#devil lude

[bellamer]

Clive Barker really copied most of Kurt’s backstory and reworked it for Devil Lude for the Nightbreed comics but you know what, I commend him. Because he did what Marvel couldn’t do. He said “My religious (not sure if Lude is religious anymore since coming to Meridian I mean I assume he’s not catholic anymore and he worships Baphomet like the others) blue devil guy is openly bisexual and kisses the new guy and is known for seducing both men and women in threesomes in the woods and ripped out humans organs when they attacked his home so hah !”

So like, I doubt Lude and Kurt would be friends but they’re my two favorite blue demon like guys

[corpse-of-bandersnatch]

Nightbreed with speaking roles

and names:

Aaron Boone aka Cabal // Baphomet

Narcisse // Leon Kinski

Peloquin // Shuna Sassi

Ohnaka // Dirk Lylesburg

Rachel // Babette

Lude // Leroy Gomm

[bitter69uk]

For me, the two essential, iconic “faces” of the Los Angeles punk subculture will forever be Darby Crash, the feral frontman of The Germs and twisted voodoo dolly Exene Cervenka of X. Here is the duo captured in their surly youthful glory on a Hollywood rooftop in the late seventies by photographer Melanie Nissen (from her book Hard + Fast). Crash (aka Bobby Pyn, real name: Jan Paul Beahm, 26 September 1958 - 7 December 1980) was born on this day sixty-six years ago. “He was Johnny Rotten and Sid Vicious rolled into one, a befuddled punk prophet with a brilliant mind,” Chris Campion writes in “Darby Crash: Saint Anger” in the October 2014 edition of Dazed Digital. “Darby Crash presided over the birth of the LA punk scene in 1977 and signaled its demise with his own self-inflicted death three years later. His was a vision of chaos that would never come to pass but left in its wake a legacy of destruction and one fiery punk classic, the Germs' 1979 Joan Jett-produced album, G.I.” Swallow a fistful of ‘ludes, smear yourself in peanut butter and blast “Forming”, “Lexicon Devil” or “Media Blitz” LOUD today in Crash’s memory!

[scotianostra]

27th July 1689 saw the Battle of Killiecrankie.

As soon as you hear the words "Whare hae ye been sae braw, lad?" it puts a smile on my face, in my opinion one of the most rousing Scottish folk songs.

The battle itself saw a force of 2,000 Jacobites under the command of 'Bonnie Dundee', defeated the larger government army of 4,000 soldiers led by General Hugh Mackay.

Bonnie Dundee first sent a small group of highlanders down the main road towards Killiecrankie as a feint, with the intention of deceiving Mackay into thinking this was the advanced guard.

Meanwhile the main Army left their camp in Old Blair, around mid afternoon and circled behind the hill of Lude coming down Allt Chluain. (Ambush stream) with Creag Eallaich (rock of the charge) on their left. Mackay had positioned his men to meet a frontal attack from the direction of Blair. As the highlanders emerged around the side of the hill they saw McKay's army jump to their feet, they had been resting. Mackay had to wheel his forces round quickly to meet this new threat. This put him in the awkward position of facing uphill with his opponents above him and the river barrier at his back. The Highland charge would have bbe in full flight as he tried to regroup his men.

As soon as Bonnie Dundee gave the order to charge, the highlanders uttering the eerie high-pitched battle cry of the Celt, leapt down the hill towards the enemy. The battle lasted approximately 15 minutes.

Unfortunately Dundee, in the act of encouraging his men, was pierced beneath the breastplate by a musket ball of the enemy and fell dying from his horse. Graham reputedly asked a soldier "How goes the day?", to which the man replied, "Well for King James, but I am sorry for your lordship." The dying Graham then replied, "If it goes well for him, it matters the less for me." A short letter describing the engagement to King James was later produced which purported to be from Graham, but is now believed to be spurious.

Going back to the song and the line "But I met the devil and Dundee" this relates to the legend that he was invulnerable to lead (due to having made a pact with the Devil) and was killed by being penetrated by a silver button from his own coat. He died on the battlefield and was carried the few miles to the nearby parish church of St Bride.

I leave you with the Corries, the song here was a live performance from 1975 but there is footage from 1966 as the lads did a pioneering music video, it sees them travel along the road from Pitlochry to Killiecrankie. This is one of my favourite songs from The Corries. The first three verses and the chorus were written by Robert Burns and set to an older melody. James Hogg may have had a hand in writing the additional verses..

[millenniumdueled]

The Final Round

So this is what it all comes down to. Despite his Duel with Kaiba predicted in ancient stones, somehow Yugi knew this would be the final match.

Except, he isn't really Yugi, is he?

Of all the stakes on the line, that seems less important now. His memories, his past, his name seem insignificant. It's something else that drives him now as he steps onto the Dueling platform.

Mai Valentine's life on the line. The unstoppable Darkness Marik could unleash with all three God Cards. Joey's pride as a Duelist, and the fight they've promised each other.

Yugi's heart pounds as the platform ascends.

He adds the cards he's received from Kaiba to his deck, Obelisk the Tormentor and another, a gift given to him without explanation. Devil's Sanctuary? Without time to read over the card's descriptive text, he simply chooses to trust his fated rival with the addition.

"And now, the Battle City Finals!! Finalists Yugi Mutou and Marik Ishtar! Please approach your opponent to cut and shuffle each other's deck!"

The air swirls with tension, with hatred and resentment, with the scorching winds of battle as the two do as told. Marik towers over the shorter man, but Yugi's eyes burn with determination, a firey passion fueled by the support of his friends, of everyone counting on him.

I see that Kaiba gave you a little help. Doesn't that make 41? Oh well, no advantage will protect you from the might of Ra,

Marik sneers.

Yugi's brows crease as he hands his deck to the enemy. "I will defeat you, Marik. I'll take all of the pain and suffering you've caused and send it back to you tenfold," he spits.

Hahaha!! Unfortunately for you, Pharaoh, I enjoy pain!

Marik's laugh is wicked, deranged, his tongue hanging ludely from his mouth as he shuffles Yugi's cards.

Decks returned to proper ownership, the two finalists walk back to their ends of the platform.

Did you shuffle thoroughly? Hoping Ra would sink to the bottom?

"Heh. Don't ask me, ask your deck." Yugi turns on his heel, gripping the collar of his jacket draped over his shoulders to cast it off into the wind with dramatic flair. "It already knows you're going to lose!!"

Once again, the announcer's voice rings out. "Going first is Marik Ishtar. Duel, start!!"

The moment the game begins, black clouds swirl overhead, darkening the sky until noon turns to night. The air grows heavy, choking not only the Duelists, but the friends cheering from below. Another Shadow Game. Of course. Why would this final, dire match be different than any other of Marik's unsavory fights?

Look around you Pharaoh, the hungry shadows are calling. They're saying this will be the greatest Shadow Game of all! Darkness will reign, and the gates of hell will open... I'll snuff out every pathetic life on this planet!!

Yugi grits his teeth.

Starting with... This one!

The shadows come together, swirling inky blackness that parts to reveal another figure, a human form suspended in mod-air, visible only to the Duelists on stage and none of the spectators below.

Yugi's eyes go wide in horror.

"Partner...?!!!"

Yugi, little Yugi, his Partner, his other soul. Bound and suspended by rings of inky darkness, held aloft and spread eagle as his big, violet eyes flutter open.

"wh. what's going on?!" he gasps, struggling to comprehend the situation he's been forced into. his panicked gaze meets a similar pair of eyes from below. "other me?!"

Marik doesn't give the pair another second, using their mutual, horrified confusion, as a chance to summon his first monster.

Vampiric Leech!! Direct attack!!

Though the monster has only 500 attack points, the pain as it bites into the Pharaoh is excruciatingly real. But the scream that cuts the air doesn't come from him.

The Other Yugi looks again at his helpless Partner, only to see Yugi's face twisted in agony and horror as a section of his leg seems to melt away, skin sizzling and burning as it does.

Marik laughs at his cries.

Not only does your sacrifice feel the pain my attacks inflict on you.... His body will be devoured based on the life points you lose!

Again, the Pharaoh calls out to his Partner.

As for me, my Sacrifice is this guy.

Marik hooks a thumb over his shoulder in the direction of another suspended body. His own other half floats helplessly, bound in a similar fashion as Yugi.

The moment the Player's life points hit zero and the Sacrifice's body consumed, they'll both suffer the ultimate pain. You'll both feel every fiber of your existence shredded, ripped apart as you die, separated and alone!!

Marik's eyes narrow, an almost perverse expression on his face as he licks his lips.

Pleasure and pain, life and death... Even if you win, can you live with yourself, Pharaoh?

The Other Yugi's stomach twists. He's made so many promises this tournament, including one to his precious Partner. No more killing. For a second, his focus shifts below, to Marik's sister Ishizu.

"other me!!!"

Yugi's voice draws his attention once more.

"don't let him get to your head!!! please!!"

"But Partner, you--"

"just fight him!!!"

The Other Yugi's eyes narrow, directing his anger and his focus to the game at hand again.

"Hang in there, Partner. I will get you out of this alive."

[pearlsoftheparticular]

notes on chapter 2

Tree imagery is strong on pg 9: "I just thought it would be nice to see how people move into a place and start to inhabit it. Settle in. Maybe put down roots," and later, "He is merely expressing anxieties natural for a boy his age who has just been uprooted from his home in the city..."

Impetus: the force or energy with which a body moves. (pg 10)

Valences: 1. A length of decorative drapery attached to the canopy or frame of a bed in order to screen the structure or space beneath it. 2. A whole number that represents the ability of an atom or a group of atoms to combine w/ other atoms or groups of atoms. 3. Psychological term: the subjective value of an event, object, person, or other entity in the life space of the individual. Also, the pleasantness or unpleasantness of an emotional stimulus.

""This is nice," He says, removing a big clump of her blonde hair from the tines and tossing it into the wastebasket." (pg 11) Oddly, not the last time that hair seems to be a focus in this chapter?

"Nevertheless, despite their purely confessional content, it is not a journal entry but rather an unguarded moment captured on on eof the house Hi 8s that demonstrates Karen's almost bewildering dependence on Navidson." (pg 11) "In that peculiar contradiction that serves as connective tissue in so many relationships, it is possible to see that she loves Navidson almost as much as she has no room for him." (pg 12) [italics added by me for emphasis]

Second reference to hair: "I think Lude started giving one of them a trim, whipping out his scissors which he always has on hand, like old gunslingers I guess always had a hand on their Colts - there he goes, snipping locks & bangs... fingers & steel clicking away, tiny bits of hair spitting off into the surrounding turmoil..." (pg 12)

Galveston is a city in Texas (pg 12, footnote 18)

"The devil's ear" pg 15 - Devil's Ear Spring in Gilchrist County, Florida.

A thought: often, the notes here are used to prove, or at least point out, themes of Navidson's story. Should these be taken seriously? Or dismissed as part of the Fiction, even as red herrings?

"Don't forget to tell them about the birds." (pg 13) - Significant? Foreshadowing of his mother? Pelicans. Esp. considering how he works the tooth/eyebrow scar into the story too.

After the boxing/Birds of Paradise/Russian barge story: "... just looking at this story makes me feel a little queasy all of a sudden. I mean how fake it is. Just sorta doesn't sit right with me. It's like there's something beyond it all, a greater story still looming in the twilight, which for some reason I'm unable to see." (pg 15) Could be another reference to the way he used evidence of his abuse in the story (will come up later), also another nod to "authenticity"/existentialism, possibly proof that Story is starting to effect him. Especially considering how the note began when Karen mentioned the water heater, and Johnny seems to attribute that to his own water heater going out.

Vituperative: bitter and abusive. (pg 16)

"...as of late, many have called into question the accuracy of this self portrait, observing that Navidson may have gone too far out of his way to cast himself in a less than favorable light." (pg 17) This chapter begins with a Mary Shelley quote. Does Davidson consider himself Frankenstein, and the House (or the portrait which comes up later), Frankenstein's monster? It seems he carries plenty of blame/guilt on himself. Especially considering, later on that page, ",.. he also, by way of the film, admits to carrying around his own alienating and intensely private obsessions."

First mention of Delial on pg 17. The name itself could potentially be a mix up of a number of things, purposefully misspelled, purposefully carrying multiple meanings, purposefully vague. Delilah (Samson) seems most clear at the beginning, as seeming competition to Karen. Then misspelling of Belial, which is Hebrew for 'worthless', and the name of a demon in Scripture. Some also point out the similarity to the word denial, which makes sense when this individual is revealed. Someone on an MZD forum back in 2001 once suggested that it was an anagram for "L'ideal", referring to the poem by Charles Baudelaire. Here is a LINK to different translations of the poem. The poem is from Baudelaire's collection, "Les Fleurs du mal".

The "L'ideal" interpretation seems most correct, considering note 23, and the reference to the fake work "Jennifer Caps' Delial, Beatrice, and Dulcinea (Englewood Cliffs, N.J.: Thumos Inc., 1996)". Delial is Davidson's muse, hauntress, and ideal, just as Beatrice was to Dante, and Dulcinea was to Don Quijote.

Albatross (pg 17) - another bird reference. It is sometimes used metaphorically to mean a psychological burden that feels like a curse. Alludes to Samuel Taylor Coleridge's "The Rime of the Ancient Mariner."

This poem, and throw-away reference to the albatross, seem significant, because of this:

In Mary Shelley's Frankenstein, Robert Wealton mentions the poem by name and says of an upcoming journey that "I shall kill no albatross". Coleridge and Shelley were close acquaintances, as well.

Charles Baudelaire's collection of poems "Les Fleurs du mal" also contains poem called "L'Albatros", about men on ships who catch the albatrosses for sport.

SOURCE

"... the house itself, an indefinite shimmer, sitting quietly on the corner of Succoth and Ash Tree Lane, bathed in afternoon light." (pg 18). Succoth: Genesis 33:17, Jacob builds a house at Succoth after his estrangement from Esau. Exodus 12:37 and 13:20, Israel's first camp out of Egypt.

Succoth word meaning: Boothes, to weave protection, weaving.

Succoth is also another name for the Jewish Feast of Tabernacles, or Feast of Booths, where Jewish people stay in temporary dwellings, specifically made out of branches with a roof of leaves, reflecting their wandering and the impermanence of their dwellings.

Impermanence (Succoth) vs Permanence (Ash Tree). Exile. Estrangement.

Not to jump ahead, but Chapter 3 begins with a quote from Exodus.

Selah.

[daemon-lord]

~*GREE♱INGS, M⛧R♱ALS.*~

I am ♱he GRAND DAEM⛧N L⛧RDE, wh⛧m y⛧u may refer ♱⛧ as ♱HE DEM⛧N L⛧RD, DEVIL L⛧RDE, DAEM⛧N L⛧RD, DEM⛧N L⛧RDE, DEVIL L⛧RD, and ⛧f ☾⛧urse, DAEM⛧N L⛧RDE.

I am an IMM⛧R♱AL DEVIL SPIRI♱ ♱rapped wi♱hin ♱he b⛧dy ⛧f a Y⛧UNG VI⛧LE♱BL⛧⛧DED ♱R⛧LL. H⛧wever, I am n⛧♱ a MISERABLE LI♱♱LE M⛧R♱AL like ♱he res♱ ⛧f y⛧u. I am P⛧WERFUL and AN☾IEN♱ and will even♱ually RAIN D⛧WN MY BL⛧⛧DY VENGEAN☾E UP⛧N Y⛧U ALL! MUAHAHAHAHAH!

My h⛧bbies in☾lude DARK MAGI☾, RI♱UAL SA☾RIFI☾E, MURDER, EVIL, and pra☾♱i☾ing my DIAB⛧LI☾AL DEVIL L⛧RDE LAUGH.

Y⛧u may N⛧♱ in♱era☾♱ wi♱h me if y⛧u d⛧ n⛧♱ iden♱ify wi♱h my DARK ☾AS♱E EQUALISM, if y⛧u are a BR⛧WNBL⛧⛧D wh⛧ ☾laims ♱⛧ be a M⛧♱H, if y⛧u kn⛧w me fr⛧m my M⛧R♱AL PERS⛧NA in ♱he ⛧FFLINE SPA☾E, if y⛧u are AN♱I-KIN ⛧r use ♱he ♱erm KINNIE whi☾h is an AN♱I-KIN SLUR, ⛧r if y⛧u are a prep. Y⛧u may in♱era☾♱ if y⛧u are jus♱ N⛧♱ G⛧♱HI☾, bu♱ y⛧u may N⛧♱ in♱era☾♱ if y⛧u are a PREP, whi☾h is DEPL⛧RABLE. D⛧ N⛧♱ ♱ALK ♱⛧ ME IF Y⛧U ARE PREA☾HING AB⛧U♱ MIR♱H I D⛧ N⛧♱ WAN♱ ♱⛧ HEAR I♱ S♱⛧P PU♱♱ING Y⛧UR PAMPHLE♱S UNDER MY D⛧⛧R!

[plungermusic]

Heads, Rockers, Country fans, I come to praise Caesar…

… and to bury him, sadly. The Caesar in question is Mike Ross: the unchallenged and universally acknowledged* Grand Galactic Emperor Of Slide Guitar, and (without any of that ‘one of’ or ‘among’ equivocation nonsense) quite frankly the BEST writer and performer ‘on the scene’ currently. But like the saying goes about a prophet in his own land, it seems this particular scene has been led astray by false messiah after false messiah, and only worships golden cows and graven idols now, leaving Mike preaching in the wilderness somewhat.

So the declaration earlier his year of his intention to call a halt on his eight-year incarnation as The Mike Ross Band (to pursue other avenues and energies in pastures new) was not an enormous surprise, but still a major downer… That disappointment was brightened, if only slightly, by the announcement of a final release as MRB’s ‘last will and testament’.

The old cliché that nobody likes long goodbyes was doubtless coined by the leaver, not the leavee (who’d happily string things out as long as humanly possible…) Well that goes double for Plunger as regards the demise of MRB: thankfully that final record, the cryptically titled Electric Smoke, satisfies Plunger’s wish for a ‘long goodbye’: a double album lasting over an hour and a half… plenty of time for us to wallow in our misery! Except there’s no room for misery, as the twenty songs it contains are a vibrant, joyous, angry, defiant, bruising, uplifting, intriguing, grin-inducing valediction.

Nobody ever went broke underestimating the musical taste of the British public.**

The versatility and imagination that’s been the hallmark (and, Plunger suspects, the millstone round the neck career-wise) of Mike’s output is present in spades here, with nods to influences behind many of his previous releases as well as more out-of-left-field surprises, ranging from surf-spiced Californiana in Better Days to Broken Toy’s trippy 90s-Scousechedelica-meets-Page&Plant in 9/8 time, and from Thunderbird’s Western Swing to a Harrison-like ‘quality of Mersey’ in Too Many Parts.

There’s Raffertyish folk/country in Come Away’s duet (with Lindsey Bonnick of Brave Rival) featuring some exquisite slide playing; as echt an Edmunds/Lowe 50s-revival bop as you’ll hear in Harder Again; while the eloquent, emotive Landship drifts into proggier waters, with airily jangling guitar, and esoteric lyrics delivered with unusually precise pronunciation.

Southern flavours abound, whether in the gospel-tinged southern soul of Keep Going, the Skynyrdy barroom boogie of Magic Bullet or the Delaney & Bonnie belt of Tonight Tonight; harder, heavier fare in the Youngian fuzz-drenched grunge lope of Wasting Time and a balls-to-the-wall AC/DC rocker The Devil; and not forgetting some blues (but through an MTB filter) in Bus Blues - a half speed Roadhouse Blues-on-‘ludes dreamscape with a bludgeoning solo and laddish chorus, Sweet Wine’s 6/8 reverie, and the dub-slanted Doorsesque blues slink of Your Game.

If that sounds like it’s getting weird, just wait for the hallucinatory Unpaid Bill a trem-and-verb-washed 60s Psychic-Soul-P.I.-walks-the mean-streets theme à la John Barry; Song Thirteen’s unsettling tricksy-timed Damned-meets-The Associates-with-a-splash-of-B52s Art Rock; the Glam Metal In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida/Purple Haze-hybrid funeral march of One Man; and not least the XTC-pretending-to-be-Madness fairground haunted house spookiness of Mr Carter with its chorus in (fittingly) 13s!

Now, for some narrow-gauge, one-track “All I want is some blues” minds this kind of rock’n’roll chameleon shape-shifting might feel like their ears being violated with a jewelled musical kaleidoscope but for jamband fans like Plunger this is right up our, erm, street (maybe a US-style jamband should be the next career move?) and we can’t help but grin at the audacity of the transformations and at the consummate deftness with which he pulls them off - guitar styles, instrumentation, arrangements and even vocal pitch and timbres all bang-on-the-money genre-appropriate. 

Without a lyric sheet we won’t claim to have caught every nuance, but it does sound like Mike may have a choice word or two for various ‘powers that be’ in all walks of life (no names, no pack drill from Plunger): skewering the high-ups, decrying the vapidity of modern life, and elegising the disappointments and crushed dreams of all us. And the cryptic title? Not a scooby I’m afraid, but it does crop up in the closing bars of the shoutalong Irish-boozer waltz-time folk of My Friend, the boisterous if bellicose full stop to a cracking double album.

“Dave can do anything, oh he’s great, he really is…” ***

As always the performances are Premiership level, and (apart from Darren Lee’s stalwart drumming and the aforementioned Lindsey) they’re all Mike: bass; electric piano and organ; the CSN-level harmonies… And of course the guitar - particularly (but not restricted to) slide - is exquisite: the work on Magic Bullet is a fucking masterclass in ‘How To Play Southern Slide Properly’ that should be required homework for guitarists across the country, but it’s all sublime, the harmonising leads and noodles, the twangsome rock’n’rollery, the pulverising riffing, THE TONE… all of it! 

Probably best to call a halt before it all gets too “POW! Up pops my fairy godmother” [Too late, Ed.], but suffice to say the very existence of Electric Smoke as a “So long and thanks for all the fish” is both an impressive capstone to an unsurpassed body of work over the last eight years and a pretty sad indictment of a scene that’s about to lose its best and most creative songwriter/artist…  (Just as a for instance, the track Tonight Tonight, was originally written, recorded and released as a single in three hours as a “You can do better than that, guys” riposte to the Black Crowes own single - can your favourite band do that? No, they can’t. Shut up.)

Si monumentum requiris, praestinate****

Electric Smoke is only available as a double 180gm vinyl album in splatter-green (with gatefold sleeve featuring cover art by Chris 'Sick' Moore) in a limited edition of 100 pieces. Available to pre-order now (shipping December 2024) from Mike’s website here: https://mikerossmusic.bigcartel.com/product/electric-smoke-vinyl

An exclusive official pre-launch listening party will be held on Zoom on 24th September, tickets available via the Facebook event page here:

- he must be, we said so https://tmblr.co/Zc96bkcAsKVeSi00

** - as PT Barnum and HL Mencken never said…

*** - “Learn to swim, young man!”

**** - “If you seek a monument, buy it!”

[juodojimirtis]

Asra, frantic and out of breath: My love! I came to save you! Me and all our frie-.... ?! O.O

Julian: .... awkward o.o

Nadia: .... o.o

Portia: .... o.o

Muriel: .... o.o

MC, half naked and on the Devil's lap: I... suppose I can explain

[denim-devil]

Imagine giving DareDevil Head…

You had no intentions of ever getting involved with the dark side of hell’s kitchen. But you were glued in spot, head held by both of his hands…The Devil’s hands.

You looked up into the blanc, red eyes that glared back at your own, his thick, slightly glossy lips hung agape, lude moans escaping the stranger that currently occupied your mouth.

His cock sat proudly on your tongue, heavy and wide in your mouth taking up every single space you had to offer. Your hands rested behind your back, linked together as the devil used you for his own pleasure, seeking that rush.

“Maybe you are good for something” the man above growled, a hand gently patting you on the cheek as he picked up the pace, his balls now tapping your chin with every movement.

“Gekkeegg” you gurgle around his cock, earning a deep chuckle at your efforts to speak. It was pathetic to even try, although the devil did enjoy it, the sight and effort you were going to please him…maybe you really were useful to him after all.

“That’s it…fuck” the man above breathed out, his stubble making your cock twitch, the sight of the man…the devil above crumbling underneath the pleasure you were supplying was the motivation you needed to change things up.

Stopping his hips, you kneel, using your hands to move his hips. You begin fucking your mouth onto him, allowing for a new deepness, something the man found endearing in a way…

“Look at you go…you that desperate?”

His voice encouraged you to fasten your movements, each time the angry tip tapped the back of your throat, it triggered your reflex, retches and gag’s echoing throughout the quiet apartment complex’s stairwell.

The flashing red lights illuminated the stranger’s features every so often, once they did, it only spiked your interest.

“Close…m’fuck yeah”

You could feel the faint twitches his leaking girth created, your tongue moving around, playing with the large veins that littered his cock so perfectly.

You had skill and the devil wasn’t letting it go to waste. He chuckled, gloved fingers now slightly soaked as he ran the tips along your chin where his saliva-covered balls rested…

another twitch

Pulling out, he taps the tip on your swollen lips.

“Please…Please, I want it” you whine, the man wrapped said glove clad hand around his aching member, flicking his wrist back and forth before releasing low groans, his load covering your features with each pump.

He stilled, chest heaving as heavy pants sounded out into the quiet atmosphere. Your t-shirt soaked with saliva, much like your chin.

“You did good…”

[bellamer]

The reason I’m scared for a Nightbreed revival or reboot is that I feel like they’d discard all of the other Nightbreed we barely know about and make all different characters instead of just expanding on already existing characters.

I think the only ones that would make it in a new adaptation are Kinski (maybe), Peloquin, Shuna Sassi, maybe Annastasjia’s comic story and then maybe Lude’s comic story.

But like I feel like they wouldn’t adapt Leroy Gomm or Chocolat or any of the others and that would piss me off. Like a lot.

[davidshawnsown]

USA Baseball RPF 1 - WW2 AU: Bridge Battle (Chapter 1)

(AN: This has been a memorable year so far for the United States's national baseball teams, and as of this writing the Olympic team led by Mike Sciosia are already playing in Yokohama for the much awaited gold medal victory. In honor of these boys of the national team and the collegiate team that played this year with the Appy League, as well as the 2019 Premier 12 and Olympic Qualifier team that won the hearts of baseball fans everywhere, as well as to mark the opening salvo of the celebrations of 80 years since the beginning of the US's involvement in the Second World War, this work, the first ever featuring these men of our ballparks, dedicated to the memory of the baseball players who served during the war, is the first RPF with a military AU setting in years, set in the Italian Apennines during Operation Encore (February-March 1945). The scenario is a bridge battle, rightfully so since August 1, the day the fic began to be written, is the 94th anniversary of the People's Liberation Army of China, whose heritage honors the NRA's 8th Route and New 4th Armies that fought in the Pacific Theater against Japan, one of the founding divisional commanders of that army, Lin Biao, the commanding officer of the victorious forces that fought Japan in the September 1937 Battle of Pingxingguan was a command officer of the Red Army's 1st Corps responsible for the 2nd Division, whose 4th Regiment was the very unit that took part in the battle that inspired this story, the May 1935 Battle of Luding Bridge.)

WINTER 1945

It was a cold late February afternoon in San Marcello Pistoiese, the town that had been part of the Axis lines of defenses that formed the Gothic Line in north central Italy, located in the Apennines on the Tuscany-Emilia-Romagna border. It had been bombed by Allied airplanes in September of 1944, resuling to 22 deaths. The town's garrison had been manned by personnel of the 16th Panzergrenadier Division, a Waffen-SS unit that had been recently involved in a number of operations against the civilian populace of the surrounding towns that had helped the local resistance movement, alongside a number of National Republican Guards, a company of RSI Alpini of the National Republican Army's 4th Alpini Division (belonging to the 2nd Alpine Regiment) and a company of Bersagileri of the 1st Infantry Division (Bersagileri). To make matters worse, the steel suspension footbridge built in 1923 and a symbol of the town's pride as the longest to be built of its kind in Italy and the world, was damaged by Allied air bombing and needed repairs, and its steel structure was mostly broken.

It was in these circumstances that MGEN Armond of the mutliracial 92nd Infantry Division was entrusted with the capture of the town, since it was on Highway 12 leading to Modena and was at the Serchio Valley AOR that the division was already posted. To fulfill the operation to take the area around the southeast of the valley was the 473rd RCT, made up of a number of former air defense artillery gunners, and elements of the 442nd Infantry, made up mostly of Japanese Americans. However, there were elements of the 473rd that had prior battle experience, mostly transfers from units that fought with the First Special Service Force (the known "Red Devils") and other units in the Italian south and central regions. Those transferee soldiers formed A Company of 1st Battalion, 473rd RCT, and were directly under LTCOL Scioscia's command as battalion commanding officer, with the battalion's S-3, Major Avent, serving as the one in charge of the operation to capture the footbridge with the help of a number of local partisans.

These partisans had earlier captured the village of Popigilio in the nearby town of Piteglio, where the company had established its garrison. Thus, Major Avent entrusted the duty of taking over the foot bridge to the company commander, Captain Tulowitski. The goal: to capture the Mammiano neighborhood and link up with the resistance to take the town proper, as well as Dog Company of the 2nd Battalion, 442nd Infantry.

Partisans had already informed the intelligence officer, Major Harris, assigned with the company from division HQ, that the bridge's northern side, as well as the factory, was manned by Waffen SS elements from a battalion of the 36th Panzergrenadier Regiment (two companies) and some National Republican Guards, and National Army Alpini and Bersagileri, and was linked to Road 633. To facilitate the capture of the bridge and to form a bridgehead on the eastern end of the bridge as part of the operation to liberate the village and to facilitate the building of a temporary wooden walkway enabling faster access to the town on foot, the company's 1st platoon under Captain Frazier, by now company XO, and the 2nd platoon under 2nd Lieutenant Crawford were assigned for this task. Captain Tulowitzki eventually assumed overall command for the capture of the footbridge and the Mammiano operation, and he ordered 3rd platoon to capture a dam south of the bridge so that elements of Easy Company of the 2nd Battalion 442nd will support the crossing from the south village of Lolie, while B Company of 1st Battalion 473rd will capture La Lima village and capture the road bridge, ensuring fast motorized access from the north. The town's liberation overall would be a part of the ongoing Operation Encore, the Allied artillery assault on the German positions on the Gothic Line and to help the resistance in preparation for a spring assault.

Since partisans also gave info to the company that officers of the 16th assigned to the town were friends with the German officers who trained the National Revolutionary Army in the 1930s before the war against Japan began, it was decided that, given the role played by the NRA in China in the war, both its Communist and Nationalist personnel, to honor them with a fast capture of the bridge, which would be assisted by engineers seconded from the 316th Engineering Battalion that would help make a temporary timber walkway to replace the old one while the bridge's steel structure would be repaired, which would be protected by D Company of the 2nd Battalion 473rd RCT, with the heavy weapons company of the 1st Battalion 473rd firing the mortar and machine gun barrage at the Italo-German positions, in concert with artillery. The Germans and Italians garrisoned in the town did not know that what the American force would be doing would be similar to the strategy employed by the Communist forces of the 2nd Division, 1st Corps of the 1st Red Army during the 1935 Long March, when in late May a platoon of 22 from the division's 4th Regiment captured Luding Bridge in the namesake city of Luding County, Sichuan Province, China against Nationalist aligned forces belonging to a powerful provincial general, with few deaths amongst the men. (That battle came two years before most of the Communist forces became part of the NRA's 8th Route Army).

That night a tired CPT Tulowizski had informed the men of the company of their duty to capture the footbridge and the factory, which were very crucial to supply weapons support by road and foot travel, in the form of weapons, ammunition and medical supplies, to resistance formations based in the area and to help open the road to Modena for both the Allies and the resistance groups. He ended with the following words: "Lads, this bridge - the town's only pride and the longest in Europe and the world of its kind - must be captured. With all our lives at risk we most cross this bridge and capture San Marcello Pistoise, enabling a linking up of the 92nd with the 1st Armored Division's Combat Command B and the 6th South African Armoured Division, as well as with the resistance organizations, and ensure that the roads to Bologna and Modena are open. That goddamn Gothic Line must be pierced open, and you boys and men of Able... my men, are one of the first to break this line once and for all. Should I not survive, Captain Frazier... the company is yours to command. We all know that we have to make it though this bridge, even with our bodies injured and cut from the broken steel, even as it will cost all of us, or some of us, our lives. The bridge, factory, and town, all have to be taken before the offensive begins. Good luck men, our families and the whole country are counting on us, together with the brave people of Italy."

The operation to capture the suspension footbridge at San Marcello Pistoiese was about to begin, and the men of the operation, personally directed by Lieutenant Colonel Scioscia with the consent of LTCOL Campbell with Majors Young and Weinstein as the command representatives from Battalion HQ, supported by the heavy weapons company with mortars and machine guns and some infantry guns (as part of Operation Encore), together with a company sized force of resisistance elements, were as follows:

MAJ Young (Battalion HQ)

MAJ Weinstein (Battalion HQ)

MAJ Fenster (Battalion HQ)

MAJ Austin

MAJ Sogard

MAJ Hartlieb

TG4 Bloom (Company medic)

MAJ Brosius (Regimental HQ)

CPT Tulowitzki, commander of the bridge attacking force and A Company CO

CPT Frazier, newly promoted to company XO and commander of 1st Platoon

CPT Stark

CPT Kratz

1LT Jackson, 2IC of 1st Platoon

1LT Robertson, Company adjutant

1LT Casas

1LT Pike (Battalion HQ)

1LT Austin

1LT Crews, Commander of 2nd Platoon (newly promoted)

1LT Dominick (Army Reserve)

2LT Crawford, Adjutant of 2nd Platoon

2LT Federowicz

2LT Martinez

2LT Alvarez

2LT Teel, 2IC of 2nd Platoon

2LT Kazmir

2LT Parada

MSGT Wallace (Battalion HQ)

MSGT Rosenblum (Battalion HQ)

MSGT Philips (Battalion HQ)

MSGT Randolph (Battalion HQ)

TSGT De Armas (Battalion HQ, now reassigned as company quartermaster sergeant)

TSGT Payton (Company messenger and phone operator)

TSGT Gose, Company first sergeant

TSGT Filia, Platoon sergeant of 1st platoon (newly promoted)

SSGT Tanner, Platoon sergeant of 2nd platoon

SSGT Lopez

SSGT McGough

SSGT Allen

SSGT Westbrook

SSGT Carter

SSGT Susac

SGT Starling

SGT Sprinkle

SGT Kolozsvary

SGT Cross

SGT Ryan

SGT Kivlehan

SGT Kirschsieper

SGT Gonzalez

SGT Berry

SGT Long

CPL Lee

CPL Hughes

CPL Westbrook

CPL Sims

CPL Baz

CPL Barco (reassigned from 3rd Platoon)

CPL Ryan

CPL McLain

CPL Woods-Richardson

CPL White

CPL Wyatt

CPL Gilbert

CPL Wiggins

PFC Vaughn

PFC Whisenhunt

PFC Tanner

PFC Messick

PFC Lee

PFC Jung

PFC Beavers

PFC Thorpe

PFC Skenes

PFC Moore

PFC Highfill

PFC Witt

PFC Grice

PFC Long

PFC Savino

PFC Friscoe

PVT Nixon

PVT Sproat

PVT Jones

PVT Villaman

PVT Stone

PVT Trice

PVT Palmquist

PVT Harrison

@joeybosa-aaronjudge @lightninging @homerofthebraves

[bitter69uk]

“He was Johnny Rotten and Sid Vicious rolled into one, a befuddled punk prophet with a brilliant mind. Darby Crash presided over the birth of the LA punk scene in 1977 and signaled its demise with his own self-inflicted death three years later. His was a vision of chaos that would never come to pass but left in its wake a legacy of destruction and one fiery punk classic, the Germs' 1979 Joan Jett-produced album, G.I.” 

/ From “Darby Crash: Saint Anger” by Chris Campion, Dazed Digital, October 2014 /

Born on this day 65 years ago: feral frontman of first-generation Los Angeles punk band the Germs, Darby Crash (aka Bobby Pyn, real name: Jan Paul Beahm, 26 September 1958 - 7 December 1980). We don’t talk nearly enough about quite how gorgeous Crash was. “Sex Boy” indeed! (The doomed US punk equivalent of Sid Vicious, Crash died of a heroin overdose aged 22). Swallow a fistful of ‘ludes, smear yourself in peanut butter and blast “Forming”, “Lexicon Devil” or “Media Blitz” LOUD today in his memory!

[blondrichclosetwitch]

“Oh, and we were gone

Kings of oblivion

We were so turned on

In the mind-warp pavilion”

We feel it moving through our skin

It's a sickness, infinite quickness

What are you waiting for

An open door?

Show me your face

“Yah, you know, like, I would get a job

But the world’s gonna end soon

You got any 'ludes?”

I gotta testify

I think I died in that accident, ‘cause this must be Heaven

Dog, I was havin' nervous breakdowns

But I still feel possessed as a gun charge

You gon' touch the sky, baby girl, testify

You took a bic, set your hotel on fire

That's when they said I lost my only friend

Well they said she died easy of a broke heart disease

As I listened through the cemetery trees

“The first verse says, ‘The death of the long broken arm of human law.’ At times, it seems like there should be a code among human beings that is about respect and appreciation. “

But there's got to be an opening somewhere here in front of me Through this maze of ugliness and greed

We'll run until she's out of breath, she ran until there's nothing left

She hit the end, it's just her window ledge

(There was a woman 3 buildings down who jumped out her window. So literally she hit the end. )

And how they bought their positions with saccharin and trust (bought positions through finances & sex acts)

We were so turned on By your lack of conclusions —-I feel like this line is about how I never realized what was going on...apparently a lot of people involved were sexually getting off at my naivete, which apparently had to do with the fact that I got possessed. In Yonkers I was left a whole scene that insinuated the shallow coven were masturbating with my image, which freaked me completely out.

And the Devil may be here But he can't sing about that

And my brother lays upon the rocks

He could be dead, he could be not, he could be you

He's chameleon, comedian, Corinthian and caricature—

“As The Bewlay Brothers is widely accepted to be an ode to Bowie’s schizophrenic brother Terry, the image of the pair being Kings of their own imaginary land together – without anyone to tell them what to do and with their mutual understanding of each other – is just magic.”

This whole song kept being brought up as an indicator of a sick sibling. Sometimes it was Jakk, once blond said it was the reason that she was so obsessed with me, because she was my

Sick sister who couldn’t be without me.

Some say this woman was crazy

Others say this woman was possessed

And all I've known is madness

That’s what they all say right before they’re found dead.

[thestarkerisobvious]

art by @starker-sorbet                         Story for @mrstarksbaby

---------------------------------------------------

                                      INTRODUCTION:                                                 Thirteen

When Peter was 13 his guardians, alarmed at the amount of violent crime in New York City, moved to a small town named Devil’s Hollow in upstate New York in an ancient but beautiful rambling farmhouse named the Post Homestead, rumored to be founded by a family that had lived there since before New York became a state.

It was also said to be haunted, but Uncle Ben didn’t mind.  He was a practical man who didn’t believe in ‘ghosts’ and ‘superheroes’. He wanted a peaceful life, far away from the crime of the city.  Why should he care if he and no neighbors? 

Evan Post was supposed to be a witch or a warlock who could poison his neighbors’ wells.  Uncle Ben figured that meant that all the neighbors were jealous that Mr. Post had the only good well in the area.  Evan Post was said to have made his neighbors hogs lay down in the fields and die.  Uncle Ben reckoned the neighbors were jealous that Mr. Post’s pigs were healthier than theirs.  Evan Post was supposed to have used magic to drive all the rattlesnakes off of the property. Uncle Ben said that was just his good luck.

Every Sunday Aunt May went to the only church in town.  It was NOT called the First Devil’s Church, and Uncle Ben wasn’t supposed to call it that, but he did anyway.  Every other Sunday Peter went and sat beside Aunt May, combing the dictionary at the end of her huge Bible for words he didn’t know.  Every other Sunday he was allowed to stay home with Uncle Ben.

Peter was a quiet boy, but he did not like the quiet life.  The empty farmlands, pond and woods beyond gave him plenty of time to study birds, spiders, and other insects.  But the library in Devil’s Hollow was tiny, and the town had no movie theater at all. Without a movie theater, how would Peter see the last Star Wars movie as soon as it came out?  Ned had promised to tell him all about it, but long distance phone calls were expensive, and Peter wasn’t sure you COULD describe the movie in a half hour.

School, too, was a miserable place now.  Peter’s old school had a chess club AND a science club, and teachers who let him take advanced classes and encouraged (most of) his endless questions.  The Devils’ Hollow school was full of boys who hated school and liked to yell lude comments at the girls.  Most of them gave Peter a wide berth.  After all, he went home every night to a haunted house.

But Peter wasn’t completely miserable.

Not after he made friends with the thing that lived under the bed…

------------------------

MY DINNER:

@starkerprince – @starkeristheendgame – @dizziestofdaydreams – @twokinkybeans – @fleet-of-ships – @flush-styx  – @mrstarksbaby – @starker-sorbet – @von–gelmini

@castiruth -- @starkerthanreality 

If you wish to be added to the dinnertable, please let me know.

[fanficsrusz]

A Lesson To Be Learned - John Wick Smut

A/n: Requested by anon so i hope its up to your standards. I tried my best ❤️ obviously it's a smut so don't read if you don't like smut 🤷🏼‍♀️.

Summary: Y/n's co-worker flirts with her causing John to become jealous and remind her who she belongs to.

Masterlist

___________

John watched as y/n dashed around the café, swerving between the tables as she took people's orders. 

She would be finishing her shift in 15 minutes and John was here to take her home, yet the buzz of customers still hadn't died down. 

Y/n moved behind the counter once she had finished taking the last few orders and her colleague had arrived to take over from her. 

y/n removed her apron from around her waist and grabbed her bag before making her way over to a waiting John. 

"Hi" she beamed up at him and john couldn't help the small smile that played at his own lips as he saw how happy she looked. 

"Hi. You ready to go?" he asked whilst grabbing his suit jacket from the back of the chair and grabbing y/n's bag so she wouldn't have to carry it. 

Y/n nodded "yepp. Just give me a second, i need to hand over the keys to Josh". 

John couldn't help the grimace he pulled at the mention of his name. 

Josh was y/n's colleague. He was kind but he always flirted with y/n and it drove John insane. 

"Speak of the devil" y/n waved as josh approached, his arms extended for her to embrace him in a hug. 

Josh knew who John was, he knew that he was her boyfriend yet he still felt the need to flirt with her. 

"sweetheart, it's so good to see you. You look amazing. Maybe i should take you out sometime"

John clenched his teeth together as he tried to remain calm. Y/n laughed and hugged josh and handed him the keys.

"yeah maybe we can go grab some drinks." 

She moved next to john and entangled their arms as she smiled up at him. 

"John  you remember josh right. He was the one who-"

"bought you the necklace. Yeah i remember him. '' His voice was dark and laced with anger.

 Y/n felt how his arm tensed under her touch and she gave a questioning look. 

She rubbed his arm and he relaxed a little until josh decided to pipe up once again. 

"well someone had to give her some decent shit didn't they, John." sarcasm dripped from josh's mouth as he said John's name and y/n worried for his safety.

She felt John push forward, ready to kill the poor kid with whatever he could get his hands on. 

Stepping in front of John to prevent him from doing anything he would regret, y/n began to push john out of the door. 

"well look at the time. I think it's time we head home, right honey" she looked up at john who stared murderously at him, only looking down at y/n when she tapped on his chest reassuringly. 

His eyes visibly softened when he saw the worry in her eyes. 

"see you later josh" y/n smiled awkwardly as john led her outside. 

Climbing into John's mustang, y/n noticed how his grip on the steering wheel was extremely tight and his steering wasn't as smooth as it normally was. 

Y/n knew john didn't like josh, not because he hated the idea of her having male friends, but because he hated the way he acted with her. 

Y/n reached out and placed a hand onto his arm and john looked at her with a darkness glinting in his eyes. 

John took a sharp turn down an alley and if it wasn't for her seat belt, y/n would have been thrown into him. 

"john? Why did you do tha-" 

"you know I don't like him. I don't like the way he flirts with you or the way he looks at your body like he owns you." y/n gulped as john turned to face her. 

"maybe i just need to show you exactly who you belong to once again". 

Y/n watched as he unbuckled his seat belt and moved closer to her, only stopping when he hovered inches from her ear. 

"take all your clothes off" his voice was low and dark, causing y/ns core to tighten with excitement. 

She looked around at the alley and blushed deeply. "what if someone sees" she didn't want to undress in the open but at the same time the prospect of being seen excited her. 

If y/n really didn't want to do something, he wouldn't make her but the small smile on her face told John that she wanted this. 

Pulling his hand to her face, john traced the outline of her lips. His eyes never once leaving hers. 

"good, maybe it will teach you that you shouldn't let other men flirt with you. Especially in front of me" he put so much emphasis on the words he spoke and it sent a chill down her spine. 

John sat back in his seat as he watched y/n slowly unbutton her blouse, revealing the lacey bra she wore underneath. She was moving painfully slow on purpose just to tease him and john was having none of it

Looking up at john through hooded eyes, y/n watched as john gave her an unamused look. 

"don't exacerbate things y/n. You know what i want you to do". Y/n sighed and began to remove her trousers. It was harder due to the confined space but she managed. 

Once left in her underwear, john pushed his seat back so that there was a huge distance between him and the steering wheel, enough for another person to sit on top of him. 

John patted his lap and y/n moved to straddle his lap. 

The position meant john was level with her chest, not that he was complaining but he wanted to punish her a little. 

He reached his hand into her hair and pulled her down so their noses practically touched. 

"who do you belong to?" his words were bold and y/n inspected his eyes for anything other than lust or hunger for her. 

Y/n gulped and encased him in her arms as she brought their lips closer, his breath warm on her face. 

"I belong to you" she whispered and john's eyes quickly shifted to a softer glare before darkening and turning into desire once again. The smirk on his face made y/n aware that she was forgiven, but still in need of a lesson. 

John pushed his face into hers roughly and their lips collided, his colossal hands ran up her thighs, his hands easily wrapping around them as he made her spread her legs wider. Her crotch now rubbed against his own bulge in his pants. Both let out a moan as they made the contact. 

Y/n tried to push her tongue into his mouth as she tried to control the situation but John moved his hand to her ass and squeezed the flesh in between his hands, making her gasp and lose the dominance, john taking over where she left. 

Y/n began to grind her hips into his crotch, desperate for any type of contact so she could get her release. 

"please" her words were breathless as she begged him to give her the rush she so desperately needed. 

 John reached up to unclasp her bra, letting it fall into his lap. 

Y/n threw her head back as john took a nipple in between his lips, his tongue flicking the sensitive bud. He felt as y/n pushed harder into him, trying to urge him to give her more. 

The windows started to fog from the heat that was radiating of the pair as well as the quick breaths that y/n was taking from the intense pleasure she was feeling. 

Once satisfied with the work he had done on her nipples, john unzipped his pants allowing his cock to spring free.

Y/n took this time to catch her breath and admire that fact that his dick was painfully hard and she couldn't help but feel on cloud nine that he had gotten so hard just from having her grind on his lap. 

John pushed her panties to the side, not wanting to waste time taking them off. 

As he lined up his cock with her dripping entrance, john looked into y/ns eyes. 

"tell me again who you belong to. Say my name". 

Y/n took a mental note of how good he looked in the dimly lit vehicle before she allowed herself to say his name. 

"I belong to you,John. You own my ass" satisfied, john rammed himself into her. 

Despite the countless times he had fucked her, she was always just as tight as the first time.

He watched as her head fell back and a moan came from her. 

Y/n began to slowly bounce up and down on him, grinding her hips in circles. John held onto her hips tightly as he controlled the speed at which she moved. She soon fell into her own rhythm as she lifted her hips before sinking back down onto his length. She took him in deeper each time she came down on him. 

John couldn't help but call out her name as she moved atop him. 

Her ass bounced mercilessly against his suit clad thighs, the sound of her ass slapping against his thighs interlacing with John's moans mixed with her name. 

John was meant to be the one teaching her a lesson, yet he was the one left dizzy with lust. His shirt was pulled open messily from the grasp y/n had on it as she rode him, his trousers hung low on his thighs. 

The explosion of pleasure he felt from her movements made john grip onto her ass tighter, fingers digging into her skin as he helped quicken her movements. The tightness of her walls wrapped around him made him close his eyes. 

John remembered the whole point of this lesson and began to take control over her movements as he gripped onto her tighter than before. 

He slowed her movements, wanting her to beg for him to let her cum. 

It didn't take long for her to come apart. 

"John, please" she begged him to let her come to her climax and john couldn't help but enjoy the way his name fell from her lips. They were some of the sexiest noises he had ever had the pleasure to listen to, but they were drowned out by his own loud groans as his teeth skimmed the base of her neck as he left hickeys in his path. 

He reached down and flicked her clit, "scream my name y/n. I want everyone to know exactly who you belong to" 

She barely heard his demand over her lude moans but she was able to comply. 

"Fuck john. Please. Fuck he hard" john smirked before letting out his own grunts as he allowed her to quicken her movements again and she took him in deeper than ever before. 

"shit" he breathed out through clenched teeth, her moans the only response he got. 

"john" her eyes practically rolled back as she quickened her pace. 

John reached out to grab her hands but she enlaced them before guiding them up to her breasts which bounced before him. 

As he grabbed them, y/n practically screamed in pleasure as he was quick to knead and massage them. 

"mhmmmm john please harder. Fuck me harder" she neared her release as she gripped onto his hair, reminding herself that this was real and not an absurd fantasy. 

Her moans heightened in pitch as she could no longer control the spasms she felt in her stomach, her nails leaving marks on his neck as he watched her climax hit. 

"Ahhh John."

His name on her lips as she cum made john shoot his load into her as she fell limply against his chest, her face buried into his neck as she offered small kisses. She rolled her hips slowly, helping him ride out his own release. Her name escaping his mouth in breaths as he slowly came down from the high. 

John and y/n stayed still as they both tried to controlled their heavy breathing.

Y/n pulled back as she stared lovingly at john, his eyes no longer filled with lust but instead with awe and love for the women in front of him. 

She fixed his shirt and tidied his now messy hair as she still sat on his lap.

"you do realise that i am not the slightest bit interested in josh right? I only let him flirt with me so you can fuck me out of jealousy". 

She kissed over the small nail marks on his neck and moved to fall back in the passenger seat. 

John was still out of breath as he watched the girl pull on her trousers and shirt.

"I love you so much y/n but you play with fire." she leaned over and kissed his on the lips. "I love you too but I'm not afraid of getting burned". 

John laughed deeply as he tidied  his trousers up and began to drive home, unable to believe that he had a girlfriend like y/n.

The end

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Taglist (just ask to be added to a permanent taglist)

@gwenebear @celestiaelisia @blondieee-me