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#johnny
one-time-i-dreamt · 3 days
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Johnny from “The Devil Went Down to Georgia” is married to Sully from “The Devil Came Up to Boston,” they have three kids.
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yawnderu · 2 days
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ghostgazsoap competitive eaters 🗣️🗣️🗣️‼️‼️ they’re all trying to get a taste of you for themselves and not letting the others even try to get a handful 🤔 just messy and shameless ‼️
So desperate and needy, spreading your legs as wide as they can without hurting you just to try to eat you out at the same time, broad shoulders and big arms with bulging muscles preventing them from getting it :((
Sometimes they're lucky enough to get to your sweet cunt, their saliva mixing in with your juices, making an absolute mess out of you, yet they're just so desperate to taste you that they simply can't take turns. Bunch of animals acting like they're starving :((
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Johnny needs to find the biggest chair cuz this bish is huge and will crash every small one 🪑
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butterrose07 · 3 days
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Simon Says (Simon Riley x Reader)
Warnings: 18+ readers only, sexual themes, foul language, male dominance themes, gender differences
Johnny can't help but to wonder how Simon has an obedient wife like you. Because deep down inside, he wants it, too. If only he is willing to learn the very same lessons Simon learned from Price.
oOo
"How?"
Simon doesn't react to his question. The rose-patterned teacup looks comically small in his hands as he takes a sip of his tea, and Johnny can't help but to lean forward. Above the tiers of cake and other goodies piled high on the table, the smoke from his friend's cigar blended into the oak decor of the room. It wasn't much of a question as much as it was an expression of incredulity.
Simon doesn't need to know what Johnny asks. Because he was there before years ago, his very own stare being consumed by Price's. His friend. His mentor. A man who had a position relative to his woman that he knew deep within his gut that he craved.
Stewing against all he knew and was taught about man and woman.
He was there years ago, and he knew Johnny would be him years after.
If he accepted what he taught, that is.
He shifted in his seat. "What's the difference between a man and a woman, Johnny, besides the cunt and cock?"
Immediately, Johnny snaps his head to the left, to the closed glass doors of the study to where you are in the front dining room, nestled against the windows knitting strawberry hats for your babies. Twins. Due in three months time, and you're ecstatic enough to decorate the pink dollhouse Simon built for you as a project. Simon knows Johnny is making sure you didn't overhear his crass question, ever the gentleman, no matter how rough he was around the edges. The discomfort he sees in his eyes mirrored his own years ago sitting in front of Price's desk, in front of a sated man who told his pretty little wife to fetch them her homemade bon-bons and show them off. He couldn't forget the pep in her step and the rustle of her dress out the door to the kitchen in her fluffy pink slippers. After all, he was hit with the same questions, the same lesson that he was bestowing upon Johnny now. It was hard to forget his own nervous swallow when she came back to proudly show off her chocolates, ever so oblivious of the chauvinistic language.
Johnny awkwardly rubbed at his neck. "Hey, man, pretty sure she can hear us through those glass doors."
Typical response.
"And, uh, there shouldn't be a difference." God, he was so naive. "We are all the same."
And that's why Johnny didn't have what he had, yet. And that's why he asked the how and not the why. He didn't get it, and he wouldn't get it until he understood that there was a difference.
A big difference.
A difference that should've been obvious enough to override the indoctrination genteel society fed to children. And people wondered why they were so confused, so discontent, their soul hanging limp inside their bodies, stripped of worth. Until he ripped the blindfolds off his eyes and understood the core essence of what it was to be a man, he wouldn't get the woman he dreamed about. Or if he even knew that was what he wanted, because Simon could tell that's what he wanted. He could tell Johnny wanted a doe-eyed wife who would rub at his chest after a long day of work. She would wear soft tea dresses and coo at their newborn in a bassinet Johnny would build using his own hands. She would have flowers in her hair and smell of fresh bread and honey. He knew Johnny would retire in a heartbeat and whisk her away to a quaint village to live in by the sea.
He knew all of it because he wanted those things himself. He knew it because he had it all.
The house. The life. And his little adoring wife who made all the tea cakes herself that they were indulging in.
"What?" Johnny had much to learn. "Why are you looking at me like that?" So much to learn, so much to shed of the indoctrination. "A-Am I wrong?"
And Simon would teach him, if not light the matches in his mind. He knew Johnny would resist, at first. Ever so the merry chap, all for being a "good guy", a friend, a champion for classic equality peppered with old-time chivalry. But he knew deep down that it wasn't working. It wasn't garnering a woman who would fulfill his primal role as a true man, a man who felt profound joy at being a giver, a protector, a provider. He knew deep down his friend wanted an adoring wife anxiously waiting for him back home, watching out the window for his return so that his arms could lift her up for a loving kiss. He knew he wanted what he had.
He knew, just like how Price knew.
"Johnny, my boy, come take a seat."
And Johnny would know, too.
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meowmk · 3 days
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nct crack tweets part 2 here u go enjoy ily
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letter-since · 19 hours
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kitsune23star · 2 days
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WE'RE EATING *delusional*
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nctsworld · 15 hours
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NCT ZONE // AFTER SCHOOL
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greenswing · 2 days
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Love is real guys
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mrsparrasblog · 6 hours
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I wont pay for your therapy after this🥲
Mrs. MacTavish
Scotland—Johnny's birthplace and the place where he would be laid down permanently. The three men closest to him, the men who saw him die, stood together with his ashes in their hands. It felt surreal for them; of course, they knew something like this could happen. They had all lost a great deal of friends, but this was different. This task force should have been invincible, they should have been better—too good to be killed. But here they were, only three of them.
"Who dares wins. Sleep easy, soldier."
"See you down range, brother. We take it from here."
"Rest in peace, Johnny."
The men spread his ashes; he was finally where he felt at home, at least that's what his friends, his brothers in duty, thought.
They sat together in a rundown pub, unsure how to grieve or how to throw a worthy wake. Price said he didn't have any family left, so they were all he had, and they still failed him.
An order of his favorite whiskey stood on the table they usually occupied.
"He'd love that, he loved this place," Gaz said, trying to reassure his brothers. He now needed to be the glue of the group, the job Soap had before.
"One time, he hit an officer when he was still a rookie. The officer touched a female civilian, and Soap knocked him out. He almost got kicked out of the military, but he didn't press charges—too embarrassing," Price said, earning a slight chuckle from Gaz. Ghost stayed still; he was frozen since the death of his best friend.
"He almost beat my record at the SAS. Made me proud when I saw him in the recruitment," Gaz told them.
"He was the best," Ghost said. His voice sounded monotone; if he didn't have this thick British accent, he would have sounded like a robot.
"He tried to enlist in the SAS several times at 16, lying about his age each time," Price chuckled at the thought of his best trainee.
"He was more than his accomplishments." The other two men looked confused at Ghost; they weren't as close, he knew him better than them.
"Of course, he was, son."
"He had a journal, always drawing each of us, calling us his family. But now, he is dead. We failed him," Ghost said, bringing Gaz and Price down from their attempts to cheer him up and to appreciate Soap's life accomplishments. But he was dead, and nothing would ever change that.
After a while of drinking without speaking a word, Laswell came in, looking at the group of guys sitting down next to them. "Holding a wake for him?" she asked, nipping at the shared whiskey.
"Spread his ashes," Ghost replied shortly.
"You did what?" Her voice was loud; they could see the look of panic on her face.
"What's wrong, Kate? He would love resting in the Highlands."
"Please tell me, John, you didn't spread the whole ash."
"Kate, what's wrong?" Price asked, and she only sighed.
"I'm torn between granting the wishes of a deceased person and betraying his wishes at the same time," Laswell said. The inner conflict was visible in the wrinkles around her eyes.
"Laswell, spit it out!" Ghost shouted at her, the normally calm soldier completely losing control of his emotions.
"His last wish was that someone specific get his body in case of his early demise."
"Bullshit, he had no family left," Gaz replied, confused. His brother wouldn't lie to him about his family.
"Who is this person?" Ghost asked, his expression full of hurt. He wasn't mad like Kyle about the possibility that Johnny lied to them; Johnny was always smarter than the rest of them. He couldn't entertain the possibility that one of his brothers or whoever this person was would die because of his enemies.
"Mrs. MacTavish," Kate muttered under her breath. She promised him before joining the task force that she wouldn't, under any circumstances, tell anyone about her.
"Like his mother?" Kyle asked, and Kate only shook her head.
"He was married?"
"For ten years," Kate sighed.
"I will personally tell her and apologize," Price said. He knew this was the least he could do for him.
"I will tell her," Ghost thought. He needed to do this for his best friend, especially making sure that whoever she was, she would never be found by Makarov and could live a safe civilian life.
"Count me in, Captain," Gaz said, determined to apologize to Soap's wife. Maybe if he had been better, faster, Makarov wouldn't have gotten Soap.
These three men were as different as they could have been; the only thing about them that all of them shared was the guilt.
A few days later
The last days were harder than usual for you; the pregnancy took a toll on you. The worst part was not hearing anything from your beloved Johnny for a long time. You were used to not hearing from him; you knew what you were getting into when you decided to marry him. But you never even thought about making him retire. You loved him since high school. How couldn't you? He was a charmer. He had been in love with you since you both were 6, starting elementary school.
He asked you at least every week if you wanted to marry him when you grew older. You always declined his advances. You were sure that you even hit him once for staring too long at you. He looked like an arrogant ass who could have anyone he wanted, but somehow, he never, not even for a second in his life, thought about another woman. So after some years, you decided to give him a chance, and you never regretted this decision once in your life.
The bell rang, and you were sure it must have been one of the neighbors asking if they could have milk or eggs from the farm. But before you could gather your pregnant body up, your six-year-old son ran up, opening the door. "Maybe it's Dad, Mommy!"
"James William MacTavish, how often did I tell you not to open the door?"
Your son was a spitting image of your Johnny. It got worse when he decided that he needed to cut himself a mohawk to look like his dad. You were so happy to see Johnny's reaction to the mohawk when he came back.
At the door stood three muscular, tall guys looking down at the little boy. As Kyle saw the spitting image of Johnny, he walked to the nearest trash can and threw up. It was too much for him. The thought of a wife was bad enough, but a son too.
You walked down and gathered your son who hugged your thigh. You looked at the men; one of them was a bit older with a funny beard, and the other one was blonde with a scared face.
When Price saw the visible baby bump, his heart broke. The thought of you not only having a son but also being pregnant gave him the rest; his guilt was eating him out.
"Mrs. MacTavish?"
"Yes?" you asked in confusion. They didn't seem like the villagers who wanted to buy something from the farm, nor the parents of your students.
"We need to talk about your husband."
"No," you knew what this meant; you knew it in your gut.
"I'm sorry, Mrs. MacTavish, but your husband died while protecting his country."
You always thought these films were dramatic, but it was nothing compared to what you felt right now. The pain was indescribable; you felt like someone pulled your ground from you, and you fell, completely in shock. Your tears slowly started to roll down, and you saw how the older man held the blonde one back from reaching out to you.
"No, my Johnny, he said he would always come back. He will come back, he will come back to us, he always will," you sobbed uncontrollably.
"I'm sorry, Ma'am."
From behind, Aiofe and Maeve ran down, our oldest, the twins. "Mom, are you okay?" All your three children sat down next to you, afraid that something happened to their mom.
That was the final straw as Ghost saw even more children, his best friend left behind a wife, three children, and a little one on the way. It should have been him.
You sobbed as you spoke to your children, "It's okay, Simon is just kicking hard in my belly, nothing is wrong with Mommy. I love you."
"We love you too, Mommy."
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tomhardymyking · 2 days
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I can't wait to see him in the street in posters for his new films (𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑩𝒊𝒌𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒔, 𝑯𝒂𝒗𝒐𝒄 (🤞🏻), 𝑽𝒆𝒏𝒐𝒎: 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑳𝒂𝒔𝒕 𝑫𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒆), also in shops for photos that there are of the 𝗝𝗼 𝗠𝗮𝗹𝗼𝗻𝗲's fragrance ad...
I can't wait 💓💖
⠀⠀⠀⠀
No puedo esperar para verlo por la calle en carteles por sus nuevas películas (𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑩𝒊𝒌𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒔, 𝑯𝒂𝒗𝒐𝒄 (🤞🏻), 𝑽𝒆𝒏𝒐𝒎: 𝑬𝒍 𝑼𝒍𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒐 𝑩𝒂𝒊𝒍𝒆), también en las tiendas por fotos que haya por el anuncio de la fragancia de 𝗝𝗼 𝗠𝗮𝗹𝗼𝗻𝗲...
Qué ganas 💓💖
⠀⠀
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yawnderu · 2 days
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My pussy would love to sit on soap's face😔
Sitting on Johnny's face, pulling at the long hair of his mohawk, not a single protest coming out of his lips because he's simply too busy and drunk off your taste, his tongue working wonders over your wet cunt, even rubbing up and down to feel the light stubble against your inner thighs while he eats you out like a man starved.
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neocatharsis · 14 hours
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NCT 127 'LIMITLESS' Comics Limited Edition Covers
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closets-closet · 3 days
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Because I can’t get enough of Mr. McTavish I have this Idea that this man definitely has sex to Hozier OR Lana Del Ray.. Now I could be making this man a lot softer then he actually is.. But i’m saying the speed at which my clothing would disappear if he started playing Hozier.
I would set a world record 🫡
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celticcatgirl2 · 13 days
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“Bro….when he said “x marks the spot for the treasure” he meant he treasured us…in his heart….”
“Bro….”
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