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ghostybaby000 · 19 hours

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Never Yours | Part 2

Part 1

Pairing: Simon Ghost Riley x reader

Summary: He had seen blood hundreds of times before, but never from you. He didn’t know what to expect while listening to your cry’s on the phone praying you wouldn’t lose consciousness.

Part one posted above to start this read!

Word count: 1.7k

Warnings: violent theme, weaponry use, blood, symptoms of panic

Tag List: @yyiikes @talooolaaloolla (not fully edited, apologies for any inconsistencies!)

He wanted so badly to look at you more thoroughly, but knew that the hospital would be able to help you faster. He felt as if his heart had entirely stopped, and that the world was moving at speeds beyond light. The car screeched to a halt outside the emergency room as he tore the door open to the car, again picking you up as gently as he could, trying his best to ignore the wetness of your blood covering his hands and in your hair. Leaving the car and the prying eyes outside the building he shut the door with his foot and turned to head inside. He couldn’t hear anyone around him, as he pushed through people in beds and wheelchairs yelling out for help, making it to the front desk.

‘I-I need someone to help her.’ He was out of breath now from yelling, the adrenaline not letting his brain calm in the slightest.

The woman at the desk stood up immediately and upon seeing the blood coming from the shirt and the person he was holding and called for help.

‘Put her down here-‘ The woman pulled a bed out of a room nearby and rolled it to his side.

He couldn’t let you go. He looked over your eye lids and watched your lips, those delicate pink lips-his jaw clenched as he looked down to the bed. He had told himself to put you down and let them take you, to help you to make you better. His muscles wouldn’t let the weight of you go, he didn’t want to be away from you again-

‘Sir, please we can get her into an OR. Put her down.’ The woman’s gentle but stern voice breaking his thoughts as he forced himself to gently set you down. He heard the air come from your lungs as he entirely let go, you were being rushed away from him and there was nothing more he could do.

It had felt like the minutes were taking hours to pass by as he waited, his panic never leaving him. After 3 or so hours his mind forced him to think about the events and what he could do. He knew that something had gone bad from the start with the markings on the door and the bathroom being beaten in, and called the only people he knew to call in a moment like this.

‘She’s getting help now mate, that’s what matters.’ Prices voice rang through the phone, not that Simon was listening much. He was pacing the small waiting room on the trauma floor while rubbing his hands over his face only to wipe them on his pants to rid of his sweat.

‘I-I should of been there.’ His breathing stammering, his voice hoarse from yelling through the house and the emergency room.

‘You got her there and now she’s getting help, you have to focus on that.’

Simon took a moment to sit in the chair in the room, only to stand again and resume his pacing. He had tried to explain what he had seen to Price, although the thoughts were fading and blurring as he tried to recall the details. He walked into the bathroom and saw you laying in a small pool of blood, a blade handle coming out of your abdomen. Your eyes shut as you lay motionless, unresponsive to him picking you up or yelling your name. The phone near the tub with your blood smeared on it, and your fragile face cut and bruised down and across the neck.

He now looked down to his free hand at the blood that had stained it, quickly looking away and pushing his hand in his pocket. A spark of rage had been ignited inside of him at the thought of someone doing this. Rage that was unlike any other he had known for himself, though for now it was tamed by the feeling of panic and concern for you-which came above all else. Recalling it made him feel sick again as he heard the voice in the phone once more speaking to him.

‘We’re going to do all that we can from our end, and I promise you-you will hear anything that we get over here. You need to stay put and wait for-‘ The line went dead as Simon ended the call. The doctor was headed to the waiting room and as he stopped pacing to face him, he spoke.

‘Are you Simon Riley?’ Simon was trying to read his expression for any indicator to your wellbeing before remembering to respond.

‘Yes that’s me- how is she. How is Y/N?’ His breath was caught in his chest with anticipation as he stared daggers into the doctor’s eyes.

The man in the white recognized Simons panic and lowered his clip board, to look and speak to him directly.

‘She’s stable.’ Simons entire body felt a surge of momentary relief as he sat down into a nearby chair, letting the breath he had been holding escape. The doctor gave him a moment to breathe before continuing to speak.

‘It wasn’t an easy surgery by any means.’ Simons eyes shot up to meet the mans-he had never been so focused, the concern again rising in his mind as the doctor continued.

‘She’s going to need quite some time to recover after this, were you injured at all?’ The doctor looked over his blood stained shirt and hands. Simon protested that he was fine and that he had found you and not been involved in the incident. He accepted this response for the time being and began to talk about the procedure using terms that Simon didn’t entirely understand. He wasn’t listening to all of the details and complexions of the things they were doing to you, it had only made himself feel worse.

The doctor tried to ask about the situation that caused it or how it had happened- questions that he couldn’t think to answer. As he had seen it many times before, the doctor gave Simon time, telling him that she would hopefully be able to have visitors in a few hours.

Before leaving, the doctor added that if he wanted to, Simon could leave a phone number to contact him for when she was ready, and he had the option to leave until then. He wouldn’t move. He didn’t go to the bathroom, he didn’t eat, he didn’t drink until he was able to see you. He found himself staring at a movie playing, not taking in anything that was happening but distracting himself from the situation. The movie had ended and begun another as he felt his eyes begin to close, he heard the distant voice of a man that awoke him instantly.

‘Simon?’ He shot up out of the chair he had been in trying to locate who was talking to him, his heart jumping to an alarming rate. He spun around to find that same doctor as before was again coming towards him, his breath was caught in his throat.

‘I found it important to update you myself on Y/N. There was a complication with one of her sutures after we had gotten her closed up, she’s lost quite a bit of blood tonight and we-‘

‘Is she alright?’ Simon’s body had gone practically numb, his low gruff voice almost yelling out of his chest. He wasn’t able to be patient anymore, he wasn’t able to give the time to wait even to finish a sentence to hear if you were okay. His eyes again staring into the doctors, flickering between the two.

‘She’s just about stable again, but she won’t be seeing anyone for a few more hours at least. Whatever it was that happened put a lot of stress on her body, more than we anticipated.’ The doctor paused for Simon to add any input he had on the situation to the conversation, but to no avail.

Simon had been standing to speak to the doctor and when told it would be a longer wait, again planted himself in the chair. This time his arms sitting on his legs he let his head fall between his knees, his adrenaline coming back to him. Listening to the beat of his heart pound in his head, moments later he felt a light tap on his shoulder breaking his trance, looking up to see a white cone cup the doctor was handing him. He looked past the man at first to the water machine, then taking it into his own hands.

He thanked the doctor for updating him as he nestled again into the chair that held him up as he waited through the night. He didn’t care how long it took, as long as he would be able to see you. He finished another movie, not bothering with anything that was happening as people came in and out of the waiting room, or as people scurried by to get to another wing of the hospital. Spending most of the night pacing the small room or sitting and bouncing his leg, thanking the passing nurses who came to check on him seeing his blood ridden shirt. Although not by his choice, exhaustion forced his body to slip into a light sleep, one that he was fond of when on duty. The next morning he jolted awake as a nurse tapped lightly on his arm.

‘Y/N is asking to see you in room 412, you are Simon Riley aren’t you?’ She stepped back from the large man that had made such sudden movements, only to point down the hall to where the room was.

Without another word he got up and practically sprinted to room 412 leaving any bit of exhaustion in the chair, only slowing to move past doctors and other patients being transported.

He didn’t want anything to keep you from him-yet, he found himself still as stone when trying to move for the door handle to your room. His heart was beating faster than he thought possible as he pulled in a shaking breath and felt the cold metal of the handle. He pushed open the door and walked in the room where he saw you again. This time bandaged and wrapped in blankets, but alive.

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traffic-was-a-b1tch · 2 days

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anthem of the heart

(jake kiszka x reader) 18+

summary: you and your best friend move into a new apartment after college, wanting a fresh start in nashville. however, you come to find that your neighbors are musicians. very loud musicians who like to keep you up at night. especially one, who likes to bother you on purpose. you would hate him… if he wasn’t so hot.

warnings for overall series: eventual SMUT!!!, angst, mentions of past abuse (not jake), abuse (not jake), mentions of past sexual assault (not jake), sexual assault (not jake), enemies to lovers, cursing, let me know if I missed any. (i’m still making this series up as I go along so it might change)

warnings for this chapter: SMUT, unprotected p in v (WRAP IT UP), oral (m rec), dom!jake, jealous jake 😩, katoptronophilia (mirror kink), breeding kink (if you squint), spanking, kissing, cursing, let me know if I missed any!

author’s note: heyyyy! sorry for the long wait! I was on a small road trip with some friends so I took a break! although, I think this installment will be worth it ;). thank you again for all the love on this series! let me know if you would like to be added to the tag list! as always, please feel free to give me feedback, requests, comments, etc. enjoy!!!

• • •

Chapter Nine:

you were ecstatic.

you practically skipped out of the building and down the street. you were so happy nothing could ruin it.

immediately you called kaylee (because bros before hoes) and told her.

“NO. FUCKING. WAY!!!! i’m so happy for you!!! ok, we’re definitely celebrating tonight!!!”

you laughed and agreed before hanging up to text jake.

“guess what? I got the job!!!”, you sent.

you put your phone away and started walking to the parking garage.

almost immediately, you got a text back.

“I knew you would.”

you were unable to contain the smile that grew on your face. then another text came in.

“proud of you.”

your heart skipped a beat and you felt like flying.

getting in your car, you turned it on and buckled your seatbelt. then you screamed, pushing all your happiness to exit your soul. you screamed till you lungs got tight and there was no more air to be released. it wasn’t going to work, though. you just accepted that you were going to feel amazing today.

you drove home listening to oldies and drumming your fingers on the wheel. your joy was infectious and you were so excited to get home and relax before celebrating.

you raced inside your apartment building and nearly sprinted up the stairs to your floor. as soon as you opened your front door, kaylee was running to you. she grabbed your hands and you both jumped up and down screaming excitedly.

“you have got to tell me EVERYTHING!” she was using her squeaky, high voice.

just as you were opening your mouth to speak, an electric guitar cut you off. the riff was fast and sharp. it cut through the air and straight into your brain when you realized that it was are you gonna be my girl by jet.

you grinned and kaylee knew immediately what was going on.

“ughhh, you can tell me later. go see what mr. hendrix wants.”

you squeezed her hands, silently thanking her and promising you’d be fast.

you didn’t even get to knock before the door swung open, and you saw him.

jake stood there in front of you playing the last few notes of the song. you smiled at him, loving watching him play for you. he finished and looked up to smirk at you.

“hi, stranger”, you teased as you walked right by him and into the apartment.

he closed the door, shaking his head and simpering. he almost threw his guitar off and to the side as he made his way to you.

he sprinted over to you and tackled you in a hug. you wrapped your arms around his neck and he moved you in closer by your waist. you couldn’t help but squeal in delight as he lifted you off the ground and spun you in a circle.

jake let you back down and pulled away to look you in the eyes.

“congratulations!” he beamed at you. “this is amazing for you.”

“I know, thank you!”

“aaaaand…”, he trailed. “I have news too.”

you raised your eyebrows, eager to know.

“the band booked a set at the basement.”

“the basement?”, you questioned.

“a rock bar not far from here. it’s known for making local talent into household names.” his eyes were lighting up just talking about this event. you could tell it was something he had been waiting for.

“what? that’s so so great! what time tonight?”

“8”, he smiled from ear to ear. but then he backtracked a little, “well, you don’t have to come if you don’t want to. you’ve had a big day and I would completely understand if you wanted to stay home and relax-“

“jake, stop. of course i’m coming. my roommate, kaylee, and I were planning on going to celebrate anyway.” you grinned at him, showing that you meant every word you were saying.

“and plus”, you added, “kaylee hasn’t seen you play yet. she’s only heard it through the wall.”

you both laughed, and you instantly realized you wanted to hear his laugh on repeat for the rest of your life.

“let’s hope she’ll come around to it”, he encouraged, eyes locked on you.

you got butterflies.

“so”, he began, “see you at 8?”

“i’ll be there”, you leaned in and kissed him. then, pulling away, added, “baby.”

his blush crept up on his cheeks, at a loss for words. it was finally time for you to leave him speechless.

you backed up and turned, leaving his apartment with a small sway of your hips.

now to get ready to celebrate.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

a couple hours later, you were just finishing up your makeup and dabbing a little more glitter on your eyes. you were going for a heavier look tonight: a bit of contour, blush, a smoky eye with glitter, and a swipe of black honey on your lips. you paired this makeup with a sparkly black party dress and black strappy kitten heels.

you looked damn good.

it was very much a bar look; seductive and darker than you would normally go. but you wanted to let loose tonight. and as much as you wanted to dress up for jake, you wanted to make sure that this night was mainly in celebration of the accomplishments you had made in your career.

as well as the perfect outfit and makeup, you made sure to put work into your hair. you wanted it to look freshly blown out, so you were fluffing it up with some product.

“hey, you ready to go?”, kaylee called to you from the living room.

“yep, i’m ready!” you met her out there, still messing with your hair.

“oh, honey”, she took in your appearance. “it’s perfect. you look amazing.”

“thank you!”, you replied giddily. “now let’s go!”

the drive to the bar was full of you and kaylee singing to the radio. you were both horrible at singing but loved belting your favorite pop songs.

after you both finished screaming one of your favorites, you turned down the radio and asked her a question.

“hey, did anything ever happen with aaron?”

you had been so caught up with your own love life that you had completely forgotten about kaylee’s. she had had one serious boyfriend in college, tom, but ever since they broke up a year ago, she’s been enjoying one night stands. aaron was one of the moving guys who became her latest one night stand.

“nope”, she popped the ‘p’ harshly. “just another player who left before I could wake up.”

you reached over from the drivers seat and squeezed her hand, “aww i’m so sorry, kay.”

she scoffed and looked at you, “I just need a quiet type, you know? one that wants to take me on picnic dates and walks on the beach. someone who thinks flowers aren’t ‘too expensive’.”

that last jab was directed at tom because of what he told her when she asked why he never got her flowers. but then again, you expected that from him. you always had a bad feeling about him.

“one that won’t leave you in the middle of a movie to go get drunk with his friends at a strip club?” you were referring to an infamous incident that tom did.

she glared at you, “exactly. someone completely different than him. different than all the other dumbass dicks that I attract. someone sweet and caring.”

you agreed. there was nobody you wanted to see kaylee with than a sweet guy who treated her like the queen she was.

you pulled into the bar and parked in the back. the prominent ‘The Basement’ sign adorned the front and made you antsy. the reality of being out again was intoxicatingly fun. it had been at least 6 months since you went out with kaylee, so this was long overdue.

you entered the front door, taking in the buzz of neon signs that made the whole place glow with blue and red.

it was definitely a rock bar. the energy that seeped from every crevice of this place was edgy to say the least. but you liked it, a lot.

it didn’t take you long to spot jake and the rest of the boys setting up on the stage.

jake was clad in some dark jeans, a nice belt, and a dark blue button up with the sleeves rolled up. the fact that it was a button up was ironic because only a few buttons were connected, leaving his chest open to show the many chains and medallions that dangled from his neck. he also had some chelsea boots and rings on. he was stunning.

you would’ve waved, but he was currently concentrated on the wires connecting to his guitar pedal. he hadn’t seen you yet, so you decided to let him be and go get a drink.

the bar was starting to fill steadily, so you were surprised that you found such good seats at the bar. they were directly across from the stage, giving you a perfect view of the band. you quickly claimed them and got the bartender’s attention to order yourself a vodka redbull.

you were gonna get fucking blitzed tonight.

kaylee ordered a coke. you had begged her to drink with you, promising to uber there and back so you wouldn’t have to worry about a dd. but she declined, saying that she wanted to personally look after you tonight. you had grumbled but ultimately agreeing and trusting her judgment. the bartender returned with your drinks, shooting you both a wink.

just then, that all too familiar guitar strum pierced through the chatter of the bar. they were all set up and about to start. you were almost shaking in excitement. if this was going to be anything like what you heard in the studio with them, you were eager to see everyone else’s reaction to their talent.

josh grabbed the microphone, “how we feeling tonight?”

there was scattered applause and you whooped a little to show more support. hearing your voice, jake’s ears perked up and started scanning the bar.

he found you after a second and you could see him suck in a breath. his eyes dragged up and down your body as you sat there in your short dress, legs crossed and straw in between your plump lips.

he grinned and shook his head slightly, looking up.

josh swatted jake on the arm, signaling him to be ready for his cue. josh got close to the microphone again, announcing, “we’re greta van fleet.”

a beat.

“do it jakey”, josh whispered.

with that, jake squatted and started to play a booming riff. he locked eyes with you as he played, making you squirm in your seat.

the riff was so good it urged you to tap your foot. the beat was slowly growing heavier, the drums getting louder. it was building, building, building. then, the drums pounded once and jake played the final part of the riff, allowing josh to erupt in sound.

his voice was raspy and unique, making people’s eyes get wide.

“oohhhhhhhhhhhhhh mama.”

kaylee shot you a shocked look, shouting over the music, “this is crazy good.”

you smiled and agreed.

“we’re stopping at the green light, girl, cause I wanna get your signal.”

as josh sang, you focused on everyone else in the room. they were starting to nod their heads and get into the groove. you were so proud of jake in this moment, seeing all his work making other people happy.

you glanced back at him, meeting his eyes, and smiled big.

“ooohhhh, sugarrr”, josh finished.

the crowd went crazy. a wave of applause flooded the room, your clapping being the loudest.

“thank you very much”, josh began. “we feeling better now?”

the crowd roared a bit more and josh laughed. off to the side, you could see jake switching his electric for an acoustic and you were intrigued. “that was a song we call highway tune. and now, as a treat, we’re going to play a new song that will be on our upcoming ep. this is flower power.”

you instantly remembered that this was one of the songs you had helped them with and became ready to listen intently. not that you expected them to utilize your advice, you knew your place as a non-musician who probably didn’t know best, but you were buzzed to see what they had done with it.

the acoustic melody started, immersing you in the energy of the song. you swayed and hummed to it.

then your cheeks started to heat up as jake moved closer to the mic, and made eye contact with you again.

“she is a lady comes from all around”

his voice was just as good as you remembered hearing this morning. it was sweet but deep, and it ignited a fire in between your legs. you tried not to be too obvious about it, squeezing your legs together, and kept your eyes on jake as he sang.

in that moment, you felt like it was just you and jake in that bar. jake playing and singing just for you. just what you had been begging him not to do a few days ago.

it’s crazy how much can change in so little time.

it was so beautiful but fleeting.

as soon as the first verse was done, jake stepped back and let josh resume the rest of the song. you tried not to let the slight disappointment linger on your face. you did love josh’s voice too.

the next few songs flew by in a wave of guitar and drums. before you knew it, josh was waving his hand and saying, “thank you for having us. we’re greta van fleet, goodnight!”

you realized then that you had never knew the name of their band before tonight. greta van fleet. you liked it a lot.

you and kaylee gushed about how good the performance was while the boys loaded their equipment back up.

after a good amount of time and 2 drinks down, they all approached you.

you instantly wrapped your arms around jake, whispering, “you guys were amazing.” you pulled back and added to the rest of the boys too, “just truly incredible! the performance was unreal.”

they all expressed their thanks at once, smiling wide.

you went back to jake’s ear, hugging him again, “so proud.”

he squeezed you harder and you giggled.

his mouth found your ear and murmured, “what’s really unreal is this fucking dress. good god baby, did you want me to have a heart attack on stage?”

you laughed, pulling away, and nodded, biting your lip.

you weren’t gonna lie, you were a little tipsy and it was making him that much more irresistible.

but then he turned to introduce himself to kaylee. she scanned him up and down, giving him a look, “so you’re the one that’s been giving her trouble?”

jake winked, “the one and only.”

she shook her head, smiling and softly saying, “oh lord.”

you stepped forward and pointed at each of the guys, “jake, josh, sam, and danny, this is my roommate, kaylee.”

she waved and greeted them with a “hello, nice to meet y’all.”

danny was first to speak up, “sorry for all the noise.”

kaylee laughed, “apology accepted after that performance.”

“thank you, thank you. it seems like the crowd liked it.” danny’s eyes fixed on kaylee in a way you recognized quickly.

“it was great! so, you play the drums?”

their conversation kept going easily and the look on both of their faces led you to believe it was going to continue for a while.

you turned back to the bar, getting the bartenders attention and ordering one more drink.

“of course, little miss,” the bartender sweet talked.

jake’s arm snaked around your waist, pulling you close. you looked up at him and found that a tinge of hardness had poisoned his face.

was he… jealous?

the bartender returned with your drink and you thanked him. he grinned at you, but then caught jake’s glare and slowly backed away and left. jake’s grip on your waist had gotten tighter and you could definitely tell now.

he was pissed.

he grabbed your drink and set it on the bar, taking your hand and muttering, “let’s go.”

he pulled you through the place and to a back corner where the restrooms were. he flung you in one, and you quickly became thankful that it was a private bathroom with no stalls.

he locked the door and, without another word, attacked your mouth. his lips closed around yours as his hands found the back of your head to hold you there.

then his one of his hands gripped your hair and pulled, exposing your neck. his mouth moved down to litter your neck in hickeys and his other hand groped your breast. you breathed heavily, feeling overstimulated in the best way.

he broke away, the hand that was on your boob now moved to close around your neck gently; just enough to hold pressure and get your attention. meanwhile, the hand in your hair moved in between your legs and he growled in satisfaction when he felt that you had forgone panties tonight. his skilled fingers swiped through your folds, gathering some of your slick from him kissing you, and held it up in front of your eyes.

“you really think that twig out there could do this to you, huh? do you think he could drive you crazy like I do? make this pretty pussy this wet? I don’t fucking think so.”

with that, he spun you around to face the mirror. his hand was still on your neck, forcing you to look at yourself and him positioned behind you. he then reached into his back jean pocket and pulled out a white lace thong, one you recognized immediately.

it was yours from last night.

he dangled it in front of your face and his teeth grazed your ear, “i’ve been thinking about you all day. thinking about how good you take me, how tight you are, how fucking sweet that pussy is.”

you gasped slightly, his words making you hotter and hotter. he knew exactly what to say to make you have to rub your thighs together to relieve yourself a little. it was too much for you, and you were going to show him what you were capable of.

you removed his hand from your throat and faced him, quickly dropping to your knees. he threw your underwear on the counter, stepping back to give you room in front of him. you undid his belt, hands working quickly. you tugged his pants down just far enough to release him, his hard dick almost hitting his stomach.

your mouth instantly watered, needing him to fill you up. you started small, gripping him and planting a sweet kiss to his tip. he chuckled darkly and messed his hand in your hair, “good girl.”

you took it a step further, licking the whole underside of him. he shivered and groaned slightly, bucking his hips. you couldn’t help it anymore, taking him in your mouth as deep as you could. he gasped and moaned, throwing his head back. you started to move up and down, letting your tongue dance around the curves and veins of him.

“mmm, eager little slut, aren’t you?”

you sucked him harder in response, eyes trained on him, making his knees almost buckle. his hand moved you up and down on him, groaning with his eyes closed. he was getting more frantic as he watched you suck him, his hips stuttering.

“fuck, stop”, he pulled you off of him in a hurry, his chest heaving and his cheeks red. grabbing your jaw, he said breathlessly, “you almost made me cum, baby. fucking shit, I need you now.”

he urgently helped you up and bent you over the sink, your eyes finding the mirror. you watched him as he hiked up your dress, his mouth agape and eyebrows furrowing. his eyes flicked up to yours and he lined up with your entrance.

he entered you, stretching you deliciously. you moaned loudly, finally getting satisfaction to a craving you had had all day and night.

he encouraged you, slipping in and out easily, “that’s it, baby. let him hear how good I make you feel. show him how well I take care of this pussy.”

all you could do was moan and watch him fuck you from behind through the mirror. his hair started sticking to the sweat on his face as he pounded you, making him shine in the dim bar lighting. his dangling medallions swayed with his movements, making a metallic clang with every hard thrust.

jake was so good. too good.

you were already getting close, gripping around him and moaning louder. he reached over and grabbed your thong, pushing it into your open mouth and effectively gagging you.

“I want you to watch as I make you cum, do you understand me? you’re gonna watch me claim this pretty pussy.”

you did as he ordered you, watching him thrust into you and seeing yourself fall apart on his cock. his tip was nudging your cervix and your eyes watered. it was too pleasurable to describe, and your arms were close to giving out.

neither of you had ever looked better than you did right now. his eyes were glazed in lust and both your bodies flexed as he used your hips as leverage to work himself in and out of you. your faces contorted in pleasure, mouths letting go pleas of release and profanity. you could stay in this moment forever.

he sped up his thrusts and you could feel the warmth in your belly rise. his eyes locked on yours as he raised his hand and brought it down to slap your ass. hard.

that kicked you over the edge, and your high swallowed you whole.

it was a good thing that jake had gagged you because, even with the gag, you were sure people could hear you screaming over the booming music. he kept going, fueled by your orgasm, fucking you frantically before letting himself go.

he shuddered and came inside of you, your eyes still locked through the mirror. after his breathing slowed and his eyes started to droop, he slowly pulled out. you spit out your thong and stood back up to face him as he was rebuckling his belt.

he grinned at you, “could he make you come like that?”

“absolutely not.” you weren’t even lying, that was one of the best orgasms you had ever had.

“good.” he leaned forward and kissed you softly on your lips. “now, put those on”, he pointed to your thong and got close to your ear to say, “to hide the fact that i’m dripping out of you.”

“jake!”, you scolded. you bit your lip, imagining his cum leaking out of your pussy. to be honest, you weren’t sure what he could do that you wouldn’t find mind-blowingly hot.

you put on the panties and adjusted your dress as he reached to wipe your smudged makeup.

“did I tell you how fucking hot you look tonight?”

“I kinda figured you thought that after you fucked me senseless over the bathroom counter”, you added humorously.

he laughed and looked at you seriously, “you look perfect, just unreal. sometimes I have to pinch myself when i’m with you, you’re like a beautiful dream.”

your eyes almost watered, his sweet words pulling at you heart strings. you stood on your tip toes to kiss his cheek softly. you both smiled, lost in the daze of each other.

he was the first to break the trance, unlocking and opening the door for you, “milady.”

“good sir”, you played along.

walking back to the bar with his arm around your shoulder, you caught a glimpse of kaylee’s dark hair. as you came closer, you saw that she was kissing someone.

your eyebrows furrowed in immediate confusion as you hurried over to her.

“kaylee, what?”

her head whipped around, embarrassed and red, revealing who she had been kissing:

danny.

you and jake’s jaws dropped.

• • •

I mean…? can we blame anybody here? absolutely not.

tag list: @gvfpal @hollyco @piratejakesgf @sunandthemoontwinflames @kiszkas-canvas @jjwasneverhere @anythingforjtk

#greta van fleet #jake kiszka #jake gvf #josh kiszka #josh gvf #sam kiszka #sam gvf #daniel wagner #danny wagner #danny gvf #gvf fic #gvf smut

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writtenbeneaththestars · 3 days

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Drowning

Summary: Grayson and swimming Warnings: thoughts of suicide, angst, overexertion, thoughts of drowning (please tell me if I missed any!!) A/N: What way to bring in pride month then with…. a very angsty Grayson fic ANYWAY— this is really short but I hope you enjoy? *please tell me if I made any mistakes!!*

Tags: @catapparently, @urbanflorals, @nqds, @reminiscentreader, @never-enough-novels (please tell me if you want to be added or removed!!)

It wasn’t a secret that Grayson Hawthorne swam. A lot.

It was a secret that sometimes, when he swam, he pictured sinking and never coming back up to the surface. It was more of a secret that by sometimes, he actually meant way more than just some of the time.

Today was like that.

The water was especially cold today for whatever reason, but that didn’t matter. He just– he needed the noise to be gone. He just needed it to be gone so it could be ok and he– he really, really needed to swim. Because Grayson Hawthorne did not break. He didn’t get the luxury of breaking.

So he’ll just swim instead.

And if anyone asked him what he was doing, he’d say swimming. Because swimming was fine. No one cared if he swam. No one cared if he pushed his body past its limit every single time, until he couldn’t breathe but in the good way – the way that he could control.

But no one asked him. That was fine. He didn’t need anyone to care. He didn’t deserve it anyway.

Avery asked a few times when she first came, but he gave the same answers every time.

“You’re going out to swim? In this hour?” Yes. He went all hours of the day and night and everything in between. He had to.

“You’re going to overwork yourself.” No I won’t. Yes, he would. Sometimes, he didn’t care. Other times, that was the point.

She seemed to get used to it after a while and stopped questioning him. He didn’t know if he was sad about that or not, but it left a sort of empty numb feeling. Then again, that feeling had always been there as far as he could remember.

When he was in the pool, he’d swim laps and laps and so many freaking laps. The entire time, he whispered in his mind everything wrong with him. Everything he needed to change. It was funny, because every single part of him needed to change. He swam with perfect form, never making a mistake. He had to. And if he did mess up, well, he wasn’t entirely sure. That had never happened before. All he knew was that he didn’t have the luxury of messing up. He couldn’t mess up.

Sometimes – and by that he meant rather frequently actually – he’d hold his breath and go to the bottom of the pool. And it wasn’t anyone’s business whether or not he contemplated if he should come up for air. He’d close his eyes as the lack of oxygen burned his lungs and his body screamed at him to come up to the surface. He resisted it. And it was so peaceful. In the end though, his body would always win and he would come up gasping for breath.

He did that today, and for the briefest moment, he could picture how nice it would be if he just didn’t come up. For a moment, that almost came true. But once he came up, he let out a laugh. He really was pathetic, wasn’t he. Thinking he could just be free of it all that easily. Who did he think he was? Grayson Hawthorne needed to be perfect.

But he knew the truth. No matter how perfect he got, he would never be perfect enough.

And maybe one day, he could finally stop treading the water, fighting tooth and nail to stay above the rising tide that threatens to overwhelm him. Maybe someday the water would slowly start to lower. But until then, he guessed he just had to hope he didn’t drown.

Somewhere in his mind he knew the truth: it was already too late. He was beyond the point of saving. He was already drowning.

He had already drowned.

#my failed attempt(s) at writing #writing #fanfic #fanfiction #the inheritance games #jennifer lynn barnes #grayson hawthorne

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atlas-likes-writing · 3 days

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June of Doom Day One - "Help Me."

Characters: Bruce Wayne/Batman, Clark Kent/Superman, Alfred Pennyworth, Ra's Al-Ghul (mentioned), Tim Drake/Red Robin, Damian Wayne/Robin, Stephanie Brown/Spoiler, Dick Grayson/Nightwing

Summary: Bruce has always been stubborn, much to the dismay of those around him. It's only when he has no other option that he actually decides to ask for assistance.

Word count: 1603

Tags: Light angst, light gore, injuries, depictions/recountance of injuries and violence, medicine/medical terminology.

Author's Note: In comparison to other angst fics I've written, this one is incredibly tame. Call it the calm before the storm for this challenge lol. Enjoy! As always, feel free to like, comment, and reblog. It helps me out a bunch.

@juneofdoom

Masterlist | Day Two

The Dark Knight is revered across the world as being untouchable. Unbeatable. The stuff of legend that you tell your kids about so they will behave. “You better be good, or the Batman will come and get you in the night!” It works a treat. There are some people in the world who don’t even think He exists. They believe it’s clever CGI or paid trauma actors or a talented cosplayer (as to what they’re cosplaying is up for debate, for obvious reasons). Like on of those fake movies where people on social media work together in their thousands to gaslight people into thinking they exist when they don’t. It’s not true, of course. Batman is as human as any other person on Earth (except for the large variety of aliens that also call Earth home, but that’s another thing to ignore). He is human. He has skin and lungs and teeth and a tongue; and with such things comes vulnerability. The Dark Knight is not untouchable, and he certainly isn’t unbeatable.

Especially considering the state he is currently in.

It is well-known throughout the hero community that Ra’s Al-Ghul is not a man to be messed with. Whenever his name pops up on mission briefs it is always given to the more capable heroes in the Watchtower. Usually the Big Three: Batman, Superman, and Wonder Woman, and today was no different. When the small-time hero of somewhere unimportant came shuffling over to his office to timidly poke his head through the door, Batman was surprisingly quite understanding.

“That must have been a formatting error. I’ll handle it, don’t worry. Ra’s Al-Ghul isn’t a villain for the regular hero. Thank you for bringing this to me, Jerry.”

How on earth he knew the man’s name was between him and the gods. He scampered off and out of Batman’s office before he got the chance to ask, his own fear getting the best of him. How heroic.

Now, while Bruce is clutching his side and using his cape as an impromptu bandage across his torso, he wishes that Clark and Diana were not on their respective breaks.

“The kids are on school break. I’m going to take them to visit Ma and Pa for the weekend. Shout if you need me, Bruce.”

“My sisters in Themyscira have requested my presence for a ceremony of some kind. It is apparently important, so I will be back in about a week.”

He can’t blame them, of course. Superhero work is tough, and everyone is in need of a break now and again. Jon and Kon are important to Clark, as are his own children to Bruce, so he understands. And the surprise birthday party for Diana has been in the works for months. Being the only naturally born Themysciran, it is a ceremony worth celebrating for the Amazons, so Bruce can’t fault them either. He just wishes their departures could have been spaced out a little more so he wouldn’t have to deal with Ra’s alone.

Now, in the middle of god-knows-where in some North African country, he is alone. Crippled by some sort of Lazarus Pit magic that was blasted across his thigh and various sword-related wounds dotted around his torso and legs. He’s been in worse situations, but he’s also certainly been in better as well. With Alfred piloting the Batwing from the safety of the Batcave, he’s got about four hours until it arrives, and he can be brought back to his own domain. Back to safety. He hesitates at the idea of calling for help from Clark. The man has his own priorities, and it’s been an incessantly long time since he’s had time alone with his family without the stress of hero work.

However, some priorities overrule others.

“Clark, help me,” he whispers, voice cracking and hoarse after hours of fighting and sustaining injuries. As he treks away from the arena where Ra’s and Bruce fought (some secluded spot in the middle of a dessert - Bruce would personally guess Ethiopia due to the landmarks surrounding him, but he has been wrong before and wouldn’t be surprised if he was at this moment as well) and with the fact that Ra’s has been defeated in mind and handed into the local authority, he pushes forward. Every step through sand dunes feels as if he’s walking through treacle, and he can’t help but struggle with his own body as he reaches the crest of a particularly large mountain of sand. In the distance, the sparkling lights of a large city twinkle at him with the promise of assistance, but he highly doubts he’ll get there before he collapses to dehydration or his injuries. He’s already exhausted the little water he had in his utility belt and the bandages in it have already been used to patch up wounds of the highest severity. The strange green magic that Ra’s used on him made the material of his trousers stick to his left leg painfully, so he had to cut the cotton-Kevlar material off.

So, there he is: trudging in the middle of some desert in the middle of nowhere in the dead of night - dehydrated, injured, and miserable with his incoming support not available for another several hours and half of his costume in disrepair. He can’t help feeling a little irritable towards his comrades for this, even if he is completely aware that it isn’t their fault. He was the one who deemed it too dangerous for his children to come with him to combat the Demon’s Head and made the incredibly intelligent decision to go alone. Even Alfred had urged him to go with one of his more mature children, but his fear of losing them after what happened to Jason put the rational part of his brain on autopilot in favour of the worried parent in him to disagree with every alternative. He can just hope that either his family or Clark finds him before it’s too late.

That’s the last thought he has before he collapses, face first, into the sand.

—

He’s in and out of consciousness for a long time. When he’s got half a mind to take in his surroundings, Bruce notices that he is travelling. Rapidly. When he blinks, he’s in a vehicle, then lying down on something, then surrounded by darkness. He hears voices too, but they’re often mixed and warped together until he can’t discern whose is whose. Eventually, the soft timbre of Alfred reaches him, followed by the worried voice of his eldest son. It’s then when he realises he’s back in the Batcave and safe, so he closes his eyes again and stays like that for a while; not particularly in the mood for waking up.

When he properly regains consciousness, he’s met with a pounding headache and a sharp ache overwhelming his legs and chest. Bruce opens his eyes and is immediately blinded by the bright LED of a medical light glaring down on him. He squints into it and brings his arm up to cover his eyes with a groan, and the room, which he didn’t realise was occupied by others, suddenly went silent.

“Bruce? You’re awake!” That was the voice of his third son.

“It was about time, Father. How was Grandfather?” That was his youngest.

“Stop pestering him! Let him get his bearings before you overwhelm him with questions.” His eldest daughter.

“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t overwhelm me with questions at all. At least, not yet,” Bruce grumbles, attempting to sit up without triggering a massive headache and failing miserably. He slumps back on the hospital cot, closing his eyes. He feels a cool and damp fabric being placed on his forehead, realising that Alfred is busy doing his medical ministrations as he always does.

“You gave us quite the scare, Master Bruce. I hope this acts as a lesson to not fight the League of Assassins without correct backup,” the butler states. Bruce sighs, the act causing pain to shoot through his ribcage. Ah, so he broke them.

“I won, didn’t I?” he states, attempting humour. The joke falls flat in the now silent room and the man represses the urge to sigh a second time.

“We all know that’s not the point here, Bruce.” His eldest son, Dick, steps forward and stands next to the cot where his father lies. “You gave Clark quite the scare.”

That’s what gets Bruce to open his eyes.

“He’s here?”

“He’s upstairs in the Manor. He wanted to give you space.”

He can’t suppress the sigh this time and it turns into a wince.

“Damn it. Can you bring him down here? I want to apologise for keeping him from his family.”

“Visiting hours are closed for a few hours,” Alfred states bluntly and shoots a poignant glare behind him at the several others in the room. They all look away, shuffling around awkwardly. “Unfortunately, your stubbornness is apparently hereditary.” He turns to face them all. “Children, Master Bruce is awake. You can come back later when he’s in a better state of mind and body.” As if on cue, Bruce groans in pain after a failed attempt to move his legs into a more comfortable position.

“Right- yeah. Sorry, Alf. We’ll go.” Dick begins to turn away but stops himself halfway to the door. Once the others have left, he gives a meaningful look to his father.

“Stop thinking you have to do everything alone, Bruce. You have friends. Act like it.”

With that, he leaves, leaving the Dark Knight in the care of his butler and his own thoughts.

Will be posted on Ao3 later on :)

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typicalopposite · 2 days

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Thank you as alway @onthewaytosomewhere for the tag!

Gonna share something from a BuckTommy fic I really need to get back to writing but I have not had the inspiration 😭 (gonna be way more that the alloted sentences btw 😮‍💨 I could pick a small section!)

Tommy thinks about the past few weeks since the wedding. Things have felt so domestic. Which is– it’s good. It’s nice. He is relieved that things don’t seem to have changed much for Evan since he outed himself to the entire wedding party. He still has been mentally kicking himself everyday for that; he should have stopped Evan before they reached the room and pointed out the evidence of their waiting room make out session. It’s just… it had truly been a really bad fire, and he was so tired when he arrived at the hospital, and then Evan had pounced on him with that kiss (that he is pretty sure rewired his brain a little…). He just didn’t think about it until it was too late.

But Evan didn’t seem to be bothered by it, and everyone seemed either unfazed or happy for them – ok not everyone; but Evan hasn’t brought up his parents reaction yet, neither of them have made any efforts in reaching out to discuss it, and Tommy really doesn’t want to be the one to open that can of worms.

So, now everyone knows.

They are officially… official. The best part? Nothing feels any different from how things were the weeks they were secretly dating before the wedding… minus the whole secretly dating part. They go to work, they do their jobs, and they come home. They see each other when they can, and talk on the phone (or text when it’s really busy) when they can’t. Tommy swears he has used his cell more since meeting Evan than he has since he bought the damned thing; sometimes they are up all night and only get off when alarms interrupt them and then they have to struggle through a shift on no sleep. Tommy feels like a teenager again; Evan makes him feel young, and free, and alive again.

Throwing out a couple tags: @scripted-downfall @luainthewild and @meraki-yao and leaving it open for anyone else who wants to join in :)

#sunday sentences #911 wip #bucktommy #buck and tommy #tevan #firefly #evan buckley #tommy kinard

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whack-patty · 1 year

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So guess who completely forgot that chocolate milk and strawberry milk is such a big internet thing and made a poll in the heat of the moment and now my inbox is full of T H E funniest tags but also now i can't find any of the non chocolate/strawberry milk debate stuff in the chocolate/strawberry milk flood i am drowning in

GOOD GOLLY

#i genuinely dont mind how bad im getting smoked because it is CO M E D Y G O L D #i will gladly put my dignity on the line in public as long as its a funny story later #the person i was debating with likes to scroll through the tags while im ignoring my phone #and read through her favorite of the mean choccy milk tags #right to me <3 its a good daily routine #anyway please universe do not let this one become a ten thousand billion note one i miss having like 12 notifications all about the blorbos #FR IM SURE I ALREADY SAID THIS BUT IF YOU NEED ME FEEL FREE TO SEND AN ASK and ill see it. late #the seeing it late is unrelated to the choccy milk thing #ive already made this announcement right before the poll thing #im making it again because theres a new reason im not seeing anybodys stuff #it is; being overwhelmed #in a good way i promise its really funny #but also oh gosh i have made a tactical error #i am lying in bed typing this instead of sleeping #if you read this far heres a fun fact for you; the human eye can percieve more shades of green than any other color #neat right #🟩📗🟢🍏🥗🥬💚♻️🐍🍃🌱🍀🤢🌲🌿#green :^)#ramblin

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crepusculesque · 11 months

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Tag nine (9) people you’d like to know better

tagged by @wifegideonnav!

last song: Famous Last Words by MCR. I’ve been on a kick for the last week-ish

currently watching: Not a whole lot, but I started watching the new season of Black Mirror with one of my friends.

currently reading: Just finished Childhood’s End by Arthur C. Clarke and picked up The Name of the Rose by Umberto Eco, but I’m not very far in yet.

current obsession: Aside from tlt (which is an obsession I’m now convinced will never really go away), I’ve been getting wayyy into the lore of Destiny (the game series). So if you’ve seen me reblogging vaguely suggestive art containing alien bug goddesses, that’s that.

I’ve done this once or twice before but I always like getting tagged in these things :)

Again no pressure to do this but passing it along to some people I don’t think I’ve tagged before: @androgynousladyjellyfish @soupseason @bimbomcgee @shutup-rachel @officialbogwitch @na102 @fire-swift @mercymornsimpathizer @yaboywillyshakes

#and if i have tagged any of you in this before again feel free to ignore it #tag game #to expand on the obsession i'll give an even smaller micro-obsession which is the god of war in destiny who is a huge alien woman #with a massive sword who speaks exclusively in capslock #she's sad and lonely. she's destroyed ten thousand planets. she has complicated feelings about her siblings. she's canonically a trans ally #xivu arath (she whose victory is idempotent) walks the poor little meow meow walk and i can't stop thinking about it #anyway uhhhh yeah thanks for the tag!

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dandyshucks · 6 months

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if I try to mess with the eyes on the first one anymore I'm going to lose my mind DBDNDML so here have some self insert art,,,, also the houndoom was largely copied from someone else's art (dvixie/SkyVixie on deviantart, the art seems to have been taken down from their gallery though, I just found the art on pinterest and then had to track down the artist fjfkdl idk why ppl repost art with no credit 😭), I was trying to just get a feel for drawing them so I figured (HEAVILY) referencing someone else's piece would be alright for this sort of personal art thing!!

#aaaand I'll turn off rbs too djdksl i dont want to take any credit for that houndoom #i changed a couple minor things but dbfkdl it rly is just me looking at that other person's art and trying to draw it myself #it was good for getting a feel for how to draw them though!!! this was before the other art featuring houndoom i did a while ago #so i think it helped a lot to be able to draw houndoom again on my own this time fjfkdjdl #gave me a feel for placement and anatomy and whatnot #i know copying is largely considered to be Bad in the art community but if u do it the right way i think it can be beneficial to ur art #u just have to be careful and not claim credit for it fjdkl like... idk be smart and respectful #i think this is the first time I've ever done smth like this actually SNDKSL #the closest i get to copying is using free-to-use pose bases occasionally and even then i sometimes clarify in the tags that im using one #every day i fear someone will walk up and show all the drawings I've used free-to-use pose bases for #and be like AHA. I'VE FOUND YOU OUT. YOU'RE A FAKE ARTIST!!!!#and its like... no... i just like using free-to-use pose bases sometimes DBDJDKL #takes out the work of figuring out posing sometimes when im tired of coming up w my own fjfkdl #ANYWAYS. RAMBLE OVER SORRY SNDJFKDL #moral of the story: if u copy art just do it in a respectful and clear way and don't take credit for it when its not yours sbdjdksl #okay im going to skedaddle off this post before i stick my foot in my mouth if i havent already djdkdls WAUGH i am afraid of posting this #but i want to share self insert stuff somewhere sjfjdkl and i like the human posing i did on the second one so... SIGH.#dandy.cmd #doodlebug.png #junebug 🪲

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1pcii · 7 months

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just had an au idea. nothing for it yet but im rlly exited to work on it!!!

Ranma 1/2 au with Zoro as Ranma (Kuina being the form he obtains from the "Spring of 'Drowned' Girl") and Koushirou as Genma.

This would require rewriting both stories backstories a little to work but the basic jist im going for is that Kuina would have died to the springs before Koushirou adopts Zoro.

Kuina drowns because of a training mishap (similar to ranma/genma in canon and zoro/koushirou will do in this au but, yknow,,, permanent) because she was left unsupervised as koushirou is unsupportive of her trying to become the 'man amongst men'/worlds greatest swordsman, him believing its only worth training a male heir. He thinks she ran away and is left without closure until he and zoro fall themselves.

i don't really like animanga!Koushirou for obvious reasons but i think this could be a very interesting vessel to actually explore those negative traits. his misogynistic world-views and the way the effected his daughter but also his grief around loosing her (Zoro being the recipient towards all this when he just wants to play with swords poor guy) since he is inadvertently partially to blame. or at-least he believes so.

Zoro, not directly knowing her learns about her largely from other people and their reactions to him in her form and that's when/why he decides to become a 'man amongst men'/worlds greatest swordsman for both of them. i think he would be generally fine with having a female form, considering he is written with a 'person first'/genderblind view of gender in canon, stigma moreso pushed onto him by koushirou/others.

i haven't thought much about the other characters (akane I’m completely blanking on for idea) yet but s’ what I’ve got so far XP

#i have alot more thoughts about this than what ive written so far i just think i would rewatch Ranma ½ again before i go any further #and probably progress more w one piece because im aware there are more female swordsman/women that go against zoro later on #and im gonna need that #once again shaking my fist at oda for not giving zoro a main/long term female rival #but 👀yknow👀 feel free to👀 if you want👀 ask me questions or tell me your thoughts abt this. i would love that sm since im actually super #invested in this now #psii.txt #1pc #save #text #roronoa zoro #shimotsuki koshiro #shimotsuki kuina #au #crossover #one piece x Ranma ½ #<- au tag for now #also the potential zoro gender thoughts. my brain is braining so hard #honestly this exists mostly to put koushirou through the ringer. your son is now also your dead daughter #you're misogynistic worldviews are being put under heavy scrutiny. you kinda blame yourself and your son kinda resents you but also it was #ultimatly an accident #you get a second chance but it would be so unfair to put that onto who is at the end of the day a compleatly different person. who wears #your daughters face #and you are a panda now too sometimes. rip

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sso-montana · 2 years

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Mo's guide to magic, pt. 1(?)

welcome! in this I try to explain my interpretation of the sso magic system, starting with the four soul rider circles ofc. feel free to share your own ideas and thoughts, as this isn't waterproof and probably doesn't make that much sense, but it works for me and critique and ideas are ofc appreciated!

first off, this post focuses on the spells and abilities exclusive to each circle. users from different circles are still able to use the same basic magic (e.g. fire or transformation spells as well as all types of healing plants and everything i can't think of right now) as well as all kinds of enhanced magic of their circle and "dark" magic (as the keepers like to call it, magic itself isn't good nor bad, but for what and how it's used). different individuals will excel in different types of magic, yada yada yada

Lightning Circle

this is the circle that is mostly known for its use in combat, and for a good reason. the lighning circle is referred to as the "judgment" of aideen and its members have a reputation as warriors and fighters amongst the keepers. this is reflected in the way the circle is able to use magic, since it really is simply using different kinds of lightning.

the soul strike is the one most used, as it is the most harmless of the bunch. there is no heat involved in this form, as in contrast to the others. soul strike simply is a bright lighning bolt with the capability to freeze/paralyze its opponent. this is caused by the electricity of the lighning numbing and paralyzing the opponent which renders them unable to move/speak.

fire strike on the other hand is literal lightning. besides the voltage number users can also control the amount of heat that gets released while fighting. additionally, this type of lightning magic can and will cause the opponent and sometimes even the user physical injuries such as burns and scars depending on the intensity used. melting or setting things on fire is also a very real possibility as well as causing electronics to short-circuit

lightning ball is the hardest and rarest form used by circle members for the simple reason that it requires a lot of training and effort to form fire strike into a ball. in addition to all the characteristics and dangers fire strike posses, lightning ball has also the ability to rip holes through people and objects, so it should be used with precision. so, yes, you can pull of a kamehameha with this, but please don't rip any holes into things (esp buildings)

Sun Circle

obviously, being able to create portals is pretty useful, tho it shouldn't be used too much because ripping a hole into space and time isn't exactly a good thing and should (technically) only be used when necessary. it is also possible to create pure light, which is quite useful to scare away shadow seekers (Anne can confirm this). the next step would be to form this little light into a small projectile. if you manage this, you are your very own laser! (we are talking about pure light, which radiates heat, please, for the love of aideen, use with caution.) also, please keep in mind that this can seriously injure/temporarily blind people. if that was your goal, then congrats or smth

but besides the obvious use of the sun circle it also has a pretty neat trick: shields. after all, the circle is known as "aideens shield", would be weird if they didnt have any shields. these are created by taking light and forming it into a *insert preferred shield shape of the user* and boom, you have a shield. (it should be noted that these shields are made of pure light, so they radiate heat. if any opponents run against them or you accidentally hit your fellow soul rider with them, a trip to the ER or next star circle member might be needed. burns are no fun) the brightness of the shield is what determines the heat of it, too. keep it to a low and your opponent will just loose a tooth if they run against it instead of having half their face melted of. again, unless that's what you would want for whatever reason

Moon Circle

i know, the moon circle usually isn't used in combat and has its strengths in fortune telling as well as seeing into the past/future. that doesn't mean it's completely useless in battle tho, because it can grant you the ability to become invisible. it's hard for your opponent to beat you up if they can't see you, duh. and they have all kinds of common magic not exclusive to their circle ar their disposal, so there's no need to worry abt it's members

(maybe give them an ibuprofen and some peace and quiet if they use their little dissapering trick quite often as it can lead to pretty bad headaches. magic is not without its disadvantages)

Star Circle

okay, the healers. those people are busiest after the battle takes place, as they usually are the one to take care of any injuries from others and their own. still, just like the moon circle, they are not defenseless in battle. their power lays with healing and creating, and creating is what comes in handy.

see, stars are basically just far away suns, which means their far away balls of fire that give of light. a random run-in with a dark rider? boom, sword made of materialized light. (or polearms, greatsword, whatever suits your taste and you can handle best. it can also just be a shield if no sun circle user is avaliable. or a baseball bat. the members imagination is their limit.) as to the dangers, same drill as with the sun circle. keep the brightness on the low, and your hands will thank you since, unlike sun shields, you actually have to touch your weapon of choice.

surprisingly, this less common use of the star circle is less taxing on members than the healing, as it takes a lot if enery out of them and tends to leave users exhausted and tired.

of course, depending on what circle you are part of will also somewhat predetermine which kind of magic you are naturally inclined to. most star circle users are great at memorizing healing plants and lightning and sun circle users have a favor for fire spells. those are just the norm tho and with enough patience, training or stubbornness anyone can excel at any kind of magic they want. just make sure you don't harm anyone (that you don't intend to harm-) and look after your friends and fellow soul riders.

a/n: this was part one of probably two, as I do want to make another post going into corruption and magic poisoning, aka the stuff evergray, anne and montana have going for them. there is also a difference between earth and pandorian magic, which could also be interesting to go into, as the soul riders and keepers do use pandorian magic (imo, simply bc I love the irony) and witches tend to dabble in both (mrs. h probably uses mainly earth magic imo tho). and if there are any aspects I forgot or could go more into detail, let me know! I love talking abt magic systems, lore and the silly little world building from the story I always keep talking abt but probably will never publish.

#sso #ssoblr #i know you offered to draw stuff @lukas crowsong but i am terrified to talk to others (ﾒ﹏ﾒ)#also if anyone wants to use any of this for their story or art feel free to do so!#and i apologize for any grammar or spelling or formating mistakes it is currently 3:24 #which means i probably wont read through this again before publishing it tomorrow #bc i am lazy #and hate to read stuff again i wrote #which is why i never get to publish fanfics even tho i have a 10k xia*ven wip that isnt even finished #censoring bc i dont want it to clog up their tag #if it still does: i am sorry #kali talks lore

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haeroniel-doliet · 1 year

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God that mood where you both need to do stuff and want to do stuff but both needs are vague and have too many options so you just. Do nothing you want or need to do and realize all the time you had is disappearing. A good time!!!

#haeroniel talks #forget the tag oh well #but for real. had 4 days off work and a ton of real life stuff i both have to get done and have been meaning to get done for a long time #ive pretty much only played video games and called my friends. genuinely not time wasted and i love when i get to do that #and like rn i would love to play more games and spend time with my friends like if one offers you know i never say no #but its also already getting dark and i have to go back to work tomorrow and ive not done everything i promised to have done yknow?#time doesnt feel real and i dont wanna get up even if the anxiety slowly builds to hopefully productive panic #but in the mean time im like ugghh i wanna stop laying around just playing sudoku and watching lame youtube. i wanna play something #(unclear what it is i actually wanna play too many options i kinda wanna play all of them and none huehheh)#im also very sad i havent drawn in ages and any attempt just feels shit. like maybe if i read enough fanfic thatll respark the love.#id love to post something before christmas to get me excited to draw again over the break but who the hell knows if i'll manage #and yeah still have the annoying job related/driving school related/therapy applying/other life admin that really really should be done #im just being grouchy and stuck and need to vent hi tumblr love you all kiss kiss i wish i could function better #i think maybe perhaps. ill concede that driving school and therapy arent priority (important but ive wasted ages on them already)#i think i can do work related things bc theyre sort of fun. i can use my parents help to whack through the life admin and then #maybe i can let myself spend the rest of the evening guilt free either calling my friends and/or playing or if im going totally w drawin

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unholyeverything · 2 months

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I just realised tomorrow marks the 7ths week of me being sick and feeling like garbage lol It's some ups and downs but generally it's been a while since I've been healthy and none knows whats up which is nice.

#been to the doctor so many times #and at least my general doc is trying but she cant figure out what's wrong #and the throat specialist I've been to twice in one month got a very helpful “sounds like stress and you imagine all” for me #like thanks i keep having my ear throat and nose inflamed constantly and nothing i tried so far helped but surely its stress #my doc suspected a virus but we also didnt find any active anti bodies #so i was just told to rest and was off work for two weeks that also did nothing #so i worked again even tho my doc was like maybe not but i got psychological issues being home with nothing to do #gotta go to my dentist tomorrow to see if the source is there #but im sure its my ears but I'll never go back to that doc #i was there twice a month cuz it kept getting worse and got a stress stamp #stress i didnt even have lately cuz i got a healthy fuck you all work motivation now #and now I'll lose all chance for promotion cuz i cant do my usual 200% and my bosses translate that with: she broken now bye #going great #also don't really have motivation to draw anymore #I started to build model sets but idk if anyone would wanna see those #I also got a cyst on my ovaries and got an appointment in july #that gives me serious pms like i never had it before but ok #someone knows a doc that'll remove the whole uterus i don't need that shit anymore #anyways in case anyone's been wondering where i am lately or if anyone even read this my asks are open if anyone wants to ask smth #or ask my OCs they live rent free in my head and are very precious to me #even my new car is named Michael #he's cute and my record so far been 190km/h #one day I'll do the 225 he can do #just get off the road that day pls #that car was the onyl thing i worked for so idk what to do with my life now #save for car repairs maybe #anyone wants a pic of my child #he's orange #I'm very proud of myself i managed to save up for him quiet fast #these tags are wild but I'm feeling a bit more energetic thanks to some plant supplements my uncle gave me

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kenntolog · 1 month

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Oh oh! I want to tag in!! I’m not entirely sure if this is something you’re comfortable with, but since cool bf Sukuna loser gf reader takes place in university, I think I’d be super cool seeing sukuna get wasted and being so soft to reader and just loving her while she’s all flustered and maybe on the verge of tears cause she feels so loved (not that she didn’t before, but sukuna is like, being extra about it you know?), thought it be cute!!

𝝑𝝔 an: hey sweet anon!! this is indeed very cute and charming so i hope you enjoy my interpretation!! read more ab cool bf sukuna x loser gf reader here! wc: throwing up, drinking.

cool boyfriend sukuna is so wasted he loses his filter completely, his affectionate nature that was sealed deep inside of him, threatening to break out only for his loser girlfriend, finally free of it’s restraints.

“you’re always so good t’me, baby,” he mumbles, face snug in the juncture between your neck and shoulder, and in any other setting in would’ve been very very sweet, but not when he’s laying on top of you by the entrance of your place, having lost his balance when trying to get out of his shoes.

“‘kunaa~ d’you wanna maybe get up?” you whine, trying to move him off.

“i’ll stay where i want,” he lifts his head up, a frown appearing on his face before he visibly stiffens. you eye him warily before you realise that he’s probably going to throw up and it’s gonna be all over you if he doesn’t move.

thankfully, sukuna has mercy and quickly moves away from you, standing up and running to the bathroom, and soon enough you hear him groaning in pain and agony. you rub his back through it all, cringing at the way he still manages to curse in between choking on his own vomit, and lift him up making him drink some water and get ready to wash his teeth.

he’s still very much drunk, now uncharacteristically quiet as he stares at you through the mirror while brush his teeth carefully. he’s probably capable of doing it himself, you think, but you don’t think he should let go of the sink’s edge, still swaying a bit from side to side.

since you’re focused on brushing his teeth so you don’t notice his half-lidded gaze on you until you’re done, instructing him to spit out the excess toothpaste.

“let’s get you to bed, ‘kuna,” you mumble, shy under his intense gaze, and tug him by his arm gently, leading him out of the bathroom.

sukuna falls on the bed like a sack of potatoes, pulling you down along with himself as he sighs in delight.

“g’night, baby.” he mutters, holding you close to his chest, but you chuckle nervously, trying to get out of his hold instead since you still had to change and do your routine before sleep. “where the hell are you goin’?”

“i gotta change and wash—”

“no, i can’t sleep without you, baby,” he pouts and you can barely keep your face intact to not give away your bewilderment because this is a revelation for you. his arms tighten around you a little as he glares at you sleepily.

“it’ll take just a couple of minutes, ‘kuna,” you attempt to negotiate once again. he stares at you for a few seconds before groaning and sitting up.

“‘m comin’ with you.”

you sigh, suppressing your growing smile, but don’t resist and let him tug you both into your bathroom.

———————

“you don’t even have to do all this shit,” sukuna complains quietly now that he’s settled: head heavy on your shoulder with arms wrapped around your middle as he blinks slowly and yawns occasionally.

you don’t give him an answer, busy with the last step of your routine, before you feel him breathing you in slightly, lips nipping on the skin of your neck.

“you’re the prettiest girl in the world for me,” he mutters simply, kissing your jaw and cheek as his hands rub up and down your sides soothingly. you feel your face heat up when his eyes lock with yours through the mirror, your flustered state now more visible. “the best girl in the world.”

“s’kuna,” you mumble, looking down at your hands so that he doesn’t see your cheeks dusting with the embarrassing pink.

he ignores you, fingers clasping around yours as he pulls you out of the bathroom and to your bed. once again, sukuna drags you into the bed with himself, covering you both with your blanket.

“my girl,” he sighs with a sleepy grin and cups your face with both hands, leaning in to place a kiss on your nose and lips. “took care of me so well t’night.”

you almost whine in embarrassment, hiding your face in his chest so sukuna doesn’t see the way your bottom lip juts out and eyes get watery as you try your best to not sniffle so much. the amount of love you feel from him is so overwhelming you start feeling stupid for the way you don’t know whether to laugh in delight or cry from the softness.

“love you so much.”

“love you too, ‘kuna.”

+ bonus!

“were you cryin’ into my chest?”

“n-no, why’d you say that?”

“you totally were, loser.”

“sukuna!”

#— miya writes!#sukuna x you #sukuna ryomen x you #sukuna ryomen x reader #jjk sukuna #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna jujutsu kaisen #sukuna ryomen #ryomen sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #cool bf sukuna x loser gf reader

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sttoru · 5 months

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·.⌇ 𝐒𝐘𝐏𝐍𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐒. love; you wonder if the king of curses is capable of feeling that emotion too. so, you take on a more direct approach to ask him.

word count. 1.7k

note. sukuna brainrot sorry. . .

tags. true form!sukuna x female reader. angst (+ comfort) / fluff. size difference mentions. eh sukuna’s a bit mean. established relationship, but you’re like v early into the relationship.

it was a calm sunday evening. both sukuna and you had fulfilled your duties for the day. all you needed after working hard was the presence of the person you admire most. thus, you had made your way over to sukuna’s chambers. to your surprise, you already found him sitting on the engawa which led to the connected backyard.

sukuna noticed your presence, but didn't utter a word. he simply shot you a glance before continuing to stare into the distance. he seemed to be in deep thought about something. you didn’t want to bother him when he was like this, but the voice in your head told you to stay.

you silently kneel next to him and gather your hands in your lap. your eyes automatically move to focus on sukuna again. two of his hands are supporting his weight as they rest flat on the wooden surface. the other set rests limply on his thigh.

your gaze falls on his bottom left hand. the one he uses to kill, but also the one he uses to hold and caress you. you could easily recall its feel without having to touch him; rough, callused and warm. you reach your hand out towards his without hesitation.

sukuna’s eyes dart over to your small stature next to him. he allows you to grab his hand, to pull it over to your lap and let it rest palm up on your thighs. it’s almost funny. how big his hand is in comparison to yours.

the comfortable silence continues. the rustles of the leaves and the water movements in the koi pond in the yard are soothing to the soul. your finger traces the lines on sukuna’s palm, following them until they end before switching to the other.

the king of curses watches you play around with his hand. still with that stoic expression on his face. however, feeling your delicate touch on his skin and seeing you smile to yourself for whatever reason makes the corners of his lips curl up. for a split second.

a faint, amused grin. you sure are an interesting creature in his eyes.

“sukuna, can i ask you something?” you break the silence with a question. there is an unknown feeling in your chest; one that makes you restless at night. your smile slowly drops into a small pout when you think about what you want to ask him.

not a single action goes unnoticed by the man next to you. he lifts an eyebrow, but other than that, there’s no reaction visible. he answers you with a hum of approval, “mmh.”

you lift your head and look up at him. sukuna was already staring right at you—his piercing eyes catch your soft ones. he squints. there is something wrong with the way you are looking at him. normally, the smile you give him would reach your eyes. now it doesn’t.

that same smile completely disappears over time.

“do you.. are you..” you stammer. you don't know how to articulate your question. it’s probably dumb. to both you and him. sukuna watches you struggle to ask him whatever is on your mind. he firmly grabs your wrist and squeezes it. not too hard. he doesn't want to inflict any unneccesary pain.

sukuna sighs. a heavy sigh. one thing he dislikes is when you leave him in the dark. it isn’t the first time you did so during the past week. asking him if you could ask him a question and when he grants you the permission to, you back down or change topics.

it’s getting tiresome.

“spit it out.” sukuna grumbles. he pulls your body closer to his by your wrist, your arm stretched upwards with your hand hovering near the side of his face. his breath hits your wrist, causing goosebumps to form on your skin.

crimson orbs stare right into your soul. you gulp and feel your body warm up. when you try to avert your gaze, one of sukuna's free hands grabs you by the jaw and steers your head to face him. his thumb presses down on your chin. he’s not letting it go today. he needs answers.

before sukuna could add to his words, you breathe in sharply. like you’re ready to ask him what had been weighing on your mind ever since a couple days back. oh, stupid it sure is. you know. you’re probably making it too big of a deal. when it isn’t. not in the slightest.

your eyes water. you blink the tears away. you don’t want to embarrass yourself any further by sobbing. your bottom lip trembles as you finally muster up the courage;

“do you love me?”

there it goes. you try to squirm away from sukuna’s grasp after that. you feel flustered. embarrassed. you just want to crawl into a hole and rot.

sukuna does not tighten his grip on you. instead, he loosens them. your wrist slips from his hand. your chin no longer restricted by his fingers. he lets you go.

a painful sting in your heart. you secretly hoped that he’d resist. pull you closer maybe. you don’t know why you expected that. you learnt not to get your hopes up around him and yet you always wish for him to do something.

a silence falls between the two of you again. you act like you didn’t ask him anything. you try to ignore the way sukuna clenched his jaw. how he subtly clicked his tongue. how he let you shuffle away from him.

you clear your throat. with hesistance this time, you gently grab one of sukuna’s hands again. that he allows you. you appreciate that. at least it means he isn’t completely upset. you know sukuna does not allow just anyone to touch him so without permission.

you hold tightly onto his hand like it’s your last hope. his fingers don’t close around yours, though. you don’t mind.

“what a foolish question.” sukuna scoffs and looks the other way. his voice was hoarse. probably from not speaking for quite what time. you silently nod. an expected answer, at last.

you stay silent after that. it hurts. more than you want it to have hurt. maybe it was too early into your relationship to ask such a question. you got into it, knowing fully well how harsh the man next to you could be sometimes.

what you can’t deny is that soft spot sukuna has for you. you see it. uraume sees it. the maids see it. sukuna probably.. knows of it, but doesn’t speak on it. he does not speak up about his feelings much anyway.

but it’s visible in his actions. the king of curses allows you to say and do whatever you want around him. he makes sure his subordinates treat you well. he looks at you with a hint of softness hidden in those red eyes. when he touches you, it’s firm but gentle. like he desperately craves to touch you, though knows not to make that yearning accidentally hurt you in any way.

the latter is what you love most about his soft spot for you. sukuna handles you with utmost care. even uraume had told you that it surprises them greatly whenever they witness the way their master treats you in general.

especially at night. you can’t count the amount of times you quite literally melted into his arms. those four, beefy arms that know just how to make you feel protected. you never sleep in unease. you know that nothing could hurt you when you’re laying against his chest.

sukuna’s actions speak volumes. despite all of that, you wish he’d at least tell you with his words. how much you mean to him.

“my apologies.” you give up. for today, you’ll let him be. the slight irritation in his voice earlier nearly made you cry. he needs more time and you’ll give him that. you slowly detach your small hand from his big, warm one, “i won’t ask you that again.”

sukuna frowns and grumbles something under his breath. you think it’s still because of your previous question, yet his gaze tells a different story. he narrows his eyes as he glares down at his now empty hand. you connect the dots once you see the man take a glimpse at your hand on your lap.

your touch. the sudden abscence of your touch.

“i didn’t say you could do that.” sukuna murmurs. his tone low and maybe even upset to a certain degree. you blink a few times and freeze on spot. the king of curses starts to get grumpy the longer you fail to take the hint.

he kisses his teeth out of impatience. sukuna tightly gets ahold of your hand again and softly yanks it towards him. you squeal as your body stumbles closer to his.

sukuna holds eye contact with you as he brings your hand to his mouth. his tongue wets a spot on your palm—specifically the area that connects your thumb with your wrist. your lips part, your tummy doing flips from the sudden touch.

“don’t let go again,” he bares his teeth before slightly sinking them into the soft flesh. it isn’t a hard bite. more a nibble that leaves a faint mark. what you didn’t expect was for sukuna to kiss that same place after marking it. his thumb runs over that exact spot as well, “got that?”

you nod. you’re unable to refuse him. those feelings of disappointment from earlier long forgotten. you intertwine your fingers with sukuna’s and unlike the previous instant, his fingers do curl back around yours. your skin is still tingling from the feeling of sukuna’s kiss.

the king of curses keeps your entwined hands on his lap this time. he stares off into the distance for a couple seconds before returning his gaze to you. he scans your face and finds what he had been missing;

that tender smile of yours. it was back, tugging at your lips. one of your fingers resumes its soothing motion on his rough skin again. sukuna’s face relaxes. his jaw unclenches.

“good.” sukuna nods at the sight. he turns to watch the night sky again—secretly (yet not so secretly) enjoying this moment of peace.

you’re content with how that ended. and, you’re sure that you don’t mind if it takes days, weeks or even months for your relationship to fully blossom. when you’re with sukuna, one thing is clear: actions do speak louder than words.

#sttoru writes.#jjk x reader #sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #jjk x you #jjk fluff #sukuna fluff #sukuna x you #sukuna x y/n #jjk angst #sukuna angst

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prettycottagequeer · 3 months

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ok maybe I'm a little late to this BUT I'm gonna do a to-do list motivation thingy because I've had the worst two weeks since I started college :)

SO these I should start on asap:

50 I make the snack I really want but I haven't had the motivation to make

100 I clean my dorm. another thing I've been meaning to do for a week

150 I do the presentation about mid-victorian fashion I've been putting off (due Monday)

200 I start memorizing the monologue that was due a week ago (now due Tuesday)

these can wait longer:

300 I spend time outside. It's so nice but I'm getting stuck scrolling because I feel like shit. vicious cycle ect

500 I start setting a better weekend routine (aka getting up before noon)

1k I start working out again. I was doing a routine to get more masc and build muscle and I liked it but life hit me like Crowley driving the Bentley and I've missed like 3 weeks

2k I buy my first binder. I've been coping with sports bras for almost a year now and I haven't been able to justify spending $50+ on a binder even though I know I'd love it and use it everyday.

Do I tag people? I don't know but I'm going to. @the-globe-theatre-maggot @weirdly-specific-but-ok @howmanyholesinswisscheese

here's just some context if you want to read, feel free to skip. some of this I've talked about in the maggot server, some I haven't, but I really just need a place for this to go that's out of my head. tw homophobia, transphobia, car crash(??)

How I Have Been Run Over By The Bentley Going 90 In Central London What Feels Like 50 Times In The Last Two Weeks

I'm going to college about 4 hours away from my parents, and it's been really nice. They.. suck, to say the least. transphobic/homophobic ect, super traditional conservative catholic, racist, all of it. so i tried to move somewhere where I wouldn't have to think about them and I could be myself and do what I can to be happy. March 1st was the start of my spring break, which meant going home because the dorms close. I was already not excited, but I was prepared. the problem with being away from home is I forget just how bad they are. My optimism gets the better of me and I think maybe this time they'll be better. so I decided to not hide my septum piercing.

that was a mistake. it starts a whole fight where they say we know you're trans, you're actually a girl and you always will be, we have the bones argument, they think I'm being influenced by demons or something (if only they knew about crowley) because I want to change my name, and they tell me that going on t will completely ruin my body and give me cancer and other things. They're also mad about my dyed hair, septum, and general style, and say I'm setting a terrible example for my (5) younger siblings and make it a point to tell me just how much of a disappointment I am. I think I'm pretty cute and fun but y'know, whatever. very fun time. I lie so much, don't give them any more details about my identity, and say I'm not planning to go on t to save my ass. which is all on instinct which makes me feel worse because if I'm really trans I should be able to stand up for that, right? maybe I'm faking the dysphoria.

the next morning I wake up really sick, and spend the rest of the week sick and feeling like shit because I'm home and back in the same place and situation I was a year ago that I thought I escaped. at one point I pretty much lose my voice but also kind of get gender euphoria from it. it's weird.

On Friday it's time for me to drive back 4 hours to school, and I make it about 3/4 of the way when google maps takes me on a random gravel road and I crash my car, really crash my car, like sideways-in-a-ditch-windows-broken-crawling-up-out-the-door crash it in the middle of nowhere. (I was fully paying attention to the road, it was raining and super slick) I call my parents because I have no one else to call and I sit in a Subway for 3 hours while they drive to get my car. when they get there they're (understandably) really mad, and they tell me that I'm not mature enough to be going to school so far away and I need to get my shit together and stop depending on them. which. is probably true. but made me feel even more stupid about the fact that I crashed my car. I get back to school and I'm still Very Sick with no energy or motivation to do anything. So I've spent the last week trying to get better and honestly to do anything. it hasn't really worked. I'm a lot better health-wise (Not emotionally), still sick but I have a lot of work due, so I really need a push to get started

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nereidprinc3ss · 1 month

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Happy 2k babe! I have a request for fluffy Spencer smut based on the song "touch tank" by Quinnie! (the song gives me like golden retriever vibes so maybe you could put something about reader playing with his hair in there? I don't know I'm having later seasons fluffy hair Spencer brainrot and I never make requests, obviously feel free to ignore or change things if this is too specific! <3)

hi angel babe!!! i love this song!! and i too am always having later seasons fluffy haired spencer brainrot!! i wrote this super quick, please let me know if its any good, ILY!!! xo

warnings/tags: fem!reader, softdom!spence, sub reader, fingering, oral f receiving, sorta kinda overstimulation, implicit consent, praise n stuff, not proofread, written at 9 pm on a tuesday night, so fluffy

18+ (smut)

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

Spencer is clearly almost asleep on the couch next to you. That’s one of many things you find endlessly fascinating and charming about him—his ability to fall asleep anywhere at any time within minutes.

So you probably shouldn’t speak. But the stakes are low; it’s barely 7:30 in the evening.

“Spence?” You whisper. His eyes don’t open, but his thumb goes back to making little passes where it’s settled over your hip.

“Hm?”

“Don’t fall asleep.”

He smiles, slight but beautiful—yet his eyes remain stubbornly closed.

“Why not?”

“’Cause I want you to be awake.”

“Then you can’t keep playing with my hair like that.”

You pout as if he can see you.

“But I like playing with your hair.”

Spencer hums, and you can tell you’re losing him again as you continue carding your hand through stupidly soft locks.

“One or the other. You can’t have both.”

“I love you both, though,” you complain. “I don’t know who to pick.”

The grin has been steadily fading from his relaxed face but it flickers back to life for a moment.

“I’m getting a haircut tomorrow. That should make it easier for you.”

“What?”

It’s the genuine horror in your voice that finally gets him to open his eyes. A little line appears between his brows as he regards you with bleary eyes.

“What what?”

“You didn’t consult me!”

The momentarily tensed muscles in his face relax and he rolls his eyes affectionately before craning his neck to kiss your forehead.

“I’m not in the habit of requesting your approval before I make choices like that.”

“Spencer, please don’t cut your hair,” you beg, genuinely distraught. “You can’t. It’s so so pretty.”

“It’s too long, baby. I don’t want to grow it out again.”

“You don’t have to grow it out! Just don’t get it any shorter! It’s perfect how it is,” you insist. Spencer narrows his eyes as you plead with him. But you stand firm in your position. His hair is sort of shaggy, sure—too long to be considered cropped and too short to be considered long. It’s like a beautiful curly halo and it’s perfect playing-with length. “I’m serious. I’m asking you to not cut it short, please. This is what I want for my birthday.”

“Your birthday’s not even—”

“Pretty please with a cherry on top? I love your hair so much and I love you more but I just really don’t want you to cut it, please—”

He’s laughing when he silences you with a soft kiss, and you melt, sighing against him as his hand slides up and down the back of your thigh. When he knows you’ve been sufficiently soothed, he pulls away, still smiling.

“Oh my god, baby—are you about to cry?”

“Stop!” you whine, burying your face into a throw pillow and screwing your eyes shut. Your nose crinkles up with embarrassment. “Don’t laugh at me.”

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, and though he’s no longer outright laughing, traces of humor still color his lowered voice as he kisses all over the side of your face. “I had no idea you felt that way. I didn’t realize I’d be causing you so much emotional distress if I cut my hair.”

You sniffle away any unfortunate emotional reactions and turn your head back to him. He’s ducked down slightly, still peppering kisses over your jaw and neck, and you lace your fingers through the contentious hair.

“Obviously I’m not the boss of you. If it makes you uncomfortable I want you to cut it. But I really like it how it is.”

He hums against your throat and the vibrations send a chill down your spine. You arch against him unconsciously.

“You are definitely the boss of me. I don’t know anyone else who I like receiving orders from so much.”

“Hotch,” you whisper, and you can feel Spencer’s teeth against your neck as he smiles and presses another loving kiss to the sensitive spot above your collarbone.

“Not the kind of orders I was talking about. And I don’t particularly care what Hotch thinks of my hair, honey.” He kisses tenderly until he earns a tiny whimper from you—which sates him enough to raise his head until you’re eye-level again. His hand, however, has other plans—it creeps south, slipping under the waistband of your pajama pants. “What if we compromise? I just get it trimmed so it doesn’t keep getting in my eyes when I have a loaded gun in my hands, yeah?” You nod dutifully, looping your arms around his neck as his fingers dip beneath your underwear. When you don’t reply verbally, he prompts meaningfully, “okay?”

“Okay,” you whisper, voice small as you look into his searching eyes.

For a few moments, when he finally pushes his fingers against your clit and begins rubbing with slow, gentle strokes, his eyes are everywhere on your face—then they focus back on your eyes, watching with that habitually intense interest permeated with a sense of devotion—like he wants to see exactly what pleasure looks like reflected in your irises. Like he could see through them to your brain and watch your dopamine transmitters working overtime. A soft moan escapes through parted lips, which seems to spur Spencer on. He drags more arousal over your aching bud and openly chuckles at your airy sigh of pleasure, unable to resist from giving you a short kiss.

“Feels good?”

“Mhm,” you breathe.

“Mhm,” he agrees, kissing you again just as quickly before pulling back to study your face once more. “Pretty girl.”

“You’re pretty,” you insist, with what little brain power is available to you as you rake one hand through his hair. He smiles, eyes pinging between your own and your mouth like he can’t decide where to look.

“I’m pretty?” he asks, speaking over another quiet, yet unabashed moan. You nod, hips bucking slightly off the couch cushion as he speed up the motion of his hand. The grin widens and his soft amber eyes soften further. “You’re so sweet.”

You give him a moan he can’t ignore and he takes it as a signal to slip two fingers into you, sighing in what sounds like relief just as your breath catches. The way he seems to feel your pleasure will never get less erotic. Once he’d explained it—something to do with mirror neurons—but whatever the reason, watching the way his arousal rises with yours is exhilarating.

A squeaking sound is expelled from your lungs and your whole body tenses, propelling you maybe an inch upward involuntarily.

His lips part the same as yours—but only allowing another dry laugh to pass between them.

“Relax. I’ll come to you.”

You hum as he leans down and kisses you back into the pillow—a proper kiss, this time, lips parted and the tip of his tongue grazing yours—all the while, still pumping his fingers much deeper than your own could ever manage. Each moan and gasp he allows you to release freely, only barely parting from your lips every few seconds to let you breathe and make your noises. When his fingers begin pumping faster, and you can hear it, you whine, knees clamping shut as the small of your back jumps away from the couch.

“Fuck,” you pant against his lips.

“Need you to keep your legs open, baby,” Spencer reminds you gently, giving you a peck and a moment to relax as his hand stills.

“I don’t think I can,” you admit shyly, still wriggling. “Um, can you—can you use your mouth, please?”

Your boyfriend chuckles again and your cheeks get warmer. Momentarily you allow yourself to be grateful that his face is pressed too close to your own for him to be really be looking at you.

“You still have to keep your legs apart for that.”

“I know. It’s easier when—when you’re not inside.”

The smile in Spencer’s voice when he replies gives you butterflies as if he’s not knuckle deep in you already.

“I bet you think that’s true.”

“It is!” you whine.

“You’ve never had your thighs wrapped around your head so tightly your ears pop, have you?”

“That did not happen.”

“Only once,” Spencer reassures you. “And I happen to like your thighs. So no harm done. Go lie down on the bed.”

You let out a small chirp as he withdraws his fingers from you and your waistband snaps back into place against your skin.

“Where are you going?” you ask suspiciously, once you’re on semi-steady feet and watching him rise from the couch too. At once he kisses your forehead and grabs your ass—the contrast is dizzying.

“To wash my hands,” he says, popping the fingers that were just in you into his mouth like a preliminary clean up. “Go,” he urges, jutting his chin in the direction of the bedroom door. You hang from him just a second longer, biting back a smile, before tearing yourself away and only half-skipping to the bedroom.

Only a moment or two after you flop joyfully down on the mattress, he appears in the doorway again, immediately noticing the way you’re practically vibrating with excitement and unable to hide your grin as he approaches. It seems the smile is contagious—he’s sporting one of his own as he climbs over you.

“You’re adorable,” he murmurs toothily, kissing you once and then speaking again, “I love you so much.”

It’s exactly the kind of thing that makes you feel all soft and shy and giddy and speechless—even as he gives you one more parting kiss and then is sitting up to slide your pants off.

Maybe even especially then.

The sweetness dissipates only a little, still hanging thick in the air as you kick your bottoms off, and he leans back down, pushing your shirt over your chest and pressing kisses to your ribs and down your tummy. He doesn’t waste much time, only taking one brief detour to suck a mark and sink his teeth into your inner thigh until your breath catches loud enough to appease him. Then it’s all easy—his cool fingertips trailing up and down the backs of your thighs as he kisses all over and around your core. Intimacy with Spencer is definitely a spectrum, and while you can always feel the depth of his love for you in every touch, right now it’s so tangible, so potent you can feel it in your teeth.

You coo when one of the kisses finally sticks, lacing your fingers through the hair you love so much and pushing it out of the way as he laps gently at you. He looks as beautiful as always in the golden hour light as it filters through the window, but you’ve always thought he’s just that extra bit prettier when he’s eating you out.

Visually you’re entranced—it’s only when he begins easing you into the deep end with the flicking of his tongue that your brow knits and you gasp.

“Spencer,” you whisper, and it melds into a louder gasp. “Baby.”

He hums into you, reaching around your thigh to grab one of your wrists. You allow him to drag your hand from his hair and intertwine your fingers, his hand on top of yours, pressing them against your stomach where he sweeps his thumb back and forth over your knuckles.

The display of tenderness only makes you ache deeper in your belly, singing in airy, open-mouthed praise for him with a moan you know he would describe as pretty. Spencer says things like that often. He always talks about you like you’re an art form. When it comes to talking about touching you, he’s especially poetic.

When he begins to suckle, your moans get a little more explicit.

But he likes those ones just fine, too.

“Oh, fuck,” you breathe, though it’s a little choked, as you writhe just slightly against him. “That’s so good—oh my god.”

The hand that’s not holding yours rapidly changes position—pressing your thigh to the side with his elbow while he slips his fingers inside you once more.

At that, you really do choke, your body attempting to sit bolt upright but set off balance by the way your hips buck. You moan, loud, lilting, head still lifted to watch as he begins fucking you with his fingers. Your fingers brush through his hair several times before you’re anchoring your hand in it and falling back.

“Wh—please, baby, I can’t—”

But you can, and you both know it. You always do this; your body sends you signs that you’re over-indulging and fights to escape the stimuli and Spencer has learned to recognize your false flags for what they are. His hand speeds up along with his tongue and you cry out again, fighting to keep your legs open and your hips on the bed as every nerve in your body seems to light up neon.

“Oh—Spencer I’m gonna come,” you warn, all high pitched and synthesized into one word. He simply hums a long mhm in acknowledgment, and decides at that moment to brush his fingers over that spot inside of you which proves to be exactly the right button to trigger your detonation.

You can’t help the way you twist then as your orgasm washes you out—jaw dropped as your final keen starts loud, sputters into silence, and melts into an exhausted whine as your hips wind down. Spencer (wisely) adjusts his position, letting go of your hand only so he can sit up as your thighs clamp shut hard. But he’s still pumping his fingers as you writhe, his own mouth hanging open and groaning as you mewl. You watch him through half-lidded eyes, ready to beg him to stop—but as usual, he knows your body better than you do. An orgasm that you had thought was on its way out gets a second life and you can’t even breathe as you feel it so deep within you, pinpointed to one spot of focus, that you have to curl in on yourself, keeling onto your side because it’s simply too intense.

Either your vision goes black or your eyes are simply closed—regardless, time ceases for an unquantifiable moment, and you come to with Spencer rubbing your back and murmuring your name.

“What did I do to you?” he laughs, not unkindly.

Your back arches as mild aftershocks trickle through your system.

“I don’t know,” you slur. “Dark magic.”

He allows himself to be pulled on top of you once more, and you tangle your hands in his hair again.

“But you’re okay?” he murmurs, using his dry hand to play with your hair and brush over your cheek.

“Mhm,” you nod, eyes fluttering shut once more. Then you laugh, sudden and unexpected to both of you. “I think. That was intense. I felt that one in my soul.”

You smile as he exhales a laugh against your skin.

“Okay,” Spencer sighs after you catch your breath, bumping his nose against yours before sitting up—this time, not allowing you to pull him back down. “I need to take a shower. You should come with me.”

“Five more minutes,” you mumble. He raises his eyebrows.

“But this is your last chance to wash my hair before it’s a whole inch shorter tomorrow.”

“Oh,” you laugh, but it turns deadly serious very quickly. “Spencer, I am not letting you cut a whole inch off your hair. I need that inch.”

“For what?” He snorts.

You smile big, glad he didn’t see your joke coming for once.

“Handles! Duh!”

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