#yours truly johnny dollar

[rhynerd]

Welcome! It is time for a new episode of Vex's @that-house's Mechs and Memes, where I take a lancer mech meme by Vex that-house and voice it in the style of LoadingReadyRun's character of Dave's Spokesman.

Today we are upping the (reactor) crimes by visiting an old creation of Harrison Armory: The Enkidu

If you're the sort to read the whole post before listening to the audio, then you'll find out something in advance: April Fools, I took some audio from Yours Truly, Johnny Dollar, and tried to make this sound like a fake ad that'd play in the episode's scheduled break, adding some radio crackle and a bit of an earlier part of the show to make it sound more like it was an old recording somebody made at home.

But I also did record something in the official Dave's Spokesman style:

I also did a little, more normal voicing of the last line because it's the bit that keeps popping in my brain randomly enough to help inspire me to make this april fools joke today:

Happy April Fools! I hope you've enjoyed this!

[gaykarstaagforever]

Original air date: December 12, 1956

Total Expenses: $1965 ($22,564 today. For like a week in San Francisco, to yell at a drunk woman for being mean to her father-in-law, which isn't a crime, and certainly isn't the insurance company's business. What planet did these people live on?)

To be fair, this one is actually pretty emotionally resonant and kind of heart-warming.

Johnny also yells at TWO drunk women and calls them bums. One is a widow whose husband was brutally murdered by guerillas in Malaysia. And this, all the while he himself is drinking in like every scene.

"Give me four fingers of sour mash. For you, Johnny?"

"I was just thinking that myself. Thanks."

It's 10 am on a Monday. Jesus Christ, Johnny. At least the other guy is like 70 and already dying of being 70 in the 1950s.

This one also has an actual POC actor. I mean, he's playing a "steward," but it is tastefully done and he is very good.

The ending really redeems this one, because otherwise Johnny drinks and yells and harasses people until the cops call him because they already solved the "case" for him.

Oh, to be an "insurance investigator," back when liquor was cheap and a dollar was expensive! These people didn't realize how good they had it.

[rhynerd]

The old time radio nerd in me demands that I chime up with something:

A majority of old radio shows were designed to only be heard once: on their scheduled air date.

Most series were not transcribed unless being used for something like the Armed Forces Radio or set to played on a holiday. There’s plenty of episodes and/or shows that only survived for as long as they have because somebody recorded them and other folks made sure that copy was cared for and copied in turn.

One of my favorite shows is Yours Truly, Johnny Dollar, which was one such show that had quite a few episodes transcribed but also had a lot of people recording episodes before then. Yet there’s still plenty of gaps. Best example I can think of is from when the series tried out doing five part 15 minute episodes over the course of a business week. One such was called the Salt City Matter, which to my knowledge is still missing one of its episodes. If there are any copies of that one episode in particular they were either too damaged to work. If we’re lucky, maybe there’s a copy that’s just under restoration work right now or there’s a collector who’s for a working copy they’re about to move out of their “for my ears only” section and place into public domain.

Now let’s jump forward a few dozen years into something going on right now. A game called Beacon is about to lose its developing company. When that company goes, it’ll have to be taken off of any storefronts. Thing is, the devs have stated that they’re going to put the game up on the Internet Archive once it’s no longer for sale.

You want lost media? Look towards that missing episode of Yours Truly, Johnny Dollar: The Salt City Matter. You want commercially unavailable media? Wait five or so days and look at Beacon then.

I really hate that so many people can't tell a difference between "lost media" and "commercially unavailable media".

Like there's a TV tropes article that calls the SNES Lion King game "lost media".

No? We have ROMs and there's carts on ebay?

But it's no available in the Nintendo Switch store, so it's "lost media".

Like, don't get me wrong, the fact that there's so many games (especially Nintendo console games!) that you cannot legally purchase right now is definitely a problem, but it's a mostly separate problem from lost media, which is where there's no archived versions anywhere, and it's potentially completely lost.

[oldradioguy1776]

This was the first episode of Yours, Truly Johnny Dollar, originally aired February 18, 1949. The image on left is of a young Bob Bailey from 1937.

[ Direct Download: https://api.spreaker.com/v2/episodes/61075089/download.mp3 ]

We offer 5 OTR radio stations without advertising. They can be accessed through a pop-up radio player on my site (https://theaterofthemind-otr.com) or on any of the major internet radio apps/sites. All of our content is free.

[splendidnothings]

Is it in your opinion that Peter would be able to manage suddenly coming into tens of millions of dollars?

We've actually seen exactly what happens when he comes into tens of millions of dollars (and his own company) post-Superior Spider-Man. And let’s just say it did not end well--

("Now, let's tear it down!" Amazing Spider-Man #31 (2015))

Truly, the man did not last more than a couple months, in-universe, before force-ejecting from the entire enterprise, super-villain plot notwithstanding. Even without Otto forcing his hand Peter was routinely giving his money away or using exorbitant amounts for the benefit of his family and friends. His philanthropic work with the Uncle Ben Foundation. Helping out May, Flash, and Carlie. Generally, giving his money away at any opportunity. He bought the Baxter Building for Johnny!

("Everyone was trying to buy this place...and I outbid 'em all..." Amazing Spider-Man #3 (2015))

Peter during Parker Industries didn’t “manage” this money at all. He spent and spent and the only reason he didn’t eventually run out was because his corporation imploded first.

So, I think the easiest answer is if he suddenly came into a lot of money, like for example, if he won the lottery, he would not so much manage the money but just use it until it ran dry and then find a gig to pay next month’s rent. 

Now, Parker Industries is a pretty on the nose example so if we disregard that run I still think it's clear that Peter would manage a million dollars just as well as he would ten dollars and that is to say quickly and/or probably for the benefit of someone else. Peter genuinely just does not care about having money just to acquire wealth. 

(“I don’t value it.” Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man #10 (2019) I personally think this is a clunky panel because it’s telling us instead of actually showing us he doesn’t value money but alas it suits my purposes for this post.)

This is obviously not to say he doesn't know the value of money or that he is oblivious to the fact that he needs money for rent or that having money makes life easier. Most of his struggles come from a lack of money. But he doesn’t view money in the long term, he’s not thinking of it as a potential investment but merely a tool to solve immediate problems. Even when he comes into a bit of surprise money he needs it all just to cover bills (Thanks Robbie!)--

(“I have [a savings plan]?! You mean when Robbie made me sign all those forms last year?... That’s just enough for my back rent and a pizza!” Spectacular Spider-Man #126) 

Peter and his relationship with money is established early as core to his character and in connection with his economic status. When you are poor any money you earn is for immediate necessities, not something to be saved and managed. 

("Without Uncle Ben, we've no money to pay our bills." Amazing Spider-Man #1) 

He just needs to make enough to pay rent, for May's medical bills, for food. Maybe he wants to get something nice for May or Betty, Gwen, or MJ. Later on, his money worries are in relation to being able to support a wife (this occurs with both Gwen and MJ). But it's all short-term and a means to an end. Past the immediate obstacle where the money is needed, he doesn't care about money at all.

His very first superhero team-up was less of a team-up and more of Peter thinking he could make money by joining the Fantastic Four!

("There's the way I can make some money--by joining the Fantastic Four!" Amazing Spider-Man #1) 

I’ve been using multiple panels from Amazing Spider-Man #1 so far because I think it’s important in showing how ingrained Peter’s overall views on money are to the character. This is his second appearance ever (after Amazing Fantasy #15) and not only is his socio-economic class crystal clear but so is how he handles and thinks about money. 

Canonically, almost every time Peter does come into a little extra money he gives it away. This is also a pretty consistent trait of his. He's just not one to keep extra cash around unless he's specifically saving for something. Why would he hoard money when he can help someone he loves or give it to a New Yorker who needs it more than him at that moment. 

(...other people need it more than me, right?) 

Further, he doesn’t view Spider-Man as something that holds monetary value. 

(Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man #1(2019))

And he knows how important money is for the average person-- 

(“If that money isn’t recovered, what happens to relief payments this month?”)

And--let’s be clear here--Peter could very easily make all the money he wants. He could easily make loads of money. Whether it be because he is a certified genius. Or because he has superpowers and could employ them in a variety of different ways to get money...and he knows this.

("If money's a problem, then I'll just get money." Amazing Spider-Man #542)

(“I can go anywhere! No one, nothing can stop me! Any amount of money could be mine...” Amazing Spider-Man #1 (ASM #1 really doing the most work in hammering home so many core character traits huh!)) 

But, Peter is just not a character who aspires to be wealthy. He wants to be comfortable. He wants an apartment with a tiny skylight so he can easily sneak out and be Spider-Man. He wants enough money to take care of the people he loves. But that's it.

In fact, the jobs that have made him money usually become a problem because they get in the way of him being Spider-Man. He values being Spider-Man over making a name for himself, finishing grad school, making big science lab money, etc., etc. or he wouldn’t be dropping these pathways to a better economic status. He's had many well-paying science jobs throughout canon and he doesn't keep them because he eventually stops showing up. He's a flake who at the end of the day doesn't value that work or that money more than being Spider-Man and helping people Grad school meant so little to him at one point that he full-on dropped out, in part, because he thought he needed to make money to pay for Felicia's medical bills--

(“I might not have quit school to devote more time to making a living...OH WELL...”)

Pulling back a bit we also have to look at Peter and his purpose as a fictional character that requires thought and consistent theme-work. A Peter who acquires wealth. Who hoards such a valuable resource is kind of antithetical to his whole deal. Arguably, his most well-known villain is Norman Osborn the literal embodiment of what an evil man with lots of money and no responsibility can do. So, it really doesn’t make for a character like Peter so rooted in the lower class, so known for helping the ones who truly need him for him in his civilian life to be a well-off guy. Spider-Man is THE street-level hero dealing with street-level crime. At his best he is stopping muggings, beating up unfair landlords, or wealthy people taking advantage of the unfortunate. He's a man of the people and doesn't like when people misuse power and what gives people power more than money?

("...I had the most money!" "Oh, give it a rest." Spectacular Spider-Man #145) 

Wrapping this up, I also think a big reason Peter never feels so beholden to money is because he knows how self-sufficient he is. He invents his own webbing, web-shooters, is shown to be extremely handy, and is a genius. Why should he care about money beyond his basic needs? He can figure things out as the situation calls for it even if all he has is $23.50 in his bank account :p 

[pastelspoon31]

Chapter 1: Bitter Sweetness ♡ (Contract Killer!Soap x Baker!Reader) - NSFW

tw: age gap (Reader being 20, Soap being 31), manipulation, dacryphilia, noncon to dubcon, dead dove!!, big pp in small cunny :(

A/N: Wrote this a loooooooong time ago. Started off pretty cute until I let my period hormones finish the rest of the fic, sigh… Rip reader’s cunny.. AGAIN. (PS: I’m truly sorry for botching the Scottish slangs used.)

It wasn't unusual for people to not understand John 'Soap' MacTavish's Scottish slang. It also wasn't unusual for people to not even try and understand the Scottish lad. Unless it was crucial info to the mission on hand, most jokes and smartass remarks from Soap wasn't really worth repeating after the awkward silence or straight up laughter from his teammates.

He appreciated his team, he really does. There are times his jokes were reciprocated well, especially with his close friend- Ghost, but it's not often so he tries not to mind.

Well, until today at least.

Your soft giggles and laughs were like music to Soap's ears as you looked up to the man through your eyelashes. The bread on the counter was long forgotten as he watched you take humour to his passing joke.

"Sorry- I really do love your accent! It's scottish, right?" You tilted your head in a manner so cute, Soap's brain momentarily shut off.

"Yeah.." He answered slowly, almost shyly as he tried not to get distracted by how pretty you looked. "I'm Johnny,"

"I'm (Y/N)! I haven't seen you here at our bakery for a long while!" Your voice was cheerful and warm as you introduced yourself.

"Aye, been on a.. trip.." Soap mumbled, "Just got back this mornin’..”

"That's wonderful! Is there anything specific that you'd like to add on, Mr. Johnny? We recently hired a sandwich maker, so if you'd like-" You rambled a little about the menu and Soap nodded along, watching you carefully with a small smile.

"D'ye have any of yer pies?"

Your eyes twinkled at his question, "We sure do! We've got the classic chicken pot pie and vegetable pies for the savoury pies, aaaand we've got a blueberry pie, apple pie and lemon meringue pie for the sweet pies today!"

"I'll take a chicken pot pie, and a slice of yer blueberry pie." Soap watched your fingers press the buttons on the cash register before turning around to get the pastries.

He felt a little giddy and warm as he waited for his food, watching you interact with a customer on the other side.

"For here or to go, Mr. Johnny?" You asked as you turned back to him with the order and the bread he picked out earlierin a paper bag.

"To go, lassie."

"Here's your food then, sir." You said with a wide smile as Soap handed you the cash. You took the $100 bill and gave back his $83 dollar change. "Have a good day!"

He returned your smile, "Keep the change, lassie." 

"W-What? It's more than 80 dollars! This is too much!"

"Aye, but ye are too sweet for yer own good, love. Ye deserve it." Soap winked, walking towards the exit of the shop as he watched you sputter out thanks and goodbyes.

♡ ______ ♡

"Mr. Johnny! You're back!" You put down the tray of cookies onto the table next to the cash register, quickly walking over to the scottish man who stood at the entrance. "Haven't seen you in a few days! Where were you?"

“S’just Johnny fer ye, lassie,” He smiled warmly as he walked closer to meet you, "Had some work."

"You must be very busy with work, huh?" Your smile as sweet as ever as you looked up at him.

"Aye."

"Well, good thing I have something new just for you!" You pulled him towards the freshly baked cookies on the counter. "Are you a fan of cookies?"

"Oh? Are ye offering, lass?" Soap teased.

You nodded in excitement, "Yep! You're the first one to try the new recipes out! You wanna try one?" You handed him the warm heart shaped cookie.

Soap looked at you before looking back down at the cookie. He broke a piece off and popped it into his mouth. The buttery dough and sugar melted in his mouth, with the slight chocolate flavour from the chips.

Your much shorter stature made it hard to see you in the line of the large man, but that didn't stop you from standing on your toes and trying to look at his expression.

"How is it? Was it too dry? I saw the recipe on instagram a couple days ago and tweaked it a bit, I hope I didn't mess it up!-"

"It's delicious, lass."

You stopped and looked at his smiling Soap. "Really?"

"Mhm." Soap hummed and ate another piece.

You laughed in joy, clapping your hands together, "I'm glad! I'll let you take the rest of the batch home!"

"Ah- no need. Keep them, lass."

You looked at Soap with a questioning look, "Why? They're yours! It's a gift!"

Soap shook his head, "I'll take a couple, but the rest should go to yer customers."

"Well, I kinda made them for you specifically, so.." You blushed. "It'd make me happy if you could take all of it, Johnny."

"Aren't ye too young to be giving a lad like me a gift, lassie?"

"I'm twenty this year," Your lips formed a small pout, "I'm not a child."

"Still younger than me, aye?"

"...How old are you?"

"Thirty-one."

"So what's eleven years?-"

"A big gap." He curtly replied with a teasing smile.

You stared at Soap for a moment before you sighed, "Please? I made them for you.." You handed him the cookies in a box, neatly tied into a bow now. You don't seem to be hiding your advances either with how persistent you were.

What a naive young woman.

"Fine, if it's yer wish, lassie. But I will pay."

"It's a gift, Johnny. Free of charge."

"Nae, I'll pay, lassie."

You pouted again.

Soap sighed and reached out to you. Your breath hitched when his rough and calloused hand cupped your cheek, his thumb rubbing circles into the soft flesh.

"It's one dollar," You feigned annoyance.

"Is it really?"

A defiant nod was his only reply, "It's only a dollar."

"Well, then," Soap's fingers tilted your chin up, making you meet his gaze. "That's a steal, isnae?"

"Ye take tips, lassie?" His thumb gently traced your lips as he watched your eyelids flutter lightly at his touch.

"Maybe.." Your voice barely above a whisper.

"Then, this is my tip, aye?" Soap leaned down and captured your lips into a gentle kiss.

Your eyes fluttered close as you felt his lips on yours, soft and chaste. The scent of the bakery around you and the taste of the man before you was overwhelmingly sweet.

When he pulled away, you could only stare at him.

"Yer too pretty for yer own good, bonnie," He smirked, squeezing your cheeks playfully. "Yer shouldn't be giving kisses to strangers."

You blushed hard, feeling the heat from your ears, cheeks and neck.

"I really like the way you speak… And the way you treat me," You muttered shyly. "And you're not a stranger,"

"Am I not?" Soap raised a brow, "We barely know each other, lassie. For all ye know, I could've been a serial killer."

"You wouldn't." You replied immediately. "You're not a bad person... I think," Your lips quirked into a smirk, "You're a softie."

"Oh, ye think so?"

"Mmhm. You're not mean to the staff, and you always give nice compliments,"

"Do I now?" He tilted his head with a smirk, "And how did ye come to that conclusion?"

"I’m secretly super smart," You smiled mischievously.

"Yer a sneaky little lassie," Soap pinched your cheek.

"You have to come back here everyday now, by the way," You puffed your cheeks, "It's not free to kiss the owner's daughter,"

Soap snorted, "Aye, I'll have to come back here every day, then. What a pain."

You giggled and pushed the box of cookies into his arms.

♡ ______ ♡

It's pretty much common sense to get to know someone before dating them but you just can't help it can you? 

"Shite! I've got a fuckin' date, tonight!" Soap cursed as he swung the metal bat one last time into the captive's head, knocking them dead before inspecting the blood splatter on his shirt.

It's good to get to know someone in case they're a serial killer.. Like John 'Soap' McTavish.

Well, contract killer would be a more appropriate term. Assassin even, if you're into technicalities.

"Which poor girl did you force into a date with you?" Ghost snickered as he lazily flipped his dagger as he watched the Scottish man tried to clean his shirt; only to smear the blood more.

"I didnae force anyone! I've been talking to the baker's daughter. She asked me out!"

Ghost scoffed, "The young one? Barely out of school? What is she, 16?"

"She's twenty," Soap glared.

"Jesus Christ," Ghost rolled his eyes, "That's still a kid."

"Fuck off, ye git." Soap muttered before looking for a spare shirt to change into.

Ghost tossed him the packet of wet wipes, "Don't worry, I won't tell Price you're taking advantage of a poor girl."

"I'm not fucking taking advantage of her!"

"You're 11 years older than her, mate." Ghost patted his shoulder and left the warehouse.

Soap grumbled a string of curses and finished cleaning himself up.

♡______ ♡

"Tomato soup?" The way you tilted your head was still as cute as the first time he saw you.

"Aye. The bastard tipped it all over my favourite shirt." Soap said, leaning against the counter.

"Aww," You pouted, "And you didn't get his number? At least make him pay for dry cleaning?"

"Nae, I didnae." Soap's lips twitched upwards, "Didn't get a chance to ask."

"Here lemme look," Your innocent eyes flickered to his shirt, a little blood stained where the button down met the fabric of his pants. You didn't seem to mind as you looked him up and down.

Soap chuckled, "Are ye checking me out, bonnie?"

You blushed and giggled softly.

"M’looking at your shirt, silly! You got some on your pants too.." You lightly scratched at the fabric. "Must've been some thick tomato soup! If I didn't know any better i'd have guessed that it was blood.." You teased.

Soap smirked, "Yer a curious little kitten, aren't ye?"

"Maybe~”

Soap leaned forward and gently grasped your chin, his thumb rubbing over the plump skin of your lips. If only you knewwhat his hands were capable of doing.

What the stains really were...

Would you still have that bright, curious glint in your eyes?

"You're staring, Johnny~"

Soap was shaken out of his thoughts. He was so caught up with his thoughts he didn't realise that he had been staring at your face, his eyes tracing the features that were becoming oh so familiar.

"Yer a beauty, lass." He whispered, voice low and almost gruff.

"You should take a picture, it'll last longer," You joked.

Soap shook his head, "Where would the fun be in that, lassie?"

"Well," You wrapped your arms around his waist and hugged him, burying your face into his chest. "You could also let me stay the night?" Your voice was shy and muffled.

Soap smiled, "Aye, I'd love to have ye in my bed, bonnie."

"Johnny!"

"What? I wasnae lying when I said ye were too pretty fer yer own good,"

"You're being lewd." You poked his chest.

"And ye aren't, aye? Askin' a lad like me to share a bed with ye."

"Shut up, Johnny. You know what I mean,"

"Aye,"

"Johnnyyyyyy!"

"I like yer laugh, bonnie," Soap mumbled into your hair, his lips brushing over the soft strands. "Wanna hear more of it,"

"You'll see me tomorrow."

"Aye, and the day after that,"

"And the day after that, and the day after that,"

Soap hummed, "Yer really going to have to stay the night with me." He tightened his hold on you.

You giggled, "Only if you want to.."

"I do. I do."

"Okay, then,"

Soap leaned down to peck your forehead before scooping you into his arms. You squealed and laughed, hugging his neck.

"Let's go, then, bonnie."

♡ ______ ♡

"W-wait! It's.. It's too big!-" Your eyes were tearing up from the intense pleasure, your voice hoarse and scratchy.

"Come on, bonnie. Ye can take it." Soap panted, his voice gravelly and gruff. "Relax for me, love."

You whimpered as he tried to fit his bulbous cock into your virgin hole. Your tiny cunt was trying to squeeze and suck him in, the wet squelching of your arousal not doing anything to help.

"J-Johnny, it's not gonna fit," You cried, tears streaming down your cheeks.

The older man reached down and rubbed tight circles into your clit, making your whole body twitch in sensitivity.

"O-oh, f-fuck.." You whined, toes curling and fingers grasping at the sheets.

"Language, bonnie,"

"S-Sorry," You mumbled, your pussy clenching and releasing around the head of his cock.

"That's it, bonnie, nice and easy.." Soap pushed further and you cried, a mix of pleasure and pain.

"Johnny, pull out! Pull out!-" You pushed against his chest as he smiled sadistically, forcing his cock into you.

"Relax, lass," He purred, "Ye can take it."

"N-No!-" You screamed. "I c-can't! It's too much! Ah-" His lips latched onto your tender nipple, sucking and nibbling.

"Just a bit more, bonnie," He mumbled. "Almost in.."

"P-please, no! I c-can't!" You sobbed, feeling his large hand on your abdomen, pressing down on your belly.

"Johnnyyyy~" You cried.

"Hush, love," He soothed, his lips latching onto yours.

You whined and moaned as he slowly inched himself into your small body, his hips flush against yours.

"There yer go, bonnie. All of me in yer little cunt," Soap praised, his rough palm cupping your cheek. "Good girl, taking all of me like that,"

You sniffled and nodded, a few stray tears falling. "S'hurts.. You gotta pull out, Johnny.. M'can't take it.."

God, the sight of you spread open under him, your eyes teary and cheeks pink, the way your walls fluttered and gripped his cock, the feeling of you around him, soft and pliant.

It was driving him mad. The feeling of ruining your innocence, the pleasure and satisfaction from taking your first time and the lust from fucking a young and naive girl was overwhelming.

He wanted more.

He wanted to see you break and shatter.

"I will, i will... Gonna pull out just for ye," Soap cooed, pulling out until only the tip remained.

You breathed a sigh of relief.

Soap slammed his hips back into yours, a loud scream and a sob ripped from your throat.

"Aww, poor bonnie.." He cooed, "Didnae mean to hurt ye,"

You couldn't form any coherent sentences as he rutted into you, your body rocking back and forth with the power of his thrusts.

His fingers were tormenting your poor clit, pinching and pulling at the sensitive nub as he smiled with a crazedexpression.

"I-It hurts! S-stop- N-no more!"

"Yer too fuckin' tight, love. So fuckin' good around me,"

"J-Johnny, please.. Help! H-help someone- Mmpff!-"

Soap captured your lips into a messy kiss, his tongue exploring every crevice and cavity. He sucked and licked at the roof of your mouth, his teeth biting at your bottom lip.

"Now, now, bonnie. Yer wouldn't want the neighbours to hear, would ye?" He covered your mouth with his hand and you sobbed, your eyes squeezing shut as he abused your cunt.

"That's it, lassie. Just let me fuck ye, nice and easy,"

Your body was wracked with sobs, torn between pain and pleasure. Your walls were clamping and fluttering around his cock, trying to milk him.

"Such a good girl," Soap moaned, "So good for me, aren't ye?"

"C-Can't breathe.." You whimpered in between sobs.

"But if I lift my hand, yer gonna start screaming and crying again, aren't ye?"

"N-No.."

"Don't lie, love," Soap smirked, "Yer such a naughty girl."

"I p-promise! Please- Need to breathe-" Your face was red from the lack of air and Soap chuckled.

"If ye say so, love," He slowly lifted his hand and you gasped, gulping in the air.

"P-Please! S-slow d-down- Ah!" You threw your head back, nails scratching at his arms.

"Beg fer it, bonnie. Beg fer it,"

"Please, slow down.. I-It's too much- J-Johnny please!" You whimpered.

"Alright, love. I'll give ye a break," Soap smirked, his hips slowing down. "See, I'm not that bad, am I?"

"N-No.." You whimpered softly as he petted your hair

"But I think ye need to thank me fer taking care of yer, hm?"

"T-Thank you," You mumbled, feeling his cock pull out, only the tip remaining.

"Ye think ye can take it a little more, lassie?" Soap grinned, "Ye want more, aye?"

"N-no! P-pull out, please!"

"Come on, love. We've come this far," Soap's voice was low and husky, sending shivers down your spine. "You love me, right? Ye wouldn't leave me hanging like this."

"I-I can't-"

"Oh, but ye can,"

"Please! I can't-"

"Say ye don't love me,"

"..."

"See? Come on.. Yer not a kid, bonnie. Ye can do it,"

"...O-okay, Johnny.."

"That's my good girl.." Soap cooed, pulling out slightly and slamming back into your abused cunt.

You muffled your screams into his shoulder and cried as he continued his ruthless pace. Your pussy was leaking and throbbing, the pleasure of his cock hitting all the right places.

"That's it, bonnie. Take all of me. Such a good girl for me, aren't ye? Ye take all my cock so well," He started playing with your clit and you thrashed, the stimulation becoming too much.

"Ahh-! S-Stop- I-It's too- Too m-much!"

"Yer close, aren't ye, love?"

You nodded frantically, tears streaming down your cheeks. "C-can't- P-pull out- N-Not ins-side-!"

"I'm sorry, bonnie. Can't do that,"

"N-No- Please, p-pull out-!" You sobbed.

"I'm afraid that's not gonna happen, lassie."

"No- N-No- I-It's coming-! P-pull out! N-not inside!" He cut you off with a deep kiss and you moaned, the pressure in your belly reaching its limit.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, your orgasm washing over you. You screamed and thrashed, your back arching.

"There we go, love," Soap growled. "Take my load, love. I'm going to breed ye. Knock ye up, bonnie. Gonna fill ye with my seed," He grunted and came, his warm cum filling your womb and spilling out from the sides.

There was so much of it.

"N-no.. Don't like this.." You whined.

"Shhh," Soap kissed you again, "It's alright, love. Ye did so good,"

"Johnny..." You started crying again and he wrapped his arms around you.

"Shhh, it's okay. I'm here, bonnie. I've got ye," You pushed him away weakly.

"Now, don't be like that, bonnie. I just wanna hold ye." Soap pouted and you shook your head.

"Don't want you.. N-no.."

"But why, love? I thought ye loved me?" He smirked, knowing how you'd react.

"Y-you.. You didn't stop-" You weakly tried to get out of bed, but ended up on the floor.

"Aww, did ye hurt yerself, bonnie?"

"L-Leave me alone!"

Soap frowned, "Now that's not nice, lassie. Watch yer tone with me,"

"N-no! Stay away!"

Soap sighed and walked over to you. He picked you up and laid you back on the bed, your face red and blotchy. You kept on trying to push him away, but you were too weak.

"I'm going to have to clean ye up, aye? Ye wouldn't want to wake up all sticky, would ye?"

"L-Let me go!" You were struggling to push him back.

"Ye have no right to refuse me, bonnie." He said, "If ye keep pushing me, i might have to teach ye a lesson."

You didn't care and kept on trying to get away from him. In the midst of your struggle, you slipped your hands out of his hold and slapped him, hard.

His face turned red and his eyes were wide, a shocked expression on his face. He touched the spot where you hit him and chuckled, his laughter turning into a full blown fit.

"Getting feisty, are we, lassie? Yer a brave one, aren't ye?"

You gulped, afraid. You realised your mistake and quickly scrambled off the bed, stumbling to the other side of the room.

Soap was much faster, his large hands grabbing your waist and throwing you back on the bed. You screamed and tried to hit him, but he was faster.

"What did I tell ye, bonnie?"

"Y-You said n-nothing about this! I thought you were different!-" 

"Aye, ye liked my accent, didn't ye?"

"W-what-?"

"And ye thought I was a good guy, didn't ye? Aye, ye did,"

"I thought-"

"Ye young lassies are the same. So gullible," Soap smirked, his lips hovering near yours.

"Let me go!"

"Now why would I do that? Yer mine and I'm yers. Isn't that right, bonnie?"

You shook your head, tears running down your cheeks.

"That's right. Yer my sweet little girl, and I'm yer Johnny." He pulled you into his chest, a hand threateningly wrapped around your throat from behind. "And that means, yer gonna be nice and all cute with me, and we're gonna get along, aye?"

You sobbed and nodded, not wanting to make him angrier.

"Good, good. I'm glad yer smart, love,"

"L-Let me go, please.. I w-won't tell a-anyone.."

"Now, now. I'll let ye go once we're done here but it doesn't mean you get to go, if you know what I mean," He chuckled.

"D-don't touch me," You tried to sound intimidating but he only found it cute.

"I can't do that, lass. I already told ye. Yer my lassie, and I'm yer man." He kissed your forehead affectionately. "S'okay, yer gonna love it sooner or later, aye?"

"I-I'm scared.."

"No, don't be, love. M'still yer Johnny." He pressed a gentle kiss on the corner of your lips.

You sniffled and relaxed a little.

"Yer still so tense, love. How about we get ye cleaned up, aye?" His deceptively sweet voice contradicting the horror he had put you through.

"Now don't go anywhere.. Or i'll kill ye," He kissed the tip of your nose.

You nodded.

He left the room and went into the bathroom. He brought out a small basin and a washcloth. He soaked the washcloth in the basin and squeezed the excess water out.

"Spread yer legs for me, love. Nice and easy," You obeyed him, not wanting to make him mad.

He gently rubbed the warm cloth between your thighs, cleaning the dried cum and juices. 

"There ye go... Nice and easy.." He cooed as he softly cleaned you up as you whimpered softly.

"There's a good girl, ye did so well.."

You were still sobbing and hiccupping as he placed the washcloth back in the basin.

"Hurts.." You whined.

"What hurts, baby girl?"

"Down there.. Hurts.." Tears fell from your eyes as you complained.

"Aww, ye poor thing.. S'okay, I'll help ye..." He set the basin aside and pulled you into his chest.

You were still sobbing, trying to pull away from him, but his arms held you in place.

"Shhh.. It's okay, love... Ye did so good... Yer my good girl. Did so well for me..."

He gently stroked your hair and soothed you, whispering comforting words in your ear.

"I-It hurts so much.."

"I know.. M'sorry, bonnie.. Ye felt too good, m'couldn't help it.." He cooed, his voice gentle and warm.

"Why'd you have to be so rough? Why'd you have to hurt me like that?"

"S'because, love... Yer such a good girl, m'just wanted to show ye how much I love ye..." He smirked to himself as he watched you slowly relax in his arms.

"But it still hurts.."

"I promise I won't hurt ye like that again.."

"Please don't ever do this to me again.."

"I'm sorry, bonnie.." He cooed as he softly petted your hair.

You were silent except for the soft whimpering and sobbing.

"Are ye mad at me, love?"

"..."

"Ye can say yes, love... M'not mad at ye..."

You shook your head, not sure if you could answer him.

"I dunno.." You were confused, unsure how to feel.

"I'll be a better man, bonnie. I promise, I won't ever hurt ye again. Ye don't deserve to be treated this way."

"P-promise..?" Your tearful doe eyes met his icy blue ones.

"Aye, bonnie. I promise."

"Then I forgive you." You murmured as he hugged you tightly.

"Yer such a kind soul, lassie." He smirked to himself, his fingers gently rubbing the small of your back.

"Thank you.."

"Yer welcome, love."

"Can we get some sleep?" You asked, your voice hoarse. "M'so tired.."

"Aye, we can." He gently laid you down on the bed, kissing your forehead.

"Can you cuddle with me?" Soap’s cock jolted a bit in excitement from how pathetic you sounded.

"Sure, bonnie."

"Thank you..." You sniffled softly into his chest, desperately snuggling the warm skin for comfort.

"There, there.. I'm here, love.."

"I love you, Johnny.."

"M'love ye too, bonnie."

[owlsounds]

"the transcribed adventures of the man with the action-packed expense account – America's fabulous freelance insurance investigator . . ."

FAQ

[mordaciousmurderer]

Home Safe and Sound

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x gn!reader

A/n: GUYS I THINK IM GONNA MAKE THIS A SERIES!! Please lemme know if you like it because this was fun to write. Long story short, you were in a bar and you go up to Ghost pretending to know him to get him away from a creepy guy. as always asks are open

cw: gn!reader, mentions of alcohol, attempted roofie, implied attempted assault if you look close enough, no use of y/n, and yea i had you call him johnny on purpose, can be read as gender neutral but if this continues on i plan on making the reader fem!

-

The varied sounds of a bar muffled at the back of Simon’s ears. The sun amber glow of lights stretched along tables and chairs. His sharp, steely eyes surveyed the room before he pushed the fabric of his mask up to the bridge of his nose to take a sip from the whiskey class nestled in his grip. The air was thick with the scent of aged whiskey and the low murmur of distant conversations, but Ghost remained in his own world.

As the minutes stretched on, the gentle sounds of chatter and clinking glasses were disrupted by your soft and hurried footsteps. You approached Ghost with an air of urgency, your eyes wild with a mixture of fear and determination. “Excuse me.” She whispered urgently. “Please pretend you know me.”

Ghost's gaze softened as he looked at you recognizing the genuine fear in your eyes. It took him a moment and a half to register what was happening but you wasted to time in creating a character.

“Oh my god Johnny is that you?” You asked excitedly. “Never thought I’d see your balaclava covered mug again!” with an enthusiastic grin you wrapped your arms around him in a hug. Ghost felt his cheeks heat up oil pastel pink and blinked in confusion for a quick second before he snapped out of his daze and hugged you back.

“Yes! Wow it’s lovely to see you!” His gruff voice shocked you ever so slightly. You had picked the biggest guy you could find within 20 feet of you, grateful that he sounded as tough as he looked. You glanced to the side, a slight glimmer of panic flashing through your eyes. He mirrored the path your eyesight took and saw the man you were clearly trying to escape.

The man, clad in tattered leather and exuding an unwelcome persistence, oozed an unsettling aura that made the air around him feel suffocating. He planted himself obviously maybe a few yards away from you, watching closely like a damn private investigator.

Ghost laid a hand on your shoulder to redirect your attention to him. “Are you here for Angelica’s after party?” He asks

“Oh yeah! I didn’t know you and her were still friends.” You respond

“Yeah. Do you need a ride home after?”

“Oh that’d be great! My designated driver had a little too much to drink.” You faked a laugh.

The man shifted in the corner of your eye before stuffing his hands in his pockets and exiting the bar. As soon as the door shuts behind him you exhale and rest against the bar, your head falling heavy in your hands. “Holy fuck. Thank you so much. That guy-“ You came to a sudden halt, every breath you took felt as though it burned your lungs.

“Are you alright?” He asked, offering her a reassuring presence amidst the lingering unease. “Who was that guy?”

You shook your head, still pressed in your hands. “I don’t know he just wouldn’t leave me alone I think he tried to roofie me.”

Magma hot rage boiled up in the back of Ghost’s throat, embarrassed by the level of degeneracy that man reached. He pushed the vile malice back down. “You’re safe now.” He reassured you. “Are you able to get home safely?”

“Yes I just gotta.. call an uber.” Your voice still carrying the edge of residual anxiety. Your DD getting too drunk unfortunately was not part of the bit. You weren’t truly drunk but absolutely not sober enough to drive.

“I’ll wait with you until it arrives.” Ghost slaps a 50 dollar bill on the bar. “I want her tab paid too. Keep the change.”

You quickly shook your head “No no you don’t have to-“

“Don’t worry.” He interjects plainly and you smile in response A mix of gratitude and relief washed over your features as you tapped in your destination to your phone. "Thank you, really. You have no idea how much this means to me." Your gratitude oozed out of you. You gave him your name once the confirmation of your uber had come through.

“I’m Simon.” He responds. The idea of you sitting in an uber with a stranger was definitely disconcerting. “Here, let me give you my number. I want to make sure you get home just fine.” He held his hand out expectantly and you placed your unlocked phone in his hand.

“That’s very kind of you…” A swell of gratitude enveloped you as you looked at him, your eyes filled with a profound appreciation for the stranger who had become your unexpected savior. “I’m sorry to have interrupted your night.”

He shook his head “Do not apologize, it wasn’t your fault. You had the right idea comin’ up to me.”

You looked down at your phone after it pinged then held up up, wiggling it slightly to indicate the arrival of your uber. The two of you stood up and he made a gesture allowing you to go first. He followed you out of the crowded building and you pointed at the car that had come to take you home. The chill in the air pierced through you like a thousand icy needles, causing you to shudder involuntarily as you stepped out into the night. “Thank you again.” You crossed your arms tight to your chest in effort to warm up.

Ghost unslung his jacket, draping it over your shoulders as a shield against the biting cold. A true gentlemanly gesture that had no ulterior motive other than his concern for your well-being. Your cheeks flushed warmly at the gesture and you hoped he would blame the blush on the cold.

“It’s no problem at all. Don’t forget to text me when you’re home safe.” He opens the car door for you and you settle in the back seat.

“It was nice meeting you.” You respond. The two of you exchange a smile and a nod. In that fleeting exchange, an unspoken bond had woven itself between you two, a connection forged in your vulnerability. He shut the door and watched as the car pulled away.

As the Uber drove away from the dimly lit bar, you got settled in the back seat, wrapped in Simon’s jacket. Its familiar warmth a reminder of the stranger who had come to your aid. The events of the evening played out in your mind like a vivid tableau.

The unspoken understanding between the two of you lingered in your thoughts as the Uber drove longer. Your apartment wasn’t too far away from the bar so before you knew it the familiar building came into view. You gripped at the comforting fabric of the jacket, now guilty for leaving him without his own way to combat the chill in the air. As the Uber came to a halt you thanked the driver humbly before hurrying into the apartment complex and up the stairs to your home.

Your mind found itself looping around the thought of Simon and how kind he was to you. Why you felt safe going up to this masked man puzzled you, but regardless you thought you made the right choice. You made sure to lock your door and went around to shut and lock all your windows, still on edge from the previous events. Pulling out your phone, you went to your contacts to find a new one amidst all the others. You pulled up a new text thread titled with his name and you typed up a message:

‘Home safe and sound. Thank you again Simon :)’

-

Masterlist

[clovermarigold]

Some fun little intro interactions

Based on my series Smoke & Ice

heads up, some have more lines than others

Liu Kang

Liu Kang: I am truly sorry for your loss

Calla: And yet you did nothing to prevent it

~~~

Liu Kang: I had nothing to do with the megáli fotiá

Calla (sarcastic): The God of Fire played no role in the burning of the old grove?

~~~

(After act 1)

Calla: Did you have to choose Johnny?

Liu Kang: His flaws aren't without their strengths. But yes, I understand your pain

~~~

Smoke: Wait, did you plan this?

Liu Kang: I merely set the return of the Hamadryad into motion. Your coupling was entirely of your own will

Bi han

Raiden: It is not shameful to admit that--

Bi han: Do not finish that sentence

~~~

Kuai Liang: Johnny tells me you have taken interest with the Matron

Bi han: That man is a fool

~~~

Bi han: Your treatment of your subjects is far too lenient

Calla: I will discipline Miche as I see fit

~~~

Calla (Laughing): You have no idea how to handle children do you?

Bi han: Is my harassment amusing to you?!

~~~

(After the betrayal)

Calla: You and your Lin Kuei are no longer welcome here, Bi han

Bi han: you once said the same thing when we first met

~~~

Calla: Return Miche to me!

Bi han: Not until the Hamadryad submit to the Lin Kuei

Johnny Cage

Johhny: Twenty bucks Calla gets with Bi han

Kenshi: Are you seriously suggesting we gamble on their relationship?

~~~

Kenshi: Thirty dollars she prefers Tomas

Johhny: A man after my own heart

~~~

Calla: What's this I hear about you betting on my love life

Johnny: Don't get mad! But I lost ten dollars

~~~

Kung Lao: You've really pissed off Kenshi this time

Johnny: He's into me and he knows it

~~~

Kenshi: Bet you're really missing your mansion now

Johnny: You kidding? I'd kill for a hot bath and a real bed

Smoke

Calla: Miche has taken quite the liking to you

Smoke: He is quite talented. With training he will make a fine Hamadryad

~~~

Johnny: You know we all saw you eying up Calla at the Banquet

Smoke: I wasn't too obvious, was I?

~~~

Calla: How was your history lesson with Miche?

Smoke: He spent over an hour explaining Dryadian adoption culture.

~~~

Smoke: How would you feel about being an uncle?

Kuai Liang: I take it the Dryad boy has grown on you

~~~

(After the betrayal)

Calla: Bi han is the last person I will allow to stab me in the back

Smoke: Know that my loyalty to you will never falter

Kuai Liang

Kuai Liang: My brothers think fondly of you

Calla: oh... um. And I them

~~~

Calla: Your Harumi is truly a remarkable woman

Kuai Liang: I could not have asked for a better partner

~~~

(After the betrayal)

Kuai Liang: How could you betray your own clan? Calla?

Bi han: I do what I must for the Lin Kuei

~~~

Calla: I want him back!

Kuai Liang: We will find him. Bi han couldn't have taken him far

~~~

Kuai Liang: I look forward to calling you sister

Calla: So forward, Kuai Liang. Did Tomas put you up to this

~~~

Kuai Liang: You have chosen a wonderful partner, brother

Smoke: I could ask for nothing else

[citizenscreen]

John Lund and Jay Novello working on a 1952 episode of one of my favorite old-time radio programs, “Yours Truly, Johnny Dollar.”

[tending-the-hearth]

The outsiders obc album: a review that is totally not biased or skewed due to the face that i’ve been listening to it nonstop since it came out two weeks ago

“Tulsa ‘67”

Goes insane over the first line of the song because it’s the same as the opening of the book

Since this song/story is being written after everything happens, ponyboy recognizing how hard his brothers work in the opening verse makes SO much sense

“That right there is my best friend in the whole world, johnny cade” idk what it is about this line but it just makes me so happy

But ponyboy pointing out that part of what makes a soc a soc is graduation parties actually makes me so sad because so many members of the gang ended up dropping out of school in order to work so of course they’d view graduating as a privilege they don’t have, and that plays so well into darry and pony’s last fight at the end of the show

“CAUSE WE’RE GREASERS” the silliest gang ever <3

It’s just such a good opening number, the beat and music is so entertaining

“Grease got a Hold”

JOSHUA BOONE YOU ARE THE DALLY EVER

Him constantly calling pony “little brother” is everything

The spelling section of the song is SO fun

“E is for effortless swagger” and soda uses ponyboy and johnny to hold himself up they’re his little brothers!!!

“Show us how it’s done, then, einstein!” soda and two-bit are best friends!!!!

Also daryl tofa absolutely killing it on the run of “you better run for your life”

You only really get this from seeing the song live, but darry keeps ponyboy away from the rest of the gang during his section of the song until he makes sure that ponyboy knows what being a greaser truly means, he is such a big brother

“I love you superman” ace ily ily ily kissing your cheeks

Again, not part of the soundtrack but the performance, but the moment where ponyboy gets the upper hand in his little play-fight with two-bit, and dally gets so excited and starts jumping up and down with the rest of the gang like they are siblings!!!

“Runs in the Family”

Darry loml i know you’re having an identity crisis but this song is such a vibe

“So i dropped out of school cause i had to earn a dollar” the little dance i do every time i hear this line

vibes to the song so i don’t have to deal with the emotions i get as a parentified older sibling identifying with this song far too closely

“Now i’m stuck between the role of a brother and a father” someone get this man a hug and some therapy PLEASE I’M BEGGING YOU

I always love a little bit of an unreliable narrator, so the audience hearing this song and knowing how much darry is struggling, meanwhile ponyboy is SO sure and SO positive that darry truly doesn’t care about him is absolute perfection

“Great Expectations”

This song literally made me cry my eyes out the first time i listened to it, and then seeing the staging for it during the show??? 

But also ponyboy acknowledging that darry had a future, and how he had to sacrifice that after their parents died, and understanding his struggle

Honestly there aren’t words to describe my love for this song, it’s so beautiful and well-written, and brody’s voice is just so fantastic

“Friday at the Drive-In”

Again, the beat of this song is SO good!!!

emma pittman’s voice is everything to me

The instrumental for this song is “grease got a hold” i’m losing my mind!!!

This song is also just such a fun, easy-going song, that it works at feeling slightly out of place with how fun and lighthearted it is, especially knowing what’s going to happen soon

"I Could Talk to You All Night"

CUTIE PATOOTIE ALERT

I never have viewed cherry and ponyboy as having romantic interest in each other (maybe ponyboy with a little crush on her, but they become friends post-book events), and this song is just so perfect with showing why they connect with each other, because they understand each other

Have i mentioned how much i adore musical!cherry??? 

“And we talked so dang much i didn’t even catch the end” i love how perfect the accents are in this show, it’s really satisfying lmao 

Cherry being the first one who’s ever truly listened to ponyboy my heart hurts

“Runs in the Family (Reprise)”

AHHHH THIS SONG

There’s just so much tension, and soda trying to be the middle man like always while darry is singing??? Painful

But also this song does such a good job at showing that it’s not even been a full year since the curtis parents died, so the boys are still grieving and processing, so it makes sense that this is a fight that’s happening

But ugh the way that the song ends with the slap???? Curled up sobbing

“Far Away from Tulsa”

I LOVE THIS SONG SO MUCH

I also really love how johnny joins in a little hesitantly, like he’s not sure if ponyboy wants him contributing, but then as soon as he starts he talks about having a little garden and reading stories

Now i’m thinking about post-book, the remaining outsiders gang turns the empty lot into a type of community garden in johnny and dally’s honor oh i’m going to be ill

“We’d be each other’s family, Pony, start this life anew” SOBBING MY EYES OUT JOHNNY KNOWING EXACTLY WHAT PONYBOY WANTS AND PONYBOY KNOWING WHAT JOHNNY WANTS THEY’RE THE PLATONIC SOULMATES EVER

God and then the song going into “great expectations” literal chills

“Run Run Brother”

Brody does Ponyboy’s panic SO perfectly you can feel his fear when he just keeps repeating “he stuck him in the back!”

Like he’s not freaking out about bob dying, he’s freaking out about the fact that johnny could get arrested

Mother hen Dally my beloved

“I hate to make you go” and “even though it kills me to say” those lines are everything, i love Dally just wanting to keep his little brothers close but knowing he needs to get them somewhere safe immediately

And the line “you’re a greaser now” getting repeated at the end???? I’m going insane, it doesn’t sound fun or happy anymore, it just sounds like a warning and almost like johnny and ponyboy are being taunted

“Justice for Tulsa”

Dally immediately calling out the cops for always going after the greasers and calling them his boys???? Obsessed with protective dally

Again, musical!cherry is everything to me, she doesn’t try to make excuses for what Bob did, she calls him and Randy out for drinking and ganging up on Ponyboy and Johnny, and calls Randy out for jumping Johnny the week before

Like in the book and movie she makes excuses and puts all the blame on johnny, but in the musical, even though she’s sad that bob’s dead, she understands why johnny did what he did, and doesn’t blame him for what happened

“Death’s at my Door”

Emotional damage

Jesus CHRIST the absolute slap in the face this song was during the show

Ponyboy blaming himself for everything??? Thinking he’s cursed because everyone he loves keeps dying or getting hurt??? Ouch???

But then johnny immediately jumping into reassure him and making sure ponyboy knows that he’s not alone??? They are the best friends ever???

I haven’t talked about how beautiful Sky’s voice is, if he doesn’t win a tony award i will riot

“The reason i’m living is you” SOBBING VIOLENTLY ON THE GROUND HEAVING AND HYPERVENTILATING

Johnny saying “i’ll never leave you alone” and it’s true even after he dies because he knows ponyboy will see him in the sunset that they always talked about and i’m going to go curl up in a corner for a little bit

“Throwing in the Towel”

Emotional damage part 2

Parentified older siblings how are we feeling about this song

Darry finally talking to his brother about how he’s feeling, and getting validation from Sodapop that what he’s been doing is being noticed and making a difference!!

But darry recognizing what Ponyboy can do and his potential and blaming himself for what happened and, like ponyboy, telling soda that he’d be better off without him

“I lost our brother and i lost my way” SOBBING VIOLENTLY ON THE GROUND PART 2

Darry is TWENTY in the books and never got a chance to truly mourn his parents it makes sense how much he struggles

Ponyboy joining in the song from the back of the set like it actually makes me want to bite something

Brent Comer how does it feel to understand darry like no one else <3333333

“Brother that’s what love is all about” JASON SCHHMIDT THE FACT THAT YOU WEREN’T NOMINATED FOR A TONY IS A CRIME

(they should have just nominated the entire cast for supporting or featured actor at this point tbh)

“Soda’s Letter”

Jason making me sob!!!!! 

“Ponyboy this house ain’t a home without you” this song just starts out punching you in the gut

Idk why but soda including “say hi to johnny for us” makes me emotional, like the curtis brothers love johnny as much as they love pony he is also their little brother!!!

Brent comer i will fight you for the end of this song

“Hoods turned Heroes”

DARYL AND JASON KILL THIS SONG ACTUALLY THEY’RE THE UNDERRATED DUO OF THIS SHOW

New hc because of this song is that Soda and Two-Bit are as close to each other as Pony and Johnny are

i love love love the "owe it all to Pony and Johnny" line, because they recognize what the two have been through, and also acknowledge that yeah, it's because of them that they're getting a little bit better of a reputation!

Also again, not part of the album, but the song is so hyped and excited and happy and then immediately gets cut by Dally walking onto the stage with Johnny wrapped in bandages and my heart BROKE

“Hopeless War”

Favorite change is cherry going to visit johnny in the hospital and that being where she and pony have their conversation

What i love about this song is that it isn’t cherry going “this is silly, you shouldn’t do this” it’s cherry realizing that what happened to johnny was never deserved, why the rumble is important, and knowing that it’s going to happen, but her also acknowledging, like ponyboy does, that it’s not going to change anything. 

I’m just so obsessed with emma’s voice and how she portrays cherry in the show

“Trouble”

I absolutely LOVE how aggressive and intense this song is, especially compared to “Hopeless War” coming right before it

I love “tonight” from West Side, and this song gives me those vibes, i love a good pre-rumble song

DARRY STILL LOOKING OUT FOR PONYBOY AND WANTING TO FIGHT FOR HIM 

PONYBOY TAKING THE “LET’S DO IT FOR JOHNNY” LINE

“Little Brother” 

Emotional damage part 3

The way the song starts out so soft and slow, and it building up and up as Dally becomes more and more worked up and looses it

“If anything were fair you would still be here” AND THAT’S THE POINT OF THE SHOW AND OF THE BOOK IT ISN’T FAIR THAT JOHNNY DIES IT’S FAIR THAT BOB DIES BUT JOHNNY DIDN’T DESERVE TO DIE AND IT’S THE REALIZATION THAT EVEN THOUGH JOHNNY COULD DO SO MUCH MORE HE STILL DIES AND LEAVES THE PEOPLE WHO LOVE HIM BEHIND

“Do it for Ponyboy, do it for Johnny Cade” THOSE ARE HIS BROTHERS YOUR HONOR

The way Joshua just screams the last “Johnny can you hear me now?” absolutely destroys me, the song itself is all over the place, and it makes sense because it’s Dally’s breakdown

“Stay Gold”

Emotional damage part 4

When i saw the show the instruments were really quiet while Sky was singing so all you could hear was him and then the sounds of people quietly sobbing and sniffling (it was me)

Going from “i have seen a pool of blood run crimson red” to “i have stared into a thankful father’s eyes” johnny going from taking a life to saving lives i’m losing my mind actually

Not to be annoying about them again but Brody and Sky’s voices literally melt together and their emotions are so beautifully portrayed as they sing, going from melancholy to joyful as Ponyboy starts to accept Johnny’s death

And “I have known a love that many never know, and our love lives on no matter where I go” IT’S ABOUT THE PLATONIC LOVE OF THIS GROUP AND THE LOVE PONY AND JOHNNY HAVE FOR EACH OTHER AND HOW FRIENDSHIPS ARE STRONGER THAN ANYTHING ELSE AND I’M JUST GOING TO CRAWL IN A HOLE AND DIE THEY’RE PLATONIC SOULMATES

Ponyboy having the last “Stay Gold” line 

“Finale (Tulsa ‘67)”

Darry reading the starting lines like Ponyboy did at the beginning of the show 

Ponyboy going from idolizing fictional heroes to looking at his brothers as his heroes because they’re the reason he’s going to be able to make it out of Tulsa????

Just the way he sings about how Darry is the toughest guy he knows, and how Soda is the heart and soul of the family, how earnest and loving he is when singing it

“Trying to look tough so they're not beaten down again” in connection to Dally makes me sob, him using the grease and toughness as a cover so he doesn’t get hurt again

And this reprise of the song just feeling so much lighter and happier, compared to the opening, when ponyboy was talking about how everything was unbalanced and the differences between the Greasers and the Socs, how he and his brothers were struggling, to the finale being so hopeful and encouraging, because Ponyboy’s had his realizations, he’s reconnected with his brothers, he’s accepted Johnny and Dally’s deaths, but he’s making a choice to keep going

And also at the end, where “We’re greasers” was repeated in the opening song, it’s now been changed to “Stay Gold” being repeated 

And the entire show ENDING with “Stay gold”???????

yeah i'm so so normal about this show i promise

[gaykarstaagforever]

Original Air Date: November 18th, 1956

Total Expenses: $968.20 ($11,117.64 in 2024. You have got to be kidding me, Johnny.)

Johnny flies to San Francisco to find out why a rich woman with expensive insurance policies seems to have fallen off the face of the Earth. I guess because the flamboyant agent who was handling the policies got scared...? As usual with these, why the hell Johnny "is the only one who can help" is poorly explained. They also don't explain where most of that nearly $1000 goes.

Because this is yet another "mystery" he solves by illegally going into people's houses to yell at them for a week until someone randomly confesses the crime to him. The rest of his time is evidently spent totally not flirting with that flamboyant guy.

He doesn't drink in this one that we see, which is shocking, but in that, plot-relevant: he only suspects he's onto the mystery when he asks for a sherry after barging into a man's house, and the guy won't give it to him. Later he refuses another drink a woman offers him, but that's only so he can keep a clear head as he's threatening her.

He actually prevents a murder in this one. Which is impressive, because normally people start driving off of cliffs and catching fire as soon as he shows up.

The episode ends with Johnny's actor Bob Bailey telling the audience they need to pray more to thank Almighty God for letting them live in America. Thanksgiving was damn serious business during the Cold War.

[homesweetgoodneighbor]

I just woke up. It is 3am. It is quiet and soft. I made some tea and am sitting in the living room with "Yours Truly Johnny Dollar" on my retro style radio crocheting. Yesterday I did the same in the morning with a rainstorm outside the open windows.

I almost wish I had good recording equipment to share times like these.

I would introduce the video softly saying "It's 3am. You are in the living room with only the lamp and the cats to keep you company. Your partner is softly sleeping in the bedroom, and you can hear the noisemaker. The tea is on the tray next to you and your projact is on your lap. Johnny Dollar is on the radio. You are warm and safe."

This is a moment that is so lovely and nice I wish I could share it with y'all.

[dollarbin]

Shakey Sundays #37:

Trans, Part 2

Every artist worthy of your Dollar Bin buck has at least one wacky identity crisis record.

Joni declared God a boogie man and life one big Pork Pie Hat; a few years later she went full synth on Dog Eat Dog; Cat Stevens decided songs should be 18 minutes long and then dedicated a record to the Pythagorean Theorem; Sandy Denny tried out war-era white jazz under a thatched roof; Lou Reed strove to make an album that was entirely unlistenable; and Paul Simon dedicated years and millions of dollars to a musical about a caped Puerto Rican vampire kid...

And, of course, you've got your pick of midlife crisis Dylan records: most of his records fit that description. Prior to dedicating the equivalent of 5 albums in a row to Sinatra, he did everything from a cowboy soundtrack to 80's reggae, not to mention the still largely incomprehensible Self Portrait.

But for me, Neil Young's Trans remains, hands down, the very best identity crisis record in the dollar bin. I see I got my copy for 92 cents. And, now that I've dedicated an entire 65,000 word post to both exorcising and exercising my own personal demons associated with Trans, it's time that we settled in and talked about its actual songs.

First of all, Trans would be far better as an Eldorado length EP. Three of the album's songs have no place on the record thematically or musically; rather, Little Thing Called Love, the interminable Like An Inca and Hold On To Your Love belong on a Shakey / Joe Freakin' Lala duo record with the working title of Johnny's Island of Steaming Hot Dog Waste, or something akin to that: it's a perfectly dull set of songs which Young's new boss at that time, David Geffen, labeled as lousy.

(I'm going out on a limb with that conclusion because I have yet to hear all of the newly released tracks from those sessions that appear on Archives 3; my famous brother is probably choking on his microbrewed sourbeer in rage and swearing by Neil's yacht rock phase as we speak.)

Disappointingly, as near as I can tell Archives 3 doesn't offer any new truly Trans songs; Young apparently just recorded five core songs with his wall of machines.

(I don't consider the Mr Soul on this record a core song; Young says he jokingly recorded it as a Buffalo Springfield reunion audition tape. No wonder they never got back together.)

But forget about Mr Soul: I'm here to argue that every single one of Trans' original five songs is a winner.

Let's consider them in order.

Computer Age is a top twenty Neil Young track. If the whole record were this good we'd all talk about Trans in hushed tones and toss around descriptive words like masterpiece and mothercuddler. But Computer Age is the album's high water mark.

First of all, the song freakin' rocks: I totally dig its groove and hooks. Computer Age makes me want to cook up a six course meal made entirely out of recycled semi-conductors, all while dancing. Computer Age! Computer Age!

To my ears, Computer Age is the only piece of music on this record, or, frankly, on any of Neil's records between Re-Ac-Tor and This Notes for You, which sounds 100% finished and successful. Neil has plenty of visions; occasionally he fully nails one of them. The vocoder vocals all make sense to me here. The pacing is both stately and frantic. The bridge swoons.

We R In Control is nearly as good and twice as nuts.

The day I lose my mind entirely and start blogging here about how there was no moon landing and how Hilary Clinton is a Taiwanese super spy android, please know that I have adopted We R In Control as my personal theme song. And while you are at it, please get me some help.

There are more competing hooks in this song than in The Cure's Fascination Street - and I've counted, there are at least seven hooks in that song. Plus every one of Neil's hooks is bonkers. Whoop! Whoop! Whoop! Whoop! He attempts everything in the song: he swings; he stomps; he performs a solo on an 80s-era telephone's digital keypad.

Song three, Transformer Man, should be the other fully successful track on the record. After all, it's a truly beautiful song, a fact Neil admitted 10 years later on MTV Unplugged.

I love how there's one single nerd-club-level Shakey guy in the audience who recognizes this song as it opens - you can hear him let out a shocked Yeah! while everyone else fingers their MTV-issued bowls of mixed nuts and wine coolers and wonders what's up.

The summer that this live version of Transformer Man came out I was at journalism camp (yeah, Journalism Camp). Midweek I derailed an entire class taught by the LA Reader's music critic by complimenting his citing of this song as the only redeemable moment on the live record. He looked at me dumbfounded: a 17 year old existed who enjoyed Trans. The rest of the class sighed and waited for a resumption of normalcy. It took a while.

But the song's original take makes a critical mistake: Neil occasionally shuts off the vocal altering vocoder. Every time we hear snatches of his almost normal singing voice we get distracted.

See what I mean? When Neil's computerized pinprick of a voice quivers this song is shimmies. But when we know it's him singing we're disappointed and want to hear On The Beach.

Happily, there is not a single note on Computer Cowboy that sounds like standard Shakey.

Neil has spilled a lot of ink outlining his thematic intentions with this record; I think a lot of what he was trying to say is actually really valuable, and I'll get into all of that in my eventual post for Trans, Part 3.

But, try as he might to tell his interviewers that Computer Cowboy is a deep think piece centering around a cattle rancher by day who's a hacker by night and the implications of that guy's whole deal on life as we know it, this song has no possible justification, and that's makes it wonderful. Back in 1993, long after the Dylan show I chronicled in Part 1, all 5 or 6 adolescent boys in my bedroom and I definitely fell down laughing hysterically when Neil got to his "yippee-yi-yippee-yi-ay" fade out. He may continue to take this whole project seriously, but Trans is also just ridiculously funny.

Sample and Hold stands alongside Computer Age as the record's other attempt at something vital. There's just a lot of ambition to be heard in the track. Neil thought a lot about, well, something or other while working on this song.

Young issued an extended dance remix of the song in 1982 but left that version off Archives 3. A critical mistake!

I can't think of anything insightful to say about Sample and Hold other than please, go listen to it.

We know you'll be happy.

[melis-writes]

Prompt for Victoria being with Michael in Cuba on one of his trips. Sex in a big fancy hotel room after a day at the beach and/or pool club, both wearing swimmers all day!!

Oooooh, yes!! A fun, sexy trip putting all that business aside for a little while with Michael and Victoria. 🥴 Just imagining wet Michael stepping out of the pool is enough… Bit on the longer end with a major warning for lots and lots of smut in this prompt. 🥵🥵🥵

Most of Nevada and New York may know just who you and Michael are for all the right and wrong reasons, but the infamous Corleone couple matters little outside the country as Michael discovered with his own identity when he first flew to Cuba.

Physical distance aside, Michael’s first visit to Cuba a few years back promised danger for himself with all signs pointing to convenient assassinations—hence why Michael absolutely refused to take you and the children with him.

Sleeping alone and wondering about your husband over two thousand miles away from night to night never compared to raising two little ones missing their father too, especially with such risk.

Michael and his only trusted business partner in Cuba communicated through associates and out of state visits, but with Hyman Roth and Johnny Ola both dead and out of the way, Michael has more than just claims and inheritance with his name on it in Cuba.

Being able to fly down without the possibility of discovering betrayal or planning someone else’s death as revenge sates Michael’s craving for your presence.

After all, Michael knows if it’s truly up to him with your safety secured, then he’s never against the idea of bringing his wife with him upon business trips.

Opting for a private jet to take you both to Cuba in the lap of luxury, Michael keeps an arm over your hips upon the leather loveseat you both sit together on.

“Thank you,” you smile up at the hostess who pours the two of you glasses of five-hundred dollar bubbling champagne.

Michael takes a glance at his 18k gold wristwatch before taking his champagne glass and taking a small sip from it—never opting for anything else but red wine from time to time.

“How do you feel, sweetheart?” Michael’s eyes fall upon yours.

You hold your champagne glass in your hand, letting out a soft sigh through your travel exhaustion beginning to grow on you, but your overall excitement to spend the trip with Michael overpowers it with the soft smile over your lips. “I can definitely say it’s the longest flight I’ve ever been on.”

“Fifteen hours.” Michael adjusts his watch, giving your hips a gentle rub. “We’re halfway through. Time’s passing by much more quickly.”

“I can guess why.” You peek up at your husband, drinking your champagne. “You’re not as stressed or insistent to go. Not like last time.”

“Mm. You weren’t with me last time, yet you know?” A hint of amusement flashes in Michael’s eyes.

“I know you too well, baby.” You blush, leaning up to give Michael’s cheek a kiss. “We’re replacing that memory as we speak.”

“Believe me, I’d like to above all.” Michael exhales deeply, relaxing in his seat. “I didn’t imagine there would be anything for our family in Havana after Roth and Ricci.”

“You’re a good man, Michael.” You place your hand over Michael’s upon your waist. “And yet again, everything’s worked out for our family.”

“That’s all that matters.” Michael gazes back at you. “There’s more ‘rest and relaxation’ than anything this time around.”

“So you can think of it as a vacation instead of a business trip.” You hug his arm, taking another sip of your champagne. “It’ll help relax you.”

“Only for you, darling.” Michael sets down his drink, lacing his hand with yours. “I aim to make up for all the time I couldn’t spend with you elsewhere.”

“Business aside, I still have you mostly to myself.” You squeeze Michael’s hand, smiling shyly. “I’m just happy to support you always, baby.”

Your arrival to the luxurious hotel booked under “Mr. and Mrs. Corleone” is nothing short of surprises from the private limousine ride onward.

A five class hotel known all too well for being booked months in advance with a separate, VIP wing for presidential suites on each floor with the best room available with security is all for you and Michael to enjoy alone.

A private pool remains just outside the suite on the main balcony, away from prying and curious eyes while the back balcony contains a hot tub able to comfortably fit up to twenty people.

Boasting two thousand square feet throughout the suite with three bedrooms, four bathrooms, a steam room and gas fireplace with twenty-four hour unlimited service, Michael’s ensured nothing but the best of comfort and enjoyment for you.

“Oh my God,” you mouth to yourself in awe from the moment you step into the suite.

“It reminds me of what you told me when we were still getting to know one another,” holding your hand, Michael leads you inside as his and your luggage is neatly placed inside of the room. “Memories over material items?”

Your cheeks flare up with blush, surprised from Michael remembering such a detail. “But that didn’t apply for our first anniversary or my birthday when you bought us a villa in Sicily and a new car for me?”

“I told you,” Michael chuckles quietly, locking the suite door behind him. “You deserve the best and only the best. That is what you shall have.”

“This place is so beautiful, I don’t know what to say.” You shake your head, finding something new and exhilarating to look at with every glance you take. “Did you stay in a suite like this when you first came?”

“Not quite.” Michael follows you over to the balcony. “A VIP suite nonetheless, the best the hotel had to offer but it pales in comparison to this. I spent very little time in there,” Michael’s eyes dart over yours expectantly as you both walk out into the balcony. “Until a call came in from Lake Tahoe.”

Furiously blushing, you turn your head away. “I’m jetlagged and being teased at the same time. Oh, I can’t believe you remember that.”

But then again, that was one of the few and intimate times you and Michael dirty talked to each other on call and had phone sex—touching yourselves to each others voices and teasing.

“Another reason why it’s good for the children to spend time with their grandparents while we’re here.” Michael pulls you close to his body by your hips. “You’re mine,” Michael’s eyes meet yours, smoldering with desire. “And I’ll take you in every bed and room this suite has.”

A rush of arousal tingles through your body as your breath hitches. “You owe me that much.”

“Do I?” Michael raises a brow. “I won’t have any use for this,” Michael tugs on his silk tie, “certainly not over your mouth. The walls are soundproof.”

“If you want me to beg, Don Corleone…” You wrap your arms around Michael’s shoulders, teasing him. “You certainly know how.”

“You haven’t seen anything yet.” Michael’s hand travels underneath your little black dress, caressing your inner thigh. “Go into the central suite’s bathroom. You’ll find something in your favour upon the countertop. I’ll be right behind you.”

You whine softly, “you’re just teasing me. You are.”

“Am I?” Michael gives your ass a firm smack, gesturing back inside the suite. “Go on.”

Biting down on your lip, you enter back into the suite and feel arousal continuing to rush and pump through you with every step you take.

Sensing Michael behind you, you make your way into the master bathroom and turn on the lights—seeing two sinks over quartz countertops, two grand ornate mirrors with gold finishes, sparkling marble floors and a massive bathtub to your right but nothing over the countertop.

You glance up in the mirror to see Michael’s reflection just behind you, but before you can express confusion or say anything else, you feel his firm hands suddenly pressing your hips to bend over the countertop.

“Michael!” You gasp out, clutching onto the countertop for balance.

“I told you.” Michael’s hands snake up your dress, pulling down your panties to your ankles. “You would get what you were searching for.”

“Oh my God,” you whimper, looking back at him over your shoulder. “Michael, please—”

“You wore this dress again.” Michael’s eyes burn back into yours as he hikes up the tight dress over your hips. “You remember what I told you about it last time?”

“Who says I forgot?” You breathe, clenching your legs together.

“Don’t.” Michael narrows his eyes, forcefully spreading them open. “I’m not going to give you what you want just yet.”

“I—Ooh!” Your eyes widen in pleasant surprise as Michael swiftly lowers his head down, planting a wet kiss over your spread pussy. “M-Michael…”

Michael’s hot, wet tongue brushes up against your clit in flickering motions, sending waves of pulsating arousal through you.

You squeeze your eyes shut, unable to stop the breathy little moans and whimpers escaping for your lips as your body begs for more.

Michael keeps both of his hands over your ass, squeezing and spanking as his tongue hungrily darts over your dripping sex.

“Oh my God, yes!” You cry out as Michael slobbers down over your pussy, pushing his mouth over it as he laps up your wetness.

The stimulation over your clit from Michael’s stubble brushing up against it causes you to roll your eyes back from pleasure, building up a delicious orgasm in the pit of your stomach.

Helplessly watching yourself in the mirror as your hands begin to shake against the countertops, Michael continues to suck over your clit and let his spit slobber in and around your tight heat.

Licking and slurping upwards at your clit, Michael never stops his greedy pace. You gyrate your hips downward towards his mouth, having to clasp your hand over your mouth to silence yourself.

Just as you feel you’re on the verge of cumming, Michael’s hands begin to rub tenderly in the creases of your upper thighs before he slowly parts his mouth away.

“M-Michael?” You pant, feeling your orgasm begin to dwindle away from you.

Leaving you aching for more, a string of spit separates from Michael’s mouth and your pussy as he pulls back.

“You don’t get to cum unless I say so.” Michael licks off his lips, rising back up to his feet. “And—” He grasps the sides of your throat, pulling your head back against his shoulder.

You giggle breathily, all the more turned on by his rough actions.

“Don’t you dare touch yourself.” Michael whispers back to you before abdruptly letting you go and turning to exit the bathroom.

“What?” You whimper, shakily pulling up your panties. “We just got here, where are you going?”

“I have a business meeting in twenty minutes, darling.” Michael adjusts his tie walking towards his luggage. “Are you going to hold out for that long?”

“Please,” you rub over your blushing cheeks, looking away. “Think I’m that needy?”

“I do.” Michael picks up his suitcase. “And I want to find you here when I’m back.”

“I won’t go anywhere, Don Corleone.” You teasingly let the straps of your panties slap against your skin. “But I’m going to make good use of that pool. When will you be back?”

“Sooner than you think.” Michael’s eyes dart up and down your body. “Be a good girl and behave until then.”

~

Even five minutes after Michael’s cleaned up and left for his business meeting at the hotel, the aching and pulsating feeling in your clit hasn’t subsided.

“God,” you whimper to yourself quietly, pulling off your panties and feeling the wet fabric slowly part from your pussy lips.

Your eyes fall over the king sized bed, eyeing the swan shaped towels by the foot of it.

Instead of picturing yourself laying down and toying with your clit until you cum, all you can think of is those slender fingers of Michael’s doing it for you while the two of you maintain eye contact.

Attempting to push aside your hot and bothered thoughts, you hang up your little black dress in the closet and toss your panties into the laundry hamper.

Unhooking off your bra as you approach your luggage, you take out one of your favourite bikinis—a cherry red set and a beach towel before beginning to put them on.

You adjust the straps of your bikini in front of the full-body mirror by the bed, humming quietly to yourself as you let your hair down your shoulders.

Wrapping the bath towel around your waist, you pop open the mini fridge by the bed and grab a bottle of unscrewed white wine and a glass before you make your way out to the pool.

The afternoon sun shines brightly over the pool but from the architectural style of both the swimming pool and balcony, it provides ultimate privacy on all sides from anywhere.

You set your wine bottle and glass carefully by the lounge chairs spread out around the pool, wanting to wait for Michael to get back before you enjoy a refreshment in the pool.

You neatly fold your pool towel onto one lounge chair and take a cautious step down the stairs leading into the pool—shivering a bit at the feel of lukewarm water against your skin.

“Alright…” You wade further into the water, letting it soak over you to get used to the temperature.

You swim towards the middle of the pool, diving in and out of the water slowly before popping your head out and brushing aside your soaked hair.

When you open your eyes, you gasp to see Michael standing right before the pool side with both of his hands in the pockets of his trousers, gazing at you.

“When did you get back?” You blink, swimming towards him.

“Just now.” Michael begins to shrug off his suit jacket, “too much sun exposure hasn’t been good for our associate. He wants to meet both of us at dinner for the meeting.”

“I see.” You can’t help but smile shyly at Michael. “That’s even better for me.”

“I thought you might say that.” Michael walks back into the bedroom to put his suit jacket away but purposefully remains in your line of sight as he begins to strip down to his swimmers.

You rest your arms against the ledge of the pool, unable to get your eyes off of your husband as he unbuttons his dress shirt and loosens his leather belt.

The same insistent and urging arousal returns to you as your eyes greedily admire every inch of Michael from his chest hair down to his back muscles.

Michael wears a pair of plain, black swimming bottoms and rakes his hand through his hair a few times to gently break through the gel’s hold as he approaches the pool again.

“A sight I don’t get to see too often.” You begin to swim backwards, smiling up at him. “Come on, come join me.”

“Your intentions are elsewhere,” Michael steps into the pool without flinching or cringing against the slightly cooler water. “Aren’t they?”

“Maybe.” You swim over to your husband, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and bringing him closer to you. “This is just what I wanted.”

“Mm.” Michael leans over, kissing your lips. “This is the only part of our trip the twins would enjoy.”

“I know,” you let out a soft laugh. “Not that I blame them. When was the last time you swam with them in Lake Tahoe, let alone swam at all?”

“Never,” Michael answers plainly, pulling you into his embrace. “I have my reasons.”

“Such as?” You teasingly run your hand down Michael’s wet chest.

“It’s distracting.” Michael’s eyes move down to your bikini top. “And not something I wish to do in front of our employees.”

“Distracting is the word for it, alright.” You murmur, rubbing over Michael’s shoulders tenderly.

Michael moves over to kiss you again, but this time you dodge it and pull back, smirking at him. “Nuh uh.”

Michael raises his brows at you in disbelief. “Playing hard to get?”

“You owe me.” You gesture to him with your fingers. “And after leaving me a mess like that in the bathroom? I hardly call that fair.”

“I was getting even with you.” Michael swims closer to you. “You’re a smart girl, you know that.”

“I don’t like being teased.” You pout back playfully.

“Who says I was teasing you?” You remain face to face with Michael. “It doesn’t matter, does it?”

“What doesn’t—”

Michael pulls at the straps of your bikini top, throwing it off of you as your breasts spill free into the water. “That doesn’t matter.”

“Oh, come on.” You giggle breathily, covering your breasts. “You’re not getting me out of the water anytime soon.”

“I don’t have to.” Michael forces your arms down, cupping his hands over your breasts as he begins to push you through the water. “I’ll take you in here, right now otherwise you’ll be a good girl and get back inside the bedroom.”

“Oh, you were waiting for this.” You giggle to yourself, swimming back up to the stairs. “I haven’t even had the chance to dry off yet. You want to ruin the bed?”

“You did it to yourself. That’s what it’s for. I could care less.” Michael follows, snatching your bikini bottoms off. “And you won’t be needing this either. Why you wore anything at all here surprises me. You have all the privacy you could want.”

“And you don’t?” You step out of the pool—droplets of water dripping down your ass.

“Don’t talk back to me.” Michael gives your ass a harsh smack, gesturing back inside the bedroom. “Spread yourself and wait for me.”

“You’ve got another surprise for me?” Blushing, you enter back into the suite with Michael.

Michael doesn’t answer you, instead moving towards the steam room in the suite and leaving you alone in the bedroom.

Impatient but just as needy, you do as Michael says and get on the bed—soaking through the duvet and spreading your legs open.

Just across from you, you can see your reflection against the mirror, all sprawled out, soaked from head to toe and waiting for Michael’s return.

Michael’s back only a moment later, holding a large bottle of massage oil in his hands. “Good girl. You did as you were told to.”

Your eyes land over the bottle in Michael’s hands and you feel as if your pussy has a heartbeat of it’s own, expecting to fuck away the afternoon completely wet and slicked with massage oil.

“Now,” Michael hovers over top of you, tilting your chin down to face him. “Be a good girl and spread it all over yourself.”

You gasp softly to feel the cool massage oil squirt all over you, coating your breasts, stomach, inner thighs and pussy generously.

Michael watches as the massage oil slicks down your body, seeing how your hands work around every crease of your thighs, over your hardened nipples and especially all over your pussy.

“Turn around.” Michael holds up the massage oil bottle. “And get on your knees.”

“Yes, sir.” You whisper to yourself, getting on all fours.

With a perfect view of your ass, Michael squirts the remainder of the massage oil down your lower back and all over your ass.

This time as Michael puts down the empty bottle, he works his hands over your ass—spanking you and squeezing your ass cheeks as he lathers the oil thoroughly all throughout.

“M—My God,” you press your face into a pillow, feeling Michael’s oiled fingers rub circles over your pussy’s entrance.

“When you cum,” Michael pulls his swimmers off completely, kneeling on the bed. “You’ll tell me, do you understand?”

“Y-yes,” you whine as Michael gives your soaked hair a tug.

“Make a mess worth cleaning up for.” He hisses in your ear, coating his cock in the massage oil as well.

You arch your back obediently, looking back over your shoulder as much as you can see as Michael begins to slowly push his cock inside of you and penetrate your pussy.

“O-ooohhhh…” You exhale shakily, feeling Michael’s thick, full cock pushing into you.

“Fuck,” you hear Michael mumble under his breath, gripping your hips. “You know how fucking tight you are?”

You giggle out of breath against the pillow, already beginning to feel your thighs tremble from the first thrust. “Michaellllll…”

Facing the mirror, you throw your head back with a half shriek, half moan as Michael begins to pound into your ass—already feeling you aroused and ready for him. “Oh, yes! YES!”

As Michael keeps a steady, quickened sloppy pace inside of you, he watches as a mixture of his precum, water and massage oil drip onto the bed from your pussy.

“Like that, huh? Is this what you wanted?” Michael moves his arm underneath you, squeezing your face and giving it a little shake.

“Y-yes!” You muffle out, pushing your hips back against Michael’s cock. “I w-want it, want it, want it!”

“You’re gonna take this cock in for as long as I want you to,” Michael watches how eagerly you gyrate your hips back to take him in you again and again. “Until you’re fucked into a mess.”

“D-do it,” you groan loudly, feeling Michael slamming his hips upright into you. “Fuck me, fuck me!”

“Did you touch yourself when I was gone? Hmm?” Michael demands an answer—his hair beginning to tousle over his forehead.

“N-no!” You moan shakily, moving your hands back to spread your ass open.

“We’ll see about that,” Michael slicks a finger over your clit—the massage oil dripping off of it providing the perfect stimulation to push you to the brink of orgasm.

Your moans only grow louder and more consistent as you’re simply unable to hold them back.

Your ass cheeks begin to glow pink from the friction of hitting Michael’s waist back and forth as fast as he can possibly fuck you.

“I want to ruin you,” beads of sweat begin to form over Michael’s head as he maintains his rapid thrusting rate, pounding into you as deep as he can go. “Like you begged me to last night.”

“Don’t stop, don’t stop—” You squeeze your eyes shut, only able to hear the sloshing sounds of your wetness against Michael’s cock with skin slapping against skin above your moaning.

“You’re gonna cum on this cock or not at all,” Michael feels your pussy humming and contracting over his shaft as you come closer and closer to your orgasm.

You spread your legs as wide as you can in the doggy style position to take more of Michael in you.

His thrusting remains harsh and deep, almost enough to practically push you stomach down on the bed each and every time—the massage oil slicked and glistening over your body.

Learning all your sweet spots and weak points, memorizing each inch of pleasure radiating off your body and listening to your sweet cries of ecstasy as your hips quiver against Michael’s paints a picture of pure erotica in the hotel room.

Michael’s cock ravages your pussy like a man possessed over and over again, fucking you like a ragdoll as the mattress shakes out from under you both.

You roll your hips back at Michael desperately, begging for every thrust going in and out of you and putting him in a state of pure domination.

Michael fucks you mercilessly, bringing you to shrieking loud moans just the way you’ve craved it for days; the scent of sex filling the room.

‘Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me.’ Bursting at a different height of arousal altogether, your toes curl in response as you begin to feel your orgasm unwind through.

[alliswyattonthewesternfront]

i love making friends that listen to contemporary audio fiction because they are primed and ready for me to convert into radio play nerds. did you know all of The Inner Sanctum with Peter Lorre is free to listen to? also just about every noir detective thriller ever made for radio, not to mention westerns and soap operas as well.

follow me, Debra, we're about to develop hard opinions on which actor was better on Yours Truly, Johnny Dollar