just scream hippopotamus, that will for sure throw him off even more, then I can come in with an open can of whoop ass."

He moves his hands in front of him, a serious look on his face that you just cannot take serious, "Okay. I don't think I'll need it, but I appreciate the support."

You pat his shoulder, watching him walk away before taking a deep breath, returning to what you were originally doing.

You stop in front of Johnnie's door, composing yourself so you don't go in, already lit like a fire cracker.

You know twice before opening the door, "Hey."

Johnnie has his headphones on, so he probably didn't hear you. You walk in, closing the door behind you. You walk over to him, gently tapping him on the shoulder.

"Jesus fu-" he jumps and looks up at you, "Jesus Christ, babe." He sighs, "Scared the fucking shit out of me."

"Sorry." You smile slightly and sit on the bed, "Whatcha doin'?"

He pulls his headphones down around his neck, "Just working on getting this video out."

You nod, "Cool. Cool.”

You look around his room, picking at your nails as you try and figure out how to calmly start the conversation.

"What's wrong?" Johnnie asks turning his chair towards you. You look over at him and shrug, "We just.." you laugh slightly, "It's not really funny, but we missed our dinner reservation."

He looks in the corner of his computer, "Oh fuck. I'm sorry." He looks up, "Why didn't you tell me?"

You scoff, raising your brows as you lower your voice, "I shouldn't have to."

"What? Sorry. I didn't quite hear you clearly." Johnnie closes his lap top and sets it on the desk.

You roll your eyes, lying back with a groan, "I'm not arguing with you Johnnie."

"I'm sorry, I must missed the part where I said we were?" He takes his headphones from around his neck, setting them on top of his closed computer.

You sit up, letting out a sigh, "I said, I shouldn't have to tell you when we have plans, Johnnie." You let your hands fall into your lap with a slap, "I let it go for a while, only because I didn't think I have a right to be mad, but you constantly editing and this or that is effecting us."

"So what.. are you saying?" He stares at you with a solid look, "You're going to leave? All because I'm doing my fucking job?"

"No." Your words come out louder than you intended, "I never fucking said I was leaving, Johnnie. All I said was that I shouldn't have to fucking remind you time and time again that we have plans for us. You and me. Boyfriend and fucking girlfriend!"

"Other than right now, name one fucking time me doing this made us miss out on something." He motions for you to take the floor and you sigh.

"Sam and Colby were throwing a party, I told them you had a deadline to make so we wouldn't make it. Tara was throwing a party, I told her I didn't feel good because you stayed up all night and half the day working on a video. Last week we missed out on dinner, again, because you didn't pay attention to the time. Two weeks ago, Jake wanted us to go with him to one of his other friend's parties, but you decided to get on and stream. Do you want me to keep going?" You raise your brows and lean forward slightly, "Because I can."

Johnnie laughs, "So.. you're telling me that you couldn't just come to me an hour or so before and tell me to get off? You're just blaming me for every time you missed out on going when you could have just gone yourself?"

"You want me to go to dinner, for two.. alone?" You tilt your head back, "You are being so unbelievable right now."

You stand up and Johnnie's eyes follow you. Your hands go to your hips as you pace back and forth, "I'm trying to get you to understand that I want- I need time with you, too Johnnie."

"You get time with me, y/n. I don't understand why you're so worked up over me d-"

"Because it's all you fucking do Johnnie. You're always filming a video. Editing a video. Uploading a video. Something with a stupid video." You turn to face him, "I want to go out to dinner, enjoy time with just us. Do you think I want to go to parties alone? It's no fun when I don't have you there."

He sighs, looking down, "So.." he looks up at you, "You waited until it was what, twenty minutes or so after our reservation time to come in here and make a huge scene that could have been avoided?"

You laugh, mouth dropped open as you stare at him, "Are you ever going to actually listen to what I'm saying or am I just wasting my breath being a broken record?"

"I am listening, you're just not getting what I'm saying, y/n."

"No. Trust me. I get it. Loud and clear." You motion to his computer, "I'll just leave you to it then."

You turn to walk towards the door, reaching to open it but Johnnie's hand stops you, "Don't."

"Don't what? Leave so I can sit here in silence while you continue to do what got us here in the first place?" You turn your head to look at him and he shakes his head, "No."

He grabs your wrist, pulling you towards the bed, "Were done talking about this."

"No.. I don't think we a-"

He cuts you off with his lips on yours. His hands pull your waist into him, "We're done talking for right now."

"You can't ju-"

"Don't run your mouth anymore, and I won't run mine anymore." He kisses down your neck, "We can talk after we get all of this frustration out."

A smile creeps into your lips, even though you're still mad. But, no worries. Johnnie will take care of that for you right away.

"Fine." You give in, sitting down on the bed. You pull him with you, his body hovering over yours, "Shut me up."

He smirks, tilting his head, "Gladly." He sits up on his knees, taking off his shirt. His hands move to his belt and you sit up to replace his hands with your own.

You glance up at him as you undo his jeans, biting your lip as you anticipate what's about to happen.

He nods towards the floor and you pull your legs out from in between his and move, dropping to the floor as he stands up.

He pushes his jeans down, and you move over to him, pulling down his boxers before he sits down on the edge of the bed.

He leans back, holding his weight up with his hands as he watches you move in between his legs. He sucks in a sharp breath as you wrap your hand around his cock.

His eyes following you as you lean in, sticking your tongue out to lap at the head of it. He groans lowly, balling up the blanket in his fists, "Fuck."

You work him into your mouth, coating him with your spit as his jaw hangs slack, "That's it."

You lift your head, moving your hand up and down to coat him fully before leaning back in to bob your head up and down.

His eyes flutter shut as a moan escapes quietly.

You look up at him, dragging your tongue up the underside of his cock as you tilt your head back.

"All the way in, babe." Johnnie places a hand on the back of your head, gently nudging you to come back for more.

You lick your lips, leaning in to take his cock back into your mouth. You bob your head, working further and further down, until you can feel him in your throat.

He groans, stroking the back of your head as you hold yourself there. You squeeze your eyes shut, digging your nails into his thighs before you pop back off, glancing up at him before going back in.

You lift your head, bobbing your head slowly as your tongue flattens against his cock.

"Fuck. Why didn't we just do this first.." He gasps as you sink your head all the way onto him, groaning as bucks his hips slightly, "Fuck okay. Okay."

He lifts your head, cupping your cheeks as he nods to the bed, "Get undressed then lay down."

You move to your feet quickly, pulling your shirt over your head before fumbling to undo your pants. You kick them off, getting ready to climb onto the bed when Johnnie stops you.

"Ah, ah. Panties too, sweetheart."

You nod, pushing them down and kicking them off before finally climbing onto the bed. You turn, facing him as you sit down.

He moves up in front of you, leaning in to kiss your neck. He pushes your body back as he moves his over yours.

He kisses down your chest and over to your boob, taking your nipple between his teeth. You gasp as he bites down, hands moving to his hair to mess it up more, "J-Johnnie.."

You whine, slightly moving your hips, "Please."

He kisses back up, to your lips, moving to lay beside you. He rolls you over so you're laying on your side, hand sliding under your thigh to lift up your leg.

You bite your lip as his hand slides down your body, stopping at your clit to rub small circles onto it.

You arch your back away from his chest, "P-please."

He rests his chin against your head as he slides his fingers down to dip them inside of you, “We don’t need to argue.” His voice is light, quiet, “We should always just fuck it out..”

He slowly moves his fingers in and out, “And then talk. Doesn’t that sound much better?”

You nod, “Y-yeah. So much better.”

“That my girl.” He kisses your head and moves his hand to grab his cock, rubbing it against your pussy a few times before slowly slipping in, “Fuck.”

His arm slides over your waist, hold you to him as he pushes in. You tilt your head back and his lips meet your neck, sucking a spot which earns an even louder moan from you.

“Fuck..” you breathe out, “Johnnie..”

He groans lowly, tightening his grip as he starts to thrust. Your foot rests on his leg as you keep your leg raised, moaning with each of his thrusts.

You lay your hand on his arm, digging your nails in as his thrusts grow harder.

“F-fuck.” You whimper, “Keep going.”

He moans, digging his fingers into your skin, “You feel so fucking good.” He pulls you closer to him as you push your hips back, dragging your nails down his arm , “Yes, yes, yes!”

He pushed your body forward, sitting up and getting on his knees behind you. He pulls your hips up, quickly placing his cock back into you.

Your cheek rests against the bed as you moan, pulling the blanket as his thrusts go right back to being rough.

Your eyes roll back, a string of moans leaving your lips in a constant loudness.

You yelp out as his hand makes contact with your ass with a hard smack. He brings his leg up, giving his cock a new angle that drives you absolutely crazy.

“Such a good fucking girl.” He groans out as he tilts his head back. He brushes his hair from his face before reaching up to grab a handful of your hair.

You tilt your head back, lifting your self up onto your elbows, “F-fuck. Fuck.”

“Wait for me, baby.” Johnnie moans, “Almost there.”

He tugs your hair, pushing his cock all the way, pausing for a second before continuing to thrust, “Shit.”

He lets go of your hair, gripping your hips. You moan, trying hard not to cum like he wants. You push your hips back, whining out as he makes it harder, “P-please.”

Johnnie’s thrusts grow sloppy, “Cum for me.”

Not even the end of his words and you’ve already let go, becoming a whimpering, moaning mess under him as you squeeze his cock repeatedly.

A few seconds later, he pulls out, spilling his cum onto your lover back and ass.

“Fuck.” He strokes himself a few times before falling back and sitting down. You lay down, trying to control your breathing and he lays a hand on your thigh, “I’m sorry for not listening to you.”

“I’m sorry for coming off bitchy.” You laugh slightly, “I was just..” you pause for a second and sigh, “I let my frustration get the best of me.”

“I don’t blame you. I haven’t been fully with us lately, and I promise that..” he taps your leg with each word, “..right now, you have my attention whenever you want it.”

You turn your head to look at him, “You promise?” You hold out your pinky and he smiles as he wraps his around yours, “I promise.”

As Johnnie gets up to get something to wipe off with, Jake yells from the other side of door, “y/n? Do you need a hippopotamus?”

Johnnie looks at you super confused and you can’t help but laugh, “I’ll explain then.”

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

This is my first ever Johnnie one shot, so please let me know how you liked it! I’m interested to hear what you have to say!

Thank you for reading! Love you all! 🖤

Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

#samandcolby-ownme #johnnie guilbert #Johnnie Guilbert one shots #Johnnie guilbert smut #Johnnie guilbert smut one shot #Johnnie Guilbert dirty one shot #smut #smut one shot #smutty one shot #smutty Johnnie Guilbert #smut one shot Johnnie Guilbert #run your mouth #one shots #one shot smut #dirty one shot

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martiniblues · 4 months

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she looks so perfect ; ellie williams

pairing gf!ellie x fem!reader

synopsis ellie comes back from a late night patrol to be greeted by you already waiting for her. luckily for her, you happen to be in a pair of her boxers.

genre so so much fluff because i’m sick and twisted, kinda suggestive but nothing explicit, mentions of food.

wc 0.8k

note this is inspired by she looks so perfect by 5SOS (aka the best song ever)

“ellie?” your voice waltzed into her ears as she stepped into your place. kicking off her beaten-up converse, smelling the sweet smell of pancakes wafting through the air.

“yeah, it’s me!” her mood instantly peaked at the sound of your voice and the soft music you decided to play as you cooked.

ellie tiptoed down the hall, wanting to observe you before you noticed her. you always called her a "creep" jokingly, of course, but she just loved watching you live in your own little world.

whether it was when you were so caught up in the book you were reading that your face would shift into the silliest expressions or when you danced softly with yourself as you got ready for the day, ellie loved it more than anything.

like right now, you stood in the center of your kitchen, mixing bowl in hand, swaying and humming along with the song that played from your phone. an oversized band tee hung loosely off your shoulder while a pair of red checkered boxers hugged your hips.

she recognized them immediately; they were the same ones she wore a few nights ago. she wondered where they had gone, but now her question was answered.

as you turned with the music, you caught sight of ellie leaning against the door frame, smirking with her arms crossed. “jesus, els you almost gave me a heart attack!” you clutched the bowl to your chest in fright. “we literally spoke thirty seconds ago,” she argued, walking behind you to wrap her arms around your waist and bury her face in your neck.

“mmmmm” she mumbled something you couldn't quite understand, feeling her lips move against your skin with each undefinable word. her cold hands ran over and under your shirt, outlining each and every curve and dip of your body. you continued swaying with the music silently, not trying to pry her into talking about her outing. you knew by the time breakfast was done, ellie would talk your ear off about the “stupid shit” jessie did or the “motherfuckers” she killed.

while one arm wrapped around your stomach and laid its palm to your side, ellie’s other hand traveled lower and closer to your hip. “and when did you get these? they look oddly familiar,” her thumb looped under the elastic band and pulled so the fabric would lightly snap against your skin, teasingly.

you flushed instantly at her words and raunchy actions. “they should be familiar since they're yours, els” you smiled. you and ellie always wore each other's clothes, an unspoken vow that the two of you were always together, even if it meant not physically.

ellie continued running her blunt nails against the fabric, dipping her curious fingers underneath the bottom to grab your ass or travel along the lace of your underwear.

“els, these are gonna burn if you keep distracting me,” you scolded her, turning around and pulling her hands off your body. “go sit, and i’ll bring you some in a sec." you punctuated your request with a kiss to her freckled cheek. in reply, she just huffed and sulked away like a grumpy child. it wasn’t a shock to you, ellie was always grumpy before the afternoon.

you plated the food for both you and ellie and practically skipped on your way to the table. you placed ellie’s plate in front of her while she played some games on her phone. before sitting, you kissed the top of her head and ruffled her auburn hair, which finally made her peel her eyes away from the game and notice the food ahead of her. “hey…” she whined, but still smiled as you sat beside her. before you could get settled, ellie reached out, grabbing your smooth calves with her rough hands to lay your legs across her thighs.

“missed me, huh?” you tilted your head at her clinginess. its not that ellie was never clingy, but typically, when she came back from a late night out, she wanted to do nothing but sleep.

“of course i missed you, my pretty girl.” she continued to stuff her mouth, rubbing your leg with her free hand.

“plus, if i would have known you’d be in this, i would have ran home.” she eyed you to emphasize her boxers, which rolled up higher on your thighs. “maybe i should just steal all your boxers, huh?” you leaned closer to her, completely disregarding the half-eaten pancake drowning in syrup on your plate.

“that sounds good,” she whispered even in the private walls of your place, grabbing your face and pulling her lips against yours. her soft strands of hair, which fell from the small knot at the back of her head, tickled your cheeks. a bloom of warmth sprouting in your chest at the feeling of her lips on yours.

ellie could be gone for an hour and when she came back, she would kiss you as if she had gone off to war for months.

you reached up to run your hands through the hair she left down that barely touched her shoulders, making her sigh contently. she pulled your chair closer to her, not breaking apart once.

before you could pounce on her, she pulled back with wide eyes. “what is it?” you grabbed her face, trying to figure out what had gotten her so bewildered. she grabbed your hand firmly and pulled it down to rest on your knee, which still lay across hers.

“i just remembered the stupidest fucking thing jessie did yesterday,” she laughed before beginning her tangent.

note this might be too niche but modern!ellie would DEFINITELY listen to 5SOS like i know she loves michael’s hair and is a sounds good feels good enthusiast!!!! she would totally learn songs on her guitar LIKEEE DO YOU SEE MY VISION!!!

#wlw scenarios #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams fluff #ellie williams au #ellie williams x reader #ellie x you #ellie x y/n #ellie x fem reader #ellie x reader #ellie the last of us #ellie williams #ellie williams fic #ellie williams x you #sapphic #lesbian

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greatooglymooglyyy · 2 months

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As the anon who requested the angst👀 YOU HAVE FED MY CRAVING GOD BLESSS😩 now i need the pt2👀

Say Goodbye Part Two (Chris Sturniolo)

contains: cussing, angst, breakup emotions, arguing, fluff at the end

a/n: idk if this will be a good series or not or if I should wrap it up with the next one. let me know. love ya

read part one here

One Year Later:

“I can’t believe you’re actually going!” My best friend, Leah, exclaims excitedly. I sigh with exasperation as she beams at me with enough pride for a Nobel Peace Prize win.

“Jesus. Have I really become that much of a hermit? It’s just a bonfire.” I say, turning and rummaging through my closet. I was hoping to find something that doesn’t scream ‘I’m a loser homebody with no friends’, but so far, I'm coming up a bit short.

Leah laughs dryly, hopping off my bed to lean on the wall next to me. “Girl. Half our friend group thinks you moved to Europe or something, and the other half thinks you hate them because you never answer their calls.”

I wince at that, feeling a little bad about how antisocial I’ve been. Heartbreak does that to you, I guess, especially when your heartbreak becomes famous and won’t stop haunting your for you page. Phones just seemed like a lot of work after that.

I finally find a semi-decent fit and throw it on, turning to Leah for approval. She smiles and does her little excited dance before reaching for my hand.

“Have I ever told you, you’re the hottest bitch I know?”

I sigh dramatically, putting my hand to my cheek as if in thought.

“Once or twice, I believe. But tell me again-”

*************

I take a deep breath and stare out the window as Leah turns her car off. It’s dark, the only light from a few flashlights, people’s phones, and the blaze of the firepit. There are way more people than I expected and I give Leah an unimpressed look as we meet at the front of the car.

“Did I say kickback? I meant-”

“Shut the hell up,” I say with a laugh, linking my arm with hers as we walk down the path. I spot a few of our friends that I haven’t seen in a while and head towards them. Nate lifts his head and locks eyes with me, giving me a smile that slowly turns into a panicked look. He jogs over to me, arms open and a nervous smile on his face.

“Hi! What the hell? How have you been?” He says, looking around and making my stomach start to knot.

“Nate.”

“Hm?” He says, biting his nail.

“Please tell me, he’s not-”

“Natedog! Do we have any more marshmallows?”

His voice cuts through me like a knife instantly and I can almost feel time slow down. Over Nate’s shoulder, I find him and watch him casually stroll over to us. His hair is so much shorter than it was the last time we spoke, only a few inches peeking out from under his hat. The subtle lining of stubble around his jaw makes my knees weak as I wonder how much else has changed.

He finally clocks me when he’s only a few feet away, halting for a second and blinking slowly. I hold his eye contact, squaring my shoulder, determined to be mature about this. When he finally makes his way over to the three of us, Chris whistles low and slings an arm over Nate’s shoulder. “Damn. Looks like you found a ghost, huh, kid?”

Okay so maybe we’re not going to be mature.

“What are you doing here, Chris?” I say, crossing my arms. He raises an eyebrow and looks around theatrically. “At my best friend's party?”

I shoot a look over at Leah, who very pointedly does not meet my eye. I’ll deal with her later.

“In Boston. Aren't you more of a 90210 type these days?” I say, giving my best valley girl impression.

Chris clenches his jaw, clearly annoyed. “We come home all the time. We’d be here more if it wasn’t for our pod.”

I laugh sarcastically. “Sure. That’s something new to blame. Before Cut the Camera, there were always meetings or merch. I’m just surprised you could tear yourself away.”

“We make it back for what’s important.” He snaps.

I narrow my eyes at him now, stepping closer. “That’s interesting because you could never seem to make it home for me,” I say, throwing all the bitterness I’ve held onto into my words.

Chris snorts, leaning down so we are at eye level. “Guess I’ve always had my priorities straight then, huh?”

Ouch. I press down the hurt that shoots up my body, refusing to let it show on my face, and nod.

“At least you can finally admit it out loud,” I say, spinning on my heel and making my way back to the car.

I hear my name being called behind me but I don’t bother turning around until I feel a hand grab mine. I snatch away and look back, prepared to cuss Chris out, but it’s only Leah.

“I’m so sorry.” She says, reaching into her pocket for her car keys. “I swear Nate didn’t say he’d be here.”

I sigh and swing open the passenger door. “It’s fine. Can we please just go?" She nods and we both get in the car, preparing to drive off. But as soon as she starts to back out, we see Chris running towards the car. Leah hits the break and looks over at me, waiting to see what I want her to do. I sigh and tell her to wait, hoping he’s not coming to pick another fight.

Chris rounds the car, clearly out of breath, and swings open my door. He kneels, studying my profile, as I keep my eyes trained stubbornly out the windshield.

“What, Chris?”

He sighs, bracing his hands against the roof of the car.

“I’m sorry. I don’t want to be an asshole to you. We said we’d never do this.” I close my eyes at his words and the feeling of him so close.

“Will you look at me, please?” He asks softly. And I do, meeting his eyes and trying my hardest not to melt on the spot. He lifts his hand as if to cup my face but thinks better of it, lowering it awkwardly. I look down at his hand with longing before clearing my throat and giving him a strained smile.

“It’s fine, Chris. We have mutual friends. We’ll keep it casual.” I say with false brightness. He gives me a sad smile and shakes his head.

“No. There’s never going to be anything casual about us.” He replies and my heart aches at the sincerity in his voice. I swallow hard and shrug, turning back toward the front.

Chris laces our fingers together and my breath hitches at the first contact we’ve had in a year. I watch as he brings my hand to his lips and holds it there for a second, the moment stretching on. Leah clears her throat and we both jump, remembering we’re not alone. Not to mention, we’re supposed to be no contact.

Chris places my hand back on my lap, running his thumb over it, before pulling away and standing up.

“I’m going to call you tonight,” He begins, stepping back and placing a hand on the door. “and you’re going to answer.”

I scoff, unable to fully hide my smile at his cockiness.

“What makes you think that?”

He grins and tilts his head, “Because you said you didn’t ever want to hear from me again, but somehow you still know the name of our podcast.”

Well fuck. His smile grows as he shuts the door, waving at Leah and then jogging back down to the beach.

The silence in the car stretches for a minute before Leah puts the car back in reverse.

“So-”

“Don’t say a word, Leah.”

a/n: part three available now

taglist: @sturniolho @sttzee @tillies33ssss @miloisdone1 @sstvrnioloo @sturnssmuts

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graves4girls · 7 months

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Johnny x celeb reader n there’s a party for other celebs etc. and there’s a bunch of paparazzi, a day or two before Johnny n reader had a quarrel and reader shows up to the party in a revenge dress. basically giving a show for all the paparazzi while avoiding johnny

up to u on how it ends! (sorry if my request didn’t make sense😭😭)

☆ paparazzi | johnny cage

✮ wc. 1.3k ⚠︎ warning(s): fem!reader

lowkey wanna do a nsfw part 2 but idk i'll think abt it ⟡ be sure to check out my work on ao3 → gravesforgirls !!

He'd been pissing you off all afternoon, whining about how you shouldn't have even taken the role because your co-star was way too friendly with you. He'd spam his socials with selfies of the two of you, you'd get swarmed by paparazzi for grabbing a coffee together in between scenes, and there were even rumors floating about that you'd dropped Johnny for him. Of course, all of it was utter bullshit to stir up drama and get clicks, but you didn't think it'd get to Johnny the way it did.

"Oh, c'mon. He was all over you the whole goddamn interview!"

You roll your eyes, pressing a manicured finger to your temple. "Jesus Christ, Johnny, I'm not in the mood for this right now. You know there's nothing going on."

He huffs as you plop down on the edge of the bed to pull off your heels.

"Do I? Cause the more shit that leaks, the more it looks like there is something going on. He's always touching you and shit."

"C'mon Johnny, do you really think I'd cheat on you with some guy I met five months ago?"

He sucks his teeth, staring down at you with his arms crossed over his chest.

"Y'know, I don't really know what to think right now."

You gape at him for a moment, scoffing as you stand from the bed.

"Are you seriously accusing me of cheating on you? Oh my God, you are such an asshole." You move to walk out the door.

"Where the hell are you going?"

"The guest bedroom. Come talk to me when you're done being a dick."

He's still out of the house by the time you're stepping out of the bedroom, the satin of your mini dress hugging every curve perfectly, heels clicking against the shiny tiled floor as you make your way out of the house. You knew he'd be blowing up your phone the minute he gets home and realizes you're gone, but you're too worried about getting to the party on-time to think about it too much, slipping into the sleek black limo parked in front of the house.

You walk down the moonlit street, arm locked around your co-star's as the cameras flash behind the barrier, snapping any and every angle as you wave to the crowd. You stop for a minute to scribble a couple signatures and pose for some selfies before you're escorted into the venue, giggling to the girl clinging to you as you make a bee-line for the bar. You part ways as you lean against the varnished counter, tapping your nails against the wood as you order a drink.

"Hey! I didn't know you were gonna be here!"

You turn to the voice, grinning at him as you pull him into a short hug.

"I wasn't planning on it actually, but there was a little trouble in paradise so…"

He hums softly, giving you a sympathetic nod. "You're still with Johnny?"

You swipe your drink from the counter, taking a sip as you nod. "Yeah, despite what the media thinks. God, I can't believe people actually think I'd ever cheat on him. It really pisses me off."

"Yeah, it's shit. But you're here to have a good time. C'mon."

You roll your eyes with a small laugh as he pulls you away from the bar, letting him drag you into the crowd.

You're posed for a photo op when your phone buzzes in your clutch, and you can already guess who it is as you step away to check the notification.

where are you 8:05 p.m.

You close the message with a sigh, tucking your phone away to join your friends back in the booth.

You hadn't noticed the constant buzzing of your phone as you go about the rest of the night, too busy dancing to pay attention to the device. It's only when you step away to touch up your makeup in the bathroom that you pull out your phone, sighing at the onslaught of messages that cover your lock screen.

where are you 8:35 p.m. where are you 9:03 p.m. are you still mad at me 9:42 p.m. missed call 10:01 p.m. call me 10:04 p.m. missed call 10:16 p.m. missed call 10:36 p.m. please call me 10:53 p.m. missed call 11:04 p.m. are you okay? 11:05 p.m.

You're about to turn your phone off when it buzzes again, and you huff out a small sigh as you answer the call, eyeing your nails as his voice cuts through the phone.

"Jesus Christ, why don't you answer your goddamn phone? I've been texting you all night. Where are you?"

You lean over the sink to prod at your makeup in the mirror. "Relax, babe. I was busy."

You can hear him grumble something under his breath. "Relax? My girlfriend disappears and doesn't answer the phone for four hours and I'm not supposed to get worried?" He pauses for a second. "Is that music? Where the hell are you?"

You roll your eyes, fixing your hair.

"I'm at a party, Johnny. Am I not allowed to go out alone?"

"No, I just would've liked a heads-up that you were gonna be out so I didn't freak out. Are you coming home soon?"

You hum as you think for a moment.

"Probably not, so don't wait up for me. I gotta go."

"Wait, are you–"

You hang up before he can finish his sentence, grinning at your friends as you emerge from the bathroom.

You're sat on one of the uncomfortable bar stools when you feel a tap on your shoulder, and your expression tightens as you turn around.

"What are you doing here?"

He gives you a look, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Can we talk for a second?"

You glance between your friends and his cute little frown, sighing as you slip off the stool.

"Make it quick."

He ushers you away from the crowd and out one of the back entrances, eyeing your outfit for a moment before he speaks.

"Since when do you go to these kinds of parties?"

"Since tonight. Why do you care so much that I'm here? It's not like you never go to parties." You lean back against the cool brick of the building, mirroring his posture.

"Look, if this is about last night, I'm sorry. Those stupid rumors got to me and I was being an asshole. I was planning on going out to dinner tonight actually, but obviously that fell through..." He steps closer to wrap a hand around your waist, the other tucking some hair back. "Can we just go home and go to sleep? I really don't want you to be mad at me."

You push his hand down with a small scoff, but you lean into his chest as you stare up at him. "You're so stupid. C'mere."

Your hands come up to cup the sides of his face, pressing a short kiss to his lips that he chases, pressing you against the wall as his other hand settles over your hip. Your arms curl around his neck to pull him impossibly closer, fingers combing through his short hair as he hums against your lips. He draws back for a second to run his eyes all over your figure, raising an eyebrow as you let a small grin pull at your lips.

"Where'd this pretty little thing come from?"

He leans in to drop a couple kisses to your throat, hands slipping over your hips to grab at your ass through the silky satin.

"I was saving it for a special occasion."

You tug at his hair to pull him away, sticking a quick kiss to his lips as you push a hand against his chest. "Let's get out of here before we get caught."

#j.cage #johnny cage #johnny cage x reader #mortal kombat #mortal kombat 1 #mk #mk1

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milesmolasses · 11 months

Text

Mango’s n Kisses (miles morales x black! reader)

l🇯🇲

cute n kinda short

love me some mangos

Miles stood in the Caribbean marketplace as he stared down at the ringing Facetime call.

"hey baby, um how do I know which one is the best one to buy... mhmm.. i-i'm just gonna turn my camera around and you can look at what they got."

the other day you texted Miles during your nail appointment about your craving for mangos, but they weren’t just any mangos, no no no. they were from a market that you used to live by with your mom when you were younger. this used to be your favorite place growing up because it had all your favorite snacks to eat like plantain chips, big foot chips, milo cubes, etc. however, the one thing you miss most about it was their delicious mangos. so sweet, with a hint of sourness, not too big to the point where they looked like they were pumped with chemicals, but big enough to satisfy your tastes.

you don't go back often because the market was in Queens, but you moved down to Brooklyn a while ago. but whenever you do go back, you make sure to grab some of their best-looking mangos to eat on the way home. however, you haven't been back to the market in a while; school was kicking your ass for a while and you didn't have much time to cross over to a whole new borough.

Miles had been dating you for a while now, so naturally you decided to introduce him to what you considered the best place on earth. when you got home with him, he was hooked on the mangos. he went through a good amount of them on his own, which shocked you because you could barely get through one full mango.

"Jesus Miles the mango not goin' nowhere relax-"

that was about two months ago, and since then you unfortunately, haven't gone back. so when Miles shot you a text asking if you wanted him to pick up some mangos from the market, you smiled a smile so big, the hair lady you went to that day had to ask if you were alright.

my stinka <3: i'm in Queens u want mangos?

Y/N: u fr asking me that???🤨🤨

my stinka <3:ntm on me 🙄

Y/N: sorry ily 🫶🏾

my stinka <3: imma head there rn

my stinka <3: wait how many should i get??

Y/N: idk look for a few good ones

Y/N: like 3? i'm getting my hair done rn imma text u later

half way through your hair process, you got a message from a confused miles asking which ones he should get. you were the one who usually chose what mangos to buy and so miles was there in the market, confused on what to buy.

Y/N: idfk i'm not there

my stinka <3: what color should they be???

Y/N: idfk?? if i was there i would tell u

my stinka <3: u don't even know the color?? bffr

Y/N: don't get at me blame urself! at ur big age u don't know what fruit is ripe and what isn't 💀

my stinka <3: smd

Y/N: LMFAOAOAOOO WE FR LIVIN IN A SASSY MAN APOCALYPSE AND YOU ARE LIVING PROOF💀💀💀

my stinka <3: i'm not sassy 😒

my stinka <3: imma call u hol up

you wait a few seconds for the Facetime call from miles to come in until you realized; only the back half of your hair was done. the rest was standing up on your head in a small bun, you thought you looked a hot mess. when the phone started ringing you answered and quickly turned off your camera before it could connect to miles.

his face popped up on the screen and you could see where he was with all the yummy snacks in the background. "hey bae," he said into his headphone mic.

"hey baby"

"where ya face at? turn on the camera"

"mmm, I'm good! show me the mango"

"umm no, you turn on your camera first"

"I'm getting my hair done Miles"

"and? I wanna see your face baby, please?" he whined a bit into the pleading, pouting out his chapped lips.

...yup, you folded. you couldn't deny him when he asked so sweetly. you turned on the camera but didn't show your whole face. the camera was tilted so he could only really see your forehead, but he was satisfied with what he got.

"you gonna show me when it's done?" he questioned.

"of course, now show me the fruit please," you smiled but of course, he couldn't see it.

when he showed you the fruit, he moved the camera around a bit to show you the whole selection. you told Miles to squeeze the mangos you chose and tell you how they felt.

"take the ones that feel soft, but not too soft those are too sweet," you told him as he felt around the few mangos that you told him to pick up.

"aight, thank you amor. call me when you're almost done with your hair so I can pick you up and see you."

"aww you wanna see me stinka butt?" you faced your camera towards your face so he could see the cute downward smile you had on your face.

"yeah, cutie. imma see you later mama," as you heard him call you a cutie, your heart literally fluttered.

"bye stinka.."

I am fully convinced that miles has chapped lips 💀

he’s definitely sassy too. I stand by that

got so much love for him it might be unhealthy

#miles morales #across the spiderverse #miles morales x reader #spiderman miles morales #milesmolasses

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dearlittlefandom-stalker · 1 year

Text

Imagine being one of the Roman soldiers though. Imagine having to do what you thought would be a normal execution one day.

Three convicts, two of which are thieves. As for the third… I mean, yeah some people say this guy is the “messiah” (whatever that means, you’re no Jew) and there is talk of miracles and the religious nuts really seem to hate him, but you have him nailed to a cross all the same, so what? If he is a god then he can join the club; Caesar knows that the Romans have enough gods to fill their pantheon and then some. Most likely he’s just a man with some hefty delusions that cost him his life.

But then earthquakes happen. Weird but can be written off as chance, right? Then the sky goes dark midday. A blood moon rises.

That ain’t normal.

Feelings unlike anything you’ve ever felt arise in your gut. The man cries out with a loud voice “It is finished!” and dies immediately after. You shiver. Uncanny, that is.

“Surely this Man is the Son of God,” a fellow Soldier exclaims beside you. At this point you might agree, but the spear still pierces through his skin all the same and you think (hope) that whoever this God-Man was that he isn’t your problem anymore, seeing as he’s dead. Hopefully you can forget the whole thing. (Somehow you feel that this scene will haunt you for a long time)

But the debacle is not over with the burial, as you had assumed. The religious nuts get real anxious and noisy, so to shut them up Pilot has a watch set to guard the body of a dead man. A dead man.

You personally have seen many dead men in your time, but never have you seen one move. Never have you seem or heard of people particularly wanting to touch dead bodies, either. You almost say as such when you are one of the men assigned the last watch, but decide you’d rather like to keep your tongue than chance losing it. You expect it to be rather a boring job, all told.

And it is. Until these, these beings of light and lightening descend on top of you from the Heavens and the last thing you can think before you know no more is whatever god whose body I’ve been guarding please spare me

You wake up, despite all your expectations to the contrary. You almost wonder if it would have been better if you died.

Those religious nuts come to you and your fellow guards and give you some coin along with a fake story to tell. They offer to save the skin off your back so you are not put to death like others who’ve been killed for less. You go along with the story because to be honest there is still a part of you that hopes this was all a dream. But the borrowed words taste like ash in your mouth and the coins jingle in your pockets with all the weight of a chain.

You go through the rest of the day (and night, and the day and night) after the event in a haze. Your feet walk where you know not and you don’t care to correct them.

But then you see Him.

The same Man you saw die.

The same Man whose body you guarded.

This Son of God, in the flesh, you see stand in front of a crowd with your own two eyes and you can scarce believe it but all the same you know more than you’ve ever known anything before that this is real, that this Jesus is truly not just a god, but The God.

And so you decide to follow Him.

Just imagine that for a minute.

#Good Friday #The Gospel #roman soldiers #Bible #Christianity #He is Risen!#Jesus Christ #story #my writing #personal #Resurrection Sunday #Easter Sunday

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autisticlancemcclain · 6 months

Text

Lance flicks on the lights and his soul damn near leaves his body.

“Jesus H. Christ one a one-wheeled motorbike, Pidge,” he gasps, hand pressed to his galloping heart. She doesn’t laugh — Pidge doesn’t laugh often — but Lance has learned to read her, in the year or so they’ve been in space. He recognises the twitch of her mouth, the flash in her eyes. “What are you doing here?”

“Your lock code is embarrassingly easy to guess,” she says in lieu of an answer. Lance smiles reflexively at the matter-of-fact, half chiding tone. He pulls finally away from the wall, having caught his breath, and starts rifling through his cabinet.

“Yeah?”

He hears the shuffle of blankets, the muffled hits on a pillow being shoved into a lap. When he glances out of the corner of his eyes, he finds her sat comfortably in the dead centre of his bed, criss-cross-applesauce, nails picking at the threads of his pillowcase and eyes blinking owlishly behind her glasses.

“Yes. Fifty eighth most common four letter password.” She pauses a moment. “Spelling F-A-R-T with numbers is very immature.”

Lance snickers. He’d forgotten what his password spelt, he’s used the same combo so long. “Is that right?”

“Yes. You should come up with something more secure. It was my second guess.”

“What was the first?”

Pidge doesn’t seem to notice his curious look. Her eyes are focused on the items in his hands, watching diligently as he sits on the floor next to a dish of water, squeezing some soap into his hands and rubbing it all over his bare legs. Her head is tilted with a similar look of inquiry.

“Your birthday. What are you doing?”

Instead of answering, Lance removes the cap from his razor and starts to carefully drag it down his calfs, rinsing it every two strokes in the water. Pidge watches with rapt attention.

Weirdo, Lance thinks, fondly and hypocritically.

It doesn’t take long for the questions to start firing off.

“What’s the point of shaving your legs?”

“Gets rid of the hair.”

“Why do you want to get rid of the hair?”

Lance takes a moment to gather his thoughts, answering truthfully. “Lots of reasons. Not all of them I’m proud of. I started mostly ‘cause Veronica did it and I used to do everything she did.” He pauses. A sad smile pulls on his lips, and he swallows around the comfortingly familiar lump in his throat. “Well. ‘Used to’. If she was here I’d probably still be puttering around after her.” He finds Pidge’s eyes and smiles at her, winking. “Older siblings are easy to hang off of, huh?”

Her mouth twitches. She breaks eye contact, resting her chin on her knees and moving the pillow under her legs. “No. Older siblings are annoying. And ridiculous. I once followed Matt around all day and wrote down every single time he said ‘ow’. He said in on average twenty-three times an hour.” She meets his eyes again, mouth pinched and eyebrows raised. “Your average is twenty-four.”

“I see.”

“You should tie your shoes.”

“Nah.” He taps the razor on the side of the dish, gently sliding it to the other side of him and switching his razor to his left hand. “Anyways. When I was your age I mostly did it ‘cause Ronnie did it. Helped with swimming, too. But as I got older…” He frowns. “As I got older, I started feeling like I had to, I guess. Like I was ugly if I didn’t.”

A pinprick of pain makes his hand still, lifting the blade from around his ankle. A tiny drop of blood swells at the base of it. He sets the razor down, quickly grabbing a towel and dabbing at the nick. Ankle wounds always bleed so much — it doesn’t even hurt anymore, but he can’t pull the towel away or he’ll stain the floor.

“…Do you feel that way now?”

Lance doesn’t answer for a long moment. He hears Pidge fidget, clicking her nails together. The blood finally slows enough for him to pull away the towel, and he resumes shaving the last half of his leg — much more slowly, this time.

“Not exactly,” he says carefully. “I recognize why I feel that way. I know where that pressure comes from, why it’s harmful. But it’s still…there. I still catch myself thinking cruel things; I have to spend a few minutes talking myself out of them. I tried stopping for about a year. I didn’t like it.”

He finally finishes swiping up the last line of soap, rinsing off his razor and then gently running a cold, wet cloth over his legs to get rid of any lingering suds.

“Do you think you’ll try to stop again?”

“Hm. I don’t think so. I like the feeling of smooth skin more than hairy skin, I’ve found. It’s nice on fresh sheets, plus sometimes hair tickles me and makes me jumpy. Plus, it’s easier to moisturize.”

“Ohhh,” Pidge says, and when Lance looks up there’s a real look of understanding on her face — not the practiced one she puts on when she doesn’t actually get something but doesn’t want to look dumb. “Like — it’s the same as why you don’t like jeans and socks.”

Lance smiles. “Exactly. I’d walk around in nothing but shorts and a big t-shirt, if I had the choice.” Legs clean and clean-shaven, he picks up his tube of lotion and starts dabbing dollops all over the skin. “That’s all I ever wore back home.”

“Arizona is freezing half the time!”

“Cuba,” Lance reminds her.

“Oh yeah,” she says again. “But what about when it rained?”

Lance shrugs. “Better to wear flip flops and get wet feet than wet socks. Wet socks are the worst.”

“Yeah.” She shudders. “Like prickly sweaters.”

He hums. The lotion smells like juniberries, which kind of smells like pineapple and hibiscus mixed with a strange, almost spicy scent. Not quite home, but close enough to be nice.

He doesn’t ask Pidge why she broke into his room while he was in the showers and sat in the dark waiting for him to get back. The same way he doesn’t press when she follows him down the halls, disappearing behind corners when he turns to look, or sits by his feet during movie night. He lets her be prickly with affection and learns to hear the undercurrent in her constant comments and rambles, learns to read her questions about every thing he does as curious rather than judgemental.

She would ice him out for weeks if he said it out loud, but there was this stray cat that lived near his house, when he was young. It hissed and spit and clawed if you came halfway near it; Mamá had forbidden him from trying in case it was sick. But he used to leave out water for it at night and sometimes even sneak Abuelo’s heating pad, and every once in a while it would let Lance sit near it without clawing him. Once it even attacked one of the older kids who used to chase him after school.

It’s no coincidence that Pidge always happens to be in the same room as him 90% of the time. Or that she can guess his passcode easily.

“Hey, Pidgeon,” he says, unwrapping the towel from his hair and starting to work in the leave in conditioner. “The lockcode on my snack drawer is the same as the room code. Just so you know.”

She stares at him for several minutes.

Her mouth twitches.

“I could have figured that out myself.”

“I know.”

“You’re weird.”

He smiles. “You too, nerd.”

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poppy-metal · 2 years

Note

I can’t explain it but my brainworms are brainworming. i love love love love the idea of virgin!Eddie Munson and what it would be like to take his virginity.

I can just picture being a popular girl in school and having a crush on Eddie for a while (unknowing to the fact Eddies been damn near obsessed with you for years) but not quite knowing how to seduce him. You ask to buy drugs off of him and say you want to meet at his trailer, his uncle Wayne isn’t home and he’s just trying to turn this out like a regular drug deal but you out the moves on him and he’s just so god damn confused. Asking you a million times if you’re sure.

Once you get to banging he’s, surprising, really good. He’s fucking you like it’s his last day on earth because to him he doesn’t know if he’s ever going to get another chance to do this. His bangs are sticking to his forehead sweat and his eyes are entirely blissed out as he huffs and moans and mumbles praise. He keeps repeating things like “I don’t know why you’re letting me do this” “I’m the luckiest motherfucker on earth” while you’re just clawing at his shoulders as he fucks you into his mattress. He cums with a strangled moan and buries his face in your neck and you can just hear him breathlessly chanting “thank you, thank you, thank you”

"i don't know why you're letting me do this." punched me in the gut. he is just. so thankful? that someone so pretty and soft and sweet is letting his cock slide into their cunt, letting him fuck you on his squeaky mattress. hes brainless over it.

something about his adoration and his eagerness, his utter readiness to be dirty, makes the sex already better than any you've ever had before. has your toes curling in the air as you grip his back and moan for him to go harder, "s'okay eddie, feels good- you're doing so good- god, i love your cock-"

hearing him whine and slam into you faster, knocking you up the bed with his thrusts. his balls slapping against your soaked ass. "you're unreal-" he gasps. "m'so glad you're my first. so fucking lucky- oh my god-"

and fuck if that isn't an ego boost. makes you dig your nails in harder and coo up at him to really get him going. "yeah, baby? how's the first pussy you're gonna cum in, hm? you like it?"

hes delirious when he nods, choking on words as he gives up and sloppily mouths at your neck. you twine your hands through his sweaty locks as you wind your legs tight around him, anchor his waist to you, so his thrusts are shorter pulls, more like deep ruts into your heated core. god, his cock is fat.

"mhm." he whimpers, lazily sucking your throat. you let him. he needs it, you think. as much as you need to hold onto him and wrap around him like a vine leeching his warmth into yours. he thrusts and your bodies both move together up the bed, chests bare and slick and gliding against eachothers. his necklace scrapes against your nipples, the warm metal making you sigh. you want it in your mouth. "feels so good. feels-" he stops likes hes trying to find words, then you feel him shudder and he just blurts whatevers on his mind, clearly unable to think properly. "-so warm and tight. uhnn- m'gonna cum."

you squeeze around him just to hear his breath hitch. "Inside." you wrap your legs so tightly around him he can barely pull out at all, your ankles crossing at his back, locking him in. "wanna feel that virgin cock cum inside me."

its probably the cruelest thing you could say to him then. he jerks above you, his whole body trembling at the words. his hands grip the sheets on either side of your head in a death grip, pulling the ends off the mattress, but neither of you give a shit about a made bed right now.

his balls smack wetly against your ass again, grind there and you feel them twitch against your asshole, full and soft and heavy.

"you're-" he shakes his head. "you're a wicked p-person. jesus christ- fuck. im coming. holy shit- oh, you feel so good. you feel so fucking good on my cock-"

you feel the warm spurt of his cum coating your walls as he twitches and sags against you, moaning into your neck as he rocks his hips in little desperate grinds to work the cum deeper into your cunt. hes a fast learner. already knows how to feed your little hungry hole his cum.

"mmm." you sigh, like a happy cat.

#ask #hehe #eddie spaghetti #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader

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kingdomhate · 2 months

Text

Cuddling Them Scenarios!

Kylo Ren: The Order had kept him busy for a long time, and although he did not like it, it meant the world to him you were patient with him. However, on a particularly bad day for him, when nothing seemed to go his way, he came back to you, not caring of his hateful attitude, until he did. You asked him a couple questions like, "What's wrong?" and "What happened at work today, sweetie?" and he had told you he didn't wish to speak about it, but you still pushed, out of concern. You couldn't make it better unless you knew what it was.

But it annoyed him, and he snapped at you, "Jesus, are you fucking deaf, Y\N?! I told you to leave it!" And you immediately shut up, leaving the room to deal with the incoming tears threatening to flood your face. At first, Kylo just stayed silent and sat himself on the couch, dealing with his anger himself, but after a few moments of gathering himself, he could hear the soft and muffled cries of you sobbing and it struck him like a ton of bricks. He should not have spoken to you like that. You, his beloved sweetheart, he yelled at you. When you tried to help him.

"Y\N... baby, that wasn't me, you know that. I didn't mean to treat you like that, you don't deserve it. I just had a bad day, Snoke wasn't too cooperative... Honey, let me in. I'll make it up to you." You sniffled, and sighed, wiping the tears as you approached the door and opened it, allowing him a good look at your eyes red and puffy with the tears and he felt his heart break. He wraps his arms around you, squishing you against his warm chest and scoops you up, leading you to the bed and wrapping a few (thousand) blankets around you as he keeps his arms securely around your waist, pulling you against him. "I love you, you know that?" He whispers against your ear.

Anakin Skywalker: After finding out he was not granted the rank of master but a seat on the council, he needed to sulk about it. That night when he went home to you, he fell into your awaiting arms, ready to welcome him after a long, rough day. He sighed against your neck, lazily wrapping his arms around your waist, his golden brown hair falling into his eyes, but that did not matter, all that mattered was your embrace. Oh, how he craved your embraces.

"Cuddle me. Let me sleep with you." He asked with a tone of tiredness. You nod and lead him to the bed, laying on it with him and cradling him, his head on your chest, running your hands through his sun-touched golden locks. He lets out a content hum and pressing his long fingers to your other hand stationed on his arm, he intertwined your fingers together, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles. His eyelashes flutter a bit, signaling he's falling asleep. You smile to yourself, satisfied at the way you could practically lull Ani to sleep. But also because the reward, the sight of seeing him asleep so soundly, so peacefully, it's a pride thing for sure.

Luke Skywalker: It was the end of the day and you found yourselves in his bedroom, with him bent over your hands, his sandy brown hair draping over his face as he fixates on the task of painting your nails. "You're going to love it, Y\N. I'm almost done!" He says, as he finishes painting your pinky, blowing on it before moving away, flipping his hair out of his oceanic blue eyes. "So, whatcha think?" He asks with a glittering smile, crossing his legs and resting his cheek on both of his hands.

You bring your hands to your face, gazing at the color and letting out a breathy chuckle. "Wow! How did you learn to do this so good?" You raise an eyebrow. He shrugs. "I had a good teacher." He smiles, nudging your arm. You beam at him. "Come here." You say, beckoning him closer, he leans in forward, more and more until... Your lips meet, a soft, dreamy sigh escapes his lips, reaching up to cup your cheek lightly in his hand. His eyes close as he feels his head spin.... you were so gorgeous, so sweet, so kind and patient... like a dream. A dream in which he has been fantasizing and romanticizing about for countless days on nights. A release from the scorching heat of the Tatooine suns beating down on him as he works hard at the Harvest, desperate for an escape. And then came you. His escape.

His hands move to wrap around your waist and pull you down backwards on the bed, careful of your newly polished nails to not get smudged as he rests his head in between the crook of your neck. You go along with it, letting out a sigh as you relax into the mattress and embrace, wrapping your legs around his waist, as he strokes your hair, his breathing slowing more and more.

Obi-Wan Kenobi: Obi-Wan had just come back from a mission. The first thing on his mind? You, the Council and a good, long warm bath. He steers his ship to the Temple, hopping out and treading to communicate his findings and results to the Masters. Once he was finished, he tiredly hopped back into his ship and navigated to your guys' house. He climbed out, pulled his hood down and took his robes off, hanging them on his lower arm. "Y\N? I'm back, princess." He calls, as he gazes around, wondering where you've gone. Until you came running from seemingly nowhere and jumping on him, yelling, "Obi!"

He grunts as the wind is knocked out of him, but instinctively wraps his arms tightly and securely around your waist, chuckling a bit as he presses a kiss to your forehead. "Hey." You kiss his cheek and then lips. "Come on, I've got a surprise for you!" You slid off of his body, and lead him to the kitchen, a meal you've cooked for him sitting on a plate, and he can see the steam wafting off of it. "And I'll get the bath running." You say, dashing off to turn on the faucet, applying slightly hot water, and ordering the shampoo, conditioner, body wash and even a bath bomb in order for him.

You come back out to see him damn near finished with the food and a loud laugh ripples through both of your throats at the sight of your faces. "The bath's running." You tell him, skipping to get behind him and rubbing his back soothingly, he groans and relaxes. He finishes the plate and lets you lead him into the water, undressing him slowly, and helping him in. "Come here." Obi-Wan smiles at you, his blue eyes almost pleading as he outstretching his hand to you. With a grin, you undress and hop in in front of him, and he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you against his warm chest as he pressed kisses to your neck and dabbed water on both of your bodies. "

#star wars #fluff #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker #obi wan x reader #obi wan kenobi #luke skywalker #luke skywalker x reader #hope you enjoy #this is a mood ugh

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hotluncheddie · 1 year

Text

stop being a goblin and let me kiss you

part 3

˚✧₊⁎ ⁎⁺˳✧༚ ⁎⁺˳✧༚

‘ok. ok! you just, you just gotta be cool munson. be casual. chill. just like, vibe, yeah? yeah. no more funny business.’ eddie holds his fists up to himself in the dinky bathroom mirror. a couple of jabs, a quick one two, that’ll clear his head.

clear his head enough to go out and deal with steve fucking harrington again and his stupid stupid face and neck and tongue and like pretty fucking ankle bones. fucker.

see eddies not blind, and he’s not that dumb, he knows he flirts with steve and he knows steve flirts back. he just. cant deal with it just yet. it’s like every time he’s around the guy he blacks out and resurfaces red faced and half hard. but the point at which his vision fades and all hell breaking loose seems to vary so completely that he can’t stop it happening.

their conversations will start normal, a jolly lark, a guffaw here, a story there but then bam! someone said or did something that shifted his functioning brain capacity from 60% on a good day to like -5% and that’s being generous.

he just can’t get his ratty little self to either 1) stop liking steve harrington in a gay, gay, homosexual way. or 2) accept that someone like steve harrington could possibly like aforementioned rat himself eddie munson and actually process his feeling into a reaction that’s more than; red, red, half a boner, sweaty palms, red.

so he took a second to hide in the bathroom. that’s fine, that’s kind even. self care, as robin likes to say when she paints her nails on top of steve’s head when he sits on the computer at work. he likes to make the chair super low because apparently it helps his posture and he need to keep an eye on his posture or else he’ll end up like his great uncle melvin, or something.

self care time is over however because robins knocking on the little bathroom door, hollering about needing to get home to practice for her english presentation tomorrow. so it’s time for eddie to put his big boy pants back on and get in steve’s car.

eddie full body shudders.

‘finish writing you sad boy poems on the stall walls in there? roses are red, violets are blue, i like big dumb jock boys but can’t seem to accept they like me too, even if my very cool very in the know friend robin tells me too. hm?’ robin slings an arm over his shoulder and steers him back to the table.

eddie sniffs, crossing his arms ‘that last bit doesn’t rhyme so, i will be ignoring all of it. F for u buckbey.’

‘not everything has to rhyme perfectly u know. it can still fit together just fine as it is.’ she tugs on one of his curls before slipping back into steve side, finishing off the last of his milkshake and hauling him out of the booth because she ‘has shit to do dingus.’

too smart for her own good that chick. eddie loves her. he’s also going to move away and never talk to her ever again, maybe steal her collection of berets too, become a hat guy, once he reinvents himself. yeah.

steve is putting a few bills on the table, slinging his jacket over his shoulder. ‘just fries tonight ed’s? that makes you kind of a cheap date don’t you think?’ tapping eddie under the chin before following robin to the door, smacking his palm on the frame above on the way out. because of course he does, the neanderthal. all broad shoulders and biceps and ass.

there a second where eddie thinks steve could smack him like that but then he feels his vision spotting. can a guy not catch a break around here? jesus!

the car ride is a blissful reprieve due to cyndi lauper coming on, which had steve and robin performing a duet. which then needed to be tweaked and discussed in detail ready for the next time that specific song came on the radio.

it was honestly nice to watch. eddie had walked to family video that day because his van keeps playing up after it’s stint hidden in the woods. poor girl just needs a day off once in a while so eddie walks and then listens to car duets from two very much none singers. but it nice. makes his heart all yucky and warm.

until robin is leaving. leaving him alone to be a big nerd with a future. leaving him alone to make a fool of himself again. his ego is big and he likes to keep it that way.

‘you coming up here then’ steve shifts slightly, looking as far as he can over his shoulder at eddie huddled behind the drivers seat. ‘no’ he squeaks because last time steve got all up in his face getting his tape box out of the glove compartment. rifling through it while it was on eddies lap. so close eddie could smell the apple from his shampoo and the cigarette they’d shared earlier.

self care.

‘ooh you want the full harington taxi service do you? i see, well then govna, where too is it?’ steve tips his invisible cap and has the most awful cockney accent eddies ever heard, and he did middle school theatre.

‘geeze, just take me home dude.’ eddie shoves through the gap between the seats, landing heavy in the passenger. crossing his arms and trying to hide his smile behind his hair.

‘there he is. out of the shadows.’ steve tucks some of his curls behind his ear. eddie sees the soft smile out of his peripheral. tries to swallow the cotton in his mouth. steve turn back to the road ‘let’s rock ‘n roll’ he revvs the engine, wiggling his eyebrows, before checking his blind spot and pulling away into a cushy 30mph.

eddie looks out the window and hides his grin in his palm.

˚✧₊⁎ ⁎⁺˳✧༚ ⁎⁺˳✧༚

part 1 (eddie) part 2 (steve) part 4 (steve) part 5 (eddie) part 6 (steve) part 7 (eddie)

tags! ( ty for asking to be tagged wow so lovely can’t believe it hehe :3c ) (sry if i missed anyone or u didn’t want to be tagged just let me know!)

@bidisastersworld @sadcanadianwinter @mightbeasleep @butterflysandpeppermint @gregre369 @fandomz-brainrot @satan-is-obsessed @resident-gay-bitch @grtwdsmwhr @forsexyscience

#steddie #steve x eddie #my silly silly boys #cocky steve #eddie and robin are besties it’s tru its tru #<3 #hotlunch #my fic #stop being a goblin and let me kiss you

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eddiemunsons80sbaby · 3 months

Text

Don't Touch What's Mine

Pairing: GatorxReader

Summary: You're sick of Gator's shit so you decide to make him jealous and it works. Maybe a little too well.

Word Count: 4K

18+ Only

Stepping into The Drunken Duck felt like stepping back in time, to a time when lawlessness was the norm. When gambling, drunken rages, and prostitution were just accepted as a part of everyday life. When a man would pop in for a drink and get a fuck on the side after a long day breaking his back in the sun working on the railroad.

At least that was what Jimmy, the owner, would like you to feel when you entered his bar. Everything inside screamed the Wild West from the batwing doors you had to push through after entering the main door to the old oil paintings that adorned the walls. You personally found it a bit tacky, wishing there was somewhere a bit more modern in town but beggars couldn’t be choosers where you lived.

Besides, you were on a mission tonight and your target was just across the room, shooting a game of pool with some of his fellow officers. The gang, not dissimilar to a group of lawmen from the 1800s, flashing their badges around, running the town the way they saw fit, bending the law to their will and breaking it just as often as they upheld it. When your daddy was the sheriff, you could do pretty much anything you wanted and Gator used that to his advantage in the worst way.

Hazel eyes lifted, roaming over every single inch of you, from the make-up you’d so carefully applied, to the cleavage spilling out of your tight red top, to the miles of leg bared underneath the tiny black skirt. One side of his mouth curved, a mixture of a smirk and a sneer. Oh, you’d chosen this outfit specifically for tonight but it wasn’t for him. It was for the first attractive guy you could find so he could watch and seethe with jealousy at how easy it was for you to move on.

With a roll of your eyes, you turned your body, heading directly for the bar. You were beyond sick of his bullshit, stringing you along, excuse after excuse why you couldn’t take things to the next step. His words from the other night came back to you, “I’m just not a one woman man, darling. I mean, look at me. It would be selfish to not share this. I’m doing the Lord’s work.”

Jesus Christ. He could be such a fucking prick. He thought he could have anything he wanted with no repercussions. He thought he could take and take without ever giving anything in return. It really was no wonder with who his father was. Sheriff Tillman walked around like he owned the town and that was because he did. No one questioned him. No one told him no. They were too scared. Everybody in this town knew exactly what happened when you crossed Roy Tillman.

But you weren’t scared of Gator. No. He put on a tough guy face but you knew he was really just a scared little boy who worked way too damn hard for Daddy’s approval. You’d seen right through the hard shell to the creamy center in the middle and it had scared him. That was the real reason he was keeping you at a distance. He couldn’t handle anything that threatened the tough guy image he projected to the world.

“Hey there doll,” Stacy called out from behind the bar, placing a small cocktail napkin in front of you. “What are you having tonight?”

“Gin and tonic with lime.”

“You got it.” She scooped ice into a highball glass, grabbing the bottle of gin, tilting her head behind you. “You and Gator not together tonight?”

Lips pursed, red nails tapping on the wood of the bar, you snorted, “There is no me and Gator. I don’t think there ever was. He’s just a little boy playing at being a man. I’m done with his bullshit.”

“That why you got the girls on full display tonight?” she teased, pulling the nozzle to the glass to add the tonic. “Because you’re done with him?”

“Maybe they’re on display for someone else.”

“Ahh, I see. You know, that’s a dangerous game my friend.”

“What?”

“Making a man like that jealous. Gator’s got a trigger hair temper and an actual trigger to pull. You could be setting some poor man up to not make it home tonight.”

“Trust me, he doesn’t care enough to shoot some poor guy for talking to me.”

“That must be why his eyes keep creeping over here, because he doesn’t care,” chuckled Stacy, sliding the glass to you with a wink before moving down the bar to another customer.

Whatever. Stacy didn’t know what she was talking about. Gator was not going to shoot anybody. He might punch someone but only if he actually cared enough that you were talking to someone else. And based on the way he’d been acting lately, you didn’t see that happening. No. You just wanted him to see that you didn’t need him. You didn’t need those hazel eyes that darkened as he hovered above you or those full lips that would torment you until your thighs quaked or that thick cock that stretched you, filling you up until he was all you could feel. Absolutely not.

Fuck. Your thighs pressed together in an attempt to quell the ache throbbing in your center, your lips wrapping around your straw in the hopes that the cold liquid would cool the sudden burning inside you. Just the thought of him had you worked up. He might be a prick but he was a damn good lay.

“Excuse me? Is anyone sitting here?”

You turned your head to find a man smiling at you, his palm up toward the stool next to yours. Well…lucky for you he was an attractive man, exactly what you’d come in here looking for tonight. Ocean blue eyes, sandy blond hair, a sharp jawline, and a physique that filled out his black tee quite well.

With a flirty smile, you tilted your head, “No. Please, join me.”

Grin widening, a mouth full of bright white teeth, he hopped onto the stool, extending his hand.

“Jack.”

“Well, hello Jack.”

“And you are?”

“I’m whoever you want me to be for the night,” you teased, slipping your straw between your lips. You weren’t looking for a friend and you certainly weren’t looking for anything serious. You just wanted fun, something to help you forget the bullshit that was Gator Tillman, and possibly to piss him off a little in the process. Judging by the intense prickle that was running up your spine, letting you know his eyes were on you, it was working.

“You really going to make this that easy for me, sweetheart?” he asked and you didn’t miss how his eyes moved down to your chest, tongue running over his bottom lip. Oh yeah, he would definitely do.

“Are you complaining?”

“Not at all. I just thought I might have to work a bit. You know, a little conversation, buy you a couple drinks, possibly some food.”

“Well, ain’t this your lucky night. I happen to be in the mood for some fun. That’s what I came here to find and I think you’ll do just fine.” Leaning forward, your eyes slid to the side, finding Gator propped against the wall, arms folded over his chest, eyes glued on the two of you. “You can’t tell me that wasn’t your intention when you came over here.”

“Oh,” growled Jack, palm coming to your thigh, fingertips pressing into your flesh, his body moving into you, mouth next to your ear, “it was. I mean, the way you’re advertising yourself made it pretty hard to resist.”

“Oh yeah?” You smirked, half of your attention on Jack’s voice in your ear, letting you know exactly how hot he thought you were, and half of your attention on Gator who looked like he wanted to rip Jack’s head right off his body.

Maybe you were playing a dangerous game but your panties were already damn near soaked, your skin practically vibrating with the sight of him looking like this man was just his understudy. Looking like he wouldn’t hesitate to get his knuckles bloody to keep this man from touching you. Maybe it was dangerous but fuck if it wasn’t fun.

“So, what do you say?” asked Jack, bringing you back to the conversation, realizing you had no idea what he’d asked.

“Say about what?” “Getting out of here?” His palm slid further up your leg, cresting the hem of your skirt. “I have a…”

But what he had you never got to know because a large hand slammed into his shoulder, knocking him off the stool. He collided with the one next to it and then hit the floor, crying out in a mixture of shock and pain before looking up angrily at who had just hit him.

“What the hell, man!?” yelled Jack.

Gator loomed over him and you secretly thrilled at the sight. Anger coursed through him, his eyes dark and threatening, his chest rising and falling heavily, that sneer permanently etched as he looked in disgust at the man who’d just had his hands on you.

“Get the fuck out of this bar,” he ground out, teeth bared menacingly, finger pointing at the door.

Jack scrambled to his feet, stepping into Gator, clearly oblivious to who exactly he was going toe to toe with. The rest of the bar was silent, nothing to be heard but for the quiet hum of the football game in the background, everyone waiting to see what happened because they knew exactly who this naive man was dealing with.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” huffed Jack, puffing out his chest.

Gator smirked, his torso leaning in, invading Jack’s space as his hand dropped to the holster on his thigh. “I think I’m the law of this town so you should do exactly as I say. Now, here’s what’s going to happen. First, you’re going to apologize for touching what’s mine. Then you’re going to leave and you’re never even so much going to look at her again. Do you hear me?”

Jack’s eyes widened as he caught sight of the gun that was practically a part of Gator now. He never went anywhere without it whether he was on duty or not. Raising both of his hands, he took a step back, a nervous laugh falling from his mouth.

“Look, man. I didn’t know she was yours. This was just a misunderstanding.”

“And?” Gator brought a hand next to his ear. “I’m not hearing the apology. You know it’s not good manners to try to take what isn’t yours without asking.”

“Sorry. I’m sorry, okay? I won’t…man, you won’t have to worry about me. I was just passing through town anyway. I’ll be gone in a few days.”

“No, you’ll be gone now.” Each step that Jack took toward the door, backing away, Gator followed. “You’re gonna get in your car and drive the fuck out of my town and don’t believe that sign on your way past the city limits. Don’t come back soon or ever.”

“Yeah, alright. I’m gone.”

Jack fled from the bar as if it were on fire, tripping over his own feet to get out the door and away from the menacing eyes of Gator. You sat, swirling your straw through your drink, as he turned those eyes on you, smiling amusedly.

Hands on his hips, his head rocked back and forth as he took slow steps toward you, “Think you’re cute, don’t you, honey?”

You tilted your head, lips pouting, “Jack sure thought so.”

“Oh, I know he did. I saw the way he was touching you. But then you come in here dressed like a little slut and what did you expect? You want me to see that? Is that what this little show was? Trying to make me jealous?”

“I wasn’t trying to do anything but if I was, it clearly worked.”

He laughed harshly, “You are such a fucking brat, you know that? What the hell you think you’re doing letting some other guy paw at you like that, huh?” His hands, large hands, thick fingers that knew every inch of your body intimately, landed on either side of the bar, pinning you on your stool. He bent forward, nose brushing over yours. “You’re mine, honey. You know that.”

“I’m not anybody’s,” you snapped, swallowing hard, your body and brain at war with each other. “I am not one of your fucking horses. You don’t have a brand on me, Gator. I can fuck whoever I want.”

Lightning fast, one of those hands left the bar, slipping under your skirt to cup your heat. A whimper slipped past your lips, your hips rocking toward him.

“Yeah, she knows exactly who she belongs to, doesn’t she?” he grinned, one finger slipped under the edge of your panties, parting your lips. “So wet already, darling. Now get that tight little ass out that door and in my car.”

Sense pushed through the haze of lust that Gator was quickly stirring up in you and placing both hands on his chest, you shoved him, hard. It wasn’t an easy feat but you managed to back him up just enough to hop off the stool.

“Go to hell, Gator. You don’t want me. You just don’t want anyone else to have me. You’re such a goddamn hypocrite,” you seethed, remembering all the times he pushed you away, all the hurtful words he’d said. “Look at all the other ladies in this bar. Can’t be selfish now. Got to spread yourself around, right?”

You grabbed your purse and a hand locked around your wrist, yanking you into his chest. You gasped, looking up into eyes that had now softened, melting into warm whiskey and lush green forests. Those eyes that had fooled you, that had convinced you that maybe, just maybe, there was something worth fighting for behind that damn tough guy mask he wore.

“Darling, go get in the fucking car.”

“No!” you protested, trying to pull away but his hold was too tight and you had no hope of breaking it.

“I’m not gonna say it again and we ain’t gonna do this here.” His arms locked around your legs, hefting you over his shoulder like a sack of Idaho potatoes.

“Gator! Put me down!” you yelled, slamming your fists into his back, kicking your feet uselessly as he strolled out of the bar and around the back. “Jesus! What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“What the fuck is wrong with me?” he huffed, dropping you to your feet. The minute you made a move to step away, his hands covered the brick to the sides of you, his body pressing into you, pinning you against the back of the building. “What the fuck is wrong with you? You obviously wanted my attention and now you’ve got it.”

“I don’t want anything from you.”

“Oh no?” Then his hand was under your skirt again, fingers bypassing the slip of silk as if it was nothing, sliding through your slick and pressing into your heat. A moan you couldn’t have stopped if you tried escaped you and he grinned, teeth pressing into the flesh of his lower lip. “You telling me you don’t want that? How about this?” You gasped as he curled his fingers within you. “Funny. I don’t hear you protesting.”

“I hate you,” you growled, grinding down against his hand.

“You don’t have to like me, darling, but you’re still fucking mine, you hear me? Coming in here with those tits hanging out.” His other hand dragged your shirt down, exposing you to the cool night air. His large palm covered your breast, kneading the flesh, squeezing roughly while his thumb ran over your clit, his fingers still driving you to the brink of madness. “These beautiful fucking tits are mine.”

His head dropped, lips trying to capture yours and you snapped at him, attempting to bite. Maybe you’d fuck him but you weren’t kissing him. You were still pissed. A rumbling laugh shook his body as he tilted his head in amusement.

“Feisty little kitty tonight, aren’t ya? Guess I’ll have to put my mouth to better use.”

Lips latched onto your nipple, sucking hard, tongue flicking over the hardened peak, and fuck, you hated him. You hated him so much but it felt so damn good. He was just so damn good at making you lose touch with reality, forgetting every single reason that he was a bad idea. Because right now he didn’t feel like a bad idea. Nothing about him felt bad because it was just too damn good. His teeth raked over your nipple and your hand flew up to cover your mouth, muffling the shriek that clawed its way up your throat.

“Uh-uh…none of that,” he ordered, dragging your hand away from your face. “I want you screaming, honey. I want you to fucking scream my name so no one ever mistakes who you belong to again.” His nose traced the line of your jaw, his fingers slamming into you punishingly while his thumb dragged over your sensitive bundle of nerves. Your legs shook, hands clinging to his shoulders, breath coming out in short, sharp gasps. “Yeah? You hate me but ain’t nobody can make you come as hard as I can. You know why? Because I’m a winner.” That nose traced up your throat until his lips were at your ear. “Now come for me, darling, and let everyone know who’s making you feel this fucking good.”

He bit down on your earlobe and you screamed, fingers clawing at his shirt as your entire body shook with the force of the kind of orgasm only Gator had ever given you.

Strong hands on your arms spun your body, pressing your front against the building. He hiked your skirt roughly up to your waist. You heard the clang of his belt buckle, the slide of his zipper, and then the tip of his cock was dragging over your slit.

“Fuck…” he hissed as he pressed the tip in. “So wet and hot.”

You splayed your hands against the brick to keep your skin from rubbing up against it. Jaw dropping, eyes rolled up as he slammed into in one thrust, stretching you, filling you in the way only he could. He was so fucking thick. The first time you hadn’t been sure you could take him but take him you did and fuck if you hadn’t walked funny for a couple days after that.

“Who does this pussy belong to?” demanded Gator, slamming into you again and again, working out his aggression. He hated having his ego threatened and you’d done exactly that earlier. When you didn’t answer, his hand wrapped around your throat, pressing your back against his front. His other hand roughly grabbed onto your breast, fingers pinching your nipple painfully, twisting as he hissed, “Don’t be a brat, not after the shit you pulled earlier. Who does this pussy belong to?”

“You,” you gasped, struggling against the lack of air as his hold on your throat tightened, fingertips pressing into your skin.

“Who do you belong to?”

“You…Gator…you…”

He released your throat and you sucked in a large lungful of air. Fingers wrapped in your hair, pulling it into his fist, yanking as he pistoned his cock into you. You grabbed onto his thighs, eyes rolling up and into your head, completely blown out with lust and desire.

“Yes, you’re fucking mine. Mine. Just mine,” he growled as he slammed into you over and over. “Playing fucking games, being such a little bitch. Just want to piss me off. But no more. Every inch of you is mine. No one else gets to touch this, you understand me?”

“Yes…yes…” you groaned.

“Shit, darling, I’m gonna…” He pulled out of you, spinning you around. “Get on your fucking knees.” You dropped down, gravel digging into your skin. His hand gripped his cock, pumping it. “That’s it. Gonna take all my cum like the dirty little whore you are, aren’t ya? Open that pretty mouth for me.” With a grunt he filled your throat with his release, head dropping back. Those eyes burned into yours, watching as you swallowed him down. “That’s my girl.”

Reaching out his hands in offering, you took them, and he guided you to your feet. You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, that familiar anxiety coiling up in your stomach because you were an idiot. You were right back where you started. Giving Gator exactly what he wanted and getting nothing in return. This entire night had been nothing but a shitshow. What had you been thinking?

“Come here, darling,” he crooned softly, pulling you into his chest, the soft and sweet side of him showing once again. “You know I want you, don’t ya?”

You looked away from him, eyes focused on the streetlight, not wanting him to see how badly you wanted that to be true. Somewhere in the plan that had been just good sex, you’d started to actually care for him and you knew you were pathetic for it. You didn’t need him to remind you.

“Hey, look at me,” urged Gator, finger pressing under your chin. “Let’s go back to my place, huh? Come spend the night with me.”

“No, that’s alright. I have to…”

“You have to what? It’s Saturday, darling. I know you ain’t got nothing to do tomorrow. You ain’t exactly the good little church girl.”

“But you’re the good little church boy.”

“I think my daddy can handle me missing one Sunday. Come on.”

“You’re an asshole.”

“I’ve been called worse things,” he laughed, smirking down at you and damn if you didn’t want to kiss him. “I know I’m an asshole but what were you thinking? You really thought I was gonna let some dickhead put his hands all over my girl?”

“And what does that mean exactly? Your girl? How many girls you got, Gator, since you unselfishly spread yourself around so much?” you demanded.

“Last count, I only had the one. Look, I’ve been a first class prick. I know that but darling, I…damn it. Can you just come back to my place? This shit is hard for me and you know it.”

“Yeah. I do. But history has shown me nothing ever changes so why should I?”

“Because I don’t want to ever see you with anyone else. I might have to shoot the next son of a bitch who has the balls to look at you,” Gator said with a teasing smile. “I can try, okay? I’m willing to try. You willing to give me the chance to try?”

Those eyes widened, burning you straight through to your center. Damn it. You were probably insane for even considering it. You were probably going to live to regret it but you wanted it. You wanted him. You didn’t know why. He was, by all accounts, a walking red flag, glaringly telling you he would never change but you wanted to be the one. The one he wanted to change for.

“Fine. I’ll give you a try but damn it, Gator, this is the last time. If some things don’t change. If you can’t give me something real, I’m done.”

“How’s this for real?” he grinned, hands cupping your ass as his lips crashed down onto yours.

#gator tillman #gator x reader #gator tillman x reader #gator tillman x y/n #smut #rough #fargo season 5 #fargo s5 #joe keery #gator tillman smut #gator tillman fic

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helloheyhihowdyheya · 1 year

Text

Something Special

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x gn!pilot!reader

Masterlist Part Two

Summary: “Oh, am I supposed to break orders just for you? Like you’re special or something?” OR You aren't sure where you stand with Rooster, but you know he didn't tell you that he might not make it back from the mission.

Word Count: ~1.7k

Warnings: Angst. Swearing. Sadness, some more angst

A/n: This one's pretty sad, I might do a part 2 to make up for it lol. I'm just a sucker for angsty Rooster though. I'd love to know your thoughts, thanks for reading! <3

The path your heavy footsteps took felt sickeningly familiar, your body knowing the way to his room with your eyes closed. Stalking through the barrack’s halls, you turned corners with only one thing plaguing your mind, torturing it.

Other pilots passed your reddening vision, ones that you might’ve smiled at on other days – but not today. Not even to Coyote still laying in the med bay you passed as he recovered from passing out. Not when your fist balled so tight your nails dug into your palm and your throat tightened with each step, threatening to choke you out before you ever made it.

You spotted his door, the one you’d knocked so quietly on for months now so no one would hear – only for him to kiss you breathless on the other side of it. But you didn’t bother to give him any warning this time. The hinges creaked as you threw the door open, screaming at you to stop before this all started. Your eyes found Rooster’s as he startled, sitting up from his bed with a hand on his chest.

“Jesus, you scared the shit out of–”

“Shut up,” you told him, almost relishing the way hurt flashed across his face. The door clicking closed behind you was the only thing accompanying your ragged breaths you couldn’t care to hide. “When were you going to tell me, Bradshaw?”

His eyebrows sunk together, his head tilting to the side. “Oh, of course. I’ll tell you right away about whatever vague thing you’re yelling at me about,” he said, his voice coming with a slight bite.

“You’re an ass. You know that?” You crossed your arms, gritting your teeth so hard your jaw began to ache.

He let out a disbelieving laugh as he stood. “And you’re a stubborn dick. Now that we’ve exchanged pleasantries, can you actually use your words and tell–”

“Are you going on a fucking suicide mission? Is it true?”

You already knew it was. But your face hardened, refusing to show him any emotion. Covering up the heart on your sleeve. Maybe you should’ve started this with honesty, that you were more hurt than angry, more scared than anything. But the deep ridges of your rage felt comfortable, right, for what he’d done to you. Or hadn’t done.

Rooster’s mouth opened and closed, his mustache twitching as he struggled to say anything. You just raised your eyebrows, waiting for him to tell you that somehow this was all a misunderstanding. You could handle looking like an idiot, but this? The truth? You weren’t so sure.

His hand dragged down his face, the brown of his eyes void of its usual warmth that you often sought out – passing in the halls, across the table in boring meetings, standing before your plane with your heart in your throat.

“Who told you?” he asked, looking everywhere but you. And his question brought a horrible realization in front of you, trickling down your spine alongside other secrets he kept from you.

“Rooster,” you gritted out, forcing your voice to stay steady. “When Coyote couldn’t fly, and they were looking for someone to replace him… did my name ever come up?”

The silence left between you two vibrated, buzzing so hard it ached in your chest. “Tell me you didn’t talk to Maverick, or Cyclone for christ’s sake, and convince them not to pick me.” Too many moments passed, his face unyielding and so unlike the man you’d come to know. When he didn’t answer, just shifted his body from one foot to the other, you tiredly whispered out, “Bradley…”

“Who told you? The mission is confidential.” Rooster moved toward you, his jaw hard set and ticking. You weren’t on the mission – thanks to him apparently – but with being at the same base, you’d found opportunities to get bits and pieces out of Hangman and Maverick. The fact that Rooster didn’t tell you though weighed heavier on your mind.

“Is that why you didn’t tell me? Because it’s confidential?” you spit out, voice mocking. It was a valid reason, but he told you everything against your lips, bodies facing one another on his too-small bed in between dusk and dawn.

He came closer still, angry breaths filling the space between you two as his eyes refused to leave yours now. “Oh, am I supposed to break orders just for you? Like you’re special or something?”

That made you pause, the first time you’d done so since learning the news. Your gaze unfocused, drifting down until they fell on his hands. Hands you had once trusted to hold you despite everything else going on – now they merely looked like a stranger’s. Had you so badly misunderstood where you fit into his life?

With a sad laugh, you shook your head as you thought out loud, “Yeah, guess I thought so. Especially when you’re going off to get yourself killed.”

A groan came from the back of his throat. “I… this is bigger than us. I just–”

“It’s fine,” you told him, raising your hands up in surrender. As you stepped back, you could’ve sworn his fingers twitched, shifted toward you just an inch. “It was my mistake.” Your voice came out as a whisper when you opened the door, letting it close behind you softly. Biting the inside of your cheek, you didn’t let tears fall until you made it back to your bed, alone.

–

You didn’t hear the news from Rooster, that he’d been chosen to go on the mission. No, you’d picked up on it as the whole base seemed to come alive as the day neared. And he stood at the center of it. You’d done your best to avoid him and his usual routine that you had memorized just to sneak spare moments together here and there.

Time you might have had to yourself was spent in the gym, or anywhere but your room in case he decided to come by. You knew he hadn’t though, not with the mission hanging over his head.

It wasn’t until the morning of the flight that you saw Rooster again in the hallway outside the locker rooms – you on your way in to change for a workout, him on his way out, carrying his flight gear.

“Oh,” you said, stepping back so you didn’t bump into his chest. You stared at his helmet, the design on it so him. And all you could do was focus on your even breathing as he cleared his throat.

“Wasn’t expecting you here,” he said, his voice void of the anger it had before.

“Could say the same.” You still kept the grit to your words, unable to let them go as he stood there before you – ready to go on a mission he wouldn’t let you take.

Rooster nodded, pursing his lips. “I, uh, couldn’t wait around. Too many nerves, so I got ready early. Before we head out on the aircraft carrier.”

“I know how that is,” you breathed out, knowing you should offer him some sort of reassurance. But couldn’t he offer the same? Give you something to hold onto besides hope. Hope. As if that could make you feel any less helpless standing back here while he soared above. Alone.

You nearly couldn’t take the silence crackling between your bodies, hanging much too heavy on your already aching shoulders. Picking at your nails, you were about to wish him luck when he spoke up.

“I’m sorry.”

“For what, exactly?” you asked, voice tight as you stared at and through him.

You saw the way his jaw ticked for just a brief moment before he let out a long breath. “For not telling you the truth… about everything.”

Trying to focus on the grounding feeling of your arms crossing over your chest, you whispered, “But you’d do it again if given the chance, wouldn’t you, Rooster?”

His chest heaved when he answered, “Yes, baby, I would.”

And you couldn’t stop the scoff that escaped your mouth – at the pet name, at his answer, at everything he seemed to stand for.

“Were you trying to protect me from danger, or were you protecting yourself from this?” you asked, gesturing between the two of you. “That fear you’d have of me flying up there, of getting my chance to be more, is what I now have to live with. Maybe forever if you don’t come bac–”

“I’m coming back, okay?” You stared him down like you didn’t believe him, and you weren’t sure he believed it himself.

Shaking your head, you gritted out, “And if I had gone on this flight, said this exact BS you’re trying to tell me, you wouldn’t have batted an eye? Bradley, you’re a fucking hypocrite and you’re god damn scared.”

“Of course I’m scared!” he shouted, moving forward until his body pressed against yours. “Maybe I don’t make it back, but you will. You’ll be here, and you can keep living.”

His anger seethed from him, his throat straining. Still, you pressed your hands against his chest, pushing him back. “Or it could be you here, on the ground and safe. Since when do you get to choose who lives and who dies?”

“Since I lost my fucking parents, that’s when. If I have the chance to stop from losing another person I love, I’m going to take it,” he said, ripping your hands from him. His eyes, now turned dark and pupils large, moved frantically across your face.

Your stomach sank, dropping down, down, down and turning to stone. “Don’t,” you whispered, the corners of your eyes beginning to sting no matter how much you begged them to quiet, to dry, to shove any emotion away.

“I…” he stammered, reaching out to grab you again. “It’s true, I love you.”

Gritting your teeth, you turned your head away. “Don’t, Bradley. You don’t get to do this to me.” Tears finally spilled over and onto your cheeks. The feeling that this conversation was a goodbye seeped through your skin, settling into your bones.

“Please,” he begged, grasping onto your arms. Maybe you loved him too, maybe that’s where your unyielding rage stemmed from as he caused you this pain. But you wouldn’t let that hurt you, not when him dying would kill you.

You grabbed his hands, giving them a final squeeze. “Good luck up there.” The look of his tearful face as you backed away wouldn’t leave your mind, not when you refused to leave your room until you were sure Rooster was gone.

@reidslovely

#rooster x reader #rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #top gun maverick #top gun angst #rooster top gun

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blurblurdeactivated · 2 years

Text

▬❝ i love you. ❞

kinktober; day 1, praise kink ⟶ [soldier boy x fem!reader] // kinktober taglist

warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, explicit content obvi, swearing, p in v sex, praise kink, slight degradation, use of 'slut'

kinktober masterlist - day 2, thigh riding, ft. matt murdock

He was already fucking you to the edge of sanity. Long past the point of cognitive thought, all you could do was dig your nails into his back, ankles already locked around his waist, moaning for him like it was your life’s purpose. It was hard to comprehend Soldier Boy continuously slamming himself in your sopping cunt any harder or any faster than he was already. And it wasn’t as if you intended to set him off. You didn’t even think about them, the words falling from your lips before you could catch them.

“God, I love you.”

He hadn’t been quiet before, but the sinful groan he let out as you spoke was distinctly different from his previous grunts and expletives. He snapped his hips into yours just that bit quicker too. The practised, consistent thrust of his hips that made your rationality drip out of your pussy was replaced by him stuffing his thick cock into you with fierce abandon. Sobering slightly, you became acutely aware of just how much raw strength he was holding back.

“Again,” he growled, calloused fingers digging into the meat of your waist, “say it again.”

“I- ugh, I love you.” He was the only thing you could feel. Hot, hard, fast. Everywhere. “Ah, fuck, Ben. I love you.” Nothing had ever made you feel like this. No one ever would again. He reached the innermost depths of you, again, again, again. He fucked himself into you without restraint for the first time. Desperate to keep up this new ferocity of his, you said anything that crossed your mind.

“You feel so fucking good.”

“Oh God, Ben, please.”

“I love you so much, holy fuck, I love you so much.”

“Don’t stop, baby, never stop.”

“All I need, Ben, you’re all I need.”

“Perfect, you’re fucking perfect.”

“I love you. I love you. I love you.”

You didn’t even have time to comprehend how close you were before you were pushed off that glorious peak and were tumbling into heaven. Every muscle in your body tensed, you laced your arms around his neck tighter, pulling yourself as close to him as possible, whimpering pathetically in his ear as he fucked you through your orgasm.

“Jesus, sweetheart,” he groaned, “squeezing me like fucking vice. I’m gonna fucking cum.”

“Give it to me, Ben,” you whined, voice higher than normal, “I love you so much, fucking fill me up. Please, please, please. I love you. I love you.”

Sinking into your cunt one final time, as deep as he could, he pressed his forehead against yours as he came. If you weren’t already utterly cock-drunk, the sound he made as he finished inside you would’ve pushed you over the edge yet again. “Fucking hell, sweetheart,” he said as he held you beneath him a while longer, just soaking up the feeling of your warmth around his length.

“Uh-huh,” you mumbled, dropping your head to his shoulder as you regained your breath.

“Was I that perfect?” he mocked, composure intact, unlike yours, “Did I fuck you stupid? You were already a dumb slut before, can’t imagine you could get any dumber.”

"Hhhhnh," you grumbled into his flesh. Choosing not to take his jabs to heart you pressed a kiss to his neck, the salt of his skin on your lips. "Love you," you slurred. You felt him twitch inside you before he pulled out with a groan. You hissed at the sudden emptiness.

His lips found your forehead, placing a scratchy kiss there before moving to kiss your lips.

"Love you too, doll."

⭑ ⟵ ★ ⟶ ⭑

follow @viridiesa for more <3

a/n: okay so ik i'm like a couple of days behind oop but i totally forgot abt kinktober and i've wanted to do it ever since i started reading smut and writing fanfic so ig this year is my year :)) idk if i'll finish it but i have my plan so i hope so, and who better to start w than soldier boy himself!!!

if you liked this please comment, reblog, or follow for more! my inbox is always open for suggestions, your thoughts, or if you just wanna talk :)) can't wait for you to read more in future

#soldier boy x reader #soldier boy #soldier boy the boys #kinktober #kinktober 2022 #soldier boy smut #the boys smut

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angeltreasure · 23 days

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I recognize that I may never find a husband, be blessed with a family, get to fulfil my hearts desire of being a mother, a wife, and a helpful hand to the church. I tell God every day that I understand that in the end, I only have him, and I try to feel his love throughout my days, count my blessings and find joy in solitude. Jesus is my only friend, and I try to talk to him like he’s beside me but I’m left feeling alone and useless. I’m pursuing a career while working full time. Every day I’m studying all night after work. I am deeply unhappy with the direction I’m headed in and I do not want to be a woman with a career, it goes against my heart. I don’t believe women should even work in the field that I’m going into but I can’t stop now, I became an adult so quickly and suddenly I’m running out of time and money to spend on school. I just wish God had planned something different for me- But how can I even say that? I don’t know if it’s selfish to ask for a prayer for some kind of consolation when I am truly so blessed and lucky to be so privileged. I don’t know what’s wrong with me and I just want to forget my ego and be able to dedicate all my energy to honouring God and inspiring others to do the same.

I’ll pray for you.

Today is the perfect day to ask for prayers like this, to say ‘Jesus, I need Your help’. Our human heart desires natural things as you have said, know that there is nothing wrong with those desires. Sometimes our peers our own age or others around us make it seem so simple (especially if we follow blogs we love on social media which depict the exact dream life we want), so easy, that we wonder, ‘why am I not a mother yet? Why am I down this path? Doesn’t God care for me or even hear me? What am I doing wrong, what is wrong with me?’ There is absolutely nothing wrong with you. God isn’t just tolerating you because you are working hard and searching for things. He loves you, even when your sins nailed Him to the cross. There is nothing that will stop God from loving you, even if you were the worst sinner. God has a plan for you. It may not be tonight, or tomorrow, or next week, maybe not for years, but we have to be like Jesus and say God not my will but Your will be done. In the mean time, recognize in the present moment you already are a spiritual mother when you care for your family, friends, coworkers, people you pray for, the homeless, the abandoned. You are a wife because you are a child of God, the bride is the Church, you are fearfully and wonderfully made, knit by God when you were in your mother’s womb. You can be a helping hand to your church and surrounding churches when you are present at Mass, when you give your time and volunteer, when you make sacrifices to help other church members and clergy to lead them to God. You can do the smallest of smallest jobs, right down to cleaning the altar cloths and fixing the pews after Mass, and all that helping you can offer up for souls in Purgatory. All that studying and working too, offer it up for Purgatory and, God willing, your future spouse modeled after the best of all: St. Joseph. The Divine Mercy Chaplet is the perfect prayer for you to try and remember this sentence: “Jesus, I trust in You”. Pray that sentence as many times as you need it. Even when you don’t understand what will happen tomorrow, Jesus I trust in You. When your heart is full of loneliness, open the door to Jesus who always knocks at the door to your heart, Jesus I trust in you. When you feel unworthy, banish that thought away saying Jesus, I trust in you. You are not selfish to ask for prayer. You are a child of God and our prayers move mountains. Don’t be so afraid that you cast your eyes on the storm and raging waves. Step out of the boat and keep your eyes on Jesus.

#prayer request #asks

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atmilliways · 8 months

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Wrong On The Money (41)

part 41 of ?? | 936 words | Teen+

Blackmail fic on Ao3 | on tumblr

Summary:

It seems only right that Eddie makes it his mission to get Steve to believe him. Boost him up, drive home that this really was a great day, make sure he’s smiling for the rest of the night.

41.

Steve is smiling back at him, and Eddie almost can't take how good it feels. “You should play with us again sometime,” he adds, and watches as a blush slides over Steve’s cheeks in the relative darkness of the porch.

He’s not saying it for that reaction—although that’s pretty great, makes him feel a little giddy.

He’s saying it because Steve’s next move is to duck his head and rub at the back of his neck like he isn’t sure it’s the truth. WHat is it about those words that make them so hard to accept, huh?

“Nah. I don’t want to come between you and your friends.”

Eddie chews on the inside of his cheek , because fuck. That sounds like Steve did overhear Gareth and Frank mouthing off the other day. Which is so stupid, because they don’t even know Steve, they have no idea what they’re talking about and should not be considered credible sources. Stuck in high school—god, Margaret had nailed it, as usual. Jeff’s the only one who knows why Eddie is as good as dirt compared to Steve (even if Jeff himself keeps trying for some reason to insist that’s not true, the maniac).

It seems only right that Eddie makes it his mission to get Steve to believe him. Boost him up, drive home that this really was a great day, make sure he’s smiling for the rest of the night.

Eddie bumps the back of one hand, the one holding the last of the joint, against Steve’s arm. Offering. The last hit will be harsh as hell, but he doesn’t want to not offer. Steve jumps a little bit but moves to take it, and Eddie waits until their gazes cross paths to reply, “You’re not a problem, Stevie. Seriously.”

Steve starts coughing on his hit . . . and coughing, and coughing, Jesus H. Christ. Not the right time to pilot test a nickname, apparently—but Eddie hadn’t meant to, it had popped out. Felt like a Stevie moment.

Great job, Munson.

Maybe someone ought to wire his jaw shut. He mourns his lack of impulse control—not that being high helps—while giving Steve a few thumps on the back.

“Besides,” he says while Steve continues to hack up a lung, “Jeff and Gareth are the only ones still local, and Jeff’s cool. Gareth will warm up, especially if you keep feeding him. It’s fine.” He pauses, the thumping settling into his palm rubbing slow circles between Steve’s shoulder blades. “Trust me, if Margaret had a problem with you, you’d definitely know about it. And Frank’ll be over it by the next time he visits, as long as everybody else is on board. You’re a good dude now, Steve; people are capable of figuring that out.” And he means it. He means every word so fucking much.

So much for killing that crush. Steve looks up at him with wide, reddened, watering eyes like he’s been given an unexpected gift and Eddie is more head over heels than he’s ever been for anyone in his whole life—and that includes Han Solo.

“Are we friends?” Steve blurts out, and, okay, maybe they both have an impulsivity problem. Or . . . well, they are both high.

“Yeah,” Eddie confirms, no hesitation. “The Freak and the Hair, improbable friends after the apocalypse that wasn’t.”

Because they have the truce, and they’re basically coparenting (co-big-brothering?) Dustin, and Steve’s friends all like Eddie (even if Eddie can’t say the reverse of all his friends yet). Hell, they’ve even saved each other's lives. That means they actually are friends, right? That they’ve reached that point?

The smile Steve gives him is watery too, and he hasn’t moved away from Eddie’s hand on his back. (Both of these facts have Eddie’s heart in his throat.) “Okay. Cool.”

They go back inside. Wayne is out catching up with some buddies of his, so they have the house to themselves.

“We still gotta eat dinner,” Steve points out after they crash onto the inside couch, all loose-limbed and closer than Eddie either realized or expected. “I could make, uh . . . that tuna casserole? With the crunched up potato chips?”

Eddie blows out a deep breath through loose lips, his head lolling back against the top of the couch. This again. “You already cooked today, man. Let’s just order pizza, okay? My treat.”

“I . . . thought that’s why you shared the last of your weed with me?”

“Oh, that wasn’t the last of it.” Eddie smirks up at him from approximately shoulder height, and Steve. . . . God, Steve looks perfect. The hair, and the sparkle of mischief in his hazel eyes that part of Eddie wants to see if he can make ignite into something else. (Now is not the time for that thought.) “There’s more in my room somewhere, I just didn’t feel like getting up to find it.”

“Uh huh,” Steve says, sounding unimpressed. “How about you go get more of that, and I’ll take care of the pizza, call it even?”

Eddie’s grin widens, and he stands up—Steve watches like never seen anyone do it this way before. He goes legs first, then hips, then his spine and upper body following, all a beat behind the other like a Slinky rolling upright.

Then he punctuates it with a little jump and a tada flourish. “You are so weird,” Steve says, but he’s grinning back as he says it. Which may not mean anything, but to Eddie, in that moment? It’s everything. He floats into his bedroom, not even bothered by how many places he has to look to track down the rest of his stash.

#steddie blackmail fic #steddie #steddie fic #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things fic #my fanfic

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