#someone died but it was just bob and they used that to make sure no one ELSE died

[brionysea]

if mike was straight, stranger things would've ended after season 2

[kenzlie]

𝐏𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐔𝐓. - 𝐦.𝐬

summary: 𝗒𝗈𝗎 pleasure 𝖻𝗌𝖿!𝗆𝖺𝗍𝗍 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗅𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝗈𝗐𝖾𝗋 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗈𝗎𝗍

𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗦: oral (male receiving), hair pulling, slight slapping, nicknames, small use of y/n, playful teasing, soft!matt? dom!matt?

a/n: bruh i almost just deleted this all..

you and your best friend matt were laying down in his bed watching a movie, while his brothers, nick and chris, were asleep upstairs.

it was around 1:00AM and it was quiet, the only noise was the sound coming from the tv in front of you two and the loud thunderstorm coming from outside.

in the middle of the movie the power goes out “fuck..” matt curses under his breath, barley above a whisper. matt sits up using his forearms to hold him up on the mattress, “what? are you scared of the dark?” you tease “what? no!” matt says sitting up fully now. you reach your hand over to the nightstand, searching for where you last placed your phone.

a few minutes go by and it’s still dark, the only light was the one coming from your phone, matt placed his hand on your bare thigh, the feeling of his cold jewelry sent shivers down your spine, he snatches his hand back quickly “my bad” he said, but something told you that wasn’t just a ‘accident’. you brushed it off and told him it was fine.

it’s been half an hour now and the power was still out, “matt, im thirsty” you say before the light on your phone went out, your phone had died and you couldn’t charge it, “wait let me get my flashlight first” matt told you before going to reach for his phone but remembering it was also dead “shit.” he groans “j-just grab my hand and i’ll lead you” he says putting his hand out as you place your hand in his, good thing he couldn’t see you because you were as red as a tomato, he stands up, still holding your hand, he leads to out of the room and towards the kitchen “whatcha want to drink?” he asks, “just a water” you reply, he hands you the water when all of a sudden there was a loud thunder, out of shock, you grab onto matt, holding him close “and i was the one scared” he teases, you slap his arm playfully before laughing

its’s been exactly an hour since the power went off, you both were extremely bored, “i’m gonna try to get some sleep it’s pretty late, goodnight matt” you say before turning your back towards him “your right, im gonna go to bed too, goodnight” he turns his back towards yours before you both drift off to sleep

it’s 3AM now and something or someone was cuddled up behind you grinding softly, you toss your head back onto matts shoulder whimpering softly “m-matt..” you groan, he whines softly as you can feel him growing harder “n-need you..” matt begs, he didn’t even know what he was doing, he was clearly having a dream about something, “matt.” you say a bit louder before he wakes up, he snaps back to reality and sits up fully “i am..so sorry..” he says, clearly meaning it “it’s okay you didn’t know..” you assure him as you sit up and rub the side of his face “plus, if you needed me that bad, you could’ve just asked pretty boy” you state before reaching your hand down to palm his aching hard cock through his pj pants “f-fuck” he whines clearly desperate “need y-your mouth..” he says as he grabs your wrist

you laid down between his legs, your hands pulling his pants down slowly, “hurry” he says in a pleading tone, you pull his boxers down the sound of his cock hitting his lower stomach made your mouth drool, even with no power you still wanted to make sure he didn’t go to bed hard, your hand reaches out cuffing it before you lean forward slightly, you suck the tip earning whimpers from matt, it wasn’t long before you filled your mouth with his throbbing cock, you bobbed your head not fast but not slow either “just like that!” matt moaned loudly causing you to smirk, that pissed matt off, he grabbed your hair into a makeshift ponytail as his hips thrusted up into your face “fucking whore!!” he groaned out, forcing you to take him deeper, there were a couple of tears in your eyes as he slammed his cock in and out of your mouth “g-gonna cum..” he whined barley audible, you went faster as he whined and moaned before shooting his load in your mouth, you swallowed it all not leaving a drop left “god i just know you look so pretty right now..” he praised.

a/n: i didn’t feel like finishing the rest, so here 😭

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @chrissslut @xoxo4chrisss @luvb0xoxo @phoenix062 (if i didn’t tag you it was because i couldn’t find your @)

[gallierhouse]

I genuinely don’t understand how Lestat is likable. Charming, handsome, seductive, sure. But likable? Imagine being a vampire. You’ve presumably been a vampire for a while. You live in the sewers and do nothing but self-flagellation and worship Satan. Then Lestat appears, and he’s a stage actor, and he’s beautiful and he lives his life in the light, not hidden away in shame. He fraternizes with humans, he’s a part of their society. Then you find out that he was made by Magnus, the same Magnus that deserted your Satan-worshipping cult, the all-powerful Magnus who only ever made one fledgling, and then immediately fucked off and died, leaving Lestat with his blood, power, and money. Lestat is the ultimate nepotism baby of Parisian vampire society at this point. So your boss goes to put him in line, and despite your boss overpowering Lestat physically, psychically, mentally, in literally every conceivable manner, Lestat somehow wins. He does this not through vampiric thrall or physical power, but simply by waltzing into the sewer and giving an arrogant little speech and throwing crucifix on the ground. Any vampire there could’ve killed him in an instant. But they don’t, and suddenly he’s their new leader, and he makes them all move to a theatre and rejoin human society, put on plays, etc. Then he goes back to the sewer to hook up with your leader who he’s utterly humiliated, and he comes back with new powers because he’s got the blood of two ancient vampires now, and then he fucks your old leader in a theatre box for everyone to see. Then some sort of boyfriend drama occurs, someone dies, it’s unclear, which leads him to bury himself in the ground for sixty years, and the moment he wakes up he immediately leaves for America. No goodbyes, no here’s my new address for future correspondence, he just leaves. Then you don’t hear from this man who liberated then led then enslaved you into being a theatre employee all while fucking your boss so good it permanently rearranged his brain and made him kill that man’s ex-boyfriend for about a hundred years, and then when you do, it turns out he’s been murdered by a child. Not any ordinary child, but his child, and she’s also a failure of a vampire (see: the great laws). So that’s humiliating. But it turns out he’s not really dead and he’s been sulking and eating rats, so you have him shipped back to Paris, and then the most dramatic throuple argument of all time occurs, because did I mention that your leader who used to get fucked by Lestat is now fucking Lestat’s ex-husband? Then you and your friends set up a sham trial to get rid of Lestat’s terrible, ungrateful, misbehaving fledglings and to usurp your leader and Lestat’s ex-situationship, because he’s really gotten annoying and dickmatized by Lestat’s ex-husband at this point, and the trial goes alright, but then Lestat saves his ex-husband (who literally tried to murder him, mind you) and immediately fucks off post-trial. Simultaneously, while the trial is happening, it’s definitely possible that your maitre (well, ex-maitre) at this point is torturing him, possibly because they’re still working out the fact that Lestat ghosted him. Then more time passes and suddenly there’s a book about Lestat published, then another couple years pass and he sells our Madison Square Garden, whatever the fuck that means. Like, it has to be so annoying to be a vampire and to be stuck as nothing but a witness to the hurricane of Lestat. The world moves when he wants it to! It spins on his axis! And he’s done nothing to deserve any of that power besides what, having a cunty little bob?

[sebsxphia]

three tender lovers.

robert ‘bob’ floyd x reader x jake ‘hangman’ seresin.

￫ description: bob proposes a solution to jake’s remarks to the marks on bob’s back. all three of you find resolution and something else. love.

￫ word count: 6.7K.

￫ c/w: threesome, sex, blowjobs, squirting, kissing, double creampie, nipple pinching, biting, scratching, praise, minor degradation, overstimulation, hints of mean dom bob and dom jake, use of the nickname “bunny”, crying kink if you squint, sub-space, aftercare, beginnings of a poly!relationship and our boys kissin’.

￫ a/n: this is for @sushiwriterhere threesomeissance 2023 writing event! thank you so much for tagging me my love, this was so much fun to write! <3 make sure you check out the other incredible pieces! <3 my main masterlist can be found here! 💌

Bob up-stretched his arms and shed his undershirt from his flight suit. It practically stuck to his skin with sweat and grime from a day of flying too close to the sun. He was about to hit the showers quickly in enough time to make it back home to you.

He was never one to hang about after training. The quicker he could get in and out, the quicker he could get home to his wife. That was before he heard a loud clang of a locker from behind him, followed by a whistle.

“Damn, Baby. You’ve been in a fight with a bear or somethin’?”

Jake’s voice from behind Bob caused his eye to twitch. He turned around to face the blonde pilot with an unphased expression on his face. Jake on the other hand was wearing his million-dollar, cock sure smile. He leaned against his locker with nothing on. All he was holding was his towel, bunched up in his hand and just about covering his cock.

Bob hated how overly confident Jake could be in the showers. He also hated how he found himself always trying to get a glance.

Jake had opted to now call Bob, Baby. It all stemmed from his years-old joke of what B.O.B. stood for. Baby on Board was too long for Jake, so he was just Baby.

“How’d you get those war marks on your back, Baby?” Jake jabbed again, licking at his bottom lip.

Bob’s eyes narrowed inwards towards Jake before cooling off. He chewed at the inside of his cheek as he remembered last night with you. He wanted to tell Jake to fuck off and that his sex with you is private, and he’d never utter a word to anyone about your shared, deepest darkest fantasies.

But then he remembered your shared discussion of bringing someone else in and how you both settled on Jake as a possible option. It was only talk, but at this point, Bob bit the hand that fed him.

“I don’t know,” He shrugged. “Why don’t y’ ask my wife?”

A chorus of hollers and cheers from the other pilots in the locker room could be heard and Jake bit back a laugh.

“As if, Baby. I don’t believe you fuck that good.”

“Y’ know, Bagman, if y’ want to see, how about you fuck my wife yourself?” He slammed his locker door and stared down at Jake.

Bob couldn’t help it, he really couldn’t. It had been playful, teasing jabs at one another for years and as it went on, they became far more flirtatious on both party's accounts. The locker room went into another uproar at Bob’s quick tongue and mouthful back at the cocky pilot, but he was still holding his intense gaze.

Jake’s smile had faltered an inch, only his eyes zoned in on Bob’s. He let his tongue run alongside his cheek and puffed out his chest. He wanted Bob to call bluff so badly, to call off whatever this was, to prove Jake wrong that he hadn’t been flirting with him all these years, but Bob didn’t move an inch. Not until he flung his towel over his shoulder and headed for the showers.

He briefly heard the laughter and other remarks from the pilots before the commotion died down. As he turned on the shower, the sound of water filtering through and splashing on the tiles drowned out the rest. That was until he heard the footsteps inch closer towards him.

Out of Bob’s peripheral vision, broad shoulders and sandy blonde hair came too. He continued to pay no mind to him and let the sound of the water continue to fill the room. It ran over the thick and heavy tension that was settling in the air. Neither of them spoke a word as they lathered themselves up with soap and let the duds fall to the tiles and down the drain. Unknown to either of them, they would occasionally steal glances at the other when getting the soap out of their eyes.

Bob would watch how the droplets of water dribbled down Jake’s toned torso and caught on the soft hairs of his pubic bone.

Jake would follow the trail of veins poking through Bob’s forearms and up his biceps, watching how they flexed in time with him washing the shampoo out of his hair.

Bob reached to the small shelf holding the soap to lather himself one last time. His fingers outstretched and met another set of hands reaching for the same. They met Jake’s and through the soaking water, he felt a jolt meet his fingertips and run through his veins. He was surprised at how soft they felt, yet he knew they could control a whole aircraft. It made a shiver start in his neck and run down his spine. The warm water did nothing to hide the goosebumps that were left in its wake.

Jake looked up and caught Bob’s eyes for the first time during the shower. He swallowed thickly before croaking out, “Baby, what I said back there, I didn’t mean—”

“This Saturday. I know you’re free. Come round to ours at seven.”

Before Jake could respond to Bob’s bold response, he slammed his water off, grabbed his towel and was out of the shower.

Jake was left with his lips parted in a breathless and wordless daze. His hand was still wrapped around the soap and squeezing so tight, he didn’t realize he had destroyed the bar completely.

He couldn’t believe he was here. He’d been round to Bob’s only once before and that was only to drop some paperwork off. He hadn’t even been in his hallway, let alone his bedroom, with his wife.

Everything had been agreed upon prior. Jake came round at seven on the Saturday as agreed and you answered the door with a warm and welcoming smile.

He could never deny that Bob’s wife was beautiful. You were radiant. He offered in return a kiss to your cheek and let his large hand fall to the small of your back, bringing you in. His hand was warm and firm. You felt your heart pound a little faster through your rib cage at his touch, letting your mind wonder what his hand would feel like against your bare skin.

Jake let himself inhale your perfume that rested under your jaw and the sweet smell of shampoo in your hair. It was intoxicating to him. You were beaming at him as you greeted him politely, took his jacket and hung it up on the coat hooks in the hallway.

It was such a simple gesture, but with the combined smell of something delicious cooking through the kitchen, Jake felt safe. He had entered a warm and loving home, and it settled his nerves to whatever was about to be offered.

You ate (with Jake complimenting Bob’s cooking more times than he could count), exchanged more polite conversation and then agreed on what was to happen. You slinked up to your bedroom to shed your sundress into something else before calling your husband and his co-worker upstairs. Bob took the lead up the stairs with Jake following behind.

As he came into your bedroom and saw the sight of you, a deep rumble of appreciation left Bob’s chest with a smirk resting on his lips. “My beautiful, beautiful, wife. You look gorgeous, darlin’.”

“Thank you.” You shyly replied, feeling the heat creep up your cheeks as Jake came through the doorway and his eyes fell on you.

It was the first time he had seen you like this. So exposed, so vulnerable. You were wearing a simple oversized white shirt, one that Bob would wear with his Navy whites. It was far too torn and tattered for him to wear anymore, but it became a piece of clothing Bob would become ravenous over, especially if you weren’t wearing anything underneath.

The open shirt lay over your stiff nipples but didn’t hide the swell of your breasts. With your legs crossed as you sat on the edge of your bed, you could just about catch the soft mound of your pubic bone, but your thighs were exposed. The drape of the shirt barely covered them.

Jake swallowed thickly again and his tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip, feeling his mouth dry up ever more. He let his heavy gaze run up and over your body and your cheeks only turned a rosier shade of pink, flushed hot. His cock twitched in his pants and it prompted him, after not saying anything for what seemed like an eternity.

“You… You look, gorgeous. Bob’s a lucky husband.” Jake half-heartedly laughed.

He was nervous.

Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin was nervous.

Bob had a natural-born instinct for reading people and he could tell in an instant what Jake was doing.

Truth be told, Jake had already had a couple of threesomes in his lifetime, but it had never been this intimate. It had never been with a co-worker's wife, never with someone who he had come to like, never in a safe and loving environment.

Bob let his hand fall to Jake’s back and gently ran his thumb in circles to soothe the nerves of the pilot. He smoothed his hand down his back further and gently linked his fingers with his to coax him closer to you and your bed.

Jake now stood in front of you with Bob to the side and his hand gently resting in your hair. You stayed sat and gazed up at the tall blonde with a look of lust clouding your eyes.

“Jake?” You called out his name sweetly. It was barely above a whisper but his ears turned hot at hearing you say his name so sweetly. “Can I touch you?”

Your question and now the clear sight of your breasts caused Jake’s cock to twitch again, and he breathed out a desperate, “Yes.”

You tentatively reached your hands out and let your fingers graze over his shirt, feeling the ripple of muscles underneath him. You moved over his large forearms and further up his biceps. As your hands rose higher, you eventually stood up from the bed, Bob’s hand never leaving your frame and now resting on the small of your back. It was a familiar touch that still grounded you to him, despite the situation.

Your hands ran around his shoulders and behind his neck. “You can touch me, Jake.” You quietly prompted him, now standing to his height. His hands reached out and fell to your hips. He squeezed you gently through the crisp fabric of the shirt and you let out a gasp. “Remember, you say the word and we stop this.”

He nodded, but Bob pressed his finger to Jake’s chin to turn him. “Words, baby.”

Baby.

Baby.

Bob Floyd was calling Jake, baby and it ignited something so deep within him he could feel a flame lick at his stomach.

“Yes. We say the words and we stop this.” Jake corrected himself and you smiled at him with an electrified smile. He had tasted love and it tasted sweet. The flame that was licking in his stomach was burning bright and deep, and it encouraged him greatly. He felt a newfound swell of confidence burn over him and he hooked his finger under your chin and brought your lips to his.

His kiss was soft at first, letting his lips become accustomed to yours before you let out a needful whine and tugged at the soft blonde hairs at the base of his neck. You pulled him closer and he reciprocated with a harsher squeeze of your hips. They were flush against his crotch and you could feel his ever-growing bulge rub against you. The grind from you caused him to groan into the kiss and let his tongue dip between your lips and run alongside.

Both your cheeks were flush with a warm glow and Bob could feel the heat radiating off you both, as you continued to press yourself against Jake growing hotter with desire. You parted from his lips with a gasp, unable to hold back your ever-growing smile.

“Jake, Bobby,” You turned to your husband whose eyes were heavy and his pupils completely dilated black. “I need you both.”

“Of course,” Bob purred and slid his hand from your back to the base of your neck, pulling you to be millimetres from his lips. “Will you be a good girl and show our guest what your pretty little mouth can do?”

You quietly moaned and nodded, letting Bob pull at your neck and press his lips to yours in a searing kiss. Jake let out a curse of your name at seeing you bend to his touch. He was beginning to get a taste of just how dominant Bob could be and it intrigued him even further.

“Off for me and on your knees,” Bob instructed you again with a flick of his finger under your shirt. You willingly shed your shirt and let it fall to the bed. Now completely naked to Jake, he let out a wanton groan. You sank to your knees and gazed longingly upwards at the two pilots, their cocks both straining hard against their trousers and appearing prominently.

The sight was nothing like Jake had ever seen before. Your nipples were stiff and you sat obediently with your hands in your lap, awaiting your husband's next instruction. But it never came. Jake’s shoulders had rolled backwards and he was relaxed. He was adhering to the agreement that you were to do as they say. He let his fingers cradle your jaw and gently slipped his thumb between your lips. You took it into your mouth eagerly and sucked on it. The feeling of your tongue swirling around his thumb had him longing to know what it felt like on his hard cock.

“Jesus, such a sweet thing, Bobby. So good, so obedient.” Jake purred and Bob chuckled.

“There’s the Jake I had imagined in the bedroom,” Bob said lowly with a smirk.

Jake couldn’t hold back the heat that rose to his cheeks as he thought of Bob imagining him in the bedroom, but he was brought back to the present by the needy moan of you below them.

Bob shushed you gently and reassured you. “I’m sorry, darlin’. We’ve been deprivin’ you, haven’t we?” You nodded again and this time, they both let out a low chuckle.

They made quick work of unbuckling their belts and pushing the waistband of their boxers down to let their aching cocks slap against their torsos. You had always thought Bob was big, but Jake was no different. Your mouth began to salivate and you moved towards Bob, but his hand was in your hair and pulling you back with a click from his tongue.

“Nu-uh, darlin’. Guests first.”

You swallowed and looked back at Jake who was gazing down at you with his pupils blown wide with desire. He gripped the base of his cock and let his tip move past your lips tentatively. The soft feeling of your mouth wrapping just around his tip had Jake groaning. You moved your mouth further down his shaft, with Bob’s hand not letting go of your hair to steady you, but it couldn’t stop you. You wanted to feel Jake rest heavily on your tongue completely. You felt his tip nudge at your throat and a gag rumbled through your throat. Jake stumbled and his hips stuttered forward.

“Shit. Oh God, sweets. So needy for me already, hm?”

You whined around him and it vibrated off his shaft, earning another deep groan from Jake. Your eyes flicked to the side and you caught a glimpse of Bob fisting his cock heavy in his hand, his jaw set solid and his eyes trained heavily on you both, watching how your mouth took every inch of him. You wanted to put on a show for your dear and loving husband. You wanted to show him you craved this just as badly as him.

You worked your mouth up and over Jake’s thick shaft with precise strokes. Every time his swollen tip hit the back of your throat he let out another rumbled groan, earning smaller groans from Bob. Your tongue was laying flat underneath his base and it allowed Bob to gently start rocking your head for himself, letting Jake fuck your throat, his hips rocking into you.

Another handful of movements from Bob came before he was getting antsy. “C’ere, sweetheart.” He purred and moved your head off Jake to place your swollen lips around his shaft. You sunk easily, knowing every inch and vein like the back of your hand. Your nose brushed against Bob’s brown curls at his base as he rocked into your mouth. You gazed up at your husband with tears starting to prick the corners of your eyes from your throat being fucked so consistently. Bob’s jaw was still set firm as he revelled in the familiar feeling of his wife’s mouth, letting out deep moans and hissing when his tip hit the back of your throat repeatedly.

But Jake was beginning to get cocky.

“I thought we were doing this so I could fuck your wife stupid. Earn those bear marks of yours.” Jake drawled out with a smug tone before reaching for your hair and pulling you off Bob, leaving him snarling from the loss of contact so suddenly. A pitiful whine left your lips with a string of saliva still connecting to your husband's tip. As you swallowed back around Jake’s cock you began to bounce gently on your knees, your bare cunt trying to find friction from the air as desperation began to make you clench around nothing.

Bob let out a chuckle as he saw you hump the air pathetically. “I don’t think y’ need to wait much longer.” He pulled you off Jake once more and cradled your jaw to let you gaze upwards. “Do y’ want to be fucked now, Bunny? You’ve been so good for me and your guests.”

“Please, please, please. I’ve been so good.” You pouted slightly, your eyes pleading desperately with your husband. He hummed in pleasant agreement and reached down to pick you up gently, laying you on the bed as if you were fragile porcelain.

By this time Jake was already stripping himself off his clothes and Bob followed in tandem. Although your mouth was just full of heavy saliva, your throat dried up and your breathing quickened as you caught sight of the two naked pilots. Bob’s beauty was always intoxicating and dizzying to you and you found Jake giving you the same effect.

You counted your lucky stars of your current situation and your husband found himself doing the same. He had seen Jake naked too many times for him to count, but this was different. His eyes were heavy with desire, and his cheeks and chest were flushed with the most beautiful rosy pink. He had never noticed how blonde the soft curls were on his pubic bone, as his cock was pressed against his tone torso, although he’d caught sight of them constantly in the showers. They replicated how his hair was dusty and sun-kissed blonde, already becoming ruffled from Jake running his hand through his hair.

Bob thought he’d never looked so handsome.

“Jake?”

“Baby?”

The name made Bob shiver and his stomach crashed like thunderous waves against stone rocks.

“Can I kiss you?”

“Please, Baby.” Jake gasped before wrapping his hand around the back of Bob’s head, his fingers tugging gently on his hair as he pressed his lips against his. They both let out a deep moan in unison. Years of tension and yearning rolled off their shoulders and bubbled up their throats as they tasted each other for the first time.

You watched keenly from the bed. It both made your heart bloom with a thousand flowers that your husband found solace within Jake and caused your abdomen to feel as though a thousand butterflies were coursing through you. Your thighs pressed and rubbed together to alleviate some of the growing arousal. You let out a whimper and they broke from the kiss to look at you, both with a lopsided smile on their faces.

As you pulled your thighs apart and felt the cool air run over your twitching cunt, Bob cooed. “Bunny, we’re so sorry. We’re comin’.”

Jake could feel his mouth salivate at the sight of Bob’s wife’s thighs spread apart and their pussy glistening with arousal, practically throbbing. “Look at that pretty pussy, sweets. Your thighs are slick already.” He groaned, kneeling between your thighs.

Bob took place up by your head, letting his hand soothe through your hair and his other holding the base of his cock, giving himself lazy, slow strokes.

Your hands came under your thighs to hold yourself open for him, squirming your hips closer to his cock as Jake took it in his hand and slapped it on your aching clit. It jolted sparks of pleasure through your abdomen at its first contact and you let out a loud whine. Your hips involuntarily bucked upwards to chase the feeling and Jake relished in the neediness of your touch. His free hand came to grip your hip as he ran his tip through your folds and collected your arousal, smearing it over your clit. It earned louder moans from yourself and more desperate bucking. He was smirking down at you with his signature cock sure smile.

“I want to remember the moment I slip my cock inside Bob’s wife’s tight pussy.”

He hissed as he slowly slid inside you and felt your slick walls take him, clenching tightly. He was thicker than Bob and you squirmed your hips, moaning as you adjusted to his size. He cursed to himself and threw his head back when your hips met his.

“Jesus, takin’ me so pretty, sweetheart. That’s it… Good fuckin’ girl.” He purred down to you as he momentarily slid out before feeling his tip run back over your sweet spot nestled deep inside you. At each slow and teasing stroke, you clenched tighter around him. You finally felt so full and you didn’t want the feeling to be taken away. You were desperately chasing it.

As he set a pace you glanced up at Bob with a couple of stray tears now leaving the corners of your eyes. “B—Bobby,” You whined. “He feels s’ g—good. It feels so good, fuck!”

Bob’s thumb gently wiped your tears away and smoothed over your hot cheeks, gently reassuring you. “Such a good girl for me. My pretty little wife looking s’ fuckin’ pretty takin’ another pilot's cock.”

As his thumb came down to his lips, you took it into your mouth to soothe yourself, but Bob removed it quickly. “No, no. C’ere,” He gripped the mid-length of his cock and let his tip fall between your parted lips. You eagerly sucked as much of his length as you could from this angle. “Good, Bunny.” He praised you.

You let your eyes flutter shut as the beginnings of complete pleasure roll over your body in waves. Over and over, you felt the powerful thrust of Jake’s hips with Bob rocking and resting heavily on your tongue. Two pairs of hands were gripping onto your flesh or soothing over your goosebumps, occasionally tugging on your stiff nipples to elicit louder, yet muffled, moans. You were stuffed full and you felt whole.

Jake’s thrusts picked up their pace and he was pistoning with such pressure you could feel the familiar warmth in your stomach grow. As his pubic bone met yours it grazed over your clit. It was small and frictionless contact, but the teasing alone had you nearly coming undone.

“They’re squeezin’ me so tight.” Jake gritted between his teeth, still cursing your name so pretty.

The corners of Bob’s lips quirked upwards and his eyes zoned in your expression. Your jaw was slack and although still stuffed full, you were drooling around his length with your eyes all but rolling back into your skull. He knew you were close.

“You want to earn those bear marks now?” Bob quipped. He grunted and nodded feverishly at him. Bob slipped from your mouth with drool still connecting to his tip. You mewled as he left you, but he was quick to reassure you he would be right here as he slid his hands into your hair.

With silent encouragement from Bob, Jake doubled down over your body and his large frame covered you whole. Your hands fell to his shoulders and gripped them tightly. One of his broad forearms rested by you to hold himself up enough that he could snake his hand between your slick sweaty bodies and find your aching clit. The soft pads of his fingers connected to you and you cried out his name loudly, finally feeling a firm pressure. He drew lazy circles around you with his thrusts now seemingly impossibly closer to you.

“Please, please, please… oh God!” Incoherent babbling left you as hot tears continued to streak down your cheeks. You never thought your husband’s, co-workers cock, could ever feel so fucking good.

“Bobby, Bobby!” You screamed instinctively. “Can I come?”

You heard him bark out a laugh behind you.

“Don’t ask me. It’s not my cock makin’ you cry, Bunny.”

Your brain was clouded with what felt like cotton and you scrambled to find the words quickly as your orgasm was building at a frighteningly quick pace.

“Jake! Can I come? Oh God, please can I come?” You babbled. Through his laboured breathing, you felt his warm breath tickle against your ear as he chuckled.

“Never gon’ want any other cock, sweets. I’ve ruined you for your husband, haven’t I?” Condensation was laced thick in his tone and it made you squeeze your eyes tightly shut, holding on so tight to stave off your orgasm.

“Look at me, sweetheart.” He barked out the order and your eyes peeled open with the most pleading expression you could muster, as he continued to rock deeply into you. Your nails by now were forming crescent shapes on his tanned skin. The beginnings of the bear marks. “Tell me, fuckin’ tell me and you can come.”

Everyone who was currently in the bedroom that was dowsed in the scent of sweat and sex, knew that this was not true. You would always love Bob and you would always want his cock. It was certainly still the most mouth-watering and appealing thing to you. You found yourself dreaming of having them both ruin you, forever.

But at this moment, Jake’s lusting and filthy words were clouding your senses and making Bob’s cock twitch heavy in his hand. For he too was incredibly aroused by Jake’s words and the sight below him.

“Y—you’ve, r—ruined me, Jake.” Your bottom lip began to tremble. “Please!” You begged with a hoarse cry. His fingertips pressed down firmer with precise motions and the last thing you saw before you snapped, was him grinning down at you like the Devil.

“Come for me, sweets.”

With a couple more swipes of his fingers over your abused clit, combined with the punishing pleasure from his thick cock, you were seeing stars. A white-hot feeling flooded from your abdomen outwards across your body. Your toes curled and you wailed. The crashing sensation of your orgasm wracked your body whole, cursing his name, Bob’s name.

You felt Bob’s hands soothe through your hair and you could faintly hear his sweet praise over Jake’s loud groans.

Jake didn’t let up with his thrusts. He pressed his sweaty frame closer to yours and snaked his hand away from your twitching clit. His face pressed into the crook of your neck and your nails raked over his back as he fucked you through your orgasm. With how close you were held against him, there was still enough friction rubbing mercilessly over your clit. His voice was hot in your ear and you heard him.

“Feel s’ fuckin’ good for me, I’m so lucky. You’re both so perfect, shit.” At his final curse, he groaned deep into your sweat-covered neck and you felt his teeth graze over your tender flesh and suck harshly. He was hissing and grunting with his thrusts becoming sloppier, but you could feel himself leak into you.

Everything was so deadly intoxicating. You never wanted to leave this room. You wanted to stay with them both forever.

His thrusts eventually slowed completely and he pulled off your burning frame. His own body was completely flushed pink with his sandy blonde hair mused and some strands of his hair stuck to his forehead with sweat. As his softening cock pulled out of you and you felt his spend trickle down your puffy lips, you let out a pitiful whine, suddenly feeling so empty.

He wore a satisfied grin as he gazed over the pretty sight of your pussy and then back up at Bob. You felt Bob’s large hands trail over your shoulders and squeeze against your breasts. You craned your neck to look at him with your eyelashes fluttering and a cock drunk smile plastered over your lips. Your body trembled with anticipation, knowing you still had Bob, and your clit was still aching for just one more.

A chorus of praises and strings of kisses to your warm flesh, left the two pilots' lips as they gently moved your trembling frame. Jake sat against the headboard with your back pressed against his chest. A pillow was slid under your hips to elevate them higher to allow Bob to make your eyes water from pleasure with the angle. Your hands were holding onto Jake’s forearms as you looked your husband in the eye, kneeling in front of you with a grin.

He held the base of his cock firmly and let his tip run through your folds and catch Jake’s spend mixing with your leaking arousal. He pushed it against your swollen clit and you let out a breathy moan, your eyes already faltering shut. Behind you, Jake watched the scene unfold with hooded eyes and soft groans. Bob teased you for a moment longer before easily bottoming out inside of you with a hiss and a groan.

“S’ warm for me, Bunny. Taken Jake’s cock and you’re still so tight for me, aren’t you?”

You mewled and dug your nails in tighter to Jake’s forearm, earning more scratches on his skin. Bob had patiently sat by and watched his friend fuck his wife. He was wasting no time and set a cruel pace instantly. The sudden feeling of feeling so full with his familiar size had you moaning and squirming your hips already, but he kept his hands firmly on your thighs to hold you open and take what he gave you. His swollen tip was rubbing mercilessly at your spongy sweet spot and the angle was enhancing your pleasure to a feeling so sweet, that you felt as though you could burst. One of Jake’s large hands snaked upwards to pinch and tweeze your nipples, heightening your sensitivity. You heard his groans low and hot in your ear as you responded with desperate whines.

Pleasure was licking at the flame in your abdomen, but with your heightened sensitivity it was producing something else. Something more.

“Oh, Bobby!” You practically wailed. He felt the way you clenched tightly around him and how your walls pushed down. He knew your body like the back of his hand.

He groaned at the tightening sensation and gave a final piercing thrust before pulling his cock out entirely. You pushed down and gasped out a breathy moan as you felt your arousal squirt out of you.

“That’s it, good girl, good fuckin’ girl.” Bob groaned again with a knowing and smug smile pulling at the corners of his lips. He moved his fingers through your wetness and watched it splatter over your thighs.

“Jesus, Baby. Makin’ them feel so good.” Jake groaned louder from behind you, before directing his words back to you. “I’d love to see you squirt on my cock next.”

You could hear the cocky pilot's grin from behind you as he let his lips run over the shell of your ear and nibble gently.

There was a deadly concoction mixing in your abdomen as Bob bottomed out inside of you again and you took in Jake’s words. The notion of another night like this had your head spinning. Their sinful words and fiery touch on your skin had you feeling hot and dizzy. The pleasure was seeping through every vein of your body with every jolt caused by Bob’s cock pushing deep inside of you. You were gasping and moaning incoherently, only able to feel this ecstasy-inducing feeling. If it wasn’t for their grip on your body, you would’ve gone completely limp.

Suddenly you could feel Bob’s soft thumb on your now throbbing clit, rubbing precise circles. There was nothing lazy about Bob Floyd when he fucked.

Hot tears began to fall from the corners of your eyes and streak down your cheeks. You were babbling nonsense by now and you felt your impending orgasm grow closer with each swipe of his thumb. Your jaw was going slack and as you panted hungrily, tiny droplets of drool were pooling in the corners of your mouth.

“Are you gonna come again?” You whimpered his name in response and Bob snickered. “You are, aren’t you? So desperate for cock. It’s pathetic to watch. My sweet little Bunny practically drools as they take another man’s cock.”

Your stomach swirled at his words, in time with the swirl of his thumb. “Bobby!” It was a shriek of a plea, like nothing Jake had ever heard before. “Please can I come? Please, please, please…”

As you begged harder, your tears began to fall harder. Bob watched your body lovingly, with heavy hooded eyes. He saw every twitch, every shiver, every squirm, and he knew when your body couldn’t take anymore. He was still merciless with his strokes and thumb, but as you locked your pleading and tearing eyes with him once more, his firm set expression softened and his voice was coaxing you.

“Come. Come for me my baby Bunny.”

Your jaw went slack and a silent scream tore from your throat as you let the bubbling sensation of your orgasm burst through your abdomen, feeling the tendrils of pleasure wash over your body in crashing waves. Your hands shot up to wrap around the back of Jake’s head and pull tightly on the smaller hairs at the base of his neck. Your body withered and your chest was heaving, panting furiously as the sensation rolled over your body repeatedly. You faintly heard a string of praise from them both, Jake’s low voice still hot in your ear. Bob’s praise turned to grunts and with two more forceful thrusts, you could feel him leak his spend inside of you.

His ministrations slowed and as your head lolled to the side of Jake’s shoulder, you still let out a quiet and needy whine again, feeling so empty and feeling the now double mix of cum leaking from your abused cunt.

Your head felt full of cotton. You reached out with shaky hands to your lover. “Bobby…” You breathed out, barely above a whisper. He leaned down and took your shaking frame from Jake’s slick chest. He pressed you close to his own and with Jake’s help, he moved you to lay limp against him with his broad arms encasing you tightly. Jake stayed next to you both and let his fingers trail tenderly over your damp back.

All three of your chests were steadying out with calculated breaths, as you all came down from your highs. Tender and loving kisses were placed on your skin from them both, and more hushed words of love and praise were whispered close to your ears.

When your energy eventually came back, Bob cleaned you up gently with Jake’s help. The remainder of the leftovers from your prior dinner were fed to you and you gulped down more glasses of water than you could count. The duvet cover was changed and with your head still feeling full of soft cotton, and your body swimming with the afterglow, your two pilots lay down to sleep with you.

Before the peaceful waves of sleep pulled you under, you remember watching how lovingly Jake cradled Bob’s jaw and placed a kiss on his lips. The next thing you felt was his tender fingers bringing your jaw up to place his lips on yours. Your cheek then felt another pair of lips and you turned your face to find Bobby’s.

You kissed them both a handful more times. Each time your heart pounded a little faster and you felt the thousand butterflies flutter through your stomach.

Maybe this could work.

Maybe, this could be a forever thing.

Jake stayed on Sunday till around three in the afternoon. You all woke up late and lazily gathered yourselves to share a warm, yet deeply refreshing, shower.

You spent the rest of your time in the kitchen, just talking and eating. You spoke about everything and anything. You talked about the prior night, you talked about aircraft manoeuvres that had gone wrong, and you asked Jake about his home and where he grew up. Occasionally you found yourself pressed into Jake’s side with one of his broad arms incasing you close to his chest, as you both watched Bob cook up the food. Jake insisted that he would make you both a homemade recipe his Ma taught him some time.

All three of you exchanged fluttering touches and loving kisses with each other, and Jake found something blooming deep within his chest. He felt safe within this peaceful and domesticated home. He didn’t want to leave.

Come the evening on the Sunday, you were curled in between Bob’s thighs as you both read in peaceful silence.

“I really like him, you know.”

You spoke out into the silence. There was a beat before you felt Bob’s chest take a deep breath and then exhale. You glanced up at him and he wore a soft smile as he placed a tender kiss on your forehead.

“Yeah. Me too, Bunny. Me too.”

A chorus of loud cheers and hollers broke out and echoed across the locker room on Monday. Javy slapped Jake on his bare back, making note of the marks scratched down his flesh.

“Jake! Now who’s been fighting with a bear?”

Bob continued to look forward at his locker as he gathered up the remainder of his belongings, paying no note to the commotion he heard behind him.

Jake huffed out a laugh and flashed his signature smile to Javy, acting as if nothing was out of the ordinary.

“Yeah, something like that.”

Bob smiled to himself at hearing Jake’s words. The images of Saturday evening and his wife scratching their nails down his back were flashing evidently behind his eyes. Once he heard the others trail off to the showers, he turned around to face him. It was only them left in the locker room and he leaned back against his locker, watching Jake pull his jacket on and reach for his bag.

“We’re really lookin’ forward to having you round for dinner tomorrow night.”

Jake’s head perked up at Bob’s words, his signature smile still etched over his face.

“Yeah, me too, Floyd.”

Jake placed his hand on Bob’s shoulder to move past him and leave the locker room, but before he took another step further, he lingered for a moment longer. Jake’s lips brushed up against the shell of Bob’s ear and in a low and flirtatious drawl, he whispered, “Bye, Baby.”

And he left.

Jake didn’t look back and see how Bob was biting down frightfully hard on his bottom lip to hold back the beaming and lovesick smile he was currently adorning. He didn’t see how Bob’s cheeks flushed a rosy pink colour in seconds. All he saw ahead of him was a future of tender love with you and Bob.

taglist: @beachbabey @tallrock35 @luckyladycreator2 @unmistakablyunknown @wkndwlff @flames-thebitch @birdy-bat-writes @thedroneranger @randomfandomgirl96 @kmc1989

tagging those who may be interested: @laracrofted @sunblchdfly @sugarcoated-lame @castiel-barnes @lewmagoo @peachystenbrough @becks-things @bradshawsbitch @rhettabbotts @hangmanapologist @whatislovevavy @withahappyrefrain @sandbarbirdie

[mothdruid]

First Session

synopsis.

your first session at Gym Bloom has come. and the first trainer you get to meet? everyone's favorite and the beloved, Jake S.

pairing.

jake 'hangman' seresin x afab!reader

word count.

4k

warnings.

this is an 18+ work, minors buzz off. smut, protected penetrative sex, vaginal fingering, a sex gym (so maybe paying for sex?), fucking your trainer

author's note.

it's here!! the first gym bloom one-shot! i hope you all love it!

“Wait, so your first session is today?” Steph sounded surprised.

“Yeah,” you pulled a purple sports bra from your dresser, “why?”

“Oh my god, who is your first trainer?”

You rolled your eyes at Steph's eagerness. Ever since getting you to join this gym she has been eager. She wanted to know everything, even though you barely knew yourself. All you knew was that they used sex to workout at this gym. Steph knew that too, she was to one who referred you. Which is how you knew it was safe, referral only. You could only sign up if you got a referral from someone you knew. And from your understanding, not everyone was actually allowed to refer people to sign up. So, you were counting yourself lucky to even be a part of this at all.

“I’m not sure, let me put my bra on and then I’ll look at the email.”

First you tapped your speaker phone on, then wrestled your sports bra on over your head. After checking to make sure that your sports bra and legging combo looked okay, you grabbed your phone. Steph was going on and on about a few different trainers. A Mickey, a Bob, a Nat, and others that you eventually tuned out for now. You went to your starred emails, clicking the one at the very top. You skimmed over the email, eventually finding the name.

“It’s Jake S,” eyeing the rest of the email, confirming the other general information of your session. You squinted as you noticed two lock codes.

“No way! How did you get so lucky?” Steph's tone had you pulling the phone back from you a little farther.

“Steph, calm down.”

“No, you don’t get it. That’s one of Blooms best trainers, a real treat if you ask me, or at least that’s what I’ve heard. I’ve actually never trained with him before.”

Oh?

“Never?” You questioned with a playful tone.

“Never.” Steph sing-songed back to you.

A smirk formed on your face.

“Well, I’ll make sure to update you about it,” you turned your speaker phone off, slipping the phone between your cheek and should as you head to the front door.

“Please do, I will have to know everything about it.”

“Oh, Steph, gross,” you slipped your tennis shoes on, not bothering to untie them first.

“What? I’m a woman, I have needs, and this need just happens to be knowing what Jake’s di-”

“Nope, Nope, I’m hanging up now!” You hung up quickly, not wanting to hear the rest of Steph's words.

After tracking down a baggy zip up hoodie, zipping it up only half way. You found your small side bag, checking to make sure your keys and wallet were in there. After you doubled checked, you grab your keys from your bag and slip your phone in your hoodie pocket. You locked your apartment door then headed down the stairs of your building. The place wasn’t fair from your apartment, maybe a fifteen minute walk on a bad day.

When you got to the building, you double checked the address after not seeing any obvious branding outside. After deciding it was indeed the correct building, you punched in the first code. A delightful chime played, signaling it was the correct code and unlocked. The hallway was short, but you noticed another keypad on the next door. You got another delightful chime after putting in the second code, finally letting you into the gym.

It was a very welcoming space. Bright colors complimented by neutrals to even it all out. There were ellipticals, treadmills, bikes, and many other machines neatly placed throughout the main open area. There were people using the machines, some others were chit chatting happily. There was a section of the gym that had a lot of doors, two closed and three open. You assumed those were the ‘training’ rooms.

“Hello!”

There was a gorgeous woman behind a short counter greeting you. Her skin was tan, dark brown hair pulled into a loose low ponytail. She had a matching pastel pink legging and sports bra set on. Your heart fluttered a little bit when she smiled at you. It was as if an angel was gracing you with their presence.

“Hi,” you awkwardly said.

“Do you have a session today?” She asked.

“Yeah, a two forty-five with Jake S.”

“You must be the new client,” she offered her hand out over the counter, “my name is Natasha. I’m one of the other trainers here.”

“Thank you, I’m glad to meet you,” you shook her hand, trying to match her smile and energy.

“So, I’ll check you in so Jake knows you’re here. For now you can go get a little bit of a warm up on a treadmill or elliptical, whatever you prefer. There are also locker rooms before the Bloom Rooms. Jake will come get you when he is ready.” Natasha smiled, marking something in the computer before looking back up at you.

“Okay, thank you,” you hated how awkward you were being.

“It’s my pleasure,” a sultry tone was laced into her words.

Heat flared in your cheeks. You nodded then turned, briskly walking towards the locker rooms. After entering the female locker room, you quickly placed your bag and hoodie into a locker. You kept your phone in the pocket of your leggings, not wanting to be completely bare without it. You found your way back to a treadmill, starting it up at a low pace. It was maybe five minutes before someone came up next to you, tapping your shoulder to grab your attention.

He looked like a living ken doll. Square jaw, blonde hair, green eyes, and fucking built. If this was the magical Jake S, you now understood what Steph was going on about. His biceps were hard to ignore, every minuscule movement noticeable. The black sleeveless shirt was hugging his torso and abdomen, not leaving anything to the imagination. You stopped your eyes from traveling lower, wanting to leave at least something to the imagination. At least for the time being.

“Nat says you’re my new client.”

A Texan drawl? Could he get anymore intoxicating?

“That’s me,” you hit the stop button, coming to a slow stop.

Jake came around the side to met you when you got off the treadmill. He offered you his hand for the small step down. It was surprising how soft his hand were despite the callous’.

“Let’s get headed to a room, I’ll explain more in there.” Jake said. His hand let go of yours, finding the small of your back as you headed to the room. He directed you into one of the ‘Bloom Rooms’.

The walls were covered in a soft pink color with forest green floral. One wall was an entire mirror, a rail for balance along the entire mirror. There were balance balls, cubes, wedges, a Bosu ball, and many other items along the wall. A nice dresser was along the same wall, a nice vase with flowers sat on top. You watched Jake close the door in the reflection of the mirror.

“So, how does this,” you motioned around the room, “work?”

“Well, I’ll direct you on what to do. Positions, reps, stretches, all the technical stuff.” Jake explained it so plainly, making you wonder if there was a catch.

“What do I do then? Besides listen and get fucked?”

“Oh no, sweetheart. I’m not goin’ to fuck you, you’re goin’ to fuck me.”

A smile was plastered on his face. Heat encapsulated your entire body, every nerve ending on fire from his words. No wonder he was a favorite, especially with this demeanor. You shifted your weight on your feet, crossing your arms before speaking.

“What’s the plan?”

“Well, today is going to be a leg day. You will be riding me in a squat-like position, working your glutes, quads, hamstrings, along with many other muscle groups. Since it’s your first workout here, I won’t make it too intense. But that’ll also depend on how much you can take.”

“How much I can take?” You asked in a surprised tone.

“Yes,” Jake brought a hand to the back of his neck, “everyone is different.” Jake stared at you for a moment, then clapped his hands together and took a few steps forward. “Let’s get started with some stretching.”

Jake strode over towards the wall with many items, retrieving some yoga mats, one for the both of you. You met in the middle of the room, taking the mat from him. You two laid your mats out, leaving a decent space in between them. You watched as Jake toed his shoes off, following suit before sitting on your mat.

“On your back, I’ll help you stretch.”

You nodded, laying on your back and watching Jake move towards you. His green eyes were raking over you, observing all of your movements. Jake had you prop your knees up. The soles of your feet were flat on the mat, Jake’s thumb hooked underneath your knees. His eyes were locked with yours, gaze not wavering.

“Let me know if anything is too much or not okay.”

You nodded.

Jake started to ease your knees towards your chest, folding you in half. You could feel the backs of your thighs and glutes being stretched. Jake’s body was impossibly close to yours already, his crotch was almost pressed to your ass. Heat was radiating from his body, covering yours entirely. Your knees were practically pressed into your chest, cheeks hot, his gaze making you burn.

“Is it okay if I open your legs up?” His grip on the back of your thighs was making it hard to focus.

“I- yeah, that’s okay.”

Jake nodded, hands adjusting to under your knees. His gently eased your legs out, keeping them bent at the knee. You brought a hand up to your mouth, pressing the back of it against your lips. It had become so sensual so quick. His crotch was now unbelievably close to your clothed cunt. All he would have to do is roll his hips and he would be pressing against you.

“I’m goin’ to move one leg up to stretch your calf,” he informed you.

You nodded, relaxing all the muscles in your legs. His right hand moved to the ankle of your left leg, extending it up inch by inch. You could feel all the muscles along the back of your leg stretch. He placed your ankle on his shoulder, keeping your leg propped up. The stretch felt euphoric along the back of your leg. An audible gasp escaped you, catching Jake’s attention.

“Feel good?” His voice had dropped a little this time.

“Yeah,” it almost came out as a whimper.

After a moment with one leg propped up, he switched to your other leg. A thin layer of sweat was already starting to form on you. It was hard to avoid with Jake being this close to you, practically folding you in half with his body. His firm muscles pressing onto your own, his weight barring down on you more and more. Not after long he released both legs, guiding them down on either side of him.

“Let’s get your back next,” he said while moving back to his own mat.

You sat up, following his movements. He got on his hands and knees, pushing his back out then letting it drop into an arch. You mimicked the movements, muscles in your back alternating between taut and loose.

“Nice, right?” Jake looked over at you, a smile on his lips.

“Yeah, never realized what all these motions stretched.” You added.

“Everything stretches something. You’d be surprised at what all sex stretches out,” his smile turned into a cheeky smirk.

“Well,” you hesitated for a moment, “I’m excited I get to find out.”

Jake showed you a few more stretches, legs primarily. Soon the two of you were sat across from each other. You were waiting patiently for what was next to come, a tinge of excitement running through you. Jake leaned back, palms flat on the floor keeping him up right. He had one leg casually stretched out, the other bent close to his body.

“We can start this two different ways. One, we start with a little bit of foreplay and massage work, or two, you take the lead and do whatever you want.”

“What do most people choose?”

Jake gave you this look, one that said ‘really?’. A shrug tugged on your shoulders, not sure why he gave you the look. He let out a noise that sounded like a chuckle mixed with a sigh.

“Are we really gonna play that game?” Jake’s look had a small amount of playful annoyance in his gaze.

“What?” Embarrassment started to creep into you, not sure about the next steps.

Jake’s words weren’t really comforting either. He was nice but there was this bite to him. A playful energy that was hard to read sometimes. You pulled both of your legs closer to you, soles of your feet planted on the floor. Again, you mimicked him.

As you were leaning back onto your palms, Jake was starting to move towards you. He got up on his knees, closing the small space between the two of your mats. It was like watching a cat play with its food. Inch by inch the gap between you closed. Your legs spread open, allowing room for him to move between them. He reached out to your jaw, cupping it while his thumb rubbed a part of your cheek. There was something playful in his green eyes. A smile covered his lips as he leaned in, lips next to your ear.

“This is about you, not anyone else,” the words were hot against your ear lobe.

Without a second thought you grabbed him, hand wrapping around the back of his neck, fingers threading up through his well trimmed hair. Soft lips melded with yours, dancing in synchronicity. A smile formed on his lips as he kissed you, slowly working you down onto your mat. Hands roamed up and down your sides, snaking down to cup your ass. His chest was pressed to yours as his hips started to slowly rock against yours.

“Does this count as a massage?” It was cheeky, but you couldn’t help yourself.

“Full body if you ask me,” Jake nipped at your neck, trailing kisses down your skin.

He pulled back for a moment, hand moving from your ass to your chest. Even though your sports bra was tight, your nipples were starting to become visible through the material. A whimper left you as he started kneading your breast, thumb occasionally coming up to run over your nipple. You arched your back and relaxed, pressing your breast tightly into his hand. You heard a snicker come from Jake.

“What?”

“Most clients aren’t this pliant when they come in.” Jake said, tilting his head as a gesture towards your body.

A moan left you as he rolled your nipple between his thumb and forefinger. A smirk was plastered on his face now. You knew it wasn’t personal, but you took it personally. You hooked a leg around his waist, and put all your weight into it. A huff was all Jake let out as you flipped the two of you. You were straddling his hips now, ass pressing tightly to his crotch.

“That’s better,” Jake quipped, enjoying his view of you on top of him.

Slightly calloused hands traveled your sides, kneading your flesh every now and then. You kept rolling your hips down against his, sighing at the pressure. His dick had started to harden, becoming obvious as it pressed against your ass. As much as you wanted to just fuck, you had to remind yourself of the actual reason you were here.

“So, do I just ride you or..?” It was an honest question.

“Normally, we have a female client get off once prior to a penetrative workout. We like to make sure that they are ready to take whatever the trainer gives them.” Jake raised his eyebrows playfully at the last sentence.

Thumbs hooked into your leggings. You helped him take them off you, removing your underwear in the process too. Jake immediately noticed how wet you were, looking at the wet patch on your panties as he slipped them off you. Those calloused hands pulled you back into his lap, sitting up to meet you. Your hands gripped his shoulders, tugging at the fabric of his workout top. Fingers moved towards your cunt, finding your clit quickly.

It was obvious he did this regularly, knowing almost the exact motions to get you going. The sturdiness of his body kept you up right, his free arm wrapping around your back to keep you close. Wet kisses were littered all over your skin. The fabric of his shirt balled up in your fists. The hot breath on your skin was starting to be overstimulating. It was all so much at once. A hot trainer fingering your while leaving wet trails of saliva on your chest was not what you were completely expecting from today.

Jake changed the motion of his fingers in the slightest, making your body quiver into his. You weren’t sure exactly what he did different, but whatever it was made you feral. Your legs had started shaking, body slumping closer to his. You could feel the curve of his lips, that classic smirk appearing again. Within moments you were coming.

A whine was all you let out. You didn’t even pick up on Jake’s own heavy breathing. The arm around your back tightened, keeping you close to him. He bit back a groan as he felt you quiver against him, his fingers not stopping their motions on your clit. Your hands tugged at his shirt viciously, hips not being able to control themselves. Jake hadn’t expected you to have such an intoxicating effect on him. But he couldn’t get enough, deciding he was in fact going to fuck you himself.

“Jake!”

And with that his fingers were gone.

“Change of plans, I’m gonna fuck you.” Jake pressed a kiss to your cheek.

Jake laid your body down, sitting up for a moment to take his shirt off. You marveled at his body, reaching out to ghost your hand over his abs. He reached in his pocket and grabbed a condom. Your hand trailed down to the top of his shorts and boxers, helping him ease them down. He took them off, haphazardly tossing them somewhere off to the side.

Finally, all the puzzle pieces had snapped into place, showing you the complete picture of why he was one of the most sought after trainers. His cock was fucking gorgeous, just like the rest of him. His dick was already making your cunt yearn, wanting to feel the stretch it was going to give you. He tore the condom packet and rolled it down his length. Even though you knew it was what needed to be done, a part of you wished he could fuck you raw.

Jake’s hands grabbed your legs, placing your ankles on his shoulders, then slowly easing them out. His hands were lightly holding the outside of your thighs, holding them in a wide V shape. The head of his cock prodded your entrance, your cunt clenched with anticipation. A breathy moan left you when he pressed into you. The stretch was everything you were hoping it’d be, maybe even a little bit more.

“You feel better than I anticipated,” Jake’s words were breathy, chest rising and falling with each breath.

All you did was clench around him, watching as he closed his eyes tightly. You felt him pull out, only to push back in with a groan. A moan fell from you as he repeated the action. He found a decent rhythm, nailing into you while keeping your legs in the wide V. Your hands fumbled around your body, grabbing at your sports bra clad chest. The tight material bunched under your grasp. Your finger started to slip under the top of your sports bra, pulling it down to show your tits to Jake.

“Hold your legs still,” Jake commanded.

“Yes sir,” your words slurred with pleasure already.

Jake groaned at the name. His hands moved from your legs and up your body. Calloused hands removed yours then tugged on your sports bra. The material became tight against your skin, straps digging in until they started rolling off your shoulders. Your sports bra was holding your arms next to your body, leaving you restricted. Jake’s hands engulfed your tits as he fucked into you. You planted your hands next to your hips, pushing your tits out for Jake.

The backs and insides of your thighs were starting to burn. Jake’s thrusts were starting to make holding them up hard. Each thrust felt more powerful than the last. Once he found that sensitive spot inside of you, you whined. You tried to close your legs, both of them burning from the position you had held them in. Jake’s hands left your chest, grabbing your legs and forcing them back out into the wide V position.

“Legs out.” Jake commanded.

You hesitantly put your legs back out, holding them in place as they started to shake. With every thrust you felt a surge of pleasure. There was a burning that started to develop in your abdomen, a mixture of pleasure and tightness. You knew that a majority of the burning was because of the ‘workout’ aspect of this situation. Your legs were on fire, all while your nerves were starting to sear themselves with pleasure.

“That’s it, I know you can feel it,” Jake said, wide grin on his face.

One of his hands moved down between your legs, thumb circling your clit. Within the matter of seconds you were coming again, cunt clenched tightly around Jake. Your legs were starting to shake uncontrollably, your body becoming way too sensitive to the pleasure. Jake grabbed your legs quickly, wrapping them around his hips now as he fucked into you. He only lasted a few more thrusts before coming, filling the condom while inside of you.

Heavy breathing filled the room, both of you trying to catch your breath. Jake placed an forearm by your head, balancing himself as he looked at you. There was something soft in his eyes. He reached down and ran his thumb over your cheek. His thumb traveled further, down your neck and eventually his hand cascaded down your neck and chest. His hand stopped over your left tit. Your heart was hammering against your rib cage, Jake feeling it flutter in your chest.

Jake kissed your forehead as he pulled out. A moan leaving you at the sensation, now feeling empty inside. Your legs felt like jello, falling down from around his waist. Jake retracted from your body, stood up and moved towards the trash can in the room. You slowly and awkwardly pulled the straps of your bra up, adjusted them and sat up the best you could. Jake threw the condom away then headed back towards you.

“You good?” Jake asked.

“Yeah,” you grabbed your underwear and leggings.

The both of you got dressed before talking again.

“Sorry, about the change up for the session.” Jake slipped his shirt over his head.

“So, you’re telling me you don’t do that with all of your clients?” You joked, chuckling a little.

Jake smirked, shaking his head no.

“No, only the special clients get that treatment,” Jake held a hand out to you.

“Special? After our first session?” You accepted his hand, standing up with his assistance.

All Jake did was nod, not knowing exactly what to say. The two of you stared at each other for a moment. That soft look in his eyes had spread to the rest of his face. You gave him the same look, understanding that there was just now this unspoken thing between the two of you.

“There’s just something about you,” Jake finally said, “and I hope that the other trainers here get to experience it.”

A heat built up in you from the compliment. It was one of the most special compliments you had ever received.

“Until next time?” God, you were hoping there would be a next time.

Jake nodded with a smile.

“Until next time.”

[batmanschmatman]

It’s interesting to me to see how many people have been saying they feel like [character’s] death was too sudden or too early, and while I agree from a writing standpoint we didn’t exactly have a lot of time with him and they COULD have framed the show differently to give us more, I also think it’s sort of The Point that his death is sudden and kind of out of nowhere.

The air war was incredibly fucking brutal. I’m not saying it was more or less so than what the BOB or TP guys went through because they’re all awful, but it’s a well accepted part of the WWII experience that anything to do with flying planes might have seemed glamorous and cool but was actually terrifying and had a sort of uniquely horrible flavor to it when it came to facing the death of your friends.

(And this isn’t even getting into the stuff happening on the ground when cities became viable targets, but that’s for a different post.)

When Hoobler dies, the guys are there, they see it happen, they can try to help him, and then they know after a point that he’s dying. They can sit with the body afterward and take his stuff to send back to his family. Even in the more fast paced deaths like Rob Oswalt, Sledge and the others can look at his body and have a moment - however brief! - to say goodbye. There’s often no mystery of what happened, you’ve seen the wounds and know they’re dead. And you also HAVE to push it down because you’re being shot at and need to keep yourself alive.��

All of that is real important in the grief/mourning process. Guys in the 100th usually didn’t have that unless someone on your bomber died. You’d go up with your friends, you’d see their planes get hit, there’s nothing you can do besides watch for chutes and hope they survive to be taken prisoner. And then you come back, and your friends are gone, there’s no body to bury or sit with or touch. Their stuff is all still in the barracks like nothing happened. Sometimes you’re not even immediately sure if they are dead or not! You don’t know who those chutes belonged to, or if they made it safely to the ground instead of dying on impact or immediately being caught by the Germans and executed. But your friends are gone and you were powerless to do anything to help them.

And then you get to do it all over again knowing it’s going to happen to other friends or to you and there’s basically nothing you can do about it. How do you cope with that? What does it do to you to feel like your friends just literally vanished into thin air even though the last time you saw them, they were healthy and young and alive? And then new guys replace them, and you have to decide if you want to make friends with them or close yourself off, because these guys are going to die too.

(Oh, and if a member of your crew got badly wounded? You could have HOURS before you got back to base, and you have some first aid training but you’re not a surgeon, you don’t have plasma or whole blood to give a guy to help keep him alive until you make it back. So another horrible traumatic thing you get to deal with. Wounds that could’ve been treatable if you’d been at Carentan or Guadalcanal could be fatal.) 

I’m not saying this show is a masterpiece in storytelling by any means, but… You’re supposed to feel shocked and angry and robbed of the chance to get to know these guys? Because that’s literally how their friends felt. It’s a point Miller makes a lot in the book, and a really vital part to understanding why being in the AAF (or other air forces) was such a meat grinder physically and psychologically for these guys. 

[thr0wnawayy]

Who would the 10-13 1A members that died in the MLA be, if MHA had any actual stakes? I really liked your Kaminari idea, so I just wanted to explore it with you. It would have realistically made UA/the heroes look a hell of a lot worse and the villains look a hell of a lot smarter if they went for the angle of "the best heroics school in Japan is using child soldiers!"

I know for the heroes, it should have been Pixie Bob and Gran Torino in addition to Crust. Endeavor also should have died because it would have actually given the story actual stakes - Japan is now in shambles and the new #1 hero/heavy hitter is dead. Oh shit, what are they going to do?

Firstly I feel I should clarify that both 1A and B would lose some team members as both classes were thrust into war with basically no real training. Although for the sake of plot 1A would lose vastly more.

With that stated, let us begin.

I know for a fact that Koda is dead.

Truthfully, there is no way someone as bulky as him (with the addition of his poorly designed costume) would be even marginally capable of outrunning Shigaraki's Decay.

His quirk (Anivoice) gives him zero advantages and being in Jaku (a city under evacuation) would only add to this.

We also mustn't forget that the rubble by itself was also capable of disintegrating anything it touched. Putting all that together and given how close he was to "ground zero", his chances of survival are slim to none.

Additionally, everyone who found Midnight's corpse is either dead or brutally injured.

Midnight's body is isolated in a decently foliage heavy area, with plenty of hiding spots and vantage points making it all too easy to set an ambush.

Our merry band of MLA/PLF mercenaries simply have to bide their time, wait for the shock and horror to settle in and then strike.

Sero, Kirishima and Setsuna are easy targets (with Setsuna being the farthest from the bait) their backs are turned and mentally are either distant or "vacant".

If Momo didn't recover from her grief and get off the floor, it's game over.

However. She would likely manage to fend them off long enough to escape (thanks to her intelligence and dexterity), although not without some scars. (eyepatch momo, anyone?)

Mina might be able to hold them off due to her acid but will eventually falter because (as you mentioned) Aizawa's a shitheel.

That brings us up to 5 students so far (if we include Kaminari's death) that have died due to UA's (and the HPSC's) crippling negligence.

I'm a tad hesitant to add Tsu here but it's unlikely she'd survive. (even if she does survive the wave, she'd likely die in the crossfire)

Comicman, because yeah he's unimportant.

For the Villa Raid team it's important that we cut some heroes in order for this scenario to work.

Edgeshot is dead, likely fried to death by Electro-lite.

This would cause the raiding heroes to become discouraged and overwhelmed.

the MLA's gear is more than a match and combined with their years of fighting and tactical prowess. It's not even close.

Simply put; divide and conquer.

Mineta's dying for sure. His costume restricts his (torso and leg) movements and makes him standout like a traffic cone. That guy with holes all over his body is likely the one to snuff him out.

Ojiro is dead the moment the MLA members use numbers to overwhelm him, no amount of martial arts will save you from getting jumped.

Mines dies because his quirk (Twin Impact) suffers from the Flect Fallacy.(Overwhelming the quirk will break it). So pretty much any MLA member could be the one to kill him

That sets the score to 11 total student deaths (8 for 1A, 3 for 1B), not a good look.

We know the rest, Dabi kills Enji for good.

Skeptic publishes a video along with Dabi's exposé that reveals UA is using child soldiers and that the HPSC forged paperwork to allow this.

And the crowd goes wild!

The reactions would be brutal, national if not global criticism from every angle.

The entire raid and evacuation effort would be considered an immense failure, the villains remain at large to gather their numbers and most civilians would be left homeless and displaced.

The hero that everybody placed their bets on turned out be a child/wife beating eugenicist who bought (and later assaulted) his wife when she was only 17. Only to be killed off by the very child he left to burn.

The (global) outrage partially stems from the fact that if it weren't for Dabi, no one would have known otherwise .

The number 2 hero is an (attempted) murderer and seems almost irritated at Enji being outed, the world stage takes this the wrong way and opts not to aid Japan.* What pisses them off the most is his uncaring attitude.

Considering them a lost cause when Shigaraki not only breaks everyone out of Tartarus but also manges to kill AFO by sheer force of will (and wanting to see his friends live as they please)

Rei's speech/conference serves as the final nail. Going into immense detail of the pain she and her children suffered at the hands of Enji. (If their were any doubts Touya was her son, they were killed here)

When asked if anyone knew, she finishes her speech off with revealing that some heroes and staff knew about the abuse and chose to look the other way. Causing the room to burst into an uproar.

*(explaining why Japan was allowed to fester for as long as it did without intervention, something Hori failed to explain)

Parents begin pulling out their children in droves, not wanting to risk their kids getting drafted, others quit by choice.

Shiketsu and Ketsubutsu don't put their students on the front lines (they aren't stupid). The commission is unable to force them due to their, "unique" situation.

The heroes that quit are harshly criticized by the public and media (and usually fairly too), pointing out how shitty it looks (and is) for heroes to suddenly abandon them as soon as things get serious.

Class 1A is left to pickup the pieces with 8 classmates killed (+ Bakugo) the events of the last week have shocked them to their cores but perhaps there is hope.

Of course they're left to pick up their predecessors mistakes, again.

Midoriya would still go rouge, albiet he would stick to his principals. He's made a disturbing connection between Bakugo and Endeavor and it haunts him.

(I should add that Bakugo's death is portrayed for the selfish play it was)

Midoriya likely driven by the need to ensure that he doesn't lose anyone else. His anger at AM would probably stem from the fact that he is putting himself in danger for someone as "expendable" as himself.

I could see the two having a heart to heart that Midoriya is more than his quirk once he willingly returns.

Some additional information:

Bakugo dies permanently, because Edgeshot was killed by "Electro" earlier (even then I'm not doing the writing atrocity that is the "Jeart".)

For heroes I'd like to add Jeanist to the roster. Gigantomachia should have swatted him and his airship like a fly. This means the top 3 are dead, adding to the chaos. This also prevents the old-gen from taking up space.

The High-End Nomu beat the tar out of Miriko, leaving crippled at best and a paraplegic at worst. (That is assuming they don't kill her).

Fourth Kind is killed when, like Ojiro, he is overwhelmed.

Your absolutely correct, Gran Torino and Pixiebob are eliminated, joining Crust.

Twice actually lives, though I would keep that ambiguous until later, he wouldn't get out unscathed of course and would probably need to be put into a coma while his injuries heal.

Himiko's revenge plot now has additional stakes as she promises Twice that she will return to him. (before he's medically put under)

This also fuels the PLF + Spinner, vowing to do right by their ally and friend.

Dabi would have disfigured Hawks upon discovery of his attempt on Twice's life, no more cosmetic scars. Just good old fashioned brutality.

(The fear of losing Twice may have dug up the past memory of losing his mother after Enji drove her to the brink. As Dabi cares deeply for both [even if he won't admit it] ontop of the fact that it's a "hero" that's trying to take them and he betrayed them).

Overall this world is going to be one wild ride with a very different ending to what Hori gave us.

It is a story not of heroes and villains, but of ideals and goals. It asks the question:

What is it to save?

A few additional notes:

Momo would likely have a revenge arc as a sort of parallel between Izuku and Himiko. However it wouldn't be as bland as what we got in canon with Mina.

The mercenaries aren't mustache twirling supremacists, no. Here they're cold, calculated soldiers who are strictly tactical. Midnight was "nothing personal, just business" to them.

They serve as a dark mirror to Momo's shift in personality during the war, as Momo reverts to her initial cold confidant personality and kicks it up to 20 as she hunts them down.

Midnight's killer even points out midbattle on how Momo was sexualized and she doesn't even know it. Telling her at one point: "You may see them as an equal, they see you as a display"

The battle isnt treated as a victory either, while the Momo and her squadron win, the gravity of the situation isn't ignored and Momo actually listens to her opponent's critique.

[basilpaste]

osis!swap. because i was thinking about lock.

(Under the tree is…)

(You're not sure what you're looking at, actually. It looks like a bunch of inanimate objects piled together.)

(It has a face. Or at least it has a mouth. The thing grimaces when you see it.)

〘"Hi."〙

(It talks! It can speak!)

("… Hi." You say back.)

〘"Welcome to your rebirth! This is your first loop!" Its porcelain darkless hands come up into the most pathetic jazz-hands you've ever seen.〙

(WH. HUH???? HOW DID THIS THING KNOW ABOUT-)

〘"Sorry!" It yelps, waving its hands nervously, "That's probably a spooky thing to hear from something you just met!"〙

(You sputter. "H-how do you know about how I-" You can't finish that.)

(It seems thoughtful for a moment. Looking at this stranger now, you notice that its head is almost shaped like a planet. There's a ring that wraps around it where its eyes would be.)

〘"How do I know you died?" It finishes for you.〙

(… You nod.)

〘"I saw it." It says quietly, regretfully, "It's my job to watch over you."〙

(Is this some sort of agent of the Universe? That doesn't make sense, though. A higher being watching over a person is… that's weird. Not how the Universe works. You think.)

("Why?")

〘"… You're looping through time. I'm here to act as a guide to you, Siffrin."〙

(You freeze. "HOW DO YOU KNOW MY NAME?")

〘"Er." It looks away, head bobbing slightly, "I know things about the loops, but I also know things about you. Like your name, your parties names, and other important things. Like… pronouns."〙

(You're not entirely sure if you'd put pronouns on the top of important things for a celestial body to know??? Also you're kind of freaking out.)

(Instead of freaking out more you find your voice. "Do you. Have pronouns?")

(… Good question, Siffrin. Great going.)

〘It laughs, bright and warm despite how quiet it seems. "Hah! Yeah. Yes, I have pronouns."〙

(…)

〘"It/its. If you don't mind." It sighs. "Like I said: I'm your guide. A something. Think of me as... a tool. A, uh, resource to use!"〙

(Well... at least if you know this one's pronouns, you can think about how out of place it seems. Like a swing taking a role it doesn't know. You nod.)

〘"Oh! Right, um. There's a lot of information that I'm gonna throw at you in a second!" It gestures at the space under the branches of the tree, "You might want to sit down?"〙

(That's. Probably a good idea? Your legs are shaky and your heart is racing so you should probably sit that might help.)

〘"Woah, buddy!" It exclaims, "Take a breath?"〙

(Hah! Yeah, yeah, you should do that! You were just thinking about the fact that your heart was racing. You should breathe. That might help! Probably!!!)

(In)

(And out.)

〘"Pheeeeeeeew." It breathes with you.〙

(... It kind of reminds you of someone. The way it holds itself.)

〘"So... the loops, huh?"〙

(You nod. "The loops.")

〘"Every time you die, you'll loop back in time. Like... what just happened. Until you break the loop."〙

(You squint at it, "Can't you just tell me how to do that?"

〘"Er..." It looks away from you, "No? I'm a resource, not an answer key. I'm here to help, but I don't really have all the answers. Sorry."〙

(Oh... thats disappointing. You guess you'll have to figure that part out on your own then??? The actual important part? Which is not being trapped in a death loop forever?)

(... Actually.)

(It's not all bad, is it? Being back means you have a chance to try again! To do better next time!!! You won't die like an idiot this time! You'll make your way to the King and then break the loops! No problem!)

〘"So I can't tell what you're thinking but I can sort of guess and I probably wouldn't think about things like that? If I were you? And obviously I'm not you, but I just wanted to, uh, give you that little nugget of wisdom."〙

(!!!)

(Weird! You're not sure how to read this guy at all! This guy... hm)

("Do you have a name?" You ask it.)

〘"... Do I need one?" It replies, tilting its body to the side. Its head follows a beat later.〙

(You think about your own name.)

("I can't just call you nothing, can I?")

〘"You can call me whatever you want! Your guide, your resource, cr-stars! You can even just call me annoying, haha!"〙

(It's weird, for sure, but you don't know if you'd call it annoying? Maybe it is, but you don't really have a super strong opinion yet? You can't tell if you like or hate this guy yet.)

(You shrug, "I guess? But give me something to call you. So I won't forget.")

(It hugs itself, mouth pressing into a thin line. Oh, stars. Did you already make it mad at you?)

〘"... You can call me Lock." It tells you finally, "Your tool for breaking the loops, Lock. Ironic, huh?"〙

[munson-blurbs]

@corrodedcoffinfest Day 9: The Hideout

Word Count: 715/Rating: T/Pairing: none/CW: hurt/some comfort, canon compliant, drinking, grief, mention of Eddie's death/Tags: Wayne Munson, Eddie Munson, Jeff, Grant, Gareth, The Hideout

Divider credit to @silkholland

“Can I get something for ya, Mr. Munson?”

Wayne didn’t even notice the bartender approach him and lean his elbows on the counter. He shook his head before remembering that if he didn’t order something, they’d probably give him the boot. 

“Whatever’s on tap.”

The bartender nodded and left to fill a cloudy glass with a beer that was bound to be half-foam. 

Wayne took in his surroundings while he waited. The Hideout looked exactly how he remembered it, despite the promised renovations after the earthquake hit. The countertop was still sticky with a mysterious residue, the air still smelled like old frying oil, and the sound emanating from the speakers was more garbled crackling than music. 

There was an obvious difference; acknowledging it made Wayne sick to his stomach. It was a reality he had to face every moment of every day.

His eyes instinctively landed on the makeshift stage buried in the corner of the bar. Every Tuesday night, just like tonight, his nephew and his bandmates would ascend the single step and put on a show for the drunkards barely hanging onto consciousness. Despite their less-than-enthused audience, Corroded Coffin performed like it was a sold-out world tour.

Wayne couldn’t make it to every show, but he’d take a night off every few months and make sure to swing by and catch the boys in action. The very first time he saw Corroded Coffin play at The Hideout, he was astounded by the sheer happiness on Eddie’s face. In Wayne’s opinion, it was even more incredible than the sight of his ringed fingers flying over the frets. That smile never faltered, even if the crowd jeered.

The bartender slid the glass in front of Wayne, meeting his gaze. “We miss him around here,” he says quietly. “He was a good kid.”

Tears misted over Wayne’s eyes, and he blinked them away before any could trickle down his stubble-coated cheeks. “No, he wasn’t. He was a pain in your ass.” He huffed out as much of a laugh as he could muster.

“Yeah, but he was a pain in my ass with a good heart.”

Wayne nodded. He sipped his beer silently, letting the liquid fizz out on his tongue before swallowing. He wasn’t sure why he’d stopped by; it felt like a special sort of torture. Everything about The Hideout reminded him of Eddie. Eddie, who should have been there tonight, warming up and tuning the guitar he cherished like it was his child. Getting ready to play ear-splitting music for the residents of a town who never appreciated him.

“Mr. Munson?”

Wayne looked up, expecting to see the bartender, but the voice came from someone beside him. Jeff was giving him a small smile, concern evident in his eyes. Gareth and Grant stood behind Jeff and wore equally worried expressions.

“Boys.” Wayne gave a quick bob of his head. “You playing tonight?”

Gareth shook his head, his curls bouncing. “Nah. We haven’t played since…” He trailed off, but Wayne could fill in the blanks.

Since the earthquake.

Since the bar reopened.

Since Eddie died.

“We still come here every Tuesday and have a drink in his honor,” Grant said. “It’s…weird without him, but it feels like what he would want us to do. Stick together and all that.”

“Yeah.” It was all Wayne managed. 

Jeff bit the inside of his cheek. He glances at the two other young men, who nod in the silent agreement that only comes from long-standing friendship. “Can we sit with you?”

“Oh.” Wayne blinked in surprise. “You sure you wanna hang out with a sad-sack old man like me?”

In response, the boys pulled their stools closer.

“Eddie…” Gareth started, “Eddie loved when you came to our shows. It meant a lot to him, especially because we don’t exactly play music you like.”

Wayne chuckled. “Yeah, well, I’m more of a Johnny Cash kinda guy.” He took a large gulp of his beer. “But I wish I could hear Ed play one more time.”

“Us, too.” Grant sucked his teeth. “Do you…do you wanna talk about him?”

Wayne’s answer felt like an exhale, a release of the pain and anguish he’d been keeping inside since the Henderson boy delivered the news of Eddie’s fate.

“Yeah. I do.”

--

[gh0stsp1d3r]

Right after bob’s death, stevo stays at your place because staying at his was too much. Basically just the reader loving on stevo is all. Their relationship doesn’t really matter as long as its clear that they are soulmates in some capacity. I think stevo just needs to let himself be loved. Grief and depression is horrible to go through alone so its great to have someone who gets it with you as you heal you know?

𝒪𝓃𝓁𝓎 𝓎ℴ𝓊

A/n: This was kinda hard to write, but I definitely needed to

Taglist: @abriefnirvana

Warnings: death, angst to fluff, grief

He wiped the tears away as he got into his car, he breathed a shaky breath as he looked at himself in the car mirror. He was disheveled, with a tangled mop of hair and wrinkled clothes.

Stevo's mind raced with thoughts of where to spend the night. And then it hit him - you were the only other person he wanted to be with right now. You would know what to do now.

Without a second thought, he stepped on the gas pedal and raced towards you as fast as his old car could go.

As he rushed towards your apartment, no matter how hard he tried to stop them, the tears streamed down his cheeks while Bad Religion blared on the radio.

He found himself thinking about Bob. Was he a bad friend for leaving him like that? He felt horrible, but he wasn’t sure about what else to do.

The image stayed in his mind, almost causing a crash as his thoughts raced, his hands acting faster than his head.

Finally, after what felt like the longest drive in history, he reached your place. He looked at a bottle of beer on the side of his door, drinking it as if he was a college kid who had just been dared to. He would need it tonight. Then he laid his eyes on someone outside.

As you were taking out the trash, you saw a small baby cat nearby and smiled. You knelt, and the cat shyly approached you. It rubbed against your leg as you looked into its curious eyes and pet it with care.

He stumbled out of his car door, the sound making you turn your head and the cat also turn its head to him.

“Stevo?” you mumbled to yourself. You recognized the blue hair quickly, and he looked at you. He was…crying?

"Stevo," you said, as you dropped your trash on the floor and hurried towards him. He was crying uncontrollably, and when he saw you, he wrapped his arms around you. You were taken aback by the sudden embrace, but you rubbed his back to give him some sort of comfort. "Oh, Stevo," you whispered softly.

He cried, tears staining your shirt as he buried his head in your shoulder. People came outside when they heard the cries.

“You're the only one I have left.” he cried into your shoulder.

“C’mon, let's go inside, okay?” you weren't sure what had happened, but it made your heart break.

You had been lifelong friends since middle school and stuck together like glue. Despite your longstanding feelings for him, you never told him how you felt in fear of him not having the same feelings.

He thought you were too sweet to him, too nice in this cruel, unjust world.

The little cat watched as you both walked up the stairs. Stevo looked back at its copper eyes and black fur, following his moves like a lucky cat in a store.

You led him inside, his sobs became more quiet and slowed down as he rubbed his eyes with his hand and sat down on a chair at your table. He felt like a loser, a poser. But you were one of the only people he knew wouldn’t judge him.

You shut the door and turned to him. It was silent for a moment while you both stared at each other.

“What happened?” you asked softly, making your way to the chair next to him.

He looked down at the ground while he explained what happened this morning. Bob had died of an overdose, your eyes widened as you listened and looked at him with sadness.

“I’m.. so sorry. Steven.. that’s horrible.” You said once he finished.

Steven. You hadn’t used his real name in ages.

He didn’t know how to respond, he simply just looked down.

“Uhm… you want me to call for you? So you don’t have to? I can tell them what happened so he can get buried, and everything else…”

He looked up now. “You’d do that?”

You nodded and smiled at him.

"Stevo, I am here for you, whether you need anything or want to talk. I’m here for you.”

“Thank you.” he mumbled, feeling himself about to cry again.

You went over to him, he stood up and hugged you again, when you both pulled away you smiled softly and wiped his tears away.

"You can stay for as long as you need, okay?" you spoke softly.

You led him into your room, telling him to chill in there for a second while you called the police. They said they had to question you, but you did not mention Stevo at all, so as long as he didn’t have to, you were fine with it.

You hung up and sighed, rubbing your forehead. You felt horrible for Stevo, who had to see his best friend and roommates dead body in front of him, crying for him.

You entered the room for and climbed into the bed beside him. He gazed at you with red, tired eyes, and wrapped his arms around your body. You reciprocated the gesture, holding him close and not wanting to let go, playing with his hair as he rested his head on your chest.

You kissed the top of his head, and in any situation, he would've questioned the action. But right now it was just what he needed.

He fell asleep quickly in your arms, his eyes heavy. You wished it happened under better circumstances.

[illdowhatiwantthanks]

You're Safe Now

Casey Novak x autistic fem!reader Warnings: Hurt/comfort, discussions of past child sexual abuse and child pornography, PTSD, flashbacks, panic attacks, brief and mild self-harm Word Count: 1,799 NOTE: Child sexual abuse/assault is a deeply triggering subject for many people. If you're one of them, please proceed with caution. As a victim myself, I know that, oftentimes, I find great comfort in reading stories that include narratives like mine, especially when they make me feel seen and heard and cared for. At other times, they are terrible for my mental health. Please just be mindful of your mental state as you read, especially if you are a victim. And if you need help, please reach out to the National Sexual Assault Hotline (1-800-656-4673).

Casey looked over Stabler's shoulder as he scrolled through grainy photo after photo. Stills from hundreds of pornographic VHS tapes, all of abused children. "Any of them prosecutable?" Stabler shook his head. "Nah, not on abuse charges. These are all 25 years old. The Feds just want us to look and see if we can make any connections."

"All the same ring?" "Yep. A Baptist church, if you can believe it. Somewhere in Tennessee. Apparently the ringleader moved to the city about 10 years ago. They just nailed him last month." Casey looked disgusted. "I absolutely can believe it was a church. They're like breeding grounds for pedophiles. No offense." Stabler gritted his teeth. "Sunday school teachers. What an introduction to God." They watched the nameless faces scroll past in silence. So many kids, so much hurt. A child flashed past the screen–a little girl with glasses–and Casey blinked. "Stop," she said. Stabler stilled his scrolling and glanced back at the ADA, curious. "Go back." He dutifully scrolled back up the page until Casey stopped him again. She stared at the pixelated photo, sick to her stomach. A little white shirt, a Ramona Quimby-style bob, multicolored glasses. And the cutest nose–your nose. It wasn't you. Surely, it couldn't be you. You would have told her. But the child in the picture looked so much like you. And you had grown up in Tennessee. Going to a Baptist church. Casey cleared her throat, trying to disguise the shakiness in her voice. "Can you print that photo for me?" Stabler looked long and hard at Casey. "Yeah, why?" "Just print it. Please." Stabler handed Casey the printed photo, and she snatched it, folding it tightly and placing it in her pocket. "Thanks," she said, walking swiftly away with her fists clenched. Stabler watched her go, concerned. He made a mental note to mention it to Olivia. _____________________________________________________________ When Casey came through the door that night, you were curled up on the couch watching Parks & Recreation. "Bye, Bye, Little Sebastian" played in the background and you sang along absentmindedly, typing on your laptop. "Hey, love," you called. "I didn't feel like cooking. Want to order a pizza?" Casey set down her briefcase and walked slowly to you, heart pounding in her chest. She sat across from you and paused the show. You looked at her and frowned. She looked terrified. You had never seen her look so scared. You threw your laptop aside and took her hand. "Hey, what's wrong?" you asked. "You look like someone died." Your eyes grew wide. "Did someone die?" Casey took a shaky breath. "Sweetheart, I need to ask you something." Now, you were scared, too. What could Casey possibly need to ask you that made her this anxious? "Okay," you replied, your voice quiet. She took one of your hands in hers and traced circles on it. After an excruciating few minutes, she asked, "Did anything happen to you when you were a kid?" Your stomach dropped and you felt ice flood your veins. There was no way she could know. Nobody knew. "W-what do you mean?" "Were you..." Casey started, clearing her throat. "Were you... abused at all?" You felt panic rising in your chest, your throat constricting as it became harder and harder to take a breath. "Why are you asking me that?" you cried, your voice growing frantic. "Casey, why are you asking me that!?"

Tears threatened the corners of your eyes, and your body started rocking back and forth. You felt like you were suffocating. Casey held onto your hand even tighter, her own eyes glistening, as she pulled the folded paper from her pocket and handed it to you. Your hands shook as you opened it, and when you saw yourself on that page, everything inside you shattered all at once. "No, no, no, no, no!" you cried, grabbing your head in your hands and rocking more and more aggressively. All of a sudden you couldn't breathe. Just like you couldn't breathe in that Sunday school room. Just like you couldn't breathe with in front of that camera with the red blinking light. And the hands. So many hands touching you, all over you. You coughed and retched, wrapping your arms around yourself. Your pupils darted back and forth, overtaking the rest of your eyes. And somehow you were back there, back in that room. The black carpet with the rainbow flecks. The smell of stale hymnals and men's sweat. The taste of the wintergreen mints they shoved in your mouth when they sent you back to your unwitting parents, masking the scent of vomit. You clenched your fists over your ears and slammed them into your head, grabbing your hair and pulling so hard a tuft came out.

Casey jumped up and grabbed your hands, trying to keep them away from your head. "Honey, don't do that," she pleaded, her voice breaking. "Please don't do that. I'm right here." She tried to wrap her arms around you, but you shoved her away. "Don't touch me!" You heard yourself screaming, as if from far away, as if you were sitting in the rafters of the Sunday school room, but no one could hear you. "No! Please, it hurts!" Tears streamed down your flaming face as you rocked back and forth, hyperventilating, tucked into the corner of the couch. You were as far away from Casey as you could get. Casey had dealt with a lot of victims. She'd been emotionally invested in a lot of victims. She cared deeply for and fought for so many victims. But you. You were hers. She felt like her heart was being physically ripped apart as she looked at your tiny, terrified form. In that moment, you were a mirror image of the scared little girl in the VHS still. Casey wiped her own tears away, trying to stay strong because you needed someone strong right now. God, she wanted to hold you. She wanted to scoop you up and protect you and tell you that it was okay, that she loved you, that she would never let anyone touch you again. But you wouldn't even let her close. "I'll be right back, sweetheart," Casey said, biting her lip as she looked at you, then jogging to the kitchen. It seemed like you couldn't even hear her. She thought you were having a flashback, but she didn't know how to help you out of it. She dialed Olivia's number and prayed to whatever powers there were in the universe that Olivia would pick up. "Benson."

"Oh, thank god," Casey exhaled.

"Casey? What's going on?"

"Do you know how to get someone out of a flashback?"

Olivia's voice deepened in concern. "Is this about that photo you got from Elliot?"

Casey paced back and forth, rubbing her forehead. "Yes. I don't have time to talk about it now. Do you know how to help with a flashback? Please."

"Uh..." Olivia started, clearly trying to provide information and make sure that Casey was okay. "Usually they need to be reminded of what's real and what's not."

"How?" Casey asked, trying to hide the desperation in her voice.

"Try engaging their senses. Something to shock them out of it. Ice, maybe. Or something with a strong smell."

"Okay, I got it," Casey said, sprinting to the bathroom.

"Casey, are you sure you're okay?"

"I'll talk to you about it later, Olivia," Casey barked, more terse than she meant to be. "Gotta go."

Casey rummaged in the vanity, looking for a specific bottle of perfume. She gripped it tightly in her hand and ran back to the kitchen, grabbing a bag of frozen green beans out of the freezer.

Casey took a deep breath before returning to your corner of the couch, where you sat curled and shaking and sobbing. She reached out to hold your hand, then stopped herself, instead grabbing the bottle of perfume and spraying it around you.

"Hey," she said, tentatively. "Honey, I don't know if you can hear me, but I'm here."

Your body shook uncontrollably, your eyes clamped shut.

"I'm gonna put this ice on you," Casey said. She wasn't sure you could hear her, but she wanted even your subconscious to know that she was there and doing everything she could to help you. She dropped the bag of green beans in your lap and you gasped, your head shooting up. You looked around frantically, and Casey grabbed at the chance to pull you out of the flashback. "Hey," she called. "Y/N, can you hear me?" You seemed to look both at her and past her at the same time. "Do you feel the cold? Honey, that's real. Can you smell my perfume? It's the one you like so much, the one that smells like pine trees. It's real."

You were confused, disoriented, but your frantic breathing was slowing down, and Casey took that as a sign it was working. "I'm right here, sweetheart, okay?" Her voice broke. She was dying to hold you, but she still wasn't sure you'd let her, and she didn't want to make it worse. "I'm right here with you. I love you, and I'm real. We're in our apartment, and that's real. Those men who hurt you, they're not real anymore." You kneaded the bag of green beans in your hands, still rocking, but less aggressively. Your vision was coming back into focus, the overlap of past and present becoming less confusing and overwhelming. You were finally able to look at Casey and see her. You looked into her eyes and a rush of shame poured over you. She looked terrified. Her face was streaked with tears. You didn't know if she was scared of you or scared for you, but either way you felt sick to have scared her.

Your face screwed up in tears and you looked away, burying your head in your hands. "I'm sorry, Casey," you cried. "I'm so sorry."

She surged toward you, her hands stopping inches short of your skin. "It's okay, Y/N, it's okay. I'm right here. Can I touch you?"

You nodded, but you still couldn't bring yourself to look at her.

Casey scooped you into her lap like a child, wrapping her arms protectively around you and cradling your head next to hers.

"I'm sorry, Casey," you said again and again, anxiety and panic and exhaustion giving way to pure shame as you grasped her shirt and wept. "I'm sorry."

Casey had tried. She had tried to hold it together for you, but seeing you so broken, hearing you apologize to her for this horrific thing that had happened to you–it broke her, too. Her tears came all at once. "You don't need to be sorry, honey," she told you, pressing her forehead to yours, your tears mingling. "You didn't do anything wrong. I'm sorry. I'm sorry it happened. I'm sorry I wasn't there to protect you."

You let out a shaky laugh, wiping snot from your nose. "You're like three years older than me."

She kissed the side of your head over and over, smoothing your wrecked hair and holding you as tight as she could. "You're safe now, Y/N," she said, for both of you, like a mantra. "I will always keep you safe. I won't let anyone hurt you ever again."

You buried your head under Casey's, making yourself small.

She rubbed your back, breathing slowly and rhythmically. You didn't notice, but yours followed.

Neither of you knew how long you sat like that, but after a while Casey asked, "Am I holding you too tight?"

You shook your head, snaking your arms around her waist. "No. Please don't let go."

"Never," she whispered, her breath hot on your cheek.

[fortheunsungheros]

Soooo I was going through all of my old school assignments to transfer them to my personal Google account (transferring schools sucks 😭) and I found a bunch of outsiders stuff I wrote! I wrote this for a POV of Johnny assignment and somehow didn’t get sent to the counselors office THIS time. And yes I was a Johnnyboy ship at the time. TW for implied suicide (yes I’m a messed up 13 year old lmao)

————————————————————————

I see Ponyboy gasping for air without any success. His screams and pleads for help are eventually silenced by an overwhelming quiet sensation. He’s drowning, Ponyboy is drowning I think to myself. I see his typical tan skin turn to a shade of icy blue and that’s when I decide enough is enough.

Ponyboy is my best friend, I can’t lose him. Him and the rest of the greasers are the only ones I keep myself on this Earth for. My parents could care less if I was alive or dead, the greasers are my real family. Pony came to me when Darry slapped him, that shows how close we are. He didn’t flee to Dally, Two-Bit, or even Steve; he chose me. Pony may be the only one who would ever choose me.

A wave of anger washes over my normally uneasy self. I begin to scream on the top of my lungs, “Let him go, you stupid soc!”. My calls are replied to by a snarky remark by Bob, the soc that makes my stomach curdle the most.

“ What are you gonna do about it, little greaser? You're clearly just a weak little boy. We beat you up last time no problem. You didn’t even try to fight back.” Bob says, chuckling. He turns to David, the man drowning Ponyboy, and says “Just kill him Davey, he’s too scared to save his own boy.”

Something inside me turns on. It’s almost like a lightswitch was flicked, changing my personality from shy and skittish to enraged and dangerous. I reach into my back pocket and feel for my switchblade for comfort. I really don’t want to do this but it seems like the only way. I grab my weapon from my pocket and display it for all the socs to see.

“Oh wow little greaser, whatcha gonna do, cut us?” Randy said, nudging Bob as he pretended to be afraid.

I flip open my switch blade and gather my thoughts. I shouldn’t do this, it’s so wrong. Yes, these guys are bad but they are still young with a whole life ahead of them. Then again, they are trying to kill my best friend. It’s almost like an angel and devil are on my shoulder, fighting each other until one becomes victorious.

My feet begin charging at Bob. It’s like I can not control my own movements. I take my weapon and stab it into Bob’s chest. I can feel the blade piercing through the young man’s skin. His face looked absolutely horrified. Bob grabs the knife from his chest and attempts to jab me. I quickly reverse the blade's direction back onto him. It’s like a ferocious animal takes over my body. I stabbed him eight more times in the chest. But he refuses to give up for approximately a minute. Bob reminds me of Dally, he is a fighter. Eventually, Bob's body slumps down to the floor. He is presumably still alive, but clinging onto life.

“Weak little greaser. Nobody will ever love you.”, Bob says with the last bit of strength he can compile. His breathing begins to shallow before his breaths stop abruptly. I’ve killed someone.

What have I done? My heart began beating a million miles a minute. My chest begins to tighten to the point it becomes difficult to breathe. All I can do is stare at Bob’s lifeless body, the life of it in which I stole. How could I have killed someone? He was so young as well. Although he acted mature for his age, Bob could not have been older than 17 or 18. He had a whole future of opportunities upon him and I stole his life in such a violent way. I’m sure his parents will be heartbroken with the news that their son has perished, especially given the circumstances in which he died. I am truly a monster.

The rest of the socs are terrified. David drops Ponyboy onto the hard park surface and begins to run. He yells to the other three men “Come on boys, we gotta get outa here!”. The rest of the socs abandoned Bob at the first sight of trouble. While we were walking to the park, Ponyboy told me about the conversation Cherry and him had about the differences between greasers and socs. I would tell Ponyboy that I found another difference, greasers are loyal to their brotherhood while socs are not. I might not be able to tell him this, let alone anything else after this fateful night.

I run over to Ponyboy's limp body and begin screaming. “Ponyboy no!” I grab his body and begin hugging him so hard his head might pop off. “Don’t leave me, please. I love you, you're a brother to me.” I say to Ponyboy as tears seep from my eyes rapidly. I grab his shoulders and begin shaking him, hoping to wake him up from this bad dream. My eyes stare at his blue tinted face until my visibility is obstructed by my own tears. I lay down next to him and hug him tight.

What am I supposed to do now? Not only am I a murderer, my best friend and my world is dead. I can’t go to the slammer, Dally is walking proof that place messes you up. Also, how am I supposed to live without my best friend? My mind turns to the worst thought I possibly have ever possessed. I have a knife. I could end all of this pain now.

I release my arms from Pony and sit up. My hands visibly shake as I grab my knife, the same one I used to stab Bob. His cherry red blood is still lying on the blade. I never thought my life would end like this. I thought I would die an accomplished old man warm in my bed with my loving family beside me. Never would I think I would die young alone in a park.

I look at Ponyboy again. He still appears lifeless, taking shallow breaths irregularly. My focus returns to the knife. I can’t run from the fuzz for the rest of my life. Plus, my parents won’t care if I’m dead, it’s more money to spend on drinking for them. The greasers will forget about me eventually. The only one who ever would have cared about me was Ponyboy.

Before I take action, I reflect on what my life was. It’s sad, you know, how one action can ruin your entire life. I think of my parents, probably slumped over drunk with no idea of their son's current situation. I think of Darry and Sodapop, the people who love Ponyboy and how concerned they must be. Lastly I think of Bob, who’s life I stole too soon. I hope I’m the afterlife I can apologize for my horrendous actions. I truly am sorry. I flip my blade open and with tears in my eyes, I begin cutting my wrist. Before any skin is broken, a sound stops me dead in my tracks.

Suddenly, I hear Ponyboy coughing. I run to his aid to turn him over. He’s alive. Ponyboys alive. Not only is Ponyboy alive, I’m alive. He’s the only reason I’m living right now.

“Johnny? Is that you?” Ponyboy said in a state of deliriousness.

“ I’m here Pony, relax you're safe.”I say trying to hold back my own tears to keep him calm.

“Where are those socs?” Ponyboy says trying to gather his scattered thoughts.

“I killed him, I said slowly. I killed that boy.”

————————————————————————

[amoreuxx]

forgive us our sins — ksn.

18+ ; minors dni !

tags: unprotected sex, contains catholic themes, blasphemy. do not read if you are sensitive to such.

"can't believe you're lying on a bed being pounded by someone in a position like the man who died on the cross." sunoo said. it was good friday, a day commemorate Christ who died on the cross for our sins. yet, you were doing something so sinful inside a room nearby where your mother and her fellow sisters in Christ were chanting the life and death of Christ as part of some Catholic practice. you were trying so hard to stifle your moans but the faster and harder sunoo just went making you unable to think properly. "oh my God." you cried out as he hit a particular spot, making you feel some sort of knot in your stomach. sunoo covered your mouth with his hand. "shh, you wouldn't want your mother to come in here seeing her daughter in the middle of a sinful act, don't you?" he shushed and whispered to your ear in a low voice. unable to utter a word, you shook your head. he chuckled, seeing as you were helpless under him. "Jesus was crucified to pay for our sins, yet you're committing another sin. i don't remember your mom raising a God-fearing daughter like you." you shook your head, denying what he said. "where's that girl serves in church?that offers everything to God? that puts Him first and prays to Him regularly at the chapel?" he questions. but you were unable to answer and you let you head bob dumbly as he thrusts deeper each question. he takes your jaw into his hand and squeezes your face. everything was a haze but you could recognize that arrogant grin he was wearing, knowing he's fucked the dumb out of you. "i think we should pray to Our Father. say sorry for sinning once again, hmm?" you only hummed in response. he raised his head away from you and you see him do the sign of the cross. despite that, he kept a steady pace thrusting in you. "Our Father, who art in heaven, holy be thy name, thy kingdom come, thy will be done on Earth as it is in heaven." he prayed. you were so focused on reaching your climax that you couldn't focus on the prayer. he slapped your face since you hadn't responded and tears were pooling in your eyes. despite being hit in the face, it just turned you on even more. "fucking respond." he demanded. you whimpered and tried to utter out the response. "Give us this day... our daily bread... and forgive us... our sins—fuck!" you managed to say in a shaky breath and sunoo somehow and unimaginably just went faster. he gave you another slap to the face. "that word isn't part of the prayer." he scowled at you. you mewled and continued. "As we forgive those... who sin against us." he raised your hips higher to meet his closer than ever. his pace was starting to get erratic and you know he was nearing his high as well. "Do not bring us to the test... but... deliver us... from evil. Amen!" gripping on to his back as hard as you can as you felt your climax, you're sure it would leave a mark. you could feel his own pour inside you as well. he slowly thrust his cum further into you before pulling out. he chuckled once again as he got a look of your fucked out face. "Amen, indeed." he said before planting a soft kiss to your lips.

[ctimenefic]

So @strawberry-daiquiris wrote an incredible F1 Traitors AU (seriously, go read it) and was kind enough to let me paddle around in the Galex end of the pool.

Many thanks to @latecomersprivilege, for whom this is a belated birthday gift, an almost on time Valentine's gift, and ultimately not what she asked for but what she's getting!

It’s a month since the last episode aired and George hasn’t messaged him.

Oh, he’s in the group chat - he’s the admin of the group chat. He’s posting memes, even the ones about himself, nearly every day. Asking very sincerely after people’s partners, their kids. Adding little crying laughing emojis to almost all the jokes. (Almost all - never Alex’s. Not even once. Which. Come on. Checo’s not even that funny.)

So. Yeah, it’d been bad, at the end, at their last round table together, George damp eyed and smiling through it and Alex nearly fumbling his own defence trying to tell him one more time “it’s just a game”.

But. Like. Not so bad as to cancel out everything else. Or at least, Alex had thought so. Hoped so.

It’s been a month.

Hey just wondering if we shd have a coffee or smthg? Clear the air?

Sure. When?

Nxt wk? Peckham?

(George told him all about his little flat in Dulwich, how he properly loved all the twee village-y shit like the wooden sign-posts and bougie cafes, in their murmured conversations in the hotel corridors, heads ducked together and voices low. Alex had taken the piss, but so softly he’d barely recognised his own cadence. That- that had been the first clue, before he’d started noticing how George’s adams apple bobbed when he got loud.

But Dulwich is packed to the brim with Traitors fans, has to be, all middle class mums and families that gather round the telly of an evening to actually spend time together. They’d be spotted in seconds. So Peckham feels safer, crowded and anonymous and too fucking cool to pay attention if Alex has to get on his knees and beg George to- to-)

The cafe’s still a bit posh, which means it’s basically deserted. George is wearing the kind of T-shirt that only fits that well because it’s expensive.

He’s ordered tea already, and Alex wants to remind him to drink up, like he did at breakfast every morning, because George would always get too into their conversation to finish before it got cold. He’d slug it back anyway, wincing, and Alex would pretend to ignore the line of his throat.

“I’m sorry you didn’t win,” George blurts. “I know I- I didn’t help, I know, but after, I did want it to be you. You’d worked so hard.”

Alex stares at him. “I never thought I would. Maybe near the end, a bit, but. Well. I got lucky.”

George pulls a face. “Come on, you were brilliant at it. So convincing. I really thought I’d find out you were, like, an actor or something.”

George smiles at that, small and tight. “Oh, yeah, the office have been so weird about it. Saying they didn't watch, and then making jokes that prove they did. I've stopped paying attention to it.”

Alex tries to laugh, like it’s a joke. Like he hadn’t talked George’s ear off about the practice. How he’d use the money, if they won - as Faithful - to get back to his veterinary degree, properly qualify. “Nah, still at my old place. They’ve, uh, let me take the backroom stuff for a bit, while it dies down.”

Alex nods. Pretends George has got better at lying. “Hope they're not being nasty.”

“Oh, not too bad.” The ‘too’ makes Alex want to snarl, set his teeth in someone's neck. Bastards. And George's blasé tone runs a little thin as he goes on. “Might quit, actually, try the influencer thing for a bit. It's basically the same as sales, just, you know. Different product.”

“You'd be good at that,” Alex tries. “Influential. I'd be, uh, influenced.” In the time it takes George to blink three times, Alex experiences all nine levels of hell and a few more added just for him.

I'd be influenced. Christ.

“How are you doing with that, sponsorships and stuff?” George asks and Alex shrugs. He’s got his fans, the ones who think he was robbed, rather than bottled it. His Insta’s big, now, not millions but, like, decent. Marketable. Problem is, he isn’t.

“Turns out, being known as a really good liar doesn’t get loads of hashtag spon ops,” he says, trying to keep it light. Like money hadn’t been the whole point. George’s face falls, the first unrehearsed expression Alex has seen all morning.

“Oh crikey, I’m sorry, I didn’t- cause it’s been alright, and I was a traitor too, at the end so-”

“Yeah, but I forced you into it, didn’t I? I’m the bad guy.” There’s a decent TikTok edit of him to that Billie Eilish song, all his smiles and laughs and fond looks, set to the beat of sociopathy. It’s very slick; turned his stomach on the second watch. “Plus, you know, you look like that, which probably helps.”

He knows it’s been more than alright for George. He hasn’t liked any of his Instagram posts, too… proud? ashamed? But he’s seen them all, including the Stories, so George must know he’s been there. Or maybe he doesn’t, maybe there’s hundreds of people, and they’re not mutuals, he remembers abruptly. George didn’t follow him back.

He flips his phone in his hands, once, twice; worries at the crack in the screen down by the bottom right corner, just enough to feel the scrape against the pad of his thumb.

George notices, of course. Those big blue eyes, all the better for spotting clues. Terrible at knowing what they meant. “Do you wanna take a picture for insta then? Show people it’s all water under the bridge?”

“Uh, not really? I mean…” it doesn’t feel under the bridge, or air cleared. Alex still feels like he’s choking on it.

That small wrinkle he used to make fun of appears between George’s brows. “Wasn’t that the point of this?”

“Jesus, no, I’m not-” Alex feels sick, properly sick, hot chocolate coming back on him for a second. “I wanted to be friends - I want to be friends. Again.”

“Again,” George repeats, after a beat.

Alex swallows. Presses the tip of his tongue against the edge of his front teeth, where they turn sharp enough to cut, like a bit of pain now will soothe the sucking void where his stomach used to be. “Right, no, of course. Forget it, look, I'll get these and-”

George catches his wrist before he can make a break for it. His thumb lands in the soft spot between the tendons, where Alex’s pulse beats - ha - traitorously fast.

“Wait. You haven't told me how your mum is. And your sisters. And Luca, obviously, and the cats.”

“The cats?”

“Yeah, obviously. Can't go before I hear about the cats, ‘Lex. All of them. So you should probably, um, sit back down.”

So he does.

[thechekhov]

Dungeon Meshi - Quick Reacts (CHAPTER 14: Kelpie)

You know, I understand why people are annoyed by her attitude towards Senshi’s food and Laios’ tastes, but you gotta admit she’s trying her best. 

this is another one of these things that don’t really come up in games but... thank fuck they have flowing water. That would be a real deal breaker if you want to survive. And they can shave and brush their teeth? It’s a miracle.

To be fair, I think Senshi’s beard is probably its own ecosystem by now. He probably uses it as a scrub brush. 

At least if she does that, you’ll be picking way less dwarf hair out of your food. Come on guys, we know that stuff gets in there when he cooks. 

someone get this woman to design a whole ass game. 

Water walk! Good wizard. 

is Senshi afraid of water?! Dwarves I swear.....

Aww, their first party fight! I’m shocked at how coordinated Laios and Chilchuck are. 

HE’S STILL SINKING, JUST SLOWLY.

HIS BEARD? It repels magic... 😂

Laios, you don’t look as sure as you sound. 

Oh. OH yEAH. There will be NO repercussions for THAT. 

Marcille’s little “Anne.” isn’t even a question. She’s just disappointed. 

Meanwhile, that Kelpie straight up wants the blood and guts soaked into his beard.

Didn’t that thing... walk.... out from UNDER the water though? 

That seems extreme as well, but I’m on this hill with Laios and his distrust of horses. 

I see someone speaks from experience. 

Yeah, I could have maybe seen that coming. 

Though I AM legitimately disappointed by this turn of events.

Horses are horrifying when they’re given dog mouths - confirmed. 

...actually hold on

Horses are horrifying when they’re given dog mouths - confirmed.

Marcille’s been on the protein I see. 

Laios, you are right but also your little pet monster will eat you one day. For no though, the fact that you almost drowned it is adorable. 

Don’t you though? I imagine if anyone understands how monsters think, it would be you, Laios. 

It’s true that he loved her. It’s also true that letting her rot without using her would be a waste. In a way, she will carry them further this way. 

oooh, is she making soap? 

There’s something about the idea of using things you have at your disposal that makes this really cool. The fact that everything they’re making, aside from very special ingredients like olive oil, are all scavenged and created with their own hand is... I don’t know... heartwarming? 

THEY’RE!!!! BONDING!!!!

Weirdly heartwarming.

Maybe just let it air dry--

whEEZE---- I CAN’T--

There he goes............the magnificent beast............

GROUP HUG! aww

.......................... coding, man. No matter what century, that one typo will get ya.

The real BBEG was the lack of unions all along...............

YOU ASKED FIRST, YOU DINGUS. 😂

All that said, Laios doesn’t strike me as someone interested in romance. 

this is just a magical hermit crab.

NOOO HE JUST WANTED TO VIBE

You guys could probably make a fortune as dungeon delvers if you weren’t after Falin.

Who knows if souls exist? Haven’t you all died multiple times?

............Well, they do have skin and a squishy inside, and they grow..... checks out.

........you know what? I’ll take it. Wine? Necromancy. Cheese? Necromancy. Natto? DEFINITELY necromancy. 

Marcille doesn’t drink?

...........is this doodle-bob all over again? 

Senshi, who nearby died by Kelpie: WHY DON’T THEY WANT MY LIVER? IT’S GOOD FOR THEM!

.....................like respects like. These two are on the same frequency. 

If we’re being nitpicky about it, Anne never actually bit Senshi. She went after the Mimic. Maybe she just got tired because he was fucking heavy........ 

Horses, man. 

[ohtobeleah]

Oh gosh that angst! Tell us more about these rumors

Oh but could you imagine it though. And of course it’s fucking Hangman who kinda like sticks his nose where it doesn’t belong.

Because surely a girl like you had a skeleton or two in that closet of yours. You just popped up out of nowhere. And went after Bob of all people? His ego was a little bruised, that’s all it was.

“You know she was named as a person of interest when her fiancé died right?” Jakes drunk and his kinda pissed Bob got the pretty cafe girl and he didn’t.

The bar goes quiet. Bradley sees the smile ripped right off Bobs face and just when they all thought Jake could be a decent human being—he does this.

“I searched up her name there’s hundreds of articles man—I’d be careful if I were you.”

“Are we ready to order?” You’re popping up beside Bob after getting back from the bathroom, little Ollie is holding your hand completely none the wiser that Jake has just outted your deepest darkest secrets to his entire squadron to make himself feel better about the fact you didn’t go for him. “Uh—is something wrong?”

Everyone’s just staring, no one knows what to say. Because how do you ask someone you hardly know if they committed murder or not?