#serenade Eric

[sanaxo-o]

Here just to tell. I am done writing serenade (hopefully I don’t add more. I mean I could..) it’s at 4,004 words yes. My second longest fic after that Sunwoo one and very proud of it (for now. I don’t think I will remain proud of this for much longer because I tend to overthink a lot) but then it won’t get published for a while because two posts are already scheduled for next week and the one after that…

#Eric #the boyz #tbz #the boyz imagines #eric the boyz #eric Sohn #eric fluff #the boyz eric #TBZ Eric #serenade Eric

[littleroaes]

Sunric in serenade be like:

For @heemingyu

#serenade Eric

[buttfrovski]

everytime cartmans been in a relationship ship hes been disgustingly PDA

#it's kinda sweet i hope he dies #south park #eric cartman #yentl cartman #heidi turner #bonus when he pretended he was dating kyle and serenaded him at a basketball game all to get tolkien and nicole together #he's such an interesting little critter #stan marsh could NEVERRRRR

[ramshacklefey]

Every queer ship playlist should include:

an early 2000's rock ballad

a classic emo song

a breakup song

a song about being saved

an excessively cheery bop

a Hozier song

and the song that started it all

(Put yours in the tags)

#endhawks #Like the Angel (Rise Against) #Eric's Song (Vienna Teng) #A Twist in My Story (Secondhand Serenade) #Better Sorry Than Safe (Halestorm) #Jacob and Rachel (The Shondes) #Would You Be So Kind? (Dodie) #Sunlight (Hozier) #Bulletproof Heart (MCR)

[frootyrooties]

HE HIM HIMMEST he’s just. oh he’s just so so lovely 🥰 my bb boy mwah mwah mwah 😘💋

#Eric pwetty please serenade me to sleep 💖 #it’s him. the man of my dreams 🥰😍 #the only man ever 💘 #01.20.23 💙

[delopsia]

Springsteen | Rhett Abbott x Reader

Word Count: 5,100 Cross Posted on AO3 Warnings & Notes: 18+, AFAB!Reader, (Note the Reader does wear a dress!) unprotected sex, dancing, sex against the hood of Rhett's truck, mentions of Rich!Reader, wearing Rhett's jacket <3. This is best enjoyed with a listen of Springsteen by Eric Church, but you're welcome to imagine any song you'd want. Brief Summary: Dancing to the radio with Rhett gets heated a little bit too easily.

"Go, go, go!" 

"I'm going, I'm going!" You squeal, damn near jumping off that last stair. Water splattering beneath your feet as you tear through the gravel driveway. Led along by the hand that's caught your wrist in an iron grip. 

Wind catches beneath the ends of your dress, blowing it up past your knees as you run. The kind of brazing breeze that sends you knocking into Rhett's much warmer side, clumsily clinging to his side. Limbs painfully knock together, shoulders and elbows not coordinated enough for such a thing, but he's getting his arm around you and cinching your body into his, and it's almost enough to ward off the bite of late autumn. 

"Told ya t' get a jacket!" Rhett sputters, but he hasn't a problem with having you this close. Even if that does mean your ankles are hopelessly tangling. Can't slow down out of fear of that front door opening and the sound of your name serenading through the air as you're summoned back inside, but can't speed up because someone is bound to trip. 

"You said the wind wasn't that bad!" Your retort is rewarded with a patch of loose gravel sliding out from beneath you, nearly sends you careening into the ground as you turn. 

"Yeah, if you got somethin' more than a dress on!" It's the singular, distant barn light that lets you catch a glimpse of his grin, couples so wonderfully with his wild blue eyes, untamed and free, like that of the herd of mustangs who roam the outskirts of town. 

For a moment, time stops. 

It's just you and Rhett in this big, cold world. Seconds away from disappearing from the sights of anyone who may be peeking out the house windows. Hidden in a dimly lit room, just the two of you, for as long as you want. 

Until his shoulder clips his truck mirror. 

"Shit—!" He's already biting into the side of his meaty palm, gaze darting toward the house, where a hundred ears could have heard him. 

But you doubt anyone would come out here, even if they did hear him. 

Slipping out from his side is the worst thing you could ever do because the chilly air nips at your skin, even in the safety of the barn, but being cold will have to wait. Too busy looking over to see if he's broken his mirror or, worse, cut himself open.

"'m alright," somehow, you already knew he was going to say that.

And now here you are, shivering in front of his broad frame, struggling for words. Of course, he's alright; a man who works on a cattle ranch has worse injuries than a shoulder bumped into a truck mirror. Falling off his horse, cattle trying to run him over, bull horns getting jabbed into soft flesh.

His deep chuckle dances through the air. Effectively snatching and running away with every single one of your thoughts. "You're cute when you're worried 'bout me,"  his hand rises to push his hat further up on his head. Makes it a little easier for him to lean in, bumping your noses together, "Y' know that?" 

It's a little bit too easy to reach up, smoothing your hand up his body, feeling the gentle swell of his broad chest and the solid ridges of his collarbones, all on your way to curl your fingers around the back of his neck. You hardly have to pull him in. The slightest pressure, and he's stepping forward to close the gap. 

Rough stubble scratches your chin as his lips meet with yours. Chapped and bitten to the brink of bleeding, but just as familiar as three nights ago. Slower than the last time, no longer fueled by the crippling frenzy of desperation to feel each other and excitement over finding a stolen moment. No rush as Rhett's arms curl around your waist, drawing you in until your chests bump together. 

"Y' weren't kiddin' 'bout bein' cold, were you," he observes aloud, voice rumbling against your lips. Big hands smooth up and down the back of your dress, like he's trying to create a semblance of heat there.

Delicate, he pulls you in. Closer this time. Where your arms can coil around his shoulders, and your frigid nose fits into the scruffy underside of his jaw. For a man who's always complaining about being cold, he sure is warm. The chest against yours feels warmer than the fireplace you were idling in front of earlier, entertaining small talk with some boy in a gaudy blazer that he spent far too much on. 

His head tilts, nose bumping into your temple as he nuzzles into you, "'s this better?"

"I hope you plan on gluing yourself to me, cowboy," because you're not letting him go until spring comes back around. 

Or at least, not until the frost melts from the joints of your fingers and the tip of your nose doesn't feel so numb. 

"Wouldn't mind that," he's pausing to press a kiss to your forehead, then another, can never seem to get enough, "not sure if you'd like bein' out at dawn, chasin' cows through rain n' snow though."

"Who said I'd give you back to your folks?" You can't see it, but you can feel his eyes roll. Both of you know that Royal will come kicking the door in if his youngest isn't at work bright and early, busting his ass for a job that pays less than minimum wage because he's family, but it's fun to imagine. 

Just one week alone, in a cozy home, cuddling through movies and bickering as you try to put a dinner together, uninterrupted by the responsibilities of life. It's all you ask for. 

Rhett's shoulders shift as he shrugs out of his coat. Unveiling that slightly-too-tight flannel that shrunk in the washer a few Sundays ago, sleeves clinging to the curve of his biceps like they're being paid to do it. Such a fascinating sight that you hardly notice the sudden warmth wrapping around you. 

"But now you're gonna be cold," your protest is weak, thwarted by the flutter of butterflies in your belly. His coat is so warm, fitting around your shoulders just right, and freshly scented with his favorite cologne—the woodsy one with the scent of autumn crammed into a bottle. 

"'s alright," it may be dim in this barn, but it's so easy to catch the way his cheeks have flushed pink, a little too eager to see you in his jacket. "I got somethin' that'll warm us up."

Before you can even begin to ask what that could be, he's stepping off toward his truck. Hinges squeal as he opens the driver-side door, one of its many, many signs of age. It's a miracle the old thing even runs, considering its rough life as a ranch truck. Still clinging to its last bits of life, too stubborn to go just yet.

"I found this at a yard sale the other day," Rhett grunts, lifting something gray out of the passenger seat. Square, with a big antenna that reminds you of...

"How is a radio gonna keep us warm?" Your head tilts to the side, since when did he own a radio, anyway? 

"You'll see." There's a long, dangling cord that Rhett's coiling in his free hand as he hauls it over to the outlet. The one on the workbench you've been using as home to your laptop as of late, where the Wi-Fi connection is the weakest. A small price to pay to watch movies together without needing to worry about sneaking into each other's homes. 

"Only downside is, the damn thing ate my Eric Church CD," the end of his sentence disrupted by his own laughter, "'s what I get for buyin' yard sale radios." 

As he says that, the radio flickers to life, the coarse sound of static rumbling through the air as he fumbles with the buttons. A little unfamiliar with the layout of this old machine, dented and splattered in hot pink paint. 

Music erupts from the speakers. Looping through the same three seconds of a lyric that you can't quite hear. Then dies into silence just as quickly. A familiar song wavers through the air, growing louder as Rhett messes with the dial. 

You still don't get what he's on about. "Springsteen?" How is an Eric Church song going to warm you two up? Catch fire? 

The track loops, the intro catching on a new scratch in the CD. You've heard him play this CD enough times to know it's never skipped in this song until now. 

But then Rhett's holding his hand out, grin so wide that his eyes curl with it, "c'mon," he breathes, his voice light as an autumn leaf, "dance with me."

You know better than anyone that Rhett Abbott cannot dance. Yet, you're slipping your palm into his, letting him sweep you into a lazy spin that flares out the ends of your dress. Your silhouette picture perfect on the barn floor as the song finally starts to play.

"This is your idea of warming up, huh?" You giggle, accidentally stepping nose to nose with each other, then stepping a bit too far apart. Eager to be close but afraid to step on each other's toes. Carefully turning and moving with no real rhythm, just doing whatever feels right in that given second. 

"Remembered that video y' sent me, 'bout that couple dancin' n' all," funny, how he remembers that because you can hardly recall when you sent it to him. What other ideas has he been storing up in that pretty head of his? "Couldn't figure out how t' get a beach in a barn."

Now you're finding your pacing, something slow that lets him nudge your foreheads together. Your arms wrap around his broad shoulders like they belong there. The ruggedness of his jacket an uncanny contrast against the soft, delicate material of your dress. A mashing of two styles that would send many of your visitors into a tizzy. But God, it's so warm. Like a  second Rhett, curled around your body to keep you safe from the nip of the wind. 

It's no romantic sunset dance on a white sand beach, but it's better than it has any right to be. Because your bodies bump together with all the clumsiness of two people who don't know what they're doing, and you're starting to drift across the barn, but it's you, and it's him, and it's so...

Enchanting. Perfect. A daydream that has slipped from your head and into the thin blanket of reality. The kind of scene that can be shoved into a snow globe and sold to every tourist who wanders into Wabang.

"Thinkin 'bout somethin'?" He asks, but those eyes suggest he can hear the gears turning in your head, just might be able to read all the wandering thoughts floating past.

"Wondering what they'd say if someone walked in on us, right now," the wayward wondering slips right past your lips, unable to be held back. 

Humming, Rhett's head tilts, "s'pose someone would faint," he says, with all the confidence of a man who has seen it happen before, "can't have the big, bad cowboy muddyin' up the prettiest thing in town, now can they?"

"Something tells me you'd enjoy that," you can already see it, the devilish grin as everyone at the party realizes that you're taken after all. Heart stolen by the bull rider they see every Sunday at the rodeo. 

"If it means showin' everyone who ya belong to, then—" spurs clank together. One moment, he's there. The next he's gone. Hat bouncing off his head as his ass meets the concrete barn floor. Mere inches away from the start of the gravel driveway.

Big blue eyes blink up at you. Cheeks flushing with crimson as he braces his palms on the ground behind him, leaning back like he meant to do that all along. 

"I'm sorry, what was that?" Struggling to speak around your grin, you bend to pick up his hat by the crown. 

Rhett's silent. Mouth agape as he continues to blink at you, gaze akin to that of a baby deer. And maybe he would be able to talk if you weren't setting his hat atop your head. Have to be careful, it's so big that it'll fall over your eyes if you move too quickly. 

But it stays in place, even as you kneel, settling into his open lap. Knees straddling his hips, nose to nose once more. "Showing everyone who I belong to, hm?" 

This. This is what you've been missing. The awkward wobble of Rhett's bottom lip as he struggles for words. Overtaken by the sight of you in his clothes, the soft fingers caressing his jaw, and the hand delving into his messy hair. So confident until he's not.

"Uhuh," he breathes, dumbly. 

You don't know who moves first. If it's you who dives down or if it's him surging up, but your lips are meeting, and that stupid Eric Church CD is beginning to skip around again. The glitchy repetition of the song an illustration of the way your brain shorts out, set off by the arms circling around you. 

Kissing him before was soft, delicate. This one...this kiss is something warmer. A lick of a flame that you recognize all too well, the kind that promises more to come. His hands roaming beneath his jacket and up your back, the scruff of his jaw tickling your chin. Maybe it's the cold that makes you cling to him, maybe it's the way your head is starting to spin, you cant say for sure, but you can't get close enough. 

His soft mouth glides against your own, groans at the way you nip at his lower lip. He knows what you want. You know what you want. And yet, you're surprised by the way his tongue darts out to lap at yours, a bolt of electricity firing down your spine. Sloppily tangling, spit slicking your lips, parting just for the sake of meeting each other again. 

Strong hips roll upward, growing bulge nudging between your legs. The rough material of his jeans a wicked sensation against your core. 

Blindly, you reach for one of his hands, drawing it between your bodies. And for a moment, you part, panting for a breath you can't catch, eager to focus on his handsome face as you guide him beneath your dress.

His eyelashes flutter. Rough fingertips dip between your dripping folds. "How long you ain't had those on?" 

"Since you texted and said you were coming to get me," and there's more to that statement of yours. Ramblings about how you'd intended to part your legs and give him a view when he was flagging you down through the window. But he's bringing his glistening fingers to his lips, and your brain has effectively gone silent.

All of a sudden, it's too hot in this jacket of his. The wind isn't chilly enough to bite back the wildfire blazing across your skin. 

Everything moves so fast. One moment, you're in his lap, and the next, your chest is against the hood of his truck, knees knocking together as his calloused palms slide up your inner thighs. Feeling their way up to the curve of your ass, squeezing greedy handfuls. 

"Fuckin look at you," he hisses under his breath, and you just know he's leaning back to capture the full picture. 

Impatient, you wiggle back into him, whining, "hurry up."  

Rhett doesn't need to be told twice. Gaudy, oversized belt buckle jingling as he pops it open and yanks down his zipper. Music to your ears, even with the jumpy radio still droning in the background. That poor CD is so close to reaching its final resting place, but it's not quite there yet.

A familiar hardness nudges between your thighs. So hot against your chilly thighs that it almost burns. His leaking tip slips through your folds, rubbing past your entrance in favor of grazing your clit. A perfect glide that has you biting into the side of your palm to keep quiet. Only sickened by the packet of lube he's pouring onto himself, using your cunt to spread it across himself. Lazily fucking himself against your sex without much effort. 

"Can't believe you're out here lettin' me do this," he grunts, blunt head catching, beginning to nudge into you, "what're ya fixin' to do if one of them folks comes lookin' for ya, hm?"

Blunt nails trail up your exposed thighs, a light tickling that has you unintentionally jerking back against him, that thick tip slipping into you without warning. So suddenly full of him that you gasp, head dropping down to rest against your forearms. 

Rhett's still talking, eating away the silence as he takes hold of your hips, holding you still while he pushes into you. "What're ya gonna do if you get caught with a ranch hand balls deep in your sweet lil pussy?" 

"And how do you plan on dealing with the whole town knowing about your sex life?" Your voice strained, wound too tight by the thick length that's splitting you oh so wide. Don't think you'll ever grow used to how he drags against your walls, such a simple sensation that sends a tremor into your legs. 

"Don't mind it," inhaling sharply through his nose, Rhett bends down, his warm chest pressing against your shoulders, "long as they know you're mine."

Kisses pepper against the side of your neck, where a thin sheen of sweat has already begun to collect. A vague distraction from the way his hips press against your ass, skin flush together. You've taken him to the hilt, can barely understand how you've done so, and yet he's still pushing impossibly deeper. Urging every last millimeter of his cock into you, just to hear you grunt, your hand pawing at the slick hood of his truck.

"Rhett..." you whisper, aren't quite sure if it's meant to be a warning or a whimper. Maybe both.

"Y' can take it," his breath tickles your skin as his nose bumps its way up your neck, not stopping until he can graze his teeth against the shell of your ear, "know ya can, sweetheart."

In the back of your head, you know he's right; you've done this more times than you can count, but every time, you can't help but wonder if it'll be your last. Split wide open on his cock, until you're aching from the stretch of him, so full that you can focus on nothing else. 

You've never been so thankful to be pressed up against the hood of a GMC Sierra, the cool metal a welcome relief to your overheated cheek. Makes it a little easier to look over your shoulder to steal a glance at your cowboy with his half-unbuttoned shirt and half-lidded eyes. 

With a deep breath, you open your mouth again, "move." 

A breathy laugh fans out against your ear, so amused by your request and so eager to fulfill it. A gust of wind breezes past as he gingerly draws his hips away. Cock sliding out of you a little under halfway, only to ease back in with the same carefulness as the first time. 

His balls bump against your clit on his next push inward. A soft tap of attention that has you squirming back into him, fluttering around his cock like a butterfly. And you know he can feel it because he sucks in an audible breath, the only thing he can do to keep himself from swearing out loud. Twitches into you a little too hard, rocking your body up against the truck, balls slapping against that throbbing little button again and—

A whimper tears its way out of your throat. 

"Like that?" Rhett's leaning back, big hands settling on either side of your hips like a warning, "y' wantin' me to be rough with you, darlin'?"

You don't know what you want. So long as he keeps doing this. Working up a pace that rocks your bodies into the truck, the only noises in the air are the soft patter of skin on skin, the gravel shifting beneath your feet, and the soft grunts falling off Rhett's tongue. Barely there noises meant for your ears only.

"Wish you could see yourself," Rhett's muttering, his free hand smoothing across your exposed backside and beneath your dress, feeling its way up your spine, "pr'ty lil ass in the moonlight like this."

Those wicked hips slam into your ass, pushing you forward and up onto your tip-toes; metal squeals as your clammy palms scramble across the truck's hood, searching for purchase. 

"Rhett!" You all but yelp. Can't do a goddamn thing but take every bit of him, spasming around him as he drives right into that little bundle of nerves, plush tip kissing it on every pass over. 

There's no way someone won't hear you if they open the front door. Will recognize the rocking of the truck and know exactly what it is that you're up to. Bending over for your beloved ranch hand instead of getting close with one of the Tillersons or their equally well-off associates. Desperate for the devilish smack of Rhett's balls against your clit, can no longer think of the elusive opportunities that come with pretending to like someone with more money than the entirety of Wabang combined. 

All you can think of is this. The sensation of Rhett's unshaven jaw grazing against your collar as he bends down to press warm kisses to the underside of your jaw. How your dripping sex squelches with his every thrust. 

"Lookin' so innocent in your little party dress," Rhett's murmuring into your ear, him and his dizzyingly deep voice. So up close and all over that he floods your senses, mind cluttered with Rhett, Rhett, Rhett. "Gettin' roughed up by a cowboy while all them snobs in there wonder where you're at." 

You fear you've forgotten how to speak because your lips are moving, but nothing is coming out. Mind growing foggier with every collision of his body up against yours, whimpering high in your throat. Oh, you've missed this. 

"Ought to cum in this tiny lil pussy of yours," his voice vibrates down your spine, sends your skin prickling, "pump y' nice 'n full of me 'n make ya walk right back in that party with my cum runnin' down your thighs."

It wouldn't be the first time he's paraded you through a crowd; your thighs squeezed together as you try to keep yourself from falling apart at the seams. Forced to grin and pretend that you can't feel the way he's spilling out of you. 

And you're already so full of him, a plume of heat just beginning to spark where his thick cock disappears inside you. Bodies tangled together so hopelessly that neither of you can figure out who starts and ends where. Only worsened by the hand that tilts your head to the side, your mouth weakly meeting his swollen lips. You can hardly hold the kiss for more than a second, broken apart by how he jerks into you.

"Do y' want that, hm?" He's still talking; fuck, fuck, fuck, why is he still talking? Cooing those sweet words into your ear, a spell that you have no hope of resisting. "Waddlin' 'round your own house, actin' like you didn't just get fucked nice 'n good."

You don't know where you're finding the strength to push back against him. Feet scrambling for purchase in the loose gravel, trying to meet the unrelenting slam of his hips. A futile attempt at getting more that gives him the space to reach down between your legs, coarse fingertips dancing around your swollen clit. 

"Fuck, Rhett—!" Your choked cry is anything but quiet, echoing through the dark blanket of the night and carrying its way up to the stars. The same ones that twinkle behind your eyelids, growing brighter with every plunge of his cock, and the massage of his fingers against your clit. Working over and over and over. 

Rhett's cheek bumps into your shoulder, his body curving to fit against yours until there's not an inch of space left between your bodies. "Or would y' rather me carry you in and let 'em all see who y' belong to?" 

Oh, oh, oh. You can already hear the dramatic gasp of your visitors, the shattering of the steep expectations they've held for you. 

But that's only if they don't catch you first, and the noises whittling out of your throat do nothing to help your case. Unable to shut your mouth, dissolving into a limp mess against Rhett's ranch truck. No better than a warm doll, clinging to the remnants of your control while he fucks you. Rhythm falling apart, chasing the same high that's making your head spin, heat washing across your body. 

"C'mon, sweet thing," Rhett's voice wavers, sweat dripping from his trembling jaw and landing on your shoulder. "Where do y' want it?"

He'll pull out if you want him to, has so many times before, but you're already babbling, mouth struggling to wrap around the words, "inside, inside, Rhett—hah."

And he doesn't need to be told twice. The weight of his body growing heavier as he settles against you in earnest now, unafraid of not being able to pull himself away in time. Working into your spasming pussy like it's the only thing he's ever wanted to do. The underside of his cock rubbing into that sweet collection of nerves, never once losing contact. 

There's a shake in his arms, and it's starting to match the trembling in your thighs, his breath quickening in tune with yours, those deep groans like music to your ears. No longer able to keep himself quiet, weak fingers still working your clit with what strength he's got left. You're right there, you're right there, you're right—

Rhett's forearm muffles the cry that leaves you. 

For a moment, your mind is blank. Only dimly aware of the rhythmic spasm of your pussy as Rhett's hips stall, cock twitching as a familiar head spreads inside you. A whine tumbles off someone's lips, might be yours, might be his; you can't fucking tell anymore. Ears washed over with a dull ringing as that heat eats you up from the inside out. 

What strength remains in your body begins to dissolve. Your head is still spinning up with the stars when your knees give out from beneath you. But your knees don't hit the ground, instead held up by a nondescript body—Rhett's, you think, pinning you to the truck. 

It's the ache in your jaw that brings you back to the real world. Eyes fluttering open as you pull your mouth away from Rhett's forearm, an outline of teeth imprinted over the thick vein that runs through it.

"Y' bit me," he chuckles into your ear, "ain't never done that one before."

You don't know when your dominant arm got trapped between your stomach and the truck, but a portion of the GMC logo has been imprinted on your skin. A temporary brand, only takes one look for it to reveal your recent rendezvous, shows itself off as you paw at the metal hood, struggling to regain your bearings. 

On its own, Rhett's spent cock slips out of you, and already you can feel the cum spilling down your thighs. 

"I'm gonna be so sore in the morning," you'd sound more dramatic if you weren't caught in the midst of a yawn, "how am I supposed to get up to my room without anyone noticing me waddling like a damn penguin?"

Rhett's warm nose nuzzles against your cheek, and you can't see it, but you can feel his smile. "I'll kiss it better if that's what you're wantin'." 

Certainly wasn't an idea that was on your list, but you don't mind the idea of that. 

Your legs sway as you push yourself off the side of the truck, leaves you stumbling into Rhett's big, sweaty chest. And you're so, so fortunate that he's quick to react, big arms coiling around you and securing you to him because you know your ass would be hitting the gravel otherwise.

"At first, I was kiddin' 'bout carryin' you inside," he chuckles, nothing but smiles as he presses a kiss to your temple, "but now I think 'm gonna have to." 

"Or," holding up your finger, "you could not take me inside."

He's leaning back, just enough to get a glimpse of your face, crushed up against his shoulder, "'n here I thought you wanted to go back in." 

"I do," on their own accord, your arms rise to circle his waist, grabbing greedy handfuls of his flannel. "But I don't wanna leave you." 

Because going inside means that you have to leave your boyfriend out in the cold, forced to remain out of sight and far away from the families who aren't so fond of the Abbotts. Old rivalries in a cattle industry that only Rhett's family remains in, forever unable to acquire the same wealth as the others did. As yours did.

But sleeping beneath the moonlight or in the barn isn't feasible. The temperature has only begun to plummet; body heat alone isn't enough to protect against autumn Wyoming nights. 

If only the numbers in Rhett's bank account were big enough to buy the respect of the assholes spilling wine on the freshly cleaned carpet of your living room. Carelessly wasting a drink that costs more than this old GMC Sierra, modifications included. 

"What if..." he's thinking aloud, gears visibly twisting and turning in his pretty head, "I take ya to that hotel outta town? The one with the theater next door."

"Well, if you let me get my wallet—"

"Naw," Rhett's cutting you off before your sentence can be finished, already knows where the conversation is headed, "you let me worry 'bout that."

All these people at your home, with their needlessly expensive items and mile-deep pockets, and yet it's your blue-collar, run-of-the-mill cowboy who is the least concerned about money. Even when he's got every reason in the book to worry about the numbers in his bank account and the unnecessary expense of a nice hotel.

"Sound alright?" His nose bumps against your cheek, tickling.

"That's more than alright," on their own, the corners of your lips rise into a smile. Your eyes dart toward the barn doors, can already hear that same Eric Church track starting up again. Funny how you now have a memory to go with a song about a memory. "But maybe you should shut off that radio first." 

#rhett abbott x reader #rhett abbott #oneshot #rhett abbott smut #outer range #rhett abbott imagine #rhett abbott x you #x reader

[hotvintagepoll]

Propaganda

Irene Dunne (The Awful Truth, Theodora Goes Wild, My Favorite Wife)— The first time I saw her in Theodora Goes Wild she struck me dumb because who is that BEAUTIFUL woman being so funny and clever??? She was primarily known as a dramatic actress (and believe you me those are muscles she can FLEX, Penny Serenade hurts my feelings) but she’s also one of the funniest screwball leading ladies I’ve ever seen. Her films with Cary Grant are especially charming, but all her characters have this knowing quality in the heart of them that’s so intriguing, and her screwball girlies have this freedom to go after what (or who) they want that is delightfully subversive. I want to be her, I want to fuck her, I want to see every movie she’s ever done, she is a brilliant actress and she is my dream woman.

Devika Rani (Achhut Kanya)—She was grandniece of Rabindranath Tagore (laureate). She was sent to boarding school in England at age nine and grew up there. After completing her schooling, she joined the Royal Academy of Dramatic Art (RADA) and the Royal Academy of Music to study acting and music, at a time when aristocratic women did not enter showbiz. She studied filmmaking in Berlin. It is well known that she underwent training at the UFA Studios in the art and technique of acting under Eric Pommer, and other aspects of film production including costume and set designing and make-up, under eminent directors like GW Pabst, Fritz Lang, Emil Jannings and Josef von Sternberg. She is also reported to have worked with Marlene Dietrich. She had a multi-faceted personality and took on many responsibilities of film production at Bombay Talkies, a studio that she co-founded with Himanshu Rai in Mumbai in 1934. She often took care of hair and make up, supervised set design and editing, scouted for new talent and mentored them. She was the face of Bombay Talkies, and also the reason behind the political and financial backing the studio received, at a time when even women from red light districts refused to work as actresses. She was the first recipient of the Dadasaheb Phalke Award, when it was instituted in 1970.

This is round 2 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Irene Dunne:

irene excelled in screwball comedies, musicals, melodramas...she could do it all. she often played elegant society ladies and brought sparkling charisma and poise for days to anything she did, and sang like an angel (she pursued opera before going into moves), her rendition of jerome kern's "smoke gets in your eyes" in roberta moves me to tears every time.

A fantastic star of screwball comedies Irene Dunne is an undersung hot woman in my opinion. She rose to fame in her roles alongside the likes of Cary Grant, and was usually the funniest person in her movies. And the hottest.

She's snarky, and quick, prone to rolling her eyes, and eager to trip her counterparts up. In short, she was a devilish, charming, problem of a woman in many of her films, the pinnacle of hotness.

She’s so gorgeous and funny and her way of acting is so fresh and timeless! She’s the complete package of hotness to me with her talents, humor, and, of course, hot looks. I named my left tit after her to hopefully attract even a smidgen of her beauty and charm.

Devika Rani:

Achhut Kanya (1936) is the only one of hers I've seen but hot DAMN

#devika rani #irene dunne #hotvintagepoll #fuck that old woman #ladies 2 #Youtube

[bitterpotionn]

Johnny Slaughter - Springsteen

This fic is inspired by Eric Church's, Springsteen. Also got some Bruce Springsteen influence packed in there. This one is a doozy, with a lot of experimenting, we get fluffy and mean Johnny all in one. I'm still unsure of how I feel about this piece so any feedback will be greatly appreciated.

I hope you all like it, as always any feedback or constructive criticism is welcome! I love reading all of your comments, it motivates me so so much.

Warnings: unsafe sex, dubcon (towards the end), fluffy fluffy Johnny, lovemaking, neck grabbing, smoking, mean/sad Johnny, angst, tattoos

It was a hot July night. The windows of Johnny's truck were rolled down, and Born to Run played on the radio. She leaned against the open window, letting the wind brush past her face as he went a steady pace down the old dirt road.

Johnny's scarred hand reached down and squeezed her thigh as he turned up the radio, a wide grin on his face as he sang. "Oh, will you walk with me out on the wire?" She quickly turned and smiled at him. Johnny's singing voice was deep and off-key but he continued, "'Cause baby, I'm just a scared and lonely rider," his eyes flicked to hers periodically, as he tried to somewhat focus on the road. His grin was still wide.

She grabbed his hand and sang along with him. "But I gotta know how it feels, I want to know if love is wild, babe," their voices were loud as they sang together, small laughs breaking up between the lyrics.

Johnny could barely contain his giddy smile as she sang into his hand like a microphone, stroking his face as she serenaded him.

They spent a lot of nights like this. They stayed at the local diner as long as they could until one of the waitresses made them leave. Then, Johnny always took the long way to her house. They both tried to prolong their time together. Johnny loved how he felt around her. Away from his family, away from the violence, she was like a beacon of light that lit him up in ways he never thought was possible. His life was so dark and grim, it almost suffocated him but with her, he could breathe fresh, cool air.

The radio now was at a low volume, it acted as a comforting background noise. She cuddled up to his arm as he drove, his hand wrapped around her leg. Johnny leaned his cheek against her head, one hand placed firmly on the wheel. Johnny felt her grip on him tighten as they passed the familiar sign for her street.

Johnny pulled into her long driveway and parked at the top. His eyes flicked down and saw a deep frown on her face as she ran her fingers along his torn knuckles. "Don't go, I wish you could stay," her voice was a low whisper, barely audible.

He let out a small hum, nodding. "I know, pretty," when he looked down at her, he started to see small tears form at the corners of her eyes. Johnny quickly nuzzled his face into her neck, making kissing sounds. She let out a small laugh as she laid her back against his seat, he was now hovering over her.

"C'mon don't be sad, you'll see me bright and early tomorrow, yeah?" when she didn't respond he lifted her chin up and rubbed his nose against hers, again earning a small laugh from her as she nodded. "Alright," she mumbled out with a pout. "I dunno why I can't just stay at your place, my folks would never know," her hands cupped his face, her thumb gently rubbing over his scar.

Johnny gave her a strained smile, he couldn't tell her the real reason she couldn't stay. He wanted her far away from his family's carnage and horror. They didn't even know about her, if they did they would just scold him for it. Love didn't exist in the Slaughter household.

"You wouldn't like my place anyway, not very clean," he teased squeezing at her cheeks. She playfully swatted his hands away. "I hope we can get our own place one day, just me and you," Johnny smiled and nodded "I'd like that,"

--

"Johnny we can't" she giggled, holding his arm tightly as they walked down the worn sidewalks in town. "C'mon, it's to celebrate your birthday," He grinned down at her and gave her waist a small squeeze.

They made their way to a small tattoo parlor. Johnny sat comfortably in the chair, all while grinning widely at her. She nervously held his hand as the tattoo artist wiped his arm down. "Your mom is going to kill you, Johnny," his grin widened "Let her," he smirked at her and pulled her in for a kiss

--

"Does it hurt," she asked running her fingertips over the fresh ink, now permanently embedded into Johnny's arm. "Nah," he watched as she studied his arm with awe. Her name was tattooed on his bicep. She smiled up at him wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him to him, kissing him deeply a wide smile on her lips.

Johnny let out a small groan and smirked into the kiss, pulling her close. Letting out a small laugh, she looked around the tattoo parlor, she could feel her cheeks heat up, she was clearly embarrassed by the PDA. He gave her a small grumble and held her hand, leading her out of the parlor.

--

Johnny lay on her bed, watching her old TV perched on her dresser. Johnny usually wasn't around her house much, her parents weren't too fond of him. They always made small comments about his "odd" family, they thought he came from trash. In some ways they weren't wrong.

This weekend though, they were lucky enough to have the entire house to themselves. Her parents were out of town for a couple of days and he essentially moved in for the weekend. She thought it would be great practice for when they have their own place.

Johnny was dressed casually for once. He was wearing sweatpants with no shirt. He looked almost comical. The way his large body lay in the middle of a twin-sized mattress, which was covered in stuffed animals and bright bedding. Funnily enough, this is the comfiest he's ever been.

Johnny felt himself drift off, only to be awoken by the sound of her entering the room. He turned to look at her, she was wearing an oversized t-shirt with sleep shorts. He couldn't help but smile and reach out for her, his scarred arms motioning her forward. She gave him a smile and crawled into the cramped bed with him. She was practically laying on top of him due to the lack of room.

“Comfortable?” He asked, his hands rubbing up and down her back. She let out a small “mhm” in response, burying her face into the crook of his neck, breathing him in. The domestic feeling made Johnny feel warm. He never got this feeling at home, it was either too loud or deathly quiet there. But here, the silence was welcome, it was comfortable, it was good.

--

The morning came steadily, the golden sunrise shines through her sheer curtains, casting rays directly on Johnny’s face. He was on his side, his toned arms wrapped around her as she slept soundly.

For once, he woke up calm. He didn’t wake up to the sound of screaming or a revving chainsaw. All he could hear now was the faint chirp of the morning birds and her small snores.

His hands traveled up and down her waist, caressing her skin softly. He smiled as she started to wake up, her eyelashes batted as she turned her head to look at him with a smile. “Morning…” she yawned and stretched her arms.

Johnny kissed up the back of her neck. His calloused hands found their way to her breasts, giving them soft squeezes. She smiled and laid her head back against his chest, letting him explore her body freely.

Johnny nibbled on her earlobe, earning a giggle from her, it was like music to his ears. He lifted up her shirt, exposing her breasts to the cool air of the room. He rolled her nipple between his fingers.

Small moans escaped her lips, her hands covered his, following his ministrations. Johnny gently moved so he was hovering over her. One forearm next to her head kept him steady as he continued kneading her breasts. He eventually leaned down and began sucking on one, allowing himself to let out small grumbles. The bulge in his sweatpants was hard to ignore at this point.

Once Johnny was seemingly satisfied, he let go of her breast with a loud pop, smirking up at her. At this point, she was breathless, she was trying to squeeze her legs together for some kind of friction but couldn’t because of Johnnys knee inbetween her legs, he loved teasing her.

He leaned down and whispered in her ear. “Tell me what you want, baby,” his words were low. With a small whine she squeezed Johnnys forearm, her eyes flicked toward his tattoo, she smiled. “You, please,” Johnny chuckled and kissed her earlobe as his hand traveled down to yank her sleep shorts off with one smooth tug. Exposing her bare sex to him.

Johnny kissed down her breasts, then to her stomach, stopping to pepper kisses all over her abdomen making her giggle and pout. “No teasing,” she whined out, her fingers finding their way to his messy hair. Johnnys eyes flicked up to hers and he smiled. He continued down to her aching cunt. He licked his lips and pressed a small kiss to her clit, making her gasp and buck her hips toward him.

He chuckled again. “So needy, doll,” Johnny got in his knees on the floor, he tugged her body to him so he was eye-level with her needy cunt. She gasped and grabbed onto the sheets, looking at him with desperate eyes. Johnny wrapped his arms around her thighs and licked a long stripe up her folds, groaning deeply as he did so. He savored how she tasted as he continued to lick her cunt.

She arched her back off the bed and gripped Johnny's head as he ate her out. Johnny tried to keep her steady but was so focused on her sweet taste that he didn't mind the wild bucking of her hips. He knew her body like the back of his hand, what made her go crazy, and he was happy to indulge her. After he slipped in two fingers, he could tell she was almost at her breaking point. Her moans became high-pitched and needy, her hips wildly humped into his face. With one last whine, he felt her come undone in his mouth. Johnny didn't stop however, he kept licking her up, his grin wide as he stared at her blissed out face.

Johnny slowly pulled away from her, his eyes flicking up to her tear-soaked face as she tried to catch her breath. He smiled and crawled back on top of her, kissing the salty tears from her cheeks. "You alright, baby?" he asked his free hand stroking her face with the utmost care.

She nodded and smiled up at him, pulling him down for a needy kiss. Johnny groaned softly as he rolled his hips against her thigh, his bulge rock-hard against her soft flesh. She pulled away from the kiss and her hand traveled down to touch his erection. He hissed at the contact and tipped his head back, looking at her through hooded eyes.

Without another word, Johnny yanked down his sweatpants and pulled out his cock with a low groan. She reached down to stroke him but he stopped her. "I need to feel you, almost can't stand it," he gave her a smile and kissed her deeply as he lined himself up with her slick entrance. "You ready, pretty?"

She smiled up at him and nodded wrapping her arms around his neck, pulling him closer to her. Johnny slowly sank into her with a loud groan that he quickly tried to cover with a chuckle. Even after so many times feeling him, she was never prepared for just how well he was able to fill her.

The room was filled with small moans as Johnny continued slowly thrusting into her. His hand cradled her face with care, and he continued to kiss up and down her neck. He was gentle with her. Her hands gripped his hair, moans escaping her lips as his thrusts continued.

Johnny couldn't help but smile, he stared at her with a love-sick gaze. "You're doin' so good, baby," his words were soft, and his thrusts continued. He could feel her clench around him at the praise. Her legs began to shake when he reached a hand down and began rubbing her clit. Johnny felt her come undone beneath him. With one last thrust, Johnny filled her up with a whiny moan, burying his face into the crook of her neck. She wrapped her arms around him and held him close.

Their combined pants slowly turned to small laughs as they held each other. Sweat clung to their bodies as Johnny grabbed a towel from the floor and began wiping her off gently. He smiled and grabbed her hand pulling her into his arms. "Why don't we shower and I can buy us breakfast," he nuzzled his face into her neck, savoring her small giggles.

--

Summer was nearing the end. The hot days were slipping away as the nights got colder. The road was quiet as Johnny drove the familiar path to her house, the long way, like usual.

“You’re quiet, doll,” Johnny’s eyes flicked toward her still figure in the passenger seat. She shrugged and leaned against the window, she just stared out the window.

Johnny frowned and moved his hand to her thigh, giving it a small squeeze. "C'mon, baby, what's wrong?" his voice was soft. Johnny could always tell when something was wrong. He felt like he spent so long just studying her, he wanted to understand her.

Johnny noticed her lip curling in a small pout as tears welled up in her eyes. Almost immediately, he pulled to the side of the road and put his truck in park, immediately pulling her close to him. "What happened, doll?" small sobs erupted from her as she buried her face in his chest, desperately gripping the fabric of his shirt. Johnny felt a familiar squeeze in his heart. He ran his hand up and down her back, trying to comfort her.

"Johnny...I-" she looked up at him through glossy eyes. "My family is moving," Johnny stared at her, his lips parting slightly. "And I was thinkin', I could stay and I could stay with you," she sat up and squeezed his hands, tears still streaming down her face. "Baby, I-" Johnny's eyes shifted nervously. "I would love that but you can't be around where I live, it's not saf-" Johnny paused. He couldn't let her around his family, even just the thought of that made him sick.

She sniffled and looked down at her lap. "Maybe I could just get my own place, my folks can't make me go with them, right?" Johnny stared down at her, his stomach hurt. "Johnny, I can't just leave you, please come with me. You, you could get a job up in Washington and save up for a place while I go to school," her words were jumbled and hurried, tears still streaming down her face.

Could he just leave? Leave his family? Leave his mom? She didn't understand, he couldn't just pack up and leave everything behind. Right? Johnny hesitated, squeezing her hand. "I can't just leave my family," his words were soft, almost a whisper. She whimpered as she leaned into him. "Please Johnny,"

All his life, Johnny was taught the importance of staying loyal to his family. Despite the horror, the bloodshed, and the abuse, at the end of the day family was family. He heard his mother's words echo in his mind.

"Baby, I can't," Johnny felt his own tears stream down his face, and he pulled her into his lap. She straddled him as he hugged her tightly. While he couldn't leave his family, he couldn't imagine living without her. She was the only person in this world that he felt safe with. Her devasted sobs rang in his ears, and his heart was beating out of his chest.

After a long while of just holding each other, she pulled away from him. Her face swollen and tear-stained, she looked at him. "Will you call?" She asked. Johnny stared at her, he grabbed her hand and gave it a small kiss. "I'll call,"

--

Years passed. Trying to stay in contact with states between them eventually took its toll. He knew it would. Johnny was devasted at the loss of contact, after a while he felt like he was annoying her with the calls. She was in college, meeting new people, seeing new things, and experiencing life beyond the small town in Texas. Devastation quickly turned to anger and resentment.

Johnny, once just a complicit bystander in his family's crimes, quickly becomes shallowed whole by them. When he was with her, he had a reason to stay good, a reason to desperately hold onto that last strand of hope he had for his future, now with her gone he had nothing.

Despite this anger he had towards her, he still cherished the memories he made with her. She was his first kiss, his first time, his first everything. Sometimes he stayed awake late at night, thinking about her. What she was doing, how she changed over the years. The thoughts made him sick.

Johnny stood at the counter of the local gas station. He was buying another pack of cigarettes, despite one hanging lit from his mouth. The gas station attendant told him multiple times to not smoke inside, but he eventually stopped trying.

Johnny opened his wallet to pay the attendant, his eyes flicked down to the picture he had of her, still framed neatly in his wallet. He quickly closed it and paid, sauntering off with a new pack of cigarettes and a beer.

As he was walking towards his truck he heard a small gasp and a voice behind him, "Johnny?" His blood ran cold as he stopped in his tracks, turning around to be face-to-face with his high school sweetheart. His eyes quickly scanned her. It almost looked like she never left, that she was still the girl he fell for all those years ago.

She smiled and clasped her hands together in excitement, he noted how she still had the same mannerisms. "Gosh how are you, I haven't seen you in years!" She drank in his appearance. He was more toned, his arms now littered with scars, he looked almost more mean. Though, those thoughts were quickly overshadowed when she noted that he still had the tattoo of her name on his bicep.

Johnny hesitated for just a moment before answering. "I'm alright, quite a shock to see you here, you haven't visited down since you left," he tried to maintain his composure, tried to keep his usual calm exterior but that was difficult the more he stared at her body.

She gave him a sheepish smile. “Yeah, I always meant to but…still have some family down here and I thought I might as well!” His stares did go unnoticed by her. His stares used to make her feel giddy and warm and now she just felt cold. She awkwardly shifted and looked up at him. “It’s nice to see you, ya know,”

Johnnys eyes shifted from her breasts back to her eyes, a wide smirk appeared on his lips. “Yeah real nice,” he leaned against his truck stared at her through hooded eyes. “Why don’t you come back to my place? We can catch up,” he pulled out another cigarette and lit it, blowing the smoke in the air.

She nervously chewed on her lip as she watched him. He was so different. His whole persona shifted, she figured that just happened with time but it felt off. She tried to ease her anxious thoughts, it hadn't been that long and he was still the Johnny she knew right?

"Oh, alright," she gave him a strained smile. "But you gotta drop me back off here, so I can get my car," He grinned at her. "Perfect," he opened the passenger side door of this truck for her, the same truck she spent so many nights in.

Once she hopped if she couldn't help but fully examine the truck, it felt so surreal being back in it. Her hands trailed along the worn leather seats. She looked up as Johnny got back in the car, the same grin adorning his handsome face. "Seein' you back in my truck's doin' something to me, doll," he chuckled as he started up the engine.

She couldn't help but beam at the old nickname, her heart fluttered. "Hasn't changed much," she said, running her fingers over the dashboard. "So, you still live with your family?" she asked glancing over to him as he took off down the road.

"On the property, got a real nice trailer put up," he explained, his eyes shifting to look at her. She hummed and nodded leaning back comfortably into the seat. "Ya know, I am real sorry for losing touch, I always meant to call but..." her words trailed off, a deep frown washing over her face.

Johnny couldn't help but scoff. "Didn't try too hard, I called every day, you just stopped pickin' up," he couldn't hide the venom and hate that laced his words. He still was angry, that much became very clear to her. She flinched a bit and dipped her chin down. "I know,"

Johnny sighed a bit and ran a hand down his face. "Didn't mean to snap at you, just missed ya," the grin that he had their entire interaction was replaced with a small frown, his jaw was clinched. She glanced over at him, giving him a small smile, trying to ease his mood. Her eyes then flicked to his bicep. Her name still inked in pretty letters, faded with time. "I'm surprised you didn't cover this up," she slowly reached out a hand and brushed her fingers against his rough skin. She noticed how he tensed up at her touch.

"Couldn't bring myself to," he chuckled, the grin appearing back on his face. He reached out a hand and grabbed hers, pulling her closer to him. She giggled a bit and scooted closer to him. It was almost like nothing ever changed.

She allowed herself to lean on his arm, breathing in his scent. It all felt so familiar like she was pushed back into time before she left, before anything bad ever happened between them. "Ya know, I missed you too," she said while lacing her fingers with his. "Yeah?" a smile crept on his face.

They continued down the road at a steady pace, she recognized each passing street. As they neared Johnny's place, the road became more and more unfamiliar. Johnny never wanted her around his family, she never really understood why. He always came up with excuses and she never pushed any further.

Johnny turned onto a long dirt road. Ahead of them was a fairly large white house with large fields surrounding either side. She noticed Johnny's small trailer towards the left side, tucked behind some barn. She sat up straight, tensing a bit.

Johnny parked the truck, he leaned back and stared at her, studying her reactions. He noticed how she was nervously chewing on her lip. He couldn't help but smirk.

She turned to him and gave him a strained smile. "I've never been here before," Johnny shrugged and opened the car door. "Not like you gotta meet anyone," he circled around the truck to open the door for her, offering her a hand as she hopped out of the truck.

She stood nervously at Johnny's side, her heart was pounding hard in her chest. She laced her fingers with Johnny's and looked around. Johnny grinned as she sought him out for comfort, some things never change. He gave her hand a small squeeze and led her behind the barn. His trailer was fairly new, though she could tell he wasn't keeping up on the maintenance.

Johnny tugged open the door, the smell of stale cigarettes and beer hit her face. She walked in and looked around. It was pretty messy, though she wasn't shocked, she had never seen how Johnny lived before. She heard Johnny shut and lock the door behind him.

"Like it?" she heard him ask, standing behind her. She turned to him and nodded. "Bit messy," she teased. Johnny grinned at her and shrugged. "Shouldn't be a problem for too much longer," he hummed out, his hands found their way to her waist.

She found the comment odd but decided not to comment on it, after all, she could feel herself getting flustered at his touch. Johnny leaned down and began kissing up and down her neck, sucking on the spots he remembered she liked.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, her hands finding their way to his thick hair. Johnny snickered once he realized she had given in. He picked her up and laid her down on the couch.

Johnny lifted up her shirt and let out a small groan. "Fuck, been waiting so long to see these tits again," his lips suctioned around her hardening nipple. She let out a small moan as she played with his hair, she tugged on his shirt, hoping he would get the hint.

Johnny glanced up at her, before quickly taking off his shirt. She almost gasped when she saw the numerous scars littering his body. Her fingers trailed over the pink leathery scars. "W-what happened?" she asked softly, not wanting to upset him.

Johnny paused for a bit, he didn't know what to say. He couldn't tell her the truth, at least not yet. "Some fights, farming accidents, nothing too major, doll," he leaned down and caught her lips in a slow kiss, hoping to distract her. It seemed to have worked because she slowly melted in the kiss.

A thin strand of saliva connected them when Johnny pulled away. He grinned down at her and unbuttoned her jean shorts, pulling them off swiftly. He stared at her wet folds, almost drooling. He had been craving her for so many years now. He would lay awake at night, stroking his length to the memories of them together. Now he was getting the real deal.

"Have you been a good girl for me?" he asked tipping her chin up with his index finger. She nodded sheepishly, biting down on her lip. "Hm, I think you're lying," he began rubbing slowly at her clit. "I think you've had a couple boyfriends since me, huh?" his voice was laced with jealously as he kissed her neck.

She didn't know how to answer, of course, she has had different boyfriends, she figured he would just assume so and not say anything about it. She also took note of the jealousy, Johnny had his jealous moments before but he was so sure in their relationship, that jealousy was never an issue. Now she could hear the pure jealous raging in him.

"Yes," she said breathlessly, unable to focus on much other than his fingers rubbing at her clit. Johnny's jaw clenched, his fingers quickening their pace. "Yeah? Were they as good as me?" his fingers slipped inside of her aching hole. She quickly shook her head, a small whimper forming in her throat.

She wasn't exactly lying. She hadn't had a serious boyfriend since Johnny. Just a couple month long flings with guys who really only wanted one thing. She often thought about Johnny during those times, she couldn't help but compare everyone to him.

Johnny grinned. "Mhm, bet those college boys couldn't make you feel like this huh?" his fingers curled up into her, hitting her deepest points directly. She let out a loud moan, gripping his hair, and her legs began to shake. "Yeah, can't let that happen again, now can I?" His grin widened as he felt her come undone on his fingers.

She felt like she was on cloud nine, she was back with the love of her life, in his own place like they always talked about. She watched as Johnny pulled his fingers out slowly, licking them clean with a low groan.

Johnny lifted her up and sat on the couch, placing her in his lap. “Look at you,” he grinned pulling her down for another kiss. Her hands fumbled with his belt, tugging on it with a low whine. He quickly took off his belt, setting it aside.

She watched with wide eyes as he pulled out his hardening cock. It was just as intimidating as she remembered. He watched her reactions closely, he gave his cock a few strokes.

Johnny noticed her hesitation, his hand grabbed her neck, with a little too much force. "What you'll put out for some college boys but not me?" his voice was low and dark, his eyes narrowed as he stared at her wide eyes.

His tone was shocking to her. Before, he was always so gentle with her. "W-what?" Johnny's grip tightened around her neck. "What? You scared?" he shook her a little bit, his other hand guiding his tip through her soaked folds.

"N-No," she whimpered, gripping his shoulders. "Why are you acting like this?" her voice was low, almost a whisper, she didn't want to upset him further. Johnny let out a small chuckle, slowly sliding his cock into her. "Actin' like what, doll," Johnny wasn't stupid. He knows he's changed. He's killed and done unspeakable acts. Part of him still resented her, for leaving, after all that's the reason he's like this now, a killer.

She squeezed her eyes shut, letting out a strained moan as he bottomed out into her. Johnny didn't give her much time to adjust, flipping her onto her back again, his thrusts becoming brutal.

His behavior was so unlike what she was used to with him. He was only rough after asking her for permission or after a small argument, but it was always discussed beforehand. Now, he was angrily thrusting in her, a deep scowl set on his face.

"You like that, huh?" Johnny's hand squeezed tighter on her neck. "You missed this cock," Johnny bit down on her neck, a loud moan escaping her lips, tears welling in her eyes. "You shouldn't like it, not after what you did," his voice broke.

She stared at his blurry figure, tears streaming down her face, she gripped his arms, trying to focus on the feeling of his cock thrusting into her. Johnny shook her a bit, causing her to gasp for air. "You don't get to enjoy this," his voice was almost a whimper.

"Johnny, why?" she sobbed, her nails digging into his forearms. She was practically begging him for answers, unsure of why he switched so suddenly. Johnny furrowed his brows, staring at her in disgust. "Just left me, I called-fuck-, every fuckin' day, and you stopped pickin' up," his voice became hoarse, and she noticed his eyes becoming glossy. "Like I was fuckin' nothing,"

His thrusts became brutal. "Every. Fucking. Day," each word paired with a harder and harder thrust. His hand still tightly gripped her neck. She almost couldn't handle it, she stared at Johnny as a warm feeling began to pool in her stomach.

Tears began falling from Johnny's eyes right onto her face, and his thrusts became jagged as he was nearing the end. "I fucking love you," a loud moan escaped his lips as he came deep inside of her. His anger came to a boiling point, he was angry at himself, angry at her.

She was not too far behind, she squeezed her eyes shut as she came hard on his cock, not even caring he finished inside of her. The sound of their combined pants filled the humid room. She peeked her eyes open, Johnny was staring at her, his face red and his eyes glossy. She reached out a hand to cup his cheek but he grabbed her wrist instead. "You ain't leavin' again," he growled out.

"Johnny...I'm not stayin' for that much longer," her eyes widened, slowly realizing the situation she had gotten herself into. A grin spread across his face. "Nah, you're stayin' right here with me, doll,"

#johnny slaughter #johnny tcm game #texas chainsaw massacre #tcm #tcm game #johnny slaughter x reader #johnny slaughter smut #bitterpotionnfics

[newyorkthegoldenage]

Woody Guthrie serenading New Yorkers on a subway train, 1943. The sign on his guitar reads, “This machine kills fascists.”

Photo:  Eric Schaal for Life magazine via Index.hu

#New York #NYC #vintage New York #1940s #Eric Schaal #Woody Guthrie #subway #folk music #folk musicians #troubedour #guitar #anti-fascism #guitar player

[sanaxo-o]

so… about serenade? 👀

*sighs* very very cute lemme show you a snippet hehe

Special tag for @littleroaes Dora because ik you’re curious 💃👯‍♂️

#the boyz #tbz #moots 💗 #Moon 🌑 #Eric Sohn #WIP ⚠️ #serenade Eric

[shoheiakagi]

what your favorite homra boy says about you:

Mikoto: you want someone hot and masculine, but you’re also someone who’s happy with the bare minimum of being acknowledged with a grunt

Kusanagi: you want a man. a man who knows what he’s doing. a man who can wine and dine you. a man who doesn’t believe in paying 50/50 for dates

Totsuka: you like guys who aren’t afraid to be soft and serene, serenading you with his melodious voice and delicate features, while he gets away with whatever he wants. you also really like femboys

Yata: you love the angry bad boy with a soft side just for you, or you love a feisty boy who gets all red and shy when he’s squirming under you

Kamamoto: you want a boyfriend who supports your rights and your wrongs. a partner who enjoys cooking and eating with you. someone who probably ghosts you for his friends tbh

Akagi: you want a golden retriever bf with a rebellious edge. you also seem to have a thing for boys with messy hair tucked under baseball caps and a sense of adventure

Bandou: you like the brooding type with dark hair who’s also brash, insecure, and easy to dominate. the tsundere type who rolls his eyes at you with a blush on his face

Chitose: you either want to have a fun time and live your hot girl summer or you’re a masochist because you think you can fix broken boys

Dewa: you like the brooding type with dark hair (x2), but with a higher self esteem and the fashion sense of a 2013 transplant moving to nyc with their parent’s trust fund money

Eric: you like your boys to be emotionally vulnerable so that you can easily manipulate them, or you just like boys with a sassy tongue and a sharp knife

Fujishima: you value stability and warmth and would rather grow old with tons of fur babies than an actual human baby

#homra #k project #suoh mikoto #kusanagi izumo #totsuka tatara #yata misaki #kamamoto rikio #akagi shouhei #bandou saburouta #chitose yo #dewa masaomi #eric soult #fujishima kosuke #mine

[escapingrealityforamoment]

Hi! I was wondering if you can do headcannons of what dating jonah and prince eric would be like? Or even being married to them would be like?

Thank you! :)

Absolutely 😁🙊

Dating Jonah Hauer-King:

• Adventure Partners: Jonah has a spontaneous and adventurous spirit. Dating him means embarking on thrilling escapades together, exploring new places, and trying new experiences.

• Endless Laughter: Jonah has a great sense of humor, and being with him means constant laughter. He'll always find a way to make you smile, even during the toughest of times.

• Deep Conversations: Jonah is an insightful and thoughtful person. He loves engaging in deep conversations about life, dreams, and the world around you. Your relationship will be intellectually stimulating and meaningful.

• Supportive Nature: Jonah is incredibly supportive and will always be your biggest cheerleader. Whether it's pursuing your dreams or facing challenges, he'll be there to encourage and uplift you every step of the way.

• Musical Moments: With Jonah's musical background, your relationship will be filled with impromptu singing sessions, heartfelt serenades, and dancing like nobody's watching.

• Romantic Gestures: Jonah is a romantic at heart. Expect sweet surprises, candlelit dinners, and heartfelt gestures that will make you feel loved and cherished.

• Trust and Respect: Jonah values trust and respect in a relationship. He will always prioritize open communication and create a safe space where both of you can freely express your thoughts and feelings.

Dating Prince Eric:

• Chivalry and Gentleness: Prince Eric is a true gentleman. He'll open doors, pull out chairs, and treat you with the utmost respect and kindness. His gestures of chivalry will make you feel like a princess.

• Oceanic Adventures: As a sailor, Prince Eric has a deep love for the sea. Your dates might involve sailing, exploring hidden coves, or strolling along the beach at sunset. You'll share a mutual appreciation for the ocean's beauty.

• Romantic Dates: Expect romantic and enchanting dates with Prince Eric. From picnics in picturesque gardens to candlelit dinners in castle courtyards, he'll go above and beyond to create memorable experiences for both of you.

• Patience and Understanding: Prince Eric is patient and understanding, allowing you the space and time you need to share your thoughts and feelings. He'll listen attentively and provide comfort and support when you need it most.

• Loyal and Protective: Prince Eric's loyalty knows no bounds. He'll always prioritize your well-being and protect you from any harm. His unwavering devotion will make you feel safe and secure.

• Emotional Connection: Prince Eric is a compassionate and empathetic person. Your relationship will be built on a strong emotional connection, with heartfelt conversations and shared vulnerabilities.

• Unconditional Love: Prince Eric believes in true love and will love you unconditionally. He sees beyond external appearances and values the beauty within your heart. Your relationship will be filled with profound love and devotion.

Being Married to Jonah Hauer-King:

• Adventure and Creativity: Jonah's adventurous spirit and creative energy would bring a sense of excitement to your married life. From impromptu trips to exploring new hobbies together, he would constantly inspire you to embrace new experiences.

• Supportive Partner: Jonah would be your biggest cheerleader, always supporting your dreams and encouraging you to pursue your passions. Whether it's a new career path or a personal goal, he would be there to lift you up and provide unwavering support.

• Playful Banter: With Jonah's quick wit and playful nature, your marriage would be filled with lighthearted banter and laughter. You'd have your inside jokes and enjoy teasing each other, creating a fun and joyful atmosphere in your relationship.

• Creative Collaborations: Being married to an actor like Jonah would open up opportunities for creative collaborations. You might find yourselves working on projects together, sharing ideas, and inspiring each other's artistic pursuits.

• Romantic Gestures: Jonah would have a knack for romance, surprising you with thoughtful gestures and heartfelt surprises. Whether it's a candlelit dinner, handwritten love letters, or spontaneous date nights, he would ensure that the spark of romance is always alive in your marriage.

Being Married to Prince Eric:

• Royalty and Elegance: Being married to Prince Eric would immerse you in a world of royalty and elegance. Your life would be filled with grand events, formal gatherings, and a touch of regal charm.

• Strong Partnership: Prince Eric would value your opinions and insights, treating you as an equal partner in your marriage. He would rely on your support and trust your judgment, fostering a strong and equal partnership.

• Serene Moments by the Sea: As a prince with a deep connection to the sea, you and Eric would often find solace and tranquility near the water. Walks along the beach, private boat rides, and picnics by the shore would be cherished moments of peace and serenity.

• Commitment and Loyalty: Prince Eric would embody commitment and loyalty in your marriage. He would prioritize your happiness and ensure your safety and well-being are paramount, creating a sense of security and trust in your relationship.

• Fairy Tale Romance: Your marriage with Prince Eric would be like a fairy tale come true. From romantic gestures like dancing under the moonlight to epic declarations of love, he would sweep you off your feet and make you feel like the protagonist of your own love story.

#jonah hauer king #jonah hauer king imagine #prince eric #prince eric imagine #the little mermaid #prince eric live action #jonah hauer king x reader #the little mermaid live action

[that-gay-guy-from-hell]

DMC MASTER LIST

ON GOING QUESTION/POLL (I can't actually make a real poll but I want to know some opinions lmao)

All fics are posted here on my AO3, along with other things (like my personal headcanons).

VERGIL ONE-SHOTS:

Stubborn as Always--G/N, Fluff

Si vis amari ama--G/N, Fluff, Minor Angst

Uncontrolled Instincts--Male, Smut, Rut fic.

Sweet Serenade--G/N, Smut (? Vergil "self pleasuring")

Good Morning, my Love--G/N, Smut (Consensual somnophilia)

Tapestry of Leather--G/N, Fluff, Lime (god I'm old)

Student and Teacher--G/N, Flirty Fluff

The Bed of the Blue Devil--G/N, Smut, Rut fic.

As You Wish (Part 2)--G/N, Smut

As You Wish (Part 1)--G/N, Fluff

Despite Your Flaws--G/N, Sad Fluff

What Would They Think--G/N, Angst/Sad, Fluffy Comfort

Without You--G/N, Angst/Sad, Fluffy Comfort

A Devil's Secret Wingman--G/N, Fluff

Phantoms of the Past--Male, Angst, Fluff?

DANTE ONE-SHOTS:

Rough Day?--Male, Fluff

I've Got You--G/N, Fluff, Overprotective Dante

Where There's a Will, Right?-- Male, Angst (kinda), Fluff, Smut; Dante between 2-4

Stuck in a Rut--G/N, Smut, Rut fic.

Deep Regret--Male, Sad, Fluff

A Valentine's to Remember--Male, Fluff, Smut

Song of the Heart--G/N (w/anxiety), Fluff

NERO ONE-SHOTS:

No One Else Can Have You--Male, Smut, Power Bottom Nero, Top Reader, Pre-4 Nero

Wanting--G/N, Smut

Fear of the Devil--G/N, Comfort, Fluff

The Scent of You--Male, Smut

V ONE-SHOTS:

Lineaments of Gratified Desire--G/N, Smut, Handjob (V receiving)

Stuck in a small hiding spot + Injured V (short one-shot answers)

MULTIPLE/OTHER ONE-SHOTS:

Bound by Blood: Reader & Sparda Bloodline (Platonic; comfort, angst, fluff)

STUPID THOUGHTS THAT RELATE TO DMC:

Sin Devil Trigger Vergil's tail

Vergil only has 2 things to his name

Me at Vergil when I found out about Devil May Cry

Screenshot ruining my Bloody Palace run

Vergil right after V and Urizen merge appreciation post

"Bound by Blood" re-write excerpts (semi-gory warning)

"I think I'm pretty good at playing Vergil"

Ebony & Ivory replicas. Plus, Nero and Dante body pillowcases.

How much can the Sparda bloodline lift??

Thoughts while writing a "Nero x Terminally Ill reader" fic

Vergil and Lawn Darts

Vergil tiddies

This is why I love the DMC fandom--Comment thread

DMC 2 "Dante" is actually Vergil

Teeth!

Why do Dante and Vergil in DMC5 look so different?

Can the Sparda-bloodline dance?

Kneeling Vergil

Vergil being sick but also stubborn

Do it for him

A really good Nero x G/N Reader fic (that's not mine) and why my dumbass commented lmao

Eric and Vergil

Vergil's autistic

Sparda twins and leg gaiters

Aro/Ace Dante?

SHOP LAYOUT MAP

ART:

MLP Dante

Semi-spicy Dante (Mature label)

Drifting in the ocean all alone

GOOGLE DRIVE MASTERLIST OF PROMPTS/IDEAS THAT I'LL BE DOING.

Requests are currently closed; I have WAYYY TOO MANY. It might be a while before I reopen them; thank you so much for the support!!

A quick shameless self-plug--I also have a fan-character-based story as well if y'all would consider giving it a look, I'd really appreciate it. It is both here, @adevilsfolly , and on AO3

#devil may cry #oneshot #masterlist #dmc dante #dmc vergil #dmc nero #dmc v #devil may cry dante #devil may cry vergil #devil may cry nero #devil may cry v #dante x reader #vergil x reader #nero x reader #v x reader #dante x g/n reader #vergil x g/n reader #nero x g/n reader #v x g/n reader #vergil x male reader #dante x male reader #nero x male reader #v x male reader #devil may cry 5 #reposted from my ao3 #fluff #smut #angst #comfort fluff #fan fic

[blueskyandpudding]

the nightingale symbolism in the relationship between Crowley and Aziraphale

"Do you hear that? ... No nightingales."

The nightingale is a metaphor that has been associated with Crowley and Aziraphale's love story from the beginning. In season 1, during their romantic dinner at the Ritz, the love song "A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square" played, accompanied by God's narration:

"While they were eating, for the first time ever, a nightingale actually did sing in Berkeley Square. Nobody heard it over the noise of the traffic. But it was there right enough."

“That certain night, the night we met,

There was magic abroad in the air,

There were angels dining at the Ritz

And a nightingale sang in Berkeley Square.”

The finale of Good Omens season 1 brought the song's lyrics to life with angels dining at the Ritz.

This love song, written in 1939 during World War II by Eric Maschwitz, music by Manning Sherwin and sung sweetly by Tori Amos in the film, evokes memories of a couple's first meeting, where the narrator imagines hearing the nightingale's song in Berkeley Square – a rare and magical occurrence.

The nightingale imagery has existed in art and literature for ages, symbolizing the arrival of spring, the serenade of the night, or accompanying mourning, later becoming a symbol of love. In English literature, the nightingale is often paired with the lark, one sings at night, while the other sings at dawn. For instance, in Romeo and Juliet, after spending the night together, the two lovers hear a bird's song and debate whether it's a nightingale or a lark, which ultimately symbolising their differences due to their families opposition.

In the context of the song and the show, the nightingale's song, a rare sound in modern-day London, becomes a symbol of the celestial love beyond the chaos of war or the division between Aziraphale's and Crowley's affiliations.

The moment Crowley leaves after confessing his feelings and abruptly returns to ask Aziraphale if he heard anything and kisses the angel, it's like his final attempt to evoke the most magical moment in their relationship (saving the Earth from Armageddon and then enjoying a luxurious dinner at the Ritz without interference from Heaven or Hell). It showcases the wonder of their goodness as they follow their hearts' guidance, even when no authority acknowledges it, much like the nightingale's song that was there but unnoticed.

When Crowley gets into his Bentley, the car itself starts playing "A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square", but he deliberately turns off the music before driving aimlessly. Before leaving, he glances at Maggie and Nina, continuing with their own life without being together for the ordinary, objective, and practical reasons. Life goes on, and the Earth quietly turns; there's no other choice but to keep living.

The scene where both of them stand looking at each other, the music of the love song resonates again. The song's ending marks the moment the lovers bid each other goodnight with a kiss, departing into the night, and their date lives on as a beautiful memory. The angel and the demon part ways like the couple in the musical notes.

The nightingale may be in hibernation, but the brokenness in the music may foreshadow that one day it will be played again.

Complete, tender, and intact as it was from the beginning.

#good omens #ineffable husbands #aziraphale x crowley #crowley x aziraphale #azicrow #anthony j crowley #meta #nightingale #a nightingale sang in berkeley square #good omens 2 #blueskyandpudding

[thatseventiesbitch]

Hi!! I would love to hear what you think Donna's consistent main flaws are since people accuse the writers of making her too perfect?! I kind of love that Eric the 'softer' one in that relationship - it's a great subversion of gender roles, especially for that era!

Thanks for the question! I enjoyed answering it - it turned into a little essay.

Donna's Flaws

Donna, like all of the main characters, has flaws. I don't think she was painted as perfect at all, but rather as a realistic teenage girl experiencing her first serious relationship, the disintegration of her parents' marriage, and the social conflicts of the '70s.

For example, she was not always the best at communicating - especially with Eric. See: S2xE21 "Kelso's Serenade". She and Eric got into a massive argument because she wasn't honest about her feelings, and that she was bothered by him hanging out with his friends instead of her. Or in S3xE15 "Donna's Panties". She tells Jackie:

Why doesn't Eric understand that when I said I'm fine I meant I will be fine... so long as he kisses my ass for two weeks until I'm actually fine? He's like, brain damaged.

Donna expects Eric to read her mind, and then gets upset with him when he doesn't. Is it annoying? Yes. A flaw? Yes. Also highly relatable, especially for high school relationships? Also yes. Plus, Red and Kitty have shades of this in their relationship, too.

Another flaw? Donna's stubborn. (So is Eric)

In S3xE11 "Who Wants It More", Donna is the one who breaks their impasse and initiates sex at the end of the episode, but when Eric starts to gloat about winning their competition she's willing to walk away rather than admit she gave in first. In S7xE23 "Take It Or Leave It", she's upset by Eric's decision to go to Africa without talking to her, so she makes up a fake date with one of her co-workers to try to make Eric jealous/rethink his choice. In S5xE9 "Black Dog", she fights with Eric throughout the entire episode about whether it's better to give your partner attention/extra love when they're upset, or space. Etc.

And lastly, despite everything she outwardly projects, Donna ends up being a fairly dependent character. Is this a flaw? Not necessarily. It's just an interesting dichotomy - Donna yearns to be fiercely independent and seems to inherently value that, but at the core of who she is, she's not.

Unlike Kelso she doesn't enjoy the California beaches, but instead is miserable all summer until Eric arrives. She accepts Eric's proposal (in high school!). She doesn't get on the bus - she delays college to stay in Point Place with Eric. She buys the trailer. She waited around in Point Place for a year while Eric was in Africa. She says things like,

"My guidance counselor gave [these college brochures] to me, but I already told him that I'm going wherever you go." (S5xE7 "Hot Dog")

and

"I mean, Eric, I loved [Marquette], and when I was driving home, I was so excited to tell you about it, and then the drive took forever, and I realized that's how far away I'd be from you all the time, and I don't want that. So I'll just tell my dad I want to go to U.W. with you." (S5xE6 "Over The Hills And Far Away")

and

"I don't want you to go. You've always been like, twenty steps away from me my entire life. What am I supposed to do without you?" (S7xE23 "Take It Or Leave It")

I think to dismiss or deny this pattern as "out of character" is to ignore an important part of Donna's characterization: she's really dependent. On Eric, yes. But as soon as she and Eric break-up, what is her modus operandi? To start dating a new boyfriend.

I just think it's interesting, and not often (or ever?) discussed. Worth noting that these instances are most pronounced in the second half of the series, and that Donna wasn't this way in the earlier seasons. What happened midway through the series? Her parents split up/mom abandoned her/her family disintegrated. Hmmm.

#thanks for the ask! #that 70s show #that '70s show #that 90s show #that '90s show #eric and donna #eric x donna #donna pinciotti #eric forman #my essays #ask #answered #anon

[highdefhoetry]

tracklist:

seagirl - king krule, raveena

wading - jhene aiko

oyster - HMLT, eric ryan, julles

seaside adventures - tiffy, city girl

tu - maye

it isn't real - fantasy guys

jellyfish - sunset roller coast, michael seyer

i'm a fish - sunset rollercoaster

past life - tame impala

wet dream - breakbot

wave of you - surfaces

give me up - emotional oranges, kiana lede

a muse - dvsn

killing me - omar apollo

endlessly - omar apollo

serenade of water - men i trust

blue dream - jhene aiko

tremendous sea of love - passion pit

mermaid - sade

#rafayel #love and deepspace #love & deepspace #this is what i've been doing instead of writing sorry y'all skjhfjs