#i got more tattoos and now my brain is happy again

[redhairedwolfwitch]

The waiting list for tattoos is so much shorter than any waiting list for therapy...

[yeonzzzn]

I'm in a spooky vibe rn and I've been thinking about one of the enha members (hyung line) with a scream mask ( y'know from the movie sjshsj) about to m*rder reader but idk they get turned on and both got freaky 🫦

fffuuuuccccckkkk anon your brain is 😍 love this idea so much (fun fact scream is my favorite slasher movie and I even have a ghost face tattoo) I hope this is exactly what you’re looking for🤭 it’s funny because I also main ghost face in dead by daylight so when I saw this request I got SOOOO happy ~ I also made this a lot longer than I expected to but oops🤭🤭

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chill & kill: sim jaeyun

part one of chilling & killing 🔪 | spotify playlist

pairing: jake x afab!reader word count: 6.4k

You sit up on the couch, eyes widening as you grab the TV remote and turn up the volume. 

“The mysterious ghost face kill strikes again, killing two more college students in the library this morning. The bodies were discovered by…”

You quickly shot to your feet, grabbing your jacket and camera and slipping your feet into your boots tying them quickly as you slipped out your dorm door. 

You never were so happy to live on campus as you ran from the dorm building and across campus to the library. Students surrounded the main entrance and you pushed your way through finally seeing the inside of the library. 

“Hey!” a police officer yelled at you when you slipped under the caution tape, “You can’t be back here!” 

You eyed him, pulling out your student journaling ID, “I have every right to be here.” 

The officer tried to protest, but you kept your stride, making your way to the bodies ignoring the yelling officer behind you. 

The closer you got, the more the smell of blood filled your senses, making your skin crawl. Your journaling partner was already on the scene, standing at the edge of the other caution tape marking off the two bodies. 

You stood beside him, your heart sinking as you took in the bodies of the two females lying dead in front of you. They were just freshmen. Barely made it into college and fully started their lives. 

From what you could see, they were stabbed multiple times in the chest and abdomen. One of their necks was slit, and the other looked like they were stabbed through their throat. They suffered, for sure. 

“Who found them?” you asked him, taking your eyes off the dead bodies and turning to your partner. He had one arm crossed over his chest and gripped his elbow as his other arm was reached up and fingers gripping his chin. 

He slowly tilted his head to look at you, streaks of his black hair fell into his eyes, “Funny enough,” he sighs, “Sunghoon and myself.” 

You completely turned your whole body to him, “That’s why you’re here before me?! Jake, what happened?!” 

Jake chucked, “You're more worried that I was here before you?” you narrowed your eyes at him, and he sighed again, completely wrapping his arms over his chest, looking back at the bodies. You could have sworn you saw a sparkle glint in his eyes. Jake has always been excited to be on the scene, same as you. But he enjoyed it a little bit more than you. He’ll make one damn good detective one day for sure, “Wanted to check out a book and saw the door already unlocked for the campus not even fully being opened yet. And that's when we found the bodies.” 

“Where is Sunghoon now?” you asked, looking around the library, spotting him with the librarian and being questioned by a detective. 

You went to walk over, to ask him questions, but Jake stopped you, putting a hand on your shoulder and pulling you towards him, his arm wrapping around over your chest, “Don’t question him, he’s really shaken up,” You wanted to protest, only for Jake to squeeze you tightly against him, your back pressing further into his chest, “Please, YN, he’s my best friend. I’ll take care of it. I promise.” 

You sigh and nod. Letting Jake take the lead with this one. 

But you still had a job to do. So you pulled out your camera, taking a few photos. Once you finished with the photos, you pulled your journal from your back pocket, asked Jake a few questions, and took his account down then turned back to the bodies and took your own notes. 

You circled the area, taking in every inch and piece of information you could. Jotting down everything in your little notebook. 

Jake kept his eyes on you, watching you do your thing. His eyes sparkled more the longer his eyes lingered on you. He eventually dropped his gaze and went back to looking at his best friend, watching as he sat at one of the tables, knees pressed to his chest and hands curled into his hair. The small smile Jake had fell at the sight of his best friend and—

“Jake!” You called for him, bringing his attention back to you, “I think I found something.” 

“Oh?” He walks over to you and kneels down on the floor beside you, your camera resting on your knees as you point your finger toward one of the dead girls, “What am I looking at honey?” 

You groaned and rolled your eyes, “Under her body, there’s a black glove,” you looked at Jake. His jaw clenched tightly, “The killer must have accidentally lost it, dropped it, or whatever. Maybe she fought them or something. I don’t know. But I want to figure it out.” 

You took a few close-up photos of the glove and turned back around to show Jake, noticing a scratch mark sliding down the left side of his neck. You hadn’t seen it before since you were standing on his right side, but it looked deep and irritated, “What happened there?” You reached up to touch it, but he grabbed your hand quickly and set it down at your side. 

“Hoon and I were wrestling earlier at our apartment and I hit the side of our entertainment center, I am fine.” 

You thinned your lips into a line, boys will be boys you guess. Their apartment was a lot smaller than the dorms on campus, they must have been fucking around at a good spot to have knocked Jake into their entertainment center. 

Eventually, the police shooed you and Jake off the scene. Forcing you two to head to the journaling office. You printed off the photos you took and made copies of your notes, passing them to Jake. 

You glanced at the clock, it was now ten thirty am and classes would be resuming like normal, so you and Jake went your separate ways. 

Jake was still new to being a journalist. You were a club of two, consisting of just you and another girl who helped write the articles for you while you took care of the rest. She wrote her own things, mostly on the sports or other small crimes that happen on campus, but with the ghost face killer making his rounds, you took up the role of this case with her helping on the side. At first, you took it all on yourself, but as the body count started piling up, you needed the help. So you let her help and put out an application for an extra set of hands, which Jake answered. 

You’ve seen him around campus before he joined you. Was born and raised in this town. Being the town's sweetheart and golden puppy boy. You did some research on him before allowing him into your club, can’t have the killer join you, right?

He was the captain of his soccer team in middle and high school. Has taken his school’s team to the championships multiple times and was the heartthrob of the school. He donated to charity when he could and volunteered at the police station on the weekends in hopes of landing a good detective job there after graduation. He was the whole definition of a straight-A good boy student. Perfect for your team. He became your partner and you taught him everything you knew. When Jake joined, the body count from this ghost face killer was only three. But with the two bodies that were found today, it was now at fifteen. 

In between your classes, you found yourself back at the club office, pinning the new photos to the corkboard in the back of the room, wrapping red string between the pushpins and possible suspects. After staring at the corkboard for what felt like hours, the other female club member came in and you helped her write the article. Give her your notes and advising as she writes. 

Jake popped in and out of the office as well, brainstorming with you about the suspects and the time of events that happened. You both spun in circles that led to nowhere. You ask Jake again about speaking to Sunghoon, and he shoots you down, “Give him some time. I’ll get the police report soon and it’ll help, I am sure.” 

A week has gone by since the murder in the library. You ended up shifting the corkboard from the office and into the corner of your kitchen, using the fluorescent light of the kitchen bulbs to light the board more. You leaned against the back of your couch, it being the furthest you could step away from the board. Biting at your nails as your eyes scanned every murder case. Every newspaper article and police report on the board. 

Nothing made sense. Nothing connected. Whoever this killer was, they were good. Covered their tracks without so much as a piece of hair at any scene of their crimes. Until the glove. 

You ran your hands into your long hair, scratching at the back of your head. You needed that police report that Jake still has yet to give you. Needed to speak to Sunghoon. There were missing pieces and those two things were important. You looked over to the clock above the kitchen sink. It was almost one thirty in the morning. But you still got up and slid into your sneakers, pulled your jacket on, and bounced out the door. 

Finding yourself in front of Jake and Sunghoon’s front door, knocking loudly. There was no answer. So you did the next best thing and called Jake’s cell phone. 

There was some shuffling on the other end of the door and a groan. The door opened and you find a half-awake Jake before you, his hair a mess and spreading in every direction, wearing a plain white tee shirt and a pair of black and blue checkered boxers, “YN,” he sleepily growled and then yawned, “It’s almost two am, what is it?” 

“Can I have the police report?” 

Jake blinked at you, “Huh?” 

You crossed your arms, “The police report. Can I have it?” 

Jake let out another yawn, “It’s at the school, in the office.” 

Of course, it was. And the campus is closed and if you get caught sneaking in just to get a piece of paper…You sigh, “Thanks anyway,” you softly say, and turn around to walk down the stairs but stop, “Can I talk to Sunghoon?”

Jake scoffs, leaning against the doorframe, “It’s almost two am,” he repeats, “Why are you out here so late? There’s a literal killer running around here.” 

You knew that. And still took that risk to come out here. The killer had to be a student at your college. Every murder had been college kids. It had to be another student. That’s what made being out here so dangerous. 

“I know,” you shrugged, “But I can’t stand by and do nothing.” 

Jake frowned, “You know you’re allowed to actually be a college student right? Live a normal life too?” you shrugged again, and he just scoffed again, “YN, go home and rest. Let the detectives with actual badges handle it. We can only do so much.” 

You narrow your eyes at him, “Let me speak to Sunghoon.” 

Jake stands his ground, “No. Go. Home. Before you get yourself killed.” 

You roll your eyes, “See you tomorrow then.” 

Jake mimicked your words and watched as you walked down the steps before walking back inside and going back to sleep. 

You didn’t understand why Jake was so against you speaking to Sunghoon. Maybe he was being protective? Sunghoon didn’t look the best after finding the bodies. He was probably so shaken up. But it only made you want to speak to him more. And that need only grew more when you noticed Sunghoon’s car wasn’t in its normal parking spot beside Jake’s. 

Meaning he wasn’t home. 

You’ve respected Jake’s wishes on not to talk to Sunghoon, but this matter was getting serious and Sunghoon just might be the big break you needed. So you quickly walked off the apartment complex, glancing back to make sure Jake was outside, and pulled your phone from your pocket as you kept walking and dialed a number. 

“Hello?” 

“Sunghoon, where are you right now?” 

—

You found him atop the bleachers of the soccer field just like he said he would be. A soccer ball sat between his feet, grass scuff marks were at the ends of his jeans, and sleeves of his hoodie rolled up to his elbows and sweat dripped down the side of his face. It didn’t take a genius to figure out he came here to kick the ball around. Probably as a distraction. 

You sat down beside him, “How are you holding up?” 

Sunghoon scoffs, “Holding up as in a week ago I found two dead bodies in the middle of the library or holding up because I’ve been questioned left and right by everyone or my best friend/roommate has smothered me to stay home and take time.” 

You felt bad for him, mostly for what you’re about to ask him. He wanted to obviously forget what he saw, who could blame him? It takes special people to see a dead body and not be fazed by it. 

“I’m sorry for asking you to do this again…” 

Sunghoon just shrugs, “If I am being honest, I’ve wanted to talk to you for a while now.” 

You raised your brow, “Yeah?” 

He nodded, “Jake was against it,” he took a deep breath, “Something was off that day…with him.” 

“What do you mean?” You placed a hand on his knee, “You can tell me anything. Start with the beginning.” 

Sunghoon looked you in your eyes, then looked off into the distance at the field, “He told me that morning he was meeting our coach, for a one-on-one coaching session. At first, I didn’t think anything about it, being he was a soccer prodigy or whatever.” You nodded, remembering how much of the soccer star Jake was back in high school, “So you could probably understand my surprise when I got a call from our coach saying he tried to get ahold of Jake and then he confirmed with me that they did in fact not have a meeting that day.” 

You sat back against the bleacher seat behind you, staring off onto the field, letting the gears in your brain slowly turn, waiting for Sunghoon to continue. 

“I got scared, rushing out of the apartment and searching everywhere for him. Scared and thinking I was going to find my best friend murdered somewhere, ya know?” You understood, with this killer on the loose everyone was watching their backs and afraid. Who would be next? Who is next? “But I found him, lingering around the library building, digging through his soccer duffle bag. My heart almost stopped when I saw him…alive,” he took a deep breath, “So I confronted him, and he played it off that he did have a practice, but was with his coach from high school.” 

You looked back at him, to read his face. Seeing how pale his skin was becoming, “I believed him at first, thinking maybe I misheard that morning. So we started walking back, but he kept digging through the duffle bag, looking frantic. He wasn’t acting himself. Said something about needing to go to the library, about finding a book or something, and then took off. But I followed after him. I didn’t want to leave him alone, not with ghost face running around. But when I got to the library, I…couldn’t find him. I saw him go through the back door instead of the front. But once I walked in and noticed all the doors were already unlocked…then I found the bodies.” 

You squeezed his knee, “It’s okay.” 

He nodded, swallowing and looking down at the soccer ball, “I smelt the blood first and then noticed their bodies. And then…then there were footsteps behind me and I knew that I was next. But the library walked in through the front entrance and started screaming, her eyes darting to me, saying we did it. I turned around to see Jake standing behind me. His skin was pale and sweaty. Eyes wide as he stared back at me and then at the bodies and the librarian. He’s never been surprised to see the bodies. He’s been working with you for over half a year. So when I saw the look on his face…the surprise that was there.” 

You opened your mouth to speak, but Sunghoon kept going, “The weirdest thing is his duffle bag was missing from his shoulder,” Sunghoon scoffs, “How did it just disappear.” It was a good question. A very good one. “He hasn’t been the same since then.” 

You tried to lighten the mood, “Maybe you knocked something loose in his head when the two of you wrestled the other day.” Sunghoon gave you a confused look, “You know? He said you two got too close to your TV stand and he got scuffed up by the edge of it. Making a scratch on his neck,” you pointed to the right side, tracing a finger down the side of your neck to mimic where Jake has his slowly fading scar now, “It’s right here.” 

Sunghoon raised a brow, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. We haven’t wrestled inside the apartment.” Your smile faded. Sunghoon’s phone started vibrating and he pulled it from his pocket, seeing Jake’s caller ID on the screen, “Guess he noticed I wasn’t home.” Sunghoon locked his phone, ignoring the call, “I haven’t been telling him when I’ve left the apartment. So I better prepare myself with a talk when I get back.” He stood up and started walking down the bleachers, “Thank you for listening to me, I don’t want to suspect my best friend, and it probably isn’t even him. He’s just weird, I guess.” 

You watched as he disappeared before standing up and finally finding yourself back at your dorm and in bed. Replaying Sunghoon’s story over and over, trying to piece it all together. It still didn’t make sense. None of it did. Nevertheless, it didn’t stop you from texting Jake, asking him to meet you at your dorm as soon as he could tomorrow, and him responding he had soccer practice but would be here right after. 

—

“You should really keep your front door locked, YN, there’s a killer out there.” Jake teased you as he made himself at home, dropping his duffle bag into a chair at your kitchen table, his eyes going to the corkboard, “Make any progress yet?” 

You stared down at the duffle bag quickly before looking up at him, then back to the board, “No I haven’t. I left my door unlocked on purpose. Knew you’d be coming here.” 

Jake smiled at you and stood beside you at the back of your couch, looking at the board, “We’ll catch him, don’t worry honey.” 

You glanced at him slightly, your heart winced at the nickname he’d given you. You looked to his neck, seeing the scratch still healing but faded, being nothing more than a pink line. 

Jake looked down at you, giving a smile, “Can I freshen up in your bathroom? I bet I don’t smell the greatest from practice.” 

You scrunch your nose, “Yes, please. You smell.” 

Jake just rolls his eyes playfully and slides his hand up and down your back quickly before leaving your side, “I’m stealing your deodorant.” 

You waited until you saw him turn the corner and heard the bathroom door close and lock before slowly walking to his duffle bag. 

You didn’t want to suspect Jake anymore than Sunghoon did. But his story last night didn’t add up. No part of it did. Jake’s actions didn’t add up. Jake’s story he gave you didn’t match Sunghoon’s or the librarian's. None of the pieces were adding up no matter how much you tried to force the pieces together. 

You looked down the hallway, then back at the bag, and slowly unzipped it, your hand flying to your mouth quickly to stop any noise from coming out. You took a couple of deep breaths and continued looking into the bag. 

The police report you asked for along with the glove from the scene of the crime was in the bag in a ziplock bag. Along with the other matching glove and the ghost face mask and the black suit. You pulled the mask out of the bag with shaky hands. Why did Jake have these items? You knew. You knew why and still tried to find another explanation. But after seeing the contents of his bag…the pieces of the puzzle fit. Everything clicked and made sense. 

“Don’t you know it’s rude to go through people’s things, honey?” before you could move, a knife was pressed to your neck and his other arm was wrapped around your waist, “I expected better from you than to snoop around.” 

Jake’s hot breath was hitting your ear, sending chills down your spine. Any doubts you had were now out the window. Jake is ghost face. Jake is the killer. 

“Keeping secrets is very rude too,” you retorted back, dropping the mask back into his bag, “But I figured you already knew that I found out, hint why you leave your bag so easily for me to look through.” 

Jake chuckles, squeezing his arm around you and pressing the knife further against your skin, “Can’t get anything past you, can I?” 

“Why?” you asked, tilting your head at the movement of him brushing the side of his face to yours. 

“Why did I do it?” he nuzzled his nose on the shell of your ear, “You’ll need to be specific, honey.” 

You swallowed, “Everything.” 

Jake chuckles again, “Because it’s fun.” It was such a simple yet spine-chilling answer, “You think I played this fucking good boy persona because I actually wanted to? No, no. I had to play that persona. To hide my secret. This is all a game to me, YN.” 

“It’s why you joined our club,” you swallowed again, “To make it harder for us to figure you out.” 

Jake shrugs, gently biting at the shell of your ear then rubbing his nose against it again, “I thought it would add to the fun, honestly. Yeah having an inside made it so much easier. It covered my tracks well. Until you started picking up on every. Fucking. Thing.” he hissed, tightening his grip, “You made it harder to cover up my tracks. Picking apart every smallest thing with each murder. I was lucky you didn’t suspect me, that was until you started poking your nose more into my business, you don’t think I didn’t know you tore the office apart looking for the police report before coming to my apartment? That you talked to Sunghoon even after I told you not to?” 

“You have our phones and the office bugged,” this should surprise you, but it doesn’t. It made sense. 

He pressed his lips to your ear, “Smart girl. Think I wouldn’t bug your phone? Or my best friends?” 

“Jake, you were going to kill him, weren’t you.” 

Another low chuckle, “Yes,” your body stilled, feeling cold, “It would have been a pity, really, to kill off my best friend all because he also stuck his nose where he shouldn’t have.” 

You looked down at his bag, seeing the bag gloved, “You went back to the library for the glove, you fucked up.” 

He growled in your ear, “Shut up! That bitch fought me instead of taking it. I didn’t even realize my glove was gone until after I murdered them both and fled the scene. That’s when Sunghoon showed up. I knew I had to go back and find where the fuck my glove went before someone else did. I didn’t know he was following me until I went to go back and check the bodies after tearing apart the other side of the library and saw him standing there. I quietly set my bag in one of the reading rooms and locked the door, slipping my knife into the back of my jeans. Preparing myself to kill my best friend.”

“All to keep your fucking secret,” you snapped at him, his hands on your body getting tighter.

“Watch it, honey,” he hissed, “You do have a knife to your throat right now.” 

“She fought you right? Probably knocked off your mask too. She saw your face, and you acted quickly and sliced her throat. Not before she left her own scratch on your neck.” 

Jake nodded, a wide smile on his face, “Nothing gets past you. You’d make a great detective someday, honey.” 

You needed to turn him in. Needed to get out of here and turn him in before he could kill anyone else. Fifteen. He’s murdered fifteen people. Probably more before he took up the ghost face mantle.

Jake pressed his chest to your back, “You know,” he whispers, “I’ve dreamed about doing this with you, my knife to your throat,” he rocked his hips against your ass, “It’s so fucking hot.” 

It was now or never. You tilted your head to the side, taking the skin of his forearm between your teeth and biting hard. 

“Fuck!” he shouted, his hand flexing and dropping the knife to the floor and his grip on you loosening. 

You pushed him back with your back and sent him falling to his ass. You barely made it two steps away from him before both of his hands were on your ankles, tripping you to the floor and pulling you towards him. 

You kicked your legs but not getting out of his strong grip. Jake worked fast to flip you over onto your back, his hands now at your wrists and holding them up and above your hand, pinning them to the floor. He straddled you, locking his legs around yours to keep you from wiggling them. 

“Stop fighting me!” he growled, using all his weight to pin you to the floor. 

You stopped, chest rising and falling as you stared up at his beautiful killing face. 

He held your wrists down with one hand and reached for his knife with the other, chuckling as he once again held the knife to your throat, “You look so pretty like this baby, all underneath me like this.” 

Jake was so turned on by this. He’s only dreamed of having you pinned underneath him with his favorite weapon against your skin. Dreamed what you’d sound and look like. This passed his expectations. It went even further than that. His cock twitched in his pants seeing the look of anger all over your face. 

“You get horny every time you kill someone?” you spat out at him, the fire in your eyes burning. 

Jake cocked his head, “You’re not afraid of me?” 

“Why would I be afraid of a horn dog who likes killing people?” 

Jake laughs, adjusting his legs from yours, using his knees to spread your legs apart, sliding himself between them, “Baby, you’re the only one I’ve ever got horny over. The others were just killings to kill. But you? You do something to me.” 

From the moment Jake first saw you on campus he wanted to be buried balls deep in your cunt. Wanted to fuck you so hard as he softly made cuts on your arms to watch you bleed as your moans of pain and pleasure filled his ear holes. Wanted to cum so deep within you and make you his. 

He had more than just joined the club to hide his killings as his reason. He wanted to get closer to you, get to know you. Then kill you after he got his dick wet. But what he didn’t expect was you figuring him out so soon. His plans got pushed up. He wanted you afraid of him as he killed you. He didn’t expect you to look at him with fury, so unafraid. 

Jake leaned down, being inches away from your face, the knife pressing harder against your neck, “You get me so hard,” he rocked his hips between you, his hard cock rubbing against your clothed cunt. You tried to not whimper, to keep your firm face, but the effect he was having on you down south was obvious. He wasn’t stupid, you knew that. 

You’d be lying if you said you haven’t been crushing on Jake since he walked into the club for the first time. How couldn’t you? He was perfect. Still was as he sat atop you with a knife to your neck. 

You relaxed your body, “If you’re going to kill me, then do it.” 

Jake smiled, “Want me to?” He released your hands from his grip and slid the knife from your neck and down to your shirt, his free hand looping his fingers at the collar, using the knife to cut a line, tearing the fabric and exposing your laced bra and skin. Jake tucked his lip between his teeth. Fuck you looked so much better than what you did in his dreams. So much better than he imagined. He slid the tip of the knife down your chest, rounding it around your breast and down your sternum, “Where should I start?” He placed both hands at the sides of your head and bent down, lips brushing against yours, “Tell me, baby.” 

You lifted your head, connecting your lips to his. Taking in the taste of his cherry chapstick and the softness of his lips. He rocked his hips against yours, moaning into your mouth, “Start by taking the rest of my clothes off.” 

He laughs against your lips and then pulls away, setting the knife down at your side to pull his famous white tee shirt off his body, “Yeah?” you nodded, eyes darting to his bare chest and abs, “So fucking dirty,” he cooed, “Should have known you were into killers.” 

You sat up on your elbows, ready to reach for the button of his jeans, but found the knife back in his hand and the tip pointing at your chest, “Lay back down, baby, no need to be so impatient.” 

His free hand touched your shoulder and gently pressed you back to the floor. You kept your eyes on him as he unbuttoned his jeans, the knife still in hand as he wiggled out of his jeans and boxers, leaving him bare to you. 

You watched as he took his length between his fingers, slowly pumping himself, him biting his lips. You were growing too impatient. Needing to feel him against you, in you, “Jake,” 

“Shhh, honey,” he whispers, dropping his hands to your shorts, “I know.” 

The cool metal of the knife brushed your skin as he pulled your shorts and panties down your thighs. Goosebumps formed on your skin and making Jake chuckle, enjoying this more than he’d thought, “You love the way my knife feels against you?” He tossed your clothing somewhere off into the void of the room, settling himself back between your legs, his tip prodding your entrance, “love the way it feels to glide against your skin?” He sent the knife sliding up your tummy, his hips pushing his cock in your pussy, slowly stretching you. 

Jake bottomed out, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix. He hissed out in pure pleasure of finally being buried so deep inside you, the pleasure of how fucking good you felt wrapped around him, “fuck baby,” he smiles, sliding the knife to your waist, wanting to cut open your skin and see how pretty your blood would look pooling out, “feel so good and I’m not even moving.” 

You bucked your hips up against him, wanting to feel any kind of friction. Jake drops the knife to the floor, his hands pinning your arms above your head again, “I told you to stop being so impatient.” 

“Jae, please,” you begged, wrapping your legs around his waist, “I need you.” 

Hearing you beg for him had him gone and all he cared about now was fucking you. To make you feel so good until you’re cumming around his dick. 

Jake started out slow, burying his face in your neck, “Why aren’t you afraid, hmm? I could kill you right now.” 

You leaned into him, squeezing your legs tighter on him to push him even further into you, “Because I have secrets of my own.” 

Jake chuckled, bucking his hips harder and faster into yours, his lips pressing to yours. Tongue sliding down your throat and exploring your mouth. One hand leaving yours to cup your breast, his thumb and index finger pinching your nipple, “Tell me your secrets.” 

“You already seem to know them all, stalker,” you hissed, throwing your head back against the floor at him pinching your nipple harder in the same movement of him pushing his dick hard against your cervix, pressing so hard to break whatever barrier that was stopping him from completely filling you whole as his hip bones knocked against yours. 

“Tell me anyway,” he whispers between kisses, now sliding his mouth down to your ear, licking the shell of it, “I don’t know what you haven’t texted or physically talked about.” 

“I have feelings for you,” you felt insane saying it out loud. Felt crazy that you even admitted it to him. To the person who was fucking you into pure bliss. To a murderer, “I’m obsessed with you, Jake.” 

Jake bit down into your neck, both of his hands sliding underneath you to wrap at your shoulders, fucking his hips against you faster. His teeth sank into your skin tearing it slightly, a small sprinkle of blood escaping. 

“Fuckkkk,” he moans, tasting the brassy liquid on his tongue, “Even your blood tastes good.” 

He was fucking crazy. You knew he was. But everything about him drew you to him. Made you want him more. 

And him hearing how obsessed you were with him made him even crazier about you. 

“Such a good girl,” he cooed, “Letting me fuck you like this, looking so pretty for me this way.” He bucked his hips faster, adjusting his legs on the floor to spread yours even wider, giving him more access to hit your weak spots and to hit them just right. 

You pulled at his hair, “Jake!” you moaned out his name, the knot in your stomach threatening to snap, “I’m going…fuck…I’m going to cum.” 

“Please,” he groaned, “Cum for me baby,” he sticks his tongue out, flattening it against the bite he left on your shoulder, licking up the new blood that pooled out, “fucking cum around my cock for me, honey.” 

A few more thrusts and you came around him. Tingles spread throughout your body at the feeling of your release. Jake moans at feeling the mess you’ve made on his cock, him working his dick faster in your cunt to chase out the release he wants. The one he’s dreamed about having with you. His hand only did so much for him with his thoughts while back at his apartment. But now he was balls deep in your sweet pussy, having you right where he wanted you. 

“Gonna cum soon,” he panted, hands squeezing your shoulders, “fuck I want to cum in this cunt so bad.”

You pulled at his hair harder, the overstimulation hitting you hard, “Jae, I can’t—“

“I know, baby,” he pressed his forehead against yours, his brows furrowing and eyes shut tightly, “Going to fill this pussy to the brim, understand? This pussy is mine.” 

Jake pressed a kiss to your lips and lifted up, taking your legs and pressing them to your chest, pistoning into you faster but sloppy, “Shit,” he hissed, “Fixing to cum—fuck—I’m cumming, honey, I’m cum—“ one final thrust, and his white ropes spilled into you. He pressed his hips against you and held them there, making sure every last drop of his cum made it deep within, none to be wasted. 

“Fuck,” he cursed, slowly lifting himself back up and dropping your legs back to the floor, “Sex with you was so much better than in my head. I only dreamt how good this pussy would feel. How good it’d feel to cum in you.” 

Jake was definitely more obsessed with you than you were with him. And he honestly didn’t care how obvious it was. 

“Fuck I am in love with you.” he chuckles, his hands rubbing up and down your thighs. 

You tilted your head to the side, seeing the knife sitting there idle. Jake clocked where your eyes landed, but he wasn’t fast enough as you quickly grabbed it, being the one who now held the knife to his throat, the fire in your eyes back. 

Jake might have just came, but his dick twitched and hardened again between the walls of your fuck hole. His crazy smile is so wide and his eyes so lustful. Seeing you so ready to end him right here and now made him crazier. Made him crave you even more. 

He wouldn’t kill you now. No, no. How could he kill the love of his life? How could he slide that knife into your skin and cut you open? You were precious to him, more than what he thought before. Maybe the sex drew him in, but you weren’t getting away from him that easily. 

“Awe, babe,” he cooed, taking your wrist in his hand and slowly removing the knife from your hand, “This is how this will go now,” he tossed the knife across the room and out of reach, pinning your arms back to the floor, slowly rocking his hips, “You will keep your fucking mouth shut, got it? Close this ghost face case and if anyone asks you don’t know anything about it. Give it up. All for me, okay baby?” 

You nodded, not being able to say no to those brown eyes. It was toxic, whatever relationship you just found yourself in. You became that girl in books and movies who fell for the killer. It surprises you at how fast you were willing to drop everything for him. To keep his secret. 

He kisses you gently and fucked you on the floor until you both came again and again and again. 

What did you get yourself into?

— perm taglist: @alvojake @ikeuverse @woniebae @shawnyle @kangnina @jwnghyuns @in-somnias-world @zyvlxqht @aaa-sia @wonniethepoo @addictedtohobi @eneiyri @sparklovespink @skzenhalove @fakeuwus @cherry-park @vousty @ladyartemesia @psh9 @cmoundiamante @enhaverse713586 @wondipity @lhsvibez

[gloxk]

Think she grippin’ on my dick but that’s my gun baby~

(Eren Y.)

A/n: Lil sum sum— srry fa neglecting yall. My schedule is so fuckkkkkeedd. But, I got sum more ‘plug’ eren comin up for my luvz. Anyway I hope yall enjoy this my luvz🫶🏽!

Synopsis: First link w Eren Yeager after not seeing him in a long time. ♥︎

Warning (s): Gun kink , dirty talk, Eren talking you through it, Mentions of drugs, riding an inanimate object, f/m, Uhm like reader calls him sir? Pet names, Needy s*x, Smut, ovi. girl yk the deal 17+ around here!

━━━━━━━♥︎━━━━━━━

You kicked your feet while biting your bottom lip, “Yeah, I know you miss me, baby.” You cheesed at his comments. Eren knew exactly what to say, his words were so sweet and slick. “Of course I miss you ren. When you gon come see me?” You heard his music blaring through his speakers. This boy really had you thinking about him every second of the day and night. “Whatchu mean? I’m outside right now ma.” You nearly took flight running down to the front door. It felt like time was nothing more than a mere interference with your speed. You swung your door open , your smile instantly dropped looking at your empty driveway “Fucking asshole, you lied.” He cackled as if you said something funny. “Nah I’m here.” He flicked his head lights grabbing your attention, you forgot his car was completely black. You didn’t understand why he would make his Hellcat so dark. Didn’t he want people to see it?

You smiled seeing him get out of his car, he looked so fucking fine in his Nike tech. To say you were nervous was an understatement, you were terrified. Knees nearly buckled as Eren approached the door. You gulped back your salvia, it felt like swallowing a golf ball. “Heyyy baby.” His lips met your cheek, it’s been so long since you saw Eren. His voice held a sweet tang and a long draw to it. His fragrance was a mix of Dior Sauvage and Backwoods. His eyes spoke for themselves; red and low. “Eren—are you high?” you pulled his face closer to yours. Examining his eyes—yeah, he was fucking hammered. “When am I not?” He flashed his pearly whites, you always wonder how he got his teeth so nice and white. If perfection was a human it had to be him, there was no visible flaw within that man. “You gonna smoke your brain away if you keep it up.” You closed the door and walked with him up to your bedroom. Eren looked at you with a soft expression, his eyes locked on to yours. “Aww, you care about me, baby? Fine, I guess I have no choice but to do as you wish.”He jokingly replied. Eren didn’t have many people who cared for him, so it was nice to know you were one of the very few.

Eren found himself in your bed once again, he nuzzled into your neck while a basic Netflix movie played. He wasn’t particularly interested in the movie, and you were aware of this. But he acted like he was excited to watch it. Your hands ran over his thigh grazing over his dick. Fingertips wrapping around it. “Damn Ren, you must be very happy to see me huh?” you giggle sinking into your bed lining. Eren's dark jade eyes met yours, the lower part of his face was covered by his hand. Unbeknownst to you, he had a new hand tattoo; a skeleton face—damn he looked fine. “That ain’t my dick, that’s my gun baby.” He laid on his back, his shirt slightly lifting revealing the weapon. You couldn’t resist wrapping your fingers around the handle of his gun; it was calling your name. You held it in your hand admiring the weapon, it alone held the power to remove a soul from this world.

“You like it?” he took the gun away from your grasp. He parted your thighs placing the cold metal against your cunt. “Yes sir.” You bit your lip at the sheer cold touching you. The hairs on your neck stood up, it was so dangerous, it turned you on. He slid your panties over letting the blistering cold metal meet your pussy. The gun started at a gentle pace, moving slowly against your clit. Erens lips occupied your neck; kissing and sucking it. His tongue lightly brushed over your collarbone, you felt his tongue piercing glide against your skin. You rutted hard against his gun trying to relieve the built-up pressure in your abdomen. You didn’t want his gun, you wanted him. You wanted him to fuck you silly until you could no longer comprehend your surroundings. “Fuucck, I need more ren, I need you.” The gun hastily left your thighs. “I need you too ma.” His mouth met his glock licking your slick off of it. Eren's lips pressed firmly together creating a ‘mmm’ sound. He got on top of you pressing his chest against yours. You felt his bulge through his sweatpants, his dick was begging to be left free. He pulled his sweat pants down, just below his crotch panel. Your fingertips slipped under his elastic waistband; tugging his boxers downwards. His dick pounced out, an angry red color washed over his tip. “Fuck, it’s been too long.” He stroked his dick letting the bead of pre cum coat his tip. Eren slid inside inch by inch, he grunted feeling your heat. “Damn baby, I ain’t fuck you good in a minute huh? You miss this dick?” You nodded quickly, yes—you missed everything about him. His hand wrapped around your mouth looking at his tattoo covering your face. It turned him on seeing it on you— whether his hand was around your throat, mouth, or ass. It always looked so perfect on you.

Eren tugged your shirt up watching your tits bounce as he pounded into you. You tried to push him away from overstimulating your cunt “Nah, This what you wanted right? Take this dick.” He grabbed your legs and threw them over his shoulder, he fucked you faster making you scream out. You could have sworn you put holes in the sheets because you were gripping them so tightly. You threw your head back clenching around Erens cock. Your body jolted at your release, finally letting go of that pressure you once had. “Ahh- fuck-“ you moaned while subtly grinding against his abdomen. His pace faltered, but not ending, Eren didn’t stop fucking you until he came all over your stomach. By then you were already on your third orgasm. He positioned himself beside you kissing your neck while tracing circles on your arm. “I know you love that shit.” He sighed, he was a fool for you as you were for him. He loved looking at your fucked out expression knowing he was the reason you looked like that.

“Mhm, I do, I really fucking do.” He grabbed his gun again setting it down on your chest, “That’s my favorite gun now, ima get your name carved in it.” That gun will forever be by his side from now on.

━━━━━━━♥︎━━━━━━━

4 my whores.

[avisisisis]

been rewatching rtte

toothless is called T multiple times, but the letter T doesn't exist in the alphabet of this world

i think hiccup was also called H???

hiccup went to the wedding of the man who tried to kill him and his family multiple times. no wonder he thought he could change drago's mind

snotlout is canonically a theater kid

"you're so small and cuddly" "please never say that again"

the twins are really smart, but they're also just stupid

hiccup straight up disappears when he's working on something

heather had a super noticeable crush on astrid

fishlegs got a love interest!! a plus size main character actually has a cool, badass love interest!

it was super hetnormative but it was cute

there was an island full of flying women who were implied to regularly commit cannibalism

hiccup taught all the riders how to fly with toothless, that's so sweet

everyone is a flat earther except for the twins

hiccup almost directly killed a lot of people

and killed a LOT more when destroying their ships

“scalding– cal..ding--" "toothle, plama bla!" was pretty much the funniest part of the entire series

dagur was bullied as a kid by a guy 8 years older than him who literally tattooed an imagine of him beating up little dagur in his arm??? What was that all about

actually we need to talk about how messed up everything about dagur is and about how the things that could've/did happen(ed) to him may be the reasons why he's Like That

just why was he imprisoned by the outcasts??? he didn't do anything to them directly

oof my brain is spiraling. "he loved you" "ig now we'll never know" what do you mean he didn't know if his dad loved him

there's a technically musical episode

tuffnut became hiccup's defense attorney and immediately got him the death sentence

hiccup regularly jumps off cliffs

he also jumped off a boat, with his arms tied and without toothless. just where did he think he was going

snotlout's annoying attitude is actually because spitelout pressures him too much and he feels like he has to be perfect for his dad :((

THE 'HICCUP'S EVIL MIRROR' VILLAIN THEME DONE RIGHT YESS!!!

viggo is the best httyd villain change my mind (you can't, swords at sundown, you may bring backup but i will win on my own)

skrill comeback skrill comeback SKRILL COMEBACK!!!!

"COMEEE TO DADDY"

what is a boar pit???

oh my god i had missed this series so much. it has no right to be this funny

this was my childhood. it has forever shaped the way i am

berserker heather the unhinged >>>

actually good disability rep! yay

hiccup complains about his peg leg pinching him

he straight up cannot walk without it and it is shown many times

"well, there are the benefits of a metal leg" after it got caught in a bear trap

funny moments, like snotlout trying to steal it to use it as a weapon

the jokes!! toothless laughing at the jokes!!! hiccup being so fucking done with the twins, who are always making the jokes!

there's an episode where everyone is so sleep deprived they actually start spiraling

astrid becomes a happy go lucky girl, hugs snotlout and tells him he's handsome

the fucking mood swings snotlout got were insane

the twins were straight up just hallucinating

"i sent them to wash their dragons, how could they mess that up?" cut to heather falling on her face with a bucket full of water in her hands

fishlegs becomes so paranoid, he's yelling at everyone all the time

"don't you know the trapper's trap can trap the trapper?? ...oh gods, i must be losing it, i'm quoting dagur"

YOOOO VALKA!!!! it's so nice to see her

hiccup tried to murder dagur to stop him from getting to toothless, which is scary bc it shows just how far he's willing to go for his bff, but also funny because hiccup. that was not going to work

oh the hiccstrid slowburn, how i have missed you

the twins's made up language

there was a beach episode turned murder mystery and a musical episode held at gun point

hiccup has a whole little speech that he periodically gives astrid to remind her that the twins serve a purpose

[quin-ns]

ok ok ok but what about fem!reader going missing with jb and sarah at the end of season one and coming back to find that jj has her name tattooed on his arm when he thought she was gone

okay I’m actually so obsessed with this I think it triggered something in my brain (the angst aNd fluff??) 😳 irl I won’t advocate for getting names tattooed but in fiction? To have a man that dedicated-

Permanent (JJ Maybank x Reader)

The last thing you expected was the run into your best friends in Charleston. It seemed like something out of a dream, but it was really them.

You couldn’t imagine what it must’ve been like for all of them. They must’ve thought you were dead the way the boat collapsed. Hell, you thought you were a goner until you, Sarah, and John B were rescued. Of course that didn’t turn out as good as it could’ve, but you were on your way home now and that’s what mattered.

You didn’t even get to speak, JJ was slamming into you with the biggest hug you’d ever received in your life. Your boyfriend held you tight, one arm locked around your waist, while the other cradled your head against him like you might slip away.

It had happened before.

Chaos of the reunion was all around you, but you were focused on just holding the love of your life.

You felt two more bodies collide into yourself, Kie and Pope’s voices overlapping as they joining in the hug after they reencountered John B and Sarah.

Tears of joy pricked in your eyes as you all finally parted.

John B stole JJ’s attention pretty quickly, pulling him into a hug. The sight made you smile, and it was the same when JJ and Sarah shared a hug while you got solo hugs from Kie then Pope. They hadn’t gotten that close, but it was safe to say you all missed each other.

When you all seperated, JJ turned back to you.

“I can’t believe you’re here right now,” he spoke first, sounding both awestruck and overwhelmed with joy.

JJ’s hands reached to grab yours, his gorgeous blue eyes stayed locked with yours. God, you missed those eyes.

You couldn’t help but laugh, and he joined you.

“What are you guys even doing here? I…” you didn’t know why you glanced down, but you did. Something on JJ’s left arm made you trail off.

In large, black ink, your name was scrawled across the inner side of his forearm.

Your jaw dropped and you looked up at him.

“I hate to interrupt, but we should go,” Pope urged.

You wouldn’t get to ask him about the tattoo until you got back to the Outer Banks. A lot of shit had gone down, not just on your, Sarah’s, and John B’s end, but back home too.

As you sat around the Chateau patio, you exchanged stories, all jumping in randomly over one another to add details or ask questions because so much had happened.

As you sat by JJ’s side on the couch—he was basically melded to your side. You couldn’t have been happier. Your hands were laced together, reminding one another that you were really here.

You kept getting distracted by his arm. It was your name in a tattoo. A permanent tattoo.

As it got later and later, your friends started to trickle inside to sleep. Eventually, it was just you and JJ.

“Do you like it?” he asked suddenly, interrupting as you recounted the way Sarah had snuck you all into a fancy hotel. Your eyes snapped up to his, realizing you’d been looking at the tattoo again. “I know you wanna ask.”

He didn’t seem offended or annoyed, there was actually a hint of a smirk on his face. He’d been wearing that look all day, and it was usually paired with murmurs of him saying how happy he was to have you back home.

“Did it hurt?” you wondered, avoiding the real question.

JJ laughed, but answered with, “Not really.”

“You got my name on your arm,” you stated bluntly. Not mad, just surprised. “Like, forever.”

The expression on his face got a little more serious. You saw his gaze fall briefly to his arm and he swallowed.

“I thought you were dead,” JJ recalled distantly. “And I thought… I didn’t know what I was gonna do without you guys—without you.”

You frowned at his confession, but didn’t speak yet. He was struggling to find the words, but you knew he had more to say. You hadn’t had a chance to talk about it yet.

“It was awful,” he continued grimly, eyes finding yours. You wished you could wipe the frown off of his face because it broke your heart. “Everyday was awful. And if I didn’t do something, I…” he shook his head. “It made me feel better. I got to have you with me everyday in some way.” JJ rubbed his arm, smiling sadly. “You know I always loved your name.”

You laughed tearfully at that, picking up on the lightheartedness in his tone, wiping your eyes. You didn’t even realize droplets had formed.

“That’s so sweet, JJ.”

“I love you,” JJ told you. “And I’m so fucking happy your back.” His smile turned more joyful. “And now I get to have you with me everyday for real.” He squeezed your hand. “Don’t even try to shake me, you’re not getting rid of me now.”

It was his turn to laugh, and you dramatically rolled your eyes at the deprecating humor. The hand that wasn’t holding JJ’s cupped the back of his neck. You pulled him into a loving, long overdue kiss.

When you parted, met his eyes again. You never wanted to look away.

“I love you, too,” you told him with a soft smile. “And I missed you every single day.”

“Same here,” JJ told you, a small smirk breaking out on his face. He held up his tattooed arm. “Clearly.”

You cut your own laugh off again as you pulled him back in for another kiss.

You were so happy to be home.

[petitemistletoe]

rewrite your elvis fic why’d you only call me when you’re high but with one of the marauders?

Title: Why'd You Only Call me When You're High?

Pairing: Sirius Black x Reader

Warnings: smut, angst, drugs, old school rocker vibes

Word Count: 1.9K+

A/N: this could only be written about Sirius I'm sorry! He's so rockstar coded! happy holidays y'all :)

… The mirror's image, it tells me it's home time

But I'm not finished, 'cause you're not by my side

And as I arrived I thought I saw you leavin', carryin' your shoes

Decided that once again I was just dreamin' of bumpin' into you

… Now it's three in the mornin' and I'm tryin' to change your mind

Left you multiple missed calls and to my message, you reply

"Why'd you only call me when you're high?"

"Hi, why'd you only call me when you're high?"

Sirius finished his line of coke, flipping his head up and sniffing harshly. He gave himself a long look in the mirror. He looked great, obviously: leather jacket over a bare chest, a tangle silver and gold necklaces of varying lengths cascading down his neck to his chest. Most of his tattoos were visible and his pair of leather pants were impossibly tight. His fingers were adorned with a number of rings and his hair was that perfect combination of messed up and carefully styled. His eyeliner was smudged around his eyes and he couldn’t quite tell if his eyes were so dark from the eyeliner or from the lack of sleep. 

Sirius couldn’t remember the last time he had had a solid night of sleep, but that was the nature of touring. Of course his bandmates weren’t like he was. James was boring and married with a kid, who Sirius obviously doted on, but James spent all his time when they weren’t performing or practicing with Lily and Harry. Remus was dating this guy Grant who really got under Sirius’s skin. Was it because Sirius and Remus had had a fling, an excellent mind-blowing fling, and when Remus pushed for more Sirius said no and Remus moved onto Grant? Maybe. Was it because Grant was disgustingly kind and sweet and felt like the absolute antithesis of Sirius? Maybe. Was it because Grant had gotten Remus into tea and biscuits rather than coke and pills? Maybe it was that too. And then there was Peter. Peter, bless his heart, tried his absolute best but the coke made his nose bleed, pills made him constipated, and liquor made him vomit. So most nights after a show, James would go home to Lily and Harry, Remus would go home to Grant, Peter would go home to god knows who (probably his cats or gerbils or whatever), and Sirius would go anywhere but home. 

He had liked groupies, townies, the international girls and guys, but he liked you most of all. You were a bit of a forbidden fruit, you were his brother Regulus’s best friend, but that made it all the more appealing. Sirius only went home, only spent the night in his bed, if he knew you would be there too. 

Sirius dialed your number as he made his way home in the backseat of his limo. He was rolling something that he wasn’t sure if it was a joint or a cigarette as the phone rang. He did a double take as he drove past Newt Scamander’s house. Newt Scamander was an old school rocker, a living legend basically, and even though he was a little past his prime looks-wise, he was still a sex symbol. But it wasn’t just Newt’s house that caused Sirius’s double take, it was the fact that he thought he saw walking out of Newt’s house, carrying your phone in one hand and your heels in the other. Sirius shook the thought from his brain, figuring that he was so high he probably just saw a tree branch or something. Sirius got your voicemail but he knew, despite the late hour, that you were not asleep. He dialed you again. And again. And again. Until finally he heard your voice.

“Why’d you only call me when you’re high?” You sounded annoyed but he just laughed it off as he walked into his house, stepping out of his boots and kicking them off somewhere, stripping his sweaty clothes haphazardly and letting them fall off his body haphazardly. 

“That’s how you answer the phone? No hi?” Sirius teased, falling back on his bed and stretching his sore muscles. 

“Hi.” You said pointedly, “why’d you only call me when you’re high?”

“I’m not high.” Sirius said, taking a long drag of his spliff. 

“It’s three in the morning, Sirius.”

“Come over baby.” Sirius crooned. 

“You’re still talking the same shite you always did.” You were rolling your eyes, Sirius knew you were. 

“It’s harder and harder to get you to listen, baby.” Sirius said, a bite of annoyance coming through. He was on the come down from his earlier line and and was getting irritated. 

“Luckily for you I’m incapable of making alright decisions. I’ll see you in a few.” You disconnected the call. 

Sirius finished his spliff and began to roll another one. There were a few messages on his phone from James, he was probably up at one of those late night feedings for Harry. He started to read through them when he heard his door open and shut and after a few moments you were in his bedroom, crawling your way up the bed towards him. 

“That was fast.” Sirius frowned. Usually it took you at least fifteen minutes to get from your place to his, even in the dead of night when no one was out on the street. 

“You complaining?” You asked, pulling your shirt over your head as you straddled him. Sirius was going to question things more but suddenly your tits were in his face and he forgot all about that. 

… Somewhere darker, talkin' the same shite

I need a partner, well, are you out tonight?

It's harder and harder to get you to listen

More I get through the gears

He buried his face between your tits and groaned,

“This is my favorite place in the absolute world.”

“Well make yourself useful, Black, and stimulate my nipples.” You said, gripping his hair harshly. Sirius obliged, wrapping his lips around one of your hard nipples and his nimble fingers flew to other one, tweaking and pinching it. You were grinding down in his lap against his hard-on until his lips moved from nipples up around the curvature of your breast, then up your clavicle, then up your neck, until he got up to your lips. Before he could connect his lips to yours, you pulled back and made your way down his body and wrapped your hand around his cock. Sirius gasped as you ran your hand between your legs to lubricate it and then started jerking Sirius off. You laid flat on your stomach between Sirius’s legs and continued jerking him as you lightly sucked one of his balls into your mouth. Sirius went from the light gasps to strangled, intense moans and he felt like his lungs were about the collapse. 

“Get up,” he choked out, “I need to be inside you.”

You lifted yourself up and without much warning you seated yourself on Sirius’s cock. Sirius groaned and held your hips hard in place, preventing you from moving. 

“Sirius, come on.” You whined, your nose touching his as you tried to move again. Sirius released his grip and started fucking up into you hard. Sirius lifted his jaw, capturing your lips in a deep kiss. You pulled away harshly, pushing yourself up so you were no longer pressed against his chest. Sirius thought about saying something but then you moved your hips in the most delicious way and he forgot all about it. Sirius pulled you off of him and flipped you over, bending you over so your chest and face were pressed against the mattress and your hips were up in the air. There was a tattoo at the base of your back that had have been new. He pushed into you, his hands grasping your hips like he was about to fall off the edge of a cliff. 

He was close, so so close to finishing, but he was distracted by the tattoo on your back. It looked like a constellation, it was vaguely familiar looking, maybe it was something that he had studied in an astronomy course. One of the stars on the constellations was darker than the rest and it had a small green glow mark around it. 

“Did you snort too much or something? I’m getting rug burn here.” You said, turning and looking over your shoulder at Sirius. Sirius’s eyes snapped back up to yours and as he locked eyes with you he came. He always tried to pull out but he was caught off guard this time that he came inside you.

Incapable of makin' alright decisions, and havin' bad ideas

… Now it's three in the mornin' and I'm tryin' to change your mind

Left you multiple missed calls and to my message you reply

"Why'd you only call me when you're high?”

“Fuck Sirius!” You snapped, jumping off him and running to the bathroom. 

“Sorry,” Sirius murmured. It was weird…that tattoo was so so weird. It felt like something was sitting on chest he was so strangled by the idea that he had seen that exact constellation before.

“Fuck Sirius,” you repeated, walking back into his room and shaking your head, “I gotta get a morning after pill tomorrow.” You walked over to Sirius’s discarded tight leather pants and pulled out a few crumpled up bills that were in his pockets. “This is why I fucking hate having sex with you when you’re high.”

“I’m not high,” Sirius said weakly, still staring at your tattoo as you were bent over digging through his pockets.

“You only ever call me when you’re high.” You said, straightening up and starting to pull on your clothes.

“You aren’t staying?” Sirius felt like he was running out of time.

“I, uh, have to be up in the morning so I need to have an…early night.” You said, not looking Sirius in the eyes. 

“Am I starting to bore you baby?”

"Hi, why'd you only call me when you're high?"

… And I can't see you here, wonderin' where am I

It sort of feels like I'm runnin' out of time

I haven't found all I was hopin' to find

You said you gotta be up in the mornin'

Gonna have an early night

And you're startin' to bore me, baby

“I’m fine, Sirius. I just have an early morning.” You said in a snippier tone than Sirius had ever expected to hear from you.

“What’s that tattoo on your back?” Sirius stormed across the room and grabbed you by the arm harshly. 

“It’s the constellation Leo.” You snapped back, glaring up at Sirius.

“And what’s the glow on that star?” Sirius didn’t know why he was getting so upset but his blood pressure was only continuing to rise as he looked at you and thought about that tattoo.

“You really don’t know?” You smiled cruelly. “You really don’t recognize it.”

“What is it?” Sirius could feel his nose bleeding and he wiped at it. There was a streak of smeared blood on his cupid’s bow.

“It’s the star Regulus.” You grinned.

“Why’d you have to be such a bitch?” Sirius screamed.

“Why’d you have to be?” You retorted.

“Why’d you always lie?”

“Why’d you only call me when you’re high?”

Why'd you only call me when you're high?

… "Why'd you only ever phone me when you're high?"

"Why'd you only ever phone me when you're high?"

"Why'd you only ever phone me when you're high?"

"Why'd you only ever phone me when you're high?”

[mignonricciardo]

massages | lh44

this was meant to be fluffier but it ended more toward the suggestive end of things... ANYWAY he's such a lover boy and secretly soft no one can tell me otherwise

summary: lewis is sore after a long day of testing, and you've got just the remedy. (1.6k words)

warnings: suggestive themes, not full smut but close, fluff, massages, mention of the W13

“Are you done yet?” Lewis whines from the couch of the hotel suite.

I laugh as he does, shutting my laptop on the desk near the foot of the bed, “I’m almost done working, Lewis. I promise.”

“You said that an hour ago,” he calls, and I laugh again, sliding the device away from me and padding toward the living room. He hears my footsteps across the hardwood floor and turns his head to the door frame with a smile. 

“Happy?” I ask, hands on my hips.

He nods, “Incredibly.” 

His arms reach out toward me, pulling me toward the couch as I collapse on top of him in a fit of laughter. Lewis groans when I land on top of him, squeezing my sides as laughter falls from his lips. I slip into the spot against his chest as his back presses into the couch cushions. 

“So, now that I’m all yours,” I grin, feeling his arms tighten around my waist. “Tell me how testing went today.”

He sighs quietly, pulling me tighter into him as my hands rest over his, “It was promising. Much better at this point in testing compared to last year…”

I zone out as he speaks, relishing in the rasp in his voice and lilt to his accent. He continues to talk about testing, filling me in on details of the car or the tyres or the engineers. Moments from the team debrief and Angela’s treatments before testing started. His chest vibrates against my back, and his thick arms wrap around me tighter as tattoos come into view with his oversized tee. 

“There was still some bouncing, though. My back hurts like crazy.”

My ears catch this, and I giggle as a thought takes root in my brain. He pokes my side with one of his skillfully tattooed fingers, “What’s so funny?”

“I was thinking, you’re reaching grandpa status,” my laughter is still rattling my chest as the words leave my lips, and Lewis breaks out in laughter at the comment.

“I’m only four years older than you, darling,” he chides, but laughter is still bubbling in his chest. 

We settle into a comfortable silence as he hits play on a movie we’ve been wanting to watch together, and the television is the main source of light in the dark hotel room. Distant lights twinkle from the city, and if I squint hard enough, I can see the track where Lewis had spent the last three days. My fingers begin sinking into the skin on his hands and forearms, slowly working the tension from his arms as we watch the movie. I’m not sure how long my fingers continue their deft circles, but he speaks quietly with a rasp to his voice.

“That feels so good,” he hums.

“Good,” I answer gently, fingers taking a break from circles to drag lines up and down his arms. “Is your back still tight?”

“A bit, yeah,” he answers, sighing again as my fingers sink into his forearms. “Angela is coming over tomorrow to work on it.”

“Here,” I say suddenly, sitting up from my position on the couch. “Roll on to your stomach.”

“What are you doing?” he grins, eyes dark as he looks up at me. 

“I’m not a physio, but I’m giving you a massage. You’ll be miserable trying to sleep tonight if not,” I answer as if my intentions were obvious. 

“Who said we’re sleeping?” he grins, and I gasp as I hit his chest. “Fine, fine. I’ll roll over.”

“Before you do that,” I grin, blush lighting up my cheeks. “Shirt off. Sorry.”

He laughs, “You sure this isn’t some ploy to get me into bed?”

“Not yet, babe,” I grin, eyes glued to his chest tattoo as he balls his t-shirt up for a makeshift pillow. 

The compass tattoo is one of my favorites, and the pendant of his chain just reaches the northern point. The gold compliments his skin, and my eyes are glued to him as he rolls over onto his stomach and tucks his t-shirt beneath his chin. The tattoos spreading across his back and shoulders ripple over his taut muscles, and his skin reflects the blue light coming from the television. I quickly head to the bedroom to grab a body oil before returning back to the living room. He looks stunning spread out on the couch, and for a fleeting moment, I just stare before approaching him. My fingers reach for the hair tie holding his braids, and I gently release his braids with a gentle shake. He sighs as my fingers rub his scalp.

“That alright?” I ask, still sitting on the edge of the couch.

He nods his head, settling into the couch with his hands tucked beneath his chin and arms bent. I settle myself just beneath the small of his back, one knee on each side of his hips, and rest some of my weight against him. 

“Too much?” I ask quietly, fingers still rubbing at his scalp.

“No, perfect,” he groans. “Not to be sexual, but you feel great on top of me.”

I’m laughing at his comment, and he laughs as I open the oil and pour some onto my hands. His torso is shaking beneath me as he mutters a comment about sounding like lube, but his laughter quickly morphs into a groan as my hands begin to glide between his shoulder blades. My fingers work in circles around the base of his neck and slope of his shoulders, and I draw firm lines between his shoulder blades. I start to work my way toward the dip in his spine, fingers tracing between tattoos and taut muscles. 

“Where did you learn to do this?” he all but groans.

I smile at his reaction before answering, “So, when I was in uni, I met this Italian guy. We dated for awhile, but that’s not important. He was a masseur, and I think that’s why I stuck around. Every time I’d be writing a paper, he’d stop me to give me a massage because of the tension in my neck. I made him teach me a few things before he left a few months later. Fifteen years later, and it looks like I’ve still got it.”

“Besides the fact that you dated,” Lewis starts, pausing to release another gasp as my fingers work through a particularly deep knot, “I need to find this man to give him a proper thank you. You’re a goddess.”

I grin, leaning down closer toward his ear, “Not the first time I’m on top of you and being called a goddess, no?”

“And definitely not the last,” he answers without missing a beat, voice suddenly raspy as my fingers continue. 

We fall back into a comfortable silence as I work the tension and soreness out of his muscles, and he remains still beneath me as he melts beneath my touch. I find myself resting more of my weight on him as we slowly morph into one mass in the darkening room. The movie is long forgotten, sending ambient light across the shadows of the modern furniture and minimal decor, and the sounds beneath us begin to mellow out besides the occasional horn of a car or shriek of a passerby. 

“Darling, when you’re ready, roll onto your back,” I whisper quietly, heart melting at his quiet mumblings and eyes cracking open. 

He takes a few moments after I climb off him, groaning as he rolls onto his back and looking up at me. He has a lazy smile set on his face, watching me as I settle back onto his hips. The tips of his ears turn pink as I straddle him, and I laugh quietly as I feel him against me.

“You’re ridiculous,” I say quietly, warming my oil between my palms. “Does everything get you going?”

“It’s you,” he shrugs gently, hands resting on my hips as he leans back into the couch. “Like I said, you’re a goddess.”

“Such a flirt,” I whisper as my hands begin to work on his biceps and chest, tracing tattoos and dark skin stretched over defined muscle. 

His eyes flutter shut beneath my ministrations, but I can tell he is awake with the subtle movement of his hips every time I lean forward toward his chest and back for more oil. His breath is sharp, and I can feel him straining against me beneath the fabric of his shorts. As my thumbs dip behind his neck toward the base his skull, he sucks in a sharp breath as his eyes fly open.

“Baby, please,” he rasps. “I don’t think I can take much more like this.”

“Too much pressure?” I ask, brows furrowed and worried I’ve hurt him.

He shakes his head vehemently, “No, it’s perfect. I’m-”

Lewis sucks in a deep breath, hands on my hips pushing me further onto him. My mouth falls open as he throbs against me, and he speaks with a strain to his voice, “I’m not going to be able to think straight with you on me, darling.”

“Then, we’ll call this session finished,” I swallow thickly, still stuck to him as his hands hold me to him and his eyes keep me pinned.

“How about you teach me, and I can return the favor?” he whispers. 

My cheeks are pink, “Jealous much of my ex-boyfriend?”

“Oh, darling, you’re going to regret ever bringing him up.”

[poppy-metal]

Y’all got me thinking about listening to Eddie’s heart beat while I’m in sub space after getting my brains fucked out and let me tell you I’m fucking yearning

In that one post with Eddie teaching Steve how to take care of you after fuckin the part where he was like “she like listening to your heart beat” FUCKING HELLO

you mumble, "your hearts racin' eds..." sleepily into his sweat slick chest, coming down from the hight of just being fucked dumb. your head is propped on one of his pecs, right over his tattoo, and you can hear the rapid-fire thump thump thump of his heart under you.

you hear him snort, the motion making your head bob on him and he twirls a strand of your hair around one of his fingers. "s'cause im in love with you, dummy."

you don't know why this makes tears prick your eyes. maybe its because you're still in that floaty place he takes your head to sometimes when he fucks you. everything just feels so surreal and overwhelming. the fact that eddie munson is in love with you, that having sex with you makes his heart race, makes you suddenly, very, very emotional.

"oh." you say, softly. sniffle a little. "i love you too."

"shit, I'd hope so with the way you just let me fuck you." he brushes a knuckle down your cheek. pauses when he feels the warmth of your tears and presses his knuckle under your chin to raise your head so he can look down at you.

"hey." he soothes. "what're these for, huh?"

he's so warm and comforting. you dip your chin back down so your cheek is laying flat on his chest again. his heartbeat thumbing like a hummingbirds wings. "good tears." you reassure him before he worries too much. "m'just happy to have you, eddie. you make me feel....cherished."

you aren't present enough to articulate masterfully crafted sonnets about your feelings. its simple but its real and true. even with his cum running down your thighs and his hickeys marring your skin. everything you feel for him is soft.

he soothes a hand over your head. "i adore you." he says, without an ounce of teasing. "more than i ever thought i could. you deserve every good thing i can give you-" he drops a kiss to your temple. "-gonna work my ass off to make this all worth your while."

you flutter your lashes drowsily. "just keep making me cum like you did before."

now his tone is teasing. "oh, i plan on it."

[captain-mj]

Plane Ride

Little Ghost mom centric thing because @snootlestheangel made me think about her again

Mrs. Riley silently handed her ticket to the airport security. She had never flown to America before. If she could, she'd probably feel anxious about doing something wrong and the man yelling at her.

Instead, all she could feel was the swirling mix of dread and relief filling her entire body. They bubbled and foamed inside her until she felt like she might throw up on the nice worker's shoes.

"Mum." Tommy put his hand on arm gently. "Sorry, sir. My brother is in the hospital and neither of us are taking it well."

"Go ahead and go through."

"Thank you, sir." Tommy held her hand as she tried not to cry again. "it's okay, Mum. Simon is alright. We're going to go see him and he's probably going to be fine and tell us we're loonies for even being worried about him."

Mrs. Riley wasn't sure she believed him, but nodded all the same. She was never the strongest person. Mentally or physically. It was not something she was proud of honestly. But she needed to keep herself together through the flight.

Tommy managed to sleep, probably exhausted from handling Joseph and the unknown amount of time he spent on the phone trying to get everything together. She made sure not to wake him up, even as she kept weeping.

Simon was alive. They told her he was dead. Went missing and would never return. That she'd never even get a body.

And now. He was alive, in critical condition and hadn't talked much. Her good boy.

Mrs. Riley started to sob again. She had never been a good mother. She always tried, but she didn't fool herself into thinking she was good. Simon protected her more than she ever protected him and that would probably always haunt her. A better mom would've left. Or at least made sure she was the only one getting hit.

The first time he had broken Simon's arm, she did leave. Just for a day. And then she came back. Weak and unable to handle the world anymore. When did she get like that? She asked herself the question constantly.

Not Simon though. Even as a kid. Always tough as nails.

The poor flight attendant offered her a drink on the house. She simply asked for a water and to please come back when Tommy was awake.

On foreign soil, she wondered how her son did it. Just... went to other countries. Talked with people. Smiled and drank and did all the things she did as a kid so easily.

A military personnel picked them up. They had on their formal wear. Only difference between it and the one, who told her that her eldest had died, was the flag and some colors. He had a scar along his head and tattoos on his arm. For a brief moment, she thought one of them may match her son's but his sleeve was half covering it.

"My name is Sergeant Alex Keller. Pleased to make your acquaintance."

He talked to Tommy like a soldier, greeting him with a thick Texan and shaking his hand. For her though, he must've seen the red eyes and the bags that came under them, because he actually smiled at her.

"I've never met someone as... strong willed as your son. I'll be happy to escort you both to the hospital. However," her blood started to drop in temperature, "i must warn you. He's not a happy camper. His condition also... isn't pretty. Doctors say he's out of the weeds, but recovery is going to be a slow and steady process."

Tommy nodded. "Strong willed... That's one way to describe him."

Sergeant Keller simply smiled and she got the impression he knew something she didn't. Most likely something classified if he was anything like Simon.

Alex took them to the hospital where they were told only one visitor at a time. With no hesitation, Tommy stepped back and said he'd wait in the waiting room. Although it was no doubt killing him, he simply squeezed his mom's hand and let go.

Mrs. Riley followed the nurse through the white halls, feeling nauseated as many childhood A&E visits flashed through her brain.

"Right now, he's on quite a bit of oxycodone."

"He's not supposed to take that."

The nurse faltered a bit. "There was no note in his file for allergies. We couldn't leave him unmedicated. Is there a different one that he should be on?" She sounded almost panicked, as she checked through Simon's file.

"Addiction... runs in the family. Sorry, I trust your judgement, miss. I'm just surprised he let you give him any pain meds."

The nurse relaxed and hesitated, again, almost telling her something. She seemed to take pity on the poor mom. "He was... delirious. We believe he was given some cocktails of hallucinogens and who knows what else. That with the infection and the fever... I don't think he would've stayed coherent enough to make choices."

Mrs. Riley found herself relaxing a little. "Simon knows how to dissociate. Hopefully that's what he did when they... took him. I understand there's certain things you can't tell me. I do. What can you tell me? Before I go in this room. What should I know?"

The nurse paused in front of the door. "I wouldn't normally do this. I need you to understand. But I think someone he's close to should understand what happened." She put the file on a small table nearby. "I'm going to walk away. Just go in when you're ready."

Mrs. Riley smiled at her and waited a moment or two after she walked away before picking it up.

Broken ribs. Dislocated. Vivisections scars. Damage to multiple organs. A surgery had been done to remove internal scar tissue. Puncture wounds all over. Unknown wound on the ribs. Cuts along face. Wound from a previously healed over slit throat. Signs of starvations. Signs of rape. Burns along feet, potentially from walking on hot ground. Scorpion stings on hands and wrists.

There were more, but most were cuts or bruising. Horrible, but nothing like what she had just read.

Mrs. Riley should've taken a moment to compose herself, but she couldn't. She didn't even put the file back on the table, just dropped it and went inside.

There he was. For the first time since he was six years old, he looked small. There were so many bandages, especially around his mouth. But his eyes were exposed. Along with dark hair that had grown out and fell in his face now. For a brief moment, his heart rate spiked in fear as he stared at her.

"There's my good boy." She said softly, walking over. She made herself walk slow and steady despite wanting to collapse. When he flinched away from her, it felt like she had her heart ripped out and picked apart. But he settled, his heart rate began to even back out.

He tried to talk but it seemed to pull something cause it winced in pain instead.

"Simon." His eyes went straight to her, soft and wet. "Blink once if i can take your hand."

One blink.

She grabbed it gently, cradling it. His hands dwarfed hers. There were so many scars. So much bandaging. Her eyes filled with tears and she could hear the heart monitor start to beep faster.

"I'm so glad I have you back, Simon." She rubbed his knuckles gently to calm him back down. "Tommy is outside when you want to see him."

It looked like he tried to sit up but the pained whimpering that came out of him made her sick.

"Sweetheart," she pressed his shoulders back gently, not liking the defocused look in his eyes. "please. Just stay still. Everything can wait. I promise. For once, just... let someone else be the strong one for you, alright?"

Mrs. Riley pulled up a chair and held his hand. Before long, he fell asleep, though he fought it to the bitter end. Tommy was allowed back eventually and she wasn't prepared for how fast he just fell apart.

Her poor boys.

Simon went to comfort him but was luckily stopped by both of them before he could hurt himself. He looked miserably at both of them but Tommy hit the pain med button for him and he relaxed back into a blissful and hopefully pain free sleep.

Mrs. Riley could be strong. She knew she could. Whatever Simon needed, he'd get.

[riririnnnn]

Low-key a continuation of this, but this post alone makes complete sense.

I'm well fed now, so my brain is churning again.

LESGOOOOOO 🌬️🤸🏻‍♀️🌪️

So, we have this fella.

Let's start.

Theory — 1

Kaiser has a flower farming family business or a florist shop.

You see, Blue Rose isn't something you'll find growing in the wild on its own. It's an artificially produced product or a White Rose dyed with a blue colour.

I understand that there are many people out there who are passionate about growing flowers, but only as a hobby. However, for simplicity, let's ignore that.

So, I think he was more like a soft boy and you can easily imagine a soft boy with a flower background getting bullied by the tougher guys when he decided to join a soccer team, then someone from his family gave him an inspirational talk about Blue Rose. It explains his want to win the World Cup and also his want to push the soccer industry into despair.

Plot hole: This theory doesn't feel Blue Lock-esque, it feels rather lame for a character like Kaiser. It doesn't explain his weird, nearly obsessive behaviour in his rivalry with Isagi. It leaves no room for a deeper explanation about his hand tattoo.

Theory — 2

This is the more widely known and believed theory in the BLLK Fandom that Kaiser was poor growing up, and some might even go as far as to say that he was a trafficked child. It could be that the one who lend him a hand for help also had some association with Blue Rose, and then helped him pursue soccer further.

Plot hole: Quite similar to Lorenzo's story. Being poor has already been used many times as a trope in this Animanga. Doesn't explain his behaviour of inflicting pain on himself while being frustrated and that why he wants the soccer world to go into despair.

Theory — 3

This goes darker, so be warned.

Soccer, somehow, destroyed his loving and happy family. It could be that he used to be a crybaby, and he got inspired/used to look up to a figure in his house who used to play soccer.

Firstly, when he used to fail in soccer, that figure used to calmly soothe him and treat him nicely, but then things turned out to get worse and after that Kaiser got subjected to being physically abused which explains his knack to choke himself.

Plot hole: Feels like a scrapped idea from Itoshi brothers' backstory. Blue Rose tattoo's influence in the story gets diminished and the hand tattoo feels like something added just to make the character look cool.

Theory — 4

This theory solely based upon this panel:

It makes me think like he got abandoned by a soccer partner or something.

Further, see this panel:

Maybe this partner backstabbed Kaiser?

It could be that his older teammates got jealous of his "talent" and then bullied/physically or verbally harassed him? When in reality he actually had no talent and just worked really hard, like, we have been shown how he was practicing hard after Isagi one-up-ed him in the Ubers match or after the Manshine City match when he was watching everything in those multiple screens.

Feels like he is going to be the Oikawa of Blue Lock.

Plot hole: I actually don't find any kind of plot hole in this theory except the fact that Blue Rose low-key feels out of the blue.

Theory — 5

It could be called as a modified version of the above theory.

Maybe his family is filthy rich too. Having "Kaiser" as a last name could mean that he is from some sort of Royal family and he used to play soccer with his siblings or a family member, but as the time passed, he still dreamt of being a Pro soccer player, but the other person(s) refused and instead accepted their traditional roles.

Plot hole: Feels like Reo 2.0, and doesn't explain why he wants the soccer industry to go into despair.

Personally, I do think that we are going to get entirely something else, but it's pretty fun to think of such things.

.

.

.

Ness should never touch scissors again. He massacred Kaiser's hair.

[leathfaic]

Ghost and Soap tattoo headcanons because the brain worms demand it right now!

In my mind at least Ghost has a lot more tattoos than just his sleeve, it's just not common knowledge because until he gets together with Soap no one ever really sees him undressed except maybe for medical staff.

The sleeve was the beginning but he's adding to them whenever leave allows, on his chest and back, on his legs and his other arms and even his hands. Ghost is also the kind of guy that is very stoic while getting tattoos, the pain doesn't really bother him, he's been through so much worse, but he's not the guy who's chatting with the artist either. He just sits through it. Similarly afterwards he's pretty disciplined about the aftercare required. Sun rarely is an issue with the way he dresses and he plans his leave times around the appointments so he can take it easy for a while.

When the inevitable itching starts he just glares at the spot, never actually touching it, but he gets fucking irritated for a few days.

And while he's not the best at taking care of himself in many aspects of his life I can actually see him take good care of his tattoos in the long run, because I imagine him getting them to cover up scars, especially those left by Roba and his men. It's his way of reclaiming his body. The motive itself often isn't as important as the fact that he chose to have it put at that spot. The meaning isn't in the design either it's in the fact that it was his decision to wear it, unlike the scars that were forced upon him.

And then there's Soap, he's only got the one tattoo that we know, at least when he meets Ghost.

Its faded from sunlight exposure and because he never took proper care of it while it healed, even caught himself scratching it once or twice when the itching started. Its always exposed and he rarely thinks of putting sunscreen on, so naturally the tattoo has a hard time and the colour fades quick.

So at some point Ghost asks him if he wants it touched up. He's making an appointment with the artist he trusts anyways and he'd be happy to bring him along. Ghost knows that for Soap his tattoo does have meaning, that he's fucking proud to have made it into the SAS and that he got kinda sad comparing the crisp lines of Ghost's tattoos to his own.

Soap ends up agreeing although he's wary since he can't see it go better than it did last time. But if anything the fact that Ghost is allowing him to come along for this is such a huge sign of trust that he just can't refuse it.

And Ghost's tattoo artist is going to have to recover for a moment because Soap is so fucking chatty compared to Ghost, the pain is kinda exciting to him so he talks more and more and the artist hears more words out of Ghost in response to Johnny than he ever did before. Would wonder if it was the same man if they weren't literally continuing work on a tattoo they had started.

Once they are both done Ghost makes sure Soap takes proper care of the new ink. Threatens to tie him to the bed if he starts scratching at night (something Soap finds entirely too exciting). Shares his care products with him and makes him wrap it up for the first weeks and months. Is always at hand with some sun screen, at least for the arm, even when they are in the middle of nowhere. It's worth the trouble to squeeze some sun screen in his pack when he gets to see Johnny so happy about how good his tattoo looks again.

And once he sees how a properly taken care of piece will look Soap wants more. Ends up accompanying Ghost to the studio whenever he goes.

He's creative, most of what ends up on him is based on his own sketches, always with meaning behind it for him. The next thing he gets is a certain skull based on a specific mask that he wears close to his heart (making Ghost go through emotions he wasn't aware he was capable of having). He also helps Ghost with giving some of his ideas form often redrawing endless variations to make sure Simon doesn't just pick one that seems okay and fitting for its purpose but one he really likes to look at too. Poor man almost loses it when he sees one of his sketches inked on Ghost for the first time and its a good thing they are on leave because he's not gonna let him out of their bed any time soon. Purely to protect the new ink from the sun of course.

[ppawmpkin]

Sub & Brat Riri Williams Headcannons

Riri Williams x Black Fem Reader

Warning: Smut!!

A/N: Heller, Heller, Heller!! I’m finally back writing again!! I’m so happy to be writing on here againn. This is something small and smutty for my wifey Riri. Hope whomever reads this enjoys it as much as I did while writing it cause chileee, im not gon say too much 😭

sub!riri! who calls your phone in the darkest hours of night, letting the phone sit right beside her on that plush bedding while soft, raspy moans escape her mouth as she ravages herself with the thought of you on her brain. making sure you never miss a moment, she cries your name as if it were your fingers, deep in her plush velvet walls, bringing her to the peak of her bliss.

sub!riri! who stares at you with such intention when you give her your permission to finally touch you. she basks in your beauty, all of it. from every look to every movement, she never fails to observe every single detail about you. it’s those pretty sounds in that pretty voice that ignite a fire in her, how you make her feel like the only woman in the world when her head is shoved between those plush thighs.

sub!riri! who loves when you punish her, looking at those tattoos littered across your stomach, including the one of her name right under the swell of your breast as she rides you to her fourth release, her knees weak, holding herself up just barely with the small amount of perseverance she had left.

sub!riri! who stops her movements for just a second before she feels your hands on her lower back, guiding her down on your pink strap once again. “did i tell you to stop, love?” you say, rubbing her swollen clit in small circles, staring right into those brown irises. “i cant, i cant.” she breathes, but continues to sloppily ride you, letting her body collapse on top of yours while you pamper small kisses on her neck.

brat!riri! who loves just a little bit of smarting off at the mouth when you tease her. “hm, you talk big game for someone who can’t even take silicone.” you say, tracing your finger down her abdomen. she didn’t know what was filthier, how you talked to her or the way she liked it, a sultry heat in between her thighs. “wanna test that theory, ma?” she said, tilting her head slightly, eyes looking you up and down, posing an obvious challenge, one that she knew you were more than willing to take.

brat!riri! who exposes herself in front of you while your attempt to focus on your work, knowing that you’ll take one look at her vulgar display and take her bait soon enough. “riri, imma need you off my desk baby.” you sigh, practically pleading the woman to remove herself so that you could continue with your work. she shook her head, spreading her legs right in front of your face, so much that you could see just how much she needed you. “please, i miss you so, so much.” she whispered, hands playing in your coils, guiding you even closer to where she wanted you.

brat!riri!! who got exactly what she bargained for when she finds herself shaking mercilessly, nails ingrained the material of your desk while your fingers pump in and out of her with ease. “right there, baby, fuck.” she moans, feeling that familiar sensation building in her stomach, her cunt tightening around your fingers.

brat!riri!! who whines when you remove your fingers right before her orgasm, a cute pout on her lips. “my poor baby.” you smile, voice laced with fake sympathy and a hint of condescension. you taste her sweetness on your fingers, humming softly as you savored her.

“now if you want to cum, you’ll work for it, won’t you?”

another authors note- i loved doing these so much, i might do some more for her and some more characters. i hope that whoever read this enjoyed them. 💕💕💕

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Life After

Summary: After taking on Chuck, the reader wakes up in a bedroom she doesn’t recognize in September 1984. Only now she’s a small child and has no idea what is going on. When she finds out the Winchesters live across the street, things get even stranger...

Pairing: Dean x reader

Word Count: 3,300ish

Warnings: language

A/N: I wrote this quite a while ago (pre-finale awhile ago) when one of my theories for the show ending would involve a time reset. A bit of a different read than my usual stuff!

______

A large boom made your eyes fly open. You sat up, finding yourself in a dark bedroom. You took a deep breath, brain trying to decide on processing what was in front of you and what had just happened.

It went with the later for the moment, eyes closing once more. Your big epic battle with Chuck, saving the world from ending, taking out the big bad of big bads. You knew it had happened. You remembered the day of. Everyone prepared for the worst, knowing that none of you were making it out alive. 

For a split second you allowed yourself to take in the bedroom. Perhaps it was a memory and you were in heaven. But it didn’t look familiar and the loud thunder outside the window didn’t seem like a particularly happy memory if it was one. Something was nagging at you though that you hadn’t died. You threw back the covers and swung your legs over the side of the bed, wide eyed when you took in the sight.

A pair of very short legs with pink and purple unicorn pajamas were somehow attached to you. You glanced down, a short sleeve purple shirt with another unicorn on it, your arms tiny. You pulled down the right side of your pants and your shirt up, no anti-possession tattoo on your hip. 

“What the fuck,” you whispered, eyes adjusting to the darkness more. You spotted a lamp on a nightstand and switched it on. Immediately you sat back against the pillows, swallowing hard as you saw the white bedspread, the lavender walls, stuffed animals in a pile in the corner, a small bookcase of toys and games and what looked like Dr. Seus books. “Oh no.”

You looked around the room and got up, finally exiting it and finding yourself in a dim hallway, the sound of TV going downstairs. You swallowed again and saw an open door to a bathroom. There was a step stool in front of the vanity as you climbed up, finally able to look at yourself.

Your very much five year old self.

“Oh, what the fuck,” you said, quickly hopping off the stool and rushing out the door, heading for the stairs. You went down them quickly, looking around a moment before you spotted a front door.

“Y/N,” you heard from down a hall, a man holding a beer walking over with a tired smile. “That is the third time tonight you’ve snuck down after bedtime. I told you, it’s just a storm, kiddo.”

“I-” you said before he set the beer down on a front table and he picked you up, resting you on his hip.

“Honey. Please go to bed for daddy? Please?” he asked as he carried you up the stairs and down the hall towards your room.

“O-okay,” you said, figuring playing along for the moment was the best move. The guy definitely wasn’t your dad and you had no idea where the fuck you were. If you were indeed only five, you were going to need a better game plan before you snuck off. He sat you down on your bed and pulled the covers over you, kissing your forehead before he turned off the light. “Dad?”

“Yeah, Y/N?” he asked quietly.

“How old am I?” you asked.

“Are you excited for your birthday tomorrow?” he teased. “Is that why you’re up so much tonight, cutie?”

“Uh, huh?” you said, the man smiling as he sat on the edge of the bed. “You’re turning five tomorrow. All your friends from school are gonna come over so you better stay upstairs and let mommy and me finish wrapping your birthday presents, alright?”

“Okay,” you said. You got a hug from him and it felt...nice. Maybe it was some kind of dream or something but you were nearly positive that you’d all shown up to face off against Chuck. Hadn’t that been the end of you? 

Hadn’t you died? Or if you’d lived...wouldn’t you still be an adult?

You gave your apparent father a forced smile as he left the room and pulled your door shut. You slumped back against the soft bed, glancing over to the window, the storm raging outside. 

You needed to figure out what the hell was going on and fast.

You groaned as you woke up the next morning, the sun filtering in. You sighed and pushed back the covers, throwing your head back when you caught a small calendar on the wall.

“No, no,” you whined. 

The stark red 1984 stared at you violently on the page and you wanted to cry, unbelievably so. You wanted Dean and Sam and Cas and Jack. You wanted the boys. You wanted it to be 2020. You wanted to go home to your bed and the bunker and be okay again.

Then it hit you that apparently it was 1984. September 1984. Last you checked, you had not turned five in September 1984. After taking a deep breath you reminded yourself that so far, this was not your childhood bedroom and that man from the night before was not your childhood father.

“Somebody fucked with the timeline,” you said to yourself, going over to your small dresser and getting dressed. You were less than thrilled with the options but you managed to pull on a pair of thick black tights, a pink and orange flannel and a pair of socks with circles on them. You found a hair tie in the bathroom and started to work on brushing it and putting it up when you saw your new dad walk by.

“Well good morning, birthday girl,” he said, cocking his head at you. “You want to wear that today?”

“Yes,” you said, working on your hair.

“I thought you wanted the pink dress,” he said.

“No,” you said, deciding minimal conversation was the best bet for now. You finished throwing your hair up and looked in the mirror satisfied.

“Well look at you. Doing your hair all by yourself,” he said as you reached for a toothbrush. It dawned on you that most five year olds didn’t do their hair by themself, not when it involved things like messy buns. You shrugged and hopped off the stool, your dad smirking. “I didn’t see you brush your teeth young lady.”

You rolled your eyes and went back up, brushing them as he watched.

“Alright, birthday girl. What would you like for breakfast? Your choice,” he said.

“Cheese omelette and bacon,” you said as you went past. He chuckled as he picked you up.

“What refined tastes from the big girl,” he said. “Try not to grow up too fast on me now.”

You pursed your lips when he wasn’t looking and forced yourself to wrap your arms around his neck and rest your head on his shoulder.

“I love you,” he said, kissing the top of your head. You still weren’t positive who he was yet but he was a whole lot kinder than your father ever was. You snuggled him harder, the man pulling out a cellphone at the bottom of the stairs.

The most recent iphone if you weren’t mistaken. 

You had to bite your tongue as he took a selfie of the two of you. He set you down and you cocked your head when he started to head away from a front room and down a hall towards what looked like a kitchen and family room area.

1984. Smartphone. Those two things did not go together.

Maybe it wasn’t 1984 afterall? But why the calendar?

“Birthday girl wants a cheese omelette and bacon,” he said. You quickly caught up and saw a woman with a big smile.

“No pink dress today, honey? That’s been the plan for weeks I thought,” she said, giving you a kiss before she went to the fridge. Double doors, stainless steel. You saw a 70” screen smart TV on the wall in the family room and excused yourself to the bathroom, finding a half bath by the front door. 

“Maybe it’s a djin,” you said to yourself. “Maybe it’s all in my head. Maybe we never even went and fought Chuck...or maybe I have finally lost it.”

You sighed and left the bathroom, walking past one of the front windows when you saw her.

Baby.

She was parked in the driveway across the street, a modern day SUV in the spot next to her along with a pickup truck. You opened the front door and stepped onto a front porch, hearing footsteps behind you.

“I know you’re excited but you will see Dean after breakfast okay?” said your dad.

“Dean?” you asked. “Winchester?”

“You best friends with some other Dean I don’t know about?” he teased as he shut the door. “Now go eat your breakfast, sweetie.”

You wolfed down your food, your parents taking their time, asking about how excited you were for your party that afternoon. The Winchesters were going to watch you so they could set up which was no bother to you. You needed to find the boys and talk to them fast.

“Alright, alright,” said your mom when you looked at the door again. “You would think you two could go more than twelve hours apart.”

“Those two are so getting married someday,” your dad said quietly as you slipped on a pair of velcro sneakers by the door. You opened it and started to head down the path to the driveway, hearing a tsk when you were halfway down. “Y/N. Hold up. What’s the rule about the road?”

“Uh, look both ways?” you asked as he caught up quickly.

“Yes,” he said. He grabbed your hand and you glanced up at him, seeing him smile as he looked up and down the street. “Okay. Now we can go. We gotta do that so you don’t get hurt, remember?”

“Yeah, sorry,” you said as you walked.

“It’s okay, kiddo,” he said, dropping your hand once you were in their driveway. You ran up it and to the front door, ringing the doorbell. You saw John answer, a much younger John than you were used to. He opened the door wide and you saw Dean behind him. You weren’t sure who moved first but you sprinted towards him and gave him a giant hug, Dean returning it.

“Hey,” you said quietly.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he whispered and you instantly relaxed. That was your Dean. Your Dean was now apparently a five year old boy but that was your Dean. 

“You two are being more adorable than usual today, huh?” said John.

“She was very excited to see Dean,” said your dad with a shrug. “Thanks for watching her this morning.”

“It’s never a problem, Dan,” said John as Dean started to pull you upstairs with him. “Try to be quiet for Sammy, guys.”

“I know, dad,” said Dean. You jogged up the flight up steps with him and down a hall, running into a bedroom before he shut a door.

“Dean,” you said, getting pulled into another hug from him and a kiss on the lips.

“Sorry. That’s probably really weird given our current situation,” said Dean.

“I love you. Kisses aren’t weird,” you said, giving him one back, Dean and you holding onto one another for a moment. “What the fuck is going on?”

“From what Sammy and I have figured, the whole timeline has been screwed up. Do you remember anything about what happened with Chuck?” he asked.

“No. You?” he asked.

“Not really. I don’t think he’s alive anymore though,” he said.

“How do you know that?” you asked. The door to the room opened and you saw a toddler walk in, barely tall enough to shut it.

“Y/N. This is Sam. He’s two apparently,” said Dean.

“Sammy?” you asked.

“Yes but I have to share with Cas,” said Sam. “Otherwise I can’t talk or get around this good.”

“Hello,” said a deeper voice, your gaze going back to Dean.

“You see what I’ve been dealing with since last night?” he said.

“Cas, what is going on? Why are we little kids? Why the hell does my new dad have an iphone in freaking ‘84?” you asked.

“The timeline we knew was reset. Completely. That kind of power could have only come from a few sources. I take the fact we are all still alive as proof that Chuck is either dead or has been sealed away,” said Castiel. “As a result, some things have changed. Most things seem the same but technology now is as you all knew it. It seems that whoever sent us all back here attempted to do this for our benefit.”

“Jack would have done that for us,” you said, both of them nodding. “You think he sent us back in time?”

“We’re his family. It’s not crazy to think the kid sent us back to have a second chance. I mean, our mom is alive,” said Dean. “She should have died a year ago. I don’t exactly remember what went down but maybe in this new timeline, she never made a demon deal.”

“Guys,” said Jack, suddenly in the room and sitting down on Dean’s bed. “You could have just asked.”

“What is going on?” you asked as you walked over and gave him a hug.

“Amara, who I think is my great-grandma? She and I...after everything that went down with Chuck, I asked her if we could fix it,” said Jack.

“Fix what, Jack?” asked Sam.

“Everything. So we did. There’s still demons and angels and all that guys but monsters are gone. It’s not perfect here but it’s better off than what we had before,” said Jack.

“Why are we children?” asked Dean.

“He wants us to have childhoods,” you said, Jack smiling. “Jack…”

“You guys were my parents. You still always will be. But you all have trauma. I can’t take it away but you deserve to have normal lives,” he said.

“Okay. That’s great and all but can I least be potty trained?” asked Sam. “Or like, at least five?”

“I can do three,” said Jack. “That would make today your seventh birthday then, Y/N.”

“Yeah, by the way, today is totally not my birthday,” you said. Jack tilted his head and smiled. “What?”

“Yes it is. The year is wrong, I’ll give you that but today is definitely your birthday,” he said.

“Jackie,” you said, closing your eyes. “Today isn’t my birthday. I have no idea who those people-”

“Y/N. Those are your parents. Your real parents,” said Jack.

“My dad was never-”

“That guy wasn’t your dad,” said Jack. Your face fell and you stared at him. 

“Um, what?” said Dean. He took your hand and you looked around. “Her real dad was a piece of crap.”

“Her real dad is actually a really good guy. The parents you grew up with Y/N, in your old life, those weren’t your parents,” he said.

“Well what hap-” you said, the door creaking open. All of a sudden you felt a smidge taller, Dean and Sam growing a bit too, Jack missing. You spun around and saw Mary smiling as she brought in a tray.

“Hey you three. Who wants a snack?” she asked. You stared at her, Sam stepping on Dean’s foot.

“Sammy,” said Dean, pouting at his little brother. 

“Sammy, that’s not nice. You don’t hit your big brother,” said Mary.

“I didn’t!” said Sam, throwing his hands up.

“Is someone cranky?” asked Mary. She picked up Sam and he sighed, sticking his tongue out at Dean as she carried him away.

“I’m pretty sure that was his version of flipping you off,” you said.

“This may have a few benefits,” he smirked. You shrugged and sat on his bed, Dean taking a seat beside you, holding your hand still. “Okay. It’s gonna suck until we get older and can be together the way we want to but we’re both seven. Six more years and we can start making out and a few after that we can move onto other things and I’m gonna have the recovery time of a teenager which is gonna be awesome so…”

You sniffled and he pulled you into a hug, kissing your cheek.

“I know. I know it’ll be okay. But I’m gonna miss seeing you guys whenever I want and we’re always going to have to be lying and it turns out those people that raised me weren’t my real parents. They must have stolen me or what, I don’t know but those assholes are the whole reason I became a hunter, why I found you,” you said. Dean smiled and pushed a loose hair behind your ear.

“I’m right here. I will always be right here. We’re gonna live across the street from each other and-”

“What if my parents move? What if yours move?” you asked, sniffling again.

“Y/N. Sweetheart. You’re my soulmate. I will always find you,” he said.

“You’re so fucking corny,” you said, kissing him, laughing when it felt all kinds of funny and different. “I miss your scruff.”

“Tell me about it. You’re taller than me,” he said. “But like I was saying, you’re going to grow up with nice parents that love you and keep you safe, not one’s you’re afraid of.”

“We both get to start over. Sam too,” you said. “I wonder where Cas is though.”

“I did not agree to this,” said Cas, popping up from the other side of the bed. He was about Dean’s height, black hair and a plain t shirt on.

“Oh, he’s adorable!” you said.

“I am an angel of my asshole father,” said Cas, giving you a death glare.

“You are kinda cute,” said Dean with a laugh.

“I believe Jack has made me your older cousin who lives with you for some reason,” said Cas.

“Why do you get to be older?” scoffed Dean.

“I am millennia old, Dean. Do you think I enjoy being ten?” he asked.

“On the plus side, he’ll be able to buy beer for us someday,” you said. Cas rolled his eyes but you wiped off your face, Dean using his flannel shirt to get the rest. “I’m better now. I promise.”

“I doubt that,” said Dean. “Cas, are you still all angel powerful?”

“Yes. In fact, my powers seem to be fully restored,” he said.

“So if I ever asked you to sneak over Y/N for a sleepover,” said Dean with a smile.

“I can do that,” said Cas softly. “I’ll give you two some privacy.”

“Thanks, buddy,” said Dean. Cas exited for a moment, Sam arguing about nap time down the hall from the sounds of it. “He’ll get to be a normal kid.”

“So will you,” you said. “I swear I so much as see you as trying to cook dinner before you hit double digits, Winchester.”

“I know. So, birthday girl, is there anything I can get you for your big day?” he teased. 

“I got you. I’m all good, Dean.”

______

[queers-of-marybelltownship]

well he collapsed with stevens-johnson syndrome on the er floor panic attacked anaphylactic and ataxic and the way he spun his butterfly risked all six his phalanges roman candles at both ends in his synapsis and the method with which he recycled his humours trojan horsed his blood brain barrier and raised the ld-50 yes yes and through fight or flight revelation shame the blackbox warrior he skipped this town and headed straight down history shields himself from reason in a kevlar baby blue tuxedo quilted from the finest fibers flesh and fiberglass and flowers ego a mosquito evil incarnate good incognito pops placebos for libido screaming bless the torpedoes for what for what for what its worth if it was gonna kill you boy it would have by now for what for what for what its worth theres no more looking back its looking up or looking down well he was wearing stolen rubber shoes and wrapped a poison ivy noose around his lotus jugular when they came and they found him with a map to every victim of his love and a tattoo of a blue jay on his face and they waited for his vital signs to lie and let a flatline cry a hymn out in hungarian harmonic and he cocked his noggin through his stoma sang for aul lang syn happy birthday to the succulents ill die your hydroponics his ribcage was a hornets nest palpitations set the beat his vagus nerve a turks head knot an axel hitch a carrick bend he wondered if christ consciousness would charge a cancellation fee auf whiedersehn au revoir he gripped his wits right by their ends for what for what its worth if it was gonna kill you boy it would have by now for what for what for what its worth theres no more looking back its looking up or looking down hello welcome why dont you take a seat get comfortable relax take a second if you need to now what's bothering you well why dont we start at the beginning growing up how was your relationship with the fundamentals of conscious existence did you have xenon orchid sinews spilling down the outer center of your blooming escher/mandelbrot head and how about claustrophilic tendrils clapping caskets closed on seven-knuckle thumbs did you get along well with the gideon bugler pineal glands your projector eyes casting sci-fi's on your strd strands tell me about your nerve to steal nerves of steel from under bacchus bloody nose did namibian himbas tie-dye you your ears pierced with a phineas gage flagpole did you die before your day thursday traction tuesday titration my hope is to assess through my objective report of your subjective conjecture whether this proprietary bled of expertise and seasoning works as well as this transorbital ice pick holistic ballistics you got a better idea its about the best we could come up with what you think ideas spread because theyre good no they spread because people like them so now here we are once again holding as it were a mirror up to your mirror i guess its just something people do a bloody knife to split your infrastructure wine to rev your motor function coital machinations of the dead well you mainline your animus karate chop your abacus and learn to be an animal instead but I never did think you better than this your modus operandi causes nazi/skoptzyism and suicide why to thine own self be true when it is you who are the problem not the things you do but something sick inside lithium and dialectics boy you really is defective cbt dont seem effective for that cluster b accept it offer up your innocence please ignore the side effects youve lost your mind and almost lost your life before so youll be fine for what for what its worth if it was gonna kill you boy it would have by now for what for what for what its worth theres no more looking back so try to look forward now for what for what its worth if it was gonna kill you boy it would have by now for what for what for what its worth theres no more looking back its looking up or looking down

good morning :))

[turbulenthandholding]

👀 just wondering if you’re writing anything these days!

1. Hi, hello, thank you for the ask @anxietycroissant! ❤️

2. I am...or I am trying! I am about 16,000 words into what is probably going to be a pretty long fic. It's an unexpected pregnancy/speed-run-the-relationship Sydcarmy and I am happy to be writing it because it's what my brain wants to read but it alternately falls out of my head and gives me great angst. I had been pretty blocked for more than a week but 3000 words fell out of my head like nothing last night which was a nice surprise.

Excerpt (Syd and Carmy are at IKEA):

“Sammy, right? Weren't you Carmy's sous?”

Sydney looks up to see Claire standing before her. “Claire. Hi. It's Sydney, actually,” she says and rises. Claire's eyes fall to Syd’s abdomen. “And I'm his CDC now.”

“Oh, that's so cute!” Claire says, her eyes falling to Syd’s belly. “You finally got over your weird obsession with Carmy and moved on,” Claire says. “Congratulations!”

“Weird obsession?” Syd asks. She feels pinned again like she did the first night she met Claire during the reno, glared at for reasons Syd at least thinks she understands now. Jealousy, and this time, lingering anger at her breakup with Carmy, which Claire lobs at Sydney like a knife.

Syd struggles to respond. “Sorry...are you like here to look at a couch? Or like, eat some meatballs? Sorry.”

“How do you feel about a lingonberry juice box?” Carmy asks Syd as he returns, focused, unaware, unwrapping and inserting the straw as he moves to hand it to her. “Got some water too,” he says, finally engaging with the scene in front of him.

“Carm, hi,” Claire says, features pinching. Syd takes a sip from the straw.

“Uhh, hey, Claire,” Carmy returns. He slips his arm around Syd, possessive fingers digging into her hip. A united front.

“Just one…” Claire begins. “Did this, uh, overla…how far along are you?”

“Due at the end of February,” Syd says.

Claire calculates, glares at Carmy. “You didn't waste any time.”

Carmy shrugs.

“Well, this is just so fucking precious,” Claire says through clenched teeth. “I guess when you said you didn't have space for fun or enjoyment in your life, you really just meant you don't have space for me. Cool. Cool. That's just…I’ll see you around, Bear. Good luck with whatever.” She slings her bag over her shoulder and stalks off back towards the escalators.

“Uhh,” Syd says, before taking a last drink from her juice box. The lingonberry juice is good, a little tart cutting through the sweetness. The box scrunches and crunches in her hand and makes the sound that juice boxes do when they are finished. “Sorry, that was loud. And just like…sorry that, uh, this happened.”

(2.5 - I could probably use an alpha reader if any of my Sydcarmy mutuals wants to take a look and tell me if it's bad or that I'm crazy because it could very well be!)

3. I'm also working on a soul mark/soul scar Sydcarmy. It's probably about 3k words so far but I put it to the side because I realized I had a huge plot hole and haven't quite figured out how to come back from it yet.

Excerpt:

Sydney gets really good at applying foundation to her arms, pressing it in with setting powder to help keep it waterproof just in case. The number of tattoos gracing her arms has been growing exponentially over the last few months. There's a pyrex measuring cup holding the whole world, a couple of angels, a fish. S-O-U on the fingers of her hand. She's a senior in high school on track to graduate with honors and the body art would be a distraction, a mark against her. An indication that she's not serious enough to do anything other than make terrible decisions or jeopardize her future; a constant, tangible reminder that she doesn't have the grace about things like this than people whose skin is lighter than hers. She wishes she didn't care. But she does, so she covers them up every day in a routine that feels like it has become her religion. She wears button-down shirts with long sleeves secured at her wrists most days, even when the heat and humidity in Chicago are oppressive. Counts the seconds until she can go to the CIA where maybe the sight of Schrödinger’s tattoos (simultaneously hers and not hers) won't hold her back.

[leiawritesstories]

Okay I saw “First time getting drunk” on one of the prompt lists and now I’m imagining aelin or rowan maybe having their 21st, having waited all that time without having alcohol and maybe the other one’s teasing them for being such a goody-two-shoes, and then they get drunk together and it’s either hilarious or there’s a love confession or literally anything at all, this is just where my brain headed but you can go anywhere you want to with this prompt, your ideas are always amazing

(And congrats again❤️)

HI ABBY THANK YOU SO SO MUCH ❤️❤️❤️this made me CACKLE and i hope it makes you laugh too ;)

Word count: ~1.4k

Warnings: swearing, alcohol, drunken antics, *someone* is a lightweight

enjoy!!

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

The Staghorns Bar was packed by the time Aelin and Rowan walked through the old wooden doors, instantly bombarded with the barrage of blaring music, tattooed skin, and beer stench that was so familiar to Staghorns's regulars.

"Welcome to your new favorite place!" Aelin called into Rowan's ear, raising her voice over the thumping music.

He rolled his eyes and pulled her closer against him. "I already want to leave."

She laughed, pinched her best friend's cheek. "Where's the fun in that, birthday boy? You don't even have to pay for your drinks tonight."

"Fine, I'll stay," he relented, grinning at her. "If only for the free drinks."

"You've never known the pain of paying for your booze," she reminded him, snickering. Rowan's refusal to touch alcohol until he was 21 had been a longstanding joke among their friend group.

"And whose bank account has that benefitted, hmm?" He raised his split brow.

"Okay, you can stop now." She poked him in the ribs. "I got the full college experience, booze and all, and I'm still in one piece, despite your hovering, Mom." She delivered that last word with heavy sarcasm. She might be eight months older than her best friend, but he hovered like an overprotective mother hen.

He snorted. "You keep calling me that, Ae, but we all--urk!" His snarky comment was cut off by a trademark Fenrys Moonbeam Hug Attack, which he allowed for exactly two seconds before shoving the blonde off of him.

Ever enthusiastic, Fen turned his sights onto Aelin, hoisting her off her feet in a bear hug. "You brought the birthday boy!" he exclaimed.

She laughed. "It took some bribery, but yeah, he's here."

"And he's gonna get druuuuuunk!" Fen cheered in a sing-song tone of of voice that had Rowan rethinking his decisions.

"Uh-uh, nope, I know that face." Aelin linked her arm through Rowan's and tugged him towards the booth where their friends were waiting. "No running away now, birthday boy."

"I'm not getting drunk," Rowan griped.

She snorted under her breath. "Since when have you ever listened to Fen's wildness? You'll have a beer, maybe taste some liquor, take a shot and cough on it like all the new drinkers do, and go home finally knowing what alcohol tastes like."

"And I should be excited for that?" he asked, deadpan.

She smacked his broad shoulder, which did more damage to her hand than his rock-solid muscles. Damn athletes. "You'll at least be able to tell your big bad hockey boys that you've graduated from the kiddie table." They reached the booth, where far too many people were crammed into a space meant for eight people, maximum. "He's here!"

"Happy birthday!" cheers sounded from their friends, and Rowan found himself deluged by more hugs and handshakes and back slapping.

"Never thought I'd see your pansy ass in a bar," Lorcan smirked, clapping him on the back.

"Fuck off." Rowan clapped Lorcan's back harder. The two of them had been teammates since they were in middle school, and Lorcan had been trying--unsuccessfully--to get Rowan to come to hockey team parties for years.

The taller man smirked wickedly and turned around, holding out his hand. "El, baby, pass me a cup?" A plastic cup full of beer appeared in Lorcan's hand. courtesy of his girlfriend, Elide. "Here you go, Birthday Boy." He picked up how own drink and tapped it to Rowan's. "Cheers, bitch!"

Rowan caught scent of the beer and immediately wrinkled his nose. "Smells fucking awful."

Appearing at his side, Aelin laughed. "We're college students, Ro, we only buy piss-cheap beer." She raised her own glass to him and pressed her lips to his ear. "Drink up, and I just might buy you something better."

"God damn, you're a terrible influence," he muttered, teasingly. "Cheers to me, then!" Saluting the booth, he tipped the cup back and took a long drink.

And gagged. "Fucking hell!"

Aelin chugged her whole cup in one go and laughed. "Not a fan?"

"No!" He switched cups with her. "Where's my real drink?"

"Aww, look at our little boy, all grown up and wanting liquor the second he tastes his first alcohol," Lorcan crooned, dropping his arms around Aedion and Rowan's shoulders.

Rowan shook him off. "Jackass."

Aedion slid a shot glass full of clear liquid across the tabletop. "All yours, birthday boy!" His grin was just as maniacal as Aelin's when she was up to no good.

Aelin shot her cousin a sharp look. "Aedy, is that--"

"Let him drink it and we'll find out," Aedion interrupted before she could finish, making a dramatic shut up! gesture.

She rolled her eyes. "You're a terrible influence." Swiping the other shot from Aedion, she took a quick sniff--yep, tequila. "Okay Ro, ready?" He nodded and picked up his shot. "Happy birthday, bestie!" She clinked her shot with his and, in unison, they tapped their glasses on the table and threw back the shots.

Rowan coughed and wheezed as the tequila burned down his throat, his face flushing red. "What the fuck?"

The booth burst into raucous laughter as he dropped his shot glass, reached for the glass of water sitting in front of Elide, and gulped it down desperately.

Only to find that what looked like water was in fact vodka.

"Look at our little alcoholic go!" Elide cheered, taking her drink away from Rowan as he coughed and spluttered some more.

"Wuh-water," he managed to wheeze. Aelin passed him her water bottle, and he took a tentative sip to confirm it was actually water before guzzling three-fourths of the bottle in one go. It helped, but didn't do anything to clear the glassy sheen his eyes had already taken on after half a cheap beer, one shot of tequila, and a generous helping of Elide's vodka.

"Better?" Aelin took back her water bottle. "Ro? Is that better?"

He turned to face her, blinking at the way her outline was...fuzzy? He shook his head. That couldn't be right. "Huh?"

A wide, wicked grin slipped across her face. "Rowan Whitethorn, are you drunk already?"

"No, I'm not!" he protested. It came out more like "no-uhmmm-not."

She snickered. "Should've known you'd be a lightweight after all your years refusing to drink." Standing, she draped his arm around her shoulders and waved to the table. "I'll make sure the birthday boy doesn't pass out before he gets home."

Rowan swayed on his feet but let her lead him out of the bar and across the parking lot until they'd reached his beat-up old pickup. He went to step up into the passenger seat, missed the running board, and flopped forward, catching his upper body on the seat.

Aelin sighed and rubbed his back comfortingly. "C'mon, you big drunk oaf, you have to get into the truck. I can't lift you."

"I'n lif' you," he slurred, grinning a big silly grin.

"I--wha--Ro!" She gasped as he turned around and lifted her easily, setting her down in the passenger seat. "Um, you've got it backwards, Rowan. You're way too drunk to drive. Hell, you might be too drunk to think properly' I can't let you drive."

"Am not!" He stuck out his lower lip. It was adorable. "'M'thinkin' jus' fine, an' I think I love you."

Aelin froze.

Rowan blinked at her, his hazy eyes wide with concern. "Ae?"

"You...you love me?"

A soft pink blush crept up his cheeks. "Yeah."

Her lips curved into a tiny, hesitant smile. "And you had to get drunk to admit it?" He opened and closed his mouth a few times, at a loss for words. She laughed softly and caught his chin in her hands, her bringing his face close to hers. "I'm just teasing, Ro." Gently, she pressed her lips to his, tasting the lingering alcohol.

He wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her harder, breaking away after a long, sweet moment. His bright grin settled into a dark, cold corner of Aelin's heart and warmed it right through. "Stay wi'me?" he asked, his words still slurred together.

Beaming, she hopped down from the truck, boosted him into the passenger seat, went around to climb into the driver's seat, and started up the engine. "Of course."

Despite falling asleep within the first two minutes, he held her hand the whole drive back to campus.

~~~

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