#ryan sears

[timdoritos]

ACT 1 REMAKE DROPPING TOMORROWWWW HAPPY REFRESH EVE!!

[rollanan]

todays doodles, feat Ryan and Brook from Sburb Refresh, and Kate and Gary from Nightfall/Xenologia

[sburbrefreshincorrectquotes]

RB: i think i have what it takes to be an interesting bisexual girl's uninteresting straight boyfriend.

[jdsgothwife]

final destination + assorted posts part 4 (part 3 here)

[alyallow]

Still from the Animated Sequence done by Fizzy Eye/London in the feature-length documentary MOOG (2004) - a film on synthesizer pioneer Bob Moog. Directed by Hans Fjellestad and Produced by Ryan Page & Hans Fjellestad. Exec Produced by Gary Hustwit.

[axeeglitter]

Uber Frat

Tom had driven this route a hundred times before. The streets near the university were alive with students barhopping, loud music booming from nearby frat houses. His Uber beeped as a new ride request came in from Delta Sigma Gamma, one of the more notorious frats, known for their cocky jocks and constant partying. He sighed, not particularly excited about the prospect of dealing with another drunk frat boy.

The rider’s name popped up on his phone: Ryan.

"Another one of these guys," Tom muttered to himself, already dreading the ride. At thirty-five, Tom was happy with his life. He was engaged to Sarah, his high school sweet heart, and they were planning their wedding. Driving Uber was just a way to save up a little extra for the wedding. He was a simple guy; routine, stability, and a future with Sarah. He had no interest in wild parties or the frat life he’d never had.

When he pulled up to the massive Delta Sigma house, a shirtless, muscular figure stumbled out, carrying the telltale swagger of someone who had downed far too many beers. Ryan was massive, broad-shouldered, thick arms, chest bursting out of his soaked tank top. His feet dragged a little as he approached the car, and when he opened the door, the powerful stench of sweat and musk hit Tom like a truck.

Ryan collapsed into the backseat, reeking of alcohol, but worse than that, his scent was overpowering, the smell of sweat-soaked skin and dirty gym socks filling the car immediately. Tom gagged but tried to keep it under control.

“Yo, driver!” Ryan slurred, kicking off his sneakers without a care and slapping his socked feet right between the two front seats on the arm rest “Take me to the next bar, bro.”

“Uh, can you put your feet down?” Tom asked, his voice tight with irritation.

Ryan didn’t even glance at him, wiggling his toes lazily. “Nah, man, you’ll get used to it. Just like everyone else. This is how it is when you’re part of the brotherhood.” His voice was thick with drunken confidence, a cocky grin spreading across his face.

“Look, man, I’m just trying to do my job,” Tom said, irritation rising as the smell intensified, like sour sweat and musk combining to form something nearly tangible.

Ryan chuckled, the sound low and mocking. “You think you’re better than us, huh? Driving your Uber, going back to your little pathetic, boring life, playing it all straight and safe. You don’t even know what you’re missing, bro.”

Tom glanced in the rearview mirror, trying to keep his temper in check. “I’m just trying to get you where you need to go.”

Ryan leaned forward; his eyes gleaming. “Yeah, well, maybe where you need to go isn’t where you think. You ever think about that? You’re just waiting for someone to show you the way.”

Before Tom could respond, Ryan started to laugh under his breath, a weird sound emitting from his mouth. The air in the car shifted, growing thick, almost suffocating. Tom felt his heart rate spike as a sudden, intense heat spread through his body, followed by a strange tingling sensation.

“What the hell are you doing?” Tom snapped, panic rising as his muscles began to twitch uncontrollably.

Ryan smirked. “Don’t worry, bro. You’re about to find out what it’s like to really live.”

Tom’s breath caught in his throat as the tingling spread, intensifying into sharp, searing pain. His body felt like it was on fire from the inside out, muscles spasming and bones popping. His hands, gripping the steering wheel tightly, began to thicken before his very eyes. His fingers lengthened, widening as his palms became rough and calloused, swelling with new, brute strength.

“No… what’s happening?” Tom gasped, watching in horror as his forearms bulged, veins popping out against his skin. His arms were growing, muscle piling onto muscle, forcing his sleeves to stretch tight against his biceps and forearms.

Ryan leaned back, grinning. “It’s starting, bro. You’re just getting jacked like the rest of us.”

Tom could feel his chest expanding, pecs pushing out as his once-slender frame grew broader and wider. His shirt strained against the sheer bulk of his chest, the fabric barely able to contain the growing mass of muscle beneath it. His ribs cracked, reforming to accommodate the new size of his upper body.

With a groan of agony, Tom’s spine elongated, forcing him to hunch forward in the seat as his height shot up. His back rippled with new muscle, his shoulders broadening into massive slabs of strength. The pain was unbearable, every bone in his body felt like it was being stretched and reshaped.

“Stop! Please, stop!” Tom begged, his voice shaky with fear, but his words only made Ryan grin wider.

“Why stop, bro? You’re looking real good now. Imagine how much the boys are gonna love you.” Said Ryan as he wiggled his toes.

Tom’s legs began to throb, his thighs thickening, swelling with raw power. His jeans ripped at the seams, unable to contain the bulging muscles that pushed outward. His calves, once average, now bulged with definition, covered in a layer of thick, coarse hair that sprouted up his legs, across his thighs, and up to his groin.

He felt a strange tug in his groin, and his breath hitched as his penis twitched, growing harder, swelling in size. His balls, once normal-sized, ballooned larger, filling with an almost unbearable pressure. The musk of Ryan’s feet, the overpowering scent that had once repelled him, now seemed intoxicating, and Tom could feel a growing hunger building in his chest.

“No… this isn’t me. This can’t be happening,” Tom whispered, his voice deepening, taking on a more masculine, gruff tone.

Ryan wiggled his toes again and crossed his feet, brushing Tom’s forearm along the way “Oh, it’s happening, bro. You’re gonna be just like the rest of us. You’re gonna love being with your bros. Trust me, man, it’s what you’ve always wanted.”

Tom’s mind screamed in protest, but his body continued to betray him. The hair follicles on his chest started to burn as Tom saw in the reflection of the mirror that his faint dark brown hair was turning clearer, taking a golden hue, almost disappearing in his skin. He saw the same happening in his armpits as they grew thicker and denser there. The scent of his own sweat mixed with Ryan’s musk, creating an overwhelming cocktail of testosterone that filled the car.

His abs rippled beneath his torn shirt, each muscle growing more defined until his midsection was a solid, chiseled six-pack. His body was drenched in sweat, the salty tang of it filling the air, and to his horror, Tom realized he didn’t hate the smell. He liked it. He craved it.

His face contorted in pain as his jawline shifted, becoming squarer and more pronounced. His cheekbones sharpened, his nose slightly thickened, and his brow became more prominent. His once-neatly dark brown trimmed hair grew wilder, curlier, messier style that looked perfect for a frat bro.

But the worst was yet to come. Tom’s groin pulsed with heat, his penis swelling to an obscene size. His balls hung low, filled with a primal need, a hunger for something more. His underwear strained to contain the sheer mass of his manhood, and Tom could feel his arousal building, stronger, hotter, and more insistent than anything he had ever experienced.

“No… no…” Tom moaned, but it wasn’t just the size that scared him. It was the desire. The growing lust, not for women, but for men, his bros. The idea of being surrounded by them, feeling their bodies pressed against his, touching, tasting, servicing them, it sent waves of unwanted pleasure through him as he was trying to restraint those foreign pulsion. Tom turned his head back to throw a look of pleading to Ryan, but the only thing he saw between his locks of curly blonde hair was Ryan gripping his own groin through his jeans while licking his lips looking at him.

Inside his mind, Tom was screaming, fighting to hold onto his old self, but his body was changing too fast, too much. His cock twitched, a bead of precum forming at the tip, staining the inside of his underwear turned into a kaki speedo. His new, massive muscles tensed, and every part of him screamed for release.

Ryan watched him struggle, a grin of satisfaction on his face. “You’re almost there, bro. You feel it, don’t you? You need to let go. Just blow it in your speedo, man, and it’ll all be over. You’ll be one of us.”

Tom’s mind rebelled, but his body was beyond his control. The overwhelming musk, the power coursing through his muscles, the heat in his groin, it was too much. He could feel his balls tighten, his cock throb, and his heart race as the tension built inside him.

“Come on, bro, I gave you a chance to really enjoy this all. Way too long…” Ryan urged, his voice low and commanding. “Fuck it, you wanted this. CUM!”

With a shuddering gasp, Tom’s body obeyed. His cock spasmed, and with a grunt of pure, animalistic pleasure, he came hard, his seed spilling into his speedo in a hot, sticky mess. The sensation was overwhelming, waves of ecstasy crashing through his entire body. His muscles flexed, his heart pounded, and his new frat bro self-emerged in full force. As the orgasm was subsiding, Tom’s clothes torn clothes started to vanish into pure manly musk, evaporating straight from his body and pushing the musk in the car even further. Tom stood there, his new kaki speedo damp with his cum. The outline of his huge cock still visible in the dampness of the tissue. Tom trying to find his breath as Ryan was still boringly stroking his cock and riding the hangover of alcohol and musk.

Tom’s conversion was complete, his body now entirely foreign to him, yet every part of it felt strong, powerful, and, worst of all, desperately needy. His new muscular frame was drenched in sweat, his speedo sticky and soaked with his release. His broad chest heaved, the musky scent of his own sweat mingled with the fresh cum soaking his crotch, the stench filling the car.

Tom opened his eyes after a while when his brain could connect the information around him. He tried to move to take a look but to his surprise he couldn’t do anything. IT was like he was frozen on his car seat. As he started to panic, Tom heard Ryan’s voice from behind him as he felt hands on his muscled sweaty shoulders. “I told you you should have let it go and accept it. But no, you had to fight… I’m sorry bro, but if you had accepted the changes, your soul would have been assimilated. Now you’ll have to live your life from the passenger seat. Too bad for a driver to be a passenger of his own life.” Inside, Tom was screaming in pure, abject horror. He could still feel everything, the slick wetness in his shorts, the stench of his own musk, and the weight of his massive muscles. But it was like he had been shoved into a tiny corner of his own brain, trapped as a mere observer while his new frat bro body had taken full control. He could see, hear, and feel, but he was no longer in command. “See? You should have accepted way earlier Tom, or should I call you Carter!”

Ryan leaned forward, inspecting his handiwork, and laughed. “Oh yeah, bro. You’re one of us now. Look at you—fucking perfect. Just wait until the other guys get a load of you.”

Tom wanted to scream, to shout at Ryan, but his body refused to respond. Instead, his lips parted into a cocky grin, and his voice, deep and full of arrogance, spoke words that Tom didn’t want to say. “Hell yeah, man. I’m ready. Let’s fucking go.”

Inside, Tom’s soul wept. He tried to fight, to claw his way back to control, but the frat bro instincts that now filled his brain were stronger, overpowering his old self. He couldn’t stop the way his muscles flexed instinctively, couldn’t stop the pulse of desire that rushed through him at the thought of being with his bros, couldn’t stop the way his cock throbbed with excitement at the idea of being used by them.

Ryan clapped him on the back, his grin wide. “That’s the spirit, bro. Let’s head back to the house, just got a text from Cassidy and she cancelled our date. That’s okay though, looks like our brand-new slut just arrived. The guys are gonna fucking love you.”

Carter shifted in the seat, his large, muscular frame barely fitting in the compact space now. His legs stretched out, thick thighs brushing against the dash as he shifted, adjusting his still-hard cock in his shorts. His skin felt tight over his new muscles, the hair on his chest and legs sticking to his sweaty skin, adding to the overpowering scent that filled the car. His body, now perfect for the frat life, responded instinctively, craving the approval and attention of the bros waiting for him at the house.

After a while, they were both back at the frat house, every step sent a fresh wave of musk into the air, the smell clinging to his skin, marking him as one of them. Tom hated it, despised the way his new body seemed to revel in the scent, in the sheer masculinity of it all.

The door swung open, and the other Delta Sig brothers were already lounging on the couches, drinking and laughing. As soon as Carter walked in, all eyes were on him, and the room erupted into cheers.

“Damn, Ryan, you did a fucking good job on this one!” one of the bros called out, eyeing Carter with a mix of approval and lust.

Ryan grinned, clapping Carter on the shoulder. “Told you guys I’d bring us a new hole to fuck to replace the last one. He’s fucking perfect, right?”

Carter’s frat bro instincts kicked in, and he flexed his arms, showing off his massive biceps with a cocky grin. His body responded to their approval with an almost addictive high, a deep, primal desire to be wanted by them, to be used by them.

Inside, Tom was screaming, but his body was lost in the moment, his cock already twitching in anticipation as the bros crowded around him, patting him on the back, feeling his muscles, and welcoming him into their ranks.

Ryan leaned in close, his voice low and teasing. “You feel that, bro? You’re one of us now. Doesn’t it feel fucking amazing?”

Carter’s mouth opened, and his voice, deep, confident, and undeniably turned on answered, “Yeah, bro. Feels fucking incredible.”

Ryan smirked, satisfied. “Welcome to the brotherhood, man. Now, let’s get you upstairs and really show you what it means to be a Delta Sig.”

As the group led Tom toward the stairs, the weight of his new life fully settled in. Inside, his old self screamed and fought, desperate to break free. But his body, now a slave to the desires of the frat, couldn’t wait to submit to his bros, to be used by them in every way. ______________________________________________________________ Hey guys! Hope you'll enjoy this story based on this prompt from an anonymous: "An Uber driver picks up a drunk guy with smelly feet who taunts him with his scent and tfs him into a bro to go out drinking with." Hope you like it! As always feel free to message me in dms or ask if you want me to write prompts or just talk. Have a good day! :)

[logansbookobsessedwife]

✨Married life✨

Hugh Jackman x reader

Summary: you and Hugh have been married ever since filming X-men (2000) and now you just finished working on Deadpool and Wolverine and you are doing a interview with Hugh , Ryan and Shawn levy and Hugh gets asked about your marriage and his speech brings you to tears

Warnings: nothing but FLUFF FLUFF FLUFF ❤️❤️❤️

🎀 🎀 🎀 🎀 🎀 🎀 🎀 🎀 🎀 🎀 🎀

You were sitting on the stage with your husband and two of your best friends during an interview and as you were all answering questions about the movie the interviewer asked Ryan about his family and kids and he starts talking about a time you and Hugh went over

“I walked into the house to find these two watching the greatest showman with my kids acting out the scenes and I looked at my girls and I was just thinking you have no idea how lucky you are and they aren’t going to appreciate that in like years from now because they only know them as uncle Hugh and aunty y/n” he replied with a laugh.

You couldn’t help the big smile on your face at the mention of Ryan’s girls. You and Blake had been friends before they had even got together and it was so sweet seeing that love blossom.

You shared glances with Hugh as the interviewer turned towards you. “do you ever babysit the young girls?” He asked you.

“yes actually it is one of my favorite things to do they are such sweet kids it reminds me of when ours were that age and I just get all excited every time I get to see them maybe more than them sometimes”. you said with a light hearted laugh.

Ryan decides to add on to that. “I wouldn’t be too sure sometimes I think they like you more than me!” You all laugh.

the interview goes on with more questions about the movie and ask Shawn some more along with the rest of you but one question really stuck

“Now I have been saving this one for last but I think we all want to know this so, Hugh, what has it been like being married to y/n for 24 years now?”

He looks at you with the softest expression and smile and says. “I don’t think I have ever been more thankful to be married to such a beautiful, kind hearted, strong, loyal, and sensible woman it has been the best years of my life and I wouldn’t give them up for anything the memories and moments we have shared are indescribable I love her with all my heart and I will continue to love her till I die and even when my heart gives out I don’t think I will stop even then” he continues to stare at you with such softness the tears in your eyes start to fall.

your eyes share a promise that as soon as the interview is done you are going to kiss him till you physically can’t. You raise your conjoined hands to you lips and kiss his hand.

“Wow that was beautiful.” The interviewer was in awe at how beautiful your relationship was.

even Ryan and Shawn had tears in their eyes because they have gotten to hear about how much he loves you so many times before.

After you said good bye and got off the stage you dragged Hugh to a private area away from private eyes and brought him into a searing kiss

“I love you so much I don’t know how my heart can physically take it!” You told once you pulled away resting your forehead on his. He smiled and replied “I love you to darling” he pulled you into one more kiss and you melted feeling him smile into it.

A/N: this is my first fic so please no hate love you all

- Natt❤️

[imfinereallyy]

“Steve, it’s an emergency. I need to kiss you. Actually, I need you to kiss me. But I can’t just do it without asking because what if you don’t want me to, and I practically attack you? So yes or no? I swear it’s for a good cause.” Eddie comes running up to Steve in the bar, panting so hard Steve can see the chest movements.

They have taken Robin to a bar out in Indy to get her laid finally. Or at least a tongue in her mouth. The girl is pent up. And it’s Steve’s job as best friend to make that happen (Robin has told him to stop saying that, ‘it is gross’). Eddie is the only other queer person they know and, luckily, has made quite a few trips to Indy to know which bars were the good ones. He tells Steve that, like Robin, he is desperate to get laid, so this is the perfect opportunity.

Steve does his best to try and ignore the burning jealousy he feels at that. Eddie doesn’t know about his feelings (hell about his sexuality), and Steve is pretty sure Eddie doesn’t see him that way.

“Huh?” Asks confused, his brain struggling to process.

“Okay, I see you’re stuck on how to answer, but Steve—“ Eddie grips Steve’s shoulder, and Steve tries not to swoon. “—my ex, the extra shitty one, is here, and if he sees me alone I’ll either a) go home with him tonight and—“

Steve cuts Eddie off with a searing kiss. The thought of Eddie going home with someone else was enough for Steve’s brain to catch up to speed. Steve presses Eddie against the bar. The loud bass of the music suddenly becomes a light thrum in the background. All that he feels is the delightful pressure of their lips together. Eddie’s hands slide up into Steve’s hair as he gets pressed harder into the bar. Steve’s hands' grip Eddie’s waist and give them a tight squeeze. The idea of bruises being left behind, a mark of what they are doing here, makes Steve deepen the kiss. His tongue used to massage Eddie’s, tasting the menthol and rum on his breath. Eddie moans loud and heavy, vibrating Steve’s entire body.

“Eddie?” A voice interrupts them. Steve feels his anger spark back slightly but wills it down because the interruption is probably needed. They are very close to getting kicked out for public indecency.

“Oh hey, Ryan.” Eddie looks the blonde man up and down. He’s cute, Steve notes, but he lacked personality in his appearance. He isn’t what Steve expects from an ex of Eddie’s. He isn’t naive enough to think Eddie dates exclusively metal heads, but he expects someone to match Eddie’s energy. This guy—Ryan apparently—looks like every other guy you’d find on a Sunday in Supermart. Boring and lacking imagination.

“Who’s this?” Ryan looks at Steve pissed.

“Steve?” Eddie wraps an arm around his waist, bringing Steve close up against him. “This is my boyfriend.”

“This dude’s your boyfriend?” Ryan snorts. “C'mon baby, I know you can do better.”

Steve feels his anger finally pop. “He is not your baby. Yea, he can do better than both of us combine, but I’m lucky enough to get him. Now, you interrupted our time together, and we both know you saw what we’re up to, so don’t act like it wasn’t on purpose.”

Ryan startles backwards, “I—“

“Sorry, maybe I wasn’t clear. I meant leave the fuck right now.” Steve grits out, some of his Upside Down protection mode popping out. Ryan scatters quickly.

“Jesus, Steve, that was amazing. I’m sorry I had to make you uncomfortable with that.” Eddie’s eyes find his and cuts Steve off before he can protest and explain no, he really did like that “—and you never even let me explain reason b, by the way! Reason b is b) he would probably humiliate me in the middle of the club.”

Steve nods at Eddie but has one track mind at this point. He grabs Eddie by the face this time before crashing their lips together once again. This time Steve moans into Eddie’s mouth as they both get lost in the kiss.

Steve pulls back ever so slightly and talks directly into Eddie’s mouth, “Sorry. I think he’s still staring. Needed to do more.”

Eddie, with swollen lips and a kissed-out face, looks around the bar to find nothing. “I don’t see him anywhere.”

Steve smirks and pulls Eddie by his belt loops so they are flushed together. Steve leans into Eddie’s ear and nibbles at his lobe. “Hmmm, you’re right. I think he’s actually in the bathroom. Maybe we should kiss in front of him there.” Steve whispers hotly.

Eddie’s brain, which has short-circuited much like Steve only minutes ago, finally catches up. Eddie groans, his face collapsing into Steve’s neck. He licks a stripe up Steve’s neck all the way to his mouth. “Fuck. Yea, baby, I think I saw him too. Think kissing, though, won’t be enough. We might need to up our game.”

Steve nips at Eddie’s lips, “I was hoping you would say that. Guess I just know how much you love your games, Eds.”

They meet each other for one last searing kiss before rushing to the bathrooms to share a very tight, very heated stall.

[timdoritos]

TIMDORITOS RYANTIM MASTERPOST

enjoy

[bullet-prooflove]

Romantic Shit: Ryan x Reader (Yellowstone)

Tagging: @hatersaremymotivators justsimplyme93 knick3rbock3r anticxrrupt 

Prequel to Summer (NSFW)

Every morning that Ryan wakes up with you is a gift. He’s thought that ever since you decided to take this cowboy to bed. This morning though, this morning is bitter sweet because he’s leaving in a couple of days for Texas and the two of you still haven’t discussed what that means for the relationship.

When he finds you, you’re standing on the porch of your house, watching the sunrise in the distance, a mug of coffee clasped to your chest. You’re clad in nothing but his plaid shirt and cowboy boots. The tattoo of his name stands stark against your upper thigh, a symbol of your love for him, your commitment.

This thing between the two of you was never meant to have a future.

In the beginning he didn’t see how it could work, you were a deputy in the sheriff’s department and he was a land enforcement agent/cowboy who did some goddamn shady shit. The secrets you kept from one another should have strangled the life out of this thing but instead it had flourished, because there has always been a mutual understanding. He’s got shit he can’t tell you and you’ve got shit you can’t tell him.

“We should talk about it.” He says quietly as he comes to lean against the wooden strut that supports the gable.

You set your coffee cup down on the railing before you turn your attention towards him. His jeans are slung low on his hips, the orange light from the sunrise plays over his bare chest, highlighting the brand that’s seared into his skin.

“I guess I just wasn’t ready for this to end just yet.” You say as you lean against the pillar opposite him.

Ryan wants to tell you it doesn’t have to, that he’ll be true to you out there in Texas but he can’t ask you to wait a year for him, no matter how much he may want it. His fingertips trace over your name, the italic scrawl inked into his inner forearm.

Katalina…

The love of his life.

The woman whose about to become Sheriff of this county.

You can’t go with him and he can’t stay…

“I love you.” He says quietly as he looks out across the landscape. “I will always love you, the distance doesn’t change that.”

“I know.” You say softly as you come to stand beside him. “I keep asking myself what’s one year in the space of a lifetime?” 

“And what’s the answer?” He asks you, the back of his hand brushing lightly against yours.

Your fingers capture his, entwining them and for the first time since this conversation started he allows himself to hope.

“Marry you.” You say, squeezing his hand a little. “So you’ll know you’ll always be mine, wherever you go.”

If that isn’t the most romantic shit he doesn’t know what is.

“Are you asking me that honey?” He murmurs, his hands coming to rest on your hips as he backs you up against the strut. He can feel the heat of your body through the shirt, he wants to unbutton it, take it off, fuck you right here on the porch. “Are you asking me to marry you before I head off to Texas?”

Your fingers lace at the base of his neck, fingertips brushing over the light curls. His hair has gotten a little long this season. He’s been meaning to cut it but he likes the way your fingers feel when you tug it just right.

“I guess I am cowboy.” You whisper against his lips. “So is that a yes or a no?”

Love Ryan? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[sburbrefreshincorrectquotes]

RB: woke up, mxster freethem… RB: woke up and… smell the pronouns…

[fruitgoat]

Mapping/Routing the CTA

I'm still blaming @copperbadge for all of this.

As I am taking this trip in my mind, I have chosen to ignore a lot of the challenges the physical world brings.  Like road construction, neighborhood block parties, day of the week, trains that only stop there once a day in the opposite direction, buses that only run a few hours a day, the actual passage of time, etc.  This trip should not be attempted in the Real World – every route and stop apparently still exists, but you might need to wait hours if not days for the correct bus/train.  For the Extra Bonus Points of LOLs and Nostalgia I have included sections of the Metra (Milwaukee Districts North and West and South Shore Electric), Big Bus Tours, and the Water Taxi.

Again, do NOT try this route in Real Time.  Yet.  My ADHD brain may or may not get back to you in a few days on how long it would actually take just so we can all laugh at the idea of getting lost and being forced to sneak around and spend the night in a mattress store at the Golf Mill Shopping Center or whatever.  (Actually, that’s a hell of a meetcute.  I… I might need to go write something now….)

Starting at Linden.

Ride Purple Line to Howard.  Transfer to Yellow Line.

Ride Yellow Line to Dempster-Skokie. (Resist the muscle memory to catch the bus all the way to Deerfield. I really hated that commute.)

Bus to Morton Grove Metra.

Ride (MN) Metra to Mayfair.

Walk to Blue Line (Montrose).  Ride Blue Line to O’Hare.

Stretch legs and bathroom break.  Refill water bottle.  Refuel if needed.

Ride Blue Line back to Harlem. Bus to Fullerton.

Walk around my old neighborhood.  (I think the walk to Caputo’s is worth it, but maybe don’t buy any fresh squid if you’re getting back on the train.)

Ride (MW) Metra from Mont Clare to Grand/Cicero.

Bus to Blue Line (Montrose).  Ride Blue Line to Forest Park.

Bus to Green Line (Harlem/Lake).  Ride Green Line to Cottage Grove.  (I’m stopping along the way to visit family, get something to eat, and maybe nap while charging my electronics.)

Bus to Green Line (Ashland/63rd).  Ride Green Line to Garfield.

Walk to Red Line (Garfield).  Ride Red Line to Dan Ryan.  Hang Around Like An Idiot.  Ride Red Line to Lake.

Transfer to Pink Line.  Ride Pink Line to Cermak/54th, then back to Cicero.

Bus to Midway.  (Unhydrate.  Rehydrate.)  Ride Orange Line to Halsted.  Walk to River.  Or I think there’s a bus that’s just not showing up at the moment.

Water Taxi to West Loop.

Walk to Willis Tower.  (Bonus point for each instance of calling it Sears Tower.) Tour Bus to Museum Campus.

Metra Electric back to Millennium Park Station.

Walk to Washington/Wabash.  Ride Brown Line to Kimball.

Ride Brown Line back to State/Lake.  (Stop at Fullerton if it’s morning.  Walk to Orange and order the pancake flight and watch them fresh squeeze your citrus juice.  Walk to Molly’s if you like cupcakes.  Double Extra Bonus points if you pointedly reminisce about the Meatloaf Bakery when you pass where it was.  Crash a wedding at my old apartment building if you’re really bored. I really miss my neighborhood at the moment.)

Transfer to Red Line.  Ride Red Line to Howard.  (I’m going to stop at Granville for the Memories.  This was my first address in Chicago – even if I technically wasn’t supposed to receive mail because I wasn’t on the lease.)

[prettyoddfever]

Local God doesn't fit Ryan Ross

I'm still getting a couple questions about this, so let's go through each line in the beginning of the song...

In 1998, you bought a B.C. Rich: Here's how Ryan described his actual first guitar that his dad bought as a present around 1999 (the year was generally ballparked in interviews): "I kept begging my dad for a guitar. I picked out an off-brand, a Harmony, I think, out of the Sears Christmas catalog. It came with a battery-powered amp. It was $100 for everything." That is such a far cry from a B.C. Rich.

You were a master shredder from the jump: Just no. Ryan told Ultimate Guitar that "In the beginning, probably about the first year, I just tried to do it on my own. It was really, really frustrating. So I took lessons for a little while." And the songs he was trying to play in the early years were easy. Spencer told Drum Magazine in 2007 that “blink-182 was a great band for Ryan to play to because the guitar parts were all three-chord songs. But Travis Barker’s drum parts were so far musically beyond that – it was just frustrating.”

Blew them all away with the Ritalin kids while I was shedding through my sophomore slump: None of this applies. Ryan & Spencer were basically just messing around in a garage for years. Here's Spencer reminiscing: “I set up my drum kit in my parent’s garage. Ryan would then come over and he’d bring his first little 25 watt amp with him and we’d go from there. We’d cover songs, try and write our own; it was great fun. A couple neighbors came over and complained about the noise... As long as we didn’t play too late, most people were really cool about it." Spencer talked about how they came up with original material that was "20 or 25 songs that were just horrific sounding, just horrible.” Ryan said that “they were some pretty terrible songs!" In late 2003 their band was trying to get into a small local battle of the bands, but meanwhile some of their peers like Kyle Lobeck were in solid bands that were playing actual shows (ex: Brown Eyed Deception). The Summer League wasn't in that scene.

You had so many chances to become a star, But you never really cared about that: Yeah he didn't seek fame itself, but he absolutely cared about the big chances that were presented to P!ATD because being bigger & more famous would allow the band to do what they wanted. So this one is iffy idk.

And all of this is just taking Local God at surface value without looking at the context of where it falls in the album. Viva Las Vengeance was brilliantly done in my opinion. The songs are deliberately arranged to tell a story, and Maggie symbolizes so much. It doesn't make sense to me for Local God to be about Ryan. I mentioned more in this post about how song lyrics are up for interpretation, though, so that's just my opinion.

[davycoquette]

in the old anger

Shiloh as a boy early on in his backstabbystory, playing catch with his younger half-brother, Ryan.

You play catch with Ryan on the height of Ararat with an old baseball. It’s midway through June and your clothes are stuck to your skin and the sun is a pinprick seared into the blanched sky.

Down in a neighbors’ yard, the dog is tied by its termite-eaten house, watching you play while it holds an old stuffed toy in its mouth.

You stop and watch. Its stare is black and beady and torn between rage and longing. Ryan calls your name, but you keep watching the dog.

Tonight you don’t get sleep; you get nightmares.

taggy tag, @saturnine-saturneight ❤

[webbo0]

The Rumble of the Engine

Luke Glanton x AFAB!Reader

Length: 5k words (longest yet!)

Summary: You tease Luke on his beloved Motorcycle, he returns the "favor"

Content/Warning: NSFW!! Teasing, Groping, Fingering, Cunnilingus, Handjob (kinda?), slight Dom/Sub dynamics (?), Smoking (it's Luke so obviously), Improper Use of Motorcycles, Dangerous/reckless driving

Authors Note: Happy Birthday Ryan!!🥳🎉 This is my late contribution to the Goosecord Birthday fanfiction Party (or whatever we're calling this). I've had Luke on the mind as always and figured he'd be perfect for my first attempt at writing smut. Feel free to leave any constructive criticisms you may have, I'm still a new writer

Finally, shout-out to the Goosecord as always! Y'all are amazing people and are always there to help me out, inspire me, or just plain make me happy 💕

Looking back, you knew where you had fucked up. Sure, maybe you brought this all upon yourself, but who could blame you? You dare anyone else to resist the temptation.

You had only met Luke a month or so ago, but you were both infatuated with each other. He’d looked at you, sitting near the tent where he did the death-defying, given you a long, burning once over, winked, and stuck a cigarette in his stupid, crooked smile. His hair was disheveled from his helmet, and with his jacket slung over his shoulder, he was showing off his many trashy tattoos. He honestly looked like kind of an asshole.

You needed him.

You had ended up in his trailer that night, arching your back as he fucked you, making you cum with almost expert precision. His grip on your hips was strong enough to leave bruises, and knowing the transient nature of fair workers, you thought his marks were all you would be left with. But after fucking you within an inch of your life, he had laid with you and almost shyly asked if he could see you again sometime soon.

He would be in town for another three months, and since the fair was only open three days a week and you had a flexible work schedule, you spent plenty of time together, getting to know each other's quirks.

You learned the hard way that Luke was pretty protective of his motorcycle.

You’d been talking (and flirting) behind his tent for a while, just enjoying the night breeze, and, in his case, a smoke. You had gotten a bolt of courage and walked over to the motorcycle he was leaning against and threw a leg over to awkwardly straddle the seat. He’d watched you with an amused smirk as you leaned towards him, his eyes darting to your hands wrapped around the handlebars.

But when you moved your wrist to rev the engine, his hand shot out, gripping you in a steel vice. Your breath hitched as he used his other hand to hold your chin and tilt your head to look him directly in his eyes.

His gaze was piercing, almost harsh, as he quietly murmured something about stressing the engine and hurting the exhaust. You couldn’t follow his words, frozen in place by his sudden intensity.

“Do you get me?” he had asked, thumb stroking your cheek where he still held your face in place. You clenched your thighs together in an attempt to quell the sudden rush of heat to your core.

“Yeah, yeah, I get it,” you had responded, slightly breathless.

Luke had nodded, hands still on you as his eyes roamed your face hungrily. His tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip before he brought you in for a searing kiss. You sighed into his mouth; he tasted strongly of cigarettes and fair food. You brought up the hand not clamped in his grip and threaded your fingers in his hair, deepening the kiss.

Later that night as you writhed under his touch, you made a mental note that this was a dangerous (and fun) button to press with him.

And press it you did.

After that night, you bugged him constantly to teach you how to ride a motorcycle.

“Come on Luke, let me try just once. It’ll be fun!” you ask him one night as you cuddle in bed together.

“My motorcycle is my baby, Beautiful. It’s my only transportation and my only career.”

“I’m not going to wreck it, I just want to drive you around for once.”

He smiled at that, wrapping an arm around you and kissing your forehead.

“But you make such a good backpack!”

“Backpack?!” you almost yelled indigently. He just laughed and kissed you again, this time on your mouth, shutting you up.

But the backpack comment had stuck in your mind. Fine, if he thought you were a backpack, then by God you’d be the “best” backpack you could be.

Luke and his motorcycle had become your primary transportation by now; he drove you to work and back, to dates together, and, memorably once to your dentist,

Ever since his comment, though, you decided to take a more…active role as his backpack.

It started with just wrapping your arms around his torso lower than usual until you were gripping just above his belt. Then, during longer drives, let your hands start to wander; over his biceps, his pecs, and especially his broad thighs.

He gave you a look once you got to your destination, but you brushed him off.

After about a week of consistently groping him, you took a plunge.

You were on a country road, heading down towards the fair, your hands gently caressing his thighs.

As casually as you could, you slid your hand over the crotch of his jeans. You felt him take a deep breath, your chest flush with his back. You waited a minute, letting his breathing settle, then squeezed.

You nearly fell off the seat as Luke jerked his motorcycle before he corrected himself and steadied you both. You kept your hand on his dick until you got to your destination, stopping outside behind his trailer.

He nearly threw himself off the bike, spinning to face you as he took off his helmet.

“Care to explain yourself?” he asked, arching an eyebrow.

You glanced down and saw that he was half-hard, and you had to suppress a smirk.

“Explain what?” you replied, furring your brow to add to the ‘I’m-totally-innocent’ look.

“Your show’s starting soon, better get ready!”

He growled but went inside to throw on his “Handsome Luke” outfit and get ready. He stormed out a few minutes later but stopped to give you a quick kiss. (He swears it’s only for good luck). He leaned down and whispered into your ear.

“Don’t start doing things you’re going to regret”

His erection had gone down, but a fire burned in his eyes. A smile crept onto your face.

“I can deal with the consequences”

He smirked but turned and marched towards the Cage of Death.

You thought for sure he’d get his revenge but he didn’t mention anything after his show that night.

So, not knowing to quit while you’re ahead, you teased him one more time. Actually, more like 3 more times. Each time you would discreetly grope him while you clung to his back, as he shuddered, his breath caught in his chest. And every time you finally got off the bike, you braced for retribution that never came. If you were smarter you would've realized he was just biding his time, waiting for the perfect time to strike.

Which led you to today.

You wake up in his bed, same as you have the past few weeks. He always wakes up first (his sleep schedule is truly terrible), and you usually awake to him blatantly staring at you.

Today however when you blink open your bleary eyes open he has a look on his face you don’t recognize. It was close to amusement, but you couldn’t quite pin it down. He smiles as he notices your eyes creaking open, and the mysterious look disappears, replaced with his usual mix of cockiness, adoration, and mischief.

“D’ya want me to learn how to ride my bike today?”

“Whatever happened to ‘Good Morning’” you grumble, sleep still clinging to your brain. Half a second later you process what he said.

“Wait, really?” Your body shoots up, almost smacking him on the nose. “Yes! Or course! It’s not like I’ve been asking for weeks or anything.”

He snorts a bit at your quick response and stands from the bed.

“I have some shit to do this morning and I know you have a shift too, but I’ll pick you up later tonight, alright?”

You nod and watch him as he dresses, your eyes roaming his muscular and heavily tatted torso. You stretch and get out of bed, already impatient for tonight.

Your work shift seems to last five times longer than usual, anticipation distracting you so badly that you nearly pour salt into someone’s coffee instead of sugar.

Finally, the clock chimes announcing 6 pm. You hurriedly clock out, practically tearing off your apron. You wave goodbye to your coworkers and walk outside to wait for Luke.

He’s already there waiting, leaning against his motorcycle smoking, red jacket slung over one shoulder. The sun is already setting behind him, and the golden light makes his bleach-blonde hair glow, almost like a halo. You smile widely and wave to him as you bound across the parking lot to greet him.

A wide grin creeps onto his face and he plucks the cigarette from his mouth, moving it out of the way to not get ash on you while he leans down to kiss you.

“Hello, Gorgeous, how was work?” He asked you the same question every time he picked you up, knowing you loved telling him all about the funny or infuriating customers you had that day (he would never admit it, but he loved listening to you talk too).

But you have other priorities today.

“Work was good, but I had other things on my mind,” you say in a faux accusatory tone.

He chuckles but hands you the helmet he always brings for you. You grab it and move to sit in the front of the motorcycle, but Luke grabs your arm, stopping you before you can.

“Woah, woah, slow down Baby, I’m not letting you kill all three of us crashing into traffic because you don’t know what you’re doing yet”

“Ok, ok, fi- Wait, all three? You did not just include your bike as a person, Luke.”

“Keep saying things like that and I’ll take back my offer.” He arches an eyebrow, “Now get on. Behind me.”

You wisely shut your mouth and climb on after him, sliding the helmet over your head. You watch the sun get lower and lower in the sky as Luke drives you both outside of town, past his trailer, and to a large clearing behind the fair.

“Smart,” you comment as the bike slows to a halt, “Nothing for me to crash into out here.”

Luke doesn’t say anything, but the mysterious look returns to his face for a moment. He almost looks…predatory? He blinks and it’s gone as fast as it had appeared. Ah, well, you have other things to worry about.

“So, can I sit in the front now?” you’re practically bouncing with excitement.

“You sure can”

You squeal and toss your leg over the back, wobbling before gaining your balance. You don’t grab the handlebars yet; you learned that lesson the hard way.

Luke, instead of standing in front of the bike to give you pointers like you expected, climbs on right behind you. With his chest firmly pressed against your back, he reaches his arms around you, grabbing your hands and bringing them to the handlebars. With a flick of your wrist, the engine roars to life, and three things become immediately apparent to you.

One, the pants you’re wearing are a lot thinner than you thought.

Two, you had neglected to put on underwear this morning in your rush to get ready. On their own, those two facts wouldn't be a problem if not for the third and most pressing issue.

The motor of the motorcycle must be right under the seat, because the vibrations of the engine were going straight to your poorly protected core.

Your breath catches slightly at the sensations, but you hide your reaction well. This would just have to be a distraction you ignored if you wanted to learn anything tonight. Luke either doesn’t notice your reaction or is ignoring it because he starts explaining the controls to you casually. You pay attention the best you can as you feel yourself getting more and more aroused, his voice low in your ear certainly not helping.

You put your feet on the foot holds as he explains how to brake, and then with his urging you bring the motorcycle to a slow crawl forward.

“Good job, Baby” Luke purrs in your ear, the feeling of his breath against your skin makes you shiver, “Just start making small circles to get the feel of it.”

A newfound feeling of confidence surges through you as you carefully maneuver the bike around the field, picking up some speed. The engine rumbles harder every time you rev the throttle and you clench your thighs around the seat, hoping Luke doesn’t notice.

As you gain the feeling for the machine, Luke gives you more pointers, helping you accelerate, brake, and make more complex movements. The whole time his grip never leaves your torso, but you notice he starts to grip you lower and lower. Must be to let me move around better.

Your assumptions are quickly proven wrong though, when while you are cruising along, feeling comfortable driving, one arm slides up to hold you across the chest, pressing him even more firmly against his broad chest. The other hand moves until it's gripping right where your hip meets your thigh. You feel the energy shift.

“You know, people have different reactions to riding a bike for the first time,” his hand on your hip is making small patterns, “Some are afraid, some go overboard with the feeling of power, and some are cool as a cucumber.” You take a deep, unsteady breath as his fingers trail toward your belly button.

“But you,” he continues, hand moving slowly and steadily down your lower stomach, “Are the first person I’ve met to get turned on just from revving the engine.”

You gasp as he cups your crotch, pressing the heel of his palm right against your most sensitive spot. You nearly swerve and fall off the bike, but his arms keep you steady.

“Do you think I didn’t notice those teasing touches you kept doing, did you think I’d just let that slide?” he growls, punctuating his sentence with a slow grind of his hand that makes you let out a low moan.

“Luke I’m, I’m sorry” you gasp out “I- I didn’t mean to-”

“It's a bit too late for forgiveness now, Baby, but it's ok. We’ll make this a learning experience,”

You relax slightly as he removes his hand from your core until he starts toying with the waistband of your pants and you realize how fucked you really are.

”Now you’re going to drive us both home and since you seem to think it’s perfectly fine to tease someone who’s controlling a 400-pound death machine, you clearly won’t mind if I return the favor. You won’t let us crash right?”

You weekly nod in response, resigning yourself to whatever plans he had. Not like you could break out of his grip if you wanted to; his biceps were nearly as big as your thighs.

Revving the engine (and flushing an even deeper shade of red when the vibrations tease you even more), you turn the bike onto the road back to his trailer. You go much slower than he would, as both of your helmets are off.

Luke keeps one hand around your chest, but his other hand slowly creeps below your waistband, heading toward your aching core.

You feel him hum in approval as he realizes you aren’t wearing anything underneath, and his lips brush against your neck. He dips a finger between your folds, feeling the wetness that must’ve soaked through the fabric of your pants by now.

“All this for me? I’m flattered, really”

You whine as he starts to circle your clit slowly and consistently, and his teeth catch on your shoulder. He sucks down on your skin and you know you’ll have a bright red hickey there tomorrow, but you can’t bring yourself to care.

You concentrate on the road the best you can, thankful that there aren’t any stop signs or street lights because you don’t know if you would've noticed them at all. Your breath is coming out ragged, but you hold the bike steady, not wanting to risk crashing.

Luke doesn't let up his assault on your cunt, fingers slowly increasing speed as they tease your sensitive nub. His mouth is trailing along your neck, leaving marks wherever he goes. He touches you with practiced ease and you slowly start to buck into his hand, chasing the pleasure shooting through you.

His arm around you tightens again holding you still, and you whine in frustration.

“Now now, can't have you tipping us over” The amusement in his tone is clear and you huff, annoyed at how much he's enjoying tormenting you. But he just continues his relentless teasing, making you shudder and let out sounds you only made in his bedroom.

After what feels like forever (but is probably only 15 minutes), you pull up behind his trailer. It's a slow day at the fair and he lives on the far end, away from most attractions, but a jolt still goes through your spine at the thought of someone finding you there, helpless to his touch.

You move to get off the bike, but Luke’s grasp keeps you in place, his fingers never faltering.

“Luke,” you pant out, “someone could see u- mmf!” You let out a surprised shout that's muffled by his hand previously around your chest covering your mouth.

“Well then, you better keep that pretty mouth shut for me, right? Wouldn't want everyone knowing how much of a slut you are for me” his voice is harsh in your ear and you let out a drawn-out moan, his words just adding to the fire rushing through your veins.

He pauses his movements and you momentarily think he's finally finished taunting you. His hips shift behind you, pushing your own hips forward a bit. You feel him shudder behind you and realize his crotch is now pressed very tightly against your lower back. You can feel his dick through his sweatpants as he grinds into you, clearly as turned on as you are.

You gasp into his hand, attention brought back to your cunt as he slowly pushes two fingers into you. You're so aroused that he can slide them in with little resistance, your wetness welcoming him. The pads of his fingers are rough from wear, and they feel incredible as he drags them back and forth inside of you.

You can't help the noises that escape you, muffled behind the steady hold of his hand against your mouth. Luke lets out a moan that's more like a rumble deep in his chest as he grinds his cock against you. His thumb returns to your clit, adding to the pleasure building in your center. You jerk forward, the feeling almost too intense for you to handle.

He stops his movements abruptly, pulling his hand out of your pants. You nearly sob in frustration. He turns your head to look you in the eye, hand still over your mouth. His pupils are so blown that the blue of his eyes is nearly gone. He looks ravenous.

“Are you starting to learn your lesson?”

You nod quickly, and he smirks.

“Good. But I'm not finished with you,”

Luke brings the hand that was just buried deep inside you to his mouth, sucking your juices off. He lets out a moan at your taste and you feel lightheaded. His fingers leave his mouth with a pop and you wish they were back in you.

“Now, we're going to go back inside my trailer and I'm going to finish what you started. And maybe if you're good, I'll let you cum, ok?”

You nod your head again, desperate to feel him again. He takes his hand off your mouth and you let out a loud breath, nearly panting.

He gets off the bike and holds out his hand to help you. You're shaky and unsteady, but you dismount without issue. The last thing you want to do is feel his wrath if you knock it over. He brings your face to his for a passionate kiss. You sigh into him as his hand threads through your hair to deepen the kiss, opening your lips to let his tongue explore your mouth.

Luke breaks the kiss and searches your face, looking for any sign he was going too far. You smile at him and bite your lip, letting him know you are A-OK with everything happening. His face softens for a moment and he smiles a crooked smile back at you, before the hungry look returns to his eyes and he tugs you up the stairs of his trailer.

You both get in as he shuts the door, already shedding his torn-up shirt. You tear off your clothes and clamber onto his bed. He stalks towards the bed, and nearly pounces on you as he climbs on after you, legs between yours as he holds his body above you.

He dips his head down to kiss you as his hands greedily roam your body, nails scraping slightly as he trails them over you. You moan into his mouth as one hand grabs your chest, kneading into the skin. He flicks your nipple, making you gasp and arch your back.

“God you’re gorgeous like this,” he murmurs as his gaze travels song your naked form, “I could keep you here like this for hours”

You keen at his words, your hands wrapped around his torso to keep him pressed against you, hoping he forgets about his ‘revenge plans’.

No such luck though, as he grabs your wrists with one hand and pins them above your head.

“It’s time you learned a little lesson about touching, so here’s how this is going to go; I’m going to enjoy myself and make you feel good, while you keep your hands right here the whole time, understand?”

You whine but nod, not trusting yourself to say anything that might wind him up more. He knows how much you love to touch him; running your hand through his hair, scraping your nails against his back, or just tracing each of his many tattoos. This was going to be hard.

Luke releases his grip on your wrists, and you dutifully keep them above your head. He smiles a dangerous smile.

“Good job, Baby.”

He kisses you one last time before he sits up and crawls off the bed. He leans forward to grab your hips and you yelp in surprise as he drags you to the end of the bed, your legs hanging off the edge. He moves forward until his still-clothed crotch presses onto your sensitive cunt, making you shiver. You move your hips, grinding on his dick that was so hard it must’ve been painful. He groans, but grabs your waist, pinning it still.

He leans down and kisses right in the center of your chest, then starts trailing his way down your torso, kissing and nipping at your skin as he does so. You let out breathy moans and sighs as his lips leave marks all over you, but keep your hands still, resisting the urge to touch him.

As he gets to your lower stomach, Luke kneels down, hands still gripping your hips. He shifts his attention to your inner thighs, bruising the sensitive skin beneath his teeth. You’re trembling, trying to maintain some form of composure as you feel yourself getting wetter and wetter.

Finally, he stops and you let yourself catch your breath before you feel the tip of his nose bump against your pubic bone. You look down and your breath hitches when you see him staring up at you, desire glaringly obvious in his eyes. Every instinct inside of you wants to reach down and tangle your fingers in his beautiful blonde hair, but the last coherent part of your mind resists.

That last fragment of coherence leaves you immediately though, when he sticks his tongue out and licks a long stripe up your folds. You throw your head back and let out a low groan as he steadily moves his tongue over your aching center with expert precision. For a man with such a tough exterior, you were always shocked at how softly Luke speaks, and equally as shocked at how adept he was using his mouth.

You’re lost in the feeling of his mouth working you closer and closer to your release when he latches onto your clit and sucks. Your gasp is cut off with a cry as he pushes two thick fingers into you again, curling them into the spot he knows will make you see stars. Your back arches and you reach down to grab his blonde locks, trying to steady yourself any way you can.

Luke removes his mouth from you and tsks, then bites down hard on the inside of your thigh. You almost sob, needing to touch him so badly you could cry, but you release your grip on him and reluctantly put your arms above you again.

He hums, satisfied, and goes back to sucking on your clit making you whimper. He adds a third finger pumping in and out of your glistening pussy, and you can practically feel his smirk when you attempt to clench your thighs close around him.

He hums again, and the vibrations on your sensitive nub combined with the precision of his fingers inside of you is too much to bear.

“Luke it’s- it’s too much,” You’re gasping with every breath, the tension in your core about to explode “I’m- I’m gonna-”

“Shhhh, it’s ok Baby, you’re doing so good for me. Let me hear those gorgeous sounds; I want to taste you as you cum for me.”

His soft words, combined with his mouth returning to suck on your clit and his fingers curling inside you finally tip you over the edge, the tension coiled in your lower stomach exploding across your body. You cum with a loud moan, crying out for Luke as you do. His fingers and mouth don’t stop, working you through the aftershocks until it becomes overstimulating and you tap the side of his head for mercy.

Luke withdraws from between your legs, carefully pulling out his fingers and giving your pussy one last kiss before he stands. You’re still catching your breath as you watch him, looking pointedly at his crotch.

He still has sweatpants on, and they do nothing to hide his achingly hard dick or the wet patch that's formed by the tip. You bite your lip, wanting to return the favor.

“That looks painful. Need a hand with it?” You sit up and move a hand to cup his dick, but his hand darts out and stops your wrist before you can make contact.

“I thought we learned a lesson on not touching without permission, hmm?”

You pout, but put your hand down to your side.

‘What, you’re just going to ignore that then?”

Luke chuckles but lets out a small gasp when his dick twitches, still confined in the fabric of his pants.

“I’m going to take care of this all by myself, and you’re going to sit there and look pretty while I cum all over you, sound good?”

He’s saying it as a question, but the dark look in his eyes when you tilt your head up to look at him lets you know there’s no making him budge on this. You swallow thickly and nod.

“Good, now just sit still and let me look at you,”

Luke pushes his waistband down, finally freeing his dick. He’s harder than you’ve ever seen him, steadily leaking precum from the flushed head of his cock. He uses the hand previously inside of you to slowly stroke his length, coating himself in your slick. You let out a small moan at the sight, wishing you were enveloping him, not his hand.

He increases the speed of his strokes, eyes roaming your naked form. He’s muttering words under his breath that you can barely hear, but you catch a snippet.

“...so gorgeous, so good for me, God, I love seeing you all fucked-out and wrecked like this…”

You notice his panting getting faster and his movements becoming erratic, as he approaches his climax.

“It’s ok, cum for me, Luke” You copy his soft tone, coaxing him over the edge.

He gasps out your name, eyebrows furrowed and teeth gritted as he cums with a growl, shooting his release all over your chest and stomach. You hum in approval, letting him calm down and catch his breath.

He tucks himself back into his pants, leans down to plant a kiss on your forehead, and then disappears into the bathroom. You collapse back onto the bed, exhaustion creeping into your bones. He returns after a minute with a damp washcloth and bends over to clean you up. You try to sit up to help him but he gently presses his hand against your chest, keeping you down.

“Shh, it’s ok. Let me take care of you.”

You’re more than glad to let Luke take the lead, unsure if your legs could even support you if you tried to stand. He finishes wiping you clean, taking extra care to be gentle around your now overly sensitive cunt. When he’s done he sets the cloth aside and kicks off his boots (has he really been wearing them the whole time?).

He crawls into bed next to you, bringing an arm around your shoulder to pull you closer onto his chest. You gladly curl into him, happy that you can finally feel him against you. You let out a yawn, the long day and energetic evening finally catching up with you. Luke presses another kiss onto your forehead.

“So, did we learn our lesson?” he asks, his tone soft and lighthearted. You giggle and snuggle closer, your eyelids drooping.

“Not sure, might have to teach me a couple more times.”

Luke snorts out a laugh and starts tracing little patterns on your shoulder with his thumb. You drift off to sleep in his arms, dreaming of motorcycles, the smell of cigarettes, and the love of your life holding your hand.

[fuckzachariah]

xvi. hell is where i dreamt of u and woke up alone ; @aleburton

When Zach came to two days later, the world was too loud before he'd even opened his eyes to face it. The pain was unbelievable. His head pounded, he was so dehydrated his organs felt shrunken, and there wasn't a spot on his body he could feel that didn't scream at him. There was beeping, shuffling feet, flipping papers and idle chatter, the light searing through his thin lids overhead. His heart dropped; he remembered it all at once. Or, at least, what he'd been awake for. He hoped Alex had blacked out the same moment he had, he prayed to a God he didn't have that she wasn't hurt. He shot bolt upright, eyes flying open, a tube popping from a vein somewhere. "Zach! Jesus, fuck-" Ryan flew across the room to him, pressing a button on the way to call a nurse. "Alex-" he croaked, panic swelling in him. "She's okay. She's alive, anyway." Zach's eyes filled with tears, the gravity of it all coming crushing down on him so suddenly it felt like a heart attack. Alex leaving, his mom, the baby, Zach almost killing them both for it all. "What the fuck," he rasped helplessly, his head falling into his hands. His body shook with the anguish. "What the fuck." Ryan had never seen him break like this before. He wrapped his slumped form into an embrace and held him in silence as he sobbed until the nurse came in.

He was held in the hospital for weeks. He needed surgery on his skull fracture, internal injuries and spinal cord damage. His whiplash, concussion and broken ribs could only be healed with time. When he was awake between high doses of pain killers and anaesthetics, he remained almost religiously silent, inverting in on himself in a way he hadn't previously considered possible. He could think of a million ways to kill himself, and took comfort in them constantly, but he knew he couldn't act on them. Even if Alex never spoke to him again, she didn't deserve that. And what was his life for now if not ensuring he never caused her pain again after all the pain it was too late to take back? And then there was the kid. When he wasn't fantasizing about his own violent end, he thought of the unborn child and what he could possibly fucking do to save it. The rest of the time, he just wished he was high. The opioids helped.

Kylie saw the news about his crash and insisted on coming to see him, even after he begged her not to. Even after the begging got mean. She cried in silence and held his hand while he barely kept his eyes open through the drug-haze, muttering into his knuckles that she wished she'd said anything else but what she did. If he was conscious enough, he'd tell her it didn't matter what she said. She could've come to the house and used her body as a barrier, but he still would've done what he was going to do. If she was going to be around, this was the first lesson she had to learn. Zach would do whatever the fuck he wanted to do, even when he pleaded with himself to take someone else's advice for once. He would always do the wrong thing no matter who had to pay for it. No matter what the price was. But he wasn't conscious enough to utter a single intelligible word. She would have to learn the hard way.

Because Alex wouldn't talk to him, he tried to needle Eden for wellness checks on her. The guilt was like nothing else in the world. It crushed him until he could throw up from the pressure. He'd never felt so much like he'd died without dying. All he could do was count down the days until his body worked well enough that he could leave and destroy it all over again. Mania spiked. He'd kill himself one way or another, intentional or not. One of the worst, the hardest, things to face had been Amanda. She wasn't angry like Peter, wasn't disgusted like his mother. She was heartbroken. She cried and held his hands and spoke to him in a low voice, and he was so fucking sick of seeing people cry and holding their hands when he'd been the one to fuck them up. The guilt. The guilt was just incredible.

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As it turned out, his old tricks worked a treat. Kind of. Zach was only certain this time that he was heading towards an end: his body would shut down of its own accord, unable to persist through all he forced it to endure any longer. It would, one day, simply refuse. And that would be that - he would be blameless in the crime of his death. In the meantime, he put on a good show. Non-sobriety was his new normal, his old normal. He couldn't be conscious for more than a few minutes without itching for something to snatch it all away, and he was conscious most of the time, sleep evading him like a game of cat and mouse. He sank back into Aubrey's bed and only ever hung out with Luke and Sarah, ignoring anything good; his revived career, his something-or-other with Kylie, his relationship with Amanda. Even Ryan was neglected. If he was lucky, death would bite him before the kid was born, and he wouldn't be around to feel the guilt of it at all.

The clubs were as good as home. They all blurred into one; he rarely left them. Only to shower, change, then go back out again. Zach was flat out against a club wall, the paper sweating with condensation and bleeding through his shirt, Aubrey's tending to the beads of sweat forming on his neck with her tongue. She always waited, waited, until he was fucked up enough to let her back in; she'd once been an advocate for his recovery, but once she saw the crack in the surface she could filter in through, she pried it open two-fisted. He groaned, the sensation pleasant but dull behind the charge of all the drugs and the predictability. He could be on any number of pills and powders, accepting most that was given to him and never sobering up from the night before. Once he'd grown bored, he took her by the throat and pried her away, eyes scanning over her shoulder for Luke and Sarah. He found them, leading Aubrey over. Tasha came up behind them, slick and hazy-eyed from her own rendezvous elsewhere.

They came into one on the dance floor. He liked the dance floor. The music too loud, free to move and have others move against him and not say or be obligated to do a fucking thing. His head fell back, face at the mercy of the neon lights, hands on the slight waist of someone. He forgot who. But when he looked down, he was sort of tickled to see Sarah, her own head lolling back against his chest, mouth popped open, her hips swilling in time with his. He'd never really considered her like this; compromised, uninhibited, someone who might cheat on her boyfriend with him. Once, Sarah would've been entirely off-limits to him. Now, he didn't really give a fuck. He leaned down, into her ear. "This is new," he muttered, his voice shot from all the powder in his throat. She smiled lazily, not opening her eyes. "Fuck Luke," she answered, resolute. It surprised him. She'd endured so much bullshit over the years - what was the end of her tether? Her gaze wandered and his followed, and in a darkened booth, Tasha and Aubrey sat either side of Luke, legs hooked over both his thighs, tongues disappearing up behind his respective ears. Zach's eyebrows jumped.

"Fuck Luke," he agreed heartily. It was flagrant and disrespectful in a way Luke had always avoided when hurting Sarah in the past. Luke had thrown himself into Zach's self-destruction with wholehearted enthusiasm; if the superstar could fall from grace, he could too. He was always looking for an excuse to do something fucked up, to ruin everything, and Zach had seemingly given him the green light. A flash of an opportunity presented itself to Zach; something bad enough that it could make him feel alive for more than a few seconds. So he touched Sarah in a way he was sure she'd never been touched before. His hand over her stomach, hips, waist, pressing down and following a pattern he'd learned on a girl he couldn't even think the name of without wanting to throw up. His other wreathed her lithe throat until she spun on the spot on her pin-heels to face him, and her head tipped back to find his eyes. "Fuck Luke," she mumbled again, Zach's thumb already finding its way into her mouth as his thigh slotted between hers and pushed. She whined at the friction. "Whatever you say, baby."

Then something caught his eye. Through the sea of bodies, for just a split second, he was absolutely positive of what he saw. The girl from the night of the crash, almost a foot above the other girls; her sharp, slender eyes and permanently rude mouth scanning the room. He wasn't prepared to sacrifice the promise of fucking Sarah just yet; the moral disaster promised to be too sweet, too good of a distraction from the rest of his guilt. So he didn't abandon her. "Hang on," he murmured, leading her to the edge of the dance floor. He couldn't fucking believe it. Luke, Aubrey and Tasha stood talking to the two of them; the girl and Alex. Alive, no visible injuries, so fucking devastating he wished he'd died that night so he didn't have to see her, now. "Oh, fucking hell," Sarah said. "Absolutely, fucking hell," Zach reiterated.