#anyway. southern johnny? maybe?

[mothercetrion]

okay now I'm thinking about Johnny being from the south

I don't believe it for a second BUT can you imagine? he grows up in a small town, nothing to do. he sees movie stars on TV and points and wants to be just like them! he wants to see the city lights and the people. he wants to walk the red carpet. he wants everyone to know his name. his mama is home from a long shift and she just smiles and shakes her head because he's so ambitious for his age

and then he grows up and learns how to mask his southern drawl and he acts in the school play and no one sees the vision that he does because no one has dreams like his, not in his eyes. no one gets it. he needs to get out and see everything! the world! he has to see it all since he's already seen every inch of his hometown

being southern is likely some sort of trivia information that some fans find out and are shocked to discover. he doesn't talk about it that much. when he actually lets his accent show, people are surprised

[shotmrmiller]

ghost getting himself a cute, soft girl he doesn't talk about much but is clearly obsessed with and price just thinks it's nice he's finally settled down, approves of the home he's made for himself, definitely approves of the one he's taken for himself.

soap asks kyle if he's seen you and he says, "yep. lovely bird he's got tucked away in her little dollhouse. makes great food, too." soap swears there's a subtle shift in his tone when he says "lovely", a hint of something deeper that flickers in his eyes for just a moment. soap simply sucks on his teeth, letting it slide. (although he knows that kyle's always been one to appreciate the good things in life.)

interest gnaws at him, a persistent itch he can't scratch. price likes you just fine, as does kyle. well what about him? he decides to bite the bullet and goes to simon with a knot between his brows, the corners of his lips tugged downwards. they've shared clothes, bullets, beds. if the other two got to meet you, why can't he?

"ya can come over for dinner on tonight. she'd 'ave my neck if she didn't formally meet ya anyway."

soap then asks, out of genuine curiosity more than anything else, if simon would have kept you in the dark from him hadn't he brought you up himself.

"ya meet 'er when i want ya to, boy, and not a moment before." the tone he takes is unmistakeable. his words are a command, not a suggestion, and soap instantly knows to not push further.

soap nods. "ah'll be there."

"course ya will. she'd be terribly disappointed otherwise."

yeah, he'd hate to have that.

soap sits in the living room, the soft glow of the lamp casting a warm light over the cozy place. with a full stomach and an unfastened belt, nursing a glass of kentucky. he can't remember the last time he ate that well or that much.

maybe it's the alcohol that loosens his tongue, or the fact that he wishes he also had a sweet little thing to keep at his side just like simon's doing with you now, but the thoughts he's been mulling over all evening since he first saw you tumble out of his mouth.

"while ah can attest to yer taste in sweethearts, can't say much about your alcohol. bourbon, LT?" he says, chest warm.

simon's arm tightens around your hips, fingers splayed possessively over your thigh. he shrugs, completely unbothered by the backhanded compliment. "can't be perfect in everythin', can we, sergeant?"

soap's cheeks burn furiously hot when you come to his defense with a smack of your palm onto simon's chest. "be nice to johnny. he's got a face that make up for some of his other flaws."

the teasing lilt in your voice unashamedly gets his southern blood pumping. he can't help it if certain things stir when someone as pretty as you look at him like that. soap swirls the amber liquid gently in the glass while keeping his limpid eyes on you, not even trying to hide the fact that his gaze hasn't wavered since your cheeky little comment.

you then whisper something in simon's ear, your cupped hand not even half the size of his head and soap has to rearrange himself from the outside when your teeth catch your bottom lip. simon looks up at you then, eyes heavy and half lidded, and a smirk plays at the corners of his mouth.

"'m not sure, love. you'll just 'ave to ask 'im yourself. go on."

you open that sweet mouth of yours, but simon cuts you off with a decisive wave of his hand. "no. you know how to ask for things."

your reaction to that is visceral, and you're on your knees faster than his alcohol-muddled brain can comprehend. don't look down 'er shirt, don't look down 'er shirt, don't-

"johnny, will you touch my pussy?"

he splutters at your question, completely taken aback, but it seems you're not done just yet.

"hands to yourself, sergeant. tha' not all."

you pout at simon, one that earns you a look that promises consequence, but do as he says.

"will you touch my pussy, johnny? pretty please?"

[confessionbrain-writings]

Southern Sass - Benny Cross

Pairing: Benny Cross x F!Reader A/N: It's no secret Benny is taking most of my mental space these days. But okay, so this was just a blurb that had entered my brain. Don't know if I turn this into more. But for now: enjoy!🧡

*Ring... ring... ring...*

*Click*

“Yeah?”

“Yeah?”

...

“That’s how you answer the phone?”

“Yeah…”

“Wow, man of many words, I hear.”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.. great, yeah-man, I’m calling for Johnny. Is he there?”

“Yeah.”

A few seconds of silence passed and a slow, annoyed feeling crept upon you.

“Okay, great. Can you go get him for me?”

“Mmm.. yeah..”

You rolled your eyes, was this man fucking serious?

“Fraid he’s busy right now.”

“Ugh, he always is. Can you tell him that Franki called?”

“Yeah.”

Annoyance turned into frustration and you couldn’t stop the words from leaving your mouth.

“You know, I really do hope you are a freak in the sheets, because your vocabulary isn’t very rich.”

A chuckle sounded over the line.

“Yeah… maybe y'd like to find out for y'self?"

"Thanks for the offer, but I'd rather not be disappointed, you know?"

"For someone who jus' wants t'speak t'Johnny, y'seem intrigued tho."

"Mmm... I think I'll be bored in seconds. Anyway, just tell Johnny I called, okay?"

"Yeah... Dunno... I reckon I could, maybe if I can take y'out for a drink."

A frustrated huff left you.

"I didn't ask for that."

"Well, it's on the house."

"Quite the charmer now, are you?"

"Yeah, that's what the ladies say."

"I'm sure they do, yet here you are, talking to me on the phone. What's your name, Casanova?"

"'s Benny."

"Okay, Benny. Very pleasant conversation this, but if Johnny isn't coming, I'm gonna go."

"Mmm... shame. I actually enjoyed our chat, Franki."

A smile crept upon your face and you shook your head.

"What does it stand for tho?"

"What?"

"Franki. Y'can't tell me that's ya real name."

"What if it is?"

"It isn't."

Pressing your lips together you rolled your eyes, why exactly were you still on the phone with him?

"Well?"

"Okay, Benny, I'm gonna tell you but then I gotta go, otherwise this is going to be expensive—"

"Don't worry, this is on me."

"How thoughtful."

"Yeah... but y'name?"

"Francesca."

He whistled.

"Fancy."

"Yeah..."

"Hey! That's my catch phrase y'stealin'."

"Too bad. Gotta catch me if you can."

*Tuut tuut tuut*

Leave some 🧡 by a comment or reblog, would love to hear what you think and if you like to read more!

A/N 2: read part 2 here

[cherryredstars]

HELLO DADDIES!!HELLO DADDIES!!

if u can, can u plspls do like Graves (and Soap maybe) on how would they treat u before they start crushing??

thx very much cherry 😘😘🍒🍒 have a good day!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Pairings: Phillip Graves x gn!reader, John "Soap" MacTavish x gn!reader

Warnings: None

A/N: I miss my COD babies!!!

Unedited

Phillip Graves

This man is totally indifferent to anyone and everyone outside of his Shadows. Sorry, love, but he probably didn't know you even existed until he started showing an interest in you. Doesn't matter if you've worked in the same base for years or have been on missions together. The second he's finished talking to you and the mission is complete, he's wiping any memory of you to make room for more important things.

He's a busy man, making plans to betray his own people under the command of General Shepard. He doesn't have time to remember any and every unremarkable face that won't be important once he and his men go rogue. Don't take it personally when you have to constantly remind him what your name is and that you have, in fact, worked together before.

Takes a remarkable amount of effort for him to memorize your name once Shepard informs him that you'll be added to their plan of betrayal. He isn't exactly sure what your role will be in the grand scheme of things. As far as he's concerned, you might just be another disposable pawn. Not worth getting to know you if you'll just end up dead anyways. However, he will admit that you would make a pretty scapegoat- for the five seconds he remembers your face, that is.

Once he realizes he likes you, it's like a switch clicks in his brain. One second he is horribly unaware of who you are, the next he is too aware of your existence. Drives him crazy that he could forget a face as sweet as yours. Your name is now permanently etched into his brain. Suddenly, you are far too important to be a throwaway soldier to their cause.

Eyes that once skimmed over you are now locked onto you. Graves finds himself hovering near your seat during secret briefings, his hands subconsciously coming to brush against your shoulders as he gives out orders. Well placed pats and squeezes that leave him craving more. He's the definition of "A fell first, B fell harder".

Definitely takes advantage of the fact that he has the most unique accent out of everyone else. Sure 141 has their different posh British accents and Scottish slang, the Los Vaqueros have their rumbling Spanish words that roll off the tongue, but none of them can replicate his sweet country tang. Drives him crazy how his accent affects you, throwing out random southern sweet talking to watch each country-laced endearment heat your cheeks. Likes fluctuating his voice, easily going from a higher pitch to a lower pitch to watch how the shift in tone has you squirming in front of him.

Don't blame him if he starts throwing hints at you about his dream of owning a small little ranch in the American countryside with a few cattle and farm dogs to tend to. It's only a coincidence that the only thing missing is a sweet thing to take care of all the housework while he works the fields and does all the outdoor labor. Did he mention how good he looks sweaty and shirtless with nothing but a cowboy hat to shield him from the sun and a pair of worn out levi's disappearing into a nice pair of cowhide boots? No, well you can always experience it first-hand if you wanted to.

John "Soap" MacTavish

The biggest flirt you will ever have the pleasure of meeting. Johnny is not scared to work his Scottish charm on you any chance he gets, even if he only sees you as a teammate. He finds it hilarious when he says something that leaves you absolutely baffled or causes you to roll your eyes.

Strong believer in the fact that you would have the hardest time figuring out if he likes you or not because he acts completely the same before and after he discovers he has a thing for you. The only difference is that he’s more of a show-off and way more energetic near you, which is hard to believe is possible, but it is.

He’s super friendly, of course. Super energetic and outgoing, always coming to you and Ghost when he’s in need of a good sparring or a buddy to go to the mess with for supper. The three of you are practically glued to the hip- Ghost a mostly unwilling participant- to the point where most people see you as best friends.

Don’t be surprised when he drops off the grid when he’s on leave, though. For all the nagging and clinginess he has on base, you’d be surprised how radio silent he is once he’s away from base. Don’t go obsessing over your phone waiting for a stray call or text from Johnny, you aren’t getting anything unless it’s a clear emergency or he’s heading back to base for deployment. Calling and texting outside the base is reserved for long time boot camp friends, family, and his Birdie, sorry. Looks like you don’t meet the requirements just yet.

This man is a kicked puppy whenever he isn't near you after he realizes he likes you. Suddenly, Ghost is always way too busy with whatever lieutenants do to spar and step away from his mountains paperwork to go to the mess. Looks like you're the only person who can help him pass the time on base. Don't worry about being too tired to leave your barrack, he didn't realize how tired he was until you said you were! Did he mention that he makes a great body pillow? You should test it out to see if the rumors are true.

Suddenly, his smiles and teasing looks are way more charming than normal. Don't ask why he's giving you constant bedroom eyes as he rests his chin in the palm of his hand, just let the intended effect wash over you. Promise that even though he's not listening to a single word you're saying that you still have his full attention. If you saw his face instantly switch to a look of mourning after one of the others joked about the two of you being best of friends, just know it's your fault because you didn't defend his honor by saying the two of you are way more than friends (despite the fact the two of you aren't even in the ball park of a talking stage).

Right before leave, Johnny is practically stepping on your heels. He's blabbering about meeting up during leave and going to a nice little pub, have a drink or two in your casuals. What's that, did he forget that the two of you don't live even remotely close to each other? Silly Birdie, didn't you know he's happening to come down for a visit. He's never been to your area before, maybe you can be his tour guide. You're too busy to hangout during leave? Well, have his personal number then! He's always up for a chat when you have the time. Don't keep him waiting for a text or a call, you might just make him die from the loneliness!

[another-identityofmine]

Please could you write a fanfiction where the reader has anxiety and hypochondria and Big Daddy Elvis is comforting her and reassuring her she's safe?🥺❤️

•••••Head To Toe•••••

Summary: Reader just isn’t feeling the best, and her anxiety isn’t helping her. Elvis makes sure to stand next to your sweet self and help you through it all.

Author’s note: thank you for your request my darling, of course this title was inspired by Lisa Lisa And The Cult Jam’s “Head To Toe.” But anyway, I hope I written this right! As I always say, if you didn’t like this I could always write you a whole new one. I’m not too familiar with hypochondriac so I’m sorry if it’s not exactly right in some ways. Um but yup.

Author won’t zip her lips: another thing, I’m sorry to you and everyone else who probanly want to request more stuff and all that…but the thing is I’m chicken. I’m genuinely chicken because I get overwhelmed at the thought of just having 3 requests. So ahem, apologies 👋

••••••••••••

So much has been on your mind. So much enough that as you lie in your bed and just toss and turn. You feel so off today, and you just feel aware of it all. You simply don’t know what’s going on with yourself!

Possibilities on top of possibilities crowd your mind on why you could be this tired, and lacking your usual energy. Busying yourself while being alone inside the dimly-lit room. Oh my gosh, what if I’m severely sick? Maybe I’m pregnant? Why the heck am I so tired? Wait, or it could be the flu? You gasp to yourself, clasping your dainty hand over your mouth as you continue to grow concerns on your self diagnosing. You inhale a deep breath, “okay, let’s stop playing doctor and try to-“ you exhale out to calm yourself until-

“hunny? Can I come in?” A light knuckle knock is heard and interrupts your thoughts, your head whips to the bedroom door and you hum. You can recognize that southern, sweet honey voice from anywhere.

“of course, Elvis. Come on in,” you hum out softly. Running flat of your palms down the creases of the red duvet to straighten anything besides straight. Make yourself at least a little presentable.

The creaky sound of the door is faint, you glance up to meet your boyfriend’s eyes. Those blue pupils that can capture you dead at any second of the day. You smile gently and wave a small hi, “hey, beautiful.” You sigh out with a soft laugh, trying to seem not at all troubled. But he knows you too damn well now.

“Hi handsome,” he snickers with that lip curl and crawls onto the bed with you. Shuffling into the comfy, velvety crimson sheets. You turn your head to press your forehead to his smooth, freshly shaven cheek. “Baby, what’s going on? I expected to see ya after rehearsals. Ya always come with mah lunch, I missed your pretty ass.” He chuckles out but a soft frown plants onto his face and you only inhale deeply to calm and sort your reasoning.

You find comfort and comprehension when you smell the spicy, homey cologne he wears all day everyday, shrugging shoulder to shoulder. “I-I…I don’t know what’s the matter with me now, I just feel, off.” You admit breathlessly, snuggling up to his side.

He purses his lips and nods understandingly, then wrapping his meaty arms to squish you lovingly into his lap. You smile widely, feeling so comfortable in his embrace. “Oh, m’sorry baby, I didn’t know ya felt like this…why dontcha relax? Ya can postpone the girls’ night out some time soon, and all that.” He says softy, his chubby and squishy chin that you adore rests on the top of your head. Nestled onto the beautiful locks of hair that’s on top of your pretty head.

You pout and bury your face into his neck, your nose into the crease that smells most immaculate. So strong of salty sweat, and tangy, spicy musk of his men’s perfume. “I don’t know how to relax,” you whisper out warmly against his chest. You then gasp and break away in his gentle embrace, with frightened eyes, “what if I’ve got hypochondria! I mean, c’mon that would explain so much-“

“Aw c’mere, my big-a-baby.” He smiles and shakes his head silly at you. His adorable baby. He cuddles you all back to his arms. “Yer fine, my girl. From your head tah toe. I’ll repeat myself, from ya pretty little head to yer itty bitty toes that walk the precious earth, you’re healthy as new. And even if not, and you feel off, like now for example, you’ll get through with it. That’s final.” He reassures sternly but with a heart warming tone.

You’re too fuzzy in love to protest, nodding weakly in his hug and you let out a gentle, “okay, daddy.” You whisper out, fluttering your eyes and wrap your arms to fully embrace your lover.

You find such love and comfort in this moment. From his prodding belly that you mold around just perfectly makes you smile to yourself. Probably healing you. His clothed, big arms trapping you sweetly, making you but yet willingly engulf his signature scent. To the chest hair from years of maturity from boy to man, tickle and scrape against your chin. This is it. This is your lover.

This is your cure.

••••••••••••

[hearts4golbach]

The Night Shift.

Johnnie Guilbert x Fem!Reader.

Chapter 23.

"Is that taco bell breakfast i smell?" jake said, sounding as if he was about to start floating to locate the smell. he turned the corner into the kitchen, where i was sitting with tara.

it was 7 in the morning, and the 4 of us were about to go finally pack up my old apartment. they insisted on helping despite me saying i could get it all done myself since i didn't own much anyway.

"Yes, jake." she rolled her eyes, tossing him his usual order. he squeeled like a little girl before tearing into the wrap.

"im gonna go get johnnie up." i walked down the hall towards our room and walked in silently.

johnnie laid on the bed with a peaceful look on his face. his arms were tucked awkwardly under his head as his legs were tangled in the blankets.

i gently shook his shoulder, placing a kiss on his forehead. "Good morning, sleepy head. we have breakfast."

he rubbed his eye, black eyeshadow transferring to his finger. "mornin'." he pulled me in, kissing me softly before sitting up. "When you were asleep, i organized the closet. you can fit your clothes in half of it now."

"Oh my god, really?" i furrowed my eyebrows, a small smile growing on my face.

"i mean, yeah. where else are you going to put your clothes?" he slipped on his socks and stood up.

his fingers tangled with mine as he led me back into the kitchen and sat down next to me. he rested his hand right above my knee as Jake immediately started a conversation with them. i passed johnnie his breakfast, and he dug in, clearly starving.

jake looked down at his phone, "what time do you think we'll be done?"

"Well, im not too sure. i mean, theres 5 of us packing up my tiny apartment, so it's probably around noon." i thought outloud, earning a 'hm' from jake.

everyone had finished their food. jake and tara went to get their shoes on and start the car while johnnie went to take off his makeup. i sat in the kitchen on my phone, waiting for johnnie to be done.

"Ready to go?" he asked, his clean face making me smile. it wasn't often i got to see him without makeup.

"mhm." i stood up and stretched. i put my hair into a messy bun to get it out of the way before walking out the door, johnnie not far behind me. "Thank you again for helping with all of this."

"Don't thank me." he hesitated as if he was going to add onto the sentence. he gently rubbed my lower back.

i hummed, "Okay, then."

Johnnie and i sat in the back of jakes car while him and Tara were up front. I zoned out. thinking about my old apartment made me nervous. although i wasn't going alone, something still felt off. after the incident and how easily i got imhured, i didn't want the same to happen to them. Or maybe it was the fact that my creepy old neighbor lent me a piece to a vaccum, and i still need to give it back, but i seriously doubted that was the reason. i decided to shove my paranoia down as i didn't want to let it ruin my day.

it was if i had blinked and we were already there. i picked my head up, rubbing the cheek that was leaning on my arm.

"i was room number 206," i commented, pulling the keys out of my pocket.

"i can't believe theres not a fucking elevator. This bitch has 5 stories." Jake complained as we tromped up the stairs.

"Just be glad she's not on the 5th one," tara wiped smudged lip gloss off the corner of her mouth.

"Exactly," johnnie nods, slightly out of breath.

i unlocked my front door and pushed it open, revealing my still messy apartment. "Oh, i never came back to clean up." i admitted, even though it was plain to see.

"dont worry about it, missy." jake teased in his southern accent.

tara and jake covered the kitchen while johnnie and i started in the living room. we all added songs to the spotify queue and got to work. i was smart enough to keep boxes stored in my closet. There was always a just in case thing. The living room was nearly empty, the only furniture consisting of a rug and a small sofa that i planned on putting by the trash for someone else to take. i didn't have much decoration, either. All that i had was a painting, my mother had made me and a thrifted portrait of marilyn monroe. The only other things on the wall were some empty colorful vases on a small shelf.

we quickly wrapped those up while tara and jake stacked all of my plates and bowls in between wash cloths. I announced we were moving to a different room before heading into the hall to focus on the closet.

The closet didn't take much work. We shoved blankets and towels into one big box before moving on to my bedroom.

my room was a much bigger task, considering this was the room i spent most of my time in. i sat at my vanity and began packing it up while Johnnie took over the closet.

"i want to stream later, and i was wondering if you wanted to be on it." Johnnie mentioned, bagging up clothes that were hung up.

"Sure, that sounds fun. im still kind of nervous though, what if your fans don't like me?" i glanced over.

"They'll love you, i promise." he smiled at me. "i was thinking i could do your makeup for the stream."

"fuck yeah." i agreed, standing up and making my way to my side table. "Didn't we make those plans a while ago?"

"Yeah, but then a bunch of shit happened. and i figured since we're together now, everyone should get to know you a little better." A light blush spread across his face.

"Good idea. im down," i agreed.

The rest of the house was packed up within the next 3 hours. Jake and i moved all of the furniture down to the garbage bins, with little help from tara and johnnie. i took one last look at my empty apartment before locking it up and turning in my keys.

[intheholler]

Any recommendations for catchy songs about specific American historical events? Hurricane by The Band of Heathens (unless I'm mistaken, it's pretty explicitlu about Katrina) and The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald are examples.

i love the song hurricane, but i didn't know about the other til now. thank you for the inadvertent rec!

also i don't know about catchy necessarily but i do have a few historical event tunes to recommend.

It's About Blood by Steve Earle is about West Virginia coal mining disasters, at the end of which he lists by name around two dozen victims of specific disasters. this one gives me chills. this whole album Ghosts of West Virginia does actually

Big Time in the Jungle by Old Crow Medicine Show is about snatching up poor, uneducated southern boys and shippin em off to Vietnam. pretty catchy, v fuckin dark by the end

Battle of Blair Mountain by David Rovics is about,, well,, the battle of blair mountain

Seneca Creek by Charles Wesley Godwin mentions the WV flood of 1985 though is about the singer's grandparents iirc

... and as i made this list i realized i sure talk a lot about and revere west virginia for someone whos never lived there (but plans to <3). anyway here's some stuff to balance it

Casey Jones by The Grateful Dead is about a conductor in Tennessee who stayed on a runaway train to let others escape to safety and ultimaetly died (and is catchy as fuck actually)

Battle of New Orleans by Johnny Horton is pretty straightforwardly about the war of 1812

Ohio by Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young is about the Kent State Massacre

American Pie by Don McClean was written in response to the plane crash that killed Buddy Holly, Ritchie Valens, and J.P. Richardson Jr. i feel like everyone knows this song but maybe not the actual meaning, i didn't know til a few years ago. so maybe i'm just behind

anyway if yall know any please add in reblogs or leave in the replies, i love this kinda thing

[adaptacy]

You mind writing a little Johnny Slaughter thing where the reader is southern, too? Not from Texas, but maybe from a whole nother state like Louisiana or Mississippi. Like, *really* southern- thick drawl, sassy attitude n everything. If it's not too much to ask, could the reader first start out as a victim? But the thing is, they're not really one to mess with. They're witty, quick, and honestly a bit of an asshole. They're worried about themselves- going as far as to sacrifice the other survivors to ensure their own survival. Maybe even off one themselves, quickly realizing that they like killing just as much as the rest of the family. Love ur work! (Also, have you heard about the new Nancy leaks? I'm so excited to see her, you have no idea.)

OMG OFC WAIT THIS IS GONNA BE SO FUN!!

i love requests ongogngrij

also YES!! I love her so much!! i saw someone (i think it was creepling's post) about what Nancy would think about johnny getting a soft spot for someone and oh god the brain juice started flowing with that. i think her and johnny will def be my mains bcs ive been dying for another female family member that isnt sissy (no hate to sissy, but i tried her and she just wasnt as fun as johnny)

anyways anyways anyways, here you go! this is gonna be fluff, but if you want an nsfw part lmk and i can make that work ;) <333 hope you enjoy!!

this is gonna be kinda cheesy and cute aside from the death (whoops) but if i do an nsfw it'll be more serious. i just thought this would be a good opportunity to write a jaw-dropped johnny who's like "oh shit i think im in love"

"The hell you wantin' now?!" You snarled, cracking your neck as you squared off with a man nearly twice your size. He was used to this kind of fighting back, but there was something about your volume, your genuine anger that was new to him. It was intriguing. He almost wanted to study your brain before he ate it.

"All that, and you still got caught, sweetpea. Ain't that quite the case of karma?" Johnny chuckled, casually spinning his blade in his hand. Beneath his feet was a brunette boy, far too bloodied to be anywhere near alive. You didn't know him, didn't care about him, and you were far more concerned with your own well-being than the safety of some stranger.

"Don't tell me yer gettin' cocky now, pretty boy?" You laughed. You'd wrestled unruly gators twice his size, you could manage this egotistical megalomaniac. Hell, you didn't win a championship in bull-riding for sweet talking it.

"Ain't you a little too pretty to be talkin' so much?" Johnny pouted, sulking closer with his head tilted.

"Ain't you a little too muscular to be flirtin' with yer food?" You rolled your eyes, gripping the kitchen knife tighter in your hand. He'd been so preoccupied with the random teenagers to keep an eye on you, exactly as you'd planned. While they were playing duck duck goose in the rickety basement, you'd been granted easy access to the family house. And with it, the kitchen. And with that, the knives.

Your knife was much larger than his, and it made up for the size difference between your bodies. You knew for a fact he was underestimating you, most people did. They thought you were all bark and no bite, but your bark was only really half your bite.

"I've made pie with apples mer fearsome than you," you teased. The man furrowed his eyebrows, seeming a little stung by your remark.

"The hell you from, anyways?" He shook his head, still not letting his guard down, but he seemed to be a little less on the offense.

"Louisiana, born 'n raised. Ain't you able to tell? Or you too dumb for that?"

"Drop the damn knife," Johnny demanded, and you couldn't help but laugh. Literally laugh. Not just giggle, not just chuckle, not just scoff- full-on laugh at his attempt.

"Or what? You gon' stab me with that there lil butterfly blade?" You mused, waving a hand in the air. "I'd like to see you try," you added, your tone a little lower.

Johnny opened his mouth to reply, but there was a voice from behind him, instead. "You-- You killed them! You killed all of them!" A female yelled, sounding hurt and angry. Both of you paused your bickering to turn towards an angry girl, a small pointy bone in her hand. "You killed my sister!"

Johnny scoffed, looking the girl up and down. You eased up as well, watching the interaction. "Ain't you see we was talkin'? Could'a waited your darn turn, missy," you grumbled, finding the interruption rather rude. The girl turned to you, her eyes wide.

"You-- You're that bitch at the bar! You gave my friend a concussion!" She accused, and you scoffed.

"Now, I would neva-- Oh, oh, she's yer friend? Well ain't that right rich! Small world, ain't it?" You laughed, reminiscing on the bar fight you'd gotten into after some city boy claimed he could take more rye whiskey than you. You were practically raised- hell, made out of whiskey. You had to show him up, obviously. It wasn't your fault his little girlfriend couldn't handle him losing.

It seemed as if the girl couldn't choose between who to attack, but when she finally did make up her mind, you found yourself in the hot seat. You assumed it was because she was more confident taking down you than she was taking down the man, but it was merely another case of underestimation. She swung the bone shiv towards you, and although Johnny stepped forward to do something, you had it handled.

You were the last woman who needed a man to rescue her. 'Specially against a pipsqueak like this chick was. As she rushed forward, you drove the kitchen knife directly into the girls gut. You weren't sure what possessed her to make such a foolish move as to charge at a woman with a knife, but it made for an easy means of defense. The brunette gurgled as blood splattered onto your mouth, hitting your cheek as she fell over your arm, eventually collapsing.

You twisted the knife out of the girls gut, reaching up and wiping the blood off of your cheek-- or, trying to, anyways, but you only really managed to smear it on your face. You scoffed in irritation, wiping the blood off on your shirt, and doing the same with the knife. After all, you didn't want to risk damaging the blade from the blood. It seemed like a good quality vegetable slicer.

With a simple clearing of your throat, you shook the girl off of your leg, looking back at your opponent. He was frozen in place, his eyebrows furrowed and his face contorted in a mix of confusion and disgust. "Now, where was we at? Them city girls just ain't got no manners. Momma neva raised 'em right," you complained, giving the kitchen knife a once-over before looking back at Johnny.

He blinked, remaining silent.

"You still home, or you gone out to get groceries?" You frowned, confused as to why he wasn't responding. You snapped your fingers and swung your weight onto one leg, placing your free hand on your hip. "Mister muscles? You missin' yer brain?"

"Who are you?"

You chuckled, shaking your head. "I was merely defendin' myself. Ain't nuthin' special 'bout it. Now, where's we at? You still wanna go, pretty boy?"

Johnny licked his lips, pulling his head back. He tucked his knife into his pocket, and a small smile spread over his face. "You wanna go out sometime?"

"Kidnappin' and threatenin' a woman ain't no way to get 'em in yer bed," you scolded, tilting your head. "I know yer mama's taught you better'n that. Ain't she?"

"You like rye whiskey?"

You smirked. "That's more like it. Count me in."

[lilithknoxville]

Needy (Johnny Knoxville x F!Reader!) 18+!

Summary: “Wait, what the fuck happened to your arms?!” You asked, your eyes widening again in surprise and horror. His hands grabbed your ankles, dragging you to the foot of your bed. Your breath left your lungs for a moment as he got in your face, his eyes needy.

“Anaconda in a ball pit. Don’t wanna talk about it. Need you.” He murmured, pressing his lips to yours within a second.

Content Warnings: Graphic Smut, 18+, Oral (Fem Receiving), Swearing, Dirty Talk, Daddy Kink

AN: PHEWWWWWWW. i was debating between a smut or a fluff and we see what side won. i am a whore. but it’s okay bc it’s johnny LOLLLLLLL. also maybe someday i’ll know how to properly end a story. today is not that day…

please leave requests in the inbox! this one just kind of. fell out of me. also if anyone wants to be my beta reader i think id love you forever. i need a beta reader bad. OKAY ANYWAYS into the story ✨

You were sitting in Johnny’s bedroom, mindlessly scrolling through TikTok, chuckling at videos here and there. It was one in the morning, and you were still wide awake. Johnny was out late, a shoot taking longer than expected. He had texted you, letting you know way beforehand that this one would be taking a while. You had sent him some videos of your rabbit vibrator in you, the videos going unanswered. You were used to it by now, the shoots took up most of his time. You had done your business, came to the thought of him three times, then put your toy away. You were getting sleepy, your eyelids getting heavy.

The sound of the front door to the apartment slamming shut made you sit up in a panic. Footsteps echoed off of the walls, and the bedroom door opened suddenly. Johnny was standing in your door frame, blood covering his forearms and soaked into his white t-shirt. His rainbow suspenders, which were also blood soaked, hung loosely around his shoulders. Your eyes widened in fear for a moment, before relaxing into a confused smile.

“Shit, babe. You scared the hell out of me.” Your hand came to your chest, but as you slowly took in the sight of his appearance, you blinked in confusion, “Wait, what the fuck happened to your arms?!” You asked, your eyes widening again in surprise and horror. His hands grabbed your ankles, dragging you to the foot of your bed. Your breath left your lungs for a moment as he got in your face, his eyes needy.

“Anaconda in a ball pit. Don’t wanna talk about it. Need you.” He murmured, pressing his lips to yours within a second. You made a noise of surprise against his lips, your arms wrapping around his neck. The kiss was bruising, Johnny not even giving you a moment to breathe. You broke the kiss, sucking in a quick breath.

“Whoa, slow down!” You let out a breathless laugh as Johnny’s hands were already at the waistband of your pyjama pants, pushing them down your thighs, discarding them somewhere on the floor, “Where’s the fire?” You asked in confusion, watching him kneel down at the foot of your bed. His hands shoved your thighs up towards your face, and you saw bloody handprints on your ankles. You gasped out a breath, trying to sit up. His tongue darted out, wetting his lips. Your pussy was still soaked from earlier, and he moved his face closer, licking a long stripe up towards your clit. You bit your lip hard, your body writhing and your head falling back against your pillows.

“Need you. Fuckin’ opened the videos you sent me on set. Haven’t stopped thinkin’ about them.” He murmured, the southern accent causing thrill to run through your veins. His hands scrambled at the seam of your underwear, tearing them in half along the seam.

“Goddamnit, you can’t keep tearing my underwear, PJ.” You threw your head back against the mattress, a strangled moan tearing from you as he dove into your pussy, his tongue diving into your weeping slit.

“I’ll buy you more.” He growled, his hand coming up, his thumb lazily circling your clit. His tongue dove into you again, immediately finding that spot that had you seeing stars and your body writhing again. Your hands came to his hair, moans tumbling from your lips, as he devoured you like a cannibal. His mouth dipped up, his lips attaching to your clit and sucking gently. You rolled your hips, your chest rising and falling quickly. He changed his ministrations from sucking on your clit, back to his tongue diving back into your pussy.

It wasn’t long before the coil started to wind itself in your stomach, the pace of his tongue relentless. It was like he wanted to pull an orgasm out of you as fast as possible, and it was working. Between his tongue in your pussy and his thumb on your clit, he had that thread inside of you snapping within a moment. Your hands pulled his hair hard, your back arching off of the bed. His groan rumbled through your body, adding to the already heightened feeling racing through you. His face stayed between your legs until you whined from overstimulation. He pulled back from between your legs, his chin and lips covered in your slick. He wiped his mouth with his hand, giving you the smirk he knew drove you crazy.

“Head of the bed, now. All fours, hold onto the headboard.” His voice was gruff, and you scrambled over yourself, getting into the position he demanded of you. You faced the wall, your ass poking up into the air. You heard the sound of his belt clinking, and the soft Whoosh of his slacks hitting the floor. He came up behind you, his thick cock dragging against your weeping slit. You grit your teeth, shuddering.

He lined himself up, pushing into you with one thrust. You groaned, your knuckles going white from how hard you were gripping the headboard. He stayed in place for a minute, letting you get used to the feeling.

“Y-You’re good, honey.” You shuddered underneath his hands, which were on your hips, gripping them tightly. You heard a low chuckle from behind you, and if you thought he was relentless eating you out, his pace fucking you was even more brutal. You let out another groan, your voice cracking, as his hips slammed into your ass relentlessly. Tears pricked the corners of your eyes, as you dropped your head, catching a glimpse of his cock slamming in and out of you.

“Take this fucking cock,” He growled out, his left hand coming from your hip to your neck, pulling you up to where your back was against his chest. His hand snaked around the front of your neck, his thumb and forefinger applying the right amount of pressure to the sides of your neck that made your head swim, “You fucking slut.” He snarled, and the tears pricking the corners of your eyes fell down your cheeks.

His tongue darted out, licking the tears off of your skin. Your eyes rolled back in your head, your right hand leaving the headboard and tapping his forearm frantically. The grip he had on your neck loosened, and you sucked in a breath. You heard him chuckle lowly in your ear, his hips snapping against you harder this time.

“Gonna cry over how amazing this cock feels?” He spat, his lips curled up in a vicious smile, “That’s it, you little slut, let Daddy love you the way you deserve.” His pace was relentless, almost frantic.

The coil in your stomach started to burn red hot again, and you sobbed, two of his fingers coming to your mouth and pressing hard against your tongue. Your lips closed around his fingers - your tongue circling around his digits - as your eyes rolled back in your head again.

“That’s it, my sweet girl. My sweet slut.” Johnny grunted out through clenched teeth, his voice tight in his throat, “Cum all over Daddy’s cock.” His words finally broke you, and you all but screamed around his fingers, your orgasm hitting you like a tonne of bricks. Your pussy fluttered around his cock, and he grunted out, his teeth sinking into the dip of your shoulder.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck. Yes, just like that baby.” He snarled against your skin, his tongue darting out and licking away the small amount of blood pooling on your shoulder. His breath was heavy against your skin, his pace speeding up even more. At this point, you were sure his hipbones were going to leave bruises against your ass with how hard he was pounding into you. You sobbed, thick tears running down your cheeks at the overstimulation, “Just like that, babygirl.” His tongue ran over the wounds on your shoulder, pressing hot, open mouthed kisses against your neck.

“Da-Daddy~!” You cried out, and you heard his groan reverberate through your head. His pace started to become sloppy, his own orgasm near.

“Fuck, sweetheart-!” He grunted out, his moans strangled beside your ear. You gasped out choked sobs, his hand leaving your neck and coming back to your hip.

Within a couple of thrusts, Johnny stilled, as his cock twitched and pulsed in you. You threw your head back, letting out an animalistic scream as another orgasm rippled through you at the same time. You dropped your head to the pillow in front of you, gasping in greedy breaths. Your heart was racing in your chest, and your thighs trembled around his legs.

It was a quiet couple of seconds while you and Johnny caught your breath. He sucked in a shaky breath, pulling out of you, causing you to whine from the empty feeling. Your legs gave out under you, and you heard him chuckle gently. He got up from the bed, getting into the drawer where he knew you kept the towels. He went into the bathroom, and you heard the tap running. He returned to the bed, using the - now damp - towel to wipe the blood off of your legs, hips, and anywhere he had touched you. He turned you over, wiping you completely down. You turned over after a moment, giving him a tired smile.

“Now do I get my answer of what happened to your arms?” You asked, a soft chuckle coming out of your lips. He laughed as well, going to the bathroom that was attached to your bedroom.

“Stupid fucking idea of me, Ryan, and Wee-Man in a ball pit with an anaconda. No, wait, it was two anacondas.” You watched as he dabbed one of the washcloths you used for cleaning across his arms, the activities opening up the wounds again. He patched himself up as best as he could, half assed putting gauze all over his arms, “I was supposed to catch one of them, but the fucker kept whippin’ his head back and bitin’ me.” He got all of the blood off of his arms, throwing the shirt he was wearing into your bathroom trash can. He was fully nude as he walked back into your bedroom, digging through your drawers for new clothes.

“If it was literally anyone but you, I would be surprised. You get checked by medical before you practically burst my door down?” You asked, a small yawn tearing its way from your lips. You heard him chuckle before he was slipping a new pair of underwear onto your legs, covering you with the comforter a second later. He crawled into bed beside you, holding you tight. You shifted uncomfortably until you got used to the feeling of the gauze on your skin.

“Yes, I did. Said it should heal within a couple of days, since they were surface punctures at best.” He held you tightly, the sound of his heartbeat soothing you and you snuggled more against his chest.

“You wanna explain why you practically tore my door off of the hinges to fuck?” You asked, his laugh rumbling through his chest.

“Bam’s stupid ass. I had my phone on one of the tables by the cameras, and before we got shootin’, you sent me that video.” His voice was husky again, his lips by your hairline. He pressed kiss after kiss to your forehead and scalp. “Bam brought me my phone, makin’ it sound like you were textin’ me frantically. Of course, I thought something was wrong at first, but I made the brilliant choice of openin’ the video you sent me.” He laughed, and you felt your cheeks heat up in embarrassment.

“Did anyone-” You asked, but he shook his head quickly.

“No, babygirl. No one saw what was on my phone. I closed out of my texts and put my phone in my pocket before anyone saw.” He reassured you, and you let out a shaky exhale, “Though it was in my head the entire time. Wasn’t thinkin’ straight, so that’s why the anaconda was able to take a couple of nibbles on me.” He chuckled against your forehead, his fingers tracing over your shoulder. He pulled his head back, looking at your shoulder. Where he had bit your shoulder had nice teeth marks in your skin, and he grimaced.

“Don’t worry about them, hon. They don’t hurt.” You assured him, shrugging, “I’ll doctor them up in the mornin’. It’s bedtime now.” You giggled softly, pulling his head down to where it was resting against yours. He hummed, his arms snaking back around you tightly.

“Bedtime it is, ma’am.” He murmured, and you rolled your eyes hard.

“Don’t call me that, PJ. I love you, but you know I hate that shit.” You chuckled, and he pressed another kiss to your forehead.

“I love you too, sweetheart. But you know my mama raised me to be a southern gentleman.” He smiled against your skin, and you shook your head slightly.

“I wouldn’t have you any other way, baby. Goodnight.” You leaned your head up, giving him a sweet kiss, before you nuzzled your head into his chest. His heartbeat was coming back down to a normal level.

“Goodnight, babygirl. Sweet dreams.” Johnny pressed another kiss to your head, before letting his head fall back against the pillows.

[philipjohnclapp]

Great! Anyway I can request a Bam Margera x Female!Reader smutty imagine? Maybe Bam ends up meeting Johnny’s younger sister and they end up in a relationship at some point. While in said relationship maybe another cast member ends up flirting with her at a party to piss of Bam on purpose and it ends up leading to some protective Bam and jealous sex?

Sex Pollution

Jackass Imagine

A/N: To those who said I can’t write, get a load of this! Haha!

Imagine you’re Johnny Knoxville's sister, probably younger sister. You’re southern, with a real heavy drawl, and look almost identical to him. Maybe not, but you can definitely see resemblances. You grew up close, surely not a girly girl, you get your hands dirty with no questions asked. You’ve spent the start of your brother's career watching, like a bird. Never really met any of the guys, you didn’t really care. Steve-O was too wild, and you weren’t a fan of heavy drugs, Pontius was too flirty, and oddly, Preston and Wee-Man had their own duo, Dunn? Well, he seemed nice, but he didn’t have the best hygiene, and that was enough on its own to be a deal breaker. Who else were you missing?? Never mind…

You never really were looking for a relationship, really, or even a casual friendship. But things happen all the time; and when Jackass came to town, and your mother let these guys stay a few nights, your plans flipped upside down. You were left confused, flustered, and you felt like a teenage girl all over again. With some kid crush on a guy with such a cute face. Handsome like a guy should be, but he was pretty. Not pretty enough you’d mistake him for a girl, though. Just pretty enough for you to gawk at, to sneak around with when all the guys and your family are asleep. Getting drinks, and sneaking pecks on the lips. Before you knew it you were in your own secret relationship with a guy by the name; Bam Margera. It rolled off the tip of your tongue; and you liked it that way.

And then you moved on to Hollywood, the land of the stars. It was quick, sudden really. It wasn’t permanent, no, you were staying with your brother by day, and sneaking off into hotels by night. Because this whole Bam thing was getting serious. And then you found out party’s exist, and that opened a world of fun. Especially when you found out one of the guys was throwing a rager; and it may or may not be that oh so annoying guy you met months prior. Fucking Steve-O, but you couldn’t care less as you went hand and hand with your boyfriend. Having the time of your life.

Until you weren’t, well, you still were, with a few drinks down the hatch. The only one who was growing increasingly more disturbed, upset, was Bam. Some random guy, probably as high as anyone else was chatting you up a storm, and starting to get real handsy. He wasn’t completely random as you knew that face from the set, but with the alcohol in your system you just couldn’t tell who it was. You were polite, didn’t really wanna make a scene, so you used the excuse you needed to get another drink, smiled with your southern charm in full spring, and headed straight to the kitchen.

The minute you stepped away from the cast member and Bam was taking your place, you could see from the corner of your eye. He was threatening the guy. And it was almost funny to you. Almost. Because the moment you were in the kitchen, Bam was coming up behind you. Wrapping his arms around you and mumbling into your ear, his voice sounded so harsh for a whisper. Almost as rough as sandpaper,

“Fuck were you doing with that scum?”

He growled, like a feral dog. His embrace tightened as he pressed himself up against you. In the kitchen. You were stunned, letting out a breath of air that you felt like you hung onto almost too long as you stayed still, your brain short circuiting as you tried to come up with an answer. You swore you had one, but it popped like a bubble. Your head was as empty as the sky tonight. And Bam didn’t seem to care as he started talking again. His rough nails clawing your sides as he ran his hands up and down them like a cat scratching his owner's couch.

“It doesn’t matter, you know you’re all mine.”

You did. Well, if you didn’t before you certainly know now. His boner pressing against your asscrack was certainly showing it. And fuck, did you like being his. And Bam was gonna make sure you knew it.

He shoved you against the floating island, brushing all the cans, and needles, and lord knows what else off the counter as you bent over for him. Bam ripped your pants down so fast you could’ve sworn he ruined your jeans. Fuck. You couldn’t even be bothered to care as you arched your back for him. He ripped his own pants off with record speed, and would have broken the world record for that one as he slipped his boxers down completely.

Bam was as hard as a gun, and you couldn’t even be bothered with all the party goers so close. The chances of someone walking in and or seeing this was close to a hundred, fuck it probably was going to happen. You didn’t care, luckily Johnny wasn’t here. He’d skin Bam like a pig.

It seemed that Bam didn’t care either, he didn’t have any decency either as he just shoved himself inside of you, and you moaned instantly. Your walls clenching onto him as you squealed with pleasure. Jerking your hips forward instinctively as he started immediately with rough, quick thrusts. You could’ve gotten whiplash he was being so rough, all you could think was fuck as he dug his nails into your side, his other hand gripping hard into your hair, pulling your head back as he warned you,

“You’re mine…fuck…baby, you’re all mine.”

He grunted, letting out his own quiet moan as he quickened his pace. His thrusts getting all messy and desperate, the smell of sex polluting the kitchen and probably spoiling the alcohol as you both neared your climax. His grip on your hair tightened so much you thought he’d rip your hair out, and then he pushed himself deep inside of you, and you saw white as he came inside of you, and you came onto him, moaning as the pleasure swallowed you like a tornado. Fuck, you’ve never been so glad to be his.

[b4mpyre-k1zz3s]

You’re writing is so good, just had to get that out of the way.

I’d love to see an x reader with Johnny where the reader goes with him back to Knoxville to his childhood home

Down Home Christmas

Y/N doesn’t know what to expect when Johnny asks her to go with him to visit his folks for the holidays, but she has a Christmas she’ll never forget!

Johnny Knoxville X Fem!Reader

(Fluff)

1.6k Words

Warnings: Drinking, kissing, shit, play fighting

An: Thank you so much for the request and happy holidays if you celebrate!!!! So sorry for the wait but I thought this would make an amazing holiday special :) I’m sure we’ve all had experiences with family holiday parties, and this in part is inspired by my own whacky extended family! One of my friends suggested that I look to the film Four Christmases (2008) for an idea of what Johnny’s family may be like, so I’m sure you can see some of the inspiration there XD Anyway, thank you for the request and please keep them coming!

As you walked up to the front door from where your taxi dropped you off, the snow was painted rainbow colors from the bright Christmas lights strung about the house as powder crunched under your feet. Breathing puffs of hot air on your hands, you cursed yourself for not wearing gloves as you rang the doorbell. Oh, but it was all worth it when you saw Johnny running to the door like he was a kid on Christmas morning, all smiles. Throwing the screen door hard enough to nearly break it, he practically tackled you into the snow when he hugged you, burying you in the warmth of his arms, “Y/N, honey! M’so great to see you!”

He showed you inside the house- tiny, but god, was it packed. The place radiated this human warmth, the air swimming with smells of festive spices that made you practically drool. Holding your frigid hand in his, Johnny led you to the kitchen where those wonderful smells were coming from. As you squeezed past the people clustered in the front hall, Johnny gave you the rundown on a few notable characters you wiggled past, “Oh! That’s Aunt Dotty- her girl does pageants, Earl over there’s gotta taxidermy gig on the side, and Maureen’s the proud mom’a those five little maniacs out back playin’ with the ax.”

As the two of you stopped in the doorway, you ogled the heavenly spread of food on the table as your boyfriend called to a woman who stood at the stove, “Hey, mama!” She turned around and Johnny nudged you towards her a little, sounding so proud as he showed you off excitedly, “This is Y/N!” She turned away from the pots and her face just lit up, walking over to you and giving you one of those heart melting mom hugs, “Oh, my PJ’s finally gotta girl! I’m so happy’t meet you, sweetheart!” You were initially a little supprised- you weren't used to this kind of touchy-feely southern hospitality, but strangely enough, it didn't feel weird. It was actually pretty nice. Pulling back, she smiled teasingly as she noticed that look in your eyes, “What’s the matter? You're lookin’ like you haven't eaten all day!”

“That’s not it- I’ve just never seen that much food before. It’s just…wow.” The most your family ever did was maybe a turkey, nothing like the banquet this miracle woman had prepared. Johnny could’ve sworn he saw you drool a little. He chuckled, charmed at how enamored you seemed by something so basic to him, a grin spreading across his face as he handed you a plate, “C’mon, fill up, girlie!”

There were people sitting just about everywhere in the living room. Little kids clustered on the beige carpet around the Christmas tree with toy cars and dolls, parents and grandparents all had seats on the floral upholstered furniture talking sports or politics or whatever, leaving you and the adult children to fit in wherever you could. You and Johnny shared the seat in front of the oak piano at one end of the room with a couple other people sitting on the closed lid of the piano itself, all drinking and sharing stories together like a scene right out of one of those hallmark movies, only maybe a little less conventional.

“So that’s why m’cousin Dusty’s not allowed to show off his ‘talent’ at family gatherings anymore.” Johnny chuckled, taking a bite of his sweet potato casserole as the room buzzed with laughter. It was a wonder how he could make even the grossest subjects hilarious. Even you couldn’t keep from cracking up, placing your plate on the coffee table, “Hey, speaking of, d’ya know where the bathroom is?” Standing up, Johnny gestured for you to follow him, stepping carefully around people.

He led you down a dim hallway stopping in front of a wall when his eye caught something, “Hey, check this out.” Johnny took a picture off of a nail on the wall and handed it to you. Through the darkness, you could make out most of the general features. It was your boyfriend and he looked pretty young in the photo, maybe around high school age, but god, it was awful. “You actually had a mullet?” He broke out into snickers and you quickly followed as he tried to stabilize himself against the wall, his voice shaking from laughter, “I mean, business in the front, party in the back- It was nineteen eighty nine!” Once one of you caught your breath, your eyes would inevitably drift down to that damn photo and you would succumb yet again, the two of you laughing there until you had tears running down your faces.

Aunt Lynn excitedly passed you a tray of horderves- Ritz crackers with spray cheese on top- as you sat back down, “Oh, honey! You’re just in time!” Confused, you looked up to your boyfriend when he stood up with this little glin of anticipation in his eye as the people sitting in the center of the room cleared out, pushing away furniture to form a circle. A freckle faced kid at your feet took a cracker himself, making weird eye contact with you as he licked the cheese right off. Pushing aside all speculation, you shoved your cracker into your mouth. Not half bad.

Johnny stood with his stance wide and low at one end of the circle, starting up some friendly trash talk, “Hey, how’d your last tour go, Rodge?” Johnny’s cousin Rodger, the one that was a country musician, glared at him from the opposite side, “Yeah? Why don’t we talk about that last movie y’did?” Your boyfriend’s eye twitched and in an instant he was on him and the two started fighting like animals. Johnny had his hands around the other man’s neck as he swung his long legs up to try and pin him but his weight wasn’t enough leverage to take Rodger down. The whole room roared as a scene straight out of a backyard wrestling tape played out when Johnny was slammed onto the carpet, landing on his back hard enough to knock the wind out of him. On the side, someone started a count and Rodger leaned back, grinning as he held him down, “I think you lost your edge, Holl’awood.” Just as quickly, your boyfriend gasped, catching his breath with an exhausted smile. He slipped to one side and lunged forward with gritted teeth, throwing him into a headlock, “No way! You’re goin’ down, hoss.”

They went at it for maybe ten minutes and even you couldn’t help yourself from getting caught up in all the excitement, cheering and whooping with the rest of his family. “Ah! Uncle! Uncle!” Panting, Johnny tapped the ground next to him as a plea for mercy. You should’ve known- your boyfriend had a physique comparable to Gumby. Rodge pulled away with a smirk on his face, giving him a playful shove, “Always knew y’were a pussy, cuz. Love ya.” It was an oddly sweet moment between the two of them, even as Johnny sat up, coughing a little with a faint smile on his face as he got in one last jab, “Beatin’ me don’t mean shit. S’like beating a girl!”

And the night went on, with just as much laughing and drinking and bad behavior, but once midnight rolled around, people started peeling off. Johnny spent the later part of the evening clinging to your side, surprisingly sappy as he begged you to stay a while longer, “D’aww, c’mon…just one night won’t hurt.” Maybe you were more tipsy than you thought, judging from how nice that idea sounded. Sipping your rum punch- the one you got out of the big bowl with the ice ring of fruit- you giggled, laying your head on his shoulder,“I can’t…I gotta be at work t’morow!” You never knew your boyfriend to be a sentimental drunk but maybe coming home flipped some switch in him. Either that or you.

Johnny followed you like a lost dog as you got up to get your coat on, squeezing past the people trickling out the door, “But’cha gotta promise to call me, okay?” The headlights on the taxi you called shined bright in the darkness as it sat parked outside. You slipped your shoes on, “I promise!” As you were about to leave, someone stopped you in the doorway with a tap on your shoulder. It was of Johnny’s cousins. He grinned, pointing upward at the sprig of mistletoe hung above you, “Hey, mistletoe. You know what that means!”

“Yeah.” Your boyfriend chuckled, shoving him out of the way. Johnny looked down at you lovingly, wrapping his arms around you, his voice low as he nearly whispered an inch from your face, “I know exactly what that means.” Pulling you close, he dipped you, giving you a kiss like a soldier who just came back after the war. You didn’t even notice the cold that nipped at your skin as the onlookers inside whooped and hollered at the spectacle Johnny was putting on, kissing you with fervor, only pulling away an inch or two to catch his breath, the warm air between you turning into little puffs of white smoke as it began to snow.

[ohbo-ohno]

Obessed with the idea where you’re just really damn fast in the ghoap serial killer AU.

So Simon and Johnny let you go thinking it’d be a fun little game for them, except— much to their shock— you make them work for it. (Maybe you’re muzzled during this so that you don’t try to scream and attract attention from anyone nearby?)

Just imagining Johnny being giddy with excitement and Simon cocking his head ever so slightly as they watch you disappear into the forest. They’d take off after you, feet thundering against the ground and echoing throughout the forest— and somehow, you seem to speed up even more.

Feel like you would have the advantage of being lighter than Simon and Johnny, letting you gain more momentum, enough to prevent them from capturing momentarily; but I also feel like they’d have shitloads of stamina and their military training to boot.

So maybe in the beginning they take it easy, perhaps underestimating you— something they make sure to not do next time— and just yelling out to you in the forest. Johnny would taunt you with a big shit-eating grin on his face and Simon would say the most ominous shit that would internally freak you the fuck out.

The start to get worried when they notice some smoke and realise some campers or something are nearby.

You notice the same time they do and you take off with them hot on your heels. (Knowing that Death in the form of two men are following close behind you, that these people will likely die because of your choice— knowing and choosing to anyway, praying that they’ll be enough to distract Simon and Johnny long enough so that you can escape.)

Your start to hear sounds, and something stirs in you; but before you can make it another step you’re slammed into the ground and the air is forced out of you. Maybe you’re dazed and can’t focus on anything but breathing at the moment- you don’t even notice when you’re picked up or being moved, can only scream in frustration later when Simon and Johnny have chained you up as punishment.

(Simon ends up putting a leather shock collar on you next time they play so that you don’t get to far— unbeknownst to you of course. You just think that they’re fucking insane and logically, in your brain, said territory just comes with weird kinks on top of that.)

🍋 Anon

Lemon you’re my soulmate

I’m always so torn on how much of a Character to make a reader insert, because I don’t want to actually make an OC. I never describe readers in my WIPS either (so anyone can read them - please let me know if I ever use descriptive words and I’ll cut them out) past having them be AFAB and fem presenting, but the temptation to give them a decently unique background is sooo strong.

I love love love the idea of the Serial Killer AU!Reader being from like, rural southern America (like me lol) and having grown up chasing friends through the forest, so this whole “playing tag with a serial killer” thing ends up being just That taken to its most extreme version. She’s a little bit feral, she’s run barefoot through the woods before, she can do this

The scenario you wrote with the campers has my heart pounding. I could see that going one of two ways

(a) You make it to the campsite. As soon as you spot the smoke you’re off like a shot, and because you’re closer to the campers than Ghost and Soap, you get there first. The poor campers are having a lovely night toasting marshmallows and bam - a naked, muzzled, and filthy woman bursts into the clearing like her ass is on fire.

You try to rush them out - don’t worry about the muzzle you have to fucking go they’re literally right behind you - but they’re not listening, crowding around you instead and prying at the muzzle, at your sluggishly bleeding cuts (from the bushes you’d skimmed). They’re weirdly touchy, and you end up desperately shoving their hands away and near screaming through the muzzle to be heard.

The first one is shot through the head. One second he’s panicking and telling his friends to get away from you, the next his head is just gone - just an explosion of red and brains from a shotgun blast. That gets the others screaming, gets them dashing away from you. But you know it’s too late, can only fall to your knees and squeeze your eyes shut in hopes that it’s over soon.

You only stay like that for a moment, their screams already fading a little with your disassociation, when a rough hand grabs a chunk of your hair and yanks back. Your eyes fly open, and Simon rumbles in your ear, “No, look. Look at what he’s doing to them. Look at what you’ve done to them.” You thrash a little, throwing yourself this way and that to try and get away but Simon’s grip doesn’t loosen at all, and you don’t want him to tear chunks of your hair out. You squeeze your eyes shut to block out the axe Johnny raises high above his head and the screaming girl beneath him, only to feel a heavy smack against your cheek. Simon snarls, his anger radiating through every word. “No. You fucking look. This is your fault, these people wouldn’t have died if you hadn’t fucked everything up. You’re going to watch them suffer, and then you’re going to dig their graves.”

And you do. You watch Johnny decapitate the girl, watch him guy another person and force their head down to see it, watch him strangle a third, bash a fourths head in with a rock. The dirt is more red than brown by the time he’s done, and you can’t hold back the sobs and pained moans, loud enough to be heard even through the muzzle. Johnny sits with you and the corpses while Simon grabs a shovel, reiterates again and again that these people died because you were a fucking idiot, and the three of you are out until sunrise while you dig a grave for them.

Later, Simon bandages your wrecked hands and Johnny coos over you, kisses your palms and apologizes when you whine at the sting. Simon gives you painkillers, and neither of them make you lift a finger until you’re all healed up

(b) You don’t make it to the campsite. Johnny and Ghost have already got you in their sights, and the half second you pause in surprise before taking off to your gives them enough time to catch up. You run with everything you’re worth, sprinting faster than you ever have before to get there before them and pray to God someone has a gun.

You’re almost there, you could nearly throw out a hand and be seen in the clearing, when you’re tackled to the earth. You go rolling, breath knocked out of you and your back erupting in pain as you’re viciously held to the ground. There’s a hand locked around your throat, and body straddling you, and it takes a minute for you to be able to blink past the pain and see that it’s Johnny.

“What were you gonna do, huh? Gonna go running off and beg for help? No one can fucking help you out here, bonnie. We’d slaughter them - might just do it anyway. That what you want? Huh?”

His teeth are bared, sweat dripping from his face to yours and eyes alight in a sort of primal rage. He flips you onto your stomach, fucks you deep into the dirt right there as you stare at your would-be saviors. You scream, cry, beg, and more, but the muzzle muffles you so you’re not even sure if Johnny can hear you. Your orgasm comes just as the first person’s head is blown to smithereens

Love the inclusion of the shock collar again. I feel like it fits more in this AU than the other one tbh

[ishomieokay]

Masks We Wear (Chapter 1)

Teen and Up. 2.1k, canon-typical violence, ptsd, mental health issues, mentions of murder, morally grey!john, non-sexy-choking, anger issues, hints of mallory/john if you squint. part 1/44. AO3 link. part 2, part 3.

Right before turning eighteen, John Vogelbaum escapes the clutches of Vought. Always under the radar, he manages to live as a regular Joe for the next couple of years. Until one day, trouble comes knocking at his door in the shape of Grace Mallory. What does the CIA want to do with him, anyway?

Or, the one where Homelander is never born. A traumatized, socially-awkward John wanders through life trying to work out what to do with himself, and somehow becomes a member of The Boys.

Taglist: @discowizard88 Let me know if you want to be tagged!

Before there was a knock on his door, John already knew that he would have an unwanted visitor that night. He could sense it in the air. A peach-laced floral scent with woody notes. Middle-aged, definitely a female, and with a good-paying job. Most ladies around that part of town couldn’t afford such a luxurious brand of perfume. Unsure of what to expect, John opened the door slowly. He came face to face with a petite, gray-haired woman, quite unremarkable in appearance. This just made him all the more suspicious.

“Good evening,” the stranger said as if she hadn’t just shown up at his home in the middle of the woods, late at night and uninvited. “It’s Johnny, isn’t it?”

“John,” he corrected, voice sharp.

“Just John, then.” The stranger’s lips twitched subtly. “I’m Colonel Grace Mallory. I thought maybe it was time we had a talk.”

It would be quite easy, John mused, to laser this frail-looking woman into a pile of ashes and sweep her off his porch. Then again, she may not be alone. He had learned to be careful when it came to leaving witnesses behind. The last time he let his emotions get the better of him, John got thrown into a quite bothersome murder investigation and ended up taking on a new identity. Again.

At least his handlers had bestowed him with a generic enough name. One that allowed him to go unnoticed almost everywhere he went. These days he was always John, though never Vogelbaum. Not anymore.

“Colonel, you said? May I see an ID?”

“Naturally.”

Grace Mallory pulled out a laminated card that included her name and rank, as well as a picture of her. In the upper left corner was written CIA, and that gave him pause. It seemed this time it was not the local police he needed to worry about.

“Wowza, who would have thought? A tiny old thin’ like ya,” John said, letting through that subtle southern accent he’d developed for this particular persona. “So sorry, ma’am. One can never be too careful ‘round these parts, ya know? How may I help you?”

“I rather think it’s us who can help you, John,” Mallory replied, and he could tell by the twinkle in her eye that she was not fooled by his everyday-joe act. “We’ve been watching you for some time.”

“Oh,” John said, eyebrows shooting up to the top of his forehead, “that’s… not a creepy thing to say. At all.”

He silently reviewed some incidents from the past few weeks. A big, hairy guy tagging along behind him whenever he went on his morning jog. An Asian girl staring at him a bit too intently while he was fishing around for the best Avocado at the supermarket. What appeared to be a French tourist stopping to ask him for directions, as if it was just every day that a European decided to go on holiday to Des Moines, of all places.

For some time now John had been aware that he was being followed, but by whom and for what purposes was beyond him. He’d had his suspicions and was relieved to find he’d been wrong. “So, those weird folks who keep taggin’ along whenever I go downtown are all you, guys?” He asked, going for nonchalance. “Well, ain’t that something. Thought I was getting paranoid for a sec there.”

Mallory looked unapologetic. “Ah, you could tell. How embarrassing. Perhaps my agents need a bit more training.”

“Perhaps,” John replied, smiling thinly.

“You’re a very resourceful man, I have to say,” Mallory continued. “You’ve got a full set of records as John Gillman. An ID, a passport, a birth certificate, even a driver’s license. After doing a little digging, it’s quite easy to find that less than a year ago you didn’t exist, though. John Baldwin, John Harrison, and oh, John Freeman, isn’t that creative? - also sprung out of thin air.”

John’s hands flexed at his sides.

“Oh, heck, where are my manners?” he said, taking a step back to clear the doorway. "Would you like to come in? I was just about to brew some coffee!"

“Of course,” Mallory replied. Right when she was about to cross the threshold, she stopped. “Oh, I should say. The information I manage is also in the hands of all my associates. Killing me won’t help you keep your secrets under wraps. Quite the contrary, actually.”

John stared into the woman’s sharp hazel eyes. Getting rid of her would be quite easy. If he put a hand around her neck and squeezed just so, he could break her like a stick. It wouldn’t even make a mess. 

“Now, that’s just rude, ma’am,” he said, offering his most disarming smile. “I'd never raise my hand to a woman.  Especially one of your advanced age.”

Mallory’s eye twitched, but otherwise, she failed to react. She knew he was just trying to get a rise out of her. John closed the door and she followed him inside. He watched her through the corner of his eye as he poured coffee for them both. She took it black and with no sugar, which he found oddly fitting. John sipped at his cup and waited. The woman was watching him with a serenity that he found slightly unnerving.

“I’m here representing an independent group working under CIA supervision,” she said finally. “We call ourselves The Boys.”

“The Boys,” John repeated, blinking. “Uh, who came up with that?”

“I did,” Mallory shot back, unruffled. “We know who you are, John, and we are very interested in your talents.”

“My… talents?” John said, smile frozen in place. His tongue felt like it was made out of lead.

“You’re a supe, aren’t you?” There was an air of impatience around Mallory, now. As if she were getting tired of walking around the bush. “Don’t try to deny it, we’ve got a whole file on you. We know about Vought and the lab. About Compound V. We know about Jonah Vogelbaum and the others.”

There was a familiar prickling sensation at the corners of his eyes. John closed them, covering them with his hand. He took a couple of deep breaths, hoping it would go away. The air tasted like ashes and metal. It was a challenge to get the lasers under control but he did. He always did. He had a lifetime of practice.

“Fuck off.” John’s voice came out guttural and strange to even his own ears. He stared at Mallory through the cage his hand had formed. There was a curious look in her eyes. “You think you know shit ‘cause you read some file? You’ve no idea what happened in that lab. Not a goddam clue! ”

“You’re right,” Mallory conceded. “I don’t.”

John adverted his gaze, feeling his mouth twitching. “The fuck does the CIA want to do with me? If it’s a supe you’re looking for, go to Vought. They’ve got a whole fuckin' parade of 'em.”

“Would if we could.” Mallory leaned back, crossing her arms. “The government isn’t all too happy with Vought these days. They’ve gotten sloppy. There’s blood on their hands and it’s gotten to the point the bosses can no longer ignore it. The purpose of our group is to take the company down.”

“Take Vought down,” John repeated, blankly. He stared at Mallory for a long moment, then suddenly burst out laughing. “You want to take Vought down?  You?  Right, course you can. I mean, it’s just the most powerful, dangerous, and corrupt organization in the whole wide world. Easy peasy.”

“How skeptical,” Mallory said, seeming unconcerned by the mockery. “I assure you it can be done, although I can see why you wouldn’t think so. It's normal for you to be afraid of them, after what they did to you.”

It all happened in the blink of an eye. One second, John was sitting at the table, laughing at her and sipping at his cup of coffee, and the next one he had Mallory hanging by the throat, feet dangling a few good inches off the ground. She took him by the wrist, instinctively trying to pry his hand off.

“You’re real fuckin’ ballsy for a woman, you know?” John said, staring at her icily. “That file you have on me - does it say what I can do? It must. My handlers were so very diligent about documenting my progress.”

“Yes, it does,” Mallory said, and his grip tightened.

“And still you came here alone, no backup, and with that goddam holier-than-thou attitude. I can’t decide whether you're being mighty brave or just plain ol' stupid, Colonel Mallory.”

“I wouldn’t know,” Mallory choked out, “it’s a very fine line.”

Something about her answer must have pleased John, because he smiled thinly and then let go of her. Mallory stumbled awkwardly to the ground. She struggled to catch her breath, hand clutching at her throat. “Whatever makes you think I'd be interested in your itty-bitty venture?” John asked, hovering over her. Mallory raised her eyes to look up at him, defiant even then.

“Revenge,” she said, voice low and rough. “We figured you may want to take revenge. On Vought. On Vogelbaum, and Stillwell, and fucking Stan Edgar. On all those people who tortured you and experimented on you before you’d even learned how to walk. Even if you were to tell your story, you and I both know they wouldn't face any repercussions. They get to live their lives freely, as rich and powerful as they’ve ever been. Doesn’t that make you angry?”

John considered her from above, frowning.

“… it does,” he conceded. “Perhaps I just wanna forget about it, though. Perhaps I’m at a point where I no longer give a hoot ‘bout gettin’ even. Did it ever cross your mind, or anyone’s in that sweet little clique of yours, that I might just wanna be left alone?”

“I think…” Mallory said, fixing John with a hard stare. There were already red stripes forming along the skin of her throat. “… that you’ve just proven you are a man with a lot of anger inside. There’s a dark, ugly thing festering inside you, isn’t there? I don’t blame you. I would be angry too, if I were in your shoes. I’m offering you a chance to unleash that anger on the ones who deserve it.”

There was a strange, watery sensation in John’s chest – a sense of exposure he wasn’t at all used to. When he’d decided to build his new life at a cabin deep in the woods, far from people, and noise, and the hustle and bustle of the city, it was to keep this sort of thing from happening. To have people peering inside and getting a glimpse of the real him.

“You sure make a whole lotta assumptions, old hag,” John said, throat dry.

“Maybe. You haven’t killed me yet, though,” Mallory said, eerily calm. "And I know that’s not for lack of ability. I think I managed to catch your attention.”

“And if you had? What then?” John asked, his every word slow and precise. He noticed how Mallory’s expression relaxed ever so slightly.

“I’d ask you to come with me to talk a few things over.”

Ah, I see what you are playing at, John thought bitterly. He felt his lips pulling backward and struggled very hard to suppress his grimace. You really think I’d let you box me up that easily?

“No, thanks. Ah’m not interested,” John said, smiling brightly at his visitor. Mallory’s disappointed look, however brief, was slightly satisfying. He turned around and started picking up the dirty dishware from the table. “Well, it’s gotten real late. You just go and mosey outta here, would ya?”

“Well,” Mallory said, standing up. “It was worth a try.”

She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small card. “You can reach me through this number if you change your mind.”

Then she turned around, heading towards the door. John stared at her retreating figure. Just before walking out, Mallory paused. “I’m sorry if I brought back unpleasant memories,” she said without turning to look at him, “have a good night.” She stepped out onto the porch and closed the door behind her. 

John waited, perfectly still, but she did not reappear. After a few moments, he bent down and picked up the card she left behind. Agent Grace Mallory, it read - Colonel, CIA, Special Operations, and a number. He considered throwing it away but decided against it just as he was about to drop it into the bin. Instead, John put it in a small wooden box he kept in the living room. Hours after her departure, the flowery scent of Grace Mallory’s perfume persisted in his home.

[confessionbrain-writings]

Southern Sass 2 - Benny Cross

Pairing: Benny Cross x OFC!Reader A/N: Thanks for the love for part 1. I suggest you read it before continuing this. I've never created something like this before, but I find myself enjoying this a lot, so who knows what'll happens next. I love to connect with you, the reader, so please don't be shy and say 'hi' and tell me what you think.🧡

*Ring… ring… ring…*

*Click*

“Yeah?”

You couldn’t stop the grin forming on your face as Benny’s voice came through the line.

“Benny, we’ve got to stop meeting like this.”

“Francesca? Missin’ me already?”

“Like a stone in my shoe.”

“Ouch… y’wound me.”

“Yeah… I bet. I reckon you can guess why I’m calling?”

“‘Cause y’love hearin’ m’voice?”

“Not even close.”

“Shame.”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah… Well Johnny’s not ‘ere.”

“Of course, what’s new…”

You sighed deeply.

“So, Benny…”

“Franki?”

A smile tugged at your lips at hearing him use your nickname.

“Tell me something.”

“What y’wanna hear?”

“Anything. What about your day?”

“Alright. I had myself a little adventure today.”

“Yeah? Do tell.”

“So, I went out on my bike y’know. Revin’ up and takin’ a corner a bit too fast, hit some autumn leaves and next thing I know I was sliding ‘cross the asphalt for a good stretch.”

“Oh no! Is your bike okay?”

It was quiet for a few seconds before Benny answered, feigned hurt dripping from his voice.

“Y’care more about my bike than me?”

“Oh, I know how it is with you bikers. Caring more about their metal steeds than themselves. Or are you telling me I’m wrong?”

“Yeah… y’got me there, Franki. Luckily she only has some scratches, she’ll be fine. But, now y’mention it, my shoulder does hurt a little…”

“Maybe you should see a doctor then.”

“Or maybe I just need a bit of lovin’.

You snorted and rolled your eyes.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, Benny. Ain’t a chance.”

“Ouch… y’re breakin’ ma heart here, Franki.”

“Oh please, don’t be ridiculous, you don’t have one.”

“Is that what ya think?”

“No. It’s what I know about you bikers.”

“Mmm. Let me prove y’otherwise.”

“How?”

Benny took a deep breath, his voice dropping to a playful, almost mischievous tone.

“How? Well, how ‘bout this— I pick you up on my metal steed, which I’m pretty sure y’gonna love right-away,  and we take y’out on the open road to ride underneath the bright stars. Have y’ever been out of the city to see ‘em? They’re even more beautiful ‘cause y’can see ‘em so much clearer. And best of all, I’ll let y’hold on tight, y’know, so y’can feel just how big of a heart I have. And then—.”

“Then what?”

“Guess y’only gonna find out when y’accept my invitation.”

“Nice try, Benny.”

“Give a man a chance.”

“You just told me you had an accident, so I’m not sure that’d be such a brilliant idea.”

“Don’t worry, Franki. I’ll be gentle with you.”

“We’ll see about that. Anyway, just be careful, alright?”

“Only if you promise to keep callin’ me.”

You huffed.

“Alright.”

“Alright.”

“Was a pleasure as always Benny, take care.”

“Oh, so you do like me then? Here I was starting to think y’were playing hard to get.”

“Bye, Benny.”

*Tuut tuut tuut*

[mythicalcowboyatheart]

SAVAGES

Warnings: smut that it basically

An: @alleennnnn the war is over I finally wrote a Johnny fic! Smut below the cut!

    »»———-►»»———-►»»———-►»»———-►

You were relevantly new to the small Texan town of Newt, you lived all alone in a small house the only other house closest was a farmhouse near the old slaughter house. All you knew about said farmhouse is your boss Drayton lives there with his family. Working at the gas station wasn't all that bad, not a lot of people came by, and if people did come by they usually were lost and or had car problems. Drayton was always so happy to help those folk, he would usualy have his nephew Johnny drive them somewhere you weren't quite sure ware they went but they never came back, and usually there would also be a fresh pot of chili to serve at the small gas station.

Johnny always peaked your interest for some reason, maybe it was his pretty face or maybe it was the way just his signature smirk could get you to blush.

Today at the store you noticed the lack of Drayton, you called out for him no answer, until you heard a deep southern voice come from the brake room. "He aint here, old man came down with a cold so I'm filling in for him." "Oh is he okay?" "He'll be fine," Johnny chuckled as he moved to the counter up front "he ain't that old yet." He chuckled again. You laugh "I know that but just checking to see if he was okay, anyway he say what he wants us to do today?" "Nah, jus wanted me to make sure you don't burn the place down." He smirks, "ha ha very funny!" You roll your eyes "well until a customer comes in imma go through some magazines." You say taking a seat in  the chair behind the counter. "Well while you do that imma go work on my truck" Johnny says walking out the front door.

Time skip broght to you by Johnnys assˏˋ°•*⁀➷

It had been bout an hour or two since Johnny and you had split off to do your own things. You had read through your magazine about ten times already. You let out a sigh as you got up from your seat and peaked out the window to see what Johnny was doing. You saw Johnny shirtless leaning over the front of his truck messing with something under the hood. You stare for maybe a moment too long as you notice Johnny starring back at you through the store window. You freeze knowing you've been caught checking him out. Johnny smirks putting the hood of the truck back down and taking his gloves walking back towards the gas station never once brakeing eye contact. 'oh fuck' you thought moving quickly back to your original spot. It didn't take Johnny long to get back to the station, when he re entered you looked at you. He come to the front of the counter and leaned against it starring straight at you the entire time. "Was you just checking me out doll?" You swallow the lump in your throat. "No I wasn't" Johnny's smirk some how gets bigger. "Well darlin I think the Texas heat is finally getting to ya cuz I know you was starring." Johnny let's out a chuckle. You look at the ground knowing you'd been caught. "There isn't no harm in starring doll." Johnny now says standing behind the counter now a foot away from you. "I like it when you stare." Johnny says leaning closer and whispering in your ear "how bout you show me what your pretty little mouth can do." You look up at him and see his face looks completely serious. "Come on doll we ain't got all day."

 Johnny says starting to unbuckle his belt and unbuttoning his jeans. You get the hint and kneel in front of him. He pulls his boxers down just enough to pull his already hard cock out. You look up at him again and he gives you a nod. You take him in your hand first pumping him afew times before teasing his tip with your tongue swirling it around his red head. You hear Johnny let out a groan as you take him deeper in your mouth, when you have all of his cock in your mouth you begin moving your head up and down. "Fuck" he groans grabbing a fist full of your hair pulling your mouth further on his cock causing you to gag. He pulls you back and pulling you back towrd him the more you gag the faster he fucks your face. You have tears and spit running down your face by the time he cums and when he does cum he moans out your name as he  just adds to the fluids running down on your face. "Jesus darling look at you! Who knew you were such a cock slut?" Johnny laughs re doing his pants and exiting the store once again leaveing you on the floor covered in spit,tears, sweat and now Johnny's spend... And god did you love it!

[newlacesleeves]

block party, ice cream, flower crowns

The first Saturday in June, West Valley High throws a Kick Off to Summer event in the school parking lot. Streamers of orange, pink, and green are hanging from lamp posts and vendor tents with everything from artisans selling homemade crafts to street food and local restaurants to homegrown lawn care businesses desperately passing out flyers for maintenance in the middle of a southern California drought.

Johnny remembers the year he volunteered with Ali to set it up. He had thought the whole thing was lame (who wants to go to school in the summer?) but he went along anyway. For Ali. And maybe he enjoyed it, pinning up the banner Ali and Susan had worked on to the backside of the bleachers, walking hand-in-hand with Ali as they checked out every booth in the line, sipping on Cokes and sharing too-sweet, sticky pieces of cotton candy.

The kids want to go this year. Even Anthony, who's been more and more amenable to leaving the house without a screen glued to his hand. Miguel, Sam, and Robby turn to look at Johnny with teenaged pouts in their prodding pleas but all it really takes is Daniel saying, "Come on, it'll be nice" for Johnny to relent with slumped shoulders and a heavy, drawn out sigh.

The place is packed this year. Every family in the Valley turned out in attendance. The outside air smells like barbecue and the sweet sizzle of summer that makes the power lines buzz like Johnny's skin.

There's a makeshift carnival complete with a ferris wheel that the kids bee-line to the moment it comes into view, leaving Johnny and Daniel alone to stroll through the streets tethered only to each other.

They pass by each booth and Daniel is annoyingly insistent about looking into each one. He leaves with flyers and business cards shoved into his jeans pockets that Johnny knows he'll never look at again. They should have put up a booth this year, Johnny thinks. Not that they need any new students now that Cobra Kai is gone but still, couldn't hurt.

A young woman with a nervous smile is parked out front of a booth containing handmade jewelry: beads and rings and little trinkets like that. On the table in the corner are tightly bound flower crowns, some small little daisy chains, some fuller stuffed with baby's breath and pops of colorful florals that Johnny finds himself staring at, too careful of breaking them to touch them. They remind him of his mom, how she would find a wildflower on a walk through the neighborhood and tuck it behind her ear to wear until the petals wilted.

Daniel comes up behind him, flush against Johnny's back, hooking his chin over Johnny's shoulder to sneak a peek at what's caught his attention. He picks up a crown, one made of daisies and tied together with a white ribbon that cascades down the back, and places it gingerly atop Johnny's blonde head.

"Knock it off, LaRusso," Johnny grumbles. His hands fly to remove it but Daniel catches him by the wrist mid-air. He grabs another one off the table, blue florals and baby's breath, and puts it on his own head and Johnny's breath catches in the softness of it all. Under the shade of the white tent, just the two of them hidden in a corner, trading florals.

Daniel pays for the crowns and Johnny's beet red when he walks back into the sun but he doesn't take it off. Not when Daniel keeps looking at him like that. Soft brown eyes, sneaking glances like kids sneak candy.

Kids line up in front of an ice cream vendor and Daniel tugs like a kid himself onto Johnny's sleeve to secure their place in line. Johnny's not a big sweets kind of guy (not with the body he's worked hard to maintain over the years). Would rather indulge in a beer and a few good cheeseburgers and fries.

Daniel orders one large vanilla ice cream ("Seriously? Vanilla?" "It's the most popular ice cream flavor for a reason, John.") with two spoons. They find a spot under the bleachers to take refuge beneath the shade, Daniel taking greedy spoonfuls of ice cream with each step.

Johnny wants to reach out and grasp, thread their fingers together palm to palm and squeeze tightly and maybe never let go. But there are too many people and Johnny just shoves his hands into his pockets lest they find their own bravery in the light of day.

Under the bleachers, Daniel offers Johnny his spoon. Most of the ice cream has softened or melted into a soup but Johnny digs in and takes a bite, mouth filled with the creamy sweetness and when was the last time he even had ice cream on a summer day? He can't remember and he takes another bite before he's even swallowed the first one.

Daniel's looking at him, same soft eyes, but something warmer and brighter behind them. Not the same heat he reserves for the dark corners of the dojo, when they're sweating and panting but both still begging for more. Something more subdued but no less yearning. It sparks a fire in Johnny's gut and he drops his spoon into the paper cup in order to grab Daniel by the chin and bring their lips together.

His mouth is cold and the vanilla on his tongue makes him sweeter. Daniel opens easily, surprised at the quickness of the kiss for only a moment before falling into it head first the way he does everything else.