#‘no.. i’m killin’ boys.. :)’ | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

the-karma-cafe · 3 months

Text

arthur morgan x reader ("thursdays")

(also posted on ao3 under same username)

in which the boys are curious where arthur runs off to every thursday night (ITS FOR SEX)

song is Moonshadow by Cat Stevens ! spoiler they be fucking :/ i be making them fuck for real (oh no aaaa no arthur dont have sex with me no aaa that would be terrible i would hate that)

Javier’s eyes track Arthur as he slinks away from the campfire, tuning out Sean’s boisterous storytelling. He knows the gunslinger is readying his horse to leave. He also knows he’ll be gone for a couple of hours, returning around one or two in the morning to slump into his bed after everyone has gone to sleep.

How does Javier know?

Surprisingly, Arthur is a creature of strict routine, and he does this song and dance every Thursday night—without fail.

Javier furrows his brow, unable to quash his curiosity this time. What on Earth could he be going off to do so regularly? He never came back with meat, so he wasn’t hunting. He couldn’t be off robbing, because when he got back, he didn’t drop anything off at the contribution box. Oh, Javier, maybe he was planning to do so later on? Ah, ah, ah! What do we know about Arthur? Ever the routine-man, he donates to the camp box the second he enters camp, no matter what he just got back from. It’s always the first thing he does. Can’t be shoppin’, ‘cause it’s too late for that. Can’t be killin’, ‘cause he comes back clean.

A cuff round his shoulder roused him from his thoughts. “Javier! Didja hear me?” Sean said, drink emboldening his speech (not that the Irishman needed much encouragement).

Javier ignored him, glancing over his shoulder. Sure enough, Arthur was on his horse, trotting away from camp, everyone else none-the-wiser.

“Hullloooo??” Sean needled, pushing his side into Javier’s.

Javier looked over to Lenny and Charles sitting across the campfire from them, and felt a spark of inspiration ignite within him. He leaned forward, beckoning them closer with his hand. They looked confused, but crossed the clearing anyway, kneeling in front of his and Sean’s log.

“What is it?” Lenny prompted, his voice hushed. He could always trust Lenny to be discreet.

“Yeah!” Sean added, much louder. ...He could’ve guessed.

He lowered his voice, smirking conspiratorially. “Where’d Arthur go?”

Sean and Lenny frowned, caught off-guard by the question, but Charles inclined his head in understanding. “I didn’t think anyone else noticed.”

“Noticed what??” Sean whined, leaning in closer to Charles. “Don’t be keepin’ secrets, now!”

Charles rolled his eyes, waving his hand to shush Sean. He nodded his head to Javier. “Arthur’s been leaving every Thursday night.”

Sean scrunched his nose. “So what? Art’ur leaves all the time!” Lenny nodded along.

Javier shook his head. “But Thursdays are different. He leaves around 10PM, comes back around 1AM. Why the same amount of time?”

Sean was quiet for a moment (if one could believe it), before jumping up from the log, his beer bottle sloshing in his hand. “Let’s go find out!!” he whispered loudly, grinning from ear to ear.

Javier couldn’t help but mirror his expression. He was hoping he wasn’t the only one this curious about it. He felt a thrum of excitement run through him. He pushed up from the log, Lenny readying to follow him.

“Guys,” Charles interrupted, stopping their walk to the horses. “Arthur’s entitled to his privacy. We should let him have this—whatever it is.”

He should’ve expected this from ever-noble Charles. Sean began to argue, but Javier cut him off, knowing he wouldn’t win against Charles. “It’s probably nothing.” he retorted, trying not to feel guilty under the other man’s pointed stare. He turned away, making for the horses anyway. “I’m going. You don’t have to.”

“Wouldn’t miss this fer the world!” Sean laughed, immediately tagging along. Javier fought the triumphant grin pulling at his lips. He heard Lenny awkwardly shuffle behind them, some whispered apology to Charles.

He mounted his horse, waiting impatiently for Sean to struggle onto his own. His eyes searched the growth around the camp, hoping to find an indication of where Arthur ran off to. He could track, but Charles was the expert. It would make things much easier to have him with them…

The man in question’s voice came behind him. “I’m only tagging along to make sure you don’t ruin whatever Arthur has going on.” He turned to see Charles mounting Taima, disapproval marring his proud features.

Javier grinned in spite of it. “Excellent! Vámonos!” he cheered, leading the search brigade with Charles by his side, the other man’s trained eye focused on the ground. Lenny followed behind them with Sean drunkenly pulling up the rear. Charles looked as though he wanted to stop him from coming, but seemed to decide against it, knowing the stubborn man wouldn’t listen to a word he said.

Charles followed Arthur’s trail down the left path from camp, past the trees, past the tracks, until they arrived in Valentine. Javier felt giddy.

Charles stopped them in front of the saloon, hopping off his horse to hitch her, the rest of them quickly following suit.

“The saloon?” Sean whispered, creeping up the steps to peer through the building’s windows. Lenny followed behind him, and the two poked their noses over the ledge of the window, trying to sneak a glance within. Charles walked over to join them, and would have looked less suspicious if not for the two idiots in front of him crouched like children.

Javier approached the window opposite them, casually leaning to the side of it to look in. Not that his subtlety helped him, as again, he was across from three grown men cartoonishly trying to peek inside as well.

He spied a couple of men that looked like Arthur before finally seeing actual Arthur at the bar. He wasn’t hunched over it, like some of the other patrons were, and instead was looking around at the other people in the saloon, as if searching for someone. What could that be about? He wondered.

Before he could think on it further, Sean strolled into the saloon, Lenny in tow. Charles shared a knowing glance with him before following them in.

Sean beelined for Arthur, and soon they all surrounded him, clapping him on the back.

“You’d go to the saloon without inviting yer favorite drinking buddy?” Sean accused, roughly pushing at the man’s shoulder.

“My favorite drinking buddy, huh?” Arthur echoed, his voice not reflecting what Javier knew to be embarrassment on his face. Arthur slumped over the bar, tugging the front of his hat further over his face.

Sean gasped. “Drinkin’ with me’s a treat! Ye should be so lucky!”

Javier nudged him from his other side. “We were wondering where you headed off to all the time. Had we known it was just the saloon we would not have bothered!” he laughed, waving the bartender over. He would buy him a drink to apologize.

“You too, Charles?” Arthur asked, sounding betrayed.

Charles sighed, apologizing. “I was trying to get them to leave you alone, Arthur.” Javier couldn’t help but think the man didn’t put up too much of a fight.

“Well,” Arthur cleared his throat. “‘F that’s all, you can all head on back to camp, I’ll be back soon.”

Sean scoffed. “Why d’you want to be rid of us so-”

A guitar strum floated over from the back of the saloon, and he trailed off. Arthur buried his head in his arms, the tips of his ears red. Javier cocked a brow, looking over.

“Miss me, y’all?” a pretty woman at the back of the room called out, guitar in hand. A couple of cheers and whoops came from the crowd, the saloon filled with noise.

The boys grinned knowingly.

“Not. A goddamn. Word.” Arthur groaned, his voice muffled by his arms.

Sean barked a laugh, clapping the man on the back. “Ohoho, ye rascal, we shoulda known ye’d try ta keep this beauty ta yerself!” He wolf-whistled towards the performer.

Javier grinned toothily, leaning in to tease Arthur. “You could have told us you were only leaving to see about a girl, Arthur.”

Arthur pushed up from his slump, nursing his whiskey miserably. “Like you would’ve let me hear the end of it.” He grumbled. Javier pushed his extra drink over to the man, giggling like a teenager. Arthur the Stoic, red-faced and shy about a singer. He never thought he’d see the day!

The woman, having finished her introductions while they teased Arthur, began to sing. Javier watched Arthur turn himself slightly to watch her.

Yes, I'm bein' followed by a moonshadow

Moonshadow, moonshadow

Leapin' and hoppin' on a moonshadow

Moonshadow, moonshadow

Arthur couldn’t help the dreamy smile that twisted his mouth, watching her. She looked so content, fully in her element up there on Valentine’s tiny lifted stage. The piano man to her right had abandoned his duties to drink at the nearest table.

And if I ever lose my hands

Lose my plow, lose my land

Oh, if I ever lose my hands

Oh iiiii-iiiif, I won't have to work no more

Her southern accent colored the lyrics, guiding the notes up and down as she pleased. The patrons knew this song, and sang along with her every now and then, but none followed the exact way she sang it, allowing him to easily follow her voice amidst the noise.

And if I ever lose my eyes

If my colors all run dry

Yes, if I ever lose my eyes

Oh iiiii-iiiif, I won't have to cry no more

Sean stumbled into the fray, caught in some dance with a couple of other patrons, breaking his trance. Arthur dragged a hand over his face, hoping he didn’t look as foolish as he felt.

Yes, I’m bein' followed by a moonshadow

Moonshadow, moonshadow

Leapin' and hoppin' on a moonshadow

Moonshadow, moonshadow

Most nights, he would allow himself to indulge in the fantasy. Convince himself she was singin’ for him, that when they locked eyes across the saloon, she had the same look in hers as he did.

And if I ever lose my legs

I won't moan, and I won't beg

Oh, if I ever lose my legs

Oh iiiii-iiiif, I won't have to walk no more

He downed his drink and reached for Javier’s—anything to give him an excuse for the way he was lookin’ at her. Having them with him just dragged him back to reality: he was just another face in the crowd to her, and even if he did catch her eye, she would just think him old and sour-faced, and leave it at that.

And if I ever lose my mouth

All my teeth, north and south

Yes, if I ever lose my mouth

Oh iiiii-iiiif, I won't have to talk no more

He took another deep drink, feeling that familiar haze begin to set in on the edge of his vision.

Did it take long to find me?

I asked the faithful light

Oh, did it take long to find me?

And are you gonna stay the night?

This would be the last time he let himself come here on a Thursday night. He was just torturin’ himself, thinkin’ of things that would never be. Head in the clouds, like Micah would say. Christ, he was glad they didn’t think to bring him along.

I'm bein' followed by a moonshadow

Moonshadow, moonshadow

Leapin' and hoppin' on a moonshadow

Moonshadow, moonshadow

The drink crept into his heart. If this was his last night here, with her, he might as well fool himself one last time, the drink said. What’s the harm? One last time can’t hurt. It wheedled, and he knew he’d be miserable come morning.

Moonshadow, moonshadow

He leaned to his right, seeking Javier’s weight to nudge him for another drink (least he could do for ruinin’ his fun), but felt only air. He frowned, glancing around for the others. Sean had dragged Lenny into his drunken dance, Javier was speaking with some well-endowed woman in the corner (who seemed very pleased to have his attention), and Charles… his frown deepened, squinting at the blurry crowd. He couldn’t see Charles. Knowing the women of Valentine, he was likely cornered somewhere, politely refusing their services (although for a man like Charles, perhaps it was free).

Arthur grunted, turning back to his empty glass. Figures that his friends would quickly find company at a place he frequented, and he was left miserable and alone. He plucked his hat off his head, raking his other hand through his hair. He was sure he looked a mess—no wonder he was by himself.

“Hey, cowboy.” a voice came from his right, startling him from his wallowing. He turned, and felt his heart jump to see his singer leaning against the bar next to him.

Her eyes were bright, her face flushed. She seemed out of breath from her performance, but pleased, satisfied with how she had done.

He gaped like a fish. Say somethin’, goddammit!

She smiled, shifting her eyes to his glass. She pointed at it lazily. “Be a doll and get me what you’re havin’?”

He nodded dumbly, gesturing wordlessly at the bartender. Seconds later, a replica of his drink sat in front of her. She thanked him and brought the glass to her lips. He knew he looked ridiculous, eyes trained on the way her lips parted, the amber liquid gliding into her mouth, but he couldn’t bring himself to look away.

She set the glass back down, giving him a teasing smile. “You mute?”

He shook his head—then inwardly smacked himself for yet another wordless response. “No.” Christ, you can do better than that.

She giggled, and he thought he might die. “What a scintillating conversationalist you are, Mister…” she trailed off, tilting her head.

“Morgan.” he provided. His mind caught up to the conversation fast enough to ask for her name in turn (he deserved a pat on the back for being so quick-witted). She gave it, and he almost sighed aloud. She had a name she introduced herself with to the crowds, but he suspected it was a stage name, and he had been correct. Her real name was a privilege to finally learn.

He repeated it back to her, experimentally rolling it on his tongue. She grinned. “Sounds nice when you say it, Mr. Morgan.”

“Arthur,” he corrected. “‘S just Arthur. For you.” He coughed, turning to order another drink, just to have something, anything , to distract him from the weight of her gaze on him. “I mean, if you want. Morgan’s fine too.”

“Arthur,” she purred. He felt faint. “I like that more.” His next drink arrived and he immediately buried his face in it, unable to meet her eyes. Christ, he was like a teenager. He inwardly scolded himself.

She carried on, oblivious to his inner turmoil. “I see you here a lot, Arthur.” she gestured over her shoulder to the crowd. “First time I seen you bring friends, though.”

So she had seen him in the crowd all those times? He squashed the thought before it ruined him. He laughed, shaking his head. “Bastards invited themselves.” He chanced a glance at her, her attention on the crowd instead of him. He eyed her drink, already half-empty in her hand, before looking up, up, to the curve of her chest, the proud slope of her neck, the strands of hair falling loose from her updo, her lips, her nose, her eyes… he forced himself to look at the crowd instead. “Don’t you have some adorin’ fans to go talk to?”

She turned her head to look at him, but he kept his eyes focused ahead. “I thought I was already doin’ that.” she sidled closer to him, nudging her shoulder against his arm. Warmth radiated off of her. “Unless you’re not one of my adoring fans.”

Arthur felt heat creep up his neck and he shrugged. “Maybe.”

“Maybe?” she echoed, amusement coloring her voice. “I don’t think you’ve missed a single one of my performances, Arthur Morgan.” he felt a shiver run up his spine. “If anyone’s a fan, it’s you.”

He pulled the lip of his hat down over his eyes. “Maybe.” Guilty as charged.

She laughed, and rounded to his front. She flicked up the front of his hat, and his eyes met hers. He stilled, entranced. There seemed to be a glow about her, some hazy halo enveloping her body. How much had he had?

“You won’t admit it?” What had they been talking about again? He tried not to focus on their difference in height, how easy it would be to scoop her up, his hands so large on her hips…

“Well?” He flexed his hands, trying to reign himself in. Her face was expectant: eyebrows raised, pretty lips pursed.

He shook his head. Couldn’t this woman see he couldn’t think straight?

Apparently that counted as an answer and she scoffed, playfully rolling her eyes. “You embarrassed?”

Yes. Why did she think he was, again? He sighed. “I’m sorry, miss,” he tried her name again, wanting to say it over and over. “I believe I am too drunk for this conversation.”

She grinned in understanding. “Why don’t we talk someplace quieter, make things easier on your poor head, hm?”

Someplace quieter? His mind echoed, while his body nodded dumbly, stumbling behind her. She took his hand in her own, leading him up the stairs. His eyes were trained intently on their hands, her hand small, warm, in his, her fingertips roughened from guitar strings.

What was she doin’, touchin’ a man like him? He couldn’t bring himself to pull away, as much as he knew he should. It felt nice, to indulge. The hazy shroud around his vision encroached further inwards, tunneling his view.

“Here,” she said, so softly he almost didn’t hear. She pushed open a door, leading him inside and shutting it behind them. It was suddenly much quieter. He breathed a sigh of relief, some tension leaving his set shoulders.

“Nicer up here, isn’t it?” she prompted, releasing his hand. He ached at the loss. He dragged his gaze up to watch her dance over to the… bed. He gulped, valiantly fighting off the thoughts that sprang up at the sight of her.

“Mhm.” He didn’t know what to do with himself. He stood awkwardly where she had left him, staring dumbly at her. What the hell was she thinkin’, bringin’ a man like him up here, alone with her? She could get herself hurt, or worse. He frowned. She opened her mouth to speak, but he cut her off. “I shouldn’ be up here with you.” He shook his head, forcing himself to look at the ground. “Ain’t right. You shouldn’ trust me.” his words slurred, but he hoped she was taking him seriously despite it.

“Why not?”

He groaned. God, her voice. He buried his head in his hands. “I ain’t. A nice man, miss,” he spoke her name again, and god, hoped she couldn’t hear how he loved to say it.

He felt her hand on his arm. When had she gotten up? She was so warm. He lowered his hands, chancing a look into her eyes, hoping he was strong enough to resist their pull.

Christ, of course he couldn’t. She looked up at him through her lashes, stepping closer, their bodies almost touching. He breathed in, unable to bring himself to look away this time. She smelled like the alcohol everything smelled like in the saloon, but a sweet undertone ran beneath it. He was reminded of the saccharine scent of canned peaches.

Her hand smoothed down his arm to his hand, lacing their fingers together. Her other reached up, up, and palmed his cheek, her touch gentle like she was approaching some wild horse. He leaned into it before he could stop himself, his stubble scratching against her skin.

“How ‘bout,” she started, her voice soft and quiet, “I decide that for myself?”

His eyelids felt heavy, and he felt himself forgetting what she was even responding to. His free hand began to move of its own accord, bumping into her thigh, smoothing up to her hip. He looked down. Just like he had imagined…

She moved, and his gaze shifted to her face, slowly nearing his. His breath hitched. This was some sweet dream. He would awaken in his tent, frustrated and wanting, would take himself in his hand and relieve himself to the sight of her like this in his mind’s eye. He would wait until next Thursday and slink back to the bar, eager for more. Her lips touched his and he sighed into her mouth, whiskey on his breath. He would stay asleep forever, if he could, lips pushing against hers, nipping at her soft skin, tonguing past it.

She parted from him, gently, as if to not scare him off. He breathed heavily, eyes lidded, vision tunneled onto her mouth. She started to speak, but he cut her off, pushing hungrily into her, cupping his hand around the back of her neck. He had waited so long, so long. He would take it, even if it wasn’t real.

She gasped into his mouth and he almost moaned at the sensation. God, what a privilege to finally have her all to himself. To have her in front of him, touching him, kissing him, instead of with her crowd, Arthur by himself at the other end.

Her knees buckled, falling back onto the bed. He huffed, breaking from her. He thrust his hands beneath her thighs, hearing her squeak in surprise. “Easy, girl.” he muttered under his breath, picking her up and tossing her into the pillows at the head of the bed, following soon after.

He climbed onto the bed above her, and stilled, looking down at her. Her hair had spilled out of its updo, hair piece having been discarded… at some point, perhaps before they had even entered the room? His memory felt hazy. She looked up at him through her lashes, her lips parted, chest heaving. His eyes softened. “Yer beautiful, miss,” he whispered her name.

Her cheeks flushed prettily. “Thank you, Arthur.” she breathed. She tilted her head up slightly, her eyes slipping down to his lips.

He reached out, taking a piece of her hair between his fingers, twisting it around. It was soft. Of course it was. It was devastating how perfect she was. “I liked your song, earlier.” he mumbled, focused on her hair.

“I… I’m glad.” she whispered, her hand winding up his arm, to his neck, to his head, to take off his hat. She placed it down somewhere, and her hand soon wound its way into his hair, her short nails scraping at the back of his head. His eyes slipped closed, humming at the sensation. “I was hoping you would be here, tonight.”

He blinked open his eyes just enough to see her face. “What?” he asked, his voice gruff.

She averted her gaze, blush deepening. “Been lookin’ forward to seein’ you at my performances.”

He scoffed. Now he knew this was a dream. “Uh huh.” He leaned in, burying his nose in her neck. “You don’t gotta lie t’me.” He turned, placing open-mouthed kisses along any skin he could find. Her breath hitched in his ear.

“I-I’m not.” she insisted. He hummed, laving across a section of skin before taking it between his teeth, sucking slightly. She held her breath for a second, forcing out her next words. “I been… been dreadin’ the day you stop showin’ up,” she breathed out, “and I’d have missed my chance.”

He parted from her, pulling back just enough to meet her eyes. They were lidded, but earnest. He felt his heart flutter in his chest. “I counted at least ten other men better-lookin’ and closer in age t’you. Yer tellin’ me not one o’ them caught yer eye?”

“‘S that really so hard to believe?” she palmed his cheek again, stroking it with her thumb.

“Yes.” he laughed dryly, but leaned into her hand all the same.

She brought up her other hand, cupping his face. “Look how sweet you are, baby.” she cooed, bringing his face closer to nuzzle her nose against his. “What a cutie-pie!” she teased.

His eyes softened, tracing the features of her face. He wished he could pause time, sketch her in his journal. He’d just have to memorize how she looked, and try his best to replicate it later. Once he woke up, of course. From this dream.

She connected their lips and he groaned, not expecting the sudden contact again. Her hands moved from his face to wrap around his neck and scratch at his shoulders. It felt like she was sucking him in, how truly he could not pull away.

He rubbed his hand up her thigh, pushing up her long skirt. Her skin was smooth under his rough hand, moving up to grab at the soft flesh of her ass, squeezing and pulling her up towards him. She arched slightly, and he grabbed his other hand behind her waist to pull her closer, closer still.

Her breasts brushed against his chest, her nipples stiffening through the thin fabric. He nudged her head to the side with his nose, moving to kiss down her neck. She sighed in his ear, her hands busying themselves with his arms and shoulders. Drink made him sloppy in his movements, his tongue wetting her neck and chest as he made his way down to her breasts. He didn’t bother to tug the fabric down, instead mouthing over her nipple through the fabric, flattening and swirling his tongue into the mound.

She whimpered, her hand moving up to tug at the hair on the back of his head, her other moving down to tug her shirt down under her tits. He parted from her while she did so, unable to help the smirk twisting his mouth at her desperation.

“You like that, doll?” he muttered, taking in the sight of her bare breasts, her shirt bunched up underneath them.

She stuttered out a response, arching up towards his mouth. Seeing her like this sent a surge of confidence through him. She was his. No one else downstairs got to see her like this. Just him. Only him. He brushed his lips against her nipple, watching her try to push into his mouth.

He smiled against her, and she whined, tugging his hair. “Don’t tease me, Arthur.” she breathed. Fuck. He took it into his mouth, his hand encircling the other, twisting and toying with it. He would give her anything she wanted if it meant she would say his name like that again.

He dragged his mouth down, not missing the soft moan she gave at the loss, cool air ghosting over her wet nipple. He kissed down her stomach, moving his hands down underneath her thighs, pushing them up, up.

He bunched her skirt around her, and pulled back. His eyebrows jumped up his forehead in surprise. She wasn’t wearing anything underneath. He looked up at her.

Her face was reddened with embarrassment, her hands covering her cheeks.

“Care to explain this?” he teased, running his hands down her thighs, closer, closer.

She bit her lip. “I…” she looked away.

He tilted his head, indicating he was waiting.

“I… did say I was hopin’ to see you tonight, didn’t I?” she laughed breathily.

His chest rumbled in approval, looking down at her exposed cunt, already wet without him touching it. “All this…” he drawled, glancing up at her, “for me?”

She nodded, hiding slightly behind her hands.

“Too kind to me, sweetheart,” he lowered himself, breathing her in. He kissed her thigh, feeling her twitch. “You shouldn’t have…” his breath ghosted between her legs, and she shuddered, anticipation building. He placed a few more open-mouthed kisses inside her thighs, feeling her arch into him, growing desperate. He took pity.

Gripping her soft thighs in his hands, he licked one long stripe up her slit, gathering her wetness onto his tongue. She gasped, tightening her legs. He forced them open, holding them up. “Be good, princess, or I won’t be good to you.” he admonished, kissing her thigh.

She shuddered. “Shit, yes, sorry yes, please, I’ll be good, please,” she breathed, trying to wiggle closer to his mouth.

“Good girl,” he praised, flattening his tongue against her clit, lapping at it softly. She cursed, her hands fisting the bedding. He laved up her slit, once, twice, three times, before closing his lips around her bud, lightly sucking it in and swirling his tongue around it.

“Fuck, Arthur,” she gasped, and he groaned against her, working his tongue inside of her, circling the entrance before pushing in, lapping up at her walls. He smoothed his hand up her thigh, reaching her clit with the rough pad of his thumb. He pressed gentle circles into it, his tongue spreading into her. She hissed, bucking into his ministrations.

He pulled away, sliding his thumb down from her clit to her entrance, gently working his way inside.

“Arthur…” she whined.

“Yeah?” He teased, mimicking her tone, pushing his thick thumb further inside of her.

She moaned, pushing herself onto him. “Arthur, please, I need more,” she breathed, meeting his gaze. “I need you .”

He felt himself throb against his already-strained pants. He cursed under his breath, moving to unbuckle his pants. In his tunnel vision, he didn’t see her move from her position on the bed.

Her hand came to rest over where his struggled with the buckle. “Let me, baby.” she cooed, moving his hands away. He blinked, letting her move him, watching her smaller hands undo his belt, working his pants down, taking him… oh. She took him out, palming his length. Shit, it looked bigger in her hand. Or maybe he hadn’t been this worked up in awhile. She ghosted her hand up and down, barely fluttering her thumb over the tip. His breath hitched, trying not to buck up into her hand, and failing, miserably.

She grinned, looking up at him through her lashes. He reached out, stroking her cheek with his hand. “Hey, girl.” he breathed shakily, her hand jerking up suddenly.

She giggled. “Hey, yourself, handsome.”

He flushed, suddenly embarrassed to be on the other end. He looked away, only for a moment, before feeling a warm wetness engulf him. He gasped, whipping back to look down at her, half of his length having disappeared into her mouth. “Shit, darlin’,” he cursed, his accent dragging at the words. He bucked up into her lips, smoothing his thumb across her cheek.

She hummed, the sound sending vibrations into him. “God, sweetheart, you’re bein’ so fuckin’ good to me right now,” he hissed, his hand reaching underneath to cup her jaw, squeezing it and guiding himself further in.

She opened her mouth wider to take him. “Christ, you’re perfect,” he groaned, feeling her tongue slide up, her hand taking what her mouth couldn’t.

She pulled off of him, kissing his tip, pumping her hand over the slick she had left. His breath shuddered. She smiled up at him. “You want more?”

“God, yes.” he pushed her back onto the bed, muscling her onto her stomach, ass in the air. She squeaked in surprise, and he palmed her ass, squeezing it open to get a better look. God, she was practically dripping for him. He bit his lip, groaning. He rubbed himself up her slit, gathering the wetness there, rubbing it onto himself. “All this for me, darlin’?” he whispered, squeezing her hip.

She wiggled herself back, trying to take him in. “Fuck, Arthur, it is, please, just fuck me already,” she whined, his tip sliding just past where she wanted him.

“If the lady insists,” he teased, aligning himself with her, before softly, gently, pushing into her.

She turned her face into the mattress, moaning, grabbing at the covers. “ Jesus, Arthur.” she groaned, her words muffled.

He pressed in further. Halfway. “Can’t hear you, doll.” It was taking everything in him to go so slowly.

She turned her head to the side, pushing back to take more of him in. He hissed, his hands twitching on her ass, squeezing her.

He let out a breath, finally fully seated. He didn’t want to hurt her, he couldn’t. He gyrated against her, desperate for some kind of friction. A whine built in his throat. “Can-”

Before he could ask, she forcefully pushed back into him, and he cursed, abandoning all hesitation and fucking into her. She cried out his name, arching against him. She was so tight and hot around him, her ass bouncing back against him with every thrust. It was all he could do to keep himself standing, his vision focused solely on where their bodies met.

“Ar-thur,” she gasped, her breath shuddering, “God, God, you’re so big Arthur, Jesus Christ,” she moaned, her words starting to devolve into sounds with no meaning.

He kept himself rooted deep within her, barely pulling out before slamming back in again, and again, and again. Her hands grasped for purchase anywhere, everywhere, on the bed, moaning noises that almost sounded like his name, pushing back into him with every thrust.

Shit. Shit. He screwed his eyes shut. He wasn’t sure he could last much longer.

“Miss,” he breathed her name. “I, shit, I-” he grabbed her thighs, his fingers bruising in their pressure, forcing her back into him.

She whined at the pressure, growing limper.

“Fuck! Fuck,” he yanked himself from her, grabbing at himself and finishing on her back.

She had collapsed into the bed, giving a small satisfied moan. He breathed heavily, immediately grabbing a towel from the closet and cleaning her off. “S-Sorry, Miss.” he caught his breath, “Should’ve grabbed the towel before doin’ that on you.” He discarded the towel, placing a small kiss on her back, then immediately wondering if that was too much.

“What?” she said, muffled a bit by the covers. She turned, pushing herself up to sit and look at him. She frowned, reaching out and cupping his cheek. “You’ve got nothin’ to apologize for, cowboy.” Her frown twisted to a smile, “I oughta be thankin’ you for such a nice time.” she teased, pinching his cheek.

He suddenly grew bashful, rubbing the back of his neck. “I don’ know about all that, but I definitely am thankin’ you.” Her face was flushed, her eyes bright, her lips slightly swollen… he had so many things to remember for his journal. “Best dream I’ve had in awhile,” he mumbled, moving to get under the covers.

She joined him. “Dream?” she laughed, “You still drunk enough to think you’re dreamin’?”

He shrugged, opening his arms. She shifted into them, laying her head on his chest. “Could be stone cold sober and still think this was a dream.” He pecked her head. “I’ll miss you in the mornin’, girl.”

She snorted, but snuggled into him anyway.

─ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─

Arthur groaned, the light only hitting his closed eyes, but giving him a headache all the same. His back didn’t hold the ache it usually did, though, laying on this terrible cot. It was the small victories, he guessed.

He thought back to his dream last night, and sighed wistfully. What he would give to have that right now, his cock painfully hard this morning. He forced himself to sit up, rubbing at his eyes.

A hand reached across his stomach, ghosting against his length. He jumped, looking over to his side. “Well, good morning to you, too.” she yawned, lightly playing with him, a teasing look in her eye.

He blinked. He squinted.

He rubbed his eyes again.

“Holy shit.”

─ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─

Bonus

The woman placed the guitar against the wall, happily engaged in conversation with some of the patrons closest to her stage. “Excuse me,” Charles butted in, stealing her attention from them.

She turned to him, confused, but polite. “Yes, sir?”

He smiled kindly. “I’m sorry, Miss, but could you do me a favor?”

“Depends on the favor, don’t it?” she laughed.

He nodded in understanding, and pointed to Arthur, hunched over the bar. “Do you see that miserable man over there?” She looked, and stiffened in recognition. “He has been coming to this saloon every Thursday night, just for you.” he turned to her.

A blush painted her cheeks. “You’re kiddin’.” she laced her fingers together nervously. “He’s never said anything to me.”

Charles shook his head. “My friend—he is shy with women.” he leaned in conspiratorially, “Especially women he likes.” The woman’s blush deepened, her gaze darting over to Arthur. He straightened up. “All I ask is that you talk to him. I’m afraid my friends and I have ruined his Thursday, and I’m sure that would cheer him up.”

She looked up at him, her eyes dancing. He could tell why Arthur was so taken with her. “He sounds sweet,” she spoke softly. “I would love to.”

He thanked her, watching her make true on her word and walk over to Arthur. Charles noted his reddened ears and fumbling fingers and smiled. Hopefully, this would make up for it.

#arthur morgan x female reader #arthur morgan x you #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan rdr2 #arthur morgan #rdr2 fanfic #rdr2 arthur #rdr2 #charles smith #red dead redemption 2 #javier escuella #lenny summers #sean macguire #smut #fanfiction #fanfic

592 notes · View notes

lovebugism · 7 months

Note

hi bug! you are one of the best writers on here. I love your work! I was wondering if I could request eddie and shy!reader watching a scary movie? maybe it’s early on in their relationship and she’s afraid that he’ll think she’s a baby if she says no, even though she’s pretty freaked? I love their dynamic!

ty lovie! hope u like it!! — eddie (the local freak) loves you, horror movies, and halloween, in the order. you (the scaredy cat) just love eddie. (new relationship, fluff, hurt/comfort-ish, 1.7k)

fictober (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ)

Orange lamplight illuminates the dark trailer. You squint at the brightness, still curled up on the couch and missing Eddie’s warmth. He’s too busy rifling through his collection of VHS tapes beneath the TV stand, searching for a scary movie within a sea of scary movies.

He’s giddy like a kid on Christmas despite having seen all of them a thousand times over. But, then again, the Halloween season tends to be like Christmas for metalhead freaks like the one you love so dearly.

“Okay, Texas Chainsaw Massacre or The Exorcist?” the boy offers when he rises again, chestnut curls as wild as the bright beam on his face. He stands in front of the small television where red names scroll against a black screen and holds both options in eager hands. “Which one do you wanna watch next?”

You shrink inside yourself at the sight of both tapes. On one, a screaming girl — on the other, a masked man with a weapon. Your organs writhe with a fear most irrational. It runs ice-cold through your veins.

You pull the woven blanket up to your chin and shrug, feigning a nonchalance despite your tightening chest. “Whichever one—”

“—And don’t say whichever one I want, alright? You always do that,” Eddie interjects, all boyishly harsh compared to how softly you had spoken. His playful grin hasn’t yet left him, though, and even in the dim lighting, his dark eyes still sparkle when they look at you.

You cower again, more visibly and with a different emotion this time.

The corner of your lip quirks with a poorly hidden smile as you peek at the boy from beneath your lashes. “I don’t mind, Eds. Seriously,” you assure, still quiet in your way.

He pouts like a child, features scrunching in a childlike disdain. “But we always do the stuff I wanna do! You never have an opinion on anything. It’s always just, like, ‘whatever you want, Eds’ or ‘I’m good with whatever, babe—’”

You laugh at his obviously poor imitation of you.

The bubbly sound makes his smile widen.

“—You don’t have to be so sweet all the time, you know? You can be a little mean to me. I won’t mind, I promise.”

It’s in his nature to make dumb, dirty jokes at arguably the worst times — especially with you, ‘cause he loves watching you get all flustered about it. But he thinks if you ever got the least bit assertive with him, he’d turn into a puddle at your feet.

“It’s because I don’t really care what we do,” you confess, warm with the blushy pink feeling he stirs in your chest. “I just like being with you, you know?”

Eddie’s stomach whirls. He’s too metal to let it turn him to mush.

“As cute as that is, you’re not sweet talkin’ your way outta this one, princess,” the boy retorts with a scrunched nose and twinkling eyes. “Pick.”

Too indecisive and too in love with the boy standing before you, you whine, “Eds…”

“Babe,” he grouses to match your pouty tone. His socked feet scuff against the carpet when he walks the short distance to you. “C’mon. You’re killin’ me here.”

A staring contest ensues, each of you stubborn and playfully serious with it.

It’s embarrassingly brief.

It’s hard for you to stare too long at Eddie before you get completely lost in him. You too quickly realize that he’s real — that he’s looking back at you and that he loves you — and you feel a bit like your feet have been pulled out from under you.

Stern, but still gentle, you cave. “Texas Chainsaw Massacre.”

Eddie beams when he gets his way.

“See? Was that so hard?” he teases quietly, bending at the waist to kiss you.

You tilt your chin to meet him halfway. It’s instinct at this point, like he’s got his own gravitational pull. His breath smells like warm nicotine and buttery popcorn as it fans against your chin.

He pulls back before you can reach him, though, and your fluttering eyes widen at the sudden refusal.

You find Eddie already squinting down at you.

“Are you just saying that ‘cause you know it’s my favorite?” he interrogates lowly.

“Maybe I like it because you like it,” you argue, too soft to be as serious as you seem. “Ever thought of that?”

“You’re too sweet for your own good, you know that, right?”

Your playfully taunting gaze gives way to a more genuine grin. “Now, I do.”

Eddie leans in to kiss you. For real this time. It’s a fleeting peck that leaves you grieving. His plush lips press pink against yours for one moment, and they’re gone the very next.

The couch dips beneath his weight when he plops down beside you. He coaxes your folded-up legs onto his lap with an urging hand on your knee.

“Okay, how about this,” he offers with rosy lips so suddenly kissable. “We go down to Family Video — bother Steve for, like, ten minutes — and you get whatever movies you want instead of the old shit we have here. My treat.”

Your chest warms. You’d follow Eddie blindly for the rest of your life if he let you. You’d do whatever he wanted and not think twice about any of it. It feels nice to know he’d do the same for you.

“Any movie?” you press, soft with a girlish giddiness you fight to keep hidden.

“Yeah,” the boy scoffs like it’s obvious. Then, in a vaguely posh accent, he assures, “What my lady wants, my lady shall get.”

You grow so suddenly sheepish, shrinking inside yourself like you always do when you’ve got something to say but lack the confidence to put it into words. It’s dumb to get nervous about it, and you know this, but you don’t want Eddie to think any differently of you — not for a moment, not even in the most innocent way.

“Does it have to be scary?” you wonder with a scrunched nose and a bashful gaze that doesn’t quite meet his.

Eddie falters for a moment. Not because it’s a big deal, but because he thought you liked horror films — that you both had that in common.

“Well— I mean— No. It’s just— It’s October, you know? So, I thought scary movies would be more appropriate. ’Tis the season or whatever.”

“I think I just need a break for a bit,” you confess with a wavering smile, picking tiny balls of cotton from the blanket with a fidgeting hand. “Especially after that last one… It was pretty scary…”

Eddie’s blood runs cold. Too clouded by the haze of puppy love, he thought you were having just as much fun as he was. He thought you were clutching his arm and digging your nose into his shoulder because you wanted to be close to him.

Because he’s an idiot.

Realizing that you’ve been scared out of your mind for the past several hours feels a little like a knife to the gut.

“I thought you liked scary movies…” Eddie quavers with pinched brows.

“I like them because you like them—”

“Babe!” he exclaims suddenly, as though offended by how much you love him.

“What?”

“That’s, like— That’s totally not cool!” he gapes in a boyish outrage. “That means I’ve been, like, fucking traumatizing you this whole time!”

You can’t help but giggle at his dramatics. You’d been scared, of course, but it hadn’t been all that extreme to you. “It’s okay, Eds. It’s not that serious—”

“Yes, it is!” he retorts firmly, with wide eyes and a stern nod. “If I knew you weren’t into them, I wouldn’t have forced you to—”

“You didn’t force me.”

“—To come over every weekend and watch them!”

“That’s why I didn’t wanna tell you, Eds,” you admit with a shy, halfway-forced giggle.

He goes quiet again. “…Why?”

“‘Cause I was scared you wouldn’t wanna hang out with me… I mean, what kinda girlfriend would I be if I was too much of a scaredy cat to watch stupid slasher films with my boyfriend?”

“Well, that’s just— that’s just not true. I just meant that we coulda been doing other stuff together,” Eddie affirms, gentle but in the overtly firm Munson way. A chuckle sputters from his lips as his palm squeezes your knee, warm and reassuring. “Stuff that wasn’t scaring the absolute shit outta you, preferably.”

You don’t know what to say, so you just laugh.

Eddie smiles back at you, mostly because it’s terribly hard not to, but he grows suddenly somber again.

“Seriously, babe,” he presses, leaning closer so you can’t duck away from his sparkling gaze. His chocolate eyes are dark enough to drown in. They flit between both of yours. “You gotta tell me shit like this, okay? You’re not gonna hurt my feelings— or, like, make me like you less or whatever. That’s pretty much impossible, I think.”

Your stomach does a backflip. It unleashes a thousand butterflies that flutter relentlessly against your ribcage. “Yeah?” you press softly and with a shy smile you try to keep hidden.

“Oh, totally,” he answers without thinking twice. “Our friends are idiots, but they’re right— I’m so fucking whipped for you, it’s not even funny.”

That joke was only halfway gratifying when it spilled from Steve or Dustin’s mouth. Hearing Eddie say it — with his nose mere inches away from your own and with his cigarette smoke and candied breath entwining with yours — it’s that times a thousand. A million, even.

“Well, maybe a little,” you tease quietly in return.

Eddie shrugs with a jutted-out lip. “Just a bit, I guess.”

He might as well be telling you I love you. It feels like he is, in his own special way.

“Are we still gonna go to Family Video?” you wonder aloud when the silence becomes too heavy to bear.

“Oh, yeah. You’re getting whatever the hell you want, alright? I’ll buy out the whole damn store if you want.”

He only has mere dollars to his name. You know this, too. But he says it with so much hubris that it feels just as real, anyway.

Beaming fully again, you joke. “Are we still gonna bother Steve while we’re there?”

“Yes,” Eddie answers with a single nod and a deadpan, like he’s offended you would even ask. “That answer’s always gonna be yes.”

1K notes · View notes

onmyyan · 27 days

Note

!!!!!!!!OK IMMA B REAL WITH U!!!!!!! I’m feelin like a sick twisted freak tonite and when I saw requests open I came running like you were the ice cream truck!!!!!!!!!! My request is that I reader wanna purposely make the d boys go mad with jealousy just to see them all b pusher over the edge killin a man in front of me!!!!!!!! Sick and sadistic ik but likeeeeee I needa man to show me he won’t tolerate another man getting in my rear view!!!!!!!! I wanna see yan yan go hard baby!!!!!!!

Marcos trembled in place, panting like a rabid dog, his eyes wide and nearly black from how blown his pupils were, the blood on his hands was warm, sticky and smelling of iron, it wasn't hard to guess what had happened only moments before you entered his warehouse, the man, no, the corpse on the ground was still twitching, his hands clutching at the gaping wound across his throat, the clatter of the knife hitting the ground seemed to snap you out of the trance you'd been in, Marcos smiles a wobbly grin at you, his hands looked like he'd dunked them in a paint bucket, only you knew it was real.

"My darling- my love? What are you doing here?" He asks breathless, stepping cautiously closer, one calculated step at a time.

"y-y-." The words die before they can form, he closes the distance putting his bloody hands on your cheeks, pulling your gaze away from the body. "Breathe my love, just breathe for me." He was so calm, so unfazed it almost made you feel like the situation was under control.

"y-you killed him." The statement was met with a kiss to your now blood covered cheeks, "He tried to take me away from you, he threatened us-it had to happen." He says softly kissing along your jaw, "This is what happens to things that try to keep us apart." He pulls you close, one hand on your head pressing you into his chest. "I'll always protect us."

#yananswers #anon submission #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x y/n #delmont brothers #yandere oc x reader #marco delmont #marcos delmont x reader #yandere oc marcos

162 notes · View notes

yelena-bellova · 9 months

Text

Heartfirst: A Ted Lasso Story - Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fourteen: All That You Are

Plot: A chaotic press conference precedes a match that ends in violence.

Word Count: 5.2k

Warnings: f!reader, language, minor violence

A/N: I’m gonna chalk this week’s chapters up to having some free time and also being really motivated to get to the next few. Phew, let me tell you…this is the last chance I’m giving y’all to breathe. The final act kicks off in the next chapter and we don’t stop till the very end…so everybody enjoy the fluff and the jokes while you’ve got them 🙃

Let me know if you’d like to be tagged and, as always, enjoy!

————————

AFC Richmond’s hot streak just…kept…going.

They were killing it, both at matches and training. More importantly, they were happy. Joyful, even. Which meant everyone else was too.

More and more fans started showing up to watch training till eventually, the stands were packed. Y/n had begun to come out more often, genuinely enjoying watching the boys practice, and had found a way to make it a PR matter. She helped get the crowd riled up, engaging with them and encouraging them to cheer and chant for their players. She’d collected whatever merchandise they had a surplus of, pens or coffee mugs usually, and made a game of handing them out to the fans that came. Ted had encouraged her to keep doing it, it only further fostered the atmosphere he wanted to create.

Y/n hurried upstairs one day in particular, having missed the alarm set on her phone while she was hauling a bag of freebies from the gift shop to her office. She was never late and felt like she was going to burst into flames for being so.

“Whoa,” Ted called, just a few steps behind her, “Someone call Allyson Felix. Let her know she better watch her back.”

Y/n hung back on the landing to catch her breath, falling back in step once Ted caught up. “We ran out of the mugs the other day but I’ve got coasters and coozies for this afternoon.”

“Ooh,” Ted exclaimed, “You’ve been killin’ it in the swag department, missy. Everyone’s a little more hyped knowing they get a prize just for participation.”

Y/n grunted, “Trophies for doing nothing is also why my generation hates work, so don’t applaud me yet.”

They entered Rebecca’s office laughing only to find the atmosphere contrasting their good moods. Spread out on the couch, Keeley had her face buried in Rebecca’s lap.

“Uh-oh,” Ted announced his presence, “When girl-talk turns into girl-hug, you know that either means something horrible’s happened, or absolutely nothing at all.”

“Please say nothing at all,” Y/n set her purse down and grabbed the takeaway box Rebecca had ordered for her.

“Jack’s ghosting Keeley,” their boss explained.

“Oh, no,” Ted frowned.

Y/n sunk into the cushion beside Keeley, rubbing her shoulder as the blonde snuggled back under Rebecca’s arm.

“First, she wants to go on a break,” Ted recounted, “And now the old digital Irish goodbye. Which is a term I never really understood. ‘Cause I got a buddy back home named Seamus O’Malley, and that son of a gun hugs folks goodbye for, like, twenty minutes before he leaves anywhere.”

Y/n smiled down at her salad. The last few months may have softened her, but decades could pass and Ted would remain the same.

“Yeah,” he looked to Keeley, “Sorry to hear about that. Hey, I did make you some biscuits, you know, just to soften the blow.”

“Oh, thanks Ted,” Keeley took the pink package from him and opened it. Her eye blew open, “What? There’s like forty quid in here.”

“Well, I didn’t know you were gonna be here till this morning,” Ted explained, “No time to do anything special so I just tossed a little cash in there.”

Keeley nodded, “That is very sweet. Thank you, Ted.”

“Ain’t nothin’ to it but to do it,” he shrugged, turning to Rebecca, “Hey, boss. You mind if I skip the press conference today? Michelle and I got these parent-teacher meetings I don’t wanna miss.”

Rebecca shrugged and smiled, “Of course, Ted. Family first.”

“I appreciate it.”

“So…” Y/n trailed off, “Who’s next in line?”

A metaphorical lightbulb went off over Keeley’s head. “We could have Roy do it,” she suggested, “I know he hates that stuff, but he is really good at it.”

Y/n struggled to see the “good” part of how Roy handled the press. On her last count, he’d cussed out no more than six reporters.

“I mean, you know, fine by me,” Ted replied.

Rebecca agreed, “Great idea.”

“Look at you,” Ted smiled at Keeley, “Heartbroken, but still kickin’ butt.”

“I mean, I’m not heartbroken,” Keeley fidgeted in her seat, “It’s more like heart-bent.”

“Heart-bent,” Ted mused, “I like that. It’s a great title for a country song. You know, like,” he began to sing, “I’m heart-bent, in my apartment, ‘cause all that you left, was your fart scent.”

“Alright. Goodbye, Ted,” Rebecca cued him up to leave, though Keeley was laughing and Y/n was smiling through a bite of spinach.

“And now that you’re gone,” Ted continued on his way out to the hall, “I wrote this song, ‘cause all you left was, the smell of your farts.”

Y/n pointed to the door with her fork, “Speaking on behalf of our homeland, we can do better than that.”

Rebecca snorted and Keeley rested her head on Y/n’s shoulder.

“Right,” she held out her hand, “Show me.”

Keeley handed it over and Y/n bore witness to the mile long chain of texts her boss had sent their boss. It was embarrassing to say the least, but Y/n wasn’t about to kick Keeley when she was already laid out.

“Wow,” she strained as she scrolled.

“I know,” Keeley moaned.

“It’s like a river,” Y/n mused as she surfed the rest of the blue bubbles, “Can you promise one thing?”

Keeley hummed.

Y/n handed her phone back, “No more. She’s the one that stomped on you, she gets to do the groveling.”

And grovel she should. From what Keeley had told Y/n, Jack had handled their conversation regarding the video leak and the so-called “statement” horrifically. Jack seemed offended that Keeley had dared to have a meaningful relationship before her. It was jealousy where jealousy didn’t belong.

Whereas Y/n was still struggling to comprehend Jamie and Keeley ever having been together.

“I won’t, I won’t,” Keeley threw her phone on the other side of the couch, “I’m done.”

“Good,” Y/n nodded firmly.

“And that’s all you’ve got to say?” Keeley asked with a raised brow, “Nothing else?”

Y/n purposefully filled her mouth with a far-too-large bite of lettuce. She had plenty to say on the matter, Keeley knew damn well, but she was determined not to do so unless there was a confirmed break-up. After all, Jack was still their boss.

“Nope,” she mumbled.

Rebecca and Keeley descended into a fit of snorts.

Later, the three women were were seeing Keeley out to her car. Roy was just coming down the hall when they came off the last step.

“Oh, speak of the devil,” Rebecca said.

“Okay,” Roy replied before looking to his ex. An awkward silence came about for three seconds, though it felt like much longer. “Keeley.”

“Roy,” she nodded back to him.

Rebecca, blissfully, pulled them out. “So I need you to fill in for Ted at today’s press conference, if that’s okay.”

Roy didn’t hesitate in his reply, “Fuck no.”

Keeley, Rebecca and Y/n were just as unflinching as they waited for the answer to change.

“I mean,” Roy backtracked, “Why can’t Ted do it?”

His eyes went from woman to woman, waiting for one of them to answer or crack or…something.

Or nothing.

“I mean,” he pasted an unnatural grin to his face, “I’d love to.”

Y/n pointed a finger and nodded.

“Wonderful,” Rebecca replied, looking to Keeley and Y/n, “Shall we?”

The three of them left Roy in the hall, waiting for the inevitable reaction.

“Fuck,” he said rather loudly.

“I heard that,” Rebecca smirked.

“You still have my word,” Y/n remarked to her boss, “Send me up there, I’ll give them all they want to know. Sell everybody out. We’ll be on every front page in the country.”

Rebecca laughed, though Keeley missed it entirely. She was too busy glancing back at Roy.

—————————

Later in the afternoon, with the press conference a few minutes away from starting, Y/n swung by her office to pick up the notes she’d jotted down for Roy.

As she grabbed her notebook, she noticed there was a tea sitting next to her laptop.

She picked it up and examined it. It had come from the café, her name was written on the side in the big loopy handwriting Delilah, the barista, used. Assuming she wasn’t being set up to be poisoned, she took a sip and accepted the anonymous kindness.

Y/n made it down to the press room, meeting Higgins in the back and waiting for Roy to enter.

The door opened, and Beard walked through.

Y/n’s face dropped, “Um…”

“Where’s Ted?” Higgins asked.

“Where’s Roy?” Y/n corrected, “He’s supposed to be filling in.”

Beard took his seat at the desk, “Good afternoon. I know you all were expecting Ted, but he couldn’t make it today. I, however, will be happy to answer any and all questions, so,” he gestured to the desk filled with recorders and phones, “Fire away.”

Y/n took a breath, it wasn’t so bad. Beard, while not always the most sociable, was well-spoken and highly intelligent. He might have even been a better choice than Roy for his mood alone.

She regretted every thinking such a thing within two minutes.

“Look, man,” Beard sat back in the chair, “We can debate all day, Zeppelin versus Eagles, but one thing that is absolutely not up for debate is Walsh versus Page.”

“Oh, come off it,” the man fired back, “You honestly think it’s Walsh over Page?”

Y/n whispered to Higgins, “How did this go so far off the rails this fast?”

“I don’t know,” he replied.

She handed him her tea, “Hold this.”

Y/n quietly and calmly exited the room, breaking into a light jog in the hall and up the stairs. She knocked on Rebecca’s open door but didn’t bother to be invited in.

“Hi,” she greeted quickly, “Um, did something happen to Roy in the two hours since he was last seen?”

Rebecca’s brow lowered, “No, why?”

Y/n thinned her lips to a line, “You might wanna come downstairs.”

Without question, Rebecca followed her down and into the press room. Things had taken another turn in the minute Y/n had disappeared for.

“That is not what I said, Gary,” Beard angrily pointed to the reporter in question.

“I have your quote right here,” Gary chuckled.

“You did say it, Coach,” another on agreed.

“Stay out of this, Lloyd,” Beard snapped.

“Don’t shout at Lloyd,” Sarah, another reporter, said.

Y/n flattened her palm against her forehead.

“You said, and I quote,” Gary looked down at his notes, “‘Joe Walsh is a better guitarist than Jimmy Page.’ That’s what you said!”

Beard leaned back in his chair, exasperated by the fight he’d started. “Fine! I said it,” he spread his arms out in defeat, “But what I meant was that Joe Walsh, underrated. Jimmy Page,” he got stuck on the last word in his rage, “Overrated!”

The room was arguing amongst itself.

“I mean, Joe Walsh is a poet,” Beard went on, “Jimmy Page is a fucking court stenographer on Adderall.”

As the room digested the answer in shock, and amusement, Y/n reached out to Higgins, retaking her tea and taking a large swig as if it were wine.

“Are you out of your mind?” Gary laughed, “Page could beat Walsh with one string.”

“What do you mean, beat him?” Beard replied angrily, “It’s not a competition, man. It’s art, you fucking Neanderthal!”

Y/n, Higgins and Rebecca surged forward at the same time.

“Hello,” Rebecca cheerily announced, trying to draw the attention to herself while Higgins grabbed Beard, who was still arguing with Gary. “Hello! Hello!”

Y/n acted as a shield for Higgins as he walked Beard out of the room, dropping him in the side hall. But not before Beard could get in one last insult.

“‘Stairway to Heaven’” is a glorified fingering exercise, and you all know it!”

Higgins smiled at the press as he shut the door, Y/n blindly reaching behind to help him push against Beard’s weight.

“I can’t think of the last time I was able to be here with all you absolutely…” Rebecca spoke loudly over the noise of Beard still yelling into the door. Y/n and Higgins blocked his face from view. “Just brilliant members of the press down here in the pressroom. So with that in mind, I would love to take some questions. Come on,” Rebecca spread her arms welcomingly, “Absolutely ask me anything.”

“Oh, shit,” Y/n mumbled. This wasn’t any better.

Marcus from The Independent announced himself when Rebecca nodded towards him.

“Hello there, Marcus,” she greeted, “How are you?”

“Very well.”

“Good, good.”

“Miss Welton,” Marcus asked, “In your opinion, who’s the greatest classic rock guitarist of all time?”

Rebecca stuttered a bit, stuck on the question that had her blanking out on any rock she’d ever listened to.

“The, uh…” she struggled, “The…guy from Cream.”

Higgins snorted, Y/n buried her head in her hand as the pressroom quietly and collectively laughed.

“Uh…” Rebecca began.

“I think,” Y/n came to stand beside her boss, grinning abnormally large, “That in the wake of our recent wins, we’re all still a bit hazy from the excitement. I think we’re going to call this for the day, but we’ll be ready and waiting for you after the match this Sunday against Brighton. Thank you so much!”

Y/n placed her hands on Rebecca’s back and marched her towards the door.

“Uh, Ms. Y/l/n,” Marcus spoke up, “Care to comment on who you think the greatest guitarist is?”

“Keith Richards,” Y/n answered, “Purely because he’s still standing.”

Whatever reaction she’d caused, she didn’t hear them. Her and Higgins had gotten Rebecca safely out into the hall.

“Sorry about that,” she shuddered.

“You’re alright,” Y/n patted her shoulder.

“‘The guy from Cream,’” Higgins giggled.

“Yes, all right,” Rebecca twisted to face Higgins, “Don’t start with me, Leslie! I panicked,” she took a seething breath, “I’m going to murder Roy Kent.”

“If you don’t, I will,” Y/n exhaled.

“Look, Roy not doing press is just Roy being Roy,” Higgins stated.

Y/n gestured to the door they’d just come out of, “And look where it got us.”

“Well, I am sick of Roy being Roy,” Rebecca spat, hands on her hips, “So it’s time for Rebecca to be Rebecca.”

Without another word, she marched off in the direction of the training room. The boys would nearly be done with their afternoon workout.

“Oh, yes,” Higgins agreed, “Absolutely- I couldn’t,” he turned with Y/n to watch Rebecca strut away from them, “Yeah. There you go. Yes! Ooh!”

Y/n breathed a laugh, if anyone rubbed off on her from Richmond, she hoped it was Rebecca. There was a fierceness inside her that Y/n had never possessed in her life, but she’d have liked to.

“Stay for the aftermath?” Higgins asked.

“Oh, definitely,” Y/n nodded. She wasn’t going to miss the opportunity to stare down Roy.

Quick enough, Rebecca marched back up the stairs, Roy following thirty seconds later. While Higgins’ best frown was still his worst smile, Y/n glared at the coach unflinchingly. He did his best to ignore them both on the way up to Rebecca’s office.

“Another day,” Y/n mumbled, her and Higgins heading their separate ways for the rest of the afternoon.

As she walked down the hall, some of the boys came out of the training room. She high-fived them before coming up on Jamie, bringing up the rear.

He flicked the cup of tea, still in Y/n’s hand, and smirked. “Cheers.”

Y/n looked back and met his waiting gaze, the two of them sharing a smile. The days at Nelson Road grew more unpredictable the further into the season they got, but some things were as constant as breathing.

——————

The day of the Brighton match started as normal as any other. Y/n made the familiar trek to the owner’s box, taking a seat between Keeley and Higgins, and braced for the ninety minutes of nerves she both hated and loved.

“Oh, it’s Jack,” Keeley announced as she scrolled her phone. The three of them sat to attention as they waited to hear the text, “She’s saying that she’s in Argentina…for the next couple of months.”

“Ouch,” Higgins commented. Y/n scoffed while Rebecca pulled Keeley into her side.

“Well,” Keeley took a breath, “I think our break is actually an ‘up.’ So now that Jack is officially my ex,” she looked between the group, “Please feel free to say any of the things that you didn’t like about her.”

Rebecca sighed, “Well-“

“Ooh,” Higgins chimed in, “Her handshake was way too firm. You know-“ he groaned and grunted as he imitated the action, “I get it. You’re friendly. Good riddance.”

Y/n bit down on her bottom lip, trying to keep the comments from flying out her mouth.

“Something you’d like to say, Y/n?” Keeley asked knowingly.

Shaking her head, she tried to go the diplomatic route. “Just want to watch some football.”

Keeley slowly nodded, staring out at the field with her.

“And she’s a fucking asshole,” Y/n muttered as low as she could to let only Keeley hear it. They smiled to one another.

Right off the bat, the Greyhounds were struggling. Isaac, usually so focused, was off his game. He cost them a goal kick and earned Brighton a corner instead. It wasn’t like him and the fans were letting their displeasure be known.

Even worse, when Colin lost an easy goal, Isaac went after him. The two of them argued until Jamie and Sam, playing peacemaker, held Isaac back from following Colin any further.

Y/n frowned, something had to have happened before the match. The boys were far more in sync than this, and they sure as hell didn’t fight each other.

The first half ended on the heels of Dani just nearly making a goal, only for Brighton to block it. The score was 1-nil as the Greyhounds trudged back to the locker room.

Higgins, Y/n, Rebecca and Keeley went silent as the fifteen minute break began. There wasn’t anything to say.

Y/n’s eyes were glazing over the crowd on the opposite side of the stadium when a commotion started. She followed the noise to the tunnel to see Isaac, leaping into the stands and grabbing one of the fans.

“Oh my gosh,” she mumbled. Keeley, Rebecca and her all rose to their feet.

With the distance, the scene could hardly be seen properly, but it appeared that Isaac was holding the fan by the shirt and yelling in his face. The ref had never pulled the red card out so fast. It was unprecedented and unacceptable.

Higgins rushed out his seat, the women moving to make room for him down the aisle. Y/n’s eyes followed Roy as he helped Isaac down and started shouting something to the security guards.

The scene died down as quickly as it began. The fan was escorted out of the stadium and the Greyhounds disappeared into the tunnel.

“What the hell was that?” Rebecca finally asked.

“I don’t know,” Keeley breathed.

Internally, Y/n began to feel some sort of panic build. She couldn’t decipher the complexities of it, all she knew was she had to move.

“Where are you going?” Rebecca asked as Y/n slid past them.

“I don’t know,” she mumbled Keeley’s same answer, already climbing the stairs.

She hurried through the suite, past all the fans opening social media to post that they’d witnessed the fight themselves. Past all the fans in the concourse exclaiming how McAdoo was about to fucking kill the twat. Y/n couldn’t hear any of it as she made for the personnel-only entrance into the building.

When she made it to the empty hall outside the locker room, she faltered. Her immediate reaction would be to run in, but she knew it was far from appropriate. Her hand instinctively reached toward the door, even with feet of space between her and it. She couldn’t.

Nearly as soon as she’d thought it, Isaac came bursting through the door, unaware of her presence as he stalked to the boot room. He slammed that door shut and Y/n flinch at the sound.

Ten seconds later, Roy came out much more peacefully, but still with purpose.

Y/n stepped forward, her movements and her voice hesitant, “Hey-“

Roy could see the concern etched deeply in her face and touched her arm as he passed. “I got it.”

It wasn’t often that Roy wasn’t scowling, wasn’t speaking like he smoked a pack of cigarettes a day. For him to speak softly, to voluntarily comfort someone, he had to have meant it.

Y/n stood frozen as he shut the door to the boot room, all the pieces of her reaction making sense suddenly. After Isaac had attacked the fan, her first thought hadn’t been about PR. It hadn’t been about the clean-up her and Keeley would have to do, the stress of it all. It hadn’t had anything to do with what the internet would think or the fans or anyone.

Her first thought was to wonder if Isaac was okay.

She knew by now she cared about AFC Richmond. She had a special affection for Rebecca and their weekly tea. Keeley had cracked her way past Y/n’s gates simply by being herself. Ted was the nicest slice of home she could have gotten.

This was different. This was caring so deeply for the team that she was standing in the hall, unmoving until she knew they were all alright.

It was no longer about letting them in, Y/n knew, it was about how deeply etched in her heart they were.

She waited, waited, the whole fifteen minutes, hearing only the muffled mumbles of the team’s conversation through the doors. When they cheered and exited the room, their spirits seemingly lifted, none of them even noticed her against the wall.

Y/n moved to stand outside the boot room, catching Colin and Trent as the last ones to exit the locker room. Trent threw her a small salute that she matched, before heading out to his own seat. She still wasn’t leaving until she knew all was well.

Eventually, Roy came out of the boot room with Isaac in tow. The disgraced captain glanced up at her as he passed, Y/n made a point to squeeze his arm. He didn’t flinch at her touch, but didn’t make a point of lingering as he headed to the locker room to wait the game out.

As Y/n inhaled, Roy nodded, “He’s alright.”

“Okay,” she whispered.

The two of them walked back to their separate paths, Roy heading out to the pitch and Y/n heading back to the owner’s box.

The match turned around after that, tremendously so. The Greyhounds had hit the pitch united once more, particularly Colin, who’d assisted in both goals that had led them to victory. Balance seemed to have been restored, and while Isaac would still be the most memorable part of the game, Colin’s efforts wouldn’t be forgotten.

And, as always, Y/n’s work began the moment the ref called it.

There were strict instructions from both Keeley and her to Higgins not to grab any of the players. They’d no doubt be asked about their captain’s actions and none of them needed to deal with that stress. Ted was the only one who could comfortably handle it.

They waited with Rebecca in the back of the room, Higgins and Trent joined them at the last minute.

“He’s on his way,” Higgins said.

“Thank you, Leslie,” Rebecca replied before turning to Keeley and Y/n, “You gave Ted some talking points?”

Keeley frowned, “No. I haven’t done that in a long time.”

“Not for a while,” Y/n added.

The side door opened before Rebecca could truly begin to worry. Where Ted should have strolled in, Roy did instead.

“Fuck,” Y/n whispered, punctuated by a gag from Higgins.

Roy took a seat at the desk, staring down the entire room. No one was wearing their surprise well.

“Yeah, alright, you got me today,” he growled, “Any questions?”

Every reporter’s hand went up, all of them shouting to get Roy’s attention.

“Fucking hell,” he mumbled before pointing to one of them, “You. Five-o’-clock shadow head.”

Gary, self-proclaimed Jimmy Page fan, stood up. “Coach Kent, do you or the organization condone what Isaac McAdoo did today?”

“What a stupid fucking question,” Roy was quick to reply, Rebecca, Higgins and Y/n all screwing their eyes shut. “‘Course we don’t. What Isaac did was awful. He was lucky he only got a red card.”

“Okay,” Gary relented, “So why’d he do it?”

Roy chuckled, looking like he was nearly about to say something before stopping himself. Instead of cursing or snarking, he settled back in his chair.

“When I was first coming up through Sunderland, there was an old-timer on the team,” Roy began, “Local guy. He and his wife were about to have their first kid. So during training one day, I made a joke that statistically, I was probably the real dad. And the boys fell about laughing, but he went fucking nuts. He battered me. Properly. I had a black eye, chipped tooth, three broken ribs…I couldn’t play for six games. He got booted off the team. After that,” Roy shook his head, “No club would go near him.”

“Then in the summer, after I could breathe again,” he went on, “I bumped into him in a pub. And I got the chance to say sorry for my stupid fucking joke. And he got to tell me he and his wife had lost the baby a month before all that went down. He hadn’t told anyone. Kept it all inside.”

The room had fallen hush, save for the occasional click of a camera.

“Look, I get that some people think if they buy a ticket,” Roy’s voice regained its strength, “They’ve got the right to yell whatever abusive shit they want at footballers. But they’re not just footballers. They’re also people. And none of us,” he dragged his finger across the room, “Know what is going on in each other’s lives.”

“So for Isaac to do what he did today, even though it was wrong,” Roy pointed to his chest, “I give him love. And as for why he did what he did,” he leaned closer to the microphones, “That’s none of my fucking business.”

That was it. There was nothing left to say. Roy had handled it with more grace and patience than anyone could have expected.

Y/n smiled to herself, “Okay.”

“Next question,” he called to the room, which erupted back into shouts and flashes, “Yeah, new Trent.”

“Coach,” Marcus spoke up, “Let’s talk about Colin Hughes.”

“Yeah, he’s a hell of a player,” Roy answered, “And a great man. I think we’ve underused him.”

“I think you’re right,” Marcus said.

“Glad we agree,” Roy replied, “I prefer you to old Trent.”

The room laughed before Roy called on the next reporter. Rebecca and him shared a look of acknowledgement, this was making up for his ditching of the last presser.

Roy went on answering questions a few minutes longer before abruptly calling it. As everyone was saying their goodbyes for the evening, Y/n caught him in the hall.

“You did good,” she complimented.

Roy grunted a little, still bad at taking praise about anything other than his professional abilities. “Sorry if I…made your job harder the other day.”

She shrugged, “No more so than anyone else. You’re just more of a dick about it.”

Having said it with a smile Roy knew Y/n wasn’t serious…totally. His lips quirked up ever so slightly.

“Night, Roy,” Y/n said, hitting his arm as she walked past him.

“Cheers,” he replied, heading his own way.

—————————

While the day was a victory, Jamie was exhausted. Some of the boys had gone out to celebrate, he was one of the ones who decided heading home was more appealing.

A ring of the doorbell dragged him off his couch and into the entryway. He opened the door, his chest both filling and draining at the sight.

Y/n was leant against the frame, a soft smile on her lips. She held up a paper takeaway bag.

“I won’t tell Roy if you don’t,” she promised.

Jamie chuckled under his breath and moved to let her in.

It wasn’t just the match that’d worn Jamie out. Colin’s confession in the locker room was…heavy. Weighing most on Colin, of course, but when the celebratory noise had died down and Jamie was left to his own thoughts, he found they were louder than normal.

Y/n showing up only acted as an amplifier.

Here was Colin, hiding away one of the biggest parts of himself. Forced to keep the person he loved in the shadows for fear of the public’s reaction. He couldn’t hold them, couldn’t be seen with them, couldn’t claim them. The person who meant everything to him.

And here was Jamie, with the woman he cared about most standing before him, feeling the weight of his privilege.

“Samir was working tonight,” Y/n announced as she slipped off her shoes, “He kept asking me if I was buying for us both. I think he slipped in some extra-“

She was cut off by Jamie, wrapping his arms around her in a full embrace.

Jamie wasn’t good with words. He was barely good with feelings. And expressing them was a whole other matter. What he did know to be true was that Y/n was the singular most important person in his life. Whether he’d realized it before or not, he wasn’t sure. But it was suddenly crushing him, he was overwhelmed by his affection for her. She was the best part of his worst times, the highlight of his days. The literal sunshine lighting up the darkest parts of him, the parts everyone else looked at and ran from. But not her, never her.

Y/n stumbled a bit, Jamie steadying her as he tugged her to his body. It wasn’t like they never hugged, but this felt different. The whole day had been so emotionally charged, she wasn’t surprised that he was feeling some of it. She wasn’t sure what had happened in the locker room between halves or after the game, but whatever it was had done something to him, and she apparently was the solution.

The truth was, Jamie was the first person Y/n hadn’t tired of being there for. She wanted to save him at every possible opportunity. To be there for him in whatever way he needed her. Lord knows he had done it enough for her. He’d looked at her ugliest parts and matched them, the two of them somehow growing together through their horrible histories. Some relationships were easily replaced, but there could never be another Jamie.

Y/n slid her arms around Jamie’s back, stealing some of the comfort for herself.

Jamie rested his chin on her shoulder, shutting his eyes and letting the moment wash over him. The world could stop, just for a moment, and it would be there when they broke apart. But for now, Y/n was all he wanted to feel.

They stayed in the hall, clinging to one another, having only unwrapped the first layer of what all they felt meant.

—————

Heartfirst Taglist: @lalla-04p @optimisticsandwichgladiator @makingmunson94 @taytaylala12 @storysimp @sokkigarden @lightninginab0ttle @poohkie90 @alipap3 @verra-nerevarine @shineforever19 @spaceagechimera @burnafter-reading @qardasngan @cyberpvnk-enthusiast @sogoodtoheritsvicious @buckybarnex @angelsunflxwer @blueanfield @thewildestwonderland @sablecities @oxxolovemelikeyoudooxxo @strawberryacethingz @mentalistfan @tortilla-maria1 @katdahlali @for-fuck-sake-im-alive @glitterquadricorn @jamieolivia27 @imvibin69 @katlizada @lil-tracys @fanaticalfantasist @heyitz-julia @cactajuice @peachyy-tea @notalxx @rockchickrebel @anxiety-prime-max @loveforaugust @jellycolors @actuallybarb @heletsmelovehim @lovinnscarletknight @imfalling-inlove @leslieiscrying @meg-ro @littlemisssunshine192 @beboldbebravethings @maydayfigment @spencerreidsbookclub @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @lemoonandlestars @im-a-weirdo-for-life @mindless-rock (tags cont. in comments ❤️)

#ted lasso fic #ted lasso fanfic #ted lasso fanfiction #ted lasso imagine #jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt imagine #ted lasso x reader #rebecca welton x reader #keeley jones x reader #heartfirst

457 notes · View notes

satosugusandwich · 4 months

Text

❝𝐘𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐤𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲…❞

Gojo x reader with a cooch not exactly fem reader, a drabble I wrote in like 30 minutes cuz I love love love love love subby gojo as much as I love dom gojo and sub gojo is like ideal sub idk about yall but he just is… it’s A LOT of dialogue yall

LOVE the idea of Satoru letting you slowly stroke him pretending like he’s the one in control here and that you so desperately want to get him off but in reality he’s actually too scared to ask you to take control.

Teasing, humiliation, praise, mention of panties, begging, needy nasty gojo, gojo trying really hard to be dominant but he breaks, hella dirty talk, hint of cum eating, gojo really loves reader, hes cocky at the end

So while you’re gently stroking his cock, admiring how it looks and how hard it feels in your hand, he’s watching his breathing, doing his best to breathe slow and not get too excited. You’re watching him too, wanting to see how he responds and reacts to your touch.

Satoru closed his pretty eyes for a moment and whimpered softly, making you curious. You swipe your thumb over the tip, smearing his precum around.

“That’s it…” He says, the words slurred.

“You like this Satoru?” You ask him, smiling to yourself. “You seem to like it more than me.”

His pride takes a quick hit but it’s overwhelmed immediately when he sees you grinning so eagerly and you continue to follow his orders and tease him relentlessly.

“Y-yeah.” He whines.

“Y-yeah?” You mock him, catching on to what he wants.

“Fuck y/n.” He rasps out. “Go faster now.” He demands, holding on to any semblance of control he has left.

“Can the pretty boy beg?” You cock your head to the side and bat your eyelashes. “Come on I know you want to. Beg a little bit.”

He can’t help but grin a little, his embarrassment peeking out through his desire.

“Come on Satoru… can my baby beg?” You shift around, going from your knees to all fours, a hand still firmly around his shaft as you hover over his body. You can’t help but admire how his shirt has lifted up to give a peek of his abdomen where his white happy trail leads down to his engorged, tortured cock. “You look so pretty, ya know.”

He has his arm over his eyes, as if to hide his face. Poor baby, he’s so embarrassed.

“I’m gonna stop if I don’t hear you.” You tell him, placing a brief peck on his chin.

“Don’t do this to me, y/n.” He can’t hide his grin, or the heat in his body, or each breath that’s almost labored, or even how much his cock has somehow hardened even more since you’ve started to tease him.

“Do what? Whatever I’m doing you like, don’t you?” You remove your hand from his pretty cock and lick the remnants of precum off your finger.

Poor Gojo, he happens to look at you as you take your fingers into your mouth. “Fuuuuccck.” He whimpers out. “You’re killin’ me baby.” He wish he could flip around and hide but you’ve got him at your mercy now. “Can you keep touchin’ me?” He manages to say, each word dragging out.

“Satoru.” You say his name and that’s it.

“Please.” He’s in your hands now.

“See that wasn’t hard! I do it for you all the time. You just like to be stubborn, huh?” You rest back on your knees and the second your hand wraps around him again, he lets out a labored sigh as if he’s been waiting all day. You can’t help but giggle at his reaction, he’s so cute when he’s needy!

“Y/n, I’m sorry for being so stubborn. Please don’t stop touching me, I need it.” He’s really truly is broken now, he removed his arm from his face and is perfectly desperate in all his glory. “I want you to get me off so badly.”

“What a good boy.” You go a bit faster now, steadily speeding up as you stroke him off. He looks at you, watching as you grin back at him while you stroke his cock relentlessly.

“So good, so good.” He repeats under his breath, his hips twitching under your touch. You shift around so that you’re sitting on his legs, keeping him still. “Oh fuck.” He can now see your panties peeking out under your shirt now that your legs are spread to keep his still. That little glimpse has his mind moving in every direction now. What he wouldn’t give to see you slide yourself down onto his needy, fat cock. Hell, he’s feelin’ extra perverted, why not stroke him with your panties? That’d send him into pure euphoria.

“Satoruuu,” you purr, “you’re getting close aren’t you baby?”

“Mhm, you’re doing so well, it feels so good.”

“Aw, thank you, I think you’re doing even better. I know how hard it is for you to let go of your pride.” You tease him, half-serious and half-joking.

Clearly, he’s loving it, especially as his eyes roll back and now his hands are pulling at the pillowcases behind his head.

You go a bit faster now, wanting to see him cum all over your hand. “What’s the magic word?” You ask him, furiously pumping his cock to no end. His pretty pink tip turned an angrier red with all your teasing and now the blush covering his whole body is mirroring it perfectly. You could tell he was gonna give out soon. His panting and half-lidded eyes combined with the sweat pouring down his forehead. Man, even when he fucks you, he’s so cool and collected, but apparently all it takes to get him at your mercy is just to down upon him what’s done upon to you. Who would’ve thought the easiest way to break Satoru Gojo is to make him whine and beg a little bit.

“Please, please—please let me cum! Please!” His voice gets louder as he begs you and he doesn’t look away from your eyes. “Please y/n I wanna cum baby, please!”

You’re ecstatic listening to him beg so well. “Oh of course baby, cum all you want. Lemme see your pretty cock explode.”

He releases with a thank you sputtering from his mouth, similar to the pearly streams of white spilling from his tortured cock. It’s like he’d been holding it in all day, the way he cums all over your hand. You watch as he can’t decide if he wants to smile or cry as he rides out the rest of his orgasm, thrusting up into your slowing hand.

“I fucking love you.” He gasps, his body finally relaxing after the release of all that tension. “I’m so in love with you.” He leans up and pulls your shoulder down to lay on top of him.

You giggle at him. “Still so needy. You know I have cum all over my hand.” He tuts at you and grabs your wrist, taking a kitten lick of his cum from your hand. “Oh ew!! You’re nasty nasty.” You laugh again at him.

He runs his hand along your back. “You swallow mine all the time don’t get why you’re calling me nasty. What kinda chef doesn’t taste his work?” He sticks out his tongue at you.

“Yeah you’re damn nasty. Nasty as hell. Needs to be put on a list nasty.” You both keep grinning at each other, even as you rise up to get a towel for your needy, nasty boy that’s in love with you.

“Yeah go ahead, leave then, you’ll be back.” He’s already back to his egotistical self, looking at you like you were the one that just begged permission to cum.

You couldn’t even try to pretend like you’re annoyed all you could do is smile at the man. “Satoru, I love you too.”

He went red again. “Yeah. Damn straight.”

#gojo satoru #gojo x reader #jjk x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojo smut #jjk #jjk smut #satoru gojo #cockygojocockygojocockygojocockygojo

176 notes · View notes

idontgiveaflyinggrayson69 · 5 months

Text

and we're taking parking lot risks

Author: Nat / @idontgiveaflyinggrayson69 & KO / @thirteenisles

Tagging: @smileysvech @pyotrkochetkov @hoesforthecanes @hockeywritingcollection

Relationship: Andrei x Kat

Warning: Smut. Unprotected sex. Daddy kink. Sexual choking

Summary: Andrei deserves a little treat after his first game back.

Word Count: 4k

Comments: Yes, I know this is late and now he’s out AGAIN. But let’s not focus on that and instead focusing on how happy he and Kat were when he came back (the first time). xx

(gif by Queen Katie @pyotrkochetkov, i couldn't find it in the search and i HAD to use this gif because HE'S FLEXING HIS TITTIES LIKE FUCK DREI)

Kat pulled her hand from Andrei’s to lean against the hood of his lambo and she bit her lip as she gripped his tie and pulled him closer. “You should fuck me here,” she told him and ran her other hand down his chest to palm him through his slacks.

His jaw went slack as his eyes widened. “In the garage?”

She shook her head as she hummed. “No, let’s drive out to the main parking lot and you can fuck me on the hood of your lambo. How does that sound, big boy?”

Andrei raised his brows, but the corner of his lip twitched up as he bit his lip before he cupped her throat and kissed her deeply. He swallowed her moan and pressed himself flush against her. “I have no idea what I did to deserve you,” he said against her lips.

“I ask myself the same thing,” she replied, voice muffled by his lips, and she tried to pull him closer by his tie. “Would it help to know I’m not wearing panties?”

There was nothing gentle about the way Andrei hiked her dress up her hips and pushed her legs open before he groaned loudly. She wasn’t kidding. “Fuck me, kisa,” he groaned.

“I’m trying,” she giggled. “Lots of time to make up for. And lots to celebrate.” Her smile softened as she ran her hand up to cup the back of his neck, “it was really nice to see you on the ice again, Drei.”

He hummed but didn’t pull his eyes from her pussy as he bit his lip. She hadn’t let him go down on her since he cut his chin open, and he wondered if he’d be able to convince her to let him eat her pussy tonight. But Kat tugged at his hair and forced his gaze up as she gave him a stern look. “Don’t even think about it. You got stitches on your chin; we’re not risking an infection.”

Andrei rolled his eyes and mumbled his displeasure in Russian. “Killin’ me, kisa. You know how much I love being right here,” he said and cupped her pussy in his big hand.

She was already wet for him; she had been for most the game thinking about her plan and she moaned softly. “I love it just the same, but you just got back on the ice, baby. I don’t need to be blamed for an infection because someone got cum in their stitches.”

“Would be worth it,” he mumbled and easily pressed two thick fingers into her, and he smirked when she gasped loudly. He curled his fingers up, teasing her g- spot before he pulled his fingers from her and brought them to his lips, licking them clean with a low moan.

His eyes darkened as Kat looked up at him with flushed cheeks. He wrapped his arm around her waist and hauled her to her feet before he opened the passenger door and helped her in, and he practically ran around the car to get into the driver’s seat. The car barely had time to turn on before he put it in gear and started out of the garage.

Kat laughed at his eagerness, but she couldn’t deny the butterflies in her stomach. They were actually doing this. This had to be one of the most risqué́ things they had ever done, and it really turned her on. It really turned both of them on. Andrei was hard in his slacks as he drove out to the parking lot with his lip between his teeth, one hand on the wheel while the other rested high on Kat’s thigh, underneath that gorgeous little mini red dress she wore just for him.

The moment she stepped out in it earlier he had been ready to take her right then and there. All he had to do it push that little skirt up and sink into her, but she wouldn’t let him. She told him it would be worth the wait, but he didn’t realize what she had up her sleeve.

They pulled out of the tunnel and Andrei circled around and found a parking spot at the back of a nearly empty lot. It felt like it took forever but it was dark and

perfect. As soon as he turned the car off, Kat leaned over the center console and pulled him in for a kiss by his tie.

He moaned against her lips and easily hauled her onto his lap before he pushed her dress up so she could straddle him comfortably. She wrapped her arms around him and pressed her body against his, grinding down on his cock. Ever since the doctor gave them the okay, she had been utterly insatiable. She wanted Andrei constantly. She needed Andrei constantly. Not that he was complaining in the slightest.

He kneaded her ass and moaned loudly against her lips. He was half tempted to just undo his slacks and let her ride him just like that, but he stopped himself. He wanted to take her on the hood. Ever since he got the lambo he wanted to fuck her on the hood, but he hadn’t had the chance until now.

“Kat, baby,” he whispered against her lips, his accent thick. She ran her hands up his chest as she kissed his neck and hummed and response.

“I need you. I know you can feel how bad I need you,” he groaned under her touch and fisted her hair gently to pull her back so he could look at her. His eyes were dark, and cheeks flushed, and she nipped at his bottom lip.

“Yeah,” she agreed. “I want you to fuck me on the hood of your car.”

He groaned loudly and let her open the door. She nearly fell out of the car as she stumbled on her heels, but Andrei caught her. He wrapped his arm around her waist and steadied her as he guided her to hood of the car.

She leaned back against the hood and pulled him flush against her by his tie before she kissed him deeply. Andrei easily took control of the kiss as he reached between them to undo his pants and he groaned in relief before he untucked his shirt and pressed himself flush against her.

“Fuck me,” Kat whispered and nipped at his lower lip. “Take what’s yours.”

Andrei groaned as he nodded before he pulled at his tie and let it drop to the ground and quickly undid his shirt. He kissed her deeply and gripped her hips to hoist her up onto the hood. He only broke the kiss to pull her legs around his waist before he pushed his boxers down to free his cock.

“I don’t have a condom,” he confessed as he ran the tip of his cock over her slit, his eyes locked on her pussy before he lined himself up with her entrance.

“Then pull out.” She replied through clenched teeth, “come on, Drei. We don’t have all night.”

He didn’t need to be told twice and pressed into her, groaning as loud as Kat moaned. She felt so fucking good around him, and he knew she could take it so he didn’t bother to take his time and he bottomed out quickly before he kissed her roughly.

She moaned against his lips and locked her ankles together, pulling him closer. He stumbled over and braced himself on the car hood, one hand on either side of her head as he rocked into her, only able to pull out halfway with how tight she held onto him.

“Drei. Fuck, Drei,” she moaned. The only thing she could focus on was him and the pleasure he gave her.

“You have no idea how fucking hot you are letting me fuck you on the lambo,” he groaned before he nipped at her bottom lip. “I’m the luckiest man in the world.”

“I’d let you fuck me anywhere,” she moaned. “I’m yours, Andrei. All fucking yours.”

“All mine,” he agreed and fucked her harder, trying to get deeper and her eyes rolled back. Between the feeling of him, the coolness of the car and the thrill of maybe getting caught, it was overwhelming in the best way.

“I’m close,” she moaned as she fluttered around him.

“I know,” he breathed. He could feel her fluttering around him, and he took her hands in his and pinned them above her head as he pressed his chest against hers. “I want you to cum for me. I need you to cum for me, kisa.”

That changed the angle enough that he brushed her g-spot and it sent her over the edge. His hips stuttered and he cursed in Russian, but he fucked her through it. She felt so indescribably amazing, and he moaned loudly as his rhythm got sloppy. He was close, too.

He kissed her again, needing to feel as much of her as possible and she tightened her legs around him as she clenched down on him, and it sent him over the edge. He didn’t even bother to try to pull out as he came, pressing his body into hers, pinning her between him and the car as he filled her up.

They stayed like that for a long moment before Kat loosened her grip on him and he released her wrists as they caught their breath before he kissed her again, softer than before. “You’re so fucking perfect,” he said against her lips.

“So are you, Andrei,” she smiled and kissed him again. “I love you so much. I’m so glad you’re doing what you love again.”

“I’m glad I am, too,” he hummed and rolled his hips into hers again, smirking as her breath caught in her throat. “Very happy to be doing you again.”

She giggled before she bit her lip. “Round two?” She suggested with a grin, “bend me over the car this time?”

Andrei’s smirk slipped as his jaw went slack but he nodded. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you’re trying to drain me, kisa.”

“Maybe I am,” she giggled and pulled the straps of her dress down and smirked when his eyes immediately went to her chest.

His cock twitched inside her as he groaned loudly before he leaned in to kiss down her chest. Her breasts had gotten so big from nursing, and he couldn’t get enough of them. He loved her breasts before but now they were so big and sensitive, and he loved them so much. If he had to keep knocking her up to keep her breasts like this, he absolutely would.

Kat sighed contently and ran her fingers through his hair as she arched into him. He nipped at her soft flesh and shamelessly left little marks in his wake for him to enjoy on her when she nursed later, all little reminders that he was the only one who could make her feel so good; that she belonged to him and only him.

She purposely clenched around him as she tried to encourage him, a little more bossy than normal. “Come on, I know you want to bend me over the hood and fuck me,” she told him.

“I do,” he agreed, but it was almost painful for him to pull out of her when he was already hard again. He bit his lip as he watched the way she clenched around nothing, and he couldn’t help himself.

If Kat got mad at him, well, it would be worth it.

“Come on,” she repeated and whined as she started to turn herself over, but Andrei forced her back onto her back before he got down on his knees. “Andrei—” She started, but her protested died the moment his tongue pressed against her pussy.

It was no secret Andrei knew how to eat pussy, but every circle of his tongue around her clit felt heavenly. Not that focusing on her clit was enough for him. Day and night Andrei dreamt of her taste, and he forced her legs open further, needing more of her. He moaned loudly as he ran his tongue over her slit, absolutely addicted to the taste of her.

Kat moaned loudly as her hand splayed along the hood looking for something, anything, to hold onto, but all she found was the smooth, cool hood of Andrei’s lambo. “Drei,” she moaned and rocked her hips up against his mouth, seeking more, needing more.

He moaned against her and roughly pinned her hips back down against the hood of his car and looked up at her with dark, hungry eyes. She whined when he pulled back, but it was only to spit on her pussy and he chuckled at the way her body shuddered before he dove back in and fucked her with his tongue, moaning at the way she fluttered around his tongue.

He could taste himself on her as his cum started to leak out of her, but that only made him harder. His cum was buried deep inside her and if he was lucky enough, it would give them another baby. That thought alone forced his tongue as deep inside her as he could as he tried to force his cum back inside her.

“Drei,” she moaned again, and her legs tightened around his head. He was rough as he forced them open, and she reached down to grip his hair. “Yes!” She cried, not caring who heard or who saw him make her feel so good.

He looked up at her with dark eyes, loving how blissed out she was. He loved how desperate she was for him, how loudly she moaned as he dug his fingers into her skin, and he surely left bruises along her thighs and hips.

Already sensitive from her first high, Kat moaned loudly and her second high built quickly. Andrei knew it as he felt her flutter around his tongue. He tried to pull her impossibly closer and ran his hand up her body to palm her breast. As soon as he pinched her nipple, it sent her over the edge. She shamelessly rolled her hips against his face, and he moaned loudly as she came. He desperately tried to pull her closer, wanting every drop of their mixed cum as he tried to draw out her high as long as he could.

Slowly, her moans turned to whines and she tugged hard on his hair, which only made him groan loudly against her. She clenched hard around nothing and rolled her hips back against his face. She needed more than his sinful mouth.

But she should have known Andrei wanted more than just one orgasm. One was never enough for Andrei.

Andrei pulled her closer wanting another high from her before he fucked her again. His grip tightened and he laid his arm over her hips to keep her still and his eyes closed as he focused on the taste of her.

It didn’t take much for her to cum again, pinned between him and the hood of his lambo. She gripped his hair as she moaned his name, but his tongue only emphasized her aching emptiness.

Andrei moaned as he drew her high out but as soon as she tugged desperately at his hair, he pulled back, his lips and chin shiny with her cum as he gripped her hips and forced her over, so her chest was pressed against the hood.

The skirt of her dress was hiked up around her hips and Andrei stepped back for a moment to admire the view. She clenched around nothing as she whined but he reached into his pocket and pulled his phone out and snapped a quick picture. When they got home, he’d add it to the secret folder he uses when he’s on the road and away from Kat.

“Quite the view, kisa,” he told her as he put his phone back in his pocket before he smacked her ass. “So fucking perfect.”

She gasped and pushed back against him. “Come on, big boy,” she teased and wiggled her ass. “Fuck me.”

“I will,” he groaned and squeezed her ass before he lined his cock up with her entrance and he slid in easily. She was so much wetter now that she had cum three times and was full of his cum and he loved it. He gripped her hip in one hand and her hair in the other. “You’re a dream come true,” he said, his words slurring together as he moaned.

She didn’t have anything to hold onto so all she could do is moan as Andrei pinned her to the car as he fucked her. “Jesus, fuck, oh my god,” she moaned loudly. She was so sensitive from her first three highs and her fourth was building quickly as he hit her g-spot with every thrust.

“No, not Jesus, just Drei,” he smirked and tightened his grip on her hip, wanting to leave fingerprint bruises on her pretty perfect skin.

“Harder, fuck me harder,” she begged and bit her lip. “Fuck me like you mean it, Daddy.”

He released her hair but only to wrap his hand around her throat, pulling her back against his chest as he fucked her harder, getting impossibly deeper before he bit down on her shoulder. “Keep talking like that and Daddy’s gonna have to put that dirty mouth to work,” he replied, his accent thick with lust.

Her eyes widened as she gasped. She knew she’d get a reaction out of him, but she didn’t expect it to be so good and she clenched hard around him as she came. Andrei’s jaw went slack but he fucked her through it, drawing her high out as much as he could.

“Yeah?” He asked breathlessly. “You like the idea of Daddy fucking your mouth right here where anyone could see?” His accent was thick as he fucked her hard and deep. He was so close himself, but he knew he could get another one out of her first.

Kat could barely get her words out, all of them slurred together. “Yes, yes, yes,” she chanted. The thought of being on her knees, practically naked and in her heels, sucking his cock where anyone could catch them? Yeah, she wanted that. She needed that.

He bit her neck again. “Cum on Daddy’s cock one more time and I’ll let you lick your own cum off my cock.”

“Fuck,” she whined loud enough that anyone a mile away could have heard her. “I’m so close, Daddy.”

He grazed his teeth over her jaw and tugged at her hair. “Cum for me, cum for Daddy, kisa.”

Her eyes rolled back, and her jaw went slack in a silent scream as she came hard, soaking his cock as she squirted, hands grasping desperately at the hood of the car looking for anything to hold onto as she shuddered.

“Fuck,” he moaned and rested more of his weight on her as is eyes closed. “Oh fuck, kisa.” His voice was breathy and the feeling of her cum literally dripping

down his balls sent him over the edge. He moaned loudly and buried his face into her neck as he came hard, filling her up again.

He shuddered above her and he needed a minute to catch his breath before he smoothed her hair back and kissed her jaw. “So good for me,” he praised her.

She couldn’t even talk; she was completely boneless. All she could do was gently grip his wrist and lean into his touch. She spent all night fantasizing about this, but she hadn’t expected it to go as well as it did. She had a plan in mind, but this exceeded it in every way.

He kissed her temple and ran his other hand up and down her side. “So, you don’t want to clean me up, huh?” He teased with a laugh and kissed her temple again as he pulled her closer.

It took her a moment to find her words. “Give me a moment you literally just fucked my brains out,” she replied, her voice breathy.

“Oh, did I?” He asked innocently but his smirk grew, and he squeezed her gently as he held her close.

She gave him a small smile and melted into his touch before she tapped his hand and pushed back against him. She moaned as it pushed his cock deeper inside her before wincing as he pulled out and she immediately clenched at the emptiness. She was shaky as she sunk down to her knees in front of the car and opened her mouth and stuck her tongue out for him.

Andrei’s eyes fluttered. He didn’t know if he had the stamina to go again, especially after his first game back, but seeing her on her knees, all fucked out with her make up smeared, he could feel himself start to harden again. “Fuck me,” he groaned in Russian and guided the tip of his cock to her tongue.

She wrapped her lips around the tip and hallowed her cheeks and she moaned around him as he guided himself further into her mouth. “Such a filthy girl,” he moaned. “Such a slut, letting me bend you over my car and fuck your pussy and now on your knees sucking my cock in an empty parking lot. What would you do if someone caught us, huh? Let them watch or would you shy away?”

She moaned around him and ran her hands up his thighs to grip his ass. She’d let them watch. Nothing would stop her from making him feel good.

He gripped her hair, “yeah, you’re such a little slut you’d let them watch. Let them watch as I pleasure you. No one could fuck you the way I do.” His accent got heavier and thicker as he spoke, every bob of her head pushing him closer. He wasn’t going to last, and she knew that.

Her nails dug into his ass as she moaned around him, tasting a mix of their cum on his cock. He was absolutely right. No one else could ever make her feel this good.

“Kisa, fuck—" He couldn’t even warn her before he came again, and he pulled at her hair as he came down her throat. It wasn’t as much cum given that it was his third orgasm of the night, but it was so intense he had to put his free hand on the edge of the hood to steady himself as his knee threatened to give out.

She completely drained him, but she moaned around him nonetheless and it was only when his moans turned to deep little whimpers that she pulled back to trace her tongue over the head of his cock, sure to get every last drop of his cum.

He said it multiple times, but he honestly didn’t know how he got so lucky to have her. He gently pulled back and then quickly pulled his pants up before he helped her off the ground. He knew the asphalt wasn’t good for her knees and he bent down to brush her knees off, even after she told him she was okay. His eyes were soft as he stood back up before he kissed her slowly. She smiled as she kissed him back before he pulled away to fix her dress.

He’d always look after her. Always.

“Come on, kisa, let’s go home,” he smiled softly, and she hummed as she leaned into him and let him guide her to the passenger door, which he of course opened for her.

After he closed her door, he chased his tie down which had blown over a few parking spots before he came around and got into the driver’s side. Kat immediately tried to lean into him and rest her head on his shoulder and he kissed her temple before he reached behind them to grab the blanket he kept in the back just for her.

“Here baby,” he whispered and wrapped the blanket around her shoulders.

She smiled and leaned up to kiss him. “Thank you,” she whispered. “I know it’s late, but could we maybe take a bath after checking up on the twins when we get home?”

Andrei’s smile softened as he nodded. “Nothing is ever too late for you, my Katarina,” he whispered and kissed her again.

Kat’s smile grew and she ran her hand up his strong thigh. “Then let’s go home.”

#andrei svechnikov #andrei svechnikov imagine #andrei svechnikov smut #andrei svechnikov x oc #when it gets crisp in the fall story #andrei x kat #carolina hurricanes #nhl #hockey rpf #nhl smut #hockey smut #hockey imagine #canes imagine

284 notes · View notes

galaxysgal · 5 months

Text

just some more college dad lip content bc i think ive found my niche. short and sweet and dialogue heavy

philosophy. engineering. calculus. biology. art history. jesus, who was pollock again? and kant? kant's the philosopher...

lip runs a hand through his hair, looking up at his "no distractions" sign, and the picture next to it. it was you, him, and emily. her first christmas. he wasn't sure how everyone had done it, but the whole family had showered the three of you with baby gifts. emily was dressed in an adorable little christmas dress and baby tights, himself in a matching button up, and you wore a deep red sweater with a pretty tint on your lips in the same shade.

his girls. god, he misses you.

he glances at his phone, then to his work, then back to his phone.

"fuck-" he switches out the burnt cig between his lips for a blunt and dials your number.

"lip?"

"h-hi," he lets out a shaky breath at the sound of your voice, "hi baby.'

"what's up, somethin' wrong?"

lip laughs softly, "nothin' sweet girl. i jus' wanted to hear your voice." he breathes in the warm, smooth smoke, the exhales. "exams are killin' me."

"i know. when do you finish up?"

"last exam's thursday morning, then i've got work study but uh- i'll be home for dinner." his chest feels tight as he thinks about coming home to you and emily. just another hot chicago summer, all sweaty and humid. but any time with his girls is priceless.

"you'll be home soon."

"yeah, real soon.” he sighs, checking the clock on his desk. it’s late, emmie’s gone to bed, and he needs to get back to studying.

“go, it’s okay,” your voice is soft through the reciever.

“‘m sorry baby,” lip groans. “i wanna talk more, how was your day?”

“it’s okay, i’m serious. go study and get a good nights sleep, college boy. and call me in the morning, okay?”

he’s quiet for a moment, smoking and thinking as his mind starts to go just a little bit hazy. just a little more studying, thirty minutes tops. then he could sleep.

and then he could hear your voice again.

“yeah, okay,” he resigns. “i love you, i’ll see you soon.”

“love you, lip. so much. go make me an’ emmie proud.”

#lip gallagher x reader #lip gallagher x you #college!lip gallagher #college!!lip gallagher x reader #dad!lip gallagher #dad!lip gallagher x reader #mags writes #this. this is my niche.#college dad lip

216 notes · View notes

zeltqz · 2 years

Text

HANG UP, PUSSSSSSSSY

ran x fem!reader. ft kakuchou, rindou haitani, sanzu haruchiyo

summary: you and ran mess about while he’s on a call

18+ MINORS DNI

tags: pussy-eating, slight name calling from sanzu (he calls you a bitch), but it’s ok cuz ran and kakucho defend you <3, creampie, couch sex, unprotected sex, exhibitionism, slight overstimulation, sanzu is desperate haha

notes: i missed writing ran so. i wrote this in like less than an hour, so it FUCKIGN sucks but I hope u enjoy it anyway

word count: 2.1K

“Ran.”

“Bro, can you fuckin’ jump?! I swear to God, you—”

“Ran.”

You clench your jaw, tongue scraping against your bottom teeth as you watch Ran practically ignore you on the couch. That goddamn headset his brother bought him for his birthday a couple months ago.

Ever since then, game night for ‘ da boyz ’ been active every week on Friday. And I mean, every Friday. They don’t miss it, on that stupid game call for almost the whole day.

The only way his attention is back on you, is when your hands slide up your t-shirt, tugging the flimsy fabric up and over your head. “Babe, could you help me take this off?”

Ran lazily lolls his head to the side, choking on nothing but air when he sees you, struggling to remove your top. The way your bra pushes your boobs out, that is shiny and wet from sweat.

“Bae— what the fuck?”

He chuckles, licking his lips and puts his controller down for a moment to help you tug your shirt over your head. The moment you’re free from the constraints of your shirt, you lean forward, pressing a hot, wet, messy kiss on his lips. Ran slides his fingers beneath your thighs, lifting you up from the couch, sitting nice and pretty on his lap.

“Ran— are you done yet?” You complain, biting his bottom lip.

He pulls away, giving your cheek a small peck. “Nah. Just a few more hours baby.”

“But—” You bite back the whine building in your throat as you run your nails along his chest. Putting on your best pout and puppy eyes, you grind down on his cock, slowly getting visible throughout his sweats. Leaning forward, you whisper into his ear, away from the headset so his friends can’t hear. “I want you. Please.”

You press your lips against the shell of his ear, biting down on the skin seductively whilst sliding your fingers under his shirt, tracing his abs.

“Fuck— you’re killin’ me. Y’know that?” He watches your fingers move around under his shirt.

“I know.”

Ran swallows thickly, fingers trembling slightly atop the buttons of his controller when you reach his sweatpants strings. “Get off the game.” You say a bit louder, to make sure his friends are aware of your presence.

“Ran, you fuckin’ simp. Stay on the fuckin’ game.”

The voice spoken was soft, yet had a biting tone to it when he cussed. Haruchiyo. Ran smiles when you turn around on his lap, back to his chest. Ran wraps his arms around your midriff, resting the controller between your legs.

“Relax, she’s just watchin’.” Ran turns his head, resting his lips against your ear, dropping his voice to a whisper. “Ain’t that right?”

You grumble and frown, moving your head away from Ran’s soft lips and crossing your arms. “Yeah. Whatever.”

The next five minutes are spent with Ran laughing about how Haruchiyo could barely even make a shot. Rindou calls him a fucking loser and the rest of them spit a whole bunch of insults at each other. Everytime Ran calls Sanzu a dumb bitch, it does something to you, rubbing your thighs together.

It’s not long till Ran notices, temporarily taking a break from the game. The boys don’t notice yet, too busy laughing to realise Ran’s sudden immobileness in game. “What’s got you so hot, hm?” The sudden voice in your ear has you shivering and shifting on his lap.

“Nothing.”

“Yeah? Don’t lie to me.”

Your silence screams volumes. “I’m not lying.”

“Was it something I said?” His fingers slide between your thighs, slipping between your shorts and coming into straight contact with your cunt. “No panties?”

“It was hot.” You swallow, holding your breath when he slips his finger in easily. He made sure to insert his middle finger, the longest one inside without warning, relishing the way you bite your lip to conceal your moan.

“I can see that.” His tongue licks a stripe on your neck. The taste is slightly salty from your sweat. Dropping the controller, he unbuttons your bra, watching the way it slips and falls off your chest. “D’ya like it when I call you names?”

“W-what names?”

“You still wanna play games n’ act dumb?” His finger slips out quickly, efficiently and he doesn’t hesitate to flip you over on his lap. Now facing him, you brace your hands on his shoulders. He slides his headset off his head and onto his neck, letting it hang there. His tongue slips into your mouth and you tilt your head to fit him better, fingers creeping up his neck to cup his cheeks.

Your back arches into his touch as his hands trace a long line down your spine, cupping your ass and squeezing it slightly. “Can I–?”

“Go `head, baby.” He watches as your hands disappear into his pants, pulling his cock out, and watches you slip inside him easily.

“Fuc—” His hand covers your mouth, muting your loud moan as he bottoms out inside you.

“Shhh, don’t want them to hear you, do you?”

Your eyes drop down to his headset, resting on his neck. The voices are still there, mindlessly talking about whatever the heck going on on the screen. His grip on your ass tightens, digging his short nail cresents into your skin. “Answer me.”

“No, I don’t want them to hear.”

He presses another kiss to your cheek. “Then stay silent, and fuck yourself dumb on me like a whore.”

The headset is back on his ears in no time, already engaging back in sweet conversation with his friends. You slowly lift yourself up and down, lip quivering everytime his thick cock stretches your hole out even more. It feels so fucking good, but it’s nearly impossible for you to reach orgasm without moaning.

Staying quiet was never your forte during sex, Ran was skilled enough to make you scream until your voice box bled, until the screws on the bed had to get tightened to become more secure to handle his powerful thrusts, until your voice was as hoarse and dry as when you deepthroated his length.

Your hand covers your mouth as you bounce on his cock, eyes threatening to roll to the back of your head. Ran is quick to slap it away from you, giving you a look, one that’s all too familiar for you. Telling you to stop fucking around basically.

Of course Ran was never going to make this easy for you. Your first plan failed, so you moved onto Plan B, to try fuck yourself without having his friends hear. Your plan was cut short when Ran purposefully bucked his hips up, a loud yelp escaping your lips as you held onto the back of the couch for support.

“The fuck was that?” Rindou grumbles into the mic.

“Sounded very feminine-like.” Haruchiyo added his two cents, “Is your bitch okay, Ran?”

Ran rolls his eyes. “My ‘bitch’ has a name Scar-Face.”

“I’ll carve scars into you and your bitches face if you don’t shut the fuck u–”

“Shut up Sanzu.” Kakuchou and Rindou bite simultaneously, coming to you and your boyfriends defence. “Show some respect.”

Ran leans forward, ignoring his friends bickering to whisper into your ear. “If you don’t start movin’ —”

You slowly sit up before he can even finish his sentence, dropping yourself back down. Reaching over, you grab your shirt next to the cushion by Ran’s thigh, stuffing some of it in your mouth to suppress your moans. The longer you continue bouncing, Ran’s hips start to buck up into you, digging himself deeper inside your walls.

“Shit, just li— like that.” Ran throws his head back, dropping his controller to grip your hips, controlling your movement the way he wants. Pulling you forward and back on his cock, then up and down, then back to forwards and back. He drops one hand to pull the t-shirt out of your mouth, pulling you downwards for a kiss. Biting and sucking on your lower lip, you slip your tongue inside his mouth, clenching everytime he sucks your tongue, tangling it with his own.

“That’s it—” Ran moans, mouth presssed alongside yours as you continue bouncing on his cock, milking him for all he’s worth. The two of you are so into it, you don’t realise a comment coming from the call : “Jesus, don’t break the fuckin’ couch.”

You attempt to wriggle your fingers between your bodies, landing on your clit; rubbing hard and desperate circles along the nub, trying to reach your peak. “S’ fuckin’ tight around me— keep playing’ with yourself baby.”

“Ran.” You would feel embarrassed moaning like some whore if you had remembered you had company over the phone, but your mind was too scrambled to even think about that. Heat simmering inside your belly the longer you bounce on your boyfriend's cock.

“You close?”

“`M g— gonna cum Ran— fuck—”

“C’mon, let it out baby. Squeeze my cock— jus’ like that.” His mouth goes slack as your back arches, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as you moan into the space of his neck. Ran lifts you high enough, just that the tip was left, before fucking back into you, emptying his balls deep inside your walls.

“Good girl, holy shit— holy fuckin shit.” He waits for you to calm down from your orgasm. “You can give me another, right?”

“No, I can’t,” You pull your face out from his neck, “really Ran, I— I can’t.” You stop his hands from trailing down your clit, pressing against the bundle of nerves. Ran clicks his tongue, tossing his headphones off his head, onto the end of the couch as he sets you down to lay down.

You let himself settle between your legs, spreading you out bare in front of him. His eyes travel from your soaking cunt, to your soft thighs. His fingers dig into the flesh, tongue darting out to lick up the length of your pussy. He lets out a pleased hum when your hips lift up and off the couch, leaning into his touch.

“God—” You wiggle your fingers between the cushions, pulling out his phone to record how sexy he looks between your legs, kissing and lapping up your slick from your folds. “B-baby, look up.” You strain out, focusing the camera on his face, capturing the moment you see his pupils expand from the initial reaction of finding out he’s being recorded. He winks up at the camera before deciding to show off a little.

He hums and tickles his tongue along the edge of your hole. Just as soon as he’s about to make you a mess, his screen lights up with a phone call. The dim screen revealing Sanzu is calling…

“Babe.”

Ran ignores you, closing his eyes, losing himself in between your legs. You sigh in relief when the call ends. Only for Sanzu to start calling again. You keep tugging on his hair to grab his attention, but he seems to have no intention whatsoever of stopping. One last hard tug, smiling at the way he finally looks up at you, eyebrows creased as he glares at you.

“What?”

You turn the phone around, reminding him of the situation before he grumbles, tugging you closer by the grip on your thighs before picking up the phone. “The fuck do you want? I’m busy?”

“I WAS RIGHTTTTTTTT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” Sanzu’s loud voice startles the two of you. Ran doesn’t have the time or energy to waste conversing with him, so he drops the phone onto your stomach and continues his job.

“Ran!”

“Hey princess.” Haruchiyo’s voice is soft in your ear, despite all the other times he’s called you a bitch.

“Hi.”

Ran looks up at you. “Say his name.”

“Hi Haruch—” Your voice trails off into a moan when Ran purposefully sinks his tongue deep inside your cunt, licking around the inside in a way that makes you want to snap your legs shut. Only thing preventing it are the iron grip Ran has on your thighs, forcing them open for him.

“Fuck, say my name again.” You can hear wet sounds and heavy panting coming from the phone as Sanzu jerks himself off to your voice.

“You’re fucking disgusting.” Rindou comments, voice visible through Sanzu’s computer that’s playing on speaker.

“Ey, Ran. You should fuck her again, lemme hear her.”

Ran presses a single kiss to your thigh before sitting up to grab the phone from you, suddenly irritated by Sanzu’s eagerness. “Shut up, this ain’t a free show.”

“Then hang up pussy.”

Ran doesn’t even hesitate pressing that button, relishing the loud ‘WAIT WAIT I WAS JUST JOKING!’ coming from his headset, before the call disconnects.

#—tr </3 #ran x reader #haitani ran x reader #ran haitani x reader #tokrev #tokrev x reader #tokyorev x reader #rindou x reader #sanzu x reader #sanzu haruchiyo x reader #zeltqz #kakucho x reader

1K notes · View notes

sil-te-plait-tue-moi · 3 months

Text

You're killin' me!

Quick summary: Phantom and Maverick have had their fair share of head-butting – competition, ego and feelings don't mix well, apparently. Finally, however, they seem to reach a peace after a day on the beach.

Word count: 3K (getting into writing these shorter fits woo!)

Warnings: Kind of angsty but also you make out so like is it really that bad; allusions to smut; lots of swear words; yeah, not much for this, it's pretty PG.

A/N: YAYYY, I'm back, sort of but also not really but also ENJOY THIS FIC. Yes, technically it is an extract from an unfinished chapter of the mav x reader Wattpad story I'm halfway through writing (yes, I have a wattpad, it's called nonoitsnina), and maybe (BIIIIG emphasis on MAYBE) I will do a second part where y'all actually fuck and stuff but for now just take this. If anyone's still slinking around the Top Gun stuff, that is. Also, Bee is your RIO here. Just to preface. And Phantom (YOUR CALL-SIGN) shortens to Tommy or Tom from time to time but like if you read the Wattpad book (YES I KNOW I SOUND LIKE A SCARY 14 YEAR OLD) it makes more sense. OKAY ENJOY COMMENTS ARE APPRECIATED HAVE A LOVELY JUBBLY DAY

***

Stupid smiles plastered bright across their faces, Bee and Goose are already dashing down the road, speed-walking like a couple of suburban mothers, one swathed in a beach towel and picnic blanket, the other lopsided with a half-empty cooler grasped in one hand.

I watch them go, brow furrowed, over my shoulder, slightly disconcerted.

“I guess they—” Mav pauses, then huffs, equally as confused, “—really wanted those ice-creams.”

Sure. That’s why they keep glancing back at us and giggling like idiots: ice-creams.

Maverick and I are strolling along the boardwalk back home – despite washing my feet at the tap, there’s still sand between my toes that tickles my skin with every step, but I could care less. He’d asked if I wanted us to take the bus—but I’d said no. Call me a loon (Bee certainly would), but, even after a full day of work—or play—nothing beats sitting outside in the quiet. Except sleep, I guess. But, when I can keep my eyes open, looking out a good view—and, boy, is this watercolour sunset some view—is perfect. After growing up in a city full of dust and cracks, I’ve embraced it: I’m gonna be one of those old ladies in a rocking chair on her porch, day and night, night and day.

Having just finished my own crêpe, I eat Maverick’s. When I ask him if he’s bothered by it, he tells me he’d bought them both for me in the first place.

Sweet. Y’know, I really thought I was a good judge of character. I had to be, to be fair, growing up, pursuing this career – you must always assume the worst until proven otherwise. That’s the safe way, and it’s served me well. Until it had me screaming and yelling at everyone. That’s not—right. It makes me absolutely nauseous.

So, all of these estimated traits, good and bad, have either been tossed or been filtered out.

It boils down to Maverick and his easy grin. He walks along the edge of the sidewalk, just looking at me with that goddamn easy grin. I’ve half a mind to slap him, just to give me a break from his attention. It makes me horribly self-conscious, forces a little thrill on me, like when you’re at the apex of a rollercoaster, just about to tip over. It feels like that, but it also feels like light streaming through a half-blinded window, so the warmth just collects there on the sill so that, when you touch it, you wish you could roll under it like a blanket. Of course, that warmth accumulates. I’m sweating. Like—a—pig.

Jesus, I want to scream into my hands with how good he looks. His dark hair is still slightly damp with seawater, stiff in some places and criminally soft in others. Every now and then, he’ll pull at the white button-up that sticks just a little to his chest, to the contours of his stomach, and fan the skin there. Jesus Christ. My hands are basically twitching to touch him there, to feel the heat of him beneath my palm, solid and beating gently with his heartbeat. I clasp my fingers very tightly around my fork, my crêpe slip, concentrating it all into one point.

I can’t tell if feeling like this is the best or the worst. Jesus, imagine if the other guys knew. They’d never shut up about it. Christ, they’d never take me seriously again. I don’t want to be the “girlfriend” – I want to be a formidable pilot. So many people just don’t think those two things can ever coexist.

Not that I want to be a girlfriend. I couldn’t say that word out loud without feeling wrong. I’m a lot of things, but I don’t know if I could be that.

A bike passes with an urgent ring of its bell, and Maverick twists his body in towards mine, hand hovering over my back, to push me out of the way from it.

I go blank, scrambling to remember where we were in the conversation, mouth dry.

“So, you’re telling me,” I begin, grinning, “going into Return of the Jedi, you hoped that Luke and Leia would end up together?”

Mav sighs and rolls his eyes, tearing off a little of what remains of the crêpe. ‘Well, at the time, I didn’t know they we’re fuckin’ siblings—”

“Maverick, that is incest.”

“Come on!” he laughs, and it’s the best sound in the world. “Goose thought so, too! Luke’s the main guy, so, like, it’s not not logical to think he’d get the main girl, right—?”

“But it’s Han Solo!” I exclaim, throwing my head back with a snort. He smiles down at me, eyes warm, in a way that I’m probably misinterpreting and will replay over and over in my head when I’m trying to sleep in bed tonight. “I thought you’d be a Han Solo kind of guy.”

“What, I remind you of him?” He tosses his head back and smoulders. I fake a gag.

“Well, he’s just—he’s just—” I trail off into laughter. “He’s really—I can’t explain it! If you ask any girl, she’ll know what I mean. Han Solo is so—” I giggle again, remembering how stunned and attracted to him I was when I first watched A New Hope in the theatre. “He’s just a lot of things.”

“Oh, yeah?—like what?”

Gosh, I can feel myself burning up – does he have to lower his voice like that? Does he have to try and catch my eye? God, it’s almost easier to hate him, to be honest – at least then I wouldn’t be acting like such a puddle.

“Like, charming and daring and, um—and clever, and—I don’t know. It’s just the way he speaks or something.”

He hums, hands in his pockets, his dad’s jacket draped over his forearm – I don’t think I’ve seen him go anywhere without that leather jacket. “And you like those things?” he pushes.

I bark out a laugh. “C’mon, Maverick, everyone like those things.” True enough – I could be blind and still fall in love with Han Solo and his smooth-talking. “And why Luke? Even if they weren’t siblings, why him? He had zero chemistry with—”

“Because he’s the chosen one!”

“—yeah, well, he—”

“He’s cool! Luke is objectively cool. He’s a pilot, he’s a Jedi, he’s a leader, he’s—”

“What-ever!” I exclaim, scrunching up my nose at him, and we giggle into quiet. “I’m not saying I didn’t like him as a character – I think he’s an amazing character. I just wouldn’t fuck ‘im.” I cackle at the absurdity of it all.

We continue walking.

Maybe all of this will fade in a couple hours. Maybe it’s the magic of Top Gun, this beach, this dusk that settles in fast around us, the lights that illuminate the darkening boardwalk. It’ll all be over in a couple more weeks, anyway. Bee ‘n’ I’ll go back to the carrier and be on with things, and Maverick will do whatever it is that he does. I know Goose says we should make plans to meet after school’s out, but who really has the time to spare? So, thank God Mav didn’t ride in on his motorcycle, ‘cause, if he’d insisted I hop on and wrap my arms around him and rest my head on his shoulder and la-la-la, I’d be in great danger of sleeping with him.

“D’you wanna head straight back?”

I look up at him. “Hmm?”

Jesus, he needs to tone down his looks or something – it’s disarming, a hazard, really. Those green eyes are givin’ me some mean butterflies, alright. Nowadays, I’ll see him fresh out of the sky, hair spiky and dishevelled with sweat – he doesn’t wear helmet hair as well as others, that’s for certain – and I’ll have to bury my face in my locker. I’ll see him absentmindedly chewing on his dog-tags, and it’ll have me air-headed for the rest of a lecture. I can’t classify it as a distraction, but it’s—certainly not intended. My head isn’t screwed on so tight, and I can’t keep tipping up in the cockpit – I know my ambition to win and these thoughts about Maverick have no correlation, but, good God, maybe if I could just focus more in classes—

“There’s—” he starts, then swallows. “We could go to the pier. Not really a view anymore, but we could see some lights. Boats, maybe.”

“Yeah,” I reply, excitement jolting through my body.

“Yeah?” I nod. He smiles. “Okay.”

When he asks me if I’m cold, he readjusts his jacket on his arm, like he’s already made his mind up to lend it to me. Of course, I shake my head – I’d probably end up stinking up the damn thing with how much I seem to be sweatin’.

We take our time to the end of the pier. When we reach the railing, we step up onto the bar and lean out to look down at the softly lapping water.

“You—erm—”

I turn to look at him, and the stutter of his words stops abruptly, his eyes wide. He looks at me dumbly, like I’m one of the seven fuckin’ wonders. Now, I’ve seen Maverick drunk, stupid, and downright embarrassing himself—just think of the time she lost that fuckin’ lovin’ feeling—but, even when he doesn’t know something, he always keeps face. He always has something to say. Now?—now, here, he looks hopeless.

“You—”

“I what, Mitchell?” I grin, shoving my hair behind my ear in light of the strong breeze that suddenly billows in from across the sea. “Watching the ships, right?” There they are: little dots on the horizon.

He flushes, snapping his attention away. “Right.”

I know what’s coming – I pick up on all of it: the fidgeting of his hands, the downcast dart of his eyes, the way he bites down on the inside of his cheek. Though it kinda perks me up to begin with, I just end up wilting again at the reminder of a certain instructor who I am evidently not.

Still, it’s nice to hear him say: “It’s just—” I tilt my head towards him, “—I think you’ve got great eyes. Great everything really. I dunno. I think—you’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.”

I snort. “That 4% really got to you, hey, Mav?”

He doesn’t laugh, just pauses, takes a second to think about what he’s going to say. “I—don’t know—how to say it.”

My heart drops—in the bad way. “What?"

“That I think about you—a lot.”

Oh, Christ. I let out a deep sigh, and, immediately, his face drops like a stone. “Oh, don’t do that, Maverick.”

“Do what?” he protests through a weak smile.

I recoil just a little bit: he’s a flirt, yes, but I didn’t take him for a dirtbag. “Do what?” my ass. He knows what. Blonde-hair-and-bright-eyes, who’s what. Think of how smart she is, how accomplished she is, how beautiful she is, how level and respected she is – all of these things and a man can still write Charlie of as not that big a deal? That’s fuckin’ low.

“You’re being mean,” I tell him firmly, trying to force down the disgust that pushes under my tongue and the embarrassment that burns over my cheeks.

Maybe Carole and Goose really weren’t exaggerating. Maybe he has got eight women all lined up for him, just waiting for him to call.

His hand makes to touch my shoulder but doesn’t end up making contact – it just hovers, unsure. Either way, I wasn’t going to let it happen. Either way, I find myself scurrying back, away.

Mav has the audacity to look confused. “I’m sorry. I’m not trying to—”

“So, what?” I snap, hopping down from the railing and scowling unabashedly at him once more. “I’m one of those girls you string along?”

He laughs – only, it’s not cute anymore; it’s fucking annoying. “No—!”

The wind blows strongly, warm, still, but with the promise of a storm. I have to raise my voice in order to get myself across, I tell myself: “What?—you wanna challenge yourself, or something? Me and Charlie—?”

This?—this seems to piss him off. Mav’s expression crumples into indigence as he protests strongly again, “No—!"

“But—”

“Phantom,” he presses desperately, eyes pleading for me to listen – I’ve seen that expression on him before; every time I’ve ignored it, I’ve ended up regretting it, yelling myself silly over a misunderstanding. So, I pause. I listen. The urgent haze fades away within the span of three deep breaths.

“I wanted Charlie’s advice on how to speak to you. I was nervous—am nervous—and I don’t want to say the wrong thing. She’s very—to-the-point. And Goose and Bee fluff like their lives depend on it.”

Nice one. Nice going, Tommy: do what you do best and throw a fuckin’ rage, why don’t you?

“I thought you didn’t like me—” I say to him dumbly, “—after what I said to you.”

We don’t talk about that argument in the locker rom. We don’t talk about the one after volleyball either, or the one in the air. It’s no excuse – that Viper is breathing down my neck, that I know Skipper expects highly of me – to act like a dick to all the competitors that block my way to that damn trophy. I need to climb this hill.

And here Maverick is, thinking about me—a lot.

“Your opinion matters to me more than you’d think,” he admits with a snarky, little snort. “You’re—” he trails off; the gale dies down. “You’re just—I don’t know how to put it. I’m—not great at the serious-talking stuff.”

“Embarrassed?” I tease. God, I know I am.

He grins. “A little bit.”

We make our way back to the dorms, talking. He tells me he’s liked me ever since this one lecture at the beginning of Top Gun—after the induction, after the bar, after the first exercise—when he’d said something dumb in response to Charlie’s criticism. According to him: “You turned back and looked at me and—and you just smiled. God, I dunno – I just couldn’t look away from you. Even—even after you, y’know, y’turned back around, I—I was just staring at the back of your head, hoping you’d do it again. That you’d look at me again, smile at me again.”

I don’t even remember that day.

He walks me to the door of my dorm, where the windows are all dark and the blinds all flat shut.

No way to make it up to him. No time, either. Should’ve kissed him right then and there at the bar that first night when he came over to the jukebox. Bee saw it in my face – I know that now. I should’ve let him win that bet with himself.

I might be about to do him that favour now, I guess. All flushed, all pretty, all nervous—he gets nervous?—Maverick is so close to me that the heat of his body radiates onto mine, far too dangerous for my liking. This is not what I intended. This is so far off my plan of how this program was gonna go.

But his nose is brushing mine, and his hands are so warm and gentle as they press over my arms.

“Can—?”

I nod softly. “Yeah.”

“Yeah?”

The kiss, when it comes, is this soft, tentative sink into a brittle release. The gentle press of his nose into my warm cheek elicits a quiet sigh from the both of us – the break from silence must render me into this here embarrassing mess, melting like the ice-cream we shared earlier in the hot sun, because Mav gets that shit-eating grin on his face like he’s watching me lose to him at volleyball all over again. Whatever – he’s the one that probably had to take a cold shower over how I looked.

I cup my hand over the back of his neck, drawing him closer still to me.

Maverick kisses like he’s paying attention to every single detail of it – his eyes are slanted just slightly open, watching my face, and one of his hands rests kindly over my neck, his fingers pressing just a little into the pulse point which I’m sure is racing like a damn horse by now.

Of course, he’s beautiful at this. Just my fuckin’ luck. Technically, yes, it is prohibited to have sexual relations on work premises. Even a man and a woman behind a locked door is assumed to be inappropriate – I’ve heard that one too many a time by the air boss back on the carrier. I’m far from a goody-two-shoes, but rules are rules for a reason. So, of course, it’s just my luck that I meet an unfairly handsome pilot with pretty eyes and entirely too destabilising a kiss. He trails his nose down along my jaw before burying it there in my neck; I hold him tight to me, fingers curling around the thick muscle of his shoulders.

When we kiss again, it’s different: searing, crushing, slow, breathless. The chorus of crickets and cicadas and other night-things is drowned out by the roaring of blood in my ears and the soft noise that slips past Mav’s lips as he pauses for breath, to pant hotly over my cheek.

“You’re gonna have to help me out here, stud,” I mumble helplessly against him, to which he nods fiercely, reaching out blind for the door-knob and guiding me stumbling into my room.

Bee isn’t here – upon the side table, there’s a little, folded note that reads in chicken-scratch handwriting: Staying with Goose for the night. Have fun!

#pete mitchell x reader #pete maverick mitchell x reader #pete mitchell #top gun #top gun maverick #goose bradshaw #tom cruise x reader #im back on my bullshit #i feel the need for speed #i need him in me

56 notes · View notes

of-mutts-and-men · 6 months

Note

Such a good pup, letting me come inside, holding your hips up even while the rest of you is melted against the mattress. I love breaking the rules for you, love how good you feel around my hard cock, how you whine for it. Bragging over the phone to him about what a good boy you are just to make him that extra little bit mad.

So worth it when he finally comes home and pulls me off you, tying me down so my legs are spread open in front of you. He gags me and tweaks my pierced nipples before turning to feel for himself how wet and hard you get from being bred.

Pushing his fingers inside and gently asking you how many times I took you, while you’re trying to remember. You meet my eyes and I blush, whimpering, trying not to drool in front of you.

“Five or six?” He supplies.

You shake your head, knowing it must have been more, and he smiles while I fail to hide my face or close my thighs. You can see the outline of his cock through his pants and realize how big he is when he’s hard, how much you’d stretch around him. How easy it would be for him to hold you by the hips and fuck you the way he likes, empty himself inside the way you like and plug you after to keep it in.

I watch, squirming from the vibe he puts on me before, empty and twitching while I come over and over until I’m pliant enough to be held up between you, him sunk in my ass and holding me by my wide black collar, newly locked. You’re sheathed in my tight front, playing with my nipples and kissing messily into my mouth, still propped open with a ring gag while I moan, properly fucked and needing more, too sensitive to come again on your belly but helpless to stop it. Every time I do I clench hard and make you both fuck harder until I’m close to coming again.

My eyes roll back when you come first, when he says you can. You pull out, and he holds my legs up so you can see how good you bred me, how my ass stretches so nicely around his cock.

Hhhhh you’re killin me anon 😩. Making me dizzy.

#hornyramble #anon chit chat #kissing u rn #im still edging 3 days now just 4 u ;3

77 notes · View notes

darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 1 year

Text

Unexpected 26

Sequel to Unsolicited

Warnings: non/dubcon, pregnancy, car sex, Lloyd being the worst, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

Lloyd rarely surprises you anymore but that night, you admit, you are. He leaves you be. You just can't decide if it's because he actually listened or for some other Lloyd reason.

You hear Dottie and Harlan come home and try not to hear what comes after. You sleep as well as you can through the persistent ache in your hip bones. You hug the pillow between your legs, finding your comfort with a blanket under your belly. Adjusting to your body is the hardest part, you were never very comfortable in it to begin with.

You get up before nine. You never really slept in. Well, before you were working night shifts and going to sleep at this time. Those years really did a number on you.

You dress and hobble downstairs, yawning as the scent of cinnamon leads you into the kitchen. Dottie is there at the stove, chiming at your entry with "good morning" to rival any songbird.

"Hi," you go to the fridge, mourning your ritual of a hot coffee and opting instead for some mango orange juice. "How was your night?"

"Ah, ya know, Harlan's all tired out," she giggles, "but I should ask ya, dear, about yours."

"Mm, it was a night," you shrug as you pour yourself a glass, "what are you making? It smells so good."

"My famous cinnamon donuts," she announces proudly, "little Marion was the biggest fan, back when he wasn't so stingy on sugar."

"Ah," you take a sip of the tangy juice.

"I can't think the night was mighty successful," she mulls, "not with him leavin' so fast this mornin'."

You put the carton back and grab your glass. You lean against the count and take a large gulp.

"He left," you don't quite make it a question.

"Didn't he say goodbye?"

You keep your face vacant, "probably for the best."

"Work, he said," she offers, "off to make some money for the little one."

"Mm," you chew your lip and think. You peek over at her, "I… hope you don't think-- I worked, you know. More than twenty years and I busted my ass. I didn't… want to quit and not do anything."

"Ah don't you worry, sweetheart, I ain't judgin'. He just wants to take care of ya and the kiddo. I don't think nothin' bout it." She shakes her head and chuckles, "ask Marion, he'll tell ya I never worked a day in my life, not outside chasin' after him but let me tell ya a secret," she turns the dough in the oil, "I would get my money at night. Where we live, you make a killin' with that phone sex stuff. All them horny old men."

"Dot," you gasp.

"Oh, Harlan knew, he thought it was so funny, ya know? I'd tell him when one of the fellas he worked with would call," she cackles, "got a good laugh."

"Money is money," you say.

"Damn right, talkin' up them old pervs got my boy into Harvard," she smirks, "that's the thing about men. That one part of em is always the easiest to talk to."

"Uh huh," you step away and rest your hand on your stomach, "god, I can't stop peeing." You put your cup down hastily as your bladder squeezes.

"Ah, I don't miss that," she calls after you, "baby boy used to line dance on my bladder."

You close yourself into the bathroom and struggle to get your leggings down. You sit and sigh, letting the pressure drain and the news sink in. Maybe he took a few words to heart or maybe you're giving him too much credit. Either way, he's gone and you can breathe.

💎

"It's all comin' together," Dottie says as Harlan pushes the crip against the wall, wiping sweat from his forehead with the back of his head.

"Yes, looks good," you agree, "I like the bunnies. Good choice."

"Oh, I almost forgot," Dottie trills and goes over to the white box on the change table, "Harlan picked this one out. Hun, don't forget to hang it."

She opens the flaps and Harlan nears her. She lifts out the large orb, a fascimile moon, and turns to him. They're cute together, you won't ever have that.

He takes it and hangs it from the hook over the crib. He smiles up at it, "I always liked to watch the moon, ya know?"

"Lights up and everything," Dottie explains, "all different colours for the baby."

You stare at it. This baby if anything will be spoiled. You'll have to be the bad guy. The one who moderates. The one who says no when everyone else says yes.

Like everyone else you've ever known, this child will hate you.

You feel your chest caving in at the thought. You can never be what this baby needs. You've never been enough for anyone. A girl, too.

What a curse. To be a girl in this world. With a father like him and a mother like you.

"I… it's beautiful," you're not lying and the crack in your voice startles even you. But it's not the sentimentality that it seems, it's absolute and consuming terror. "I'm sorry, I need to lay down."

"You feel alright?" Harlan asks with concern.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm just… tired."

"Well, you take it easy, darling," he girds.

"You let us know if ya need anything, honeybun," Dottie says.

"Of course, uh," you swallow tightly, "thank you. Both."

"It's nothin'," Dottie insists.

"No, really, thank you for being so… kind."

"Well, honey, you're our daughter as much as Marion's our boy," she smiles, "don't you forget that now."

You leave them and go back to the bedroom. You climb into bed and cocoon yourself in the blankets. You hate it. You hate how hot, how sharp every emotion is.

All this baby stuff makes you wonder and worry. You don't imagine your parents were ever that excited for you. They never beamed over your crip or delighted in choose cute stuffies or the perfect pacifier.

You are unwanted. Unexpected and unloved.

You didn't of that shit. Not for years. So why now?

You can be better than that. You have to be. You can't live with the idea you might pass on all this insecurity.

You sniffle and dab your eyes before they can prick. You blow out between your lips and lay flat. Big mistake.

You grunt as you sit up. As much as you'd love to sleep it into oblivion, you're restless. You hate the fact that Lloyd's unannounced absence has you on edge. He'll be back and not knowing when is worse than having him around.

There's a gentle tapping on the door. You try to shake off your nerves and you clear your throat.

"Yes?"

"Uh, don't mean to bother none, but… we didn't get to that finale… that lil snake eyed boy got me curious," Harlan says from the other side.

You can't help but smile. You never would've guessed his interest in trashy reality TV.

"Come in," you reach for your phone.

He opens the door slowly, inching inside, "you sure, kid?"

"Kid? No one's called me that in ages," you chuckle, "yeah, I'm ready to see it all go up in flames."

He has a tablet in hand and comes around the other side of the bed, "may I?"

"Sit, sit," you pat the mattress.

He's got the episode queued up and you help prop it between you with a pillow. He sits back with arms crossed and you hit play, the recap rolling at once.

You're quiet as the narrator goes through the most dramatic scenes of the season. You glance at Harlan from the corner of your eye. You never had this, never had a dad who wanted to do anything with you. Nothing aside from holding a wrench as he ignored you.

"Why are you so nice?" You ask at last.

He shifts and looks at you, "why don't you think you deserve that?"

You scoff and shake your head, "you don't know me."

"I know you're too good for my son, and I'm gonna let him know that. Again. Maybe this time, he'll hear me," he reaches over, gently taking your hand, "I'm still young enough to kick his ass."

You grin and feel the tension seep from you. You relax and lean against his shoulder, turning to watch the screen. He squeezes your hand as he rests his head against yours.

It’s peace. For now.

#lloyd hansen x reader #dark lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen #dark!lloyd hansen #drabble #dark drabble #dark!drabble #series #unexpected #the gray man

296 notes · View notes

garoujo · 2 years

Text

・✶ ｡ﾟmammon can’t help but drag you away whenever he sees you dressed up at one of diavolo’s parties.

warnings : f. reader, needy mammon, breeding, hes in his demon form, exhibitonism, slight protective best boy.

your pouty lips babble out a strangled whine of his name when you feel mammon’s fingers flex tighter into the flesh of your ass under your dress, one of your thighs is propped up by his wing and wrapped around his waist, allowing him to pin you even harder against the cold wood of the closet door behind you and you’re thankful for the thumping of the loud music outside.

his large hands keep your hips pressed tightly against his own while his fat cock continues to dip in and out of your cunt, the slight burn from the stretch of taking him only adding to the pleasurable fogginess of your mind as he restlessly ruts into you.

your eyelashes finally lift as you blink away the tears that glisten in your eyes, admiring the sight of the silver-haired demon infront of you—mammon is almost hunched over you, the sheer width of his shoulders and back making you feel tiny.

his hair is mused and falling messy over his eyes as his tightly curled horns stick out from his roots, and even though he’s flushed from him cheeks to his exposed chest you can still make out the the white marks that travel down his neck and along the hard muscle of his torso to his abdomen, framed by the two harness like belts that are strapped tightly across his skin.

your breathing hitches when he tears his eyes away from your puffy cunt to meet yours, a handsome smirk immediately decorating his lips as he deliberately slows his pace— pulling you even closer to his chest as he lets out a breathless rasp of a chuckle, brushing the blunt head of his cock against the spot inside of you that he knows will have you creaming around him.

“ya enjoyin’ the view or somethin’? q-quit lookin’ at me like that, just knew how needy ya were—knew ya needed the great mammon to take care of ya.” mammon’s tone is soft and smooth, an almost hard contrast to sinful way his hips are moving against yours, paired with the playful glint in the blue of his eyes.

“m-mammon—“ is all you can muster back, your nails grabbing at the collar of his cropped motorcycle jacket covering his shoulders as your eyes roll back, shoving it down to reveal more of him as you grab at the new exposed skin, the desperation of your actions causing a moan to rumble through mammon’s chest “heh, look at ya—s-so pretty and can’t keep your h-hands off me. must make ya feel so good, right? better t-than anyone else ever could.”

the second eldest groans, leaning over you as he tries to bite back his own moans, feeling you thrash under him with every stroke “yeah, darlin’? ya f-feel so, so good. fuck, nghhh—ya really are killin’ me here, baby. j-just hate the way all the others are lookin’ at ya, d-don’t they know ya belong to the mammon.”

mammon grunts, clenching his fanged teeth when he feels your thigh squeeze around his waist, locking up beneath his large palm. “i’m your favourite t-though, ain’t a? y-ya better mean it.” he doesn’t even give you time to reply, fucking into you impossibly deeper as he continues to hammer away at the sinful spot inside of you, babbling a few hushed praises between pants as he nears his own orgasm.

you whine and grind up against him, greedy for another release. you feel mammon’s fingers trace along your thigh until you feel his thumb flick over your puffy clit, the sensation immediately throwing you closer to the orgasm you crave until you’re kicking your legs at the overwhelming pleasure.

“come on, b-baby. been waitin’ to get my hands on ya all night, draggin’ me away cause y-ya can’t get enough of me, is that it? ya want me to praise ya?“ his words are more breathless this time, almost desperate as his thrusts turn sloppy. his fingers nails digging almost painfully into your skin as you feel the growing wetness spread between your thighs with each snap of his hips.

“y-yes mammon, please—“ is all you can manage before you hear the blonde growl above you “that’s it, y-ya really are somethin’ else.”

mammon lets out a breathy whine as he slams one of his palms onto the door behind you, steadying himself as his orgasm rips through him, groaning as he milks his cock inside of you. the sensation causes you to shake as you come undone beneath him, thighs trembling as you gush around him, his cock continuing to slide in and out of you.

your legs quake when you finally feel him rest you back down with a satisfied sigh, blinking down at you through the sweaty silver locks that have fallen over his dazed eyes as he stretches out his wings slightly with a pink cheeked smirk, adjusting the collar of his jacket before leaning in slightly to place a soft peck on your swollen lips.

“fuck—don’t even wanna go back, w-wanna steal ya and hide in here with ya all night, i’ll never get enough of ya—means i get to keep ya all to myself, b-bet ya want that though!”

#queued this before i slept hehe !!!#݁ . ࿓ : sealed#obey me x reader #mammon x reader #obey me smut #obey me x you #mammon smut #mammon x you #obey me imagines #mammon x y/n #mammon x mc

1K notes · View notes

alwaysahiccupandastrid · 7 months

Text

🪓 Nerdy Prudes Must Die - Some Thoughts 🪓

I decided to rewatch NPMD (second day in a row 🙈) and wanted to write down some random thoughts and reactions because why the fuck not 😌

‼️ SPOILERS FOR NPMD BELOW ‼️

I loved this show from the second it started omg I love things about murder 🤭

“Riiiiichie… Riiiiiichie…” — kind of gave off IT vibes ngl

They really killed off Jon Matteson’s nerd character in the first 35 seconds 💀

“They twisted his nipples off 🤣” - WHY WAS HE SO HAPPY ABOUT IT

THE PROJECTION OF THE TITLE IN THE VICTIM’S BLOOD, STARKID HAD HELLA BUDGET FOR THIS SHOW 🙌🏻

“🎵I’m dead…the blood is arbitrating from my head🎵” needs to become a trending TikTok sound or something oh my fucking gOD

LAUREN YOU QUEEN 🙌🏻👏🏻 also living for that fucking wig

MARIAHHHHHHH 🎵❤️

Definitely felt the “High School is Killin’ Me” “I’m so fucking dead” in my soul even though I’m a full ass adult now

“I was deep in a Twitter fight about a problematic puppy” ROFL OMFG

Joey as Peter Spankoffski 😭👏🏻

ANGELA AS GRACE CHASITY HELL FUCKIN YEAH SHE IS EATING THIS PART UP

We all knew someone at school who snitched to the teachers lbh 💀

“So you don’t wanna be bullied?” “No, I wanna be invisible.” “…then why do you come to public school dressed in suspenders and a fucking bow tie?” - PLEAAAASE 💀🤣

MICRO-PETER 😂💀

Joey taking off his glasses and going “oh god” under his breath, “IT’S NOT ACTUALLY A MICROPENIS”… oh he ATE the role, R*bert who?!?

“My titties are tenderised” - I MEAN SAME BUT-?!?

“I didn’t know you were funny.” “Neither did I.” “I like funny guys.” — I AM SORRY BUT IM ALREADY SHIPPING HARD

Actually obsessed with Richie’s hair and outfit like I can’t explain it other than I’m obsessed

IT’S MAX JÄGERMAN

“Ohh well there’s a difference between intent and impact - I learnt that at an anti bullying assembly last month, FUCK NUGGET” took me off guard tbh like I know I’m tired and easily surprised but still 🤭

GRACE CHASITY PROTESTING THE CO-ED HOMECOMING DANCE I CANNOT-

Jägerman is literally the archetype of the school bully jock who peaked in high school like omg but also he’s into Grace?!?!

“I run laps in the gym and I don’t want to slip on any SPUNK” - FUCKING HELL

“Can I carry your books for you?” “Carry my books? 🤢 I don’t think either of us are ready for that, I mean we’re only 18!”

“My little dirty girl.” — 😳😲😮‍💨

“I am only one man’s girl, Max, and his name is Jesus Christ!” — IM FUCKING HOWLING ANGELA KILLED THE DELIVERY OF THAT LINE I CANT-

“I’m a literal monster!” - oh so Max is self aware then 🤔

“This is politics, Stephanie 🙄 learn to multitask!”

I love that Starkid keep casting Corey as Mariah’s dad?!?

Stephanie is apparently her father’s “October surprise”… so her birthday is in October, like Hannah Foster’s? 🤔

“Stephanie, please, I’d like to have an intelligent conversation with you - in other words, shut up” - DAMN WHAT A BURN

NOOO NOT HER PHONE 😰 (I am also addicted to my phone so I get it lol)

NOT STEPHANIE THROWING HER HAND BETWEEN HER PHONE AND THE HAMMER OMFG (same though)

Mayor Lauter really said “I don’t give a shit if you lie, steal or cheat to get your grades up, just don’t get caught” - spoken like a true politician

“How am I supposed to study without listening to Spotify?!?” probably should not have resonated with me like it did 🤭

Peter trying to make a joke and Richie and Ruth not getting it is so relatable tbh

I’m obsessed with Ruth’s mushroom jumper tbh

“I just want someone to touch me… anyone, PLEASE” — ROFL (same girl)

“What was it like when she touched your arm?… DID YOU CUM?!?” — 💀💀💀💀

“You and Steph, it’s a fantasy - like a boy and his anime love pillows. It’s a beautiful dream, but I’ll never hold the real Rei or Asuka in my arms.” — I AM PISSING MYSELF LAUGHING JESUS FUCKING CHRIST

“I’m such a loser, telemarketers hang up on me” 💀😭

DID RICHIE JUST FUCKING SAY “NANI!” JESUS FUCKING CHRIST I CANT DEAL WITH THIS SHOW 🤣

Richie and Ruth climbing Pete like a tree and demanding to know what Stephanie is saying is so ridiculously funny 😆

“Really, Ruth? A Star Wars analogy? Need I go into why Attack on Titan is superior in every possible way?” — STARKID UNDERSTAND THE NERDS I LOVE IT

“You’re telling me I gotta be funny again?!? I didn’t do it on purpose the first time!”

“Pete, you’ve been given a once in a lifetime opportunity - someone’s willing to tolerate your presence for a whole evening! This may never happen again!” — damn wish that would happen to me 😭🙈

Not Pete getting a boner during “Cool as I think I am” 🙈

Nooooo not Max finding Pete before he could go into the restaurant to meet Stephanie 😭

“I’m sick of your ssshhhhit!” — YES PETEY STAND UP TO HIM

The fact Max said “Rendezvous” as “Randay-Voose” 💀

The way it transitioned from “say your prayers” to the Chasity family going “AMEN” was PERFECTION

Grace’s father referring to his wife as “mother” is…something 💀

“He came up to me in the hallway and he asked if he could carry my books.” “Oh, Mark - I didn’t know that sort of thing happened at Hatchetfield High! Do you think you should call the boy’s father?” — ?!?!?!

“Mom, will you pass the butt stuff? The butter. Butter. Will you pass the butter? (Chuckles nervously) I just want some head and butter. BREAD! Bread! Bread and butt-sex to go with this big shaft of meat I’m gonna choke down. Oh boy…oh criminy!” - THE SCREECH I GAVE WAS UNHOLY

“I’ve just got some butterflies in my tummy; and they’re flying REAL low today” 😭💀🙈

GRACE FANTASISING ABOUT MAX IN THE BATH I CANNOT DEAL WITH THIS

“Brewing up a big ol’ pot of dirty girl soup” - ABSOLUTELY NOT 💀

HES FUCKING SHIRTLESS WHAT THE FUCK-

“Everyone’s got their secrets, and this one’s mine. I love… Jesus! 😃” - this was when I definitely knew she was fantasising because ain’t no fucking way-

WAS THE DIRTY GIRL SONG SUPPOSED TO BE VIEWED AS HOT BECAUSE I AM VERY FLUSTERED AND CONFUSED AND TOTALLY VIBING WITH THE TUNE

🎵 DIRTY DIRTY GIRL WON’T YOU PRAY FOR ME🎵

You see, if Christian parents didn’t repress their teenager’s hormones and sexuality then MAYBE their teenagers wouldn’t resort to murder 🙃

Grace’s dad saying he’s going to get the plunger when she said she was doing a big poop 😭💀

Grace really thinks that impure thoughts only happen after marriage and I almost envy her innocence

“Money isn’t everything… looks are.” - yeah no that about sums people up in this day and age 😑

“We thought you were waifu material, but you’re just a bully” — NOT WAIFU MATERIAL 💀

PETE’S BLACK EYE NOOOO 😭🥺

Grace is kind of a psychopath and I’m loving that for her tbh

“I’m not comfortable with the plan if it involves that kind of language” but she’s comfortable with filming someone getting terrified and pissing their pants 💀

The “the place is not structurally sound” comment was DEFINITELY foreshadowing

“I get pus in my pits!” Jesus ☠️

🎵🤌🏻we’re gonna bully the bully🤌🏻🎵

“We’re gonna cut off his nips!” - what is with the obsession with n!pples in this show 😳

I’M SORRY BUT THIS IS ALL I COULD THINK ABOUT WHEN THEY TALKED ABOUT KEEPING THE BEANS COOL

“You’re like super nice to me 😀” “…not really. I’m just doing the bare minimum here.” “You’re the best friend I’ve ever had.” “Oh, that’s sad!” — 😂😅🤣

“Okay, Richie, be honest… Am I reading as ghost or Lin Manuel Miranda” — OH FUCKING GOD IM CACKLING

“You kinda look like that homeless guy from downtown” 💀 FOURTH WALL BREAK?!?

Max must be VERY drunk because ain’t no way he thought Pete was a ghost or Ruth was actually a skeleton 💀

“Grace, we gotta abort the plan, it’s not working!” “It’s working for me, he’s so violent! 😍”

Not Max actually being touched by them putting this whole thing together for him 💀 very much giving off himbo vibes and I love him for that

MAX FELL THREE STOREYS

Oh my GOD THE FUCKING MAKE UP ON MAX FOR HIS DEATH SCENE HOLY SHIT

“NERDY! PRUDES! MUST! DIE!” — oh hey it’s the name of the show! 😃 And also it was written on the wall in… oh 😳

“I did get a lot of incriminating footage of us luring him here with malicious intent!” - uh oh

“My god! We’re going to jail! And with my luck, no one will even bother making me their bitch!” — PLEASE 💀

“It wasn’t murder, and it wasn’t an accident… it was an act of God! 😇” - Grace is UNHINGED

“No more tickling in our mommy spots!” - OUR WHAT SPOTS?!?

“🎵🤌🏻 We’re gonna bury the body! 🤌🏻🎵”

“Oh no she’s snapping again”

“I just cut off his nips 😌” - again with the nips?!?

DAN AND DONNA 😃😃😃

“Two weeks of heartache” - cut to all of his classmates happy without his influence 💀

STEPH PASSED THE TEST! 😃

“Ya know, this is really your C+.” “Oh Steph… you can keep it. It’d really bring down my GPA.”

Steph asking Pete out to the football game 🥹😁 we love to see it!

GO GO NIGHTHAWKS! 😃🦅 (I know it’s an eagle emoji there’s no hawk emoji 🙈)

“N, I-G, H-T… *squawk squawk* Ks!” 👏🏻🙌🏻

Richie is the team mascot and they wanted/needed him in the huddle 🥹

They apologised for bullying him 😭👏🏻

“And we’d like to apologise in advance for if Max ever comes back, ‘cause we’ll probably go right back to doing it”

“Fuck Clivesdale! Fuck ‘em straight to hell! Assholes!” — AGREED! 👏🏻

I’m 90% sure Jon actually struggled with taking that mascot top off but it worked well with the scene so 😌

“I love being alive! 😃” — oh he’s so about to fucking die, isn’t he?

IT’S MAX CALLING FOR RICHIE HES BACK FROM THE DEAD

MAX’S COSTUME/MAKE UP IS AMAZING OH MY GOD 😌💅🏻

“Should’ve joined the smoke club you nerdy prude” — ANOTHER SMOKE CLUB REFERENCE

Every song on this soundtrack fucking slaps I LOVE IT

There’s not very many men that can pull off being absolutely absolutely fucking terrifying while dancing and singing across the stage but Will Branner managed it so kudos to him

The bit where Richie was repeating what Max said (“who will pray for me? When I’m gone?”) was INSANELY GOOD

“What did they find? You don’t say…you don’t say!” “What’d they find, dad?” “They didn’t say” - 💀

“Oh heck… I’m so hecking fudged”

“*relieved* Oh well we don’t know anything about that one!” “Or ANY one!”

“Maybe it’s a coincidence. People tell me to die every day!” — Okay why is Ruth kind of me 😭

THE FUCKING CAMEOS IN “HATCHET TOWN” ASDFGHJKL?!?! ZIGGY?! MAN IN A HURRY?!? GERALD MONROE?!?

“Ohhh I remember before the lockdown” - yeah me too 😅

THE BARBECUE MONOLOGUES GOT ME HOLLERING 💀

Ruth walking onto the stage and into the spotlight 🥺 literally she was me this whole scene omg I relate so hard to most of what she said ASDFGHJKL

Lauren ATE that song up by the way

MAX KILLED HER BY WEDGIE-ING HER IN TWO AND THEN PUT THE PANTS OVER HER HEAD WHAT THE FUCK MAX 😭

Him telling her to “project” so those in the back row could hear her triggered me so bad as an actor omg 😳

Grace really accusing the entirety of Clivesdale 💀

As soon as the WWJD bracelet was brought up I KNEW what was going on 😭

“Who’s plan was it, Grace?” “It was God’s plan! And now he’s leaving me out to dry! Do something, you son of a bitch!” 💀😅🤣

Grace has lost her fucking SHIT and I fully support that for her

“Show Me Your Hands” musical refrain?!

BEANIES?!? PAUL AND EMMA?!? 😭😭😭 ITS FUCKING PAUL AND EMMA I CANNOT-

“Cup of roasted coffee” refrain too?!?

PAUL GAVE EMMA HIS NUMBER 😭❤️

PAUL + EMMA IN EVERY SINGLE TIMELINE, EVERY SINGLE UNIVERSE-

“EXCUSE ME I HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR WHAT FEELS LIKE FIVE FUCKING YEARS AND I STILL HAVE NOT RECIEVED MY GODDAMN HOT CHOCOLATE” 💀💀💀💀💀💀💀😂😂😂😂😂 I FUCKKING CANT IM DONE

🎵”Don’t need a lover boy need a lover man / sure I’m a sapiosexual and you’re intellectual but I’ll cut my lover losses when I can” 🎵 — this song goes so hard omg

Grace pushing between them and shouting “leave room for Jesus!” 💀

“Do we need to get ahold of Ruth?” “Good luck getting ahold of her. Does your phone pls cover calls to hell?” “…Hell?” “She’s bisexual and dead, where else would she be?!?” — 💀

Grace whipping out the gun and telling Steph to cool her beans was so iconic of her

“(Canadian accent) ‘Cause if I’m going down, you hosers comin’ with me, eh” — OH MY FUCKING GOD

Doesn’t shock me a cop would arrest Paul for zero fucking reason, fuck the police 💀

“All I wanted was to be a regular girl with no sexual desire until she was safely married 😭” the FUCK-

“Don’t comfort her, she’s fuckin’ weird” 💀

“I don’t give a shit who you kill - but you just had to go and do it in that house, didn’t you?” — Mayor Lauter really said “murder is fine but NOT in that specific house, you fucking idiots”

THE LORDS IN BLACK?!? 😃 WIGGLY AND BLINKY AND POKEY AND NIBBLY AND TINKY?!?!? FUCK YEAAAAHH

“She gave me head in her car - check it out!” *throws Miss Tessburger’s head onstage* — BRO THE FUCK

WELP I GUESS MAYOR LAUTER IS DEAD THEN?!?

“Detective Shapiro, are you a woman of faith?” “Catholic.” “I’ll take that as a no” — THE FUCK GRACE 😑

They’re really about to summon five otherworldly entities who are evil I’m-

The Summoning screams CRACK and I’m living for it

“Hello Fwendy-Wends” - SCREAMING LITERALLY FUCKING SCREAMING

“WE DON’T GIVE A SHIT ABOUT YOUR PHONE” TOOK ME OUT ASDFGHJKL

SHE CHERISHES PETE 😭

“Pay the price or fuck off” 💀

Can I just say that I need would love a show specifically just about the Lords in Black fucking about and it’s Jon the whole time as Wiggly exactly as he was during the Summoning scene because that was AMAZING IM SHAKING-

The fact Pete cherishes Steph and she cherishes him oh my hEART 😭

“Hey Steph, if things were different, would you wanna come to homecoming with me?” “I’d like that, Pete. I’d really like that.” - SHUT THE FUCK UP NO 😭😭😭

Not Max saving Pete from being shot 💀

“So you do know the Bible!” — GRACE OMG IM SCREECHING HELP

“But Jesus never threw a football like you, Max” - WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING

Max being confused about what dirty girl soup is and then being turned on when she explains 😭💀

“Take me, Max, right here on the 50 yard line!” — oh dear gOD

Max’s struggle over whether to kill Steph and Pete or whether to bang Grace omfg 😭😅

THE NOISES OFF STAGE OMFG WTAF 😭💀😂😅🤣

Grace got Max kicking his feet, twirling his hair, after one shag, just like a teenage girl 💀 I’m crying so hard with laughter I can’t cope with it-

GRACE GAVE HIM HER CHASTITY AND SACRIFICED WHAT SHE CHERISHED MOST ASDFGHJKL

PETE AND STEPHANIE AT HOMECOMING TOGETHER ASDFGHJKL ✨T H E M ✨

Grace choosing not to get the dance cancelled and she brought a date?!? That’s character development! 😀

She let Jason walk her home?!? O_o and then asked him to kiss her?!?!

“That was… absolutely disgusting! Really, Jason?!? Kissing on the first date?!?” Oh noooo 💀

“You’re a dirty perv, Jason”

SHES GOT THE FUCKING BLACK BOOK IS SHE SUMMONING THEM AGAIN

🎵DIRTY DUDES MUST DIE🎵

Well thIS TOOK A FUCKING TURN DAMN

Anyway, 11/10, immaculate, amazing, incredible, show-stopping, would recommend to everyone of course and will definitely be rewatching it a LOT 🪓

117 notes · View notes