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lovebugism · 2 months

Note

hi! can i request shy/innocent reader who blushes at any sex talk, but one day she shows up covered in hickies that she didn’t notice and eddie, robin and the gang are grilling her trying to find out who shes with and steve’s just standing in the corner like🧍‍♂️

ty for requesting :D — the gang finds a hickey on you during movie night (shy!fem!r, fluff, 1.3k)

Slasher films, Eddie tells you, are just excuses to make the goriest, raunchiest movies known to man. But that’s why they’re so good! he exclaims like a giddy teenage boy before sliding the bulky VHS into the tape player.

Your stomach’s been in knots about it since. You’re made of something more delicate than that — not particularly built for gruesome horror — but you swallow down your worrying anyway.

Robin’s smacking on gummy worms at your feet, Eddie hasn’t stopped smiling since he sat down beside you, and Steve’s got one toned arm wrapped tightly around your shoulder. The combination of familiarity takes your mind off the whole thing when you threaten to scare yourself about it.

A half-hour in, and the scariest thing you’ve seen so far, is an overtly theatric sex scene. You only get a glimpse of the static nudity before a clammy, ringed hand splays itself over your eyes. It doesn’t save you from the high-pitched squealing and gruff moans, though, so you’re not entirely sure it’s doing much.

“What are you doing?” you ask Eddie through quiet giggles.

“This shit’s gross,” he answers, muffled through the candy in his cheek. “You don’t need to be watchin’ stuff like this.”

Your brows furrow beneath his palm. “I’m not a child, Eds.”

“Yeah, but you’re too pure! I wouldn’t feel right if I just let you watch it!”

Steve returns from the kitchen then, with a bowl of refilled popcorn in hand. He scoops a handful into his mouth and scolds through the mouthful. “Eddie. Leave her alone.”

The pale hand slips from your face when the scene ends — the climax sufficiently interrupted by a serial killing, chainsaw weilding psycho. The wild-haired boy scoffs. “Jeez! Sorry for trying to take care of your girlfriend, Harrington!”

“I do that on my own. I don’t need your help, freak,” Steve retorts, unthinking, before plopping down beside you and shoveling another handful of popcorn into his mouth.

All three of you glance at him with unwavering stares. He blinks back at you for a moment until the realization hits him. Rolling his chocolate eyes, he grouses, “Not like that, you pervs.”

Eddie grins. “Oh, so it’s not like that, then?” he wonders in a teasing lilt.

“Well,” Steve shrugs, trying and failing to hide his smirk. “I mean, obviously it is, but—”

“Steve…” you waver in an inaudible whine, shrinking back into the couch, hoping it’ll swallow you whole.

The boy seems confused by your sudden sheepishness. He’s never been shy about anything in his life. “I’m just saying!” he chuckles. “I’m your boyfriend. I take care of you. That’s, like, my whole job… One that I do very well, might I add.”

Robin grumbles while Steve and Eddie laugh like a couple of teenage boys. She rises from her comfy spot on the carpet and reaches for your hand. She pulls you into the kitchen behind her and calls to them over her shoulder. “You guys are such freaks, you know that?”

——————

Tired and slightly tipsy, you stand with Steve on his back porch. A cigarette hangs loosely from his plush lips. His chiseled jaw tightens every time he takes a drag. The sight of him is impossible to look away from.

“You don’t think I take care of you?” he blurts before blowing smoke from his mouth. The wisps disappear beneath the starry velvet sky.

“Huh?”

“Earlier. When Eddie was making that stupid joke,” the boy explains, snuffing the cig out in the ashtray on the railing. He glances at you with sparkling honey eyes, half beneath his lashes, before turning away again. Almost shy. “I said it was my job to take care of you or whatever, and you just… Kinda grumbled about it. Like you don’t think I do or something.”

Your chest stings.

“Of course you do!” you answer sheepishly. “It’s just… hard for me to talk about, I guess. In front of Eddie and Robin and everything…”

“Oh,” he hums, nodding with his pink lips softly pouted. When the realization passes, he bites back a bashful beam. “So… you do think I take care of you, then?”

You roll your eyes, still impossibly shy. You know that he knows that answer now — he just wants to hear you say it. “Obviously…” you murmur with a quiet smile you try hard to keep hidden.

“Good,” he says to himself, nodding like he’s proud. “That’s good…”

You’re not sure how, but you end up squished between his body and the deck railing in record time. Steve kisses the breath from your lungs with lips tasting of nicotine, cola, and sour candy. His golden hands dig into your hips while his mouth trails to your jaw.

You twist your hands in the strands of his silky chestnut hair as his plush lips lock with your thrumming pulse. A sigh spills from your mouth at the tingling feeling — warm and wet, then stinging for a moment. Steve runs his tongue over the bruise he left there.

“Don’t leave a mark,” you scold in a slurred whine.

His chuckle fans across your neck before he parts from you. The lovebite is hardly noticeable now, just beginning to blossom beneath your jaw. “I think it might be a little too late for that, babe,” he teases with lidded eyes.

The backdoor slides open before Steve can kiss you again. Eddie stumbles out with a cigarette hanging between his lips. Robin nearly runs into the back of him when the boy stops suddenly in his tracks. His chocolate eyes flit between the two of you, now separated and trying to play it cool.

“…Are we interrupting something?” he murmurs through the stick in his mouth.

Steve shrugs and puts his hands on his hips, so not cool. “What? No. What are you— What are you even doing out here?”

The lighter clicks. “…Smoking?”

He glances at Robin, then. Her ocean eyes widen as she shrugs. “I just didn’t wanna be left out,” she murmurs in an answer to his silent question.

“Fair enough.”

Eddie squeezes between you and Steve, clumsy and unknowing. He glances at you innocently once, then again with suspicious, squinted eyes. “Is that a bruise?” he wonders before turning away to exhale the smoke from his lungs.

Your chest wrenches. “Huh?” you hum with pinched brows.

“You have a bruise on your neck,” he tells you, pointing a ringed finger to the blooming mark Steve left some minutes ago now. “What happened?”

He says it like he’s concerned. Like he’s worried something had happened to you. The possibility of it being a hickey doesn’t even cross his mind — ‘cause you’re just too pure for that.

You shrug and start to stammer, somehow less cool than the overtly uncasual boy on Eddie’s other side. “I don’t know. It’s probably just... The lighting or something.”

His fluffy brows pinch together as his eyes dart over your face. You’re visibly flustered, lips softly swollen and shining with spit. He looks at Steve next and finds the boy looking much of the same. Only then does he realize what he’s interrupted.

“Eugh!” he groans in disgust, features screwed-up and puppylike.

Steve fights back a laugh. “What?!”

“You guys are a bunch of dirtbags!” Eddie shouts.

“It’s just a hickey, Eds,” the brunette boy says, chuckling before he can help it. “It’s okay. Calm down.”

“Absolutely harlot behavior. Both of you,” he chides, shaking his head until his wild curls sway around his jaw. While the rest of you laugh, he grumbles. “I don’t even feel like smoking now. You guys just ruined this cig for me.”

The three of you blink at him when he takes another drag. It takes him a moment too long to register the stares. When he does, he spreads his palms in defense and mumbles through the stick. “Well, I’m not gonna waste it!”

#published by bug #steve harrington x reader #stranger things x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #stranger things #steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfic #st drabbles #stevie drabble

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loveronlineee · 2 years

Text

My Girl Part 1 (Eddie Munson x Reader)

Masterlist All Parts

Eddie Munson x Reader (She/Her)

Warnings: swearing

Synopsis: When Mike visits El and the Byers in California, the last person he expected to meet was Eddie’s girlfriend, who apparently exists.

Y/N notes: none

I was originally gonna call this one “The Dungeon Mistress” but that sounded WAY kinkier than I wanted it to be

Request for @maltinonka ! I loved this idea and yes there will absolutely be a part 2 to this one

Wanna be on the Eddie Munson tag list? Look here!

Wanna request something? Look here!

The Byers got back to theirs after meeting Mike at the airport. El had been talking excitedly about her plan for the day non stop and everyone but Mike was ready to get out.

Jonathan took the keys to the front door out of his pocket and began walking up the pathway, the rest of the gang behind him. He spotted his neighbour sitting on her porch and waved.

“Hey Y/N!” He greeted. She looked up from playing her bass and smiled.

“Oh hey guys!” Mike squinted at her as they walked. Something about her vibe seemed strangely familiar. He just couldn’t put his finger on it.

“Hey El who’s that?” He asked, leaning closer to his girlfriend.

“Y/N. She’s our neighbour. She’s really cool.”

“Jonathan and Argyle hang out with her a lot.” Will added. “They pretty much just get high in Jonathan’s room. But yeah like El said, she’s cool.”

“You still up to come round mine later?” The bass player asked the older kids.

“Yeah we just gotta drop Will, Jane and Mike off at the roller rink.” Jonathan replied. That’s when Y/N noticed the unfamiliar face. El linked arms with him and pulled him forward.

“Y/N this is my boyfriend Mike! He’s visiting us for a couple days.” She explained excitedly. Mike waved. Y/N smiled and got up, holding her bass in one hand as she walked over. That’s when Mike saw her shirt.

The Hellfire Club.

He stared in shock and confusion. How the hell did she have that?? It looked faded and worn out. Way older than the one he had. But it was definitely the shirt.

“Hey nice to meet you!” Y/N greeted. She noted the odd look she was getting. “You okay there bud?” She asked, tilting her head slightly.

“W-Where did you get your shirt?” Mike asked, pointing. Y/N looked down at her outfit.

“My shirt? I made it when I was a freshman in high school.”

“… no you didn’t.” Mike stated. Y/N pulled a face.

“Yeah? I did? I designed it too. It was for a club me and my boyfriend were starting-“

“Boyfriend?” Mike repeated in disbelief. No. She couldn’t be. He couldn’t have. No way.

“Yeah it was a-“

“A D&D club?” Y/N stopped.

“How did you?…” Her eyes widened. “Where are you from Mike?”

“Hawkins, Indiana.”

“NO FUCKING WAY!” She screamed and jumped. Pointing at him as she came back down. “You go to my old high school???”

“Yeah!! And I’m in the Hellfire club!!!” Mike matched her energy. Y/N looked at the Byers family.

“Why did you guys never tell me you were from Hawkins too???”

“You never asked!” Jonathan spluttered. They all seemed too shocked to properly speak.

“Wait. You dated Eddie Munson???” Mike asked, pulling a face.

“Dude I still do!”

“What?!” Mike exclaimed, making Y/N laugh.

“Wow great to know he talks about me then.” She said sarcastically. She looked back at El. “Jane I’m borrowing your boyfriend for a minute!”

“Where are we going?” Mike asked. Y/N grabbed his wrist.

“Come here kid.”

She led him inside her house and to her room. Mike had never seen Eddie’s place but he wouldn’t be surprised if it looked exactly like Y/N’s. Dark, messy, walls covered in band posters.

Y/N hung her bass back on her wall. Kissing her fingers and gliding them across the strings before going to kneel by her bed. She pulled out a shoe box from underneath and lifted the lid. Mike sat on the floor with her as she began to go through the pieces of paper inside.

“I moved to Cali for college last year. I’m lucky my uncle lives here so I don’t have to worry about housing. Eddie and I have been sending each other letters since I left Hawkins. Here.”

Y/N began handing them from the box to Mike as she continued to look through them all.

Mike took the letters and started reading. They were all from Eddie, dates going back over the past two years. He got to the one at the end of the pile. The paper was crumpled and torn in places. He could just about read it.

My girl, Y/N.

You don’t know this yet but I’m writing this before you’ve even left. You’re actually next to me right now, taking a nap. We’re in my van, AC/DC is playing. It’s your favourite song, you know the one.

I’m gonna miss this. I’m gonna miss this so much. We’re not even doing anything and I am having the best time of my life.

What am I actually gonna do when you’re gone?? I have no idea.

I promise I’ll keep Hellfire alive and continue to give the freshman nerds somewhere where they belong. I promise to use all the notes you’ve given me for our campaign. You were always the better DM. I promise to keep playing guitar so we can jam again when you come back. The band’s not gonna be the same without you.

Nothing’s gonna be the same without you.

Once I graduate, I’m running like hell outta Hawkins and straight to you.

Wait for me. I love you.

Eddie

“Wow. I had no idea Eddie could be so sappy.” Mike chuckled.

“That boy is full of surprises.” Y/N said with a loving smile. “So how’s my weirdo doing? Does he still jump up on the tables at lunch and yell things?”

“Yeah, yeah he does.” Mike chuckled again.

“Well it was much more annoying when it was both of us up there and we’d be dancing from table to table.”

“Eddie dances?” Mike asked in disbelief.

“Only with me.” Y/N shrugged. “We’d do anything to piss off those jocks. They hated us way before we did any of that shit anyway.”

“Yeah sounds about right.” Mike nodded. “This guy Jason is the worst.”

“Jason Carver?” Y/N asked.

“Yeah you know him?”

“Yeah I know the little shit. He acts like he’s king of the fuckin’ world. I bet he’s worse now that he’s a senior. He had this girlfriend, Chrissy, sweet little thing. Way too good for him.”

“They’re still dating.” Y/N made a disgusted noise as Mike handed her the letters back. She took out a Polaroid from the box before placing the letters down. She smiled at it fondly then handed it to Mike.

The photo was of her and Eddie at her graduation. Eddie was grinning as Y/N’s arms were wrapped around him, kissing his cheek. Mike turned it over to read the message on the back.

You get the fuck outta here and never look back. I’m right behind ya babe.

Mike suddenly felt a twinge of sadness.

“Y/N?” He said.

“Yeah?”

“When’s the last time you were in Hawkins?”

“The day after that picture was taken.”

“Wha- really? So you haven’t been back to visit in the last year and a half??” Y/N shrugged.

“We always planned to get out of that shitty town and never go back. Besides, plane tickets aren’t cheep. The only reason I’m even in California is because my Uncle said he would look after me.” Mike could see she was sad too, really.

“… don’t you miss him?”

“More than anything in the world.” Y/N said softly. She looked over that the calendar hanging on her wall. “Mike, when are you going back home?”

“Next Saturday.” Y/N got up and looked closer at the dates. She mumbled to herself.

“Well I don’t have anything due around that time… and I’ve got some money saved up…fuck it.” She turned back around. “You wanna see Eddie loose his collective shit?”

Mike grinned, standing back up.

“Uh yeah?” He replied, like she even had to ask that question.

“Well then, I’ve got a plane ticket to buy.”

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#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #reader x Eddie Munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #st eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #edddie munson #stranger things #stranger things x reader #stranger things season four #stranger things season 4 #stranger things imagine #stranger things spoilers #reader x stranger things

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puckarchives · 4 months

Text

basement yard conversations: l. hughes

blurb: in which you overhear luke say that you’re much more attractive than him while he’s talking to jack and quinn. / word count: 1.7k / pairing: luke hughes x fem!reader

The conversation had taken place on the back deck of the Hughes Family lake house, and to be fair, you don’t think you were supposed to be particularly privy to it. It was nearing almost 11 PM at night, and you had just come out of the shower— clean and sun kissed and reveling in the after effects of a day well spent out in the sun with your favorite boy and your favorite family.

This was the second summer you had spent with Luke, and by default, the entire Hughes gang as they took a much deserved rest in the off-season, now that both the Devils and Canucks had ended their seasons. So, with you being off from college and the boys not starting their training for at least two more weeks, you had opted to spend some time at the lake house in Michigan.

That particular day, you had spent most of your morning (and afternoon, if you were being honest,) out on the lake, simply laying on the boat or joining in when the boys began wakeboarding— falling a few times, but ultimately being able to hold your own before Luke had jumped in with you, and caused you both to go tumbling into the water.

From the boat, you could hear both Jack and Quinn laughing at you and Luke, both of you making your way over to where they had stilled in order to let you reboard, and where Luke readied himself to begin his turn— which didn’t last long, as he began swaying to the point where he just simply fell over.

Once the four of you had come back in, it was straight to the shower for you— a moment to wash off the lake water and reapply aloe vera before your skin began to get dry.

Walking towards the back porch, you could see the boys huddled around the fire pit— Jack and Quinn sitting in their designated chairs, and Luke in a larger seat, waiting for you with a blanket in his hand. As you walked closer however, and before you could open the screen door, you overheard a snippet of their conversation— something that always surprised you, as their conversations could exist on a spectrum of simply talking about dinner plans, to them arguing over who the most problematic Pokémon character they played with growing up; currently, Charizard was in the lead because, as Luke had stated a few weeks prior, you can’t spell the world ‘Charizard’ without ‘hazard,’ an explanation that still made no sense to you, but that the boys had agreed to almost immediately.

Stilling at the fragments you could piece together, you could hear Jack repeating that he “definitely did have it,” but that for him, “it was louder than it was for Quinn.” You didn’t know exactly what “it” was referring to, but quickly pieced together your answer as Quinn spoke up.

“It’s like, the internet thinks I have no rizz. I got called a fucking wet cat the other day,” he said, waving his hands around. It was true— you had seen the tweet first, and then sent it to Luke, who promptly sent it into their group chat. So that’s what they were talking about— rizz.

Although you didn’t know exactly how that had come up— when you left, they were discussing the intricacies of Zegras’ worst choices— it was still a novelty to take in— the way that Quinn would talk in his broody way, only exacerbated by the winces he would occasionally give off because of his gnarly sunburn, whereas Jack was all excited hand movement and loud laughs. But it was your boy, specifically, who had all of your attention— Luke’s soft smirk on his lips, the way he would wait until either boy was finished talking before including his own thoughts, and the way he would keep egging on his brothers. However, you didn’t miss the way he would open his mouth to say something, but automatically be either shut down, or have to wait for another turn to avoid interrupting his brothers. While Luke may have been a killer on the ice, he was still the youngest brother— caught up in trying to work his hardest to be on the same level as his brothers, but still always beating himself up for it.

You didn’t think there had been a day where Luke went without comparing one thing about himself to his older brothers— whether it be simple comments about how he needed to get faster in order to compete with Quinn’s own speed, or even have better hand-eye coordination in order to keep up with Jack, it was always something that he lacked, and he never paid attention to the things he did have— things that you loved about him, like the way he would always bring his brother’s up in conversation— always with a smile on his face, and always reminiscing on their childhoods. He never spoke ill of anyone, (even when they deserved it,) and when he had hurt another player on the ice a few weeks back he had made it a point to apologize personally, and even send them a card. Luke, for all the faults he saw in himself, had one-hundred times the good parts, even when he didn’t recognize them.

It was the next few sentences, however, that caught your attention; now, the conversation had switched over from Jack and Quinn’s respective levels of charmism and ability to, as they so eloquently put it, “pull and have game,” to Luke’s, he looked down, still with a small smirk on his face, and played with his thumbs.

“Well, you see her,” Luke said. “She's definitely much more attractive than me, and if anything, I have the rizz because she was strong enough to get my head out of my ass and see that she had been there the entire time,” he laughed.

His brothers only egged him on, adding in moments where they saw Luke, quote on quote, ‘have game,’ including earlier that same day, when the four of you were out on the boat. When you had been putting together the coolers for the boys to lug on to the boat, Luke hadn’t missed a beat and, while you were chopping up pieces of fruit on the kitchen island, had flirted with you like he had never met you before, and hit on you.

“Well hello, pretty lady,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows, and flexing his arms above his back. He puffed out his chest in a mock bravado, and continued. “You come here often? Because you’re a sight for sore and beautiful eyes,” he said, scooting closer to you. For as cheesy as he was, Luke loved doing this— hitting on you as if you were two teenagers in the 80’s, and as if he hadn’t been your boyfriend for the past two years.

“You know, I’d love to take you out on the boat sometime, if you’re free? I’ll even let you drive it if we leave your boyfriend on the shore,” he said, now with his arms actually up, and him, (once again,) flexing. God, you’re boy was a total softie.

Your only response was heaving laughter, as anytime Luke got like this it only brought a smile on your face. “Well, sir, my boyfriend would surely be disappointed in me if I just left him on the shore” you jokingly replied. “And besides, he’s old. I’m not sure his fragile heart could take it if I just up and left,” you said, before closing the cooler and making your way outside.

Luke scrambled after you, only to grab the cooler out of your hands, open the door, and drop it right outside. Before you could ask why, he whistled over at Quinn who was waiting for the two of you on the deck, and scooped you up in his arms, before making his way to the dock, you still laughing, and him looking at you with a look of pure adoration, and, in your opinion— full of love.

Now, however, as you stood on the other side of the screen door, you opened it, automatically calling all three heads to look in your direction, and, as you walked towards Luke who had his arms open to you, said: “No, Luke’s definitely lying. This man has ALL the rizz. How do you think he keeps me coming back over-and-over for more?” you asked the other two, giving your boyfriend a kiss on the forehead as you stood between his legs and pet his still-wet curls.

“He can say that I’m the one who got him to notice me, but your brother? The ultimate rizz king,” you laughed, trying to mimic what you heard the gamers on TikTok say about rizz the other day.

“But, to settle your debate once and for all, I have literal proof of who has the most rizz,” you announced, to which the other two Hughes brothers cheered and egged you on to show them. Pulling up Twitter on your phone, you scrolled through your favorited tweets before getting to one that had made you bust out laughing only days prior, but that labeled what kind of “rizz” each Hughes brother had.

“According to this tweet, a certifiable source if I’ve ever seen one,” you joked, “Quinnjamin Hughes has the rizz level of a wet cat you want to take home, and of a man that just makes your “I CAN FIX HIM” fever go crazy, Jacket Hughes has the rizz of a man who had a borderline homoerotic relationship and a praise kink all in one, and Lucas Warner Hughes has the rizz of a man who will always shoot up and knows it,” you finished.

As you closed your phone and set it down, you looked up at the faces of the Hughes dynasty around you— Quinn was shaking with laughter, his head in his hands, Jack was wheezing in the corner over you calling Quinn “Quinnjamin” and the way they had gotten all of their names wrong, and Luke despite the jokes, was looking directly at you. He wasn’t laughing like his brother’s, but instead looking at you with the softest smile.

“And don’t I know it, sweetheart,” he said.

#luke hughes x reader #luke hughes #luke hughes imagine #nhl imagine #hughes brothers #new jersey devils #nj devils #jack hughes #quinn hughes

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rumble-aint-a-rumble-without-me · 4 months

Text

Dallas Dating A Curtis!Reader

Buckle up buttercups, this is gonna be fun!

As always, to fit the age bracket, you’re either Soda’s twin, or you were born between Sodapop and Ponyboy

Pick and choose as you see fit, but I’m definitely seeing more opportunity for a Sodapop’s twin sibling-

Anywayyyssssssss

Lemme set the stage a little bit, alright? Cause there’s a bunch of ideas floating around in this brain of mine-

You’ve had a crush on Dal for the longest time and I mean the longest time- ever since he stumbled in with that stupid white blond hair and that stupid New York accent and that stupid little attitude of his- you’d been head over heels

And low and behold, Dallas had been nursing a few feelings for you as well, hiding them a little better than you had been

So of course, y’all flirt and mess around and all the rest of the boys are a little suspicious but you and Dal both deny that there’s anything between the two of you

That changes a few weeks before the Curtises die, you and Dallas go on an official date down to the nightly double (he timed it with your favorite films cause he’s romantic like that) and bada bing bada boom, y’all are dating

But it’s a secret and no one knows but here comes the funeral and you’re holding Dallas’ hand through the whole thing, crying into his shoulder and he’s cradling the back of your head and everyone knows there’s something up

Darry doesn’t like it- not even a little bit- he doesn’t love that you’re dating Dal one smidgeon of a bit

He likes Dal well enough, he’s got to, they’re in the same gang, but like- he knows Dallas well enough too to know that maybe this isn’t the best thing

Dare’s biggest concern is your heart and whether or not Dal’s gonna break it by doing something stupid like fooling around with someone else or getting hauled in for something big and leaving you alone forever

Sodapop’s a little more okay with it? But he’s still a little hesitant, especially when Dally likes to get a little more physical than he needs to

*cough cough* kissing you way past decent under the porch light when he’s dropping you off at home after a date, sliding his hand into your back pocket to keep you close, just generally being Dal and pushing the limits of what is publicly decent *cough cough*

But!

Where the real fun is located is with our dear darling Ponyboy!

It’s canon, I’m pretty sure and I’m pretty confident after reading the book fifty million times, that Ponyboy “doesn’t like” Dally and thinks he’s kinda scary

But at the same time, we all know that boy looks up to Dally too and Dally has a soft spot for him

I’m seeing like- Ponyboy and Johnny and Dallas hanging out, just the three of them, and Dal’s trying to be all nonchalant and stuff, smoking casually as he tries to ask Ponyboy about how you’d like certain things

Dally tries to subtly run almost all his date ideas past Ponyboy before he takes you out because yeah, he really does like you, and sometimes he’s just a little unsure of himself with how much he cares about you

Now. When he gets hauled in, and we know it’s going to happen, let's be honest with ourselves folks, when he gets hauled in, his phone call is going to go to the Curtis house

He’s gonna ask for you and he’s gonna apologize for having to be gone for so long

If I was you? I’d cry, I’d scream, I’d be angry and sad and frustrated because why does he keep making stupid decisions?

But I’m gonna tell you this-

Putting up with stupid decisions and working through tough times like this? It’s gonna be a lot of the relationship, and it’s gonna be pretty prominent in your time with Dally

If that’s not for you? Then maybe, maybe it won’t work out

But that’s alright too! All the more for me :D

#the outsiders #the outsiders headcanons #the outsiders hcs #the outsiders x reader #dillo’s writing #dallas winston #dallas winston x reader

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tomblythismyhusband · 4 months

Text

i hate you [ billy the kid x fem!reader ]

[summary]: billy the kid x fem!cowgirl!reader | You had always hated Billy, ever since you joined the gang of cowboys. You had always assumed he hated you too until he makes a move you never would’ve expected.

[warnings]: 18+, smut, gun play, language, slight blood

[wc]: 2.5k

[note]: [ requests are open please feel free to request any kinda fic]

The low lit glow of the porch casted shadows on the face you couldn’t help but despise. Oh how you hated his smug grin, his brown curls, even his name sent a spike of annoyance up your spine.

“What ya want Billy?” You grumbled, lounging in an old wooden rocking chair. You even hated the way your mouth shaped to welcome the sound of his name.

The sound of cowboys laughing and drinking could be heard from inside the ranch house you were residing at. You were on the run with them, Jesse Evans as the leader.

You had taken a liking to Jesse, he made you feel safe. He would never betray you and you knew that. Trust was not something easy to come by, especially running with a group of outlaws.

Out of all the boys in the group everyone was sweet to you, like real gentlemen, except Billy. Not that you expected it from him, you weren’t the kind of girl who needed to be praised.

The problem with Billy is that he purposely went out of his way to make your life living hell. Stealing your rounds of bullets, giving you dirty looks, and always voicing snide remarks. You weren’t sure what his deal was or what you had done to deserve this.

Of course all his actions earned retaliation back from you. You didn’t shy away from speaking down to him and giving him cold glances in return. He didn’t get to disrespect you like that, you wouldn’t let him, no matter how attractive he was. Which was another thing you hated to admit. How gorgeous he was. His strong jaw, gleaming blue eyes and broad shoulders would be easily admirable if it weren’t for his shitty personality.

Billy strode closer to you, floorboards creaking under his steps. You knew he wanted to intimidate you. You were alone on the porch, the night sky glowing a faint blue. Things never ended well when the two of you were left together, usually one of you ends up injured and the other pissed.

Taking a sharp breath, you tried to calm your already stirring thoughts about snapping at him.

“Whatcha doin out here all alone?” He drawled, eyes glistening with mischief.

“Trying to avoid you, but that clearly ain’t workin.” You mumbled, placing your hand lightly over the gun at your side. You decided you had no time for his bullshit. Not tonight.

He let out a chuckle as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Now what could’ve I done now? I’ve said about 5 words to you.”

He leaned slightly closer. “And really? Reachin’ for your gun already? How mature.”

You felt his eyes peering down at you as you stared out to the night sky, trying to ignore his presence. You let out a deep sigh.

“Are you just here to piss me off or what?” You spat, sitting up now.

Billy threw his hands up, stepping back, an amused look still pulling at his lips . You wanted to slap that smug grin right off his pretty face.

“Woah there cowgirl.” He chuckled as he watched you stand up, shooting him a glare.

“I want to enjoy my evenin’ without you botherin’ me.” You said sharply. You didn’t want to spend a minute longer alone with him.

He gave another chuckle that instantly made your blood boil. “Fuckin’ insane how bitchy you are.”

You brushed off his comment as you angrily strode past him into the house, bumping against his shoulder. You ignored all the hoots and hollers from the guys - they were calling you to join their game of cards but you were uninterested.

You clomped up the wooden stairs, boots feeling heavy after a long day. All you wanted to do was relax and of course Billy had to ruin it all. You didn’t want to see him, hear his raspy voice, or feel his blue eyes on you.

When you got to your room you shut the door and started to pull off your boots. Might as well go to bed. You pulled out your hair from the neat side braid it originally was in, combing through it. You let out a puff of air. Finally your body was starting to relax, your muscles relieving from tension.

You tried to get Billy out of your head. ‘Stop letting him have so much power, he’s just a guy’ You thought to yourself as you sat down in the bed, feeling a bit sleepy.

You were about to lay down when all of a sudden your door swung open, a cowboy stepping inside before shutting the door behind him again. You blinked as rage started to seep in your nerves.

Billy.

Fed up with his shit you pounced up, slamming him against the door, gun drawn. Your arm was placed to his neck while your other hand gripped the handle of your revolver. “What the fuck is it now?” You growled, eyes darting to search his face for any sign of fear.

To your disappointment you found none, only amusement. He always thought everything was so fucking funny. Was this all just a game to him?

His eyes flicked down to your arm which was pressed firmly against his throat. “Sorry jus’ came to talk.” He murmured.

His arms stayed by his side which made you realize he wasn’t fighting back. Why the hell wasn’t he fighting back? If the roles were reversed and he were to do this to you would’ve fought back in an instant.

Your grip on your gun slightly loosened. “About what? I’ve clearly told you I ain’t in a mood for talkin’.”

His eyes met yours, causing conflicting feelings in your body. You could smell the faint stench of whiskey from his breath. Was he drunk? Is that why is came clamoring in here?

“I came to apologize for how I act towards ya.” He said calmly. His usual smug grin was replaced by a serious expression. “I don’t wanna fight anymore.”

You were taken back by his statement, your breath slowing. “What the hell do you mean you're sorry? You’ve been tormentin’ me ever since I joined this gang.”

His intense gaze never left your face. He looked as if he had something he was holding back.

“It’s because I hate you.”

You let out a scoff. “Well I fuckin’ hate you too, glad we have somethin’ in common.”

A smug grin pulled at his lips again. “I hate that all I can ever think about is you.”

All of a sudden your face flooded with heat. The way he had said that sentence was slow, thoughtful, seductive? You felt stunned.

He seemed to enjoy your embarrassment, staring at your eyes as you avoided his gaze.

You leaned in closer finally, your arm still firmly against his neck still as he stood pressed up against the wooden door.

“What are you talking about?” You said in a whisper. His breath tickled your nose. This was definitely the closest you had ever been to him. A part of you honestly enjoyed it.

You felt his hands grab your hips, pulling them flush against his own. You tried to ignore the gun at his side digging into your thigh. Heart thumping, you pushed down the feelings in your tummy as you stared up at him, breath ragged.

“I think you know what I’m talkin’ about. Your clever.” He said quietly.

He was right, you knew exactly what he meant.

“So what? You’ve been crushin’ on me?”

You feel swirly inside. Being this close to him, feeling his hands on you, you should be pushing him away but you aren’t. Why not?

“Trust me. I’ve tried to kill these feelings, doll.” He replied roughly. His fingers tightened their grip around your hips making you gasp. You had lowered your arm from his neck now.

“I thought you hated me.” You said again in disbelief. His smirk grew as he leaned in close to your ear. His breath warmed your cheek as you shuttered.

“I hate how badly I want you.” He whispered.

Your anger had melted away into a feeling you couldn’t understand. Why was he doing this now?

“Wha- Billy are you out of your fucking mind?” You whispered lowly. Pushing out the feelings of lust in your body you took your hand and pushed his head back against the door. He tilted his head, curls brushing over his forehead as he smirked.

“Fine. I’ll leave you be then. Just offerin’.”

You hated this. Hated how you didn’t want him to go. Hated how his words affected you.

He slid his hands off of your hips, giving you a nod. Panicked, you grabbed his hand. It was like your body was under his control.

“Wait Billy. Don’t go.” You whispered.

You hated him. Right? Then why did you feel like this? Why was your stomach fluttering, your breath short, your heart pumping so goddamn loud?

He looked at you, studying your face. “I would never force a woman to do anything she didn't want to do. I’m leaving.”

Did you want him? What was going on? You couldn’t think straight.

“Well what if I do want to?” You asked, a little harsher than you intended.

“Do you fight about every fuckin’ thing, doll?” He groaned, rolling his eyes.

Fed up and full of lust you grabbed his face, mashing your lips against his. It was like your body was moving and acting on its own, why were you kissing the man you’d despised?

Maybe you didn’t hate him as much as you thought.

He let out a surprised gasp into your mouth as he wrapped his arms around your hips, pulling you close to him again. Billy’s lips were soft, inviting, intoxicating.

“Mmmph- Fuck doll.” He mumbled into your lips. You felt his tongue slip into your mouth, deepening the kiss.

You dropped your gun, sending it clacking to the ground as your hands flew up to tangle themselves in his hair. Your eyes were squeezed shut as your mouth molded into his perfectly. Almost too perfectly. It felt as if his lips were made just for you to kiss.

Billy stuck out his knee, placing it between your thighs, digging into your now throbbing cunt. You let out a soft moan tilting your head back as his mouth traveled down your neck.

“Like that, doll?” He teased, his teeth grazing against the skin of your neck. You let out another soft moan as his knee grinded against your clit through the fabric of your clothes.

“I still hate you.” You breathed, though your body was obviously telling a different story.

Billy’s hands slid up your waist, hands under your shirt. You felt his rough hands squeezing and caressing your body as he kissed your neck. As much as you hated to admit it, you were in heaven. You hadn’t been touched like this in so long.

“I need more.” You sighed, as you rode his knee, it wasn’t enough to give you the mind shattering orgasm you so desperately wanted.

You felt Billy nip at your neck, his lips in a small smirk. “Someone’s needy.”

“Billy please.” You begged. You were finally giving in to him, all you wanted was his hands and lips all over you.

He smiled as he moved you backwards so you could walk over and flop down on the bed. You started to frantically undo the buttons of your shirt. Billy was doing the same, sliding his suspenders down his shoulders, pulling off his shirt.

You kept undressing till you were bare, and so was he. Billy’s cock stood erect making your heart beat faster and your thoughts swirl around with desire.

He was gorgeous.

Billy seemed to be looking at your own body, noticing each delicate curve, each scar and bruise.

“Wow doll, you’ve got to walk around naked more often.” He teased, climbing on top of you.

“Your funny.” You replied pulling him closer so his lips were against yours again. The sweet taste of whiskey from his mouth made you feel dizzy as he kissed you harder.

“I need you.” You mumbled into his mouth, tired of just kissing. You needed all of him. Desperately.

“Maybe I should just leave now… leave you a hot mess” He said as you kissed him. You bit his lip at this, making him grunt.

He pulled away from you, wiping his mouth, examining the tiny smear of blood that came from his bottom lip.

“That’s how you want it darlin’?”

He gave a low chuckle, still looking at the blood. He didn’t seem mad, only more turned on. You bit your lip staring up at him. He hooked his arms under your thighs unexpectedly, making you yelp.

With your bare pussy now on display to him he let out a low groan.

You let out muffled whimpers as he prodded his tip at the entrance, making your stomach twist and turn.

“I want to hear you beg.” He said, a smug grin on his face. You scoffed. He couldn’t be serious.

“Billy you-“ You whined before you got rudely cut off again.

“Beg for it cowgirl.” He said fiercely. You felt his hands squeeze your thighs. You wanted him so bad now, you were desperate at this point. So when mumbled begs fell off your lips he smirked in triumph at your submission. You were giddy with anticipation as Billy finally sunk into you.

You let out a soft gasp, as his cock filled your aching cunt. His size was bigger than you expected. You had always assumed he acted like an asshole because he was compensating for having a small dick. Clearly you were wrong.

He started to move in and out of you roughly, stretching you out. He definitely was not going easy on you.

Your hands gripped the sheets as the waves of pleasure coursed through your entire body. Each stroke moving you closer and closer to an orgasm.

“Mm- Fuck- Right there.” You moaned as he pounded into you.

Billy gently set down your legs, shifting your body so his mouth could reach your lips again as he continued to make deep thrusts into you.

“You feel so good.” Billy choked out, his mouth now nipping at your neck.

You felt the knot in your gut tighten and tighten, signaling that you were reaching your limit. Your hands flew up to grip his shoulders, which were already slick with sweat. He moved his cock in and out, hitting your g-spot perfectly. The feeling of his skin against yours was heavenly.

“Billy- I’m-“ You whimpered.

“I know sweetheart, I’m almost there, hold on.” He said gruffly as he thrusted against you even harder. Your body shook violently as pure pleasure pulsed through your nerves. The tightness in your gut melted away as you reached the edge.

Billy felt your cunt squeeze around him as you orgasmed, letting out a muffled cry.

“Oh- Fuck y/n.” Billy moaned. His thrusts became sloppy, his body hot as he pulled away. He came on your belly, creating a mess of warm milky substance.

You both laid there breathing heavily for a moment. Billy was still propped over you, placing his forehead against yours.

“Fuck doll..” He murmured. His eyes flicked around your face as you still laid there shaking and breathless.

Noticing how much you were shaken up Billy’s lips spread into a smirk.

“Well this is one way of shutting you up.” He teased.

He leaned down to kiss you as you mumbled “I Hate you still.” Against his lips.

He pulled back, a smug grin on his face.

“I’ll let you hate me as much as you want darlin’ if this is what it gets me in the end.”

#billy bonney x reader #billy the kid x you #billythekidxreader #billy the kid x reader #billy bonney #billy the kid #billy the kid fanfiction #willam afton #william h bonney #tom blyth x reader #tom blyth #tom blyth fanfiction #fanfic #imagine #billy the kid imagine

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geminibsworld · 5 months

Text

Preachers daughter (one shot *maybe* )

⚠️: daddy!kink (a bit) innocence!kink, pinv, fingering,oral recieving and giving (m & f)

it was a summer afternoon, church was just starting. pearl, the preachers daughter, sat up front smiling proudly, while her father preached about the good lord. her mother sat next to her, pearl looked around. her eyes landing on Jessie's gang, she rolled her eyes turning around to face the front. she was trying to listen to her father when she felt eyes burning into her. she turned around, her red lips agape, as she's met with bluest eyes she's ever seen.

Billy the kid, of course. an outlaw, basically. he had a wild reputation, he'd never kill anyone but he has a reputation. a harlot reputation. every girl and mom had been with billy. pearl could never, she would never allow it.

"Amen!" voices interrupted her, as she turns around clapping and smiling with everyone else. she stood up with her family, her dress sticking to her as it was 90⁰ outside. it was 1982, and things were simple. pearl and her family lived the simple church life. she liked it that way, simple.

"pearl," her father's voice came into peer, she turned and grinned.

"wonderful speech, daddy," her country accent sweet like honey. billy loved your voice, he knew you sounded like honey so you had to taste like honey. billy cleared his throat taking off his hat as he stood behind the family.

"hello.. young man," pearls father tight lipped smile, glared at billy. he didn't care, he knew what people thought.

Billy's hat was in his hands as he was showing respect, pearl smiled to herself behind her family.

"I've heard you need help on your farm, sir," Billy's gruff Texas accent played like a melody in her ears. she gulped, as she felt chills on the hottest day she's felt in awhile.

"well, uh, I don't know-" her father began.

"sir, I'm a hardworker and I can do anything you need, pay me or don't." Billy's pleaded, his voice trying to not sound desperate. truth was he needed work, he needed to take care of his own self too. he needed to eat.

♡

pearl was outside, on the porch watching Billy front a distance as he was shoveling hay. she watched his back, his tall broad frame yet skinny waist. he was strong, his muscles flexed, and he threw his head back taking off his hat and wiping his forehead.

pearl got an idea. she'd bring him water.

pearl walked out in a small white dress, nothing underneath of course, too hot for all that. her parents were already asleep, she felt bad but was so curious at the same time. she walked feeling the soft grass between her toes under her small feet, holding a jug of water. she felt so nervous, she hadn't talked to a lot of boys before, if so they were related due to her father.

she peered into the barn seeing billy, shirtless this time, sitting on the hay wiping his forehead again.

"y'know it's rude to stare," his voice caused her eyes to bug out of her head. she gulped before saying,

"well, you need water," she stated, quietly feeling nervous now. he stood up over her, and stared down at her, he smirked at her nervousness before grabbing the jug outta her hand and drinking while making eyecontact with her. he watched her shake, he almost laughed. so innocent, he thought. he wanted to see her shake in another way.

"thank you, maam," he handed the water back to her, she gulped nodding not making eye contact. billy noticed this.

"why won't you look at me ?" his voice low, causing a feeling to arise in her in her lower belly. she'd never felt that before.

"well, my momma said if I ever so much as look at a man they'll take advantage of me," pearl said, quietly. billy nodded, taking it in.

"well, I would never take advantage of such a pretty girl," his accent thick, and low now.

pearl gulped stepping back, looking at his naked large chest then back to his eyes then anywhere else. billy liked how innocent she was, how she wouldn't look into his eyes, he craved that.

pearl was cleaning up after the service. billy walked by and looked in the stained windows, seeing pearl bent over, he caught a view of her panties. her whole ass was out, and she didn't even notice or so he thought. he decided to walk in when she walked away, he locked the door behind him, quietly. she walked back into the room, she jumped seeing billy.

"h-hi william," she coughed, smoothing down her dress.

"hi, honey," his accent heavy, she shivered when he said that. she shook off her thoughts before asking a question.

"why are you here?" she asked, unsure. billy smiled at her.

"to see my favorite girl of course," pearl looked away, and continued to pick up every Bible.

"I don't think she's here, try again later. normally harlots don't go to church." pearl sneered at him, flipping her long dark hair over her shoulders.

"oh but she is," he stepped towards her, too close, she thought. she gulped, looking away continuing on grabbing every Bible.

"she wears little dresses, never a bra, and always wears the most innocent looking panties. but I know she could be my harlot if I touched her in the right place. would you like that, honey?" his accent low, and rough.

her mouth fell open, she was feeling something she felt the other night. her lower stomach bubbling in heat, a wetness poured in her panties.

billy noticed her silence and her reaction, she looked so small and innocent. he stepped forward, brushing a few hair behind her ear. her bright green eyes staring back. he leaned in and pressed a small kiss to her lips.

she was surprised and pulled back. his eyes darker and his lips fuller now.

she gasped at the sight of him, he was so beautiful.

"have you ever touched yourself before?" his southern accent breaking the silence.

"um no," pearl said, quietly. her cheeks reddened by now, she was biting her lip.

"may i?" he asked her, peering into her eyes.

pearl reluctantly nodded her head, billy picked up pearl like she weighed nothing.

"wrap your legs around me, dollface," and she did. he carried her to the priests office, shutting and locking the door then laying pearl down on the desk. her body lay there, as she anxiously waited, billy threw everything on the floor turning her body so it's long ways.

"billy, I've never done this before," she sat up on her elbows, hair a mess and her strap falling off her shoulder. billy laughed as he took off his belt and vest. he had lost his hat a bit ago, his hair had grown so much.

"baby, I know what you have and haven't done. I still wanna take care of ya," he leaned down between her thighs. she was soaked, she was so embarrassed, she tried closing her legs.

"let me taste you," he mumbled into her, before taking a long wet stripe to her wet patch on her panties. she moaned out, her hands fitting her dress. he pushed up her short dress more, exposing all of her.

"that feels nice," she said, not even realizing what was going on. billy smirked, pulling her white wet panties down her thighs. once they were gone, he pushed her legs up on the desk spreading her all the way open.

billy gasped, she was dripping. literally honey, he thought. he dove right in, no warning. licking her clit, she screamed out. his tongue playing with her clit, slowly.

"oh my-" she breathed out, whimpering. billy smirked to himself before speeding up, his tongue doing soft but fast. a feeling way coming up, she felt like she had to pee. she was a moaning whimpering mess.

"my messy baby, your pussy is soaking. can't wait to feel you around me. " he grumbled into her, she cried out as he took in all her juices, not missing any.

"feel good baby?" he sat her up, she lazily sat up. her hair falling behind her.

"take your dress off baby," she obliged, tiredly. billy smirked watching her as he unbuttoned his button up, and pulled down his pants. her dress was off as she watched him, she looked down and gasped.

"big, ain't it? sometimes the ladies call me billy the man," he laughed, "too bad, I only want you to call me that," he winked at pearl.

"I bet you say that to all the girls," pearl mumbled, looking down away from his gaze. two fingers lifted her head, their eyes met.

"I wouldn't lie to you, honey," he mumbled planting a kiss on her forehead, "now lay back and let daddy do his thing,"

she laid back, his large fingers rubbed her clit in circles. she was seeing stars, she was a whimpering messy little girl and billy loved it.

"billy,-" she breathed out, eyes rolling in the back of her head.

"baby, im gonna try somethin'" suddenly two finger plunged into her, his large fingers giving her a filling feeling. his fingers curled, causing this feeling to happen. billy continued, adding another finger. he finger fucked her, hard.

"daddy," she moaned, billy had to hold back his moan.

"fuck it," he mumbled, grabbing his hardened member spitting on it while rubbing in his precum. while pearl was in her own euphoric world, he played with her small bud rubbing in circles with his thumb.

he placed himself at her entrance, before pushing in slowly. inch by inch by inch, she could feel herself expanding around his large member. the farther he got in the more she wanted more, he pulled all the way out before sliding all the way back in hard. she cried out, he wrapped his toned arms around her back pulling her up, before slamming his hips into hers multiple times.

"fuck bi-daddy," she cursed as he fucked her roughly. rough sex was Billy's favorite and most girls liked it because his big cock.

billy moaned as he fucked her, their hips meeting, he pulled her into a messy kiss. he stuck his tongue in her mouth, she could taste herself. she sucked on his tongue causing this animalistic sound to come out of billy. he pulled away, before pulling her out and flipping her over so she was bent over the desk.

"such a pretty pink pussy baby, can't wait to destroy it," he spit on his cock, jerking it a few times before sliding into her wet hole.

she moaned, billy went in so deeply he could feel her cream on his cock. he grunted, her ass jiggling against him. he reached for her long hair pulling her back so she could look at him as billy was filling her up.

"fuck," she cried out as he plunged into her, billy was turned on, she was his bad girl. he wanted that, he wanted to turn her and he did.

"preachers daughter my ass," he only went harder, she clenched around him crying out. tears staining her pretty pink cheeks.

"you my dirty whore? huh?" billy grunted, pulling her head back more.

"oh my God yes daddy, I'm your dirty whore," she cried out, Cumming again on his cock.

billy was close, he became sloppy yet hard still. he wanted to cum on her back, he wanted to see the cum on her.

"fuck, honey, I'm close," he breathed, letting go of her hair, moving to her lips.

"daddy fuck, don't stop," they moaned together before billy pulled out and finished on her back.

pearl was out of breath, and sore. extremely sore, there was a liquid pouring down her legs. she looked around for billy, he wasn't there. she began to feel used, upset.

billy came walking in, his thermals on and a rag in his hand, she felt much relief.

"lemme take care of this mess baby," he smiled at her, she nodded grinning biting her lip as he wiped her and him clean.

"I'd like to see you again, doll," he smirked, she bit her lip hiding a grin slipping on her dress. she picked her panties off the ground, handing them to billy.

"keep these", she whispered before asking, " you workin today?"

billy smirked getting dressed, before looking at her .

"oh I'm workin' today darlin. I'll take ya home, and we can continue, if you'd like of course." billy said, smooth but sweetly.

"sure, daddy,"

she stopped calling her dad, daddy so dw no one will be confused or weirded out.

#billy the kid 2022 #billy the kid #tom blyth x reader #tom blyth #tom blyth smut

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twola · 5 months

Note

idk if this is too vague, but arthur/f!reader in the classic trope of, oh my god I can't believe we both almost just died sex? did they both almost drown? Was there a fire? did he save her life? who knows! i feel like arthur would sees the woman he loves almost die and immediately fuck about it

Okay this has been in my asks for WAY too long and it’s such a good one and I wanted to do it justice.

Left Unsaid

Arthur Morgan x F!Reader Smut (18+), MDNI

➵ Fic Masterlist ➵ AO3 Link

When he think's he's almost lost you in a run-in with a rival gang, Arthur quickly gets over his nervousness in approaching you.

The bloodcurdling scream jolts him from sleep, making him stumble up from where he was sitting on a rickety chair in the main room of the old cabin. At first, he thinks it's a dream, but when the sound of breaking glass pierces the night, Arthur shoots up; the chair falling to the ground in a clatter as he quickly shakes the vestiges of sleep from his mind.

This abandoned cabin off of Eris Field seemed the perfect place to spend the night instead of making the trek all the way back to Shady Belle tonight - your yawning from behind him on his horse had him chuckling as he made the decision to stay - doing the gentlemanly thing and giving you the bedroom with the old single bed. As much as he’d like to be sharing it with you - he remained externally aloof - proclaiming that he’d sleep on the chair in the main room. He certainly did not dare to ask to share your bed - not now, probably not ever.

But the rustling and thumping behind the door where you sleep has his heart racing - his hand flies to his revolver as he readies himself to throw his shoulder into the door and shoot whatever it is that is making that noise, but the door bursts open before he gets the chance.

A man stands on the threshold - dirty, and grimy, with a faded gray woolen military uniform and a yellow bandana around his neck.

Of course, goddamn Lemoyne Raiders.

The raider holds up his knife in front of him, and in the din of movement and chaos around them, Arthur can see the liquid sheen over the steel in the man’s hand.

The knife, dripping with blood. The man, seemingly unharmed. The door, slightly ajar, to the bedroom where you slept.

A cold stone settles in Arthur’s gut as he puts the pieces together. In an instant, he snarls, diving toward the man with little regard for his own person, tackling him to the ground and ready to rip him apart with his bare hands for what he’s done to you. As Arthur mounts himself on the man’s chest and begins to strangle him, the movement knocks the oil lantern off the table, crashing to the wooden floor and immediately bursting into flame.

The man’s neck snaps between Arthur’s hands and he immediately leaps up, moving toward the bedroom where you were sleeping.

Another body crashes into him, a Lemoyne Raider dressed like he is straight out of a Civil War battle tackles Arthur to the ground, the two of them tumbling along the floor and breaking through the rickety door to the porch. Arthur rolls backward, unsheathing his hunting knife as he grits his teeth, ready to slice this damn bastard into shreds.

Of course, the wannabe soldier is no match for the hardened outlaw. They sure as hell don’t make them like they used to. Arthur easily dodges a swing of the man’s fist and throws his weight forward. He sinks his knife into the raider’s gut, and immediately shoves him to the ground. He gurgles blood from his mouth as Arthur rushes over him, back toward the house.

The flames burst out the windows as he barrels back toward the door, grabbing at the handle and cursing aloud as it burns him.

The constriction in his chest has settled into a churning in his gut as he prepared to kick the door in. At this point would he be finding your charred, lifeless body, having bled out on the floor because he couldn’t protect you?

“Arthur-!”

He steps off the porch, not sure if he is lightheaded or hallucinating, but you move toward him, hitching your skirts, blood covering your blouse, your hair wild.

“Jesus-” He crashes into you, having nearly leaped the final few steps, crushing you into his chest, nearly causing you to stumble.

He yanks you back, large hands on your shoulders, and looks you up and down, eyeing the blood patch on your blouse.

“N-not mine.” You breathe, but he does not move his hand from your ribcage. It presses inward, against the wet cotton, splaying across your side as if he did not believe you, checking for where the knife would have marred your flesh.

“Arthur-” You whisper, your hands tight on his biceps, “I’m alright.”

His eyes dart back up to yours, searching, pupils dilated, breathing heavily.

“Ar-”

You’re cut off completely as he pulls you against him and presses his lips desperately against yours, muffling your surprised yelp as his tongue demands entrance into your mouth. After a moment of shock, you melt into his embrace, fingers tightening on his shirt sleeves as you open your mouth to him.

He kisses you like you are the air he breathes. Like you are some kind of salvation… like he thought he almost lost something.

Arthur pulls back, breathing heavily, a flush having taken over his face, “Christ-” he goes to unwind his arms from you, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-”

It’s his turn to be cut off as your hands immediately travel to the collar of his shirt and you pull him down to your lips to kiss him again, needy as you moan into his mouth.

His arms immediately recircle you, hands moving down from your ribs, down, down to your waist, your hips, your rear. Hooking his arms around the back of your thighs, you’re lifted up, squealing in surprise into his mouth as you wrap your legs around his waist.

Continuing to press into each other's mouths, you barely notice him walking the two of you back, further from the flaming cabin, into the woodline, and finally against a tree trunk a safe distance away. He pulls back, panting as you recline against it, his arms tight under your thighs.

He gazes upon your kiss-swollen lips; your heaving chest as you breathe heavily, your pupils blown wide in arousal. Arthur takes the opportunity to roll his hips once, his hardening cock pressing against your cunt, and your eyes flutter closed as a needy, breathy whine escapes your lips.

“Arthur-”

He does it again, maybe for his sake as much as your own, the blood rushing to his groin and filling his cock properly. He grits his teeth as the rolling becomes rutting, your gasps driving him insane.

Before he gets to the point of no return, he slows his hips and leans over to recapture your lips in another kiss. As he pulls his

“Thinkin’ you was dead back there-” He pushes his lips to yours again, “Christ- I… I never told you-”

One of his hands leaves your thighs, but you have no fear he’s going to drop you. He buries it in layers of cotton, pulling at your skirts to move them from his way, reaching your bloomers and pressing against your cunt, watching your face intently as you moan, the cotton separating you quickly dampening against his fingers.

He leans in again and groans against your neck. Grabbing the cotton tightly, he yanks until he feels the seams give way, the tearing sound ringing in his ears as he delves within the ruined fabric to your soaking folds. You jolt against him and whine loudly as he slides his fingers along the seam of your body.

Arthur covers your mouth with his own as he sinks his fingers into you, working you open as you clutch desperately at his shoulders.

After you’ve cried out several times in the night, his hand leaves you and you sigh at the loss, he shushes you gently as he works at the buttons of his trousers, finally freeing his cock from his pants after moments of fiddling. His hand returns to your thigh as he adjusts you in his arms. The head of his cock presses gently against the rim of your cunt.

Your hands move from his shoulders to cup his face, your thumb tracing his lower lip gently before he sucks the tip into his mouth, his eyes trained on yours.

He pulses his hips and his cockhead slips inside you. Your brows crinkle with the first vestiges of the ache of penetration, and he leans forward again to press his lips upon your forehead.

“What did you never tell me?” You whisper as he holds you on the cusp of joining, the precipice of sheathing himself into you.

One of his hands leaves your thigh, though you are completely unafraid of falling with your legs wrapped around him and the strength of his other arm. His fingers brush back a strand of your hair from your forehead, tucking it gently behind your ear before his rough and calloused palm rests on your cheek.

“You’d have died and I woulda never told you I’m in love with you.”

Your eyebrows raise in shock as you clutch at him, and while you remain silent, after a moment, you pull him closer with your legs, nudging his back with your ankles, and he slowly slides himself inside you, inch by inch, until your hips touch and you mewl with the stretch. He hums softly before slowly, gently, rocking his hips, starting a slow rhythm as you get used to him.

His powerful arms keep you suspended against the tree trunk with each roll of his hips, each glide of the inches of him in and out of you, well glossed and hot with your slick.

Arthur’s lips press to yours incessantly, muffling your gasps and whines as he presses into you. After one particularly deep thrust, you throw your head back in ecstasy, bumping against the trunk of the tree.

“Careful there, darlin’,” Arthur slows his hips, and tightening his grip on your thighs, he pulls you away from the tree, you yelp and tighten your legs around his hips. He chuckles softly as he walks you, still joined, a few steps from the tree and slowly lowers the both of you to the ground on a patch of grass. Spreading himself out over you, he buries his head against your neck as he lets go of your thighs, his forearms on either side of your shoulders, rocking his hips into yours again.

The staccato whine of the syllables of his name escapes you as you hook your ankles around each other over his back. Carding your hands through his hair, your fingers interweave between his honeyed strands, his hat long gone in your desperation to join yourselves.

He presses himself up above you as his thrusts become more erratic, his breathing loud and heavy as he pounds you into the ground.

“God-” you cry out as your hands grasp his shirt, “Arthur, yes-”

He squeezes his eyes shut tightly, looming over you as he careens toward completion.

You arch your back, your thighs wrapping tighter around him as you begin to babble - “Yes- Arthur… I love you too-”, another gasp as he hits that spot within you, “God - I love you so much-”

That’s it. There it is, stripped bare and bleeding out like an open wound, his heart catching in his chest at your confession, and his amazement leaves him speechless as he thrusts into you once more, holding himself as deep as he can possibly get into you, feeling you pulse and clutch around him, wailing your pleasure into the night. It’s only a moment more before he has the wherewithal to yank himself from you, in the nick of time as he spurts his seed over your cunt, dripping white into the dark curls at the joining of your legs.

He’s gasping, you’re gasping, and he groans as he settles himself to the side of you, barely able to hold himself up with the exertion. Your legs hang open as you pant, flushed from your cheeks down your neck.

One of his large hands spreads out over your chest, against your racing heart, and you turn your head toward him, breathing out through your nose as a smile graces your lips.

“Probably should get outta here before any more stragglers find us.” He says, out of breath as he removes his hand to tuck himself back into his trousers. You nod and sit up, pulling your skirts down over your legs.

“D’ya think…” you trail off as you watch him rebutton his pants before he pushes himself to stand. His hair is ridiculously ruffled from the amount of times you've run your fingers through it.

“Mm?” He holds out his hand to you to help you up.

You take it, and he pulls you up into his embrace, his hand secure on your lower back.

“Was wondering if we could spend the rest of the night in Rhodes or somewhere instead of heading all the way back to camp…” You ask as you lay a hand on his chest.

He squeezes you closer to him.

“Sounds mighty nice… certainly wouldn't mind a stay in a hotel room tonight.”

#red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan #rdr2 #red dead fanfic #red dead redemption #arthur morgan smut #arthur morgan x female reader #arthur morgan x reader #twolafic #prompt request #red dead fandom #rdr2 fanfic

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actingmasterclassseries · 2 years

Link

Student in performance: Denise Swain

This weekend, The Back-Porch Gang will play Friday and Saturday at 8 p.m. and Sunday at 3 p.m. Tickets are $18. Don't let this hilarious new comedy pass you by! Starring Acting Masterclass Series alum Denise Swain.

Photo: Ashton Simmons

#denise swain #jade esteban estrada #acting masterclass series #acting class #acting students #students in performance #the back porch gang #comedy #acting school #acting teacher #getjaded #san antonio actors #acting student #masterclass #satx #overtime theater #artistic director #director

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jadeestebanestrada · 2 years

Link

Mention in Arts Alive SA

"On opening weekend, they received standing ovations after both performances." - Arts Alive SA

Thank you to Jasmina Wellinghoff for including The Back-Porch Gang in her news roundup. Only five performances left!

#the back porch gang #overtime theater #director #jade esteban estrada #ben scranton #comedy #play #theatre #san antonio #success #actors #ensemble #artistic director #dramaturg #life lessons #getjaded #seniors

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estradacreative · 2 years

Link

The Back-Porch Gang at the Overtime Theater

This weekend, The Back-Porch Gang will play Friday and Saturday at 8 p.m. and Sunday at 3 p.m. Tickets are $18. Don't let this hilarious new comedy pass you by!

Photo: Ashton Simmons

0 notes

imdead770 · 5 months

Text

The Outsiders x Reader Headcannons

♡ Random things the gang would do if you dated them ♡

Darry -

He's fixing everything for you. Your shelf broke? Give him 15 minutes. Your car broke? He'll get Sodapop to fix it up for you. Your heart broke? He's fixing it. This man is Fix-it Felix.

♡

I feel like he wouldn't be the biggest PDA guy, but if you're both alone, he's probably holding you in some way shape or form. Your back against his chest, your head on his shoulder with his arm around you, it's happening and he's perfectly happy with it.

Sodapop -

I don't know why, but I feel like Sodapop picked a specific night for both of you to just spend time together and relax. Probably a Saturday night since he won't have to worry about work. It's just a night where you sit together, eat ice cream, and watch a movie. He'll hold you and quietly talk to you, randomly peppering kisses on your face.

^ this makes me so lovesick holy shit ^

♡

This man is HUGE on pda. He'll hold your hand, have his arm around your waist, kiss your forehead. As long as you're comfortable with it, he'll shower you with affection 25/8

Ponyboy -

He WILL watch sunsets with you. He'll take your hand, run you outside to his porch and sit on the steps with you. Your head rested on his shoulder with his arm around your waist.

" You were right Pony.. it's beautiful.. "

" Not as beautiful as you.. "

I know it's cliche but stfu

♡

I feel like he isn't really used to PDA, so he doesn't really initiate it. But the moment you do anything, from holding his jaw as you kiss him to entertwining your fingers with his, his heart melts. With a bit of time, he'll return the favor, he just needs to get comfortable.

Johnny -

I don't know if this is accurate, but I feel like he'd bring you flowers. No reason, he just wanted to bring his girl flowers. He'll bring you your favorite if he can. If he can't find some he'll pick the prettiest ones he can find. You had to buy a vase for just how often he brings you flowers.

♡

We all know this boy is shy, but I feel like once he warms up to you PDA is just normal. Not big PDA like Soda, but he likes holding your hand in public. In private he'll hold you against him, play with your hair, the whole thing.

Dallas -

He takes you to so many of Buck's parties it's not even funny. You're bored? He'll take you to go dance. You're stressed? He'll sit at the bar and drink with you. You don't drink? Well shit.

☆ On the dancing note, he's not a huge dancer, but he'll stand beside you to make sure nobody steps out of line. He also 100% watches your ass while you sway your hips. Probably grinds if we're being honest.

♡

On the PDA side, he isn't big on it, in public or in private. Gotta maintain that tough guy image. He might have his hand in your back pocket or around your hip. In private he won't be big on it at first, but after a bit he might hold you. Not like hold-hold, but he'll put his arms around you.

Two-Bit -

I swear on my life, this man will throw the worst pick-up lines at you. He doesn't care that you're already dating, he'll do it.

" Yknow, if you were a vegetable, you’d be a cute-cumber. "

" Two-Bit, I love you, but shut the fuck up. "

♡

PDA wise, he'll do it. That's about it. He'll do it. He wouldn't make out with you on the spot, but he'll hold you, kiss you on the cheek, whatever. He'll do it.

Steve -

He'd try to bake with you. This isn't a regular thing, but I think since he likes chocolate cake so damn much, he'd decide to make it. He just decided to bring you along for the ride. To summarize it, it was a mess.

" Steve.. when did that milk expire? "

" Says.. December, why? "

" What year, Steve. "

" ... Ohhh.. "

♡

This mf is just a leveled-down Dallas ( in the best way possible ). He acts all tough/tuff but would do subtle acts. Hands around your waist, intertwining his fingers with yours, the basics. In private he'd definitely hold you, though.

I love them all so much

#sodapop curtis #the outsiders #the outsiders headcanons #dallas winston #darry curtis #johnny cade #ponyboy curtis #steve randle #two bit mathews #sodapop x reader #dallas x reader #two bit x reader #ponyboy x reader #johnny x reader #steve x reader #darry x reader

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lovebugism · 4 months

Note

congrats on one year of your blog!!

for your one year celebration, could you write something with the prompt

“you showed up at my door of all place?”

“trust me it wasn’t my first choice either.”

with steve perhaps? maybe he’s injured (because when isn’t he) and has no one else to turn to but the reader??

tysm lovie! hope you like it :D — steve seeks comfort in you, his rival since high school, a week after fighting vecna (enemies in love, hurt/comfort, post st4, 1.7k)

bug's one year celebration ♡

Steve’s stitches start weeping a week after the brawl with Vecna — the ones you’d sewn along his ribcage when a gang of demobats made a feast of him.

He’s gotten so numb to the pain (the constant, never-ending, three years of nonstop pain) that he doesn’t realize his wound has torn open again. Not until his shirt starts sticking abnormally wet to his skin. He looks down, notices the dark red patch blooming on the gray fabric, and then feels the distant stinging of the week-old bite.

Most of them have healed or are starting to. They’ve turned pink and marred over, unlikely to fade. But there’s one gash that refuses to mend, and he’s starting to think it might be some kind of bad omen. Like the constantly knicked sutures are some kind of prophetic telling of an undone fight and not just a consequence of his restlessness.

He thinks of you first, anyhow. Before a solution or a way to dull the pain. He thinks of you and your gentle hands and how you were the only person he’d let touch him after coming back from the Upside Down.

Steve drives to Forest Hills and ascends the rickety porch of your trailer even though he knows it’s 2 a.m. He knocks at the paint-chipped entrance even though he knows Eddie only lives four doors down. Max lives across the way from Eddie, and he knows that, too. He could go just about anywhere, he figures, but he’s here — on the steps of the girl who couldn’t stand him in high school.

You answer the door much quicker than he anticipated. Ten seconds after he knocks, you stand before him with wet hair and no pants. The damp strands drip onto the oversized shirt you wear. The sleeves of the old thing hang low off your arms, the hem of it falling just above your knees.

You don’t look sleepy despite the early hours of the morning. Tired, maybe, but not sleepy. “Steve?” you say, so suddenly alert at the sight of him. Your eyes, lined with a sleep you haven’t gotten in days, go wide with distant horror. “What happened? Are you okay? Did someone die?”

You ask him all this before he’s said a single word. Good questions when you live in a town like this one, when you’ve seen the things you’ve seen.

“Nothing. Everyone’s fine,” Steve answers in a monotone, still gripping his side with his opposite hand. “My stitches just ripped.”

You blink rapidly at him, trying to clear the daze of exhaustion and the subtle shock of seeing him. “Stitches— What?”

He pulls back his hand, the palm of it now blotched pink. There’s one large circle of deep brown blood staining his shirt and two more tiny patches just below it. “I’m bleeding,” he tells you, as if it isn’t obvious now. “My stitches pulled.”

Your gaping gaze flits from his freshly opened wound to the annoyed look on his chiseled face. His pale features glow amber beneath the buzzing porch light. “And you showed up to my door, of all places?”

“Trust me. It wasn’t my first choice either.” He clutches his side again and slides past you in the doorway, walking into your trailer, mostly uninvited.

He knows your parents aren’t around. It’s the only thing you’ve ever been able to bond over. You grew up mostly alone and learned to raise yourselves accordingly. So it’s not totally surprising to find your trailer dripping with girlhood — tiny trinkets, movie posters, half-alive plants, and vibrant colors. More of a home than his empty mansion ever was.

“Why don’t you just go to the E.R.?” you ask and shut the door behind you. You have to lean your body weight against it and press really hard — or else it won’t close fully, and the wind kicks it open while you’re sleeping, and you wake up to a family of raccoons ravaging the candy bowl on your coffee table.

Steve huffs and sits on your grass-green couch, face scrunching at the distant stinging along his ribcage. “Because I don’t know how to tell people that potentially rabid demobats took a pound of flesh outta me,” he sasses.

You shake your head. “If you get blood on my sofa, Harrington, I swear to god…” you mumble and sit down beside him.

You lift the hem of his shirt to assess the damage, knuckles skimming warm along his golden side.

Most of the bites scattered along his ribs are healing now. They’re small and shallow and turning slowly pink instead of scarlet red. But there’s one still pulsing crimson, the only one deep enough to need stitches. The only one refusing to heal.

The sight of the raw, throbbing wound makes your stomach writhe. You remember pulling the stubborn demobat off of him by its tail. You feel the sting of his pain even now, like it’s your own.

Steve watches your face the whole time. He decides to base his pain on how you look at him, whether you shrug it off or grimace in disgust. You do neither. Your eyes dart over his skin, glimmering with concentration, as your fingers brush his aching side with a gentleness he didn’t think was possible.

His brows pinch at your lack of response. He tilts his chin to his chest and ducks his gaze to look at you, honey eyes eyes sparkling with curiosity. “Is it bad?”

“Well… It’s not good,” you conclude after a few moments.

“That’s such a non-answer,” he scoffs, dropping his head to the back of the couch to watch you walk into the kitchen.

You disappear behind a wall for a few moments. The distant clattering of something, muffled as you dig inside cabinets, fills the empty trailer.

You’re back in thirty seconds, tops, with the first aid kit you’ve been a stickler about keeping restocked. ‘Cause Steve isn’t your first patient since coming back home. He’s not your second, either.

It was Eddie first, for his own demobat bites, and then Lucas when the cut along his swollen cheek split open again.

You’re not cut out for any of it. Not professionally, anyway. You only know how to do sutures because of Mr. Mundy’s ninth-grade health class.

You return to Steve’s side and begin to clean up the bite, lest an infection spread and Vecna take him out from beyond the grave.

The burn of the alcohol makes him wince. “Ow,” Steve whispers under his breath, a subtle pout scrunching his features.

“Don’t be such a baby,” you laugh.

“I’m injured— You’re supposed to be nice to me.”

“You’ve been through three separate concussions and a thousand demobat bites. I think you can handle a little sting, Harrington.”

Steve tilts his cheek to his shoulder, squinting his twinkling eyes and flashing you a lopsided smile. “Has anyone ever told you how amazing your bedside manner is— ow!”

You start stitching him up without warning. You make it look easy despite having no real idea what you’re doing. Steve figures it’s because you’re a natural at taking care of people. Sometimes he thinks that’s the only reason all of you managed to make it out of the Upside Down in the first place.

“All done,” you murmur after you’ve knotted the last stitch.

“Thanks…” He tries to sit up again. The sting hasn’t yet left him. It’s less of a pain now, and more of a warning — the thin sutures screaming as they threaten to snap.

“If you don’t move around so much, they won’t pull. Again.”

“Is that the rule?” he teases.

“Yeah. That’s the rule— the don’t be stupid rule.”

Steve takes a sharp breath in and rises. He’s prepared for the ache, so it burns less this time. He sees you reach for him in the corner of his eye, hands darting out to help him and then shooting down again when you decide against it.

He wouldn’t have minded if you had. He would’ve made fun of you for it, obviously, but he wouldn’t have minded.

He’s been missing the warmth of your touch more and more since the Upside Down — back when he laid mostly limp on the arid ground of a desolate land, when you cradled his body to shield him from the bats flying overhead.

He stopped feeling scared when you held him. He thought it was because he was dying, but now he knows it was because of you. The healing in your touch. It’s like the amber glow of streetlamps in the dead of night, or sunsets that paint the whole world pink. Being touched by you is like dancing in summer rain and running through a field of wildflowers.

“Sorry, for uh— for keeping you up,” Steve apologizes and inches towards the door.

You follow close behind him, with an urgency that borders between letting him out and keeping him in. “It’s— It’s fine,” you stammer, then laugh at yourself. “It’s not like I was sleeping anyway.”

“Really?” Steve asks, an inquisitive swirl to his scruffy features.

He turns around to face you more, his sneakers melting into the plush of your rug. Your hand gets clammy and tightens around the rusted doorknob when he looks down at you — with his eyes made of velvet and his mouth made of flower petals. His face is so hardened, but he looks at you so softly anyway.

“No,” you confess with a soft shrug. “I mean— after everything, I don’t know how anyone is. I was with Eddie earlier, and the fucker was passed out before ten.”

Steve breathes a sharp laugh through his nose. His plush lips curl into a crooked smile. “He deserves the sleep, though.”

“Yeah,” you sigh.

“And so do you.”

“I know,” you grin, equal parts bitter and genuine. “But I’m not getting any.”

“Me neither,” Steve confesses, exhaling so deep it makes his chest deflate.

The two of you linger in place for a long, long time. Both of your mouths curl to say the same things — let’s grieve together, let’s wait for the sun to rise so the nightmares will pass — but neither of you is brave enough to say them out loud.

“I’ll see you around,” Steve nods, finally.

You wrench open the door for him, pulling extra hard when it jams. “The next time you pull your stitches?” you joke, smiling like you’re not grieved to watch him walk into the empty night alone.

Steve grins like he’s not mourning, too. “Probably,” he scoffs.

Maybe before that, he hopes, healed again as he walks to his car. Maybe I’ll be brave enough soon.

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